#it frustrates the hell out of me when she cries and howls and is tearing shit up

[captain-daryn]

Is it too much to ask for one night of uninterrupted sleep? I haven’t had one in over 2 weeks now and it’s really starting to get to me.

[thedaremaster]

Voices in my head.

Ever since I was little

I’ve had voices in my head

So lonely I was

Peers didn’t understand what I said

So I talked to the voices in my head.

As I got older they started to change

The things they said were more than just play

They got harsher, angrier,

It made me a lot sadder.

I still had no friends

Except for the voices in my head.

I learned to shut the world out.

My land of make-believe

Served to be enough for me.

And I stayed there,

Because the world wasn’t ready for me.

Nor was I.

And I talked to the voices in my head.

Named them, a person inside my own head.

Except for one.

More darker than the rest.

He was mean

Said things like how “I was better off dead.”

And sometimes when I was really down.

I believed it.

When I was sad, I imagined all the others hugging my heart together.

Squeezing that muscle that somehow was so so fragile,

Even after everything.

I wish I wasn’t me.

All I had in my life were my words and my stories.

I wasn’t meant to make it in the analytical and critical parties.

And I was so so frustrated, because I was never good enough.

I was never good enough,

For myself.

And the voice reiterated my failures like a death chant

I wondered if it would all stop, if I could just end this stupid dance.

Of my authentic self, and the one I so desperately wanted to be.

I hated me.

And the voices inside my head kept talking.

When I met her, the voices stopped.  For a second, that became a minute,

That became an hour, which turned to a day, then to a week.

My mind was silent.

I loved it.

They broke through sometimes, and I would snap.  Like the hurt little girl I was.

That never gave herself a chance.  

But thankfully they were quiet, most of the time.

When she was gone, they came creeping around again.

I couldn’t help but hold on to the words she said.

A promise to be my forever friend.

God save me.

Those voices were quiet.

Til they came back.

Roaring, louder than ever.

This time all of them unified into one big angry tower.

Of pain and hurt and anguish.

My inner child couldn’t handle it.

I broke down.

Again and again.

Recycled those broken pieces back again.

Foundation wasn’t strong enough.  I wasn’t tough enough.

Then I met him.  It was the same as the first, the voices were quiet,

And I reveled in the silence.

I came back, again and again.  So young and innocent, thinking I had found a forever friend.

Turns out, it was all a lie.  Took me 5 years to come back to my

Senses, to not blindly hate him.  

Hell hath no fury than child whose loyalty was fucking shredded.

And the voices cried out for blood

But I gave them tears instead.

I was so broken,

And yet the war still raged in my head.

Found a brother

From another mother.

And slowly I came back. Piece by piece,

Someone who I could talk to

A place where I could finally be me.

A young love so delicately nurtured.

By unsure fingers, and a weary soldier.

Slowly, slowly, slowly.

The voices were still there, but they were kind of quiet.

Foxy eyes, a convenient slip of tongue.

He found out. And I thought I was done.

The secret I desperately wanted to keep.

Was out in the open before I was ready to take a leap

Of bravery, stupidity, who knew what I was thinking.

And I floundered in the fear that it would all go down

In the same flames, that my young heart had been cauterized in.

And the voices howled in victory, at my obvious defeat.

Til it wasn’t

The lines were unclear.

But it wasn’t as bad as I had feared.

Honestly.  I guess it was better that way.

Better than I had ever prayed.

Hey let’s go out today

Try something new.

Ok

I spent three years in the gray area

“Trying to figure out what I was meant to do” era

And again I was casted aside.

Because I wasn’t “just right”

Now I’m almost 18

And sometimes those voices still scream

Their catastrophic symphonies

But now I’m only half-listening.

Cause I’m still alive

This is my fighting chance.

To change the story.

One last dance.

These voices and I,

Still play games in my mind.

I haven’t grown up yet, so I’m told.

But I might.

And as long as I’m here tonight.

I will hold that pen and write.

All these things I know

You know.

And it feels just right.

And those voices are quiet.

[biisexualemma]

stop. peter parker

word count: 1.3k

warnings: blood, hurt, graphic, needles?

requested: no

plot: you have no control over your actions or your powers and end up hurting peter

a/n: i have so many stories like this just stored away that i have written over the years and not posted. some of them are trash but i found this yesterday and i loved it too much not to share! hope you like it! there will be a part 2 before you ask and yes it is already written so you don't have to wait years to find out what happens!

part 2 / masterlist

"please," your eyes followed the sound of his voice. his mask torn from his head, blood soaking the suit he wore. but still, he watched you, hopelessly, his brown eyes stung with fear. "don't— don't hurt her," he was pleading, desperately. 

you could feel the man's arm suffocating your chest, keeping you still. you also felt the cold pinch of a needle he was holding to your neck, not quite piercing the skin. your hands were scraping and pulling at his arm, trying despairingly to make him let go.

peter was under the weight of a few very large men, all struggling to keep him down so he was forced to watch. you whimpered at the sight of his helpless cries for the man to let you go.

the needle poked through the skin of your neck, your eyes wide and full of fear. "no— no!" peter was screaming for you, tears now welling up in your eyes and falling fast. he struggled harder against the men holding him down, thrashing his injured body around in a desperate attempt to break free. "get—get your hands off her— i swear to god i'll kill you—" he managed to fight out of the grip of one of the men, his hand now loose and shooting his webs around he managed to release himself.

it was too late, the needle pinched uncomfortably in your throat, your mouth falling open as a different kind of pain surged through your body.

peter slung a web at the guys hand, yanking him so hard, he dropped the needle, his face slamming onto the floor. he edged closer to you, ignoring the howl of pain from the man on the floor who held onto his bloody nose.

"y/n— it's ok— mr stark will make you better— i promise. i promise, alright? please, please just be ok—"

your mind fell blank, blinking a few times as the boy with chocolate brown eyes stared at you distraught. your vacant expression set off alarm bells in peters mind. he carefully lifted his hands and placed them on your shoulders. at the first contact, you slapped his hands away, lifting your foot and kicking him hard in the torso. winded, peter hurled over, groaning with a dull pain. you took this opportunity, grabbing his hunched shoulders and lifted your knee to slam it into his nose.

the bloodied boy fell backwards, stumbling and falling to the ground. his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes full of tears, he didn't understand what was happening. the serum must be altering your brain, he couldn't think why else you would turn on him.

the man clutching his nose, slowly regained his composure, clambering back onto his feet. he let out a sickening laugh, blood gushing from his nose and down his face. he took a step closer to you, leaning close into your ear. peter scrambled to shoot his webs once more, finding he was out of web fluid. he let out a cry of frustration.

"kill him," peter heard him loud and clear. "kill the boy.”

peters frown fell from his face, a look of horror replaced it when you nodded obediently, you slowly edged closer to where he was shuffling away on the floor.

in a last attempt to get help faster, he moved to his comms. "mr stark— they injected a serum into her— she's gonna kill me and she's gonna regret it and i can't let her live with that so if you'd kindly— hurry the hell up, that would be great."

there was a pause for a moment before tony responded. "almost there kid, hold her off till we get there."

you continued to walk closer to him, peter shuffling backwards on his hands trying to get further away from you.

"you know i can't do that— i won't hurt her, she doesn't know what she's doing—"

"peter she has no idea who you are, you have to fight back or she will kill you before we get there," nat's voice was desperate on the other end, images flashing in her mind of just how bad this situation was about to become. she couldn't picture you blank, emotionless, void of anything. you were the most feeling, loving person she knew. if you hurt peter, she knew you wouldn't be able to live with yourself or your powers again.

peter shook his head, he couldn't do it. he'd rather take a beating than harm you.

you held out your hand, green sparks flying from your fingertips towards peter. using your powers, you lifted peter from where he was balled up on the floor, watching him squirm trying to resist you. you tilted your head slightly, holding him just off the ground, his feet stretching to try and grip onto the floor.

you felt nothing, you watched him squirm like the spider he was, neither enjoying or hating what you were doing him.

"y/n," his voice strained, causing you to frown. at the sound of your name, you swished your hands to your right, his body following your movements and slamming into a nearby wall. he let out a pained groan, his body slipping down the wall. "s—stop—" he wheezed, holding a hand to his chest where he now felt sharp pains. you were undoubtedly much stronger than him, even if he wanted to fight back, he wouldn't last long. "you don't know what you're doing— please."

anger pulsed through your veins as he plead with you. frustrated you couldn't understand what he meant, you clutched your hand into a fist mid air, peter letting out a gasp for air, feeling his airways constrict. you pulled him up from the ground once more without having to lay a finger on him, holding him out in front of you, choking the life out of him.

peter's eyes were sad and desperate. "you love me— i— i know you do— don't— just— you know me," he choked, his voice coming out hoarse. "peter parker— we're best— best friends and you love me— i love you," your face contorted with fear and confusion listening to him. you shook your head, quickly this shifted back to anger.

you slammed him down onto the floor, a loud crack coming from his ankle as he fell hard against the concrete. you towered over him, hands held out to finish him off when he lifted his hands up in defence.  you faltered, watching him quiver, his hands shaking violently.

"y/n y/l/n— that's you— please remember— just listen— please— i won't hurt you—"

"fight back!" the man shouted at peter, watching frustratedly as peter cowered on the floor below you.

"no!" peter's voice cracked, you knitted your brows. you knelt down, crushing his chest with your knee. your face now hovering over his, eyes darting between his. "i don't want to hurt you," he murmured quietly under the pressure you were applying to his chest. peter could see his vision spotting from what he suspected was a concussion and a lack of oxygen. still he did nothing to stop you.

"stop," you gritted your teeth but made no further move to hurt him. he moved his arm up, trying to touch your face. your hand snapped up, grabbing his wrist to halt him. he watched your eyes move from where your fingertips pressed against his suit, quickly back to his face. "stop," you said weaker.

you didn't fight him when he moved his hand away from yours and up to your face. his clothed fingers touched your cheek before running down your neck and into your hair. you were visibly distressed, trying to unravel your own mind. your eyelashes fluttered, suddenly heavy and wet with tears when you felt him gently squeeze the back of your neck, your breath caught in your throat.

you released some of the pressure from his chest, a sudden wave of reality rushed over you as you stared down at peter, his hand in your hair and his eyes full of tears. a gasp left your lips but was quickly knocked out of you because before you could fully understand the situation, you felt a searing pain and everything went black.

[henqtic]

Hi, I love your writing so much! :) Could I request a dracoxreader where the reader is having a really bad day and he ends up comforting & cuddling her until she stops crying and eventually falls asleep in his arms. He just admires her while she's sleeping and is really sweet to her when she wakes up

𝘣𝘢𝘥 𝘥𝘢𝘺

pairing: draco malfoy x fem!reader

word count: 1.0k (1064)

authors note: thank you so much,, I’m glad you like my writing !! also sorry for this thing so long, i actually started it around when you sent it but then my brain just shut down and i couldn’t really figure out how exactly i wanted to write everything but here it is— with the end sort of changed up :)

masterlist. // taglist form. // request works. // picture creds.

—————————

you were having a horrible day and there was no other way to describe it. really, you searched, high and low for a way to see it in a brighter light but you just couldn’t. from start to middle and to now, what you would call the end, there was no positive connotation for how you felt.

first, you’d woken up late from none of your dorm mates taking the time to get you up. they left some note on the dresser saying that they tried but every time you’d raise your head, you’d just bury yourself amongst the blankets again. and that shouldn’t have been a big deal nor should it have made a huge dent in your day, but once you checked the clock which the paper was stuck to, you cringed at the fact that you had missed the entirety of breakfast.

so then you were late to transfigurations for the fourth time that week, earning a very passive aggressive lecture from professor mcgonagall on why it was imperative to be on time and not to be off ‘dilly dallying’ when you were supposed to be learning.

and that would've also been okay because you completely understood where her frustration was coming from, even though the idea of why you’d been late in the first place was totally off and completely wrong—

you were just a heavy sleeper who needed to set more alarms that would wake you up rather than everyone else except you.

but no, it wasn’t that simple, she had to do it in front of the whole class, one filled with some of the most obnoxious gryffindors who you’d ever met. some threw disgusted looks while others went as far as whistling and howling because malfoy’s girlfriend showed up looking like she’d just rolled out of his bed.

—

everything had gone well— until your third lesson when you accidentally knocked over a jar of a very hard to obtain ingredient on your way out to lunch. and snape was quick to blame it on you, not the fact that if it was so hard to harvest, maybe the best place to store it wasn’t in glass on the edge of a table.

nevertheless, he made you stay back to clean the mess by hand when the same job with magic with less time wasted— by the time you did get there, nearly all of the good foods were gone and so was your boyfriend who you were ready to vent to about the whole thing.

“he had to go to the library to tutor that first year, he made me save you this piece of cake though,” daphne explained, handing you a piece of lemon cake wrapped up in a brown napkin, your favorite.

“thanks daph,” you smiled, feeling that your day was improving and that you could save your little rant for the end of the day.

“no problem.”

—

but it didn’t. no, your day didn’t improve in the slightest. because now your stomach was tightening, glancing down at the big red T staining the charms exam that you'd spent a bunch of time studying for.

it was staring right back at you, like a taunt that all of your hard work had gone to waste, and professor flitwick's look of disappointment didn’t help at all.

so you knew by the time you’d got out of the illuminated room and to the gloomy dungeons you were crying, taking advantage of the dark lighting as your shoes pattered against the stone floor.

and once you made it to the entrance of the slytherin common room, muttering the three syllable password that draco had given you earlier that week and walking up the long staircase, you made sure you looked presentable. not a tear in sight like you’d had the best day in the world. but still, for safe measure, your eyes were wiped once more before knocking on the door.

“come in!” you heard a comforting voice call out from the other side of the wooden door.

you slowly turned the knob and walked in, putting your bag down and untying the fabric around your neck without making a single piece of eye contact with him in hope that he wouldn’t notice your current state.

“oh love it’s just you, you know you don’t have to knock,” he said before not fully relaxing into the bed, concerned at how long it was taking you to undo a tie.

“are you alright?”

“course i am,” you lied, turning around and mustering up the best smile you could still causing him to look at you skeptically.

“that’s good, how was your day then?” he asked, trying to go at the situation in the best way, not expecting your face to fall at the question.

he was being genuine and it was something you should've expected since he asked it every time you’d go through this routine but no, no, no, he should've asked something different because it’s just what pushed you over the edge. 

your lip quivered as that gut wrenching feeling that you hadn't felt in a long time came, a pit forming in your stomach until it traveled up to your throat and there was no way to swallow it back down. your eyes started to water as you shook your head, trying to tell him no without talking because you knew if you did, it wouldn't end up well for you. and he already knew that because immediately after he saw the signs, he enveloped you in his arms.

you weren’t a person who cried often, not even that time you fell off your quidditch broom, you refused to do it because it ‘hadn't hurt that bad’ and it would seriously concern him sometimes, on why you were so intent on not doing it. but he hadn’t asked any questions knowing how you’d like to be treated in these times, you didn't want to be bombarded with solutions or asks or told that you would get and feel better, but just to be held until it passed.

so that’s what he did, let you cry it out until his shirt was wet with salty tears, knowing that when you did wake up, he'd figure out the mess on his own and make you feel better over whatever happened throughout the oh so terrible day.

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[spunkpunx]

Say You Love Me - Jimmy Darling

Plot: Reader is heartbroken when she hears Jimmy has lost his hands, but when they're replaced he decides to make up for lost time

Word count: 3105

Warnings: Smut, Smoking, Mild violence

The words hit me like a ton of bricks when Dell brought the news. Jimmy's hands were gone. My Jimmy's hands were gone. Taken. That no good piece of shit Richard Spencer and his lies. I couldn't believe Elsa had fallen for his bollocks, but I supposed that was his game. The rest of the freaks stood in shock.

"Oh no, not Jimmy!" Ima cried over dramatically. I felt my blood boil. My skin crawled as she wailed. I felt my ears burn up with my rage. She'd been here not five minutes and here she was, caterwauling over what they had done to him. I couldn't out loud admit what I felt about Jimmy, but I sure as hell could let it be known how I felt about her. I ran at her and swung one hard punch to the side of her head. The force did not knock her over, but the shock certainly did. 

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" I spat out the words repeatedly as I continued to hit her face and chest once she had fallen. I felt my eyes prick as I screamed at her, before Paul and Eve pulled me away. The second the anger cleared I collapsed in tears. Penny came over to me as Eve followed Dell out the tent. She held me tight as I sobbed into her chest. Ima was taken out the tent, bloodied and bruised and sniveling. I lifted my head only to spit in her direction.

"Shh, shh," Penny cooed, stroking my hair. 

"What have they done to him?" I whimpered, my voice coming out far more feeble and cracked then I had ever heard it. "How's he going to survive in there without his hands?"

"I don't know," Penny told me, honestly. "I'm sure he'll find a way."

She took me back to my caravan and I poured myself a drink. I pulled an ashtray out the cupboard and lit a cigarette.

"You don't have to watch over me Penny. I'm sure you probably best go check on your man."

"I don't want to leave you like this," she admitted, sat delicately on the edge of my bed. She was still so beautiful, despite the lizard tattoo, and so kind as well. I couldn't bear to be around anyone at the minute though.

"I'll be fine," I told her softly, but when she didn't move I snapped at her. "Piss off! I don't want you here!" I hadn't meant to be so harsh, but she gathered herself up and left. I knocked back my drink in one. It burned my eyes and stung my throat but I hoped for my own sake it would help me sleep.

I went through more alcohol and more cigarettes. My ashtray overflowed. My head was spinning as I reached toward the bottom of the bottle. With my head heavy I fell over into my bed and pulled the covers round myself, only bothering to clumsily remove my shoes before shutting my eyes tight and trying to forget my thoughts. I lay there, my mind playing a reel of horrors of what could have happened to Jimmy. I pictured him beaten in a jail cell, battered to death like Meep was, or sat in despair at his own situation. I knew he couldn't have killed those women, even if he didn't, because he was here in this caravan when it happened. I knotted my fingers into my hair, reeling drunk. I was just as bad as he had been. 

I eventually passed out, but kept waking, sweaty and restless after nightmares. At one point my stomach turned and I chugged up my guts off the side of my bed. I rolled back over after that and caught half an hours rest before I woke again. The night went on like that until the sun rose and Eve came in to get me up. 

"Oh sweetheart," she muttered upon seeing my sorry state. She delicately picked her way to the bed past the vomit and brought me out of bed to go sit on the seat I had. I blubbered pathetically while she tossed a towel over my mess and brought me a glass of water. I was still slightly drunk, but tried to be as co-operative as possible. Eve sat next to me, pulling me in for a hug while I continued to feel like a maudlin burden on her. She took me over to have breakfast with the others, and I hiccuped my way through some bread and butter, as everyone threw pitiful stares my way. I began to sober up. 

"I'm sorry, Eve. I'm sorry I'm so useless."

"Don't be silly, come with me," she directed, taking my hand and leading me away from the show ground. As we walked further away I wiped my eyes with my sleeve.

"It's awful nice of you to try cheer me up but I'd rather not go anywhere," I told Eve, following her through the undergrowth. We passed the spot where Ethel had ended her life, which brought back more memories of how Jimmy had been after she passed. My eyes welled, but I tried hard to keep it suppressed. I didn't want anyone to think I was being such a pathetic mess over Jimmy Darling. I didn't want to be another of the freaks that he's fucked and now loves him.

"It's Elsa who said you ought to come here," Eve explained. It was probably her plan to distract me from my wallowing, or punish me for what I did to Ima. I expected hard labour ahead of me.  We reached a small barn with the doors locked. Eve produced a key, unlocking the chains. "Now listen. Elsa says its your job to look after him," she instructed pulling the door open to let me see inside. It took me a minute to realise there was a bed, a bed and a familiar face. 

"Jimmy!" I gasped, rushing to his side. I burst into tears again, this time from pure relief. "Oh baby your hands!" 

By his side lay two bloodied stumps wrapped in bandage. His eyes filled with tears when he looked at me. 

"Princess I haven't ever seen you cry before," he told me lightheartedly, but his voice cracked and he wept. I placed my hand on his face and he leaned into my touch as I wiped his tear with my thumb. I turned back to give Eve a thank you but she had left. I turned to Jimmy. 

"I thought you were gonna be gone forever," I told him, sniffling. 

"Me too baby." I bent down and pressed my lips down against his. We shared a salty kiss. I felt him flinch hard and cut off the kiss when he lifted his arm hold me. He immediately broke down in tears again. "I'm never going to be able to hold you again," he whimpered, and I sensed that there was certainly more to it than that. It stung to see him in such a sorry state.

"Oh Jimmy don't upset yourself," I tried to comfort him. "I have to change your bandages. Okay?" He shook his head. "I let you do it for me," I reminded him.

"Well you have no fucking idea how much it hurts," he snapped. I understood his frustration, but I couldn't help but pull away, hurt. His eyes softened. "I'm sorry (y/n), I just... I just don't know what I'm gonna do."

"Hold, still." I ran my hand down his arm slowly until I reached the bandage trying to cause minimum pain. I unwrapped it slowly, Jimmy putting on a brave face. As I pulled the bloodied part away from his wound he flinched and gritted his teeth. "This is really gonna sting," I warned as I poured alcohol onto cotton to clean his injury. He bit down on his pillow and nodded for me to go ahead. I wiped it as gently as I could and tried to ignore his muffled howl. "I'm sorry." He let the pillow from his teeth.

"You have nothing to be sorry about, doll," he assured, breathless from pain. I took his stump in my hands, wrapping it in bandage.

"I tried to tell the police it wasn't you, but they wouldn't listen."

"It might have been me, I was there, I was blind drunk."

"It wasn't, Jimmy. You were in my caravan. You said you loved me."

"I do." He looked at me sincerely. I avoided his eye, focusing my attention back to binding up his arm.

"You don't Jimmy, you love Maggie, you only wanted me because you were scared she might leave you and you thought I wouldn't." I sighed. 

"That's not true, I kept coming back because I love you." Tears pricked my eyes again. He probably thought Maggie had left and was settling for me. I tied off the bandage and he raised his arm up to my face, sucking in his breath sharply as his stump brushed my cheek. "And you love me too."

"No, I don't," I lied. He watched me, his stare breaking me apart like it always had.

"Paul came by before you. I haven't seen you cry once before, (y/n), but he said you have been tearful all morning. He also told me about Ima," he teased, smugly. I didn't know it was possible to sound both so weak and so smug at the same time. 

"I was worried, it doesn't mean-" 

"Please just tell me it does. Just tell me you love me, it's all I ever wanted to hear." I let out a breath I never realised I was holding.

"I love you, Jimmy Darling." He smiled at me. I reached into my jacket pocket, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it before taking a few draws. I put it between his lips for him so he could take a puff. 

"Look at me," he complained. "Can't even hold my own cigarette."

"Hush now Jimmy. Things will take time," I reassured him, to little effect. We shared the rest of the cigarette and I moved round to change the bandage on the other side. Jimmy didn't speak until I'd finished and stood up to leave.

"Thank you, (y/n)," he said sincerely. I went back to his bedside, leaned down a pressed a chaste kiss to his lips.

"I'll be here to change your bandages again tomorrow,"  I told him softly.

Although Elsa had not left, she had still sold the show to Chester, who although had a definite screw loose, seemed harmless enough. He was bright, chirpy and certainly not bossy. His odd qualities only came from the wooden ventriloquist doll he was so attached to. The twins seemed quite smitten with him, and, if I didn't know any better, I'd say they were screwing him. 

I was civil with Maggie after her trickery, especially knowing how difficult the world could be, but Jimmy had far from forgiven her. This was a hard situation to negotiate. She had asked about him, and I knew she cared, but Jimmy was set in his hatred of her. It was hard to sympathise with a woman who had been part in a scheme resulting in the death of Ma Petite and the loss of Jimmy's hands. For the most part I told the truth. Jimmy was not going to soften any time soon.

I apologised to Ima too, hard as it was. She didn't really take my apology, but it hardly bothered me. It was mainly for the sake of the others, and to keep the peace. 

That night, Dell was shot. He, it turned out, had been the one to kill Ma Petite. I felt bad for his death. As shitty as his actions were, I always felt he was trying his hardest for a better life. Still, killing another freak was unforgivable, and Ma Petite was innocence itself. It was my job to deliver the news to Jimmy, which was horrible.

"He was my father!" 

"I know Jimmy! I'm sorry!"

"Don't you dare start apologising for those murderers, (y/n)!"

"Jimmy he killed Ma Petite!" I ended up snapping. "He killed an innocent and he paid the price." Jimmy broke down into tears again, and I ended up wrapping my arms around him.

"I'm losing everything."

"Come on, baby. It hurts to see you cry so much," I mumbled into his neck. He sobbed into my shoulder.

"Don't ever leave me (y/n). Don't ever break my heart.”

The day Jimmy's hands were ready was the happiest I had seen him in months. I came into the barn again to see him, when I spotted him sat on the bed. The moment he saw me he stood up and rushed toward me. I opened my arms to him and he caught me in his grasp, lifting me off my toes. He kissed me, properly. His dark eyes seemed full of hope. I took his arms from around me and held one of his new hands in mine. Mr. Dolcefino had created perfect wooden hands, still with Jimmy's finger shapes. They were works of art.

"They're beautiful, baby," I told him, smiling.

"They ain't half as functional as they were, but my hands have never looked so good."

"Your hands always looked good." I kissed him again, harder this time. He pulled me flush against him.

"It kills me I can't touch you the same baby," he told me, running his wrists down my side in place of his hands.

"I don't care, Jimmy. I love you," I said, and it was the first time I'd said it since he asked me to. He pulled me in again for another kiss, slipping his tongue into my mouth and pushing the backs of my knees against the bed. "Easy tiger," I teased.

"I haven't held you in so long (y/n)," he replied, pushing himself even closer to me, my body flush with his own. I felt him, hard against my thigh. I kissed him again, hard, and let him push me onto the bed, his own weight on top of mine. He began to nip at my neck, and I sighed contentedly. He went to cup my breast with his hand, but came short when he realised his hands could not move the same, could not feel. "Baby, I'm sorry," he apologised, sitting up on his knees and pulling away. I sat up with him and put my hands around his neck, fiddling with the hair at its nape.

"You aren't giving up that easy are you?" I jibed. "After all, you have a mouth in perfect working order." He grinned at me, pulling me into another hungry kiss. He nibbled down my neck again.

"I'm afraid you're going to have to undress yourself, doll." I did as instructed, pulling my jumper over my head while Jimmy watched. He returned to kissing my collarbone as I undid my bra. His kisses travelled over my breasts, wooden hand against my side. He kissed along my chest, eventually moving to take one of my nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue over it as I sighed. He bit down on it and I yelped, scolding him lightly by giving him a little slap on the arm. He grinned again at my reaction, before kissing his way down my sternum. He stopped for a second, giving me an opportunity to pull my trousers off for him. I went to pull my underwear down but he stopped me, instead using his teeth to pull them down and bringing them the rest of the way with his prosthetic. I laughed at his actions, until he buried his face into my heat, licking over my clit again and again. I felt myself get quickly wetter as he flicked his tongue up my slit. His attention went back to my clit, circling it as I dug my fingers into his hair, pulling at it and moaning as I did. I felt my cheeks flush when he came back up the bed to kiss me again, my taste still on his lips. "I'm feeling a little uncomfortable in these pants, do you think you can help doll?" he asked. I happily obliged.

"Of course baby." I pulled his shirt of his shoulders slowly, the removed his vest, taking my time to run my hands all across his chest and take it all in again. I ran my hand over his stomach and reached to palm him through his trousers. He groaned and closed his eyes. Then I took off the trousers, getting him to sit up in order to help me. I could see the shame in his eyes so as soon as they were off I kissed him hard and put my hands into his pants, stroking his cock. He let out the most delicious moan into the kiss. After a minute of this we were both desperate for it so I bit his earlobe and pulled his cock out of his pants, guiding it to the right place. He pushed into me slowly.

"Fuck," he swore, before capturing my mouth with his and thrusting again. I let out another moan into his mouth as he bit down hard on my lip. He pressed wet kisses into my neck, speeding up his thrusts with considerable lack of control. It had been a while since we had sex, so the desperation in his movements was very apparent. He let out the most beautiful gasps and moans, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, tangling my fingers into his hair as he continued to nip and suck at my collarbone. I tugged at his brown curls and he groaned breathily. He recaptured my lips in his own and I let out a moan as he pushed deeper into me.

"Jimmy," I panted into his ear, before pulling on his earlobe with my teeth. He let out what was almost a growl and fucked me even harder. I felt myself drawing closer to finishing and let out a desperate string of swears.

“Come on, baby doll, fuckin finish for me,” Jimmy murmured deeply, kissing along my jaw and neck before biting down on my collarbone. I let out a gasp as I felt a wave of pleasure over me, clenching around him and digging my nails into his back. He kept going, his thrusts sloppy, coaxing me through my orgasm until a faltering moan fell from his lips and he pulled out, spilling his load onto my stomach. He lay on top of me, spent, and I pulled my fingers through his hair, running my nails against his scalp.

“You really love me?” I asked, as his hot breath brushed my neck. Before he answered he pressed soft kisses against my shoulder.

“Of course I do, doll face.”

[stolen-pen-name23]

13 for the prompts? (If it hasn’t been done yet) with obi wan and qui gon because yes 💜

I sure can! Thank you for the prompt! // From these prompts.

So I think I'm going to actually write a prequel chapter (or 2) for this fic later, so keep an eye out for that!

Anyway, here ya go:

---

As a Jedi connected to the Living Force, Qui-Gon has greater respect than most for life — human or otherwise. So for a practitioner of the Living Force, it is a little unusual for him to feel this homicidal.

No, Qui-Gon has rarely felt rage quite like this.

Of course, he does not want the people… No, wait. "People" is too kind of a word for them. He does not want the vermin slavers who did this to his Padawan to die. He just wants them to suffer for a bit. Suffer like his Padawan is currently suffering — and maybe a bit more after that.

“Let me go!” Obi-Wan screams, pulling on the restraints holding him in place on the bed. Neither Qui-Gon nor Vokara Che had wanted to do this — not after Obi-Wan had just been freed from chains — but he was clawing at his skin and objects around the room had started floating with every aimless gesture of his hands. “Please, Master, let me go,” he begs, his voice raw from screaming.

“Soon, Padawan, soon,” Qui-Gon soothes. “The drugs just need to work their way through your system.”

The logic was lost on Obi-Wan. The young man before him, just barely 18, looks as though he has been betrayed.

“Let me go. Please let me go. I need to stop it, I need…”

“Stop what?” Qui-Gon prods, hoping that humoring his padawan will help him work through it faster.

“Stop him.”

“Who?”

“The man!” he says it plainly like it is a well-known fact who the man is.

“What man?”

“The man with the scar on his eye.”

Qui-Gon tries to think through everyone he knows. He can’t think of a single person with a scar on their eye.

“What is the man’s name?”

“I don’t know,” Obi-Wan says, frustration mixing into the fear that hangs potent in his Force presence.

“Why do you have to stop him?”

Obi-Wan stops straining against his bonds and his eyes clear momentarily. The sudden stillness feels heavy — like something lying in wait.

“He will tear everything down,” Obi-Wan turns to look at Qui-Gon and his eyes are clear and certain. “Everything.”

A chill runs down Qui-Gon’s spine.

Then the fog returns. Obi-Wan strains against his bonds once more.

“Let me go. Let me out. I’m not supposed to be here!”

“You are exactly where you need to be, my Padawan.”

“No no no no no.” There is a crazed look of hysteria in his eyes. It is so unnatural an expression for his Padawan, Qui-Gon almost cannot bear to look. But he looks anyway because he swore to stand by his Padawan’s side through all things, even this.

“Stop!” Obi-Wan screams. “Stop it! Please! I don’t want to hurt you!”

Qui-Gon shifts uncomfortably. “Who are you talking to?” he asks.

“You were my brother!”

What?

“You… Obi-Wan, you don’t have a brother,” Qui-Gon stutters. Who is he talking about?

Obi-Wan tosses his head to the side and then tosses it again until he’s looking at Qui-Gon.

“Let me go!” Obi-Wan yells.

“So there’s been no change huh?” A female voice cuts in.

Qui-Gon jumps. His attention was so fixed on Obi-Wan, he didn't notice Vokara Che slip into the room.

“What the hell did they drug him with?” Qui-Gon growls, his anger threatening to spill over at just the thought of the slavers and what they did to Obi-Wan.

“We’re still running tests on his blood. But we narrowed it down to some sort of hallucinogen.”

“I could have told you that,” Qui-Gon mutters.

Vokara fixes him with one of her strongest glares.

“Apologies, Master Che,” he amends. “I am just concerned for him.”

“I know,” Vokara says. Qui-Gon is grateful that she does not tell him to release his anxieties to the Force. He is not quite ready to part with them yet.

“Do you have any idea how long this will last?” Qui-Gon asks, hoping this nightmare will end soon.

“It’s hard to say. It depends on his body and how fast it works through the drugs. Hallucinogens can last six hours or they can last as long as fifteen hours.”

“It’s only been three hours,” Qui-Gon says, feeling sick at the possibility of his Padawan enduring this for twelve more hours.

Vokara squeezes his shoulder in sympathy. “He’s a strong boy,” Vokara said. “A strong young man, I should say,” she adds on. “He’ll make it through this. I can’t say for certain without knowing what exactly is in his system, but most hallucinogenic drugs don’t cause any permanent damage.” “Most?”

“What I’m saying is that I think your Padawan will be okay. I have him on an IV so he won’t get dehydrated, which is usually the biggest concern with hallucinogens.”

Qui-Gon turns his attention back to Obi-Wan. Sweat has matted his hair and his skin is a sickly pale color. His screaming has turned into sobbing.

“Why are you doing this to me?” he cries. He pulls at the restraints. “I don’t like these.”

“We don’t want you to hurt yourself,” Vokara says calmly. She runs a scanner over Obi-Wan’s body and looks at the readings. Whether it is good or bad, Qui-Gon is not sure. Her expression gave nothing away.

“If anything changes, please come get me,” Vokara says.

Qui-Gon nods. “Of course.”

Vokara takes her leave and Qui-Gon gives his undivided attention to Obi-Wan.

“Let me go,” Obi-Wan begs again.

“I can’t,” Qui-Gon says. “You heard Master Che. It’s for your own safety.”

Obi-Wan groans. “What is happening to me?”

Qui-Gon’s heart feels like it is breaking open in his chest.

“I’m so sorry that this is happening to you, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon says “You’ll be okay soon.”

“But what’s happening?” Obi-Wan asks. Qui-Gon is hopeful that this moment of partial clarity lasts. Obi-Wan has been giving him false hope over the past few hours. Moments of clarity, all chased away by delirium.

“You’ve been drugged,” Qui-Gon says.

“Oh. I feel weird. I feel… not good. Hot.”

“Do you want some water?” Qui-Gon asks.

Obi-Wan looks like he’s going to answer, but his eyes glaze over and he is no longer looking at Qui-Gon.

“I keep seeing…”

“Obi-Wan?” Qui-Gon asks.

“I see…”

“What do you see, Padawan?” Qui-Gon asks, hoping he’ll be able to help Obi-Wan realize his hallucinations aren’t real.

“No!” Obi-Wan screams.

Qui-Gon’s hope vanishes. With a sigh, he begins stroking Obi-Wan’s sweat-drenched hair, smoothing it out from all of his tossing and turning.

Hours of begging and screaming and pulling at restraints pass until it seems Obi-Wan’s body is exhausted beyond its limits. His howls turn to whimpers. His sobs turn to hitched breaths. And finally, he passes out. Qui-Gon sighs a breath of relief and prays to the Force that when his Padawan wakes up, he will be his Padawan once more.

***

Qui-Gon can sense Obi-Wan coming back to consciousness before he even notices him stirring. He squints at the bright light of the room and groans.

Obi-Wan tries to move his arm but is held back by the restraints still keeping him down. Panic sets itself in Obi-Wan’s widened eyes.

“Why am I… M-Master?” His chest heaves with growing panic and he starts pulling at the bonds with renewed vigor.

“Hey, hey, Obi-Wan. It’s me. You’re alright,” Qui-Gon says, moving into his line of sight. Obi-Wan stares at him, unblinking and terrified. “What do you see right now?”

Obi-Wan hesitates. “I see you. I… I see this room. There’s not much in it.”

“Okay, good. Can you take a few deep breaths for me while I got get Master Che?”

“You’re leaving?” Obi-Wan asks, his voice going an octave higher.

“Only for a moment. You need to get looked over before I can let you out of those things,” Qui-Gon says, gesturing to the restraints with disdain.

Obi-Wan eyes the restraints and nods his approval.

Qui-Gon races out to find Master Che and she follows him back to Obi-Wan’s room.

“Hello, Obi-Wan,” Vokara says in greeting. “Are you feeling better?”

He nods glumly but does not offer her much else.

“All right, well I’m just going to perform a quick examination okay?”

Obi-Wan nods his consent and Vokara gets to work.

“I’m going to take these restraints off of your hands and ankles all right?”

He nods vigorously and Vokara undoes the buckles. When his hands are freed, Obi-Wan rubs his wrists. They’ve been chaffed raw and the skin is an angry red.

Vokara does not judge. She does not say a word about the welts. She simply takes a jar of bacta gel and rubs it on Obi-Wan’s wrists.

“Those should feel better in a few hours,” she says. Vokara follows the gentle administration with a blood sample. She runs a scanner over his body.

“Your vitals are normal, which is a good sign,” Vokara says. “I’m going to run your labs, and after that, we can see about letting you go home to rest.”

No protests, no haggling, no complaints come from Obi-Wan at the prospect of staying in the halls of healing even longer. Even Vokara raises an eyebrow at this.

“Are you sure you’re feeling better?” she asks. “Any nausea? Headache?”

“A little,” he says softly. Vokara exchanges a glance with Qui-Gon at the admittance.

“That’s pretty normal,” she says. “Is there anything else bothering you? Any other pain?”

“Just tired.”

“That’s to be expected after what your body has been through.”

“Hmm.”

“I’m going to run these labs, but let me know if your headache gets worse or if you feel like you need to throw up.”

He nods obediently.

Vokara leaves Qui-Gon alone with his Padawan.

Obi-Wan’s face scrunches up in concentration.

“What is it, Padawan?”

“There was something… something important…” Obi-Wan starts. Some of his earlier panic starts to return and his chest begins to heave. “I saw it. I just… I don’t know...”

“Hush, it’s alright. None of it was real,” Qui-Gon soothes.

“No!” Obi-Wan says forcefully, and for a moment, Qui-Gon worries the drug has not completely left his system yet. “It was… it felt…”

“How did it feel?” Qui-Gon asks.

Fear, sorrow, and anguish all flash across Obi-Wan’s eyes. His fingers dance in a nervous tapping pattern on the frame of the bed.

“How did it feel?” Qui-Gon asks again.

Obi-Wan stops tapping his fingers.

“Like the end of all things.”

The young man is still, as though he is afraid that the next move he makes will set his visions on a path to fruition.

“You need to stay grounded, Padawan. Stay in the here and now.”

Anger flared in the Force — white-hot and foreign.

“Oh yeah? You try to stay grounded after you get kidnapped by slavers and then drugged with some unknown substance that makes you question everything you see and feel,” Obi-Wan snaps.

Qui-Gon gives him a moment. He needs a moment.

Obi-Wan’s face crumples and he buries his head in his hands. “I’m sorry,” he says, voice muffled by his own hands. His shoulders shake. “I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s alright, Padawan. You’ve been through a lot in the last 48 hours. I will not fault you for taking a tone with me.”

Obi-Wan offers him a strained laugh and he wipes at his eyes before looking back up at Qui-Gon. “I just…”

“Tell me, Padawan. Anything.”

“Is this real?”

“Yes, Obi-Wan. This is real.” Qui-Gon grabs Obi-Wan’s hand and squeezes it. “Feel this?”

Obi-Wan nods.

“That’s because it is real. You and I. Here and now. We are real.”

Obi-Wan takes in a shuddering breath. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Qui-Gon reaffirms.

Obi-Wan nods. “Okay.”

“Good.”

Qui-Gon reaches over and tugs on Obi-Wan’s braid.

“Hey!” Obi-Wan exclaims, rubbing his scalp. “What was that for?”

“For scaring me,” Qui-Gon says, giving Obi-Wan a faux look of reproach.

“Apologies, Master,” Obi-Wan says. “I’ll try not to let it happen again.”

“See that it doesn’t.”

Obi-Wan grins at him before yawning.

“You should get some rest.”

Obi-Wan shakes his head, but he yawns again.

“You are obviously tired,” Qui-Gon says, unimpressed. “Why don’t you want to sleep?”

“I don’t…”

“Yes, Padawan?”

“If I fall asleep, will you stay?” Obi-Wan finally says, his voice quiet and his cheeks flush with embarrassment. “You don’t have to,” he quickly adds on. “I just. I don’t want to be alone and I’m still not sure if any of this is real and I want it to be real, but I—”

“Of course I will stay,” Qui-Gon says. “You’re real, I’m real, and I’m staying.”

“Thanks, Master,” Obi-Wan says, his eyes fluttering closed.

Qui-Gon stays and keeps guard over Obi-Wan’s dreams.

[hangovercurse]

Under Pressure

You are under a lot of stress from work and your tics begin to act up. Luckily for you, Colson is there to help.

Request: “Could you do a Colson fic where the reader is his gf, and has tourettes, and maybe she has a bad tic day? If you can of course xx"

Colson X Reader

Warnings: Cursing, anxiety

A/N: I tried my best to make this as accurate as possible but I am putting this out there; I do not have Tourette’s nor any experience with Tourette Syndrome. I tried my best to make this as accurate and realistic as possible, but if you find something offensive/inaccurate about this, please let me know and I will take it down immediately.

Word Count:1284

You really liked this whole work-from-home situation that the world was in currently. It meant you didn’t have to worry about hiding your tics around your co-workers unless you were on a video conference, which was still considerably less face-to-face interaction than regular work.

It also meant you got to spend a lot more time with your boyfriend, Colson. You had been together for almost 10 months, and you had just moved in with him a few weeks ago. Even though you both did work during the day, it was much easier to see him than previously.

That being said, you tended to be less anxious now that you were home, and you hadn’t had a bad tic day in a while. They didn’t go away, of course, but they were more manageable.

Today, however, just didn’t seem to be your day. You had woken up to an empty bed, which always upset you, because Colson wanted an early start in the studio, even though it was in his own house. Then, you had gotten a call from your supervisor who needed some of your reports four days earlier than expected. You obviously didn’t have them all ready and would have to delay any other work you had planned today to finish those up. And now it was 6 pm and Colson hadn’t left his studio all day.

Needless to say, you were stressed as hell. You could tell because you could feel your simple tics occurring more frequently than often. Every so often your shoulder would jerk upwards or your eyes would roll while you were doing work. You were used to them by now, so you could ignore them for the most part, but it was still annoying. On top of that, you still had at least 5 more hours of work to do in order to get the reports in by 8 am tomorrow.

Another 45 minutes passed before Colson emerged from his studio, finding his way to your makeshift office. “Hey baby.” He said softly, watching you work.

You looked away from your screen, smiling at him. “Hi Cols.” Your shoulder jerked up towards your head again, causing his lips to turn into a frown. He knew about your Tourette’s, which meant he knew you’d been having more good days than bad recently.

He walked over to the back of your chair, hesitantly placing his hands on your shoulders. You relaxed into his touch as he started massaging gently. Your shoulders would occasionally buck up into his hands, or your eyes would roll. “Maybe you should take a little break, love. You seem anxious.” He whispered near your ear, trying to calm you down.

Your eyes rolled again and you spoke, “I have to get these finished tonight. Grant pushed the deadline up to tomorrow morning.”

Colson sighed, “a couple minutes, darling.” His hands left your shoulders as they started moving more frequently and a bit harsher, not wanting to hurt you or make it worse.

“If I take a break then I won’t want to come back to work and then I won’t get it done.” You whined, your eye rolling getting worse. Suddenly you felt an itch on the roof of your mouth, clicking your tongue to relieve it.

Your boyfriend’s concerned expression grew further, your verbal tics being rare. But he worried that your anxiety would increase if he tried to force you to take a break, so he let you be. “I’ll be in the next room if you need me, okay?”

You nod, focusing back onto your work. Your tongue clicked every so often, making you clench your jaw in frustration. You had learned to accept your tics a while ago, and Colson had been a huge help with that, but sometimes you wished you could control them better.

Another hour went by and you were growing more anxious. This particular report was taking much longer than you had expected, and you began to wonder if you would be able to get them in on time.

As you began to think about how much pressure was placed on you, you could feel a pressure in your chest, a frown falling over your features as you realized what your body was telling you. You tried to control it, but you were so stressed and tired that you just couldn’t. Suddenly your entire body was spazzing out, your chest hitting the desk in front of you, your head throwing itself forward. Luckily, you didn’t hit your head on the desk, but you could feel pain in your chest from the actions.

You tried to continue working, but this complex tic just kept rearing its head. Every time your chest would slam against the side of the wood table you would wince. You tried not to make noises, not wanting to alert Colson, but your head was beginning to spin and the pain in your chest was immense. Eventually, you couldn’t help the small whimper that fell from your lips as the sensation overtook your body once again.

“Babe, you okay?” He called from the other room.

You responded, “Yeah, Cols, I’m-“ You were cut off by your own body again, another small howl of pain coming from you. “I’m good.” You didn’t know when, but tears had started falling from your eyes.

You hated when you got into these “episodes.” You wished for nothing more than to be free of this syndrome.

Your boyfriend ran into the room, pulling you from your thoughts temporarily. “Baby, I’m fine.” You smiled at him before your body jerked again. He ran to your side, pulling your chair away from your desk and kneeling down by you.

His hand placed itself lightly on your knee as he looked up at you. “It’s okay, Y/N. Let’s stand up, okay? Let’s go make dinner or something together.” You nodded as he stood up, taking your hand, and pulling you up with him.

He turned to lead you out the door, but the sensation in your chest spread again and you lurched forward, your head hitting his shoulder blade. “Fuck!” You yelped, holding your head in pain. “I’m sorry, Cols.” You cried, moving backwards. Your breathing got heavy as more anxiety overtook you.

Your boyfriend turned and pulled you into his arms, locking you tightly in his embrace. The physical touch brought your heartrate down a little bit, as did his soft words. “It’s all good baby, everything’s good.” He brought one hand up to your hair, holding your head to his chest as your tears flowed. “You’re gonna be just fine. I’m right here.”

You jerked into his body a few times. His strong embrace fought against your tics, making them more manageable. You stood there for a few minutes while your breathing slowed.

“You can talk to Grant tomorrow about moving the deadline back to where it was, or I will if you want. You’re taking a break for the rest of the night. We’re gonna go for a walk and then we can watch a movie or something.” He whispered, pulling you away from him but still holding your face in his hands.

You nodded against his grip, your tongue clicking. “Okay.” You whispered. He walked backwards with you still in his arms, making sure you wouldn’t hurt yourself again. He brought you to the front door, slipping your shoes onto your feet before his own.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, sniffling.

“I told you to never apologize for this, babe. It doesn’t bother me or upset me. It’s just part of you, and I love you.” He smiled up at you, leaning up to press a quick kiss to your lips.

[sorryimananti-romantic]

Mist | Choi San | Chapter 6

Pairing: Choi San x OC (Seohyun)

Genre: supernatural (ghost), romance, high school

Trigger Warnings: paranormal, death mentions, violence

Words: 14k

Disclaimer: I do not own anything except my original character and the story. I do not own any gifs or pictures used.

Full story on Wattpad (don’t spoil here if you read there too)

chapter directory

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

Seohyun woke up with a groan, her head feeling heavy. She opened her eyes, blinking as the events of last night came to her. San was no longer here though. She checked her phone, and there was a text from him, saying his parents had called him.

After a shower and a cup of coffee, Seohyun sat in front of the television, thinking what she was gonna do. It was Saturday so they had no school, and she'd caught up on her sleep. She wanted to go out, but it was risky. The ghost- that evil, evil thing could turn up anywhere. Plus, she had no idea where Gayoung and Youngjae were.

Seohyun bit her lip as she thought about solving this problem; there was no way this ghost would come to her senses with mere words. It didn't look like she had faith in god anymore too, so a simple exorcism would be difficult. So what could she do? She had never dealt with such a dangerous one before, someone who was hell-bent on killing her.

And this time, it made sense why the ghost wanted to kill her so badly. All the evil ghosts she'd encounter in her life had never had an actual reason to harm her except being angry at life and whatnot. But this woman; what she had said made sense. And if it was true...

She wished there was another mediator she could consult with. But there was the matter of it being an inherited-once-dead thing. She could consult with the shaman she knew. Maybe he could help her communicate with a wise old ghost who'd actually give her a few tips.

The ghost's words rang in her ears: Don't tell me you didn't know? When a mediator dies, there is a short time period during which there is no other mediator in the world. That's when ghosts can do whatever they want; trespass, interact with humans, and much more. She cursed the previous mediators for not making an account of their knowledge and findings. She made a mental note to write a mediator guideline for the next unlucky person.

Seohyun got up, deciding she'd go to the shaman herself. No point waiting; she wanted to get it over with as soon as possible. The shaman was not too far from where she lived. She would take a taxi, just to be safe.

Seohyun was wondering where those two siblings had disappeared off too. She had allowed them to come and go as they pleased; it was unusual for them to be gone so long. Seohyun reached the place where the shaman lived after 10 minutes, getting off and finding the doors locked.

"Just my great fucking luck," she sighed, going to the market right in front of that place and asking if they knew where the shaman had went. She found out he had moved recently. She mentally cursed herself for not keeping his business card with her; she would have to go home and check if she still had it. She usually made some other use of business cards, such as making airplanes and boats out of them. Her origami was going to be the death of her.

Seohyun was just calling for taxi when she felt her heart sink in, realizing the evil ghost was near. She quickly stepped into property instead of hanging around the street, but nothing appeared. Maybe she was going insane, finally.

After waiting for two solid minutes, she was about to sit in the taxi when she heard a voice say:

"I saw that pretty boy leave your house in the morning."

Chills ran down her spine as she finally met her eyes with the ghost. "And what of it?"

"I found it interesting that he has the sight. I was wondering how that could help me."

"What do you mean?" Seohyun paused- this was not happening.

"He can see me. He thought he saw me in the morning but I hid. So I, with the help of those two kids who were too scared to disobey me, led him somewhere. And if you are a decent human, you'd follow me."

"You're lying."

"Go ahead and check if I am," she countered.

With a wildly beating heart, Seohyun pressed call, once, twice, thrice. He was not picking up. She texted in the group chat if anyone had been in contact with San since today. And everyone replied they hadn't.

Seohyun sighed in defeat as she said, "Lead the way."

The woman howled with laughter, making Seohyun grit her teeth and want to strangle her, but she walked, taking her god knows where. Seohyun tried to ask if she really wanted to kill her, and if so, why wasn't she already doing it. Why wait?

They were out in a clearing, near the expressway where cars and trucks rushed in full speed. What was she gonna do, attempt a ritual? Seohyun didn't understand.

"Just tell me where San is. And don't even think about hurting me. You want me, you have me."

"Oh dear," the woman walked towards her, and Seohyun tried to keep her calm as she grew closer, circling her once before whispering in her ear, "I don't have you. Not yet."

Seohyun winced at her foul breath, the woman raking a nail across her neck, drawing out blood. "I can't give you a mortal wound. I can only hurt you so much. That's why you mediators have it so easy."

Even if Seohyun's neck was on fire from the pain, she felt a spark of hope in her heart. That would mean she could run- she could escape.

"But that doesn't mean I can't do it indirectly," the ghost smiled, baring her brown teeth, and it was the evilness in her eyes that made Seohyun gasp as she realized.

She had been stupid- but she had no guarantee that San was safe. That Gayoung and Youngjae were safe. She couldn't run, not exactly. The woman flicked her hand, and Seohyun winced at the sound of a car crashing. She turned sharply; the car had hit the truck. The car had crashed the other way, but the truck-

It was tumbling and was coming right for her- unnaturally.

Seohyun forgot about everything else and ran, but somehow the woman was able to control the movement of the truck. She jumped in an attempt to dodge, the woman was cornering her. She had no choice but to step on the road, but one of the speeding cars failed to dodge the crashed car and struck it, skidding across the road and hitting Seohyun with a tremendous force that sent her flying before her head hit the traffic barrier and everything went black.

The woman laughed even as she cried out in pain. She had emptied the last of her powers on this crash, and she screamed as she felt herself burn from the inside out. But Seohyun was surely dead- she had to be. If she was dead, this wouldn't happen to her.

The woman screamed one last time before disappearing into thin air- this time for good. But it was no good now. Seohyun lay unconscious on the road, bent in a painful angle as people surrounded her and called an ambulance. A student checked her pulse; it was growing weaker by the second.

Seohyun was rushed to the hospital as soon as the ambulance arrived; her heart flatlined once before she was revived again, having escaped death from a hair's breadth. She was put on hold for her surgery as they called her mother for consent.

Her mother had rushed into the hospital- face streaked with tears. She had only had time to touch her face once before she was taken to the operating room, and she sat on the waiting chair, motionless. Her friend, Aunt Yuri that Seohyun had always liked, had comforted her mother, making her drink water and relax a bit. All they could do was pray.

Seohyun's phone, which was now in Yuri's hand, rang. It was Yunho. Yuri picked the phone, inquiring if he was a friend, and when he assured her that he was indeed a close friend, Yuri revealed the accident to him.

Yunho had almost dropped his phone as he heard, terror washing over him as he realized it must have been the evil ghost's doing. He washed his face, sighing as he tried to control his trembling hands. He was not ready to lose a friend.

Yunho called and told each of their friends individually, keeping San for the last, frowning when he did not pick up. He decided to go to his home and check. Before he reached his home, he found San walking outside the house as if looking for someone.

"San, hey," Yunho rushed to him, "Why weren't you picking the phone?"

"I lost it, but then Gayoung and Youngjae admitted they had hidden my phone. I was just going after them; I don't know why they'd done so. What's wrong?"

Yunho bit his lip as he thought of how to reveal it to him. He told him then; Seohyun had been in an accident, and she was under surgery now. They weren't sure if she was gonna make it.

San put a hand to his head, shaking his head in disbelief. "Was it- is it because of the ghost?"

"Not sure," Yunho said, "But seeing how Gayoung and Youngjae hid your phone, it must be. Seohyun was trying to contact you all day."

"Shit. Shit!" San punched the air in frustration, his lip trembling. How had it come to this?

"Which hospital is she in? I need to go."

So Yunho and San took a taxi to the hospital, and Yunho kept a hand on San's trembling one the whole ride. He seemed intent to keep his calm. When they arrived, they asked the reception for Seohyun and rushed to the floor she was in. They saw two women right outside the operating room, and figured it had to be Seohyun's mother and her friend who'd picked the phone. They sat on a distance, and San put his head in his hands as they waited.

Yuri, who had noticed the two boys, came towards them, asking if one of them was indeed Yunho. "We're praying for the best, but the doctors say it's risky. You both should head home, this surgery might take a while."

"It's fine," San finally said, "I'll wait."

Yuri raised a brow but then nodded, saying she was going to grab some coffee for Seohyun's mother and she'd grab some for them too. After drinking and some comforting from both sides, having found Seohyun's mother fallen asleep, the boys decided to get some air.

They walked in the hospital garden which was pretty big, lit by several lamps, and some of the patients could be seen sitting or walking. San's eyes were on the ground; he was afraid if he looked up he'd cry.

Yunho patted San's back and he put his face in his hands, sighing. He'd never imagine this. And the way Seohyun had been last night, so scared, he should have known. The things she said, he should have believed it wasn't just her being paranoid.

Hongjoong and Seonghwa came along with Yeosang; the rest lived too far away and couldn't join at this hour. Yeosang looked visibly pale and he kept rubbing his hands as if he felt cold. Upon asking, Yunho told them she was still in surgery, and yes, her mom was here with a friend too.

They sat in the garden. Seonghwa had bought some sandwiches from home; he knew some of them wouldn't have had dinner yet.

"You should eat, San," he said, "We don't know how long the surgery is gonna be. It's no good if you're on an empty stomach." He handed him a sandwich and San halfheartedly nibbled on it. The rest of them were pretty much silent too, at loss for words. They found comfort in just being together.

After finishing, they decided to go up and check the situation and maybe go back home to sleep. San dusted his clothes as he walked, and stopped dead in his tracks as he heard a familiar voice call his name.

"San."

The rest of them paused, looking back at San, whose eyes were wide with terror. "What's wrong?" Hongjoong asked.

San dreadfully turned back as if not quite believing, and the water bottle he'd been holding slipped out of his hand.

It couldn't be.

In front of him was Seohyun, unscratched, smiling sadly.

She was a ghost.

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

"Seohyun?"

San couldn't believe his eyes. Seohyun stood unscratched in front of him, but it was not her. It couldn't be. She was in an accident, how could she be in front of him like this?

A cry of pain escaped from Yeosang as he realized, covering his ears as if that could mean he was wrong. Hongjoong and Seonghwa looked at each other, and Yunho stepped towards San, stopping when he found him staring in the distance.

"How are you... here?" San managed to ask, walking towards her, but she took a step back, leaving San's hand dangling in the air. His brows were furrowed in a pained expression.

"I don't know, San," Seohyun said, smiling sadly. San went for her abruptly, and his hand went through her.

"No... This can't be...." San's knees gave out and Yunho rushed to him, massaging his back as tears finally escaped his eyes. He sat down, his face in his hands, now almost touching the ground. Seohyun bent near him as if she could touch him.

"It's my fault," San sniffed. Yunho wiped his eyes, looking back Hongjoong- pale with shock, Seonghwa clinging to him, holding Yeosang's trembling hand.

"It's not your fault. It's that witch's fault. And you have to listen-"

"It's mine," San whispered. Seohyun bit her lip as she began to speak but was cut again as he said, "I'm sorry I didn't pick your phone."

"I know what happened, don't worry-"

"I'm sorry-"

"CHOI SAN LISTEN TO ME FOR A SECOND!" Seohyun shouted and San jerked, forcing his head up to face her. "I don't think I'm dead. Not fully, at least. You have to go and ask the details."

"What do you mean? You're a ghost, doesn't that mean-"

"Maybe not. Please do that."

San nodded, explaining to the others that there was a possibility she was alive, though it did not make sense to him. They started walking to the building, and Seohyun said, "And please wipe your faces. Don't show that you know anything. I don't want my mom to know that I'm a ghost, even if I'm dead."

San winced at that but did so, and they went upstairs in the waiting area, where Seohyun's mother was crying. Yuri was patting her back but looked okay. Upon seeing San and Yunho with other friends, she whispered something to Seohyun's mother, who casted a glance at them and nodded, and Yuri walked to them.

"Seohyun's alive for now. She's in a coma. The surgery was successful but this was unavoidable, so we can expect her to return sometime within 3 months or more, depending on Seohyun now. Can't say anything about that. You guys should go home. They'll let you see her tomorrow."

Seohyun sighed in relief despite herself, and the boys finally managed a smile and asked San if she was here. San nodded, looking at Seohyun. She smiled happily now for San's sake, but he was still gloomy.

"You're gonna smile back or I'm gonna haunt you in your dreams, Choi San."

San let out a short laugh. "I guess you can do that now. Let's go out."

They went to an empty street and San asked Seohyun what had happened. She told him how the woman had used San as a bait for her to call her out. San told her that Gayoung and Youngjae had only taken his phone, assuring her he'd been home all day. Seohyun assured him it was still not his fault, that sooner or later this would've happened.

"So where's the ghost now? If you're still alive, won't it come after you again?" Seonghwa asked.

"I'll have to ask around," Seohyun said. "I can actually teleport now. I'm gonna try and find Gayoung and Youngjae. They must have been pretty scared if they did her bidding."

"Stay safe, Seohyun," San said, and Seohyun brought her hand near his face as if she meant to touch him.

"I will. Don't worry. Go home guys, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah, we'll tell the others too now," Yunho said, "They'll be shocked."

"San, please tell Yeosang to stop trembling. I'm alive!"

San looked at Yeosang. He still seemed pale and his hands wouldn't stop shaking. So he did what Seohyun would have done for him; took his hands in his own, telling him it was alright. Seohyun was alive.

"I just can't believe it," Yeosang said, "For a second- when you said her name- I thought-"

"Yeah, I know, me too," San admitted. "It's alright. She's okay."

They waved her goodbye as they went home, and Seohyun cursed as loudly as she could, now that no one could hear her. Then she decided it was time to teleport to that hill, Gayoung and Youngjae must be given an earful.

She closed her eyes shut and imagined being sucked into space. The familiar tingling sensation ran from the top of her head to the tip of her toes; one moment she was here and the next, cold wind hit her face. She was there.

She peeked into the 'cave', basically a home to the ghost siblings. She found them sitting with their knees close to their chest. It was crazy how much they were like each other.

Seohyun cleared her throat and walked in, and the two of them stumbled back, almost falling.

"Are you alive?

"Are you dead?"

"Neither," Seohyun replied, "I did not know going into a coma would make me a ghost."

"Seohyun, I am so sorry-"

"Don't," Seohyun put a hand in the air, shutting them up. "Just tell me what made you do this."

"She threatened to hurt our parents. She knew where they lived. They're who we're staying here for, if she hurt them... I'm sorry," Gayoung looked down in shame.

"She actually asked us to 'take care' of San. We didn't promise her anything, just that he wouldn't interfere," Youngjae added.

"Well, thank you for that," Seohyun smiled, sitting near them. "It must have been hard for you both."

The two of them looked at each other, on the verge of crying.

"I swear if a tear falls down your faces, I'm personally gonna kick you out of this ghost realm."

Gayoung laughed a little, quickly wiping her eyes, and Youngjae did the same. They were just kids, Seohyun thought. They shouldn't have had to think it was their fault or anything.

"But what happened with the witch?" Seohyun asked.

"After she thought she killed you, we saw her screaming. We had just teleported to you when we sensed you were in danger. She just... vanished. And this time I mean like dissipated in the air like ashes. I guess she died again..." Youngjae said.

"Wow. Serves her right!" Seohyun sighed in relief.

"Did you meet San?" Gayoung asked and Seohyun nodded, looking grim.

"I don't think you should leave him alone tonight. He's gonna take this badly."

Seohyun's heart sank. She was right. Seohyun expected San to be alright, but that was just her own expectation. She wasn't actually so sure he would be.

"I don't know where he lives," Seohyun said.

"We'll take you to her," Gayoung said, holding out her hand to her and squeezing it, muttering an earnest thank you. Seohyun nodded, and they teleported once again.

It was an average looking house, much like the ones along the whole street. But somehow it felt more like a home than Seohyun's plain house looked.

"Do you think I can enter?" She wondered out loud, and Gayoung grinned.

"You should try. You should be able to since you're a mediator anyway."

Seohyun shrugged, taking a careful step forward. Indeed, she was able to enter. It seemed like she did have special benefits being a ghost. "I feel like I'm intruding."

"Oh he's your boyfriend, just go," Gayoung waved her hand at her, dismissing her as Youngjae grinned, wriggling hi brows at her. The two snickered, waving bye and teleporting back.

Seohyun stood awkwardly at the front door, afraid she'd be intruding their privacy. She paced back and forth, wondering if she should call San, or just go up and give him a little scare in the process. He probably wasn't in the mood for fun and jokes. She'd seen his face when he'd thought she'd die, and it was something she wished she could erase from her memory.

While she was biting her nails in confusion, she heard the front door open, and for a second, she panicked. But it was only San.

"I saw you from my window," he said, holding the door open, "Come in."

Seohyun bit her lip and nodded, entering. San closed the door behind him and led her upstairs. They went past his sister's room before entering his. Seohyun looked around, his love for plushies obvious by his large collection.

"Which one is Shiber?" Seohyun asked.

"That one," San pointed at the bed. It was a shiba plushie. San slept with it, it seemed.

"Poor thing," Seohyun grinned. San gave her a little smile as he motioned for her to sit. He sat on his bed and Seohyun brought the chair close. "Not how I thought I'd come to your home."

San shook his head, looking down. Seohyun almost leaned forward to touch him until she realized she couldn't. "Are you okay?"

"I'm not, to be honest," San began, meeting eyes with her, "I really thought you... were dead. When you appeared like that. I'm still not over that feeling."

Seohyun felt guilty. She'd found herself a ghost at the site of the accident, right when they were taking her to the hospital. She'd made it there, but she couldn't bring herself to step inside the hospital. She'd spotted San and Yunho from there. "I'm sorry."

"Oh no, you don't have to be," San shook his head, "Not your fault. I just wish I could... touch you right now. Hold you so I'd know you're real and it's not me going crazy."

"I know San," Seohyun almost whispered, "Me too."

They looked at each other sadly, and Seohyun put her hand in front of him, and for a moment San thought she was gonna ask for a high-five. "Put your hand here," she said.

San put his hand forward, and before he could touch, Seohyun pulled hers a little back. "No touching. Just... close. Like this," she put their hands close until there was only a hair's breadth of distance between them. San could have swore he could feel her warmth.

She smiled at him and drew her hand back. "The sibling duo was threatened by that bitch too. I feel sorry for them."

"That explains," San thought, "they didn't seem the type to just turn away like this."

"They apologized thoroughly. But it's okay now. It's only a matter of waking up from that coma... If I can make it."

"Keep your hopes up," San scolded and she smiled sheepishly. "How do you feel though? I mean, now that you're... a ghost. Does it feel any different that being a human?"

"I don't exactly feel weird inside," Seohyun realized, "But there does seem to be something different about this world now. It's like there's a veil over my eyes. Everything is a little cloudy now. Like I have bad eyesight."

"Does that mean you can't see me clearly?" San wondered.

"No, it's like there's a filter now. You know like the ones in the camera where you can decrease the clarity? That's how it feels. Weird."

San nodded. "Will you sleep?"

"I honestly don't know," Seohyun admitted. "I'll watch you sleep though. Maybe that might put me to sleep."

"I don't think I can sleep with you watching me," San huffed. Seohyun let out a short laugh and asked, "Do you want me to go?"

"No- stay. Please," he said, getting up to turn off the lights so there was only light from the little lamp on his desk. He lied down on his bed, facing her, watching her as she stood by the window, peeking out.

She was a ghost, San thought. He wanted her to wake up as soon as possible. He wasn't sure if he could live if Seohyun, god forbid, died and remained a ghost. He couldn't even imagine it.

As if sensing his thoughts, Seohyun turned, staring at him for a moment, those cheekbones pronounced in the shadows. She walked towards him slowly as he watched, and dropped to her knees in front of him, resting her head on the little space on the bed near San, and he crouched too, until they faced each other. She tested once, let her hand hover over his, putting it on top of him- but it passed through, making San shiver a little. So she drew her hand a bit back, until it almost touched at the fingertips.

They stared at each other, and San's eyelid drooped, shutting as he fell asleep. Seohyun closed her eyes too.

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

Seohyun must have actually fell asleep because when she awoke, when she opened her eyes, she was not in San's room but in front of her body, lying still with tubes coming out of everywhere. Her mother was sleeping rather uncomfortably on the sofa.

Her mother. She looked disheveled, and it made Seohyun gasp a little with surprise. She had always seen her so composed, so calm and full of control. She couldn't bring herself to go to her mother when she'd seen her crying of relief, back when they'd heard that her surgery had been successful.

She was glad that her Aunt Yuri had kept her company. She would have to thank her when she woke up. If she ever did. Seohyun shook her head, ridding herself of such thoughts.

Seohyun figured this was where she was gonna wake up every time she slept. She peeked out of the window to see that it was already morning. She felt like she hadn't slept at all, which was weird.

Her mother groaned, rubbing her eyes as she woke up. She looked like she had forgotten for a moment where she was, and as she took in her surroundings, Seohyun saw realization hit her as she jerked violently.

Her mother stared at her for a long while, before sighing and throwing her head in her hands. She thought her state must have been a nuisance for her ever-busy mother, but then she saw the tears fall down her mother's eyes as she hastily wiped at them.

She fell back on her seat, laughing, probably at the situation. And then she spoke:

"When your dad left me, I thought nothing could break me anymore."

Seohyun's eyes went a little wide at the sudden mention of her dad, who had passed away due to his heart problem a little after Seohyun's birth. Her mother had told her fragments of her life with him; they had met at work and fallen in love, spending a few years together before marrying and having a daughter.

"Your dad... he had my whole heart. So you can't blame me for my lack of love because it went with him to the grave. I tried loving you, and I thought it would be very hard. But somehow... I didn't even realize that I already loved you, way before you were born. I loved the thought of you."

Seohyun's heart sank. She thought she was invading her privacy by hearing all this... But technically, her mother was talking to her, wasn't she?

"I realize now. Now that you're looking like your dad in his last moments, I realize how afraid I am to lose you. If you followed him, I'd just be an empty shell."

Seohyun wanted to hug her mom and tell her it was alright. She wanted to give her a sign that she was here... but she figured it would do more harm than good.

"I hope you come back, Seohyun. My little girl. I promise to be a better mother, just- come back."

Seohyun's eyes shone with silver as she smiled at her mother's word. So her mother really did love her. She watched as she got up, straightening her clothes. "I'm going to distract myself until you're back. And then I will give you all the time in this world. Take you where you want to. Act like a proper mother that I should have done years ago. I'm- I'm sorry for not doing that earlier."

She walked to Seohyun's body, planting a kiss on her forehead and Seohyun could have sworn she felt a tingle of it too.

Her mother left after smiling at her, and Seohyun inhaled. She needed to distract herself too.

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

"I'm making a video of this, and no one is gonna stop me."

"What if someone sees it, Yeosang?" Hongjoong asked, shaking his head.

"I don't care," he replied as he did exactly as he had said. Make a video of Seohyun drumming furiously.

Except you could not see Seohyun and it looked like the drums were playing itself.

"I could start a YouTube channel and earn money from videos like these," he smirked.

"If you start earning money because I'm on the borderline of death," Seohyun had stopped drumming now, "I'll actually haunt you for the rest of my life."

San, who was watching the whole thing while sulking on the sofa, told Yeosang exactly what she had said.

"Good. At least I'll have company for the rest of my life."

Seohyun threw the drumstick, aiming for his head, and it hit home as he yelled in pain, a few colourful words escaping his mouth.

"You deserved it," Hongjoong laughed. Yeosang threw the drumstick back and Seohyun caught it, putting it down. She was done playing. She took the notebook they'd given her for communication and wrote: If I do end up dying, I'll help you all make money. At least I'll still be useful after death, you morons.

She held the notebook for them to read, trying to hide the view from San, but he ended up peeking too, and shook his head again, sulking even more.

"Back with her death jokes," Hongjoong looked at the book with disapproval.

Seohyun threw the book back at the table and came to sit with San, mirroring his sulking position. "It's so boring to have only you to actually talk to, no offence."

"Some taken," San said, "Be grateful I can see you. Imagine if I hadn't followed you that day."

"Actually grateful for that," Seohyun grinned. A ghost of smile crept on his face.

She heard the door of the warehouse open as the rest of them arrived. "Is Seohyun here?" Wooyoung asked, looking worried.

Hongjoong said yes, and he looked around saying, "Wherever you are, I'm so sorry about the accident, Seohyun. I don't want you to die, please come back! I can't lose you!"

Seohyun picked the pillow and threw it with considerable force at Wooyoung, who screamed and Mingi laughed. "Glad to see you're in good spirits."

"Are you okay though?" Jongho asked, having realized she must be sitting with San, "Does it... hurt or anything?"

San told them she said it was fine, it was just like being alive except no one can see her anymore which is making her sad and bored. He skipped the part where she had said that San was kinda boring these days too.

"Glad to hear," Wooyoung put the bag of snacks on the table. "I bought snacks, but... can you eat?"

Seohyun decided it was time to test that theory. She hadn't felt the need to eat, but she supposed theoretically she should be able to eat. She picked a packet of chips and opened it, the rest of them watching her curiously. She picked one in her hand, and then slowly put it in her mouth.

She could eat.

She danced in victory, making the rest of them laugh as Yunho hooted, "Time to loot the stores!"

"Nice idea!" She yelled back, coming back to sit with San, offering him some. He refused first but she made him open his mouth and put one in it. "This feels good. It's like being able to touch you."

San smiled. He felt that too.

Seohyun got up, going to Seonghwa and waiting for him to open his mouth. He was confused for a second but then opened, and Seohyun put the chip in his mouth. "This feels weird," he muttered, but smiled.

One by one, Seohyun put chips in their mouths, making them laugh. Yeosang filmed the whole thing, saying he was gonna make a compilation video once she was back.

San watched her with a curious look in his eyes. She had been acting a bit... different. More cheerful than she should have been. Or maybe he was too gloomy? When Seohyun came back, San folded his arms. "Did something... happen today?"

Seohyun got quiet for a second before she told him about how she had heard her mom talk to her. San wished he could hug her. Even though she sat right next to him, she felt so distant. His heart ached.

"At least now you know for sure that your mother does love you, in her own way."

"I suppose so," Seohyun sighed, folding her arms, watching Mingi and Wooyoung have a little brawl over who was better at drums, "I haven't ever seen her like that. Makes me want to not... die. Not that it's in my control anymore."

"Don't think like that," San turned towards her, "Your willpower is important."

"Is it?" Seohyun countered, and San narrowed his eyes. "I'll have to test that theory-"

"Do not even THINK of trying something reckless-" His voice was raising.

"I'd like to see you stop me-"

"HEY!" San got up abruptly, and everyone turned to look at him, "Does your life mean nothing to you?"

Seohyun instantly got deja vu. He'd said something like this before too. She stared at him as he groaned and pinched his nose bridge in frustration, pacing back and forth and then stopping again. "I thought your life meant something to you now. You had friends- you had us. We love you and care about you so much. I care about you so much. Your mother does. But all you care about is yourself?"

"San-" Blood rushed to Seohyun's cheeks as she realized, "I didn't mean-"

"You did mean it, Seohyun," San sighed, "I- I thought you finally had something to live for."

"San, I do. Believe me, I do."

San looked at her, shaking his head, and Seohyun felt like she could disappear. "Think about it, Seohyun."

He turned and started to go, and Seohyun grabbed his hand- or tried to- but it passed right through.

"I need some time to clear my head," he muttered as he left.

Everyone watched San leave the warehouse, and their eyes went back to where San had been standing, where Seohyun now stood. She felt disappointed in herself. She slumped down on the sofa, the others realizing she was still here.

"What was that about?" Seonghwa asked out loud. Seohyun just clenched her hair as she groaned loudly, cursing herself, glad nobody could hear her right now.

Hongjoong came and sat near Seohyun, saying, "If you want to talk about it, I'm here."

Seohyun thought it was sweet of him. He'd brought the pen and notebook too, placing it in between them. Seohyun took it, scribbling in it.

I messed up big time

Hongjoong read it, scooting a little closer, the notebook seemingly in her lap. She wrote again:

I'm a disappointment to San.

Hongjoong shook his head, "You're not. Trust me, you're not." He took a deep breath, having figured out what the fight was about. "I know you've had it rough, and you're not used to all these new relations. But whatever happened, you can set it right. San won't stay angry, but he'll be truly disappointed if you don't."

Seohyun thought about, and didn't realize her tears were falling on the notebook. Hongjoong could see it.

"You haven't cried since the accident, right? You're very brave, Seohyun."

Seohyun laughed a bit as she realized, making her cry even harder. She scribbled Thanks in the notebook, putting it aside. She knew what she had to do. Apologize.

She got up, walking towards the piano. Seating herself, she tested the keys, giving everyone a little scare before she started to play.

It was the piece Joon Hyuk had taught her. It was utterly sad but beautiful, and it had took her months to get better at it. As she played, she realized her muscle memory was better now. So she lost herself in the sadness of it, her fingers dancing on the keyboard.

When she was finished, she opened her eyes, breathing. it took her a good minute to come back to reality, and when she did, everyone was staring at her. Or the piano.

"Tell me someone got it on their phone," Yeosang mumbled.

Seohyun threw her head back and laughed out loud as she watched the boys fight over why no one took the liberty of filming this moment.

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

That night, Seohyun was pacing in the park near San's house, wondering how she should make things right. A simple 'sorry' wouldn't suffice. She wished she could touch him, hug him. Maybe that would have put more depth to the apology.

She was out of options. And as she was muttering to herself about how much of a bitch she had been, San came walking in, stopping abruptly when he saw her still pacing and cursing. She hadn't noticed yet. So he shook slightly with laughter as he heard her rather colourful vocabulary.

Seohyun sighed, looking up, and finally saw San, her heart sinking to her feet. "Gosh, you gave me a scare," she put a hand to her heart as she breathed.

"It's not like you can die of a heart attack now," San said.

Seohyun paused, narrowing her eyes at him. "Excuse me?"

San shrugged, but lost his demeanor as he finally laughed. "Oh how the tables have turned!" Seohyun gasped, kicking a pebble at him, glad when it struck his leg and he winced.

She gave him a long look. "Are you okay?"

"I am," San said, motioning to the swings and they took one. As they bobbed lightly, Seohyun finally took a deep breath and said, "I am sorry, San."

"For what?" he asked, looking at her.

"For everything," Seohyun said. "I've been a terrible friend."

"No you're not," he smiled. "I just wish you'd give yourself more credit. You don't have to apologize to me. You should be apologizing to yourself."

"Damn, that's poetic," Seohyun said and she could've sworn she heard San mutter 'insufferable', but he still laughed. "Alright. I'll give myself more credit. I won't make death jokes again too."

"Now what would Seohyun be without her death jokes?"

"That is a very valid point," Seohyun smiled. "Alright, I'll just... be a better person. You know."

It seemed like San was enjoying her struggle to find words. "I know what?"

Seohyun's jaw tensed. "Be glad I can't hit you, San."

San smirked.

That cocky little-

Seohyun got up, searching for something to throw at San, who just laughed loudly as he ran away from her.

---------

Days passed. Weeks passed.

A month passed- yet Seohyun was not awake.

Every morning, Seohyun awoke at the hospital, no matter where she slept. She had made the warehouse her home now, since going back to her house was just a reminder that she was not alive, but not dead either.

She wasn't sure how she felt about this situation. The first few days, everyone had been super sensitive about what they said in front of her. But now, everyone was busy with school too. So Seonghwa advised her to attend school too, to not get behind her studies. But Seohyun said that technically, she was still in hospital which meant she could skip school now.

It took her one day without them, bored out of her mind, and she decided that yes, she would go to school too.

So everyday, she sat in her seat, not really paying attention to the lectures but still feeling like she was a part of this world. A part of the living.

And she'd help a lot of ghosts too. Ghosts didn't find her like they did when she was alive, but occasionally she'd stumble upon a lost ghost and help them out, saying she was 'experienced' in helping the fellow-dead.

She was out helping a ghost, a little girl barely 7 years old. She missed her mom and was still hanging on because she had to give her mom a gift, she had promised to. Seohyun's heart went out for the little girl, and she decided to help her.

Seohyun took the girl to her own house, and the little girl went 'wow' when she realized she could touch things now. So Seohyun gave her a nice page and colour pencils while the girl made a drawing. The gift to her mom.

Seohyun hadn't been home in quite a while now. She walked around her room, memories of San and Jiwoo coming to her mind. She smiled as she took the painting of Jiwoo in her hands.

"I'm done!" The girl said, and Seohyun placed the painting back, going to the desk.

"So your name is Yerim?" She asked and Yerim nodded. She had made a cartoon of herself and her mom, labelling it.

"That is a beautiful drawing, Yerim. I'm sure your mom would love it."

Yerim smiled and Seohyun pinched her cheeks. "Now let's give that to your mom."

Yerim guided her to her home, and they went inside, deciding to hide the painting in Yerim's room so when her mom would come, she'd find it, and think she had already made it before she died.

"Thank you, unnie!" Yerim hugged Seohyun and she marvelled at the feeling. She hadn't touched anyone since she'd been a ghost.

Seohyun picked the girl in her arms. "You're so light!" Yerim laughed and hugged her again. They got out of the house, walking randomly, Yerim still in her arms. The black cat started following them too.

"The cat can see you?" Yerim asked.

"Oh yes. When I was... alive, it was my friend. It's still my friend when I'm ghost."

"That's cool," Yerim said as she waved at the cat.

Seohyun asked, "Now that you have done what you stayed here for, you should go now. There's a better world, where you'll wait for your mom. She'll be there soon."

"Will she?" She asked and Seohyun nodded.

"Can we go to the park over there? I used to come there to play with my mom. It has so many flowers too."

"Of course," Seohyun looked at where she had pointed. The park was full of kids and their parents, playing around. "That's a nice place."

Seohyun dropped Yerim and she asked if she would be able to touch the cat. She squealed in surprise when she could.

"What's the name of this cat?"

"Ah. I haven't named it yet..." Was it Shiber or Byeol?

"You can call it Yerim!"

Seohyun paused. She got the strange urge to stretch her cheek.

"You're very cute, Yerim. I'll call her that," Seohyun smiled.

Yerim nodded, looking at the kids, and Seohyun watched her fade away. Feeling the sudden urge to cry, she shook her head and motioned for the cat to follow her.

After roaming around aimlessly, Seohyun reached the warehouse, finding it utterly dark. Not even the usual light was on.

"Where did everyone go?" She muttered, turning to go out, almost jumping out of her skin when she heard what sounded like a blast.

It was a party popper.

"Happy birthday!"

Seohyun turned to find everyone clapping and holding a cake, the only light in the room from the candles. San was laughing at Seohyun's horrified expressions. She truly had forgotten that it was her birthday. She shook her head, laughing.

"You guys, you're- how did you plan this?"

"It took us days to plan," San admitted, and Wooyoung said, "We had to think of a way you'd be busy today."

"But I was busy today because- no way. No way!" Seohyun looked at San in disbelief and he nodded. "I found her before you did and asked her to keep you busy. She was more than happy to."

"Wow," Seohyun shook her head, pinching her nose bridge but smiling at the effort.

"Blow the candles," Seonghwa said, and Yeosang took to his filming.

Seohyun felt strangely happy as she blew her candles, not bothering to make a wish. Hongjoong turned on the lights and she looked around, noticing the various gifts lying in the corner, and her favourite dishes on the table.

San led them to the table, where she cut the cake and made everyone take a bite from her hands. She couldn't thank them enough; this was the first time she had a surprise- or even a celebration.

"I wish the circumstances were different," Seohyun sighed.

San told them what she said and Yunho answered, "It doesn't feel any different. Only we can't see or hear you, so we have to visualize. Oh, and we get more jump-scares now."

Seohyun laughed, and they dug into the food.

After they all were done, they asked her to unwrap her gifts. So Seohyun grabbed the largest one first, which was from Yunho. It was a school bag, with space for laptop too.

"I noticed yours was kind of worn out," Yunho grinned. Seohyun scribbled on the notebook, saying 'Thank you for noticing! :)'. The others applauded him for the approval.

The next one was from Mingi. It was a beautiful leather band watch, which she loved, saying she wished she could put it on right now, and wondering for a moment that if she did, where would it go when she was back?

Yeosang had gifted her some chocolates from abroad, conveniently his father had been out of country. And since he knew her love for chocolate was one to be appreciated, he decided on it. Seohyun almost cried when she spotted her favourite ones.

"I do have another gift, but you'll have to wait for it," he admitted. Seohyun narrowed her eyes, scribbling 'It better be worth it' and moving on to the next.

Jongho had given her a scented set; shampoo, lotion and candle. Hongjoong got her a cap and sunglasses, rather stylish, and Seohyun had to admit she was impressed by his choice. Seonghwa had gifted her a black cat plushie- very, very similar to Yerim the cat. Seohyun admitted it might be her favourite gift. Wooyoung had gifted her a set of earrings, and she appreciated that it was just her taste. And San got her a couple ring, making everyone including herself gasp when they saw it.

"I didn't know what to get..." San scratched the back of his neck.

"No, I love it. It's so pretty!" It was just her style; a silver band with a tiny diamond in the center. Seohyun tried it on, showing it to San excitedly who laughed, approving. He wore his own too.

"Aw, this is so sweet. Except it looks like San proposed to himself," Wooyoung said, earning a smack from Seonghwa.

Seohyun took it off, handing it to San. "I'll wear it when I'm back."

"You wanna go for a walk?" San asked, and she nodded, getting up and asking him to convey her thanks to everyone, that they should keep this stuff here and she'll properly receive them and thank them when she was back.

After everyone said goodbye, San and Seohyun started walking aimlessly around, San telling her how it had taken them a whole week to plan, which included panicking over gifts too. Since it was their first time with Seohyun, it was more difficult to decide on what she'd like.

"I would have loved anything you gave me, even if it was stupid. I appreciate the gesture more."

"I know," San smiled at her. Seohyun was looking at him with a smile on her face, taking in the details on his pretty face, that she didn't notice a bike rushing and on its way to hit her.

Of course she wouldn't get hit, but out of impulse, San grabbed her by the arm and dragged her to the side, "Even if you're a ghost, you should be careful-"

"How- how did you did you just touch me?"

San looked at her, then looked down at his hands, then looked at her again. "Did I?"

Seohyun frowned. Slowly, taking a step towards him, she touched his face, and they sucked in their breath.

She could touch him.

Seohyun laughed in disbelief, touching his face, feeling every angle and curve of it, and San's hands went to grab her hands, marvelling at the touch. He hugged her, not quite believing it until he could feel her arms around her.

Seohyun broke the hug, joining their foreheads, for a moment forgetting everything else as she kissed him. God, it had been too long. They kissed each other in a frenzy, until San felt like someone dumped water on him and he broke apart.

"How did this happen?"

"I don't know," Seohyun breathed, "I don't know, I-"

Seohyun fell to the ground, clenching her head in her hands as she cried out in pain.

"What's happening?" San asked, panic lacing his voice, and Seohyun muttered that she did not know.

"I think I'm dying," Seohyun said, wincing because of the sharp pain, "Or something's happening. I'm being pulled back. San- I'm scared."

San was sitting down with her now, holding her in her arms, caressing her head, "It's gonna be alright," he said, pressing a kiss to her head, "It's gonna be alright."

He didn't know how long he stayed there comforting her as she breathed and faded. And he did not know how long he stared at the empty space in front of him, where Seohyun had just been.

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

It was utter chaos at the hospital- the doctors and the nurses were rushing around, everyone was borderline panicking. Seohyun was going into shock- her mother was crying hysterically as she watched the doctors go around her in a frenzy. A nurse told her to pray- she would either make it or pass away.

Her mother watched her heart beat flatline and the doctors resuscitate her. Her mother almost fainted as she watched the monitors- she was having flashbacks from the time her husband had passed away. Her friend Yuri came rushing in, leading her outside, rubbing her back and telling her it was better to wait and pray instead of watch what was going on.

Meanwhile, San, who had been staring at the empty space in front of him, where Seohyun had just been, slapped himself to reality and called Hongjoong, quickly telling him what had happened as he rushed through the streets, trying to find a taxi. The boys joined him, their faces pale, and they ran to the main street until they found taxis and drove to the hospital, not being able to calm their loudly thumping hearts.

As soon as they reached the hospital, they looked at each other once, nodding, scared for what they would get to hear. Most of them were trembling now- but they followed each other to the ICU, where they spotted the doctors coming out of the room.

Yunho spotted Yuri and ran to her, "How's Seohyun? What happened to her?"

Yuri narrowed her eyes at Yunho, "How did you know...?"

Yunho internally cursed himself before making up an excuse, "I was passing by here when I heard the doctors call the others to Seohyun's room- I called the rest. It wasn't looking good."

Yuri nodded, "She's okay now. She's awake, in fact. Look," Yuri pointed at the door that was slightly open, and Yunho saw her mother smiling through tears, holding Seohyun's hand, who was smiling too.

Yunho sighed in relief, almost falling on his knees. He thanked Yuri and motioned the rest to join him, and the rest knew it was good news with the smile on Yunho's face. They watched the mother and daughter smile and talk to each other, and they hugged each other in relief, their eyes wet.

Seohyun spotted the group of boys outside, waving at them. The boys waved back and they watched her say something to her mother, who nodded, getting up after kissing her forehead and coming out.

"I never thought Seohyun could have so many friends one day," Her mother smiled at them.

"It's good to meet you," Jongho said, and they bowed in greeting.

"You can meet her now- try not to be too loud," she laughed, waving at them.

The boys walked slowly to her room, taking in Seohyun's appearance- there were shadows under her eyes, a few scars on her face and hands, but her smile was the only thing they could see.

"Come here. I missed you all so much!"

Jongho went first, shaking hands with her, the rest coming one by one, holding back from hugging her or ruffling her hair because of the bandages on her head and everywhere else. They were all a little speechless, having seen Seohyun after so long now.

Even San was speechless- he had seen Seohyun everyday, but not like this.

"I thought you'd be happier to see me," Seohyun looked at San.

"I... I am, I just-" San shook his head, looking down as he trembled from trying to hold back his tears, "I really thought... that you were gone."

Seohyun sighed, pursing her lips. "I have given you all a hard time, haven't I?"

They all shook their heads, Mingi and Wooyoung rubbing San's back who was trying his hardest not to cry but ultimately failed. Hongjoong said they'd give them a moment and they left the room.

"San. Come on, look at me. San!"

San sniffed, wiping his eyes before looking at her. Tears formed in her own eyes and she wiped them.

"I'm so sorry, San. I'm so sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry for anything," San leaned forward, taking her hand in his- it had been too long. "Nothing to be sorry about, except scaring the shit out of me."

Seohyun laughed, "I scared the shit out of myself too, not gonna lie."

"I can't believe you're real," San admitted, bringing her hand to his face, reveling the feeling of her touch, "I am awake, am I not?"

Seohyun slapped his face lightly with her other hand. "Very much awake."

San took his sweet time not saying anything, just looking at her face, his lips on her hand.

"Say something, San. You're being weird."

San shook his head, kissing her hand. "I am never leaving you, ever. Get that in your head. No amount of death jokes are going to scare me away. You're stuck with me now until I die."

Seohyun flushed at the sudden confession. "Are you sure? I can make horrible jokes."

"As sure as I will ever be."

Seohyun smiled until she was laughing, tears running down her face. "God, I love you, San. I'm not leaving you too. Even if you're angry with me, disappointed in me, or whatever, I'll keep bugging you."

"Good to hear," San grinned.

"Come here," Seohyun motioned, and San asked her if it was okay. Seohyun just grabbed his collar and gave him a light peck on his lips.

"I can't hug you right now, but I can do this."

San smiled, returning the favour. They both stared at each other, smiling.

"Now that is a creepy sight I wish I will never see again. Tell me you got that on camera, Wooyoung."

"Right on," Wooyoung replied to Hongjoong, and Seohyun tried throwing her pillow at them, groaning in pain when she turned too harshly. San told her to calm down, throwing the pillow himself.

"It's our turn now, you've been seeing her for months now!" Yeosang shouted, and Seohyun laughed as she watched them push San out of the way, making him sit in the corner and pout while they sat in front of her, taking turns to talk to her.

"How did it feel while you were a ghost?" Wooyoung asked.

"Like I was alive, but not real?"

"Did it hurt when you became a ghost, or when you went back?" Seonghwa asked.

"When I went back, yes, I felt like my head was about to burst-"

"Can you still see ghosts now?" Mingi asked.

"I don't know yet-"

"Let her rest!" Hongjoong clapped once, "We'll have plenty of time to catch up when she comes home."

Seohyun pouted and Hongjoong patted her shoulder, "Glad you're back, Seohyun."

Seohyun smiled, wriggling her brows at him and they all waved at her before leaving, San coming to kiss her hand once before leaving. Seohyun sighed- he was being so soft.

Her mother came in, trying to stifle her smile but failing. "You have many friends now, it seems."

"I do," Seohyun nodded, smiling back, "I have a boyfriend too."

Her mother raised one eyebrow, putting her hands on her hips. "Lee Seohyun! Why didn't you tell me earlier? Which one was he?"

"The one who left last, San."

"Oh," her mother gave her a thumbs up, "How did it happen?"

Seohyun told her to sit because it was a long story, and then told her all about how she had met San, how he was able to see ghosts now too, because of her, and how they, at one point, started liking each other.

"Were you a ghost when you were in a coma?"

Seohyun bit her lip, nodding.

"And these friends knew?"

"They did. San could see me, but he couldn't touch me. At least not until tonight, just before it happened."

Her mother sighed, leaning back. "Is there a reason none of them, and not even you, bothered to tell me that you were a ghost?"

"I wanted to- I slept every night and woke up here, with you. I heard you talk to me. I couldn't break your heart, mom. Not when I wasn't sure if I was going to make it."

"I understand," She nodded, earnest, "How did this even happen?"

"It was an old ghost- a vengeful one. Apparently when you kill a 'mediator'- that's what they call me, there are a few moments before the mediator thing passes to another person. During those moments, ghosts can trespass and interact with humans and whatnot. At least that's what that bitch told me-"

"Language-"

"I'm talking about the ghost who tried to kill me."

"Oh, that bitch, go on."

"So apparently ghosts can't kill the mediators. So she tried doing it to me indirectly, which ended up killing her."

"Good riddance! But I hope you will have stopped seeing ghosts now. I don't want you to get in more trouble," her mother's eyes were full of worry.

"I don't think that happened, but at least nobody will try to kill me now."

The mother and daughter sat thinking for a few moments. Finally, her mother spoke, "You're getting discharged in three days. If you want to take a break from school, if you want to go on a trip, I can do that-"

"Thank you, mom," Seohyun smiled, "I just want to live like I had been living. Normally. We can go somewhere during the New Year holidays if you're free- otherwise, I just want to go to school, spend time with the boys, do normal stuff."

"I took extra days off," her mother nodded, "We can go visit your grandparents in the countryside."

"Sure! I haven't seen them in forever."

"You can go with the boys somewhere if you want to before New Year. I won't be home for Christmas- I have business in Japan. But if you want me home for Christmas-"

"Please, it's really okay, mom," Seohyun nodded furiously, "I won't be alone this time. Just promise you'll be home for New Year."

"I promise," she smiled.

"Done. I'll plan something with the boys."

Three days later, Seohyun was finally discharged, the bandages off her and she felt light. Seohyun took a look in the mirror when she got home- the wounds on her face would fade with time. She was alive, and that was all that mattered.

The boys had paid a visit every night, and it was time for her to return the favour. Seohyun decided she would buy something for them each- a Christmas gift, a gift because she woke up. She told them all to be there at night while she went shopping.

Two hours later, several shopping bags in her hands, she stood outside the warehouse. The air felt incredibly different now that she was alive.

Seohyun closed her eyes, relishing the feel of the wind on her skin, blowing the hair away from her face.

"Home."

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

"Hi guys!" Seohyun stood awkwardly, waving the bags in her hands. The boys all turned, hooting as they rushed towards her, and for a moment, Seohyun almost had a heart attack.

"STOP!" She shouted, and they stopped in their tracks, realizing their mistake. "One at a time, okay? Go back and sit."

They obeyed, muttering things under their breath and San approached her, taking some of the bags away from her.

"Can I hug you first?"

"Not fair!" Wooyoung shouted.

Seohyun laughed while San glared at Wooyoung, "We'll have plenty of time later, but here," She gave him a brief hug, sighing into it. It was the first time she was going to hug everyone after the accident.

She had been discharged from the hospital the next night, after the doctors made sure everything was okay. The bandages were off now, mostly. Some scars remained- one running down her temple as well. She had been home the past days, not being able to meet anyone, taking her time to get her energy back, only going out shopping with her mom.

"Alright," Seohyun placed the bags in front of the table where everyone sat, "This is going to be a random pick. I got you all gifts for Christmas, so I'm going to pick a bag. Here-" Seohyun picked one, "Yeosang!"

Yeosang got up haughtily, flipping his hair, motioning at them to applaud and they did, faces grumpy as he approached Seohyun and hugged her, almost picking her up in the air.

"Don't crush me!" Seohyun laughed, and Yeosang finally broke the hug, patting her head.

"We didn't get you anything for Christmas yet."

"You don't need to, you got me enough for the birthday-"

"We'll just give you food then," Jongho suggested.

"Deal," Seohyun winked at him, handing Yeosang the bag. "Open it."

Yeosang looked at her pointedly, opening the box to reveal a small flying drone. Yeosang gasped in surprise and Seohyun looked proud.

"I may have noticed you doodling drones in your notebook."

Yeosang laughed and thanked her, saying she knew him well. Seohyun picked the next bag.

"Seonghwa!"

Seonghwa pumped a fist in the air as he ran to Seohyun, hugging her.

"You hug like my mom does," Seohyun muttered.

"Glad you're back," he said, kissing her temple before he broke the hug. He opened the gift to reveal a set of-

"Hey, how did you know to get me these!" Seonghwa looked at Seohyun in surprise while the others tried to peek at what Seonghwa was holding, who took the boxes out to reveal action figurines. Seohyun smiled as she watched the rest laugh in approval.

"When you guys crashed my first date and took me shopping, I may have noticed you eyeing these in the shop- I don't know what category they are- I just memorized one of the toys of that set and went there and found it, to my relief."

"You're very observant," Seonghwa eyed her and she curtsied, earning another thanks.

"Can I come next?" Jongho said, pointing at the giant bear wrapped messily lying in the corner, "It's a bit too obvious now to pretend I don't see it."

Seohyun bit her lip, trying not to laugh, "Please do."

Jongho smiled, skipping to Seohyun, hugging her such that she was dangling in the air, arms flapping wildly at the side, and then the two skipped to where the bear was- it was about Seohyun's size. Jongho tore the wrappers and laughed-

"You really had to?"

Seohyun smiled at the apple necklace the bear wore- it was a special touch she added to Jongho's gift. "I mean, I could have gifted you a crate of apples-"

Yeosang laughed out loud, causing the others to laugh as well, "The apples wouldn't have lasted a day."

"It's not that bad!" Jongho sulked, dragging the bear to the couch and hugging it, pouting. Seohyun shook her head at him, picking the next bag.

"Yunho!"

Yunho hooted in victory, pausing in front of Seohyun for a second before spreading his arms, and Seohyun gladly hugged him, laughing because she barely reached his shoulders.

"Glad you're back, you dwarf."

"Thanks, you giant puppy," Seohyun shook her head, breaking the hug and handing him the bag. Yunho eyed her before fishing out a long box, unwrapping it.

Seohyun watched as his mouth opened in surprise, and he looked at Seohyun, then back at the boys, then back at her.

"What is it?" Wooyoung asked, "Don't make me get up now-"

"How did you get your hands on this!" Yunho laughed out loud, taking out a wand from the box, "This is Harry's wand, right?"

"Harry's wand!" Mingi wowed, and Hongjoong shook his head, "Isn't this too much! When did you get the time!"

"Actually, this wasn't a Christmas gift," Seohyun admitted, and Yunho looked at her in surprise, "You remember when we talked about Harry Potter all day in school when I was... alive? Before becoming a ghost, I mean-"

"I do," Yunho shook his head, "You're still alive, you know."

Seohyun waved a hand in dismissal, "Anyways, one of mom's friends was in UK, and I had asked her to get me a wand from there, so I asked to bring another."

"I don't know- isn't this too much?" Yunho looked at her hesitantly, and Seohyun rolled her eyes, looking at San who was laughing silently.

"Shut up. Next!" Seohyun announced, ignoring Yunho and picking another bag. "Hongjoong!"

"When is my turn!" Wooyoung wailed loudly, Mingi joining, and Seohyun watched as the two started playing rock papers scissors to bet on who would be next.

"How did you even bring all these here," Hongjoong asked as he hugged her, long and good, "Wasn't it too much trouble?"

"It's okay," Seohyun rubbed his back before they broke apart, and Seohyun handed him the bag. "Here."

Hongjoong looked at her pointedly, "This looks the smallest."

"I can assure you, it was the most expensive-"

"Hey!" Hongjoong laughed, "I'm not opening this."

"Stop being so dramatic, we're waiting!" Wooyoung shouted, Mingi doubling over with laughter.

"I'll do the honours," Seohyun picked the box and tore the wrapper apart. "I had to."

Hongjoong almost dropped the box as he held it- it was headphones- but high quality ones- ones he wish he could have to make him hear the sound betters when he composed in his laptop. "Seohyun-"

"Don't-"

"How can I accept this!"

"You know I could get you better things- my mom's loaded. She was all too glad when I told her that you were the guys I was buying gifts for. Please, Hongjoong, it's not much."

Hongjoong shook his head, "I know it's not much to you, but to us, it is. I'd appreciate it if you don't spend money like that again-"

"Shut up," Seohyun shook her head, "It's my first time getting someone gifts. First time getting someone something meaningful, first time I actually put thought into all of this. First time I was excited. Please," Seohyun wrapped his hands in hers, "Accept it."

"You're gonna make me cry now," Hongjoong laughed, bringing her in for another hug. "Thank you. I won't forget this."

"Thank you for accepting," Seohyun laughed, and Hongjoong went back, flaunting his headphones as he examined them.

"Okay, Mingi, you're next."

Mingi almost fell as he got up in victory, waving his butt at Wooyoung and earning a smack, skipping as he came to Seohyun and hugged her dramatically, picking her and actually making her scream-

"Drop me, you giant!" Seohyun slapped his arms repeatedly, and he finally dropped her, pretending she had hit her too hard. Seohyun slapped his arm again, finally smiling.

Mingi went to where his bag was- finding two boxes- his recent two favourite anime's action figurines.

"You remembered!"

"I also got you the recent volumes!" Seohyun fished out another bag from under the table and Mingi wowed, checking as if he couldn't believe it.

"You have good memory! When did I tell you which volumes I had?"

"Some time in school?" Seohyun smiled, "I didn't know what else to get you- I already gave you the drums, I could have waited till Christmas I guess-"

"Oh come on, they're yours-"

"They're yours now," Seohyun announced, and Yunho started clapping, "I mean, I'm a co-owner. Deal?"

"Deal," Mingi ruffled her hair, thanking her.

"Finally now, it's my time!" Wooyoung came singing, almost running to Seohyun as he crashed into her, spinning her and kissing her forehead, "I cannot tell you how happy I am that you are alive!"

"Even if I was dead," Seohyun began, "I feel like I wouldn't have been able to move on because of you-"

"Hush, now," Wooyoung shook his head, laughing. "Hey, mine is the lightest! Hongjoong!"

Hongjoong was too absorbed in his headphones to respond and San finally got up, telling Wooyoung to hurry up so they could have 'alone time'. Wooyoung unwrapped his gift-

"BTS' ALBUM!"

Seohyun flinched at how loud he was and San came to cover her ears as Wooyoung shouted in surprise and amazement, thanking Seohyun to which she nodded, still flinching as he ran around flaunting the album.

"You brought this upon yourself," San laughed, and Seohyun smiled as Wooyoung crushed her in another hug, thanking her again and again.

"You want me to take it back!"

"NO!"

"THEN SHUT UP!" Seohyun shouted as loudly as Wooyoung who only grinned.

"I knew there was something about you that I just had to make you friend-"

"Anddd that's enough," San slapped the back of Wooyoung's head, "Let's go to dinner after an hour, guys. Meanwhile, I'm stealing her."

With that, San put his arm on Seohyun's back, guiding her out as the boys 'ooh-ed', making her flush. Seohyun couldn't help but smile as San led her out of the warehouse, taking her at the backside where the boys had set up a small place with a tent and couches for when the weather was nice and they wanted to sit out.

"I wish we could go somewhere else, but I don't want to waste this hour," San said, leading her to the couches, pausing to look at her, his hands hesitant as he touched her face, "How have you been?"

"Oh please, it's not like we didn't call at nights the past two days- I'm fine, really."

San touched the scar at her temple, kissing it, making her flush deeper, "I'm glad to hear that."

Seohyun pushed San's chest, "You're being too... mushy."

"Mushy?" San raised an eyebrow, laughing as they sat on the couch, facing each other.

"You're sometimes too romantic for me to handle, you know that?" Seohyun folded her arms.

"I haven't even begun-"

"Exactly what I mean!" Seohyun shook her head, and San laughed, scooting closer.

"Tell me you missed me. Tell me you missed... us."

Seohyun bit her lip, scanning his face- the moonlight making his cheekbones appear sharper, his eyes dark.

"Can't say I didn't," Seohyun sighed, "Let me hug you first."

San brought her closer and she wrapped her arms around him, almost in his lap, her head resting on his chest as she sighed, melting in the embrace. "I definitely missed this. I could sleep right here-"

"Don't you think about sleeping now."

Seohyun smiled, burying her nose in his neck, inhaling the scent of him- it felt like nostalgia, like home. "I never thought I'd appreciate hugs one day- not being in contact for these two months really put me in my place."

San broke the hug, looking at her face, "I could tell. You got Jongho that bear- you know he doesn't really like skin-ship but watch him cling to that bear for the rest of his life. I realized then."

"You're right, I'm surprised you noticed," Seohyun admitted, "He and I are alike in that. I knew he'd love it. Oh, and also, I got you something, but it's not here yet."

"What did you get me?"

"Don't be too surprised when it comes," Seohyun grinned, "I wasn't too sure- yours was the hardest to think of, but it just happened-"

"Please, I'm curious now," San pouted, whining. "I won't be able to stop thinking now that you reminded me-"

Seohyun kissed him to shut him up, breaking apart to look at his reaction- satisfied to see his eyes wide in surprise and then narrow in challenge.

"I guess I could use a distraction. We do have an hour."

Seohyun laughed, kissing him properly this time, taking it slow- it was the first time they were properly kissing since she was back. San held her face delicately, letting her set the pace. Seohyun's hands were more urgent, running through his soft hair, caressing his face, his neck, roaming around his back and chest as they kissed lazily.

"Don't hold me like I'm gonna break, Choi San."

It was all San needed to hear- he kissed her with a force that got her arching back until her back hit the couch itself, and San broke apart to caress her face and draw her hair back.

"I love you, Seohyun. Merry Christmas."

"And I love you, you mountain," Seohyun smiled, "Now kiss me."

The rest of the hour went by as they kissed, murmured sweet nothings as they sat in each other's embrace, or just watched each other, hands caressing hands. The hour went by slow yet it felt like a flash once it was over and they were interrupted with Wooyoung shouting at them to come inside already.

Holding each other's hands, they went inside and sat with the boys to plan where to go for dinner. Yunho looked at the two and burst out laughing, Mingi joining him.

One by one, they all started laughing, leaving San and Seohyun who stared at them. Even Hongjoong and Seonghwa- the serious ones were laughing.

"Did you two only make out during that one hour?" Yeosang shook his head, "Look at how disheveled you both are."

San and Seohyun immediately looked down, but their clothes were straight, and their hair wasn't messed up-

It was only when all of them burst out laughing that the two realized this was a trick- and San covered his face as he laughed while Seohyun gaped at them, getting up in search of something- grabbing a small cushion and running forward to hit them-

"It was Yunho's idea, don't hit me!" Mingi wailed.

"You're still an accomplice," Seohyun laughed as she ran at all of them, hitting them once on their heads to 'get their brains to kick start'. "So what if we only made out? I'll ask you all when you finally have partners, you loners!"

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

It was the first dinner Seohyun had with the boys since coming back to her normal life.

And it was chaotic, to say the least.

People had mistaken them for being a bunch of drunks one too many times, the way they were hollering with laughter and talking about ghosts as loudly as they could. But everything was okay- Seohyun hadn't felt happier in a while.

After a very lavish dinner, they all walked around the town, making fun of each other and playing, and before Seohyun could decide to leave for her home and bid everyone goodnight, Yeosang told her they had one last surprise for her at the warehouse before she went home.

"And why couldn't I get this surprise when we were back at the warehouse just a few hours ago?"

"You'll know why," Jongho teased, "Just come."

Seohyun rolled her eyes, secretly anticipating just what they had in store for her, and followed them to the warehouse.

"We'll be right back- stay here," Wooyoung said, dragging Jongho and Yeosang with him while the rest stood outside, waiting.

"Can I have a hint?" Seohyun folded her arms.

"Uh, nope." Hongjoong was firm.

"Is it something about a musical performance or a dance performance-"

"Can you calm down and wait?" Seonghwa laughed.

"Is this going to be a prank?" Seohyun raised her eyebrow.

"If it was a prank I would have been inside with them," Mingi raised his hand and Seohyun narrowed her eyes at him.

"Me too!" Yunho grinned, and Mingi and Yunho shared a look which set Seohyun pacing due to nervousness.

"Calm down," San laughed, his eyes full of adoration, "You'll love it. It's all I am allowed to say."

Seohyun pouted, eyeing the warehouse, not hearing anything at all. Another minute passed by which Seohyun had scratched near her fingernails out of nervousness when Wooyoung peeked out, giving a thumb up.

"Finally," Seohyun exhaled, and San took her hand in his as they walked inside.

They were greeted by the Siamese cat that Seohyun had gifted San, who finally named her Byeol. Yerim was their stray cat and Byeol was their pet cat, who loved staying inside the warehouse- her home.

Seohyun looked around. Everything was the same, except there was a projector now set up in front of the couches. "Are we watching a movie?"

"A short movie, you could say," Jongho took her other hand, leading her to the couch and making her sit in the middle, San sitting on one side and Yeosang on the other, and Wooyoung made sure everyone was sitting in front of the screen before he put the lights out, grinning as he sat on the floor mat in front of Seohyun. Seohyun playfully kicked his back, earning a slap to the leg.

"Okay, I'm starting it."

Yeosang clicked a button and there was static for a few seconds before music started to play- music she realized was from one of the samples she'd heard from Hongjoong. She raised her brow at him, and he just winked.

Seohyun went back to watching the screen, which went black and then a video clip started playing- she frowned as she realized where it was from- school.

"Hi," Wooyoung said, "I made a new friend today, but she's kind of scary so I don't know when I'll be able to get a proper vlog with her- ow!"

Seohyun smacked Wooyoung's head. The teacher was about to come in. Wooyoung hid the camera and Seohyun said, "I owe you one."

"You owe me nothing-"

"Should I tell the teacher what exactly you were doing?"

"Boomer," Wooyoung muttered.

Seohyun laughed out loud, "I never heard you call me a boomer!" She smacked the back of Wooyoung's head again, and he laughed out loud.

"This is exactly why you didn't hear me!" Wooyoung laughed, rubbing his head.

The clip changed and Seohyun recognized the scene again-

"I win," Yeosang smirked.

"Next game, come on."

Seohyun drew another blank page and the two restarted another game of tic tac toe. This time, Seohyun went first and she won. Seohyun put a line on her tally count.

"This will go on forever," Yunho, who was watching them, said, "Whenever Seohyun goes first, she wins. Whenever Yeosang goes first, he wins. You both have this figured out- why don't you just shake hands and accept the draw?"

"No."

Yunho laughed as the both had glared at him and said no in unison, flipping the page and starting another game. Mingi, who was filming, turned the camera to himself and shook his head.

"They're never gonna stop."

"We did stop," Yeosang laughed, "Only because the teacher came."

"So who won?" San asked.

Seohyun sighed, smiling, "We shook hands and accepted draw."

The scene changed again, and it was from when Seohyun had first seen the warehouse and revealed that she knew how to play the piano- apparently Jongho had caught her playing the melody that she remembered from Hongjoong. It followed by the clips of the truth and dare game they had that night- the one when Seohyun finally told the boys that she could see ghosts. Everyone had a good laugh over it and Seohyun felt nostalgic as she watched Hongjoong's Billie Jeans imitation and Yunho's golden retriever. Seohyun had stopped them from filming the ghost evidence back then.

The clips that followed were all... ghost evidence. The boys used to play games with Jiwoo- like cards, tic tac toe, or such games, and Seohyun watched with her mouth open in disbelief as the amount of 'evidence' clips passed.

"Good thing Jiwoo's not here- if she was, I would have personally seen her out of this realm."

San rubbed her arm, laughing, "You never stopped them from filming."

Seohyun just shook her head, smiling as the clips changed to a compilation of their last day with Jiwoo, of them playing in the water, playing games and just laughing and having a good time. Seohyun felt bittersweet at the memories.

"Now here starts the fun part," Wooyoung winked.

And sure enough, fun it was.

"It appears my definition of fun differs from yours," Seohyun flushed as she saw a compilation of clips of San and Seohyun being the most obvious couple- looking at each other adoringly, holding hands, talking, etc. "I feel exposed."

"This was my idea- to put these in," San admitted, grinning at her flushed self, "I knew you'd like it."

Seohyun rolled her eyes but smiled, and they all watched the various clips from their outings together, until-

"Oh," Seohyun realized why this gift from Yeosang was late.

The drums playing itself, the piano playing itself, food flying in the air, cushions being thrown- all Seohyun as a ghost, and she had to admit the direction of this movie was clever.

"I'm going to wait till the end credits to comment," Seohyun muttered, watching the day of her birthday, smiling because it really looked like they had filmed the whole thing.

Seohyun's grip on San's hand tightened when she saw the clip from the day at the hospital when she finally woke up- the 'creepy sight' Hongjoong had referred to and Wooyoung had filmed- the sight being San and Seohyun staring and smiling at each other, their foreheads joined.

"You really had to add this?" Seohyun kicked Wooyoung's back lightly, making everyone giggle.

"This is like the epilogue of the whole thing," Mingi said.

The video ended with a picture of the 8- which Jiwoo had clicked on the beach. The end credits rolled, crediting everyone except Seohyun- even Jiwoo.

"Come on, I must have made at least one of the videos or pictures there-"

"In case you haven't noticed, you barely use your phone," Yunho retorted, and Seohyun pouted.

"So," Wooyoung turned, "What do you think?"

Seohyun couldn't stop herself from smiling, looking up as she felt her eyes burn, and the boys started chanting "DON'T CRY", making her laugh harder.

"This really is a gift from all of you- the memories, though I think I should thank Yeosang first," Seohyun smiled at him, taking his hand, "Thank you. You didn't have to waste your time on this."

"It wasn't a waste of time," Yeosang shook his head, "I had this idea when you were still... a ghost. So instead of making it bleaky with only ghost memories, I decided to do something like this. Wooyoung helped me a lot too."

"You all make me cry too much," Seohyun wiped the corners of her eyes, "I was never this emotional-"

"Oh please," Seonghwa shook his head, "If we had a clip from every time that you cried-"

"Okay, okay, I get it!" Seohyun laughed, "Thank you, all of you. This, us here right now, is the greatest Christmas gift I could have from anyone of you-"

"Now don't go being all sentimental on us, Seohyun-"

"Ugh, you guys don't let me breathe!" Seohyun glared at Jongho, who was doubling over with Mingi, "I'm saying it again, and you all better not interrupt. I really love you guys. It's been a great few months, despite the bad things that happened. I wouldn't have made it back without you guys. Thank you for everything."

They all smiled, Seohyun taking time to make eye contact with everyone.

"Thank you for sticking with us, I guess," Seonghwa grinned.

Wooyoung nodded. "I know we can be a loud bunch-"

"You don't say," Seohyun muttered.

"See, you interrupt us too when we're all sentimental!" Wooyoung turned to glare at her.

"Hey, who's idea was it to befriend me again?" Seohyun shrugged, "You brought this upon yourself-"

"It was because we thought a girl in our group would so us good! If I had known you talked and sat like a guy-"

Wooyoung shut up when Seohyun kicked his back, harder this time, making everyone howl with laughter at the two of them bickering.

"Hey, she can be girly when she wants to be-"

"You're not helping, San!"

"It's imitation time, Yunho!" Yeosang called his attention and Yunho bowed, getting up and preparing himself to act like Seohyun.

He walked a few feet away, rolling his sleeves up, which already had the boys laughing, stealing Hongjoong's cap so he could complete the 'Seohyun' look.

"So here's how she walks-" Yunho hunched his shoulders a bit, his eyes darting here and there as he walked with light steps- a habit Seohyun had to make as less of a sound while walking as she could.

"It's because I look out for ghosts!" Seohyun folded her arms, slumping back as the boys laughed at the near perfect imitation, almost howling when Yunho slumped in the chair, sighing, legs apart but feet together, arms folded.

"That's perfect," Yeosang managed to say between laughter. Seohyun clenched her jaw, trying not to laugh.

"I feel exposed..."

"But that's how you really are like, baby," San scoffed.

"I could have been like one of those girls who's always walking like a model, sitting like this-" She tried mimicking those formal sitting positions, "And has her lashes fluttering every second, and is always worried about how she looks."

"See, I knew you'd fit in well with us," Wooyoung grinned, and Seohyun threw a pillow at him as San and Wooyoung started to bicker about Seohyun.

Seohyun smiled as she pet the cat that was now in her lap, looking around at the boys, all smiles and laughter, no worries. Yeosang noticed her expressions and raised his brows.

Seohyun smiled.

"This really does feel like home."

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

Thank you for reading and supporting! <3

[your-nerd-is-showing]

AOT Alpha Levi x Omega Reader

Hi I am alive lol just had writers block.... Well still kinda do so this is something I had in the works and just needed a little bit to finish! Enjoy!

NSFW AFTER PHOTO

Content: Smut

Warnings: Slight bondage, unprotected sex, knotting, minors not allowed!

“Captain Levi!” Shouts a female voice. “Come on let's go out and have a drink!” The unknown female grabs his arm leading him down the street.

He walks into the bar but still can’t make out her entire face all he can see is long flowing (H/C) hair and beautiful piercing (E/C) eyes.

Suddenly there is an explosion, everything turns black and all Levi can hear is the female’s voice screaming out. “I’ll find you in every lifetime my love I swear it!”

Levi jolted awake from his dream drenched in sweat his breathing was heavy. “The same female in every dream of mine…. It has to mean something…. Could my mate be closer than I think? I have to find her soon…. (Y/N) where could you be?” He sniffed the air. “What's that wonderfully sweet aroma? It’s faint but it smells so good.”

Levi Ackerman thirty years old a very well known Alpha in search of his mate, but not any Omega it has to be her, the girl from his fantasies. The girl he has been with through every life time… (Y/N).

He rolled over and looked at his clock. “It’s only eleven pm?” He growled in frustration as he got up and got dressed. “I’m going to get a damn drink.” Levi headed out the door.

He made his way through the city, suddenly he smelled the same sweet aroma this time even stronger and before he knew it his feet were moving on their own in the direction of the sweet smell. His nose lead him to a bar. “The Moonlight Bar. Tch…. Sounds like a breeding ground for packs…. Not my kind of place.” He turned to leave.

“Levi!”

He whirled around. “Who’s there?” He called into the darkness but no one was around. He looked over to the bar entrance and saw a young female with long flowing (H/C) hair walk into the bar. He sniffed the air. “There's no doubt about it that intoxicating smell is coming from in there.” He rubbed his temples and sighed. “But why here? I remember hearing that this bar is for the black market of our kind and they auction off Omega's to pompous rich bastards that are too lazy to look for their own mates. I would never be caught dead in a place like this…. But against my better judgment….” He sighed again. “I’m going in.”

Hesitantly he walked up to the door and was instantly recognized by the bouncer.

“Ca- uh I-I mean Alpha Levi?” Said a young man with chestnut brown hair and green eyes.

“Tch…. Yes that’s me….” He replied.

The young man just looked at him dumbfounded.

“So are you going to let me in or am I not good enough?”

“S-sorry sir of course you can come in! I just never expected that you would show up here of all places.” Replied the young man as he opened the door for Levi.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Asked Levi.

“He doesn’t remember anything from our past lives? Odd.” The young man thought to himself.

“My name is Eren Jaeger.” He held out his hand to shake Levi's. “I’m a member of your pack actually that’s why I'm so surprised to see you here. You never struck me as the type who would want to buy themselves a wife.”

He shook Eren's hand and got a flashback of him riding on a horse. He was with a group of people, the only faces he could make out were Eren's and now he could finally see the face of his beloved (Y/N).

“Eren I know you from my past life?”

“Yes we served together in the Scouts. It’s good to see you it’s been too long. Come inside there’s a bunch of your friends in here we all work here.” Eren turned to his coworker. “I'll send you out back up ok?”

They went inside the bar, the sweet smell was now overwhelming his senses.

“Hey Eren do you smell that extremely sweet smell?” Levi asked him.

Eren sniffed the air. “No I don’t smell anything. Maybe one of the females is going through her heat cycle right now.” Eren's eyes grew wide.

“What?”

“When an Alpha smells that sweet aroma that means his mate is close! Only Alpha's can smell Omega's heat cycles remember?”

“That's why I’ve been brought here then and I'm guessing because I know you, you know who my mate is.”

“Right you are Levi! And good news she works here with us but isn’t part of our pack, she’s been waiting for you for a long time Levi.”

“Well what are you waiting for? Bring me to her you brat.”

Eren chuckled. “Still the same Levi with your sharp tongue. Okay follow me.” Eren brought Levi to the bar. “Here have a seat I’ll go get her.”

Levi sat down as Eren disappeared through the door to the kitchen.

“Hey Hanji where's (Y/N)? Levi is here for her.”

“She went to the bathroom the poor girl is in heat this one is really bad. She’s going crazy…. Babbling on about some irresistible musky smell. I'm worried about her with all the Alpha's around here.”

“And you let her go to the bathroom by herself!?”

Levi glanced over and saw you go into the bathroom, seconds after you went in a male followed you in. “Tch…. Like hell I’ll let that happen!”

You stumbled into the bathroom dizzy you couldn’t think straight as you collapsed on the sink. “W-what the hell is going on with me? I'm so out of it.” You tried to pull yourself up. “That smell…. That wonderful musky smell its overwhelming….”

“You know girl you really shouldn’t be here when you’re in heat like this.” Said a man from behind you he pushed up against you grabbing at your clothes. “Someone might get the wrong idea Omega…”

“What are you doing to me get off!” You wined out.

“You reek of pheromones you’re just begging to be wrecked by an Alpha!”

“Yea too bad it’s not you!” Shouted Levi as he pulled the Alpha off of you.

“L-Levi!?”

Levi punched the Alpha out with one hit.

Instantly your animal instincts took over and you pounced on Levi tearing at his clothes as you locked lips with him. He broke the kiss. “Seriously (Y/N) here in the bathroom that’s disgusting.”

“Levi!” You squeaked out as you grabbed his hand shoving it between your legs so he could feel how wet you were. “I honestly can’t help it my-my body is moving on its own. Please h-help relieve me, I've been waiting so long for you my love…. I've endured many lonely painful heat cycles without you…. I'm begging you.” You locked the bathroom door and pulled Levi's pants down taking his member in your mouth.

“Ung.” Grunted Levi his animal instincts getting the better of him. “O-okay (Y/N) quickly then I am taking you back to my apartment.” He pulled you off his member and pushed you up against the wall without a second thought you wrapped your legs around his waist. He moved your panties to the side and slipped in instantly giving you relief.

“Oooooooh L-Leviiiiiii!” You howled out as he went deep inside you.

He held your hips and thrusted deeper into you making you soak the floor.

You grabbed his head and attacked his lips kissing him passionately as you moaned into his mouth while he pounded into you.

Suddenly he stopped. “No we can’t do this here (Y/N)…. Our first time can’t be in the bathroom. You've heard how it gets the first time an Alpha and Omega mate.” He pulled himself together along with you.

“Levi!” You wined out as you tugged at his shirt.

“Behave brat.” He said as he carried you out of the bathroom. “If I have to keep my composure so do you.” He let you down instantly you clung to him.

All eyes were on the two of you as you made your way out of the bar another Alpha twice the size of Levi was stupid enough to try and come between you and him.

“Hey beautiful.” He reached out his hand to you. “Why don’t you leave this scrawny bastard and get with a real Alpha!” He boasted.

You growled as the Alpha tried to touch you, Levi broke his hand.

“How dare you try and lay your filthy paws on my Mate!” He snarled as he broke his other hand. “Let this be a lesson to anyone who underestimates me!” He kicked the Alpha breaking his ribs.

Levi ran out the door carrying you, with each second passing it was getting harder and harder to control himself. He groaned out in discomfort as he felt his member become unbearably painful. Your pheromones were driving him up the wall as your sweet secretions leaked all over his arm and pants. He started to run faster through the city and before you knew it he was busting down his door tearing your clothes off.

He threw you onto the bed and attacked your soaking core like a feral animal, lapping up the sweet juices dripping out of you. He growled as he dove deeper into you nibbling your clit.

“Ah-ahhhh L-Leviiiiii!” You cried out in pleasure as he bit your inner thighs marking you.

“At long last, you’re finally mine (Y/N).” He kissed your abdomen before diving back in attacking your clit once more instantly making you squirt.

Wildly you thrashed at every little touch as he ate you out. “L-Le-Leviiiii!” You howled out as he slowly dragged his tongue along your clit.

With every passing minute, Levi's animal instincts were becoming harder and harder to suppress. “F-fuck (Y/N) I can’t take it your sweet smell is driving me crazy.” He came up from between your legs and walked over to his closet. “Time for some real entertainment.” He came back over to you with a collar, chains and a paddle.

You looked at him all excited. “Oooooooh this is going to be fun!” You giggled.

Levi grabbed you and put the collar on your neck. He yanked on the leash hard pulling you over to him. He turned you around and pushed you onto the bed ass straight up in the air your sweet secretions dripping out of you. Levi took the chains bounded your hands and feet. With one final tug he spread your legs wide open putting you on display for him to marvel at. “That’s a good girl so willing and ready for her Alpha.” He wrapped his muscular arm around your stomach forcing you down the air got thick all of a sudden, as you gasped in surprise. “I’m going to take you now.” He whispered into your ear, you felt the knot in your stomach get tighter as your heart tried to beat out of your chest.

For so long you’ve waited for this day, for so long your body has been begging for its mate. You gasped in surprise as Levi rammed his cock inside you while he bit down on your neck hard marking you again. He yanked on the leash choking you as he pounded into you. You arched your back howling out in pleasure as Levi clawed at your stomach going deeper and deeper with every thrust. “Ohhhhh my God Levi!” You moaned out as he slapped your ass with the paddle.

“That’s a good girl fuck (Y/N) you feel so good on him!” Levi howled as he grabbed your hips pounding deeper and deeper.

“Oh, oh, Ohhhhhh Levi fuck that feels amazing, Ohhhhh yes just like that!” You moaned out as he rammed deeper into you. You felt the knot in your stomach tense up as you became wetter with every thrust, your knees started to shake. “Fuck L-Le-Leviiiii I'm, I’m, I’m gonna c-cu-cummmmmmm!” You howled out Levi pounded into you even deeper as your toes curled, back arching, body trembling Levi earned your first orgasm.

Levi pulled out and undid all the chains so he could lay you down on the bed. He spread your legs going back down on you licking up your sweet juices as he inserted a couple fingers.

You moaned out as you grabbed small fist fulls of Levi's soft raven hair gently tugging it as he nipped at your clit making you squirt. You slowly moved your hips as Levi's fingers moved faster in and out of you.

He pressed his tongue to your clit and swirled it around, Levi felt your body tense up as your walls clenched around his fingers feeling your juices leak out of you as he got another orgasm from you. “That’s a good girl cum for me!” He pulled his fingers out and licked up the juices. He positioned himself between your legs.

You looked up at Levi. “I want to be on top…. If that’s okay with you Levi?”

“Of course it is (Y/N).” Levi laid down and you mounted him slowly sliding down on his throbbing cock making him moan. “Fuck (Y/N).” Levi grabbed your ass spreading your cheeks as he pounded into you.

You wildly rode Levi's cock feeling the growing knot at the base of his shaft, your core was throbbing as you felt yourself preparing to take his knot. Your body started to tremble as Levi's knot became bigger and bigger with every thrust. “F-fuck Levi I'm ready! My body is begging for you to shove your knot inside me! Give me your children Levi!” You howled out as you leaned down and bit his chest marking him.

Levi obeyed without hesitation and rammed his knot inside you, your walls clenching down on it as he released his seed.

You collapsed on his chest. “That was amazing my love.” You tenderly kissed him on the lips.

Levi removed the collar as he kissed you back. “Yes it was (Y/N I love you so much.” Levi moved his head towards your neck licking it until you fell asleep on top of him. He grabbed the blankets wrapping you and him up in them. He held you close still connected to you as he drifted off to sleep.

[sadistgalore]

Harper and Killian: Broken Soldier

did anyone order some Harper and Killian whump? read it before it gets cold!

Taglist: @tropes-for-my-md-daydreams , @whumptakesthecake , @all-whumped-out , @distinctlywhumpthing

CW: lady whump, noncon kissing/touching, possessive whumper, multiple whumpers/whumpees, conditioned whumpee trying to break out of his conditioning, slapping, stabbing, cutting, beating, broken bones, all the good stuff

He just wanted one night. One fucking night when they wouldn’t be hurt. When she wouldn’t be hurt. But of course Dark had other plans.

Killian had been lying on the dog bed in the corner, Harper was kneeling on the floor, and the two bastard men were sitting on the couch, watching TV. He wasn’t paying attention to what it was, but he was alert when he heard the unmistakable sound of a hand slapping a cheek.

He looked up and saw Harper clutching her face, shaking her head in a desperate plea before Dark pulled her up and onto his lap. He was forced to watch the man brutally kiss Harper, uncaring for how she felt at all. His hands dug into her hips as he swallowed her cries, and Killian noticed subtle grinding coming from his pelvic region.

She doesn’t want this. She’s being raped by that fucking man.

It’s none of your business.

When Harper gets hurt it is my damn business.

Killian let out a growl at the scene, body starting to move into a pounce position. Luther, who had been watching the duo with interest, turned to him and snapped his fingers.

“Down, mutt.”

Down, down, down, down, get down.

No. I don’t wanna get down. Harper’s getting hurt.

“Harper,” he muttered, and that was enough to be heard by Dark, who pushed his pet off of him so he could get a better look at the dog.

“What,” he said in such a cold tone that it made Killian shiver. “Did you just say?”

The boy swallowed looking between the man and his master, who was subtly petting Harper’s hair. “I-I said Harper. I…don’t wa-want you to hurt her.”

“Ian-” Harper breathed, but she was cut off from saying anything else by a sharp glare by Dark.

The said man turned towards his friend. “What the hell is going on with your dog?”

Not a dog, not a dog, notadognotadognotadogiamaperson imma person person human human not pet no pet no dog

Luther pondered at his pet. “No idea. He wouldn’t dare act up like this,” he sat for a moment, then a smile formed across his lips. “Ed, hold your slut down for me, will you?”

Edward nodded and put Harper in his lap again, gripping her arms tightly behind her back. Luther walked over to Killian, who was still looking at Harper with worry but cringing away from his master at the same time. Luther pulled out his baton as Dark pulled out a knife.

“Doggy,” Luther started, smacking the baton against his hand just to see if Killian would flinch. He barely did, surprisingly. “You are falling out of your place. You know you don’t have any right to tell us what to do.”

He turned and nodded at Dark, who swiftly cut through Harper’s collarbone. She gasped in pain, body used to the constant abuse, but Killian pounced.

Luther hit him down before he even made it a foot towards the couch, hitting him again when he tried to get back up. Killian coughed, body already aching from the blows. Still, he growled and made his way towards Harper.

Luther laughed at his attempt while Dark coldly stared the pet down, making a deep gash through Harper’s cheek. Killian, again, went down from the blows, but, despite the pain, got back up.

The man began to get frustrated and kicked him with full force, which made Harper scream for her friend’s pain as Luther began raining blows down on him. Dark continued cutting her open, gashes getting longer and deeper on her arms and chest.

Even after Luther ran out of breath, Killian still managed to reach out his hand. “…H-Harper…”

Dark scowled and stuck his knife through her leg, and Harper let out an ear piercing scream. She hunched over against his hold, wailing at the pain spreading throughout her body.

Seeing his friend in such agony made Killian pause on the floor, and Luther used that opportunity to slam his foot down on the boy’s hand, breaking a few fingers. Killian howled, clutching his hand once it was released.

This is what you get. You were a bad pet and now you’re paying the price.

NononohavetohelpHarperhavetohelpHarper

BE GOOD.

The boy curled up into a ball, finally submitting before his master. Luther rolled his eyes and kicked him once more before making his way back to the couch.

“Dog,” came a cold voice, and the boy looked up to see the dark gaze of Edward Darmine. Once their eyes met, he dragged his tongue over the gash on her cheek, licking up the blood that poured out. Harper sniffled but remained still, eyes shining with tears as she stared at her friend. Killian looked back and mouthed an “I’m sorry,” before curling back up.

Luther pushed a button on the remote, and the two resumed the movie like nothing ever happened.

[hxseok-honee]

atlas heart || jung hoseok

>> because hoseok's too lost in his thoughts to see he's not alone <<

_____________________________

1973, October

“I could have sworn the tracks were around here somewhere… are those it?” Hoseok moves through the Forbidden Forest, the flashlight on his phone guiding his way in his blind search for his most recent obsession. He’s only 13, and he’s well aware that every other normal 13-year-old is fast asleep in their bed this late at night, but he’s never been normal. Crouching low to the forest floor, he holds out his phone to get a better look at the animal tracks stamped into the mud. When he sees that they look vaguely dog-like, he can’t help the cheer of success that escapes him. Only when it echoes through the air around him does he remember just how reckless he’s acting by being out here without having informed Dumbledore first.

The headmaster had granted him access to the Forbidden Forest on strict instructions to always ask permission before venturing into it. Usually, Hoseok would have visited the man, but tonight he’d just gotten so excited about potentially discovering the legendary sentient pack of wolves that he had simply… forgotten about the one rule he’s always supposed to follow. The wind picks up suddenly, and a shiver rips through him violently. He shakes his head, returning his attention to the tracks on the ground and the notes he’d jotted down in his journal beforehand.

“It’s fine. I’m fine. I’ll just stay a few more minutes, and then--” The sound of heavy breathing just behind him brings Hoseok’s monologue to a screeching halt, and when he turns to look over his shoulder, he very much wishes that he hadn’t.

Hovering between the trees not too far away is a creature he’d only seen in his Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook. The werewolf hasn’t seen him yet, and that’s the only reason Hoseok hasn’t started running for his life. It’s sniffing cautiously at the air around it, whining softly every few moments as if in pain. Without even daring to take a breath, Hoseok slips his phone into the pocket of his pajama pants, praying to whatever higher being that might be watching over him at that moment that it hasn’t noticed the flashlight and will continue to remain oblivious to his presence.

Rising to his feet painstakingly slowly, he starts to back away from the werewolf, refusing to even blink out of fear that he’ll miss the moment he’s caught. Pursing his lips together to keep himself from breathing too loudly, he immediately opens them to gasp when his foot comes down on a branch, the snap of it attracting the werewolf’s attention right to him.

In the seconds that follow, Hoseok isn’t sure when he started running or when he started crying, but he’s suddenly stumbling through the forest, his vision blurred with hot tears as he tries to escape. Leaves crunch behind him, alerting him to just how close he is to being ripped to shreds.

I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die, I don’t want to-- there!

Slipping on a piles of leaves, Hoseok makes a beeline for the tree just beyond the clearing he’s currently racing through, having seen its low-hanging branches even through his tears. He screams when he feels something tear the back of his shirt, and he knows that he’s literally within death’s reach. Unwilling to look back, he starts to climb, swinging himself up through the branches until he gets to the stable trunk of the humongous tree. He can hear scratching just below him, and he knows the werewolf is trying to follow. He spares a glance down at the ground when he gets high enough, seeing that it’s failed to chase him up the tree. Hoseok climbs a few feet higher just for good measure and stares down at the creature that’s watching him with predatory eyes. It even goes so far as to howl at him, startling him beyond his current state of overwhelming fear.

Settling into his spot in the tree, Hoseok examines himself, feeling at his torso and limbs with trembling hands for any wounds. His pajama shirt is essentially useless now, but there are no scratches, which is really all he cares about. Watching the werewolf carefully as it circles the tree, he reaches for his phone to call for help, only to find his pockets empty. He'd dropped the damn thing.

“Damn it… looks like I’m stuck here for the night.” Glaring hatefully up at the full moon, he gauges how many hours it’ll be before the sun rises and decides that this might as well serve as firsthand research into werewolves.

For the next three hours, Hoseok watches the wolf dance around his hiding spot, trying with futility every now and then to make its way up the tree to him. Eventually, it howls wildly at the moon, the sound almost pained. Hoseok watches with horror as it turns on itself in frustration, tearing at its own skin with cries of pain and rage. He can only watch for a few minutes before he’s reaching out for anything in the tree that’ll get its attention. Latching onto a branch nearby that’s weak enough for him to break off, he launches it down at the werewolf, yelling out to it angrily.

“Hey! Hey, stop that! You’re gonna kill yourself doing that, you idiot!” The creature glares up at him in surprise, almost as if having forgotten his presence. It snarls at him once, and Hoseok immediately regrets that he’s just reminded it that there’s a meal not even 20 feet above its head. When it sees that it still can’t reach him, it turns back on itself, its skin already torn and bloody.

For the next hour or so, Hoseok plays this game with the werewolf -- throwing whatever he can get his hands on down at it so that it doesn’t hurt itself anymore, and then sitting in fearful silence as it attempts to snag him from the tree. By the time the sun’s started to peek out from behind the mountains, Hoseok is both proud of himself for not letting this werewolf die and in a real state of annoyance for keeping its dangerous attention on him for so much longer than necessary.

When the first beams of light hit his face, he feels an overwhelming sense of relief wash over him, but it doesn’t last long. Below him, there’s a quiet whimpering, and when he looks down, there’s a young girl curled up on the ground, very naked and very wounded. Swearing under his breath, Hoseok scrambles down the tree, stopping short when he turns and sees just how young she is. Despite this girl almost having torn him apart, he only feels sympathy.

It tears at his heart even as he’s removing what’s left of his pajamas, shivering in his boxer shorts as the chilly October air nips at his skin. Doing his best to avert his eyes wherever necessary, he pulls the shirt over her head, cradling her in his lap as he slips his pants onto her body, noting just how small she looks in them. There’s so much blood that, if not for her labored breaths, he wouldn’t even be able to tell if she was still alive.

Lifting her onto his back, he tries so painfully hard not to jostle her as he races through the forest, piggy-backing her across the grounds and into the castle in the faint early morning light.

1974, January

Hoseok hears the crunching of the leaves long before it comes anywhere near him. It’s just around lunchtime -- he’d learned his lesson about wandering the forest late at night. Turning just when the person gets close enough that he’s sure to be discovered, he isn’t prepared to meet the eyes of the same girl who’d tried to kill him all those months ago.

She’s peering out at him from behind a tree, her gaze filled with caution and, quite honestly, fear. Hoseok rises from his crouch, a noise of recognition leaving him and falling into the space between them awkwardly.

“It’s you… you’re okay.” Hoseok remembers staying with her after bursting into the Hospital Wing with her on his back, her blood staining his skin for much longer than he’d care to think about. Once he’d known for sure that Madam Pomfrey could help her, he hates to admit that he’d run straight for his room, sobbing as he’d tried to scrub her blood from his body in the shower before any of his roommates could wake up. Even now, he sometimes stares down at his arms under the burning hot water and thinks it might be pinker than it actually is.

He’d avoided almost everyone from that moment on -- in fact the only person he’d talk to was Dumbledore. He’d demanded to know what the hell was going on at Hogwarts, but even through his anger he hadn’t been able to erase the memory of her, the cries of pain that had left her as she’d tried to rip her heart from her own body. Only when he’d stopped barging into Dumbledore’s office, blind with terrified rage, had he started visiting the man simply because he could think of nothing -- could feel nothing -- but the need to protect her from herself.

“She’s just a kid.” He’d told the headmaster one day, wracked with a terrible sadness. “She didn’t know what she was doing -- she’s just a kid…”

“Mister Jung, why exactly is it that you keep coming to me when you’re conflicted? What is it that I can do to ease your pain?” He’d met Dumbledore’s concerned gaze then, his own eyes wide and watery with tears of frustration.

“I need to do something. I need you to help me help her. Please.”

“It’s you…” Hoseok finds that he’s repeating himself, calling out to her in the softest of whispers, terrified of scaring her off. She inches out from behind the tree, and Hoseok notes that, for a murderous werewolf, she’s shaking like a leaf in his presence. She’s holding a paper bag, refusing to meet his eyes as she creeps toward him. Hoseok only watches with careful eyes, taking her in in the light of the day.

When she’s close enough to reach out to him, she stretches the bag out in front of her, offering it to him. He takes it with care, opening it slowly and peeking in at its contents. There’s a bowl inside covered in tin foil, and when he removes it he sees there’s a serving of pasta, still warm from the Great Hall.

“I asked Jungkookie to keep an eye on you at meal times to see what you liked, but you never eat lunch… so it took a while for me to find out…” Her voice is soft, fearful. The sound of it has him fixating on her again, almost obsessed with this new layer of her that he hadn’t known until now. He has no idea who ‘Jungkookie’ is, but a part of him is relieved to know she has a friend. He opens his mouth to thank her for the meal, but she’s not done talking.

“It’s not much of an apology, but I needed an excuse to say it in person… I’m really sorry for what happened that night… I’ve been trying to gather the courage to face you, and I understand if you hate me for almost killing you…” They stand there in uncomfortable silence, Hoseok unable to respond to such an unexpected conversation. She takes his silence as her cue to leave him be, and, with the slightest tremble of her lips, she turns to leave. Hoseok blinks, stepping toward her slightly.

“Wait, don’t -- don’t go.” She looks up at him in surprise, the expression turning to guarded caution when he reaches into his pocket for something. Catching the change in her body language, he moves slowly, pulling a vial out and offering it to her. Its contents, a milky grey, emit a faint blue smoke which swirls gently in the space between the liquid and the vial’s topper. She takes it from him, examining it with confusion. He explains, stepping ever closer to her.

“I have more in my room… I packed it away so no one would find it. It’s supposed to taste really, really bad, but Dumbledore said… he said it would help.” She gazes up at him, her eyes glazing over with unshed tears as she realizes what he’s gifted her.

“Why are you… why are you helping me after what I did?” Hoseok smiles ever so slightly, crouching so he can sit on the cold ground and motioning for her to do the same. When she’s next to him, he removes the bowl from the bag she’d handed him and digs into the pasta. He swallows hard, offering her the fork as casually as possible when he’s done. He offers it once more when she looks at him in surprise, his smile widening as she finally picks at a noodle carefully before setting it between her teeth.

They sit there awkwardly, taking turns eating his lunch, while he figures out how to answer her. Eventually he just decides not to, asking his own question instead.

“What’s your name?” He knows it, of course -- Dumbledore had told him only after Hoseok had begged to know, but he wants to hear her say it. He wants to know if she’ll trust him with even that much. He’s barely able to contain his smile when it falls from her lips in a whisper.

“It’s Y/n… I’m Y/n.”

1976, May

Hoseok runs a hand down the side of his face, rubbing at his eye with a yawn as he stares down at the endless pile of study material on the table in front of him. With only a few weeks until his O.W.L exams, he can feel himself quickly falling apart from the stress. His only saving grace is the boy that sits in front of him, looking equally exhausted. Yoongi stifles a yawn of his own as he scratches down a few notes on the scroll of parchment before him, only pausing when he realizes he’s being watched. Glancing up through his lashes and finding that Hoseok’s staring quite openly at him, the pale boy flushes with embarrassment. Masking his smile at the reaction he’s gotten out of Yoongi, Hoseok raises a single eyebrow, gesturing at his cheek.

You’ve got ink on your face, he mouths, careful not to be too loud in such a silent, crowded library. Yoongi’s own eyebrows flick up, and he scrubs at his completely ink-free cheek with the sleeve of his sweater. Hoseok glances around at the rest of the table, filled with the group of their housemates that he always finds himself surrounded by, and notes that none of them have noticed this little conversation he and Yoongi are having.

Emboldened by this thinly-veiled privacy, Hoseok leans forward and reaches across the table, catching Yoongi’s attention. Swiping his thumb along the span of cheek where he’d claimed to have seen this nonexistent ink, he lets his hand linger on Yoongi’s skin. He leans back with an easy smile when he sees that Yoongi’s stopped breathing entirely, cursing himself internally for the sudden show of affection. He’s about to return to his work as if he hadn’t just very clearly hit on his own roommate, but a flash of blue passing by catches his eye.

Almost as if nothing else exists, Hoseok’s vision focuses in on a very familiar Ravenclaw, watching as she makes her way down one of aisles in search of something. A quick glance at the date on his phone tells him that the next full moon is less than a week away, and suddenly he’s rising to his feet, completely forgetting about the boy he’s just caused to short-circuit as he wanders in Y/n’s direction.

Keeping his pace easy, as if he’s looking for something himself, he alerts her to his presence with a simple brush of his elbow against her torso. She jumps lightly, glancing up at him before looking away, not wanting to be seen interacting with him. She reaches up for a book on a shelf above her head, but her fingers are barely able to skim the spine of it. Hoseok reaches up for it immediately and, once he’s lowered the tome into her hands, he’s checking his surroundings.

When he knows no one’s looking, he lifts his hand to her forehead, feeling for her temperature while she still faces inward toward the bookshelves. Grimacing at the warmth, he lowers his hand to her throat, pressing two fingers into her pulse point. It’s thunderous under his touch, about as fast as it usually gets right before the full moon.

Releasing her, he positions himself in the opposite direction as her, leaning against the shelves as he thumbs through a random book. After a moment, he lifts his gaze, meeting her eyes and breathing out deeply when he sees how bloodshot they are. She looks exhausted, her expression hazy and disoriented enough that Hoseok almost steps in to steady her, forgetting that they’re in public.

Guessing that he’s been here too long, Hoseok offers Y/n one last squeeze to her hand as he passes her on his way out of the aisle. It’s only when he takes his seat and takes out his phone to text Jungkook that he remembers how, not even five minutes ago, all he could think about was the boy in front of him. It seems silly to him now, stressing over a schoolboy crush when he’s got so much more to worry about.

1977, September

“H-hobi?” Hoseok looks up from where he’s examining animal tracks, his eyebrows raised with amusement when Y/n comes into view. She’d only just called him that nickname for the first time over text not 15 minutes ago -- he can’t help but find it endearing that she’s testing the waters in person.

“Hey, you.” She’s holding two paper bags, their lunches likely packed by house elves so she could avoid the Great Hall. Hoseok beckons her over, pointing at a fallen tree trunk not far away for her to sit on. She perches on it quietly, setting his lunch down next to her for whenever he gets hungry. He can tell by the cautious way she’s eating that she’s trying her best not to disturb him, and he can’t help but snicker under his breath. He glances up to meet her confused gaze before returning to the animal tracks, his smirk well-placed.

“You get invited to a nice lunch by a friendly housemate, but instead of awkwardly sitting with Park Jimin and his friends, you choose… to sit awkwardly with me in the forest.” He doesn’t need to look up again to see that she’s probably blushing, always embarrassed when he mentions how shy she still gets when she’s alone with him. It never happens when they’re texting or talking on the phone -- almost as if not physically being near him gives her courage, she shows him her true self in those moments. But when they’re alone like this, Hoseoks feels the effect that his presence has on her.

It’s been years since they’d first met, but Hoseok can tell Y/n still feels guilty and indebted to him for the night she’d almost killed him.

No matter how many times he’s tried to free her of that feeling, tried to reassure her that he’d forgiven her long ago, she inevitably becomes nervous every time they’re together. It almost makes Hoseok feel like they’d never get past it, and for that, he worries. He knows he’s not Jungkook -- boy, does he know it -- but no amount of teasing seems to ease the concern he feels when he sees how uncomfortable she is around him. Sometimes, the thought crosses his mind that maybe he shouldn’t have gotten involved in the first place. At least then, she wouldn’t have to face her guilt every time she meets his eyes.

“See, Moony, we told you Hoseok would be out here! Good man, predictable as always.” The sound of four pairs of feet heading in their direction has Hoseok rising to his feet, ready to greet the newcomers. He smirks when Sirius and James crash into the clearing, followed closely by Remus and Peter.

“Boys -- welcome to my little corner of the forest.” The Marauders greet Hoseok easily, their attention only drawn away when they see Hoseok’s not alone.

“Y/n! What a nice surprise!” Sirius calls out to her with a boyish grin, to which she only offers a shy smile and a wave. Lupin peers around Hoseok, smiling kindly in Y/n’s direction.

“Alright, Y/n?” Hoseok can practically feel the embarrassment radiating off of Y/n behind him, her crush on the older boy painfully obvious.

“R-remus, hi…” Sirius and James share a knowing glance, offering the same look to Hoseok when they’re done. He only rolls his eyes playfully, causing them to break out in matching smirks at his reaction. Deciding that he should maybe save Y/n from all the attention, Hoseok addresses them.

“So, what can this lowly Slytherin do for such high-ranking Gryffindors?” Sirius claps Hoseok on the shoulder good-naturedly at the remark.

“If only all Slytherins were like you, Jung. You’re one of a kind.” Hoseok only nods at the compliment, glancing at Remus for the answer to his previous question. The boy smiles tiredly in response.

“We were hoping you’d be able to help me out this month… our supplies are running low, and we can’t make enough for my full dosage.” Hoseok hums, thinking about the potion kit sitting under his bed. After a moment, he nods.

“I think I’ve got enough to spare this month. I’ve noticed there’s a shortage of certain ingredients recently, so it would be hard for you guys to get restocked in time. Let me know what you need.” He says it with finality, knowing how hard it would be on Remus this month without the wolfsbane potion. Lupin smiles gratefully at him, pulling a list from his pocket and beckoning Hoseok in to peruse it with him.

In the midst of jotting down notes in his phone for later, Hoseok hears when Sirius and James shift their attention to the girl still sitting on the tree trunk quietly. They call out, Sirius motioning out over Hoseok’s shoulder at her.

“Y/n, why are you so far away? We’re not strangers, you know!” Hoseok can tell it’s a very obvious ploy to get her to stand closer to Remus, but he ignores their antics while he focuses on the list of potion ingredients. Y/n doesn’t respond, and Hoseok thinks maybe she’s politely declined their invitation to join them, but a gentle tug at the back of his shirt alerts him to her presence.

Pulling his gaze from the list just long enough to glance over his shoulder, he finds her there, peering out at the Gryffindors from behind his shoulder. Hoseok knows from experience and years of friendship with Y/n that she can certainly hold her own -- she’s a werewolf for fuck’s sake -- but in this moment she looks so… small. Hoseok definitely has the height, but the pull of her hand on his shirt and the way she seems to cling to him -- it makes him feel like a wall between her and the world. Even in front of her childhood crush and his friends, people that have proven time and time again to be her allies, she’s won't face them head-on.

Humming contemplatively, a slight smirk growing on his lips, James shoots Hoseok a nod of acknowledgement at the display.

“It seems Y/n has more than just Jungkook to protect her.” The grip on the back of his shirt tightens, as if to tell him that she doesn’t like the attention she’s being given. Years of hiding from everyone and anyone who could possibly look her way had made her anxious person, and Hoseok knows she’s not comfortable. The Gryffindor's comment bounces around in his mind as he realizes that, despite how nervous Hoseok makes her, James is right. Y/n has deliberately put herself behind him -- it’s not that he’s conveniently in the way, a wall without purpose. Hoseok knows that he probably could have seen this long ago, that he's been too stuck thinking of his presence as a burden to her to see this simple truth.

That she needs him.

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

❛ TWENTY ONE SECONDS ❜

Headcanon.

with Ezekiel ‘EZ’ Reyes.

Request: As for the request, I am so tired my brain isn't even functioning to give you one. So instead, I'm just nudging you towards our bargain. Post-prison sex with Ez?

BY @ly--canthrope

Warnings: NSFW, smut and feels, the best combination.

Word count: about 1.2k

Aurora says: this writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!

Gif credits: to the author.

Masterlist. You can subscribe to my broadcast list, to be notified whenever I post a writing!

It's been a week since EZ came out from prison, passing the days by mostly sleeping and resting after eight long years with a firm schedule of tasks and activities.

You understand him, but you don't understand why he pushes you away anytime you try to go ahead.

Starting to think that maybe he used you to keep clinging to some kind of future out of jail, now he doesn't know how to break up with you after living together.

Anytime that he's not close, you can't help but cry disconsolately.

So you take your own decision.

Keeping the few things you have there into a small suitcase, you don't turn when you hear the door of the trailer getting opened.

“What are you doin'?” Angel asks confused, looking at your stuff over your shoulder.

“Leaving”. You just sob.

“Did my shitty brother… break up with you?”

“Not directly, but it seems what he wants to do, and doesn't know how. So I'm doing it for him”.

“Wait, wait, wait. The hell are you talking 'bout, querida?” Urging you to turn, he is trying to find an explanation.

“He just… pushes me away”.

“He is a prospect, he has to do a lot of shit”.

“Ain't talking about that, Angel. I know he has a job now, but… he… The last time EZ kissed me was two days ago. He doesn't touch me. He… waits for me to be asleep, to come to the bed. And… And… I don't know what I'm doing wrong”.

You can't help but collapsing into a bunch of tears. Angel hugs you tightly, stroking your hair as he tries to comfort you.

“Listen, just… give him some time. It's a big change. He's just… finding the way to deal with his new life, okay? But he really loves you, mami. A lot. You can't fake that shit”.

Ezekiel has heard you two.

But that night, he continues acting as always. Distant and silent.

You pretend that you don't hear him jerking himself off inside the bathroom, in the middle of the night, making you feel worse, insecure and unhappy.

Stepping out of the trailer, you light up a cig in your lips. Now, you know that he's not the problem, but you.

The next day when you come back from work, decided to talk with him, you accidentally listen to a conversation between the Reyes brothers.

“Man… she's a fucking goddess”.

“Thank you for the info, Angel, I ain't fucking blind”.

“Then what's the problem? No offense, but if she was my girlfriend… Jeez, I would be fucking her until my dick fell into pieces”.

“I am the problem”. EZ growls frustrated. “Eight fucking years in prison, without… having more fucking sex than using my fucking hand has broke… something inside me. I mean, I ca—I can't fucking last more than… twenty seconds”.

Silence inside the trailer, while you are freaking out outside.

“Okay, this is the first and the last time I'm gonna talk with you about sex... You should tell her”.

“For what? Angel, no matter how much she loves me, you need sex to make work a relationship. That… bullshit about being together is enough is… just bullshit”.

“Yeah, maybe it is bullshit, but she thinks that you want to break up with her”.

“I know, I… heard you last night… I don't wanna lose her, but… she doesn't deserve a man who can't please her”.

“You don't have to use only your cock. You know it, right, genius?”

“But it's not the fucking same, Angel. She will get tired. Finding someone bett—Fuck, I can't even breath thinking about it”.

That really breaks your heart.

Those words are making you feel devastated, knowing that it's not you.

You hide yourself when they come out of the trailer, starting to think about something.

And you wait awake for him, surprising your boyfriend who wasn't expecting it.

“Isn't too late?” He asks, trying to pretend that he's not nervous.

“I heard you talking with Angel”.

His heart jumps, gulping and putting his gaze away from you. Getting up from the bed, you walk towards him as soon as you discover that he's about to cry, ashamed.

“Zeke, lemme help you. Please…”

“I ca—I can't. I've been trying it… Shit, I've been reco—recording the fucking time”. That confession really melts your heart, leaning forward to kiss every tear on his cheeks. “I'm sorry… I swear that I'm trying… Don't leave me, ple—please… It will… It will work, I promise”.

You couldn't.

So, even if it sounds a little cold, you start to schedule your sexual encounters.

At the beginning, it's just about kisses. You two lie down on his bed, kissing for some minutes, until he cums in your hand.

The first time, he cries and tells you how sorry he is. But you don't care. It's okay for you, because you really want to help him. Not only for you, but for his insecurities that don't let him sleep.

Bit by bit, he feels a little more comfortable with the situation, aware that you're not going to break up with him just because he needs some patience.

After his first ride, being two days out of Santo Padre, EZ feels plenty. Ready to take another step ahead.

He knows how to use his hands with you, how to make you beg for him, how to make you stirr under his touches. He is lying by his right side, with his lips fixed on yours, drinking every gasp you utter. And his thick fingers hitting you. Until, to your surprise, he settles himself between your legs, without breaking the kiss. With a desperate slam, he digs his cock inside you, and you can swear to God that you have never felt this good. His pace is somewhat low, letting you mold your wet pussy around his hardness. Ezekiel's face is sunk in your neck, barely breathing, making the effort as your vocals become a little more loud.

“Oh, fuck, babe…” He mumbles. “You are so fucking warm… shit”.

“I'm… I'm gonna cum, EZ”.

“Fuck… yes, babe…” You can notice the proud tone hidden in his moans, speeding up every move he does rocking his hips.

You're close. Too close. Letting yourself go when you can't handle it no more. With your hands nailed on the back of his head, you can't help but cry out his name. The mix of feelings inside you is indescribable, closing your eyes strongly with a bunch of gasps stuck in your throat.

“Can I… Can I come inside you?” He whispers with a trembling tone of voice.

You don't need to say a single word, catching his lips between yours and surrounding his waist with one leg to push him deeper. Some furious thrusts after, he fills you up with a delighted howl flooding the trailer. The heat is wrapping your bodies, almost sweating while your sleepy tongues try to fight the other.

Hearing him laugh again is the best thing that could ever happen to you, hugging you excited because he finally felt like he was really pleasing you.

[marmolady]

Back to School

Main Pairings: Estela x (f)MC, hints of Quinchelle

Summary: Endless Ending. The Catalysts are heading back to school. Or, at least, most of them are. For Taylor, Hartfeld is a whole new beginning... but the past isn't done with her yet.

WARNINGS: Character death (flashbacks), self-harm.

Word Count: 6348

Chronology: After 'Homecoming' and 'Clarity'.

Tagging: @saivilo, @edgydepressedchoicesthot, @sceptilemasterr, @greengroove @mauvecatfic​

Thanks for reading

“Stay with me, okay? S-stay with me!” Taylor frantically tried to stem the bleeding with the shirt she’d taken off her own back, but it was already stained through. “I can’t… I can’t lose you too. Not you, Diego, please…. P-please…. Please….”

His breath rattled in his throat, strained and weak. “T-tell… tell Varyyn I’m… I… s-sorr--”

“No. No. You’ll tell him yourself, all right? You’ve got to hang on, Diego, please….”

Even as Taylor spoke, she could feel her friend’s fingers growing cold in hers. A distant yell sent a chill down her spine. The Arachnids were closing in. If she was going to get Diego to safety, she had to get him on his feet. Fast.

“...Tayl… you… f-find…” he croaked.

Taylor tried to meet his gaze and failed. He couldn’t see her there before him, though he was trying… he was trying so hard…. Until his eyes were still, searching no longer.

And she shrieked. She screamed into the night, knowing that she was good as sealing her own fate but not caring. How could she care anymore? She was alone. She collapsed into the blood-soaked chest of the best friend she’d ever had… and howled.

“Taylor!”

Woken by a shake, she kept on screaming, her body convulsing with violent sobs. Where was she?

Diego… Diego, no….

Estela cradled her face, stroking tenderly with gentle fingers. But all Taylor could see was a lingering vision of unseeing eyes. Of blood, and death, and….

“Shh-sh-sh-shh…, it’s over, amor. Everyone’s safe….”

Taylor tried to ground herself, to bring herself back, but she was swimming in anguish-- no, she was drowning.

“Diego!”

More urgently, Estela stroked Taylor’s face and hair. Her own eyes were sparkling. “Querida, he’s fine. He’s safe-- I swear he’s safe. Taylor-- Taylor? I need you to come back to me, baby….”

Something about the fear in that voice snapped Taylor to reality. Estela. Estela was holding her. They were… home.

The tears kept coming. Why? Why was she not allowed any fucking peace? She was broken… her head was broken….

She couldn’t stop howling, even as she was held. The blood could still be on her hands… she could feel it there….

“I… can’t… make it… stop…,” she whimpered. Her hands trembled as she lifted them; they tingled with the expectation of what should have been there but wasn’t. Why won’t it stop?  She raised a hand to her head and smacked herself with all the force she could muster.

“I… can’t… make it… STOP!” Taylor hollered, and she slammed her open palm to her head again and again, resisting Estela’s panicked grappling. “MAKE… IT… STOP!”

Then Estela managed to wrestle her way to Taylor’s hands. The grip was like iron, though Taylor kept on struggling.

“Taylor-- Taylor!”

“LET… ME… GO!”

“I’m sorry.… I’m sorry, I can’t. It’s okay that you’re overwhelmed and you’re scared, but you can’t… you can’t hurt yourself like that.”

“LET ME… let me….”

Taylor screamed and sobbed, but she stopped fighting at the sound of the pain in her wife’s voice, and let herself be cradled and gently rocked.

“Sh-shh-shh… I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

“It’s too much…,” Taylor whimpered through her tears. “I--I can’t stand it anymore.”

“I know, mi amor. I know.” Shaking, Estela softly kissed her wife’s temple. “Will you be all right if I let go? I’m just going to grab you a tissue, okay?”

Just then, there was a loud rapping at the door, followed by Quinn’s voice.

“Can we come in? It’s me and Michelle… just a little worried about you guys.”

“Yeah… come in. And if you wanna help, we could use some tissues.”

At the sight of more friends, looking towards her in concern, Taylor cried all the harder, and very quickly she was being hugged by Quinn and Michelle… and Diego, who was also now wide awake and worried. Surrounded by friends’ arms and soothing words, she let her emotions flow forth until she had no tears left to cry.

With the risk of Taylor hurting herself diminished, Estela stepped away to get a hold of herself. “I’ll just get you a drink of water, cariña, okay?”

Taylor blew her nose noisily. “Actually, um, I might get up for a little while. If I try and go back to sleep now, I’m pretty sure it’s just gonna be nightmares all over again.” She shrunk into herself guiltily. This was not the ‘good night’s sleep before the first day of college’ that everyone had in mind. “And I don’t expect everyone to stay up just for me--”

“Oh, shut up, Taylor.” Michelle offered another tissue. “The sooner you let us help you, the sooner we can all get some sleep, all right?”

It turned out-- unsurprisingly, given the noise-- that the rest of the house had been woken by Taylor’s shrieking.

“So, uh… someone getting murdered up there?” Zahra quipped as the group descended the stairs.

Estela gave her a look, but turned her attention quickly back to Taylor. God, she was still shaking like a leaf… and then Estela realised that her wife wasn’t the only one.

Pull yourself together. For fuck’s sake.

If she was going to be any use at all, Estela knew she needed to sort herself out… and it felt like she was on the verge of breaking down sobbing. “I’ll… I’ll get you that drink, Taylor.”

Grabbing a glass from her wife’s bedside table, Estela retreated to the bathroom and collapsed over the basin with her head in her hands.

Taylor hadn’t hurt herself before. The way she’d hit herself over the head, as if determined to pound out a part of her she couldn’t stand… it struck Estela as hauntingly like the way she herself had lost immunity to her own fists in her frantic need to purge the poison. It hadn’t happened many times-- four?-- five at the most-- but Taylor was like a human sponge; it wasn’t beyond the realms of possibility that she’d been influenced by her wife’s response to trauma and taken it as her own. That was troubling.

Estela felt ill. Sick with guilt. Helpless.

So, when Raj popped his head around the door to offer a hug, she all but fell into his arms, all the bottled-up frustration bursting forth.

“I know it was stupid and naive,” she lamented against her friend’s chest, “but I really thought we’d cracked it.”

“I wouldn’t say you haven’t cracked it,” Raj said thoughtfully. “Taylor used to have these visions most nights, right? If this is the first time it’s happened since you guys moved in here, you must be on the right track… but even the right track’s gonna have a bump in the road here and there.”

“If she’s waking up screaming in the middle of the night, ‘the right track’ isn’t fucking good enough!” To her frustration, angry tears splashed down Estela’s cheeks. Crying wouldn’t do a damn thing to help Taylor. Roughly, she rubbed her face dry. She should have seen this coming; stepping foot into Hartfeld University as a student would be, for Taylor, incredibly significant. Estela had known Taylor was stressed leading up to the start of term. She should have done more….

“Yeah… I know. And it’s not fair at all-- after everything our girl was prepared to do for us, the least she deserves is a bit of peace at the end of it. So, we’re just gonna have to keep on taking good care of her. Like she always does for us. You know-- if relaxation is the key to Tayls’ good night sleep, I’m happy to give coaching….”

In spite of everything, Estela spluttered a laugh. “Raj, if Taylor ever wants to give the getting stoned route a try, I’ll make sure you’re the first to know about it. If I’m honest, some days I could probably use some of that shit myself.”

Raj grinned. “Even just the thought got a smile out of you-- that’s a win! But if a good hug is more your thing, I’m more than happy to deliver on that one too.”

Estela exhaled slowly, her eyes shut. She’d needed that hug… more than she’d known. Those disturbed nights punctuated by the anguished sobs of her poor wife crying out in her sleep, and it had been all Estela could do to stay calm enough to offer any kind of soothing comfort… they’d taken a heavy toll.

“I need to go back to her,” she said quietly.

“So, Tayls,” Craig had been asking, as if it was the most everyday thing in the world, “what’s the worst way I died? Gory details!”

“Craig!”

“I mean, we’re all curious, but come on!”

“What? You know what they say, ‘if you don’t laugh, you’ll cry’-- I mean, it’s not like any of those things are actually gonna happen now. There’s nothing to be scared of!”

Taylor’s mouth hung open. Actually… would that help? It wasn’t an approach she’d even considered. But as her mind flickered back to the vision of Diego dead in her arms… the feel of the weight of his body, she knew she couldn’t do it.

“I, um, I don’t think I’m ready. To laugh about these things. When I have these dreams it’s like… they’re fresh. New and visceral and vivid every time.  I… I can’t bounce back from that and just laugh. Maybe in like… a couple of weeks? That’s if it doesn’t happen again. But it’s like I’m living it. And when I wake up… all the shock, and dread… it’s all still there.”

Everyone was quiet. Taylor didn’t blame them. How the hell could anyone know what to do with this? Estela sat down beside her and offered the glass of water.

“Thanks, babe,” Taylor murmured. Her throat was parched and sore… she supposed screaming bloody murder could do that. She took a few sips, then let herself relax into the couch, and Estela’s and Diego’s arms around her.

“I think, “ she said, “I underestimated how nervous I was about starting tomorrow. I don’t know what I’m expecting to happen, but I guess it’s ‘cause I feel like… well, a bit of a fraud.”

Zahra scoffed. “Freaking pseudo-humans think they can muscle in on our school. Man, they’re letting that place go to shit.”

Taylor looked at her, taken off guard, then slowly… she started to laugh, until she was near doubled-over. Wheezing, she sat up and wiped away a tear. “Oh my god. It’s ridiculous!”

“Honestly?” Michelle said, “I think it’s going to be surreal. ‘Normal’ is going to be hard, after….” She shuddered, and Taylor knew where her mind had wandered to… the smoldering wreckage that was a past not another soul bar the twelve of them could ever comprehend.

Quinn hugged Michelle tightly. “That’s why we need to keep doing this. Sharing the burden. If we can survive the end of the world that way… well, that’ll be how we survive the aftermath as well.”

Regaining her breath, Taylor snuggled into Diego’s shoulder. She’d been the damsel in distress tonight, but come the next, it could be any one of her friends drowning in the enormity of what they’d survived. And she’d be there, offering a shoulder, as they’d done her. Taylor closed her eyes, and focused on her breathing; slow and deep into her belly. The horrors would fade, just as long as she could keep them at bay for long enough for them to do so.  It wasn’t as if she wasn’t well-used to the challenge; it had become almost routine until she’d thought she’d mastered it. Her friends had gathered around her, offering whatever comfort they could give, and that was the best hope she could ask for.

Raj sat bolt upright, clearly struck by inspiration. Always a worry.

“Guys! Gu-u-uuys!”

Taylor snorted an affectionate little laugh. “Raj! Ra-a-aaj! What’re you thinking?”

He jumped up and began moving furniture out the way.

“This is ominous….” Zahra muttered.

“Okay, doodlejumps, everyone one the floor! Sitting in a nice, wide circle.”

“Yup. I knew I had a bad feeling…. If this isn’t ‘pass the bong’, I’m out.”

Raj was undeterred, in spite of the scepticism shown by a chunk of the group. “Now, lie down, so that your head is resting on the belly of the dude or dudette to your right.”

“Er, okay,” Diego said, angling himself so that his head would fall to Taylor’s middle, “kinda weird, but why not?”

“Is everyone in positio--”

But Craig was already laughing; being sleep-deprived and tickled by the movements of Zahra’s diaphragm, he couldn’t help it if he tried. And Quinn with her head on his belly, found herself jiggled up and down in a most giggle-inducing manner.

“There you go-- you’re doing it!”

Bouncing up and down on Estela’s firm belly, Taylor laughed, and laughed, and laughed. Which made both Estela and Diego laugh more, which made her laugh more…. And so, Raj’s laughing circle worked its magic. It was simple, and silly, but actually… it worked. She was smiling so hard her jaw ached. The genius of Raj had struck again.

She laughed until…. “Okay, okay, I c-can’t breathe! Too much laughing!”

Taylor sat up clumsily, and a rosy-cheeked Estela put an arm around her once more, still giggling herself.

A rather uncharacteristically disheveled Michelle caught her breath long enough to give Raj a look of incredulation.

“I hate the fact that I feel so much better after that.” She collapsed against Quinn’s shoulder and shook her head. “I don’t even want to know how ridiculous we all looked just then…. The things I do for you people….”

“For what it’s worth,” Taylor said, “I appreciate it. More than I can say.”

It would be over an hour before everyone at last trundled along back to bed. An hour that Taylor’s loved ones had filled with chamomile tea, a giggly session of group yoga, a massage with soothing lotions from a talented Michelle, and many, many hugs. She even managed to snag a hug from Zahra; very brief and well out of sight of anyone else, but a hug nonetheless.

Taylor sunk into the mattress with a quiet moan, and curled her body into a ball, soon to have Estela’s wrapped lovingly around it. She was tired… so tired that the weight of her eyelids was painful. But she was relaxed, more-so than should have been possible after the horrific vision she endured, and with something as momentous as her first day as a student at Hartfeld lying ahead.

“Duerme ya, dulce bien; mi capullo de nardo,” Estela sang softly as her gentle fingers stroked Taylor’s hair.

Taylor closed her eyes, knowing nothing but the feel and sound of her wife. The surest thing she could ever trust in.

“Despacito duermete, como la abeja en la flor.

Duerme ya, dulce bien;

Duerme ya, dulce amor

Dulces sueños tendrás

al oir mi canción.”

And Taylor slept soundly, cocooned in love.

_________________________

As she pulled the van up into one of several car-parks on campus, Estela was struck by how right Michelle had been about it feeling surreal to be back in this place. The only reason she’d ended up there to begin with was because she’d intended to kidnap one Aleister Rourke and hold him hostage to gain access to his father. Circumstances had… definitely changed. That she was studying now wasn’t just a means to a probably violent end; it was to equip her to live a life fulfilling and true to who she was.

Her passengers piled out of the van; usually, those without a class first-thing would more than likely take a bus in later, but today felt significant.

“How are you feeling?” Estela checked in with Taylor, noting that she looked rather like someone on the verge of vomiting.

Taylor felt rather like she was on the verge of vomiting. She was a walking jumble of nerves. The smile she gave her wife was shaky. “It’s just… weird. Other than the Lernaean Gate experience, and I’m trying to keep that out of my mind, I’ve never stepped foot in this place. But I look over there, and I know that’s the Humanities building, and the best coffee shop on campus is around that corner, and if I were to bump into another Freshman, I could probably give them accurate directions to whatever lecture hall they were searching for. I know all that, and still… it’s new.”

“It’s okay,” Estela said gently, finding Taylor’s hand and squeezing it. “All the other new students are gonna be freaking out too. You’ll blend right in.”

“Yeah… yeah, you’re right.” Taylor took a deep breath. This was nothing, nothing that she couldn’t handle. When she stepped back and looked at it logically, there was obviously no threat. All those months of building this up in her head sure had wreaked havoc on her. “What do you have up first? Was it the subject on discrimination and identities?” That sounds right.

Estela nodded. “Yep, that’s the one.” She had just the three classes on this first day; one each for Identity and Discrimination, Conflict Resolution and Peace Building, and Social Development. Having opted to change her major from Business Studies to Peace and Conflict Studies-- something that hadn’t even been an option when she began studying in San Trobida-- she was starting this school year as a Junior rather than a Senior.

She wasn’t alone-- Craig had also decided to change direction, now focusing his degree on Game Development. “Well, uh, that sounds… fun,” he said, grateful that Introduction to Computer Game Design would be his first lecture. It was something he’d wanted to try out back in his Freshman year, before he’d gotten swept up in the popularity that came with joining the football team. Now, his inner nerd wouldn’t be hidden in shame. “Anyways, I’ve got to go-- I actually don’t wanna miss this class. Weird. That’s like… never happened before.”

He shuffled off with Zahra, who rolled her eyes as she swung an arm around his shoulder.

Taylor pulled Estela into a kiss. All too brief, for they had company, and because that Identity and Discrimination lecture wouldn’t attend itself.

“You still on for coffee?” Quinn asked Taylor as the rest of the group broke off for lessons. “Grace says she’s on the way there now.”

With a tight hug goodbye, Taylor let Estela go off to her lecture, and joined Quinn in a brisk walk to the coffee shop.

As with much of the Hartfeld campus, the coffee shop felt as familiar as if Taylor had been there many times before. Rather than feeling odd, in this particular instance it added to the warm and comforting feel of the place…. It was like a hug from an old friend.

And the coffee itself….

“Actually, that’s a nice cappuccino!”

“Good enough that you’ll convince Estela to give it a go?” Grace asked, a twinkle in her eye. She knew well from experience that, as a rule, Estela found American coffee to taste-- to quote her directly-- ‘like ass’.

Taylor snickered. “I could get her to join us no problem, but I’d put money on her sticking to her flask of a superior Colombian brew.”

Whether it was a world-beating cup of coffee or not, it certainly fulfilled the job of giving Taylor the wake-up she needed. It was hard not to keep on apologising for being the cause of a disrupted night’s sleep, but she bit it back. There was no shame in not being okay. Soon enough, it would be someone else’s turn, and she sure as hell didn’t want anyone else beating themselves up the way she did. Estela had always been very quick to snap Taylor out of hypocritical thinking where guilt was concerned, and it was appreciated. So, Taylor just let herself enjoy a warm brew and the company of two of the best friends she could ask for as they pondered on this new year of college.

“Ooh!” Quinn cried suddenly. “You could try ‘Hartfeld Creates’; it’s basically a club for people who are into arts and crafts of all kinds-- well, basically, anything that you create yourself.”

That sounded all right. If she was going to ingratiate herself into the school community, starting with something Taylor already had an interest in wouldn’t hurt.

“Do they take bumbling beginner knitters like me, d’you think?”

“They do a big exhibition at the end of the school year; if I remember correctly from last time, there were definitely a few knitters showing off their work.” Quinn took another sip of her coffee, then looked up with a shy smile. “Actually,” she said, “I’d wanted to sign up, but commitments were always tough for me. I guess… there’s nothing to hold me back now.”

Grace returned the smile. “It sounds like a good excuse for me to really start diving in to fractal art. If you wanted, we could all sign up together.”

“I think I might really like that,” Taylor said, and she licked froth from her lips. Estela was missing out-- this was a good coffee. “At least I’ll know there’ll be two people who will say nice things about my lumpy knitting.”

She brought her mug upwards to chink with her two friends’.

“To new experiences!” she toasted, before hastily adding, “--of the low-key variety!” No more sea monsters for me, thank you.

Before Taylor knew it, the next of her new experiences had rolled around. She’d found her way to the lecture hall for Introductory Spanish without a sweat, as if she had a campus map pre-downloaded in her brain. It was weird, but she did turn up looking less frazzled than a few of her classmates, so it had its value. Taylor took a seat beside a mature-aged student, quietly relieved that not everyone in her first class was fresh out of high school. And, of course, being Taylor, she immediately made herself acquainted.

“Hi,” she said, offering a hand that was gratefully shaken, “I’m Taylor.”

The silver-haired woman returned a smile. “Lovely to meet you. Sue.”

“Is this your first class, too?”

“Not my first class-- I just came from a Molecular Biology lecture-- but it’s my first day, so still getting my head around how it all works. I did try college years back, but, you know… life happened. I can tell you it’s changed a lot since then!”

This was so much easier than Taylor had anticipated. Caught up in her own head, she found herself frequently falling into the trap of underestimating the qualities that had always best served her. She wasn’t just the glue that held the Catalysts together simply because she’d been created as a perfect match to their needs;  it was more than that. Taylor loved people. She was good at people. So long as she focused on her innate humanity and not the part of her that felt alien, she could find her confidence.

“So, Molecular Biology, and Introductory Spanish. That’s broad. I’m guessing you don’t have a major in mind yet? I’m the same.”

Sue chuckled. “Well, I’m not studying for anything in particular. No one strong direction. To be honest, I don’t have a great deal of interest in a career change. I work part-time from home, which suits me fine. Plenty of time for the grandkids. But I have always loved to learn. The way I see it, if I’m to broaden my horizons, I might as well cast a wide net.”

“Fair enough,” Taylor said. “There’s certainly the range here to do that. I found it a little intimidating to have so much choice. I vaguely know what direction I want to take, but really, until I give things a go….” She shrugged her shoulders. “What’s really going to grab me, I don’t know.”

“There’s something to be said for the fun being in the journey. I know I’ve always wanted a university education, and I’ve always wanted to travel. Both things are coming to fruition after more years than I care to count, but I wouldn’t trade any of the stops along the way for anything. That’s what inspired me to take Spanish-- Latin America is high on the list.”

“You should go off the beaten track and give San Trobida a try! It’s really beautiful.” Taylor suggested to an intrigued nod. “For me…. My wife’s Colombian-San Trobidan and my best friend’s Mexican by blood. I’m kinda curious about what they say to one other about me.” She smiled cheekily, had a momentary realisation of ‘oh, I’m not sure how LGBT-friendly this older stranger is’, then realised Sue hadn’t batted an eyelid, and continued. “No, we’re probably going to end up spending a lot of time in San Trobida; my wife’s only family is there.” Well, I guess that’s not even entirely true anymore. “A bit more Spanish will serve me well. Wifey’s teachings have mostly centred around curse words and romantic pet-names… neither of which are appropriate in all circumstances.”

Sue gave a short laugh. “It’s a useful language,” she said. “Widely used. And once you know a bit of Spanish, you find related languages start to make some sense as well. French is next on my list.”

And so, by the time the professor arranged his notes and set up the projector, Taylor had realised that she really needn’t have worried about a thing. She was a social butterfly; on La Huerta, or anywhere else. All she had to do was spread her wings.

_____________________

Estela’s morning had been uneventful. Her classes had basically been introductions to the respective courses; general overviews of what to expect in the coming weeks and months of study. This was just as well, because she found her mind wandering.

The previous night’s events had rattled her. So long it had been since Taylor had one of her horrific nighttime visions-- the last one had been back in San Trobida-- Estela had been caught off-guard. Once again, that helpless feeling was seemingly inescapable.

She sat down in the library and buried her head in her assigned Peace and Conflict textbook, trying to focus for long enough to string two sentences together.

It was just a freak thing because of all the build-up to starting college. Chances are, she’ll sleep like a baby tonight.

Babies sleep like shit.

Who came up with that dumbass idiom anyway? No one who ever met a goddamn baby….

Taylor had always been prone to vivid dreams; dreams that weren’t normal dreams. Actually, on La Huerta, Estela had experienced a few of those herself. But after Taylor released the part of Vaanu that resided in her, things changed. The memories gifted to her by the Endless took over all of Taylor’s dreams. Between the two of them, they’d managed to note patterns; flashes of violent scenes had-- without fail-- been in the wake of a period of stress, while a reduction of Taylor’s waking anxiety led to lighter scenes playing through her head at night. The key, they’d deducted, was to ensure she went to bed relaxed and happy. Estela couldn’t believe she’d been so stupid to think it was a phase that had passed; it had simply been a case of waiting for a significant enough stressor and --whoomp-- back to nightmare city. And once Taylor closed her eyes each night… there wasn’t a damn thing Estela could do to keep her safe from the cruelties of her own mind.

Estela glanced at the clock. It would be three-quarters-of-an-hour at least before Taylor was done with her second class. She should at least take a few notes while she waited.

Then a voice echoed out from behind one of the rows of shelves.

“.…I’m still not convinced scar-girl wasn’t somehow involved. Nine students disappear off the face of the earth and that creeper just happens to be with them? I’m not buying it.”

In an instant, Estela felt a hot blush rise to her cheeks, and her stomach drop. In all honesty, she hadn’t expected much different but… she’d hoped she could get through the first day without… without…. How could it not hurt? Pointedly, she kept looking down into her notes, though any remaining hope she might have had to actually focus on them had fled. Nine students? She didn’t even count; she was an ‘other’. As everyone had always seen her. Don’t let it get to you. Don’t let anyone see that it gets to you.

“Oh my god-- right? I can’t believe they let her back here after what happened….”

Another voice cut through, sharp and comfortingly familiar.

“I’m sorry-- are you serious?” Michelle demanded.

“...We didn’t ask you!”

“I know, I know. You’re just too busy making up poisonous gossip about a person who you’re well aware has just survived a traumatic event. Classy!”

“What the fu--”

“I’m sure the dean would be interested in hearing all about your treatment of one of the Hartfeld Ten. Someone the rest of them owe their lives to several times over. Or, you know…. The both of you could just get out of here, and while you’re at it…. Get. A. Fucking. Life.”

There was some rude and clearly embarrassed muttering aimed in Michelle’s direction, the shuffling of feet, then quiet.

Estela realised she’d been holding her breath. Everything was different now. The sting was still real, but coming up behind it was something soothing. And she wasn’t the ‘other’ any longer; not in that moment.

“Michelle….”

And Michelle came around the corner, a look of horror across her face. “Oh, shit--you heard that?”

Estela offered a shaky smile. “It’s okay; I’ve heard worse.”

“It’s not okay! It’s not remotely-- They’re just… assholes. Self-absorbed, ignorant assholes.” Michelle was shaking with fury. And Estela found herself not surprised those students scarpered quickly as they did. “You would not believe how close I came to slapping those bitches just now--”

“No, I can guess. Thank you.”

“I used to be friends with people like that. Or… I thought they were my friends. I can’t tell you how grateful I am that now I’ve got the real thing.”

Michelle pulled off her shoulder-bag and sat down in the chair beside Estela.

“Are any of them still here?” she asked. “The people you used to know.”

“’Know’ is a strong word in hindsight,” Michelle commented dryly. “But, the vast majority graduated when I was meant to, or the year after. There are a couple of girls I was in the sorority with who were Freshmen at the time. I caught a ‘you saw Michelle Nguyen’s gay now?’ ‘thank god we saved poor Sean when we did-- he deserves so much better’.” She rolled her eyes.

Estela huffed. “Ignorant assholes,” she affirmed. She looked back down at her notes. “Too bad, though. So far up their own asses they missed out on knowing the most amazing friend a person could ask for. Sucks to be them.”

There was quiet, and noting the silence, Estela raised her eyes to see Michelle looking at her with the warmest, most appreciative of smiles. Somewhat shyly-- she’d not intended to stir up deep emotions-- Estela returned it.

Michelle glanced around, checking there was no one in earshot. “I was talking with Grace earlier; bringing her up to date on everything that went down last night,” she whispered.

Estela quirked an eyebrow. “Any words of wisdom there?” she asked with a soft sigh. “Anything at all, I’ll take it. Please.”

Sympathetic, Michelle reached out and squeezed her friend’s arm. “We’re going to look after each other. That’s the best wisdom I think any of us has to offer.”

It was hard to argue with that… but it didn’t feel like enough. Not when Taylor was still being wrenched back to the darkest of places, powerless make it end.

“We wanted to float an idea with the others,” Michelle continued, sensing Estela’s helplessness. “Maybe we could get together every month, every fortnight… whatever it might be, and all of us just… talk. Like therapy, but just us, because so much of what’s been the fucking hardest we can’t tell anyone else. I dunno… maybe Quinn will bring cupcakes or something….”

“That usually reels everyone in,” Estela noted, a smile tugging at her lips. It wasn’t a bad idea. For herself, she’d looked at the idea of some kind of counselling, but it had come down to the fact that she’d only really want to do that with a therapist from San Trobida-- someone who understood where and what she’d come from. That was a tall order, even before the challenge of dodging around sensitive La Huerta business was considered. Obviously, everyone else would also need to get help in their own ways, but for some things, they had to be one another. “I think…. I think that might be a really good idea.”

_________________________

“See? You survived two whole classes!” Diego laughed, coming out of a lecture theatre beside Taylor. He’d made a point of choosing at least one best-friend-friendly elective, landing on ‘Gender, Sexuality and the Media’. If the first lecture was anything to go by, they were going to enjoy it. “All those nightmares for nothing.”

Taylor sighed dramatically. “All we’ve gotta do now is hope my brain gets with the programme. She can be tricky, that one.”

With a kind smile, Diego gently bumped shoulders with his friend. The night before had been eye-opening. Of course, Taylor had told him all about the ghastly visions she’d been haunted with, but to be present through the aftermath… it had slammed it home just what she’d been enduring. And he didn’t know she’d kept herself together as well as she did.

“Hey… it’s all gonna get better.” As Taylor met his eye, appreciative but unconvinced, explained. “The way I see it, you’re basically Stitch right now--”

“I’m gonna need you to spell this out for me,” Taylor said with a laugh.

“Ha. Trust me, it’ll all make sense. You know how Stitch had been made for only one purpose, and he felt kinda lost when all that was gone? That’s you.”

“I… guess….”

“Hear me out!”

“Always.”

“Well, when Vaanu left you, there was this big empty space left behind. And The Endless’ memories are basically you clinging to what your purpose always was-- to care for us all. It’s like Stitch; you don’t have your own memories to take up space, it’s just you and your purpose.”

Taylor stopped in her tracks. “Hang on. Is Estela my aggressive, lonely orphan Lilo?”

Diego sputtered a laugh. “I’d like to think Estela and I are both your Lilo. But what matters is that’s not going to last. All that empty space is going to fill up, day by day.”

“I… really wanna believe that.”

“I know.” He put an arm around her shoulder and squeezed. “You know what else I think? I think the more you see that we’re all okay, the less you’re going to have that protective part of your brain setting off those nightmares as alarm bells to you. And for as long as it takes for you to be okay… I’m here for you. We all are.”

Taylor looked into his earnest face and saw only genuine love and care. And it broke her heart, because she couldn’t gaze into his warm, dark eyes and not see their light going out. A hard lump rose in her throat, choking her, and she buried her face against Diego’s neck, hugging him tight.

“Thank you,” she murmured. “Really. Thanks.”

Finally pulling away from an embrace that had been so needed, Taylor and Diego hurried toward the green wooded area of campus where they’d arranged to meet Estela.

She was waiting for them by the fountain, her eyes lit with a smile at the sight of her beloved.

“Hola, mi angel!” she called out as they approached. “Te traje el almuerzo. Quieres encontrar un lugar?”

“Hahaha,” Taylor said sardonically, rolling her eyes exaggeratedly for good measure. “Yes, one lecture and I’m not fluent. Clearly university is money down the drain. Pfft.”

“Joder!”

“That, I understand.” She reached for Estela… the simple feel of her bringing her instantly home. “If we ever have an exam on curse words, you’ll have me on the trajectory for an A.”

What a relief it was to see Taylor happy, joking. Estela wrapped both her arms around her wife’s neck, and just held her. And when she finally released Taylor, it was only for her to move in once more to kiss her.

“Uh, guys? Are you going to do this after every block of classes? I might need you two to get a room.”

“Por favor! You love it. We all know you’re as invested in Taylor’s love life as you are your own.”

“Hey!” Diego exclaimed, hand to his heart as if mortally wounded. “A little rude, but true. But, I guess I can leave you lovebirds to it for a few minutes. Is it sad that I’m dying to see if they have anything new in the food court?”

And so, Estela and Taylor were left to wander a beautiful corner of the sprawling campus. Estela hooked her little finger in Taylor’s, and everything that had once made this world hostile melted to nothing. It was hard sometimes, not to feel like a round peg being forced through a square hole. Somehow, Taylor softened the world’s edges to her… and when she was near, Estela fit. Just as she was.

“Querida?” Estela looked at Taylor, and adored her. She could only hope that in her, Taylor found the same sense of belonging… the kind so strong that it defied all else.

“Mm?”

“I really love you.”

Taylor’s heart swelled. As it did every time she heard those words stated anew. Every time, it was a promise that for all the pain that still lingered, everything really would be all right.

“I really love you, too.”

[prose-for-hire]

All I want for Christmas is you

[This is a (late) part of my 12 Days of Chirstmas fics]

Pairing: Spike x fem!reader

Request: Hi! A spike request angst for the holiday collection. Where spike and the reader get into a massive fight and he says some really hurtful things. So its really awkward leading into Christmas and the reader considers leaving him. But then spike gives the reader a present on Christmas like a sorry present that changes her mind :)

Requested by: Anon

Warning: Spike and reader fight and say mean things. Swearing. Very light sex references.

A/N: I use the ambiguous phrase ‘jewellery’ rather than explaining what the object is because it’s a reader insert and some people like certain items and some people don’t like any jewellery (blame Buffy and Dawn sorry)

You and Spike loved each other, you knew this. But you and Spike also argued. All the time. You had broken up and got back together more times than you could count. It was a ‘can’t live with him, can’t live without him’ situation. And you were just going in circles.

This particular time, finds you and Spike finishing decorating the crypt. It had been fun, by all accounts. You had even got a tree. He had managed to distract you a lot, making an hour’s task lasting the entire day.

When you were loved up, it was bliss. It was fierce passion. Often languid and sensual. Even giddy and fun at times.

He hugged you from behind, closing his eyes as he inhaled, kissing the back of your head. His hands started to wander from your hips and you closed your eyes in delight. Pressed against him felt so right.

“Did you hear that?” You said, your eyes snapping open. It was bells. Little, twinkling Christmas bells. It was eerie, not cheery. You hadn’t bought any bells.

Spike groaned in frustration and looked around as if you had gone mad. You were always doing this. Driving him wild. Teasing him so.

“What in the buggering hell are you goin’ on about?”

“There’s something…” You said cryptically as you looked around, which irritated him to no end.

“It’s nothing, just- come here”

“Spike! Why don’t you listen to me?” You pouted slightly, hoping it was entice him to take you seriously, check if there was a threat. But it did the opposite.

“Oh, right, and what’s your plan then? Why don’t we scream and run away. That’s about the form of your fighting skills anyhow ain’t it?”

“Just shut up – it’s Christmas” You snapped, looking at him as if he needed to drop it. But this just irritated him, as if you were chastising him. Like he was someone you could control. Emasculate.

“Poor little y/n, making things up for a scrap of attention again” He stuck his lower lip out and tilted his head to the side, in a way that nobody would describe anything other than patronisingly, “You don’t know who you are, not without me” He added the end after a pause.

“You’re the one that followed me around for months on end before I agreed to date you!” You bit back. This is where everything tended to go south. Fast.

“Yeah? Well we’re only together after last time ‘cause I took pity on you and took you back – saw how I left you wantin’ thought we might as well. You’re attractive at least” He leaned in and took your chin, moving you to face him as he insulted you. You held back tears. He was supposed to love you, why was he always so mean?

“Fuck you, Spike!” You shouted, grabbing his wrist and moving him from touching you before adding, “You’re such a self-assured pig!”

“Yeah, you love it” He purred.

“I hate you”

“No, you don’t” He stated. Before dragging his voice out almost sing-song like but in a humourless way, “You want me. You need me” He bit his lip, moving closer and closer, making you shiver. He was trying to charm you into submission. Again.

Well, it wouldn’t work… not this time anyway.

“You’re the one that wouldn’t leave Buffy’s doorstep until I came back with you! You’re obsessive! You’re a slave to love, no - to pain, Spike!” You stated, moving away from where he had started to back you against the wall.

“Slave to you” He offered, that look in his eye. Offering to forget about it, although he had been the one that had been cruel. His look offering making up. In bed, wherever you wanted. He would even apologise if it meant you wouldn’t leave him again. But you were still mad, still angry at the way he spoke to you.

His look almost made you back down, he was hard to resist. You were addicted to each other. Even when you were fighting it could switch to sex so easily. To hot passion.

But not today.

“No. You’re not. You don’t want me. You want drama, a fight. I’m sick of it! Forget it” You shouted, continuing, “I mean it this time, Spike! We’re done!”

“Love, you don’t mean that – we’re-”

“Finished!” You ended his sentence for him, “Get out!”

“No- I’m the one with my name above the door, you don’t bloody pay the rent” He said, backing away from you as you had that look in your eye. You could be downright vindictive.

“Neither do you - it’s a crypt, you don’t pay shit!”

“You wouldn’t throw your fella out just before Christmas, would you, love?” He tried as you had walked him out of the front door, throwing his leather duster at him. He caught it in a ball and clutched it to his chest.

He sighed exaggeratedly. He really didn’t want to have to rough it somewhere, exposing himself to possible sunlight. He wanted you again. He cursed himself. Wished he had just kept his mouth shut.

But you weren’t so innocent. If he hadn’t created an argument, you would have done. It had been in the air. Building up over weeks.

“Bloody women!” He screamed at the door you had unceremoniously slammed in his face. He heard you slide the bolt across the door and he kicked it for good measure, howling in pain and hobbling away.

To add insult to injury, as he stalked through the streets trying to find a suitable crypt it had started to snow. The first bloody snow here in centuries and he had been caught up in it. It couldn’t get any worse.

Shit. Why did he have to think that? He rounded the corner and almost ran straight into the Slayer. He had been dragging his feet, kicking a stone until he looked up and saw her.

“There a reason you’re terrorising the sidewalk, Spike?”

“None of your business”

“Y/n’s kicked you out again hasn’t she?” Buffy’s face lit up as his face gave away she had guessed correctly.

She enjoyed seeing him like this. She was your best friend and she thought (no, knew) that you were too good for him. She told you all the time. But you were both too swept up in the animal attraction. In the possessive, heated entanglement you couldn’t escape if you wanted to.

“Betty the do-good…-er” Spike floundered. It wasn’t his best line. He was ridiculously sad. Mourning the loss of his relationship with you again. He craved you, he wept for you. There was a deep aching in his chest the further he walked from the crypt. The further he walked from you.

“That was tragic. You weren’t kiddin’ when you said you were bad” Buffy said, not able to hide the smile at her own joke.

“Yeah, well, just lost the love of my un-life here. Give a bloke a break” He snapped, sniffing and trying to wipe his eye on his sleeve subtly. Buffy rolled her eyes but for some reason, before she went over to the crypt to collect you and the overnight bag you had packed and re-packed more than you can count, she turned back to him.

“You know she feels the same. Maybe it’s time to let go, Spike. Or buy jewellery. I hear girls like jewellery” Buffy shrugged.

“Yeah, you wouldn’t know” He muttered, luckily she didn’t hear it or she would have spun back and staked him on site. She only hadn’t before the previous interaction because she knew you would never forgive her.

Your relationship was infuriating. And not just to you and Spike. It had a ripple effect, it was a part of your friends lives too. One day you would be shouting and screaming, the next passionately making love on the nearest surface. It was exciting and painful, like whiplash from a rollercoaster. The rollercoaster that was y/n and Spike.

It had been a few days now. You were staying at Buffy’s. She was a good friend to you. No matter how many times you and Spike yo-yo’d between love and hate she was there for you. With as little judgement as she could.

She comforted you while you cried, heartbroken despite Buffy being sure you would manage to find it in your heart to forgive him yet again. You clutched the mug of hot chocolate she had made, complete with marshmallows. She had learnt well from Joyce.

Dawn had slipped you some of her freshly baked sugar-cookies that she had made specially to cheer you up. She had decorated them with little Christmas characters which made you smile at her.

The girl adored your relationship with Spike, whether rightly or wrongly. She looked up to you, wanting to emulate a passionate relationship like that herself when she was older. It was like you were in a romance novel or something.

What you and Buffy didn’t know that since you had moved in, Dawn was Spike’s spy. She was, for the price of $5 and scary stories from his past, she told him all about what you said and how you were feeling. He now knew you were upset, missing him. Wallowing the same as he was. Well, good. But now, he had to make it up to you. He made Dawn help him brainstorm into the night.

She wanted to do it, she was sure it was for a good cause. In the name of true love, obviously.

Spike walked her back to Buffy’s where the Slayer was pacing and you were watching out for her to come home. You were going to give her the heads up that Buffy wasn’t pleased that she had gone awol. The snow had fallen thick now, anything could have happened and Buffy was scared Dawn was hurt.

You saw her then, with him. Your heart rose and your eyes glistened. You watched him trudge beside her, the white glow of the snow lighting up his face, making his cheekbones more prominent. He took a final drag of his cigarette before throwing it away, his eyes finally meeting yours through the window.

You walked to the door and unlocked it, whispering to Dawn that Buffy was gunning for her before turning back to Spike.

“Love…” He started. You just shook your head, you were still hurt.

“Goodbye, Spike” You said pointedly, closing the door on him once more. This time you turned with your back against the door, sliding down it as you started to cry. Dawn worried that it would take more than the Christmas gift they had been planning to win you back as Buffy scooped you up. She suggested that there was plenty of Christmas films you could watch, to take your mind off things. You nodded, leaning against her shoulder debating yourself whether to run after him or not. Buffy decided against any heavy romance-based films as you continued to sniff.

Eventually, Christmas Day came and it was the first that you spent without him in years. You usually made up before. You spent the entire day with a fake smile plastered on your face, not just at the slightly misjudged present from Anya (it was a vibrator, because you were on your own. You opened it in front of Dawn not realising and Buffy had to cover her eyes).

You thought about him the entire day. You ached, pined. You almost braved the thick snow, that you had almost been snowed in by, more than once before one of your friends distracted you with something.

As night fell, you gave up hoping. That was, until, there was a sharp knock at the door. His knock, you knew it. You had slammed the door in his face too many times not to know that knock. You sprinted over there, swinging the door open.

“Spike” You breathed, smiling. You had felt his absence so painfully.

“I know, I’m not stopping, wouldn’t wanna interrupt the touch-feely bollocks I’m sure is in full swing about now” He said and it made you smile, You loved the way he spoke. His accent. The way he phrased everything as if he had crafted it just for your ears.

He handed you a surprisingly well-wrapped gift as you smiled down at it, “It’s- for me? But I didn’t have time to get-”

“You know the only gift you could give me worth anything would be you” He admitted, which was how you felt for him. You didn’t need this, but you knew this was his way of apologising.

You opened the present and gasped, smiling wider. It was jewellery, just the kind you adored with a little gem that sparkled in the moonlight. You looked over at him, how could you ever have doubted him? He did his best by you, he always did. You knew who he was when you had started dating, just as he had known who you were.

“Spike, I’m sorry for how-” You started, but he shook his head, taking your hand.

“This- the way we- it’s not right, I know it” he admitted that the way things were, the bad seemed to take over the good. He lived in hope, though. He was convinced that this time it would be all love, “But I want you, I burn for you – it’s why the gem’s that colour, see? You’re the only one for me, the only one I could ever love through it all” He said it so honestly. So sincerely.

You invited him in after you whispered your own affections, much to everyone else’s chagrin. You showed them the gift and Dawn cheered, telling you she helped. You grinned at her and Spike had to convince Buffy not to stake him again. You both stayed in the living room for a moment, listening to the rest of them talking and just gazing into each other’s eyes.

Then you were kissing. His lips on yours hotly, you had missed this so bad. His lips were made for yours. He drank you in, all of you. Your flaws and your perfections.

He loved your everything. The good and the bad. And you matched his message. He felt it, deepening the kiss. Forgetting where you were for a moment. Until he heard your friends mutter insults at him.

He picked you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist. All the while, you had barely stopped for breath. You never wanted to part from him again. You were pressed close to him, willing him even closer.

His lips caught any exposed skin on your neck, your jaw as he carried you without word upstairs. You looped one arm around his neck, the other against his jaw so you could catch his lips again with heightened desire.

The others just watched you leave, trying to ignore the way you were all-but grinding against Spike in anticipation. None of them were surprised by the turn of events but they weren’t exactly pleased either.

Buffy, Xander, Willow and Giles all shared a look as you and Spike thudded against the walls as you walked along the corridors upstairs trying to find a room to slip into.

They all wondered how long it would last this time as you gave yourselves a very merry Christmas.

[wefoundloveunderthelight]

Void of Extinction by GleefullyCaptainSwan Chapter 9/9

Read on AO3: | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9

Or on FF

Stacy's Tortured Crew: @teamhook @kmomof4 @stahlop @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @itsfabianadocarmo @mariakov81 @qualitycoffeethings @zaharadessert @jrob64 @jonesfandomfanatic @natascha-ronin @tiganasummertree @xarandomdreamx @therooksshiningknight @batana54 @superchocovian @onceratheart18 @ultraluckycatnd @snowbellewells @karlyfr13s @the-darkdragonfly @xsajx @deckerstarblanche @jonesfandomfanatic @winterbaby89

Notes:

I can't believe this is the end of another story! I truly hope you enjoyed this odd little world I put them in. It was a joy to write something different and share it with all of you. I want to thank my husband for supporting me in all of this weirdness I write about and helping me with the creativity process.

Chapter 9: Merlin

Killian felt like shards of ice had punctured his chest the moment he breached the water, desperately reaching into the depths for anything he could touch. The water was dark, his eyes could barely see in front of him as he swam through the current.

Ahead of him a flash of white tumbled before him, he reached out, his fingers clutching for anything he could grab onto. He yanked the material closer to him only to find the blanket empty. He released it, diving deeper until he saw him sinking below him.

He desperately reached out, grabbing the boy, and pressing him to his chest, he waved his other arm to propel him back to the surface. As soon as he breached the water, he looked down at the infant’s ashen face, his eyes closed, his body unmoving.

He climbed onto the metal landing, the child in his arms. “You just won’t fucking give up, will you?” He looked up to see Neal standing a few feet away, a dagger digging into the side of his captor.

Emma.

He looked down at the boy in his arms, his son. Henry. He wasn’t breathing, lying almost peacefully at his side.

“Don’t move.”

Killian ignored the order, instead lying the boy on his back on the ground, rubbing his palm against the boy’s chest.

“I said don’t move.”

“Sod off.” Killian yelled.

“I’ll kill her.” He growled and he heard Emma squeal in pain, causing his hands to freeze as he looked up to see the blood on the dagger, a cut against Emma’s neck.

“You hurt her, and I swear to you Neal, I will kill you.” He said angrily.

“Save Henry.” Emma shrilled as Neal yanked her against him. She didn’t need to ask him twice, he continued his work on the boy, desperate to hear his cry again.

Killian breathed into the boy, sending all of his care and devotion for the child into his lungs.

Breathe, please breathe.

He could hear Emma’s sobs across the room, further away than they had been previously, his eyes were watching the tiny boy laying lifeless in front of him. He pressed his mouth against him once more, breathing as his heart pounded. “Please, Henry…”

A soft sputter caused his eyes to open as he looked down at the boy, his eyes suddenly open. Killian tilted the boy to his side allowing the water to flow from his mouth as the boy started to cry weakly. “Come now lad, get it all out.” The child squirmed uncomfortably in his wet clothing and Killian cradled the boy against his chest, looking up to reassure Emma only to find her gone.

Ruby came rushing into the room with David hot on her heels, covered in a dark ooze. “I don’t ever want to see what one of those things looks like from the inside ever again.” He complained. When they saw Killian they both ran forward.

“What happened? Are you ok? Is Henry….” Ruby asked without waiting for any response as she looked around. “Where’s Emma?”

Killian pressed his lips to the boy’s forehead and handed him to the woman. “Look after him. I need to go after Emma, Neal has her.” Ruby took the boy and David followed him as they both rushed toward the pier on the other side of the large opening.

“What happened to you, Mate?” He asked as David got closer and the stench of whatever remained on him reached his nose.

“Regina.” He said disgusted. “Or whatever the hell that thing was that looked like her.”

“Up there.” Killian pointed, as two figures moved in the fog. “That has to be them.”

“Be careful.” David warned as they rushed forward.

They approached the end of the dock just as he heard Emma’s angry voice. “If anything happened to my son, I swear to God Neal…” She screeched in pain.

“I said stop fucking talking, dammit why do you always have to talk.” Neal growled. Killian leapt onto the boat, landing with a dull thud. “Is that you lover boy?” He heard Neal taunt from the front of the vessel.

Killian stilled his movement, crouching behind the open door to the bridge.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are.” Neal sang.

Killian waited in his spot as the man’s footsteps approached. “How’s that bastard kid doing?” He sneered just as Killian rushed forward from his spot, colliding with Neal’s body as they crashed to the deck.

Rolling on the ground, he grabbed the man by the collar, smashing his head toward the wooden planks. Neal kicked his feet, catching Killian off guard as he was pushed toward the wall. Killian grasped for the man’s arm that held the blade, lunging forward and sinking his teeth into the skin at his wrist causing the man to release his hold on the blade and dropping it to the ground with a thud.

The man’s eyes widened, the fear of losing the upper hand overtaking him as Killian’s fist landed punch after punch against the man’s face. “Stay down.” His voice growled in a tone that he didn’t recognize as his own. The man beneath him had tried to take away everything he loved, Emma, Henry, who he was. He had tried to destroy everything simply for power.

“You’ll never win.” The man taunted. “My father will destroy you all.”

Killian stilled, grabbing him by the collar and yanking him toward him. “We’ve already won.” He smirked. “You’re over. You’re nothing.”

Killian pulled the man to his feet, yanking him toward the front of the boat to find Emma. She was tied to the mast, tears pouring from her face. “Killian.” She cried, hope seeping through her desperation.

“Isn’t this heartwarming…” Neal started beside him.

“Would you bloody shut up.” He hissed and Neal smiled.

“You really think you can just move on now? This town is doomed. The plague will spread and destroy you all.”

Killian turned and punched the man square in the jaw, sending him spiraling backward against the wooden planks. Killian turned back to Emma, untying her hands, and pulling her into his arms. “Henry?” She pleaded.

“He’s with Ruby, he’s alright.” She sighed and closed her eyes, tears still falling against her cheek.

“I thought I had lost you both.”

“Haven’t I already told you love, I’m a survivor. It appears the lad gets that from me.” She laughed against his chest, leaning heavily against him. “Come now, let’s get back to our boy.” She leaned back and looked at him, a smile on her lips.

“Our boy. I like that.”

“Aye, me too.”

She started to walk away before her eyes got wide. “Killian…”

Before he could turn he felt pain in his shoulder, turning to see the end of a dagger and Neal’s face in view. He shieled Emma, taking the brunt of Neal’s body as the man crashed into him, slamming them against the wooden mast. Killian kicked with his feet to bring him crashing to the ground as he reached behind him, yanking the blade from his skin with a haunting howl.

He brandished the weapon in front of him as Neal stood once more, dancing from one foot to the other. Suddenly there was a crash as Emma sent a crate smashing against Neal’s body and he turned with a murderous glare at the woman on the other side of the boat. Killian watched in horror as he advanced on the woman he loved, a fist catching her across the face and Killian rushed forward, the blade in his hand.

Neal was on top of Emma, his hand pulled back to strike another blow when Killian plunged the dagger into the man’s back causing him to arch into him, a scream leaving his lips. Killian pulled him backwards, away from Emma and onto the decking. His eyes were open, staring at the fog lit moon, but there was nothing beneath his pupils. Blood was dripping from the sides of his open mouth. Neal was dead.

“No! My son!” A shot rang out causing Emma and Killian to freeze in place, the ricochet of the bullet sparking just at their feet. Shadows exiting the fog approached as Mr. Gold drug a limping David beside him. “You killed my son, you stupid bastard.”

“I’m sorry…” David began as he got closer, but Killian brushed off his guilt, it was not his fault that these men were here.

“You will all pay for this. This town is doomed, all of its people will beg me to save them.” He raised his gun toward Emma and Killian stepped in front of her, his arms pulling her back behind him as he closed his eyes and waited for death to come.

A shot rang out and he clenched his fist against the fabric of Emma’s jacket, but when the pain didn’t come his eyes sprang open. Mr. Gold lay at his feet, red spreading across his back.

“You must be Emma Swan.” The man approached the boat, a gun smoldering in his grasp.

Emma stepped out from beside him, cautiously glancing in his direction. “Who are you?”

“Why dear child, I’m Merlin, I believe you summoned me, did you not?”

~*~

Emma paced the room as she waited. “It’s been hours.” She complained as Ruby looked on nervously. “Shouldn’t we have heard something by now.”

“It takes time.” Killian reassured from his seat in the corner. “We don’t even know if it’s going to work yet.”

Emma groaned in frustration and David stood to place his hand on her shoulder. “Whatever happens, she’s very proud of how you fought for this.” Emma smiled at him, an offer of reassurance that she appreciated his words, but so much was riding on this experiment.

It had only been 12 hours since Merlin arrived outside the walls of Storybrooke, saving them from Mr. Gold and bringing their group back inside to the laboratory held within the bowels of their underground headquarters. If Henry’s blood could be used to cure J2, his people would be able to use it to save Mary Margaret and Will.

If.

The word stuck in the roof of her mouth as she ran over the events in her head. They had no idea if the fact that Emma and Killian had both survived the plague, meant anything for their son’s chances at having what they needed to cure it from their world. It could be a game changer, but it was a dangerous vision.

Henry had given The Resistance something they had been seeking since they began.

Hope.

And Emma dreaded what would happen if that tiny piece of sunshine turned out to be nothing. Just a light that burned out before it could destroy the darkness.

The doors opened behind her, and Merlin stepped into the room.

“The boy is remarkable, truly a bundle of joy.”

“Did it work?”

He laughed. “It’s too early to tell. His blood does show signs of reducing the cells in the J2 variant, we won’t know more until tests can be done back in Camelot, but…” He turned toward David. “Your wife was insistent that we test it on her. As was the stubborn man that accompanies her in that room.”

Emma laughed at the mention of Will, her indeed stubborn friend.

“When will we know something?” David asked.

“In a few hours, we will retest, determine if there has been any change in their situation. You should all get some sleep; we will wake you in the morning.”

“What about Henry?” Killian asked anxiously.

“Ah the boy, yes, he was quite tired, you are free to retrieve him from our nurse.”

Emma grasped Killian’s hand and drug him past the group into the wing behind him, searching for their son. Her heart sped up as they reached his room, stopping in front before it swung open, and the nurse met them at the door. “He will probably sleep most of the night.” She offered before wrapping him in a blanket and passing him to Emma.

Her smile grew when she gazed at the sleeping boy’s face, peaceful and unaware of the events he had just experienced. They returned to their room and Emma carried him to her bed, lying him down as she snuggled in beside him, not wanting to keep him from her sight for a moment. She felt the bed move as Killian flanked the child from the other side, his hand brushing the boy’s cheek.

She looked up and met his eye, a soft smile residing on his lips. “Survivor.” He whispered and Emma felt the tears release from her eyes.

“I’m never letting either of you go, ever again.” She cried.

“Aye love, you won’t need to.” He clasped her hand in his and rest it atop the small boy’s body.

“My boys.” She said softly, watching as Killian kissed their child’s forehead and then rest his against the pillow.

~*~

Killian chased Emma through the halls, cradling his son in his arms as he rushed after her. “God’s woman, he’s not going anywhere.” He joked, but she simply continued her pace until she reached the door.

She pushed through the door, entering the room with nervous anticipation.

“Will!” She said with a smile, seeing the man sitting up in his bed, a bandage around his waist but a smile on his face.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Emmie. Have you been sleeping alright?” He teased.

“You know damn well I haven’t.” She chuckled, wrapping her arms around his neck as she attacked him on the bed. Killian felt as if he were intruding on the moment, his eyes focusing on his son instead, the soft smile of the child staring up at him.

“I’m fine, woman. You can stop inspecting me.” Will complained and Killian couldn’t hold in his laughter. “Can’t you keep her occupied?” He snorted. “I expected the two of you to be still locked in a bedroom as you…Ow.” He winced as Emma pinched his bicep.

“’Fraid there was no keeping her from you, Mate.” He winked stepping closer to run his hand against Emma’s back.

“There he is.” He said with a smile as Henry was brought closer to him. “My hero.” He reached out and Killian lay his son in the man’s arms, stepping back to watch them. “Always knew you’d be special.” Will cooed to the giggling child.

“How are you feeling?” Emma asked.

“Like I could run a marathon.” He paused. “I’m not, because that sound bloody awful, but if I wanted to, I think I could.”

“Merlin’s team is working fast to prepare all the supplies. The Resistance teams are heading out into the foglands to deliver as many crates as they can.”

“How’s it feel to be the bonafide savior of Storybrooke?”

Emma laughed. “Stop. I didn’t do anything.”

“Emmie, you risked everything for this whole town, to get the truth out. That makes you a savior to a lot of people.”

Emma chuckled nervously. “You helped too.”

“Yeah, I did, didn’t I?” Will grinned widely. “And this one.” He gestured toward him. “Well, I guess he had somethin’ to do with it.”

“Thanks, Mate.” He said sarcastically.

“I mean besides making a baby that saved mankind.” He said with a shrug.

“William.” Emma slapped teasingly at her friend.

“How’s Mum?” The man asked of the woman who had taken them all in.

“She’s already up and about, working with Merlin to organize the destruction of the wall.” Killian responded, thinking of the way that the woman had refused to rest, immediately started planning and working to gather her troops to ensure that everyone was accounted for and ready to help.

“Yeah and all while you’ve been sleeping in this bed.” Emma smirked.

“Cheeky git.” Will swore.

After the wall came down, the town nervously reunited with loved ones who had been exiled beyond the wall, mourned those who never returned, and celebrated a cure to the disease that had caused so much destruction in its wake.

Remnants of the Hive, lost boys who followed Gold beyond his demise were slowly being brought in by the Storybrooke PD, Killian and David fought tirelessly to ensure the safety of the town and its people. Merlin remained long enough to ensure that they could rebuild on their own, returning to Camelot once the new Mayor had been elected.

“Have you seen Henry’s blue shirt?” Emma asked from the other side of the apartment. “I can’t find it.”

“Aye, it’s on the bed.”

She walked into the room with a flustered look on her face. “How did I miss it; I was just in here.”

He grabbed her by the hand and pulled her into his lap. “Perhaps it’s time to take a break.”

She laughed. “You just want to make out with me.”

He bit his lip and his brow raised. “You’re not wrong, love.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, and she squirmed on his lap.

“I have to dress Henry.”

“Is the lad even awake yet?”

“Of course not, you know he sleeps like you. I need to wake him so that we can get ready to leave, otherwise we are definitely going to be late.”

“Mmm.” He grinned, brushing her hair from her neck. “While I do enjoy it when we’re late, I generally prefer the act of making you come on any occasion.” She blushed red.

“Killian.” She slapped playfully at his chest as he gripped her hips with his fingers, pulling her against him.

“Yes love?” He questioned with a smirk. “There are many ways I enjoy hearing my name fall from your lips, perhaps a tour of some of my favorites is in order.”

Her teeth nipped at his lips, a soft moan escaping her lips as she ground against his hips.

“Minx.” He teased, flipping them over on the bed as she giggled in excitement.

“Good morning Mr. and Mrs. Jones, it’s 9:30 am, pollution level 15%, you have an event at 10:30 am today.”

“Not now.” He groaned, lifting Emma’s shirt to expose the skin as her waist. “I have my own event to tend to right now.”

“We’re going to be late.”

He lifted his head, locking eyes with her. “Mrs. Jones, your body is like an expensive watch. He pushed the material at her waist further up her body, exposing her bare breast. He slid his hand against her flesh, pinching at her pert nipple. “A few twists here,” He pinched, and she moaned appreciatively. “A tweak there.” Her head fell back against the bed. “I know this body better than anything in the world, I’ll have you singing with time to spare.”

“Then why are you wasting so much of it.” She smirked.

Killian lowered his head, his hand roaming his wife’s body, worshiping between her legs until she screamed out his name, the satisfying smirk remaining on his face as he plunged himself inside of her, causing his name to fall from her lips over and over again in a way that he would never tire of.

“I told you we would be late.” She complained over an hour later as they arrived at the station.

“I’m not the one who insisted that we shower.” He grinned.

“Did we actually shower?” She teased.

“I seem to recall there was water. And a very enticing sexy vixen who was worshiping at my feet.”

“Stop that, we’re in public.” She blushed. “And he’s listening to everything you say.”

Killian stared at his son in his arms, the boy giggling and gurgling as he grasped Killian’s chin with his tiny fingers. “Aye, your mother is a marvel lad, very talented indeed, one day you’ll understand.” Killian said in a soft voice, almost singing at the young boy as the child grinned.

“Oh Lord, you’re impossible.” Emma said, rolling her eyes before she was wrapped up in strong arms as Will met her at the door.

“You’re late.”

“Blame him.” Emma thumbed toward him. “He needed a cold shower.”

“Cold and bracing.” He winked.

“I don’t believe either of you. Now get in here, it’s about to start.”

Killian followed them into the hall, nodding to David who was standing near his wife. The man smiled appreciatively as his wife was sworn in as the new mayor of Storybrooke. A large photo of Regina Mills hanging on the wall behind them.

“Our town has faced much darkness in the last few years, a time where hope was far from our sight. But we never gave up, we climbed back to the light, and now together, we face a strong and prosperous future. Regina Mills gave up her life in protection of this town, for her people, and today I am proud to continue that fight. Storybrooke stands today because of family, triumph, and love and I intend to ensure that it always will.”

The town erupted in cheers and Killian proudly stood by Emma’s side, his son in his arms, and hope in his heart.

[forasecondtherewedwon]

Queen Takes

Pairing: Beth Harmon/Benny Watts Rating: M Word Count: 1938

Summary:

With Beth home from Moscow, her friends gather to celebrate her achievement. One guest arrives late.

The colour of Kentucky feels like a trick after Moscow. Her blue home—her mother’s home—is a playhouse, not the American standard it’s masquerading as. Sure, Russia with its cold, with its blacks and browns across the walls of the hotel where she stayed and on the jackets of the old men in the park, is striving for a monopoly on drab stoicism, but Beth Harmon passed her early years in a trailer as silver as a bare tin can. You can find barrenness anywhere, even inside a person.

Across the coffee table, Jolene looks back at Beth like she knows what she’s thinking, those morbid thoughts. Beth can hear the smooth crack of her friend’s voice in her head. It’s… comforting, the sense that someone can simultaneously have no time and all the time in the world for her. Jolene’s eyes don’t tell her she’s a fool for taking so long to recognize love or a genius for refusing the draw (plus everything before and after)—they just say, nice dress. Subtly, Beth raises her Coke and inclines it towards her friend. Thanks.

Matt and Mike are keeping her living room balanced, one twin on either couch. Harry’s moving his hands with precision and intensity as he reiterates the brilliance of Beth’s endgame over Borgov, though Jolene is laughing at him, laughing in airy howls, because she has no interest in chess. Unlike Alma/Mrs. Wheatley/Mother, Jolene does not possess the patience to sit and listen while Beth unravels her win, move by move. How different is a friend from a sister, a sister from a mother, a mother from another mother again. This is fine. Beth, smiling, admires her guests and accepts that she has quite enough chess-lovers in her life.

There’s a knock at the door.

Jolene’s laugh cuts off like there should be a blade dangling in midair.

“Well,” she says to Beth, “go get him.”

“He’s worse than any of these three,” Beth warns with a smile, stalling and hopefully concealing the waver in her words, hands, and heartbeat.

“I’m anticipating a sanctimonious pain in the ass, and that’s just from the articles I read about you playing him.”

“You could’ve met him in New York,” Mike says as Beth gets a grip on herself and the couch, pushing up and striding with sudden purpose to the front door.

“Fight New York City traffic in my nice car? Just to sit in some dirty concrete basement? All of you talking nothing but chess?” She huffs a laugh from her nose. “Even when I was an orphan, I had better things to do than that.”

Beth’s heart is doing something painful and distracting in her chest and she misses any rejoinder the boys might have made, though she wouldn’t advise one. Very few people are so much their own person as Jolene is. Very few. Her hand is clammy on the knob as she takes hold and swings the door open. He doesn’t speak, and yet she hears, again, his voice down the long, long line, reaching her in her hotel room the night before the final. He doesn’t even smile.

“Benny,” Beth breathes, and collapses into him when he greets her with a startling kiss that captures the remainder of her oxygen. Her eyebrows raise when he pulls back. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

His gaze dips down to her dress and back to her face. Now, he smiles.

“I guess I’m playing white.”

She narrows her eyes.

“What happened to determining sides with an impartial method?”

“Don’t have any pieces on me to hide in my hands. You wouldn’t happen to have a board in the house, would you?”

Beth smiles again and holds the door wide to let Benny enter her home. She sees his car tucked against the curb out front. Likely, it contains his hat. His head is uncovered.

“And that was fair, by the way,” he whispers as she walks him into the living room. “When have you known me to skip a chance at making the first move?”

With the addition to the party, there are fresh drinks to be poured, trips to the bathroom to be taken, and things are shuffled around some until Jolene joins Beth on one couch, the twins and Benny opposite. He’s slung his leather jacket over the back of the couch and elects to sit forward. With his elbows braced on his thighs in this way and fingers intertwined in the space between, he could be contemplating one of their many games. But it’s her he looks at—staring straight across with a steadiness she can’t match in front of the others.

Jolene and Benny swap remarks, her judgements a strange and wonderful counter for the way he has always spoken in foregone conclusions. She calls him by his full name every time, just the way she told Beth she read it. As the afternoon stretches and Jolene’s career ambitions take their place in the conversation, Benny begins to call her ‘Esquire’. Beth looks on warily. Jolene breaks into a slow smile and nods her permission with a proud bob of her chin.

They bring out the cake she’s been pretending not to know about. Once, on a plane, she told her mother that a Houston tournament would take first place in her life’s Christmases; well, this feels like the best birthday she’s ever had and she doesn’t even have to age for it. Beth only cries at moments of excruciating frustration or when she is ambushed by emotion, no escape route of three moves prepared, so, naturally, the tears spill over.

“You. You did this,” Jolene insists, firm hold on her shoulders as she rocks Beth side to side on the couch.

Beth can only sniffle and smile down at the cake, chocolate, as Benny wields a knife (from a drawer in the kitchen) to slice uneven pieces. It’s heavenly. Despite high hopes of leftovers and sending each guest home with a slice, the six of them devour the cake. Harry chases the last crumbs around his plate, Matt groans and kicks his feet up on the table in search of relief for his overstuffed stomach, and Beth lies on the floor, raking her fork lazily through the icing before raising it to her lips and licking the tines clean. It’s only the pleasure of the day she means to extend with this exercise, but she can feel Benny’s eyes on her. Black makes its opening move.

She hugs each of her friends at the door as they drag themselves away. The alternative is to risk passing out across her chic living room set, and she hasn’t offered to let them stay. If any of them asked, she certainly would, but no one is at a loss for where they’ll be spending the night and they’re all—Beth knows—too aware of the car parked out front with the New York plates to want to intrude.

“You’re a queen,” Jolene says. She’s the final person to fold her into a hug. “You deserve this and more. And I bet,” she adds, dropping her voice so it’s just for Beth, not Benny, standing at the picture window and watching the boys drive away, “tonight’s going to feel even better than when you wiped Ohio with his skinny ass. Or whatever the hell happened between the two of you since then.”

Beth draws back, hands still on her friend’s waist, and gives her a look.

“Please,” Jolene begs, “it’s obvious. You’re World Champion and I am staring at the only thing Benny Watts wants to win.” She leans in with a conspiratorial smile. “This and more, Cocksucker.”

Laughing out loud, they break apart. Beth’s flushed as she waves from the doorway, arm making a wide sweep over her head, tears of gratitude welling up as her friend peels away. She dabs beneath her eyes with her fingers. She shuts the door. She flicks her eyes to Benny as she sidles around the little bit of wall separating the living room from the front room, dominated by her mother’s piano.

“I threw up in that one,” Beth volunteers, pointing out a silver cup trophy to Benny as he turns from the window. He shoots her a critical look.

“And the papers all say you’re so glamorous.”

“Everyone’s different in their own home.”

Benny gives a sideways nod to concede this.

“You’re different, I think,” she ventures. She’s less sure now, skirting the piano to come closer to him. “Like you might actually sit down.”

“I sit down,” he protests.

“For something other than a journalist.”

“I sat on your couch for hours.”

“Like you might actually stay.”

Him not entertaining her with flimsy attempts to leave, to find a hotel for the night, was his move. This boldness is Beth’s. Will he laugh at her? He could. She wonders if Harry ever mentioned to Benny that he did a stint as her roommate.

“Are you going to pull something inflatable out of someplace and condemn me to blowing it up?”

She laughs under her breath.

“No. You’re welcome to come upstairs.”

There are dishes, a light left on in the kitchen, but this mess is unlike what she did to the space herself while drunk. This scene is simply lived-in. Beth ignores the dishes and the light, eyes locked on Benny. It isn’t ‘now or never’ with him like it was with Harry—with Benny, it’s then and again. He brushes by her at the piano, the way he would in his New York apartment before they began sleeping together; the more he made sure not to touch her, the smaller the space felt. The near-collisions alone nearly drove her mad, she didn’t need chess for that. But when he’s almost past her, his fingertips connect with her skin and trickle down her arm to take her hand. Beth exhales with a smile. His middlegame remains the least predictable stage of his play.

Though she’s made the master bedroom her own, she turns the other way at the top of the stairs, right instead of left, wanting to show him where she studied and learned. He lets himself be pushed back onto her flowered bedspread. She indicates the torn mesh canopy overhead as she staggers forward on her knees to sit astride him and he hikes the black dress up her thighs. As he reaches for her back and unzips her—Beth tilting accommodatingly towards his chest—she talks ceiling visualization. How she found it, how she mastered it, how she got it back in Moscow. She waits for Benny to parrot her annoyance over discussing chess at a time like this, but he wears an empathetic smirk. Following leisurely minutes of undressing each other—“Slow down, Harmon, this isn’t speed chess”—that smirk is just about all he wears.

His necklaces glide across her chest as he kisses her neck. When he slips his hand between her legs, she invokes touch-move, insisting he finish what he’s started. Play progresses from there. This is all mine, she thinks, feeling Benny, denting a pink pillowcase with her clutching hands.

They’ve written her up as someone who attacks early and with ferocity. She lunges and thrusts, she likes control. ‘Out for blood,’ ‘killer instinct’—they make her something more than human. In her time, she’s been a talent, a prodigy, a virtuoso, a wunderkind. All of that’s become a bit mechanical. Have they forgotten, or have they never understood? Beth swipes her fingers through Benny’s hair as they catch their breath.

Chess can also be beautiful.