#in the book she is badly hurt and falls down so his last few words are for merry and then a moment

[kashilascorner]

A change the ROTK movie made from the source material that I really like is that Theoden actually speaks his last words to Eowyn and gets to see what she accomplished!!

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

The Bird And The Man

Chapter Five

Rated Explicit | Warnings: None

Ao3

Chapter Four | Chapter Six

You did not go to school early in your life, your mother could not afford it no matter what job she got. She taught you everything about life, words came from going to the library during her breaks or dropping you off there because it was safer there than home alone. Luckily, there were a few other kids and a former teacher who did not mind watching over them so long as they behaved.

That older woman with a British accent taught you the power of the pen. She retired her title but not her skills.

You had structure, you learned, and you grew.

As time passed, you started writing stories when you hit your teenage years, many of them short and simple. Until you read a book named Call Of The Abyss by Orpheus. There were others, so many you have read, but those books drew something within you. Lighting a fire within your soul.

When mother passed and your job as a housekeeper was not making enough to both eat and sleep, you tried something different. Had made a few changes, location is everything. Your first job within your skill level was simply writing down words spoken; following around someone quickly, having a sharp hearing, and you learned shorthand that first week of getting that job.

Ghostwriting happened by chance, someone found a story you wrote (it was just a made-up story about Sherlock Holmes for some kids around the street you lived on). He hired you to write his son's book.

You… Never seen such a large amount of money before.

One book, two books, and a third book.

The contract broke the year your employer's brat decided to write the fourth book that was a failure.

He did not read the outlines you made for each book.

Outline, noun, definition one: a line or set of lines enclosing or indicating the shape of an object in a sketch or diagram. Definition two: a general description or plan giving the essential features of something but not the details. Definition three: give a summary of (something).

The quill writes like any other normal quill, yet, the words you cannot control yourself to write every bit are not normal.

Golden Cave, Lakeside Village.

You are out of breath and stumble backward knocking over your chair as you stare at a mess of papers— Written on these papers are the horrors of the miner and his death.

The quill falls to the floor as you hold your head, the painful memories not your own suddenly gone. It hurts a lot, then it fades until only your mind remains.

When you returned from the match with others, Lucky Guy was waiting in your room. He had given you a letter with the infamous seal on it and simply your name on the envelope. You burned the letter as ordered by Lady Nightingale after reading it…

Next, he asked some questions. All seemed strange yet made sense as you started seeing things— Seeing people you never met around you.

The side effect of Outline, she dubbed it, is you will see these memories until you give them a voice. This voice is your medium: pen and paper.

The ability given to you is based on the many tutorial matches Lady Nightingale made you do. Something unique to you, your edge in the matches but must be used wisely. It only can work twice, once as a ‘freebie’ (Lucky Guy’s words), and only lasts as long as you can handle the damage it inflicts upon your consciousness returning to your body.

This is why you were hurt badly when Orpheus found you. Nothing like a hunter's damage but enough to have left you stumbling.

The knock at your door snaps your thought process, you quickly pick the chair up from the floor and clean up the mess of papers stacking them neatly, you check yourself in the mini mirror and-- Whatever, whoever it is can deal with you not looking your best.

“Hello?” Opening the door slightly to see Orpheus, “Oh, good uh… Evening?” What time is it?

“Good evening, Hypnos.” A pleasant smile on his face, “You weren't at dinner so I thought we could eat together?” Holding two plates of food. “If you are available.”

“Ah, yes, of course. Sorry about the mess. The writing process and all!” Laughing bashfully as you open the door and step aside to let him in.

Your room smells of ink, coffee, papyrus, and incense (a gift from the Priestess to help with stress). “You can eat here.” Adjusting the chair to face the desk, “Thanks, Orpheus.” Taking both plates of food and puts his plate down before sitting on the bed with your plate on your lap.

Orpheus looks different without his usual white suit, this one cuts him to look a bit bigger than how the white suit makes him. The vest, the rolled-up sleeves, the small circular glasses, the dark casual dress pants. His mannerisms are the same as he sits down, the man knows well how to start a conversation.

All after the food is done, the butler delivers a bottle of wine and two glasses, you never turn down a nice glass of wine. Helps with digestion.

“You published your book, congratulations.” Cheers as your glass and his glass touch in toast.

“Yeah, I know not the ideal circumstances but I needed it to be out there in some way!” Taking a sip of the rich red wine, “Edgar did amazing on the cover!”

“He did, you should praise yourself too.” Eyes watching before he drinks too, “It is well written.”

“Did you like it?— Wait, no don't tell! Not sure if my confidence can handle a review from someone I admire.” There's a smirk on his face, one that has you looking away as you drink more of your wine, “Anyway, how about you? Any ideas or drafts?”

He leaned back against the chair with his legs open, a relaxed pose different from how seats, well, anywhere in public. “The fifth book of Call of The Abyss is going well.” Stirring the wine gently with the rotation of his wrist, “The topic was about you, however.”

“Well, I'm not very good at that.” Shrugging, “It's out there and that's it.”

“You did splendidly.”

“Oh, you're just being supportive.”

“Hypnos, repeat after me,” Now leaning forward and his hand on top of your knee, “I did splendidly.” And you are very aware of how beautiful his voice is. Or maybe how stern he can sound that makes you feel warm.

“I… I did splendidly.”

“Yes, you did. I do hope you continue to write more.” Getting up from the chair, you do know why you miss the warmth on your knee, “Thank you for allowing me to keep you company. Rarely do I find such a lovely fellow author to converse with.”

“Yes, yes you too!” Oh, wow, you are screaming inside. “Goodnight, Orpheus.”

“Rest well, Hypnos.” He leaves with a glass of wine in his hand, “Enjoy the wine. You earned it.”

Christmas events are not really your thing. Maybe because most of your childhood Christmas was either you alone with a book or your mother finding ways to keep you both warm. It is strange though, a comfort you did not expect from the after-effects of Outline ability: Norton understands this. The part of being poor with almost nothing to your name. 

You do not talk about what you saw, the quill felt invasive and you rather not scare anyone about the ability. Still, at least you know someone understands why you do not participate.

Though you may not take part in the festivities, you have to dress up per Lady Nightingale's request (order). So here you are dressed like Jack Frost. Blue tailcoat suit with snowflake accents, sparkling white shoes, white gloves, and mini top hair clipped to your hair. Blue eyeshadow, eyeliner, lipstick, white freckles with glitter; the woman is very much into details.

It is very over the top.

Before the musically talented survivors and hunters get together to perform, you slip away to take a breather. It can be overwhelming when you see the survivors and some hunters attempt to enjoy themselves. Not everyone here is a monster, they are all actors in a play with no ending.

Depressing to consider but it is a reality you know others have accepted.

The place you call Elysium is beautiful. The fresh snow, the barren tree decorated with snow, the few birds chirping away. Sadly, your paradise is fucking cold! “Tsk.” Annoyed but you smile at the beautiful scenery. “Edgar would like this.” Looking around then your smile grows big seeing the familiar large creature you adore. “Orpheus!” The bird rather than the man approaches you.

Fluffy and doting, you nuzzle the beak part of his mask. Your hand holds his face in place as you cover him in kisses, and most of your blue lipstick. “I missed you.” Because you do and the few chances you are together with him it is always moments you savor.

“Miss. You.” Softly spoken though you wish he wouldn’t hurt himself doing that. His hands hold you by your waist, his head on your shoulders, he is a peace around you. Physical touching is your love language, well, you have many ways to express your love but with him, you find touching him is important to both of you. Maybe he feels like a monster, and he looks like a monster, but you know he is not. It is a feeling and the reason you trusted in that allowed you to become close to him.

The sound of Christmas music echoes throughout the manor, he guides your hand onto his shoulder and the other to hold his hand. You giggle as he guides you into a slow swaying motion, his foot going back on step and you take one step forward.

It is like a dream, the one you see in those silent movies, both of you are quiet as there are no words needed. 

[princesspastel8]

Chapter 39

Third POV

It's Monday. The beginning of the week. Most are optimistic, hoping the week would be better than the last. Not Eboni, though. She wishes for the weekend to return so she can spend her days in her bed doing absolutely nothing.

After everything that took place, Eboni blocked Taylor on everything - heart heavy as she did so. Eboni was also informed by Tiffany that they'll be returning today later in the evening. The teen is thankful towards Luna and Iris for cleaning up her room. She didn't want her foster parents to question why her room was a complete mess. But she would have to make up some lie for why most of her favorite belongs got destroyed.

Eboni is riding to school on her rollerblades, dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants. Once there, she puts her hood over her head, desperate to go unnoticed by a certain guy. She quickly grabs the books needed for her first three classes and changes her shoes, stuffing her rollerblades into her locker. When Eboni goes to shut her locker, a hand appears above her - pressing the locker shut.

Her body tenses, knowing exactly who's behind her base on the feeling of his body pressed against hers. The male stares down at the teen with unblinking eyes, drinking in her appearance. The blonde grins, leaving down to whisper in her ear.

"Hey, Ebs. I missed you. How come you haven't replied to my message?", Alex questions.

Eboni doesn't answer, her body freezing. No matter how much she pleases for her body to move him away, it won't comply. Alex frowns, pressing his body against her much rougher - causing Eboni's body to be pressed against the lockers.

"Ebs. I asked you a question, I don't like getting ignored - you know that better than anyone. Remember the tantrums I would do if you weren't giving me enough attention?"

"Th-Those tantrums..g-got you beatings." Eboni stutters out, malice laced in each word.

"But it was wooooorth it! Wanna know why? Because you'd always come to my rescue and give me the attention I wanted all along." Alex giggles.

"Y... You sick f -"

Alex moves to grab Eboni's hair, a few students watching the interaction, but thought nothing of it. His smile stretches, grip tightening. "Me? Sick? My love for you is sick, Ebs? That's soooo mean! Any idea how I felt when I went back to my room and you were gone? The abandonment - the rejection you forced upon me? And how you didn't respond to none of my messages - not a single one. That hurt me so... so badly, Eboni. But it's ok! I forgive you!"

Eboni's heartrate spikes. She has the power to shove him away, but she can't. Her body is frozen in place - breath hitch once he presses himself fully against her. He plants kisses against her neck, and she feels his length grow hard.

"Fuck Ebs. I want you right here, right now."

That was enough to snap Eboni out of her fear stricken state. "NO!" She screams, elbowing him in his stomach and pushes him away - her body falling against the lockers as she pants heavily.

Alex's eyes narrow, close to hitting the girl again until he notices the crowd. So he smiles, lowering himself down and holding his hand out. "My bad, Ebs, I forgot how scared you are of bugs. I was joking! There wasn't a spider on your shoulder." He laughs, rubbing the back of his neck.

Eboni's eyes dart around her, judgemental and questioning stare back at her. She looks at his hand, slowly shaking her head. She's so close to screaming, so close to falling apart right then and there.

"E-Eboni...h-here I'll help you up." Iris said softly, ignoring Alex while gently helping the teen up from the floor.

Alex watches with that fake blinding smile, nodding his head. "Oh! You're the girl that's always around Taylor. She never introduced us! I'm Al-"

"I-I know who you a-are." Iris stutters, bringing Eboni close and taking her hands into her shaky ones. "A-And I would appreciate th-that you stay away f-from my friend. S-She's uncomfortable a-around you."

"Really? Uncomfortable? Why is that?" Alex questions, playing coy.

This truly shakes Eboni to her core, "Because y-"

"She thinks ya raped ha!- can ya believe it?" Taylor joins in, taking Alex side.

Alex eyes widen only slightly, glancing around at the crowd. Most didn't believe what was said. Others look doubtful. The blonde laughs, shaking his head. "Really? I mean, we had a few drinks and had a little fun. Nothing to wild though - right, Ebs? I'd never do anything you weren't begging for."

Eboni didn't say anything. She keeps her head low, clinging onto Iris for dear life. Taylor didn't like that at all. "He takin' ta ya Ebs. Can't ya hear?"

Iris glares at Taylor, her heart aching at the way her former dear friend is acting. "St-Stop it, Taylor. This is p-pathetic even f-for you.." the goth states boldly. "Let's g-go Eboni."

"Never took you as a fearless type, Iris. That's kinda cute. But I'll see you around Ebs!" Alex said, leaning down to kiss her cheek and whisper in her ear. "Behind the school near the dumpsters. Don't show up, and our night of fun will be displayed throughout the whole school - got it?"

Eboni nods reluctantly, breath caught in her throat. Alex smiles, leaning away, and walks off to his first class with Taylor right behind him. Eboni watches with widen eyes, knees giving way - the girl falling to the ground. Iris is by her side, trying to help her up, but Eboni doesn't budge. Her life hasn't come to this... right?

The rest of the day went by rather quickly. Eboni's mind wasn't present for most of it, dozing off in class and zoning out - trying to distract herself from her meeting with Alex. She would've said no if he didn't insinuate having possible pictures and videos of what took place in his bedroom. She wants to feel doubtful, but at this point, he seems crazy enough to do something like that.

At the final bell, Eboni rushes to the back of the school , wanting this meeting to end quickly. She sees Alex leaning against the brick wall. The blonde turns his head, smiling happily at Eboni. He meets her halfway, his smile hiding the horrors about to leave his lips.

"Be my girlfriend."

Eboni blinks, backing away a bit. "Wh-What?"

"You heard me, Ebs. I don't like repeating myself." He scoffs, rolling his eyes. "Come on. Just be mine."

Eboni is petrified. She can't be Alex's. She wants nothing to do with the man who raped her. She belongs to Jeff. Her mind, body, soul - everything belongs to Jeff. Her physic won't allow her to think otherwise, let alone consider anyone else to fill Jeff's place. That's just not possible, so in response, she shakes her head.

Alex raises a brow, pouting his lips. "Does that killer have that strong of a hold on you? Come on, Ebs, I'm so much better."

"Why would I want to be with the guy that drugged and RAPED ME!?" she screams.

Alex grabs Eboni, slamming her body against the brink wall, and places his hand over her mouth. "Tsk Tsk tsk. I didn't rape you, Ebs. I displayed my feelings in a more intimate way. Can't you accept it?"

Eboni shakes her head, struggling to leave Alex's hold. Her body suddenly feels so weak. His grip tightens, his frown deep and eyes cold. "I didn't want to resort to option two." He sighs, reaching into his pocket and pulls out his phone. He goes to his gallery and clicks on a video, his moans coming from the speaker.

He shows the video to Eboni, smiling sickly. "See this, Ebs? It's US! Though you can't really see my face - everyone can see yours. Ahhh~ just watching this makes me hard! Anyways, be my girl, or I'll leak this video all over school - or better yet, on the internet! It's your choice." He hums, pulling away from her.

Eboni slides down the wall, breathing heavily as the reality of the situation sets in. Her only - only hope is for Jeff to somehow get rid of Alex while invading suspicion from the police. With that in mind, the teen stands to her feet, looking at Alex with all the courage she can muster.

"Y-Yeah... Yeah, fine.." she said, voice shaky.

Alex beams, scooping Eboni into a tight hug and showering her face with kisses that make the girl cringe. "Aaahh!! Finally! You're finally mine, Ebs! I've been waiting years for this!" He pulls away, checking his phone for the time. "Shit! Late for practice! I'll see you tomorrow, Ebs!" He cheers, kissing her cheek and waving - skipping away

Eboni feels the disgust settle in, causing her stomach to bubble. She leans forward and vomits. She heaves, quickly slipping on her rollerblades and rushes back home, fighting back tears and more bile raising in her throat.

Once home, she yanks her rollerblades off, rushing past her foster parents and into the guest bathroom and throws up again into the toilet - throat burning and mind buzzing. Tiffany rushes to her side, trying to help the girl from the floor. Eboni moves to sit on the toilet after flushing it, staring down at the white tile floor.

"Oh my goodness, Eboni! What's happening, dear?" Tiffany questions with Daniel leaning against the doorframe.

Eboni is torn. Should she tell them? They're rich, one of the richest in town. They'll have the money to hire the best lawyer. Sure, Eboni would have to go through the publicity she wants to avoid - but at least she would finally be away from him. That seems the more reasonable route than having Jeff kill him.

She looks at Tiffany, forcing herself to speak through her burning throat. "I...I-I was raped.." she whispers, but Tiffany caught on.

She gasped, moving closer to Eboni, pushing the hair out of her face. "By who Eboni? Tell us, and we'll handle it."

"Alex...Alexander Willson."

Both parents' eyes widen before they become lace with uncertainty. Tiffany backs away, straightening herself up. "Oh...well dear, tell us the full story."

Eboni explains every detail from beginning to end, not leaving anything out, except for Jeff. The parents share a look, Daniel quick to take his leave back into the living room. Tiffany sighs, placing her hands on the girl's cheek. She smiles warmly, but her words bring a dagger through Eboni's heart.

"Are you sure dear? It seems like both of you had drinks, and you just had more than you can handle. Even if we go to the police, not much could be done. So maybe....its not as bad as you made it out to be? Just had a few drinks to many, and you got carried away. That's all right?"

Eboni stares at Tiffany, the hope she had in her foster parents fading completely. Of course, they didn't believe her. They don't want to taint their image within the media. They're rich, after all, and everything they do reflects their image - including taking in problem children.

Eboni pulls away, standing from the toilet, and goes to the sink to clean out her mouth. Tiffany watches nervously, moving to place a hand on the teen's shoulder. "I'm making dinner.It'ss almost re-"

Eboni shrugs her hand off, shooting a glare her way. "Not hungry." She growls out, storming past her and into her room.

Eboni slames her bedroom door, locking it as well. She moves to her computer desk, glad to see her laptop isn't damaged. She pulls it out, typing away at Google to find ways to somehow get out of the situation she's in - all pointing to going to the police but that's now out of the question. Her only source of hope is Jeff, who she hasn't heard from all day. She pulls out her phone, refusing to believe that he has abandoned her over something she lost control of.

Eboni: Jeff....he asked me to be his girl. I SAID NO...at first. But..but he has a video. His face isn't in it, but mine is. My foster parents don't believe me, so I can't go to the police....please Jeff, I need you. Please do something..please help me.."

As Eboni types out her message, she notices drops of water land on her phone screen. She touches her face, feeling her soak cheeks. Crying yet again. Eboni sends the text, curling up in her bed and holding her stuffed bunny close. As her tears soak her pillow, she prays for Jeff to reply as soon as possible. Who knows how long she can withstand everything....until she gives up.

Unbeknownst to Eboni, two men watched everything that took place within the home from the windows. One was able to hear the conversation thanks to bugging the house while everyone was away. The man jumps from the window, walking towards the forest where the other man stands waiting.

"H-He should know what's happening." Toby said, a tick affecting his speech.

Hoodie nods, glancing at Eboni's window before the two begin their walk back to the mansion. "That bad?"

Toby nods, placing his hands into his pockets. "Her rapist won't leave her alone. Her incompetent parents don't be-believe her, and well... there's no way for h-her to contact Jeff. Sh-She looks like she'll break any second."

"Mhm.....why inform Jeff of this?" Hoddie ask as they go behind the mansion and open a trap door leading underground.

Toby walks down first while Hoodie closes the door behind them. "To give him a reason to be on his best behavior while he's stuck down here. T-Th-Th-The worse he acts, the longer he's stuck there."

Hoodie nods, walking into the control room station above the white room. Toby slips on the light switch and turns on the controls, live footage showing Jeff still in the straitjacket. The blindfold was removed from his eyes yesterday, but a metal mouth guard is placed on him due to the smiling killer biting anyone that touches him or tries feeding him food. Toby switches on the microphone so Jeff will be able to hear him through the speakers.

"Jeff."

He doesn't respond, eyes cast downward - body hunched over. Toby sighs, pitching the bridge of his nose. "I-Its Toby." Jeff responds with a shrug.

"L-Look, I'm here on E-Eboni's behave - so it's best to l-listen to what I'm about to s-say," Toby said, hoping the girl's name would bring some type of respond.

And it does. Jeff sits up, staring straight into the camera. He doesn't try to stand, but he nods his head, wanting Toby to continue.

"Sl-Slend...Master ordered me to watch her for the rest of the month. It's November, by the way. A-Anyways, I'm not sure why... but that girl looks like she's about to b-break any second. H-Her parents don't believe her. A-And her Rapsit won't l-leave her alone."

Jeff's eyes narrow, forcing himself to stand as he begins shouting through his mouth hard, but everything is muffled. This is what the killer was worried about. He knows his girl - he knows Eboni. There's only so much she can take, so much she can handle. The fact that the boy that hurt her won't leave her alone ignites that white hot fury from before.

"Calm. D-Down." Toby said.

Jeff stares at the camera, wanting so badly to destory it, but he listens - trying to stop his body from shaking. Toby clearly has more to say.

"I-I'm telling you, n-not because I like you i-in any way, but because I-I know how it f-feels..." Toby explains, his ticks getting stronger. "Th-The same happened to m-mine. I w-w-was-not able t-to protect her b-because.....a-anyways just get your sh-shit together so you can help Eboni out of her n-nightmare. I-I'll make sure she doesn't do a-anything rash." With that said, Toby shuts off the speaker, both him and Hoodie leaving the control room.

Jeff sits back down, moving to lay on his back as he stares at the white cushions ceiling. He closes his eyes, taking Toby's words into consideration. As much as he hates to say that ticking freak is right - he is. He should've better controlled himself that day for Eboni's sake, yet he still doesn't regret his actions. Despite this conclusion, he'll follow Toby's advice. Once the smiling killer does, he'll be released and able to, as Toby stated, help Eboni out of her nightmare.

[altschmerzes]

🌹keeley or roys reaction to stuff in the trent crimm article in the same story? (only if you have it and want to!)

absolutely!!! i have some bits from both of those scenes, here we are, it's not the full thing by any means but it's uh. a little chunky anyways :) under the cut-

keeley

Keeley is reduced to tears by the article several times and has to stop reading at a few points, sitting at her desk with her hand over her mouth, eyes too watered over to see. She breathes through it and tries not to picture too much, focusing on the way Jamie had looked the last time she’d seen him downstairs, a little nervous but smiling at her anyway. That’s a much better thing to think of than all the things she could imagine out of the article, the horrible things she knows she’s never going to be able to completely get out of her head. By the time that she finishes reading, Keeley has a dehydration headache throbbing at her temples and her chest feels like someone’s stomped in her ribcage.

But it isn’t just pain. At the same time that the article had hurt so badly to read that there were points where Keeley didn’t know if she would make it all the way through it, she has come away from it so proud of Jamie that she could burst. What he had said about her, and about Roy, about the whole community of people who have banded together around Jamie after everything fell apart under him… Keeley could tell him they were there for him, that they loved him and they were all standing by waiting for him whenever he was ready to let himself need them, she could say all of that and more until the cows came home, but there would always have been a lingering kind of doubt. She doesn’t think that she would have been able to shake the worry that Jamie wasn’t hearing her, or wasn’t understanding what he was hearing.

Seeing it in Jamie’s own words, reproduced by Trent’s faithful hand, means the world to Keeley. Knowing that Jamie knows, that he understands all of that, will repeat it to someone else with this kind of certainty?

I want them to know it’s real. The love that they’ll get from those people is real.

That’s everything.

--

roy

By the time Roy goes back inside the house he’s still having a hard time breathing, but he also feels like if he doesn’t get his eyes on Jamie - whole and safe and in one piece - right fucking now, he might pass out. He stops in the kitchen, standing there and looking into the living room where Jamie is working in that ridiculous puzzle book again, stitch-free forehead wrinkled up in a deep, concentrating frown. Roy feels suddenly and powerfully dizzy. He puts his hands on the counter, bracing himself because he’s a little worried he may up and fall over right on the kitchen floor but he still can’t pull his eyes away from Jamie just yet. The countertop is cold and grounding under his palms and the sight of Jamie makes him feel a little less like he’s about to collapse.

Jamie either hasn’t noticed Roy’s return to the house or he’s pretending not to have noticed, wrapped up in the Sudoku book. Regardless, he seems distracted enough that Roy can just stand there and stare for as long as he wants. It settles him, being able to look at Jamie and see that he is, for a given definition, okay, and so he allows himself to do just that, regardless of how weird it may seem if someone does catch him doing so. After this week, and with the words in that article ricocheting around in his brain, he thinks he’s quite allowed.

When, maybe a minute or so later, Jamie looks over and sees him there, Roy shifts awkwardly. ‘Who cares if I get caught staring’ doesn’t really stand up to… actually being caught staring, and Roy feels his face heat up, though he still can’t bring himself to regret it. There’s a static buzz in his hands, a twitch in his shoulders like there’s something he needs to do, but he just keeps standing there, shifting in place.

Eventually, Jamie rolls his eyes and stands up from the couch, puzzle book left face-down on the cushion. He opens his arms and says, breaking the thick, heavy silence with a very thin kind of mock-annoyance, “Alright, fine, just do it already.”

The relief from the invitation brings the dizziness back, but Roy ignores it. He walks over swiftly and tugs Jamie into a hug. The impact is enough to rock both of them a little but they steady quickly, and Roy holds onto him tight. Worry about hurting him by squeezing him too hard is a distant wisp of a thought compared to the very real memory of Jamie in pain, Roy’s memories from Coventry and everything after it and the addition of Jamie’s own from the article.

But Jamie isn’t in pain right now. He’s warm and solid and breathing in Roy’s arms, his head tucked into the side of Roy’s neck, and he isn’t trembling or crying or bleeding. He’s okay. Roy clasps a hand to the nape of Jamie’s neck and repeats it a few more times. He’s okay. He’s right here and he’s okay.

[foundtherightwords]

The Road Forgotten - Chapter 9

Pairing: Arthur Havisham (Dickensian) x OFC

A/N: I made Arthur bisexual and paired him with a female character in this. I know some writers have gotten flack for pairing Arthur with a female character (or reader), so if it's not your cup of tea, please walk away.

This is mostly based on the events of "Dickensian", but I've also incorporated some elements and characters from "Great Expectations". Most notably, Satis House is in Kent (as in the book) instead of in London.

Summary: A few years after his plan to swindle his sister ended in tragedy, Arthur Havisham is a shadow of a man, living in guilt and fear. When Elsie Bradford, a young woman also wronged by Compeyson, enlists Arthur's help to hunt down his former partner-in-crime, Arthur must face his demons and other strange, new feelings, to redeem himself.

Warnings: slow burn, angst, guilt, revenge, psychological trauma, mention of prostitution, mention of suicide/suicide ideations, some violence, a bit of smut (in this chapter)

Chapter word count: 2.9k

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Elsie had come back to St. Giles almost immediately, but she'd only stopped in the room long enough to grab the pistol and make sure the powder was dry, before retreating to the street corner to wait. She wasn't sure what she would do if Cyclops and the Chimney had captured Arthur and forced the address out of him. She trusted Arthur, but she had also seen what the thugs could do, how they could break men much stronger than Arthur. Or they could have simply followed him. She could take them by surprise, but there were two of them and only one of her, and the pistol would take time to load.  

By the time Arthur returned, she had destroyed her mitts with her fidgeting. The moment she saw him limping up the stairs, it had taken all of her self-control not to run to him immediately. He was hurt, badly by the looks of it, and it was all her fault. Her heart was screaming for her to go after him, to check on him. Eventually, she could no longer take it. If the two thugs had followed Arthur, she would just have to risk it.

She had to choke back a cry of alarm at the sight of Arthur collapsed in bed. He looked dead, with his hair limp around his blood-covered face, his clothes torn, and his skin so pale she could almost see through it. She saw her knife dropped on the floor, splattered with blood. She hoped it wasn't his blood. Only when she drew closer and saw his chest rise and fall in a shallow breath that Elsie let out her own breath of relief. He wasn't dead. He wasn't even unconscious—he was writhing and moaning, a clear sign of his usual nightmare. Then, still asleep, he reached for her hand, trying to hold it against his cheek. She heard him mumble her name, and, as she turned him over to wake him, she saw exactly why he was squirming. And it wasn't because of a nightmare.

She pulled her hand from his grasp and jumped up from the bed, her entire torso scorched by a deep flush. She was no stranger to such a view, yet for some reason, the fact that it was Arthur, and that she might be the one causing it, flustered her a great deal. Suddenly Arthur's behavior in the last few days became clear—his refusal to share the bed with her, his hostility toward Markham, his drunken outburst, the way he tried to protect her. Even Lady Staverley had seen it. And, Elsie had to admit, if she had let herself, she would have seen it too. She didn't need his arousal to tell her that he wanted her. For it hadn't just started in the last few days. Looking back, she could remember other signs, lingering looks and brief touches that seemed to mean more than she'd thought at the time, a sense of comfort and closeness. And now, desire as well.

But she hadn't let herself see it, because intimacy was the last thing on her mind while she was on the trail of the man who destroyed her world. She had already allowed herself to become much closer to Arthur than she'd intended. She didn't need this. She didn't want this. And yet... and yet... she couldn't deny there was a fluttering in her heart whenever she thought of him. There was also something else, something stronger than companionship or mere lust. Perhaps it was hope. She had lived in the past for so long that she'd forgotten what it was like to hope, but now, for the first time, she could think of the future, and it didn't look as bleak as it used to.  

A whimper from Arthur reminded her that their present was quite bleak still. Hope would not get her closer to Compeyson, or free her from Mrs. Hill's pursuit. It was no time to act all maidenly. She waited until the flush had receded from her face, then turned back to wake him up.

***

Once the water was heated, Elsie poured it into a basin and put it on the table, along with the ointment, the alcohol, and some towels. She then knelt down in front of Arthur, who was sitting up in bed. Slowly, methodically, keeping her eyes only on his injuries, she cleaned the blood off him with the hot water, then dabbed some alcohol on the cut on his cheek. He sucked in a breath.

"You were lucky," she said. "I've seen Cyclops gut a man with that blade."

"Would they kill you, if they caught you?" he asked.

"Oh, no." She knew exactly what they would do, she'd seen it. "They would probably kill you. And Marianne, if they could find her. And make me watch." She returned Arthur's horrified stare with a calm look. "And once my spirit was completely broken, Mrs. Hill would put me back to work. She never kills a perfectly good whore. That would be a waste."

Arthur winced, but not from his wounds. "Don't say that word. You're not—"

"Not what, a whore? But I used to be one. And I'm not ashamed of it." 

He gazed at her, his lips parting, perhaps to apologize, or to say something that he couldn't quite articulate. Trying her best to ignore that beseeching look, she reached for his shirt.

"What are you doing?" he said, shrinking from her.

"Taking off your shirt to put some camphor ointment on those bruises," she said matter-of-factly. She had to stay practical. She couldn't afford the distraction.

"I can do it myself," he said. But it soon became clear that he could barely lift his arms above his head. Elsie tut-tutted impatiently and yanked the shirt off.

"Ow," Arthur mumbled in protest, his head buried in the linen folds.

"Sorry." She lifted the shirt up more gently. Bruises had already started to form all over his torso. She dipped her fingers into the ointment and carefully rubbed it on the angry purple splotches, still avoiding his eyes. If she looked into his eyes, she would break down, and that would be of no help to anyone. "Tell me if it hurts."

He nodded, but though he grimaced once or twice, he never made a sound. Silence fell while Elsie slowly worked her way from his shoulders to his collarbone and down to his ribs. If it wasn't for the sharp smell of camphor in the air, this could almost be one of their usual easy nights in. She could almost imagine the two of them in some cozy cottage like Wemmick's castle, just sitting together. There would be no Compeyson, no revenge, no painful past. They could simply enjoy each other's company without having to say or do anything. Well, perhaps not quite without doing anything...

"Can you turn around?" she asked, to stop herself from thinking the unthinkable.

Arthur complied. Elsie's hand, about to dip back into the jar of ointment, froze. Spreading across his back, underneath the bruises, was a crisscross of faded white scars.

"Where did these come from?" she asked.

"... It was Compeyson."

"What?!"

"I—I did something foolish to anger him, so he beat me," Arthur said, his voice muted with shame. "With a belt."

Elsie recognized the pattern now—she had seen similar scars on one of the girls at Mrs. Hill's, Lillian, who had been lashed by a former employer. Mrs. Hills, who had bought Lillian for her other qualities despite her scars, never beat her charges, not wanting to mark them up and reduce their value. She preferred to terrorize them by inflicting emotional fears instead.

The idea of Compeyson lashing Arthur sent chills up Elsie's spine. Cruel, black-hearted beast!

"The gallows are too good for him!" she hissed.

"Do they look very bad?" Arthur asked.

"No, no," she quickly said. "They're fine."

Without really knowing why, perhaps to show him that the scars did not revolt her one bit, she lightly brushed her fingers across one of them. His breath caught. Slowly, she moved down and across his back, kissing each and every one of the scars with her fingertips, wishing she could brush them all away.

Arthur's back trembled, and he buried his face in his hands. Elsie paused. At the sight of his pain, her determination to stay rational vanished. She leaned down and gingerly put her arms around his torso, avoiding the worst of his bruises, and held him until his breathing evened out again. They sat like that for what seemed like a long time, her chest curved against his back, her head fitted into the hollow between his neck and shoulder, his hands on hers, their hearts beating as one.

After a while, Arthur spoke. "Elsie?"

"Yes?"

"May I... kiss you?"

Her heart skipped a beat, then calmed again. "Yes," she said.

He took one of her hands from his chest. Elsie thought he was freeing himself from her embrace so he could turn to face her, but he only lifted the hand to his lips and kissed her palm. The cheeky tease... But his lips were soft on her old calluses, calluses that had formed during the year she'd worked as a maid and never really went away, and his touch was sending warm tingles all through her body, so she couldn't complain.

Which was why she was taken completely by surprise when he spun around and clasped his mouth to hers.

So she hadn't imagined it. He had kissed her, and he was kissing her now, with a hand in her hair and the other on the small of her back, drinking her in, clinging to her as if afraid that she might slip from his grasp at any moment. And she was kissing him too, luxuriating in the soft caress of his mouth, the grip of his hand, and the scent of beeswax and lemon verbena from his hair... Was that hers? Or had they spent so much time together that her scent was rubbing off on him?

Soon, too soon, Arthur broke off the kiss. He buried his face in her neck, whispering, "I'm sorry."

"Why?" she asked, running her hands up his back, his neck, pressing him to her.

"I... I want you to feel safe with me."

"Why do you think I wouldn't?"

Arthur looked at her, his eyes wide and pleading. "Because—because I... I'm not who you think..."

"Because I thought you preferred the company of men?" Before he could answer, she cupped his cheeks, lifted his face, and put her forehead to his. "Arthur, I don't judge people by their private proclivity. And I do feel safe with you. Besides," she looked down at his lap and couldn't stop a naughty grin, "you like my company now, do you?"

He blushed crimson. "I do."

Their lips met again. Then his mouth left hers to travel down her neck, her shoulder, to the soft swells of her breasts, while his hands tugged impatiently at the hooks of her bodice. She reached down to help him. Once the gown was in a heap on the floor, they worked at her corset, her petticoats, her stockings, their hands frantic, fumbling, in a frenzy to get all of those layers off, until only her chemise was left. Then Arthur suddenly stood still, staring at her. He'd had the same look when he first saw her in the evening gown, a look Elsie knew now was of awe, wonder, and desire. She was struck by unexpected shyness. She had comfortably shared the bed with him many times wearing little more than this, yet now, faced with something new and exciting and unknown, she couldn't bring herself to undress in front of him. She had received plenty of looks of lust before, but never one mixed with such adoration, and it made her want to cry.

But she didn't cry. She peeled the chemise off her arms, first one, then another. Arthur tugged it off her shoulders, and the chemise dropped to the floor next to the gown. Her shyness forgotten now, Elsie stepped forward to help him out of his trousers. He took her into his arms and stumbled on to the bed, pinning her underneath him. There was a moment's confusion as they tried to arrange themselves amidst much creaking of the bedframe and tangling of bedclothes and nervous giggling, then Elsie took Arthur's hand to guide him to her, and all was quiet again.

The silence was broken as he slid inside her. Both let out a gasp, but it wasn't a gasp of pleasure as Elsie had anticipated. She winced a little and saw her reaction mirrored on Arthur's face.

"What is it?" he asked. "Does it hurt?"

"No, no exactly," she said. "Just... it's been some time. You?"

"It's this bruise, here."

He gestured to a darkening bloom under his skin, just above his right hip. She'd missed that. It probably hurt like the devil. She brushed her hand across the bruise, and he trembled slightly, from pleasure or pain she wasn't sure. She moved her hand lower. His trembles were definitely from pleasure now. "Perhaps you'd prefer...?"

But he shook his head slightly. "No," he said. "I mean, if you want to—but—but I wish to see you." He removed the ivy wreath that Elsie forgot she was still wearing and tugged a stray curl behind her ear. "To be with you. Not just take something from you."

Nobody had ever said that to her before. Elsie could feel affection and gratitude welling up in her chest. Slowly, she eased him onto his back, while still keeping their bodies connected, until they switched places. "Better?"

He nodded with a shaky breath. "You?"

She didn't answer, only rolled her hips a little, gently, trying it out, careful to avoid his bruises. A sound escaped him, somewhere between a moan and a sob. She paused, afraid she was hurting him, but he held on to her and said, in a desperate whisper, "Don't stop."

So she didn't. She kept moving, her body matching him naturally, perfectly, as he arched up to meet her, his head buried between her breasts, his hands kneading her back. There was no need to ask what he wanted, for somehow she knew, her body knew, and moved accordingly. She had never felt this way. She did cry then, not aloud, only with silent tears streaming down her face and heaving in her chest. Sensing rather than seeing her tears, Arthur lifted his head to look at her. "What's wrong?" he asked, grazing his fingers across her wet cheek.

"Nothing," she said and tried to smile.

How could she explain? In all the years at Mrs. Hill's, she had learned to give pleasure, but never to take it in return. It was just a mechanical, physical act, something outside of herself. She didn't realize how different it would be with someone she wanted. Someone she loved. Did she love him? She didn't know. All she knew was that when he looked at her like this, with so much tenderness and longing in those big brown eyes, her heart constricted with a pleasant ache that was almost physical, an ache that spread all through her in widening circles before gathering at her center, their center, giving strength to their touches, their kisses, their embrace. His thumb came to rest at the corner of her mouth and she parted her lips for him, tasting her tears on his skin. He moaned her name, and then that ache between them exploded, like a star shattering, blinding them with light and heat, leaving them shuddering and pulsing in its wake. 

The next thing she knew was that Arthur was lowering her on top of him, their hearts and their breaths slowing together. She shifted her weight a little so she wouldn't put too much pressure on his bruises. He tightened his arms around her. "Where are you going?"

"I'm not going anywhere," she reassured him. "I just don't want to hurt you."

"You're not hurting me," he said. "Please stay. Stay like this. Keep me down."

It was the same words he'd spoken in the midst of his night terror, and she looked at him to make sure he wasn't in the grip of another attack. He wasn't, but his eyes, shining in the candlelight, pierced her heart with that ache again, more painful than pleasant now. Why did he look like that, when they had just had this? Did he realize that they were on borrowed time? Had he just remembered that there was a dark shadow between them, pulling them apart even as it drew them together? But for once she didn't want to think about any of it, not now, not when they were still glowing in each other's arms. She laid her head on his chest, let her body melt into his, and felt him relax under her. "All right, Arthur," she whispered, as she had on their first night together. "I'll keep you down."

Chapter 10

Tagging @quinnypixie!

[genevievemd]

Breathe Through

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Genevieve McClure) Word Count: 1916 Rating: T Category: Angsty Fluff Trope(s): and there was a bit of hurt/comfort, and one of them has an illness/injury

Summary: When her anxiety rears it’s head in the middle of the night, Genevieve realizes she finally has someone to lean on. 

Warnings: mentions of mental health issues/disorders

A/N: Because G is my comfort character and self insert, I gave her my anxiety disorder (quick hello to my fellow anxiety friends, love you). One of the things that comes with mine (and hers) is the occasional nocturnal panic attack, which are the worst ever. So this is her having one and getting the comfort that I don’t always get. (because I’m a single pringle with no handsome doctor to sleep with)  Also, this takes place a few months into them officially dating, so around the end of September. After LSS chapters two and three

Disclaimer: Everyone deals with anxiety differently and has different versions of it. This is my own and I’m writing from my own experience. This is no way reflects anyone else or meant to discredit anyone else’s experience. Let us all remember to be kind and gentle to each other.  

The first thing she registers is the sound of the pouring rain outside, the low rumbles of distant thunder. Next is the racing of her heart, the feeling of falling but knowing she’s tucked away in Ethan’s bed. 

But her eyes are still closed, and her body is frozen – stuck between the land of the living and the realm of sleep. 

Immediately, Genevieve knows what’s happening and she should have seen this coming. With the amount of stress that’s been piled onto her shoulders over the last few weeks, the long hours at the hospital now that its reopened fully after Leland’s renovations, and the inability to get a full nights rest, the decline in her well managed mental health was inevitable. Gen could feel her anxiety rising with every passing day, but she had hoped to keep it under control. 

It seems now, in the middle of the night, in her boyfriend’s apartment, that she failed miserably. 

The tightness in her chest worsens as her mind tries and fails to wake up fully. Her dreamland self screaming into the void, but she’s mute. No sound comes from her mouth, no matter how hard she tries. 

This hasn’t happened in almost a year, and Gen had foolishly hoped these night terrors had disappeared for good. She finally felt safe at work again, had been able to get off her medication, and was in the most stable, happy, and healthy relationship of her life. All signs pointed to the end of her worst kind of panic attacks. 

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, her body jolts awake. Her eyes opening to see she’s still safe in Ethan’s bed, but she didn’t feel safe. She felt like she was going to die. 

Her skin was slick with sweat, her body wracked with uncontrollable chills and shaking, her hands had gone numb, and it felt like she might vomit any minute. Not to mention her heart was still beating a thousand miles a minute and she couldn’t take a deep breath. 

Her eyes well with tears, steaming down her face like a silent waterfall of dread and misery. This was the last place Gen ever wanted this to happen at. While Ethan had seen her have anxiety attacks before, dealt with the annoyance of it, she tried her best to keep it from his door. 

Almost embarrassed by it all. That after fifteen years, countless rounds of meds and therapy, she still couldn’t get rid of it. Her brain would forever remain broken and bruised. 

“G?” Ethan’s voice breaks through between the thunder. His hand sleepily reaching for her. 

She was trying not to wake him, but Gen was certain that with how badly she was trembling, she was probably making the entire bed shake. 

“I’m fine.” It might be the most unconvincing sound she’s ever made. Broken words and fractured breaths. 

Ethan seems to agree because he swiftly sits up, twisting to turn on the bedside lamp. Illuminating their bedroom and casting away the darkness that had been enveloping her. 

All except the darkness that was in her own head. The one telling her everything was doomed. 

“You’re having a panic attack, yes?” 

She wants to speak, but Ethan putting a name to her personal nightmare with only a second of observation has her breaking. Her sobs growing and the all air she had left stolen as she nods in acknowledgment. 

“I’m right here. You’re okay, G. You’re safe.” He shuffles closer to her, pulling the blankets away to make her feel less constricted. “Take my hand.” 

“I – I can’t.” A chill runs down her spine, causing her to shake almost violently. Her hands still feeling numb, frozen into clenched fists. 

Wordlessly, he begins to rub her back with one hand, the other grabbing her wrist. Two fingers pressing against her pulse point. 

After a minute, Ethan speaks again. His voice gentle, but with the sternness of his doctor persona. “Try to take a deep breath.” 

She does as instructed, taking three quick breaths before being able to take a deep one. The tingling in her hands dissipating slightly. 

“Another one.” 

Again, she listens. Breathing through her nose and out her mouth. 

“Good girl.” Ethan leans in, kissing her head. “Are you experiencing any dizziness?” 

“No.” Gen whispers between breaths, swallowing back the urge to cry. 

Repeating one singular sentence in her head over and over again. 

I’m safe. I’m safe. I’m safe

“That’s good. Keep taking deep breaths.” 

“I know” 

“I know you know. I’m just reminding you.” He kisses her head again, but lingers this time. Taking a deep breath with her. “It’ll pass in another minute or two. I’m right here.” 

The agony of him seeing her like this melts away with every kiss he places on her head and shoulders, with every stroke of his hand on her back, and words whispered into her ear. The doom and gloom that took ahold of her retreating with every second that passes. 

She knows its because of him, even if Ethan seeing her like this hurts. He’s still making it better. 

Until him, Genevieve never knew that feeling of being safe could come from a person other than her family. That just being in their presence, in his presence could calm her worst fears. 

Even the ones about him. 

Of course, Gen wasn’t afraid of Ethan. She never has been. It was the opposite. 

She was afraid of how quickly she’d fallen in love with him, how deep that love was. That she knew, should she ever lose him, she may never recover. 

He knew everything about her, every scar and crack. She’d shown it all to him and maybe that was what triggered this midnight panic. The unspoken knowledge that, for the first time in a long time, she let someone know all of her and see all of her. 

Coupled with the changes at the hospital and it was no wonder Gen had broken down. 

Finally feeling like she can move, she turns to face Ethan, taking the hand that’s still on her wrist and holding it tightly. Intertwining their fingers. 

“Better?” His face is still etched with concern, no trace of sleep in sight. 

“Yes.” She frowns, fingers of her freehand reaching up to ease the creases of worry on his forehead. “I’m sorry for waking you. I was trying not to.” 

“Don’t be, sweetheart.” He kisses the palm of her hand, blue eyes trained on her green. “How long have you had nighttime panic attacks?” 

“Since I was 25, but I don’t get them very often and this was the first one I’ve had in a year. I hate it, though.” 

“I can imagine.” He offers her a small smile, but its still mixed with pain. 

Like it hurts him to see her struggle. 

“I really am sorry for waking you up.” 

“G, you don’t need to apologize. I would be more upset if you hadn’t and you dealt with this alone while I was right here sleeping.” 

“But, you –” 

“But nothing.” He gently moves the hair from her face, and the tears still steadily running down her face. “We’re partners, Rookie.” 

She sniffles, nodding her head and moving on the bed to sit in his lap. Tucking her head under his chin and against his chest. Keeping her breaths in time with his heartbeat. 

Steady and calm.

“Why don’t we go make some tea? That should help calm you down further.” Ethan whispers, resting his head on top of hers, his arms tightening around her small frame. 

“I can do it, so you can go back to sleep. You have that meeting with Leland in the morning, you need to rest.” 

“So do you, and I won’t get any if I know you’re milling about. Come on.” He gently lifts her off his lap and into his arms, carrying her out of the bedroom and into his kitchen. 

He places her onto the island, kissing her forehead before opening the cabinet to get the eclectic kettle.

“Do you want to talk about it? Will that help?” 

“No.” 

“Are you sure?” He looks back at her from over his shoulder as he fills the kettle, brows knit together. 

“Yes.” 

He doesn’t seem satisfied with that answer, but he takes it. Looking away from her and back to what he was doing. Moving around his kitchen, gathering supplies for her tea. 

She does want to talk about it, but she also isn’t ready to tell him that she loves him. And the thought of doing so, of disclosing that she awoke in a panic because of that all-consuming, life changing love makes her anxiety heighten once more. 

For now, Genevieve will keep it to herself and pray that this never happens again. Because no matter how understanding he may be, how willing he is to help, there will always be a small part of her that feels like a burden for it. An every growing annoyance to his once quiet and stable life. 

“Hey.” Ethan’s deep voice pulls her eyes up, standing in front of her. “I’m not annoyed and you are not a burden.” 

“How did you –” 

He raises eyebrow, his hands coming to rest on her thighs. “Diagnostic instincts, G.” 

“Right.” She lets out a breathless laugh, leaning forward to rest her forehead against his chest. “Sometimes I forget that you’re the country’s best diagnostician.” 

“I’m offended, Rookie. How could you forget that, after all the guidance I’ve given you?” Ethan quips, arms coming around her once more. His hands tracing patterns on her back. 

“Because I –” She lifts her head, meeting his eyes. “Most days I just see you as Ethan, my boyfriend, and not Dr. Ramsey, my boss and mentor. I know that’s probably a bad thing, but that’s why. I mean, at work, you’re Dr. Ramsey but also not always and –” 

“I understand.” He smiles down at her, “I get that way with you, as well. Which was always a risk, and what kept me from you for so long.” 

“But the reward outweighed it all?” 

“Yes.” Ethan leans down, his lips pressing delicately against hers. It lasts only a moment, unwilling to go any farther. 

The kettle clicks off, the sound seeming louder in the quiet of his apartment. He moves to take it off it’s base, but Gen pulls him back to her.

“Thank you.” She looks up at him, green eyes welling with tears once more. Though not out of fear or pain, but gratitude. “Not just for making me tea, but for helping me through that. I usually have to do it alone and I… Thank you.” 

“Always, G. It’s you and me, right?” 

“Yeah.” She whispers, nodding her head as she looks up at him in wonder and love. “Now and always.” 

“Preciously.” 

For the first time since her abrupt awaking, she feels peace. The dark thoughts that shook her a distant and faded memory. It may happen again, maybe not tomorrow or next week, but when it does, Gen knows she finally has someone to lean on. To be there when it feels like everything is crashing down around her. Someone who won’t judge her or be annoyed by her. 

Someone who cares, who’s happy to help her through it all. 

She only hopes that he knows he has it too. 

That they continue to be each other’s cure to the madness, the thing that keeps them breathing steadily through it all. 

A/N: I won’t lie, writing this one made me emotional. It might be one of my favorites now. 

The next fic I do might be smut, and I’m also trying to get back to AMTH, that’s my main focus. Cause I hate that we’re now past that point in TTDS but the fic series for it isn’t done. 

K, that’s it. Bye. Love you. 

(Tagging separately) 

[butyoumakemesohot]

I have a request if that's okay! Maybe something where Steve is sick with a really bad cold and Robin has been tasked with taking care of him, but when he gets worse she ends up freaking out and calling Eddie for help?

for the sake of this fic pretend that steve & robin are roommates <3 also this one got a little bit angsty, i hope that’s okay! (1.7k words)

cw: mentions of concussions/head injuries

Steve’s been asleep on the couch all morning.

Robin sits cross-legged at his feet, hunched over a book in order to distract herself from his incessant snoring. The sound should be a lot more irritating than it is, but to be honest, it’s a nice reminder that he’s alive. From his pale skin, one would only assume he’s on the brink of death.

If she’s right in thinking he’s caught the same head cold she had last week, he probably feels like he’s dying, too.

Suddenly, he lets out a small, pained groan. Robin lets her book fall onto the coffee table, diligent and doting as she turns her full attention to him. He acted similarly when she was sick; she figures it’s the least she can do now.

More silence. She furrows her brows, placing a hand against his leg. “Steve?”

He groans again, much louder this time, before letting out a weak, scratchy cough. It takes him a moment to work up the energy to speak. “Mby head. *snrff!*”

She can barely understand him due to how hoarse and stuffy he sounds.

“Your head?” she asks. “Does it hurt?”

He nods, fighting to open his eyes. Robin knows from experience how sore they must be. She rushes to grab the bottle of Tylenol off the table, quickly moving to stand over him.

“I think it’s time for more of these,” she says, squeezing his shoulder comfortingly. “Uh, you’ll probably have to sit up. Sorry.”

Steve sighs in defeat, then manages to pull himself up, slowly swinging his legs over the edge of the couch. He accepts the medicine with shaky hands, pouring out a couple tablets before reaching for his glass of water and downing the pills with a strong wince.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “Is this h-how you felt? Hhehh - Hhh’ESCHHHhew! *sdrf!* Heh’TSCHHHIEW!”

Robin frowns sympathetically as he pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to massage away some of the inflammation that’s causing his head to hurt so badly. He lets himself fall back into the couch cushions, a sickly haze filling his eyes as he stares straight ahead.

“Pretty much,” Robin says quietly. “I’m sorry.”

She sits down next to him. He squeezes her knee gently.

“Dot your fault.” He blinks a few times, the rims of his nostrils already flaring again. “Hihh… HP’SCHHHHEW! *snrfg!*” He winces from the force of the sneeze, cupping his hands over his face. “Hh’TCHHHHh! Hh’TSCHHHhh! God - *snfgg* - excuse mbe.”

“Gesundheit. And can you accept my apology for once? I think you look worse than I did.”

Steve smirks. “I beg to differ.”

“Wow. Walked right into that one, huh?” She rises from the couch, gingerly patting the top of his head to smooth down some of his unruly hair. “I’m gonna go make you some soup. You better hope I don’t poison it.”

“Please, put mbe out of mby miiihhhsery - Hheh-! Hh’ESCHHHHh! *snrff!* HeH’TSCHHHHOO!”

Robin assumes he’s joking, but as the day wears on, it’s impossible not to suspect that Steve’s feeling much worse than he’s letting on. He’s only able to eat about half of his food before succumbing to another round of restless sleep, eyes tightly pinched as he fights a losing battle against his throbbing head. She can see it in every aching sneeze, in every congested cough - whatever this is, another round of Tylenol isn’t going to fix it.

“Are you sure there’s nothing else I can get you?” she asks him after he’s woken up for the second time. He’s letting her keep a towel-wrapped ice pack pressed against his pounding forehead, his own arms too tired to prop it up himself.

Steve sighs shakily. He brings a bundle of tissues to his face, harshly wiping his nose. “Doe - *snnfg!* - just deed to let it pass.”

They’re roughly the same height, but with Robin’s arm draped around him and his head resting against her shoulder, she can’t help but think about how frail Steve looks right now. It’s hugely contradictive to the way he’s always putting himself in harm’s way for her.

“It happeds a lot mbore frequently ndowadays. *snffg!* Whed I’mb sick.”

“What? Your headaches?”

“Uh-huh,” he mumbles. His voice is almost childlike. “I dod’t kndow if you’ve ndoticed, but people love to smack mbe around.”

Her heart sinks a little. “Yeah... I guess that makes sense.”

“Are you sayig I have a punchable face, Buckley?”

Robin giggles, mainly out of delight that he’s still feeling well enough to crack a joke. “Yeah, that’s obviously what I meant.”

Steve smiles back at her just before letting out a series of sudden and ragged coughs, grimacing at the new level of pain it brings to the center of his face. She rubs the space between his shoulder blades while he waits for the fit to pass, lowering the ice from his face so he can properly swipe away the tears that have collected along his lashes.

“Oh, shit,” he whispers.

“What?”

He brings the tissues back up to his face just before he jerks forward. “Hh’ISSSCHHH!-nnggh.” He sniffles wetly, his face screwing up in pain. “Heh’TSCHHHH’uhh… Hh’ESSCHHHHh! Guhh… Ow. *snxxgg!*”

She pats him on the back again, feeling utterly helpless. “Bless you. I’m… sorry. That it hurts so bad. I can’t imagine.”

His red nostrils are still flaring; he folds the tissues over and massages his dripping nose with them, only allowing himself to speak once the burning sensation in his sinuses has dwindled. 

“Thangk you,” he croaks. “It’s okay, Rob. Really. You dever beat mbe up.”

“Don’t hold your breath,” she says, earning another smile out of him.

Robin likes to think she knows Steve pretty well - has all but memorized his face, no matter how bruised or bloodied it may get. But this look is different. This look - shoulders hunched, eyes glazed over with sickly tears, pale forehead throbbing against her hand as he fruitlessly wipes his tender nose - is something new. She doesn’t know if she can handle it on her own.

She squeezes his hand before offering him the ice pack, rising to her feet. “I’m gonna go get you some more water, okay?” 

Steve nods, tiredly lifting the ice to his face. “Okay. Thangks agaid. For, you kndow…” He waves his hand around in a vague gesture. “... everythig. *snrfg!*”

“Anytime, Harrington.”

Luckily, he falls asleep again by the time she works up the courage to make a much-needed phone call.

–

“I think it’s all the previous concussions that are making everything worse. Or at least that’s what Steve said.”

“Yeah, I suppose getting the shit knocked out of you a couple times will do that to you.”

“It was more than a couple of times, actually, but I... Oh, shit. He never told you about Jonathan Byers, did he?”

She and Eddie are speaking in hushed tones, tip-toeing around pieces of furniture to get to the hallway as noiselessly as possible. Eddie quietly shrugs off his jacket and toes off his sneakers, discarding them both by the couch.

“He didn’t have to. That story made its way around Hawkins High faster than the head lice breakout of ‘82. Not my fault, by the way.” He sets down a plastic bag, fishing around until he finds a bottle of cough medicine and a blanket she vaguely recognizes from his trailer. “So… where is he now?” 

“I ushered him back to his room not too long ago. He should still be asleep.” Robin hovers around him nervously, forcing a small smile. “Thanks for coming over. He’s gonna be super happy to see you.”

“I mean, it seems like you had the situation under control.” Eddie smiles back at her. It’s more comforting than she’d like to admit. “But I am really glad you called.”

His voice is calm in the face of Robin’s wavering demeanor. She tries to smooth out the worry lines in her forehead, clasping her hands together behind her back so that he can’t see the way she’s been wringing them together for the past hour. 

They reach the door to Steve’s bedroom. Eddie enters first, draping the blanket over Steve and tucking it around his trembling frame before perching himself against the edge of the bed. Steve’s back is turned, but Robin can see the way his chest trembles as it rises and falls, stuttering around the constant urge to cough or sneeze.

He shifts when he feels Eddie’s hand on the side of his face, ring-clad fingers affectionately brushing through his damp hair.

“Eddie?” he whispers. 

Eddie breaks out into a full-fledged grin upon seeing Steve’s eyes crack open.

“Hey there, sweetheart. I heard we’re not feeling well?”

“Hhhow did you - Hah’PTCHHHHh’uhh…” Steve groans quietly, massaging his swollen sinuses. “Sorry… Hah-! Hh’TCHHHHH! *snrff!*”

“Bless you.” Eddie leans down and presses a kiss to Steve’s pale forehead. “Let’s just say I’m here to relieve Robin of some of her nursing duties. You know I like to work a night shift.” 

It’s not much of an explanation, but Steve must be too exhausted to ask for specifics, because he just yawns, mindlessly scrubbing his nose with the corner of Eddie’s blanket. The longer-haired boy doesn’t seem to mind one bit.

“Gotcha.” He sniffles thickly. “I’mb really glad you’re here.”

“Me too, Harrington. Me too.”

Steve pauses, lowering the blanket from his face in realization. “Wait… is this yours?”

“It’s your favorite, isn’t it?” Eddie asks, affectionately pressing his thumb against the worried crease between Steve’s brows.

“Y-Yeah, I just dod’t wadda - Hh’ESSCHHHH’uhh!… - idfect it with my germbs. *snrk!* I’mb pretty gross.”

“You’re never gross. Here.” He passes Steve the bandana from his back pocket. “Blow some of that gunk out for me, okay? You’ve already had, what, two sinus infections this year?”

Steve lifts the bandana to his face briefly, then shakes his head in defeat. “Cad’t.”

“You can’t? Why not?”

“It hurts. *snffgg!* Whed I blow, it hurts mby - Hh’ESCHHHH! - mby head - Heh’TSSCHHHh!” His features twist horribly as another wave of pain hammers in his skull. “Fuck. *snxxg!* Ouch.”

Steve’s thick, wet sneezes and frustrated cursing are accompanied by a sudden flash of tears that Robin can see dribbling down his cheeks. Her chest tightens in a panic as she quietly backs towards the door, hoping that he can’t sense her presence. He’s probably already embarrassed enough to be crying in front of Eddie.

“Shhh, hey, hey.” Eddie’s voice is impossibly soothing.

“Sorry, I just - *snurrf!*” He drags a hand over his face, his features crumpling slightly. “It really hurts, Eds.”

“I know it hurts, baby. C’mere.”

Robin can’t hear much of what he says after that. His head is ducked down close to Steve’s so he can look him in the eyes, his fingers grazing against the younger boy’s damp cheeks. Suddenly, he grasps Steve’s shoulders, pulling him in for a hug so tight that Robin can feel the phantom of it from her spot in the doorway. Steve squeezes him back roughly, his shoulders starting to shake.

It’s almost hypnotizing, this strong display of emotion. Robin doesn’t realize she’s frozen in place until her eyes trail over Eddie’s face, peeking out from behind Steve’s hair to mouth, I’ve got him.

If it were anyone else, Robin wouldn’t believe it. But it’s Eddie, and Eddie has yet to prove her wrong about pretty much anything when it comes to Steve, so she nods. She exits the room with the strongest wave of relief she’s felt in a while. Eddie’s got him.

[j-graysonlibrary]

The Xiang Chronicles: Book Two Chapter 6

Title: The Xiang Chronicles: Book Two

Author: Jay Grayson

Word Count: 98k

Genres: Fantasy, adventure, drama, LGBT+

Available on: my website

Synopsis: With another Xiang in the mix, for the first time in history, Pangu decides to reevaluate his methods and his place in the world. Along with taking his little sister Heidi as his last disciple, he also chooses to take the more political path in his efforts to end the discord throughout the land—particularly within Terra. (And gaining favor from the handsome Lord of Ultimos does not hurt.)

Heidi butts heads with everyone in the group, save Raine, and tensions are higher than ever. There are failed love confessions, in-group fighting, and demons from Kira’s past but that all comes to a head when they meet a servant of Shakti who is more than what she seems.

Could it be that the Mistresses of Shadow are more nuanced than previously believed? Or that the strict dichotomy between light and dark are, perhaps, a touch exaggerated? That and more begin to plague Pangu’s mind and his faith wavers…

Full chapter 6 under the cut

Chapter VI:

After spending the night and taking far too long to get ready the following morning, the Xiang’s group stood outside in the field, saying goodbyes. It was already nearly noon, far later than Pangu had intended to leave but he did find it difficult to cut any conversation short when he did not know when the next time Baiya would be able to see his family would be.

Feiman clung to his brother almost as badly as Daiji did but Jaimas was in front of Kira, holding a flower up to him. The Terran disciple glanced down with a raised brow, curious as to why she was with him rather than her brother.

He took the flower and offered a brief smile. “Thanks?”

“It’s Lormas,” she said, “An herb to help you sleep better.”

Kira looked at the flower in a new light. He had heard of herbs that helped with sleep but he had never heard this particular name. “Oh?”

Jaimas nodded enthusiastically. “I saw that you have dark eye circles and mom says that means you are not getting enough sleep. So you should take this and rest more.”

Her delivery was a bit brutal in its honesty but Kira could feel the sincerity behind her intent. He had barely spent any time talking to her during any of their other visits and yet she showed him this level of consideration.

“Well…thank you. I will try it tonight.”

The girl grinned. “You can eat the bud raw or crush it up and steep it in some tea. It is sweeter raw though so that’s how I do it.”

Kira arched one of his eyebrows. “You have it sometimes?”

“Yeah.” Jaimas fidgeted with her hands and looked down at her feet. “After all those scary men came, I had a hard time sleeping. Mom said I was getting dark circles too so she gave me Lormas.”

A lot more clicked into place and Kira nearly winced at the stabbing feeling happening inside of his chest. Jaimas had not just noticed his dark circles and put two and two together, she had also seen, in him, a reflection of herself from a few months ago. Maybe she even thought he was struggling with something similar.

“Has it gotten better?” Kira decided to ask after swallowing down the lump in his throat.

“Um…I still have nightmares sometimes but not so many.” She smiled. “I think you need the Lormas more than me.”

Kira really wondered how the girl came from the same family as Baiya. Honestly, he thought much the same about the rest of the man’s family as well. All of them were kind and nurturing yet they had somehow raised him. Then again, Kira was not one to buy into the idea that apples did not fall far from their trees as that would end up painting him with terrible colors as well.

Baiya finished his goodbyes and they were back on the road again, only continuing with their detour slightly. He had the supplies strapped onto his horse and, while it was not much, it did weigh him down so he ended up splitting the bags up between all of their horses.

The sun started to kiss the horizon when they trailed into the town and many of the shops were bound to close soon so they hurried to their destination.

Baiya rushed to the building and caught the clerk just before he could close the shutters. “I have the grain delivery from Daiji’s farm.”

That was enough to stop the clerk who then leaned out from the window and eyed the small entourage. “It’s earlier than we expected. After that storm, we figured it would be another few days.”

“Well, we rushed.”

Each of them took their respective bags from their horses and began to pass it over, ending with Baiya who handed each to the clerk. At the end, the young man behind the window scrawled over a long sheet of paper, recording all of the inventory properly.

“There we are. Six bags of grain, as due, no late fee or tax given the delay due to nature…” he grumbled a little under his breath, “and we are all set.”

“Great.” Baiya smiled and turned toward the others. An orange glow fell over the town as the sun dipped even further behind the distant mountains. “Should we ride out to a camp site?”

“We do have a few hours left before we really need to stop,” Raine seconded the motion.

“Ah, yes, who doesn’t love sleeping on the ground with rocks in their back,” Heidi muttered but also seemed to already be accepting of the outcome. Certainly, she had spent many nights out in the wilds on her way to Ultimos by herself.

Pangu readied himself to agree that, yes, they did need to be on their way so they could return to Viren posthaste but he only got as far as opening his mouth.

“Baiya?” A strange voice called out and Baiya turned first while the others just followed with their eyes. A figure approached them—a man dressed in light armor with a curved sword on his hip. By the looks of him, he was a guard of some sort though he forwent any headgear and, instead, wore a wrap around his temples which allowed his tall, curly hair to poke out the top. “I thought that was you…”

“Crom.” Baiya said his name in a friendly yet short manner. Pangu and Kira, both, noted how his adams apple bobbed when he spoke.

As he walked closer, Crom’s smile was more evident. His eyes squinted as he grinned and he placed a hand on Baiya’s arm, giving a slight squeeze before letting go. “How have you been? It has been a while since I’ve seen you.”

They definitely were familiar with one another and while Baiya did not seem as elated as Crom was, everyone could come to the conclusion that they were on, at least, a friendly basis. Raine was curious as to why the third disciple seemed so nervous and he began to wonder if this guard, of all people, was someone Baiya had worked with in some underhanded capacity.

But Raine was the only one thinking in that direction. Pangu and Kira—even Heidi as well—could tell there was much more just based on Baiya’s body language. Heidi did not known the man very well but she had seen many of the men she worked with be caught up in affairs. Some of their one-night-only ladies had even come to visit them at work and the nervous, almost skittish nature they exhibited was not too far removed from what she was seeing now.

Kira could tell immediately what the situation was. Not only based on Baiya’s reaction but Crom’s face as well. The smile the man shot his way was laced with memory and excitement. Kira immediately looked to Pangu to see how he was handling the news, if he was even grasping the subtleties at all.

He definitely was. Pangu might not have if he and Baiya had not discussed the topic before, back in Phaos, but he would have felt that something was off. Now that he had the information that Baiya liked men and that past relationships had been alluded to, it was simple to piece things together. The downside to that, however, was that Pangu could, quite vividly, imagine what that night might have looked like between the two.

His heart constricted and he watched the scene with a tightening jaw.

“Well I have been quite busy these past few months,” Baiya said before gesturing back to Pangu, “This is the Xiang…I was asked to be his disciple.”

Crom’s smile completely disappeared to make room for shock. “You are joking?” He looked more at Pangu than at Baiya.

“Not at all,” Kira answered for Pangu which he was more than grateful for. “This is the Xiang.”

In a swift motion, Crom curled his hand into a fist, pounded it against his own chest, and then bowed. “Greetings, Xiang.” He straightened his posture and his smile returned. “I hope Agni has not been too inhospitable to you. Most of us are not…”

“Religious,” Raine finished when the guard trailed off. “We are aware. And we have managed.”

“Good. I am, um, not especially faith focused myself but…” Crom glanced back toward Baiya. “Him even less so. I am honestly surprised he is a part of your group. I almost want to think this is some sort of prank.”

“If it is, it’s a long prank,” Kira said, almost in a grumble.

Baiya ignored him and only responded to Crom. “Is it so unbelievable?”

He was answered, at first, with a big laugh. “Are you kidding? You were the one that taught me about the history of the Xiang stealing Agni territory and waging over half of their wars on our soil.” Crom briefly touched Baiya’s arm and then addressed the rest of the group when he said, “He used to tell the others in our squad that did worship Tiandi that they should reconsider since the god clearly hated them.”

“Crom…” Baiya pinched the bridge of his nose.

Heidi snickered. “Oh? You are not just a non-believer but an active antagonist?”

“I was aware when I picked him,” Pangu said, quiet. Everyone still heard him, however, and glanced over. He could not look his Agni disciple in the eye nor could he look at Crom for too long. “Baiya is strong, has a high resonance, and is able to separate me as Xiang from the Xiangs of the past. That is all I care about.”

“He has been invaluable in leading us around Agni as well,” Raine tacked on, offering a short, terse smile.

“It is still so bizarre.” Crom slowly shook his head back and forth and then gave Baiya another once over, as if having to assess him all over again. “Well, I had hoped, when I saw you, that we could…hang out, like old times. I will not take you from your duties, however, since you are busy busy now.”

“Actually,” Pangu spoke before he could even finish thinking. His eyebrows rose in slight surprise at himself as he continued. “It is getting a bit late. We can stay here at the inn for tonight and then just ride a little harder tomorrow to make up for lost time.”

“Pangu…” Baiya tried looking at him but the Xiang would still not make eye contact. “You sure?”

“I am pretty tired,” he answered, staring at one of the storefronts in the distance instead of any of them.

Crom was the only one who did not, immediately, pick up on the mood shift. He kept a big grin on his face and bowed again, more loosely this time. “Thank you, Xiang. I will not keep him up too late.”

Pangu finally made eye contact but with Crom, not Baiya. “Have fun,” he nearly whispered the words and forced a smile as the man looped his arm with the Agni disciple, getting comfortable.

Heidi hung back as they left Baiya behind and walked to the inn across the barren street. The entire town was really only a series of storefronts on opposite sides of a dirt road so there was not much privacy afforded to Baiya and Crom. More than anything, however, Heidi was surprised that Pangu even let them stay alone together. Given how her brother looked at the couple, she expected him to jealously claim his disciple as his own, at least on some professional or duty bound level.

“Kira, you and Raine can take a room. Heidi will stay with me,” Pangu announced as he paid for the rooms at the front of the building.

“…You don’t want to talk?” Kira asked carefully.

“About what?” Pangu responded curtly.

“I don’t know…” Heidi muttered, “Your blasé attitude toward Baiya and his…friend?”

“I do not know what you mean.” Pangu forced a smile. “I do know that I am tired and I want to sleep. Baiya can stay out or pick a room to retire to when he comes back. As long as he is ready to leave with us in the morning, what he does is his own business.”

Kira’s worry was blatant but he parted ways with them and left for his room with Raine. Heidi sighed, knowing the burden was now on her shoulders.

The room, like the rest of the town, was severely lacking. There were not even mattresses but mats on the hardwood floor. Heidi grimaced at the sight but sat down on one anyway. She waited until her brother claimed a mat before taking a deep breath and sighing.

“Holding this stuff in is not good, you know.”

“What are you talking about, Heidi?”

She frowned and pulled her legs up to rest her chin on her knee. “I think you know exactly what I am talking about. Your feelings for Baiya.”

Pangu shook his head and then lay down on the mat. He turned away from her to physically block her out but still replied, “You are just looking for opportunities to tease me. I will not take your bait.”

“I am not!” Heidi huffed. “Since you were little I knew you had a thing for guys. I never judged you for that, you know? I am trying to be supportive right now, not mean.”

He folded his arms across his chest and dug his nails in, pinching through the fabric of his robe. “How could you have possibly known back then?” Even he had not figured it out until his later teen years.

Another sigh passed her lips but she relaxed some. “Remember that friend I had? What was his name? …Pik? The boy you always wanted me to invite over each time you were allowed to visit?”

“Pak,” Pangu recalled. He had come to realize the young boy had been his first infatuation though it was short lived. “How did you realize from that?”

“I had a girl friend who also liked Pak,” Heidi explained, “She looked at him the same way you did. I realized the connection and did not say anything. I was not even sure your mentors knew since that sort of thing was against Tiandi and all…”

Though, to be honest, she had kept the information to herself for two reasons. The first was that she had never been one hundred percent positive and the second was a tad more vindictive. She wanted to hold onto the secret until she had a good time to use it. That time just never came and, as she grew older, she realized that she had no desire to “ruin” her brother as she once did. So, she let it go.

“Baiya knows…” Pangu said in a whisper after a short bout of silence. “So does Kira but I have not told Raine. And no, my old mentors do not know either.”

“You told Baiya?” Heidi was rather surprised. Out of everyone, she would figure her brother would avoid him the most in regards to that topic.

“Yes. I mentioned that I liked men and he told me he was similar.” Pangu gulped. “Kira sort of figured it out on his own. He has a sixth sense about these things.”

“Hmm.”

Another pause persisted and Heidi was driven to her feet as a thought entered her head. Pangu heard the commotion and turned his head to the side. “Where are you going?” he asked.

“There was a well beside the building. I am going to get a drink of water.” She did not wait for a response before hurrying out of the room.

It had barely been a half hour so she was not sure if she would see Baiya and Crom outside anymore. There was a possibility that the Agni disciple had retired to the guard’s barracks for the night. In which case, she would have to have a talk with him.

Really, either way, she intended to talk with him.

Once she was outside again, she scoured the area until she heard some muffled voices. She pressed her body against the wall of the nearest building and crept closer until she could peer around the corner.

In a space between stores, two bodies faced each other and, if she focused, she could hear the words being said. “I know, I am sorry.” Baiya.

“That is alright. I just wanted to ask.” Crom.

Heidi leaned even further, only hoping her silhouette would not be seen.

“I understand and, perhaps if we had met up six months earlier, the answer would be different,” Baiya said.

“Is there a rule about it? …being a disciple and all?”

“Not especially…but my priorities and wants have changed since then.”

Silence.

“Is it one of them…?” Crom trailed off.

“N-no. It is not.”

Crom’s dry laugh echoed through the narrow space. “Oh, Baiya…who am I going to tell?”

Baiya took a long moment to respond and when he did, he was so quiet that Heidi almost could not hear him. “It’s the Xiang.”

She perked up and moved away, losing the remainder of the conversation in her internal celebration. Finally, there was something good she could do for her brother. Something to prove to him and his disciples that she really did want to be helpful.

So when Baiya appeared from the alleyway, she stepped out to greet him. “Hey.”

He jumped back and clutched a hand over his chest. “Shit! What are you doing out here?”

“Grabbing some water,” she stuck with the same excuse she gave Pangu, “and, unexpectedly, to give you some good news.”

Baiya’s scarred brow was the one that rose up. “…Good news?”

Heidi smiled and nodded. “I did happen to overhear you just now—sorry—but I can tell you that my brother feels the same way.”

While she expected some level of surprise, she did not anticipate Baiya to scowl. His brows furrowed and he pushed past her to head toward the inn. “Leave your brother alone, will you?”

She spun around. “What…? I mean it. I am not trying to pick on him; I am trying to help.”

He glared over his shoulder. “Whatever joke you think you are playing, it is not funny.”

Heidi watched with a hanging jaw as Baiya stormed into the building, leaving her out on the road. She was not even sure how to react—that had not gone, at all, how she had hoped. Not even close.

[shadow-8d]

i have no idea if he’ll see this, or if he’ll care, but i just saw something he posted on snap this morning that lowkey hurt the shit out of me. i realized i’m probably overthinking it. it probably had nothing to do with me. he’s been around worse. 

but i have to talk about it here; i have this incessant need to try. i don’t know if it’ll work. only reason i ever stop trying is cause of how exhausted i get waiting for it to work. but i still want to even in that state of exhaustion. 

i have been FUCKED. UP. for a while. 

toward the tail end of my innocence, i was in a really abusive relationship with a covert narcissistic dynamic, untreated in any capacity. but the girl i loved, she wasn’t a narcissist. no way. the girl i saw was so beautiful it makes me cry to this day. i doubt i’ll ever fall out of love completely. 

but after the honeymoon phase it went like this: imagine you are sitting in a hospital in an uncomfy chair, visiting a friend who’s broken a leg. though it won’t make the chair any more comfortable, you’re not going to mention the uncomfiness of this chair to your friend. why? unequal damage. they’re going thru it worse than you. 

she was beautiful but she was bruised. she was bleached, bitchy, beautiful, broken, and bruised. her one support system in her life was actively failing her in the middle of a pandemic before which she was already isolated within the confines of her lil ass town in her lil ass house. 

but my sixteen year old hopeless romantic loner ass wanted her. 

so i made the mistake of chasing. 

shoulda known it was gonna destroy me. 

i made a lot of mistakes after that relationship. i’m quite literally still high. started smoking the day after and didn’t stop. and i got into another one less than a month after that lasted for eight months. then into another situation i allowed to arise IN THE MIDST OF ENDING THE ONE PREVIOUS, for another seven months. then watched a boy fall for me as i fell for him in return; tried to pretend it wasn’t happening cause i didn’t think he could love me (turned out to be right) and i had other commitments i cared more about than whatever the fuck he was on. 

always hated group mixing as a kid. i keep my foods apart on a plate and i keep my friends apart less i skate, word to god. but when i like somebody i can let my imagination run wild. and i liked the potential i saw in that cottage trip a LOT. 

i hadn’t seen my boy for ages, cause he had shit to do for school. i refuse to get in the way of someone’s education. he needs to be able to do well in this life, and i’ll do whatever it takes to see him succeed. i stand by that. 

even if i haven’t been able to communicate directly to him a lot recently, i already know how imma get his books back. i know he wants them. he cares. he needs em and he deserves em. redacted shouldn’t have taken them. but he’s selfish. 

and i’d been, essentially, manic for the past few weeks. since my parents had argued with me so badly i realized no amount of communication was going to get through. i hadn’t told him that, really, but i’d been really really scaring myself with how far out of my way i was going to chase adrenaline. i think also in some way i was mimicking my friend, in how he always coped by chasing adrenaline on a skateboard. if he didn’t need to give a fuck, why should i? energy. maybe adrenaline does have a kick to it. but from that day on, i was out of my house. 

i knew i was coming off as distant towards him, but i was being distant towards everyone. that’s how i get when i’m “manic” like that, i guess. i don’t have the capacity to give a shit about anyone who can’t facilitate the goals i have, because everything i’m doing is out of this mental illusion of a teeth-gritting necessity to survive. i don’t actually need to do those things, but if i don’t, the hallucinations start coming back. i start dragging metal across my skin. picking my fingers til they drip down hallways. and within the confines of his life, especially how important it is that he is NOT manic while he tries to finish his homework, i had to minimize my level of interaction with him not just because i knew he needed to do his shit, but because i felt i needed to protect him from how scary i was getting. 

mania is one of the reasons i believe i was so okay with allowing him to be on that trip with that fucking bitch and redacted and redacted.: and redacted;. it was never a question of whether i wanted him there. i did. i know how good a cottage vacay is, and i can’t imagine how nice it must be to get an offer like that knowing shit’s RARE. it’s not like mom and dad got that shit at home, either, so when an opportunity opens up it’s NICE. but it’s also, i DID grow up like that. and u gotta understand, with my boy? he’s fucked up. i came into his life when he had his head over a toilet bowl. do you understand how much care and precision i had to execute to get this creature to trust me, to get him to come out of his shell, to open himself up? to be willing to DESTROY it with a PREDATOR like that fucking bitch? would be LAUGHABLY stupid compared to the level of calculation i’d successfully been employing - up until i got into that manic state. 

another selfish factor of that manic state is that he isn’t someone who can give me those outlets the same way the friends i was around at the time could, which meant that i couldn’t be around him as much bc i relied on those outlets to survive the kind of lifestyle mania b thrustin me into. 

both redacted and redacted.: had:

access to vehicles

had interest + time to hang (on daily basis at one point)

redacted specifically:

access to free drugs

1h skateboard ride in the country away

practical house

good ass food

parents who aren’t gonna judge me when i come over

logical stability w his daily routine that calms my actual soul

redacted.: specifically

within walking distance

made me feel less uncomfy about bein queer around a straight boy

uni student

constantly offered to hang

stuck RIGHT up for me during trauma. held me. talked me back into sanity

in contrast, though i very much was into my boy and i wished endlessly i could’ve had those convos with HIM instead of these guys all the time, there is difficulty in being around him. it’s unrelated entirely to anything he should feel bad for, not his fault. but it involves

all four of his guardian figures being in some way harmful to me

lives further away from me both bus and drive wise

is a year younger academically so academic requirements are completely unrelated

has responsibility for his lil sis on weekends

his dad didn’t let him sleep over for over half a year lol and made it rlly hard on him psychologically if ever he tried to question it

he is v mentally ill and we were to a degree engaged in a level of toxicity with the ignoring each other thing which i know made his shit worse

now let’s take a good long think. to be able to live up to what these above bullet points put in front of me, this is what i enacted like 2 months into our situation.

we are going to hang out at my house when possible, not his house, to avoid the guardian factor. i have trauma related to how little the parents of the people i date feel about me and so if i continue engaging with this i’m going to want to do an oopsie. 

when he does come over, bc it means he’s gonna have to travel, ima do my best to take care of every physiological need he’s ever had cause that’s the one way i can actually, concretely help with the level of shit he’s dealing with. quite doable. my resources privilege me. 

i couldn’t date him because i felt that i couldn’t handle an (unstable, out of either of our control) relationship during school when i was slipping in and out of wanting to do oopsies. it was too much. 

i tried to avoid facetiming him on weekends because the way he’d still sit there on the phone with me while talking to his lil sis the whole time, hurt. i knew he wanted to talk to me or he wouldn’t have been there, but he literally did not have the time. and she needs him more than i ever can. 

i tried not to press the sleepover shit in terms of it being his fault or his responsibility to fix, because of how hard it was for him to do, and how hard it was for me to watch him fight what i saw as a pointless, endless fight. he still won it anyway, stubborn bastard. but at what cost?

i never let my ignoring of him get to the degree of cutting off communication because i knew if i were to abandon him it could leave him worse than when i met him, which was actually sickening to conceptualize, so i always have kept some avenue of communication between us open. 

i was hoping the cottage trip would be a way for him to see that kind of stability and get a slice of it himself so he could see why and how it was necessary for me in that moment. but the most crucial aspect of this trip that has carried forward until this point is that it did the EXACT opposite for me - it DESTROYED the only stability i had managed to build since i had been ripped apart at the end of 2021. 

it took away the boy i was talking to, it took away both of my best friends and sent them right back to their vices and within that took away my daily routine, and it made my parents angrier at me. it took away the shit i had to keep me occupied during work. it took away my inspiration and motivation to create art. it took away my capacity for any and every form of connection. 

it completely traumatized me in front of the people i had worked my ass off to heal for. 

that’s why everything became so dramatic. it ripped the rug right out from under my feet in every single direction. and given his direct involvement with why i, specifically, was so fucked up, i was in absolutely no state to even speak with him for a few weeks after i came back from that trip. that was the case BEFORE all the other shit started unfolding on top of me - watching redacted run off with a girl when i needed him to be there for me. watching redacted.: start vaping again and get a hyperfixation on fishing. the two of us begging redacted not to leave us for her and him refusing and going anyway. trying to explain what had happened to eli, the only mf who even tried to listen, then that boy started ignoring me for weeks. this was, of course, after i had to bring myself to TYPE my feelings out to him because he had started refusing to show his face on facetime or actually open his mouth and speak on the phone. 

it was so bad redacted felt, of his own volition (oblivious boy), that he had to call me to try and calm that shit down. i was so terrified i was gonna be abandoned i was half suicidal with fear. and that boy didn’t help. he added to it in his own unintentional way by what i assume was being so consumed with his own emotions that he couldn’t even try and protect mine from him. 

couldn’t even try and protect me from how badly that would amplify redacted.:’s abandonment in the coming weeks, or redacted’s moving away, or his stupid little disloyalty stunt. 

didn’t even realize how angry i would’ve had to be to block him from me. stop him from having access to me because of how fucking badly it hurt to keep trying to fix something that every time i’d approach, i’d be met with LONG. FUCKING. STREAMS. OF SILENCE. 

say something, i wanted to scream. but i could only mutter it in my own head. over. and over. and over. and over. 

i’ve been so fucking crazy these past few weeks since school started i’ve been literally going insane. skateboarding all over town. bruises the size of my shins covering my calves, knees, arms, thighs. staying up til 3, 4, 5, or going to sleep at 6/7 and waking up at 3, 4, 5. i’ve slept outside twice now, once in a different city. imagine that, huh. and i was alone. and no one knew. 

feel what you want about how i reacted to this situation, but understand i’m still reeling from the effects of it and coming to me to try and heal it in the way you’ve been doing is only going to see you walking up against a burning building and wondering why you’re walking away in flames. i get that you’re angry, zero, but you don’t need to fucking hate me when all i ever wanted to do was love you, you fool. i never wanted it to hurt like this, so you can stop pretending i’ve been reveling in it. i’m fucking aching too, and i’d actually kill to be able to take this weight off my shoulders. i wouldn’t ever have broken your heart on purpose. fuck. stop taking it out on me like i would’ve after i fought so fucking hard to protect it. 

[devildomdisaster]

Idk if you read Lore Olympus but chapter 129 gave me an angsty request idea.

So Persephone, who’s the goddess of spring, goes into a hibernation-like state and when her emotions go out of control, she ends up growing her hair really long and her body sprouts a lot of plants from her; to the point of covering her and whatever area she’s in with her plants.

So I would like to request head cannons of the Brothers reacting to an MC who gets really sad whenever the brothers insult or threaten them and after several weeks of being berated by demons it causes MC to shut down and go to their room but mistakes a comfort spell with a plant curse that causes their hair and plants to grow continuously long. The plants fill up MC’s room and while they would normally be surprised at the mistake, they don’t care any more. They allow the plants to to grow, even wrap around their neck and body, and hopes the curse kills them off before the brothers notice as they go in the “hibernation” stage of the curse (The curse causes the victim to grow a lot of plants and vines from their body until they die, which can take a few days).

I’m sorry for being so long and descriptive, I just wanna see the Bros panic and feel guilty that MC felt pushed to do this to themselves but I understand if you don’t want to do it

I don't read Lore Olympus but you described the situation really well so I hope this is something close to what you wanted.

Comfort spell gone wrong

Lately, nothing seemed to be good enough for the demons. No matter what you did one of them would find something to berate you for.

“Mc, your grades are subpar even for an exchange student. You’ll have to try harder in order to not be a disappointment to Diavolo and myself.” Lucifer warned over breakfast.

“Mc, you burned dinner. You should learn to be a better cook.” Beel grumbled. As if you had ever seen any of these ingredients before ending up in the Devildom.

Even Mammon seemed to be in a particularly unpleasant mood. A never-ending string of complaints about how hard it is to protect an ordinary human. “Geez, you’re such a hassle human.”

Taking refuge in the library to study and to give Mammon a break from you proved disastrous and nearly deadly. Somehow you’d managed to spill your cup of tea all over an old somewhat rare text after Asmo had barged in and startled you. Your string of bad luck continued when Satan rounded the corner and saw the soggy tea-stained pages you’d been trying to decipher. In his fit of rage, he’d called you several unpleasant names and asked if you were “capable of doing anything right or if all humans are as stupid as you?” You’d left as quickly as you were able to avoid any more of his wrath.

No matter where you went you kept walking in on Belphie napping and without fail he’d say something nasty to you, that would make tears burn the backs of your eyes.

Levi had angrily called you a “useless normie,” who he wished would “never come back.” and had pushed you from his room with a slam of his door.

Even Asmo who usually just ignored you when he was upset found every reason imaginable to critique your every aspect. Physical and personality. Not a single one of which made you feel any more than worthless.

So was it any wonder when at the end of a long week you’d locked yourself in your room and decided to try that comfort spell you’d heard Solomon talking about? It seemed simple enough. But then your tears had blurred your vision as you’d recited the words and your Latin was still shaky at best. But it was just a few lines! And there was no way you were going to go to one of the brothers for comfort when they had seemed perfectly happy to make you miserable for the last few weeks.

You’d read the spell aloud and curled up hoping that the spell would kick in and you’d feel even just the slightest bit better. The blinding green light and sudden drop in energy was the first and only warning the spell had gone wrong. But being new to magic meant it still sapped your energy, so you didn’t stop to think something might be wrong. By the time you realized what was happening, everything was out of control. Plants had begun to sprout from your skin and the floor around you, growing and growing. With each inch they grew you felt your exhaustion creep up and consume you. You were just so tired. Your eyes fluttered closed. This was wrong! You forced your eyes open again. You need to fix this. The spell! But a short nap wouldn’t hurt, would it? You’d have more energy after you woke up. Then you could go get one of the brothers. Satan would know how to fix this. Or Lucifer! He’d clean the spell up easily. Yes, after you woke up…

Lucifer hadn’t seen you all weekend. He figures you’re most likely studying. But you don’t show up for meals and none of his brothers have seen you either… and oh Diavolo! He can feel the spell from the dining room. How did he not notice sooner? The cold pulling sensation of the spell, like it was sucking the warmth and life from its surroundings.

When Lucifer reaches your door Mammon is already there. Knocking and shouting for you, but there's no answer. He all but breaks your door down, his brothers behind him, and finds you at the center of the spell. Unresponsive and covered in the plants using your energy to grow. The plants had begun climbing up the walls and twisting through your hair, sending out snow-white flowers.

“Beel! Don’t!” Lucifer warns as Beel reaches out to pull a handful of plants from you. “We don’t know what did this and what will happen to Mc if we just rip the spell off like that.”

“Lucifer, Mc did this to themself,” Satan points to the open spellbook. “It looks like they got a comfort spell mixed up.”

Fortunately, your last tired thoughts were correct and Lucifer is able to break the spell quickly. You wake surrounded by the brothers.

Lucifer:

All this happened for a comfort spell? Because you didn’t feel like you could come to him, to any of them?

He’s so sorry Mc. Enough that as he leans down to pick you up out of the mess of withering plants you can feel tears fall onto your face.

“Nothing I did was good enough for you Lucifer. Any of you. I just wanted to feel… I just wanted-”

His heart breaks when he realizes this is his brother’s fault, his fault. “You are always good enough, Mc. Much more than I could ever ask you to be, and if I ever made you feel like you weren't. No, the fact that I made you feel like you weren’t, means I have been truly terrible.”

You’re choking back your own tears now and you curl further into his arms as he carries you down the hall. “You said I was a disappointment.”

“My dear Mc, you have never been, nor could you ever be a disappointment to me. Forgive me for ever making you feel as if you were.”

Lucifer takes you to his bathroom and draws you a bath to wash away the last of the plant matter from your body.

Afterward, he’ll bring you anything you ask for. He wants to wrap you in his arms but doesn’t want to push you, so he asks softly if he can hold you.

He’ll spend weeks trying to make this up to you, even after you forgive him, he’ll be sure to tell you how much he loves you more often than he did before.

Mammon:

Shit human! Why didn’t you come to him? He loves you so much and oh. He made you feel like a burden.

How could he be so stupid when he knows how his brothers make him feel?

Mammon begs for your forgiveness in front of all his brothers.

“Please can ya forgive me? I never meant to make ya feel like a burden. You're the only human I- I want to protect you Mc. I’m so sorry.”

Mammon helps you up and since your room is covered in plants he offers to let you sleep in his room for the night.

He wraps you in blankets and brushes the hair from your face with trembling fingertips.

There are still a few stubborn leaves sticking to your face and in your hair so Mammon takes a warm washcloth and wipes them from your face before gently untangling the plants from your hair.

You’ll be getting little gifts and tokens of mammon’s affections for the foreseeable future.

Levi:

He threw you out of his room when you came to him for comfort and the guilt at seeing you almost die because of it is eating him alive.

He feels frozen

Maybe you would be better off without an otaku shut-in like him. He starts avoiding you like the plague.

You start to think that Levi is so disgusted with the fact that you did that spell that he doesn’t want anything to do with you anymore.

Despite this Levi still checks up on you. He wants to know that you are ok, he just does it without you knowing.

He’ll ask his brothers about you and discreetly glance at you during meals to make sure you’re eating enough and look healthy.

A few days later when your favorite and manga anime start showing up outside your door you confront Levi. “Are you mad at me? Do you just not want to be around me after what happened? Levi, I miss you!”

He is shook, and he can’t believe he messed up so badly.

He’s happy that he can invite you to hang out again, and he makes sure to spend long nights gaming or watching movies with you until you fall asleep against him. He’ll even stutter out how much he treasures his time with you, blushing fiercely all the while.

Satan:

Satan feels anger swell up inside him. How could he have let this happen? How could no one have seen how upset you were?

Once the spell has been dissolved he is at your side instantly. Brushing vines from your skin. His fingers are shaking in anger but his touch is so gentle.

When both you and your room are cleaned up Satan sits at your bedside, book in hand, reading to you.

He just wants to be close to you now. He wants you to know how much he cares about you but is still too worked up to get his thoughts out properly.

Eventually, his thoughts calm and he stops reading in the middle of a sentence. “Mc, I am so sorry. I never meant to make you feel unwanted. Every day I spend with you is infinitely better than a day without you. I know the spell was a mistake but… we almost lost you. I almost lost you.”

He wants to talk about what pushed you to do this. He won’t push but he really does think that he will be better able to help you if he understands.

Satan makes sure to spend more time with you from now on. He makes a conscious effort to check his temper at the door and be with you when you need him.

Sometimes he’ll just read to you until one of you confides in the other in quiet voices.

Asmo:

As you blink your eyes open Asmo gently brushes some plants from your cheek.

You are so pale and his heart breaks as you flinch away from him. You feel like a mess and you know you must look like one too so curl your body away from him trying to hide. Trying to avoid his critical gaze.

This is the moment Asmo knows he screwed up.

He draws his hand back, for a moment, before reaching out to you again. Cupping your cheek and wiping your tears away with perfectly manicured hands.

Lucifer has him take you to his bathroom to clean up while the rest of the brothers work to clear the plants from your room.

Asmo is quiet for a long while as he untangles plants from your hair.

“You’re so loved, Mc,” he says softly. “You are.” he insists when you shake your head no.

“More than you could ever know, and it’s our fault for not telling you. My fault for not making you feel worthy.”

After this incident, Asmo wants to make sure you know how beautiful you are. He starts self-care days once a week that soon turn into whole family affairs. Each week different combinations of his brother attend and you all work to pamper each other.

Asmo makes sure nothing like this happens again, he never wants to be part of the reason you feel unloved ever again.

Beel:

At first, Beel thinks you did this on purpose. Once the brothers realize you messed up the spell he is less angry but no less distraught.

Once you wake up, he wants to take you to get desserts. He’s heard humans eat Chocolate/ other sweets to feel better. And this makes sense to him, food does make everything better.

But you don’t want to go to Madam Screams or the kitchen to make your own. You’re still so tired. Not to mention embarrassed that you screwed the spell up this bad.

And now they are all staring at you like they care so much when none of them had any time to notice how they were making you feel before.

When you become unresponsive to the brother’s questions and apologies Beel scoops you up in his arms and walks away with you.

Something about the way he holds you close to his chest and his warmth causes you to finally let go.

You bury your face in his shirt to muffle your crying.

“I just… I felt so alone! And… I...but no one” you gasp out shakily between sobs.

Beel soothes you with soft murmuring as he gently cards his fingers through your hair and strokes down your back.

Once your crying quiets he starts to speak “Don’t do that again. You can always come to me Mc. I’m so sorry you felt like you couldn’t”

Belphie:

Belphie thinks it’s a joke at first. “Man, how could they mess up this bad?”

Then he sees Lucifer’s panicked expression and it hits him how serious this is.

Belphie is immediately by your side. Hands frantically feeling your wrist for a pulse.

After Lucifer breaks the spell and your eyes flutter open Belphie is filled with relief until a wave of guilt washes through him.

He can’t believe he fucked up so badly again. Sure this time he didn’t directly cause you physical harm, but he did play a role in causing you to almost die again.

“I am so very sorry Mc, I never meant to hurt you.”

He does everything he can think of to make it up to you. Anything you ask him for, as long as it’s within his power, is yours. No questions asked.

He asks permission just to hold your hand for weeks afterward as if he thinks you’ll come to your senses and decide you don’t want anything to do with him.

He wants to comfort you so bad.

To make sure you don’t feel like this again Belphie pulls you away to nap with him as often as he can get away with it. Most likely only a few times a week (much less often than he would like). Sometimes he uses this time just to talk with you. Others you really do nap, and Belphie curls himself around you. Occasionally he enters your dreams while you nap together to make sure no nightmares can touch you.

[alrightberries]

Hi! So like what if Levi & F!Reader are like cuddling, and Levi over slept (maybe misses a meetings?) and Eren and his squad have to go find him and they see Reader and Levi all cuddly and stuffs. AND THEN Levi become super pissed bc they went into his quarters without permission and blah blah blah (you can decide the rest lolll) basically crack, fluff and humor lol. Please& thank uuu

the short end of the stick

❈ pairing: levi ackerman x reader

❈ genre: fluff, semi-crack ❈ word count: 3.3k

❈ summary: In which the 104th cadets were not prepared to find out that the terrifying and ever-intimidating Captain Levi... is a little spoon.

❈ trigger warnings: implied sex. brief mentions of blood and death. profanity

a/n: i made the reader gender neutral, hope y’all don’t mind. i had too much fun writing this and got kinda carried away. this is my first request ever and i’m glad that i finished it. enjoy!

Eren was shaking.

Sweat dripped down his forehead and his knuckles turned white from how hard he was clenching his fists, nails piercing his skin so harshly he swore it would draw blood. His heart angrily pumped inside his chest, every beat so strong he nearly anticipated for it to jump out of his ribcage at any given moment.

Fear.

He felt fear.

He puts a name to the feeling and it doesn’t make him feel any better. Ears ringing, lungs breathing rapidly as he tries to steady his fear-induced heart. He was hyperventilating. His eyebrows crease from his anxiousness and he feels his knees weaken, daring to give out beneath him. Was he actually shaking right now? He couldn’t even tell.

Vulnerable.

He felt vulnerable.

Eren had seen many horrors throughout his short lifetime. He saw the colossal titan rear its ugly head over Wall Maria as its foot smashed into the wall’s gates, debris flying throughout the district as a boulder crushed his home with his mother still inside. He saw his mother get snapped in half and eaten by a titan right before his very eyes at a tender age as he sat by and could do nothing but watch.

He was orphaned. Forced to grow up too soon, too fast just so he could say he survived. His entire district was left homeless, forced to become refugees as titans rampaged throughout the outer walls, forced plow the fields to combat the famine and hunger, forced to have 250,000 people go on what was essentually a suicide mission to appease the growing population.

He trained in the military. He trained for three gruesome years and had his physical and mental psyche crushed into dust beneath the boots of the commanding officer, only to be thrown into a battle—completely unprepared— with the titans once more before he could even graduate.

He saw his friends, his family, his brothers and sisters in arms get eaten. Killed. Murdered. Swatted away like flies by the very beasts he swore he’d kill.

And yet, nothing could prepare him for this.

Nothing could prepare him for the blood-pumping, adrenaline-induced terror at the mere thought of having to carry out his mission.

Nothing could prepare him for having to wake up Captain Levi from his nap.

Jean groaned. “Dammit, just fucking do it already.”

Eren is snapped out of his reverie, suddenly reminded that he wasn’t alone. His fellow soldiers stood behind him.

“Well if you’re so brave then why don’t you do it, horse-face?” He grits back, turning around and clenching his fists at his side.

He glimpses around the hallway and his eyes loom over his teammates’ amused faces, each painted with a shit-eating grin. Everyone was relieved that they weren’t the ones tagged with waking up the Captain from his nap.

Rumor around the base is, the last person from his original squadron (may they rest in peace) who had to wake up Captain Levi almost had his ear sliced off. Levi wasn’t even carrying any gear or anywhere near a knife.

One look at Mikasa told Eren that even she was glad she didn’t get picked for this task, and he shudders at the thought of being the poor bastard who had to lose his ear just so the Captain wouldn’t be late for his meeting. He quite liked having both of his ears attached to his head, thank you very much.

“It’s your task.”

“Yeah but why is it my task?!”

“Because you drew the short end of the stick, genius.” Jean replies easily.

Oh. Right.

“There has to be something we can do! Another plan. One that doesn’t involve waking up Captain Levi.” His eyes are pleading as he looks at his fellow soldiers, yet none of them seem willing to switch places with him.

Dammit. They were really going to make him work for it.

All his dignity is thrown out the window as Eren quickly gets on his knees and starts begging his friends, the shit-eating grins on their faces turning into wicked smiles as they watch him beg for mercy.

“Mikasa? What about you? Are you seriously going to let them send me to my death?” He asks, but Mikasa simply turns her head the other way as she speaks.

“He won’t kill you. Just sever your ear.”

Eren’s eye twitches.

She looks at him once more. “I’ll pick up your ear and ask the medical unit to sew it back on you. I’m sure they’ll understand.”

As proof, she holds up a glass jar and some tweezers. She had gloves on her hands.

God, he was going to kill his teammates.

Jean, apparently fed up with Eren’s incessant whining, marches towards him and grabs him by the collar, forcing him to stand up.

“Yeager, you trained in the military for three years. You’re a goddam titan shifter. You got kidnapped and held hostage. Three times. Waking up a growth-stunted man won’t be the last of you.”

Jean’s words are reassuring but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. No, his eyes are still amused. Very amused.

Scratch that, he wasn’t going to kill all his comrades. Just Jean. Jean and his extremely punchable horse-face.

Before he could even reply, Eren is shoved inside the Captain’s office with a quick “Off you go!” and the door is quickly shut behind him.

Fear.

This was truly fear.

Captain Levi’s office is empty, Eren notices. It’s spotless as always and tall shelves line every wall, each filled to the brim with books and documents. A lone door sits at the far right wall.

The Captain’s bedroom.

Slowly, with bathed breaths, he forces his legs to walk closer to the door that held his fate. Briefly, Eren thinks about getting some protective ear covers (just in case) but he quickly shoves that idea aside when he realizes that Jean and Conny were likely blocking the door from the outside.

That, and he concludes that the Captain would just break another part of his body. Maybe his hands. He didn’t need ears for handling ODM gear but he did need his hands.

“Captain?” Eren’s voice is weak but clear as he knocks on the door. “Captain Levi, you’re late for your meeting.”

He holds his breath for a few seconds, and there’s no response. He tries once more.

“Captain,” he repeats, louder this time. “Captain, you really need to wake up. Commander Erwin says your attendance is required for the meeting to start.”

But there’s still no response.

His hands are shaky and he’s still extremely nervous, but he knew Captain Levi’s presence was urgent to the meeting. Classified, Commander Erwin had said when he asked what it was about. 

The third time Eren repeats his fruitless endeavors, he realizes that Captain Levi really wasn’t waking up any time soon.

He runs back to the door he came in from.

“Let me out!” He yells, hands throttling the doorknob as he tries to pull the door open but just as he suspected, Jean and Conny are sealing the exit and pulling at the doorknob as well.

“Let me out, dammit! Captain Levi won’t wake up, I don’t wanna die— just let me out!”

His feet are pressed up against the wall at this point and he manages to yank the door open by a few mere inches. A quick glimpse outside confirms his worse fears: all his friends are holding onto the doorknob as well, trying to keep the door closed. Even Mikasa.

He’d never felt so betrayed.

“You got this Eren!” His eyes drift to the back of the group where Sasha was smiling at him with a cheeky grin. “I’m sure the Captain won’t hurt you too badly when you wake him up.”

“No, fuck that! He’ll murder me and say it was because I went ape shit in titan form. He won’t even get arrested!”

It was when he made eye contact with Mikasa when he realized what true betrayal felt like.

“Good luck, Eren.” “No, don’t—!” Mikasa yanks the door close with one strong pull and he falls to the floor, on his ass.

The room is quite once more (save for the cheeky giggles on the other side of the door) and Eren brushes himself off as he stands up. He eyes the door to the Captain’s bedroom and he breathes in deeply when he comes to terms with what he has to do to wake the Captain from his deep slumber. He has to go inside.

He finds himself in front of the door once again, and this time his knocks are a little louder, a little more unsure, as he speaks. “Captain? I don’t think you’re waking up soon. I’m coming in.”

Slowly, he tells himself. Slowly.

Eren wasn’t sure what to expect when he opened the door to Captain Levi’s quarters. Maybe a torture chamber. Maybe swords and skeletons on the wall. Maybe a book on How To Murder With One Glare on a coffee table. He didn’t know.

But oddly, he thinks as he glances around, the Captain’s bedroom is... normal. The room’s dark, with its curtains drawn and the candles unlit. Tall shelves holding an impressive collection of books still line a portion of the walls. A bed is pressed up against the wall opposite the door, and there are two lumps underneath the blankets—

Wait.

Two lumps.

Two.

Captain Levi’s in bed with someone?

“Captain Levi,” Eren quietly calls out. He wonders who the hell managed to catch the Captain’s attention... or if someone even caught his attention at all. Captain Levi could just be hugging a pillow, he reasons. But Eren’s curiosity overtakes his fears and his legs start to walk closer towards the bed. “Captain?”

The blanket was pulled over the two sleeping lumps, and Eren gently tugs it down to reveal their faces.

No way.

No fucking way.

Briefly, Eren is speechless. His words get caught in his throat, hand frozen mid-air as he marvels at the sight of Humanity’s Strongest Soldier cuddled up within the arms of his lover. His normally stoic face is gone, replaced by relaxed eyes and a slightly ajar mouth, one cheek puffed up as it’s squished into his lover’s chest and his head is nuzzled into the crook of their neck. His arms disappear underneath the blankets, but judging by the fact that his lover’s arms were around him, Eren surmised that the Captain’s arms were most likely wrapped around his lover as well.

He looked innocent— cute, almost, and if Eren didn’t have to train under him everyday he might have actually believed that the Captain’s innocent sleeping face could be taken at face value.

Eren recognizes you, as well. He’s seen you around the base with your own squadron, an elite soldier with your own team of other elite soldiers. You’re known around the base as the squad leader who works their team to the ground, training your members so hard that they genuinely considered going to Captain Levi for comfort. But it wasn’t for naught, of course. Your squad’s survived longer than Captain Levi’s (again, may they rest in peace), barely making it out complete when the fiasco with the Female Titan occurred.

“Oi, Eren.” A voice behind him speaks, and Eren is briefly caught off guard as he turns around and makes eye contact with his comrades. Most likely, they got impatient with waiting for him and decided to see if he’d been murdered already.

Great, so now they decide they weren’t scared of going inside the Captain’s room.

“What’s taking so long?” Jean asks.

Eren is still speechless, opting to instead shakily point his finger towards the bed where Levi lay wrapped in your arms.

“H-he’s... he’s—“ “He’s what?”

He gulps and sighs deeply, speaking out so quietly his friends almost didn’t hear, speaking out in a mere shaky whisper as he utters his words.

“He’s a little spoon.”

Chaos is what Eren would use to describe what happened next. His comrades immediately jumped to stand next to him and take a look at the sight on bed, crowding around them as if they were a soap opera.

“Oh my god, he looks so...” Sasha starts in awe, hands on her cheeks and stars in her eyes but unsure how to finish her words.

Eren nods his head, understanding her speechlessness. “Innocent.”

Silently, his friends nod as well. But he couldn’t just stand here and gawk at Captain Levi’s sleeping form, he came here with a mission. “We need to wake him up. He’s already really late.” He says, more to himself than to his friends. He doesn’t wait for his comrades to exit the room as he gently places a hand on the Captain’s shoulders to shake him awake.

“Captain Levi—“

Eren learns his mistake too late as Levi’s eyes immediately snap open, hand clamping down on Eren’s and twisting it behind his back to disarm him.

“Eren!” Mikasa yells behind him, making a move to free him from Levi’s iron clad grip. From the corner of his eyes, Eren sees the person lying down next to Levi quickly sit up and throw something silver, flying past his comrades and towards Mikasa’s head, embedding itself deep within the wood next to her face.

Eren stares at his friends, all silent, frozen with fear, and rooted to their spots as their mouths hang open.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Levi sneers, pushing down on Eren’s arm.

“C-captain, you’re late for the—“ “Holy shit, we’re late for the meeting.” You cut in, eyes wide in realization.

The Captain briefly glimpses at you and clicks his tongue as he releases Eren from his grip, the young soldier immediately slumping to the ground in relief. His arms and legs felt like jello and he could already feel himself melting into the wooden floor.

“Can someone explain to me why you brats thought it would be a good idea to enter my private quarters?” Levi glares. “Without my permission?”

Oh shit. They didn’t think this through.

A cold shiver runs down the soldier’s spines as they unanimously realize their mistake, something that Eren undoubtedly would’ve felt as well if he wasn’t too busy gawking at the realization that Captain Levi was shirtless (probably naked underneath the sheets), and you were shirtless as well (also probably naked underneath the sheets).

Levi catches Eren’s eyes staring at you, and he silently pulls the blanket over your chest and up to your collarbones without breaking his glare at the cadets.

Fuck. Eren thinks, eyes snapping to the ground as a blush creeps up his neck. Captain Levi’s definitely going to cut off both my ears now.

Conny, apparently already cracking under the pressure, flails his arms and yells as he tries to make a run for the door. Before anyone could even blink, another silver blur whizzes through the air, stabbing the wood directly in front of Conny as he freezes.

It was a knife. A fucking butter knife. Why the hell the Captain and his lover keep a butterknife next to them on the bed is something Eren doesn’t want to know.

“Since none of you lot have tongues,” Levi speaks. He’s not going to get an explanation soon. “We’ll discuss punishment later. For now,” He stands up, grabbing a still flustered Eren by the collar and dragging him towards the door, pushing out the rest of the team as well.

Eren doesn’t have time to be relieved about the fact that Captain Levi was not, for a fact, naked and was wearing black boxers. He was too busy getting pushed out the Captain’s bedroom and dragged through the office before finally getting thrown out into the hallway.

“For now, you leave me alone. I have a meeting to attend to.”

Levi slams the door shut at his awestruck soldiers, breathing in a frustrated sigh as he rests his hand on his forehead. He was getting a headache. He feels arms wrap around him from behind, hands resting on his chest. He sighs once more, this time in content, as he leans into your touch.

“Hey,” you kiss neck. “Thought you said you locked the door.”

“I did.” He turns around, still in your arms, and gently places his hands on your face as he kisses your nose. “Someone must’ve accidentally unlocked it when they were trying to grab onto something. Y’know, when they were getting fucked from behind.”

You chuckle. “Well, I’m sure that someone probably got sweet talked into getting fucked against the door.”

You break away from his arms after giving him a kiss, making your way back inside Levi’s bedroom, no doubt to get dressed for the meeting.

He stares at you as you walk, still naked and looking gorgeous. His face may be stoic but his heart was leaping, the gold ring on your left hand that matched his own glimmering in the light.

Your head peaks out from behind his bedroom door. “Round two before the meeting?” You ask cheekily.

Levi rolls his eyes as he makes his way to the bedroom as well, patting your bum as he passes by. “No. We’re already late.”

Eren clutches the pillow to his head, exhausted from the laps he’d done. He glances around the room, eyeing the tired faces of his comrades.

As punishment for invading your privacy, Captain Levi assigned them laps around the base until sundown plus two weeks of stable duty. As punishment for invading his privacy, Captain Levi deemed them unworthy of having their own private space and made the entire squadron bunk together in the small room beside his own. 

Well, the entire squadron except for the Captain himself, at least.

Eren was pretty sure the room they were made to sleep in indefinitely was supposed to be a supply closet of some kind, but it fitted enough bunk beds for the entire team and was deemed a worthy location to carry out the rest of their punishment.

“How long do we have to sleep here?” Sasha asked dreadfully, hands covering her ears in attempts to block out the noises coming from the other room. The sound of a squeaky mattress and a wooden bed slamming against the adjacent wall continued.

“Until we learn our lesson,” Jean quotes the Captain. He himself looked extremely tired but he wasn’t trying to cover his ears like the rest of them were, undoubtedly because he’d already given up on getting a good night’s rest if the bags underneath his eyes were anything to go by.

“I don’t even care how long we have to sleep here anymore.” Conny interjects tiredly. “I just want to know when they’ll ever stop.”

As if to prove his point, a moan is heard through the walls. The soldiers flinch, still not accustomed to the sound. Mikasa silently runs her hands through Eren’s hair to calm him down.

“They’ve been at it for hours,” Jean whispers in horror. “How much stamina do those two have?”

Armin sighs, the bags under his eyes feeling heavier by the second. “They’re elite soldiers who’ve trained for years. They have more stamina than all of us combined.”

The whole room heaves out a collective groan, finally accepting that they weren’t getting any sleep tonight. 

In the other room, Captain Levi bangs his fist against the shared wall. “Oi,” he calls out. “Shut up, you brats. We can hear you.”

Levi thrusts his hips, eyes glancing down at your pleasure-struck face as he grinds into you more. The action causes you to throw your head back and let out a desperate moan, finger nails scratch down his back. He grabs your hands to pin them to the sides of your head, leaning down to whisper “Not too harsh, darling. We don’t want you leaving marks now, do we?” He continues his pace, the bed’s wooden frame slamming against the wall as he once again speaks to his soldiers.

“We have thin walls, y’know.”

alrightberries © 2020. do not modify or repost.

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[taestefully-in-luv]

Always You | JJK (Seven)

Summary: you and Jungkook have been best friends since freshmen year of college, there’s a lot of unsaid feelings and tension but neither make a move. what happens when his friend Taehyung (also your crush) needs a fake girlfriend?

Pairing: Jungkook x Female reader

Genre: friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, slight slow burn, roommate au, college au, SMUT (starting ch2), fluff, angst (in later chapters) slight crack, lots of drama

Word Count: 10.1k

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, sexual tension (!!!), mention of erection, heated make out, marking, grinding, mentions of suicide:( (If this makes you uncomfortable pls skip), mentions of cheating, quick blowjob, swallowing,

Notes: sorry this chapter is shorter than the last! But we only have 2 chapters left guys! And they are long!!! Sorry in advance lol. Hope you guys enjoy this chapter:) Anyway feel free to send an ask if you want to be added to the taglist or just want to chat about the story:)

Taglist: @mooniyooni @thisartemisnevermisses @giadalin @kookiebunny097 @cosmosjk @moonchild1 @just-jeon @anpanman-sonyeondan @starlight-night0 @yessii-i @apollukee @mikasaredscarf1 @kaye-rosales @bunnyjeonjk @dyriddle @seagulljk @hass-mich-los @peachy-skz0325 @wonusbitch @not-your-lion @flowersgirl02 @justinetingball @fiantomartell

© taestefully-in-luv

Previous

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jungkook runs his finger through your hair, his mouth hot on your neck as he leaves behind what feels like a million, slow kisses. You taste sweet and he’s reminded of the first time he got to do this with you and his heart swells at the memory. He feels you grind against him, making him impossibly harder as he grinds back. Your moans fill his ears and it sounds like a chorus of sweet, sweet music to him, he can’t help but grin into his kisses. Suddenly, the image of him kissing down your throat becomes blurry and the sound of your whines echo in the distance. He must be waking up.

Jungkook feels you hovering over him with shocked eyes and he can’t help but wonder what’s gotten into you. He can feel his head beginning to throb from the inevitable hang over that wishes to visit and he raises a hand over it. You continue to look down at him and that’s when he notices it. Them. The hickeys that spread across your skin and he goes absolutely pale.

He looks back at you with wide eyes but he can’t help but feel pride bloom all throughout his body as he looks at how he has marked you but those petals quickly shrivel up when he realizes how badly he must have messed up.

“Oh fuck.” He says under his breath.

“Yeah. ‘Oh fuck’” you repeat back.

Jungkook lifts himself up, leaning on his arms as he takes another look at the bruises that cover your skin. He releases a shaky breath contemplating what to say.

“Drunk.” His eyes slide to the side, “We were really…drunk.”

You narrow your eyes for a split second then look at him with ease,

“Yeah…right…drunk.” You quickly agree.

Jungkook and you share a moment of a silence, admiring one another’s work on the other. You hesitantly reach out, your fingers coming in contact with the side of his neck, brushing against his soft skin.

“This ones huge…I’m sorry.” You say, not sounding entirely sorry. A slight smirk graces your features.

“Ha, you don’t look very sorry.” Jungkook grabs a hold of your hand, “Plus, you don’t even want to see what I did to you.”

You retreat your hand back to touch your own skin, you shuffle out of the sheets and stand from the bed. You walk towards the little mirror over by Jungkook’s closet and take a look.

You audibly gasp, the purple marks that spread across your neck and collarbone are ones for the books.

“What the hell Jeon! How am I supposed to walk out of here today! Everyone’s going to see this!” you gesture towards yourself. “Oh my god.” You turn back to look in the mirror. “This is horrible.”

Jungkook leaves the bed to join you at the mirror,

“Holy shit.” He looks at himself, “I’m not any better!” he throws his hands up but he’s laughing. He’s fucking laughing! You watch in disbelief as he chuckles the fucking day away.

You watch him and you can’t help but start to laugh too. This is just so ridiculous.

“Wait wait…” Jungkook calms down, suddenly becoming serious. “We didn’t do anything else…right?”

“Why are you looking at me like that? Shouldn’t you also remember?”

“You’re the girl! Can’t you like tell…if we…” He motions his hands between your bodies.

“Oh my god. No, we didn’t do anything else. Do you really not remember everything?” you ask with a frown.

“I feel like I do…but I was just being you know, sure.”

Jungkook wishes he could remember everything in great detail but the reality is he was really drunk and some moments are hazier than others. Which is a fucking shame because he wants to remember the first moment you caressed his skin to his lips on yours.

“Do you remember everything?”

“I remember enough.” You admit.

You were drunk, yes. But the memory of you and Jungkook is almost crystal clear and fresh in your mind.

“Bottom line is…we were really drunk and drunk people do stuff like that all the time.” Your hands go to your hips, “I mean, I’ve literally made out with Trina before. Don’t feel special.” You wink, your tone is light and teasing and Jungkook finds you amusing.

“Just two drunk idiots.” Jungkook grins. “So no acting weird.”

“I won’t be weird, will you?”

“I’ll try my best.” He chuckles.

“I’m serious Jungkook, we can be cool about this…” you give him a smile, “It’s not like we haven’t—”

“Stop…” Jungkook lifts his hand up, “I get it.” He chuckles awkwardly.

Your small smile fades, your heart pinches. He never wants to talk about it, did he hate it that much?

“Right…” You begin walking closer towards him and he steps back, your heart pinching once again. “Well, lend me a fucking turtle neck or something so I can get outta here.”

Jungkook smirks down at you as he walks to his closet.

“Fine. Hopefully I have two…I have a black and a white one right?” he asks you from inside his closet.

“Shit, I think I have your white one at my place…”

“I don’t think Nick owns any…”

“Why do you need one? Just stay home today.”

“I’m supposed to meet Vanessa later…”

Your heart doesn’t just pinch this time, it sinks. Deep down into your lower belly until its falling to the ground.

“Oh.”

“I’ll find a scarf or some shit.”

“I’ll bring you your white one, don’t worry.”

“Really? Thanks y/n.” Jungkook walks out of his closet smiling at you, his black turtle neck draped over his arm. “Here.” He hands it over to you.

“Turn around.”

Jungkook raises a brow at you until realization hits him.

“Okay.” He whispers out.

You quickly change into the long sleeve shirt and let Jungkook know he can turn back around.

“I feel like I should make you breakfast or something…” Jungkook scratches the back of his neck, standing here awkwardly.

“Really Jungkook?” you laugh out, “And what would you make me?”

“I think Nick has some toaster waffles.” Jungkook offers with a grin.

“I’m good. I’m gonna head out but I will be back with your shirt!”

“Sounds good, I’ll walk you out.”

You two nod at one another, exiting the bedroom and walking towards the front door. You stop to say goodbye and Jungkook steps into your space, wrapping his arms around you.

“See you in a bit.” He whispers.

“Yeah.” You pull back and smile at him. “See you in a bit.”

~~~~~

“Why the fuck are you wearing a black turtle neck in the middle of August?”

It’s Trina, if you haven’t guessed. It’s the first thing you hear when you step into your apartment, she is over to hang with Holly you’re assuming.

“I was a bit chilly.” You lie through your teeth, giving her a strained smile.

“Take it off.” Trina commands.

“Trina…” Holly warns softly, she’s got her hand on Trina’s shoulder and you can’t help but giggle.

“Wait, your date was last night, right? With this ‘Min Yoongi’? Ooooh, did things go well?” Trina whistles out.

“It wasn’t a date, I already told you…” you whine as you walk into the living room, sitting on the sofa.

“But it did go well! I had a really nice time.” You admit softly, smiling at the memory of your ‘thank you outing’. “He’s so cool and so sweet.” Your eyes light up, “He owns the record shop a few shops away from the bakery!”

“Owns it? Like it’s his?” Holly asks, she shares a pleased smile with Trina.

“Yes, like it’s his.”

“He sounds like a man. Marry him.” Trina gives you an aggresive thumbs up.

“Chill dude.” You laugh. “I think he and I could become really good friends…and…”

“And?”

“Well, you never know.” Your eyes shift to the side as you smirk. “The world is full of mystery.”

Trina smiles brightly, “So you’re saying there’s a chance?”

“I’m saying that there’s not not a chance…”

“I’LL TAKE IT!” Trina lifts up Holly’s hand and high fives herself with it. “Whatever isn’t Jungkook.” She finishes with a grin and you feel your whole body go stiff.

“Trina…” you frown, “I really don’t like when you say stuff like that. Jungkook is a good person. He just…he messed up, yes. But he’s trying.”

“He hurt you.” Trina’s tone goes serious. “How could you forgive him for that?”

“I’m trying too. But I am able to try because I know him…he wouldn’t just hurt me without him having his own reasons…and I love him, T. Like as friends, of course but also…”

“I know.” Trina goes soft, “I know.”

Holly clasps her hands together, “And that’s that! How about we make some food and chit chat some more over some mimosas!”

“I love that idea.” You say.

“But seriously girl, please go change out of that turtle neck…you’re making me sweat just looking at you.” Trina says.

Right, the turtle neck. You told Jungkook you would drop off his white one…well, you gotta find it first.

“Okay, but I have to run an errand first then we can hang.”

“An errand?” Both girls look at you quizzically.

“Don’t worry about it.” Great, now you sound like Jungkook.

~~~~~

Within the hour you are quickly dropping off Jungkook’s shirt off at his place and going back to yours. He answered the door in nothing but his towel again and you tried so hard not to drool. You recall the night before when your fingers were dragging down his chest and his toned stomach. You felt every ab beneath your fingertips. Fuck, that felt good. You’re home now, you shake your head trying to rid yourself of thoughts of Jungkook’s body. But with a body like that? It’s so so hard. Just like how he was…STOP. You shake off these thoughts and try to pay attention to what Holly is saying.

“—And then I turned it in anyway and still got an A!”

“That’s amazing Holly.” You say, trying to act like you weren’t just having impure thoughts.

“Yeah, you totally kick ass.” Trina says.

You girls are a few mimosas in, you feel the champagne starting to work its wonderful magic on you but unfortunately it is making you start to sweat. You want to take off this damn turtleneck.

“I’ll be right back.” You say quickly before retreating to your bedroom. You find a baggy t-shirt and slip it on. This feels much better! But god damn. These marks on your skin are something else. You rush to the bathroom and try to cover some with makeup but it’s hardly helping. Fuck.

“Welp, maybe they won’t notice.” You whisper to yourself.

You walk back out into the living room and you notice both Holly and Trina’s eyes go comically wide.

“Wow, that date did go better than you thought!” Trina starts whooping and hollering.

“Wow y/n.” Holly really does look shocked.

Okay, so maybe they did notice. You feel so self conscious all of the sudden, your hands flying up to your neck to cover yourself.

“It’s—It’s not what it looks like.” You stammer out.

“It looks like this Yoongi guy is really into marking!” Trina yells out with a grin.

“Yoongi is really into marking…” Holly eyes you with horror in her eyes.

“Yoongi! Yoongi! Yoongi!” Trina begins chanting, she looks over at Holly and lightly taps her thigh to get her to start chanting the name as well.

“Guys…” You whine into your hands, “It wasn’t Yoongi.” You must be admitting that because you’ve had a few mimosas.

Silence. The room falls undeniably quiet.

“Wait what?” Trina asks, her wide grin beginning to fade.

“Did you meet with someone else last night?” Holly begins to pry.

“Did you go to a bar or something and meet a rando?”

“Did you bump into someone on the street?”

“Did you call up and old boyfriend? An old hookup?”

“Guys!” You yell out, “I met up with Jungkook last night!”

Once again, the room goes silent.

“You what?” Trina asks plainly, “What does that have to do with the hickeys on your neck?”

“Really Trina?” your head falls into your hands, “We kind of…”

“You guys fucked? Really?” Trina’s serious tone is back.

“No! We just got really drunk and made out! That’s it!”

“But is that really it for you?” To your surprise, it’s Holly who asks this.

“It’s fine. We were just drunk. We decided not to be weird about it. And we won’t.”

“How can you be sure of that?” Trina asks, her voice gone soft.

“Because I will text him in a few days, he’s going to text back. Or I’ll call and he will answer like normal. I’ll ask to hang out or something and we will just be two friends who hang. It will go just like that!”

Except it doesn’t go like that at all. A few days pass and you decided to text Jungkook in the morning after you woke up. You don’t expect to hear back from him for a couple of hours since he will probably sleep in. But hours and hours go by and it’s the afternoon now and you still haven’t heard from him.

“You have reached the voicemail box of…” You click the end button on your phone again for like, the 6thtime. Why isn’t Jungkook answering? It’s a Wednesday afternoon, you know you remember him saying he had today off for some reason so what is he up to? Even if he was with Vanessa, would he really ignore you like this? 6 calls in a row?

You decide to try Jimin, maybe they’re together. You look him up in your ‘Favorites’ and click clack away to calling him. After several rings the boy finally answers,

“Hey.” He says somewhat out of breath, “I’m working, what’s up?”

“Hey it’s nothing really…” you begin, “But have you heard from Jungkook…? I can’t get a hold of him…”

“Huh? No? Maybe he’s just, I don’t know, busy babe.” You can hear Jimin directing some poor child of his wrong moves on the other side of the phone.

“Look, I gotta go. But just try again in a little while, okay?”

“Can you try calling him for me?”

“Huh? Uh, sure. I’ll let you know later. Love you, bye.” Jimin hangs up and you’re left with your phone to your ear, talking to no one.

It’s Wednesday evening now, you and Holly are sharing a pie while watching some weird show on Netflix that Holly insists is good. You’re three episodes in and you’re starting to wonder when the ‘good’ part happens. It’s mostly just been weird but Holly seems invested in it. You’re trying to keep your mind busy, the thought of Jungkook making you feel antsy. You just wanted to call and see if he wanted to chill together…to prove things aren’t going to be weird between you two. Is he really going to be so fucking immature? Big deal, you made out. But to go this far to ignore you? You can’t help but feel so fucking anxious. He won’t ghost you again right?

You mindlessly stick your fork in the pie repeatedly when you feel your phone buzz. Thank God, some sort of reason to look away from this show, you think.

Jimin 6:22pm

Hey, I got a hold of Jungkook…

What the hell? So he answered to Jimin?!

Jimin 6:22pm

It’s probably best to let him be today babe, today is…not a good day

You click off your phone and throw it on the cushion to your side because what the hell does that mean? Not a good day? If he’s not having a good day then shouldn’t he like, lean on you? Wait, you’re asking for too much right? You mean, you’re the one who set boundaries. But if he’s having a bad day why ignore you? You throw the fork in the pie and set it next to Holly, she looks at you mortified that you would just throw your fucking fork. You stand to your feet and start heading to your room.

“Uh, where are you going? Things are just getting good.” Holly whines.

“I’ll be back in a little while Hol, just gotta do something real quick.” You call out from behind you, entering your room to change into some clean clothes.

Once you’re ready you grab your purse and your keys and head towards the front door, and out to your car.

It’s a really quick drive to Jungkook’s apartment, he lives so close to you it’s ridiculous. He couldn’t find an apartment that was further away from his old one? Well, still…you’re grateful it’s a short drive. You wonder how you’ll confront Jungkook. He isn’t the best at opening up so you have to go about this strategically. But knowing you, you’ll be anything but strategic. It’s just with Jungkook you really have to force it out of him—whatever it is. Even then you may get nothing.

You find a parking spot a little a ways from the building, it’s a nice refreshing two minute walk to get inside to find and ride the elevator. You remember riding this elevator with nick and oh god, cringe. You cringe so fucking hard. Speak of the devil, he’s who answers the front door after your insistent knocking.

“Oh hey y/n. What’s up?” Nick’s eyes dart from you to the rest of the hallway. “Is it just you?” he asks, “Jungkook isn’t here…”

“Can I wait inside until he gets home?” you blurt out.

“Uh, sure…” Nick opens the door wider for you to enter. You breeze past him, taking off your shoes at the entrance and make your way to the couch. Damn, you are a woman on a mission.

“Can I get you some water?” Nick offers as he closes the door.

“Sure.”

Nick comes into the living room with a glass full of water and you couldn’t be more grateful. You didn’t even realize how dry your mouth has gotten, the anticipation of Jungkook’s arrival making you nervous.

“Do you know where he went?” you take the glass from Nick and gulp down like half the glass. “He hasn’t answered me all day.”

“Wait, he doesn’t know you’re here?” Nick asks in panicked surprise. “Should you really be here? He might be with Vanessa or like, coming back with her…”

“It’s fine. I’m waiting, is that okay?” you nibble on your lips, waiting for his response.

“Yeah, I guess.” Nick shrugs, “I’ll be in my room if that’s okay? You can watch whatever on TV or like, whatever.” He smiles at you, gesturing towards the TV.

“I’ll be fine Nick.” You smile back.

More than an hour passes, a god damn miserable hour of you sitting on Jungkook and Nicks couch when you finally hear the front door being unlocked. Jungkook.

You straighten up when you hear the door beginning to open, the soft creak sounding a million times louder in your ears.

Jungkook walks through and you notice he is alone, and you sigh in relief. His shoulders are slumped and his head hangs low as he takes his shoes off and you immediately sink in your spot. What’s with him? So, you stand to your feet and clear your throat and he doesn’t even flinch. He just continues walking inside, finding his way into the kitchen. You watch as he opens up a cabinet and reaches for a glass, next he’s fishing the fridge for some fresh water and filling up his cup. He takes a few sips of his water before his dark eyes find you.

“What are you doing here?” his low voice sends a shiver down your spine.

“You went ghost on me today…I was worried.” You leave the living room to walk into the kitchen as well.

“I…” he begins as he sets the glass on the counter. “I didn’t ghost you.”

“How could I be so sure?” you step closer to him, “How come you answered Jimin but not me?”

Jungkook’s eyes widen at your words, like a deer caught in headlights. He blinks at you repeatedly until he tries forming words.

“It’s nothing personal.” He settles for. “Can we talk tomorrow, y/n?”

“Where did you go today?” God, why do you sound like some weird, possessive girlfriend? You cringe at your own words.

“It doesn’t matter.” Jungkook’s eyes darken again, his voice low.

“It matters to me.”

Jungkook looks down at the floor and you notice him take a few deep breaths, like he is struggling to find a steady one.

“Talk to me, Jungkook.” You reach out to him, your fingers finding his and he flinches at your touch. “What’s wrong? Please talk to me.”

“I….” Jungkook’s voice cracks and you wish you could bring him in to hug you but you don’t. You just let him continue.

“I…have nothing to say.”

Oh. Of course. Of fucking course. Of course Jungkook chooses to stay silent. Of course he chooses not to talk to you.

“Is it Vanessa?” you finally find the courage to ask, “Did you two break—”

“No, we’re fine.” He cuts in. Jungkook frees himself from your hand and looks up at you with a strained smile, “I’m fine, y/n.”

Now, you shouldn’t feel upset. Or angry. But you do, you fucking do. It’s been almost 4 years of this same bullshit where he cannot open up to you and its starting to feel insulting.

“You’re…” you step closer to him again but he takes a step back until he’s backed into the counter. “You aren’t fine. Please talk to me, Jungkook.” You try to say calmly but you think the rage is a little evident in your voice.

“Nothing to talk about.”

“Is it because I’m a girl?”

Jungkook tilts his head to the side, not knowing what you mean by that. Yeah, that was a stupid thing to assume but you aren’t smart right now.

“You can’t confide in girls because you have trust issues? You know, because of your mom…how she left you…”

“Stop.”

“That’s it right?” You volume increases as your anger shows, “Are you fucking serious? When have I ever made you feel like you couldn’t trust me? When have I ever fucking left you?”

“Shut up.”

“No! And yeah your mom left you so you like, don’t trust girls I guess but god damn, Jungkook maybe it’s time to get over—”

“I said shut up!” Jungkook’s voice rises to a volume you have never experienced with him before.

“Have you tried looking for her?” you continue to speak, not realizing you are making everything worse.

“I know where she is.” He states, his nostrils flaring.

You flail your arms around, “Then go fucking talk to her.”

Jungkook looks at you with an unreadable expression, his shoulders to his ears and his fists balled up at his sides. He’s quiet. Too quiet. His breaths are beyond shaky and you finally notice it.

Jungkook’s eyes are glossed over and you think you may have gone too far. His lip begins trembling and he tries to speak but no words come out. He struggles to speak to you and it makes you blink at him like an idiot. Why can’t he speak?

“Jung—”

Jungkook lifts a hand up to stop you from talking any further. He inhales sharp breaths and releases shaky ones. His eyes are full of tears but none fall. He stares down at the ground just trying to do something as easy as breathing, but he falls short.

“Jung—”

“Please.” He croaks out. Jungkook walks to the couch and sits down, his head falling into his hands and you aren’t entirely sure at first but after a few moments you really realize…he is softly and quietly crying. Your Jungkook who never cries in front of anyone is sitting on his living room couch crying. You’re speechless. You also don’t know what to do. Do you try to comfort him? Do you leave him alone? But how could you leave him alone when he sits on his fucking living room couch sniffling away?

You hesitantly walk towards the sofa and take a seat next to him. He doesn’t lift his head to look at you, just continues crying into his hands. You don’t have to think about it, you reach your hand to rub soothing circles on his back and start whispering words of comfort in his ear.

Several moments pass when Jungkook finally lifts his head from his hands, but he still doesn’t look at you.

“Mom…” he clears his throat. “Mom didn’t just leave us. She left everything. She left me.”

“I know Jungkook…I’m sorry… I just lashed out on you, you can heal at your own pace and if she wants to see you again, she will.” You continue to rub his back.

“No, you don’t get it.” Jungkook murmurs. “Mom was hurting a lot. You know?” he begins to get choked up, his throat burning.

“Dad cheated, yes. But he was also neglectful of her and she was in a lot of pain,” he sniffs repeatedly, wiping his nose on his sleeve.

“She felt like she had no one, not even me.” Jungkook face scrunches up as he resists more tears.

“She couldn’t even rely on me.”

Fuck. You know where this is going. It is all starting to make sense.

“Mom killed herself when I was 16.” Jungkook finally says, his voice barely above a whisper, like he was too afraid to say it out loud. Like it made it more real.

“Dad didn’t take it well…he started drinking and I rarely saw him around…I had to take care of myself.” Jungkook finally lets the tears fall.

“I hated him. I still do.” Jungkook clenches his jaw.

You sit on the couch unable to comprehend what Jungkook has gone through. You feel like the biggest bitch alive. You forced your best friend to reopen his wounds in front of you and you had the audacity to pour salt in them.

“Jungkook I’m so—”

“Forget it.” He’s quick to cut you off. You stare at him with wide eyes, your own tears staining your cheeks.

“Please leave me alone for a while.” He whispers and immediately you stop him from rising from the couch.

“No!” you pull him back down. He doesn’t even resist, he falls back to your side and you lead his head to rest on your beating chest.

“I’m here for you, Jungkook.”

And that’s it. That’s what it took for Jungkook to scrunch and twist his face until more tears begin flowing out of his swollen eyes. He cries into your shirt, wetting the material.

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” You pat his head, your fingers weaving through his dark locks.

Jungkook cries like this for several minutes, until he’s wiping away his tears and snot with his shirt sleeve. He rises from your chest and looks at you with a painful expression.

“Today is mom’s birthday.” He admits.

Fuck.

“I went to her grave today…” he sniffles, “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you before. It’s just…” he starts crying again, “Saying it out loud. Makes it real, don’t you think?” His face is swollen and puffy from his tears and you can’t stop your own tears from sliding down your cheeks.

“Jungkook, I’m so, so sorry.” You feel awful. You can’t even fathom what he has gone through…

“It’s okay, this was bound to happen eventually right?” he laughs awkwardly, snot still dripping from his nose.

“I shouldn’t have forced it out of you…God, I am so sorry.”

“I…” Jungkook’s eyes refill with tears as he tries to speak again, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before, I really am. I tried so many times but I just couldn’t say it out loud. I just couldn’t.” The tears fall down his face once again, “I tried.” He begins to cry harder. “I really tried y/n.”

You heart breaks. This is a sight you never want to see again but if anyone has to see it you want it to be you.

“Baby…” you whisper. “I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

“You’d never leave me…right?” Jungkook chokes on his words as he speaks. “I couldn’t handle it.”

You shut your eyes as you think about what Jungkook has gone through. You think about why he’s been so closed off and why he has troubles with people sometimes—especially girls.

“I wouldn’t ever leave you.” You say in promise. “You’re too important to me.”

Jungkook’s face falls back into your chest, he cries into your shirt for several more minutes as you rub his back and play with his hair.

“Wasn’t I important to mom too?” You hear him whisper.

Your heart breaks even more.

“Of course you were, Jungkook.” You try to save, “I know she must have loved you a lot.”

“Then why?”

“She must of thought you were going to be strong enough without her…” Your fingers thread through his hair again, “And you are. But you know, you aren’t completely without her…” Your hand goes to his chest, over his beating heart.

“She’s here too, with you.”

And with that, Jungkook sobs harder. Like, it’s the first time he’s cried over this. And you wonder if it is. He’s gripping on to your shirt so tightly as he releases intense sob after the other. Your heart continues to fucking break.

“I’m here. I’m here.”

It’s been quiet the last 30 minutes, neither you nor Jungkook have spoken. He’s not even crying anymore, just lightly sniffling every now and then. You wonder if he has fallen asleep. You wouldn’t be surprised, all that crying will take out all the energy out of a person…

You lean your head down to get a look at Jungkook’s peaceful face…he is sleeping. You feel yourself relax as you continue to play with his hair. He needs the rest, you think.

You feel your own eye lids getting heavy and you let yourself fall asleep as well. Jungkook snuggles deeper into your side, his face nuzzling in your chest and you hold him tighter. You two sleep like this for many hours until you’re being woken up at the sound of the blender going.

The living room is lit up with sunlight and your eyes blink lazily. You realize Jungkook isn’t sleeping with you anymore and you start to panic. Where did he go? Then the blender goes off again and you decide to stand from the couch, even though your body feels so heavy.

Jungkook is in the kitchen when you walk over, he’s got his back turned to you and you creep up behind him.

“Boo.” You say, wrapping your arms around him.

“When will you realize that will never work on me?” Jungkook lightly chuckles, “Sorry to wake you up. I figure I could make us some fruit smoothies.” He turns around in your hold. You eye him up and notice how puffy his eyes are and you feel your heart drop.

“Fruit smoothie sounds delicious.” You squeeze him tighter and Jungkook laughs a wonderful laugh. It’s loud and full and filled with joy.

“Hug me back.”

Jungkook smiles down at you and circles his arms around your waist, “Sorry, sorry.”

You smile back up at him and lean your head on his body, he feels so warm it could melt you.

“About last night…” Jungkook begins pulling away from you, “I’m sorry I kind of…”

“You don’t have to apologize.” You cut in. “It’s my fault.”

“No y/n…I’m glad things happened the way they did. I actually feel so much better.” He admits, “Lighter, even.”

“Oh? Well, good. But I am still so fucking sorry.”

“It’s okay baby.” He goes back in to hug you tighter. You feel his strong arms hold on to you and you want to stay like this forever. You would if you could. But—

“Shit. What time is it?” You step back from him, digging in your pocket for your phone. “Holy hell, I’m going to be late for work.”

“Then get going. I’ll text you later?” Jungkook asks with hope filling his eyes.

“Yeah.” You smile.

~~~~~~

Work was lame as usual, nothing eventful happened. Yoongi must have been too busy at the shop today since he didn’t come in for cookies. You decide you will go see him at the record shop tomorrow but for now…you’re dealing with something else—someone else.

“Oh? You thought Trina wouldn’t tell me?” It’s Jimin. He’s sitting on the edge of your bed with a popsicle between his lips. “Huh Miss Hickeys?”

“Jimin.” You drag his name out, “It’s not a big deal!” you throw your hands up in exasperation. “We were just really drunk and it didn’t mean anything. Just two drunk idiots.”

“Idiots, for sure.” Jimin sucks on the tip of the popsicle while he speaks.

“Seriously, it isn’t a big deal. We’re both over it.”

“Are you? You like him and he…fuck, this is getting so ridiculous. Promise me, just promise me…you will tell him the truth? You might be sur—”

“Jimin, stop.”

Jimin huffs out a deep, long breath and rolls his eyes at you.

“No.” he says matter of fact. “I won’t stop until you two talk.”

“Anyway there’s something more important we need to talk about…” you begin, “He told me about his mom.”

Jimin’s expression goes from shocked to guilty. He takes a few moments to finish the popsicle, biting the last inch or two and throwing the stick in the trashcan.

“I know. He told me.”

“Oh.”

“He’s been wanting to tell you for a long time y/n…but he just—”

“I know. It must have been really hard for him…all this time…”

“Yeah.” Jimin bows his head, “Me and Tae are the only ones who know because we were friends with him when it happened. That’s the only reason why or else I’m not sure anyone would know.”

“Is that…is that Jungkook’s secret? That you three…”

Jimin’s eyes expand as he realizes what you are talking about.

“N-No.” He admits softly, “That’s something else. That’s something Jungkook will definitely have to tell you on his own and trust me if you guys just talked…”

You tilt your head in confusion. What’s the correlation?

“Anyway, Jimin has Jungkook ever cried to you? About it all?” you ask, curiosity getting the best of you.

“He didn’t even cry at the funeral y/n.”

Fuck. You had a feeling. But knowing for sure is a whole other thing. The way Jungkook broke down in front of you felt like it was his first time and maybe it was and that makes your heart ache.

“Did he…cry? In front of you?” Jimin asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah…”

“Oh… he must really trust you.”

You only nod your head in response.

“If you guys just learned to communicate better…I’m really rooting for you two.”

Your heart swells at Jimin’s little confession and you nod your head again, this time with tears pricking at the corner of your eyes.

“Thanks Jimin.” Finally, you feel supported. And it makes you breathe just a little easier.

“I know things haven’t always been easy with you two ever since the Tae thing…but honestly this goes back even further. Doesn’t it?”

“Yeah. We…I don’t know what’s with us.” You chuckle bitterly.

“I do. And I am going to force you two to talk one of these days. I swear on it. I will give you guys some time but damn babe, this is just…” Jimin releases a long breath. “Just don’t give up, okay?”

“Can’t you just tell me?” you don’t mean to sound like you are begging but you kind of do.

“No. It’s truly truly not my place.”

“I can’t just assume what you are talking about, you know? I can’t hope for the best then get crushed. That’s too scary, Jimin.”

“I understand babe.” Jimin scoots closer to you until he’s within arms-reach and caresses your calve. “Just talk to him, please.”

“Too scary.”

“One of these days one of you will have the courage.”

~~~~~~

“And what could be in this little baggy of yours?” Yoongi grins, showing his wonderful gummy smile.

“I brought you 2 cookies Mister Oatmeal Raisin!” You shake the little bag in front of his face in a teasing manner and he chuckles.

“What did I do to deserve your kindness?” He takes the baggy from you and inspects both cookies. “You decided not to be bratty today?” he questions with a smile. “These cookies are perfect.”

You decided to visit the record shop today, on this fine afternoon. It’s one of those days where it’s cloudy and looks like it could rain but it never does. You love days like that.

“This place looks so nice!” you say, bobbing your head around to get a proper look.

“There’s a section where you can sit and drink coffee…it’s not much but its cozy. Wanna check it out?” Yoongi offers, gesturing towards the other side of the shop.

“Yeah.” You say, “Lead the way.”

He guides you to the other side of the shop next to a window. There’s a table for two and he’s right—it is cozy looking.

You sit down and wait for Yoongi as he fetches two coffees, which you are so excited about since you have a fucking addiction.

He sets a cup down in front of you and takes his seat.

“So any new happy moments in life? Anything new to be grateful for?”

“I—”

“That’s a trick question,” Yoongi’s eyes go small as he smiles widely, “There’s always new moments to be grateful for.”

You can’t help but laugh, you bring the steaming hot coffee to your mouth and you blow on the liquid multiple times before bringing it to your lips and taking a sip.

“Yes I guess so.” You smile.

“And what are they?”

“I’m grateful the sun is hiding today, I like the clouds a lot.”

“I love that.” Yoongi takes a sip of his own coffee. “What else?”

“I’m happy you brought me coffee.”

“I’m glad I somehow made it on your list of things.”

“What about you?” you ask.

“I’m grateful my A.C is working again!” he laughs, “It was actually broken for a couple days and I had like 5 fans plugged in around the place. I don’t think anyone wanted to come in here.”

“Oh no! Well, I’m glad it’s working!”

“How are things with your friend Jungkook? You guys were complicated last time I checked.”

You raise your brows in surprise that Yoongi would bring up Jungkook. But somehow you also aren’t surprised, it seems Yoongi takes a genuine interest in your life.

“We’re actually doing okay…” You bring the coffee back to your lips, taking another sip when—

“Have you told him your feelings yet?” Yoongi casually takes a gulp of coffee as you choke on yours.

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry…was that too forward?” Yoongi sets his cup down. “To be fair, you both are very obvious.

“What do you means us ‘both’?” You grab a napkin and wipe your chin where coffee dribbled.

“He clearly likes you too.” Yoongi stares at you as you stare back with a blank expression, and he laughs. “You two remind me of myself and someone I used to know.”

“Used to?”

“We were never on the same page…too many missed opportunities that it ruined anything we could have had.” Yoongi frowns for a split second before breaking out into a soft, gummy smile. “I’d hate to see that happen to you.”

“Yoongi—”

“But if it does then better for me?” he whispers with a smile in his voice.

“What do you mean by—”

“Oh. But he has a girlfriend, right?” Yoongi cuts you off with his question.

“Not exactly but basically…”

Vanessa. Your stomach drops at the mention of her and you hate it. Why does she have to have such a strong affect on you? Why does she even have to exist? You mean, she can exist but maybe not in your life—or Jungkook’s life.

Suddenly, the doors bell goes off with a ding and Yoongi is smiling brightly at whoever just walked in. You continue to sip your coffee not giving it much mind.

“Taehyung!” Yoongi shouts out, standing from his chair to wave over his friend.

Wait, Taehyung? He can’t mean the same Taehyung—

“y/n?”

Oh shit. You turn around in your seat and your face falls when you see him. Even on this cloudy day his skin is so golden like the sun is shining down on him, he looks bright and beautiful. As usual.

“Hi Taehyung.” You wave awkwardly. He can immediately tell how uncomfortable you are, his face deepening into a frown.

“I can come by later…” he offers to you.

“No, no. Don’t be ridiculous.” You try smiling but it’s quite tense.

Yoongi looks between you two and he points between your bodies.

“You two know each other?”

“We went to school together, had mutual friends blah blah blah.” You say.

Taehyung only agrees with the nod of his head. Yoongi blinks at your two and opens his mouth to say ‘Ah.’ And heads to the back for another cup of coffee.

“How have you been y/n?” Taehyung asks awkwardly, he shifts from one foot to the other as he stands here.

“Pretty good, I think.”

“You think?” he chuckles. “Hey, sorry if my texts bother you…”

“They don’t.” you say honestly. “Sorry I don’t always reply.”

“It’s okay, I understand. How’s…Jungkook?” Taehyung eyes shoot down to the floor. “He doesn’t answer my texts either. It really hurts to see years of friendship go down the drain…”

“He’s mad at you Tae,” You begin, “But I think one of these days he will chill out.” You laugh and this makes Taehyung ease up.

“He really fucking loves you.”

“Well we are best friends… sort of.”

“Sort of?”

“We kind of stopped talking for a little while but we’re back to being friends.” You try explaining but Yoongi is walking back in with a cup of coffee in hand. He hands it to Taehyung, which he accepts gratefully.

“You’re here for that new Jazz mix record, right? I have it behind the counter for you.” Yoongi says to Taehyung and Taehyung only gives him a thumbs up. He eyes you curiously, wondering what the hell happened between you and Jungkook.

“I have to get back to work boys!” You stand from the table, “Thanks for the coffee Yoongs”

Yoongi smiles at the new nickname.

“And maybe I’ll see you around, Tae?”

“Yeah.” Taehyung gives you his signature boxy grins and you feel like maybe things all around are getting better. Just maybe.

~~~~~

Jungkook has his hands knotted in Vanessa’s hair as she chokes on his cock, her lips wrapped around it fully.

“Fuck.” Jungkook whines out, “I’m so close.”

Vanessa only moans in response, she continues to bob her head up and down on his dick making his orgasm approach quickly.

“Gonna come, gonna come.”

And he does, he comes down her throat and she swallows it all perfectly. Only a drop or two left behind on her lips which she quickly wipes away with her fingers.

Vanessa stands to her feet and Jungkook pulls her in for a quick kiss.

“That was good…” he says, somewhat out of breath.

“Glad.” She says smoothly, going in for another kiss. This time she lingers, her lips lasting for a moment longer on his.

Vanessa’s fingers brush against his neck, she traces the outline of one last bruise left on the side below his ear.

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” she smiles coyly. “You two sure are weird.” She says flatly.

“Vanessa…”

“It’s fine. I know you know I still see him. It’s not like we agreed to be exclusive.” She taps her skinny fingers on his chest.

“But we are trying aren’t we? To make this work?”

“You aren’t trying very hard, are you?” the amusement in her voice doesn’t go unnoticed by Jungkook.

“He cheated on you, Vanessa. Why are you still seeing him? I thought you said he has a girlfriend now?”

Vanessa pauses her tapping on his chest, her eyes go wide for a second. Like, for a second she wasn’t void of emotion.

“He does.” She says smoothly before she begins tapping her fingers against his chest again.

“He cheated on me with this girl.” She admits, “Little does this bitch know—”

“Is that healthy? Getting revenge?” Jungkook asks, concern lacing his voice.

Vanessa continues to tap her fingers as she narrows her eyes at Jungkook.

“You want to talk to me about what’s healthy?” her empty laugh fills the room.

“I want you to stop.” Jungkook’s hands go to her hips, “Let’s be exclusive, Vanessa.”

“I can’t stop…” she whispers softly, “I can’t let go.”

Jungkook observes Vanessa for a few moments, she looks as vulnerable as she did the first time she talked about her ex with him. He feels sorry for her. He really does want her to move on, for her own sake.

“You can move forward, Vanessa. You have me.”

Vanessa looks into his eyes, studying his serious expression. She can tell he means well but…she doesn’t have him. She never will.

“Please Vanessa, we can make this work.” He begs, yes begs.

Vanessa tilts her head to the side. Oh? This must be his desperation talking, she thinks. His desperation to get over you. She knows this. And she doesn’t hold it against him and instead she decides to help him.

“Okay, let’s make this work.”

~~~~~~~

y/n 8:09pm

On a scale of 1-10 how bad do you wanna watch spirited away right now?

Jungkook 8:15pm

11 girl don’t play

y/n 8:16pm

I thought so, I think this means you need to come over and watch it w meeee

Jungkook 8:20pm

Lemme shower and I’ll be over:)

y/n 8:22pm

Bring beer pllllssss

Jungkook 8:42pm

On my way

y/n 8:45pm

Drive safe bb

It’s around 9pm exactly when you hear soft knocking on the front door. You scurry towards the door and open it, finding Jungkook on the other side. He is wearing your favorite gray puma sweat suit and his hair is wavy and damp. He smiles at you when he sees you eyeing him up and down.

“Like what you see?” he teases.

“Wow, what a classic line Jungkook. Real original.” You scoff, letting the boy through.

Jungkook walks in, setting down a case of beer on the breakfast table.

“I brought our favorite.” He gestures towards the beer on the table. “Let’s drink it while it’s nice and chilly.”

“Agreed. I already have the movie set up.” You point towards the T.V “Ready for our viewing pleasure.”

“Where’s Holly?” Jungkook takes two beers from the case, handing one over to you.

“Her and Trina went out to some bar, I didn’t feel like going.” You take the beer and twist off the cap, Jungkook does the same. You two clank the bottles together in cheers and take a few sips.

“Ah.” You say, the refreshing beer making you feel well, refreshed.

“Because you don’t feel like going to a bar? Or because you would rather hang out with me?” Jungkook smirks, taking another sip of his beer.

“Because I didn’t feel like getting pretty.” You bring the beer to your lips, but you don’t drink from the bottle, just waiting for a response instead.

“You’re always pretty.”

You take a sip of the beer, feeling satisfied with his response. “I know.” You half joke.

“Let’s go to a bar.” Jungkook blurts out.

“W-What?”

“Let’s go in our lounge clothes.” He smiles, “Let’s just do it.”

“No!” you laugh out, “We look like slobs. Well, I do. You look…” your hand motions towards his body, “You know, you look…”

“Are you trying to say I’m hot, y/n?” Jungkook’s sly smile grows as he drinks his beer.

“You know what I mean.” You huff out.

“Well, I think the same of you. So let’s go.”

You can’t help but laugh, you continue to drink your beer back, the liquid settling nicely.

“Okay. Fuck it, let’s do it.” You can’t help but grin, the idea of going to a bar in yoga pants and a t shirt with your sort of best friend sounds so great to you.

“But maybe a little makeup…” Jungkook starts chuckling as you hit his arm with your fist.

“Shut up.”

The bar is mostly pretty casual, maybe not as casual as you and Jungkook but still casual.

Only a small handful of people are actually dressed nicely, but mostly are in jeans and nice shirts. Somehow Jungkook is still the hottest guy here. Even in his sweat suit. You’re surprised you two even got let in, does this place not have some sort of dress code? Guess not.

It’s pretty loud inside, the place has a live band and a decent dance floor. You and Jungkook head towards the bar and take your seats.

The bartender takes a few minutes to reach you two and when she does she automatically nods at Jungkook for his order.

“Two long islands please.” He says, he smirks towards you and you smile back. Long islands? Oh you’re getting drunk drunk tonight.

“You got it.” She smiles at him with all her teeth, and turns around to start mixing the drinks.

“Long islands, huh?” you rest your head in your hand on the bar top.

“I figure neither of us are driving tonight, we might as well go hard.” Jungkook smiles at you. “I’ll buy this first round?”

“Sounds good to me.” You bump fists with Jungkook with a wide smile. “Wanna make a bet?”

“What’s that?” Jungkook quirks a brow at you.

“I bet you $5 that by the end of the night the bartender will hit on you.”

“But I also bet $5 that the bartender will hit on me.” Jungkook pouts.

You stare at him in disbelief at his cockiness and you burst out into giggles.

“Fair enough.” You say between laughs.

The bartender slides two drinks to you and Jungkook, she twists and twirls her hair in her fingers as she asks Jungkook how it tastes. He takes a sip and gives her a thumbs up, you can’t help but snicker.

“Can we also get two tequila shots?” you wave at the bartender. She turns to face you and frowns.

“Sure.” She puts on a fake smile and turns to fill up two shot glasses with tequila. She sets them in front of you a Jungkook and tells you the amount due.

“Tequila shots? Are we trying to fucking die tonight?” Jungkook chuckles from beside you. He grabs two limes and hands you one.

“To us.” You say, lifting your shot in the air.

“To you.” Jungkook whispers as you clank glasses and throw back the shots.

Holy shit, you are fucking wasted. After several tequila shots and a few long islands you and Jungkook are barely holding on. Okay, fine. It’s not that bad. But you guys are really drunk!

His hand hasn’t left your waist for hours, and it feels so fucking nice. It feels perfect. It feels right.

“y/n?” a voice calls out to you. You know this voice, really well in fact.

“Taehyung!” you cheer. You stumble forward and go in for a high five and his drunk ass high fives you back.

“Fancy seeing you again.” You giggle.

Jungkook’s hand grips your waist tighter as he narrows his eyes at Taehyung.

“What do you mean again?” Jungkook asks, his voice low.

“We ran into each other at my friend Yoongi’s” you slur out.

“Hi Jungkookie.” Taehyung awkwardly sways back and forth, his words also slurred. It’s obvious he’s on the same level as drunk as you.

“…Hey.” Jungkook hesitates to respond, he looks between you two. “y/n…is this okay? Talking to him?”

“Hm? Oh? Yeah.” You stare at Jungkook blankly. Why wouldn’t it be, you think.

“Jungkook, maybe we could talk just the two of us?”

You look between the boys and somehow you feel yourself sobering up just a bit.

“Uh. I’ll go to the bathroom.” You say, already walking away.

“You know how sorry I feel.” Taehyung begins, “About everything.”

“What’s everything?” Jungkook mumbles under his breath.

“I’m sorry for what I did to y/n. But I am also sorry for holding your secret over you like that to keep mine.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook slurs out, “That was fucked up.”

“I miss you guys…” Taehyung takes a sip of his drink, “Even Jimin barely talks to me.”

“Shouldn’t have messed with our girl.”

“You mean, your girl.” Taehyung drunkenly corrects Jungkook.

“Whatever.”

“Seriously man, when are you just going to grow the fucking balls?” Taehyung raises his voice just a bit, “It’s clear how you both feel—”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about man, plus I have a girlfriend now—”

“You guys are official now?” You walk up to the boys, cutting in. You feel like maybe he’s just saying that.

“y/n…yeah, we just made it official.” Jungkook admits, running a hand through his hair, sighing out in frustration.

Oh. You feel your heart begin to crumble. They’re dating for real now?

“Do you have feelings for her?” You blurt out.

Jungkook shifts from one foot to another, he breathes in and out in and out. He bites on his bottom lip, thinking of how to respond.

“I don’t know what to say to that.”

Well, at least he’s honest.

“Well, I’m going to head back to my friends…” Taehyung butts in awkwardly. “It was nice seeing you two.” And with that he’s slipping away in the crowd.

“Wanna dance?” you say, trying your best to change the subject. You decide you don’t want to know his answer.

“Sure.” Jungkook smiles at you, he reaches for your hand and you squeeze his tightly. You guide him to the dance floor, the song is a slow one. You two look at one another but there’s nothing awkward about this. He guides your arms to wrap around his neck and his hands circle around your waist, he pulls you in close as you two sway to the music.

“Never go 3 months without me again.” You whisper into his neck.

“W-Why are you bringing that up now?”

“I have to keep my eyes on you, Jungkook. Without my supervision you go off and get yourself a girlfriend.” Your drunken words pierce his heart.

“Is that a problem?” He whispers back. “Yes, a big problem.” You lean back to get a look at his face, he’s already staring down at you, he somehow brings you in even closer.

“Whys that?” He breathes out.

“Want you all for myself.” You admit, drunk words are sober thoughts right?

“You want me baby?” Jungkook leans down until he’s so close, like he cannot control it.

“Yes.” You blink up at him, your lips parted.

The song changes but you two continue to dance like it’s a slow song.

“I bet you $5 that some guy will hit on you in the next couple of minutes.”

You tilt your head and drunkenly giggle, “I highly doubt that.”

Jungkook reaches in his back pocket and hands you a five dollar bill.

“What’s this f—”

“You’re so fucking beautiful” and then his lips are just a mere inch away from yours before he’s pulling back with a look of horror and guilt plastered on his face.

“I—I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I’m with Vanessa now. I’m just drunk. I’m really drunk. You’re really drunk. We don’t know what we’re doing.” He drunkenly rambles.

You feel your heart sink down into your lower belly, you feel it crack and break into a million pieces. That’s right. Vanessa. He’s making it work with that girl.

“Yeah, it’s okay.”

“You’re my best friend y/n.” Jungkook slurs out, “I’m trying so hard not to ruin that.”

You only nod your head.

“Let’s go home.” You say.

~~~~~~

Your bed is comfy as ever, especially this drunk. Jungkook takes his shirt off and slips into the sheets, settling next to you.

“Wanna cuddle?” he offers.

“I don’t know if Vanessa would like that.” You slur.

“Right.” Jungkook lays on his back, his arms folding beneath his head. “Should I sleep in the living room?”

“No. I want you here.” You admit between soft breaths. “I always want you here.” You yawn out.

“Good.” Jungkook reaches out to hold you, “I don’t think Vanessa will mind if I cuddle my best friend for just five minutes.”

“Five minutes only” you tease. You shuffle closer to him, his warmth escaping his body and clinging to yours.

You two fall asleep like this. Morning comes slowly, like the world is giving you a chance to really appreciate one another’s company. Like the world knows that moments like this are so hard to come by. Like the world knows that you two need this.

When you wake up the next day, its half past noon. You’re still in Jungkook’s arms while he is dead asleep. You nuzzle into his chest and thank the world for giving you this moment. This moment to embrace him like he is yours, a moment to kiss his cheek like he is yours, a moment to whisper you love him like he is yours.

But he isn’t. He isn’t yours and that’s the reality. But you thank the world nonetheless. Because you need these moments to stay sane. But how do you two always end up like this? Can you keep blaming the alcohol? He tried to kiss you last night and that’s also the reality.

Jungkook wanted to kiss you. Can he keep saying it’s just because he’s drunk?

But he’s with Vanessa now and you have to respect that. And you will respect that.

You thank the world though, that right now he’s in your arms, breathing your air, and sharing this moment. Just you and him.

Finally, after another half hour Jungkook begins to stir in his sleep.

You stare at him as he wakes up and his sleepy eyes find yours.

“G’morning.” His voice is low and raspy and you want to swoon.

“Hi.”

“We…” he looks between your bodies. “Didn’t do anything, right?”

You feel your chest tighten, “No, Jungkook.” You answer calmly.

“Okay…” Jungkook frowns, “We can’t keep doing this, can we?”

Somehow you know exactly what he’s talking about, you can’t keep building this tension between you two. It goes nowhere.

“No” You admit softly, “We can’t.”

You think about Jimin’s words…could Jungkook…? But you don’t want to jump to happy conclusions, put yourself out there and then be wrong. But he tried to fucking kiss you. The girls were right, is this really all for you? You can’t keep doing this. It’s not good for you. “We really can’t.” you say again.

Jungkook smiles, but its soft and sad and makes you want to kiss his pouting lips until he shows you a real smile but you can’t.

“I’m sorry about last night.” Jungkook moves to his back, he stares up at the ceiling.

“I was just really drunk.” He continues, “Drunk me is wild.” He chuckles awkwardly.

“Is that really an excuse anymore?” you feel brave enough to say.

“y/n…”

“Forget it. We’re okay.”

“Are we?” Jungkook moves back to his side, facing you. He gives you a troubled look and you melt. Why are you always melting because of this man?

“Yeah. What’s more important is that your birthday is next week…”

“Oh yeah.”

“Can I be in charge of your party?”

“I don’t want a party, just a couple of friends.”

“Let me host it!”

“Okay, fine.” Jungkook smiles, “I can’t wait.”

“Do I have to invite Vanessa?”

“y/n.” Jungkook groans.

“Kidding!” you sing. Although, you aren’t entirely sure that you’re just kidding.

“It would be nice if you could plan this with Vanessa actually…she mentioned wanting to do something nice for my birthday too.” He sort of whispers out, like he didn’t want you to actually hear.

“Oh.” You aren’t sure what to say. You obviously don’t want co-host a get together with Vanessa but she is his girlfriend after all.

“Fine.”

You and Vanessa? Let’s see how this goes.

[kittydemon9000]

The Beginning of Heatstroke, aka Red's Villain Origin

* crashes down from the ceiling * I HAVE FINALLY FINISHED ONE OF MY 5+ CURRENT WRITING PROJECTS! BEHOLD, A WRITTEN VERSION OF THE 'Red's Villain Origin AU', also known as RVO / Heatstroke AU

To summarize the AU for SPBNR for those that don't now it: 

“Who'd be the biggest conspiracy theorist out of the M!Ninja? The one who drinks 5 hour energy at 3am and spits off the craziest theories and then actually gets it right but nobody gives the theory any merit because the rest of the theories are too crazy?”

The answer: Red / M!Kai

Red: Okay hear me out: Smith is actually an alternative version of one of us sent here from another dimension.

The other M!Ninja: You’re just saying that because Smith’s cool and you want him to be your counterpart

Based on the M!ninja making red cork boards trying to figure out ‘What Is Up With Smith’: Red gets increasingly accurate and nobody will believe him (all pre shogun reveal) and he eventually snaps and takes up a secret villain persona to fight Shogun like 'if they won't believe me I'll do it myself' and it gets awkward when he accidentally does too much damage and catches not only Shogun's attention like planned, but also the rest of the Ninjaforce, and now he has to keep his own identity a secret

So, without further ado, I present... Heatstroke

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

Red blamed the 5-hour energy coffee blend at 3:00am for this.

It was no surprise that between ‘Operation: What’s Going on with Smith’ & the sudden appearance of Shogun that the resident Bounty red-stringed ‘joke’ cork-board doubled in size and seriousness. It also was no surprise that Red had a corner all to himself and that his theories were… in the words of the others, ‘wildly inaccurate and implausible’.

But this time, he was sure he’d gotten it right.

Smith is Shogun sent here from another continent/planet/dimension with the goal of protecting Ninjago City.

The latest string of laughs and scoffs at his theory was the last straw. He’d show them. He’d prove it!

Which was why he was currently standing on the roof of a noodle house, awkwardly adjusting the spare motorcycle helmet he’d ‘borrowed’ from Nya and painted black and orangey-yellow (red had seemed too obvious). He’d exchanged his Ninjaforce outfit for a soot-burned cross between a bomber jacket and a leather jacket. Down his back jutted a row of flames like the spines of a monster, courtesy of one of Nya & Jay’s unfinished inventions Red had modified- surely nothing bad would come of that!

For tonight, the Red Ninja was off-duty. For tonight, it was Heatstroke’s turn.

He fiddled with one of the weapons he’d ‘lent out’ from Master Wu. It resembled a small arm canon, like a smaller version of the Ultimate Weapon. The plaque under its post had read ‘Elemental Focuser’, which, in cryptic Wu speak, probably translated to ‘you can use an elemental power like something out of Avatar: The Last Airbender’. So far he’d only figured out how to activate a focused jet of fire. Well, at least it was on brand. He hoped it would help him catch Shogun’s attention so he could unmask him.

He’d tried confronting Smith at school, of course. But there were only so many ways of saying ‘are you the new vigilante helping the ninjas’, and Smith has a genuine talent for dancing around the topic. Red could confront him with the name Shogun to get a proper reaction, but that would mean explaining how he knew the name and outing himself as the Red Ninja.

So fake villainy really was the only way.

His plan was to use the Elemental Focuser to cause some minor petty damage, just enough to attract the new vigilante. Perhaps set a trash can on fire, block an alleyway with rocks (if he figured out how to change the setting from fire to earth), small things that could easily be repaired.

Of course, plans were never actually stuck to. One way or another, something was always improvised.

Red’s improvisation just happened to involve him accidentally setting the entire alleyway on fire.

He’d only been aiming for one dumpster, honest! And maybe he’d spotted a couple fliers for a SoG meeting on the ground and happened to burn those too. And a newspaper article blaming Lloyd for the recent Garmadon attack, again. And an article about those ‘Damn Ninja Menaces’ by a S. Sonah Sameson. And-

Okay, so maybe Red had aimed the fire at a few small targets. But just a few! And with good reason and good care, but…

Well, fire liked to burn. Give it enough kindle and it’ll continue to grow, stretching like reaching branches towards each other to join in a massive bonfire. 

So now the entire alleyway was on fire, and Red was panicking. 

He’d luckily chosen an abandoned part of town near the beaches where Shogun sightings seemed most frequent, but with the stupid Elemental Focuser not switching from fire mode to water mode or ice mode or something that didn’t have the potential to burn Ninjago City to the ground, Red had no way of stopping the flames.

And more flames meant more destruction which meant a bigger audience.

Which was why his previously muted comm suddenly flared to life, the only warning Red had before Nya’s water strider mech slid around the corner.

Red scrambled onto a roof as the mech drove past, spraying water at the bonfire to dose it. His sigh of relief was just as quickly dosed as Lloyd’s voice came over the comms; “Status, Grey?”

“Flames are out,” Nya replied. “Pursing the joker that set it ablaze.”

Uh oh. Red took off across the roof, leaping from building to building. Tiles creaked, pebbled and dust scattering underfoot. The sounds of the mech’s engine roaring behind him echoed through alleyways below to create the illusion the mech was everywhere at once. 

As the chase grew on, more mechs started to join in. Red ducked into a narrow avenue to avoid Zane’s tank, then under a cafe overhang to throw off Jay and Lloyd. His heart hammered in his chest and he groaned, filling the inside of the motorcycle helmet with steam. Saying this was going ‘bad’ would be the understatement of the century. 

What had he been thinking? Oh wait: he hadn’t. Seriously? ‘Oh I’ll just pretend to be a villain real quick, that should get Shogun’s attention and not the attention of literally my entire team of fellow ninjas!’ Stupid, impulsive, this was why everyone was always calling the red ninja the ‘hothead’ when he really tried not to be- Lloyd’s voice over the comms snapped him from his thoughts. “I can’t catch them! It’s like they know our every move!”

Red winced as he climbed up a banister and leapt from balcony to balcony. Sorry, Lloyd. 

He didn’t miss how the others asked Nya where Red was. And how she made up excuses the others bought so easily- granted, he’d told those excuses to his sister before setting his plan into motion, but still, ouch. They acted like he was simply being at best too busy and at worst lazy and selfish.

He just wanted them to know the truth! Why couldn’t they at least try to believe him when-

Of course, that was when Shogun dropped out of the sky and tackled him.

Red shouted with surprise as he tumbled down from the second floor, slamming into a few softer bags of garbage to break his fall before rolling and slamming into the unforgiving concrete. A crack formed in his vision as the visor of his motorbike helmet smacked into the concrete ground. One of the fire jets on his back sputtered and sparked, sending a thin wisp of smoke into the air.

Shogun pinned his wrists to the ground and growled. “Who are you?”

Red tried to break free, agony turning his muscles and bones to fire with the movement after his fall, but the vigilante was too strong. Damn, how often did this guy train?

“Who am I?” Red said, a nervous tinge to his voice. He quickly smoothed it over with faked confidence. “Who are you? Who are all of us, really?”

Shogun narrowed his eyes behind his hood. “Did Garmadon send you? Or someone else?”

Red sputtered. Really, the nerve! Garmadon? The thought turned his insides to disgusting mud. “Nobody sent me!”

“Then why are you here?” Shogun spat.

“Why am I here?” Why was he here again? Oh right, the bright idea on how to reveal that Shogun was Smith. “It’s, uh… a valid reason! That I don’t have to tell you!” He tried for a villainous laugh. Stay in character, don’t blow your cover, you got this!

Shogun was unimpressed. “Nearly burning down my home was a valid reason?”

“Well, I wasn’t trying to set everything on- wait, WHAT?” Uh oh. “You LIVE here?”

Now it was Shogun’s turn to look uncomfortable, though the expression was quickly wiped from his face. “Nothing wrong with this district.” 

Red nodded. “‘Course not. Uh, sorry about that… wasn’t my intention, I swear.”

Shoot, he could hear Jay’s jet getting closer. He had to get out of here, but Shogun, annoyingly, didn’t seem to be in the mood to simply let him go. “Then what is your intention?”

“Well, for starters, it’s getting out of here. This really isn’t going to plan and I’d rather just be home right now, or even inventing a time machine like in that book ‘Hands of Time’ to slap my past self in the face for even thinking about this stupid idea in the first place-“

Jay wasn’t the only one that could ramble under pressure, it seemed.

Shogun leaned closer. “What idea?”

Red shrugged as best he could with how he was pinned to the ground. “Well, for starters, I just wanted to prove to my friends that you’re Smith, and things just kinda escalated from-”

The words were out of his mouth before he realized what he said. 

Shogun lurched back, letting go of him. His eyes betrayed a kaleidoscope of emotions; surprise, worry, suspicious, hurt, fear, realization. 

“…Kai?”

Well, f!ck.

“I-“

Red was about to badly attempt to bullsh!t his way out of his identity reveal before it suddenly dawned on him that Shogun had not denied his theory. 

Which meant Shogun was Smith.

And it also meant Smith instantly recognized him as Kai, which, considering his disguise, was aptly concerning. Sure, he was the first one in his group of friends people would think to do something this extreme but give him some credit! Zane was a regular detective, he’d do the same if it meant answers! Or, well, at least something similar. And Nya could be an adrenaline seeker. And Lloyd- well, maybe not Lloyd. Or Jay, either. Cole had his head just enough on his shoulders that he probably wouldn’t do this either.

But come on, instantly guessing it?

Well, at least Smith/Shogun didn’t know Kai was the Red Ninja. That would be a catastrophe.

Right. Back to the current catastrophe at hand.

Shogun- Smith- still had a look as if he’d been slapped, and Red hated it. He hadn’t meant to hurt his friend. Shogun… Shogun hadn’t wanted them to find out his identity. And then Red had gone and done it, just to prove that he could be the smart one, or a leader, or the protector so they didn’t get hurt, or literally anything but just the ‘hotheaded one’. 

…And he’d done it in the most hotheaded, impulsive way possible.

He really was an idiot.

The cracked helmet hid the look on his face, a twisted mess of distraught and shame. But it didn’t help hide how he took stumbled to his feet and away from Smith, nervous that any second he’d spill another mistake and mess up again, like how he always freaking messed up on everything. Don’t pick this fight, interject there instead, no, not there, idiot, there, FMS why are you so useless-

Focus, focus.

Lloyd’s voice, sharp in the intercom and full of static from his tumble, snapped him from his thoughts. “Anyone got eyes on the arsonist?”

Red caught Smith’s eye as he raised his hand to his own communicator. He was so screwed, so busted, so doomed… Smith would report it, and the others would know, and they’d think he was just messing around in an alleyway with some stolen devices and weapons out of curiosity or rage, - and-

“None yet, still looking.”

…What?

Smith stared at him, gaze searching. He looked shaken, more so than Red- who’d just taken a fall from a second story, mind you, it was a miracle he wasn’t more injured than a couple small scrapes and some future bruises-, yet everything from the set of his jaw to the softening of his furrowed brows suggested a change in emotions. Well, not quite change; more like repress and replace.

“You wanted to prove yourself, didn’t you.”

Red flushed, hand instinctually clamping into a tight fist at his side. The still-working fire jets on his back ignited without him pressing any buttons; faulty activation from the fall or something. 

Palms up and hands raised, Smith silently asked to defuse the situation. “Didn’t mean it as an insult. This wasn’t about venting some anger, was it.”

Red’s lack of response only confirmed it. Smith continued. “I won’t say anything about this if you don’t tell anyone my identity. Deal? I know finding it out was important to you, but-“

“Deal,” Red interrupted. Guilt ate away at his core, like a wave of water dousing a candle. “Smith, I-“ He swallowed hard and stared at the alley floor. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… to…”

Smith’s hand was suddenly on his shoulder and he flinched before relaxing as Smith didn’t move further, nor did the grip tighten. “I’m a little hurt, you’re right. But I’m not mad. And I won’t tell the others, so you can relax. But you better get out of here and get yourself an alibi. We can talk at school or something.”

Wow, he was handling this rather calmly. Red was struck by the sudden memory of- what did Jay call the word? Right. Compartmentalizing. That… wasn’t healthy. But at the roar of Lloyd’s mech somewhere nearby, he didn’t comment further. Instead, he shot Smith a grateful nod and ran down the alley, sticking to the shadows and blind spots of the flying mechs and the tight alleyways where the land mechs couldn’t reach him. 

When he got home, miraculously without further incident (though Shogun leading the others on a wild goose chase over the comms certainly helped there), he ditched the outfit in a bag hidden beneath a loose floorboard in the shed. He’d return the weapon to Master Wu’s ship later, and… well, hope Nya never searched for the missing supplies. There wasn’t a way of fixing it without involving her or Jay, and neither was an option.

Heatstroke was back off duty, and so was the Red Ninja.

For now, he could just be Kai Smith. And there wasn’t any issue with that.

…

Right?

—————

yooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

THIS IS AMAZING REHJJGFHDESFXJVZ

and ah yes, good ol trauma and compartmentalizing, we love to see it

[matwith1t]

A/N: More fluff!! Ahh!! And a request?! 😱  Thank you to the anon who sent it in! Please enjoy some boyfriend Mat content!! Feedback is my favorite thing in the world and I’d love to know every detail of your thoughts!! Thanks a million for all of your kind reblogs/messages/tags about my previous writings 🥺  It means the absolute world to me 🥺  Requests are still open!!! Send ‘em my way if you have any 😎

Request: Mat Barzal taking care of a sick girlfriend !!! Fluffy mat is superior… In which you’re sick and Mat takes care of you.

MASTERLIST | LET’S CHAT 🥂 | Mat Barzal x Reader

Warnings: throwing up // WC: 2.4K // Fluff

Waking up with an excruciating pounding sensation right in the middle of your forehead was less than ideal. And the sun peaking through the slits of the blinds made it even worse. But the one thing that made the headache pain––and the bile churning in your stomach––a little less dull, was the feeling of your boyfriend’s arm around your waist, his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck.

You tried your hardest to concentrate on the soft breaths that came from Mat’s slightly parted lips that fanned your neck. Tried your hardest to concentrate on his hand that slightly squeezed your waist, his telltale sign that he was waking up. And tried your hardest to keep your eyes shut as Mat slid one of his legs between yours.

“Morning,” Mat mumbled as he placed a soft kiss on the base of your neck.

But even that wasn’t enough to stop the discomfort in your stomach as you felt an increase of saliva in the back of your mouth.

Hastily, you threw the sheets off you and stumbled out of bed.

The bathroom door was left wide open and ran as fast as you could to the toilet. And once the lid of the toilet was up, your head faced downward into the bowl, you emptied out the contents of your stomach from the night before. The ugly sound of bile coming up through your esophagus was one you tried your hardest to keep quiet, but it was no use as it echoed off the bathroom walls.

Not even a minute after you bolted into the bathroom alone, you felt a presence behind you. Mat ran his fingers slowly up and down your spine, as his other hand made sure there were no loose strands of hair in front of your face. You clutched the outer rim of the toilet and he was silent as he just offered up his presence.

You felt moisture in the corner of your eyes from squeezing them so tight. But after a few deep breaths, and the wave of nausea floating away, you closed the lid of the seat and flushed the toilet. With your arms on the lid of the toilet, the porcelain felt cool on your skin.

Tilting your head to the side, so that your cheek rested on your arm, you looked up at Mat who had his eyebrows pulled together in worry, “Morning to you too.”

Mat rolled his eyes and let out a soft laugh at your late response to his morning greeting. With his fingers still stroking your spine, he gave you a sympathetic smile, “Feeling better?”

“No.”

At your honest answer, Mat let out another laugh as he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “Let’s get you back to bed.”

With a groan, you told him you wanted to brush your teeth first. So he grabbed you a new toothbrush, and after you brushed your teeth, you sluggishly made your way back to his bed. The lingering pressure of your headache was still present, so you wrapped yourself up in his blankets and buried your head into the pillow he slept on last night.

You felt a dip in the mattress next to where you laid curled up, and then felt a hand slowly rub your shoulder, “Do you want anything to eat? Toast always makes me feel better after I’m sick.”

The thought of putting any food into your stomach at the moment made you even more nauseous than you were a few moments ago. So you shook your head no.

“Tea?” He offered.

Again, you shook your head.

“Water? Or––”

“I just want to sleep,” your voice was muffled as you spoke into the pillow. But you knew Mat heard you when he squeezed your shoulder.

You didn’t want to admit it, but part of you was embarrassed with yourself throwing up in front of Mat. Sure, he was your boyfriend and had most likely seen you in worse situations, but the sudden sickness came out of nowhere. And there was part of you that wanted to be left alone––to sit with your embarrassment until it passed like the nausea––but when you felt his hand retract from your shoulder, you wished his touch didn’t go away.

As Mat stood up, the dip in the mattress was no longer present, and for the third time in the morning, he pressed a gentle kiss on your temple, “Alright.”

You heard his footsteps softly trek out of his room, and you so badly wanted to reach out and ask him to stay. Because you knew that he had the capability to make you feel like the stomach bug would pass instantly, but the logical part of you let him walk away. If he were to get sick, that wouldn’t go over so well with hockey.

Ten minutes later, you heard the door slightly creek open. You barely lifted your head up from the pillow to see Mat walking towards you with a steaming cup of tea and thermometer in his hand. He set the mug of tea down on his nightstand and sat down on the side of the mattress, next to you.

Mat tapped the thermometer on your cheek, “Open up.”

But like before, you just shook your head no, “We already know I’m sick.”

“I just want to know if you have a fever,” he whispered just as soft as the look in his eyes. You didn’t want to have your temperature taken, but when you opened your eyes more and saw his messy hair sticking up in a few directions, affectionate eyes wide in a silent plea, paired with the softest smile you had ever seen, you opened your mouth. Triumphantly, his smile widened as he placed the thermometer under your tongue, “There we go.”

The faint beep of the thermometer working to take your temperature sounded louder in the silence. But when it rang a few times, signaling it was done, you crossed your eyes to see if you could see the final temperature. But Mat had taken the stick out of your mouth and grimaced.

“One-oh-one point eight.”

With a groan, you buried your head back into the pillow, “See, I told you––”

“I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t a super high fever,” Mat spoke in a caring voice as he caressed your cheek, “I’m going to pick some stuff up from the store. I’ll be back in an hour or so.”

Before he could turn away, a whine left your lips as you rolled over and took hold of his wrist, “Don’t go.”

He bent down so he was eye level with you and rested his palm on your forehead, “You’re burning up. I promise it’ll be the fastest trip ever, you won’t even know I’m gone.”

With a hmpf, you let go of his wrist and curled yourself back into a fetal position to stop the chills running through your body. You heard Mat let out a chuckle as he bent down to press another kiss to your temple as he whispered another promise to be back soon.

You tried your best to get some sleep, but with your body chills soon turning into body aches, it was pointless. And with the headache pain still looming about, you didn’t want to scroll through your phone. So you stared up at Mat’s ceiling, and tried to count up to the highest number you could.

You didn’t know what number you were on, but it was long forgotten when you heard his front door open and the rattling of bags together. And soon enough, you saw Mat in the doorway––both hands holding onto plastic pharmacy bags––and couldn’t help but smile.

“I’ll be in soon,” he mirrored your smile, “Promise.”

With a nod, you fell back onto the pillow as a chill ran down your spine. And while you wished he would’ve been back with you sooner, he didn’t break his promise. Because soon enough, Mat pushed the door open with his hip and closed it with the back of his foot. And you would’ve taken a picture of him if the harsh brightness of your phone screen didn’t cause your head to feel like it was splitting in half.

In his right hand, he held a steaming hot bowl of broth. In his left hand, he held a few packages of over the counter medication. Under his chin, pressed in between his chest, he clutched a few magazines, pencils, and word search books. And over his left shoulder hung a heavy blanket.

You felt your shoulders drop at how adorable he looked waddling over to your side of the bed. First, he set the steaming bowl of broth down next to the mug of lukewarm tea. Then, he set the medication down in a pile on the bed. After that, he brought both hands up to successfully take the magazines and word search books out from under his chin without them falling to the ground. And then finally, he shrugged the blanket off his shoulder so that it landed on your face.

“Sorry,” Mat chuckled as you pushed the blanket away. “I called my mom,” he said as he put the puzzle books on his nightstand to sit on the edge of the bed, “She said broth would help you feel better. And told me what medicine to get.”

The explosion of love you felt in your chest was stronger than the sharp pain that shot through your head.

“And I got us a few puzzle books,” he picked up a neon blue book, “I figured it would hurt to look at your phone or any screen, so no Netflix today for us.” He plopped the book down back on the nightstand as he picked up the bowl of broth.

Slowly, you pushed yourself up by your forearms and leaned against the headboard, “For us?”

Mat nodded his head as he stared into the broth, concentrating harder than any person should as they stirred liquid, “Yeah, I don’t want to do anything that would make you feel even worse, so no screens,” he looked up at you and shrugged his shoulders, “I like word searches.”

You let out a small laugh and tilted your head slightly out of admiration for the man sitting in front of you, wondering how on earth you got so lucky.

“And I saw you curl up before I left,” he directed his eyes to the blanket on your lap, “So I figured you needed to be warmer.”

You didn’t think you could love him––or any other person––more than you did in this moment.

“I love you,” you voiced the thought that circled around your mind on repeat.

Like every time Mat heard those three words from your lips, a wide and contiguous smile lit up his face, “I love you, too,” Mat affirmed his love for you as he shoveled up some liquid onto the spoon. You could see a few steam clouds from the spoon, but Mat softly blew on it to cool it down, “Open up.”

He was just as persistent with the broth as he was the thermometer. But like before, you shook your head, “You don’t need to feed me.”

Mat dropped his shoulders, as he jutted out his bottom lip, “Just one spoonful––”

You continued to shake your head, “I’m not hungry.”

Mat rolled his eyes and brought the spoon closer to your face. He let out a deep sigh as you recoiled away, “Please.” But you shook your head no. At your adamance of not wanting Mat to feed you, he let out a deep sigh, “If I give you the bowl, will you eat some?”

While you weren’t hungry in the slightest, the thought of food didn’t make your skin crawl as much as it did before when he offered you toast. Wordlessly, you took the bowl from Mat after he set the spoon in it. And to make him happy, you took three sips of the broth he made for you.

With a satisfied smile, Mat took the blanket and spread it on top of the other blankets you were already swamped under. And with a neon blue word search book, Mat climbed over you to get to the other side of the bed. Once he was next to you under the covers, he leaned his back on the headboard as he grabbed a pencil and opened the book.

Your eyebrows were raised high, an amused expression on your face as you let out a single breathy chuckle through your nose. The sound caused Mat to peer up at you and raise his eyebrows at you, “Yeah?”

“Aren’t you afraid of getting sick?”

Mat let out a pft sound, “It can’t be anything worse than what I could get in the locker room.”

Sinking down into the bed, you brought the multiple blankets you were buried under up under your chin, as you laughed so hard it caused your head to hurt. But the joy you felt course through your body almost made you forget about your body aches. And with Mat’s casual dismissal of whatever virus infected your body, he lifted his arm up for you to come right up next to him.

Happily, you rested your head on his warm chest and looped an arm around the front of his stomach the same time his arm curled around your neck. While it was a little difficult for Mat to complete his word searches, he assured you that he had grabbed the advanced copy so he spent more time than he would’ve liked to find the words.

In record time of shutting your eyes, you fell fast asleep without having to stare up at the ceiling to count up to an obscene number.

While you felt like a brand new person a week later, Mat had started to get the chills and a runny nose. And the day after his first symptoms appeared, he kicked the bedsheets off early in the morning––just like you had––and made a mad dash to the bathroom.

And when Mat called out of practice that morning, he said that he had probably caught something from the locker room.

[narutogwriting]

I’m Ready

Pairing: Naruto Uzumaki x Reader

CW: SLIGHT nsfw, cavity inducing fluff Length: 2.9k+

Summary: You and Naruto have been dating for a year now. After having to be seperated for so long, the war is finally over, and Naruto knows he wants to stay by your side forever

Could be considered a sequel to “Touch Starved” or stand on its own

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!

Two days. The Fourth Great Ninja War had only lasted two days, but it felt like a lifetime. Maybe because of everything that happened leading up to the war. It was hard to picture it all now, the smaller battles, the trainings, even the way your friendships had been built up over the last few months. The war only lasted two days, but it was years in the making.

And now it was over. Lives were lost and the world was forever changed, but somehow good had triumphed the way it did in all the books and movies. 

Well, not somehow.

Winning the war was a team effort, every person in every village had done their part, even gave their lives, but you knew what you’d always known.

None of it would have been possible without Naruto.

Ever since you’d met him when you were both twelve years old, you knew there was something different, something special about Naruto Uzumaki. By the time you’d met, everyone else was starting to figure it out too, but you knew right away. You couldn’t have imagined just how special, how important, Naruto would be to the world, but you’d had no doubt in your mind right off the bat that Naruto was going to do great things.

When Naruto asked you to be his girlfriend when you were both sixteen, you felt like the luckiest girl in the world. You couldn’t believe that Naruto wanted it to be you by his side as he took on the world. That spot next to him had always been occupied by you anyways. You wouldn’t have known how to step aside if he were to love someone else.

But it was you he loved. Things had moved so fast between the two of you. One day you were best friends and by that night, you were his girlfriend, falling asleep in his arms and kissing him goodnight. You’d already lived together at that point; it already felt like you and Naruto were spending your life together.

It wasn’t even a full week later that Naruto had let the “L” word slip. The two of you were at the training grounds, but you hadn’t been in the mood to train. You went with Naruto since he wanted to work on target practice, but you had decided to sit back in the shade, writing in your notebook as you leaned against a tree. 

“Did you see that!?” Naruto had called. You glanced up from your book to see that he’d hit the bullseye dead on, and he was grinning excitedly at you.

“Good job, Naruto. But you always hit the bullseye.” You gave a small laugh, glancing back down at your notebook. You missed the pout on Naruto’s face.

What Naruto had been asking you if you saw was the backflip he’d done as he threw the kunai--he had to challenge himself after all. But you were hardly paying attention to him, too caught up in your writing. Well that wasn’t going to stand.

A moment later, you felt wind past your hair as a thud came from the tree above you. You looked at the tree to see a kunai lodged in the trunk just over your head before looking back at Naruto to see a smug smirk.

“Naruto!” You snapped, closing your book. “Are you crazy!?”

He giggled like a child, rubbing the back of his head. “Like you said, I always hit my mark. I wasn’t gonna hit you!” But you were already on your feet, charging him and tackling him to the ground. Naruto’s back hit the floor with a thud, and you could hear the air escape him. Straddling him, you placed your hands on his chest and stared down at him.

“Did you really need my attention that badly?” You asked him curiously, tilting your head. Naruto was looking at you with those wide, beautiful blue eyes that sparkled in the sunlight. He stared at you so intensely, so earnestly, that it made you blush. “What?” You muttered, glancing away in embarrassment. 

Naruto sat up, wrapping an arm around your waist to keep you close to him on his lap. Slowly, you turned your head back to look at him, captivated by all that was Naruto. You were feeling more shy than you ever had before, but Naruto looked and felt as sure as ever as he took you in. “I love you is all.” He grinned at you, leaving a big kiss on your cheek.

There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that you were fully, completely, totally wrapped up in Naruto. You didn’t think you’d ever get free, and you knew for a fact that you never wanted to. 

It was later that night that Naruto took your virginity. It was slow and sweet and awkward and clumsy--everything a girl could hope for for her first time. Naruto kissed you everywhere his lips could touch, his eyes took in every inch of your body. You don’t think you’d ever been so nervous in your life.

But it was Naruto, and like everything else, he made you feel brave. You couldn’t help but wonder how he knew what to do so effortlessly. You had no idea how anxious the whole thing made Naruto because he was so attentive to your needs.

Naruto would later admit to you sheepishly that he’d done a lot of research to make sure he didn’t hurt you. He took it slow when his fingers pressed inside you for the first time, pumping and curling experimentally as he listened to your body to know when he was doing it right.

His thumb clumsily circled your clit as he slid inside you slowly, taking his time despite the urge to just sheathe himself completely. Your fingers gripped his shoulders as you rocked into him despite the pinching pain. And then, suddenly, it didn’t hurt anymore, and your stomach began to flutter. It didn’t last long, with Naruto spilling inside you sooner than he would have liked, but you felt satisfied, on cloud nine, nonetheless.

You couldn’t figure out if it was a blessing or a curse the way your and Naruto’s relationship progressed so quickly, because as soon as everything seemed perfect with the two of you, everything else began to change.

Naruto took the world by storm just like you always knew he would, and the two of you were separated more and more. You wanted to be with him at every point, but you were both ninjas with different roles. You did your best to keep focused, but you missed Naruto terribly when he was gone, and you always feared that he would forget about you. He was quickly gaining the respect of not just the village, but the whole world, just like he’d always wanted. Now that he had everyone else’s attention, would yours matter to him as much?

But when Jiraya died, Naruto wanted nothing more than to be in your arms. There was no one else that could have brought him back from the brink, that darkness that had seemed so overwhelming. You weren’t there in his fight with Pein, you couldn’t be, but he wished you were.

When he meets Minato, finds out that the Fourth Hokage is his father, he can’t help but tell him about you, how despite how miserable and alone so much his childhood had been, he’d do it all over again as long as it led him to you. And his father tells him how happy he is, that if he and Naruto’s mother couldn’t be there for him, that at least you had found Naruto.

And Naruto smiles at that, because you did find him, right when he needed you. He’s confident that in any time or place, any lifetime, you would find him again. And he would find you.

When Naruto meets his mother, it goes much the same. He learns how Kushina and Minato fell in love, a story he never would have imagined he would get to hear. Kushina doesn’t miss his blush when she tells him to find someone like her, and he tells her that he already has. Shyly, Naruto tells his mom about you, how you were his constant, and how much he loves you. It brings them both to tears, because neither of them ever imagined they would have this moment.

And Naruto can’t wait to tell you about it all, but your time together is so few and far between, and you spend most of it in each other’s arms. Every time you touch him again, the relief in you is almost violent, because every time one of you leaves, you’re not sure if you’ll see each other again.

Many lives are lost in the time leading up to the end of the war, but by some miracle of the universe, you and Naruto are left standing. Even so, as he and Sasuke laid barely on the brink of consciousness, both short one arm as Sakura cried over them, you kept your space. It was a scene you knew Naruto had been dreaming about for years, his one real wish to have Sasuke back.

So you’re happy, excited, relieved for Naruto to have his best friend home, but you’re scared too, terrified, really, of what this will mean for your relationship. Now that Naruto has the one thing he’d been dreaming about for years, would that change the way he felt about you?

You’d had enough foresight to buy birthday presents for Naruto early before any stores became a casualty to the battle. With so much destroyed, Naruto couldn’t believe it when he woke up in the hospital surrounded by balloons and streamers, and of course you. “Happy birthday, Naruto.” You smiled from your seat by his bed. And Naruto wasn’t ashamed by the fact that he was crying, because you loved him, and you were here, and even if one day he lost everything else in the world, he had you.

In the days that follow the war, Naruto hears stories of what everyone had experienced in the Infinite Tsukuyomi. He wonders what he would have seen had he been trapped inside. Sasuke being home was a given, and now it was reality. He didn’t have to dream.

He knew for a fact that you would have been in it. And he would be with you forever. That was his dream, what he wanted even more than becoming Hokage one day. He couldn’t imagine his life without you, and he hated how much time he had had to spend away from you for the past months. He never wanted to have to go a day without you again.

It’s only a week that Naruto was in the hospital. Tsunade wanted to keep him in for longer, but Naruto couldn’t stand to spend another night not laying in bed with you. Which meant that he was almost completely bedridden for another week after he came home, with you waiting on him hand and foot.

“You did this on purpose,” you teased him, helping him sit up as you fed him ramen. “You just wanted to make me take care of you.” Naruto just grinned at you in response.

“Having a beautiful girl feeding me ramen? That’s like, the ultimate fantasy!”

You still thought it was too soon, but Naruto was up and moving by week three, eager to get back to training. “You’ve missed all the cool things I’ve learned, too. I have to show you.” Naruto bragged. 

Poking the stub that was his right arm, you laughed. “Better let Tsunade fix this then, if you want to show me anything new.”

Naruto pouted. “But I’ll have to be in the hospital overnight…” He protested. You gave him a soft peck, rolling your eyes at him. 

“I think we can survive one more night apart.” You made a move to pull back, but he secured his arm around your waist, kissing you again. 

“Just one more night?”

~

Naruto had gone in the night before to get his new arm. He’d pouted and tantrumed and tried to put it off, but finally told Tsuande he was ready.

“It’s just one more night,” you’d promised him as you said goodbye, wrapping your arms around him. 

He kissed your head. “Fine. But promise me something?” he asked. You nodded, looking up at him. 

“Of course,” 

“Meet me tomorrow on the hokage heads at six?” 

So that’s where you were heading now. The sun was beginning to set, lighting the sky up with beautiful hues of purples, oranges, and pinks. You smiled as you climbed the stairs thinking of all the days twelve year old you and Naruto had spent sitting up here, talking about your dreams. You were so young then, neither of you had the foresight to imagine you would be where you were now.

As you got to the top of the mountain, your heart leaped seeing the setup Naruto had waiting for you. A blanket was laid out on the ground, surrounded by lit candles. Plush pillows filled the blankets for comfort as well as glasses of sparkling champagne with your favorite dessert.

He stood there waiting for you with his bandaged hand, and you realized you’d never seen anything as beautiful as Naruto, and you found yourself running to him, jumping into his arms and kissing him deeply as you wrapped your legs around him. 

Laughing, he kissed you back, holding you to him tightly. “I missed you too,” he laughed when you pulled away.

You beamed at him, and it made his breath hitch. You were so gorgeous. Never in his wildest dreams would he have imagined that someone would look at him the way you do, and his eyes started to well up realizing just how lucky he was to have you. 

As he set you down, you gave a small laugh. “Naruto, are you crying?” You asked him, reaching up to touch his cheek. 

 He scratched the back of his head as he stared down at you. “I can’t help it… I just love you so much…” You smiled at him, but he wasn’t done yet.

“Ya know, all that time we spent apart, I thought of you almost every second. Even when I got to talk to my mom and dad… I just wanted to tell them about you…” He took your hands in his, looking at you with a level of admiration that made you blush.

“And, ya know, I know you think it was silly that I didn’t want to go get my new arm cause I didn’t want to spend the night at the hospital, but I just don’t want to have to be away from you again. Not ever.”

You looked at Naruto almost curiously as butterflies fluttered in your stomach. “I’m not going anywhere,” you assured him.

Naruto gave a soft smile, so different from his usual animated grin. “I know,” he said quietly as he began to drop down to his knee. Your jaw dropped as one hand went to cover your mouth. 

“N-naruto… What are you doing?” You asked.

“I love you. So much. And for so long, since we were twelve.” He said, looking up at you. “I never really realized how much I was missing all my life until you came into it. And it was all worth it, all my loneliness, all that time I spent feeling like an outsider… Because when you came into my life, all that pain turned into so much happiness, I thought my heart would burst. I didn’t know I could survive being so happy after being so alone for so long.”

Tears were falling freely from both of your eyes. You didn’t know when you’d started crying, but now you couldn’t stop. 

“We’ve all been through so much in such a short amount of time… I could’ve lost it all. I could’ve lost you. But I didn’t, and I’m so lucky I didn’t.” Naruto continued, smiling through his tears. You tried to quiet your sobs so you could hear him better. “And it’s because of that,” He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small box. “That I want to make sure I get to spend the rest of my life with you. I want you forever. Will you marry me?”

Disbelief. You couldn’t believe this wasn’t your imagination, that this was really happening. “Naruto… We’re only seventeen, we’ve been dating for like a year!” You laughed, and he just grinned confidently.

“I know,” he told you. “I know we’re young, but I know that I love you, and I know that I want to be with you forever. I’m ready. What do you say?”

He almost dropped the ring because you were on him in a second, tackling him to the floor, peppering his face with kisses. “Yes,” you cried between kisses. “Yes of course! I love you. I love you so much.”

“Wait, the ring!” Naruto laughed, waving around the box. “I spent a lot of money on this, ya know! You should at least look at it!” But you just kept on kissing him.

“I’d marry you with a paper ring,” you told him before pressing your lips to his. “Any time, any place. As long as I get to be with you.”

Naruto wiped at his cheeks, staring at you through his blurry eyes. Every time he thought he couldn’t get any happier, you proved him wrong. 

He finally was able to grab your hand and slide the ring on it. “Now you’re never gonna get rid of me.” He told you before giving you another kiss. 

“Promise?” You asked him with shining eyes?

Naruto couldn’t understand it. How had he ever gotten so lucky?

“Promise.”

[lale-txt]

meeting Thatch one last time.

author's note: oh boy i made myself sad with this one contains: gn reader. angst. mention of death and curse words. word count: 1.6k

"This better not be some big scam.", you huff and puff as you make your way through the overgrown path in front of you. The sun was almost setting, dipping the sky in a warm gradient of pink and orange. Somewhere in the distance you could still hear the sea rushing, the busy noises and voices of the small village have long faded out.

Usually you don't believe in that kind of thing. You had passed that palm reading sign in front of a small stall earlier but found yourself being pulled back to it later that day, until you gave in to your curiosity. No harm in trying it... just for fun, see what the future possibly holds. You took a seat on the wooden stool in front of the old woman, where she took both of your hands into hers without comment. When you wanted to introduce yourself or well, just say a friendly hello at least, she signaled you with a piercing glance to be quiet before her eyes scanned your palms again, furrowing her brow. She was dressed in all black, opulent gold jewelry hanging from her neck and ears, countless rings on her fingers. Her aura was very capturing, you got very quiet all of sudden. Somehow you felt very exposed. Several minutes must have passed before she spoke again.

"You carry lots of unspoken words within you. You're grieving a love lost. You don't know where to put it down, the burden of being alive. Of being left behind. Your heart hasn't found rest... ever since."

Why were you crying? What was that lump in your throat? You try to pull your shaking hands away, but she doesn't let you go. With tears rolling down your cheek you look at her, unable to say a word. She read you like an open book, the side of yours that you were desperately trying to hide from the world. The old woman squeezed your hands, scooting closer to you over the table. When she stroked your cheek with her long, painted fingernails it felt like your skin was on fire. What was happening?

And so here you were. On your way to an abandoned temple where you could meet your dead lover one last time. At least that's what she told you. This was either a tourist trap or... could it be true? You kinda hated how badly you wanted to believe this was true. How your heart clung to every piece of hope that was left.

The path in front of you got narrower the deeper you wandered into the forest, just as the old woman had described it to you. You must be close now. And just like that, the temple was right in front of you.

It must be a very old building, parts of it in ruins. Nature had taken over, moss and other plants taking back what was theirs anyway. It was so quiet here, almost peaceful. As if you had reached the end of the world. You approach the old building cautiously, dignified. Somehow you couldn't help but feel so small, struck with the vastness of the universe. How you might not wander this earth anymore one day but this, this right here, would still be there long after you were gone. It was oddly comforting.

If you didn't meet him here, then hopefully in the next life. Maybe somewhere beyond the stars. And your hearts will recognize each other once again, dancing a slow waltz and sinking into each other's arms like the sun sinks into the sea every night.

"Oh, Thatch...", you whisper. Saying his name still hurts. The countless times you cried it into the dark with no response. The claw marks on your heart it had left.

Someone is calling out your name, an echo from the past.

Again.

You spin around on the spot, only to stumble a few steps back, falling down, covering your mouth in shock. Your legs have failed you and so has your voice. It felt like someone had punched you in the guts, offering you your own heart on a silver platter.

He says your name again. He smiles.

You want to scream but no sound leaves your lips.

When he crouches down to you, only a few inches apart, you start sobbing, burying your face in your hands. You were scared and you were relieved, a part of you wanted to believe this was a sweet dream and the other that this was a nightmare. Would he still be there when you open your eyes again?

He was.

He was.

"What the fuck, Thatch.", you whined, wiping your eyes with your sleeve. He grinned, with tears in his eyes. He looked just like you remembered him. How you saw him the last time. His hair in a messy half-bun, the yellow silk scarf you gifted him loosely wrapped around his neck, a simple white shirt that revealed his hairy chest, the one you took the best naps of your life on. A life that was taken from you and replaced with vast darkness.

"I know, right."

"Can we touch?"

He shakes his head, smiling wistfully. Of course not. What did you expect? Your head was spinning, unable to comprehend what was happening. How he could just be there when it's been three years since he... was not.

"Can we at least lie down together then? Because I don't think my legs are cooperating right now anyway."

"We can do that, my love."

A wave of warmth hits you. My love. The two of you lie down next to each other on the moss-covered floor of the temple, facing the deep-purple night sky through the ruins. A few heartbeats in silence pass, before you speak up again.

"You should have eaten the fucking fruit."

"It wouldn't have changed a thing."

You roll over to your side, facing him. Your fingers wanted to trace his face like you did countless times when the two of you shared a bed. A bed you could still share, if things went different. If. The word haunted you.

"Maybe you're wrong. Maybe things would have been different. Maybe I wouldn't have to speak with an illusion of my dead partner on the floor of fucking nowhere. Maybe I could have had an alive partner in our shared bed again, one that could hold me, one I had a future with. One I dared to dream with. You. I could have still had you."

Tears well up in your eyes again. You don't know where all this rage was coming from. No, that was a lie. You knew. You've been carrying it with you for the past three years. The anger of the ones who got left behind. The feeling you never allowed yourself to feel.

"I'm so incredibly lonely, Thatch. Fucking lonely. Ever since you've been gone, it feels like I'm breathing underwater. There are days where I'm close to giving up just to be with you again, but life always pulls me back. When it should be you who pulls me into his arms. My loneliness eats me alive."

You're both crying, silently. With your words still echoing you reach out your hand and only grasp nothingness. Thatch turns his head to look at you, his eyes full of woe. His voice is hoarse.

"I would give everything just to hold you one last time again. Everything. But I'm a dead man and I have nothing left to give except this last farewell, one that was stolen from us. You were the last thing on my mind. You always were."

You weep bitterly, curling up on the cold floor. Your heart beating an unsteady rhythm, it was stumbling and falling. Devoured by grief.

"Thatch. You were... you are the love of my life. When I met you, I had given up on love and then you just took my heart into your big hands, god, your hands. You took my heart and gave it a home. You were my home. My one and only."

You pause, struggling for air between your sobs.

"I feel so stupid for saying this, but all I wanted for us was a simple life. A place for just the two of us, after we've sailed every sea out there, and experienced everything together with our crew. I dreamt of settling down with you. And now all I'm left with is the fear of forgetting what your voice sounded like. Of forgetting what your face looked like in the morning, with your hair down and the sun kissing you before I could. Of forgetting how your hand in mine felt."

Thatch faces you, stretching out a hand and then remembering, again. His eyes were the saddest you have ever seen before, tears streaming down his face.

"Did you find the ring?"

You nod, wiping away some tears with only more following. With shaky hands you fumble for the necklace hidden underneath your shirt. You pull out the golden necklace he once gave you for your birthday, the ring he never had the chance to give you, dangling from it.

"Yeah."

You both lie there in silence. No words could grasp what you felt.

"Promise me, that you'll find me again in the next life, y/n? And the one after that? And that you'll wait for me over there in the sun, soaking it up with your eyes closed like you always did? I'm gonna ask you again then. And over and over again. I'll keep my promise this time. I love you. I love you so much. My love for you is eternal. You, you are the love that set my soul on fire. I love you. I'm forever yours. I love you, okay?"

How do you say goodbye to the love of your life? A goodbye you didn't get the chance to say out loud? Badly, apparently. With rage and a shaking voice, with a heart on fire and empty hands. With love. With love. With love.