#most of it sounds like she was escaping a bad home life not that she was striking out on her own to follow her dreams or whatever

[asexual-levia-tan]

i swear i watched the trailer before starting paranichi but i went back to the listing for reasons and decided to watch it again and literally

im a what

idk about noah’s route but in caleb’s you dont get even a hint about this for a long time

[dcxdpdabbles]

Phantom's number 1 Fan. Part 2

Tim wakes a few days later, half submerged in liquid and hooked to various machines. He is in a tub shaped like a bed, obviously meant to sleep in. Around him is what he hopes is a hospital room with medical tools scattered about and soft blue paint that turns to the night sky the higher it goes on the wall.

On the ceiling are paintings of various constellations. It's rather beautiful.

Tim also notices he feels no pain. None. Not even the aches of his bones after years of abuse while fighting crime. He thinks that's a bit strange since the last thing he could clearly remember was barely escaping Ra's al Ghul, losing his spleen, and gaining more wounds from angry assassins on his way out.

He had been flying half-blind, blinking in and out of awareness. He thinks at one point, Cassie had attempted to call him, and he may have answered, but for the life of him, he couldn't remember what he told her.

He did remember what she said in response. She sounded so desperate as she begged over the S-Batplane speakers. "Please, Tim, you're not well. Let us help you. Just tell me where you are."

Too bad for her, since the S in S-Batplane stand for Secert because Tim had built that one on his own in Secert. There was no way she or any of the hero community could track him in it since they had no idea it existed until Tim had taken it and his supplies on his solo mission to save Bruce.

Tim will admit that he is happy they noticed he went missing- even if it was three months too late. Not that it mattered much. The rest of the Bats wanted nothing to do with him. The world only saw him as a young easy wallet as a shiny new CEO. And his friends were all dead or convinced he was insane by Dick.

Tim didn't have anyone to notice he was gone anymore. But Bruce needed him to push through the ache and get him home.

As the Robin who Bruce trained to put the mission first no matter the cost, the one that came after Jason's death so, Bruce stopped allowing himself to think of Robin as a son and more along the lines of a soldier; he quickly shut down the crying child that wailed for someone to believe him, to support him.

Sometimes it felt like Tim was still waiting by the door of Drake Manor, waiting for someone to come and care for him, to stay for him.

The door to his room opens, snapping Tim back to the present. He automatically stiffens, expecting more of the League of Assassins. He can't remember much, but he guessed he was captured by the fact he was sitting in a green glowing water.

He was not, however, expecting a Yeti to walk in, reading a clipboard.

The Yeti looks up, bearing its teeth at Tim when he notices him awake. It takes a moment to realize the action is supposed to be a smile. "Great One's Honored Guest, I am so glad you have awakened. I am FrostBite, your doctor for the remainder of your recovery."

Okay. Ra's has Yetis at his disposal.

He was the only person that Tim knew as the "Great One." Usually, his most loyal operatives too, which means he was deep within Ra's territory.

FrostBrite pauses for a response, but when Tim remains silent, he holds up his board. "It seems to me that most of your wounds have healed. The only problem is that your spleen could not be salvaged due to the damage."

Tim fights to keep the despair off his face. He figured that was the case, seeing as Ras's had it in a jar, but he had hoped.

"...I understand this may be a difficult adjustment. You will always have to be careful when being ill. Even a simple cold could be disastrous." Frostbite steps close, taping one giant claw on the tub's edge. "The Great One has ordered we keep consistent Ecoplasm Baths at the ready for the remainder of your natural life."

Fuck. The Yeti is saying Ra will never let him leave again. It's a threat disguised as a offer of help.

Tim glares down at his hands. They lay within Lazarus' water, gently healing his small scars. This must be some of the purest Lazarus he's ever seen. It must be Ra's own special blend.

The only reason he is wasting it on Tim is that Ra's wants an heir from him. Or for him to become the Heir. He doesn't know, which makes him feel worse but he does know what lust looks like.

It's one that Ra's has aimed at him for too long.

He may as well get this over with. Learn as much as he can. Plan an escape. The best way to do all that is to simply ask.

"When is the wedding?"

Frostbite freezes. "I beg your pardon? Whos wedding?"

"Th Great One and mine" because the madman would never allow a bastard to inherit his empire.

"You and the Great One....are paramours?" Frostbite sounds awe. Shoot his medic doesn't know anything. The Yeti is likely low ranking.

Tim looks away, and the giant white creature jerks into action. "I apologize for not treating the Great One's beloved properly. I shall have servants bring up a meal while you soak. And the finest robe we have! Sweets and messages....offers of gold?....humans always like gold."

He waits until the Yeti leaves, mumbles of giving him the royal treatment echoing in his wake. Tim sighs, sinking into the water. He knows he is being watched as that's what he would do, so for now he needs to stay put and heal.

He's never going to get Bruce back if he acts too rashly without knowing where he is and what else Ra has under his control. Yetis were no easy feat to beat on his own. He like to avoid....a vampire or something too.

Half an hour later, FrostBite returns with the promised meal and change of clothes. Smaller Yetis help him dress in threads of the finest silks. They feel like heaven on his sensitive skin. Tim feels soft and warm all over, pampered beyond belief.

It's been so long since he just had a moment to rest.

He asks for a walk which he is only permitted after Frostbites clears him. It's while he is wandering that he realizes he is in some winter castle. Everywhere he looks, there is ice, snow, and yetis.

He notices all the guards and makes mental maps of possible weak spots. He wonders why he's not freezing despite only being in a thin silk robe. A form of magic?

A few yetis- servants he can tell by their mannerisms- bow as he wanders about. He can't tell where he is based on the sun or the environment. It's....somehow different.

"That's him?" A young female voice asks. He turns his head slightly to catch the speaker in his provisional vision. It's one of the smaller Yetis....he assumes she's a child? Hard to tell when she still towers over him. "The Great One's future spouse?"

"Yes, I heard King Frostbite, himself, tell the Head Butler"

"He's weak," another Yeti says with disapproval. He sounds male but young as well. Not even a teenager. "He does not even have a core."

"He is a human." A much older voice replies. She sounds like Tim's age based on vocal cords. "Humans are not meant to have cores. Despite this he is a formidable fighter. He has to be to have attracted the Great One's eye."

"Maybe not. I heard humans enjoy being cared for like children. They even call partners things like Mommy and Daddy."

"Why?" The boy Yeti sounds horrified.

"Apparently it's seen as attractive"

"That's disgusting."

Tim turns a corner cutting off the conversation as the Yetis snap to attention. They bow low at the waist as he walks by.

He nods at them, which seems to startle a lot of them. Not that he's surprised. The AL Ghuls likely treated them like decorations and never fully acknowledged them.

Tim barely hears the young boy gasp. "He's beautiful."

"That's likely why the Great One is so bestowed."

Tim sighs walking back to his room with a escape plan half formed.

Elsewhere, the rumor mill in the Ghost Zone is running over time as news of King Phantom's human husband-to-be is spread far and wide. Leaders of the Ghost Zone quickly prepare for a ball that will likely be called to celebrate the union.

They have gifts gathered, each wanting to gain favor with the King. The Far Frozen gets overwhelming requests to visit the future Consort, but seeing as King Phantom had to return to the human world, thus leaving his fiancé in their care, they reject all. They do not want the boy to be overwhelmed or caught unawares if he is not tried in any form of politics.

It would not allow him to become a threat to the King's authority's pawn.

This led to even more rumors starting.

By the time they reached John Constine- the only human who has any form of contact with the Realms- the word is that King Phantom's human was currently carrying their child, wanting to marry before the baby was born, and that he was running from a group of humans known as "The Bats."

He was as beautiful as the King Phantom was powerful- which meant he was utterly breathtaking for a human- and that King Phantom was currently in the human world hunting down those who threaten his family.

Across the dimension plane, Danny is blissfully unaware of the misunderstanding as he is busy filling out college scholarship applications. He has only one more year before he graduates, but he would like to go somewhere away from Amity Park.

The Wayne Scholarship is a long and lengthy process, but it will be worth it. A full ride with board and meals? Yes, the housing will be in Gotham but it's a small price to pay.

He wonders if his number one fan has awakened. Frostbite would have contacted him if his guest had escaped the coma.

Tim Drake had been asleep for nearly a week, only kept healthy due to Danny bathing him in his Protective Core ectoplasm and the Yeti's multi-species medical knowledge. As it were, Tim appeared to only be taking a small nap, none of the adverse effects of long slumber appearing on his thin body, but Danny was getting worried.

At this point, he didn't even care how Tim knew his secret. He just wanted him to be alright.

A flash of green light causes Danny to spring away from his laptop, body falling into a natural fighter's stance only to blink at the giant gift wrap present laying on his bed. Cautiously he inspects the gift finding it from Princess Dora.

"May your love lead the Realms into a wonderous future, and may your union bear many children." He reads the small note she had attracted to her gift "What children?"

Pulling open the gift, he stares at two sets of King robes decorated with rubies shaped into snowflakes. More miniature robes and a few booties surround the pair, obviously meant as a family gift.

Tuck to the side of the box is a long and deadly-looking sword. It's pitch black, with a scull as a handle. Dora had tired a scroll to its blade, where she had written My armies are ready to yield to you. You need only to swing this sword, and they shall come to your aid. The Bats will not harm your treasure.

What in the world?

[shibaraki]

A FISH OUT OF WATER ┊ MIYA ATSUMU

synopsis: you are his constant in a life shaped by an ever changing element. he wants you. but you are the most oblivious creature he has ever met.

tags: GN reader, merfolk au, merman atsumu, human reader, childhood friends to lovers, fluff, falling in love, courting behaviours, obliviousness, cultural differences, first kisses, getting together

wc: 3.5K

↱ written for the mermay collab hosted by the teahouse server ↲

As a child Atsumu never understood other finfolks fascination with humans, good or bad. Ma was never reluctant to explain, rather, he just didn’t care to ask. There were far more important things to do in the reef. Like hunting shelled crabs, riding the currents, and eating oysters so he could spit pearls at his brother's head until he gave chase.

But three moons before his twelfth birthday, he found you.

Suspended in the water, bubbles dwindling around your frame as the fight bled from your muscles. You sank into a lifeless repose. A human. Small, smaller than him. Thoughts whirring to a stop, his mind blanked, and his tail propelled him forward in a blink.

You were light in his arms at first. Breaching the surface had been the scary part. Worse then, as he needed to drag you up onto the shore where he could be seen. The section of beach close by was secluded. Shielded by large rocks, tide pools formed in the crevices. Atsumu deposited you onto the sand, hissing at the tides that crawled behind and splashed at your chin as if to scold them.

You convulsed and curled in onto yourself like the tiny dumbo octopus that lived in the crevasse near his home. Water spurted from your nose and mouth. It gathered in the corners of your eyes and rolled down your cheeks. Atsumu stared as you wailed and felt his own tumultuous emotions swell dramatically. Restless under his skin was the urge to calm you. To comfort you. But he had never been any good at that kind of thing.

So he reached out to pat your leg. It was covered in clumps of sand. Your shorts and shirt were drenched, and one of your feet had lost a flip flop. Then he repeated what Ma always told him, “Don’t worry, guppy. I’m here”.

That distracted you enough that your attention fell on him. Your immediate petrified screech reverberated harshly in his sensitive ears, both pressed flat to his head as he hissed and squirmed further back into the ocean to escape the sound.

“A—A monster! Get away!”

An odd sense of vulnerability washed over him. Embarrassment, shame, anger. At that moment, Atsumu decided all his assumptions must have been correct. You were clearly a few fish short of a shoal. “M’not a monster,” he’d shouted back, fins flared irritably. “Be grateful I saved yer life, Ugly! Ugly, ugly, ugly!”

Your face scrunched up at the insults, covered in salt water, tears and bile. A dull ache struck against his skull, hard and sudden. You had kicked him in the head and ran away.

Osamu laughed at the mark upon his return. Atsumu endured, kept his mouth shut and resolved never to go back to the surface. Ever! But curiosity still drew him back the next morning. And the next. Every day he checked, you were there, standing awkwardly on the beach and squinting at the horizon. Searching.

Ma’s voice echoed through his thoughts while he hid from view. Atsumu was great at lots of things. Loads better than Osamu. Racing, hunting, splitting shells, tying knots, playing ball. Not so great at making friends. Try to meet ‘em where they’re at, she said. Smile. Be nice. Find what they like and ask about it.

When he finally plucked the courage to make his presence known you’d been back in the tide pools. The ends of your shirt pulled out to hold all the shells you were collecting, heavily weighing on the wet fabric. A few tumbled down as you crouched to pick up a limpet, mouth curling into a pleased grin. Limpets are boring, he thought. And an idea struck.

Diving lower, Atsumu combed through the sand and seaweed until he spotted an iridescent spiral of orange and purple. The snail went helplessly as he clasped it between his webbed fingers, shooting for the rocks. You were still there, filling the silence with a directionless hum.

Atsumu broke the surface quietly. Enough distance between that you could not kick him again. “Hey!” he called, hands thrusted out toward you, head already turned toward his shoulder to brace for another scream. “Got a snail. Wanna see?”

Nothing came. He hadn’t realised how much your acceptance meant to him until then—when you crouched excitedly close by, unheeding of the tide soaking you further, and gasped as he presented the gift. Relief burst in his chest, warm and tingly to the tips of his fins at the careful prodding of your fingers to the creature in his palms; so intense that a wave of luminescence washed through his scales.

“I was looking for you,” you later admitted, voice softened in apology. “Thank you for saving me. I’m sorry I kicked you and called you mean things”.

Atsumu detailed the slight pout to your lips. Knees shifting in the sand. Eyes wide, gleaming hopefully as you waited for his reply. Something fluttered in his stomach the longer you looked at him. Horrified, the longer he looked back, the more it dawned on him that you were not ugly at all.

“Good. So y’should be,” he grumbled, smacking his tail up onto the shore. Heat blotched across his cheeks when you glanced at it in awe. Timid, he added, “…S’fine though. Didn’t hurt”.

Smiling gleefully at that as his gaze darted back and forth, you held out your pinky and promised to always be his friend.

Time elapsed. Seasons passed. No longer a juvenile, his colours started to come into full bloom. Rich gold around his hips and waist, tapering into black toward his large ruffled tail fin. Even his hair lightened as he took to adulthood. After his twentieth birthday the months seemed to come and go faster than he liked. You were his one constant in a life shaped by an ever changing element. Atsumu’s blatant affection for you remained his worst kept secret but none of the finfolk scorned him for it.

Osamu’s steadfast teasing was the only downside. Offhanded or feigning disinterest, he’d always ask, “What d’you keep doing up there?”

Atsumu bounced a hard clam off his brother’s thick skull, “Nothin’. Told’ya a million times, I just like the surface”.

“Uh-huh. Does the ‘surface’ in question happen ta’ have a name and a pulse?”

“You’ll soon have neither if you don’t shut yer trap, ‘Samu!”

Summer comes along and once again, Atsumu decides to remain in the reef. There’s a new den for him in the alcove, carved out from the outcropping of rock with his own hands, right next to a dense forest of kelp. The afternoon sun filters through it in rays as the currents shift, dewy light dancing on the walls.

Two years he has been eligible to migrate and find a mate. This will make it his second absence from the celebrations. Ma never pushed him despite the worry written plain on her face. Osamu only pinned him with a knowing look as he went. It will be the longest they’ve been apart from one another and he doesn’t like it.

Realistically he still could have attended—should have, maybe, lest the other pods find his refusal disrespectful. But Astumu had no compulsion to go. The very idea of leaving you threw his instincts into high gear and he needed to race the currents just to calm the urgency wracking his bones. Because somewhere amidst the years spent with you he became aware of the voice clamoring in the back of his head. One that had been growing in intensity for some time, but hadn't been quite as loud as it was until the elders advised him to take a partner.

You were his mate.

Atsumu had been subconsciously courting you since you were children. Bringing you food and gifts, letting his display scales flash lurid in your presence. He kept guard as you slept on the sand, picked the seaweed and dirt from your hair, swam in synchrony with you when the tides were calm, wrapping your legs around his tail until you become a knot of a person. In hindsight, it was embarrassingly obvious—

Yet you are still blissfully oblivious to it, and that nags at him like nothing else.

Raking claw tipped fingers through his hair, Atsumu paces the length of his den with thoughts of how to be more deliberate in his courtship. Human relationships were complex—purposefully difficult, in some cases. You might respond better if he simply confessed what his intentions were.

You’ve promised to come by the cove as soon as you’re free today. Adulthood came with plenty of changes for you as well as him. You have to work more than he likes. It means less time together; hours spent with other people, any of which could stake their own claim and take you from his reach.

Agitated, Atsumu darts to the surface the instant the sky settles into evening. The sun spreads a blush across the ocean’s surface, tepid but pleasant when it kisses his cheeks. Your distant figure is climbing over the rock formations with careful movements. At first he lingers in the deeper water, submerged below the nose to watch like he used to all those years ago.

“‘Tsumu!” arms high in the air, you wave and bounce on the balls of your feet when you spot him. Lazily, he rides the small wave that floods onto the shelf you are standing on, arms folding on the craggy surface to keep his upper half above water.

There’s a bag over your shoulder. It drops low with the weight it carries. “Look what the tide dragged in,” you let the bag drop, contents half spilling out across the floor. Familiar things. Suncream, bottled water, a change of clothes. Your foot comes to rest atop the worn volleyball as it rolls toward the edge, flinching when he splashes at you in retaliation. “You’re here earlier than usual. Did’ya miss me?”

Atsumu bobs, eyes rolling. “Was too busy making up my new den to think twice about’cha, sunshine,” he cracks a grin. You bat at the hand that threatens to circle around your ankle as you lower yourself to sit on the shelf’s edge, legs swinging over the depths.

“All grown up and living on your own now,” you pat his head in what is intended to be condescension but only ends up conveying fondness for him as your fingernails scratch gently at his scalp. “Proud of you”.

“Stupid,” he mumbles, tipping into the touch without shame as he bobs in the water. Peeking up at you through the hair drying unruly over his eyes his heart sits prominent at the back of his throat. You’re in your swimsuit under your clothes again, he notices. “Ya gonna get in with me today?”

“Planned on it,” you replied coyly. Atsumu inhales deeply. Gills flutter. He feels his fins flare around his hips and smothers the need to hide himself, nudging his cheek to your bare thigh. A beat passes and your smile dims somewhat, “I’m sorry I’ve been so busy lately, ‘Tsumu”.

He rumbles his disapproval. Turning to nose at the skin there, Atsumu loosens his jaw and gently pincers your flesh between his teeth. Just enough to serve as a warning. The muscle and sinew remains relaxed despite it all, entirely sure he wouldn’t hurt you.

A heavy warmth drapes over his being at the heat, blood and beating heart echoing through your veins. “Gross,” you say without malice, flicking his temple at the lave of his tongue over your nonexistent wound.

“Ugly,” he returns, affectionate cadence unrestrained. You temper a smirk, kicking water his way as you tug your t-shirt over your head. Atsumu sinks into the sea’s cool embrace while you undress. Years ago you would have shied away from his blatant staring.

You’re welcoming to the arms that circle your waist as you turn to lower your body into the water. Atsumu doesn’t need to hold you up anymore, not like when you were young and easily drawn into the stronger currents, but he does so regardless. It earns him a soft huff, and a weak protest that is patently for show, but you let him.

A pleased sound vibrates in his throat before he can bite it back. You’re truly the softest thing he has ever laid hands on. Your fingers trail along his biceps, tracing the scales decorating his shoulders. Bioluminescence pulses through them with a shudder and you laugh at him, though not unkindly, “You’re lookin’ a lot brighter lately”.

Your ignorance is a blessing sometimes. Hiding his face in your hair his tail undulates and pushes your entwined bodies back toward the reef. Pride swells as your thighs cinch around his hips. The tides break around you, paving a pathway of foam from the shore to the corals. Below are vibrant formations, each unique and intricate, shelter for shoals of fish darting from the shadows stretching across on the seabed.

“Hey… can I ask you something?”

“Just did,” Atsumu snarks reflexively. You tighten your hold around his neck, leaning back to glare at him. You are about as intimidating as a sea bunny. He hums, “Alright, I’ll bite. What is it?”

Something flits across your features. Hesitance, maybe. Then your anxieties are spilling out into the open, “Why’d you split off from your group? Are they mad at you or something? If it’s because of me—”

Words stutter into a pitched plea for mercy when he pointedly tucks his chin to suck a mouthful of water into his cheeks. You flinch preemptively, throwing your hands up to your face. Atsumu holds a moment longer, pursing his lips as if readying to fire. You push at his chest in a fit of nervous laughter, “Okay, okay! I get it, it’s not my fault—don’t spray me!”

He doesn’t spit it at you. The seawater falls from his lips, trickles over his chin and returns to the tide. “Yer ability to overthink never fails to amaze me,” your breathing hitches as he brings your foreheads together. The flustered look you cast him makes him squeeze tighter, unwilling to let go. “They’ve gone to the mating grounds, that’s all. Figured it was as good’a time as any to find my own territory”.

You pause, a crease forming between your brows. “The mating grounds? You’ve never mentioned that before”.

Atsumu shrugs. The movement ripples out around you in broad rings. “Never needed to,” he says. “Wasn't important. M’here, aren’t I?”

“Why?” the pressure from your thighs lessens, just a fraction, but he’s already scrambling to cup the back of your knees and keep them there. You freeze. Scrutinising any minute change to his expression, eyes bright and flickering. Atsumu avoids your gaze with his inner cheek between his teeth. Slow, a smirk pulls at your lips. “Don’t tell me you’ve got no suitors”.

Atsumu chitters, displeased. You shouldn’t find the idea amusing. He wants you to hate it. Sulking, he says, “Glad ya think that’s funny”.

Your face falls, then. And you are seeking the strong grip he had on you before, clutching at his shoulders. Your hands slide carefully up the column of his neck, featherlight over his gills. A shiver breaks out across his skin as you take his face into your hands. “Hey, no. I didn’t mean—” you stop to sound a frustrated groan. “I didn’t mean it like that, ‘Tsumu. I just—I thought you were joking. Why wouldn’t a mer like you have everybody vying for your attention?”

His mouth shapes around a small ‘o’. Then it draws wide, crooked and teasing. “A mer like me, eh?” he echoes, slipping back from your grasp to circle you in the water as a thrilling static buzzed under his skin. Need grips him and hems his scales, saturating them with rich gold hues. “Like what?”

“Stop fishing for compliments, loser. You know,” you struggle to tread water and spin to track his circular motions, pushing a vindictive wave of water at him. “You’re the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen”.

The glow from his display is bleeding into the blue-green waters and attracting the attention of the reef dwellers but he’s too pleased to be mortified. He halts his stalking, crowding into your arms, “Y’think I’m—?!”

Your fingers thread into his hair. With all your might you dunk him under, cutting his sentence short as a wave rushes to fill the space in his open mouth. He laughs through the descent of your body, the force having pushed him low enough that he is facing your bare stomach. Remaining there, even as you relinquish your grip.

Other finfolk never really commented on his colouring. They hadn’t attempted to initiate courtship, either, not with his priorities elsewhere. You have praised his scales before but this feels different. In the context of being wanted—desired as a partner. Maybe it’s just pretty words. But you would not have submerged him in a fit of embarrassment if there weren’t some truth in it.

Fins vibrating eagerly, small trails of bubbles rise to the surface. You're patting at his arms now, worried why he won’t come up, expression distorted by the water. He sinks forward, face pressing up against your midriff. Your abdomen immediately clenches. Nails dig into the curve of his shoulder as he mouths at your sternum. Arms rise to wrap around your waist and your knees flank his ribs, squeezing tight.

A mer’s senses are that much sharper here. He feels your stuttered breath, hears your heartbeat quicken, smells the beginnings of arousal. It tastes like victory, overwhelming all rational thought. Head to tailfin his instincts are begging to drag you to his den and fuck you to sleep.

But he can’t. Not yet, and not the way he wants to.

Pushing into a soft, resting stomach, Atsumu takes a breath, shakes himself from his reverie and blows hard against the skin. You immediately convulse, trying to squirm out of his grasp. Overhead, your sweet laughter; muffled by the white noise around him but just as euphonious.

You’re panting when he finally resurfaces, your head tilted to keep your chin above water. The tide must be coming in. He supports you against his chest, making you a few inches taller. “You dickhead. Fishbrains,” you chide breathlessly, betrayed by the fond look in your eye. “Shit. Don’t do that again”.

“Mean. What happened to gorgeous?” Atsumu’s pout trembles, struggling to keep his amusement at bay.

“I'll take it back!”

“No take backsies,” he croons, nuzzling at your jawline. Dangerous. “Glad ya think I’m hot and all but that’s not the only part of courting. Like, proving yer able to take care of them. Hunting an’ preparing food. Presenting gifts. Helping them groom. Keeping guard. S’why it takes the whole summer”.

As he speaks a slither of dread settles heavy in his gut. The memories practically flit across your face, visibly connecting the dots. “But you’ve always done those things—” your voice loses strength, mouth opening and closing a few times before finishing, “for me…?”

The sky is bruised. Clouds have gathered by the cliffs, and the sun is almost tucked beneath the horizon, casting a final burst of orange across the glittering ocean’s surface. His display dims. “Yea’,” he clears his throat, summoning a playful tone, “Real sharp, angel. I sure know how to pick ‘em”.

Any confidence he had slips between his fingers like dry sand the longer the silence draws between you. A sad note catches in his throat. His gills twitch as he waits with bated breath. Warm, soft hands come to cradle his face. Your thumb sweeps gently back and forth beneath his eye.

You don’t laugh. You don’t even splash at him. Rather, reverently, you say “…‘Tsumu”.

He peers up to meet your gaze. Softened by dusk, you are watching him through lidded eyes, crinkled at the corners. A sharp sensation frissons up his spine. You tilt his chin, bringing him into a chaste kiss. Atsumu shudders, hands pawing desperately at your hips. You pull back a hair’s breadth only to kiss him again, full lips sliding together, a more deliberate press that grows fervent at the cautious lick of his tongue.

When you seek air with a sharp inhale your eyes flutter closed for a moment. Atsumu doesn’t bother to dull his purr, nor the soft flow emitting from his tail, forming a golden ring of light around your entangled bodies. Mirthfully, you murmur, “I can’t believe it. You like me”.

It feels right; like finally letting himself have everything he’s ever wanted.

He laughs quietly, tucking a kiss beneath your ear, “Somethin’ like that”.

[joi-me-hoi-me-noi]

Hello, I saw that your requests were open and I wanted to ask if I can make one hehe, you don't have to do it or anything like that, but I'll leave the idea here anyway hahaha.

I would like to request a teen! Satoru Gojo x fem! reader and kid!Megumi (or gender neutral) Where Satoru Gojo and reader have known each other since they were little and they are both powerful, therefore when it is time to go on the mission to protect Riko Amanai she is also sent along with Satoru and Suguru,She also suffers because of Toji Zenin and basically everyone is traumatized (here we stick to the canon, doing the daily angst that our dearest Gege gives us..:) ) And basically after the events, reader and Gojo go to Megumi to make Touji's last words come true,I'd like to see a little bit of domestic fluff and a little bit of angst hehe...Reader seeing Toji in Megumi but at the same time wanting to stop because she knows they are completely different people. Happy ending :D

A/n: Thank you for this wonderful request, I'm pretty sure this is the first request regarding JJK in general so yippeeee! Enjoy!

DIFFERENCE BETWEEN (TEEN!GN!Reader x TEEN!Gojo) [ft. KID!Megumi]

"Stay here with Misato, just in case that man manages to make it down here."

You simply nod, looking away. Something felt wrong, you could feel it in your gut. You feel Suguru's hand on your shoulder and you look up at him.

"Satoru's got this, he's the strongest there is. You probably won't even be needed."

You turn to Riko, the sadness building up inside of you. She looked like she was about to cry as well. You had so much fun with her, you'd miss her so much. She rushes into you for a hug, and you hug back tightly, your eyes welling with tears.

"I'm going to miss you." She buries her head in your shoulder. "I'll miss you too, bug."

You let go of her and watch as she walks forward with Suguru, leading her to the end of her life.

You and Misato finally hear the elevator coming down. Satoru made quick work of that guy; it really didn't take that long either.

"That must be him, right?" Misato looks at you, happily.

You start to smile as you felt the elevator growing nearby. Soon it fades, you detect no cursed energy from the lift at all. You start to activate your technique and Misato gets prepared to fight.

The elevator doors open then everything goes black.

"Y/n... Y/n!"

Your eyes slowly open as you wake up with a bad headache. You blink a couple of times and finally adjust to the bright light. Shoko stares at you in relief, smiling softly at you.

"W-What happened?" You suddenly remember the elevator and-

You sit up quickly, groaning in pain and being calmed by Shoko.

"Easy. Easy!" She touches her hand to your back softly, rubbing up and down.

"Is Satoru okay?!" She nods.

The door to the clinic opens to reveal Suguru, a solemn expression on his face.

"Suguru, what's wrong?"

"I gave Riko a choice of continuing to live or to die. She chose to live her life."

You smile, happy he gave her a decision.

"She's...um..."

You laugh softly, smile slowly fading. She couldn't have...

"She's alive and back at home with Misato...right?"

He stays silent, looking at the shiny floor of the clinic.

A sobbing scream was heard from inside the clinic as Gojo listened silently near the door.

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮

You shoot awake from your bed, looking over at your boyfriend who is still sound asleep. Your hand unconsciously rubs the spot where Toji Zenin's bullet almost killed you. You let out a sigh and escape from the bedroom and into the kitchen area.

"You're fine." You open the fridge, the glow illuminating your face with the most perfect uncomfortable amount.

You lean your head against the fridge door and take a deep breath before grabbing a water bottle. You couldn't help but rest your head against one of the counters and sob. You hated how your traumatic experiences will always come back to haunt you. You wipe your eyes, take another deep breath and take a sip of your water.

Your ears pick up a light pitter-patter sound approaching slowly. You turn towards the noise, observing Megumi with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, stopped in the middle of the dark hallway.

"Hey Megumi, you shouldn't be up. What's up?" You crouch down in front of the counter as he continues his silent approach.

"I heard you crying and I couldn't sleep." The kid looked so much like him, he scared you sometimes.

"It's nothing to worry about." His eyes are so similar to his father's.

"I think it is if you're crying. Did you have a nightmare?" Everything is similar to Toji.

"So-Something like that. I'm almost an adult, it's nothing."

Megumi just stares at you blankly for a moment before wrapping his blanket-winged arms around your neck.

"Everyone's afraid of something." He leans in closer to your ear, whispering. "It's okay to admit it, I'm afraid too."

You smile and hug him tight, rocking him back and forth on the kitchen floor. He made you feel better, way better than before. He's just a kid, Y/n. He's not his dad.

"Let's rest together, yeah? It might be easier to sleep that way." He nods, tiredly.

You scoop him up and walk over to the couch. You lay on the couch with him cuddled up into your neck, softly breathing. Megumi fell asleep quickly. You brush your fingers through his hair, watching him fall into a deeper sleep. Soon, you follow him into a better dream than before.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Satoru wakes from his sleep and walks into the living room, knowing you got up in the middle of the night. He spots Megumi cuddling with you in his sleep and you hold him tightly.

'Cute...'

He touches the small scar on the side of your head and then kisses it, bending down slowly. You're more comfortable with Megumi and he hopes you'll get closer to him from here on out.

╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

[sorchathered]

Break my heart again 🖤

Pairing- Jake “Hangman” Seresin x reader

Warnings- language, angst, Jake being an idiot, Bradley being a douchebag

Summary- Jake broke your heart and regrets it more than he can say, what happens when he sees you again but you’ve moved on? Or have you?

Jake Seresin could be a real son of a bitch. He knew it, everyone around him knew it, and after he broke your heart that rainy September night you knew it too. It played out like a bad romcom, “it’s not you it’s me, I’m just not ready to commit” all the pathetic vague bullshit that really just meant that he wanted to be able to be single and hang out with the boys instead of being “tied down” to you. It hurt, especially when it felt like it came out of nowhere. You had been thinking of forever, and apparently he’d been looking for an escape route. So you did what any heartbroken girl would do, got a new look, drank too much with the girls and blocked him from every social media you could.

That was nearly 4 years and two duty stations ago, all of Jake’s drinking buddies had grown up and had families, and now he was on the outside looking in a very different window. Longing for something he should have held on to, knowing it was too little too late.

He’d been back in California for almost a month, the special detachment had become permanent and it looked like the Dagger Squad was here to stay. He was in his own head while everyone headed out for the day, Coyote finally breaking him from his trance with his suggestion to meet everyone at the Hard Deck for dinner and drinks, a couple of the guys' families had made the move to Miramar and it would be a full house. Jake agreed, still in a fog but at least pretending to be interested in the prospect of meeting everyone.

Every night at the bar seemed to go the same these days, he’d drink a few beers, beat the brakes off everyone in darts, and take some pretty girl home only to kick her out in the morning. It was getting sad if he was honest, he hadn’t planned to be nearly 35 and alone, he figured he’d have a wife and at least a kid by now, he was tired of feeling sorry for himself. He needed to stop this endless cycle of bachelorhood, something had to change. He grabbed his beer from Penny and made his way to the pool tables, jolted from his pity party by the sound of the prettiest laugh he’d ever heard. He knew that laugh, hell it had haunted him for far too long. His eyes scanned the area, frantically searching for the face it belonged to, when there you were. Long hair in loose waves down your back, in a red sundress that could make a supermodel jealous, and your arms wrapped around none other than Bradley Bradshaw himself.

It was like all the air had been sucked out of the room, it was too hot and too loud, Jake felt like his skin was suddenly too tight for his body and he couldn’t seem to school his face to at least look normal. Javy’s wife Britt caught on that something was off, Jake was standing at the entrance of the pool area with his eyes wide and mouth gaping, so she kicked her husbands foot and ushered him to figure out what had his friend so shaken up.

But when he looked at Jake’s field of vision he knew, Bradshaw’s girl had looked familiar when they’d walked in but he couldn’t place her until now. He’d known you were Jake’s biggest regret, and he imagined seeing you in the arms of his biggest rival, probably stung like a bitch. He calmly made his way over, grasping his friend by the elbow and pivoting him towards the side exit, the night air would help, and maybe he could get him to spill his guts in the process.

Fuck this was a nightmare, he’d been thinking of you more and more lately these days, and seeing you in Rooster’s arms was enough to make him nearly throw up the contents of his stomach. He’d never felt this unsure of himself in his life and this was the final nail in the coffin. Coyote was worried, Hangman was never off his game, always the most cocksure bastard you’d ever met whether it be in the air or on the ground but this version of him was someone he’d never seen.

“Man come on, you gotta level with me. Was that y/n back there? I know that’s a sucker punch Seresin but you can’t let this drown you, it’s been what? Almost 4 years? You can’t seriously still be hung up on this” he shook his head in disbelief, his best friend had a wild reputation as a Casanova but somehow 30 seconds around this one girl had knocked him to his knees.

“She was everything. Everything you could hope for if you wanted to start a real lasting relationship and I tanked it before we even had a chance. I wanted to fuck around and sow my oats, what the fuck did that even do for me?! I’ve got nothing at home to keep my going, no one to miss me when I’m gone, and now she’s with fucking Bradshaw? Jesus. I don’t know if I can do this tonight man, I think I’m just gonna head out.” He smacks Javy on the arm and heads out to the lot, hating the sympathetic look he knows he’s getting from his friend.

Back in the bar everyone has noticed Jake’s abrupt exit, especially you. Leaning in to press his lips to your ear Bradley says “Well that took less time than I thought, you sure have got him twisted up honey.” He’s grinning, the little shit stirrer, and while you had expected more of a reaction you knew you were in for it when Jake finally got his head on straight.

You’d met Rooster in Japan, working as a medic while he was on a rotation around six months before. It had been a fun friends with benefits situation, no strings and while you couldn’t deny that the sex was phenomenal you were still in the mindset of settling down. Bradley knew that and had told you whenever you were ready to cut things off he’d respect it, you were a good friend and great company but he wasn’t marriage material and he knew it. So when he’d headed back to California and found out that not only was Hangman there, but that you were still hung up on him he had a golden opportunity. Fuck with Jake a little, and maybe get you your happily ever after, it made perfect sense to him even if you thought he was crazy for suggesting it. You couldn’t deny that it was working, Jake had been rattled and ran for the hills, maybe Rooster’s plan wasn’t so half brained after all.

Bradley made it his mission to irritate Jake as much as possible the following week, making sure to let everyone in his radius know he was taking lunch to his girlfriend, loudly answering your phone calls, even dropping flowers off at your office one day. It was maddening, Jake felt like he’d been deflated, he couldn’t even bring himself to string together a sentence when you were around not to mention how much you being around was affecting his ego.

He still hadn’t spoken to you since you saw him at the hard deck, you were so frustrated, you’d really thought he’d come show his ass and the two of you would have it out but it was almost like he didn’t even care you were here. You were so in your head as you headed for the elevator that you ran smack into a warm wall of muscle, dropping your files and your bag. “Oh shit I’m so sorry, I wasn’t even looking are you o-“ you cut off as you looked right into the pretty green eyes of your ex.

“Hey, yeah I’m ok, you alright? Here let me help you” he made quick work of gathering your stuff, accidentally brushing your hand as he handed you one of the files. You knew he felt it too by the sharp intake of breath, just being around each other was enough to bring it all back, it made you want to climb him like a tree and beg him to take you back. You were far too stubborn for that so you stepped away from him like his touch had set you on fire, for someone so uninterested in your presence he certainly looked offended by the action, brows creased with that pesky forehead vein poking out that you always used to pick on him for.

This was awkward, you’re not his anymore but being this close to you may drive him insane. Your perfume is the same, your hair is a little lighter but it suited you, and you looked so damn beautiful, just like you always had. He needed to say something, just staring at you was going to freak you out but he couldn’t find the words. Jesus when did he get so weird?! He muttered out a “see you later” and started to head back down the hall, but you grabbed his hand at the last second, yanking him back towards you.

“Ok what gives?! You’ve been so weird since I got here, I know things ended badly with us but you left me remember?”

“Oh trust me sweets, I remember. Biggest fucking mistake of my life.”

“I’m sorry…what?” He had to be fucking with you, this wasn’t what you expected at all.

“I did leave, and it’s the worst thing I’ve ever done. Fuck y/n I think it about it every damn day, I was stupid and thought I wanted to party my life away, all it left me with was a broken heart and an empty house. I know you’re with Bradshaw now so we shouldn’t even be talking like this-“

“I’m not with Bradley.” You blurted out. “I mean we dated for a little while but he knew how much you hurt me and couldn’t help himself. He certainly knows how to get under your skin.”

“Yeah well, I probably deserve it.” He said as he ran his hand over his face.

“You do” you said with a grin, but noticed he hadn’t let go of your hand.

“So you’re saying that you’re single then?” He said with his smug grin, all it took was knowing he had a chance to bring back the Hangman persona, you shook your head with a laugh, he was already reeling you in. “Yeah, yeah it looks like. Who’s asking?” He chuckled as he pulled you closer, hooking a finger under your chin.

“I am baby, and if I have it my way you won’t be for long.”

Stubbornness be damned, you’d had your fun and now all you wanted was to give in to whatever was causing the butterflies in your stomach, so you let him kiss you. Hot, heavy and definitely indecent considering the environment, you basked in what it felt like to have his lips on yours again. He pulled a way a little, reveling in the way you tried to chase his lips; maybe he had affected you more than you’d let on too. One thing was for sure, he wouldn’t break your heart again, he was already dreaming up ideas of forever, it finally seemed like you both were on the same page.

🏷️ Tagging- @mamamaystbr @mamachasesmayhem @attapullman @roosterforme @bradshawssugarbaby @bobgasm @sailor-aviator @goldenseresinretriever @sarahsmi13s @hangmansgbaby @sebsxphia @mynameismckenziemae

[demonpiratehuntress]

hi hello dearie, hope this finds you well <3 i’ve been reading some of your Ace content for DAYS cuz is ABSOLUTELY MAGNIFICENT and i have a hyperfixation for the man.

i have this oddly specific request if you’re taking requests ofc asksnakxm

ace and the reader meet each other when he saved her from potentially being killed by some random ruthless and murdering pirate, she was in that situation because he had killed some of her friends but that’s not the issue AKSNWKSB the thing is she gets mad because Ace saved her so she said sum “i was content with the fact that i was going to die, i didn’t need your saving” and he’s just stunned cuz? he just saved her???? two days later she thanks him but she tries to escape many times from the ship and those many times Ace ruined her plans so after a week of trying she gives up. THEN two years later they confess their feelings for each other after a day of Ace following her like a puppy and teasing her nonstop until she gives in

ODDLY SPECIFIC IM SO SORRY 😭😭 but it’s okay if you can’t do it <3

hi! thank you so much 😊 also im so so sorry this took so long! I've just been really busy! but i hope you enjoy this! to everyone else, i am still working on the other requests! i have much more than i realised 😂 but i will get them out...eventually

taglist - @kabloswrld

stubborn

Portgas D. Ace x F!Reader

summary - the ask above! :)

warnings - mild angst

Run.

That's all you could think of, all you could do. There was no time or space to do anything else, and your body had already kicked into the fight-or-flight response. You weren't sure how far you could get, but you were desperate to get away.

The gory images of your friends lying sprawled out on the ground, drenched in blood, made itself a home in your mind. You would never be able to forget that, no matter how hard you tried. Swallowing back a sob, you sprinted towards the town as fast as your tired legs could carry you.

"Where do you think you're going, huh?"

A solid wall of muscle slammed into you from the side and sent you flying. You hit an actual wall with a sickening crunch, pain erupting throughout your entire arm. Dislocated shoulder or broken arm, you couldn't tell which one through the blinding agony. You screamed, more so out of pain than wanting someone to hear. You already accepted your fate, the minute he found you. But that didn't make it any less painful.

"I think I'm going to enjoy this kill the most."

A large hand grabbef a fistful of your hair, yanking you upwards to meet his cold, murderous eyes. He was grinning wickedly, taking pleasure in your pain, and watched you squirm in his grip helplessly.

"If you're going to kill me, just get it over with!" You spat, not knowing where the bravery came from because of the immense pain emanating from your injured limb.

He tutted, "No, you gave me too much trouble. I'm going to make this slow and painful, just for you."

"Now that's no way to treat a lady."

A bright orange light filled your vision, but you couldn't tell what it was as you were suddenly dropped, the man who'd murdered your friends letting out a pained yelp. You lifted your head, dots swimming in your vision, but you were able to make out the familisr form of flames dancing along the man's chest.

"Judging from all the blood on your clothes, I'm gonna guess you went a little crazy tonight," another man was saying, but he sounded childishly amused. "Well, too bad it ends for you right here."

You turned to look at the owner, just as he flicked his wrist and sent more fire the murderous pirate's way. Pretty soon he was engulfed in flames, screaming and pawing at his clothes while trying to extinguish them. You couldn't care less, observing the man who'd saved your life.

He was tall and muscular, pale skin lit up by the ball of fire hovering above his palm. No, wait, his hand WAS the ball of fire. He was shirtless, wearing nothing but black shorts, black boots and a red cowboy hat.

You'd seen him somewhere before...

"Ah, good. I thought that might take a while."

You turned back to the man who'd killed your friends and had been chasing you up until now, only to see a crumpled black heap on the floor a few feet away. Your eyes widened, before you were suddenly lifted up into a pair of strong arms.

"I didn't need your help," you blurted out, "I was ready to die! I didn't want to be saved!" Tears formed in your eyes. You had nothing left. You should have died.

Ace frowned, his heart sinking. Your words brought a familiar feeling back to him, one that he hasn't forgotten but had tried to push away after finding a family in the Whitebeard pirates. He knew what it was like to feel the way you did, and it tugged at his heartstrings to find someone else like that.

Someone who didn't want saving, but desperately needed it.

He's so shocked that he almost forgets you need medical treatment. When he finally remembers, he says nothing and hurries back to the ship with you, his mind racing.

-

Two days later, your arm is in a sling and you're walking around the Moby Dick looking for the raven-haired commander that saved your life. The crew was friendly enough to you, and Marco had suggested more bedrest, but you wanted to see and thank Ace.

It was true that you wanted to die, yes, but after facing the kindness of someone you didn't even know, your mind had slowly changed. You were starting to feel grateful towards him, grateful for being alive.

"Hey! You're awake!"

You turned at the sound of the cheery man, spotting him coming your way. You relaxed slightly, not sure why you were so tense to begin with but relieved to see him.

"Yeah," you breathed out, "Your doctor works wonders."

"That he does," Ace grinned, before eyeing you up and down, "You look a lot better. I didn't get your name, though."

"Oh, it's (Name)," you told him, "You're Portgas D. Ace, right? Second Division Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates?"

"That's me. Glad to know I'm popular with pretty women," he flirted, sending you a smile that knocked the air out of your lungs.

You blushed, flustered, "Well I-I just wanted to say...thank you. I hadn't realised it before, but I didn't really want to die. Just thought I had no one left, and nowhere to go. So thank you for changing that."

Ace's smile only grew, so much so you feared it would tear his face in two, "You're welcome! If I'm being honest, I was glad to play hero for a beautiful woman."

Your blush deepened, his charms affecting you in a way that nothing else and no one else ever had. You found yourself at a loss for words, but thankfully he was called away so you didn't have to say anything else.

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

-

The first time you tried to escape, you didn't realise they had a rotational watch schedule. And you hadn't realised that Ace was the one who was on watch that evening.

"Hey, (Name)! Where ya going?"

He smiled at you innocently enough, but his eyes told you he knew exactly what you were trying to do. After all, he'd done the same thing back when he joined. You were just too similar to him.

"Uh...nowhere?" You tried to lie, but you sucked at it. You couldn't even convince a potato if you tried.

"Hmm," he clicked his tongue. "This won't do. Maybe I should just tell Whitebeard, or should I keep this to myself in hopes that it doesn't happen again?"

You agreed to the latter.

The second time, Ace was actually sneaking out of the kitchen with some food when he bumped into you. He raised his eyebrow as your eyes widened, your face giving away your intentions entirely.

He tsk'ed, "Again, (Name)?" He pouted. "You promised, you know."

You sighed and went back to your room, dejected. You could hear him laughing as he walked past your room, and you rolled your eyes as you laid back down to sleep.

The third time, Ace was prepared.

And he had made a trap for you. Which you fell right into, which is why you were now wriggling around in one of the smaller boats, wrestling with a net.

"This is getting old, you know," Ace chuckled as he loomed over you. "Trust me, I know all the tricks. I was you once."

After the fourth and fifth times, you gave up. Ace wasn't going to let you leave, and as the days went by and you got closer to him and the crew, you found your will to leave slowly sapping away. You eventually realised you wanted to stay, having found a family and healed - if only a little bit - with the Whitebeard crew.

One year passed, and you had almost forgotten about the man who'd tormented you. You'd had so much fun with the Whitebeard Pirates, Ace in particular, that you hadn't thought much of the incident. It was getting easier and easier to rid your mind of the gruesome image of your deceased friends month after month. Each adventure left you happier, lighter, and you soon found yourself finding happiness once more.

The pirate life was truly meant for you.

Two years passed, and your time with the Whitebeard crew had become the best of your life. They were practically your family now, and you spoke about and to them as such. You never forgot what happened to you, but you barely thought of it anymore. Not when your head was filled with thoughts about a certain 2nd division commander, with whom you'd fallen in love.

"Ace, stop!" You giggled as he scooped up some batter from the bowl you were mixing it in. You were baking cookies, but Ace was determined to be a menace and sneak in fingerfuls of batter each time you looked away.

"Can't help it," he whined, "It already tastes so good!"

"I haven't even baked it yet!"

"Well then imagine how amazing it'll taste after that!"

You knew he was trying to flatter you to get out of trouble, but you did not care because it was working. And you hated that it always worked, especially with him, because he made your heart race and gave you butterflies.

The days following that included Ace following you around, which you found a little strange since you didn't know why. He would never tell you the reason, always saying something stupid like "you smell good" or "im your bodyguard". You knew he was doing it to tease you, but you couldn't help feeling giddy over the fact that he was choosing to gift YOU with all of his attention.

"Okay, come clean for real this time," you finally approached him one night he was on watch, sitting down next to him. "Why have you been following me around? Teasing me all day, everyday?"

He turned to you, thinking for a moment before speaking seriously for the first time in his life, "Because I'm in love with you, (Name). I didn't want to tell you because I wasn't sure how you'd react or what you'd say, but that's what it is since you wanted to know so badly."

Your eyes went wide, heart thumping like a drum in your chest, "You...you're in love with me?"

He nodded, looking down at his shorts, "I am. These past two years, getting to know you...well, I never really considered the idea of love. But finding you changed that. We're so alike, but also different in ways that complement each other. If that makes sense, I'm not sure it does."

"It does," you smiled slowly, looking out over the water. "And that's really sweet. No one's ever said something so sweet to me before."

"Really? I find that hard to believe, you're so pretty and cute."

Cue the blush, "Yeah, well, I didn't really like anyone before you," you admitted. "Never paid attention to men much, until you barged into my life." You laughed. "You've made me feel so welcome, so comfortable, so happy. You've given me a sense of peace after what happened, and I'm so thankful to you for that. You saved me in more than one way, Ace, and I'm madly in love with you for it."

Your confession took a bit of time to register in his head, but once it did he was smiling goofily and grasping your hand in his. You rested your head on his shoulder, smiling as the two of you spent the whole night holding hands, watching the ocean, and - your favourite part - sharing many heartfelt, intimate kisses.

You were eternally grateful to and for Ace, the man who'd saved you without your permission but eventually earned your heart.

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 40: The Maestro's Mark

Prev > Masterlist > Next

June 1905

TW: mind control, body control, captivity, human auction, abuse, burning, branding, mouth whump, forced self-harm, dissociation, this one's kind of a doozy isn't it

"Sir -- " Fitz's voice had returned to him, and he was dismayed to find it shaky and weak, much like his knees. Beside him, Miss Lily was gripping his chain so hard he thought she might crumble it to dust. "Sir -- who was -- "

"The Maestro, an old and powerful vampire lord. My sire, and Alexander's sire as well. The one responsible for turning us into vampires," Miss Lily said, picking him up into a princess carry. "I wasn't expecting him to be here. He normally does not purchase his thralls."

"Is he --" Fitz faltered with the amount of questions he wanted to ask, before settling on the most important one. "Is he cruel, sir?"

She hesitated to answer as she carried him backstage and out into the hallway. "...Yes," she finally said. "Yes, he is cruel. I'm sorry."

She sounded like she meant the apology, and Fitz's too-short life flashed before his eyes.

"What should I do, sir?"

"There's nothing you can do now. Nothing you can do but be obedient. Try to find the private places in your mind to retreat to, places where he can't reach. Eat whatever you're offered when you can. Sleep as much as possible. And never be defiant, even for the smallest matter. The price will never be worth it."

"...You seem as though you know what you're talking about, sir."

"I was his thrall, once."

It was a colorful and loud nightmare as Fitz was carried through the bustling hallway filled with vampires and their newly purchased thralls, talking and laughing and showing off their fashions. He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping that when he would open them, he'd be somewhere else. The lumpy couch in his drafty, shared apartment. His dressing room backstage. Even the opulent prison of his bedroom back at his family's home.

He'd found that unbearably oppressive at the time. Perhaps he'd been a fool to leave, after all.

When he opened his eyes again, he was in a small room primarily occupied by a desk and a few chairs. A vampire in a fashionable black dress, her neck and ears dripping with jewels, entered the room. "Oh my, Lily, your expression is better suited for a funeral. You've sold your little project for an extravagant amount of cash. Whatever could be the problem?"

Miss Lily's face was sour as a lemon. "You know very well how I feel about my sire, Colette."

"His money will spend as good as everyone else's. If you ask me, you were a little too attached to this thrall."

"I don't care one iota about this thrall," she said, her grip tightening on Fitz's shoulders. "I just think that no one, not even a thrall, deserves the displeasure of serving my sire."

"And yet, I assume you'll want your share of the earnings."

"And yet."

The door opened, and Fitz's new owner entered the room. Perhaps it was Fitz's fevered imagination, but even the gas lamps seemed to flicker in response to the foreboding aura. He gave Miss Lily a small nod, and Fitz felt her fingers dig in tighter, painful.

"It's truly an honor to do business with you, Maestro, sir,"  said Miss Colette, settling behind the desk. "Now, then, sir, you'll owe eleven thousand dollars, unless you require any additional services..."

"No, thank you." He was staring at Fitz now, and it felt like icicles sliding down his back. Fitz couldn't help the impulse to look away -- and realized that he couldn't. He was caught hopelessly in the web of power once more.

His master, as soon as the money was handed over. His master forever. There would be no escaping a man like this.

Never be defiant. The price will never be worth it.

Never be himself ever again.

No, he had to snap out of it. There had to be a way out of this. Some way to charm him, to appeal, to get them both on the same side. There had to be. Weaseling out of bad situations was one of his specialties.

The Maestro was reaching into his coat and pulling out a pouch of what looked to be actual golden coins, as if he were some kind of royalty. Miss Colette didn't seem to regard this as strange, taking the coins from the pouch and weighing them on a small scale. Satisfied with the amount, she handed him a contract to sign.

"Now, if the transaction is complete," he said, "please leave so I can discipline my spawn and my thrall."

"Of course, sir." Miss Colette filed out of the room immediately.

Fitz's protests and his screams died in his throat, along with his desperate impulses to flee anywhere. He was under his new master's power again, frozen in time. He'd never escape, of course, but it still hurt to not even be allowed to try first, to be trapped in a treacherous body that wouldn't obey even his smallest commands.

"Lily," he said, approaching her, and Fitz realized that Miss Lily was holding him in front of her as though Fitz could shield her from her sire. "This thrall has an excellent bloodline and potential. Why did you train him improperly and allow him to make an embarrassment of you?"

"He's a performer by nature, sire, as I'm sure you can see," said Miss Lily, and she sounded as subdued and fearful as Fitz was, a far cry from her confident nature when enthralling him. "He is fully trained and obedient. I simply thought it was amusing to allow him to continue to perform, sire. Plenty of vampires would desire a thrall for entertainment. I don't think he's an embarrassment. It took skill to render him obedient while keeping his personality intact."

If Fitz could move, he would be nodding vigorously, appreciative of Miss Lily's defense.

"Yes. Performance is his nature, that much is true just by looking at him. But you need to be in better control of the thralls in your care, not allow them to preen and pose on the auction block." He reached past Fitz to touch Lily's hair, tucking loose strands of her hair into her bun. Fitz could feel her hands tremble. "Oh, child, I worry that I am too lenient on your soft heart. I don't understand what I did to be cursed with two spawn so gifted and yet so foolish."

"Thank you for your patience with us, sire."

"Indeed. And because you do often delight me, I will allow the punishment to be light."

"Yes, sire. Thank you, sire."

"Here. Take my knife." The Maestro held out a silver knife in a white-gloved hand, and Lily let go of Fitz's arm to take it. "You will find an unoccupied bathroom. You will remove your dress so that you do not bloody it. You will cut out your tongue. You will clean yourself and your surroundings thoroughly. You will then put your dress back on and join my other wayward spawn in the parlor."

Fitz's eyes widened at the description of the punishment, the only movement he could manage. He wanted to run. He wanted to scream. He couldn't do either. Miss Lily let go of his arms, and as she exited the room, head bowed low, he had the desperate, irrational impulse to stop her. True to her advice, she showed no sign of defiance, even when her sire was asking her to do the unthinkable -- as a "light" punishment. From the hard look in her eyes, he had no doubt that she was going to do it.

The door clicked shut. And Fitz was alone with his master.

The strange power forced Fitz's head up to look into the Maestro's eyes as he drew near, like a puppet on strings. With a surprisingly gentle touch, a gloved hand reached out and ruffled his hair, then hooked a finger under his chin and inspected his face from each angle. A soft finger traced down his neck and exposed collarbone, but there was no indication from his heavy aura that the vampire wanted to feed. There was no indication of any desire at all. Just control. Pure control.

What could he do to sway a man like this? He recognized his look, the man who was used to being the most powerful in the room, the kind who couldn't spare a scrap of tolerance for anyone else. No humor, no imagination. The kind of person Fitz usually avoided, or brought up on stage only to tease and get a response from the audience. On stage, Fitz held the power.

His new owner was center stage, now, and not one to relinquish the spotlight easily.

"Fitzwilliam de Hastings," said the Maestro in that musical voice. "You will answer my questions honestly. First -- do you fear me?"

Fitz felt his tongue loosen. This, at least, was an easy question. "Yes, Master."

"You are correct to. At least you are not that sort of fool. Now, tell me -- did you wish for my spawn Alexander to purchase you?"

He recalled the pathetic, fleeting hope he'd had when he'd flirted with Mr. Alexander in the showroom. Yes, yes he had, but he suspected that was the wrong answer. What had worked on Mr. Alexander wouldn't work here -- he needed to work a new angle. "I did think that at first, Master, but then you made that impeccable entrance. You're clearly the vampire all other vampires respect -- it's an honor to have been purchased by you."

The Maestro nodded, then removed one of his gloves.

A percussive crack rang through Fitz's ears, and it took his brain a moment to catch up and realize that he had been slapped hard across the face.

"Do not ever lie to me, child, and do not insult me with your cheap flattery. This is your only warning," his master said, in precisely the same tone as before, not betraying anger or disappointment or any emotion at all. "Try again. Did you wish for my spawn Alexander to purchase you?"

"Yes, Master," said Fitz immediately, praying that he wouldn't incur any further punishment. His tongue. He'd ordered Miss Lily to cut out her own tongue. And if his master wanted to do the same to him, there'd be nothing he could do about it, his very body out of his control.The thought of being permanently rendered mute, unable to joke and flirt and tease and perform --

It hadn't settled in before, had it? What it truly meant to be in thrall to a vampire. Between Miss Lily's mesmerism and his own hubris, he'd imagined himself getting out of this by charming the vampire, carving himself a better life through wit and charisma, as he'd always managed. But these vampires were so much more powerful than him and always would be. What good is wit against a creature who can control your body on a whim, or take your mind away with a word?

He couldn't save himself. No one was coming to save him. There was only him and his cruel new master, and he was unable even to express the despair bubbling up within him. A fate so much worse than death, inescapable.

The re-gloved hand stroked Fitz's cheek gently in the place that was still stinging from the slap. "Despite your ill manners, you have potential, Fitzwilliam. My darling Lily saw that in you, no doubt. A born performer with a compelling presence. Sharp minded. And so, so beautiful. A pity about your headstrong nature," he said. "But you needn't concern yourself. I only need to patiently carve away your imperfections. And I am a very patient vampire."

"Thank you, Master," said Fitz, who had never been more frightened of so-called praise in his life.

"More importantly, I believe you are the key to finally breaking my Alexander's will."

"...I don't understand, sir."

"Thralls aren't meant to understand, child. Thralls are meant to obey. And I have decided what young Alexander's lesson will be." He drew his hand away. "I will give you to Alexander."

Fitz couldn't help but furrow his brow, confused. That couldn't be right. 

"It will be a test for him. One that he will fail."

The Maestro pulled a small metal cylinder from his coat. He carefully lifted the glass from the lamp sitting on Miss Colette's desk, beckoning Fitz forward. Fitz felt himself sleepwalking towards his master, even as the Maestro dipped the metal object in the lamp's flame, even as Fitz realized with growing dread what was about to happen.

"He will forget you belong to me. He will desire to possess you, cherish you, perhaps even love you. He will believe he can rescue you from me. He will be incorrect. I will allow him to believe this, then I will take you from him, and I will break you, and suffering will be a teacher to you both."

Fitz's heart pounded.

"Kneel."

His puppeted body gracefully knelt upon the carpet, the crushed red velvet of his dress cushioning his legs, as he looked up in terror.

With a calm, unreadable expression, the Maestro pulled down the neckline of his ball gown and pressed the burning metal to Fitz's flesh, just below his collarbone.

He couldn't scream. He couldn't flinch. He couldn't fight or back away. He couldn't do anything but feel his eyes filling with tears as the white hot pain seared through his body.

Fitz barely even noticed when the brand was pulled away, because the pain hardly lessened. His master was examining his handiwork, and, seemingly satisfied, made Fitz's body stand.

There was no way Fitz could be standing through the shock and the pain, but the puppet strings controlling his every move made it so, forcing him to walk on weak and shaky legs.

"Now show your gratitude for my precious gift."

Fitz's body curtsied low. 

But Fitz's mind, flooded with pain and endorphins and magic, was traveling far away. Away from here, anywhere but here, anything but this. Anything but an inescapable descent into hell.

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Well, wasn't that fun.

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[bethanydelleman]

do you have any theories on why wickham turned out the way he did? his background sounds humble but not dirt poor as i know steward was a really valued job at the time. and as the elder mr. darcy liked him, he probably had a better life than plenty of boys. correct me if i'm wrong but i don't recall any mention of a mom or siblings, so darcy was probably his main childhood companion. it's just horrible to think that over the years he went from seeing darcy as a friend to someone he could ruin. and he was prepared to ruin georgiana's life, not just take all her money but cause a scandal so she might not ever get married again. and if darcy hadn't found lydia he'd probably just leave her where she was with no way of getting home and destroyed the bennets. like why? everyone was nothing but nice to him his whole life and all he does is hurt them and enjoy doing it. when you think about it kind of sounds evil.

From what I understand, Wickham was a failure of a system whereby a rich person would choose someone poorer to patronize. We can see other examples of this in Emma (Jane Fairfax & Harriet Smith) and especially Mansfield Park (Fanny & William Price).

The idea was that the rich would find someone worthy of improvement, sponsor their education, and give them the ability to raise into the gentry class. This sounds like what Mr. Darcy Sr. tried with Wickham, but in this case it was a failure. What ended up happening isn't that Wickham was grateful, but he ended up feeling entitled to the life of a Darcy. The novel's implication is that Wickham had a bad character, which education could not improve, and that Mr. Darcy Sr. was deceived in because Wickham had a veneer of decency.

From Darcy's Letter:

Mr. Wickham is the son of a very respectable man, who had for many years the management of all the Pemberley estates, and whose good conduct in the discharge of his trust naturally inclined my father to be of service to him; and on George Wickham, who was his godson, his kindness was therefore liberally bestowed. My father supported him at school, and afterwards at Cambridge; most important assistance, as his own father, always poor from the extravagance of his wife, would have been unable to give him a gentleman’s education. My father was not only fond of this young man’s society, whose manners were always engaging, he had also the highest opinion of him, and hoping the church would be his profession, intended to provide for him in it. As for myself, it is many, many years since I first began to think of him in a very different manner. The vicious propensities, the want of principle, which he was careful to guard from the knowledge of his best friend, could not escape the observation of a young man of nearly the same age with himself, and who had opportunities of seeing him in unguarded moments, which Mr. Darcy could not have.

Wickham's account:

“We were born in the same parish, within the same park; the greatest part of our youth was passed together: inmates of the same house, sharing the same amusements, objects of the same parental care."

In Mansfield Park, Sir Thomas talks about how difficult it will be to maintain the distinction between his daughters and Fanny, their adopted niece, and when I think about how Wickham turned out, I think this is meant to be taken seriously (even though Sir Thomas and Mrs. Norris screwed up massively):

“There will be some difficulty in our way, Mrs. Norris,” observed Sir Thomas, “as to the distinction proper to be made between the girls as they grow up: how to preserve in the minds of my daughters the consciousness of what they are, without making them think too lowly of their cousin; and how, without depressing her spirits too far, to make her remember that she is not a Miss Bertram. I should wish to see them very good friends, and would, on no account, authorise in my girls the smallest degree of arrogance towards their relation; but still they cannot be equals. Their rank, fortune, rights, and expectations will always be different. It is a point of great delicacy, and you must assist us in our endeavours to choose exactly the right line of conduct.”

Fanny feels grateful for what the Bertrams give her, even though it's scraps of a real education. Wickham ends up feeling entitled, even though he is "liberally bestowed" and that may have been the problem. He was treated too similarly to Darcy and felt that he was a Darcy, only to find out the patronage didn't go as far as he wanted.

Wickham comes off to me as one of those people who is ALWAYS innocent in his own mind, someone else is always the cause of his misfortunes (he's like Willoughby in that respect). So when he tells Elizabeth about how he lost his inheritance, I think he believes what he is saying. He does think Darcy cheated him somehow even though he was in the wrong. Darcy becomes the tyrant because Wickham refuses to be the villain of his own story.

In addition, I don't know if he would have seen Darcy as a friend. Darcy is one of the few people who can see through Wickham and a con man would hate that. Wickham's dislike of Darcy may well have started because he hates that Darcy can perceive and judge the real him.

[roseghoul26]

Chapter 10: But It's Been Promised To Another

Synopsis: A fic based off the song “ivy” by Taylor Swift. After a startling introduction to the man, Arthur Morgan became the most important part of your life. Married at a young age to an older, wealthy man to help your family, you were trapped in a loveless marriage, your only sense of escape with the rugged cowboy. Will you be able to keep your affair hidden, or will your husband find out, and destroy the last thing that made you happy? Tags: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Strangers To Lovers, Infidelity, Fem!Reader, She/Her Pronouns Used For Reader, Period Typical Misogyny, Emotional Manipulative Relationship (not with Arthur), Mostly Follows Timeline of Game, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Not Beta Read, Slow Burn, First Kiss, Arthur Is Bad At Emotions, Confessions, First Time Together, Cunnilingus, Missionary, Doggy Style, Handjobs, Mirrors, Party, Semi-Public Sex, Quickies, Unsafe Sex, Tags Updated Per Chapter Author's Note: for once i've got nothing to say. hope you enjoy! Taglist: @lokiofasgard12 @ultraporcelainpig @that-one-beannnn @morethantheycansay@nn-hh192 @photo1030 @just-pure-trash @julialoopeezz Chapter List

For the first time during your entire marriage, you were excited for Hans to return home. 

Not because you wanted to see him but because it meant that you were one step closer to seeing Arthur at the party. Your back ached from sleeping on the couch as you reached for the now-dry bedding on the line, a hole in your heart that grew each time Arthur left. 

As you walked back into the house with an armful of laundry, you heard the unmistakable noise of wheels rolling over the dirt path. Excitement bubbled through you, and you ran inside and up the stairs. You got to work quickly, refitting the bed with its sheets, pretending to act surprised when you heard Hans knock lightly at the bedroom door.

Spinning around, you were nearly caught off guard by how disheveled he looked, as if he had run his hands through his hair countless times on the ride home. You don’t think you’d ever seen him like this, and the fake smile you’d plastered on fell. “Hans?” You asked cautiously, honestly a bit concerned. “Everything alright?”

His mouth formed the words, but no noise came out. Instead, he just sighed, an even faker smile than yours appearing beneath his beard. “I’m fine,” was all he said before backing up, no doubt retreating to his office. “Just… work. Nothing you need to bother yourself with.”

“But-” You didn’t even get a word out before he disappeared from the doorway. You heard the sound of keys rattling as he pulled them out of his jacket pocket, and you turned back to your work. 

A thought flashed in your mind, making you halt, listening intently for your husband. You remember that the office was unlocked, having no way to lock it after you and Arthur’s exploration. And when you heard the keys stop jingling, you knew he noticed it, too. He always locked his office, even after two years together. 

You waited with bated breath, expecting to hear heavy footsteps return to the bedroom. Your relief was immeasurable when he just continued into the office, hearing the door click as it shut instead. You were in the clear for now. 

During the rest of the time in the bedroom, you expected Hans to appear at any second, angrily shouting at you. But as the minutes crawled by and you were only met with the sounds of fabric rustling, you relaxed.

Eventually, the bed was back to its original shape, and you left the room, passing Hans’ office as you headed downstairs. Much to your pleasure, the rest of the day was spent in solitude, but Hans did finally leave his office for dinner.

You had no idea how to approach asking him about the party, never having asked him before. You stared holes into your plate until you gathered enough courage to speak. “Are we going to Mr. Bronte’s party tomorrow?”

Hans stopped mid-bite, taken aback by your question. “I know you just got home,” you stammered, “but I would like to go. If that’s alright?” 

When a minute passed with just silence, you mentally chastised yourself. But you couldn’t hide the smile on your face when he finally spoke. “It wouldn’t be a bad idea to go,” he murmured. “Is it tomorrow?”

“I know it’s a quick turnaround-”

“We’re going.” He cut you off. “There’s some people I need to talk to, anyway.”

You hoped you didn’t look too relieved. “Thank you.”

He merely waved your words off, going straight back to his food. 

The following twenty-four hours went by incredibly slowly, making you fidgety. But eventually, night came around, and you eagerly got dressed. The marks on your body were still very evident, so you went with a high-neck party dress, a dusty blush color, with skirts that ended at your ankles. Slipping on matching gloves and shoes, you decided to keep your hair down in case the dress didn’t cover everything. 

The carriage ride there was, as always, awkward and tense. You fidgeted with your silk gloves, having to expel your excitement somehow. You had no idea if Arthur was actually going to be here tonight, but you certainly hoped. 

After a tortuous thirty minutes, the carriage finally halted in front of a grand house on the outskirts of Saint Denis, a home you’d come to know quite well over the past two years. You flashed a practiced smile to the gentleman who opened the carriage door, taking his hand as he helped you out. Hans got out on the other side, meeting you as you stood at the entrance, saying a small thank-you to the man who helped you.

After being asked for any weapons, Hans extended an arm to you, which you took, linking your arms together. He nodded to the servants before walking up the stairs, you by his side. Even you had to admit that the two of you looked like the definition of high-class, regal even. With your well-crafted dress and his well-fitted tuxedo, the two of you certainly made a sight. If you weren’t already so well-known, you were confident you’d be the talk of the town now if the various heads that turned towards you as you entered the party told you anything. 

Taking a deep breath, you calmed your racing heart and pulled up the mask you’d created over the past two years. The two of you had barely gotten down the stairs of the porch before people were talking to you. Well, to Hans, more specifically. They treated you like an accessory, and you couldn’t be more glad now. You had no desire to talk to these people with their fake niceties and shallow words. You only wanted to speak to one person right now, and you scanned the crowd for his rugged face. 

You prayed that you didn’t look too disappointed when your search bore no results and focused your attention on the conversation before you. You merely caught snip-its, something about the tobacco fields of the Braithwaites. You didn’t really care, though, so you let yourself zone out.

The first hour of the party went similarly, accompanying Hans as he talked to other men. Occasionally, someone would extend a compliment your way, and you’d bat your lashes and thank them, but that would be it. They wouldn’t ask about your opinion on the matter they were discussing or if you had any advice or comments. Additionally, not one person asked you how you were doing, so you drowned your loneliness in glasses of very delicious champagne. 

And when this hour went by, and you didn’t see Arthur, or any of the Van Der Linde gang for that matter, you were kicking yourself for being so eager to go to the party. It was exhausting, participating in an environment that treated you like you didn’t exist, a mere accessory for your husband.

Your disappointment ceased to exist, though, when a familiar silver-haired man passed you, shooting you a double-take as he did. A small smile graced his lips, and he nodded politely at you, which you returned. A larger, brown-haired man accompanied him and nodded to you as well. Hans was too caught up in his current conversation to notice, and after you leaned and whispered that you would be right back, you untangled your arm from his and made your way to the duo.

“Enjoying the party, Mrs. Kerrigan?” You heard Hosea ask, bowing his head slightly. 

“With the current company, yes,” you chuckled. “How are you, Hosea?”

“Irritated because I have to spend my night with these buffoons,” he muttered so only you could hear. “No offense to you, miss.”

“None taken. And you, Bill? Are you well?”

If he was surprised you remembered who he was, he didn’t show. “Can’t say I disagree with Hosea.”

“Me neither. If I’ve gotta be in one more conversation where people act like I don’t exist, I’m gonna lose it,” you sighed. “But that’s a far more difficult issue to resolve. What brings you to party tonight, gentlemen?”

At this point, Bill excused himself from the conversation, nodding politely before entering the crowd. “Dutch wants us to scope out some jobs while getting into the pocket of Angelo Bronte.”

“You’ve got quite the task before you, then.” Hosea shook his head. “I take it you don’t like it?”

“Nothing good comes from getting close to authority. You don’t need me to tell you that. From what I’ve heard, you know much about our recent relationships with certain figures.” An image of Leigh Gray flashed in your mind, and you nodded. 

“But that’s enough talk like that for tonight. You don’t have to trouble yourself with our matters, but we do appreciate it. Besides, there’s been a certain someone who’s been looking for you since the moment we arrived.” Hosea’s eyes flicked to something above and behind you with a knowing expression.

Containing your eagerness, you turned, following the direction of his gaze. You couldn’t help your grin as your gaze landed on the porch. Standing by each other, deep in conversation, was Dutch and Bronte, cigars dangling from their lips as they spoke. And beside them, an almost outsider in the conversation, much like you’d been the entire night, was Arthur Morgan.

His attention was very clearly far from the conversation, as his blue eyes were firmly planted on you, and even from this distance, you could see his smile, slightly obscured by a cigar. He looked even better than you imagined in a tux, black material clinging to his broad shoulders and tapered waist. Before you began to stare, you tore your gaze away, ignoring the heat on your cheeks.

“How’re things with my husband,” you muttered, leaning into Hosea so only he could hear your words. 

“We’ve been meaning to talk to him,” Hosea admitted.

“Well, let me introduce you.” Straightening, you cast one final glance at Arthur as you wove between the crowds, Hosea hot on your heels. Arthur leaned over to murmur something to Dutch, but his eyes still never left you, even as Hosea gestured to him. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’d bewitched him,” Hosea teased, making you laugh. 

“It certainly does feel that way, doesn’t it?” You laughed back, sobering when you saw Hans out of the corner of your eye. He was still deep in conversation, and you shot Hosea an apologetic look as you returned to your spot on Hans’ arm. You now had your back to Arthur, but you could still feel his gaze.

Hans only talked for a few moments before his acquaintances dispersed. “Dear, there’s someone I’d like you to meet,” you murmured, angling your head to Hosea. Like a flipped switch, Hosea dropped the casual attitude he’d had with you and had switched to one of pure professionalism and suaveness. You knew he had a silver tongue, but it was astounding to see it in action. 

“Hosea Matthews, how do you do, sir?” Hosea extended a hand, which your husband shook eagerly. 

“A pleasure, Mr. Matthews. The name’s Hans Kerrigan and it appears you’ve already met my wife,” he glanced down at you momentarily. 

You shot Hosea a tight-lipped smile, and you shook his hand as well. Hosea went straight into business, talking about how he was the head of some new security agency in New Austin, something you knew damn well didn’t exist. But Hans was falling into his trap, which made you nearly laugh. Hans seemed almost to light up when Hosea mentioned security, so you knew the first part of their plan had succeeded. So that’s why he had come home looking so stressed: they had wreaked havoc on his business. 

The two men continued to talk for a long while, and you fought the urge to look behind you, knowing once you did, you wouldn’t be able to look away. Hosea’s eyes flicked behind you and Hans before raising his brows at you with a ghost of a smirk. “Here, let me introduce you to two of my compatriots.”

You bit your lips to stop a smile as Dutch and Arthur slid in beside Hosea. Recognition flashed across Hans’ features as he looked at the two new men. “I believe we’ve already had the pleasure. You’re the deputies from Rhodes, right?”

Dutch shot you a look, and you mouthed he doesn’t know back, and your words relieved the black-haired man. “That’s right, Mr. Kerrigan.”

“Good evening, Mr. Van Der Linde,” you greeted him warmly as Hans shook his hand before turning to Arthur. God, keeping your composure was so much more challenging than you thought it would be as you finally looked at him. There he was, the man who had stolen your heart, who had seen you at your most vulnerable, and you had to act like you didn’t want to jump into his arms right there. “It’s Mr. Marston, right?”

Hosea coughed, a poorly hidden chuckle, and even Dutch had to look away before he burst into a laugh. Biting your cheek, you watched Arthur almost look offended, shaking his head slightly. “It’s Morgan, ma’am,” he muttered, extending a hand to you. 

“My sincerest apologies, Mr. Morgan,” you gasped while shaking his hand. Barely contained desire flashed across his face as his hand encompassed yours, a hefty sigh moving his chest. You pulled away before the handshake became too long, your hand returning to rest by your side. Arthur simply nodded, stepping back until he was shoulder-to-shoulder with Hosea, letting the conversation continue. 

As the four men spoke, you found yourself unable to resist the urge any longer, and you let your eyes wander to him. Every time you did, his attention would focus on you, even if he was in the middle of talking. Hans was none the wiser, chatting with the men as if they were long-lost friends. 

You found yourself bored, and some part of you wanted to see how far you could push Arthur in public. It started subtly, letting your eyes trail over his body shamelessly, unseen by the other conversation members. Arthur caught it, though, and every time you did it, you watched his body stiffen.

It grew less subtle, running your hands along your neck, both of you knowing what lay beneath the cloth covering it. A slight wince of pain left you as you rubbed a particularly sore spot, and Arthur quickly hid his balled-up hands behind his back, rocking on his heels slowly. 

Grabbing a flute of champagne, you took a sip, letting out a content noise as the bubbly drink hit your mouth. When you pulled the glass down, a droplet spilled over the edge, and it began to run down the side of the glass. Without thinking, you ran your tongue along the glass, collecting the droplet before it hit your hand. It had been a complete accident, but even so, it finally broke Arthur. 

Arthur muttered something to Hosea before breaking away from the group, an unspoken command in his eyes as he walked away. As he passed, you could tell he wanted to reach out and touch you, but he refrained. Subtle glancing over your shoulder, you watched Arthur climb the porch stairs, disappearing into Bronte’s house.

You waited a few moments before excusing yourself and taking a different path to the house, discarding the glass along the way. It was easy to slip away, to be unnoticed by the crowds, and sneak along the high hedge bushes; eventually, you made your way inside. It was staggeringly quieter in the house, the party chatter now silenced, and all you could hear was the click of your heels and quickened breaths. 

You luckily met with no servants as you glanced around, trying to catch a glimpse of where Arthur went. Walking further in, you ended up on one of the hallways, doors lining each side. You didn’t pay them much mind, but you wished you did when you felt yourself dragged into one, a large hand grasping your wrist. 

Your cry of alarm was muffled by a palm over your mouth, and you nearly bit down until you heard Arthur's drawl. Pressed up against your back, you felt him lean down to your ear, making you shiver. “Were you noticed?” He asked, his voice quiet. 

Unable to speak still, you shook your head. “Good,” he muttered before he spun you around to face him. Lips replaced his palm, the force of the kiss nearly baking you up against the door. Your gloved hands tangled in his hair, meeting the desperation of the kiss, pulling him as close as you could to his body. 

“God, I need ya,” you heard him groan.

“You’ve got me, Arthur.”

“We’ve gotta be quick, darlin’.” You felt his hands run down your body, grasping the backs of your thighs. It took little urging from you to wrap your legs around his body, and he carried you further into the room. You had no idea what kind of room you were in, as the curtains had been drawn shut, leaving the room in almost complete darkness. But dust tickled your nose, and you knew you probably wouldn’t expect anyone to come in soon. 

Still, Arthur was able to navigate the room with ease, and you felt him ease you back down onto a wooden surface. Papers pressed against your back, and you realized you were in an office of sorts, and Arthur had just laid you down on a desk. “D’you know how hard it’s been to keep my eyes off you tonight?” Arthur asked, making you laugh softly. 

“I didn’t think you were tryin’,” you joked. 

“It’s hard to when I just wanna rip this dress off of ya.” Hands braced on either side of your head, and even though you couldn’t see, you knew his face was inches from yours. “And then you decide to tease me. It took everythin’ in me not to take ya right there,” his voice had turned into a growl.

“Arthur-”

“Roll over.” His weight left your body, and you heard the unmistakable sound of his belt buckle as he undid it. Your head spun as excitement and arousal made your body buzz, and you were almost grateful for the dark so that Arthur couldn’t see how eagerly you complied. 

Your feet were barely on the ground as you rested your upper body on the desk, your forearms holding you up. Your breath caught when you felt the skirt of your dress lift, the material ticking your skin as it brushed against it. Arthur had the skirt in a fist at your hip, his other hand trailing over your ass, running his fingers along the edge of your undergarments. “You’ve gotta look so beautiful, bent over like this,” he whispered in the dark. 

“We’ll just have to do it again.”

“Oh, gladly.”

Cold air hit your center as Arthur tugged the garment down, letting it pool at your ankles. You knew neither had time to build things up, but you were still surprised when you felt him press into you. You must’ve made some noise as he eased in, as one of his hands wrapped around to cover your mouth. 

“Gotta be quiet, darlin’,” he whispered, a slight strain in his voice. 

You nodded, stifling your noises as best you could. You were thankful that Arthur kept his hand over your mouth, as you doubted you’d be able to continue to stifle them for long. 

When Arthur’s hips became flush with yours, you both sighed softly, the stretch of him a familiar ache. He leaned forward, and you felt the lightest kiss placed between your clothed shoulders. That was all the warning you got before he was setting a viscous pace, the buckle of his belt hitting your skin with every snap of his hips. Muffled noises spilled from behind Arthur’s hand, a mix of praises and moans and his name. 

You were thankful that the desk he currently had you bent over was sturdy, the soft groan of wood instead of loud creaks, and it remained in its place as he moved. Even through the silk gloves, your nails dug into the skin of your palms as you tried and failed to make as little noise as possible. It proved to be an impossible task with how desperately he was fucking you, hitting all the right spots inside of you. You could do nothing but let your eyes flutter close as pleasure caressed your body, and you could feel your eventual release begin to grow. 

The sound of laughter outside made your eyes shoot open, and in a moment of panic, you tried to get up. Arthur was having none of it, and he used his body weight to keep you pinned to the desk. “Now ya really gotta be quiet,” his voice came out breathy, unfaltering in his movements. “Unless ya want everyone to see you like this.”

You’re not sure why you reacted the way you did, but the idea made you shudder, and Arthur felt it in more ways than one. “Oh, you’d like that?” He asked, a hint of disbelief in his words. Your cheeks burned, shame and embarrassment and excitement making your body warm. “You want everyone to see the respectable Mrs. Kerrigan bent over a desk, fallin’ apart just for me?” You barely heard his words, but you found yourself nodding anyway. “Hate to be the bearer of bad news, but that’s a sight only I get to see.”

Current circumstances notwithstanding, you would’ve commented that he couldn’t see you right now. But your comment faded in your mind as soon as it came, and you just sighed against his palm. 

Thankfully, the sound of laughter and voices receded, and in the back of your mind, you felt relief. But you hardly recognized it, especially when you felt his hand sneak between your thighs and begin to rub at your clit. The movement of his fingers, just like his hips, was quick and hurried, and you found yourself rapidly approaching your release. 

Praises spilled from his lips and into your ear, which was all you needed to reach your end. Your knees buckled as you came, your entire body being held up by the desk as pleasure washed over you. Your head spun, both from your release and the lack of oxygen, and Arthur seemed to realize this as you felt him pull his hand away. As quietly as you could, you sucked in air as Arthur chased his own release, fingers digging into his hips. 

Even though you were drunk on lust, you knew the implications of your following words as you uttered them. “Inside, Arthur,” you gasped, voice scratchy. His pace faltered, and you knew that he heard you. “I wanna feel you for the rest of the night.”

“Oh, fuck…” You felt his head rest between your shoulders, and you felt his warm breath through the material of your dress. You didn’t have to see him to know he was biting down harshly on his lip to keep himself quiet, but a small groan did leave him as he came. Warmth spread through your lower body, making you gasp quietly. 

He took a few moments to catch his breath before easing off and out of you. You had no idea where he went, so you jumped when you felt his fingers brushing up your legs, securing your undergarments back on your body. He rubbed your back as he brought your skirt back down, almost like he was thanking you. 

Using the desk for support, you turned around, making a small noise when you felt his release spill from you. Hands grasped your waist, and you were being tugged into a surprisingly gentle kiss from Arthur. Your arms went around his neck, holding him close. 

“I missed you,” you heard him murmur when he pulled away, head resting against yours.

“I missed you too.” It felt too simple of a response to encompass just how deeply you did miss him, but it would have to do. 

“You look beautiful tonight.” You smiled at the sincerity in his voice.

“You clean up well yourself, Mr. Morgan.”

“I thought it was Mr. Marston.” He still sounded irked by your comment, which made you laugh. 

“You have to admit, it was kind of funny.”

“Dutch and Hosea certainly seemed to think so.”

You hummed. “They seemed to be goin’ a good job buttering up Hans.”

He scoffed. “They didn’t have to try that hard. He’s almost a bit too eager.”

“D’you think he knows?”

“Doubt it. He’s desperate, and we just offered him the perfect solution.”

“I’m glad everything’s working out, then.”

“We’ve got some good scores lined up, too. We’re plannin’ on hittin’ the bank in town soon,” you fought back the dread that made you feel, “which should hopefully give us enough money to get the law off us and to… to start a new life.” Arthur sighed, and he seemed nervous. “Darlin’, would-”

A loud booming sound rocked the room, making you both jump apart. Bright flashes of color poured in from between the curtains, and you laughed in relief. “Fireworks,” you murmured, a bit amazed by the vibrant colors.

The flashes of light allowed you to see Arthur a bit, and he deflated a bit. “We should probably get back to the party.”

You frowned. “Already?”

“As much as I’d like to spend the rest of the night here, every minute of you bein’ gone raises suspicion.”

You hated how right he was. “Fine,” you sighed, your frown deepening when Arthur stepped away, your hands falling to your sides. But it seemed that he, too, couldn’t be away for long because you felt him grab one of your hands as he led you to the door, thumb tracing mindless patterns into your skin. Loud booms continued to rattle the building, and as you stepped outside, you heard the excitement from the crowds. 

When Arthur opened it, the beam of light that hit your eyes made you squint, and you watched as he made sure the hallway was clear before leading you out. He dropped your hand, not before pressing a kiss to the back of it, and he turned to face you. You had to bite back a laugh when you saw the disarray his hair was in, and you ushered him to bend down. Your gloves just created static, and fixing it took more effort than it should have. His eyes never left yours as you worked, a soft smile tugging his lips, which you returned. 

“There you go,” you murmured. “Perfect, as always.”

A light dusting of pink appeared on his cheeks as he stood upright. “Thank you, darlin’.”

“How do I look?”

Blue eyes roamed your body, an almost thoughtful expression on his face. “Words can’t do it justice, darlin’.” That certainly wasn’t what you asked, but you weren’t complaining. Not when he stared at you like you were Venus in the flesh, and you ducked your head. “But you look… put together.”

You certainly didn’t feel put together, but you trusted Arthur’s word. “You were sayin’ somethin’ earlier, before the fireworks.”

“It ain’t important,” Arthur quickly deflected, and you frowned, not liking that he was keeping something from you. “But that reminds me…” You watched Arthur reach inside his jacket, pulling out a small envelope. “A letter arrived for ya yesterday.”

“Is… is it from-”

“It is.” A fond smile appeared on his face at the sheer delight you radiated, and you took the letter he presented to you with shaky hands. Your name was written across the front in your mother's handwriting, and you chuckled in disbelief. 

You caught Arthur off guard when you nearly tackled him in a hug, forcing him to stumble back a few steps. Cautiously, like he was doing something he wasn’t supposed to, you felt his hand settle on your back, the other holding the back of your head, cradling you to his body. “Thank you, Arthur,” you murmured, your words muffled by his suit jacket. Taking a deep breath, you smelled tobacco and gunpowder. It seemed no amount of dolling up could change that. 

“You don’t gotta thank me.”

You ignored him. “I owe you for this.”

Footsteps echoed across the room, forcing you two to pull apart. Even though every part of you screamed to rip the letter open, you knew you weren’t in the suitable space to do it. Carefully, you folded the letter, which was already relatively small, to begin with, and you tucked it into the palm of your glove, hidden away for now. “I’ll read it when I get home.”

There was a respectable amount of space between your bodies now, and you hated it. You both tensed as the footsteps grew closer, and you both flashed polite smiles to the guests who passed. They didn’t seem to recognize you, and you breathed a sigh of relief. “We… we should probably head back to the party.”

Arthur hesitantly nodded. “I’ve got a few things I need to take care of here. I’ll meet ya out there.”

“Up to no good, are we?” 

His responding smirk said all you needed to know. “Go before someone comes lookin’.” Shaking your head lightly, you shot him one last smile before walking past him. You weren’t surprised when you felt him grab your hand, rolling your eyes affectionately. 

“Arthur…” Your words were cut off when he brought your hand up to his lips, the pure adoration in his eyes making you gasp. When he placed three kisses in rapid succession on your knuckles, it took every ounce of willpower not to drag him back into that room. You both knew what he meant by those three kisses, something he had yet to say. But it was a start. 

Your heart hammered in your chest as he dropped your hand and took a few steps back, creating a sense of finality in the conversation. “I’ll see ya out there, darlin’.”

“You better,” you muttered before backing up, not wanting to turn away from him just yet. But as you turned out of the hallway, you lost sight of him, so you faced forward. Walking back to the party alone, you blushed when you felt the remnants of him between your legs, reminding you of what had just transpired.

No one looked as you descended the porch stairs, everyone too distracted by the fireworks show. You were easily able to sneak back to your spot next to Hans, who, too, was also transfixed by the show. He merely nodded your way when you linked your arms, apparently not even fazed by your disappearance. 

Hosea and Dutch were still standing by Hans; their backs turned as they watched the show. You watched as the older man leaned into the other, whispering something to him. You could not distinguish what he said, but Dutch laughed, clapping Hosea on the back. 

The show lasted about five more minutes, and even though the sight was incredible, you couldn’t bring yourself to enjoy it. How could you, when Arthur occupied every corner of your mind? How could you, when the letter in your glove burned your skin?

The man plaguing your thoughts returned shortly after, and the disbelieving look that Hosea gave him made you nearly laugh. When Arthur stood by his side, he also leaned into him, and even though you couldn’t see Arthur’s face, you knew he was either blushing or scoffing based on how he shook his head. 

Hans right returned to business mode, wrapping up the discussion with Dutch and Hosea. You’re not sure how much time passed as you spaced out a bit, but suddenly, the two men were wishing you a good night. “Have a good night, gentlemen,” you nodded to them before directing your attention to Arthur. “You as well, Mr. Morgan.”

Your eyes followed the group until they were long gone, fighting the hitch in your breath when Arthur glanced over his shoulder right at the last moment. The longing was evident on his face, but it was broken when Bill made some comment, and you figured that the other three men were laughing at Arthur’s expense. 

You and Hans stayed at the party until late in the night, when exhaustion pulled at your already aching muscles, and your feet felt like lead in your shoes. You nearly sagged in relief when Hans led you to the front of the house, calling for your carriage. 

You almost immediately excused yourself to the bedroom when you got home, nearly running into the attached bathroom and locking the door. The idea of washing up was the last thing on your mind as you tore off your glove, the letter falling into the sink as you did. Some ink from the envelope had stained your skin, but you didn’t care. 

The sound of paper ripping filled the room. Your hands were sweaty as you held the letter up, and tears formed in your eyes as you read the words in your mother’s handwriting. 

My beautiful daughter,

You have no idea how happy it makes my heart to hear from you. The house has become joyless without you in it. How I long to hear your laughter fill it.

I must admit, I never expected to hear from you again, but how glad I am that my expectations were wrong. After you ran off, I thought we’d never hear from you again.  But it seems you’ve done well for yourself. Seeing a different last name was a bit of a shock, but how glad I am that you’ve found someone to marry! All I hope is that they treat you well and that you’re happy. 

I must stop by and see you! Perhaps bring a few of your siblings. Oh, how they have missed you! Do let your husband know to expect a visit from us soon!

Much love,

Irene

Happiness quickly wore off as the contents of the second paragraph hit you. Confusion made your brow furrow, and you grasped the counter edge for stability. She thought you ran off? Did your father not tell anyone about the marriage he had set up for you? Why was he lying to the rest of your family?

But then another realization hit you, one that made the tears in your eyes finally fall. You were going to see your family again. 

[d3adlyromb3ar]

'. ݁₊ ⊹ cold lips, cold heart — one

— pairing. hockey player!choso x ice skater!fem!reader

— synopsis. you were one of the most graceful skaters to ever skate in your local arena, competing at a young age— racking up trophies and medals as the years passed. after an accident at your last competition, you find yourself afraid to skate again. your coach decides to ask one of your local hockey team players for help, desperate to get you back on the ice. but out of all the players your coach could’ve picked, it had to be him.

— word count. 3.5k

— contents. enemies to friends (eventual), friends to lovers (eventual), angst, trauma, fluff, hurt/comfort, mentions of injuries, language

— notes. i think hockey players are hot & choso is extremely hot, so put those together and life just feels perfect 🤤 thank you @saradika for the dividers 🤍

main masterlist

How does one find themself in this situation, one so backwards. One so disorienting you wonder if this is merely a dream or the harsh reality. It couldn’t possibly be a moment in your life that needed to happen. You outright refused to believe that this was happening for a reason.

Between the battlegrounds you call your life and the way you were losing your mental strength as every day passed— the ice was the last place you clung to. It was the only place where you could be free. Free of the pain, the agony— of it all.

As you feel the cameras flashing, the blurred outlines of faces and silhouettes crowding you— you realize that you life was about to change. The pit in your stomach only grew in size at the possibility that you may never skate again. What was once a place you could call home, could now just be remembered as a sheet of ice.

Your eyes remained unfocused, staring blankly at your legs covered by a sheet, being wheeled into the back of an ambulance. Voices could be heard from either side of you, although they were unclear. It sounded almost as if they were speaking underwater— you weren’t listening.

It became too much for your eyes to stay open, and you begin to drift off. If only you knew how much your life was about to change.

“Here you go,” You handed the man his extra large coffee with two sugars and two creams. Just like every day. “Enjoy!”

“Thanks darling.” The man sent her a smile, heading outside to his usual spot, in the shade, just a hair out of the sunlight.

You smiled as he walked away. He was such a kind old man, face so gentle— and wrinkly. Still, he was sweet.

“What bullshit!” Your friend Maki hissed, face stuffed in her phone, “They keep making these damn tickets more expensive. Fucking fuckers.”

You slapped a hand to your mouth, trying your hardest not to giggle at her frustrated state.

“C’mon, you don’t really wanna go to a hockey game that bad, do you?”

“Hell no.” She hissed.

“Right, right. You just wanna try and get some big hunky hockey player dick.”

Maki had a proud expression on her face.

“That’s right— and I’m not ashamed.”

You shook your head, letting the giggle escape this time.

“You’re utterly ridiculous.”

“And youuu need to get some hockey dick too. Or just dick period.”

You rolled your eyes, very aware of your dry spell that has been going on for… well. Awhile.

“I am doing just fine actually, thank you very much.”

Maki leaned forward, her glasses perched on the tip of her nose. She was giving you her best really look.

“Honey, I’m all for this independent female attitude you got going on but, let’s be real. You need to be dicked down.”

You made a disgusted face, embarrassed that she was talking so loudly when there were costumers around.

“You might feel a little less stressed once you do,” She told you, “Find some super good dick and all your issues might just vanish.”

“Yeah, wish that was the case.” You were at a whisper by the end, glancing down to the scars that started below your knee and disappeared underneath your shorts.

Maki noticed your stare, her gaze softening.

“Listen, it might be good for you to at least meet someone, y’know? You need to stop moping around and go do something— live a little!”

You pouted, crossing your arms.

“I’m not moping around.”

Maki gave you another look.

“Babe, you’re the epitome of moping around.”

You acted hurt, holding a hand over your heart.

“Damn Maki.”

“I’m serious (Y/n).”

You waved her off, brushing all your joking to the side. Plus, you were only using humor to hide how you were truly feeling— defeated.

“I know, I know.”

“I just wanna see you happy, that’s all. You deserve that after everything you’ve been through.” She told you sweetly.

“I am happy Maki. Life at the coffee shop couldn’t be better.” You tried to convince her. Hell, you couldn’t even convince yourself.

“You need a life outside of work, and one that makes you happy.” She corrected.

You walked past her, nudging her shoulder playfully as you passed.

“On it boss!” You said lastly as you headed for the back. Your shift was ending soon.

You clocked out of work, setting your apron in your work locker before heading towards the bus stop. You had a plan to go home and binge some cringey tv show while stuffing your face with junk food. Yeah, that sounds wonderfu—

“(Y/n)!”

Scratch that.

You turned to see your old coach walking towards you, huge smile on her mature face.

“Hey there Ms. Utahime. What brings you here?”

She furrowed her brows, stopping when she was in front of you. Her look was one that made you wonder if you should know why she was here.

“One, can’t I just come see my favorite person in the world,” She definitely wanted something, “And two, I’m wondering why you aren’t back on the ice?” Yup, there it is.

“I told you coach, I’m not going to be starting up again. Already returned my skates and all my uniforms.”

“Nope. Just had everything returned to your place.”

You gave her a wild look.

“Why would you do that?”

“Because you’re going to be back on the ice soon.”

You sighed, leaning on your left leg to give your right a break.

“Coach, I’m not skating anymore. I’m sorry, I’m just not.” You started, pleading almost with her, “That chapter of my life is completed.”

She gave you a motherly look. Oh god.

“(Y/n) that chapter of your life was just beginning. You were doing so well and I couldn’t have been prouder of you.” You felt a but coming. “But,” Yup. “You aren’t done with what you’ve started, I’m sorry, I won’t let you waste your talent.”

“Coach—”

“Nope. I’m not giving you a choice. You’re gonna be back on the ice and train, because I know for a fact it’s been awhile since you’ve skated— no thanks to you.”

“I get it.” You rolled your eyes.

“I have big plans for you (Y/n), and they match up with your big plans.”

“Maybe that used to be my plan. Grow up to be the best skater there ever was, but after my…”

She waited patiently, watching your mouth open like a fish before closing. You had to gather your thoughts.

“After what happened,” You worded differently, “Things have changed. That girl, it isn’t who I am anymore.”

Coach Utahime sighed, giving her a moment to gather herself before letting her hand rest on my shoulder— in attempt to bring me some comfort.

“Will you at least think about it?”

You gazed into her eyes, her hope filled eyes that had you feeling weak and guilty— almost forcing the words out of your mouth. God, how you missed skating, and you’d do anything to get back to where you were. But it wasn’t that easy.

With a deep breath, you found yourself nodding.

“I’ll think about it.”

Her eyes were beaming, a smile taking over her face as she almost started jumping up and down from excitement.

“Great. I’ll see you soon.” She turned and waved goodbye, heading back to wherever she had come from.

Now it was just you standing at the bus stop, head full of chaos. What were you thinking? You couldn’t skate again, could you?

Like a robot following its coding, you walked onto the bus, sitting down in your usual spot all the way in the back— a window seat of course. You let your elbow rest on the arm of the seat, your palm cradling your chin. The view was pretty. In the sense that you got to admire people as the bus passed by. People didn’t realize how interesting they became when they were so oblivious to the watchers of the world, quirks and habits poking out as people became lost in their own little world.

It was a weird thing to appreciate I guess, but it calmed you.

You wondered how you looked to others that happen to watch you. You wondered if they felt sad, or if they felt embarrassment— for how someone could live such a dull life. Especially when life started so colorful, so lively.

Will you at least think about it?

You grumbled into your palm, annoyance at yourself for caving so easily to Utahime. It wasn’t easy to say no to her. She was the best coach you’ve ever had— the only coach that is. She was also not only a constant on the ice, but she was consistent in your personal life as well. It was odd but endearing.

Your thoughts were interrupted when a figure moved from your left. Glancing over, you watched the man sit on the furthest seat from you— except he was in the same row. The very back. Your section.

The man was facing the window, the view not helping you confirm who he was. The second he turned his head, and you were able to get a glance at his stupidly perfect side profile— you wanted to gag.

Choso Kamo.

You went with a scoff instead.

Choso turned his head towards the noise, his eyes unchanging as he saw you. Without smiling your way or offering any kind of greeting— he simply turned back to face forward. Not paying you any attention.

You narrowed your eyes at him, soon facing the window again— allowing yourself to once again sink into the abyss you called your mind.

Choso Kamo. Where to even start with Choso. It was pretty simple. He was a moody, angsty man who praised himself too high at being one of the best hockey players there was. Because that definitely wasn’t right… right? He had this mysterious aura about him, always keeping to himself. Never one to strike a conversation. To make things even better, the only confrontations you have with him were sour. He was always short and rude. It wasn’t that you wanted to dislike him— you just couldn’t stand him.

It also didn’t help that you used to have a crush on him, y’know, before you met him and then realized you hated him sorta thing.

I mean, who wouldn’t have a crush on him? Despite his shit personality, he was insanely attractive. Bone structure sculpted by the gods themselves. It was quite unfair really, to be gifted with such lethal looks— only to be a dick. Oh yeah, it didn’t help that he played hockey too. Apparently, it made a man 10x hotter when they played hockey. I don’t make the rules.

You snuck another glance at him, wondering what he was doing now. Or if he had gotten off the bus while you were daydreaming about hi— I mean thinking. Thinking about him.

You couldn’t help the pink dust your cheeks, seeing as he was already looking your way. In fact, he was holding your gaze with something unspoken. You instinctively placed a hand on your belly, wishing to stop the butterflies.

Again, like you were invisible, he looked away. Gazing out his own window, not paying you any mind. Again.

You chewed the inside of your lip, still unsure why it had to be him that had your gears grinding. He was a dick, yeah that’s it.

“Do you need something?”

The deep voice startled you, snapping you back to reality. A pair of dark eyes were staring at you, his brows furrowed at you as he waited for an answer.

You must’ve been looking at him still while you were lost in your thoughts. Great.

“Uh… no?” You didn’t even know why you were making it sound like a question.

“You were staring at me.”

“You were staring at me first.” You shot back.

His eyes narrowed in on you, silent for a moment as it almost seemed like he was trying to get a read on you. It had you squirming in your seat slightly— his gaze intimidating.

“I didn’t recognize you at first, (Y/n).” He admitted, your name falling off his lips so smoothly. “Was just making sure it was actually you.”

You swallowed, unprepared for that kind of response.

“Surprised you even remember my name.”

He turned his body slightly more facing you.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

You narrowed your gaze, starting to pick at the skin around your fingernails. A bad habit.

“You’re making it sound like we used to be close or something.”

He didn’t respond for a moment, just staring at you with confusion— like he didn’t understand you. He didn’t quite understand where your hostility was coming from.

“Were we not?”

You couldn’t possibly think of a way to respond to that, stuck staring at him like he’d just said the most outrageous thing. You felt confusion, shock and most importantly— embarrassment.

Remembering the day all too well, the day of your innocent much younger self building up the courage to express your feelings to a certain person. The same person who was sitting at the back of the bus with you.

You could still remember the utter humiliation of being rooted in your spot as he told you he didn’t feel the same. The sinking feeling in your stomach when he walked away, leaving you all alone to all watching eyes. You could still feel the tightness in your throat at the last glance of his pitied look towards you before he turned away.

Were we not? Choso had asked. The question almost making you laugh maniacally— at how obvious the answer was.

“No.” You told him blankly, “We were never close, I don’t know where you even got the idea that we were.”

He looked at you again for a moment, the only sound of the lulling engine of the bus. He had such a confused expression, and for a second you thought you saw something along the lines of a hurt look. That couldn’t be right.

“Yeah, guess you’re right.”

He turned back to his window, gazing out at the scenery passing by— leaving you to your thoughts again.

You shook your head, noticing that it was your stop coming up. You got up and headed towards the front of the bus, your hand hanging onto the bus railings as you walked along.

“Have a good day ma’am.” The driver had said sweetly.

You gave them a small smile, holding onto the railing tightly as you focused on your steps. Why did the bus stairs have to be to steep? You thought.

Your heel hovered too far ahead of the next step, causing you to slip— your right knee buckling from the previous stair, crumpling under you.

The bus driver gasped, something about asking if you were okay— but all you could focus on was the hot sensation coming from your right leg. You gripped tightly onto the railing, stopping yourself from falling any further. You bit your lip as a weird sensation flourished throughout you, memories of the accident fresh in your mind— the visions almost causing you to physically flinch away.

“Ma’am? Are you okay ma’am?”

You closed your eyes for a minute, taking a deep breath before you stood on shaky legs, your left leg taking most of the weight. You hobbled off the bus, limping pathetically until you reached a bench.

It wasn't completely a reaction from the pain. Yes it hurt, but it were the overwhelming flashbacks that would cripple you momentarily. You just needed to relax on the bench for a couple seconds, you'd be okay after.

"(Y/n)—?" The familiar deep voice startled you, lifting your gaze to see Choso holding out your bag. "You dropped this."

You kept a neutral expression, grabbing your bag back.

"Thanks."

"You okay?" He asks, and you were confused at his genuinely concerned expression.

You tucked your hair behind your ears, taking a deep breath. You felt better now that the uncomfortable feeling passed.

"Yeah, I'm fine." You kept your answers short.

Choso didn't believe you.

"You sure?" He pushed.

You narrowed your eyes, studying him— almost like you were trying to figure him out.

"Do you actually care?"

Choso sighed, crossing his arms, still standing in front of you.

"Why would I ask if I didn't care?" He replied, his expression the same as when he'd started talking to you— concerned.

"Why would you even ask? You've never bothered to talk to me before, so why now?" You wondered, this sudden change confusing. He was usually quiet and keeping to himself— certainly not bothered to strike up conversation with you. So why now, was it rude to ask?

"You looked like you were in pain, so I thought I'd make sure you were okay." He explained, his brows furrowed as he was slightly annoyed, "Maybe I don't talk a lot, but that doesn't mean I'm heartless."

"Could've fooled me." You mumbled.

"Why do you hate me so much?"

You scoffed, wondering if you should tell him how your younger feelings were hurt. Your younger self experiencing her first heartbreak. Definitely not.

"I don't hate you... I just would rather not talk with you." You said instead.

"Alright... because?"

"Because I just don't wanna talk with you."

He sighed again, running a hand through his hair— which looked so soft and just gorgeous. No, don't think about that.

"Seems unfair."

You shrugged, leaning back on the bench as you crossed your legs. Taking your time when you set your right leg overtop your left, as it felt a little sore from your tumble.

"Life's unfair." You muttered, hating that you were repeating what you had been told all your life. To be on the other end of it felt weird.

He chuckled. He actually chuckled, the deep vibrating sound floating through the air. You really couldn't ignore how much you loved hearing that sound. Actually, you hated that you loved it.

"Alright, well take care (Y/n). Give your leg some rest, hope you feel better." He said, turning to walk away.

Your cheeks flushed, hating that he had caught you— but how?

"I told you— I'm fine." You tried to convince him.

"I know. You're a terrible liar." And he was incredibly observant.

You bit your lip in annoyance, uncrossing your legs and holding your hands over your right thigh— like you were trying to hide it. Yeah good luck.

You couldn't find it in yourself to respond, too frustrated that he had called you out. A part of you wanted to appreciate that he at least seemed like he really cared— but you also didn't trust that it was genuine. You wanted it to be— that small part of you always having a spot in your heart for him. For some reason.

His steps were swift and relaxed as he walked further away down the sidewalk— to where exactly? No idea. You were almost positive this wasn't even his stop, and that he only got off for you. To give you your bag back you weirdo— yeah thats it.

With everything, like coach pressuring you into skating, your family drama that you'd rather not talk about, Maki's odd obsession with getting me dicked down— and now Choso? I didn't need this and I didn't want it.

So why was your head filled with thoughts about him, and his stupidly handsome face?

Fuck.

Your phone rang in your bag, and you scrambled to get it out with a huff of annoyance. Can't I just be left alone? You thought.

Pulling it out, the caller ID said Coach. With a sigh, you slid to answer.

"Hey Coach." You greeted.

"(Y/n)! Good news—!" Her voice squealed through the phone, making you flinch back from it, "I got someone to help you get back on the ice!"

You face palmed your face, running a hand down as you held in the urge to whine.

"Oh, really?" You ask in fake interest.

"Yup, they will help you get comfortable skating again. I wouldn't have asked this person if I didn't trust them." She informed you.

"Great." You said sarcastically.

"(Y/n), try to sound a little excited— god." She complained, and you rolled your eyes. "I'm gonna send you this person's profile. Maybe you can meet and talk with him, get to know each other before you start training. Y'know, get comfortable with each other."

"Alright fine, but I'm only doing this because I know you'll just force me anyway."

"Very true." She laughed. "I'm sending over the info now, gotta go— text you later!"

She hung up before you could say bye, and you got the expected ding of the text. You clicked on the link to the profile and immediately noticed the logo on the profile— it was a hockey team.

Your eyes skimmed over the profile and widened in disbelief when you read the name listed. You gotta be fucking kidding me...

Choso Kamo.

Well fuck.

— ending notes. thinking about making this a series, but I have so many projects in the works right now, what am I doing to myself lol

[mvltisstuff]

how to save a life - e.b

summary: a five alarm for a skyscraper fire puts one of 118’s own in risk.

evan buckley x reader

pray 4 me this is 4k words

edit: HELP DID I JUST FORESHADOW THE S2 FINALE WHAT THE FUCK BUCK

after maddie moved to los angeles, and doug was finally dead, buck felt like everything might finally fall into place. everything had been a mess, but he thought his life was coming together with his new self. he never thought his “new” self would be the one to solve the puzzle.

cases had calmed and his long-needed love had finally come into his life.

y/n clicked immediately when arriving as a new recruit to 118. being a trained paramedic firefighter, she was genius and quick. buck admired her, even though he hadn’t been there over a year when she came.

the two started going on calls together, the easy ones and the troublesome ones. she patched up his cuts, and he iced her bruises. the connection they had was different from most of the first responders in the system.

they knew it was against the rules as they started hanging out more and more. and the more he fell for her. he hadn’t even looked at anyone else because his eyes had become hers.

evan was charming, and speedy on responses. she looked at him with pure respect and adoration whenever he walked in. he lit up the room when he walked in and his attempts to improve himself were encouraging.

the fire between them was jumping floors and the sparks were flying, and everyone knew it. eddie, chim, hen, hell even athena knew.

y/n helped find maddie when she was taken and when chim was hurt. she had been going home with buck when chimney had been on the ground surrounded by crimson.

she hasn’t left bucks side in months, and he hasn’t left hers.

the day had been quiet, which is usually hoped for in their line of work. nothing had happened besides a few small incidents. it was reaching sunset, eddie was clearing plates away and bobby was moving his ingredients back. y/n was organizing the locker rooms, moving things around and cleaning it up.

buck came up behind her, disturbing her quiet. “you hiding from everyone?” he asks, sarcastically. he places his hands on her shoulders and turns her around.

“i’m not hiding,” she smiles. “you just like to keep your locker like it’s a hoarder's closet.”

“haven’t gotten around to it.” he drags out, leaving a soft kiss on her cheek.

he pulls back at the sound of an alarm, raising his brows. “something interesting?”

“god, i hope. i know that’s bad but i need something to keep me up.” the two run out and pull on their gear, climbing into the back of the truck.

“we got 20 stories on beverly, fire started on 7, moving up.” bobby informs through the headphones.

“do they know what started it?” buck asks.

“not yet, all they know is fires jumping floors and we’re gonna need some backup for this one.” bobby pulls out his radio as they pull up to the complex. “unit 118 requesting any units available at 1453 Beverly, backup at 1453 Beverly.”

“shit, this interesting enough for you?” y/n asks buck. he shoots her a quick smirk and looks back at the building. the team shuffles out of the truck, seeing some civilians already making their escape.

“ok, ma’am come over here and we can get you checked out, sound alright?” her sweet, relaxing voice made buck smile.

“eddie, buck, get in there and start hitting this thing. hen, get as many people out of there as you can, no elevator.” captain starts handing out orders and assigning people to places. different teams were going to different floors and the firefighters ran into the burning building. “y/n/n, get in there and start clearing out.”

“on it, sir.”

y/n and buck walked in, but eventually went their separate ways.

———————————————————————

buck and eddie had gotten everyone on the floor out, and everyone above had been taken out. it had been hours, and the fire was still moving. it had become weaker, but was surely still there. buck and eddie had moved out, but y/n was still on the 2nd floor.

she had finally gotten the majority out. people had gone down the staircase and met up with the people who were evacuating them.

a boy in particular had been having trouble and he caught her eye. she had walked over to him to try and help him. he was scared out of his mind, barely letting her touch him to get him out. they were the last two, and had a few minutes to get out. the squeaking of the floor and the crackling of the walls was getting louder by the minute.

the boy was having trouble breathing, and he couldn’t be over 15. the heat was coming through his body, having no protection from it even through his thick clothing.

“hey, buddy, i know it’s scary but you have to try and breathe for me so we can get out of here!”

“where’s my mom?” he shouts.

“listen, we can go find her now, grab my hand and we’ll go see.” he was still hesitant, shaking away. “hey, kid. y/l/n, see?” she points to the name on her jacket. “i know you’re scared but i’m not going to let anything happen ok

“y/n… is she dead?” he asks, shakily, with tears in his eyes.

“i don’t know, buddy, but i haven’t heard anything. we aren’t giving up, cmon.” she reached out to pull him in, and the heat was drowning his body. his lungs were taking in smoke and she had to act fast.

ripping off her mask, she puts it on the boy. she covers him with a layer of her jacket. her main goal was to get this boy to his mom, and there wasn’t anything that was gonna get in her way.

she forced the boy to come down, fighting life or death. the hardwood floors began to weaken, holding the weight up by a string. the cracks were visible on the stained wood, and the smell of burning was pushed into their nose.

when walking over, the cracks on the floor thickened, and got deeper. the pieces of wood were falling. y/n had no choice. it was fight to get this boy back to his mom, or give up and let the fire eat away at them.

she heard the snapping of wood. she felt the collapse of the floor. the structure became too weak, and the tiles and rocks came falling down.

y/n's first instinct was to cover him. he had to be safe. her job was to protect the vulnerable and scared, and she can’t live with herself if she doesn’t do anything to try.

the two landed straight on the first floor in the back of the building. the leftover debris falling onto her already fragile body. the boy was pushed off to the side, hitting his head. y/n looked over. he was awake and moving, but in visible pain. she tried to get up and walk over to him, but she was barricaded down.

tables and desks and materials from the other floors had fallen onto her legs, and a piece of metal had fallen onto her abdomen. the pain was incredible. she didn’t remember feeling pain like this before. she groaned out in pain, heavily breathing.

“y-y/l/n? are you- ok?” he coughs for a few moments, struggling over his words. his eyes were fluttering. she tried to breathe and respond, but the air was getting thicker and her fight response was giving out.

“stay, here. they’re g- gonna find us. just stay awake for me, i know your head hurts.” she needs him to stay conscious. to get help, to save himself.

maybe even save her. she felt ridiculous. the person doing the saving needed to be saved.

when she looked back over, he leaned against a fallen desk. she noticed the slight rise and fall of his chest, and the cut on his temple. his arms were folded by his side.

looking over at him, she yelled as loud as she could. “help! please- buck!” she screams out in hopes that they’ll hear. “cap! anyone please…”

her head is light from all the screaming and the weight she’s carried. the spark of her fight response was blown down, and she let her eyes succumb to darkness.

———————————————————————

“captain nash, we’re handing out a direct order, all evacuation of first responders needs to happen now. the second floor is down.” said a voice over bobby’s radio.

“we’re waiting on y/l/n,” he says. “chim, hit her and tell her to get out.”

“yes, sir.” chim pulls out his radio and switches it on the line. “y/n, gotta get out of there now!”

“y/n/n, do you copy?”

“y/n, again, do you copy?” as he asks a third time, buck makes his way over to him with eddie trailing behind. “what’s going on?” he asks.

bobby and chim exchange nervous looks, knowing that buck needs to know but also that he could make an impulsive move.

“y/n’s not responding. a complete evacuation has been called.” bobby tells buck.

“well what the hell are we doing standing around? we have to get in there!” his voice raises and he shuffles around with his helmet.

“no can do, buckley.” the feminine voice from earlier rings in. “no one in, it’s too risky. we have to stay out of the building.”

“cap cmon, you aren’t really standing back from this, right?” buck shakes his head and stands taller.

“you heard her.” bobby looks down, almost ashamed that he’s giving up. “gather the rest of 118 and we’re going to make room.”

buck stands there in shock. the anger and adrenaline flows through his veins, ready to go back in and get y/n. “are you serious? what is this shit, she would be running back in for one of us?”

“buck..” chim tells him just over a whisper, placing his hand on bucks shoulder.

buck grips his arm and shoves it off. “no! this is ridiculous, we don’t know where she is!”

the officer from before walks away, and as she’s far enough, bobby grabs more gear. “hen!” he shouts out. “stay out here and tell dispatch we need an ambulance.” he looks back over to buck. “this isn’t the first time we’ve rejected an order and it isn’t the last.”

———————————————————————

the four walk in, hearts pounding trying to prepare themselves for what happened. a million things swim through bucks mins. maybe her radio was crushed, or she’s already out and unaccounted for. or she was already gone.

“y/n!” buck screams out over the rubble.

“LAFD, call out!” bobby shouts in front of him.

chim and eddie move big pieces away and search around for any signs of people. buck runs around frantically, stumbling over wood and metal. a clattering is heard from a distance.

“cap, listen.” chim commands.

a boys voice echoes through the high ceilings and tight floors. “he-lp, please.” he forces out.

buck immediately moves as fast as he can. he remembers her voice through the radio, saying that she was with a young kid on the second floor. second floor, the one that collapsed and left all the mess on the first floor. when the team looks up, they notice more than one hole in the roof. they saw a broken floor, and another one above it. the third floor had come down soon after the second.

“guys, over here!” they hear eddie. they rapidly make their way over to see the boy. “he’s bleeding on his head with a laceration to the temple. he’s loopy but doesn’t look much worse than the head.”

“she.. covered me over here,” he mutters. “when the floor fell in, so nothing fell right on me.”

“ok, son. can you tell us your name?” chim says, shining his light into his eyes. “he looks good, nothing to worry about too much. he’s gonna be fine.”

“j-jackson. the woman- she covered me.”

“jackson, what woman? who is she?” buck comes closer, trying to wean every answer he can get out of this boy. “hey! where did she go?”

“buck, relax. if we found him she’s not far.” bobby tries to calm him down, and buck turns around to face him.

out of the corner of his eye, buck sees the yellow reflectance on the floor. a small hand was at the end of it. he sees the swoops of y/ns hair spread out across the floor. surrounding her was a group of cinder blocks and brick.

a massive slab of wall and the body of a desk had forced itself down onto her calf, and a piece of thick pipe had landed on her abdomen. “y/n!” buck runs over, pushing any of the obstacles out of the way. “oh my god, chim, cap, get over here now!”

“y/n, hey! y/n! hey wake up! please, you have to say something!” bucks eyes fill up with moisture seeing his girl buried under rocks in a lifeless look. bobby and chim pull the chunks off her leg and eddie runs over. buck touches the sides of her face with his hands, running his finger down the ash and cut above her eye.

“baby, cmon, move!” he cries, begging her unconscious self to give him a sign.

“i can't find a pulse!” eddie spits out, ready to get her back.

“she must’ve hit her head on the way down, there’s blood in her hair.”

“shit, shit shit!” buck says, moving his arms and beginning compressions. “you’re gonna be ok, this is not the day.” he pants out, forcing these compressions.

“buck..”

“no! y/n/n, come back, please.”

after over a minute of compressions and watching bucks heart crumple with each push, eddie places his fingers gently back onto her neck. “checking for a pulse. it’s there! it’s weak, but it’s there.”

“hen, get a board in here and let LA general we’re en route.” bobby chimes into his radio.

the team places her onto the board, securing her neck and carrying her still body out to the ambulance. buck, in heavy tears, begins to climb into the back.

“no, buck, come this way.”

“what? no, are you kidding? i’m not leaving her!”

“they have her. she’s in good hands and they need room in there.” bobby pulls him back as they shut the doors to the vehicle.

“she could’ve died in there.” his voice cracks and fades out.

“buck, listen to me. she’s alive now. we do what we can.”

———————————————————————

“26 year old female, slight head wound and major leg injuries, blunt trauma to the abdomen,” chim climbs out, pushing the stretcher out into the doors of the hospital. “cpr performed at scene.”

“we got her, page ortho and gen, clear trauma 2 and book and prep O.R 3…” the voice of the surgeon disappears through the chaos of the hospital. patients from all over and the specific building they were at had been piled up at the closest but best hospital in los angeles.

———————————————————————

the waiting room had been filled with first responders. all of 118 was there, and maddie came to be with buck, who hadn’t arrived yet.

athena was the escort to the hospital, speedily driving buck and bobby over to be with their own.

y/n was one of the best. she knew that there was more to the job than just hoses and fire extinguishers. there were people, scared, innocent people having the worst day of their life. she was along every step of the way with her coworkers.

she was the most selfless person buck knew. she got him out of bed when there wasn’t anything to get out for. she made him better and there isn’t a single person buck wants more than her.

half of his heart had been ripped away when her voice didn’t come through the radio. he felt like one of his legs had lost its cast and he wasn’t sure if he would be able to walk again.

he sprints into the hospital doors, searching for the nearest person he knows. “maddie..”

“hey, come here.” she pulls him into a crushing hug and lets him sob into her shoulder.

“she looked dead, maddie. i really thought she was dead.”

“she’s not, she’s in surgery.”

“what did the doctor say?” he asks, pulling away. he almost doesn’t want to know, because it could be anything.

“she has a concussion from hitting her head when landing, and a blunt abdomen trauma from the pipe that landed on her.” she frowns and can barely make eye contact with her little brother.

“jesus christ, so she won’t be back for a bit, huh?”

“no, not for a few months at least. her x-rays showed a tibial shaft fracture in the middle,” she looked over at her pale brother. she’s known him since the moment he was born and has never seen him like this. “buck, sit down. she’s going to be ok.”

maddie leads him over to sit next to her and hen, who reassuringly rubs his shoulder. hen was sat next to chim, whose knee was bouncing under his elbow. some of the firefighters from other districts had even come to support 118. they sat for hours. it felt like years to buck, years he had to wait to see her.

after the painstaking moments of waiting, the doctor walks out. buck is the first to stand up and walk over, followed by the captain.

“she’s stable. she’s knocked out now from anesthesia and we gave her a dose of morphine for the pain. she’s gonna heal, but she’ll be out for a while. she’s gonna need a lot of time and support these next few months.”

“did she wake up at all after you took her in?” bobby asks.

“she was trying to talk a bit in the trauma room. she was able to force out a few words that one of the interns caught. she was asking for a particular person.”

“someone get Garnier down here to look at this leg, we need to get oxygen set up. Souzia, check out the back of her head to make sure that’s nothing to be worried about.” the main doctor spat out orders at his fellows.

“pushing 10mg of morphine.” another voice shouts through, standing above y/n.

“doctor B, she’s waking up a bit!” one of the interns says.

“b-buck.” she squeaks out, barely audible.

“hey, y/n?”

“w-where’s buck? i need t-to see him…”

“ok, miss, it’ll be ok. calm her down a bit and let the OR know we’re coming up.”

“buck, she wanted you.” the doctor says. they know the team by now, they come in all the time.

he didn’t really know what to say, he tried getting out words but failed.

“can we see her?” bobby questions.

“she’s in the ICU, hooked up to a lot of machines. it looks scary, but she’s ok. she’s still out like a light, it could be a while before she wakes up. i can take you to her room to keep her company.” she looks around at the team. “i can't fit you all in there. i’m usually not allowed to do this but i can sneak the five of you in.”

buck, bobby, hen, chimney, and eddie all follow her down the hall like little ducklings. they pass the rooms of people with casts and intubation. they take in the smell of antiseptics and new bandages. the sounds of beeping and hissing of tubes fills their ears and the dimming colors of the hospital in the night overwhelm their senses.

buck reaches the only room he cares about, and the sliding of the door reveals the worst sight he’s seen in a while.

her body was cleaned up and placed in a spotted gown. her leg was wrapped up and a white piece of gauze was wrapped around the top of her head like a headband. her heartbeat was stable on the machine and through fear and panic, the steady beeping brought him down a little. he walked in a little closer and shakily inhaled. one of the chairs had been pulled closer to the bed, and he sat down slowly.

“she’s not gonna break, buck.” hen’s soothing voice comes into the room. “you can touch her.” he looks up at hen with shiny eyes, glossed with tears that have yet to fall onto his red cheeks. he picks up her hand, like if he touched her fingers they’d snap. he puts his other on top of it and pulls it up to his lips, planting a sweet kiss onto her knuckles.

chim sits down on the opposite side, and hen walks over to stand near him. bobby stands at the end of the bed, holding onto the railing at the end. “you did good, y/l/n.”

“we’re gonna have to be at our best without you there.” chim jokes. “i’ll take over for your jobs on calls. you know, handling the machinery and stuff.

“chim, we’ve been over this. you are not handling the machinery.” hen laughs and a smile creeps up onto buck’s face.

“we’re gonna throw… a huge party for you when you come back.” buck says. “and everyone’s gonna be there to see you, so you gotta come back from this.”

“she will, it’s gonna take way more than this to take her out of the game.” bobby looks around. “i don’t even think the chief could if he wanted to.”

buck hides his sobs into his arm, concealing his face from the rest of the people in the room. he felt so weak, like someone had played a joke on him. it had always been y/n and buck against the world, and now it felt like they were in the center of the ring.

they all look at him with pure sadness. they’ve never seen him as such a mess. the happy, uplifting, and motivated buck was carried by y/n. they all knew it, but didn’t realize the extent until that was almost ripped away from his grasp. hen moves over and pulls him against her. the comfort of her grasp makes buck cry even harder. “i love her so much, i need her here with me.” 

“i know, it’s ok, buck.” she holds onto him and bobby and chim watch from a distance. “but she’s not going anywhere.”

buck pulls back and wipes his tears. “i know. i can’t handle seeing her like this again.”

the doctor comes back into the room, disturbing the peace between them. “sorry to interrupt, but i have to kick some of you out now.”

“buck, stay with her.” bobby says.

“i wasn’t planning on going anywhere, so.” he watches them walk away when he speaks out again. “bobby?”

“yeah kid?”

“thank you.” bobby nods and says, “keep her safe, pal.”

buck sits there for hours, fighting sleep from the last shift. his eyes threaten him by almost closing, but he sits up and doesn’t let them. his hand, that hasn’t left hers, adjusts on the bed a little as he leans forward.

“i feel ridiculous, kinda like i’m talking to myself. no offense.” he tries lightening the mood, but he still feels like he’s at the bottom. “seeing you there under all that shit was the worst moment of my life. my heart dropped and it… it was unbearable, y/n. i really thought you were dead. you looked so… you looked gone. like i was too late. but we came back for you. i’ll always come back for you.”

“you’re my safe place, y/n. i couldn’t have continued without you. coming home with you every night… you’ve made me a better person. just, meeting up with girls to have sex and forget about it. you just… you’re my person. you’ll always be my person and i’m not leaving you these next few months whether you like it or not.”

he sits back down in the chair, slightly angled to his side. he checks the time on his phone as his shines out 5:36 AM. he sighs and turns it off, shoving it away. he tries to get as comfortable as he can in his uniform. he’s stayed up with her all night, and waiting has killed him. he was drained, so he allowed himself to fall asleep after 24 hours.

———————————————————————

he woke up in the same space, his same position, with her hand in his. it took him a minute to get his brain together.

“hey.” she speaks out, looking over.

“hey.” he grumbles back, looking over. he smiles without making eye contact, and then he looks over at her squinting eyes. “wait, oh my god, hey.”

he sits up and she laughs, “ouch.”

“yeah, be careful, but, holy shit. when did you wake up?”

“a little while ago, around 8-ish.”

“do you, like, feel ok? i don’t even know what to say.”

“other than a broken leg and my stomach hurts, i’m good.” the corners of her mouth raised. “i’m ok.”

bucks lip starts to shake a little before he bites on it to stop it. the waterworks start again out of relief. he puts his head on the bed with her hand on his forehead.

“buck, hey,” she giggles a little at how worked up he got. “don’t cry, please. i’m ok.”

“you almost died, y/n. you basically did! i was so scared, i thought.. man, your heart stopped and watching you get carried away and having to sit here an-“

her face drops a little. she never really realized the extent of what happened until he repeats it now. “i know, baby. i was scared too. i was scared you wouldn’t find me, but i’m yours. always will be.”

he stands up and kisses her again and she wipes his tears away. “well, get ready because visiting hours start at 9. people went home but they’re coming back at 8:59.”

———————————————————————

“you should’ve seen that floor,y/n” bobby said. “the two ceilings were gone.”

“sorry, bobby, i was busy having them on top of me.” buck still holds her hand, barely being able to let it go. he lets out another sob and puts his head down. “buck! love, i’m fine!”

“i know, i know.” he says, pulling his head back up and swiping away the wetness on his face. “i’m just relieved, you have no idea.”

she places her soft hands on his cheek and looks around again. “what about that boy? i covered him and he passed out- is he ok?”

“he’s fine. jackson was able to go home already.”

she sighs. “well at least that wasn’t for nothing.”

“you did real good, y/n.” bobby says.

“you did so good, baby.” buck says, landing another kiss on her hand.

by the door, y/n hears a pair of crutches come into the room. christopher is far ahead of eddie as his adorable smile spots her. “y/n!”

“hey buddy!” she puts her arms out and he walks over to her, all the other firefighters have bright smiles. everyone loves him.

“chris!” eddie follows in, just a few beats behind. “wait for me next time, kid.”

“i’m glad you’re okay.” he says.

“thanks, i’m glad i’m ok too. now i just have to get back to work.” y/n says.

“better hurry, chim’s ready to take your place over here.” maddie says.

“i never said that!”

“chim, you’re welcome to take my role while i’m out.” she laughs and grimaces.

“take it easy, babe.” buck says, already loading his overprotection.

“it means a lot that you guys are here.”

“no where else we’d rather be.” eddie says. “someone was clearly dying to get over here.” pointing to christopher. buck looks over to y/n, who’s eyes have shut a little. she’s hiding the pain, the morphine helps, but it’s still a lot.

“i think we should let her rest a bit, we can see her again soon.” bobby says, also noticing the tiredness.

loads of, “feel better, y/n” and “see you soon”s came her way as she accepted each goodbye. the room was cleared, and the lights were still dimmed.

“go back to sleep, i’ll be here when you wake up.” buck smiles and sits back.

“thank you.”

“for what?”

“for not giving up on me.”

he leans back over her, leaving the hundredth kiss. “never in a million years.”

a/n - sorry for the medical jargon if it’s half wrong i haven’t watched greys in a while 🫠 i’m also only on season 3 dont attack me 😭

[loveinhawkins]

prompt from @teaspelledbackwards-blog: something featuring sick Steve being taken care of. prompt guidelines

It’s almost like a culture shock, adjusting to normality after everything is over: to not have to leap in front of others with arms outstretched, his whole body tightly coiled; to not have to always be ready to fight.

And most of all, to no longer need to worry about the big, life-threatening things. Even back then, Steve felt like he’d had a lucky escape compared to everything else they were dealing with—sure his bites still stung, but they were only in borderline need of medical attention.

“Borderline?” Eddie had wheezed through the high of morphine when Steve relayed this. “God help us for what your ‘real emergency’ looks like, Harrington.”

So when it’s just a run-of-the-mill day, and Steve’s head is pounding, but it’s not that bad, he powers through. It’s not like it’s pneumonia or anything; it’s not like he’s dying. It just mildly sucks. Well. Maybe more than mildly, but the point still stands.

He doesn’t really think anything of it, until suddenly Robin is pinning him with a shrewd look right in the middle of their shift, eyes briefly narrowing in a way that kinda reminds him of Mary Poppins—if she’d thrown away the nanny career in favour of putting ‘new in’ stickers on VHS titles.

“Let’s swap,” she says authoritatively. “You take your break now, I’ll take mine later, then I can do the closing shift instead.”

“Um, sure, if you—why?”

“You don’t know all the intricacies of my life, Steve! Maybe I need an empty store to practise for my secret opera star dreams. Maybe I’m having a clandestine affair by the light of the shitty computer. Don’t question me.”

She whirls him round and gently taps in between his shoulder blades, pushing him in the direction of the backroom.

He snorts. “All right, all right.”

It’s only when he’s actually stretching out on the threadbare couch that he realises she’d gotten him to distractedly agree while she joked around.

Then it’s like he blinks, and he sleeps right through his thirty minute break. It’s technically forty five minutes by the time he wakes and gets up. He pushes his knuckle briefly against the bridge of his nose as he heads back to the counter, but the ache still remains.

Robin doesn’t make one crack about Steve’s break running over. She doesn’t even take her own break until there’s no-one in the store, dealing with any of their especially annoying customers herself, including that old man who always insists on having a tangential rant about “kids these days.”

(She’d slid a note over to him halfway through said rant, a scribble in Pig Latin: ‘illkay emay.’ Ducking under the counter to stifle his laughter was a nice temporary distraction from his headache.)

When she does come back from her break, she tosses Steve his jacket and car keys.

Steve stops by the half-open door, stares her down. “Are you sure? I can—”

She rolls her eyes. “Oh my god, go. The literal only plan I had was watching a rerun of Headline Chasers with my dad.”

“But.” He clears his throat, and Robin’s grinning, he knows she’s only teasing, and yet… “But you love Headline Chasers.”

She softens, then sticks out her tongue before replying, “I know.”

And it sounds like I love you more, dingus.

-

He plans to drive straight home, but then he sees Dustin biking into the parking lot, and he stops mid-reverse, winding down his window.

“Thought you were closing?” Dustin says.

“Yeah, I was. Robin swapped with me.”

Dustin hops off his bike, looks Steve up and down. “If I’m, like, five minutes, could you give me a ride home?”

Steve raises an eyebrow. He can count the number of times Dustin’s actually asked that on one hand, used to finding him already in the passenger seat, waiting expectantly.

He shrugs. “Sure. I’ll fit your bike in the trunk.”

True to his word, Dustin is in and out of Family Video in barely even three minutes. Steve smiles when he spots that he’s rented out The NeverEnding Story again.

“Dude, just buy it at this point.”

“But then I won’t get the excellent customer service on offer, Steve.”

“What, Robin insulting you?”

It’s an unusually quiet but not unpleasant car ride. Steve doesn’t risk putting the radio on, the pain travelling until it’s a persistent band of pressure across his forehead, and Dustin, strangely enough, doesn’t complain about the lack of music.

By the time he pulls up to Dustin’s house, it feels like his bones are aching, his skin prickling and sensitive. He tries to suppress a wince as he parks, briefly rubs at one eye.

“Hey, Dustin, do you mind if I don’t—” He falters, not sure how to politely put, Normally I love chatting with your mom, but if I delay getting home any longer, I might scream.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dustin says, already getting out of the car. “Stay there, just a sec!”

And instead of slamming the door as per usual, he gently closes it.

Steve only just resists leaning his head on the steering wheel.

Then Dustin is running out of the house, carrying… Tupperware?

“Mom was baking,” he says when Steve rolls down the window again.

“Oh,” Steve says, taking the box, glancing down to see some chocolate cake. “Thanks, man. I should, uh.” He makes to undo his seatbelt, but Dustin waves him off.

“You’ve thanked her, like, a bunch of times, if you do it anymore she’s gonna ask why I’m not a gentleman like you.”

Before Steve can respond, Dustin’s already at his front door, waving as he shuts it and calling out a casual, “Feel better, Steve!”

But how do you…?

-

Steve knows that Eddie’s in his house by the way that the front mat has been left curled up at the corner from where he’s retrieved the spare key.

He opens the door, sighs in relief at the warmth hitting his skin; Eddie must’ve put the heating on.

“You’re being robbed!” is what he’s greeted with, and Steve chuckles, follows Eddie’s voice to the kitchen, and…

He stops in the doorway.

“You made me dinner,” he says, almost numbly.

Eddie looks over at him from where he’s boiling water on the stove, a jar of pasta sauce by his elbow.

“That’s a kind word for it, but okay.”

“You made me dinner,” Steve repeats, and he has to blink rapidly before he does something stupid like tear up. “Why are you even—did we have plans? Did I forget—”

Eddie smiles warmly at him. “Nah, just passing through,” he says, then laughs when Steve tilts his head, unconvinced. “All right, fine. I might have got a phone call. Actually, two: Buckley got there first, and then Henderson called, gave me shit about the line being engaged, he’s so—”

“You didn’t need to make me dinner,” Steve interrupts. He doesn’t exactly know why it’s this that he’s getting stuck on, but he can’t help it. “I could’ve made dinner.”

Eddie’s smile shifts, turns into something so obviously caring that Steve feels his eyes threaten to burn all over again.

“But I wanted to,” he says. He leans against the counter, eyes flickering over Steve’s face, a gentle kind of surveying. “Besides, you’re not feeling great, right?”

“It’s nothing,” Steve says automatically. “Seriously, I don’t even have a fever. It’s not like I need to go to the doctors or…”

He trails off as Eddie gets closer, kisses him softly on the mouth, then the temple; and there must be a salve on his lips or something, because the awful sensitivity on Steve’s skin feels, just for a moment, like it’s been soothed away.

“Doesn’t need to be the worst thing ever for it to matter, Steve,” Eddie says simply.

Steve affects a huff—Eddie’s always coming out with lines just like that, says it’s the DM’s curse, darling—but he melts against Eddie anyway.

“You use the bow tie shapes?”

Eddie grins, nods triumphantly down at the pot. “Only the very best for you.”

Steve smiles into Eddie’s shoulder. “Dork.”

Tonight he’ll lie on the couch after dinner, Eddie reading with the lamp on low so that it doesn’t hurt his head; will drift off thinking of him, of Robin, of Dustin—knowing that the world doesn’t need to be ending for them to care.

[fictionalslvr]

SYNOPSIS: You decided to spent your deserved vacation on a village on the coast of Italy, but you didn't expected to fall in love with the lodge owner son.

PAIRING: Italian¡Leon x older F¡Reader

WORD COUNT: 6.019k

WARNINGS: Age gap of 9 years (Reader is 31 and Leon is 22), older reader. Poorly translated italian, fluffy, romance, shy¡Leon, son of a lodge owner¡Leon. Suggestive, suggestion of jerking off, description of arousal ect

NOTES: i spent one week on this one, actually smashing my head to write all that i wanted. And it's not everything yet, so if you guys like, i may do a second part.

I live in a city builded with Italians, so there's a lot of the Italian culture around here, there's some things that i can assure that is true, but i do NOT speak Italian, i only know a few words and things about the cultures with the descendants i talked with.

Highly inspired by this bot right here || There's a playlist that's not mine who's very good with the vibes of this fic, so listen to it while reading if you like.

You needed a rest. Not only mentally, but physically too. Months after months of hard work made your whole body sore, your wrists were a tad red and irritated because of the paperwork you do all day at your job. Sitting down all day wasn’t helping your stance too, you felt like an old lady everytime you’re home, grumbling about pain all over your back, but couldn’t do anything to ease it. For days now, you felt like a deadpan, nothing could cheer up your mood, not even going out with some friend to relieve the stress. In fact, when you tried to do that, you slept on the table of the bar you came with your friends, after a few sips on a beer. The dizziness spoke louder than your conscious, and without noticing, your elbows were hiding your face as you snored softly. Your friends, Jill and Claire, had to carry you back to your house. Not even a bit of enjoyment from your part in that day. Thank goodness you had your friends around to take care of you, your mood was shitty these days, and even with that, they tried to light it up. At least, they tried, and you’re happy to see that the two girls truly care about you.

Even now, you can’t escape your job, you’re talking about that miserable thing that was burying you deeply into a bad state of grumpiness with Jill, late at night laying in your bed with your short pajamas, even when you know that you need to wake up early next morning. All tucked in your blankets because the cold came without a warning a few days ago into your town, it was making you shiver, and you never missed the sun so badly. It’s like your job is the cause of everything that’s falling apart in your life, and even if it truly is, you can’t stop making your life circle around this, not when you spend so much time there. With your phone in hands, you groaned about your work for her, receiving a answer next;

“You need to take some vacation.” Her voice mumbled to you, all you could hear was the water flowing from her sink as she was doing her night routine of skincare that she often does.

“First of all, to where? Second of all..when? And third of all…why?”

“You have to decide this. But I think that a vacation would be great for you.”

“You’re telling me like…going alone?”

“Yeah, some time for yourself, maybe you’re needing this and don't even know.” Jill shrugs, her face almost glued to her phone on her shoulders. She always has that monotone tone of voice in most of the things she says, even if she worries about you and doesn't explicitly say it.

“I can…I can try to figure this out.”

“Think of it, it will be just fine, no worries. I actually thought about a place you could go.” You shift in your bed, your back against the headboard as you whine in pain. “Where?”

“Italy. I heard about a little village on the coast that has gorgeous things to see there.”

“Italy? Hm, I don't know, Jill. It’s pretty far.”

“Search about Atrani, it will make up your mind.” You heard a sound of Jill munching on something, probably her protein bars that she absolutely loves. Her voice becomes muffled, and you can already visualize her cheeks full as she eats.

“Atrani? Yeah, I'll at least search about it.” She hummed happily with your reply. “That’s good, do something for yourself.”

“I will, thank you for the recommendation.” She only giggled on the other side of the phone.You hear as she stops munching, with her tone more low.

“Don’t mention it. Girl, I’ll have to go now, see ya and take care.”

“See you!” The phone vibrates with a soft beep. Jill is certainly the mother of the group, making sure that everyone was safe and good. She’s the type that advises you and Claire of the cold, remembering to carry a coat, and if not, she always has some meds for anything in her bag. That took a soft chuckle out of you, knowing that she will always care for you and Claire. And you exhale softly when the silence consumes you, alone in your bedroom again.

The idea was not bad, actually. But you’re not the type that go on trips often, and in fact, you never did one alone. The fear of everything going wrong was eating you up. But you decided to at least give it a try. Taking up Jill’s recommendation, you searched up for the place, it was absolutely breath-taking, you could already imagine yourself there, on the sea with a pretty bikini, just enjoying a new culture and everything Italy could offer to you. You heard about Italian cooking, that a lot of people talked about, seems like that rich country was ready to take you in and show their deepest graceful things. Happily, you knew a tad of Italian, this could really help on the trip, and if you needed, there is a translator for you to use for free on the internet. Nothing could go wrong, only if a curse was put into you or something like that. Or you hoped that everything would go as planned.

That night, you slept like a baby, fantasizing about this trip and growing more and more excited. That happiness about a trip you didn’t even started to plan yet. By the morning, your ears were welcomed not so happily as your dreams, by your loud ringtone, awakening you from that dreamland you were in. With a distressing pain in your back, you got up, whining around the house while slowly getting back to your harsh reality. You really thought about that vacation, and your irritated body ached for your paradise to come true. But first, you needed to ask your boss for a lay-off, with at least two months so you could really enjoy every single bit. While getting ready for the job, you spent long minutes thinking about how you could ask your boss for some vacation so easily.

Walking on the hallways, your high heels clicked on the floor, damn this company for forcing the women to use a high heel, this could only make your heels sore and you would probably get worse with the time passing by. The tight black pencil skirts around your thighs were bothering you as well, you could feel one thigh against each other, making it difficult to walk properly. You sigh, letting your head fall in front of you as you knock on your boss's office, his deep voice answering immediately for you to come in.

You were not dumb, you knew how much of a good employee you were, there is no reason for him not to give you the privilege of a vacation, and if he didn't do so…you would resign yourself and worry about that after the vacation. Thank you that you know how to manage your money, always having an emergency fund if that’s needed.

“Sir, I need to ask you something.” You opened the door while mumbling, stepping inside and already going straight to the point. You saw your boss sitting on his chair, an expensive suit around his body and a tie not well tied, as if he doesn’t know how to do it alone. Even for a boss, sometimes he could be just a pathetic old man.

“You can ask me anything, you know this.” He replied, his eyes facing yours, his elbows on the table and his fingers crossed. Another thing that was facing you was his hairless head shining under the white light.

“I was thinking about getting a lay-off, for…some two months at least.”

“Uhm…i understand your situation.” He lays back on his chair, with a sigh, “You’re not the first to ask this in this company. But that’s okay, I'll make it up to you, only because you deserve it.”

Great, you’re not the only one exhausted with your job, and happily, he understood your need. The corners of your lips curl up into a smile, a sincere one, you thanked him, almost eagerly. And you were jumping happily back at home at the end of your shift, people thinking you were crazy on your way back. That night, you couldn’t sleep so early, since you spent the whole night planning the vacation, every little detail was important to avoid bad situations. The whole night, you had only the bright light of your phone lighting up your bedroom. You started to note some things, making some calculations on how much money you would need, how much time you were going to spend, and most of all, you noticed that you needed a place to stay there. You started to search for one who’s close to the places you want to visit. Not too late after, you found a perfect lodge, one called ‘S.K’ for some reason. It had everything you needed and more, even a spa for relaxing the pains all over your body. Most of all, it was a delightful place from the photos you saw. Space was not a problem you were going to have there too.

Without a time to think, you made a reservation, bought your tickets and made sure to fit all on a schedule. You spend the whole night doing this, making sure that would go just fine.

The next day, you told Claire and Jill, who was even more excited than you for this deserved rest you’re going to get. The two vibrated with the news and you three were dreaming about it, imagining everything that could happen there.

When you came into Italy, even the air felt different, a good sensation forming on your chest as you could finally rest a little bit. The flight was good enough for you to sleep almost all the way there, and finally hearing the pilot with that bad radio saying “Passengers, we’re finally on italian lands” gave you chills, in a good way. The flight was okay and nothing to worry about until now. The temperature there was pretty different from your city when you left. It was warm, with a pleasant cool breeze lifting your hair up and making you feel like those silly foreigners laughing and taking pictures of everything they see.

Your humor lights up slowly as you take an uber to the lodge you made a reservation for. You noticed a lot of orchards around the city, and a big crystal clear sea next to the lodge where you're going to spend your vacations. There were a lot of kids on the streets, running with their hair free to nature, it made you giggle at the sight of the car window. The smell here is way different too, some places smell like fruits, others smell like great food, you could hear your stomach rumble in wanting that home made cooking, made from the "nonne's" (grandmas) of the village. Surely, the food is going to be the first thing you’re searching for here.

When you came to your destination, a pleasant building made your eyes shine. ‘S.K’ were written on top of it, a gold material around the circled logo, the pedestrians going in and out showed how popular the place was, the whole place was involved with brown colors that gave you a cozy feeling when you looked at it. Just as the photos you saw, everything looked like a dream coming true. You opened the car door, gave the money to the driver and stepped out to feel some eyes towards you, was it obvious that you’re a foreign? Maybe it's the way you stare at the entrance that makes it obvious, you're standing there for a few minutes now, just shocked by that charming lodge.

The big doors opened with your hand, almost felt like a tight hug when you felt the bliss of the place. Some flowers on the corners made the air easier to breathe, and you had bug eyes looking everywhere to catch the details. You noticed a few old family photos, even some in black and white or in an orange tone, it seems like this lodge is more old than you thought. With the bag in hand, you made your way to the counter, finding a cute old couple smiling and waving at you. You cleared your throat, trying your best at speaking Italian, hoping it would go as you rehearsed.

—"Buon pomeriggio, ho prenotato qui qualche giorno fa"

*(Good afternoon, I made my reservation here a few days ago)

—"Oh certo. Come ti chiami, signorina?" First, the old lady spoke, her voice being a good way to welcome you. It even lightened up your mood even more.

*(Oh, sure. What's your name, miss?)

After all the pleasantries and information you needed to say, the old man smiled at you, handing a pair of keys into your hands when everything was done. You only needed the translator's help a few times, it was an improvement.

—"C'è qualcuno che parla inglese qui per aiutarmi?" You mumbled embarrassed, scratching your nape. The old man nodded, with a bright smile.

*(Is there someone who speaks English here to help me?)

—"Mio figlio" He then called someone out, someone who came dashing, you heard rushed footsteps on the hallways when a young boy made his way at you and his family, his forehead a bit sweaty and his big puppy eyes catching into yours.

*(My son)

When you thought about Italy, you didn’t expect this, not an attractive son of the lodge owner, no. He lifted his face to meet yours, his hands resting on his knees because of the running he came in. He adjusts his stance in a silly way, making his chest come first than his legs on his walk.

—"La signora ha bisogno di aiuto con la lingua." You couldn't quite understand what the woman said, but she pointed at you, your cheeks turning crimson as you couldn’t take your eyes off of that boy.

The young man nodded with his head, his lips turning into a thin line with the same embarrassment as you. He had a hard time describing blonde, it's a dark one but it has blonde nonetheless. His nose shape was the same as the woman on the counter, which you assumed to be his mother. His cheeks were plumped, which made him look so innocent and cute that you felt your heart almost exploding. He was a show of cute features, those cat-like baby blue eyes looking at you like you were something extraordinary to him. That’s when you hear his voice for the first time, the honey tone he carries as he fidgets with his fingers.

—"I can help you. You're not from Italy, right?"

—"Oof, thank goodness!" You let a heavy exhale escape, the hand with the keys pressing against your chest to show your relief. And he noticed the movement, looking at it before gulping down loudly. —"I'm not from here, yeah. Can you help me out?"

—”O-Of course, what do you need, ma’am?”

Most of all, he had that slight Italian accent while speaking English, which you didn’t mind, because the way he’s trying his best makes your heart flutter, even if he rolls his ‘r’s’ a lot more, you find this endearing about this young man. He even had the respect of calling you “ma’am”, maybe because you seem older than him, or just because he’s a gentleman. His parents looked confused as you two started to talk in another language, but with a shrug, they said a warm ‘welcome’ to you. The man looked at the young boy, giving a look that tells him something, almost scolding him for something, he straightens up before saying his name to you.

—”Sorry, my name is Leon, by the way. Leon S. Kennedy.” He offered his hand to a soft handshake, that you didn’t see why not. And quickly, you understood why the lodge is called ‘S.K’. When you told him your name, he smiled with that appealing face of his. —”Let me help you with the bags.”

Without any chance to reply, he takes the heavy bag from your hands, carrying it as if it had feathers on it. You giggled with that, he’s just trying to help, but looks adorable nonetheless.

—”Thank you, can you show me where the 215 room are?”

—”Sure, just follow me ma'am.” You could swear that you would never get tired of listening to his voice, or see his boyish acts and manners.

Remembering what Jill said, your face lights up; “Italy. I heard about a little village on the coast that has gorgeous things to see there.” You had to agree now that you know Leon. You’re known for falling in love easily, so telling this to Jill and Claire would not be a surprise. But you’re not in love with the lodge owner's son in a small village of Italy, you just think he’s lovely, just that. While following him, you noticed that even if you’re older than him, he’s taller than you. Using a tight shirt and baggy jeans, you walked behind him. He's not a toned boy, but his chubby cheeks and soft tummy underneath that shirt only made him more enchanting to you.

—”So…what brings you to this small town?” His voice drags you out of the staring season, you were trying to catch a good amount of details of him, when you were caught. Jolting a bit with his sudden breathy voice, you had a hard time to stop looking at him from behind.

—”Vacation, I was needing this. I felt like an old woman in pain all day’s.” Leon chuckles, walking to the hallways and looking around, with your bag in his hands.

—”Well, you don’t seem old.”

—”I’m thirty one, do I still not look old?” You could hear Leon gasp, almost choking with his own saliva and you wanted to see his face at this moment when he sounded so surprised like this.

—”Wow, your appearance really doesn't make you look like thirty one.”

—”I guess this is good, then.”

—”Very good, ma’am. On the other hand, some people always say that I look too young for my age.” He sighs, shoulders falling for a moment. —”I’m twenty two, do I look younger?”

Leon stops on his way, making you stump on his back before you look him in the face, he turns to look at you. Your bag in hands, a pout on his lips and eyes that carries agony on it. He wanted you to answer.

—”You look…young, yeah. But I thought that you were this age or more, not less.”

—”Great! Because some people keep seeing me as a boy…especially my mamma…” Leon grumbles, whispering the last part as he continues to walk to the room you’re going to stay for two whole months here. Somehow, he felt comfortable enough around you to say that.

—”I cannot relate, but it must be hard.” You made your best to hold a silly chuckle, starting to follow him through the place again after some seconds frozen. His back was turned to you once again. —”And it is! But someone like you doesn’t have this kind of problem.”

Walking behind him, you catched some other things about him, mostly, that he has two moles on the right side of his neck that look like some vampire bit him. And the way his lips were plump and red and he kept biting them —may be a nervous tick he has.—

—”Someone like me?” He stops in front of a door, 215 on the front with a golden adorn on it. He gulps down and changes the subject.

—”W-Well, this is your room, ma’am.”

—”Thank you for the help, Leon. You saved my life.” Leon gave you your bag, biting his lips again and making them more swallow and dry than before. You get the keys and open the door, with a giggle.

—”It was nothing, if you need something, you can always call me.” Noticing his eyes piercing yours, he avoids your eyes when you catch him staring. Before answering, you couldn't hold back a silly giggle, enchanted by that young man.

—”I’ll sure do.”

—”I hope you enjoy your stay here, ma’am.”

—”I know I will.” Sounding way more flirty than you expected, you give him a harmless wink. Not so harmless because it makes Leon keep his eyes on you for a craving attempt to show something. Clearing his throat, he waves his hand at you before turning his back at you, reluctantly. When you did the same, he looked over his shoulder, just to see you one last time before you go inside your room.

You truly are something extraordinary to him, he did not expect to meet someone like you, an older foreign who took his mind at the first glare. You were way more than pretty for your age, looked young and had a voice that made his knees weak. Sure, he’s not in love with you, he’s just thinking you’re a graceful woman. Otherwise, if his father knows that a feeling might be growing on his chest for a client, he might get punished for that, even if he’s not a little boy anymore. But damn, how he wants to see you again, to hear your voice calling his name, to see your eyes wrinkling with a giggle because of something stupid he did, or just to see your curvy body. He can’t wait to see you again, indeed.

The first night was not that easy. The room was perfect, this was not the problem. A cozy decoration, the current of air at the window was gentle and calming, but most of all, you were lucky enough to get a pretty view of the grand sea faraway, that water made your whole body crave for a sea bath or at least taking in the great sun of Italy. Italy sure had the arms open for you, taking you in like a son of their nature, the orchards around bringing the sweet juicy smell to your casement, you just wanted to enjoy these two months and never leave anymore of the red dirt country. The problem was that the thoughts kicked in your head by the night, you were all alone, in a country you barely know, on the coast of it. This could be very dangerous for a woman, and it takes you a whole 3 hours to finally get to sleep. Not before a great bath in a bathtub, feeling the warm water flowing into your body and a glass of wine that you ordered from the lodge services.

On the next morning, only one thing would soothe you out; Taking a sunbath. Not before calling your friends to tell everything and how it was your trip to Italy until now. As you take some swimsuits, you show it on your phone camera, showing it to Jill and Claire on the face call.

—”So…this one? Or this one?” You heard an approving sound of the second one coming for both, Claire was the first to speak, while she had her tummy on the mattress and hands above her chin.

—”The second one is better, trust me.”

—”I agree, and maybe some Italian man around may agree too.” They giggled like some scholar girls talking about their crushes and you rolled your eyes up with the joke.

—”Oh come on, I'm not here for that!”

—”And what’s the problem in finding someone? You’ve been single for a long while now.” You had to agree with Jill, you’re thirty one and it's been a long while since you even kissed someone. Holding the second swimsuit in your hands, you look down on it, in front of your body and realizing that she’s right. —”Maybe all you need is someone, just don’t rush that.”

—”Yeah, who knows. Maybe your true love is in that small city in Italy.”

—”Who knows…” An unconscious smile grows in the corner of your lips, and Claire catches it at the same time, lifting her eyebrows at you.

—”I know that smile! What are you hiding?”

—”Oh, me? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” A faux innocence glittered in your eyes, batting your eyelashes at both.

—”We’re gonna find out soon or later.” Jill hissed under her breath, knowing exactly that there’s something happening that you don’t want to talk about yet. And is not because you don’t trust them, it’s because nothing so extraordinary happened until now.

—”If you two think so…Well, I have a sunbath to take now, enjoy the cold, girls.”

—”Don’t throw this on our faces.” You three laughed before you said goodbye to the girls and left the call. Taking the second option, you slowly put the tight black halter swimsuit around your body, and take a book that you brought to read on the airplane.

On your way, the beach was just too close to go walking by. Bag in your shoulders and only your swimsuit and comfy cloud slippers you walked to there, making your way to the closest umbrella to stay underneath it. The air was not too hot, there weren't many people there, the perfect moment to be on the beach. You took a deep breath, just taking in the view of that sand underneath your feets, or the sea right in front of you, the waves were calling your name and the air felt way more light than before. Seeing a good wood chair to sit on it, you quickly go for it, laying there with only your legs exposed to the sun, the breeze was bringing you the chit chat of the Italians, words and words that you didn’t knew, lifes, families and kids all around, jumping or hopping to do whatever their might be doing on that glorious place. Some kids were making sandcastles, they even had talent for it. It made you even surprised by tiny humans building something so detailed with so much passion, true artists in their hearts you may say. You heard a worried shout on the other side of the beach, a father calling from his son as he dashed to the water happyfully “Ragazzo!” It’s the first thing you heard, and the word made you curious. Keeping your book aside, you didn’t even open it with that whole new bunch of culture in front of your eyes. Searching in your phone for what the father of the little boy yelped, you found the online dictionary.

“A male child (most commonly used) or a man who you are having a romantic relationship with.”

That looked interesting, you’re really learning a lot of things on this trip. With a proud smile, you kept looking at your screen for the translation, the Italian culture crawling inside your mind and making you even more curious to know more. You were crawling for more, begging for more and thirsty for the waters of a different place that felt like heaven, like true paradise in front of your mere eyes, your—

—”Buongiorno, ma’am.”

*(Good morning.)

The voice dragged you out of that learning hypnosis, making you look with wide eyes to who’s behind you. It’s Leon, with that cute lazy smile on his face and his hands behind his back. The way he spoke Italian made a shiver run through your spine, that same damn feeling. You didn’t even heard him coming.

—”It’s you. You scared me for a second.” A relieved breath came out, your hands on your chest, right on your still beating fast poor heart. He chuckled, and you noticed his eyes trailing down on your body. Leon licked his lips, his mind going off for a brief moment as he took the sight of you, on that swimsuit. He truly found it amazing to see the way your waist was so perfect underneath that, or the way your breasts were squeezed on that tight thing. Gosh, he truly adored everything about you in a swimsuit, he could drink from that water fountain for days, and live to worship you and that goddess body that he doubted to believe was real. He realized how hard he’s been staring at your body and quickly answered you in a failed voice.

—”I-I’m sorry, it was not my intention to scare you.”

—”Don’t you worry, ragazzo.” The nickname rolled out of your tongue, winking at him and watching as he froze in his place. Leon Bambi's eyes got even bigger, his lips parted in awe as his eyes dragged up to your eyes, even if he wanted to still look at your succulent legs. He could feel how his pants were getting tighter around his body, the temperature getting hotter and a single sweat drop falling down his forehead. All because of a nickname, not a mere nickname, but you calling him this way made him feel something different.

—”You’re calling me a boy?”

—”Maybe I am.” His lips curl up into a boyish smile, that gives you more confidence to keep going. Leon walked to your side, his hands behind his back to hide the fact that he’s fidgeting his fingers.

—”Well, do you see me as a boy?”

—”It depends, I haven't met you properly yet.” Crossing your legs one above another, his eyes travel down once again, he could feel his heart beating way too fast for a “client”.

—”And…what are you thinking of Italy until now?”

—”It’s very…pleasant of what I have seen yet.” Unconsciously, your eyes traveled at his body, up and down. He quickly noticed the flirt, his ears turning red as he looked away.

—”I’m glad you’re liking it.” His hand made his way to his nape, scratching it to dismiss the shyness away. As a silence creeps in, an idea comes up to your mind.

—”Ragazzo…could you do me a favor since you’re here?”

—”Uhm, of course! What is it?”

—”Could you apply some sunscreen to my legs?” Taking the bottle from your bag, you showed it up to Leon, his eyes lighting up to your favor.

He thought deeply about if he should accept it or not, those legs were calling him up, whispering his name to be caressed by his hands. He gulped loudly, those pants on his legs making everything sufferable to him as he nodded eagerly. His fingers touched yours when he took the bottle from your hands, a lingering movement that made him even more nervous. Leon looked at the bottle, pressing it and seeing the cream drops by the palm of his hands.

Bending down slightly, he looked at your eyes, looking as nervous as if he’s doing a life or death movement.

—”Can…i?”

—”Yes, go ahead.” You let your legs lay free on the white wood chair, Leon took a deep breath before his soft delicate hands touch your skin, causing you to feel a tingling on where he’s touching, he slowly cups your ankle, his hand all around it and showing you how big his hand actually is despite his touches being so respectful towards you. He’s gentle, not really wanting to make it seem like he’s taking advantage of you. Leon kneels down, his knees on the sand even if he doesn't care, it’s you who matters now, it’s his help that you asked for, even if the sand is hot on his skin and making him feel a strange feeling, he keeps doing it.

His hands were always not entirely touching you, as if he didn't deserve to touch you. His chin lifted it up, he had a pair of puppy eyes staring at you, almost begging for something he doesn’t express. You could hear his breath becoming heavier, shaky and sharp and his hands shaking on your skin.

—”Don’t be so nervous, you’re just helping me, no?” Your hands traveled to the top of his hair, scratching his scalp with a big grin. His eyes only grew bigger on you, he bit his lower lips and looked down at your legs nervously, fighting against an urge he didn't understand.

—”Y-Yes…”

Leon whispered, his voice lowering an octave from before and deep inside, you enjoyed seeing him that way. His hands roamed up further, trying his best at applying the product to prevent your perfect skin from burning. Leon couldn't look up at you at this point, feeling very sheepish for having a dirty mind at something so normal and common like this. It isn’t normal to him, not when your body is so damn pretty that messes up with his mind. His lips pursed, his body was there, but his mind was anywhere else, thinking of you. He’s fucked up, he can’t contain the dirty thoughts of you, he is able to feel his erection getting harder to disguise.

His movements suddenly get faster, he just needs to end this now or you will notice that he’s hard while touching you, and he doesn't want you to think he’s a pervert. Leon gets very close to your inner thigh, his breath stuck on his throat as he can smell your skin from that distance. That sweet smell, he could drown on it and he would be satisfied. But not now, when he applies the lotion all over your both legs, he gets up strangely, clearing his throat.

—”Thank you, Leon. You’re amazing.” He heard your voice praising him, and it only got worse. He felt his dick throbbing at your voice, his body craving you. He felt like a virgin teen who had never seen a pair of boobs before, but seeing your cleavage like this was dangerous for that poor boy's heart.

—”Don’t mention it.” Leon turned his body to the other side slightly, just his lower half so you wouldn’t notice his boner.

—”I won’t take your time anymore, thanks again and have a good day.”

—”N-No problem! I should say thanks to you, ma’am.” He gave you a desperate look, your eyes trailing down dangerously. That spark between you two was killing him, he just wanted to give in to that ferocious desire, he just wanted to feel your body all over him, touch you, kiss you and take you to his bed. He wanted to have you by his side. He turned his body uncomfortably even more to the other side, and you quickly knew he was hiding something from you.

—”Is everything okay, Ragazzo?” Did you know how you messed up with his mind? Sometimes he thought you did, because you were so damn attractive and you knew how to use your words to make him shake.

—”Y-Yep! Absolutely. I just…i think my papà called me and…i should go now.” Leon looked at you, trying his best to curl the corner of his lips into an awkward smile, it was the best he could do in that situation. —”It was nice to see you, I'll…see you later!”

He made his way back to the backdoors of the lodge where you came from quickly, not even giving you a chance to see his face one last time. In fact, he couldn’t stand one more second beside you without giving in to his hunger. You were lethal, a poisonous snake that was creeping over his mind, messing with everything he knew about morals or self control. He got up from the sand and left quickly, not even daring to breathe the same air as you do. Leon made his way inside and you watched as he slowly faded inside the building. He always acts strangely next to you, you notice how he's different with the other clients, but this was making you worry you may have said something wrong to him. But in reality, he just needed a bathroom to relieve that throbbing pain.

[luminiscented]

The hc in the master of nature hc list where she makes cole his mom's broth and he cries,,,,that is so 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺can u maybe so a full fic on that hc🙏🙏🙏💓💓thanky 💕💕

Taste of home/ Take care of the inside

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Pairing: Cole x Fem! Master of nature! Reader

Status: Dating

Type: oneshot

Summary: Reader makes Cole a broth with her healing herbs from one of his mother's recepies. She comforts him.

Warnings: Insecurities, no beta we die like Zane in s3

Note: THAT WAS SO CUTEEEE THANK UUU!! I'm sorry for it being so late!! I'm having exams in my non dominant language almost every day and i'm holding on a thread :')

Your boyfriend layed in your bed, his shirt and gi off and in the washing machine after a tough mission. The door to your room creaked open silently as you came in with a small tray of food. Cole's eyes we're closed as he layed his head back to rest for a minute, but as soon as the scent of your cooking hit his nose, his eyelashes fluttered open. The smell was familiar to him. It scratched his brain in the right way, as if something missing was tugging at his heart that was seemingly long forgotten. You gently sat down on the bed and left the tray of food on the counter. You rearranged the pillows and covers so your partner was more comfortable and not in pain. You looked at Cole's muscular chest, now littered in cuts and few bruises here and there. You took his hand and he met your gaze with his own softening one, frustration still visible. For now it was time to take care of the outside, the inside would have to wait for a brief second. You pressed a tender kiss to his cheek as you handed him the tray - a small bowl of broth, a piece of bread and a piece of cake on the side. Cole sighed in relief at the warm sensation of the steam in his face.

"Thanks, Hun. You're great." The master of earth spoke softly before the smell hit his nose even harder and it really caught his attention. It brought a lot to him in a brief moment - sounds, senses, smells, feelings...people. It was his favorite dish as a kid, when everything was ok, when he had smiling, laughing mom and dad at the dinner table. A simple bowl of broth was able to bring back a piece of his long gone family back to him. He stared at the bowl for a while more. His thoughts were scattered, flying into different directions, but in a calm manner. His thoughts shifted to his mom. What would she think of him now? What would she say? How would she look like now? He wanted her to be proud so badly. He thought of his mother every day, especially on missions like this one where he barely made it out alive.

Cole brought the spoon to his lips with shaky movements. It even tasted the same. That same exact flavor. All bruises and cuts faded instantly on his muscular chest. You pressed a kiss to his forehead at the sight of his clear skin. A sigh escaped Cole's lips before a tear dripped down right into the hot broth. A wave of anxiety flooded through your chest. Maybe it was a mistake, you shouldn't have called Cole's dad to ask for the recipe. You took a soft breath before speaking up.

"I'm sorry, maybe i shouldn't have." He was clearly pained by such a memory, perhaps you did more bad than good. "I thought it would've been nice and i...don't know. Sorry." You looked at him with a gentle gaze. You had no idea what it was like to lose the rock in your life, the person who loved you the most. The master of earth's hand found it's way to yours and enveloped it tenderly, afraid to break it if he used more force.

"Thank you for reminding of something nice i had." He looked down, his smile melancholic and full of different emotions you couldn't describe. You were relieved for a moment until you heard a sob. You looked at Cole and your heart broke - the strong, undestroyable guy who was as tough as stone finally let his guard down and he broke right in front of you, crying ugly, but still with a smile on his face. You rushed to take the plate away and you took him in your arms.

He cried quietly as you stroked his gorgeous raven locks. You shushed the man grasping you for dear life and you pressed kisses to the top of his head. You gave him back a piece of his home. It was nothing to you, but to him it mattered so so much. Something even as simple as that could be so much for him. You could never know. You kept petting his hair as he wailed in your arms quietly. Maybe the same way once his father wailed in his mother's arms. You wouldn't know. For now you could only shush the sweetest man in the world as he trusted his most sacred feelings to you.

[elissanatok]

part 4

pairing: Aemond targaryen x velaryon! (strong!) reader

summary: Aemond has loved and secretly claimed you for himself since the day you were born. losing his eye changed him, but maybe it did not affect his feelings for you as much as he thought it had

warnings: english is not my first language, angst, fluff, shy reader, unclexniece, possesive aemond, everybody adores reader in this

wordcount: 902

let me know what you think!! reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback are highly appreciated <33

You couldn’t help it. It had been this way ever since you were a child. Maybe even before that, maybe it was fated by the old gods. You tried so hard to forget about the warm feeling that memories still brought up in you when you thought about the past.

You could hear him giggling, a sound that now was lost forever. He would never be seven again, never sound like that again or look at you the way he used to. He had been your best friend, nothing else, and you wished so hard for it to become that way again.

The light of the almost complete full moon shone through the high window in your bedroom. It had always been your room, nobody dared to change a thing, even though the beautiful chamber had been empty for too long. It didn’t smell familiar anymore, you had realized and so had Aemond, for the hundredth time, while standing in the doorway. You did have a bad habit of not closing the door when you wished for some privacy, always feeling safe and respected in both your homes, but now it seemed like the dumbest thing you had ever done.

In his life he had visited your room more often than you did yourself, he would never say it or tell you, but it was more his than yours at this point. But than again that’s what you felt a lot throughout your life. Being more his than your own.

He stood there for a few minutes, not saying a word, not breathing too loud.

You looked pretty when you cried. Your eyes tinged red and your cheeks stained wet. The color of your lips more prominent because of the swelling. He felt captivated by the sight, but he knew that it was his fault you had shed painful tears. He cleared his throat, clenching his hands behind his back. A small gasp escaped you while your hand flew to your chest, touching the skin above your heart.

“Princess.”, he greeted- you didn´t answer. Your eyes fixed on him like a prey prepared to get his throat torn out, until they changed to the eyes of a dragon, ready for her own meal.

“Did you come here to violate me again?”’ His eyes widened. He certainly didn´t expect you to confront him so straight forward and he never wanted you to believe he had wanted to hurt you. “I…”, “or did you come to make fun of my hair?”

He shook his head. “No. It wasn´t my intention to…”, “Are you certain about that?” He shook his head again, white hair falling out of place. “If it wasn´t you intention than why did you say it? Why couldn´t you hold back when it wasn´t your intention?”

You turned away, trying to hide the tears that were most likely to fall. “I never meant to hurt you, please believe me. I -I lost control of my temper- I didn´t mean to.” He wasn´t apologizing, you both knew that. He had grown up to a man with great self control, he didn´t even know why he had not excluded you from the speech he presented. He wished he would have been controlled enough to ignore the little smirks Lucerys threw at him and instead could have talked to you in a normal way, maybe charmed you a little.

But he had not been able to control his brewing rage, that’s why he now stood in front of a woman he himself felt he had never met before. She had never looked at him like this. Full of hate and pain. It made her look different, but changed nothing about the feelings he kept for her. She was his, and he knew no matter what happened in the future, no matter how she looked at him, his love would always be reserved for her.

You heard his footsteps retrieve from your room, so you hastily ran to the door and slammed it shut – louder than you had intended to.

He had never made you feel like this. He had almost begged you to allow him to touch your hair a few years ago, because he liked it being so different than his. Curly, dark and unruly, not as silky and light as you would have liked for it to be.

It made you doubt. Doubt yourself, although you knew that it was useless. You could not change your appearance you had told yourself, you couldn´t change his view of you, just like you couldn´t change the image of him in your head – no matter how hard you tried or how hard he seemed to try to break it.

When the sun rose again the next morning, and the maids came to prepare you for the day, raking their gentle hands through your hair, you could not stop your wandering thoughts again. The circles under your eyes showed your clear lack of sleep, and everybody would be able to see them.  But you weren´t sure anymore if you were good enough to stay in the red keep, if you were strong enough to handle the ongoing feud between your family members.

This had been your home, until it hadn´t. This people were your home, until they weren´t anymore and maybe you were the only one who believed that things here hadn´t changed, just because you didn´t.

[taestefully-in-luv]

Pick of the Patch | KTH 

banner by @persphonesorchid :]

Summary: You’re a struggling artist with a strong desire to escape so when your mother suddenly calls and asks you to return home to replace her in this years Harvest Festival dance, you never said yes faster. However, she informs you that you’ll be working with another dancer, Kim Taehyung and upon meeting, you decide you do not like him…but right when you think you could grow up and move past it, Taehyung makes it clear that he does not like you either

Pairing: Taehyung x female reader Genre: fluff, angst, smut, enemies to lovers Word Count: 20.9k  Warnings: swearing, some alcohol consumption, sad oc, feeling lost, feelings of regret, Taehyung is kinda an asshole (for reasons🥺), illness, character death, crying,  FLIRTING. smut warnings: so much flirting, little dirty talk, mentions of sex, sensual making out lol, oral (fem rec) vaginal fingering, protected sex, multiple orgasms, slight overstimulation, ass and breast groping, I think that is it.

A/N: sorry it is a day late, I had some personal stuff:] this is a part of the Autumn Leaves Collab! 

© taestefully-in-luv

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Every fallen leaf and any breeze that feels crisp enough to bite at your skin, sucks you into your favorite memories that almost feel forgotten. They’re not forgotten but with how hectic your life has been…well, yeah, almost. Summer has been replaced with the season that brings the most change and good god, you could use some change.

You left home years ago to pursue your dreams of becoming an artist—your mother urged you to follow that dream despite how little you visited home nowadays. Every phone call or text is just your mother continuously cheering you on and giving you the hope that you can be worry free. She’s good. She’s happy. And all she wants is for you to live your dream.

It’s too bad that the dream you wished for isn’t exactly all you imagined. Your art career was once thriving but lately…the last year or more…it’s come to a sudden halt. No inspiration, no motivation and when you do create something it lacks any depth—meaningless. 

You stand here, the sky painted in a light gray as orange leaves fly across creating an interesting mix of colors. Funny, mix of colors feels a lot like your mix of emotions. It’s been a while since you stood in front of your childhood home and it’s been a while since going to the Harvest Festival—you know, the entire reason your mom asked you to come back home for a bit. 

When you were a child the Harvest Festival was the most magical time of year. Who cared about something like Christmas when you had the season of change? Colors transformed, cool breezes ran through your body and soul and the most important thing of all? The Festival that brought this town together. Especially the Harvest Festival dance. 

You smile to yourself, eyes on the autumn decorations your mother put out in the yard. She leads the dance every single year. When you were a kid, you watched your mother dance beautifully to the sound of drums and wind instruments. You watched in awe, copying all of her moves and bragging to everyone that it was your mom. Your mom who made the feeling of change feel so welcoming.  

Your mom called you around a week ago. Asking about how your art was doing and you decided to be honest with her—it wasn’t going well. You almost wanted to cry into the phone but your mom only sighed out and a smile could be heard in her voice. “What perfect timing.” Is the first thing she said. And then she was asking you to come back home for a little while to replace her in this year’s Harvest Festival dance. She explained that she isn’t the same young and vibrant woman she once was…frankly, she’s tired. But what better than her daughter to take over this time around? 

You thought about it only momentarily. This was the perfect escape. So, here you are. Standing in front of your childhood home and trying your hardest to embrace something like a change. 

“Hello?” You call out, poking your head inside the house. It’s quiet but you’re immediately hit with the smell of cookies that you imagine are still in the oven or just came out. “Mom?” 

“y/n?” You hear the sweet voice of your mother before her body turns around the corner down the hall. She lights up. Smile so wide that you already feel like you never left home to begin with. “Hurry!” she waves you over, “You’re going to let all the heat out if you keep that door open.”

You glance behind you before trying to haul your luggage through the doorway, “Sorry, sorry.” 

“How was your trip?” She begins walking closer to you, “Long, huh?”

“It was fine.” You shrug, meeting her halfway to give her a hug. As she gets closer, it kind of hits you that you have been away too long. Your mother looks older than you remember, her skin duller and when she hugs you, it feels frail. But this doesn’t stop you from hugging her tight. You missed her.

“I lost track of time,” Your mom hugs you back just as tight. “So I still haven’t made up your bed yet. The sheets are hanging but I can—”

“No worries,” You pull away from her. “I can do it. Did you make cookies?” You begin strolling down the hall until you’re entering the kitchen and then you grin excitedly. “Oh! You did.”

“You haven’t been home in ages, of course I would make your favorite cookies to celebrate.” Your mom comes in behind you, “But you barely have time to eat any, you really should get going.”

“Huh?” You question her nonchalantly, your focus is on the tray of cookies that lay on the countertop. You start picking at a few but they’re still too warm. “What are you talking about? Go where?”

“The studio!” She swats your hand from the tray of cookies. “Leave them alone until they’re ready. You really never change.” She chuckles to herself. “Anyway, you were supposed to be there half an hour ago.”

You turn to face your mom, “What? I just got here.” You look disappointed. “I thought we could think of some dinner plans and maybe watch a mo—”

“—y/n,” She cuts you off with a soft smile, “The Festival is in three weeks and I doubt you remember any of the steps. Taehyung is already there, he’s been teaching classes for me lately. But he’s also in charge of the dance for the fest—”

“Who?”

“Taehyung. You don’t remember Taehyung, honey?” Your mom tilts her head, “Ah, well you barely came by the studio anymore by the time he was there…I guess that makes sense.” 

You blink at your mom for a few seconds before trying to gather your thoughts, “I’m confused.” You say slowly, “Why is Taehyung…” You trail off, kind of hoping your mom gets where you’re going.

“Oh. You two are both the leads for the dance.” She says like it’s no big deal, her busy hands already at the sink to wash a few dishes. “You’ll be working together.” 

“You never said I would be working with someone?” You come next to her, leaning against the counter. “You never danced with anyone?”

“Things have changed.” She smiles down at the dishes, bowl in hand as she scrubs. “We started incorporating group dances as well as solo ones. But this year, you and Taehyung will dance together. For the finale.”

“For the…wait, I have to dance with some person I don’t know?”

“It really isn’t a big deal, not sure why you’re dragging this on. Plus!” She takes a towel and starts drying the bowl, “You and Taehyung are going to really hit it off, trust me.”

“Hit it…mom. Are you trying to set me up?”

Her head whips in your direction, an exaggerated expression on her face. “I would do no such thing!” 

“Right.” You narrow your eyes at her. “So this Taehyung…”

“Oh he is just…a very, very good boy. He’s mature, talented and so incredible. Basically the son I never had!” She sings out cutely, “You’ll get along. I wouldn’t have asked you to do this if I thought you two wouldn’t at least get along, come on, y/n.” 

Well, that feels fair, you think. “Okay…so I’m supposed to be there? Now?”

“Well, 30 minutes ago.” She reminds you, “But knowing you, you were probably walking around the neighborhood, taking your sweet time.”

Your cheeks get warm because she’s right. “Not really…” You murmur but you crack a smile when you hear your mom laughing.

“Take my car. You remember where the studio is, right?”

“Yes, mom.” You deadpan. “I wouldn’t forget where that’s at when you’ve owned that place since before I was born.”

“It’s just been a while.” She still smiles at you but you feel a slight pang of guilt. It has been a while. Probably way too long. You wonder how much you’ve missed out on. 

“Okay, I guess I’ll be back later then?”

“Yeah! Taehyung will be there, you won’t miss him! Tall, handsome, has the sweetest smile.” 

“Uh huh.” You wave her off before slipping into the hall and finding the bathroom to quickly check your appearance before heading out. 

~

The dance studio your mom owns where she teaches dance classes is very nearby. Not even a 10 minute drive. The town has changed though, construction, new parks and cafés you don’t ever remember seeing…so you don’t actually make it within 10 minutes…considering you had to take a detour thanks to construction and you got lost. 

But finally, after 20 minutes, you make it to the studio. You notice the building has a had a paint job and there’s even a bench with a few potted plants outside the entrance. Cute, you think. You open the door and a soft ding goes off but it’s drowned out by the music coming from the back where the practice rooms are. You glance around, few decorations and framed photos of past students hang on the walls. A particular portrait catches your eye though. A huge landscape painting on the wall where the front desk is and you can’t help the heat in your cheeks as you gaze at it. You painted this back when you were in middle school…you can’t believe your mom still has never taken it down.

You walk slowly, legs taking you to the back to the main practice room where you know the music is coming from plus the voices of people. There’s maybe around 12 people back here, eyes going to you only temporarily before they’re going back to what they are doing. You glance around, feeling a little out of place, eyes going everywhere but in front of you.

“Yeah, ow.” A deep voice suddenly speaks up. Your head snaps up to see you might have stepped on some guys foot as you were walking. “Might help if you actually looked where you were going.”

“Oh shit” You blurt before looking around again but then your eyes go back to the man who stands before you. “Sorry, sorry.” You apologize immediately. “I—“

“Please show it to me again!” A girl wraps her fingers around this guy’s arm. “You know I am terrible at instructions.” She giggles and you look between them. This girl looks a little ridiculous as she fawns over this guy. He is attractive but damn. You find his eyes and his are already on you. He’s not necessarily glaring but you didn’t realize accidentally stepping on someone’s foot was this offensive. 

His eyes narrow at you before releasing a long breath, “Instead of being sorry you should use your eyes.” He’s cold with a harden expression on his face. Lips turned down. 

“It was literally an accident.” You say, trying to understand this guys problem. “So what? I’m not supposed to apologize?”

“You can do what you want.” He dismisses you, turning his body towards the girl before smiling at her. Yeah, smiling. Something you weren’t sure he was capable of. “Then why are you taking dance lessons?” He teases her. “It’s just to spend time with me, isn’t it?” 

“You caught me.” The girl laughs into her hand. Then her eyes go to you, “Uh,” She glances around awkwardly, “Are you taking lessons too or?”

“Oh. This is actually my mom’s studio.” You inform her calmly, trying to ignore the way the guy literally rolls his eyes at that. “I’m looking…for…” You look around the room when you spot a guy at the corner. He’s talking to two other people. Tall, handsome and has a sweet smile. “Never mind,” You suddenly smile while sighing. “Found him.” 

You walk across the room to introduce yourself to who you are sure is Taehyung…but your mom could have mentioned how broad his shoulders are! You get closer and his eyes find you and he smiles immediately. Yup, it’s him.

“y/n?” He asks. Well, at least he knows about you. “Your mom said you’d be coming in today! Said I had to have all kinds of good food for you guys. And told me not to show up if I didn’t have your favorite. Choco pies, right?”

“Oh.” You blink at him, surprised. “I do like them, yeah.” 

“Awesome. You guys have a lot of work to do.” Then he leans in to whisper, “No offense, without your mom…it’s a bit of a mess.” 

“Well, I guess we have to do a good job, right?” You smile for him. “When did you start teaching classes here? I didn’t realize my mom hired anyone else.”

He looks taken aback for a second, “What?” 

“Dance—“

“Dance?” He snorts. “Only craft I’m into is food.”

Now it’s your turn to look taken aback, “But she said…wait…who are you?”

“Right.” He snorts again. “Always forgetting people need an introduction. I’m Jin! I met your mom years ago when I started working as a vendor for the festival. I have my own café though. But your mom has me catering sometimes before the festival to give the dancers some good food to regain some energy.” 

“Food…Jin?” You pull your brows together, clearly you were wrong. You quickly glance around the room again before eyes go back to Jin. “You’re…you’re not Taehyung?” 

“Taehyung?” Jin laughs loudly, “Of course not! Is that who you were looking for?”

“Well, yeah.” You nod awkwardly. “I thought you were him, sorry.” You offer a sheepish smile but Jin just waves you off.

“It’s okay. Your mom brags about you all the time so I know what you look like because she’s shown photos. But no, I’m not Taehyung. Didn’t you already meet him?” Jin looks behind you before raising his hand and pointing behind you. “Over there?”

You’re quick to turn around, eyes roaming around the room but you don’t see anyone that could possibly be Taehyung. “No?”

“Taehyung isn’t hard to miss, y/n.” Jin chuckles and he points again. You follow his fingers and it points to—no. 

“That’s….” You turn back to face Jin. Cheeks hot. “That’s Taehyung?”

“The one and only. You guys are working together, right?” 

“Uh…” You shake your head, still confused, “You’re saying that guy? Over there? Is Taehyung? The super mature, handsome dude? That’s supposed to be him?”

“I guess he is handsome.” Jin rolls his eyes. “Anyway, do you want me to introduce you guys? Properly?”

You’re rushing to shake your head, rejecting the offer. “No, no.” You wave your hands around, “That’s okay. I think I can manage.” 

“Alright, well, I’m going to start bringing some things over. Good luck on today’s practice.” 

“Thanks.” You murmur before spinning in your spot and eyeing the man you met earlier. So that’s Taehyung…not what you were expecting. But it’s okay. First impressions don’t have to mean everything. You’ll just properly introduce yourself and things should be fine. Does it sting that apparently you accidentally stepping on his foot means he’s cold with you right before talking to some girl and flirting with her? Maybe. Because it was an accident.

But it’s okay. You move your feet and head back over to where Taehyung stands, hands on that girl’s hips as she tries out some moves. She sucks. You aren’t sure if she genuinely sucks or she just wants Taehyung’s hands on her. Doesn’t look like he’s complaining though.

“Hi.” You stop in front of them and the feeling of being irked only intensifies. Taehyung stops what he’s doing to close his eyes and take a deep breath but then he opens his eyes again and continues what he was doing. He completely ignored you.

“Hi…” You try again. But nothing. You motion your hand in front of his face, “I said hi.”

“Yeah, I have ears and I use them.” He finally mutters before glancing at you. “Unlike you and your eyes.” 

“I said it was an accident.” You try to speak calmly. “Anyway—”

“—And then you’ll want to put your left leg…no your other left leg,” He chuckles, the girl giggling along as he ignores you again to continue his lesson. 

“Wow.” You murmur to yourself. Nodding your head as you try to not to scoff. This guy is going to really start pissing you off. “So anyway, I just came to introduce myself since we will be—”

“—You know, I don’t think I have ever met someone this dense.” Taehyung’s hands leave the girls hips, his voice directed towards her but you know he’s talking about you. “Can you believe it?”

The girl laughs awkwardly, her eyes going to you before she whispers, “Are…are you talking about…”

Finally Taehyung turns to face you fully, his expression looks bored as he eyes you over. “y/n. Yeah, hi. No need for introductions. I know exactly who you are.”

You look at him in disbelief. “You do?” You ask slowly. “Okay.”

Taehyung raises his wrist and looks at his watch, “Wow, an entire hour late. You’re really the pick of the patch, huh?” 

“I just flew in today.” You defend, voice still calm. “My mom didn’t tell me I was supposed to be here until—”

“We have three weeks to make this the best festival dance anyone’s ever seen. But you can’t even show up on time.” Taehyung scoffs, “At least tell me you remember basic steps?”

“Like the ones my mom did in the past?”

“Yup.”

“Um, I think so. It’s been a while so—”

“Sure has, hasn’t it? When was the last time you came home?” He asks, an arrogant atmosphere clouding the area. “Or do you even know?”

“I’m sorry,” You try not to laugh, “Can’t help but sense some tension here.” 

“Oh, the spidey senses work unlike her eyes.” Taehyung tells the girl.

“I’m sorry, do you not like me for some reason?” You finally ask him right out. 

“Yeah, for some reason.” Taehyung dismisses you again, “Anyway, sorry Ida. I got to establish a routine with this one over here,” He motions towards you, “Work with Jimin when he gets here. He can help you.” 

“Oh, Jimin’s coming?” The girl—Ida—brightens before she’s walking to the other side of the room to join a few others. 

“Okay,” He takes another deep breath before facing you. “Show me what you remember.” 

“What?” You take a step back, feeling put on the spot. “I don’t know what I remember! Plus, isn’t it going to be different since we’re doing something…” you gesture between your bodies, “You know, together.”

“You should still know the basics, y/n.” Taehyung rubs his temples, “Don’t tell me you don’t even know that much? I can’t believe you’re Auntie’s daughter.” He looks genuinely disappointed. 

“Just…” Your cheeks feel warm, you try to remain calm but you’re feeling embarrassed. “Just show me, I’m sure I’ll get familiar pretty quickly.” 

Taehyung stares at you, his eyes boring into yours and you don’t let yourself feel intimidated. “Fine.” He finally says, “But if you don’t pick it up quickly, I’m just going to have Ida replace you.”

You scoff at this, “That girl didn’t even know which leg was her left leg.”

“And you don’t know how to use your eyes.” The corner of his lip lifts, “So are you really one to talk?” 

“Just teach me so we can get this over with.”

“Wow, look at you, saying things that I don’t disagree with.” Taehyung deadpans, “You have no idea how much I would also love to get this over with.” 

~

“How is it that you got the basic steps but you don’t know how to work with a freaking partner?” Taehyung groans while rubbing the top of his foot. “How many times are you going to step on me, y/n?”

“It isn’t my fault!” You whine, “We just aren’t in sync.”

“Because you don’t know how to follow my lead.”

“Maybe you aren’t a good leader.”

“Or maybe you don’t know how to listen.”

“You know what,” You plop your bottom on the ground, legs crossing in front of you. “Maybe we just need to take a break.” 

“A break?” Taehyung looks at you incredulously. “We have three-“

“—Yes, three weeks to perfect this dance between us. Yeah, you’ve told me like seven times now.”

“Do I need to say it an eighth for you to get it?” He sits next to you before he’s leaning back, spreading his legs and looking up at the ceiling. “This is a really important year, you know?”

“Because it’s your debut?” You joke. “Now that my mom isn’t the main one?”

“Your mom…” Taehyung sighs out, “Has made the festival special for years…people are going to really feel her absence this year and we have to be good enough as the replacements.” 

Well, someone’s a perfectionist, you think.

“And,” He continues, “She’s going to be a part of that crowd that watches and don’t you want to make her happy? Proud?”

You look down at Taehyung, he’s lying on the dance floor, arms resting behind his head. “Of course I want my mom to feel happy.”

“Then let’s do a good job.” He says. His eyes still on the ceiling and he speaks much more softly. “We can do that much for her.” 

“Okay…” you mumble. “But I think we’ve been at this forever. A break really could be a good thing.” 

Taehyung sits up, his head nodding. “Okay. Let’s head to the botanical garden, where the festival is taking place. Some of the other dancers are there, the group dancers are already practicing on that stage.” 

“Oh. It’s been a while.” You say, beginning to stand when you hear Taehyung chuckle humorlessly.

“Yeah, it has.” 

You glance at him but ignore his snide comment. “Anyway, there’s already festivities at the gardens, right? Like the hay ride and corn maze and whatever.”

Taehyung stands now too, “Don’t forget the most popular thing there.” He laughs a little, “The pumpkin patch. I was thinking of buying a couple to carve.”

“Not a fan.” You say nonchalantly, walking towards the mirrored wall where your bag is lying on the floor.

“Of what?”

“The pumpkin patch.” You shrug. “Pumpkins gross me out.”

“What?” Taehyung narrows his eyes at you, “You can’t be serious. It’s…pumpkins. It’s literally the thing everyone loves most? You can carve them? Paint them? Aren’t you an artist??” 

“Give me a blank canvas, please. Not a gross little pumpkin.”

“Are you really Auntie’s daughter?” Taehyung asks with big eyes, “Your mom loves the pumpkins! I swear she has like 10 outside her house right now.” 

“…How close are you with my mom anyway?” You ask him but he just blinks at you for a few moments before his gaze hardens again and he scoffs.

“A lot closer than you.” He turns to start leaving, “Let’s go.”

~~~

It’s around 8pm when you finally make it back to your house. You’re parked in the driveway, looking around to see a lot of different cars parked around. You don’t remember this street being that busy. You brush it off and open the trunk to pull a few bags of groceries. 

Hands full, because you’ll be damned if you made two trips and struggling to get the front door open. Finally, after a what felt like an eternity of struggling, you manage to get through the door. You announce your arrival in a sing song voice but you stop in your tracks when you see your mom and four other ladies plus one man seated in the living area to the left. “Oh.” You blurt before one of the bags falls to the ground.

“y/n!” Your mom stands with a huge smile, “You’re home already? We just got some coffee started…” She looks around, “My book club.” She finally explains. “We meet pretty often…I hope you don’t mind.”

“We get a little rowdy.” A woman with short silver hair raises a fist up, “We can’t help it.”

“Not rowdy, Soonja. Passionate.” Another lady speaks up. “You’ll scare away a potential new member when you use words like that.”

“So you want me to lie, Eunja?” The first woman, Soonja, asks with a smirk on her lips. “You told me to stop doing that!” 

“I meant when it came to if you actually read the chapter in the book!” Eunja exclaims, “And of course when someone asks how old you are.”

“I’m a woman. I’m supposed to lie about my age once my hair turns gray.” She waves her off, “Plus you’re the real liar. You dye your hair black.”

“I do not!” Eunja looks offended, “It’s natural.”

“Psh,”

“You’re y/n?” Another lady with long hair stands from one of the sofas, “Ignore them.” She smiles. “They only know how entertain us. I’m Jiwon.” 

“Oh.” You quickly give her a nod and smile. “Sorry I didn’t mean to interrupt.” 

“You didn’t interrupt.” The man says, “The book was getting boring anyway.”

“I beg to differ!” Another woman speaks up. “You just don’t have the emotional intelligence to understand the depth of this particular chapter.”

“And you do?” He raises a brow at her.

“I can’t believe they’re married.” Soonja scoffs. “Anyway, y/n. Your mom says you’re in town for a little while?”

“Uh, yeah.” Your arms hurt from the groceries you’re carrying. “Probably longer than my mom knows about.” You laugh and you catch your mom’s gaze when she looks confused before she’s smiling gently towards you. 

“You want to stay longer?” she asks.

“We can talk about it later.” You shake your head, still smiling. “Anyway, I should put these away! I’ll leave you all to it.”

“Sounds good!” Your mom calls out as you start making your way to the kitchen. 

It’s after 9pm now. You’re sitting at the humble breakfast table in the kitchen, fingers busy on your laptop as you search up some things. It’s hard to concentrate with the constant banter and laughter happening on the other side of the house. Soonja wasn’t kidding, they are rowdy. You’re starting to wonder if the coffee they’re drinking is spiked. But it sounds like they’re all having fun, including your mom. You’re glad she hasn’t been lonely.

That was the main thing holding you back from moving far away to pursue your art career. You didn’t want to leave your mom but your mom is the one who urged you to leave. She cheered you on and supported you in ways you’re always going to be grateful for. But seeing how busy she is, gives you comfort that she’s been okay all this time. 

“Wow,” Your mom walks into the kitchen after finally seeing her last guest out. “You know our book club is supposed to end at 8:30?! But I swear everyone loses their ability to read time once we’re together.” She laughs as she takes a seat next to you at the table.

You look at her with soft eyes, “I think I heard you guys talk about the book maybe twice.”

“Hey,” Your mom shushes you, “Don’t you know the book is only half the fun?”

“Half? That’s a little generous, don’t you think?” You tease your mom and she just laughs it off.

“They’re a fun group, huh?”

“Seems like it.” You agree with her, “When did this start?”

“Hmm maybe what? Four years ago?” She wonders and you feel your guilt deepen. Damn, how long has it been since you’ve returned here? You didn’t even know about this book club.

“Oh. Nice.” You murmur. “Oh yeah. I kind of, uh…well, I was thinking of staying for a while.”

Your moms face brightens, “How long is a while?”

“Maybe just 6 months or so. I think some time home could be good.” You admit to her and she softens.

“Of course. Whatever is going to make you happy, y/n. I know the house is a little cramped but we can make it work!”

“Actually, about that.” You eye her carefully. “I was thinking of getting my own place? Nearby, of course. But—”

“Of course!” Your mom cuts in, excited. “Your own space and privacy is very important. I know a few places around that offer short leases. I know you said money was tight so I will help in all the ways.” She grins at you. “In fact, I know a perfect place!”

“You do?” You widen your eyes, “For real?”

“Yes!” She reaches across the table for a sticky note and a pen and starts scribbling. “I know the landlord here so maybe he can offer something more affordable. And we can get some help to move your bedroom furniture and I have other furniture in storage from years ago!” She looks up at you, “You’ll have your own place in no time.”

“Oh, okay.” You blink at her, “This was easier than I thought.”

“Nothing should be hard, my love.” Your mom grabs your hand, “Mom will always help.” 

You pout at her for a second, lips jutted out cutely and she just squeezes your hand. “Mom.” You playfully whine, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, y/n. But knowing you’ve been living for you…nothing makes me happier.” 

“I don’t know how true that is.” You laugh a little, “It’s not exactly going great.”

“What’s the problem?”

“Nothing I make is…good.”

“I’m sure that’s not true…”

“It is.” You chuckle, “I make something I think might be good but in the end I’m told that it’s not. At least I’m still selling some stuff. Someone out there must have bad taste.” You shake your head, still laughing. 

“I beg to differ. Your art is gorgeous.”

“You’re my mom.” You deadpan, then you sigh out heavily. “I just don’t think I’m in the mindset…a break is probably good, right?”

“Yeah.” She squeezes your hand again, “A change in scenery too. Maybe you’ll get inspired again. Sometimes you need changes to keep you going and to keep things evolving. When you stay in the same place for so long it can get stagnant, huh?”

“Yeah, maybe that’s it.” You shrug. “Anyway, I’ll go check out this complex tomorrow after rehearsal.” You take the sticky note.

Your mom’s eyes expand before she’s pinching your arm, “Speaking of! How did it go? You met with Taehyung, right? Such a good guy, isn’t he?”

“Uh.” You glance around, lip stuck between your teeth as you try to answer this without crushing your mother’s dreams. “He’s…something.”

“He really is something isn’t he?” She pats your shoulder now, “Be good to him, okay?”

~~~

Ha, bright and early…okay, 11am…but its two hours before the rehearsal meeting time and you cannot wait to see Taehyung walk in and see the inevitable look of shock on his face when he sees you. You’ve decided to come early so you can practice alone, you know, get a head start and also show how serious you are about this festival dance. He isn’t the only one who wants to make your mom smile because you guys are doing her role justice. 

You’ve already stretched and done a few warm up dances and it feels good, honestly. Empty practice room and a set goal in mind. Prove to Taehyung you’re not some lazy, incompetent daughter who doesn’t deserve to fill this role for your mom. Believe it or not, you actually used to be pretty skilled with dancing. Makes sense, you were a part of your mothers dance classes since you could walk. But sometime in middle school you stopped attending because your mom enrolled you in your true passion—art classes. 

It's almost 12 when you hear the footsteps of someone coming through. You turn your head to the side while doing some forward folding exercises when you see Taehyung making his way into the room. You sit up straight, a smirk so close to forming, waiting for him to express his genuine shock that you’re here and all the praises that come with it. But he only pauses for a moment, empty eyes on you before looking away and walking towards the mirrored wall to set his bag down. 

Nothing. No reaction. No readable expression. Literally nothing. You’re trying not to slump your shoulders but it’s hard not to hide your disappointment and you’re starting to wonder if you’ve always been a people pleaser. “Hey.” You mutter quietly, body folding forward again as you cup your toes in your hands. “You’re here early.”

“I like to come before everyone else to be alone.” He tells you while pulling a bottle of water from his bag. “But I guess that’s not happening.” 

You decide to stand and walk towards him, hands on your hip as you sigh out in defeat, “Look,” You try to look at his eyes but he will barely look at you. “My mom thinks we’re naturally going to, and I quote, ‘hit it off’ and we clearly aren’t. But for her sake I am trying to get along with you despite the fact you’re being,” You gesture towards him knowingly. “And she’s coming to the studio today to check things out so it would be great if you could act like you don’t hate me while she’s here.”

Taehyung stares at himself in the mirror, his own look of defeat gracing his features before he releases a long breath and turning to face you. “I don’t think I hate you.” He tells you quietly, a small shrug before he continues. “At least you’re here so it’s something. But getting along is an entirely different thing. But yeah, for your mom, I’ll be not so…” He gestures towards himself the same way you did to him just a second ago. “Cool?” He gives you a slightly annoyed look before brushing past you. “Let’s start practicing our dance. And if you step on my toes—”

“—I won’t! Seriously. But at least learn to treat what we’re doing as teamwork.”

“Teamwork?” He whips his head in your direction with a raised brow. “I lead. You follow.”

“That’s still teamwork, dumbass.” 

“Oh? Are we name calling now?” He asks you, his expression is still hardened and barely readable but the sound of his voice almost sounds amused. “What should I call you then? Something you’d really hate, right?”

“Say anything disrespectful like bitch and I’ll kick you—”

“Pumpkin.” He says the word slowly. “It works doesn’t it?”

“That’s…” Your expression tells all. A serious look of disturbance. “That’s somehow actually worse.”

“Perfect.” He grins at you. Yes, his lips have managed to lift up in your presence. But it’s menacing. “Then let’s start practicing now. Pumpkin.” 

You shudder at the hideous name, “You’re just not a good person, are you?”

“Do I need to be?” He asks before he’s stretching. “Also,” he lifts his head to gaze at you with curious eyes. “What did your mom mean by ‘hit it off’?” 

You feel heat creep up your body. Embarrassment. “Uh, like get along, I guess.” 

“Interesting.” He murmurs. “Different from what she usually says.”

“And what does she usually say?”

“That we should—”

“—Guess who comes bearing gifts!” Jin suddenly walks through with a few brown paper bags. “I made an assortment of fruit tarts for you guys today. Dropping them off a little early since it’s Saturday and the café gets busy. Going to put them in the fridge in the back!” He sings out, walking past you two. 

“I didn’t even hear him come in?” You wonder out loud.

“He’s sneaky like that.” Taehyung chuckles, “Anyway, you all warmed up? Ready to start?”

~

“Fine,” Taehyung sits down out of breath, “I’ll admit it, okay? Is that what you want?”

You stand in front of him, smirk on your lips with a look of pride. “Yes.”

“Fine. You improved. You’re a fast learner. You’re the best, jeez, what else do you want from me? Didn’t I say I lead and you follow?” He wipes some sweat from his hairline. “I felt like your little mistress, helpless in your arms while you spun me around.”

“That’s,” You start laughing, “That’s oddly specific.”

“Because it was a specific feeling. And god, it was odd.” He pretends to get the chills. “Anyway, your mom is going to be pleased with this progress. When did she say she was going to swing by?”

“I think around 4?” You glance around the busy room of others trying to rehearse their parts as well. “Not sure the time though.”

Taehyung looks at his watch, “It’s almost 4.” He lets you know, “We can take a break for a minute. Jin’s fruit tarts?” He nods towards the back. “They’re delicious.”

“Oh,” You’re surprised. Like he wants to eat them together? “Sure.” 

You both head towards a back room that has a few tables and the fridge. Taehyung pulls out two of the fruit tarts and hands you one. “The cream he uses is just…” He rolls his eyes in satisfaction. “Try it.”

You take a bite of it and moan into the treat. 

Taehyung’s eyebrows rise towards his hairline, trying his best not to laugh. “I mean, I knew they were good. But damn, that good?”

“Hi!” You hear the voice of your mom suddenly, you spin in your spot to see her coming inside the room. “I was told you two were back here! Enjoying a snack?”

“Auntie!” Taehyung lights up like he’s 8 years old and it’s time to open presents at his super hero themed birthday party. He goes up to your mom and hugs her, rocking her around while she pats his back.

“Hi Taehyung.” She steps back from him, “Are you eating well?”

“Yeah, I still have some side dishes you made stored away in my fridge.”

“Oh good!” She clasps her hands together. “Anyway,” She glances at the both of you, “It feels great to see you both in the same room!” 

“Mom…” You look at her unenthused.

“What?” She blinks at you innocently. “I know Taehyung agrees.” She winks at him but he starts to look how you’re feeling.

“Auntie…” Now he’s quietly groaning in his spot, also silently scolding her. “Have you been resting well?”

“Oh, you worry too much.” She’s shaking her head and waving him off. “But listen, I was thinking…”

“Thinking about what?” You take another bite of the fruit tart.

“If you wanted to make some money since you’re going to find a place…” She taps her chin thoughtfully. “Why don’t you teach some classes here? You and Taehyung can split the days and lessons. He’s swamped since I’m not as involved.”

“Auntie, it’s okay.” He tells her quickly. “I’m handling it.”

“I know you are.” She assures him with a smile. “But you’re over worked. And y/n knows enough to teach some lower level classes while you handle the more challenging ones?” 

“Well…” He bites his lips, recalling how good you were just 10 minutes ago. “Yeah, she probably could…I mean, if she wanted.”

“You’re not involved anymore?” You lower the fruit tart from your mouth. “Like at all?”

“No, I am. But I’m just so tired these days.” She continues to smile, “It’s hard to keep up with lessons when kids are running around me and I got to chase after them.” She laughs now. “But Taehyung is just great with them.”

Taehyung shrugs at this while giving your mom a sheepish smile. “It’s nothing really.”

“Oh.” Your eyebrows slightly furrow. “Sorry you aren’t as involved mom…I know this place is everything to you.”

Your mom softens at your words before she steps closer and cups your cheek, “No, not everything.” 

“Well,” You glance between her and Taehyung before nodding. “I can help out, sure, that’s a good idea. You won’t mind…right, Taehyung?”

“I thought my name was dumbass?” He tries to keep a straight face when you widen your eyes at him. “But sure. It sounds great. Pumpkin.”

~~~

It’s a small apartment complex. But Mr. Jung has shown you one of his available units and it’s exactly what you’re needing. Something simple and cozy. You look down at your list of requirements and see that you’ve checked off every single thing on the list.

“I like it.” You tell Mr. Jung. “When is the soonest I could move in…?”

“Well,” He closes the apartment door behind him as you two stand outside. “It might take a few days for everything to be approved but perhaps Thursday or Friday.”

“Oh!” You feel excitement rush through you. “That’s so soon.” 

“You are applying for a 6 month lease, correct?”

“Yes. I’m only in town temporarily.”

“That’s great. I’ve been looking for someone to fill this unit. Last tenant moved out almost 4 months ago!”

“I guess it was just meant to be then.” You smile. “Thanks for making time to show me around today.”

“Of course.” He smiles back at you. “When your mom called, I just couldn’t say no to an old friend.” 

And that’s how you got your temporary cozy apartment. Mr. Jung called you on Tuesday letting you know you’ve been approved and could move in on Thursday. And Thursday came fast. Jin and two of his friends helped you move furniture and helped you get settled into your new place. Taehyung couldn’t help since he was giving lessons at the studio all day. Not that he was wanting to help you. But you can tell he would give your mom a hand whenever she would ask.

Every time you think Taehyung could be warming up to you, you are just proven how wrong that assumption is. He’s given you nothing. Just talks about your dance routine, fake kindness when your mom is around and the annoying use of the word pumpkin. Other than that he ignores you.

It’s now Wednesday and approximately a week and a half until the festival. Exactly ten days and you’re wondering if you and Taehyung are ever going to master being in sync. You’re both decently skilled—him more than you—but you can’t seem to dance together. It’s probably the lack of proper communication…it’s mostly just annoyed looks and snarky comments. Or straight up complaining. 

You’ve taught a few classes today and your mom was right…chasing after a bunch of 6 year old’s is exhausting. But Taehyung asked if you guys could have a late rehearsal since he’s also teaching classes today. Neither of you had a chance to rehearse yesterday and you cannot fall behind. 

It’s almost 9 at night when Taehyung drags his feet into the empty practice room. He looks tired and you get it. You’re also tired. “Do you think we could get through the routine a few times without fucking up?” He chuckles quietly to himself. “Because I highly doubt it.”

“Well, if you’d actually listen to me and get in sync with me then maybe we could.” You retort quickly, not loving his attitude already.

“So it’s my fault I can’t get along with you?” He exhales tiredly, “Think you managed that on your own.”

You can’t help the scoff that leaves you, “Wow, Taehyung. Thought we were talking about dancing.”

“Whatever.”

“I’m tired of this.” You shake your head, words leaving you quietly in a mumble. “Why are you in such a bad mood?”

“I’ve had a long day.” He tells you. “Classes, errands, making sure things at the gardens is being properly set up—I’m everywhere all at once. Between the studio, the pharmacy—I just need to relax but instead I’m here with you and in a cycle of sucking at this routine. Because you can’t let me fucking lead. It’s not that hard. The entire beginning of our dance we’re not even touching, just have to be synchronized.” 

“And when we do have to touch you don’t even commit.” You say with a straight face. “I don’t know what I’ve done—”

“—You’ve done nothing.” He narrows his eyes at you. “And don’t you think that’s the issue?”

“What?” You look at him incredulously. “I seriously don’t fucking understand you. But look, we both want to do a good job, right?”

“Obviously.” He grunts, annoyed that this conversation is still going.

“Then get over your stupid disdain for me and dance with me.” 

Taehyung is quiet. He’s got a frown pulling down his lips, lips that won’t part to speak. His jaw clenches before he nods at you. Silent dancing, it is.

~

It’s the next day and you’re feeling happy that your last class ended at 3pm today. You know Taehyung has his last one until 4 so you’re sure he’s relieved about that as well. This dance has the both of you stressed out. After running a few errands around town, you finally make it back home to your apartment complex. 

You curse to yourself though…your frustration building as you stand outside your front door. The key code isn’t working again. You keep entering the code but nope, nothing. 

“You have to press the check mark.” A voice suddenly has you jumping in your spot. You’re quick to turn around, eyes going wide as Taehyung looks down at the number pad. “You didn’t press it. Are you seriously only remembering sometimes?”

“You freaking scared me!” You whisper shout at him. “What—what are you doing here?”

He glances around before answering you, “Uh, helping you?”

“No,” You shake your head, “I mean…like, what are you doing here? At my apartment?”

“You think you’re the only one who lives here?” 

“Huh?”

He looks the left and then points, “My apartment is like 3 doors down.” He tells you all nonchalant. 

“Your what…” Then realization hits you. “Mom.”

“I saw you struggling for like a solid 5 minutes.” His lips start to lift into a sly smile. “I was wondering how long you’d keep going but it was a bit sad.”

“You watched me struggle for 5 minutes and didn’t come help me?”

“Well, I’m here now.” He shrugs.

“After 5 minutes?”

“Should I have waited until after 10?”

“You. Are. The. Worst.” 

“It’s fine if it’s you who thinks that.” He shrugs again, “Anyway, the check mark. Not that hard Einstein.”

“Not that hard Einstein.” You mock him. 

Taehyung rolls his eyes and gives you a tiny salute before he is about to turn away from you to head to his apartment but stops. He looks down at his front pocket, patting his jeans until he is pulling his phone out and you watch as his expression grows serious.

“Hello?” He answers the phone quickly. “Yes this is he.” And then his face starts paling and he finds your eyes. “Got it. I’ll be there as soon as possible.” You stare at him in confusion when he grabs your wrist and starts pulling you. “We have to go.” 

You want to pull back from him and simply ask what’s going on but the look of sheer panic on his face is enough to make you lose words. He tightens his grip around your wrist and walks quickly and you’re struggling to keep up with him. “Slow down.” You whine a bit, “Where are we going?”

“That was the hospital.” He says in a rush. “Put your seatbelt on.” He says the moment you two make it to his car. 

“The hospital?” You ask cluelessly as you open the passenger car door and slip inside. “Why? Is everything okay?”

Taehyung plops down into the driver’s seat and starts the engine. “It was the hospital. What do you think?” He asks you curtly, “Seatbelt. Now.” He looks at you before he’s reversing from his parking spot.

“I’m confused. Is everything okay? Why did the hospital call you?”

Taehyung is breathing more heavily now, the situation stressing him out but he still finds the time to snap his head in your direction and look at you with disbelief. “Your mom.” He clarifies, hoping that is enough for you to understand.

“My…my mom?” Now you feel some of his panic start to seep into your own body. “Is she okay? Did something happen?”

“She collapsed.” He tells you, eyes on the road. 

“Collapsed? Why would she collapse? Did she trip on something?” You start feeling anxious, “Was she in some kind of accident?”

Taehyung’s brows pinch together, his own confusion growing as he sees how you’re panicking, you keep voicing your thoughts out loud as you wonder why.

“Wait,” You shake your head, pausing all the possibilities of what could have happened. “Why did they call you?”

“I’m her contact.” He tries to remain calm, “They always call me.”

“…Always?” 

Taehyung’s expression grows more confused until he isn’t confused anymore. He thinks he finally gets it. He thinks he’s finally understanding. He’s quiet.

“Always?” You repeat. “What does that mean?”

He keeps driving. Eyes on the road but suddenly he’s experiencing his heart sinking for what feels like the millionth time in his life. He pulls into the hospital and parks his car. He unbuckles the seatbelt and slowly turns in your direction. You look lost. And he thinks it’s because you are.

“y/n…” He says your name carefully. “Fuck…” He sighs out, “Do you not…”

“What?” You’re losing patience as you’re thinking of all the worst possibilities. “What’s happening? Is my mom okay? Did they say she was okay? Was it an accident?”

Taehyung gazes at you, eyes beginning to fill with pity. And then he’s dragging a hand down his face before he tries to speak again. “y/n…your mom…shit, okay. Listen, it’s…”

“Can you actually talk?” You snap at him. “You aren’t saying anything.”

“Your mom is sick.” He blurts it out quickly. And when you stare at him with a blank expression he softens in his spot. “…didn’t you know?”

“Know what?” You murmur.

“She’s…your mom is really sick. She has been for…since before I graduated, I think? She didn’t tell me until a couple years after.” He admits to you. “But…did you not know?”

“I…” You keep staring at him, not entirely sure you understand. “I don’t really know what you’re saying.” 

“Shit,” He closes his eyes, “Shit. Shit. I’m so sorry…” He lifts his hands to his face and rubs it over and over. “Fuck, I really didn’t know you didn’t…”

“Taehyung.” You say his name but your voice cracks. “I don’t really…” You’re in shock. You aren’t sure you’re processing what he’s saying. “What does sick mean…?”

“She…she has ALS.” He says softly, “They aren’t expec—”

“—What is that?” You continue to panic, “I don’t know what that is.” 

Taehyung feels his eyes sting, his heart breaking more. You really didn’t know. He tries to swallow before he answers, “It’s uh, It’s called Lou Gehrig’s Disease…it’s rare. Um, it’s like a nervous system disease and,” He pauses, trying to collect himself. “Fuck it’s uh, it like weakens the muscles so it’—it can be tough for her.”

“…Okay? So what does she need? Physical therapy?” You ask him, your eyes searching his and he wants to tell you that yes, she just needs physical therapy. But that’s not how this works.

“It’s…it’s not that simple…it can’t be cured.” He tells you regretfully, “I know since you’ve been here she’s been seeming okay. But it typically isn’t like this. There’s more bad days than good.”

“What?” You blink your eyes repeatedly, layer of tears forming.

“Sometimes she can’t even eat properly…it’s…it’s gotten worse this year. The doctors don’t think she will…”

“Will what?” You ask, your defenses rising.

“She doesn’t have a lot of time, y/n.” He tells you quietly, softly, regret in his voice and you don’t think you heard him properly. But you did. And that’s why you’re finally letting tears begin to drip from your eyes. “Hey,” He hesitates but his fingers brush against your cheek, “I know this isn’t easy. But your mom has been so strong and she’s just tired now, y/n…they didn’t even think she was going to live past 5 years—“

“—Stop” You cut him off, tears still spilling from your eyes but you can’t even blink now. “Just stop…she’s sick? She didn’t tell me?” You look into his eyes and he can see your anger. “She told you but not me?”

“I know,” He doesn’t move his fingers from your face. “I know. But…she probably just didn’t want to worry you or something, I don’t know. But she has her reasons, don’t you think? You are your mom’s world.” He whispers. “And right now she just needs you next to her.”

You finally slam your eyes shut, more tears streaming but you try to hold it together. “She’s here?” You choke out. “Can we see her?”

“Yeah.” Taehyung finally lets his hand drop. “Come on.” 

~

You want to be angry because you are angry…technically. But more than anything you’re shocked and just completely sad. Taehyung walks close to you, his arm brushing against yours and he keeps glancing at your every 5 seconds. He’s worried and you almost want to laugh because you never thought that there would be a day that he would be worried about you.

He stops suddenly, his hand reaching for your wrist to stop you from walking as well. “This room.” He tells you softly, “It’s here.”

“Oh.” You look at the closed door.

“You want to go in alone?”

“No.” You shake your head slowly, “Be with me.”

“Okay.” He nods, his fingers still wrapped around your wrist when he guides you more towards the door. He uses his other hand to knock at the door before cracking it open. After a moment he opens it all the way. His eyes grow tender when he spots your mom. “Hi Auntie.” 

You just watch him. He looks experienced. Like looking at your mom who lays in a hospital bed isn’t something new and the thought makes you feel crushed. You finally gather your own courage and step through the room and look at her for yourself. 

Your mom is sat up in bed and you want to sob. Because she looks the same. A gentle smile on her face and eyes that shine with so much love. “Hi, my love.” She calls out for you. “Come here.”

Taehyung lets go of your wrist and your feet stumble forward. You don’t think you see even an ounce of regret on her features. She just looks genuinely happy to see you and you can’t tell how you feel about it.

“You okay?” She asks you, her head titled up. “I know this might be a little surprising.”

You actually scoff. “A little?” You repeat her choice of words before scrunching your brows together and you know she can see the look of betrayal on your face.

“It’s okay if you’re mad.” She tells you, tone nice and soothing. “I’m fine with the decisions I’ve made.”

“How…” You pause to take a deep breath. “How could you say that?”

“I want you to live your life, y/n.” She tells you like it’s simple. “I wanted you to live your dream but if you knew…” She closes her eyes for a moment, her own emotions visiting. “I didn’t want to be a reason for you to hold yourself back.” She tells you. 

Taehyung watches as you stare down at your mom and he’s understanding so much now. He feels guilty. Beyond guilty. He’s treated you like such an asshole. But he thought you knew about your mom’s condition and still chose to be so far away. He had no idea you were clueless. It hurts to watch your mom having to had suffer for so long already but now he sees how you’re suffering too. 

“So we are going to keep her a few days.” The doctor neither you nor Taehyung noticed speaks up. “You know the drill already Mr. Kim…we need to monitor just for a bit.”

Taehyung glances at the doctor before nodding. “Okay. I can go grab a bag for her.” He says, “I shouldn’t be gone too long.”

“No,” You turn to look at Taehyung, your eyes shining at him with unfallen tears. “I’ll go. I just need to make a bag for her, right? Some of her things?”

“Oh.” Taehyung’s eyes go to your mom and she just nods. “Okay…are you sure? I can go, y/n.”

“I want to go…I need to just…process.” You admit to him as you walk closer to him, “Alone.”

~

You’re standing in front of your childhood home again but the mix of emotions you’re feeling are nothing like the ones from the other week. You almost don’t even want to walk in but well, you have to.

As soon as you step into the house, instead of the scent of cookies, you get hit hard with the scent of your mother. You walk further into the home and it’s like she is everywhere. You’re suddenly hyperaware of how this house is not just a house but your mom’s home. 

You walk down the hall and stop outside your mom’s bedroom door. You don’t think you’ve been in here for years but you’re sure you’ll manage finding her belongings. You creak the door open and your eyes go wide when you enter the room. You look around, from her comforter to her nightstand to the art on her walls. And your face twists into one of devastation. Mouth hanging open as the tears truly break. Your art. Your paintings. They hang on her walls.

And this is the reality. Paintings that you knew weren’t good enough. But bought by an anonymous buyer…here they are, proudly decorating her room. And this reality crashes into you. Feeling every ounce of every moment you have spent away from her. From your home.

You stumble towards her bed, body falling to the mattress and you bury your face into the blanket. Tears soaking the material as you sob. You cry until you can’t cry anymore.

~~~

The house feels lonely since your mom is still at the hospital. It’s Saturday now and you know you have to get up from this bed and drag your sad ass to the studio to rehearse with Taehyung. But getting up sounds like a lot of work. You wish you could quit the entire festival but you realize now why Taehyung has made such a big deal out of it. He isn’t being a perfectionist because it’s his debut. He just wants to give your mom the best festival because it will probably be her last.

That last thought makes you heart sink but this is the reality and you aren’t sure you want to spend your time sulking and wasting precious time on things you cannot control. Instead, you finally throw the blanket off you and get ready. Because your mom deserves the best festival of her life. 

You’re sure the studio is busy as usual, you’re a bit late but Taehyung didn’t try to reach out to you so maybe he’s distracted enough with a pretty girl who doesn’t know left from right. But you’re wrong. As soon as you walk into the building, you see Taehyung sitting at the front desk before he lifts his head and wide eyes land on you.

“You came?” The two words tumble out quickly. He stands from the chair and walks around the desk to get closer to you. “I…” His eyes slide to the side, “I wasn’t sure you were going to be up to rehearsing today.”

“You’d chew me out if I didn’t show up.” You shrug at him, eyes still swollen. “Don’t need to add to the list of things you don’t approve of me.”

Taehyung sucks his bottom lip between his teeth as an inevitable look of guilt falls over his face. “I don’t…” He pauses, eyes studying you and he realizes he’s probably lost any chance of redeeming himself. You don’t like him and it serves him right. 

“We can take it easy today if you—”

“—that’s the last thing I want.” You show him a joyless smile. “I’d rather work extra hard. I don’t know,” you give a huge, exaggerated shrug. “Maybe work so hard I pass out and actually get a little sleep.” 

“No passing out.” Taehyung lifts his lips a little, “But you know, if you’re having trouble sleeping maybe I could he—”

He stops when he sees how you raise a defensive brow, “How could you possibly help? Look, no need to suddenly be nice to me because my mom’s dying.”

“y/n… I wasn’t—”

“—Actually, you knew about that already so why are you suddenly being nice to me?” You narrow your eyes for a moment but he’s lost for words, not entirely sure what to say and then you connect the dots. “Right.” You click your tongue. “You thought I knew about her being sick, right? You thought I was just some selfish daughter who didn’t care about my mom’s health and left her to live my life!” 

“y/n—”

“—Like, wow. You didn’t even give me a chance. You just automatically assumed I was some selfish, heartless person. You wanted me to be like that in your eyes?” You continue to glare at him but he immediately parts his lips in panic.

“No! Trust me, no.” He shakes his head as he gazes at you. “Trust me, the last thing I wanted was to think that way of you.” Then he lightly scoffs to himself, “I didn’t want to disappointment my 12 year old self like that.” 

You pull your brows together, “You didn’t want to…what?” and then you shake your head, feeling tired all over again. “Anyway, let’s just practice. I also…” You finally find his eyes again before expressing your mental defeat. “I also want to do well.”

~

Monday and you’re panicking because the day of the festival dance is only 5 days away. You don’t think you and Taehyung have improved your synchronization. When you guys do moves that require him to have his hands on you, he’s always hesitant and it looks painfully awkward.

“Have you never touched a girl before?” You finally huff out, getting frustrated over another failed attempt at the routine. “This isn’t middle school.”

“I just…” He groans, feeling just as frustrated as you. “It’s kind of hard.”

“Yeah, a woman’s waist is really the most difficult thing.” You roll your eyes before jogging towards the mirror to grab your bottle of water. 

“We haven’t as much as high fived before, y/n.” Taehyung deadpans. “How am I supposed to feel comfortable touching your body? When I don’t know what’s comfortable for you either?”

“Are you really overthinking this much?” You look at him incredulously before bringing the bottle to your lips and chugging the water back and then you pause and pull the bottle away from your mouth. “You had zero issue grabbing onto Ida’s hips when you helped her.”

“Ida is into me. She wants me to touch her like that.” He shrugs, “You on the other hand, I’m afraid I’ll…” Taehyung’s eyes go all around the practice room, cheeks heating up. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” 

“You’re that worried about it?” You set the bottle down. “Fine. Okay.” You nod, look of determination on your face. “Let’s fix that then. If we don’t this is going to look awkward as hell.”

“Fix it how?” Taehyung looks at you, confused.

“Let’s get comfortable with one another. We could do some exercises to help.” 

He raises his brows, mouth opening to speak but he closes it again.

“What?” You walk back to the middle of the practice room, standing in front of him, “Don’t tell me you can’t even do that?”

“I don’t even know what that is? Like, what do you mean?” He finally asks.

“Oh.” You realize you don’t necessarily know either, you were just going to wing it. You glance around the room until your eyes land on your hand. You lift it to your face and inspect it before you nod. “This.” You say before showing him your palm, urging him to hit it with his own. “You said we hadn’t as much as high-fived before.” You finally smile. “We could start there.”

He stares at you before he’s snorting. “Seriously?”

“What?” You smirk at him, “Should I have asked you to just hold on to my waist until it finally feels comfortable for us?”

And for the first time ever you think you see Taehyung blush. “You’re something…” He looks off to the side, “But honestly,” His eyes go back to you. “I think we could start with talking.”

“Talking?” You lower your hand. “About?”

“I want to apologize.” He tells you sincerely. “I know even if I try to explain my thought process it doesn’t excuse how cold I was with you.”

“Not really.” You whisper. “I guess I just don’t like how you assumed I was so heart—“

“—I didn’t want to think that, I promise. But after a while, I kept battling my thoughts. How could you not have known? That’s what I kept asking myself. Why would Auntie just not tell you? That didn’t ever cross my mind so eventually I thought…yeah, obviously y/n knows but she doesn’t care. I wasn’t just dismissing you. I was mad at you.” He takes a breath, “Because I didn’t want my opinion of you to be true.” 

Taehyung takes a step closer to you before adding, “But I was shocked you showed up for the festival this year. Your mom told me she asked you to come and I didn’t think you would…but you did. And I wanted to just be angry but I hated it that you actually showed up because I was like, maybe I was wrong and she does care…that sounds stupid, I know you care but I just thought you…I don’t know.” His voice gets quieter. “I was wrong. But I don’t know if I’m happy that I was wrong. Because it means that you didn’t know about your mom’s health and that also feels fucking sucky. I’m sorry you didn’t know, y/n.” 

For the first time you see the Taehyung your mom has been raving about. The guy that is just so good. You think you can believe it. You think this might the real him and you want to understand his perspective. To be fair, if you thought that of someone you would probably be a dick to them too. 

He studies your reaction and when he sees even a hint of understanding in your eyes, he sighs in relief. “Anyway,” He reaches for your hand and high fives himself with it. “What’s after a high five?”

~

Thursday. Two days until the festival dance. Today’s rehearsal went better. Might have been your best one yet…you and Taehyung are communicating better and although he’s still a little stiff with touching you at least he’s actually touching you. Before he would barely put any pressure and it sometimes felt like his hands were just hovering. It still isn’t perfect yet though.

“Hi.” Your mom comes into the kitchen, her eyes soften when she sees how you lift your head from your laptop with a tired expression. She came home from the hospital yesterday and it’s hard to stay mad at her when she looks at you with so much love.

“Hi.” You respond, it came out quiet but she heard you and smiles.

“How’s rehearsals going?” She takes a seat, hand going to yours and you see how her fingers slightly shake as she squeezes your hand. How did you not notice?

“Better.” You look away from your hands, “Taehyung and I are trying our best but we could do better.”

“Better?” Your mom tilts her head, “You don’t feel good enough?”

“Not really.” You smile. “We want it to be perfect. We have to do your role justice.”

Your mom’s eyes widen before she’s chuckling, “People are going to love it!”

“We want you to love it.” You admit softly. “I think that’s what matt—”

“—Me?” Your mom points to herself. “You two could get on that stage and just stand there and I think I would fall in love at the sight.” She tells you, “What I want to come out of this isn’t for you two to perfect a dance routine. I just wanted you guys to get along.” 

You snort, “Get along?”

Your mom gazes at you, her eyes boring into yours and you think you see a swirl of emotions inside of them. “Yeah.” She gulps, her same eyes stinging with tears but she’s quick to blink them away and laugh. “Get along.” She says, “And take care of each other.”

“You make it sound like you aren’t the one who takes care of me,” You try to laugh but your throat burns a little. “I have you to do that, you know?” 

“Mom will always help, my love.” She smiles, gentle and delicate. “But—”

“—Okay,” You cut her off, trying to laugh still but your throat feels like it’s closing in. “That doesn’t have to change.”

“And why not?” She continues to smile. “Changes are good. Don’t you think? Just like the season we’re in…we love it. Do we want it to be summer forever?”

“No.” You swallow hard.

“Change gives us the opportunity to transform and evolve. Nothing scary about it.” Your mom’s fingers lift to your face and she brushes her thumb over your browbone. “I’ve always taught you to embrace it. Welcome it. In autumn, leaves change colors and they die. But soon, flowers will bloom again.” 

You’re tempted to let your head fall to this table and cry but the look on your moms face is bright and hopeful. She’s cheering you on as always. So instead you nod at her words and give her a heartfelt smile. “I think you just gave me an idea for a painting.” You tell her. 

“Then paint.” She smiles wider, teeth shown and all. “Paint.”

~

One day until the festival dance! Friday and you cannot believe you and Taehyung are still struggling with being completely comfortable and trusting during the routine. The natural flow is lacking. Perhaps it’s the chemistry. Yes it has gotten better but you didn’t think it would still look awkward in places. It’s already almost 9pm and you both have been at it for majority of the day. 

“I don’t know how else we could improve, Taehyung.” You breathe out, hands reaching for your bottle of water. “Just get comfortable!”

“I’m trying!” Taehyung groans, his fingers push back his dark hair. His hair is usually split in the middle or the side, framing his face nicely but forehead out gives him an entirely different aura.

“What’s making you so, I don’t know…” You motion your hands around, unsure of what words to describe his behavior.

“Nervous?” He helps you call himself out. “I don’t know, you’re just this person to me…who…I don’t know! It’s not like I don’t want to touch you.”

You quirk a brow and he immediately slams his eyes shut before growing embarrassed.

“I didn’t mean that in a…” He opens his eyes again and they meet yours. “You’re just…”

“It’s my fault?” You laugh. “Do I have to break all barriers with you so you can be more comfortable?” You start joking. “Keep your hands on me? Should we hug for 5 minutes straight? God, what will it take?” You snort now, “Don’t tell me we have to have sex so you can touch me properly during a dance.” 

Taehyung’s entire body flushes at your words, his eyes wide as he blinks at you in shock. “I know you’re joking,” He mutters, “But at what cost?” He tears his eyes off of you before concealing a smile when he wants to laugh.

“I was exaggerating obviously.” You shake your head,  not feeling embarrassed even though maybe it was a weird thing to say.

“But…” Taehyung glances around the practice room, “I think the point is to bond so our chemistry on stage doesn’t suck.”

“Are you saying you do want to have sex? As a way to bond?” You ask him with a dramatic shocked expression and he starts going red as he groans at your words.

“You want to kill me, y/n?” He starts chuckling, “Jeez. I was thinking though…we aren’t getting anywhere with practicing. Why don’t we go out tonight?”

“Huh?”

“Bar? For drinks? Loosen up? Actually enjoy an evening out? Ever heard of it?” He teases you, “I doubt you’ve done anything besides be at this studio and visit your mom’s house. And I am kind of your neighbor and I see your light on all the time late at night so I know you aren’t out.”

“What if I leave a light on, on purpose so a potential burglar thinks someone is home? You know, while I go out and party until the sun rises?"

“You party until sunrise without me?” Taehyung gasps, “That’s rude.”

“What?” You bite your lip, trying not to smile at him. “Am I supposed to invite you for something like that?”

“No offense, but who else would you invite? Ida?” He matches your expression.

“I could ask Jin.” You shrug, “He’s cool.”

“Only thing Jin does at sunrise is check on some ridiculous baked goods that he probably started prepping at 4am.” 

“My mom has a pretty wild book club, maybe they want to party with me.” You shrug again and Taehyung laughs at this. Really laughs. 

“Ms. Soonja would outdrink us all and still somehow be up at 8am ready for breakfast.”

“That sounds believable.” You giggle at that. “Fine, I guess if I had to party then maybe I would invite you.”

“You’re too late.” Taehyung grins at you, “Because I’m beating you to it…I’m the one inviting you but I can’t promise it will be until sunrise.”

“Well, I’d hope not. We have a big day tomorrow.” 

“Then we should get started now.” Taehyung nods towards the direction of the entrance, “Since I still feel like an asshole…I’ll buy you your first drink.”

You feel heat crawl up your neck as you notice an almost playful glint in his eyes, “Only one?” You tease him, “For all that I suffered with you and you only want to buy me one?”

“Oh?” He keeps grinning, “You suffered that much? Fine, how about you tell me when it’s finally enough, hm?”

“I can hold my liquor, Taehyung. I might drain your bank account.”

“Damn,” He throws a hand to his heart. “I was that bad?”

“I’m still deciding if you aren’t still that bad.” You say slowly but your voice is laced in a smoothness even you don’t recognize. “But I hear you’re good.” You keep the words slow as they leave your mouth, “I wonder just how good you are.”

~

“You know,” You play with the straw that rests in your glass. “When I was in high school, I wanted to come to this bar so badly. ‘one day I’ll be old enough!’ I would always say that,” You start giggling. “But I left only a few months after graduation so I never came. Can’t believe I’m actually here now. Teenage me would be so proud.”

“Why this one specifically?” Taehyung looks around, not noticing anything too special. “I just come here because it’s close to the apartment.”

“You’ll make fun of me.” You wrap your fingers around the glass and bring it closer to your lips when you sip from the straw. “It’s cheesy.”

“Oh, I have to hear about it then.” Taehyung sips his own drink as well. “The cheesier the better.”

“Well, a long time ago…” You start, memories flooding your mind and you want to laugh at teenage you. “There was this guy.”

“A guy?”

“Yeah.” You nod. “He worked here as a bar tender, he was older than me. I think when I was like 16 he was already like 30.” You sip more of the drink. “He also worked at the convenience store near my house. I would go in just to buy a snack so I could see him!” You turn your head towards Taehyung, stifling your laughter but he’s got his eyes on you and he’s smiling. “But he told me he also worked here, at this bar and that one day when I’m an adult I’ll get to go and see him there too.”

Taehyung ducks his head around, eyes trailing the place. “Is he here?”

You snort “No.” You set your drink down, only ice cubes occupying the glass now. “I thought that when I turned into an adult I’d come and he would fall in love with me.” You gesture towards yourself with a goofy, tipsy grin. “Obviously, right?”

Taehyung eyes you over, same grin on his own face. “Obviously.”

“Kids are silly.” You finally end the story, “The things we do, huh? Or you know, want to do.”

Taehyung sucks up the rest of his drink and nods his head, “Yeah, I would know.” He chuckles before turning his whole body in the barstool to face you. “My 12 year old self would know, anyway.”

“How so?”

“You don’t know how I met your mom, do you?” He asks you, blush on his cheeks. 

“Oh,” You blink at him. “I…I don’t.”

“I thought so.” He nods, head bowed down as he smiles at nothing. “It’s because of the Harvest Festival.”

“Oh, I guess that makes sense!”

“I went every year when I was a kid. I think I started going when I was like 9? I watched the dance and I was…awestruck, perhaps?” He sounds shier than you thought he could be capable of. It’s cute, you’d admit. It’s funny that a guy who made it clear he doesn’t like you is now telling you a story that is making him blush.

“Hm.” You hum at him, giving him your full attention. He lifts his eyes to yours and bites his lip.

“Yeah, awestruck is a good word.” He tells you. “I kept going back every year because I had to see the dance. I would watch and think, ‘wow, pretty.’ And yeah.” He chuckles.

“Her dancing is beautiful.” You giggle. “Kind of sounds like you had a crush on my mom.” You teasingly point a finger at him but he just joins you in your laughter before relaxing and giving you a sweet smile. 

“I did have a crush.” He admits. “ But it wasn’t on your mom.”

You smile drops only a little, “Then…?” “Every year at the front row of the crowd was a girl who looked around my age.” He tries not to laugh when you pinch your brows together. “You.” He does laugh now. “You danced to her routine, step by step. You looked so happy and so proud and I swear my 9 year old self was not understanding what I was feeling.”

“Wait, what?” Your mouth falls open and you cannot hide your amusement. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He tries to playfully brush it off. “And then when I was 12…I decided I had the hugest crush on you and you were going to be my first girlfriend.” 

Your eyes expand comically as you try not to lose it, “Excuse me?”

“I know.” He chuckles, “But I didn’t know how to approach you!” 

“You didn’t—”

“—I had heard you took dance classes at your mom’s studio.” He starts to explain, “So I thought my little 12 year brain was genius when I begged my grandma to let me start taking lessons too. I thought that’s how I could get close to you!” He shuts his eyes in innocent embarrassment. “She paid for three full classes to see if I would like it. I remember getting there, god I was so nervous, I really thought I was going to properly meet you and we were going to fall in love and get married.” Then he winks, gesturing towards himself like you did earlier. “Obviously, right?”

You start cracking up, “Yes, obviously.” 

“But you weren’t there. I was so disappointed. I was like well, I’m going to quit this whole dancing thing. I asked your mom and she said you weren’t taking the classes anymore. Imagine how stupid I felt!” He laughs, “But I still had two more classes. I went and by the third class I realized how much I kind of liked dancing. Your mom urged me to continue and so I did.” He shrugs, “Turns out I wasn’t bad.”

“Does that mean you’re good?” You raise a brow.

“Aren’t you the one trying to figure out how good I am?” He asks you slowly, voice lower than before.

“Touché.” You say just as low. 

“I kept dancing all throughout middle school and high school. I was fairly cool with your mom but things really changed…” Taehyung looks at you, solemn expression on his face. “A few months after high school, my grandmother passed away. And I know that’s technically an adult now, but I still felt like a child.”

“Sorry, Taehyung.” You surprise yourself when you reach for his hand, “That must have been hard.” 

“It was.” He admits with a smile. “Your mom was the one who kind of took me in. She was like a guardian but not legally.” He laughs. “She was like a second mom.” 

“She’s pretty good at being a mom.” You return his smile. “I’m glad you had her…and I’m glad she’s had you all this time too.”

“That’s what family does.” He says it so simply. “I’m sorry again…about…”

“I understand, Taehyung.” You glance down at your hand that rests on his before quickly pulling it back. Cheeks warming up. “By the way, I’m allowed to make fun of you, right? 12 year old you?”

“I would expect you to. I also want to make fun of 12 year old me. But hey, poor guy was just really determined to get you to fall in love with me. We can’t blame 12 year old me for being so romantic, right?”

“Are you still that romantic?” You ask him, eyes on his and he stares at you for a few moments. “I didn’t realize you were this forward.” He decides to tease you instead of answer.

“You never gave me a chance to be.” You crack a smile, “To be fair, a little alcohol running through my veins might make me say weird things.” 

“Good to know.” He chuckles. “What other weird things are you thinking that you might say?”

“You’re curious about what’s on my mind?” 

“I might just be curious in general.” He responds before lifting a hand to get the bar tenders attention, signaling you guys want another round. “About you.”

You gaze at his side profile and feel your stomach twist in a way that feels exciting. “Am I also allowed to make fun of you for hating me and now suddenly you’re curious about me?”

Taehyung lowers his hand and slowly turns his head in your direction with a winsome smile growing on his face, “God, I didn’t know how much you like to teased someone.” 

“What?” You point at yourself innocently. “You’re surprised at what kinds of words leave my mouth?”

“Well—”

“—You’d probably would have known if you would have paid more attention to it.” You point at your lips now. “But you were too concerned about my eyes and how I didn’t know how to use them.”

Taehyung stares at you before sighing out, clearly amused. “I wish I could go back in time and treat you diff—”

“—I don’t.” You grin at him. “Or else I wouldn’t have all this material to make fun of you.” 

The bartender brings the two drinks, the glasses sliding in front of you and Taehyung. He picks his up and you do the same, both of you bringing the glasses together in a little cheers. “This is fun.” You tell him softly.

“Is it?”

“Yeah. I think you were right about letting loose.” You chuckle, “Before coming back home, I was living so stressed. Can’t really remember the last time I winded down.”

“Honestly, me either.” Taehyung sips his drink, eyes on the ice cubes. “But I didn’t think I’d be doing it with my first crush. 12 year old me was so sure we were going to fall in love.” He lifts his eyes to you, same playful glint from earlier. 

“You were so sure yet as an adult you don’t even know to touch me while we dance. 12 year old you might be disappointed.”

Taehyung keeps the glass to his lips and his eyes on you. They darken just the slightest and you notice immediately. 

“You know,” Taehyung finally lowers the glass and licks his lips, “It really almost sounds like you’re flirting with me.”

You crack a smile, fingers wrapping around the glass and you sip on your drink. 

“You’re not going to confirm nor deny?” He asks you, same amusement lingering.

“Maybe I’m just humoring your past self.” You finally say, glass back down to the bar top. “I think it’s only fair that it’s me who is a little mean to you now.”

Taehyung can’t help but laugh at this, his smile turning into something wide and boxy. “Feel free to humor me then.”

~

It’s way past closing time. You and Taehyung are leaving the bar, laughter on your lips, walking out into the parking lot when he suddenly halts his steps. You notice, confused expression when he smirks at you.

“Should we practice our routine one last time today before tomorrow?” He asks you.

“Here?” You glance around. “In the parking lot?”

“Is a parking lot not a good enough stage for you?” He teases and you roll your eyes. “I think we kind of bonded tonight so maybe…”

“Oh, you want to test it.” You feel a warmth trailing across your skin. “Let’s dance then. The second half.”

Taehyung looks excited, his lips spread into a smile but he’s trying to hide it but it’s not use. He’s enjoying himself. And he thinks you are too.

“Okay, ready?” He glances at you when you’re both in starting position. 

“Ready.” 

You both start the first few steps, your breaths are even and your footwork is smooth. You glance at Taehyung and it actually looks like you two are in sync. Well, you imagine so since that part has improved a lot. You’re both counting in your heads, knowing exactly when to transition from one move to another. 

You know what’s coming up but you’re just going to go with the flow, body spinning into a still Taehyung, twirling closer to him and right on cue, his hand lands perfectly on your lower back. It was smooth and you’re already feeling the slight shock and excitement but you stay calm knowing that was just one move.

A beat passes and you both continue the dance, feet moving in sync while your bodies flow together before you’re turning again and both of his hands are on your waist. Both knees slightly bend, faces tucked into your chests as you continue counting in your heads. The silent music continues and so do your movements. 

His fingers don’t dig into your skin, no, they’re just light enough that you can imagine the delicacy that is shown through your movements. You spin out, his arm extending until you’re far from one another, only thing connecting you is your fingertips lightly grasping his. And then he’s pulling you in, your chest coming closer to his. His left hand goes to the back of your neck and his fingers slide down, carefully trailing over the material of your shirt. Like he is painting an outline of your spine. And a sudden thought occurs to you. How would his fingers feel if it was against your bare skin? Then finally, he’s resting his hand on your lower back.

You can still hear the music in your head, the counts still going off and right on beat you tilt your chin towards his face as he lowers his eyes to you and his right hand comes to your jaw. Fingers brushing against it, soft and slow. And then you can hear how the song ends. No more counting. Just your eyes on each other and a feeling swirling so messily in your lower stomach. He is looking as mesmerized as you feel.

“I guess we did bond.” You finally whisper. “Who would have thought?”

~

It’s the day of the festival. The day is finally here and you’re a little nervous but mostly just excited. You and Taehyung decided to ride to the gardens together (perk of being neighbors) and you’ve made your way to where the dances will be occurring later this evening. Everyone’s busy with making sure the stage set up is perfect but mostly, everyone is in good spirits as they hang around.

“Mom!” You light up when you see your mother strolling through the gardens, making her way towards the stage. She’s with Soonja and Eunja, the three of them with their arms linked and stars in their eyes as they look around. 

Your mom sees you, smile bright when her and her friends come closer towards you and Taehyung. “Hi, you two.” She tries not to squeal when she sees the stage and knows that the two of you will be on it later tonight. “How are you both feeling?” She looks between you both, “Confident?”

“A little nervous.” You hide your face in your hands but you smile. “Only a little.”

“I think we finally nailed the routine though.” Taehyung tells your mom, his eyes sliding to yours and you can see a knowing smirk.

“I knew you would!” Your mom cheers excitedly.

“Going to see two good looking people dancing on stage, it might make my heart swoon.” Soonja winks at you.

“Your heart swoons when you see find a coupon.” Eunja rolls her eyes, “Say something more meaningful!”

“Hey!” Soonja’s brows pull together in disapproval. “You think coupons don’t deserve it too?”

“Ignore them.” Your mom chuckles, “You guys have a little while until the dances begin, right? Why are you just standing here?”

You blink at your mom with wide eyes, “What do you mean? What if someone needs help with the stage or—”

“—Oh, please. Go enjoy the rest of the festival.” She pushes you towards Taehyung. “You too, Taehyung. Show my daughter around, it’s been a while.”

“Oh.” Taehyung blushes, “I could do that.”

“Mom.” You groan but she’s insistent.

“Go, go, go. Enjoy.”

“Each other.” Soonja whispers in Eunja’s ear but the other lady swats her arm.

“Have fun!” Your mom waves you off but you haven’t even left yet. Just you and Taehyung staring at these ladies in disbelief. Well, Taehyung is just trying not to laugh.

“Okay, Auntie.” Taehyung finally says, cracking a small smile. “Let’s go, y/n.”

“Fine.” You huff out but you can’t help but smile too. You both wave goodbye to the women before exploring the rest of the festival.

“You’re such a meddler.” Eunja tells your mom.

“Of course I am.” She shrugs, “Who else is going to do it?”

~

You’ve walked around for a while, exploring different vendors and trying delicious foods. Jin’s got a food truck and he is probably the most popular one—you’re realizing that most of his customers are there for him rather than the food. Handsome men have it so easy, you think to yourself.

“So, I know what you’re going to say but…” Taehyung grabs your wrist and starts leading you in another direction, “We can’t have fun at this festival without visiting the main attraction.”

“Oh god.” You know where this is going, “Don’t make me.” You’re pouting now but Taehyung just chuckles and he continues to drag you around.

“How could we not visit the pumpkin patch?” He finally says with a grin.

“Easy.” You shrug and he playfully scoffs at you. “Do we really have to?”

“Yes,” He’s determined. “I know you’re grossed out by them, so no carving. But something that could interest you more?”

And that innocent little suggestion is how you and Taehyung ended up sitting at a table with like 3 others (they’re children.) with tiny little pumpkins rolling around and a whole bunch of different paint. 

“You chose a good one.” You whine when you eye Taehyung’s pumpkin. It isn’t too lumpy so he’s having an easier time painting it. You on the other hand…

“Holy shit.” Taehyung stares down at the pumpkin you’ve been painting. Eyes wide as he tilts his head. “What the hell is…” His words get quieter as he speaks. Slight disturbed expression before he finally looks at you. “I thought you were an artist.” He says with a straight face.

“Art is subjective.” You say with an equally straight face.

He nods, eyes going back down to the monstrosity. “It sure is.” 

“You make me do this…” You narrow your eyes at him, “And then make fun of me?”

“I’m not making fun of you!” Taehyung grins. “It is simply a genuine reaction.”

“I am an excellent painter!”

“Are you?” He teases you, “I don’t—Hey!” He stares at you with big eyes as his fingers go to touch his cheek. “Did you just get paint on me?” He asks.

You smile at him as innocently as possible despite the fact you’re holding the paint brush with a glob of purple paint on the bristles. “No.”

Taehyung’s trying to keep a serious expression on his face even though he wants to laugh. “You really are the pick of the patch, huh?” He shakes his head, fingers wiping at his cheek and he glances down at the paint on his fingers.

 “I don’t know,” You shrug, chuckling before your eyes go back to your own pumpkin. “Are you picking me?” 

“Only if you let me call you pumpkin.”

“Never.”

Taehyung bumps his shoulder into yours, “We should probably head back. The dances will start soon and we have to get ready.”

“Can’t believe the day is finally here.” You sigh out before turning your face towards him. “You think we will do a good job?”

“I think we will make your mom proud.”

~

And you do. Everyone danced so beautifully but there was an audible gasp among the audience when you and Taehyung began your dance. It felt just like the night before in the parking lot of the bar. You two were in perfect sync and his fingers rested and guided your body with grace, delicacy and precision. The last moments you two are on stage, he has his fingers at your jaw and when the lights dim, he slowly brushes them down the expanse of your neck.

“You were really good.” He tells you quietly, eyes still on yours despite the sudden darkness as the audience claps and cheers. “And beautiful.” 

You take a few breaths before your eyes travel across his face, “It kind of feels like you’re the one flirting with me now.”

“And if I am?” His fingers continue to slide down, brushing against your arm until his fingertips touch your own.

“Well,” You laugh a little, finally stepping away from him and facing the audience. “I’d say I like it a lot more than you being rude to me.”

Taehyung faces the audience as well before you both bow, “Then I guess I should keep doing it.”

You and Taehyung make your way off the stage and your first priority is finding your mom and it isn’t hard…she’s front and center with big, teary eyes. She is quick to wrap her frail arms around you, the hug is weak but you feel all the power and love behind it.

“You two were incredible!” She pulls away and then hugs Taehyung as well.

“We tried.” You chuckle, “So I am guessing you liked it?”

“Liked it?! I loved it. It will stay fresh in my memories for the rest of time.” Your mom wipes at her eyes, “You both looked so…”

“Hot.” Soonja says with a smile. “That was one hell of a dance.”

“Soonja!” Eunja scolds her, “She’s vulgar,” She looks at you and Taehyung now. “She means to say—”

“—You’re right.” Soonja nods. “Hot wasn’t the right word. Sexy.”

“I give up on you.”

“About time.”

“Thanks, thank you.” You look between the ladies, cheeks warm. “I mean, I think.”

“I’d say it was a compliment.” Taehyung bumps into your side. “It’s gotten late, huh?”

“Yes.” Your mom agrees, “We are about to head home now…but wow, what a successful year, wasn’t it?” She smiles at you both. “In all my years of experiencing this festival…this one had a different kind of magic, didn’t it?”

“It was nice.” You look at your mom with soft eyes, “I’m happy you enjoyed it, mom.” 

“Best festival this place has seen so far.” She tells you honestly. “So? Are you two going to keep walking around or head home as well?”

“Whatever y/n wants.” Taehyung says, “We drove together so…”

“Honestly, I’m pretty tired.” You look at Taehyung with sorry eyes, “But we can stay longer if you want?

“No, I’m pretty ready to head home as well.” He pulls his phone from his pocket, “It is after 9 already and we’ve had a long day.”

“Okay, let’s go then. Mom, breakfast tomorrow?” You ask before hugging her again.

“Yeah! Taehyung you come too!”

“Oh, sure.”

“Now get going, you guys deserve some rest!”

“Let’s see if they’re getting any ‘rest’ after they danced like tha—ow.” Soonja rubs her arm where Eunja pinched her.

“Anyway,” You clear your throat, “I guess we will leave then. See you tomorrow, mom.”

“Bye, my love!” She sings out cutely as she watches you and Taehyung walk away and then she glances at her two friends. “Good dance, huh?”

“Yeah, it made me miss my libido.”

“Well, who do you think choreographed it?” She smirks at her friends and they start laughing and Soonja just links her arm with your moms again.

“Ohhh~” She whistles. “Bad girl!” and the three start giggling before leaving as well.

~

The drive back to the apartment complex is filled with a comfortable silence. Taehyung has the windows rolled down, the chilly breeze feels so refreshing against your skin. You’re both content with how the dance turned out…your mother’s happy face is what makes both of you so satisfied. 

When Taehyung parks the comfortable silence turns into a silence with expectations. You aren’t sure what to say? Thanks for the ride? Or maybe…want to come inside for a drink or? You aren’t sure what’s going on in his head either…you just see how he glances at you with his lip stuck between his teeth. 

You both get out of his car and start walking towards the building. “I’ll walk you to your door.” Taehyung suddenly mumbles, “You know, just in case you get kidnapped despite me being three doors down.”

“It could happen.” You look at him, “Never know. Better be safe.”

“Exactly.” Taehyung smiles, “Your mom would kill me if something happened to you with me being that close.”

“Well, good thing you’re that close.”

“Good thing.” He nods.

You are both walking slowly through the parking lot and it’s not like you can’t see your apartments right up ahead…it’s not a big complex. But you can feel how your body yearns for more time…you’re surprised but lately, time with Taehyung has been really nice and you’re at that point where you want it to keep going.

“You think you’ll actually get some sleep tonight?” Taehyung asks you, “I know you said you’ve been having trouble since…everything.”

“I don’t know.” You sigh, “I’m trying to stay positive so my mom sees me happy. I don’t want her to see me all sad, you know, knowing…but yeah, at night. Alone. I don’t stay as positive.” You laugh a little, not much humor in the sound. 

“I get it.” Taehyung says softly, “But…I’m glad you’re able to smile for your mom. I know it means everything to her.”

“I know.” You agree solemnly. 

“Let’s just enjoy our days.” 

“I have this place for 6 months but I kind of wish I would have just stayed at my mom’s house.” You begin to sulk, “I didn’t know.” 

“Exactly, you didn’t know.” Taehyung bumps into your side as a way to comfort you. “But you know, your mom probably likes her privacy as much as anyone else.” 

“I guess so.”

“And—oh, wow.” You and Taehyung come to a stop. “That was a short walk.”

You chuckle, nodding your head before glancing at your front door. “Well, uh, good job today.”

Taehyung sways on his feet, his eyes going around before landing on you again. “Yeah, you too.”

“So—

“I was—”

You both try to speak at the same time. And Taehyung is quick to gesture towards you, “You go!”

“No, no!” You shake your head, “You go first.”

“Okay.” Taehyung steps a little closer to you, “I was thinking maybe we didn’t have to end the night yet?”

Thank god. You try to keep a calm expression but you feel giddy inside. “Oh?”

“Like, we just pulled off something we worked really hard for.” He starts explaining, “Maybe we could celebrate?”

“Celebrate?”

“I have some wine in my apartment…if you—if you want to come over and have some with me.” He gazes into your eyes and you see them soaking in something you don’t fully recognize. This is new territory. “If you want.” He finishes softly.

“Hmm,” You look off to the side innocently, clearly teasing him and he’s trying not to smirk when you question cutely, “I wonder if that’s what I want?”

“Maybe you want something else?” You’re surprised by the drop in his voice. “A different drink, I mean.”

You turn your head to face him quickly, your cheeks feeling like they’re on fire as you stare into his eyes. He’s the one teasing you now. “I guess I could explore my options.” Is what you say and he nods towards the direction of his apartment.

“Perfect. See what the options are and tell me what it is you want…” He pauses, eyes looking darker before he smirks. “And I’ll give it to you.”

You cannot hide your amusement, eyes on him when you begin following him to his place, three doors to the left. When he stops in front of his door, he puts the code and lets the both of you inside.

“Welcome to my—wait, wait.” He suddenly stops, spinning in his spot when he remembers…

“Is…” Your eyes go to the wall to the right when you spot something familiar. “Is that mine?” You ask him, finger pointed at a small portrait that is hung up.

“Um,” He looks around awkwardly, “Yeah, I guess.”

“You guess?” You quirk a brow, lips spreading into a grin. “You bought my art? When?”

Taehyung shakes his head with a smile, trying to rid himself of the slight embarrassment. “Uh, like a year ago?”

You walk closer to it and inspect it when your mouth falls open and you face him again. “I remember this one.” You tell him quietly. “I was struggling to create anything. So finally I made this and I was told how not good it was…” You chuckle, cheeks heating up all over again. “I was shocked when it got sold.”

Taehyung blinks at you, surprised. “Not good?” He walks closer to you, his eyes going to the small portrait. “It was my favorite one.” 

“Why?” you ask but he’s quiet, eyes still on your art.

“I felt like I understood it.” He finally tells you. 

“Understood it?”

“Lost.” Is all he says. 

And although in the last couple of days Taehyung has made your body react in different ways like excitement swirling in your lower belly. But today, right now, you think this is the first time your heart is the one reacting. You feel it bang against your chest roughly. It wants to jump out. 

“I think I do want wine.” You tell him quietly, your voice barely audible. 

He faces you and extends his arm out, “Whatever you want from me you can have.” He says it with such subtlety. 

You take a seat on his sofa as he fetches you both a glass of red wine. You look around his place…small and cozy like yours but his furniture looks a lot more modern. Well, that makes sense, you think. Your furniture is your mom’s from a storage unit, who knows how old it all is. 

“Here.” He hands you a glass, “Taste it and tell me what you think.”

You look him over as he takes a seat right next to you and raise a brow. “You want me to tell you if it’s good, huh?” And then you bring the glass to your lips and take a sip, “It’s good.”

“I like to know these things.” He shrugs while he sips his own drink. “So,” He brings the glass to his lap. “Did you have a boyfriend or you know, someone uh, special like that…” He clears his throat, “Before coming back home?”

“You want to know my relationship status?” You try not to sound too teasing but he sees right through you.

“I told you I was curious about you.”

“Well, I’d hope I’m incredibly single since I’ve been pretty forward with you recently.” You say as nonchalant as possible making Taehyung chuckle.

“Maybe you’ve said a thing or two that made me sure. But I thought I should still ask.”

“Are you? You know, incredibly single?”

“Incredibly.”

“Oh?” You laugh before taking another sip. “So Ida isn’t in the picture then?” You eye him with your lips still on the glass and he shakes his head frantically.

“No. no.” He waves a finger at you, “Have I innocently flirted? Maybe.”

“So is that what you’re doing with me?” You bring the glass down now, playful glint in your eyes. “Innocently flirting with me?”

“No,” He smiles, blush on his cheeks and a fiery warmth crawling up his neck. “It’s not so innocent, I don’t think.”

“Well, thank god.” You tease him and he’s loving this side of you, you can tell. He’s looking at you with such mirth. “Can we share something then?”

Taehyung eyes you curiously, “Like what?”

“Even when we weren’t on good terms…ever had not innocent thoughts?” You bring the glass to your mouth again, taking a few sips while you watch his mouth fall open in surprise. “I can give an example, if that helps.”

Taehyung watches you as you conceal your smirk and he’s feeling his body tingle. “It helps.” He says slowly.

“I thought about your hands every time we were practicing. They’re really nice. I could give that as a regular compliment but since this is ‘not innocent’ I’m sure you can assume what my thoughts about them were like.” You tilt your head innocently, “But don’t worry, those thoughts were short lived since your rudeness killed it.” Now you laugh.

Taehyung is looking flustered but he’s managing to keep his expression calm even though he’s trying so hard not to imagine what your thoughts were like. “Fine.” He tells you with a confidence, “Since you want it, I can give you my own example.”

“Perfect.”

“You’d show up wearing those legging things and I struggled not to look at your ass in them.” He speaks calmly. Slowly. “But I did. And I am sure you can assume what kinds of thoughts I was having as well.” 

You’re trying not to snort and ruin the mood that’s currently going so you settle for a long sigh, “Yeah, I think I can imagine what you were thinking.”

Taehyung gazes at you, lips parted and eyes growing darker. It’s quiet between the both of you and he decides to kick it up a notch. He’s feeling confident that it’s what you want. “Then tell me what it is you think I was thinking.” He requests this to you, voice slow and deep.

“You want me to tell you what you were thinking?”

“Yeah.” He nods, setting his wine glass down onto the table in front of the couch.

Your eyes follow the glass and you decide to do the same thing, glass set next to his. “Okay.” You breathe out softly, leaning back into the sofa, getting more comfortable as you both turn your bodies to face one another.

“And—”

“—Mm, mm.” You shake your head, “You told me to tell you so let me speak first.”

He slightly lifts his brows before gesturing a hand to you, urging you to continue.

“I think…” You bite your lip in contemplation, “You’ve definitely thought about fucking me at least once in these last few weeks.”

He’s a little surprised by your vulgarity but it only makes him feel more drawn to you in this moment, “At least once.” He confirms with a sly smile.

“I thought you didn’t like me though?” You tease him, “Kind of contradictory.”

“I told you I didn’t hate you, y/n. I was mad. Different.” He shrugs, “But I’m still a man. With eyes.”

“Oh? That’s right and you know how to use your eyes, huh?” You keep teasing, “That’s why they were always on my ass?”

“Always?” He challenges you. 

“You probably thought about dropping your hand lower, you know, every time we danced.” You keep going, “Did you want to cup me in your hands?”

“You would have liked that, right?” He keeps challenging. “Since you’re a fan of my hands.”

“And what exactly do you think I was thinking?” You turn it around now, “Huh?”

“Depends.” He leans a little closer to you, “How explicit am I allowed to be?”

“Rated R. We’re adults.” You smile cheekily.

“Okay…” He thinks for a moment, his eyes never leaving yours. “I am willing to bet you thought about my fingers when you touched yourself. Maybe you wish they were mine?”

“Oh, that’s a bold assumption.” You crack a devious smile. “Hmm.”

“Are you doing that thing again where you aren’t willing to confirm nor deny?” His drapes his right arm over the sofa and his fingers find your shoulder. “That’s a little mean.”

“Didn’t I say it was my turn to be mean?” You take a breath before continuing. “The wine has been good, by the way. You kept true to your word, you gave me what I want.”

“Is there anything else you want?” He strokes your skin and goosebumps begin to rise and he’s concealing the smile that wants to spread. You react to his words and he’s enjoying it.

“What else are you offering?” You whisper the question, eyes going all across his face, lips included and he decides you’ve flirted enough.

“Me?” He asks innocently, despite the fact he’s looking at you with such a wanton expression. “I would probably kiss you if that’s what you wanted.”

“Hmm,” You lick your lips, your own eyes clouding over, a lewdness corrupting you from the inside out. “Is that what I want?”

“Tell me.”

“Fine,” You lean forward a little, your body wanting to move on its own and his does the same. “I do.” You whisper again, eyes on his lips but his hand goes to your cheek now.

“Before I kiss you,” He strains in his spot, wanting nothing more than to do that. “I feel the need to tell you I might have developed an actual crush on you and I hope this isn’t a one-time thing.”

You stare at him, only feeling yourself grow hotter from his words. “Good.” You lean forward more, eyes beginning to close when his face inches closer to yours, his warm breaths hitting your lips. “I’m hoping for the same.”

Taehyung feels a satisfied, roll of electricity sweep over his skin and his hands go to your hips as he pulls you closer to him. You feel hot under his touch. Taehyung leans in more, his lips slowly finding yours, he’s careful and smooth but the sensual movement of his lips moving over yours has you surprised. 

Your hands go to the back of his neck, urging him to deepen the kiss. He falls forward more, your bodies closing in on one another as he kisses you deeper. He’s guiding your body to lay back, his hands now roaming your back. Lips still exploring your lips and your stomach starts flip flopping the moment he lightly sucks onto your bottom lip, little moan escaping you and his tongue sweeps through. He rolls it over your tongue, moving so slow and expertly. 

Taehyung moves to slot himself between your legs, his kisses grow more frantic and you’re matching his passion with your own. He’s groaning into your mouth the moment he rolls his hips into you, your legs instantly wrapping around his waist, heels of your feet pushing him closer to you. 

He bucks his hips into your center harder and you can feel an obvious erection grinding against your clothed core. It starts driving you wild. You move your face to the side, needing a moment to breathe and Taehyung takes this opportunity to plant wet kisses all across your jawline. His teeth nip at your throat and his tongue slides against your skin, making you breathe heavier and heavier. 

“How far do you want to go tonight?” He whispers roughly, lips at your ear.

“Far.” You say quickly, your hands in his hair as you try to push his head down more. He gets the hint in an instant. He kisses down your neck, to your collarbones and he’s quick to slide his hands up your shirt, and under your bra, his long fingers groping your breasts. “Here?” You ask breathlessly. He looks up at you, confused. “You want to do this here? On your couch?”

He smirks before sitting up straight, his hands going to yours as he guides you to sit up as well. “Would you rather be in my bed, y/n?” He asks, head nodding in the direction of his room.

“Yeah.” You admit, “I would also rather if you lost some clothes.”

“Me?” He grins at you. “Let’s go.” Taehyung stands from the sofa, his hand taking yours and he guides you to his bedroom, and once inside he slips his shirt off. “How’s this for a start?”

“It’s a start.” You chuckle, sitting on his bed. “How does it end?”

“Me inside you hopefully.” He cracks a smile, “If that’s what you meant by far.” 

“Come here.” You sigh, your own shirt coming off, along with your bra. Taehyung pauses, his eyes raking over your bare torso and he sees how you start pulling your pants lower.

“Wait.” He comes to you quickly, hands looking greedy as his fingers go to the waistband and he’s assisting you. “These too.” He whispers, your panties being dragged down as well. “Fuck, you’re pretty.” He tells you when you lean back on his bed, completely naked.

He crawls over your body and his lips are everywhere. Your breasts, your stomach, your hips and you’re struggling to keep it quiet when his mouth and hands feel so good roaming your body like this. He lowers himself, face between your thighs, eyes on your fucked out face when his fingers go to your heat. He spreads your folds and his fingers are quick to get sticky from how wet you’ve become.

You’re watching him and then an idea comes to you, you smirk and use his words from earlier, “Taste it and tell me what you think.”

Taehyung can’t help the lazy smile on his lips, his own expression probably looks as fucked out as yours. He leans forward with his eyes still on yours when he licks up your cunt. He keeps his tongue playing with you, swirling around before pulling back a little. “It’s good.” He teases.

You laugh a little, head falling to the mattress when his tongue digs in again, licking your clit with the right amount of pressure and you start to lose it. He’s quietly groaning into your pussy, your mind hazy at the sound. And finally, his fingers start joining the fun. He has one at your entrance, slowly pushing it in and you gasp at the sudden intrusion but he doesn’t let you think about his one finger too much because now he’s pushing in another.

“That’s…” You moan, “That’s good.” 

He curls those two fingers before moving them, fucking your hole with technique like he has long mastered this skill. You’re squirming on the bed, body tensing as he builds up your pleasure. He can feel your walls shuddering against his fingers and he figures you’re close but maybe he could have assumed it based on how vocal you’re getting.

Your hands go to his hair, pushing his face further into you and he moves his tongue faster and you’re left with heavy breaths leaving your parted lips. You come. You finish all over his face. Out of breath, you continue to squirm when he keeps eating you out, the pleasure going into overdrive. You slam your eyes shut, trying to handle it but you can’t. Not tonight, anyway.

He understands, pulling his face back and his fingers leaving your hole. He stares down at you, eyes filled with lust and need. He stands, undoes his pants and pulls them down his legs along with his underwear. You try to keep your eyes on him, his length exposed to you and you mumble to yourself, “Holy shit.” You say between erratic breaths. You were not expecting him to be this big. 

“How do you want this to go?” He asks you, his own chest heaving. So ready to fuck you, he’s painfully hard at this point. “What position will help you come?”

He’s thoughtful, you give him that. You smile, still breathless while you answer. “Probably on top.”

“Fuck…okay, yeah. I’m going to fucking love that.” He says before making his way to one side of the bed.

“But I really want you to have a view of my ass so.” You smirk at him, lifting your body from the mattress.  “Lay back. Maybe stack some pillows, I have a feeling you’d like to watch intently, hm? Have a good view.”

Taehyung sucks in a sharp breath, his hands going to his cock, fingers lightly stroking it. “Okay.” He says, hand leaving his aching member and then he’s piling a few pillows before he lays down and leans against them. “Condom.” He point towards his night stand.

You glance at the nightstand, reaching over to open the drawer and grab one before handing it to him. “Put it on.”

His fingers move fast, ripping the package and sliding the condom onto his hard standing dick. “I’m ready for you.” Is all he says, breaths so erratic it makes you feel so turned on again, like you were never touched in the first place. 

You crawl over his legs, eyes staying focused on his eyes. You make it to his lap before turning in your spot, your back facing him and he loses his mind. Eyes on your back before they fall down to your ass. You take a moment, looking down to his how hard he is. You reach for his length and hear him let out a long sigh, fingers wrapping around him. 

After a moment, you lift up and bring his cock to your hole, letting it brush against you, spreading your wetness. His hands go to your hips, fingers digging into your skin and you moan out when you push the head of his cock inside you. Taehyung’s body shudders the moment he starts entering you.

You slowly slide down, pausing every few seconds as you adjust. Thighs already shaking as you take him, his impressive size stretching you open. And finally, you both moan in unison once you’re completed seated. You exhale deeply, trying to fully adjust to him. He watches your back, letting you take your time. Suddenly, you feel the warmth of his soft fingertips at the nape of your neck and then he is slowly sliding his fingers down, tracing your spine with the most delicate touch. Your hips move forward at this sensation. 

And then he’s taking both of his hands, grabbing onto your hips before he cups your ass, squeezing the flesh and you smirk. You turn your head to see him but his eyes are focused on your body, not your face. He looks like he’s going to melt at the sight. You feel ready, motivated even as you start moving your hips…you grind into him a few times, his grip getting stronger on you. You finally rise from his pelvis and sink down again. Over and over. Riding him with a consistent rhythm. God, it feels so good. His cock is nestled so deep inside you and every time it brushes against your walls you have to remind yourself to keep another orgasm at bay. 

Taehyung is loving the view. He’s trying to keep still but every now and then he thrusts upward and you swear you try not to crumble at the feeling. He’s hitting your spot so accurately that you’re whining and whimpering on top of him…he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. You ride him harder and faster, your stamina surprising you but you are chasing this orgasm now.

“Fuck, if you keep…” Taehyung mumbles, his moans are deep and grumbly. “I’m going to come…” He warns you, voice shaky 

“Good.” You cry out as you slam down harder, your walls squeezing him tightly. Your fingers find your clit and you start rubbing yourself, getting you closer so you can come at the same time as him. “Fuck,” You moan. “I’m going to come too. Come now, fuck, come now.” 

Taehyung grips your hips again, his head rolling back into the pillows as he bucks his hips up and comes into the condom. 

He goes weak, eyes rolling around, trying to remain sane as you keep fucking yourself onto him before you finally come undone. You roll your hips, grinding as you ride out your high. You are fucking exhausted. 

“Holy shit…” He starts sitting up, lips going to your shoulder. “I’m serious, this is not a one-time thing.” 

You laugh, your body is hot and tingly. “Definitely not.” 

“I should take you on a date then, right?” Another kiss.

“I think so.”

~~~

6 months later

Taehyung has an arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to his body. When you’re all snuggled up to him he places a kiss to your temple. “She would love it.” He tells you softly. His eyes on the painting you finally finished, it’s 12x 12 and you momentarily sit it down on top of your mother’s grave. 

“Yeah, she gave me the idea for this before the festival.” You smile, “I can’t believe it’s already been 2 months since she’s passed.”

“Yeah, me either.” He admits, “I miss her.”

“Me too.”

“You know,” He looks at you, eyes on yours when you look back at him too. “I was thinking, since your art inspo is back and all…”

“Hmm?”

“What if…we turn the dance studio into an art studio as well? There’s plenty of practice rooms we could turn into art rooms? I’ll handle the dance lessons. You can teach like painting classes or something?” He eyes you carefully, wondering what you’ll think.

“Oh.” You raise your brows a little, “That’s kind of a good idea.” 

“Isn’t it?” He asks more excited. “What do you think? Should we do it?” 

“We could try.” You say the words slowly, tempted to bury your face in his chest because he looks so cute like this. All excited and warm and handsome and damn, you’re in love. “We would have to make some changes at the studio for sure.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung grins, eyes lit up with something so tender. “But changes are good, right?”

You gaze at him for a moment before your eyes go around the cemetery, trees are tall with green leaves and you notice all the beautiful flowers that have recently bloomed. “Yeah.” You nod, heart beginning to glow before you look back at Taehyung. “They are.”