#I’m sure this will have no consequences today the last full day of vacation together I will not hold a grudge/remember this later <- lying

[badolmen]

brother why

[lostinthewiind]

Piss Off Your Parents - Part 1

Ukai Keishin - Haikyuu

Synopsis: freshly turned 18, you want to prove to your parents that you aren't a child for them to push around anymore. First, get a job at the local corner store. Second, use the store owner's 26-year-old son with piercings and a cigarette addiction to piss your parents off. Third, accidentally fall in love.

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: none

Song → 18 by Anarbor

A/N: if you couldn’t already tell, I have planned this as a series/full story. I was torn between writing it on here or on Wattpad or something, but ultimately decided on Tumblr . . . but let me know if you would prefer it on another platform as well! Also, this series will eventually include smut/NSFW content but that will be tagged appropriately when the time comes. As always, I hope you enjoy. 

Next →Part 2

Slamming the front door behind yourself on your way out that morning, you quickly stuffed your earbuds into your ears and cranked your music as loud as you could to drown out the sounds of your parents yelling after you and, consequently, at one another after you had dropped the bomb about your new job on them seconds before you had left, giving them as little time as possible to shame you for it.

After graduating high school and turning 18, you had decided it was time to take your life into your hands, which wasn’t too easy while you were still living under your parents’ roof, but you had to start somewhere and that somewhere was getting a job at the local corner store, Sakanoshita Market. 

You knew that your parents wanted you to go to university and ‘make something of yourself’, but you also knew that you could never truly be happy under their dictatorship-like ruling, so you decided to get a job, no matter how shitty, save your money, move out as soon as possible, and go from there. 

It was definitely going to be a process, and not an easy one, but all you had to do was take it one step at a time.

Rounding the corner and seeing the market in the distance, you felt your nerves begin to bubble inside of you a little. Sure, you had gotten some part-time jobs here and there during summer vacation before, but you had never gotten a full-time job before and had never needed the money from a job like you did now. Before, the cash you made was for extra spending money during the summer and school year, but now the money you would be making would be funding your future. It seemed like a lot of pressure to put on a job that entailed stocking shelves, checking out customers, and cleaning. 

The lady who had hired you had basically explained that since she was getting older and her son, who had been maintaining the place previously, had gotten a new job, the store needed someone to learn the ropes and take care of the place on a daily basis; and since you were young, a fast learner, and didn’t have anything else in your life besides work, you were a perfect fit. 

As the shop doors slid open smoothly to welcome you into the store you had been inside countless times in the past, you suddenly felt completely out of place in the familiar market. Now that you were an employee instead of a customer, the atmosphere had completely shifted. Instead of heading right for the fridges to grab a drink like you usually did, your eyes shifted immediately to the front counter where a figure with its feet up hid behind an open newspaper.

Just like every other time you had visited while the store owner’s son was working, he did everything humanly possible to avoid interaction. Usually, you would have appreciated not being bothered while trying to scan the shelves, but since this time was different, the lack of acknowledgement was slightly unnerving. 

“Ahem,” you cleared your throat, hoping it was enough to catch his attention. It was not. Instead, he flipped the page of the newspaper and you watched as a hand emerged from behind the paper barrier to flick the ashes from his cigarette into an ashtray sitting beside the register. 

Eyebrows furrowed, you really wished that the shop owner herself had been there to greet you for your first day instead of her seemingly useless son. “Hello.” You stepped up to the counter, the feeling of not belonging sinking deeper into your bones. 

Slowly, the newspaper separating you from the man behind the counter lowered and the shop owner’s son glared back at you, eyes half-lidded as if he were seconds away from falling asleep and the cigarette from before hanging from his bottom lip. This was far from the first time you had interacted with him, but you would be surprised if he remembered you as a customer even a little. Whenever he checked customers out, you could tell he was running on autopilot. 

The man’s eyes drifted down to your hands, which were resting on top of the counter now. Noticing you didn’t have anything to purchase, he cocked a brow. “Need help finding somethin’?” 

“Ugh, no,” you answered. “I’m the new employee. I’m supposed to start today.”

His eyes scanned you once more, this time more thoroughly, and you swallowed hard. Feeling as if you were being observed under a microscope, you slid your hands off of the counter and stuffed them into your pockets self-consciously. 

As he inspected you inch by inch, you took the time to take a closer look at him as well. With dyed blonde hair, two earrings in his left ear, an apparent nicotine addiction, and a noticeably flippant attitude toward his job, he was the definition of the type of man your parents would kill you for bringing home. Somehow, this only made him more intriguing. You wondered if he really was as disinterested in everything as he seemed or if it was just this job he thoroughly hated and became someone a lot more interesting when he wasn’t behind a counter.

“How old are you?” he asked out of the blue, catching you off guard a little. While he waited for you to answer, he set the newspaper to the side, dragged his feet from the counter top, and patted out some of the wrinkles from the white apron he had tied around his bright orange sweatshirt. 

“I’m 18,” you responded, not sure why it mattered but also not seeing any harm in answering honestly. 

Seconds later, the door to the back of the shop and storage room opened and the familiar face of the woman who had hired you stepped into view. “Oh, Y/N!” she greeted happily; much more enthusiastically and welcoming than her son. “Sorry about that, I was just getting some last minute things together.” She eyed her son out of the corner of her eye and noted the fresh embers in the ashtray. “I hope you haven’t been waiting long.”

“No, I just got here,” you told her. 

“Good.” She smiled sweetly before turning to her son. “Well, you can head out now, Keishin. Thank you for watching the counter.”

“Yeah,” the man, Keishin, grunted as he untied the apron from around his waist, slipped it over his head, and hung it up on a hook behind the counter. “See ya.”

With that, Keishin left, leaving you and his mother alone. Wasting no time, Mrs. Sakanoshita, whom the store was named after, got right to work on teaching you the basics and gifting you with a white apron of your own to wear while on the job. Since it was the middle of the day and the customer flow was relatively slow, she introduced you to how the register and scanner at the counter worked before moving on to unpacking boxes.

Just like you had promised on your resume and during the interview, you were a quick learner and Mrs. Sakanoshita was more than pleased to see you picking up the job quickly and efficiently. 

By the time the after work/school rush of patrons picking up items on their way home had begun, you were feeling confident in your abilities and, with your boss by your side to answer any questions you may have, you checked out customer after customer, building up muscle memory for scanning items, collecting cash, opening the register, handing out receipts, and sending customers on their merry way. 

All in all, the job was quickly growing on you. You liked the fact that, for the most part, you were the only employee on duty, so when there weren’t any customers in the store, you could work silently on unpacking boxes without having to worry about making small talk or being friendly with any coworkers. In fact, as far as you knew, the only people who worked at the store at all were you, Mrs. Sakanoshita, and her son, Keishin. 

It seemed as though you had really landed a sweet gig. 

After showing you how to lock up, Mrs. Sakanoshita headed home for the night, leaving you to finish stocking the shelves and cleaning the shop before you would head home as well.

Now that you were truly the only person left, you walked over to the old radio you had spotted on the counter during training that day and fiddled with the dials, trying to get some music playing to accompany you during your evening chores. After some careful handiwork and enduring some horrendous static and high-pitched screeching while searching for a station, you settled on what sounded like some old instrumental music and got to work on stocking the remaining shelves.

Throughout your shift, you quickly learned that the store got quite warm during the day and you had needed to tie your hair up to keep the back of your neck from dripping with sweat. The night wasn’t much better either, especially since the lack of customers so late meant that the doors rarely opened, keeping the cold night air outside and the warm store air inside. 

After finishing the last box of supplies, you exhaled and wiped your brow. You were exhausted, that was for sure, but you still had to sweep. 

Deciding to take a quick break, you turned toward the floor-to-ceiling fridges at the back of the shop and pulled open the door, sighing happily when the cool air hit your skin. Exhaling slowly, you snickered when you saw your breath fog up in front of you face. 

“You’re letting all the cold air out.”

You shrieked when you heard a voice in your right ear and slammed the fridge door shut, jumping back in the process. Thanks to the music from the radio and the loud hum of the generator that kept the fridges cold, you hadn’t heard the front doors slide open or the footsteps of Keishin approaching you.

“Jesus!” You clamped your hand over your chest. “You scared the shit out of me!”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Sorry?”

“What are you doing here?”

Keishin glared at you. “You work here one day and suddenly act like you own the place?”

Realizing how rude your question had come across, you composed yourself and rephrased. “What I meant was, your mom didn’t say you were coming back.”

Pointing upward, Keishin sighed, disinterested. “I live in the apartment above the shop.”

“Oh.” Things started making much more sense and you suddenly felt pretty embarrassed for how you had reacted. 

“Yeah . . . oh.” He rolled his eyes, but it didn’t come across necessarily rude but more like he was exhausted and you were adding to said exhaustion. “Why were you standing with the door open anyway?”

As he spoke, he stepped toward you. At first, your feet felt cemented to the floor and you didn’t move. But when he persisted closer, you eventually stumbled back and Keishin opened the fridge door you had been standing in front of to grab a beer from inside. With drink in hand, he eyed you once again, waiting for an answer.

“It’s really hot,” you said, gesturing to his orange sweater. “I don’t know how you wear that thing in here.”

Looking down at his apparel, he just shrugged. “You’ll get used to it.” He turned and started for the counter, presumably to pay for the drink he had just taken. “In the future, stand outside if you’re warm.”

“Okay.” You nodded, mindlessly tailing him. You had to grab the broom from behind the counter anyway, but that was the furthest thing from the front of your mind at that moment. If anything, you were still trying to calm down a little from being startled and now being alone with your boss’s son. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” He popped the tab on the beer, settled into the stool behind the counter, and downed at least half of the drink in a few large gulps. 

You watched him, probably a little too closely, and as you did you found yourself reexamining the features you had taken note of earlier that day: the dyed blonde hair held out of his face with a thin black headband, the natural brown hair that peeked out from the roots, the two small silver hoop earrings in his left ear, the scent of cigarette smoke that clung to him like how the smell of rain clung to the air after a heavy storm. 

Noticing your gaze, which would have been nearly impossible to miss, Keishin quirked a brow at you and held out the can of beer toward you. “You want a sip?”

Startled from your thoughts, you shook your head. “I’m only 18.” You reminded him.

“Oh, right.” He withdrew the can and took another sip, this one much smaller than the first few. “Then why are you looking at me like that?”

Eyes wide, you thought quick to come up with an excuse. “The broom.” You pointed to the item behind him. “Can you pass me the broom?”

After handing you the broom, Keishin pulled a slip of paper and a pen out from his pocket and started writing and scribbling things down, sipping the remainder of his beer occasionally and ignoring you completely. 

Trying to avoid staring at Keishin anymore than you already had, you started sweeping at the far end of the store and left the area around and behind the counter for last. Eventually, though, you had worked your way back over to the the silent man and was forced to clean the floor behind where he was sitting, trying hard not to disturb him.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of what he was so focused on; it looked like a crude drawing of a volleyball court. “What’s that?” you asked, the words leaving your mouth before you realized you were being rude again and snooping.

Keishin, however, didn’t seem angry or annoyed in the slightest. “Volleyball positions,” he huffed. It was clear he was growing frustrated.

“You play volleyball?”

He shook his head and looked over his shoulder at you. “I used to. Now I coach the boy’s team at Karasuno.”

“I went to Karasuno,” you said mindlessly, just trying to make conversation at that point. 

He hummed in response and turned his attention back to the sheet before him. “Did you play volleyball?”

“No. Soccer.”

“Do you still play?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Do you still play volleyball?”

“With a neighbourhood association sometimes . . . but not really.”

“Why?”

The corners of his mouth curling up into a smirk, Keishin looked back to you once more. “I asked you first.”

“It’s not a good answer.” You leaned against the broom handle and sighed. “Don’t have the time.”

“You’re young and just graduated high school. You’ve got nothing but time.”

“Not with this job.”

Keishin scoffed, folded the paper, and shoved it back into his pocket with the pen. “Speaking of which, why would you take such a boring job at a store like this?”

You just shrugged. “I need the money.”

“Don’t you live with your parents?”

“That’s the problem,” you said, noticing the confusion on his face. “I told you it wasn’t a good answer.”

“Do they know you work here?”

“Do they know? Yes,” you answered truthfully. “Do they like it? Absolutely not.”

Keishin grinned at that before finishing his beer and tossing the empty can into the recycling bin beside the front door. “So you’re one of those teens, huh?”

You frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Trust me, kid, pissing off your parents just for the sake of it isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

“You think I’m doing all this just because I can?”

“Aren’t you?”

“No.”

“Why then?”

“That story’s too long and convoluted for me to recite right now . . . especially to some old dude I just met today.”

Keishin chuckled under his breath, hands stuffed into his pockets as he headed for the door at the back of the shop so he could head upstairs to his apartment. “’Old dude’,” he repeated, clearly amused. “Don’t forget to lock up before you go home.”

As he turned his back to you, your curiosity got the better of you. “How old are you?”

Stopping in his tracks, Keishin pulled out a carton of cigarettes from his pants’ pocket along with a lighter. After placing the smoke between his lips, he lit it and inhaled deeply. “Too old for you, sweetheart,” he spoke while exhaling, smoke spilling from his lips as he smirked at you. 

With that, he disappeared into the back. You wanted to shout after him that you had told him how old you were without hesitation when he had asked, but you stayed silent instead. 

As much as his presence unnerved you and his superiority complex aggravated you, you still found yourself inexplicably drawn to him. Maybe it was because he seemed completely disinterested in you, or maybe it was because he was everything you were always told to stay away from. 

The one thing you did know, however, was that if everyone around you was going to keep trying to convince you they knew how you should live your life better than you did, you were going to prove to them just how they wrong they were one way or another. 

[homoose]

Teach Me Something I Don’t Know: Part VII

Summary: Spencer’s unresolved trauma catches up with him. Reader gets her heart broken.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: angst, I’m so sorry guys

Warnings/Includes: brief mention of violence and details of a case; brief mention of prison, past trauma; a lil self-loathing and self-sabotaging

Word count: 3.8k

a/n: I knew that this was where this story was going from the very beginning. The dialogue is one of the first parts I had written. It still hurts. Relevant to the story: I operate with the understanding that the Jeid arc does not exist, which also means that Spencer never went to therapy in season 15. Also, huge thanks to @reidscanehand​ for beta-ing and just generally being my hype person!!!!

Song Recs: Shrike by Hozier; Better As a Memory by Kenny Chesney (don’t come for me if Spencer made playlists this would ABSOLUTELY be on there)

Series Masterlist

———

Spencer made his way to Emily’s office, ignoring the team’s eyes on him— varying degrees of understanding, concern, and uncertainty plain on their faces. As he reached the threshold, he paused for a second before moving into her line of sight. When he moved into the doorway, she looked up and waved him in. He closed the door behind him.

She gestured to the chair in front of her desk. Spencer hesitated for only a split second, but it was long enough for her to notice. He lowered himself into the chair and met her eyes.

She folded her hands on top of the desk. “How are you feeling?”

He drummed his fingers across his kneecaps. “I’m fine.”

It was a lie, and they both knew it. She bit back a sigh and flipped open the folder in front of her. “I’m finished with the official report. I wanted to go over it with you before I submit it to the director.” She looked at him briefly before reading out the report. “On January 9th, our team pursued a lead at the residence of suspect Andrew Hurley. We divided into teams to cover the two entrances to the home, as well as the barn behind the house.”

Spencer fidgeted slightly in his chair and rubbed the tips of his fingers together. Emily continued, “During the raid, Supervisory Special Agent Spencer Reid became separated from the team and was ambushed and disarmed by the suspect in the barn.” She paused but didn’t look at him. “The team was unaware of the altercation for some time, during which Dr. Reid employed various approved restraint methods and was ultimately forced to utilize self-defense measures to preserve his own life. Consequently, Mr. Hurley sustained serious injuries.”

She did look at him then, a steady and unrelenting gaze that had him shrinking inside himself. “However, I have determined that Dr. Reid’s actions were justified in order to maintain his own safety.” She returned her eyes to the report. “Mr. Hurley was detained and treated for his injuries at Sebastian River Medical Center, and he is expected to make a full recovery. Based on the cognitive interviews and physical evidence, a grand jury hearing is scheduled for January 25th.” She brought her hands to rest on top of the report.

“I’ll sign off on it and deliver it to the director by the end of business today.” She let out the sigh she’d been holding back. “Reid.”

He pressed his mouth into a thin line, torn between shame and vindication. “Emily.”

“What happened in that barn was unacceptable. And I need you to recognize that.” Her eyes were back on him, a leader’s gaze boring into a weak link. “You went against a direct order. You put your life in danger unnecessarily, and in the process you endangered this entire team. Furthermore, you could have cost us the ability to close this case, to put Hurley away and bring justice to his victims.”

“It won’t happen again,” he assured her.

“No, it won’t.” Her tone told him that if it did, he’d have bigger problems than a meeting in her office. “My recommendation to the director is that you transition to your next mandatory leave cycle early.”

“I can handle—”

“It’s not a request. You’re on sabbatical starting tomorrow. That’s an order, and one you’d do well to follow.” She closed the file in front of her. “We’ll see you back in the bullpen on March 7th.”

“I don’t need more time off, Emily,” Spencer snapped.

He could see her grind her teeth together at his tone, but he couldn’t seem to care enough to feel contrite. She took a deep breath in through her nose, leveling him with a pointed look. “If Simmons hadn’t broken it up, you’d have killed Hurley on the floor of that barn.”

His mind snapped back to the lifeless eyes of Hurley’s victims— eight year old boys in shallow graves. Boys who died afraid, and in pain, and crying out for their mothers. His thoughts raced to the feel of Hurley’s throat under his arm, the crack of the zygomatic under his fist. Emily was right of course. If Matt hadn’t found them in the barn and dragged him up and off of Hurley’s nearly lifeless body, Spencer would have killed him without compunction.

“Reid.” The stern edge was gone from her voice. Spencer refocused his eyes on her face, now showcasing an underlying concern that made his stomach turn. “I’m not recommending another cycle of mandatory counseling at this time, although I reserve the right to require it moving forward. But… I’m asking you to take care of yourself. You’ve been through a lot in the last two years. More than a lot.”

“I said I’m fine,” he insisted, but there was less fire behind it this time.

“And I’m not saying you aren’t,” she countered. “But I am saying that the person in that barn… that wasn’t you. That was not the Reid that I know.” Emily tilted her head and furrowed her brow. “The Reid I know uses his intellect and empathy to see angles that the rest of us miss. He depends on the strength of his mind and his unwavering compassion to diffuse conflicts without violence. He invites his friends to foreign film showings and puppet theater.”

When he didn’t budge, she let out a long breath. “I want you to take the next fifty days to find that Reid and bring him back to us.”

...

Y/N dropped into her desk chair with a huff. They’d been back from winter break for two weeks, and she already needed another vacation. But tomorrow was Friday, and then they had a long weekend. She could make it through one more day.

She closed her eyes for a long moment, tired in the way that only kindergarten teachers fresh off a long break can be. She heard the click of Anita’s shoes coming before she even entered the room, and Y/N couldn’t stop the twitch of her lips.

“Dude. How is it only Thursday?” Anita flopped down into the plush Calm Corner chair.

“This has been the longest week of my life,” Y/N agreed. “My kids were off the chain.”

“There is so much drama in middle school right now,” Anita groaned. “I can’t keep up with all the tea, and you know how I love to stay up to date on the freshest brews.” She shot Y/N a look. “Speaking of, where’s the good doctor?”

“I think they’ve had a lot going on at work,” Y/N surmised. “I haven’t seen Mrs. Jareau in over a month.”

“Well, I’m getting antsy,” Anita complained. “Thought for sure you’d be going steady by now.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help but feel a little impatient herself. If she’d known it would be this long before she’d see him again, she might have made a move when he’d volunteered. Then again, probably not. She sighed.

Her phone chimed with an email message, and she automatically swiped the screen open to read it.

Spencer Reid Re:

Are you free today? If you are, I’ll be at Soho.

...

Spencer sat at the table in the corner of the coffee shop. He sipped absentmindedly at his tea, almost gone cold. He hadn’t waited for a reply before leaving Quantico. He drove straight to the city, figuring he’d wait at Soho until he felt some semblance of calm returning to his body.

He didn’t know why he’d emailed Y/N, and he wasn’t sure he really wanted her to show up. Usually he’d talk to Penelope or maybe JJ. But he’d wanted to get as far from the BAU as possible, and he didn’t want to drag Penelope away from the colorful, safe corner of the world she’d created for herself. He didn’t want to fill it with all the tragedy she’d tried so hard to leave behind.

If Y/N did show, he was certain he could keep the conversation vague, focus on her and the classroom, ask her about her holidays. She wasn’t a profiler, didn’t know his tells well enough. She’d be none the wiser, and he’d have her warmth and presence to focus his energy on, if only for a few hours.

Every time the bell chimed, his eyes flew to the door, searching for her. He knew it was ridiculous. He’d only known her for one hundred and eleven days. Pragmatically, he knew she shouldn’t be the one he wanted to talk to. Realistically, he wasn’t planning to burden her with all of the mess of the past week, the past year, his entire life.

But in the six hundred and forty seven minutes he’d spent with her since September, he’d felt more like himself than he ever had. He was never afraid to be himself with her— the silly story voices, the ridiculous costume, the magic trick, the vulnerability about his mom. All of these pieces of himself were things he usually waited years to show people. It had taken her a matter of weeks to draw them out.

He couldn’t help but believe that if he wanted to, he could tell her everything. She’d know exactly what to say. She’d listen for as long as he could keep talking. She’d cover his shaking hands and wrap him up in the warmth of her spirit. She’d give of herself to guide him back to the person he used to be. She’d be more than willing to use her radiance to illuminate the dark so that he might have a little light again.

The bell sounded, and his eyes focused, and there she was. She was wrapped up in a puffed jacket, a bright blue scarf tied around her neck. Her nose was adorably red from the cold, and she rubbed her hands together as the door closed behind her. Her eyes found him immediately. A small smile turned up the corners of her mouth, and she gave him an enthusiastic wave. And he knew that he was right about all of it.

She approached the table, unwinding her scarf. “Hi!”

“Hi.”

Her eyes flickered over his face, and then settled on his mostly empty mug. “I’ll get you a refill, and then we’ll catch up?”

He nodded, and she headed to the counter. There had been a part of him that thought she wouldn’t come, but of course she did. For some reason, unbeknownst to him, she liked talking to him. Even among his closest friends, he was often made to feel self-conscious about his tendency to ramble, but Y/N had literally asked him to. She sought him out, asked him questions, listened intently, and remembered things he’d told her. She was kind and thoughtful and genuine. Of course she came when he called.

She returned with two mugs, carefully setting them down on the tiny table. She unzipped and removed her jacket, hanging it on the back of her chair and revealing a crew neck sweater covered in tiny astronauts and rocket ships. When she sat across from him, her hands wrapped around the mug and her eyes met his.

“Hi.”

He couldn’t stop his lips from twitching, despite the events of the day. “You said that already.”

She laughed, and he felt the weight begin to lift. “Yeah, well, I haven’t seen you in forever, so— I’m just making up for lost time.”

“Sixty one days.”

“Hmm?”

“It’s been sixty one days, eighty eight minutes, and approximately,” he looked at his watch, “fourteen seconds since we saw each other last.”

She laughed again, and his mouth completed its curve. She tucked her hair behind her ear. “I like that you’ve been counting.” She let her chin come to rest in her hand, eyes studying his face. “How are you?”

He wanted to lie, but she was looking at him so earnestly that he mumbled out, “I’m managing.”

She mirrored the way he’d looked at her across this same table nearly three months ago. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really.” That was a lie, too. But asking her to meet him was enough of a burden.

“Okay. Well, if you change your mind at any point, let me know.” She wiggled her eyebrows at him. “Until then, I can just regale you with all the kindergarten stories you’ve missed while you were out saving lives.”

And regale him she did. For almost an hour, he listened to her tales of love (budding crushes were taking over recess time), loss (the class pet— a stuffed zebra— had accidentally taken a swim in the Atlantic on a vacation to Florida), and lessons learned…

“So, in case there was ever any doubt, we are now painfully aware that we shouldn’t attempt to flush our underwear.” Y/N let out an exasperated laugh.

She’d been talking to him for fifty three minutes, and his heart already felt one thousand times lighter. “I’m really glad I wasn’t there for that one.”

“I really wish that was the only poop story I had.” She shook her head. “There are a lot of things they don’t tell you in grad school. I think there’d be a global teacher shortage if they warned you about the amount of bodily fluid management involved in teaching kindergarten.”

She toyed with the edge of her empty mug. He watched the movement of her fingers.

“Do you—”

“Do you—”

She laughed and gestured for him to speak first.

“Do you want to get out of here?”

…

They ended up in Mitchell Park. The trees were bare and the grass was brown, but he was with her, and so it was beautiful.

They’d been walking in comfortable silence, when she asked, “Did you change your mind? About talking about it.”

Spencer put his hands into his pockets. “It’s, um— it’s kind of a lot.”

She shrugged. “I’ve got time.”

“I don’t mean— I mean, it would take some time to get through it all. But it’s also— it’s a lot.”

“We don’t have to.” He could feel her eyes on him. “Do you talk to— someone about it?”

“I talked with my unit chief today,” he answered.

“Okay. But— I mean, have you ever— talked to someone. Like, a professional.”

Spencer bristled slightly. Although he knew she wasn’t passing judgement, her question exposed the reality that she thought he could use it. “I’ve had some mandated counseling over the years.”

“Obviously it’s your choice whether you talk to someone or not,” she mused. “I just— I know that I’ve benefited a lot from seeing my therapist.”

Spencer was unsure of what to do with that information. Here she was, confessing that she went to therapy— sweet, lovely Y/N. In comparison, he wasn’t sure if even daily meetings with a counselor would be enough to tame the darkness that had grown and festered inside him over the years. That sometimes threatened to swallow him whole.

For a long while, there was only the crunch of the frozen ground beneath their feet. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but there was an uncertainty about them that felt uncharacteristically heavy. He was hyper aware of her presence, and so he felt her pace slowing down before she came to a complete stop. He walked a few more paces before it became clear that she wasn’t planning to catch up.

He turned and saw that she’d taken a seat on one of the park benches. He carefully made his way to the bench, sitting beside her quietly. She didn’t look at him, but instead studied her fingernails intently. She cracked her knuckles once, twice, and then turned her body slightly toward him on the bench.

“I’m sorry if I overstepped,” she hedged carefully. “I didn’t mean to tell you what to do, or like, imply that there’s anything wrong with you. There’s nothing wrong with you at all. I just—”

“It’s fine,” Spencer assured her. The way she looked at him then— like he was something fragile, delicate— made his eyes burn. He kept his voice even. “I know what you meant.”

She smiled, eyes crinkling and filled with something that felt familiar and far away all at once. “Good. I can’t have you out here thinking you’re anything less than wonderful.”

He couldn’t stop looking at her, attempting to solve the impossible cypher behind her irises. As he failed to decode it, his inability to read her blinded him to what came next. He missed the dilation of her pupils, the way her tongue darted out to wet her lips, the increase of the beats in her carotid. So when she leaned in and pressed her mouth to his, he was momentarily paralyzed.

Her lips were so soft against his slightly chapped ones, pressing with a perfectly gentle pressure. She brought her hand up to cradle his cheek, the pads of her fingers just barely ghosting the curls falling around his ear. She sighed into his mouth and pressed a little closer. He took one peaceful moment to bask in the realization of a desire he’d had for almost four months.

And then she swiped the very tentative tip of her tongue against the seam of his mouth, and his hands involuntarily wound into her hair, dragging her closer. He opened his mouth against hers to swallow her sweet little gasp. His grip on her hair tightened, and she let out the tiniest mewl, and like a switch had flipped— suddenly his mind was full of the darkness she’d spent the evening chasing away.

Y/N beneath him in the dark. Maeve in a pool of blood. His hands around Cat’s neck. His mother’s slap against his cheek. Max walking away from him. His fingers pressing the plunger on a dirty syringe. The slam of the door behind his father. Y/N calling out his name. A knife at his throat under a canopy of bones. Innumerable sets of lifeless eyes staring up at him. His life being snuffed out on the dirt floor of a shed. The clanging of metal bars and fingers ghosting over old bruises. Y/N looking at him with warm, loving eyes. The violent crack of bone underneath his fists. Y/N’s face, lovely and perfect— and then twisted in pain.

He broke away from her, releasing his hold on her hair and pushing her back into the bench. He took a second to gather himself before he dared to look at her. Her hair was tousled from his rough grip; her eyes were half-lidded and focused on him; her lips were red and kiss-bruised and turned up in a small, sweet smile.

And all at once he knew he had to hurt her, and it had to be now. Because what Cat had said about him was true. He might have escaped his mother’s illness, but he hadn’t been able to outrun the violence— and unlike her, he didn’t have the excuse of being sick. He had hurt people, and he had enjoyed it. He would have killed Hurley, and he would have slept soundly. He was no better than the men his team hunted.

Every time he thought he’d moved past it, that wickedness lurking just under the surface would grab him by the throat, choking everything else out. Emily’s directive rang in his ears. Find that Reid and bring him back to us. He knew who she was talking about. The problem was, he wasn’t sure that person still existed.

He was going to hurt Y/N eventually. Better to do it now, before things got too far.

“You’re Michael’s teacher,” he said, as evenly as possible.

Her smile faltered, and she pressed her lips together. He could still feel the phantom press of them against his own, and he was sure he’d never forget it. She cleared her throat. “You’re right, you’re totally right. I, um— I won’t be in a few months, and maybe then—”

“You don’t even know me,” he interrupted.

Now there was confusion in her eyes. That much he could read. She huffed out a small laugh. “I— I don’t think that’s entirely true.”

He looked directly at her. “Why? Because you read my bio on a university website? Because we got tea a couple times?” His voice sounded harsh, patronizing, and he hated it.

Her confusion shifted into shock, and he ignored the tug on his heart. “Are you serious?” she questioned, genuinely searching for a sign that he was joking.

“Dead serious.” He shrugged, and it felt like his bones were breaking. “You don’t really know anything about me, Y/N. If you did, you wouldn’t be sitting here right now.”

“Where— where is this coming from?” Her voice was small, close to breaking. He lined up the last nail on the lid of the coffin.

“Maybe I gave you the wrong impression. I’ve appreciated talking to you. Volunteering in your classroom was entertaining. But I don’t— I don’t see you that way.” It was a lie, and if he didn’t have such a practiced poker face, she might have seen through it. As it was, his poker face had helped get him banned from every casino in Vegas, so he watched her as he hammered the final nail. “You’re just Michael’s kindergarten teacher.”

“Oh.” The hurt flashed across her features— the furrow of her brow, the tightening of her mouth, the storm clouds in her eyes. “Well, I— I really read this wrong, huh?” She laughed, but there was no humor in it.

“Yeah.” He put his hands into his pockets to keep himself from reaching for her, the desire to comfort her a strange juxtaposition to the pain he was intentionally inflicting on her. “I guess so.”

She opened and closed her mouth twice before taking a deep breath and nearly whispering, “Okay. Well. I’m— I’m gonna go.”

She brushed some imaginary dust from her pants and then stood. She turned to him, and he waited for her to explode— to scream and curse at him. But it didn’t come. She didn’t look at him at all. “Um— yeah. I’m gonna go.”

He didn’t say anything, and he knew she’d take his silence as indifference. But he had to keep his mouth shut, because if he didn’t, he’d beg her to stay. He’d tell her every single random piece of information he had stored in his brain. He’d tell her that he loved her from the moment he watched her help a child pick a solution from a pencil box. He’d tell her that he only ever dreamt of two things these days— her or the lives he didn’t save. He’d tell her every single one of his deepest, darkest secrets. He’d tell her that sometimes he was so afraid of himself that he could barely breathe. And if he told her all of that, she’d walk away anyway.

So instead, he watched her turn and start back up the path, hugging her arms around herself and swiping her cheek against her scarf.

When she disappeared over the slope of the path, he scrubbed his hands over his own damp face and let himself break.

———

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[twomoonstwosuns]

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pairing: professor!poe dameron x reader

warnings: alcohol, swearing maybe, fluff

word count: 5.0k

a/n: THANK YOU FOR BEING PATIENT I’M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. IT HURT ME THAT I STRUGGLED SO MUCH WITH THIS, BUT I HOPE THIS WAS WORTH THE WAIT. we’re going to start getting angsty again so buckle up friends. 

also thank you @dameronsgalaxygal for helping me with my writers block. she is so lovely and if you're not following her you should because girl has quality writing. 

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Patience really was a virtue, except when disruptions stood in the way. 

You left Cabo early that morning and didn’t land in Poe’s hometowns until early evening, six hours after your scheduled arrival time, first due to heavy delays and then a problem with the plane that was found just as boarding was about to begin. 

Walking as fast as you could without running into people, you marched down the jetway, rushed through the halls and down the escalator to baggage claim where Poe would meet you. He saw you hurrying towards him and he stood from the bench he was sitting on.

“Finally!” He threw his arms out to the side in frustration that matched yours. You rolled your eyes. 

“I know, I’m annoyed.”

“So, what was the problem with the plane?”

You groaned as you stopped in front of him and crossed your arms. “Something about the air vents not blowing cool air? I don’t remember what they said, I was too busy being mad that half a day was wasted stuck at an airport. I’m tired and hungry and not particularly thrilled that I’m about to go meet your dad feeling all pissed off and annoyed.”

Poe stepped into your space, placing both hands on your cheeks and pulling your mouth to his in a slow kiss. Your eyes fluttered closed.

“Still mad?” Poe asked quietly when he pulled back, his lips still ghosting over yours as he moved his arms around your waist. You gave him a half smile as your arms uncrossed and rested on top of his.

“Kinda.”

Poe kissed you again, putting a little more pressure against your lips.

“How about now?” Your smile curved upwards more and you bit your lip.

“Maybe a little bit still.”

Poe smirked and kissed you a third time, pulling you closer into him. You giggled against his mouth as he lifted you off the ground, your arms coming up around his neck to hold onto him. You broke apart as the corral alarm sounded. 

“Ok, now I’m feeling better,” you said as he set you down gently, keeping you held in his embrace. “I’m so glad to see you.”

“Me too. And I’m glad you’re here. Should we go?”

“Please.”

Poe grabbed your hand and you waited for your suitcase to appear. You were back to groaning in annoyance as you stood for another ten minutes next to the corral waiting for your bag. When you finally had it, you followed Poe out of the airport. 

You told him more about your vacation, how you discovered on your last full day that you were terrified of parasailing, but you were glad you did it because it was something you’d always wanted to try. Poe told you about Rey twisting her ankle three miles away from their car and how he and Finn switched off carrying her so she wouldn’t hurt it worse. 

Your leg bounced nervously as Poe pulled up in front of a house, your heart pounding in your ears. You didn’t even realize Poe had cut the engine until you felt his hand squeezing your knee and heard the silence that filled the car. 

“You’ll be fine,” he assured you. “He’s excited to meet you.”

You took a deep breath and nodded. Poe took your suitcase from the trunk of the car and you followed him up to the front door. 

“Dad? We’re back!”

There was a moment of shuffling followed by footsteps and then Kes Dameron was in front of you. You marveled at their similarities. Poe was definitely his father’s son, from the shared skin tone to the same relaxed, easy smile they were both giving you. 

“You must be Y/N,” Kes said, taking a step towards you with his hand outstretched. He and Poe even sounded similar. You took his hand and shook it. 

“It’s so nice to meet you.”

“Likewise. I hope you’re hungry, I’ve got dinner waiting.”

“You go ahead,” Poe said, grabbing your attention and heading towards the stairs. “I’ll bring this upstairs.”

“Come in, come in, make yourself comfortable,” Kes said, holding his arm out to invite you further into his home. You followed him to the kitchen, wringing your hands nervously in front of you.

“Anything I can do to help?” You asked, looking around at the food that was going to make its way to the dining room. 

“You can tell me what you’d like to drink. Beer, wine, soda..?”

“Water would just fine, actually. Between the waiting the flight itself, I didn’t drink much today.”

“So, what happened that caused such a delay?” Kes asked as he grabbed a glass of ice water for you. “I’ve done my fair share of flying and I’ve never had a delay that long.”

“There was some bad weather, then there was a problem with the plane. And then it took forever to get my suitcase.” You let out a dry laugh as you took your glass. “I just couldn’t catch a break today.”

“Well, I’m glad you made it safe.”

You smiled appreciatively at him and grabbed a bowl to bring out to the table. Poe met you in there and went to the kitchen to grab himself something to drink. He came back to the table and Kes handed you a bowl of vegetables first to help yourself to. 

“The food is delicious,” you said after taking a few bites.

“Do you cook at all?”

“I can make a few things, but nothing like this.” You said, taking a bite of food. “Though I do make a mean soup that’ll kick any sickness you have.”

Poe hummed in agreement. 

“Ah see, that’s one thing I don’t have,” Kes said. “Any chance I could steal it from you?”

“Secret family recipe, I don’t think they’ll forgive me if I did that.”

“I understand. Maybe next time.” Your heart pounded at next time; ten minutes into meeting him and he was talking about next time already. “So tell me about yourself.”

You told Kes all about the most relevant things in your life at that moment in between bites of food. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were until you saw food in front of you that wasn’t a bag of airplane pretzels. You’d talked more about yourself in the last month than you had ever in your life, between meeting Poe’s friends and now his dad. Kes listened intently, asking questions about your family and interests that proved to you he was making an effort and wasn’t just being polite for show. Any nervousness you had felt going into this first meeting was slowly fading. 

“You’re currently a student?” Kes asked, though his tone wasn’t harsh or accusatory. You hummed as you nodded. “I couldn’t remember if Poe said you were or not.”

“I graduate in May, so I will be a former student soon.”

“And what does the university say about you being…you know, together?” Kes looked between you and Poe. 

“It’s technically against the rules,” Poe answered.“I don’t really know what would happen to her, but I know there’s consequences for me. Which is why we don’t go anywhere and the only people on campus who know are her roommates.”

You half expected to get a lecture on making sure you remain careful, but it never came. Food was cleared from plates and the three of you sat with happy stomachs, making no effort to ditch the conversation to clean up. 

“How’d you guys get acquainted?” A playful smirk slowly spread across Kes’ face. “Did you see each other across the room and think ‘wow’?”

“Actually, yeah,” Poe said and your jaw dropped a little as you looked at him. He just glanced at you with a small smile. “She took one of my half-semester classes last fall. I immediately thought she was beautiful, got to know her over the two months, ran into her outside of class after it finished and we chatted—“

Poe nudged your foot with his as you stifled a laugh. Chatting was definitely the least scandalous thing that went down on Halloween, but Kes didn’t need those details. 

“—and we got to know each other better until I couldn’t not ask her out.”

You gave him a small smile. “You never told me that.”

Poe just shrugged with a small smirk on his face and you grinned at him. It was similar to what you thought when you first stepped into his classroom. You briefly recalled seeing him come in and whispering ‘holy shit’ under your breath, giggling together with your friend about how attractive your professor was on the way to get lunch. You got to know him as well as he got to know all of his students, the picture of Beebs as his computer background making you just melt. Then you harbored a small crush on him for the rest of the semester that you finally did something about thanks to a little alcohol on Halloween night. 

A yawn suddenly escaped your lips, making Kes chuckle. “Why don’t you go get some rest?”

“I’m good, I can help with the dishes.”

“It’s ok hon, we’ve got it. You’re tired and you’ve had a long day. Go get some rest.”

You smiled appreciatively. “Thanks, Mr. Dameron.”

“Kes, please.” He glanced over at Poe. “She’s been down here since you guys got here, why don’t you get her settled upstairs and then come help me clean up.”

You quietly giggled at Kes telling Poe what to do like he was a teenager. Poe put a hand on your back and led you out of the dining room as you waved a friendly ‘good night’ to Kes. You followed Poe up the stairs into the bedroom that he explained was the one he had as a kid.

“Dad said we can share a room as long as there’s ‘no funny business’.”

“Oh my god,” you giggled as you put a hand to your face. 

“I was half expecting Spider-Man sheets and Sports Illustrated: Swimsuit Edition posters on the walls.”

“He took them all down when I moved out,” Poe teased, leaning against the door. “Bathroom’s right next door. And by the way? I told you you’d be fine.”

He chuckled as he ducked out the door when you balled up and threw your sweatshirt at him. When he was out of sight, you let out a breath and mumbled an ‘ok’ under your breath as you grabbed what you needed for the shower and headed into the bathroom. You had made it through dinner, answered the questions Kes had about your relationship without it turning awkward or hearing thinly-veiled insults disguised around advice about being careful. 

The hot water of the shower felt heavenly on your sore muscles but felt like needles poking your skin when it made contact with the places you got sunburned. You washed the feeling of stuffy airports and cramped airplanes off of your hair and body, the idea of curling up in bed and sleeping in in the morning very enticing. 

You kept your shower quick to not take up all the hot water and quickly dressed into a big t-shirt and sleep shorts before brushing your teeth. Going back to the room, you saw Poe with his legs outstretched in front of him, leaning against the headboard. You dropped your clothes into your suitcase, grabbing a bottle of aloe vera before sitting down in front of him. 

“I really hate to be this person, but do you think your dad likes me? Or do I need to try harder, maybe mention something he really likes to find some common ground?”

“No, he really likes you.” His statement ended more like a question and you furrowed your brow at him. “What’s in your hand?”

You waved the bottle in front of him. “Aloe. I got a little burned on my back. Help me out?”

Poe nodded and shifted to sit up more. You moved to sit between his legs and he slowly lifted the back of your shirt. 

“A little burnt? Did you even put sunscreen on?”

“Yes! I thought SPF 30 would be enough!”

Poe snickered as he put the aloe vera in his hands and gently rubbed the cooling gel into your skin, a shiver running through you as it immediately started working. He spread it around evenly and massaged it in so it wouldn’t transfer onto your shirt.

“So what’s the but?”

“What but?”

“‘He really likes you’…but?” Poe didn’t say anything and you sigh. “Come on, I can tell by the sound of your voice there’s something else.”

Poe stopped massaging your back, allowing his thumb to run gently down your spine. 

“He did say something.”

You twisted the top half of your body as far as you could so you could look at Poe and he allowed your shirt to fall back down. His expression was unreadable, but not sad or worried. 

“Not about you. He really does like you, he told me he thinks you’re fantastic. And I’m pretty sure he doesn’t have a problem with the fact that you’re my student as long as we’re careful. Which we are.”

“Then what is it?”

“He just reminded me that I’m in my thirties and you’re in your twenties.”

You nodded slowly in understanding. 

“And people in their twenties are typically partying and getting blackout drunk on the weekends and hooking up with tons of people and not thinking about serious relationships,” you said and Poe nodded. “I get it.” 

You rested your hand on top of the one Poe had on your knee. “I mean, I like grabbing drinks with my friends and maybe going to a club or something but going out every weekend? That’s not really my thing. And the random hookups? Overrated, in my opinion.”

Poe laced your fingers together. “That’s what I told him.”

“He just wants what’s best for you. They’re valid concerns. My mom will probably have the same concerns when I tell her.” You let go of Poe’s hand to gently run your finger along the underside of his jaw, making him look at you. “Which I’m going to do the next time I see her. I really want her and Tallie to know.”

Poe gave you a half smile as he kissed your finger.

“Your dad is great, by the way,” you said when Poe pulled back to look at you. “And I’m sorry, he might be an even better cook than you.”

Poe’s jaw dropped in mock offense. “Fine, I’ll leave you here and go back by myself and he can make you breakfast on Sunday morning.”

You laughed as leaned your head against his, settling into the comfortable silence broken only by the soft ticking of the clock. You moved so your back was pressed against Poe’s chest once again, his arms encircling your waist as you lean back against him. 

“You know, I was a random hookup.”

You smirked as gently elbowed his stomach. “Yes you were, and you’ve ruined men for me forever so thanks a lot.”

He poked your stomach in retaliation and you laughed quietly. “But look what we got out of it.”

Your head dropped back onto his shoulder, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat completely relaxing you.

“Sometimes I wish it was always this easy,” you said quietly. Poe dropped his head into the crook of your neck, taking a deep breath as he squeezed your waist.

“Yeah, me too.”

》 》 》

“Favorite place you were stationed?”

“Aviano, Italy. It’s this little town in the north surrounded by mountains on one side and the ocean on the other. We were there for a year when Poe was a baby so he probably doesn’t remember much, but I’d love to travel there with him. Maybe stop at a few other places I got to go visit while stationed over there. Have you traveled anywhere in Europe?”

“I almost studied abroad in Spain a few years ago, but the day before I was supposed to leave I ended up getting my appendix taken out, so I didn’t get to go. But I really want to go see the big cities and explore the smaller towns. An old friend of mine did that and he said he found a lot of hidden treasures.”

“Aviano’s got a lot of those, including the best coffee I’ve ever had in all my years here on Earth.”

“Ok well, now I have to go there.”

You had joined Kes in the living room about an hour. Poe had gotten slammed with emails from students with poor excuses for not having homework ready for after break and was dealing with that when you heard noise coming from the TV discussing the results of the previous night’s game. Your comment about Colorado’s lack of quality defense caught his attention and before you knew it, you were watching the highlights with him and making your guesses about who would make it to the playoffs. 

“What made you want to join the Air Force?”

“My father was a pilot. He always told me stories of flying and fighting for his country. I admired him for it. So, when I was drafted at eighteen I knew immediately what branch I wanted to be in.” You saw him glance at a picture on the shelf by the television, one that had him, Poe, and a man you assumed was Poe’s grandfather out on a lake. “I know Poe wanted to continue the tradition and I would’ve loved for him to do that too. But I owe him everything for staying behind and helping me out when I was sick. And he found a career he loves, and that makes me just as proud, so it was all worth it.”

Kes had a proud look on his face and it warmed your heart to hear more about their close relationship. 

“He admires you so much,” you smiled warmly. “The stories he’s told me about growing up, the experiences you guys had together…he’s proud to be your son.”

“Speaking of, hey son.”

You looked behind you and saw Poe leaning against the wall with his jacket and shoes on. 

“How was your nap?” You asked with a smirk and Poe chuckled. 

“It was good,” he said. He held up his car keys. “Wanna take a drive?”

Kes patted your knee and gave you a warm smile. “I’ll meet you guys at Barker’s in an hour.”

You grab your jacket and shoes and follow Poe out to his car. 

“Where are we going?”

Poe just smiled at you. “You’ll see when we get there.”

You drove for about twenty minutes, the soft music from the radio the only sound needed. You noticed some of the trees were already starting to get leaves back, a hopeful sign of spring. You wished there was someway you could bring a little bit of that back to school where, at least when you left for Cabo, there was still dead grass and dirty snow everywhere you looked. 

Poe turned through an open vine-covered gate and you sat up straight when you realized just where you were. 

“Poe, wh—“ Your smile dropped slowly and your heart began to hammer in your chest. Multi-colored stones stood up from the ground, varying in size and shape with pops of colorful flowers scattered across them. “Poe, wait.”

The shakiness in your voice made Poe glance at you. When he saw the worried look on your face, he slowed the car down and pulled off to the side. You looked out the windows before looking at Poe, your eyes glossy with tears. 

“Are you—are you sure you want to take me here?”

Poe furrowed his brow as he put the car in park. “Why wouldn’t I?”

You open your mouth to speak and no words came out, but the look on your face said it all. Poe tilted his head in concern.

“Is that what this is about?” Your eyes cast downward. “Baby…”

Poe reached over and cupped your cheek, cradling it in his hand as he brought your gaze up to him. 

“Are you still hanging onto that?” You nodded. “Why?”

“Because it was the most hurtful thing I could’ve said to you.”

Poe exhaled deeply, his thumb running gently across the spot just underneath your eye. “Baby, it was a stupid fight where we both said stupid things. I’ve forgotten all about it. You should to. Please.”

All you could do was nod. Poe released your face and pulled back onto the road, driving a few minutes deeper into the cemetery before finally stopping and turning back to you. “It’ll just be a few minutes. If you really don’t want to though, we don’t have to.”

You gave him a soft smile. “I want to.”

You got out of the car and Poe immediately grabbed your hand when he came around to your side of the car. 

“Wait,” you said, pulling him back when he took a few steps forward. “I don’t—what do I say?”

Poe walked back to you, squeezing your hand. “You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. I just want you there.”

You nodded and he kissed your temple gently before leading you across the crunchy grass. The sun was shining brightly, mixing wonderfully with the crisp afternoon air. The beautiful day brought out others as well, the hum of their hushed conversations with loved ones floating being carried by the wind. 

Shara’s headstone was near the end of a row that ended right at the fencing. The marble reflected the sun’s rays and shone beautifully. Fresh flowers sat propped up against the stone. 

“We were here yesterday,” Poe explained when you eyed the flowers that had no business being that bright in the cold air. “We come here every time I visit home.”

You didn’t know Shara, but you felt a sense of heartache as you stepped in front of her headstone. 

“Mom, this is Y/N,” Poe said before looking down at you with soft eyes and a matching smile. “She’s beautiful, amazing, funny, kind, selfless…”

You hid your face in Poe’s chest, his sweet words and how he said them with such adoration bringing tears to your eyes. He let go of your hand and put his arm around your shoulder.  You rested your cheek against his jacket.

“…technically my student, but we’re going to pretend she’s not. In fact, sometimes I think she should just take over my class and let me relax. I might be a little biased but…god, she’s so smart.”

You face flushed with color and quietly sniffled, unsure if it was from the cold or the overwhelming rush of emotions. 

“She’s already won over dad. They were talking about Aviano and hockey earlier today. It doesn’t sound like she’s a Colorado fan, though. Oh, and she cannot skate worth a damn. Seriously, it’s embarrassing.” 

You scoffed and nudged him. He just tightened his arm around you. 

“I’m pretty sure Beebs likes her more than me, but she spoils him so that might be it,” He continued. “She’s going to graduate at the top of her class in a few months. And…”

The words were on the tip of his tongue, but when his mind flooded with memories and the what-could’ve-beens, he was overcome with emotion and unable to speak. You looked up at him as you gently rubbed his back.

“You and Kes raised an amazing son.” Your voice shook as you spoke, the feeling of speaking to an inanimate object weird to you, but knowing how important it was to Poe. “He’s the kind of man every mother wants their son to be. You would be so proud of him.”

Poe gazed down in pure adoration at you, a small smile crossing his face. He cleared his throat.  

“Can I have a minute?”

“Of course.”

You reached up and kissed Poe’s cheek and you let your lips linger for a second before squeezing his arm and walking back to the car. Poe waited until you were far enough away before turning back to his mother’s gravestone. 

“If you’d have asked me when I first started teaching that I’d fall for one of my students, I’d have laughed in your face. But she’s not just that to me. She’s…” Poe glanced back at your retreating figure before turning back. “I wish you could’ve met her, mom. You’d really love her. Because I know I do.”

Poe stood in silence for another minute before heading back towards his car. You were patiently leaning against the passenger door, tears coming to your eyes when you saw Poe have a moment with his mother. 

You gave him a small smile and he immediately wrapped you in a hug, placing a kiss on the top of your head. 

“Thank you,” Poe mumbled in your hair. “This meant a lot to me.”

You moved to look up at Poe, smiling softly. “It meant a lot to me, too.”

Poe softly pecked your lips and rested his forehead against yours. 

“I’ve got one more place I want to take you.”

You nod as you got back into the car. As Poe waited for traffic to clear to turn back onto the road, you leaned over and kissed his cheek a second time, giving him another warm smile as you sat back in your seat. Poe turned onto the road and grabbed your hand for the duration of the drive.

You arrived back in town in about ten minutes time, Poe parking in front of a rundown bar that had seen its fair share of love and weather over many many years. Kes’ car was already in the parking lot.

“This is my Maz’s.” Poe explained as you both got out of the car. 

It was a classic small town bar, the kind where the bartenders knew every detail of their regulars’ lives and welcomed everyone by name. Kes was at the counter chatting with the bartender, waving you and Poe over and immediately buying you both a drink. Kes led you to a table where you put your coats and you were about to sit down when Poe eyed something behind him. 

“Want to shoot some pool?”

“Against you? No thanks,” Kes smirked. “I don’t know how you got so damn good but I’m not in the mood to get my ass handed to me in front of people I know.”

“Come on, you should be proud your son is beating you!”

“Well, I’m not.” Kes said. “Fine, I’ll play. But I’m teaming up with Y/N. I need all the help I can get.”

Poe looked over at you and you shrugged as you walked over to the wall to grab a pool cue. Kes racked up the balls as you prepped the pool cue with blue chalk. Poe broke the rack and watched as one of the solid colors got close to a pocket. He tapped it in with the cue ball, making solids his objective and stripes yours and Kes’. 

You lined up the stick with the cue ball, eyeing it for a moment before sending it towards the red striped ball which smoothly sunk into a corner pocket. Kes patted your back as he cheered and Poe looked at you incredulously. All you could do was smirk. 

“Oh yeah, I learned how to play growing up.”

The game was neck and neck and pretty soon Kes wasn’t even playing anymore. He was grabbing drinks for everyone and acting as your personal cheerleader, strategizing with you on what and where you should hit next. And when you sunk the eight ball before Poe had even finished putting away all the solids, Kes cheered and lifted you into a hug.

“I’m only playing against you know if Y/N is here,” he said before going up to the bar to grab another drink. You sat on the edge of the pool table as Poe approached you.

“Who taught you to play?” He asked with a small smile. You gave him a sad smile. 

“My dad.” Poe’s smile dropped and you squeezed his arm. “Once school is done and we can be out, you’ll find out I’m kind of good at darts but terrible at quarters.”

“Alright, so we’ll play quarters so I can beat you at something.”

You stuck your tongue out at him, thankful he went along with the subject change, and he kissed it back into your mouth. Tom Petty’s “Free Fallin’” came over the speakers. You broke away from him, took a long swig of your beer and hopped off the pool table, holding your hand out to Poe. 

“Come dance with me.” Poe just laughed and shook his head. “This is one of my favorite songs! Please?”

You stuck your bottom lip out in an over exaggerated pout. Poe rolls his eyes with a humored smile and drank the rest of his beer before setting the bottle next to yours and taking your outstretched hand. You led him onto the dance floor and you were yanked back by Poe stopping. He pulled you into him and, with a hand on your back and the other holding yours, he moved you along to the music. 

You danced to the mid-tempo song, Poe spinning you under his arm. He surprised you by dipping you and you laughed loudly, clutching onto his shirt so you wouldn’t fall. Poe pulled you back up, holding you closer to him than he previously was. 

Kes smiled at the pair of you from across the bar. Poe had told him you were something special and he saw very clearly why. You were the first girl Poe had brought home to meet Kes in years, but you were the only girl Poe had ever taken to visit Shara, something that he held so closely to his heart. Kes knew then and there that you’d be around for a long time. 

Poe knew it too.

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[angelkurenai]

Imagine having to pretend to be a couple with your boss, Dean, for a case of a serial killer who targets couples and you have to make out the whole while.

“Alright, that's it. If the news say that they also got a letter after this-” you pointed at the photos projected on the white screen in front of the whole team “Then I'm out. I'm not going to be hunting zodiac's ghost now, that's not my department and I'm definitely not paid enough for it. Serial killers I'll take, any day, but their ghosts is a no-go.”

“What? Not a fan of ghosts there, (Y/l/n)?” Gabriel said, loving to tease the living heaven out of you, but you only shot him a glare. You'd have thrown him the object closest to you at the moment but that happened to be your badge and you were sure that if he got his hands on it, he wouldn't return it just to earn a good laugh out of the situation you'd get in. Despite how much you loved the guy as family, he had an impeccable way of getting on your nerves with his jokes. And you weren't the only one.

“Wanna figure that on your own, Gabe, or what? I have my gun right here in case you'd like to try walking through walls, you know.” you challenged back, raising a casual eyebrows as you leaned forward.

“Oh get in the line, honey.” he chuckled “I never took you for one to believe in the supernatural, though.”

“I know I will regret asking, but why is that so?” your best friend, Sam, asked from his seat next to you.

“Well, simple.” Gabriel leaned back in his seat, legs propped up on the table in a way that made you want to roll your eyes. The best team of cops in the entire police station, definitely the entire city and even the state itself and yet... a bunch of five-year-olds. Kids. You worked with kids. “Because she hasn't slept with me to know the ultimate experience of-”

“You finish that sentence then so help me, Gabriel.” this time it wasn't neither you nor Sam, who much like an older brother figure wouldn't hesitate to be protective, that spoke up. It was a much more rough and deep voice that belonged to none other but the leader himself, Dean Winchester. “I'll let you know that (Y/l/n) is not the only who has a gun in this room. So unless you'd like to try another supernatural experience of your own, alone, then keep it shut for the rest of the briefing too.”

At his words, and the tone in his voice, you couldn't help but glance at your chief. His words had indeed made Gabriel shut up, only because he knew that if he pissed the man off about something concerning you then there would be hell to pay. Others had learned so the hard way. The members of the team were different, you were a family after all these years of working together, so it definitely meant Dean was a bit more soft towards them. As much as soft could go on this line of work and with such a case hanging right above your heads. The pressure of a serial killer on the loose had you all on edge, the team and whole station too, but even more so the detective himself. Another murder had been reported but you had not gotten there in time to get the killer and the frustration was obvious on the gree-eyed man you had come closest to.

Said green eyes that were red-rimmed and tired, dark circles from lack of sleep very much obvious and making your heart ache. It wasn't easy getting attached to someone in this line of work – and what you felt for Dean was much more than just an attachment – not to mention get involved with someone who was also part of the job himself. But at the end of the day you couldn't help the pull on your heartstrings. His suit jacket was resting on his seat, his white sleeves rolled up, his tie lose around his neck along with a button or two undone. A scruff had started to form, obviously no time for things such as shaving anymore. All signs that he was beating himself up for yet another victim were right there.

The man looked in your direction and you held his gaze if only for a few seconds so as not to make it too obvious to both him and the rest of your friends and colleagues.

You cleared your throat and put on a small smirk, glancing at Gabriel and saying what would hopefully be the last line about the issue “It would have been a unique supernatural experience indeed. Me falling asleep the first three minutes. Quiet the magic you'd have pulled there, seeing as I have never once in my life been able to fall asleep so fast naturally.”

You grinned even more when you heard a small laugh come from Jack's direction. Despite his young age, he had remarkable abilities on the field and quickly had proved to be a valuable asset to the team. Besides, he was more family in the first place before he decided to follow in his adoptive father's – Castel's – steps and become a colleague too, all also thanks to his bright mind.

“Oh someone's in the mood today.” he smirked, unable to stop himself from commenting. And even though, by the looks of it, he had more to say he refered from it because of the sharp look Dean gave him.

“I'll be in the mood only when I go on vacation. Which I need real bad but because of this asshole seems to be even further away from now.” you sighed, crossing your arms over your chest as you leaned back in your seat “And I definitely don't get paid enough for this.”

“If you're looking for a change of career then I always have the perfect suggestion for you, darling. All you have to do is ask.” the smirk was as clear as the accent in the man's voice and you raised an eyebrow at him. He was no part of he team per see, because he wasn't a cop, but being a man who did business in the dark meant he had ears and eyes around when the crime really took place the most and therefore was of great help to you.

“Work... Work for you? But then what could she be do-” Jack started with an adorable frown. Despite how smart and skilled he was on the job, he seriously lacked social skills much like his father.

“Stripping.” you shrugged, face blank “I never get to play that role when it comes to cases, by the way.” any of the words you said were not meant seriously but that one sentence was. Only because someone, green eyes, full lips, tall and firm built, and your superior was always being over-protective and even possessive even though he had no right to. So if you could piss him off for it, then so be it. “So yeah, work as a stripper. Most probably. At least I hope? Because I swear, if you're thinking of making me a hooker, Crowley I'll personally kick your-”

“Alright, kids. If you're done fooling around then would you mind if we kept going with the briefing or are we interruptingyou?” sarcasm was nearly dripping from his lips and you raised an eyebrow at him “But we have a serial killer on the loose and a clock ticking that says we should catch his the soonest possible.”

“Whom-” you started to point out “We would have caught had someone decided to listen to my plan the previous time. But you're still glad you didn't let me go through with that, aren't you?”

“Which involved you nearly getting killed and don't tell me I don't know that!” he pointed out, raising a finger to stop you from talking, his voice deep and authoritative when the next words came from his lips “Don't you dare. Because it would mean you getting face to face with a man who could easily shoot you without a second thought if he realized you're a cop. You couldn't have handled it, nobody could, and you bet your ass I'm glad I didn't give you my permission to go through with that.”

And as that, with only a few words, you forgot all about how much you wanted to comfort the man and take some of the weight off his shoulder. With only a few words you almost forgot just how much you cared for- well, scratch that. You almost forgot just how much you loved the man and the only thing that you could feel, for the man and in general, was endless frustration. He could drive you insanely mad with anger just by using a couple words. And despite knowing how much care was behind hose words, despite how much good he wanted to do, he managed to do the opposite almost every time. Like this one.

“Well good for you, chief!” you nearly exclaimed “Now go ahead and add another body to the long list and let us all wait and see how many dead people it will take for you to listen to my plan. Which, by the way let's be honest, is the closest we'd be able to get to him and we both know it, Dean.”

He held your gaze, his anger bubbling up as well as he clenched his jaw. It was almost like a staring match, ready to see that whoever broke the look first then they lost the argument. He scoffed, in the end, tearing his eyes away from yours before he started rubbing them “You know what? I'm not doing this with you. I'm too tired to try and convince you it wouldn't work. Not without consequences.”

“And I am too tired trying to convince you that just because I am a woman, doesn't mean I can't handle things like everybody else! Doesn't mean I can't be a good cop and doesn't mean I-” you hadn't realised when your voice started raising but in such a match, it could never get more scary or powerful that Dean's roaring one. Much like now when he cut you off.

“Well, much fucking better than being dead! And I can't have that- I won't have that and you know it. Not with anybody in this team and especially not with you!” he nearly made you jump in your place because, and even if it was scary, you appreciated that when it came to yelling at you or in general kicking your ass as any boss should, he took no consideration of gender (unlike previous chiefs you've had) and made no discriminations “So-” he continued in a lower but just as dangerous voice “You can go and hate me all you want but I'll take it, just like I'll take another death take it all on me, because – and you can call me a selfish bastard for this if you want to, fine by me – I'd much rather it be someone I don't know and not you.”

The silence that followed after that was so thick you could almost cut right through it. You felt your eyes burn and upon realizing it was unshed tears, you forced yourself to look away from him. You could only hear his heavy breathing and you could almost see him, resting his weight on his chair as he gripped the back with both his hands in firm fists. Nobody said a word for a good few seconds and although you could feel their eyes, it wasn't what made you uncomfortable – if uncomfortable was what you felt that is. You couldn't place your finger on what it was yet. They were somewhat used to this, for sure it wasn't the first time, but it was the first time with such a dangerous killer out there and so many victims. Dean did take it all on his shoulder but it was affecting all of you and it clearly was wearing off on your nerves.

“Alright uhm-” Sam was the one to break the silence this time, clearing his throat softly “What Dean is trying to say is... this is hard, for all of us. Having another victim on the list is-” he let out a shaky sigh “It's on all of us, but mostly him and I. And for that, and for the poor young soul that was lost, we have a plan to put an end to him once and for all.”

Leave it to the second in command to put everything back in order and get the detective, and brother of his, and everybody else back on the game. It certainly had your attention.

“And... what will the plan involve?” Castiel who had kept silent until now, spoke up with a frown.

“We've uh-” he glanced at Dean as if asking for a permission to inform everyone, not that he really needed it, but he asked and got it with a nod “We've noticed that the past month has been a pattern. Besides his MO which was obvious from the first kills, we only now saw there is something similar to a pattern. A pattern that lasts a whole month, despite the kills, and we only now got to notice: it's the place he prays. Four months ago, for an entire month, this is where the kills took place. Three months ago it was here.Two months ago, here. And this month-” he kept pointing spot after spot on the map as he kept speaking, until he finally showed the forest just on the outskirts of the town “Last three deaths, all on this very forest.”

“That's- that's where he is, where he stays and where he prays.” the words left in a gasp from your lips “So we- we're going to just... go and find him? And that's- that's it?” the excitement was hard to hide.

“No, no we're not.” it was Dean's low voice. You still wouldn't look at Dean, arms crossed over your chest and eyebrows pulled into a deep frown. “We'll follow a different plan. Another way.”

Sam sighed a bit “There have been cabins or old warehouses in all of the places he's killed, too secluded for anyone to notice. And we have our eyes on one in this forest as well but we can't blow our cover in case we don't catch him there. No, we'll let him think we're still in the dark and... let him come to us.” that earned more than a few raised eyebrows from all of you “We'll lure him out, let him do what he does best. Or at least get close to it. There is a plan, a bit of an alteration to (Y/n)'s.” you were surprised how Dean didn't comment something on that but he was suddenly far more serious than before “There will be a car there tonight, there will be a couple and he will want to strike. Our people will be there, the team only at first with the rest on alert, all around but definitely hiding while... you, (Y/n), will be in the car.” ah of course.

Your back straightened and your eyes immediately fell on Dean who look more stiff than ever, and now you also knew why “And you're ok with this?” he knew you were speaking to him so he looked up to meet your gaze. He didn't have to say anything because it was clear as a crystal that no, he wasn't and didn't want to put you in danger even if were alright with it. You sighed, nodding your head “So, if I am to be in the car I'll have to be with another man, right? He goes for couples and I'm more than fine with playing my part – especially since the business doesn't let me get any – but what? Will we just get an actor or something?”

“If only it was that easy. We're not putting civilians in the line, obviously. It'll be another cop. More specifically... another member of the team.” Sam explained and you frowned a bit more.

“O-oh ok.” you shifted a bit in your seat, not too glad to get that kind of close to the men you considered brothers, all but one but he was out of the question “That's... also an option.”

“Oh well, if you're looking for a volunteer then I'd gladly-”

“Don't you even think about it.” although in a low voice, Dean's words were very much scary.

“It's-” Sam sighed, glancing at his brother “The most dangerous position as you can tell. You didn't want you to be there either but this is our last chance and uh in case something goes wrong and the backup is not there in time then the ones inside the car will have to fight him off on their own. So uhm in order not to risk anybody else's life more than nec-”

“I'll do it.” Dean's gruff voice echoes in the room, having cut Sam off and made everyone stay silent, and it makes you feel shivers run down your spine and your breath get caught in your throat “I'll be with you in the car, (Y/n). Play the part.” his eyes met yours and you could swear you forgot your own name too.

“And somehow I am not shocked to hear that.” it was Crowley's turn this time but you couldn't bring yourself to look at him. You couldn't in fact bring yourself to look anywhere but Dean.

Dean sighed but didn't comment on it. Instead he straightened his back and said “Sam will inform you all about the rest of the details and your positions. He will lead the team on the field. I have to meet with Shurley about some final details and...” he paused at the door, turning just a bit to glance at you “I want to see you in my office to discuss a couple thingsin case this takes a bloody turn, ok?”

“Sure” was the only thing you could whisper, knowing too well that that was the most important part for him. Your safety.

~*~

It was getting hard to breathe. Was it always so hard to breathe when inside a car? You contemplated opening a window but you knew that it wouldn't be the best idea. Plus, you realized that it was only because of how close Dean was sitting and because that distance would soon be gone. Glancing at your watch you realized the moment was fast approaching and you could feel your heart leap to your throat.

“Alright lovebirds, I'm throwing this in before you get too distracted and before I hear something that will scar me for life.” both you and Dean visibly rolled your eyes “The sun is getting down and soon you'll have to play your parts. We are all in position and backup on their places too. Good luck and have fun!”

“The real fun will only be when I put some tape over that mouth, I tell you.” you grumbled and saw the corner's of Dean's lips lift into a small smirk. You could swear you also heard him say something to the other man through the walkie-talkie. And then back to silence... or not.

“You haven't been getting enough sleep.” you caught yourself whispering when you saw the man rub his eyes tiredly.

It took him a couple seconds to react but he spoke in the end “No I haven't.” he knew there was no point in denying it or trying to deflect it, especially not with you “But I will once we get the son of a bitch.”

“That's not the right way to deal with it, you could just break down any given moment.” you couldn't stop yourself from sounding as if you were scolding him, but a fight was not what you were going for “But I suppose it's ok.” you admittedwith a soft sigh, almost tired one.

“To break down?” he asked after a good few seconds and hearing the smirk in his voice made you grin.

“Being on edge, I mean. Like, not that it is healthy, but it's impossible to relax either. None of us has been able to these days so I understand you.” you tried to relax further in your seat “And if only this damn car could make it easier. Where's Baby when you need her.”

“Don't worry.” his voice had taken such a soft tone it made you melt on the inside. When you felt the contact though it made your heart still in your chest. It took you a couple seconds to realize you were actually more relaxed than before, although of a higher temperature than before. “Once this is over I promise to take you on a long ride, with as many burgers as you want, wherever you want.”

“I like the sound of it.” you whispered, glancing at his hand holding yours and his thumb rubbing softly over your knuckles. But despite how beautiful it was and how good it felt, there was a feeling at the pit of your stomach that was deep-settled fear. “If we end up making it out of here, that is.”

“We will. You will, I'll make sure of it.” his voice sounded firm and looked away from you, staring straight ahead of him “Whatever it takes.”

“I mean-” you shrugged softly “Even if I go tonight... it won't be such a bad way to go, you know?” that made him look at you but you kept your gaze straight ahead “Watching the sunset from a great place is something I haven't done in so so long. Being with someone... close to me, the family that you are to me, despite how mad you drive me sometimes.” it earned a low chuckle from him and you turned your head to look at him “It's true. But hey, at least, I'll be able to brag to every girl I know in the after life that I kissed Dean Winchester. That's pretty dope, isn't it?”

He smiled gently at you, his forehead was leaning against yours before you even realized it. But when his lips pressed on the corner of yours, it certainly was a feeling you'd never forget “Please. Heavily make out, for sure.” he grinned and you giggled before you could stop it “And I'll be the one bragging.”

“Do you think...” you started softly, moving so that you could rest your head on his shoulder “There is a chance we... we win this?”

“Tell you what.” he took a deep breath “I am not sure but if we do then... everything will change after that and I hope... I pray it's in a good way.”

“I hope that too.” you whispered, looking out to see the sun had set for good and darkness was all around you “Here we go.”

[mhdiaries]

Wave 3 Toralei Stripe Diary

July. Two. Five.

Ooh they’re telling math jokes now...

Q: What do you get if you divide the circumference of a jack-o-lantern by its diameter?

A: Pumpkin Pi!

The math geeks I’m stuck on this bus with think that this is funny. So funny in fact, that the harpy sitting in front of me shoots milk out of her nose when she hears the punch line. I don’t think it’s funny at all. I’d rather be listening to the music I have stored on my iCoffin but two hours into our five-hour ride home my iCoffin gave up the ghost. It should have lasted the whole trip and then some except that one of my math camp roomies “accidentally” unplugged my iCoffin charger last night when she plugged in her fright light. I don’t even know why a ghost needs a fright light. What? Was she afraid she would trip over something and go “bump in the night?” I realized what happened when we woke up this morning but we had to leave first thing so I didn’t have time to put a full charge on it. At least I got enough battery life to block out the two hours dedicated to the singing of “X Number Bottles of Ghoul Juice on the Wall.” To add to the misery the seats on this bus only have room for two monsters and Meowlody and Purrsephone are of course sitting together which left me stuck in a seat next to a troll named Teala who had never been away from her bridge for more than a day until she came to math camp.She cried herself to sleep every night. Not that any other monster but me noticed but then again I notice everything. I also noticed Teala wasn’t laughing at any of the math jokes either. In fact she seemed to be more miserable than I was. Well now, here I was thinking she was missing her bridge but if that were the case why didn’t she seem excited about going home? “Dish,” I said. She turned and looked at me for a moment and then stared back ahead. “Okay - suit yourself then,” I said and then tried to curl up in the seat to take a cat nap which I had almost accomplished when she said; “My boy-fiend broke up with me...by text...the first night of math camp.” She still wasn’t looking at me but she wasn’t crying either. “He was my first real boyfriend and...and I don’t know why I’m telling you ‘cause you don’t seem to care about any monster besides yourself and you’ll probably figure out a way to use this to make me even more miserable.” I didn’t show it, but that really hurt. Just because I enjoy the chaos that a good practical joke brings doesn’t mean that I’m intentionally cruel does it? I don’t think it does and besides; where’s the fun of kicking some monster when they’re already down? It’s a lot more fun to see the surprise on a monster’s face when they think they’ve got it all together and you can “help them” see that they don’t. So I said, “Guess you better tell me the whole story then so I can do a thorough job.” That actually brought a ghost of a smile to her face. Teala told me that her ex boy-fiend was applying to colleges and that he decided he needed to keep his “options open” in case he might meet his “intellectual equal” at school. At first I didn’t believe he actually wrote that and then she showed me the text. “Does he really think he’s that smart,” I asked. She kind of shrugged and said, “He’s scary smart but not as good at math as I am, especially withy differential equations.” She told me he really wanted to get into this one school because his favorite mad scientist taught there. I’d never heard of the school but I knew who the mad scientist was because Mr. Hack made use watch a bunch of his videos in class. The videos were deadly boring but the mad scientist had this odd accent and strange speech pattern. I used to mimic his voice in class to make Mr. Hack jump. I’d wait until Mr. Hack’s back was turned and then scream, “Huhhacckkk - theeese stuuudannts reeelease youuu wuh-ill ah-yuat wa-unce!” It cost me several days in detention and a trip to Headless Headmistress Bloodgood’s office the last time I mimicked the mad scientist but even Mr. Hack admitted he couldn’t tell the difference between the scientist’s voice and my imitation of it. We talked about a few more things and then Teala finally fell asleep. I was able to finally fall asleep as well but not before having to hear another math joke followed by an explosion of milk from the seat in front of me.

July. Two. Eight.

I went to MH today to pick up some pictures I left in the FearBook office. When I was done I went up to the belfry. It’s a good place to keep an eye on things without other eyes watching you. It’s also a good place to take a nap. Usually the hunchback who rings the bells...the bells...works up there but he was on summer vacation in France or somewhere so I had the place to myself; until Spectra came floating through that is. She thinks that she’s very stealthy but it’s almost impossible to sneak up on me and I heard the rattle of her chains long before she actually appeared. I pretended to be asleep for a moment then with my eyes still closed I said, “What do you want Spectra?” “Oh, hello Toralei. Did you hear the news?” Most monsters don’t trust anything they hear from Spectra. I know better. There’s always an element of truth in her “news”. You just need to know how to listen. Here’s an example; Spectra told me she heard that Nefera is moving back to town and will be taking over for Ms. Kindergruber in Home Ick. Not only that but Ms. Kindergruber is also going to quit teaching to become a roadie for her favorite rock and roll band. Now as much fun as it is to imagine Ms. K. climbing stacks of amps while wearing a sleeveless leather vest, bandana and steel toed boots it’s not going to happen. Although when compared to the thought of Nefera actually “lowering herself” to teach, it’s practically a done deal Ms K will be hitting the road. I’m pretty sure out of that confusing jumble of information the one true fact is that Nefera is moving back to town and probably sooner rather than later...now there’s a monster who enjoys kicking some body when it’s down.

July. Three. Zero.

Got an email today from Teala, the troll girl I sat with on the ride home from math camp. Apparently her ex boy-fiend told her that he got a call from the mad scientist he wanted to study under. The scientist told her ex that his test scores indicated a “skuhh-ill weeeakness in diffuhh-wrenntial eeeequay-shunns” and that her ex should find some monster that was intellectually superior and “geeet sah-ummm tuutorr-ing”. Her ex was certain it was the professor since “no monster could fake that voice.” He also apologized to Teala for being an arrogant jerk and asked if she would tutor him in differential equations. Teala told him that she would have to check her schedule. Sometimes it is just purrrecious the way things work out for the beast.

August. One. Three.

I bought a ball of dragon thread today for Sweet Fangs. It’s just about the only material that’s strong enough to survive more than one play session with her. I don’t know what I’m going to do when Sweet Fangs gets bigger because I’m probably going to need the whole dragon and I’m not sure mom and dad are gong to be good with that.

August. Two. Five.

M&P came over today. They’re like my sisters and I can’t imagine how boring unlife would be without them. We do just about everything together and some monsters even think we’re related but we’re not. Not that it matters since we don’t really care what other monsters think anyway. We are who we are and any monster or monsters that want to try and herd us better get ready for a long miserable day. Today we weren’t worried about being herded, today was a brainstorm session. Our mission, repay Cleo de Nile and her minions for not only ruining our perfectly planned graduation prank but also for taking away part of our valuable summer vacation by “arranging” our trip to math camp. Knowing that it was Cleo who got the better of us is almost as irritating as being wet or having my fur stroked the wrong way. I can’t believe that I actually helped her when she first wanted to be a part of the Fear Squad. Cleo didn’t even know how to do a cartwheel, much less a round off. So I took her under my claw and taught her everything I knew and since I’d been doing gymnastics from the time I was a kitten I knew a lot. I finally got Cleo to the point where she started to “get it” and instead of being a liability she started contributing. I figured that for all my hard work and leadership Nefera would make me the Fear Squad captain when she graduated. Only she didn’t - she passed it onto Cleo. I can still remember what Nefera said to me when I confronted her about it. “I didn’t want Cleo to succeed - I wanted her to be humiliated but since you helped her, you get to deal with the consequences.” Then Cleo acted as if she deserved to be the captain and that she automatically knew everything there was to know about leading the Fear Squad. She should have showed some humility and stepped aside. She didn’t so now it’s up to me to teach her some new lessons and I can’t wait for class to be back in session.  

August. Three. One.

There’s a meteor shower tonight, which will give us the purrrfect opportunity to practice the three D’s. Divert. Design. Demure. First I divert attention away from myself - although tonight the meteor shower should do that for me, next I design a “surprise” for my intended victim student and then after the unexpected happens I demure - “Oh my, what happened here?” More later...

Ended up scraping the three D’s tonight, mostly because the meteor shower diverted me. I was supposed to meet M&P at this coffee shop down close to the beach - it’s the only time I go to the beach since sand + water + fur = unhappy werecat - but they were late so I grabbed a catnipuccino and waited. The owner turned down the lights of the shop so it was almost dark and then the sky was falling. The ghouls showed up just as somewhere down the beach a monster started playing guitar and I said, “Just because we’ve got nine lives doesn’t mean we need to rush through this one.” And we didn’t. 

[aethelflaedladyofmercia]

The Whole Truth - 5

(As promised - some answers this time, as well as angst, and fluff, and a bit of sap. It’s a long one, so get comfy, here or on AO3. Enjoy!)

Thursday

Aziraphale paced the shop, wringing his hands.

What on Earth had he been thinking yesterday? With any of it?

Crowley would think he’d gone mad. Probably already did.

Had he actually touched Crowley’s arm during dinner? Repeatedly? Let their knees brush together under the table? Ordered a shared dessert? His stomach hurt to think of it.

Not that the cake hadn’t been lovely, but he’d insisted on feeding Crowley a bite and, oh –

He pressed his hands to his mouth, wanting to remember every moment, wanting to forget entirely.

What if Gabriel had come to check-in? He’d said Friday, but it was always a possibility, always. He would have caught them, sharing a table, laughing over cups of coffee about humans they’d known through the ages, leaning close, so very close. Or walking back to the Bentley, hands brushing against each other, smiling like…

He picked up the telephone for the third time this morning, desperately dialing Crowley’s flat. He needed to tell the demon not to come. Needed any excuse to keep him away, or he…he didn’t know what he’d do.

But again, the line rang, and rang, and the foolish machine picked up, asking him to leave a message. He waited for the tone, then snapped, “Crowley. It’s me again. Do not come. Don’t – you need to stay as far from me as possible. I can’t—”

The roar of an engine, the muffled sound of Queen, and he looked up just in time to see the long black car stopping in front of his door.

A moment later, Crowley stepped out, another bag from the bakery. And…were those flowers?

It was worse than he expected. Aziraphale backed away in horror.

“Angel?” Crowley called through the door. Was it too late? Could he hide in the back room? “My hands are full, could you…?”

This shouldn’t be hard. Open the door. Tell him you don’t want to see him today. Don’t accept the lovely flowers. Don’t thank him for the pastries. And whatever you do, don’t pull him through the door, slam him against the wall and –

Oh dear.

He opened the door a crack. “Crowley. I. Oh, did you…change your hair?”

Crowley tossed his head, and now all his hair was loose and free, gleaming in the sun, and of course one strand got caught across his face and Aziraphale wanted to tug it free, to set it in place, to run his fingers all through that dazzling mass of red until—

“Just a bit. Thought I could use a change. Do you like it?”

“I do, I really do.” He slapped his hand over his mouth.

Crowley smiled, and it wasn’t sarcastic, it was genuine and heartbreaking. “Good. I – I thought you might. I, um, I got you these.”

Aziraphale’s eyes fell on the white-and-yellow bouquet. “Daisies? Oh, I adore daisies. So bright and warm…”

“Yeah, I know. And they, um, remind me of you.” Crowley shuffled his feet, still on the doorstep. “I thought, if we’re going to be poring over that book for two more days, might as well brighten the place up a bit.”

“I.” Send him away. “I thought.” Send him away right now. “I don’t believe I…invited you.”

If the smile had been heartbreaking, the way it fell nearly destroyed Aziraphale on the spot.

“You. Aziraphale. You never invite me, I just…come.”

“I know.” He tried to keep his face straight, his resolve firm. “And that’s…that’s very much the problem, isn’t it? You just show up whenever you wish, unannounced, regardless of how I feel, or what I’m doing or – or who might be visiting!”

“Is someone there now?” Was Crowley even aware of the way his whole body tensed when he worried, coiled, preparing to spring into action? He wasn’t a fighter – he always preferred to flee and hide – but somehow any time his mouth pressed into that line of resolve, Aziraphale just felt safe. “Do you need me to cause a distraction? Just say the word.”

It was the perfect out. Tell Crowley Gabriel was here, that he had it under control.

“No. I’m alone.”

“Then what’s the problem? I told you last night I’d swing by as early as I could. Yes, I should have called first, but it’s not that big a deal, is it?” He moved as if to step through the door, though Aziraphale still stood in the way.

“Yes, it is!” Aziraphale pushed the door almost completely shut, so he could see nothing but Crowley, and the flowers. “It is very much a ‘big deal.’ You never think about these things, Crowley, and I have to worry on my own. You never change. What would you have done if Gabriel were here? Hmm? Do you even remember the time you almost walked straight into him, or did you conveniently forget that as well?”

“Of course, I remember.” Crowley’s voice was a low growl. “But you just said he’s not, so it does not matter.” He took a step back at least. “What’s he going to do, anyway? Put a bad comment on your quarter-century review?”

“He might! He might do a lot worse than that! Do you think anything like this—” he gestured between them “—this has ever happened before?”

“I don’t know, Angel. What is this? Tell me that!” But under the anger there was a note of desperation, and Aziraphale had to gnash his teeth to keep from saying something that would make the situation worse.

“Crowley,” he finally managed, sounding half-strangled even to his own ears. “I don’t want you to come in.” There was a strained silence, broken only by the crinkle of the paper around the flowers.

“Angel. Just tell me—”

“No, Crowley. Don’t ask me any more questions.” He was terrified of what answers he might give. “Just leave. Go – go far away, and do not contact me until I ask you to.”

“Fine.” The bundle of daisies tumbled to the step. “Fine.” Crowley strode back to the Bentley faster than Aziraphale had ever seen him move. “And don’t think I’ll be standing next to the phone when you call. I have better things to do with my time than wait for you.”

“I doubt that!”

But he was gone.

Aziraphale let the door drift open, as the flowers scattered and blew away in the wind.

--

He glanced up from the book, blinking blearily at the light. It must be afternoon by now.

Aziraphale didn’t remember much after the fight with Crowley – he rarely did, not for the serious fights – and the cup of ice-cold tea and stack of notes four centimeters thick were the only real indicators that time had passed at all.

He folded his arms across the book, leaning against them, breathing in the spicy smell. Tried not to think about how much he missed Crowley’s jokes and snide comments, the way he would bend over Aziraphale’s shoulder to look at the page, breath warm on his cheek.

“Don’t think about that. He wasn’t helping.” He scolded himself. But, really, for all his notes, he’d contributed as much to this translation as Crowley. Aziraphale was getting nowhere, and he only had another day.

What would Crowley do, if he were here?

Terrible question. Better to ask what Gabriel would do, or one of the Scribes of Heaven. They would surely have some wonderful idea for a new angle to attack the text from that would force it to reveal its secrets, and not a moment too soon.

But Crowley would suggest going for a walk. Feeding the ducks. Getting something to eat.

It took ten minutes of searching to find a satchel, just the right size for the book. He slid the heavy tome inside and headed out.

--

“Seven, huh?” Eliza smiled, sliding the last tiropita into the customer’s bag. “Guess you like these.”

“Oh, yes, they’ve been my favorite mid-afternoon snack for the last two millennia.” The customer – she recognized him as the old man from the bookshop down the street, the one that was never open – seemed startled by his own joke. “Only they’ve been rather out of fashion in this part of the world until recently, so it’s nice to have them available again.”

“Right,” she smiled, punching the order into the till. “Well, I hope they’re as good as you remember.”

“Oh, the modern recipe doesn’t use nearly enough honey, but I find I enjoy them nonetheless.”

Weird bloke, she thought, fighting to keep her customer-service-smile in place. Probably harmless, though. “Going for a walk?”

“Yes, I’ve been rather caught up in a project, but I’ve made no progress on my translation for several days. I’m hoping a change of scenery will help.”

“Oh, translation, huh?” she showed him the total, and he handed her a few notes. “I’m taking German this year. Supposed to help with the grad program I want. What’s yours?”

“It’s a text of no known language that foils every attempt at decipherment,” he said as she counted out the change. “Furthermore, there is a curse upon it which could destroy half of London if tampered with.”

“Yeah.” She handed over the coins and bag, trying to make sense of that one. “My sister said the same thing about her Latin class, but she’s always been a bit mad.” Eliza glanced out at the sunny street, wishing her shift would end already. “Enjoy the weather.”

“I hardly think that possible, as I had a terrible fight with a very dear friend this morning, and I don’t believe he will talk to me again for quite some time. I would much rather it were raining, to suit my mood, but the nearest storm clouds are over France. Summoning them now will almost certainly have unforeseen consequences to the regional climate. Good day.”

He backed out of the shop and hurried up the street. Definitely weird. “Can I help who’s next?”

--

Up and down the streets of Soho he walked, unable to stop himself from talking.

Waiting for the light to change, he told a family how the Trojan War wasn’t entirely his fault, but things had gotten rather out of hand. “I never should have let him tell me the apple would make a good prank. My word, did everyone take it so seriously.”

Wandering past the duck pond, he explained to a confused group of students that, had he really known who Dante was, he never would have given the job to Crowley. “I just thought, poor chap needs a vacation, he’d had a terrible century, might as well spend a few weeks in Italy, all he has to do is go drinking with a poet and cheer him up a bit. And, frankly, if my orders were just a bit less Ineffable maybe I would have seen this coming!”

Sitting on a bench with an older couple, he tried to describe the outfits he and Crowley had worn in that church in 1941, though the couple seemed confused and kept interrupting to ask questions about the flowers or guests. “No, there weren’t any guests, just these awful people I thought I knew. But Crowley arrived and got me away from there, oh it was really something. Dancing all down the aisle.”

Leaning against the wall outside a bar, he pleaded with every passerby: “I wasn’t really thinking, I just – they didn’t have any way to protect themselves, it was going to be dark, and raining, and the lions. So, I handed over my sword. I didn’t mean to disobey. I didn’t mean to, I just – it was the right thing to do, wasn’t it? Wasn’t it?”

He didn’t pay attention to where he walked. But it was no surprise at all when he found himself in Mayfair, staring at a long black Bentley and a tall, modern block of flats.

--

His fist pounded on the door. “Crowley? Crowley, please.” Aziraphale knocked again. “Crowley, I just – I need to talk to you, please, I know you’re here.”

The door opened so suddenly, he nearly toppled in. Crowley scowled at him, blocking the entrance, hair slicked back once again. “Oh. Aziraphale. I don’t remember inviting you.”

“I know. I know, please, I – I need your help.”

“Oh, now you need my help? Is that how it’s going to be? I just sit around waiting until you need me—”

“Crowley, this is serious! Will you just listen?”

The demon leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms. “Go on then.”

“In…in the hallway?”

“Yes, in the hallway. Seems fitting.”

Aziraphale nodded, watching his own hands twist and wring against each other. “I deserve this, of course. After the frightful way I treated you, and not just this morning. So many times over the years—”

“Oh, spare me the passive-aggressive speech,” Crowley groaned. “Just tell me what’s wrong.”

“I am, Crowley. This is what’s wrong. The – the curse. It’s started to affect me, quite – quite frightfully.”

He glanced up, just in time to see Crowley swallow. “Are you dying?” His voice was painfully neutral.

“No, nothing like that.” Yes, it was easier to address this whole conversation to his shoes. “I just…can’t seem to stop talking.”

“Well. It’s a terrible curse, but I’m sure you’ll survive somehow. If you’ll excuse me, Golden Girls is coming on—”

“It isn’t just that, Crowley, I can’t – I can’t lie.” Icy silence. “I’m compelled not just to speak, but to say the truth, the absolute truth. I’m finding it nearly impossible to conceal anything at all.”

He waited for the door to slam in his face.

“Get in, you idiot.”

Head jerking up, Aziraphale found that Crowley had stepped aside and opened the door wide. Nodding his thanks – knowing if he tried to voice them out loud, he’d say something he truly regretted – Aziraphale entered the flat.

--

He looked around in every direction, trying to avoid Crowley’s gaze. The demon was still tense, still leaning against the wall with arms crossed. “I say, this is the exact opposite of cozy,” Aziraphale commented cheerfully. “You seem to be missing nearly all your furniture. The walls are very white, aren’t they?”

“It’s called minimalism,” Crowley grunted. “You should try it.”

“Oh, is this the modern style of decorating?” There was a black sofa facing a television, a broad plain desk, the top of it a thin plate of glass, and an oddly shaped chair. A few pieces of sculpture were scattered around, though they didn’t seem to fit the general look of the place.

“It was. Bored with it now. Maybe go retro next, I don’t know.”

“Ah.” Aziraphale bit his tongue. He pulled off the satchel holding his book, placed it on the floor next to the sofa, trying to find something polite to say. He failed. “Only, it seems a very strange color choice, as it makes your whole flat rather look like—”

“Don’t say it,” Crowley snarled, pushing off from the wall.

“I can’t help it! I told you, I can’t seem to stop talking. Half of Soho now knows things about me I’ve never said before, and I just…I can’t stop.”

“Really?” he stalked forward. “So, if I asked you a question right now, you wouldn’t be able to lie, or avoid the subject or any of those other things you do?”

“Crowley, your expression right now does not at all make me feel safe.” He stepped back and closed his eyes. “But I suppose…yes, that’s fair. You can ask.”

“Oh, thank you for the invitation. Tell me, did you lie when you said you like having me around?”

“No, I…I think it had already begun to affect me.”

“Interesting.” Crowley’s voice was coming closer, but Aziraphale kept his eyes firmly shut. “Then you lied when you told me you wanted me to leave this morning?”

“No, of course not. I was quite incapable by then.” He stumbled back another step. “I knew letting you in the shop would be disastrous – not that I was fully aware what was going on – so it seemed the best thing was—”

“The best thing was to get rid of the demon, not to tell me that something was wrong? Bless it, Aziraphale, even when you tell the truth, you’re so – so twisted!”

“I didn’t – I don’t—” He stepped back and collided with the table; nowhere else to go. Aziraphale’s eyes fluttered open, and Crowley stood so close, towering over him, teeth bared, and the angel trembled like a mouse before a serpent. “It’s not that I like deceiving you, Crowley. I don’t. But I’m not – I don’t feel safe without them. My lies. I feel…exposed…naked…” He closed his eyes again. The words cut deep wounds across his heart.

“So, that’s why you didn’t trust me this morning? You don’t feel safe around me? What, do you think I’m going to take advantage of this? That I’m going to hurt you?”

“Of course not! I’m not afraid of you I’m—” He struggled to hold on to the one secret he had left. “Crowley, if I can’t break this curse by tomorrow, I’ll – I won’t be able to stop myself from telling Gabriel—”

“Telling him what?”

“That I love you!” The words tore through Aziraphale’s last layer of defense, shredding him, leaving him open to the world. He sobbed, leaning against the desk behind him, practically sitting on it as his legs gave way. “I love you, Crowley,” he repeated, much quieter. “You’re my best…you’re my only friend. And I love you so very dearly. And I can’t…can’t ever let anyone know…not even you...”

He heard something click onto the table beside him, and looked up to see Crowley, glasses gone, eyes brighter and wetter than Aziraphale had ever seen them. “There. Now we’re both naked,” he said softly.

“I’m…I’m sure this comes as – as something of a shock…”

Crowley chuckled. “What, that? I’ve known for centuries. Millennia, Angel. I just…I didn’t think you knew.” His hand slid up and cupped Aziraphale’s cheek, and the angel leaned against it, drawing on Crowley’s warmth and strength.

“I…I hid it, even from myself, for so long. I never let myself acknowledge…but, no, I’ve known since…the church. The bomb. Couldn’t really deny it after that.”

“And you know I…I feel the same.” His serpent eyes almost blinked. “That I have…for so long.”

“I hoped so?” Aziraphale’s voice was tight, straining. In Crowley’s movies, these conversations didn’t hurt. They were always full of laughter and smiles. Instead, Aziraphale felt torn to shreds, he felt raw, and he saw the same pain reflected in Crowley’s eyes. “I worried, every time I lied, that this would be the last straw, the thing that sent you away for good.”

“I’m not going to leave—”

“Sometimes I wished it would be. That you would just – just go. Because it would be…so much easier…”

“They would punish you, if they knew,” Crowley said slowly. “Hurt you. Make you Fall.”

“I don’t care about that.” Aziraphale felt the first tear slide down his cheek. “It’s not – I don’t lie, and hide, and shut you out to protect myself. They would destroy you, Crowley. And I would rather die than…than see you hurt…”

Suddenly, Crowley’s arms were around him, pulling him into a surprisingly strong embrace, one hand cradling the back of his head. “Oh, you stupid, stupid Angel. Don’t worry about me.”

“One of us has to.” Aziraphale pressed his face into the curve of Crowley’s neck, felt his arms slide across Crowley’s back. Pushed himself fully onto the desk so he could wrap his legs around Crowley’s, pull him close, keep him safe. “I will protect you, my dear Crowley. I will. Anything to keep you safe.”

“Aziraphale. I don’t – I just want you to trust me. Talk to me. Let me help you." The angel shook his head, burrowing deeper into Crowley's embrace. "We can keep each other safe. You don’t have to do everything on your own.”

“I…I don’t…I don’t want to be alone,” Aziraphale managed.

“You never will be. Let me be there for you.”

“Crowl—” he tried, but all that he managed was a throttled squeak. He nodded, face still buried in Crowley’s shoulder, and let himself be entwined - engulfed - absorbed in that love.

“Aziraphale,” his demon whispered after a moment. “I want to kiss you.”

“I…want you to…” Crowley’s hands cradled his face again, pulling him back until their eyes met, and oh, that look on Crowley’s face now hurt even more than the sappy, hopeful smile this morning. “But you can’t,” Aziraphale ground out, despite his raw throat, his heart straining to burst free.

“Why not?” He leaned closer, until Aziraphale could feel his warm breath.

“Because…my dearest…if you kiss me, I’m never going to stop.” Crowley chuckled. “No, I mean it. I love you. So much. Every moment that I’m not kissing you is a lie. It’s why I’ve been so blasted affectionate the last few days. I need - I’m compelled - to express my love. To say it. To show you, and it hurts to stop.”

“I can stop us.”

“We can’t risk it. I can’t. Not when it’s your life at stake.”

“That’s my choice.” The lips were so close, he could practically taste them already. If he just leaned forward the tiniest bit…

“Please,” Aziraphale begged. “Don’t.”

The hands holding Aziraphale’s face tightened – and tipped his head down, pressing his forehead against Crowley’s. “Alright, Angel. Anything you want.”

Aziraphale tried to find his breath again. He didn’t think his heart would ever stop hammering.

“And we will find a solution to this, Aziraphale. I’m not going to lose you now.”

“I don’t think you’re going to have much choice in the matter. I will betray us both. By tomorrow I won’t be able to resist telling everyone I’m madly in love with a gorgeous, kind, wonderful demon, whose soul sings like the sweetest music, whose heart burns with the passion of the stars, and – oh, there I go again.”

Crowley growled, playfully. “I’m not any of those things.”

“Well, I hardly could have lied, could I? So, it must be true.” Aziraphale sighed. His heart and head ached, he just wanted to sit here leaning against Crowley forever, but there were things to take care of. He let go, allowed Crowley to step away. “I’ve had no luck with the book at all.”

Crowley pressed his lips into a line. “I…I told you I asked around Hell. Not one word about this raid.”

“Well, it’s entirely possible they’re keeping it from you.” Aziraphale stood, stretching. “No offence, darling, but you’re not exactly a high-ranked demon. According to Gabriel, your side was quite soundly defeated. Perhaps they’re covering it up.”

“Yeah, maybe, but,” Crowley backed away, pressing a hand against his hair, smoothing non-existent fly-aways back into place. “Even then, they’d never keep it a secret for long. Any time one of the lords of Hell weakens, the others swarm like…like…some sort of…blood-thirsty insects…”

“Sharks.”

“Sharks aren’t insects,” Crowley reminded him.

“No, but they do swarm. Quite ravenously. You remember that film we saw.”

“I don’t think Deep Blue Sea is a documentary.” Crowley frowned, but without his glasses, Aziraphale could see how his eyes danced. “Anyway. Maybe someone low-ranked was trying to organize a coup but…doesn’t feel right.”

“Perhaps it was some sort of ruse,” Aziraphale considered. “Pretending to lose in order to get the book captured. That would mean,” he realized with alarm, “the text itself is false, entirely untranslatable. Just a way to lure a researcher in, while the curse takes effect. But who could it be intended for?” He began to pace, struggling to focus through the whirl of emotions. “It might make sense for the target to be one of the Archangels, but they don’t do their own research. And how did the demons plan to capture the angel, once the curse was fully developed?”

Crowley cleared his throat. “I, uh, I have an idea, but I…need to be sure first. I need to see the book.”

Aziraphale picked up the bag, but hesitated. “Gabriel told me not to let anyone touch it. I gave him my word.” His fingers brushed down the leather spine. “What if…being touched by a demon sets it off?”

“It won’t,” Crowley soothed, but didn’t reach for the book. “I know how to handle cursed objects. Do it all the time for Hell. And if I’m right…” He glanced down at the bag. “I’ll be careful, I swear.”

The book felt heavy in Aziraphale’s hands – heavier than any book had a right to – heavy enough to drag them both to destruction.

“I trust you, Crowley.” He held it out, letting the bag fall to the floor. “But. Be careful.”

The moment Crowley touched it, his golden eyes went wide. He quickly placed it on the desk, wiping his hand on his shirt. “Well, that’s…” He glanced at Aziraphale. “I’ll know by morning. Why don’t you get some rest? When was the last time you slept?”

“1941. The ride back from the church, remember?”

Aziraphale never slept, usually. But sometimes, on particularly thrilling days, days fraught with too many emotions, his mind would buzz, overstimulated, until it felt numb. Then, he would lie down and drift away, and wake in the morning feeling himself again.

He’d felt that edge of over-exhaustion as they walked out of the church fifty-eight years ago, terrified by the newly recognized emotion that had bubbled under the surface for so long. Crowley had brushed a finger across his forehead and invited him to sleep, and he’d dozed off in the passenger seat of the Bentley, feeling warm and protected in ways he’d never known, not in all the long eternities of his existence. He woke the next morning on the shop sofa, bag of books resting on the floor beside him.

He felt it again now, that exhaustion, and knew it would only get worse the longer he fought it.

“Come on. This time you can use a bed.” Crowley put an arm over his shoulders and steered him, past a room full of vibrant green plants, and into another as empty as the first. A single bed pressed into a corner, white duvet and black pillows; a plant in a white pot on a black bedside table. That was all.

“Honestly, Crowley, this is where you sleep? It’s so infernally drab I can’t imagine how you manage.” He sat on the edge of the bed, pulling his shoes off.

“Eh, it’s fine. All bedrooms look the same with your eyes closed.”

When Aziraphale was comfortable under the thick duvet, Crowley sat on the edge of the bed, fingers brushing his forehead as they had in 1941. “Sleep, and dream of—”

“I’ll dream of you,” Aziraphale said. “Damned honesty curse. I always do, though.”

“Well, then.” Crowley leaned forward and pressed his lips to Aziraphale’s hairline, just for a fraction of a second. “Too much?”

“No, dear. Never.”

--

Crowley stood beside the bed in the dark.

He’d found his answer just before midnight. He knew who Aziraphale’s enemy was. A solution had already started to form in his mind, but it was a terrible thought.

Would Aziraphale believe him? Would he agree to what needed to be done?

Could Crowley go through with it?

No choice, he reminded himself. Aziraphale needs you. It was all he ever needed to steel his resolve.

“Angel.” He reached out and gently shook Aziraphale’s shoulder. “Time to wake up.”

“Crowley. C’m to bed.”

His heart rattled in his chest like a busted engine. “No, Aziraphale, we need—”

“Need you.” One eye opened just enough to reveal a gleam of blue. “Just…few hours. Let me have that. Please.”

Crowley wasn’t in the business of denying Aziraphale anything.

He lay down on top of the duvet, curled on his side to watch Aziraphale sleep. “Like this?”

The angel struggled a moment, until his arm came free, groping weakly in Crowley’s direction. “Can’t find you.”

“I’m coming.” Crowley wiggled closer, turning around until his back was pressed as close to Aziraphale as he could get it. The angel’s arm looped around, crossing his chest, pulling him closer, until his breath brushed warm on the back of Crowley’s neck. Until their hearts beat together. “How’s that?”

“Love you,” Aziraphale whispered. “Safe…” but soon he was asleep again.

Not long after, Crowley drifted off, into the best night’s sleep he’d ever had.

--

Aziraphale woke the next morning with Crowley in his arms.

He held Crowley and cried, quietly, his heart overflowing with love.

--

(Alright! One more long chapter to come, and it’s going to be another emotional rollercoaster. Look for it on AO3 or comment “tag” so I’ll tag you here!) @black-velvet-roses-tea @witchingwhovian

[bangtanlalaland]

venezia | knj (m.)

synopsis ↳your trip to Venice, Italy takes an unexpected turn when you unintentionally get lost. what happens next is all in fates’ hands.

--

— idol!au

→pairing: idol!kim namjoon x tourist!female reader

→genre: smut, pwp

→word count: 3k

→contents ⨯ warnings: dom namjoon x sub reader, swearing, dirty talk, heavy petting, tongue kissing, spitting, oral sex (f receiving), pussy slapping, delayed orgasm

a/n: I was debating if I should make this into a series. let me know what you guys think in the comments! I’m not sure if I have any grammar errors since I was slightly rushing to post this since it’s Namjoon’s birthday! So, if I do then please forgive me. I would also like to add that this was inspired by the photos Joon posted of himself while in Italy. 😏 anyways I’d really appreciate any feedback, especially since this is the first smut I’ve ever written.

--

Your 1 week trip to Venice, Italy with your two best friends was supposed to be a vacation well spent. But no. Here you are. On the streets of Venice. Lost. You couldn’t believe you failed to complete one simple task. Charge your phone! Now, you’re walking around with a map you either: 1. don’t understand or 2. just don’t want to understand. Either way, it’s way too hot to continue walking around with a useless piece of paper being held by your now sweat-drenched palms.

Of course with today's technology you had grown accustomed to using Google Maps for your everyday ventures, but this time your luck had run out. Life was obviously testing your survival skills. And you flunked the test. Sigh. You give up. You fold the map and stuff it in the back pocket of your jean shorts. You continue along your journey, passing by numerous cafes, shops, and restaurants.

One in particular caught your eye. It was different from the others. It not only was an indoor restaurant, but there were patio seating as well. It was very open. You could tell it was even bigger inside. You notice a host standing outside the restaurant. With the burning heat of the sun toasting your skin, you desperately give in and approach the man. You greeted him with a simple: Hello. Do you speak English? He shyly grinned and walked away. You had hoped he only walked away to get help. If not, you were shit out of luck.

As you patiently wait for the host to return, you had to think of what exactly you were going to say or do. You quickly scan your surroundings. There were a lot of people dined at the patio seating. Bingo. You are going to ask for a charger. It’s stupid, you thought. But it’s worth giving it a shot because you dread having to pull that piece of shit paper out again to try and reason with it. You step back and clear your throat. You pull yourself together to voice: Does anyone here have an iPhone charger? You? No? Do you have an iPhone charger? Anyone?

To your surprise you hear an “I do!” from behind. You turn around so fast that you’re surprised you didn’t fall right on your ass. You see a slender, brown-haired guy with sunglasses waving his hand. You notice another guy (with black hair & all black clothes) sitting at the table, turning around to see who his friend is talking to. Oh, thank God. You think to yourself. For some reason you become extremely nervous as you approach him. You hadn’t realized from a distance how hot he really is. He smiled, and fuck did that set it off for you. But you manage to play it off.

“You’re a lifesaver, seriously. I’m lost and my phone is dead. I have no idea where I am, and I have to charge my phone to call my friends.”

“No worries. I am sorry that you’re lost, but hopefully this will help.”

The mysterious male grabs an iPhone charger from his sling bag and inches it towards you. "Thank you so much...” You added, extending your hand, hoping he would respond with a name. He removes his sunglasses and at that moment, you were ready to risk it all.

“Namjoon. And you are?” he grabs your hand to firmly shake. “Oh, I am Y/N!”

“That’s a pretty name. It’s nice to meet you, Y/N.”

“Same here.” Your entire body is on fire at this moment as you both are literally having eye sex right now, and you can’t believe that this hunk is actually holding your hand. You try playing it off by giving a shy smile. In the opposite hand, you nervously squeeze the phone charger and bite your bottom lip. You could literally stare into those coffee-colored, almond shaped eyes all day. You felt another pair of eyes on you, and you completely forgot there was another person at the table. To break the silence, you look to your left and let go of “Namjoons” hand.

“Oh, I’m so rude! And you are?”

“Hi, I’m Jungkook. Nice to meet you!”

“Ahh, lovely.” You gently shake his hand and smile. To your luck, you notice the host pointing in your direction and another male begins to approach. You had assumed that he was the supposed “help.”

“Hello. How can I assist you today?”

“Hi. I wanted to speak with someone about being lost. My phone is dead, and I have not been able to contact my friends to let them know where I am. But luckily, a fellow gentleman here has lent me his charger so that I could get in touch with my friends. Is there anyway I could possibly charge my phone inside? If I have to pay that’s fine. I just really need to get back to my friends.”

You hoped that God would save you in this moment so you could move on from now. Just as the man was about to speak, you hear a familiar voice say:

“Valencio?!”

You noticed the man shocked as he looks past you. “Namjoon? Kim Namjoon?!” He instantly brushes past you and welcomes both Namjoon and Jungkook. You had no idea what was going on, but you figured they knew each other.

“So tell me! How are the guys? Where are they?”

Guys? You thought.

“They’re good. We are just on a break for now. Jimin is in France. And the rest are back home in Seoul.”

“Que bueno! That’s great to hear. You guys need a vacation! You work so hard.”

“Yes, yes thank you, Valencio.”

“Anything you want is on me, okay?”

You continue to stand there, confused. All you wanted at this moment was to charge your phone so you could get the hell out of this burning sun. You clear your throat in a firm manner to get their attention. Their faces snap towards you. Namjoon smiles, saying “One last thing. She’s with me. Do you mind?”

“Oh, of course not. Follow me this way. I will take you to my office.”

Namjoon glances at you to reassure you’re good to go. You wave him down to come along with you. He stands up, and begins walking towards you. You are completely taken aback at how delicious his full figure really is. Long legs, broad shoulders, handsome face. You're occupied with taking his appearance in that you don’t realize he’s calling your name. You snap back into reality, and look up at him. He’s way too close to you now.

“Oh. Y-yeah.. you should join me. Didn’t want you to think I would run off with your charger.” You weren’t sure why you asked him to come with you. Instantly regretting this, part of you hoped he would turn down. Because at this moment, you were literally boiling on the inside because of how close he is standing in front of you.

“It’s all good. You can keep it. But... I would still like to take up on that offer of joining you. That is, if you don’t mind?”

God, that sexy dimple when he smirks. You felt your stomach churn with nervousness. “Of course not!” You turn around on your heels, muttering silently to yourself: Fuck. Time felt laggy as Valencio lead the both of you into the restaurant. You felt for certain that Namjoon was probably looking at your ass in the tight jean shorts you’re wearing. Just the thought of that had your nerves jumping, and any unexpected circumstance could possibly lead you to shit a brick.

You pass through the kitchen, grasping the attention of the cooks and servers. Then you stop. Valencio grabs his key to unlock the door of his office. The door flies open, and he welcomes you both in. You gulp. As you walk inside the office, he gestures that the outlet for your charger is on the wall behind the desk where his office chair is. Just before Valencio could say anything else, you quickly blurt out: “Could I please have some water?”

He simply smiles and runs off to your request. You notice Namjoon standing in front of a painting displayed on the left wall of the room. You manage to use this time of him not eyeing you down, to plug the charger into the wall and finally charge your damn phone. Valencio comes back with a glass of water. You grab it and as you’re gulping down, you point your index finger up - signaling for him to wait.

You sucked it out of the glass like a vacuum and handed the glass back to him. He walks away and the sound of the door shutting makes your heart drop. You’re now alone in a room with a smoking hot guy you’ve just met. This whole time, you hadn’t realized that Namjoon was staring at you with hungry eyes, licking his lips.

You pretend you don’t notice and respond with another shy smile. But all hell breaks loose when he walks over to the window that’s facing the kitchen, and closes the blinds shut; then he swiftly locks the door. Your reflex reacted to this and you instantly bounce out of your seat. What are you doing...

“Come on.. You think I didn’t notice how you were checking me out earlier?”

“Didn’t think it was that obvious.”

“I’m only curious to know how that pretty face of yours would look while I’m eating the soul out of your little pussy.” He steps closer towards you, rubbing his member through his dark jeans, looks down at you and moves toward your ear. You can feel his warm breath hitting your earlobe, and it makes your entire body shiver. “Makes me so fucking hard just thinking about it.”

You’re on fire at this moment, but you decide to test his ego. Not knowing what consequences lie ahead of you. “I bet you couldn’t even make me cum.” Namjoon slides his slender fingers towards your core, tracing the cameltoe-like shape through your shorts. “Hm, you’re cute. But let’s see what you’ll be saying 5 minutes from now.”

And that was it. Namjoon grabbed your waist to pull you in closer, your bodies literally pressed together. He lifts your chin up to gaze in your eyes for a moment, and presses his lips against yours. You couldn’t help but think how amazing his plump, soft lips felt. You didn’t want this moment to end. Just by his kisses, he was already making your pussy ache for more. You follow his gestures, tilting your head right, switching positions and entangling your fingers through his luscious straight hair. He glides his hands down to your ass and firmly squeezes, making you softly moan.

You feel his tongue glide across your bottom lip, asking for entrance. You let him in and intertwine your tongue with his. Next, you suck his tongue, managing to get a moan out of him. Then you pull away and let him suck yours. He gives you one last rough kiss before pulling away, kissing your neck. You let out another soft moan while throwing your head back. He moves his hands from your ass to your tits, gently massaging them as he slides his tongue from your neck to your earlobe, lightly sucking on it.

That shit drove you to your breaking point. “Just fucking eat me out already! Fuck.” You wished you didn’t open your sassy mouth yet again, because now he stopped. “Impatient little princess, huh?” You nod your head. “Well too fucking bad.” He lightly grasps your throat. “You don’t get to have your way.” You whimper at his response, and he evilly smirks that sexy smirk that drives you wild. He kisses your neck again and goes back to massaging your breasts. He pulls away, admiring your figure. You are completely thrown off track when he pulls your cropped tight-fitted shirt down exposing your bra.

He grabs your tits, shaking them left and right. With your bra still on, he pulls your left boob out and the right one after. He traces his index finger over your right nipple. Just that simple action sends a wave of “tingly-ness” washing over you and you’re clenching your thighs together trying to overcome the massive horniness that won’t go away until you’ve reached your limit. “Please..”

Before you could finish your sentence, he grabs you by your waist and lifts you up. He pushes any contents on the desk that may be in the way, then places you on top. He looks into your eyes yet again before diving towards your right breast, encasing his lips around it. Sucking and softly grazing his teeth on it, while playing with your left breast.

He traces your nipple with his tongue, flicking it and watching your face as he does it. “Oh fuck” slips from your lips. He moves to your left breast, repeating the same action. Gaining more moans and “oh fucks” from you. He moves towards your thighs, rubbing them softly while crashing his lips with yours. He eases his hand on the button of your jean shorts. He unzips them, and you lift yourself up. He teases you by tracing wet kisses along the inner parts of your thighs.

Then he pulls your panties down to remove them and toss them aside. He pushes your legs apart, and your aching core is finally revealed. “Fuck. Such a pretty little pussy.” He uses his index and middle finger to pry open your soaked pussy lips. “As innocent you look, I never would have thought you’d be such a dirty little princess sitting in front of my face so fucking wet for me.”

“Life is full of surprises, right?”

“Which brings me to one question. What was all that shit you were saying earlier?”

“What do yo-” You’re immediately cut off and let out a loud gasp when you feel Namjoon’s tongue lick one long strip from your pussy lips to your clit. Then he spits on your pussy. Your head falls back again and you moan. You feel a slap on your clit that makes you jump involuntarily. “I asked you a question. I need a fucking answer.”

“Mmm. I-I-” He spits on your pussy again then slaps it again and again and again before flicking his tongue on your clit. Drawing circles with it.  Your moans are now hard to control. He slaps your clit one last time, and you squeal. “Such a naughty girl. Don’t want to obey simple commands? Naughty girls don’t get pleasure.” That’s when you realized he pulled away and stopped. He teases you yet again by lightly running his nails across your inner thighs. “No, no please.”

“Please what?” he responds with a firm voice.

“Please just make me cum! Please, I need it. I need you.”

“That’s not how it works princess. I want my answer. Or else, I can’t give you what you so desperately need.”

He stops playing with your thighs, as he’s awaiting your response. You look down at him between your thighs and say,

“I said that you can’t make me cum. But.. I didn’t mean it, I-I swear. I-”

He immediately wraps his arms under your thighs and dives head first into your pussy, tongue fucking you. You look down at him as he looks up at you straight into your eyes while he eats your pussy like his life depends on it. Shaking his head left and right, up and down, gliding his tongue all around.

“Mmm.. you taste so fucking good,” You hear Namjoon whisper.

Your eyes roll back. You’re dripping wet at this point and he rubs your clit with his finger. He spits on your pussy, mixing your juices with his and spreads the wetness all over and around your pussy, even going towards your inner thighs. Your moans are now so loud, you wouldn’t be surprised if the cooks and other staff members outside the door could hear you. That’s when you let out an even louder yelp and could care less if anyone heard you. “Oh shit... Yes! Don’t fucking stop, please.”

“Yeah? You like that shit, don’t you? You like watching me devour this pussy?” The sight and sounds of Namjoon eating you out is just enough to make you cum. It feels so damn good that you can’t even think straight at the moment. He licks and sucks on your clit, changing his rhythm and pace. He inserts one finger slightly curving it, and sliding it in and out. He inserts a second finger and pumps vigorously as he sucks on your clit.

He uses his left thumb to rub your clit while he fingers your pussy, leaving more wet kisses on your thighs and pussy again. Then he attaches his lips to your clit again, while still fingering you. And that sends you over the edge. You warn him that you’re ready to release. “Mmm, that’s right. Cum for me, princess.” That was literally all it took for that tight knot in the pit of your stomach to finally snap. You can’t help your legs shaking uncontrollably, your back arching off the desk, your fingers grazing through Namjoon’s hair and your loud cries of his name as your orgasm washes over you.

You notice him watching your body jerk as you try to gather your thoughts and come down from your high. He chuckles saying,

“Can’t make you cum, huh? Well look at you now.”

He gives you that sexy smirk again. “Oh, fuck you.” You retort.

“We’ll save that for another time. I have to get back to Jungkook. He’s probably wonder-” Namjoon is cut off by the sound of the door flying open. Your heart drops, thinking to yourself: Shit, Valencio has the key. We are fucked.

Then your worst nightmare came true. There he was standing in the doorway, with his jaw dropped.

“Dio mio!”

You shyly smile back at him. Namjoon follows suit, also smiling back and waving his hand in a nervous manner.

[ladywinterwitch]

Fine Line

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You and Bucky are in a infinite loop of discussions and stress. Mission after mission, you spend little time together, and that little is disastrous. Your friends decide that enough is enough and organize a little getaway for the two of you where you and Bucky finally have that conversation.

Warnings: angsty af, Bucky is kind of an ass at the beggining (actually both of them), self-deprecating issues, FEELS, TEARS, making out session but not actual smut

Word Count: 4520

A/n: This was supposed to be a smutty one shot with a tiny plot, but then I decided that it had potential so I expanded it instead. This is the ANGST(iest ?) and full-of-feels thing I wrote so far. Also, I listened to Fine Line by Harry Styles, so I recommend listening to it (in general, bc he’s amazing). In conclusion: This is a rollercoster y’all

                                              (gif not mine)

You and Bucky had reached a point where all you did was argue and being grumpy with each other for the stupidest things, and not. The subject of the discussion could’ve been a risky mission or a dirty garment out of place in your room. And when you weren’t together, you were on missions, and when you were on missions the others had to hear you two complaining about the other and then feeling guilty about it. So they, actually Natasha and Tony thought about sending you on a mini vacation, for both yourselves and the sake of the team. 

You weren’t really sure of it, mainly because leaving you assigned missions and duties to them didn’t seem fair, but the didn’t want to hear excuses and the morning after you and Bucky were already on a flight, first class, to Hawaii. Cheesy and quite overused, but Tony liked the classics. 

At first you and Bucky had been a kinda embarassing and awkward with each other. You were so used to be split up and having discussion after discussion, that it seemed almost foreign to be silent and without anything to do. 

You arrived at the hotel, strictly a five star, and you both couldn’t wait to go hide in your suite. You didn’t like those places where you could literally smell the money circling, and you knew Bucky simply didn’t enjoy people in general. It was still a bit of a problem for him. So you decided to do all the speaking, retrieving the key and listening politely to the few but useful informations about the resort that the receptionist gave you. 

Afterwards you took your baggage to your room. No, actually, it was like a mini apartament. In a very large space were a king sized bed, a couch, an extra thin and wide tv, a big bathroom in marble, and two massive window-walls that had a quite small balcony each, a table and two chairs out. 

You put the big bag on the ground and start to explore, while Bucky puts down two suitcases and just throws himself on the bed. 

-Wow, so much for a romantic escape.- you state ironically while you come back to the baggage and start to put your stuff in the wardrobe. He grunts, face pressed on the sheets. He rolls on his back, crossing his arms under his head. 

-Wasn’t my idea.- he responded calmly. You huff out a laugh, shaking your head slightly. 

-Of course not.- you remarked, slamming the, now empty, suitcase shut. He raised an eyebrow, sitting up in a sitting position. 

-What’s that supposed to mean?- he asks with a hint of bitterness in his voice. You turn around from where you were placing both of your clothes, crossing your arms under your breasts. 

-Are you serious right now, Bucky? When’s the last time you ever did something nice for me? No, not for me, for us.- you made sure to emphasize the last words. You’ve been together for a little over a year. At first he courted you, flirted constantly, made sure to make a compliment at least once a day, often he even left little gifts or organized romantic encouters for the two of you. But in the last three months, it all started to lessen, then fade and now it was like a month since you barely could stand the other’s presence. The sex disappeared too, and it was a big thing, if you said so yourself. You used to be all over each other most of the time. 

You did suffer a lot for this, but you couldn’t find the strenght to face the situation. 

-Oh, sorry if I’d been too caught up a new mission every damn week to take you out to dinner! And you know honey, it’s not like you’ve done much on your behalf either.- he got up from the bed, facing you. The room was so big that you basically were in opposite parts of the space. 

-My poor baby. Like you were the only one who had to work his ass off every single day, out of the compoud or not. And you know why? Because you can’t even fucking be nice to people. You’re not gonna get better if you don’t even try!- you exclaimed gesticulating with your hand. He looked hurt for a split moment, then his face changed again, leaving only anger. 

-Yeah, and I bet you had a lot of time to be nice around others.- his lip darted upwards in a derisive smile. 

-What’s that supposed to mean?- You frowned, crossing your arms again in an outraged manner.

-That you haven’t been touching me in months y/n! When I tried to come close to you, avoided me!- he yelled. 

-That’s why you’ve been behaving like an asshole? Because I didn’t feel like having sex? Is that all that matters to you?- you screamed in return. He laughed bitterly for a second.

-Don’t worry, if that would be all I want I would’ve found another solution.- another solution. Which actually meant ‘I could find whoever I want because I don’t need you’. You took a step back, almost like someone pushed you. You swallowed slightly, not wanting to show how much that actually hurted you. 

-Well, then I guess that’s what you should do.- his expression was a mixture of surprise, regret and sadness. -I’m going home.- you annouce, getting out of the room’s door. You don’t look back at him. 

-

You go down the stairs to the reception and straight to the receptionist to whom you talked before. He was a little surprised to see you come back so soon.

-Miss y/l/n. Is everything alright?- he asks. You have to swallow to not throw up because in fact the last thing you were was ‘fine’. 

-Yes.- you respond in a breath, -But unfortunately I had a family problem so I was wondering if you could book me a flight for New York, please? The first available.- he shook his head, starting to type of the computer.

-I’m really sorry to hear about your family, miss. But unfortunately the weather won’t be the best to fly in the next two days. Actually, a really strong wind and a rainstorm are expected to come already tonight. I’m checking just to be sure, but..-his eyes travelled on the screen in front of him while he talked. 

-No, miss, I’m afraid that today and tomorrow’s flights are being cancelled.- he responded mortified. You huffed heavily, a hand in your hair, your elbow placed on the marble counter.

That was just lucky, wasn’t it? You cursed Thor, just to be sure. 

-It’s okay. It’s not your fault, thanks anyway.- you forced out a smile, walking away.

-

Bucky had a bad habit. Which was his impulsiveness, his almost automatic respose to whatever could potentially hurt him, to hurt it back. That was a consequence of all the years he had to endure under Hydra’s control, the pain, the torture, the control. But unfortunately that affected his everyday life. Sometimes he says things that he doesn’t mean, but that are specifically intended to hurt people, that’s  an autodefense mechanism that he can’t really control, that’s why he hates it. So much. It makes him feel like when he was the winter soldier all over again, controlled, caged. 

He knew that he screwed up the moment he said those words. He couldn’t imagine what must’ve been like for you to hear that phrase coming from the person that you loved. Rejection, mockery even. He was feeling like shit. 

He was so shocked at your last words that he didn’t move from his spot near the bed for a few minutes, his mind screaming accusations and awful things to himself for what he did. 

As soon as he came to himself again he exited the room and started to look for you. He looked in the hall, the restaurant, the open bar, the outer pool, the inner pool. Nothing. A thousand thoughts ran through his mind. Did you really went home without him and your stuff? Did you go away by car? Were you at the airport already? 

He was starting to panic, not because he was worried about your wellbeing. Hell, you were one of the most indipendent and most prepared spies he’d ever met. What he couldn’t take anymore was the guilt. He had the necessity to tell you he was sorry, that he didn’t mean what he said, that not in a million worlds he would choose someone else. 

He was in the middle of the lobby near the exit for the pool, when all of a sudden people started to run back inside. He frowned and glanced out the window wall, finding out that it had just started to rain profusely. Well, at least now he knew that you weren’t in the gigantic garden, nor at the beach. 

He gave up and tried to ask to the reception. He walked near the counter, to the man that gave you instructions earlier that morning. He would’ve remembered your face. He cleared his throat, terribly awkward.

-Uhm. Hello, I wanted to ask if you saw my girlfriend in the last hour?- he cringed for how his voice must’ve sounded like. The man smiled politely and nodded.

-Actually yes, mr. She was here about thirty minutes ago. She asked if she could book a flight, but unfortunately I had to inform her that the Maui airprt is closed due to risky weather.- he felt a knot in his stomach. She was really going to leave him. He swallowed, nodding on his own. 

-I see. Thankyou.- Bucky walked away, towards the elevators. He couldn’t blame you for wanting to leave him. He was fucked up form head to toe. His mind...his body. He knew damn well he didn’t deserve you. 

He decided to return to your room, not really knowing what to do. Now he was sure that you couldn’t have left with an airplane, so you must’ve been hiding somewhere. So he sat on the couch, waiting.

-

You wanted to say that you needed a distraction. Because that’s actually true. But all you did instead was to go to the bar, order the strongest drink on the menu and swallow three of them one right after the other. The bartender gave you a side eye, probably thinking that your behaviour didn’t really match your long feminine floral sundress, but you couldn’t care less. Tired of feeling watched by every single one of this rich douches, you decided to get up and go to the roof terrace. You had learned to have a quite high alchol resistance, so if it weren’t for the light dizziness you could’ve almost forgot about the drinks. 

You took the elevator and pushed the button to the last floor, exiting less than a minute later. The sky was not the best, quite grey and with just the tiniest bit of sun that gives the courage to people to step into the water. Just a few people were there, and mostly by themselves reading something or chatting quietly. You spotted an empty couch under one of the gazebos, just next to a beautifully bloomed appletree. You let you yourself fall onto the soft cushions and without even realizing it, you fell asleep. 

-

-Miss.- a female voice called, waking you up -Miss, I’m sorry to disturb you, but it’s raining and a storm is coming, you have to go inside.- it was a young girl, her white suit and tag name telling you that she’s a hotel employee. You blink a few time waking yourself up completely. 

-Yes, thankyou.- she nods and goes running towards the elevator, an umbrella on her hand. You get up from the couch, thanking whoever God above that you had just the tiniest pain in your head, and not a full-on drunk headache. It was probably thanks to the sleep. How much did I sleep? you wonder while you walk quickly to the elvator, the pouring rain getting your whole body wet. 

Finally the doors opened and you pushed the button to your room’s floor, getting out just a few moments later. You started to shiver slightly. You were soaked from head to toe, wearing just your underwear and a very light sundress, and the hotel had a way too high air conditioning.

-Fucking amazing, a pneumonia would really be the cherry on top, wouldn’t it?- you mutter to yourself pulling out the room’s card, opening the door. 

You entered and saw that Bucky was sitting on the chair near the little round table that was placed in a corner of the room. He was sleeping with his arms crossed, his head bending forward. You sighed tiredly, closing the door behind you, trying not to make noise. Then you took off your nikes, placing them under the long radiator in the bathroom. 

You came back into the bedroom to take dry clothes, but you stopped, looking to the man asleep. You huffed softly, walking to him. You leaned forward raising a hand and placing it on his cheek, his stubble tickling your palm. 

-Buck.- you called quietly enough to not startle him awake. - Wake up, your neck will hurt like hell later.- his chest grumbled softly and then his eyes opened wide for a second. Your hand had dropped before he did, and you were back on your way to the wardrobe. 

-Y/n, baby, I searched for you earlier.. W-why are you completely wet?- he stood up quickly, the sleep gone as soon as he saw her. He groaned, reaching to touch the back of his neck to massage it. 

-Look for yourself.- you answered, closing the bathroom’s door behind you. You felt almost sick. You were feeling both the urge to slap him and kiss him at once. He searched for you? He called you baby, after what he said? Did he mean it? Knowing him probably not, but that shit hurted anyway. You tried to sent those thoughts away, at least to try and relax for some time in the bathtub that was filling itsef with boiling water. You stripped naked, tossing the drenched dress, bra and panties to the side. 

You stepped into the tub and lowered yourself in the hot water, letting out a satisfied moan. 

-

Bucky had waited for you for hours. Walking up and down the room, moving from the bed, to the couch, to the chair. He didnt’t even know how or when did he fall asleep. 

And now he was again waiting. In the meantime he decided to change himself with more comfortable and warm clothes. He put on some dark grey sweatpants, a sleeveless white tee and above it a burgundy hoodie. 

He closed the curtains, tidied up the remaining clothes in the wardrobe and the drawers, closed the empy suitcases and put them in a corner of the room. He looked around, trying to find something, anything else to do to keep him occupied while he waited. Then it hit him. He took the phone receiver and digited the number for the room service. He shoot a quick look at the alarm on the night stand: 6.30 pm. They hadn’t eated anything since they arrived at 10 am. 

The phone rang twice and then a woman picked up.

-Room service, good afternoon.- he cleared his throat.

-Yeah, good..afternoon. I wanted to order dinner if that’s possible?- he didn’t know why it was so hard for him to just be normal, for God’s sake. 

-Absolutely, sir. The menu is in the top drawer.- he froze for a second, realizing that he didn’t even took a look. He opened the drawer and picked up the plastic wrapped paper. He read quickly through it then ordered a few things just to be sure. And because he was hungry as fuck and he eated for three. Tony paid, so it was fine. The lady asked for the room’s number and then said that the food would’ve been up in thirty minutes maximum. He thanked her and hang up.

Just a few seconds later the hair blower noise stopped and you stepped out of the bathroom. You had put on a pair of black leggings and an oversized sweatshirt that was actually his. His heart clenched a bit at that. 

-Hey.- he croacked out. He was so nervous. And the fact that she looked so beautiful, her hair loose, shiny and so soft-looking, her cheeks flushed pink for the heat, her plump lips pouting slightly, didn’t help his heart rate.

-Hey.- you responded softly, starting to rub your arms up and down. Not for the cold, obviously, but in a nervous manner. He munched on his lower lip before sitting back on the edge of the bed.

-Can we talk? Calmly this time.- he questioned. She nodded, joining him but still sitting a little distant. There was a moment of silence that Bucky broke.

-Okay, please, I..I need to- he struggled to talk, and it hurted you phisically to see him like that. The only other situations where you saw him this nervous about something were after his nightmares. 

You got closer and took his face in your hands, making him look at you.

-Bucky. Honey, it’s okay. Deep breaths. Yeah, like that, in and out.- your voice reassuring, but it shocked you when he stood up, taking a few steps back from you. Your mouth agape and your troath was starting to burn slightly. 

-No, no, y/n. It’s not okay.- he huffed out -I said things today...that I didn’t mean. It’s not true that I would go and find someone else, not only because I’m a fucking disaster with people but also because I would never, ever, in a million years replace you. In any way, with anyone. You know why?- he sniffed licking his lips to try not to cry. You weren’t in a much better situation, but you understood that he needed to let it out, so you remained still to listen.

-Because I love you, y/n. I love your wonderful smile, your bright eyes, your peachy scented hair, your skin, that has been through battles but remains soft nonetheless. Just like you. Yeah, because you may be one of the most badass women I’ve ever met, a perfect spy, a master in your job...but you also manage to stay human, true to yourself and in what you believe in. You are my sun and stars. Often the only thing that keeps me from going mad.- he lowered his head, breathing heavily -So, no. You’re not an option. You are my first and last, and the only one I need. The only one I’ll ever choose.- a small smile appeared on your face while silent tears ran down your cheeks. 

There was a moment of silence, and when you had finally decided to got to him and tell him how much he was important for you too, he resumed talking, cutting off your actions at the start.

-You’re all those things and more. And that’s exactly why I understand your decision to leave me.- you frowned, he continued -You don’t deserve me. You don’t deserve to be with someone who’s damaged, body and soul.- the disgust that his voice expressed broke your heart. How could he think something like that? Then you realized that you knew why. You did, even if it was hard to accept that it was in part your fault. For all the times you’ve held him to you, telling him that it was not his fault, that he’s a good man, that he deserves to be loved....just one stupid time broke that fragile wall that you’ve come to create in your time together. 

You rose from the bed, not being able to listen anymore because it was phisically hurting you to see him suffer like that. 

-Bucky.- you called him then cleared your troath the best you could manage. He looked up at you, his cerulean eyes were shiny and now seemed almost transparent with the tears. You walked to him and circled your arms around his shoulders, pushing him flush against you. He let himself go, starting to sob while you scratched the hair at the nape of his neck lightly with your fingertips, the other hand on his upper back rubbing up and down. You bit your lip to stop your quivering lips  while you tried to talk. 

-Bucky, I’m the one who has to ask for forgiveness. I just now realize what my words must’ve meant to you. You probably felt betrayed, humiliated, wrong, and fuck I’m so, so sorry baby...so sorry.- you cried and he tried to separate himself from you, but you held him right there and he remained still, understanding. You wouldn’t have been able to finish if you looked at his face. 

-I want you to know that it’s not true, okay? What I said. You are trying, and I can see that. We all can, I promise you. You just need more time, but we will get through this together and it’ll be okay, alright? I’ll always be with you when you need me. I don’t have excuses for saying that apart from the fact that I was tired and that the last two months have been hell. For both of us. That’s why I’m not angry at you for what you said. I understand the circumstances, and that you really didn’t mean it. Bucky I know how much you love me, and I want you to know that I love you too. So goddamn much that it destroys me to see you like this. You don’t deserve this. You know all those times, after you had a nightmare, or you felt insicure about something..all those times I told you that you deserve to be loved, that you’re a good man and trying your best?- you felt him nod a little on your shoulder, and you smiled nodding on your own.

-I really thought that. And I still do. I’ll never change my mind. So, you’re the one that should be angry, not me. But remeber that I’ll always love you and nothing’s gonna take me away from you. That’s not something you have to worry about.- suddenly he backed away from your shoulder, colliding his lips with yours in a kiss. 

You both seemed to forget the detail that you were having a kinda complicated conversation, because the kiss deepened and you started by taking off his hoodie, he then he slipped your sweatshirt above your head, leaving you just with a white tank top that left little to nothing to the imagination and he groaned, attacking your neck with wet kisses and bites. You gasped and reached to push down his sweatpants, but the doorbell rang interrupting the two of you. You looked at each other and quickly tried to recompose yourselves. You tries to brush your hair with your fingers and wiped away the tears with your palms while he did the same, passing to you his hoodie that was quicker to put on. 

-Thanks.- you said while he went to open the door. A hotel emplyee had brought a cart with several covered plates of food. He widened his eys a bit when he saw the couple. 

-Room service. I believe that you called earlier, sir?- Bucky rose a hand then letting it fall quickly as a confirmation.

-Yeah, I did. Thanks very much. The drinks are in th mini bar, right?- he asked. The employee nodded.

-Exactly, sir. May I enter the room? Unfortunately I can’t leave the cart here, so I’ll have to place the plates inside.- you cleared your troath.

-Yes, sure.- you gave permission and with your spy skills you picked up your discarded sweater from the floor before he could see it. Bucky stepped aside, letting the man in. He pushed the cart inside and started to place the plates onto the coffe tabl in front of the couch. You had your arms crossed while you waited.

You moved your gaze and met Bucky’s one. He was leaning against the wall nearby, mirroring your position, and he was looking at you with the slightest smirk, a look in his eyes that made you blush. You were an adult, vaccinated, professional spy, and a man was making you blush like you were a fifteen year old girl. Unbelivable, you scolded yourself mentally. 

You had to do something to distract yourself or you would’ve probably melted on the spot, so you went near the employee and started to help him. Bucky really did the most with Tony’s credit card uh?, you thought.

-Let me help you.- the man started to say that it wasn’t necesary, but you shut him up saying that you didn’t mind.Two plats later you finished arranging everything and he wished you a good evening and dinner.

-Tony’s gonna be real happy I bet.- you chuckled and your boyfriend walked behind you, wrapping his arms around your middle, his chin resting you your shoulder.

-Can we finish our conversation? I just want to be okay with everything, that’s all.- he asked softy, calmly. You sighed and turned to face him, his arms still holding your figure.

-What you said...I won’t deny that it’s true, it hurted. Just like I hurt you. I think that was the main purpose, for how awful that sounds. We weren’t in the right state of mind to have a decent conversation, like we are now, and that’s okay. You forgave me and I forgive you. I don’t doubt that you mean it when you say all those sweet things- he nuzzled your nose with his making you smile while he mirrored your expression before going serious again -Because I trust you. With my life.  I don’t know if I deserve it, but. - you tried to intervene, but he shut you up with a quick peck on the lips. 

-Please, let me finish. The point is, I don’t want something like this to happen ever again. I don’t want to have periods where we don’t talk or when we do we tear each other apart, because then bullshit like this would exit our mouths even if we don’t mean it. I think, if you agree, that we should put this behind our backs, and instead promise each other to talk when we feel the urge to. What d’ya think?- your eyes were fond while you smile at him, your hand on his cheek, caressing his cheekbone with your thumb.

-I think that’s perfect.- a sweet kiss, then you separated from him going towards the minibar.

-Now,- he smirked watching you -How about we celebrate?- you bend down to take a bottle of, you were sure of it, very expensive red wine and turning back to him.

-I say that I want to eat that food before I eat you.- his strong hands landing on your hips to drag you flush against him, a sly smile half hidden by his teeth tugging at his bottom lip. You laughed, still holding the bottle.

-Well, then let’s eat, because I’ll need all the strenght I can get to love you properly later.- 

Hi again. This got LONG. Also, tell me if it’s shit, I promise I’ll never write something like this again in that case lol

[killingxrangers]

Restoration

Chapter One- October 9th, 2018

Clarke Griffin fell asleep in her bed at her apartment on March 3rd, 2023, and woke up five years in the past, where her father was very much alive and her family was still whole. She still hung out with Octavia and Raven and everyone else every day, and still got into trouble on the weekends. With no clue what happened to send her five years into the past, Clarke decides the only explanation must be she’s been given a second chance to save her father. But she made mistakes during the first attempt at being seventeen, and has the opportunity to repair them- consequences be damned. Everything that went wrong in 2018 she’s going to repair- her family, her friends, Lexa. 

Clarke has a second chance, and will do anything to make 2023 better. 

“Good morning, honey.”

The words are such a terrifying combination of familiar and foreign that Clarke Griffin jerked awake in the bed the moment those words left his lips. The words were soft, slow and gentle, like he always spoke to her in the morning. He knew she was dead to the world, knew she despised how her mother would rip the door open too loudly and wake her up. That’s why Tuesday’s and Wednesday’s, when Abby was already long gone for her shift at the hospital so it was on Jake to make sure their daughter woke up on time, was Clarke’s favorite.

But this morning, all mornings like this one, hadn’t happened since she was seventeen. Since her father died in that car accident driving home from work late one night and everything in Clarke’s life changed. That was nearly five years ago, and Clarke was close to twenty-three now and living in a completely different city than the one she had grown up in. So why was she suddenly hearing her father’s voice? Suddenly in a much larger bed than the twin sized one shoved in a corner that she’d grown accustom to ever since moving to Baltimore?

“Dad?” The words are choked as she sat up, her eyes blearily from sleep (or tears?), staring at the man from her memories, dreams and nightmares. He looked... so normal. So perfectly healthy and so like the loving man Clarke had grown up under. Nothing like the corpse, too mutilated for an open casket, that so frequently haunted Clarke’s sleep. “D-Dad?”

Jake frowned, stepping into the room more. The room, Clarke realized suddenly, that she had decorated at fourteen. Before than, her parents had painted the room a soft purple when she was ten, with white furniture and inspiration phrases stenciled on the wall. Clarke remembered arguing at thirteen to change it to a ‘more mature’ style, to which her mother responded the room was fine for now. At fourteen Jake had taken his daughter’s side, and convinced Abby to let Clarke do what she wished. Purple changed to grey, the full sized bed with a canopy and the telltale signs that it used to be a bunk bed changed to a queen with an upholstered headboard in the center of the room. The inspirational quotes were covered up, shelves added to accumodate the many pictures of Clarke’s friends, the mementos from boyfriends and vacations.

The apartment Clarke shared with three other people at twenty-two had nothing on this bedroom, this house. That apartment was small and cluttered, Clarke having grown used to sharing the tiny space with another med-student. They all tended to flock together, used to working and studying at hell-ish hours. But this.. this house in an upper class area of DC...

“Clarke, honey, you’re really pale. Are you feeling okay?” Jake spoke again as he placed the back his hand on Clarke’s forehead. The urge to jerk away from overwhelming and she had to force herself to remain still. He looked... so like the man she remembered. He hadn’t yet shaved for the morning, dark stubble lining his chin and cheeks, rough and hard how Clarke knew her mother couldn’t stand. Jake would have just woken up a few minutes ago himself, still dressed in a pair of worn sleep pants Abby kept urging him to throw out and an old college t-shirt. Coffee would be brewing on the pot downstairs in the kitchen, a gross green smoothie in two cups that Abby insisted they all drank in the morning would be untouched in the fridge. She made them before she left for work, and Clarke and Jake used to dump them down the drain, both of them wearing conspiratorial grins the whole time. Abby never knew. 

“What... what is going on,” Clarke breathed the question, unable to keep the question in as she stared at her eyes. Tears threatened to spill over and she knew her dad could see them in her eyes. “What.. what’s happening?” 

Jake sat on the bed, his hand moving from Clarke’s head to grip her cheek, part of his large hand around the back of her head, his thumb near the arch of her nose. He was worried, Clarke could hear it in his voice. She wasn't acting right by his standards and nothing was right by her’s. “Clarke, baby, Clarke, you’re worrying me.” 

He turned her this way and that, checking her over for... something neither one of them knew. This was mental, not physical. Something was seriously wrong in her brain. Last night Clarke had gone to bed as a twenty-two year old med student, her roommate still up studying at her desk at two in the morning. They’d had leftover pizza for dinner again because none of them had the time to go out shopping or even to pick up a quick meal. Money was always short for all of them with no reprieve anywhere on the horizon. 

Today Clarke had woken up back in her old bedroom in a large house in DC, where she knew, no matter what age she might be right now, money had never been a thought in her mind. Abby was the chief of general surgery at the hospital, her father the head engineer with a government contract. Clarke had never had a single worry in her mind aside from what her and her friends would be getting up to this weekend. She drove a BMW and had unlimited access to her parents AMEX. Things were good. Great. Until her father died. 

“Daddy?” 

Clarke hadn’t called her father daddy in years, ever since she deemed herself too old for such a childish term. He’d been dad ever since, but Clarke was scared right now. Any minute she’d wake back up in her shitty apartment and go about her shitty twenty-two year old life. 

“Did you sleep okay, baby? You don’t seem sick, what’s wrong?” 

How could she say this wasn’t right? This time period and this life and this interaction wasn’t right? He would have been dead for almost five years now. Would have told her goodbye and to enjoy school one morning and never said anything afterwards. Her and Abby’s relationship would deteriorate rapidly and Clarke would lose herself in sex and drugs and alcohol. 

“I...” She couldn’t say any of those words, not without looking crazy. Whether this was a dream or not (though it felt so painfully real), Jake wouldn’t understand any of it. So she smiled, threw her arms around her father and hugged him tighter than she probably ever has before, and said, “I didn’t sleep well. Bad dreams.” 

Octavia Blake was standing directly across from Clarke, smirking and holding her black school bag that Clarke distinctly remembered they’d always use to smuggle beer into Clarke’s basement. Twenty-two year old Clarke hasn’t spoken to Octavia Blake since right before she turned nineteen. The two of them got into a fight, bad enough to end a years-long friendship (though in all honesty, their relationship had been deteriorating all throughout their first year of college and that first semester of sophomore year. But now, standing before her was seventeen year old Octavia Blake, her best friend since childhood. Her hair was still long and straight, simple compared to the styles she would soon begin to favor. 

“Where’d you go last night? I went off with Raven and by the time I came back you were gone.” 

Clarke had no idea what Octavia was talking about. Could barely focus on the sentence, actually. She was so engrossed in staring at her friend, her best friend, that all other thoughts escaped her. Standing here, in the crowded school hallway as Clarke struggled to remember her combination lock, she can’t remember why that fight was strong enough to break up this friendship. She’d never felt closer to someone else than she did to Octavia Blake. There had always been something about Octavia, a bond that, at the time, nothing could seem to even rattle. 

Octavia shoved Clarke’s shoulder, a habit that had developed early on when Octavia thought Clarke was being particularly weird about something. “What is up with you today? You haven't even said one word to me.” 

“Sorry, hi,” Clarke shook her head, forcing herself out of her memories (though, did they count as memories if they’re yet to happen? Soon-to-be memories? Thinking about this was giving Clarke a headache). “I, uh, barely slept last night and I guess I'm still out of it.” 

Octavia waggled her eyebrows, something that Clarke remembered used to drive her older brother Bellamy insane, especially as it tended to follow Octavia deciding to do something stupid. “Is that why you left yesterday? Ditched me for Finn, huh?” 

God, Finn Collins. Even just thinking about him now caused a pain in Clarke’s heart that she wasn’t ready for. She had forgotten all about Finn Collins as soon as she left for college. He cheated on her senior year and lied about it for months. The truth came out the day before graduation, and she hadn’t talked to him since. The thought of seeing him now, seventeen and handsome, full of that teenage confidence that first attracted Clarke to him... 

“Uh, no, uh, sorry.” That sentence was a mess, offering no explanation to why Clarke was out of it or why she had ditched Octavia. She couldn’t recall what last night was, which meant nothing important could have happened for her to remember five years later. Something with the group, or just Octavia? The ringing bell saved Clarke was trying to think of something, and Octavia said bye quickly, moving towards the hallway that housed most of the English classes, leaving Clarke to sort out her combination on her own. 

Like last night, the combo was clearly not worth retaining in her mind for all those extra years, and she soon walked away without any books, wandering aimlessly  as she didn’t know what class she had right now. All she knew was: 

She was seventeen again and a Junior

Her father was still very much alive 

She’s still dating Finn Collins 

Still friends with Octavia Blake and everyone else 

Her and her mother still communicate 

She remembered the big things, the stuff that shaped her into the adult she was becoming at twenty-two. Finn cheating, getting drunk during senior prom, that stay in the mental hospital, her mother dating Marcus Kane, accepting the offer at Georgetown for pre-med, Lexa. Clarke wouldn’t even allow herself to think about Lexa fucking Woods right now. 

“Griffin, any particular reason you’re wandering the halls without a pass?” 

Why is it that, given all the things that Clarke can’t remember, she without a doubt can remember the sneering and mocking tone of fucking Mrs. Pierce. Spinning around, Clarke isn’t surprised to find the same level of hatred she felt at seventeen flaring up now as she looked at the woman, scowling immediately in response. “Going to the bathroom, Mrs. Pierce.” The lie came easily, one she used so many times at a teenager to this very woman and many more. 

“If I were to escort you, I wouldn’t happen to find Octavia Blake and Raven Reyes in the bathroom waiting for you, would I?” 

And this time, for perhaps the first time, Clarke could honestly answer, “Of course not, ma’am.” She couldn’t help the smirk that came to her mouth despite the statement, and Mrs. Pierce frowned in return. “I just need to pee, ma’am.” 

Mrs. Pierce pointed in the opposite direction, towards the math hall, and it clicked a memory into place. Clarke had AP Calculus this period, a class filled predominately with seniors. She didn't hate the class, though she still operated under the assumption that it was impossible to love math. The first time around taking the class, Clarke had rued her mother for forcing the course upon her, because who needed AP calc anyway? But once she reached college and that was one less class to worry about, she couldn't have been more pleased. So, without a response to Mrs. Pierce, she turned and headed towards the maths section, a class she now knew she didn’t share with anyone important enough to her story. 

They’d come later, she thought. Octavia in AP English 11; Jasper in art; all of her friends in lunch; Raven in history; Octavia and Raven in Physics... The list went on and on. It wasn't a surprise she did poorly this particular year. Her mother had been on her the entire Junior year, yelling about poor performance and how did she expect to get into med schools went grades like those? Clarke couldn’t fault her mother, despite not listening to what Clarke truly wanted, and it took a decent amount of pull on her mother’s end for Clarke to be accepted into Georgetown to begin with. 

Was that was this was, then? A second chance to improve her teenage years? Her adult life wasn’t ideal, but it would get better. She needed to get through med school and then things would get better. She couldn’t think of anything to do now, in this time period, that would improve her life at twenty-two. No matter what she did med school would follow, and Clarke’s father would- 

April Nineteenth. 

That’s the day of his death. Was that why she had come back to seventeen of all ages? She’d never been more depressed in her life than at that age. It all started with her father, so-

Clarke would stop it. She would prevent him from going to work that day, or leaving at that time. Something. She would do something, anything, to stop him from dying. It was early October now. She had time. She’d be patient, and smart, and would let no one know that she wasn’t seventeen year old Clarke, but twenty-two year old Clarke who lived in Baltimore and attended Hopkins. And she would stop her father from dying. 

Hi guys, this is just a super short intro to what this story will be about. It is Clexa, and that’s a relationship that will be explored later on, as it happened to Clarke as an adult and as she tries to fix it now. Other relationships are Octavia x Lincoln, Bellamy x Echo, and Raven x Luna. Let me know what you guys think! 

[ariianas]

ヽ・ﾟ─── 𝓌ʰᵉᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃʳᵗʸ'ˢ 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫﹔

quiet when i'm coming HOME and i'm on my own ...

sweaty palms accompanied this feeling that ariana couldn’t quite shake, the feeling of the unknown. taking a vacation had come from shawn’s own mind, and yet, seemed like ariana was spending most the outing within the confines of their rented space. any work related meetings were banned as a conclusion, considering they promised to leave their hectic lifestyles back in the states ( as well as ariana’s sanity, at this point. ) figuring it’d be the best thing to give shawn one more call to diminish her ‘ overly dramatic ’ ways, she attempted another call once more. the instant greeting to shawn’s almost full voicemail was definitely the last straw. texts previously sent to her brunette lover hadn’t been sent, which opened a plethora of negative scenarios to run by her mind. one by one, the tiny female led her brain throughout every possible explanation for his actions. the last one, in particular, sent chills through her entire body. it couldn’t be. he wouldn’t dare. shaky hands managed to settle themselves long enough to fumble through phone, without any hesitation, punching in an awfully familiar number into her keypad. she could hear the rush of blood pounding to her ears, her heart thudding in her chest, her face becoming flush of any pigment as she just waited. helplessly.

                      ‘ 911 ─── what’s your emergency ﹖’                                                        ‘ hi, i ... i, um, would like to issue a wellness check. it’s urgent. ’

ariana’s mouth had been moving during this conversation, but all of the noise was simply drowned out. her inner being was in full control, on full display, and this was deteriorating her happiness by the second. three hours without communication was simply unlike shawn, who seemed to gush at the pure mention of her name, which caused ariana to panic even more. the kicker of it all lied in ariana’s familiarity to these kinds of situations, being placed in a similar position months prior. empty knocks at gregg’s door was harmless, right ? maybe he was busy, maybe camila had been home, maybe he wasn’t expecting visitors ─── except none of those were the answer. a broken door was the result of ariana’s impatience, afterward revealing a sight that would still be able to haunt the starlet to this day. her lifeless, overdosed husband. flashbacks to that exact day would find ariana’s attention during random moments of her day, and today had been no different. part of her begged and pleaded for a positive response as she lurked around the empty, spacious halls, finding it nearly possible to stay still while waiting for a call back. was this normal ? did the police usually take this long to call back ? what if something really did happen ?

nanoseconds turned into seconds ─── seconds turned into minutes, minutes into hours and now ─── brunette tresses fell effortlessly between her fingers as she made herself comfortable ( to no avail though ), before becoming startled by the obnoxious bangs at the front door. she could feel her heart slowly making its way to the pit of her stomach while she began her journey to the door, even her quickest stride felt years long. standing behind the door, ariana desperately tried to keep her composure, a quick deep breath would momentarily ease her spiraling demeanor. she jolted the lock to unlock the door, taking another second before swinging it open, revealing only a partial amount of her face. uh oh. this wasn’t good. the arrival of two police cars was parked in the driveway inches away from the door, consequently confirming what she already knew, sent her heart to her ass. of fucking course. before she could even speak, the oncoming wave of tears caused immense burning to her eyes, becoming very apparent that this was too much before it even started.

                           ‘ miss grande﹖you’ll be pleased to know that we found him, but ─── ’                                                          ‘ ─── BUT? is shawn ok ? ’                                                ‘ come w i t h us, we have no problem escorting you to him.’

the car ride, which felt like an eternity, provided ariana with a chance to get her mind right. she wasn’t sure where he was, or his condition, but being somewhat put together was key to surviving this already hectic evening. several minutes later, one right turn allowed the car to drive straight into the hospital’s main driveway. this, on it’s own, instantly sent the young female into an internal hysteria. her blood was boiling, her heart reached it’s maximum pace, and her knees wobbled while she waited for instructions. thankfully she was able to snatch her sunglasses to hide the massive puffs that she called her eyes, ready and willing to put on a fake smile for anyone until she’d be ushered into the building. in the mean time, her chocolate orbs fixated themselves as the officers hopped out of the car to open her door, making this transition as easy and less frantic as they possibly could. her anxiety was already on the brink of throwing her completely off the edge, and the unsettling aura surrounding this hospital couldn’t quite prepare her to what she was about to see.

the click-clack on her signature thigh highs distracted ariana from anything else, and could you blame her ? her future as she knew it was hanging in the balance of shawn’s condition, which, as a result, had none nothing but throw her into this already narcissistic attitude. it felt like everyone was already walking on eggshells, meanwhile all the craved was answers. and boy, was she about to get it. she stood smack in the middle of the two officers, trying her hardest to keep up with her pace, casually avoiding any eye contact with the surrounding figures. there just wasn’t any time. a couple turns around the corner and they’re there, or so she thinks, the sudden halt of the officers primarily gave it all away. this was it. do or die. literally.

                 ‘  this is it, miss grande. but, i’d, uh, i’d take a second to breathe before going i ... ─── ’

ariana was tired of listening. tired of crying. tired of everything. the anticipation was eating away at her core while standing her, ultimately juggling their well-being with her next choices. ignoring the officer’s warning, trembling hands reached for the door knob, not even taking a second to think before swinging the door wide open. it was almost as if time ran in slow motion from the minute her eyes laid themselves on shawn. she was halfway into the room, mouth jarred open, tears already practically flowing down from her face. “baby ! what did you do to yourself ?” she called out to him, but couldn’t proceed to look at him in that way any longer. ariana found solace in the form of the officers whom proceeded to reciprocate some form of sympathy, allowing her to viciously cry and clench onto his shirt. “i fucking knew it ! i knew it. i fucking called it, i knew it,” her voice was coarse from the screams that probably echoed throughout the entire unit, but she didn’t care. seeing him there, lifeless, was another mental image bound to haunt her mind for months and months to come. there was no way to unsee this tragedy.

                   ‘  i’m sorry for ... that,’ ariana replied, offering the slightest, yet most painful smile, ‘ i needed it.‘                                                               ‘ it’s fine, really. are you alright ? ’                                                                               ‘   barely. ’

a quick shrug of the shoulders added to her remark as she turned away from the officer, beginning to focus her attention on the sole reason why she’s here. shawn. she dragged herself closer to the bed to get a better look of the man whom she loved, and continued to fall in love with everyday. her eyes were noticeably occupied with tears while hovered over him, just his unresponsive state was enough to have her in complete shambles. the usual. “baby, i don’t know if you can hear me,” she started, unable to keep her wits together, “but i have some things that i need to get off my chest. alright ?” her hand reached down to touch shawn’s, taking a moment to intertwine their fingers together, “i’m so fucking sorry that i didn’t see it. all the pain, the hurting, i was clueless. i’m so sorry. please forgive me for not seeing the signs sooner, shawn. this would’ve never happened if i wasn’t so fixated on this tour, or the future, or literally bombarding you with my previous relationship. it’s a lot for anyone to handle, i know, but that’s why i need you to wake up cause i’d be even more a fucking mess without you. you hear me, baby ? do everyone a favor and just wake up now. please. you don’t even have to worry about a thing, alright ? i’ll be right here by your side until you wake up and every single moment after that until you’re absolutely tired of me, no matter what. i love you.” 

[ebhenah]

Busy #Fictober18 (Voltron FanFic)

#Fictober18 Day 17

Prompt: "I'll Tell You But You're Not Gonna Like it."

Voltron Fanfiction. S07 spoilers. Angst.

Keith pov, Garrison Days, Post-Adam/Shiro split, Post-Kerberos

Rating: T- some language, discussion of same sex relationship, mentions of foster care, death, illness, broken homes, grief.

Adam was asleep on the couch when he got home. His briefcase was lying on the floor beside his shoes, his coat draped over the counter of the little island that separated the kitchen from the living room. Keith could see in his mind the exact path he'd taken when he'd gotten home. It was a short one. Maybe 15 feet. Door, drop bag, shed shoes, step, shuck coat, step step, drop tie onto coffee table, step, collapse on couch. This was pretty much par for the course now.

As far as the Garrison was concerned, ex-fiance's didn't qualify for bereavement leave. Neither did 'foster kid of ex-fiance'- because technically that's what he was. Shiro had failed the medical assessment to foster or adopt, but Adam had passed. So, on paper, he was Adam's legal responsibility, not Shiro's. So, when the news had come in about the mission being lost- leaving a smoking crater in the center of their lives- they'd discovered that they didn't qualify for the supports in place for bereaved families. Adam had quickly exhausted all his sick days, vacation time, and banked personal time. Keith had run out of allowed absences from class even faster.

Once that had happened, it was back to 'normal' life in an abrupt shift that left them both reeling. So now, Adam pushed himself through a full day of teaching class and attending staff meetings and making sure he got his requisite hours of flight time and continuing education, and the second he walked through the door, he pretty much collapsed.

Keith, on the other hand, was more hardened to the SHIT that life liked to throw at him. So, he went to class, did his best to keep his head down, then came home and kept busy. That was easy to do, really. There were still meals to be made, dishes to wash, laundry to do, dust to wipe down, homework to be completed, bills to pay, bathrooms to scrub, and vacuuming to be done, after all. Plus, he had to feed Adam, keep him on task while he did lesson prep and graded papers, keep him AWAY from the wine and photo albums (he wasn't a drunk or anything, but even one glass of wine combined with the photo albums meant the night was lost to the bottomless pit of grief that seemed to reside in every picture of Shiro), and then herd him into his own bed before he crashed on the couch.

Keith didn't mind. Honestly, he didn't. Busy was good. Staying still was his problem. Because if he stopped moving for even a moment… BAD things happened. He never really FORGOT. Shiro's loss was always right there, lurking around the edges of his brain, dimming everything into pale, washed out colors and muffled sounds. But most of the time, he could avoid thinking about what the loss actually MEANT. It was when he stopped moving, stopped doing STUFF, that the meaning crept in and devastated him.

No more hover bike races. The last one they'd been on was it. That was the last time he'd ever hear that laugh on the wind. Hear that proud cheer as Keith overtook him. See that competitive little smirk as he watched Keith pass him and then buckle down to put the 'kid' in his dust. No more quiet, dusty conversations watching the sun set before heading back to base in a much more leisurely and companionable ride. Done. That part of his life was closed away forever now- just like hanging out at the firehouse while his Dad was on shift was done and closed off.

No more stupid sing-alongs while they cleared the dinner table and washed the dishes. No more chasing a laughing Shiro out of the kitchen as he protested that 'it's just toast! Even I can make toast!" because, no. He really could NOT make toast, and no one wanted to fill the house with smoke from burnt bread. No more overhearing weirdly flirty arguments about coffee vs tea, or crosswords vs sudoku that always seemed to end in someone giggling and someone else shushing and then a bedroom door shutting just as Keith cranked his stereo and found something else to think about. No more REAL-but-not-scary arguments about wedding planning and place settings and guest lists. No more threatening Keith with having to give a toast or throw a bachelor party. No more surreptitious thumbs up of encouragement when Iverson cracked down on him at school, or affectionate shoulder grabs when he blew up at fucking Griffon, or quiet hugs when everything seemed to pile onto him all at once and the world seemed huge and hostile.

All that stuff was in his past now, and it was best if he just… put it out of his mind and stayed busy. So, he set his backpack on a chair and started digging through the cupboards for something to put together for dinner. They were almost out of produce, and the pantry supplies were running a little low. There would need to be a grocery trip soon. He hated those, because Adam insisted on coming and when people saw Adam they stopped to offer condolences, to check up on them- which made him remember what it all meant, and sent Adam into a downward spiral again. He wished he could just take the list and do the shopping alone, it would be so much less painful.

Still, for today, there was enough to choose from that he could feed them. Beef, stir-fried with mushrooms, onions, garlic, peppers, and carrots. Soba noodles in some jarred ginger sauce he found way in the back of the cupboard. Tinned peaches for Adam, mandarin oranges in cherry jello for him. Nothing fancy, but hot, and kosher, and more or less healthy. All with enough left over for them to pack up lunches for the next day, too.

"You cooked?" Adam's voice was sleep rough, his glasses askew from having fallen asleep with them on.

"I mean, it's not restaurant quality, but it's edible," Keith answered, dishing up the food.

"You shouldn't have to do that, Keith," Adam sighed, "I'm the adult, here."

"You needed rest. I needed to keep busy. Win, win," he replied, setting one plate in front of Adam and gesturing for him to sit. "Besides, I'll be 18 soon enough, right?"

"Right," he flashed Keith a smile, weak but genuine. "Which reminds me, your worker should be dropping by soon, I got an e-mail the other day." He pulled out his phone, clearly intending to check, and Keith's heart sank.

"You should eat first," he prompted, "before it gets cold."

"This will only take a second- I don't want to forget about it. Just let me… Keith? Why do I have an e-mail from Iverson flagged urgent?"

"Ummm…" he fidgeted, "I mean, I'll tell you, but you're not gonna like it. So, maybe we should wait until after dinner?"

"Mmmhmm… that's not going to happen. You tell me now and I won't read the e-mail until after dinner. How's that sound? Orrrr, I'll read Iverson's version of events FIRST."

"Alright, fine," Keith grumbled sitting at the table across from Adam, "I'm suspended. For fighting. One week."

"Dammit, Keith! What happened?" Keith had thought Adam looked exhausted before, but he'd been wrong, because right before his eyes Adam sort of… withered… like the strength and energy had just been sucked right out of him.

"I don't even really know. We were in the simulators today, and I screwed up. I don't even know HOW, I've aced that particular simulation so many times, but today… I just couldn't get my head in the game. So, I was already in a shit mood, and then fucking Griffon…"

"Language," Adam chided, earning a scowl.

"FREAKING Griffon," Keith corrected, "started crowing about beating my score and got in my face and the next thing I know, we're being hauled off to the office."

Adam sighed, "alright, first things first. Are you hurt? Does your uniform need cleaning or repairs?"

"No, everything is fine. He bloodied my nose, but I bled on him, not myself. I have like, a bruise on one of my knuckles from when I socked him in the jaw, but that's about it."

"Let me see."

"Adam, it's nothing."

"Keith! Let me see your hand," he insisted. Reluctantly, Keith held out his hand. The bruise had spread, covering three of his knuckles now, but it was obviously a minor injury. "We'll put some witch hazel on it after we eat."

"That's it?" Keith asked, more than a little shocked.

"Do you think there is anything I can say to you about getting into fights at school that hasn't already been said?"

"No, probably not."

"Right, and I'm smart enough to know that if Takashi couldn't get through to you about this, I'm sure as hell not going to be able to. So. Suspended for one week. Consider yourself grounded for the same duration… and you will be completing all of the class work that you are missing here at home… AND writing an apology to James Griffon."

"What? But he's an ASS!"

"And YOU have to learn how to deal with assholes without resorting to violence, Keith! I know you are aware of the fact that there are assholes EVERYWHERE, but you are almost 18 and there are going to be very serious consequences for you if you can't get your temper under control. He was an ass, but YOU threw the first punch, so you apologize. Be glad I'm letting you write it instead of giving it face to face."

"I can't believe this," he muttered, pushing food around his plate.

"Listen, kid," Adam said, his voice soft, "I'll fight for you, you know I will… but I'm not Takashi Shirogane." He choked on a sob, but pushed through, "I'm not the darling of the Garrison, the star pilot poster child. My words and opinions don't have the same weight as his do… did… as his did. I can't protect you as well. I need you to work with me."

"Fine," Keith couldn't even look at him. He knew if he lifted his eyes for even a second, he'd see how broken Adam was, and he could not cope with that right now. So, he did the only thing he could, kept himself busy with eating and tried not to think about how things used to be.

[mhdiaries]

Diary of Toralei Stripe

Better have nine lives if I catch you reading my diary. 

July. Two. Five.

Ooh they’re telling math jokes now...

Q: What do you get if you divide the circumference of a jack-o-lantern by its diameter?

A: Pumpkin Pi!

The math geeks I’m stuck on this bus with think that this is funny. So funny in fact, that the harpy sitting in front of me shoots milk out of her nose when she hears the punch line. I don’t think it’s funny at all. I’d rather be listening to the music I have stored on my iCoffin but two hours into our five-hour ride home my iCoffin gave up the ghost. It should have lasted the whole trip and then some except that one of my math camp roomies “accidentally” unplugged my iCoffin charger last night when she plugged in her fright light. I don’t even know why a ghost needs a fright light. What? Was she afraid she would trip over something and go “bump in the night?” I realized what happened when we woke up this morning but we had to leave first thing so I didn’t have time to put a full charge on it. At least I got enough battery life to block out the two hours dedicated to the singing of “X Number Bottles of Ghoul Juice on the Wall.” To add to the misery the seats on this bus only have room for two monsters and Meowlody and Purrsephone are of course sitting together which left me stuck in a seat next to a troll named Teala who had never been away from her bridge for more than a day until she came to math camp.She cried herself to sleep every night. Not that any other monster but me noticed but then again I notice everything. I also noticed Teala wasn’t laughing at any of the math jokes either. In fact she seemed to be more miserable than I was. Well now, here I was thinking she was missing her bridge but if that were the case why didn’t she seem excited about going home? “Dish,” I said. She turned and looked at me for a moment and then stared back ahead. “Okay - suit yourself then,” I said and then tried to curl up in the seat to take a cat nap which I had almost accomplished when she said; “My boy-fiend broke up with me...by text...the first night of math camp.” She still wasn’t looking at me but she wasn’t crying either. “He was my first real boyfriend and...and I don’t know why I’m telling you ‘cause you don’t seem to care about any monster besides yourself and you’ll probably figure out a way to use this to make me even more miserable.” I didn’t show it, but that really hurt. Just because I enjoy the chaos that a good practical joke brings doesn’t mean that I’m intentionally cruel does it? I don’t think it does and besides; where’s the fun of kicking some monster when they’re already down? It’s a lot more fun to see the surprise on a monster’s face when they think they’ve got it all together and you can “help them” see that they don’t. So I said, “Guess you better tell me the whole story then so I can do a thorough job.” That actually brought a ghost of a smile to her face. Teala told me that her ex boy-fiend was applying to colleges and that he decided he needed to keep his “options open” in case he might meet his “intellectual equal” at school. At first I didn’t believe he actually wrote that and then she showed me the text. “Does he really think he’s that smart,” I asked. She kind of shrugged and said, “He’s scary smart but not as good at math as I am, especially withy differential equations.” She told me he really wanted to get into this one school because his favorite mad scientist taught there. I’d never heard of the school but I knew who the mad scientist was because Mr. Hack made use watch a bunch of his videos in class. The videos were deadly boring but the mad scientist had this odd accent and strange speech pattern. I used to mimic his voice in class to make Mr. Hack jump. I’d wait until Mr. Hack’s back was turned and then scream, “Huhhacckkk - theeese stuuudannts reeelease youuu wuh-ill ah-yuat wa-unce!” It cost me several days in detention and a trip to Headless Headmistress Bloodgood’s office the last time I mimicked the mad scientist but even Mr. Hack admitted he couldn’t tell the difference between the scientist’s voice and my imitation of it. We talked about a few more things and then Teala finally fell asleep. I was able to finally fall asleep as well but not before having to hear another math joke followed by an explosion of milk from the seat in front of me.

July. Two. Eight.

I went to MH today to pick up some pictures I left in the FearBook office. When I was done I went up to the belfry. It’s a good place to keep an eye on things without other eyes watching you. It’s also a good place to take a nap. Usually the hunchback who rings the bells...the bells...works up there but he was on summer vacation in France or somewhere so I had the place to myself; until Spectra came floating through that is. She thinks that she’s very stealthy but it’s almost impossible to sneak up on me and I heard the rattle of her chains long before she actually appeared. I pretended to be asleep for a moment then with my eyes still closed I said, “What do you want Spectra?” “Oh, hello Toralei. Did you hear the news?” Most monsters don’t trust anything they hear from Spectra. I know better. There’s always an element of truth in her “news”. You just need to know how to listen. Here’s an example; Spectra told me she heard that Nefera is moving back to town and will be taking over for Ms. Kindergruber in Home Ick. Not only that but Ms. Kindergruber is also going to quit teaching to become a roadie for her favorite rock and roll band. Now as much fun as it is to imagine Ms. K. climbing stacks of amps while wearing a sleeveless leather vest, bandana and steel toed boots it’s not going to happen. Although when compared to the thought of Nefera actually “lowering herself” to teach, it’s practically a done deal Ms K will be hitting the road. I’m pretty sure out of that confusing jumble of information the one true fact is that Nefera is moving back to town and probably sooner rather than later...now there’s a monster who enjoys kicking some body when it’s down.

July. Three. Zero.

Got an email today from Teala, the troll girl I sat with on the ride home from math camp. Apparently her ex boy-fiend told her that he got a call from the mad scientist he wanted to study under. The scientist told her ex that his test scores indicated a “skuhh-ill weeeakness in diffuhh-wrenntial eeeequay-shunns” and that her ex should find some monster that was intellectually superior and “geeet sah-ummm tuutorr-ing”. Her ex was certain it was the professor since “no monster could fake that voice.” He also apologized to Teala for being an arrogant jerk and asked if she would tutor him in differential equations. Teala told him that she would have to check her schedule. Sometimes it is just purrrecious the way things work out for the beast.

August. One. Three.

I bought a ball of dragon thread today for Sweet Fangs. It’s just about the only material that’s strong enough to survive more than one play session with her. I don’t know what I’m going to do when Sweet Fangs gets bigger because I’m probably going to need the whole dragon and I’m not sure mom and dad are going to be good with that.

August. Two. Five.

M&P came over today. They’re like my sisters and I can’t imagine how boring unlife would be without them. We do just about everything together and some monsters even think we’re related but we’re not. Not that it matters since we don’t really care what other monsters think anyway. We are who we are and any monster or monsters that want to try and herd us better get ready for a long miserable day. Today we weren’t worried about being herded, today was a brainstorm session. Our mission, repay Cleo de Nile and her minions for not only ruining our perfectly planned graduation prank but also for taking away part of our valuable summer vacation by “arranging” our trip to math camp. Knowing that it was Cleo who got the better of us is almost as irritating as being wet or having my fur stroked the wrong way. I can’t believe that I actually helped her when she first wanted to be a part of the Fear Squad. Cleo didn’t even know how to do a cartwheel, much less a round off. So I took her under my claw and taught her everything I knew and since I’d been doing gymnastics from the time I was a kitten I knew a lot. I finally got Cleo to the point where she started to “get it” and instead of being a liability she started contributing. I figured that for all my hard work and leadership Nefera would make me the Fear Squad captain when she graduated. Only she didn’t - she passed it onto Cleo. I can still remember what Nefera said to me when I confronted her about it. “I didn’t want Cleo to succeed - I wanted her to be humiliated but since you helped her, you get to deal with the consequences.” Then Cleo acted as if she deserved to be the captain and that she automatically knew everything there was to know about leading the Fear Squad. She should have showed some humility and stepped aside. She didn’t so now it’s up to me to teach her some new lessons and I can’t wait for class to be back in session.  

August. Three. One.

There’s a meteor shower tonight, which will give us the purrrfect opportunity to practice the three D’s. Divert. Design. Demure. First I divert attention away from myself - although tonight the meteor shower should do that for me, next I design a “surprise” for my intended victim student and then after the unexpected happens I demure - “Oh my, what happened here?” More later...

Ended up scraping the three D’s tonight, mostly because the meteor shower diverted me. I was supposed to meet M&P at this coffee shop down close to the beach - it’s the only time I go to the beach since sand + water + fur = unhappy werecat - but they were late so I grabbed a catnipuccino and waited. The owner turned down the lights of the shop so it was almost dark and then the sky was falling. The ghouls showed up just as somewhere down the beach a monster started playing guitar and I said, “Just because we’ve got nine lives doesn’t mean we need to rush through this one.” And we didn’t.

[angeltriestoblog]

Nathan Road and Choi Hung Estate + Tips: Hong Kong 2018, Part 2

Hi, guys! Thanks for sticking around. Today, I’m telling you all about everything that went down during our last day in Hong Kong, and giving out tips as well to anyone who has plans of visiting the city. Since I was very excited for this trip, I took the initiative when it came to planning out the itinerary. I made it my mission to binge watch vlogs and read up on the best places to visit, eat and shop that would satisfy the stomach, heart, wallet and Instagram feed. So according to our agenda for Christmas Eve, we were to have breakfast at the famous Australia Dairy Company, then drop by Choi Hung Estate (yes, this is the actual name of the colorful houses) and Mum’s Not Home (that Instagram-worthy coffee place filled with plants). Then, we’d just look for places around the area where we could scout for clothes and eat dinner. But before setting out to navigate the often puzzling transportation system, we were to roam around the area we were staying in first, eat some street food, go shopping and sightseeing - the usual. The mere minutes we were supposed to spend there stretched into hours until we eventually became so pressed for time we had to change our plans.

Upon looking at Australia Dairy Company’s IG story and seeing the long and winding line of people dying to try their milky scrambled eggs, we had to cross that out of the list, which left me with two other options. I picked Choi Hung Estate on a whim, so my mom and I set out and traveled 11 stations to get there. Several websites had instructed me to take either Exit C4, and true enough, I ended up right in the middle of the complex. I only had to walk to the parking lot behind us and climb a couple of flights of stairs to reach the famed basketball court, which gave a full view of the vibrant buildings towering above it.

Cantonese for “rainbow”, Choi Hung Estate is a residential area established by the Hong Kong government, painted as such to uplift the spirits of their tenants. Its undeniable aesthetic appeal has attracted both tourists and professionals, as it has been featured in marketing campaigns and even a music video of Korean groups (which is honestly how I found out about it) (stan LOONA and stream Love & Live). But most of us aren’t aware that this, along with other public housing projects, has also played an important role in Hong Kong’s history. Due to an unforeseen influx of refugees from China during the time of the second World War, and a fire that displaced over 50,000 of them living in a squatter area, the government took matters into their hands and built permanent estates for them to live in. At present, 30% of the population benefits from this service, while 16% live in apartments purchased with the help of government subsidies.

Okay, enough with the research paper-looking part of this post. Fast forward to later that night, we waited at the bus terminal conveniently located just a few steps away from where we were staying and took an hour long trip to the airport. I enjoyed having my own seat in the corner, listening to music while gazing out the window, admiring the bright lights and bustling people that somewhat encapsulate Hong Kong’s nightlife.

Flights back home are rarely enjoyable to me because it means that I’m going back to reality, but I had bothered checking the videos section of the in-flight entertainment of Cathay Pacific and found several music shows and concert footage with Wanna One in them. I also ate media noche with my family, and arrived back in the Philippines just about five minutes after the clock had struck 12: we literally made it home for Christmas.

This was my second time organizing a trip, the first one being our vacation to South Korea last summer. Back then, I’d get so upset if things didn’t go according to plan, we’d be set back for a couple of hours and adjustments would have to be made due to circumstances beyond our control. Looking back, our Hong Kong trip did not go exactly the way I had planned, but this time around, I didn’t mind as much: in fact, I still had one of the greatest times of my life. Here are some tips that I have to make sure that you make the most out of your stay as well!

First, book a place in a great location. Take us, for example: our hotel was smack dab in the middle of Nathan Road, 3.6 kilometers lined with malls, shops and restaurants for anyone’s eyes to feast on. There were also money changers if ever we needed to convert cash, and a 7/11 that I constantly raided for Haagen Dazs Speculoos ice cream for when we had to buy and reload our Octopus cards. These are crucial to have on hand at all times, by the way, as this serves as any tourist’s means of payment for all public transport, most retail shops, parking meters and vending machines, among many others. Other factors to keep in mind when looking for a place to stay in would be its proximity to modes of public transportation, and the other places on your itinerary.

Second, be extra patient and willing to make compromises! Hong Kong did prove itself to be quite the challenge to go around: the weather was cold, there was a lot of walking involved to get from place to place. People also move really fast, like all inhabitants have a meeting to get to in five minutes, and they rarely apologize if they bump into you in the process. In addition, most of them smoke too - there aren’t any designated smoking areas, much to the dismay of those who are allergic to cigarette smoke like me so the chances of getting the stuff puffed in your face are high. But, I refused to let any of those external factors get in the way and keep me from having a good time.

We also paid a visit just in time for the holidays, which is obviously peak season: it was crowded everywhere we went, queues were long for everything from tourist attractions to bathrooms and waiting times often stretched out for indefinite periods of time. There really isn’t any other way to work around this, except to ditch all your plans and choose to stay at home so if you can’t afford to make that sacrifice, it would be best to accept the things that come with travelling during this time of the year. Drop places that aren’t the most convenient to go to at the moment, and switch them out for more realistic alternatives. If you’re the type who has a lot of specific restaurants on your itinerary, I’d suggest that you don’t be too particular of where you want to eat: there are several great places to eat just littered around the area. The little shops and stalls in the middle of the street, or hidden in alleyways and basements are the ones that locals usually flock to, and thus have the best finds.

Third, be sure to book a WiFi hotspot online as soon as possible! If there’s one screw-up we made during the trip that you could learn from, it’s that we failed to do this, and ended up suffering the consequences. Literally the minute you get your hands on your tickets, head over to Klook and reserve one for your trip. Although all the vloggers I watched advised getting a WiFi hotspot online, their words of advice came a few days too late since when I headed to Klook, there were no more units available for the days of our trip. I didn’t think this would be a problem though and assumed that there would be several available at the airport, just like in Korea. But when we had arrived and scoured all the kiosks, they were all sold out because everyone already reserved online days before. Needless to say, navigating a foreign land either without the help of Google Maps at all, or having to stop at a random place, pray that they have free WiFi and get all the directions needed within the 15 minute time limit allotted for non-paying visitors, was one of the most challenging things I’ve ever had to do.

So, there you have it! I hope you enjoyed my posts just as much as I enjoyed putting them together: I’ve made a pact of sorts with myself to strive to be more creative in taking and editing the photos that accompany my words, so I recently availed of the seven-day free trial of VSCO X. Although I must say it was quite time-consuming, I did have fun experimenting with the 130+ filters available for me to choose from. I plan on writing one more blog post before I go back to school on the 21st, so be sure to keep tabs on that!

Wishing you nothing but love and light,

Angel

[lubdubsworld]

Amor Vincit Omnia ( Yoongi/Oc)

Chapter 19

"She wouldn't really do something like that. At the end of the day, Mrs. Min loves her son, I'm sure she was just trying to get him to bend to her will. Yoongi won't stand for that."

Except when he'd gone ahead and married me.

"Okay." I said nervously.

Namjoon squeezed my shoulder in a half-hug.

"don't worry too much about that. If anything, we should be worried about Hye Mi. I saw her outside Yoongi's office tonight. Security didn't let her in of course, but there's something very unstable about her." Jimin said , a hint of nervousness in his voice. Taehyung wrapped an arm around the shorter male's waist, kissing the side of his temple.  Jimin leaned back against his chest at once but still looked a little worried.

"Don't worry, Jiminie. She's not coming anywhere near Yoongi ." He said , voice low and oddly soothing. Jimin seemed to actually relax, physically when Taehyung was around and I found it very endearing.

"It's not that she's crazy or something. She's known him for twenty years now. That kind of attachment isn't going to go away easily." Seokjin said firmly and Hobi rolled his eyes.

"Don't defend her after what she did..." He snapped and Seokjin rolled his eyes.

"I'm not defending her. i just..."

"She's never really loved Yoongi. She only loves what he stands for. Power and wealth." Jung Kook said furiously and Seokjin looked like he regretted opening his mouth.

"Please. I just.. I don't want her to be hurt either..."

They all turned to me in unison.

"How can you even say that after she.." Namjoon started but Seokjin clamped a hand on his mouth.

"Namjoon stop. " Hobi hissed.

"I know you think she's harmless, Ji soo, but the truth is she's both heartless as well as obsessed. it's a dangerous combination." Jimin said , looking disgusted.

The door to the private lounge swung open and Yoongi came in, taking off his jacket and loosening his tie. He stopped when he saw me, gave me a brief smile before making his way over and lightly patting my shoulder.

"What are you doing here? I dropped by the studio..." He said.

"I had no classes today. The kids are on vacation. Jimin picked me up." I smiled back and he gave me a searching look.

"You're okay? " He whispered, for my ears only.

"Fine." I whispered back and he smiled again before moving away. He took the couch next to Jung kook who promptly dropped into his lap, feigning exhaustion.

"Hyung, you've become a softie these days. " He whined and Yoongi gave him a casual push, till he toppled onto the carpet.

"Did you talk to Hye Mi? Tell her to stay away..." Namjoon said bluntly and Yoongi glanced at me at once. That little glance bothered me a bit. Was he wary of me being there.?

"Hye Mi will get over it. She's just a little distraught. I'm sure we don't have to go over board..."

"I told her to stay the fuck away from me. If she's foolish enough to ignore my warning, she can damn well face the consequences. That's it. End of discussion. " Yoongi snapped.

There was silence for a minute and then they all started talking again, on different topic, Hye Mi seemingly forgotten at once.

I watched them for sometime, feeling a little unsettled. They seemed to be okay now, but Jimin's words scared me considerably. Was Hye Mi unstable? She hadn't seemed that way ...

"What's wrong?" Yoongi's voice next to me , made me jump . I hadn't noticed that he'd come over to my side. I looked up at him and there was a slight frown marring his face. i immediately relaxed my face into a smile and squeezed the hand on my shoulder.

"I'm okay. Just thinking." I said . He held a hand out, promting me to stand up. I followed him as he led me over to a secluded alcove in the lounge, with a small couch and at hearing distance from the others. I settled on the couch and he perched on the armrest, legs crossed casually as he leaned back . It was oddly soothing having him at armlength. He draped an arm around my shoulder and gave a little squeeze.

"You want to talk about it?" He said quietly.

"I..just.. Hye Mi..." I said helplessly.

He hesitated before shrugging.

"It would be foolish to think she's harmless. She's intelligent and like Namjoon said my mother isn't likely to actually take her side against me. She's sure to have other tricks up her sleeve if she's actually trying something. You don't have to worry too much. I'm keeping a close eye on her. She's not going to be able to do anything."

"I just want you to be safe." I said softly. He smiled and nodded. Reached out and gently linked our fingers together.

"I'll be fine. We should do something fun, sometime. Take our minds off all this drama. " He said seriously.

Before i could reply , Jung Kook called out from the other side of the room.

"Are you guys going to start making out? That kind of fun had better be private." He shouted. Yoongi rolled his eyes.

"Shut up, brat." He said , smiling levelly.

"Which reminds me. Hyung, I've got my dance school's showcase coming up. I was wondering if Ji Soo would like to partner up with me?" He said with a smile.

“I’d like that.” I said with a smile when at the exact same moment Yoongi let out a vehement. “No. find someone else.”

Jung kook looked from me to him, apparently uncomfortable and I gave Yoongi a curious glance.

“It’s just a dance, right?” I said hesitantly.

“Like hell it is. All the worst men of Seoul gather around to ogle scantily clad women who flaunt their bodies on a stage. I’ll be damned if I let you prance around like that.” He snapped.

Jung Kook spluttered indignantly.

“Hyung, that’s unfair! Dancing is an art form, I don’t…”

“No means No, Jung kook. Find someone else.” Yoongi said shortly and Jung Kook gave me a pleading look.

“Come on, Yoongi…It’ll be just me and him right...?” I said gently and he gave me a withering stare.

“Are you honestly into walking around naked in front of a bunch of lecherous old men? If that’s your thing, you can go right ahead and join that strip club he calls a dance studio.” He snapped.

“Yoongi, be nice.” Seokjin said warningly and Jung Kook stood up furiously.

“You know what, you don’t own her. If she wants to dance, she can damn well dance. Right, Ji Soo?” He turned to me with his eyes flashing and I blinked in surprise. How on earth had I got in the middle of these two? I wasn’t that into dancing. Had only even mentioned it because of idle curiosity.

But Jung Kook was right, Yoongi didn’t own me. If I wanted to, I ought to be able to dance.

“I think I can try. Just to see if I’m comfortable with it.” I said, watching Yoongi carefully. He glared at me so fiercely, I wanted to take a few steps back.

“I can’t believe you… The last time you got up on a stage in front of people , you almost had a heart attack. Now you want to go dance?” He said, tone coated with disbelief.

"I'm not saying I'll go ahead and do it, Yoongi. It just seemed like fun. I want to try... what can possibly be wrong with trying?" I argued. He rolled his eyes.

" If you're not ready to listen to sense, fine. I'm not going to waste my time talking about this. I'm not turning up at that thing as well. You'll be on your own.  Don't come crying to me when something goes wrong." He said furiously, before getting up from near me and stalking out of the room. I stared after him in defeat. Yoongi was still the incredibly unreasonable man I'd married apparently.

Jimin waited a full minute before giving Taehyung a light grin.

"You were right TaeTae. It's always better to work out differences in the bedroom." He leered. Taehyung gave a surprised chuckle while Namjoon glared at the pair.

"Oh my God. that's disgusting..." Hobi kicked Jimin .

I wasn't paying attention though, already wondering why it was so hard to keep the peace with my supposed love interest.

~~~~~~

"Hold your arms out, straight out in front, wrists firm, drop your palms and rotate your neck, 360 degrees. " Jung Kook said and I followed accurately, my neck cricking a bit. The move was very sensual, my hair falling around me like a silk curtain of sorts. He'd insisted that my hair looked better left loose.

"Hands on either side of your waist, trace an eight with your hip, that's right. "

Despite the slightly risque choreo, I enjoyed dancing with Jung Kook , who was a phenomenal dancer. But a part of me still stung with the strong rejection that Yoongi had shown the previous day. It really didn't make sense to me. Sure, he was a bit possessive but Jung kook had told me that there would be less than fifty guests, all of them very close friends and most of them decent guys. Friends of Yoongi's for that matter. But I knew that other than the six of them, yoongi didn't view anyone as a friend.

"I'm having fun, Jung Kook. Thank you for that." I said after he switched off the music and gave me a smile.

"Well, you're a natural so I should be the one thanking you. Even so, it was nice that you stood up to Yoongi. He should understand that he can't brow beat you around."

I smiled uncomfortably.

"He doesn't usually. I actually don't know why he's so upset over it." i frowned.

Jung kook shrugged.

"He's fiercely possesive. And protectiove and headstrong. it's a horrible combination of traits. I think it's lucky he met someone like you. I mean, not that you're easily bullied or anything, but you seem like the kind of giel who wouldn't go up against him for every little thing. You let him have his way often and that makes a difference, He knows he can trust you and he lets you make the decisions sometimes. I'm sure it'll get better as you guys get to know each other." Jung Kook grinned.

I stared at him.

"It's funny. Hearing someone talk about him like that. it makes me wonder what anyone would say about me..." I said softly.

"About you?"

"I'm not... I don't think I have any particular trait. Maybe I would have had some, if I'd been allowed to grow up the way i was supposed to. Most of the time though, I'd just suppress whatever I felt and do what was required. I think I'm still like that. even yesterday, I wanted to immediately tell you that I didn't want to do this thing with the dance, because Yoongi looked upset. " I said with a sigh.

Jung Kook reached out and squeezed my wrist.

"You should talk to Yoongi about this. It won't help if he's so headstrong all the time. You should learn to live your life and he should learn how to let go sometimes. "

I didn't respond.

But deep down I knew he was right.

~~~~~~~~~~

"Are you angry?" Yoongi said gruffly, offering me a one armed hug and thrusting a bouquet of what looked like a gazillion roses into my hand. I blinked and smiled, shaking my head as I let him into the studio. It was a little past nine and Jung Kook had just dropped me off at the studio.

"No, I'm not angry. But at least you know I have the right to be." I said primly and he ducked his head, looking a little embarrassed.

"I know I must have looked like a bastard, yelling at you like that in front of the guys..."

I shrugged.

"You've said worse. " I reminded him and he looked stricken.

"I'm trying to apologize. You should stop making me feel like trash." He said petulantly.

I couldn't help it, I laughed.

"Apology accepted. I'm surprised you decided to apologize actually."

Yoongi shrugged.

"I promised you I'll try to do the right thing when it comes to our relationship. i know I'm bad at this stuff but I'm willing to learn.  I talked to Seokjin hyung and Namjoon and they explained it to me. We're in this together right? " He smiled.

I nodded.

" Good. I just... I know the kind of things the guys talk about when they see women dancing. I've been like that too. I just didn't want anyone talking about you like that." He said softly.

"That's very sweet of you. Would you like to sit down, I just made some dukbokki" I said.

He followed me to the kitchen and told me a bit about his day.

"There's a bunch of projects I'm trying to get approved. They involve some of the estates that Seokjin's endorsing but the whole thing is being held up because of some problem with the planning committee." He was saying. I hummed periodically, moving around and getting our dinner trays ready. I didn't know a lot about Yoongi's business but he seemed to like talking to me about eevrything and I enjoyed listening to his voice. So it was a win-win really.

Once we sat down to dinner he reached out and kissed my cheeks.

"I'd like for us to get married agin...someday." He said softly. I froze in place, mildly stunned, heart pounding.

He grinned.

"Do you really want us to live in sin?" He winked.

"We're not living together..." I reminded him. Or sinning. Definitely no sinning involved.

Yoongi shrugged.

"We could. I was actually thinking of moving in here with you. For safety's sake. I'm not very happy about you staying here by yourself. "

I stared at him, aware of a very pervasive heat spreading through my body.

"Yoongi..." My voice came out scratchy and his gaze softened.

"This isn't a proposition Ji Soo... I can sleep on the couch..." He said gently. But a naughty smile played around his mouth. " unless you invite me into your bed. Which is also totally cool."

I smiled and shook my head. There was something very endearing about him, i realized. Very sincere and honest. Yoongi would always be true to himself and loyal to me. I just knew it. He didn't have it in him to hide who he was and I loved that so much.

"I'd like to marry you too, someday." I said quietly.

He reached out and grabbed my wrist, kissing the soft skin on the inside lightly.

"Thank you. I know I'm not.... the best choice for a husband . I mean, i know I'm a lot to put up with. Thank you for not kicking me to the curb." He grinned but there was a note of genuine gratitude there that made my eyes sting.

When dinner was done,  I slowly brought up a subject that had bothering me a lot. I had been almost a month since we'd started seeing each other and other than the occasional kiss , he stayed away from me. I didn't know if he wasn't interested or if he thought I wasn't. it didn't help that I tended to pretty much freeze up , heart pounding when he stepped a bit too close. It was becoming worse, the more i got to know him. It seemed the more I fell in love with him, the more shy I was becoming.

"We can... You could.. I mean I wouldn't mind if you... you know tried to..."

I sounded like a train wreck in slow-motion.

Yoongi gave me a look that clearly said.' What the hell is wrong with your ability to talk?'  

"We could kiss.." I blurted out and He blinked in confusion.

"Wow. Okay. " He laughed . " Come here then."

He patted his lap of all things and I had the sudden burning desire to run as fast as i could. i imagined actually going over and lowering myself down on him and...no.

I would expire on the spot. I backtracked furiously.

"Actually, " I said, heart pounding in my throat. " I changed my mind. You should go."

"Come here." He narrowed his gaze and my pulse actually sped up even more.

I was going to die. Oh, God i was going to die.

"No.. No.. really.. it's stupid.." I stood up taking a few steps back and he sighed and stretched fingers linked together and arm raised over his head . He rolled his shoulders as though he was getting ready to destroy something.

"I said.. Come here." He stood up slowly and I stumbled back till I hit the wall. Without thinking i dived for the door leading to the office but he was quicker, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me flush against the warmth of his shirt. He smelled like heaven. Day long cologne and the smell of a hard-working male . I whimpered when he pressed me against the wall, hips anchoring me to the hard surface.

"What's scaring you? it's just me right... Do i frighten you?" He whispered.

Yes.

"No. I just... I don't ..." I was completely at a loss for words. There were so many things going through my head right now and not even one thing worth articulating out loud without sounding like a complete loon.

"Easy.. i just want to hold you... " He whispered, reaching out carefully and framing the side of my face with his hand.

"Yoongi.." I breathed out, terrified that he would kiss me. Terrified that he wouldn't.

"You're beautiful. You know I'll never hurt you right? " He said, kissing the corner of my mouth and pulling back, looking concerned.

I nodded quickly.

"Of course..I just...It's all so very new to me..." I said helplessly. He smiled.

"And I love that. I love that I'm the only one who gets to teach you this. Teach you everything." He smiled and captured my lips with his.

As easily as always, he turned my body to mush in his hands. I melted into his embrace, his kiss drugging me completely. The sweet sweet taste filling my senses, even as his fingers slipped through my thick hair, lightly tracing circles on the back of my head, making my entire body sing with pleasure. He flicked my tongue with his, playfully tugging on my lips. I groaned when his tongue pushed in, tasting licking and making me crave more, more, more.

I jumped a little when his fingers lightly slipped down,. to the waistband of my skirt and tugged my blouse up a little. He slipped a finger in and for a few seconds, he just let his palms rest there, on the soft skin just above my waist to the left of my belly button, forefinger tracing soft little circle with the daintiest of touches. Feather light and so soft, barely there but completely breathtaking. My legs trembled a little and he pulled away.

"Do you want me to stop? " He smiled.

I shook my head.

"Not now. But.. I mean.. we can a do a little more but I'm not.. i don't know if I want to go all the way.." I blushed a bright tomato red but he gave me a very serious nod.

"anytime you say me to pause or stop. I'll stop. " He said briskly.

I nodded.

"Okay. Okay."

"Good. Can i kiss you again?" He winked.

Winked.

I melted.

"Yes.. please. " I cringed at how needy i sounded but he didn't seem to mind.

His lips closed over me again and this time I tried kissing him back, tried doing the same things he'd done to me and I must have done it right because he moaned against my lips. I lightly bit his lips, tried to push my tongue in but his was stronger and for a few minutes I just clutched at him wildly, trying to win against his agile tongue and finally sinking back in defeat. He chuckled into the kiss and then relaxed, let me lead, let me slowly explore the depths of his mouth , lightly tasting him, the rough ridges on his tongue.

He kissed me deeper and the languid motion of his lips, coincided with the lazy stroke of his fingers on my skin, moving up gently, tracing my ribs and then, finally, finally touching the edge of my breasts. He didn't touch me or even cup me or try to slip his fingers inside my bra. Instead he just pressed his palm against my heart, feeling the thud of my pulse against his skin and the last defences inside me just crumbled.

Suddenly I knew without a modicum of doubt that I was in love with this man and would be in love with him for the rest of my life.

There would be no one else.

Ever.

It started as a sort of fire inside me, licking its way upward till it consumed me. This burning, maddening desire that blotted out everything else leaving only a desperate aching want to hold him close to my heart, close to my body, inside me around me.

I burn for you.

"Take me to bed."  I said without thinking, not even hesitating. He looked stunned.

"Ji Soo.."

"No. I mean it. I want to do this.. I.. I want to be.. with you. Like that. I want to be yours. In every way.." I clutched at him rather desperately and he pulled me close, wrapping an arm around me and gently hugging me.

"Shush.. You're mine. Of course you're mine.. We don't have to have sex for that to be true angel.. "

"Yoongi...I.. you told me.. that .. that you burn for me.. Now I know what that means..I burn for you too...  Just.. Take me to bed, please..."

He hugged me, kissed my hair, the edge of my jaw and the curve of my neck.

"Okay...Okay... sweetheart. But you know you can tell me to stop right.. Anytime , I hurt you..." He looked uncharacteristically vulnerable as he stared at me and I wanted to kiss him breathless.

"Yes."I said firmly. " I know. And that's precisely why I'm not going to tell you to stop."

I kissed him. He wrapped his hands around my waist and lifted me up before carrying me into the bedroom. Placing me down at the edge of the bed, he moved to the vase where I'd placed the roses.

I watched as he slowly took a handful of the blooms, gathering the petals before sprinkling them on the pristine white sheets. I watched mesmerized as they scattered all over the bed in a fragrant ruby red shower.

It was an oddly romantic gesture, one I'd never expect from someone like Yoongi.

And then something really momentous happened. He looked me in the eye and said very clearly.

"I love you, Ji soo. Will you be mine?" He whispered.

I smiled back like a loon, my face almost splitting in two.

"I already am, Min Yoongi ssi.." 

~~~~~~~~~ 

I woke up with almost every single muscle aching. I blinked a bit, vaguely remembering last night. I grimaced. It had been ....odd. There really was no other word for it. Pain and pleasure, I'd never once realized that the two things could be linked. Or that the brain could oscillate between the two so fast. It had been excruciatingly painful but had felt mindblowingly good as well.

did that make sense?

Sometime during the night, she had kicked the blanket away. I shivered lightly , trying to stare out the window. it was still a little dark, the sky a dull grey, heralding pre-dawn. I stretched a bit, enjoying the way my bones ached and my spine curved off the bed.

"You're cold. Get under the blanket." Yoongi's muffled voice came from underneath the comforter and I smiled at how he sounded, groggy and rough and slightly drunk.

"I like how the cold feels . " I said honestly. I really did. It felt nice, gooseflesh breaking out all over my skin, sending shivers up and down my body.

He looked up over the blanket then, and I felt the familiar pang of amazement at how genuinely beautiful the man was.

"Never mind. I'll warm you myself."

I laughed as he kicked the blanket away and climbed on top of me, straddling my waist and shaping my breasts with warm hands. He kissed the side of my temple, down to my earlobe, lightly suckling on the skin before moving down to the juncture of my neck and shoulders. He had a very different way of kissing, an open-mouthed kiss that left slick wet trails behind as he lightly bit and licked the skin. Yoongi was the exact opposite of what I'd thought he'd be. More gentle, patient exploration than explosive passion. It definitely warmed me, inside and out.

I waited for him to start but true to his word, he just held me, lightly touching me all over, His body pressed close against mine. He was hard and angular in all the places that I was soft and pliant and our bodies fit together like two pieces of the same puzzle. I sighed in genuine contentment , wrapping my arms around his neck and he looked down at me.

"Are you okay.?" He smiled.

I nodded.

"Good."

He kissed me hard and fast, tongue pushing in without preamble and fingers fluttering down to grab the back of my thigh, prompting me to open my legs up till he could fit in between, the hard press of his arousal against my stomach making me bite my lips .

He slipped two fingers inside me , facing no resistance at all and I fell back against the pillows , stunned at how sensitive I was. there was no pain now. Just mindblowing pleasure that spread throughout my body like wildfire. He kissed my eyelids and pulled back. His fingers slipped out of me as well and I felt bereft and empty, my hips chasing his hand and begging for more. But he didn't touch me, instead kissing the hollow of my neck, down to the valley between my breasts.

When he pushed into me, I saw stars. I felt grounded, steadied and anchored to reality as he moved inside me, hard strong and just so... real. His movements were, slow controlled and downright lazy. I enjoyed the gentle rocking motion of his hips against mine, the weight of his body pressing me into the bed, the little stubble from his chin rubbing against the skin of my cheek. He made little noises of pleasure against my ears and I filed them away in memory. Yoongi sounded so arousing, his voice shaky and husky as he slid in and out of me.

Then he pulled out and lightly kissed me.

"Turn over."

I blinked but obediently, turned around turning my face a bit till my cheek was pressed into the pillow. He covered my back with his chest and the warmth of his body churned my insides. I whimpered, when he lightly lifted my hips, nudged my thighs apart and slid in from behind, the new angle making my body seize up in pleasure. His entire weight pressed into me and I could barely breathe but I loved it so much. The heaviness of his body on mine, the way he rained kisses across my back while his hips snapped forward ruthlessly. The gentleness of his mouth and lips on my neck and shoulders at sharp contrast with how fast he was rocking into me.

My world exploded without warning and I sobbed a little as he pressed down harder, all hard angles and brute force.

When it was done, he pulled the blanket over both of us and spooned me from the back.

"We need a proper honeymoon." He said, voice already tinged with sleep.

"I agree." I kissed the arm lay casually across my shoulder, fingers lightly brushing back and forth against my nipple.

"I love you." I said impulsively and he grunted.

Laughing, I turned and went back to sleep.

We spent the rest of the week away from each other, because Yoongi had an important business deal that required him to be in the office twenty four seven. The showcase for Jung kook's studio went well and unfortunately Yoongi couldn't attend. but I had fun and later we all went out for dinner. I missed Yoongi of course, but I understood now what Jung Kook meant about me living my own life. I loved Yoongi and he was an important, perhaps the most important part of my life. But he wasn't the only thing either. I had other interests. Things that I liked and enjoyed . Things that defined me.

The children came back from vacation and as September faded into the bleak, cold and wet months of October, I started feeling a lot like a different human being.

a real person.

I could make decisions. I could make mistakes.

I could finally live.

One evening, Yoongi and I lay nestled on a bunch of pillows on the living space of his penthouse when he lightly kissed my hand.

"Should we get married?" He said suddenly and I hesitated.

"Now?" It was hardly a question. We were almost married, in every sense of the word. We spent most of our days and nights together.

"I was thinking sometime around Christmas? I spoke to my mother and father and they want me to make a public announcement soon. My mum in particular refuses to believe that you won't leave me hanging again." He rolled his eyes.

"Ommonim must have been very hurt..." I said apologetically and he shrugged.

"She's old fashioned that way. Doesn't matter. I'm glad we went through with the divorce. I like the idea of us starting again. With a real marriage."

I nodded.

"And what about Hye Mi?" I Said hesitantly.

He looked a little upset.

"She attempted suicide a few days back. I wasn't planning on telling you, but I guess... it's best if you know." He said.

I stared at him in distress. There was genuine sadness in his gaze and I understood. Hye Mi may have made bad decisions but she had been in love with Yoongi for a long time. And in his own way Yoongi had cared for her.

"And?" I prompted.

"I spoke to her parents in the US. They've agreed to take her back home. She needs help. " He looked a little guilty and I hugged him tightly.

"I'm sorry." I said honestly.

"Don't be. Whatever we went through , I... I never led her on. I was very clear about how I felt about her. If she'd...If she'd talked to me about it, tried to understand I would have helped her. I don't approve of her coming after my friends . "

I nodded.

"I've been thinking... Maybe it's time to stop with BTS>" He said gently.

I stared at him in surprise.

"Yoongi..."

"When I first started having feelings for you, one of my beiggest fears was that you would ask me to stop with all that stuff. But you didn't You never did and well, I love that about you. You've never tried to tell me what to do or how to do it. It's something a guy like me doesn't get that often you know, unconditional acceptance. I think, that makes it more important for me to do this. I've spoken to the guys about this and they agree as well. I mean...of course , I can't just drop everything but I'd like to withdraw myself. Not get involved unnecessarily. I want to keep you safe."

I nodded, mutely.

"I want us to start a family someday. And well, it won't help if the father's always getting shot at. We'll still need a lot of protection and security but I think I would feel better if I don't hang a target on your head with my actions." He stroked the back of my head and I nodded again.

"I'm happy you feel that way. " I smiled.

He shrugged.

"So what do you say?"

"What?"

"Will you marry me?"

I blinked when he stood up suddenly and sank to one knee in front of me. I was on the floor in frot of him and so it was all so ridiculous.

Until he pulled out a small box and held it open.

I stared at the small platinum chain there, and pulled it out gently. It was a little black casing with a grain of rice inside. On it inscribed beautifully Till death do us part.

"Yoongi..."

"I had it made, that night at the charity ball... I thought it was fate...the fact that we made ones for each other...." He gently pulled the chain around his neck, which held the similar one I'd given him.

"So.. what do you say?" He smiled.

"Of course I'll marry you..." I smiled happily, throwing my arms around his neck and tackling him to the floor.

This was it, I though, as he pressed me into the cushion and kissed me breathless.

This was my prince charming.

This was my happy ending.

And the little frightened girl inside me, the one who had spent the best part of her life being beaten, abused , hurt and crying,  finally smiled.

Epilogue.

We got married last Winter.

In life, you get handed some things by default. Like family . Parents. Your status in life.

But some things you get the opportunity to shape and form.

Love. Career . Your own family.

some people cling to the things they can't change, ignoring the ones they can. While others learn to let go of the things they can't change and focus on what they can.

When I think of all the things Yoongi and I have gone through, I feel certain that the secret to our relationship is our acceptance of each other. I know that he'll always be a bit possessive. He knows I'll always be a bit of a coward. We've learnt to put up with each other , to ignore those little flaws and focus on the things we love.

He still snaps at me..

Still ignores me sometimes when he's annoyed or thinking of something.

But I don't let it get to me.

It helps that there's always flowers , cuddling and kisses later, once he realizes he's been mean to me.

And he didn't fully leave BTS either. I always knew that was a bit of a bluff. But he didn't put himself in danger either and well, I was grateful for that. Our wedding took place in one of the biggest hotels in Seoul. All six of the guys were best men. I'm pretty certain all the women in the crowd went wild when they showed up in their pure white tuxes.

We honeymooned in New York. It wasn't a very long one. Just ten days, but then I fell in love over a hundred times , over and over again.

"Ji Soo"

I almost knocked over the bowl of kimchi as my husband's panicked voice came across the house.

"What's wrong?" I called out. I hadn't even heard him come in.

"It says here that Oral sex can kill the baby..."

He looked postively green.

I blinked in confusion. And horror. Mostly horror.

"What on earth...?"

I walked over slowly to the couch, when he was sitting, still in his suit and jacket with his phone in one hand while he stared at some website. I was very conscious of the added weight of the baby. At seven months I felt like a small house, waddling around,

"Oh..." I stared at the website where sure enough it warned about Oral sex during pregnancy..." Oh. Well okay. " I smiled.

"But that night we..."

I rolled my eyes.

"That was six months ago. the baby's fine."

"Are you sure?" He pressed both palms against my belly, smoothing over the curve, concentrating on feeling movement. One he got a resounding kick as a response , he relaxed a bit.

"Okay?" I prompted, threading my fingers through his hair while he kissed my stomach.

"Okay..." He said sheepishly.

"You're unbelievable. Now go get washed up... " I tugged on his tie and kissed him soundly.

He moaned into the kiss, gently grabbing the side of my waists and maneuvering me till I was on his lap, awkwardly perched on him.

"That oral thing though... it's okay if it's the other way round...right?" He said hopefully and I laughed in disbelief.

"You're insatiable, Min Yoongi ssi. Now go change fast... Dinner's getting cold." I climbed off him and he pouted before letting me go.

"I love you, babe." HE called out, once I went back into the kitchen.

"I love you too..." I called out.

And I did.

With all my heart and soul.

For better or for Worse.

Till death do us part.

The end

AUTHOR’S NOTE : Is that enough fluff? did you cringe as much as I did!! lol... Thank you for reading... Be sure to reblog and let me know what you thought!! :) 

[jos-corner-of-the-world]

Unexpected -  Min Yoongi

You were walking down the street, one hand had your cellphone planted firmly to your ear, the other was rummaging in your purse, all while simultaneously holding your coffee in the crook of your elbow. 

Your day had not started at all like you had planned. You had woken up late, and it was all downhill from there.

"Fuck" you swore under her breath, not even remembering what you had needed from your purse in the first place.

"Y/N?" the person on the other end questioned.

"Oh, no, Ms. Williams that was not directed towards you." you said, not even clarifying any further what was happening.

"Honey, for the last time, just call me Clara. I'm going to let you go so you can get to work. Again, today is not a problem at all." Clara said before hanging up the phone.

You hung up the phone and chucked it into your purse. 

You waited at the empty cross walk for traffic to pass through before you crossed the street. You were still getting used to not needing to follow crosswalks lights. The rural Midwest was a far cry from NYC, your hometown.

You were still musing about the differences you were adjusting to when someone slammed into you from the front, consequently spilling hot coffee all down the front of your white dress shirt.

You let out a small cry of pain. Could this day possibly get any fucking worse you thought to yourself.

You got into your purse and got out wipes, trying to soak up what coffee you could.

From beside you, you could hear the quiet voices of whoever had slammed into you. You didn't pay them any attention. You were irrationally angry and didn't want to ruin someone else's day because of your nasty attitude.

"Um, excuse me, Miss?" you heard from beside you. You halted in your movements, recognizing the voice had a very heavy accent and spoke in semi broken English.

You finished wiping off what you could of your shirt and discarded the damp wipes back into your purse. You took a deep breath and looked up at the source of the voice.

Anything you might have said, instantly died in your throat.

"Are you..okay?" The voice asked after a long moment of silence.

"But...you're...why...here?" you said, forgetting how to speak in full sentences. "You hurt?" A different voice asked from the other side. You turned your head and let out an involuntary squeal of excitement. "Yoongi!" you said, finally finding your voice. The owner of the second voice gave you a shy smile, eyes going wide. "Hello." he said back, nodding his head towards you. "Namjoon, Taehyung."

The only thing registering in your brain was three out of the seven members of your favorite group were standing in front of you looking rather sheepish. "You must be a fan?" Namjoon asked you. "Yes!" you said, too loudly. Taehyung clapped loudly, drawing your attention to him. "ARMY!" he yelled towards you, making you smile. "We want to apologize for ruining your shirt. These two were being very impolite and pushing each other around. They, nor I, saw you standing here. We are so very sorry." Namjoon said, bowing slightly in apology. It was then that you realized that you had indeed spilled coffee on your white dress shirt. You blushed profusely and buttoned your suit jacket over the ruined shirt. "It's alright." you heard yourself saying, even though clearly it wasn't. Now you were even more late than you had said you'd be. "It is not alright. Guys, you need to apologize to..." Namjoon said, inviting you to say your name. "Y/N." she replied. "We apologize Y/N. We were being very rude by hitting into you. We are on a sort of vacation and were enjoying how quiet things are here." Tae said, extending his hand to you. "Thank you for the apology, I appreciate it." you said, surprised you could string together so many words in one sentence while shaking his hand. "I hate to ask this, since you are on vacation, but could I get an autograph?" you asked, hating to be rude while they were trying to enjoy themselves. "Yes!" Tae said excitedly. "That would not be a problem at all." Namjoon said, taking the pad of paper you had extended to him. "To you?" He asked, clarifying that it was for you. "Could you make it out to Lily?" you asked, thinking of how excited she would be to have the autographs. "That is an usual nickname for Y/N" Namjoon said, writing. "Oh, it's not for me. It's for my daughter." you said, smiling fondly at the mention of her. "You have daughter?!" Tae asked, sounding surprised. "You so young!" he continued. "Taehyung, it is improper to make such statements to a young woman." Namjoon said, berating his friend. Taehyung bowed his head, but not before you saw the flash of shame that had passed his face. You was sure if you hadn't have controlled it quickly, your face would have held almost the same look of shame as Tae's. You weren't ashamed of her daughter, just how her daughter came to be. "You're correct, though, I am young. Actually Taehyung, we are the same age, 21." you said, offering him a kind smile. Turning to Yoongi, who had been quiet through this whole exchange, you continued speaking. "She's almost five and I think she's your biggest fan! She sings as many of the lyrics as she can understand and mumbles through what Korean she doesn't. She is constantly trying to emulate your dances, asking me to practice with her for hours a week." "She sounds sweet." Yoongi said, smiling at you. Never in a million years did you think that you would be standing in front of some of the people you respected most in the world. BTS always gave their all to their fans, and never seemed to complain about it. At least, not to the public. They all seemed to genuinely enjoy their lives and how they were progressing as a group. Taehyung had just handed the notepad to Yoongi when your phone rang from the depths of your purse. Realizing where you were, and where you were supposed to be, you hurriedly fished the phone out and answered it. "Hello?" "Y/N, you're now half an hour late. This looks really bad for you. If you can't get here in the next ten minutes, the investors are going to leave." your lawyer said from the other end. "Mr. Johnson, I can't get there in that short of time. Is there anything you can do?" you asked, desperate for the investors not to leave. "I'm sorry Y/N. Once you find new investors, contact me and we'll try again." He said, before hanging up the phone. Tears sprang to your eyes involuntarily. You had waited for this opportunity for two months. You worked hard on finding investors, making charts, doing projections on growth, everything she needed to get help with you drowning business. You had not only moved yourself and your daughter here from NYC, but you moved your business here as well. You had inherited it from a family member and didn't want to lose it now. You were pulled from your sullen thoughts from a worried looking Yoongi. "Are you okay?" He asked you. "Yes, I am. Thank you." you replied, trying to keep your voice from cracking. You just needed to pull it together until you got home, and then you could fall apart. "Thank you so much for signing this for Lily. She's absolutely going to love it. And hey, maybe we'll run into each other again before you leave." You put your hand in your purse and pulled out your wallet. You pulled out a small stack of business cards and handed a few to each of them. "Feel free to stop in and see us sometime. Lily and I are always there, especially summer having just started and she's not in school. Again, it was nice to meet you all." you said, and quickly spun on your heels to go the other way. You could feel herself falling apart, and you refused to do it in front of anyone.

Namjoon, Yoongi, and Taehyung were all standing on the sidewalk, extremely confused at the turn of events. "Do you think we caused that?" Tae asked, feeling sorry for bumping into the woman, and possibly offending her as Namjoon had pointed out. "I don't know. But we should definitely go see her again while we're here. I'm curious." Namjoon said, looking at her business card. Y/N Y/L/N Owner/Instructor Heartbeat House Dance Studio 3764 East Street 318-555-9837

{1.5}