#my shift ended an hour and a half ago. i really should be going home soon.

[orcelito]

Salty bitch in me sooooo satisfied by the fact that I probably make more money than the person who made my life hell last year lmfaooooo

[fandomwritingbit]

William Afton x fem reader

Babysitter

A/N: This is a second stab at the babysitter trope because it’s just delightfully filthy, it’s not at all connected to the go I had before (which you can find - here). Also this is my first time writing somnophilia so I hope it’s good. 

Synop: Reader is a regular babysitter for William, one night she stays the night as he is working a late shift. He comes home annoyed and the sight of her asleep is just too tempting.

Warnings: smut, non/dub con, somnophilia, age gap, inappropriate relationship.

You pull the duvet cover up over one of the children you’re babysitting, her voice catching your attention with its whiny tone. “I can’t believe you’re making us go to bed this early.” 

You smile at her and shake your head. “Lizzie, it’s half nine on a school night. You know the rules.” She pouts looking at you with pleading eyes. You know that she just wants to stay up and spend some time with you, it’s not surprising, with two brothers it’s no wonder she wants some time with another girl. She looks up to you and as sweet as it is, you know better than to delay her bed time. 

“Pleease, y/n.” She tries again and you chuckle as you turn on her nightlight then her big light off, coming back over to prop her pillows up. 

“Nope.” You say through a grin, “Now lie down if you want tucking in.” She does, though her dissatisfied expression doesn’t shift. And so, bringing the duvet up under her chin you tuck it tight at her sides, just how she likes, knowing that despite the whinging she’ll be asleep in 10 minutes tops. You stand up and head for her door, stopping just before you leave, “Night night, Lizzie. Remember the quicker you get to sleep the sooner we can make breakfast in the morning.” The little lass smiles and you notice the sleepiness of it even in the low light of the room. 

~

Elizabeth is asleep before you can gather your stuff and lock up downstairs, just as you thought. So you go about checking on Evan asleep in his room as of an hour or so ago, happy to find him still settled. They’re good kids, never any trouble really. You’ve babysat for the Afton kids many times, as a local young lass with a liking for extra pocket money it was a handy job. You would pick the two youngest up from school, take them home and cook dinner, help with homework, all the good stuff. Their dad worked long shifts at his restaurant, so usually you’d stay and put the children to bed, getting yourself home once he’d come back. But tonight was different, Mr Afton had told you he won’t be back til the middle of the night and offered you to spend the night in the spare room; which you took him up on. 

The room is probably the smallest one in the house, not that you mind, it is a double bed with an end table and a chest of drawers. You put your bag on top of it, taking out your wash bag and heading to the bathroom, where you then ready yourself for bed. As it’s only one night you didn’t bring any pjs, only your clothes for the morning, so you strip down to your panties, take off your bra and keep the shirt you’ve been wearing today on, thinking that that should be good enough to sleep in. Yes, it’s revealing but if you need to tend to the kids you can always put your trousers back on. 

You don’t notice your discarded bra, abandoned on the bathroom floor.

Once in bed you set your alarm for seven in the morning, knowing you’ll have to help Mr Afton with the school run tomorrow. Again you don’t mind and you’re paid well for your time. And you like Mr Afton. God, how can you not? Such a handsome bloke, lean and sharp. Smart as anything too, you’ve listened to him talk on the phone, all business, shrewd and confident. Yeah, you like him alright. 

~

William gets home in the early hours, some time after 3am and the happy silence of his home isn’t enough to quell his silent anger. An incident at the restaurant has left him with paperwork up to his nose and a tonne of wasted stock, and with rent and utility on the way he was stressed to all hell. Even after staying nearly all night, there was still some much to do when he went back in tomorrow afternoon, and lord knows Henry won’t be helping much. 

He moves through his house as quiet as he can, careful not to wake anyone up even with his terrible mood. Poking his head in on his children, he smiles in satisfaction at your work. You’re such a good little lass, looking after them so well, you’re more than worth what he pays you. Honestly, the kids love you, even Michael isn’t annoyed by your presence and he couldn’t ask for a prettier thing to be milling around his house. He chuckles at that thought, you’re a damned tease even if you don’t realise it. What with all your tight jeans and shirts that pull away when you bend down, it’s hard for him not to look at you, but so far that’s all he’s done. That and a bit of harmless flirting. 

He pops into the bathroom to wash his face, hoping that will help clear away the stress of the day, except he doesn’t make it as far as the sink. Stopping still at the sight of your bra left on the floor. It’s a surprise to say the least, you’ve never struck him as the black lacy type, least of all when looking after his kids. And especially so given you’re not a careless individual. He grins as he picks it up, rubbing his thumb over the peak of the cup where your nipple would harden at such an action. The image goes straight to his cock, he’d wager you are much too inexperienced to wear such an article.

It would be a shame to just leave it there all night, so he keeps it in his clasp as he leaves the room, a naughty idea crossing his mind. 

But as he passes the spare room that he notices you’ve left the door cracked open. He’s not delusional, he knows it’ll be to hear the kids if they need you, but a very persuasive part of him wonders if you could have left it open for him. After leaving your bra in the bathroom it doesn’t seem outlandish, rather like you’ve left him a trail to follow and he wouldn’t dream of denying that invitation. 

The light from the hall cuts through the room as he cracks it open, his eyes quickly finding your sleeping frame laid on the bed and an almost sinister smirk creeps across his face. Such a lovely girl just laid there, having no clue that he was taking in the sight of you. Whether you did do this on purpose or not is irrelevant to him, there is only so much teasing a man can take.

He stands there in the doorway for a moment listening to the tickly feeling in his chest of doing something he knows he shouldn’t, his silhouette casting a large shadow into the room. It’s a familiar feeling but one that just never dulls. 

Still careful to be silent, William slowly enters the room, reaching behind himself to close the door, the room remaining dimly lit due to a lamppost outside the window. His hands move automatically to the buttons of his shirt, still unsure of what he was going to do even as he took it off, dropping it down to the floor. His belt was harder to take off without the suspect clinking noise but he manages it and his trousers follow suit. Standing over you there with his cock rock hard behind his boxers, he feels like some all powerful monster and it’s just delicious. 

The bed dips as he gets in beside you, lifting the duvet up and scooching in until his chest is pressed against your back, your warmth utterly intoxicating. You stir, a soft sleepy moan leaving your lips that makes his dick twitch. This is wrong in so many ways but he doesn't care, especially when his cold hand finds your leg, tracing up to the soft skin of your thigh and groaning when he feels the fabric of your panties. Though he skims over them for now, eager to feel more of you. It’s so easy for him to reach up under that shirt, trailing up over your stomach whilst softly grinding his stiffness into your behind, the knowledge of no bra making precum coat the tip of his cock. 

A cold hand grabs your breast, gently squeezing your flesh before taking your nipple between his fingers and tugging it lightly, it hardens instantly which makes him grin wolfishly. You again stir, arching your back into him, your behind rubbing against his erection. Your body subconsciously leans into the touch so he can’t help but give you what you want, largely because it’s what he needs.

So he shifts position, lifting your leg forwards to gain access to the part of you that was calling for him. He traces over your clothed pussy, brushing over your clit a few times and feeling your body tense with the slight stimulation.  

“Is that what you like, sweetheart huh?” He whispers, his breath spreading goosebumps along your skin, it doesn’t wake you but it’s close to. The throbbing of his cock makes him want you to notice. From there he slides his fingers under the fabric, immediately finding your core slick and gooey, he glides them through your folds, gradually becoming more risky with how he grinds his hips into you. The stimulation makes you moan, your eyes fluttering open and body instinctively trying to pull away, but he holds you firm, his other arms sliding under you to clamp over your mouth, disguising the sounds that tear from your throat. 

He shushes you repeatedly, his voice low in your ear, “Shush, sweetheart. It’s alright.” You’re ravaged by confusion, unable to tell if this was real, the fingers coated in your slick teasing your entrance and rubbing your clit felt achingly so, but how could this happen- it couldn't possibly be happening. 

You groan something into his hand and he briefly pulls it away enough to hear you, prompting you to say it again with a hum. Your brows are knitted as you speak, still trying to pull yourself away from him and the growing feeling building in your core. “...Mr Afton?” He grins into the back of your neck when you say his name like that.

“Yes, lovely.” 

You moan as his fingers find a perfect rhythm on your clit rubbing it vigorously and making the coil in your stomach tighter by the minute. “What… what are you doing?” It’s hard to speak, you’re so shocked that he’s doing this, that you’re living through it right now and that it feels so good. 

He doesn’t answer you, just chuckles into your skin, you aren’t riving away from him anymore but rather grabbing at the quilt now sticking to your sweaty skin, unable to decide if you want all this to stop or if you need him to continue. Your lower stomach is riddled with knots that are just begging to snap, the sensation completely overwhelming. You’re moaning pathetically, causing him to shush you again, you sound so good right now he’s dying to relieve himself somehow and just rubbing against you isn’t enough anymore, not when he knows how sweet and wet you are for him. And just, just as you’re screwing your eyes up ready to slam into your climax he stops, leaving your pussy twitching on the brink of your end. 

“Mr Aftonnn.” You whine, devastated that ecstasy was ripped from your tongue and desperate to feel it again. He moves behind you, pulling down his boxers enough to let his cock out, hissing as he strokes himself. You feel him pressing against your behind, then the stickiness of his precum smearing on your skin. 

“You gonna let me fuck that sweet little pussy?” The sound of his voice is so insanely dirty it has your head spinning, you nod, not remembering that he can’t see you. “Huh?” He prompts again, sliding his cock between your legs, the head notching against your entrance in such a way that it almost makes you jump.  

“Yes. Please.” You manage your voice hazy with tiredness and arousal, he doesn’t wait a moment, pressing himself inside the size of him stretching you to accommodate him. You whimper before he even gets to the hilt, your hands balled up in the sheets. 

He groans, sniggering slightly at how good you feel around him and unable to resist he starts fucking you. It’s an earth-shatteringly slow pace that has his tip pressing flush into your sweet spot, each time feeling like he was stealing the air from your lungs. The bed creaks with the movement, though he only just notices over the pretty sounds you’re making. You can’t help it, your orgasm is raising its head almost immediately and you want it so bad that you’re begging incoherently, grabbing at his hand which has found itself squeezing your breasts. And despite trying to keep the noise down his pace grows faster and more needy, the lewd sound of your wet cunt taking him in becoming more frequent. He’s muttering the dirtiest of things in your ear, mixed in with praise for how good you feel and how well you’re doing.  And it’s too much. Shuddering you hit your climax hard, muscles tensing as your wall clamp down around him and fluttering in the most perfect way. 

He grunts, fucking you more selfishly as your tightness begs him to cum. His pace wavers before he does shoving himself as deep as possible as he bursts inside you, filling you up without thinking. You gasp a little, still reeling from your orgasm but still aware enough to feel the sensation of his cum leaking out of you as he pulls out, leaving your cunt twitching. 

“Such a good girl.” 

[leiawritesstories]

illicit affairs

credit to my bestie @rowanaelinn who gave me the prompt and encouraged this whole story ily bb 🫶

Word count: 3.3k (oops)

CW: swearing, alcohol, infidelity (cheating), smut. it's NSFW y'all, minors please stay away for your own sanity, it's...dirty dirty. i'm gonna go bleach my eyes now.

enjoy! (i hope...)

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

Aelin didn’t know when the spark had gone out, only that it had. She woke up that July morning to an empty bed, an empty house, and her hopeful half-smile faltered and crumbled, all her illusions of the fairytale marriage she’d dreamed of since childhood splintering into dust and ashes.

She really should have been anticipating this day. It's not like anything about the situation was unexpected--it was so painfully obvious that Chaol wasn't interested in her anymore that they really should have just ended the marriage already. But both he and Aelin were stubborn-minded, unwilling to just let their marriage die when they could still look back on their honeymoon phase and see sparks of something that might be theirs again.

Chaol was Aelin's high school sweetheart; they'd met during their sophomore year, instantly hit it off, and had been inseparable ever since. They'd gone to university together, and he had proposed to her when they were only 19, just after freshman year. Not wanting to wait forever, they'd decided to get married when they were both 21--looking back, Aelin knew that had been their first mistake. They were so young, so full of hopes and dreams.

Real adult life wasn't yet reality to them.

And here they were now, at 24, married for three years and drifting apart for a year and a half. She'd noticed the shift in their marriage when Chaol got his first promotion at his job and started spending longer hours in the office, coming home later and later. Back then, he still came home to her, not to his work. He'd push open their front door, dump his laptop bag on the floor, and come to her. She'd smile and welcome him, kiss him, ask him how his day was and listen to his stories, always eager to help him destress however she could.

Not quite a month later, he stopped sharing every story from his work day. She didn't mind--didn't really notice. She was busy with her own graduate studies, which were getting more intense, and as much as she loved her husband and wanted to be there for him however she could, he had to reciprocate the feeling for anything to work. He started working even longer hours, claiming the new projects his bosses kept shoving onto his desk were eating his time.

She believed everything he said. Stupid, foolish, stupid Aelin.

Months passed, then a year. By then, Aelin was going to bed alone, leaving Chaol's dinner in the fridge or on the stove, not bothering to wait up for him when she didn't even know when he'd be home. Besides, with the thesis she was writing, she didn't have the time or the energy to devote to spectacular meals. She hardly even woke up when he finally slipped into bed beside her--when he still slept beside her.

It was only a month or two ago when the fragile peace they still maintained cracked. When Chaol came home early--for once!--and found her buried in her work, with books and documents spread across the table, her long-since-empty coffee cup abandoned beside her, typing furiously away on her thesis. When he called a hello that she didn't return, because she didn't hear him. He snapped at her that evening, said that he felt like he couldn't talk to her anymore.

He slept in the spare bedroom that night. And Aelin didn't even feel any difference--she was asleep as soon as she dragged herself into bed, worn out from the day, her work, and the argument.

~

The morning it all shattered, she woke up to a silent, empty bedroom. She'd grown used to the emptiness, the quietude of having her own room, but this was different. Silent. Too silent.

Yawning, she rolled herself out of bed, washed her face, and tucked her feet into her favorite beat-up old slippers before heading downstairs. "Chaol?"

No response.

Her forehead crinkled. "Chaol? You home?" she called, heading into the kitchen. Still nothing.

Not until she'd gone through the motions of making coffee did she realize that certain things were missing--his favorite coffee cup, namely. That was when it hit her. He was gone. Probably for good.

Aelin expected to feel shocked, numb, angry, empty--anything but what she felt. Instead, she just shrugged and poured her coffee. It was always going to happen, a little voice in the back of her mind whispered. You've known so for months.

Yeah, she had.

~

That night, Aelin came home from a rather tiring session with her advisor, left her backpack on the floor, and reached for her phone, tapping Lysandra's contact.

<<bitch, get ready, we're going out

>>when?

<<now. soon. as soon as we're ready.

>>meet you at stag's? with shots ofc

<<you're the best, babes

Aelin showered quickly, dried off, and put on her little gold dress, the metallic material still molding to her body as perfectly as it had the first time she'd tried it on. She'd been shopping with Lys and Elide, who'd all but ordered her to get the dress, thinking it might lead to a night of fun with her husband.

Chaol hadn't even seen the dress. And, Aelin realized, giving herself a once-over in the mirror, he didn't deserve to.

She did her makeup heavier than usual, lining her eyes in bold, sharp flicks of liquid black and dusting her eyelids with gold. She painted her lips crimson, holding them apart for a few minutes to let the lipstick dry so it would be smudge-proof. When she looked in the mirror for one last check, she was caught off-guard. She looked...different.

She looked alive.

She looked fucking hot, and she was ready to go meet her best friend at their favorite club and forget her failed marriage.

The last thing Aelin did before leaving the house was tug her wedding ring off her finger and drop it into the shallow jewelry dish atop her dresser. She'd stopped wearing it in public months ago--if Chaol was going to act like they weren't married, then why should she keep up the farce? She kept it on at home, though, still clinging to the last threads of their union.

No longer.

~

Lysandra whistled when she saw Aelin. "Hot damn, girl!"

"Stop," Aelin laughed, stiletto heels clicking as she headed across to Lysandra's seat. Four shot glasses were ready and waiting, two of them filled with clear liquid and the other two with something colorful and sweet-smelling.

Lys wiggled her perfectly threaded eyebrows. "Someone's gonna catch a man tonight, hmm?"

Aelin winked. "That's the idea." She picked up one of the shots. "Cheers, bitch!" Tapping her glass against Lys's, she downed the shot. Then the next. With the alcohol warming her blood, she glanced over to the dance floor, her foot tapping along to the music.

Lys grinned like the wickedly clever woman she was. "C'mon, bitch, we're dancing!"

Aelin swept her gaze across the crowded floor, searching. "Lys, babes, I don't see anyone worth--" Her sentence cut off as her best friend all but dragged her out among the dancers.

"Just enjoy yourself!" the brunette yelled, tipping her head back and grinning.

Quickly, Aelin list herself in the thumping bass, the pounding melody, the near-indecent rhythm of the dancing. She'd only been dancing for a few minutes when she felt someone's hands slip around her waist and tug her back against a chiseled, decidedly male body. And gods fucking burn her, his body felt divine against hers, moving in perfect sync with her and the music, coaxing her hips to slide against his. She wound one arm up behind his neck, sliding her manicured nails into his cropped, silky hair, and leaned in closer, catching the scent of pine forests and icy mountain breezes.

"What's your name, gorgeous?" he purred into her ear, his breath fanning against her skin.

Smoothly, she spun to face him, which conveniently aligned her breasts with his chest. Fuck, he was gorgeous--at least six foot four, chiseled muscles, a tattoo snaking up the length of his left arm and flicking onto his cheekbone. Eyes the color of the Oakwald Forest captured hers, smoky promise burning in their depths.

"Don't make me ask again, princess," he warned, the hint of command in his tone sending fire racing down her spine.

She hooded her eyes. "Aelin."

"Aelin," he repeated, rolling her name like fine wine on his tongue.

She wouldn't mind that tone rolling in other places, hell no she would not.

"What's your name," she asked in return, letting the pause drag on before she added, "sir?"

He sucked in a sharp breath, and she could have sworn his hands slipped closer to the hem of that little golden dress. "Since you asked so nicely, I'm Rowan." His lips brushed the side of her neck, a bare hint of a touch. "But you can call me sir," he murmured, splaying one broad hand against the bare skin of her back, exposed by the cut of her dress.

Burning hell.

"Rowan," she whispered, her voice dropping to a throaty purr, turning the two syllables into something borderline explicit.

His hands flexed against her skin, pulling her even closer, fingertips brushing her thigh--just under the hem of her dress. "You're going to keep quiet for me, princess." Not a request, an order. An order that sent sparks dancing through her blood. That damn hand inched farther up her skirt. "Answer me."

"Yes, sir," she breathed, eyes fluttering closed in anticipation.

His smug, dark little chuckle rumbled deep in his chest. "Remember, princess, we're on a public dancefloor. Nobody gets to know that you're--fuck--soaking wet for me." He'd found her lacy little scrap of underwear, which was indeed soaked with arousal.

"Yes sir." Her vocabulary was apparently reduced to those words.

Rowan kissed her neck, a teasingly light peck of his lips. "Good girl." The endearment sent a new rush of arousal pooling between her thighs--which, of course, he felt. His smug smirk only grew. "Turn around, princess, keep grinding on me. I know how wet it made you." Keeping that hand under her skirt, he spun her around, splaying his free one across her stomach, pinning her in place.

She sucked back a gasp at the power of the maneuver, forcing her legs to stay strong, not to waver and collapse like they wanted to. "Sir," she breathed, body a little tense with the waiting.

He kissed the side of her neck. "Relax, princess. Dance for me." He guided her into motion, swaying with the pulsing thump of the music blaring all around them. She closed her eyes, letting the rhythm take over, leading her body. "Good girl," Rowan whispered into her ear.

As a reward, his finger dragged up the seam of her panties, landing squarely on her needy clit. Her mouth dropped open, head falling back against his shoulder, hips rocking against the pressure of his hand.

Though she couldn't see his face, she knew full well that smug male smirk of his was firmly in place. "Look at you all dripping wet for a stranger, and I've barely even touched you." Shoving her panties aside, he teased her sex for a few seconds before sliding one thick finger into her, pulling a faint moan from her throat. He clicked his tongue. "Uh-uh, princess. Quiet."

She pressed her lips together, forcing the sounds she wanted to make to be silent. "Please," she breathed, her dancing smoothly slipping into time with the pumping of his fingers.

He chuckled darkly. "Such pretty manners." Another finger slid in beside the first, those two fingers stretching her more, filling her deeper than Chaol ever had. She banished the stray thought--no need to think about him when this moment was already so good. Rowan's hand sped up, working her higher, keeping her moving so nobody around them would be able to tell he had his fingers buried into her in the middle of the very public dancefloor.

Aelin felt herself getting closer, blood singing with the pleasure shooting through her veins. Subconsciously, she gripped Rowan's forearm, sweat beading on her forehead from the effort of keeping quiet. "Please, sir," she begged, practically thrusting herself onto his hand. "So close, please--oh!" A moan tore out of her as he crooked his fingers, brushing that sensitive ridge inside of her.

In a heartbeat, his fingers were gone, and she'd spun around to face him again, meeting the darkness in his gaze. He shook his head, laughing smokily at the shock and arousal mingled on her face. "You disobeyed, princess."

"I--"

"I told you to keep quiet." He caressed the curve of her ass, the gold material of her dress molding to her like a second skin. "What happens when you disobey, princess?"

Aelin's breath shuddered out in a long gasp, all coherent speech failing her.

Rowan's lips quirked up. "Open your mouth." She did. He placed his fingers at her lips. "Taste yourself, princess." Not really waiting for her to move, he slid his fingers into her mouth. She wrapped her crimson-stained lips around his fingers, tongue flicking around the digits in a way that could only be described as explicit.

He chuckled, knowing she'd behave. "That's right, princess, be a good girl and clean me up." When he'd all but choked her with his fingers for long enough, he withdrew, sinful promise lighting his eyes. "Can you stay quiet for me now?" She nodded. "Words, princess."

"Yes, sir," she whispered, clenching her thighs together.

He tracked the movement. "Mmm, perhaps we should take this somewhere else." A soft, teasing kiss against her pulse point. "I don't think the whole club should see your pretty little cunt, hmm?"

Aelin could barely think through the heady rush of arousal that washed over her senses at Rowan's filthy words. In a single blurred moment, they were in the club's bathroom, the door locked behind them, and he'd lifted her onto the countertop. She loosed a little squeak at the unexpected cold of the marble, the sound rapidly turning into a groan as he shoved her skirt up around her waist, exposing the completely soaked scrap of black lace she called panties.

"I don't think we need these anymore," he hummed, yanking the lace off of her. And burying his face in her sex.

Aelin moaned deeply, gripping the edge of the countertop to keep herself upright. "Fuck!"

Rowan pulled away, making a tsking sound. "What did I tell you, princess?"

"I--quiet, sir," she panted, just about ready to beg for his touch.

"Seems you need a little help with that." Rising, he stuffed her panties into her mouth, the essence of her arousal exploding on her tongue. "Now hold. Fucking. Still."

She didn't even have time to nod before his tongue was back in her sex, licking a long, rough line up her folds. She arched into his touch, gasping at the way he grasped her hips, both to support her and to angle her better for the devouring. His tongue--gods, she'd never felt the way he made her feel. He alternated long, rough strokes with teasing little flicks, plunging his tongue into her sex and then flicking it around her clit, keeping her just teetering on the edge of orgasm.

Desperate, she gripped the countertop harder, using all of her might not to scream as Rowan raised his eyes to hers, unchecked hunger in their depths, and sucked her clit into his mouth. The scrape of his teeth was enough to set her off--but she held on, knowing that he'd punish her if she came without his command.

"Good fucking girl," he groaned into her sex. "Come for me, princess."

She didn't need encouragement--the way he nibbled at her throbbing clit was more than enough to send her into orgasm, her body shuddering with the force of her climax. He latched his mouth onto her and lapped up everything she gave him, letting out a moan himself at the taste of her, thick and sweet on his tongue.

"So fucking gorgeous when you come," he groaned, lifting himself up to pull her panties out and claim her lips, his kiss just as dominating as the rest of him. He swept his tongue through her mouth, angling her head to meet his.

Aelin groaned into his kiss, her body already throbbing with need for him again. "Please," she panted, grasping his shoulders to keep herself stable. "Please, sir."

"Please what?" he asked, knowing full well what she wanted but needing to hear her beg.

Her chest heaved. "Please fuck me, sir, I need you."

"Good girl." He kissed her again, all tongue and dominance. "Spread your legs for me, princess."

She did.

Slotting his hips between her legs, Rowan shoved his pants down just enough for his cock to spring free, smirking at the way Aelin's bright eyes widened at the sight of him. "Think you can stay quiet now, princess?"

"I might need a little instruction, sir," she purred, lowering her lashes and peeking up at him. Fuck, she was impossible.

"If you say so," he smirked, pumping himself a few times. "Hold still, princess." She nodded, and he moved forward, pushing into her. Fucking hell, she was perfect. Tight and warm around him, her walls squeezing his cock. "Loosen up, princess," he whispered, stroking her clit to help her ease up. Her jaw fell open as he shoved the rest of the way in, grunting.

"Sir," she groaned, gripping his shoulders, her lovely face screwing up with pleasure.

"Quiet, princess," he warned, practically shaking with the effort of not slamming into her until she couldn't even think. She panted, hips rocking just enough to let him know how much she needed him. "Want me to move?"

"Please," she whispered.

"Good girl." He pulled back and slammed back in, setting a near-frantic, heavy pace. She moaned, unable to keep the sound back, and he clicked his tongue, sliding one hand up her body. "Tap my thigh twice if it's too much, okay?" She nodded. He kissed her hard, swallowing her groan, and wrapped his hand around her throat, keeping his grip light.

Aelin felt fire racing through her nerves at the pressure of Rowan's hand around her throat. She gripped his shoulders tighter and matched the frenetic pace of his thrusts, leaning into his grip enough that he tightened his hold, hand flexing against her throat, muttering filthy promises and praises into her ear. So quickly, she felt herself hurtling toward climax, and if the way his hips stuttered was any indication, he was close as well.

"Come for me, princess," he commanded, squeezing her throat in time with the way his hips pounded into hers, his cock deeper in her than anything she'd ever felt.

She exploded, mouth open in a silent scream as she came around his dick. He groaned her name into her neck, his control snapping as he spilled into her.

Slowly, they both came down, Rowan removing his hand from Aelin's neck and stroking her back as he pulled out. He reached for some paper towels, wet them, and carefully cleaned her up--an oddly gentle contrast to the domineering man who'd fingered her in the middle of the club dancefloor and then fucked her into oblivion in the bathroom.

Not until her dress was back in place and she was strolling onto the dancefloor--albeit a little shakily--did the realization of what she'd just done hit Aelin. Swiftly, she dropped Rowan's hand and ran, weaving through the throngs of dancing bodies until she was out of the club, out in the bracing cool of the night air.

That night, Aelin Galathynius cheated on her husband with a man she’d just met.

And gods burn her, it was the most alive she’d ever felt.

What the fuck had she just done?

~~~

TAGS:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@morganofthewildfire

@backtobl4ck

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@chronicchthonic14

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@darling-im-the-queen-of-hell

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

@mis-lil-red

[sgtmickeyslaughter]

Hi! How about 47 and 54 for the trope mashup? :)

Hello!!

This was such a fantastic pairing for the prompts!! I hope you enjoy it :)

47 Emotional Support + 54 Mickey’s Mom Is Alive

It was a long ways between Chicago and Eastern Kentucky, and there was a hundred mile stretch of road as they waded through the rolling hills of Appalachia where the only station that would play without static was straight up, honkey tonk country music. 

Ian was loosing his mind at the sound of the fucking fiddle, but he didn’t dare turn it off because then he would be sitting in a quiet car with his husband while they travel to the hicks to visit his apparently very not dead, dead mother. 

Mickey took it upon himself to end the torture with an angry slap to the radios power button. “Jesus,” he muttered under his breath. 

“So, um” Ian said nervously, “you’re going to get off the highway in three exits.”

Shifting into the next right lane, Mickey sighed. The car went quiet again so Ian filled in the silence again, “we should be there in about a half hour, forty five minutes tops.”

Mickey nodded, but didn’t respond. So Ian spoke up again, clearing his throat and wincing as each word came out of his mouth “so are you, uh excited? You know, excited to see her.”

Three months ago, Ian got a phone call from Mandy Milkovich. They were stuck talking to their chattiest client and Ian was going to blow off the call from the unknown number, but he got a weird feeling about it. He had a million questions for her, but she just needed him to talk to Mickey about something.

“What, what is it Mands?” Ian asked urgently. “I can give you his number if you want-”

“No, Ian - seriously just listen. I don’t, I mean - well send me his number in case, I do want to talk to him” she stammered. “I need you to tell him something for me because I just, I can’t have the conversation with him because he’s, y’know a total fucking drama queen.”

“Mandy, what the hell are you talking about?” Ian asked lowly, stepping out of the building with a concerned glance from his husband. 

“I found our mom” she said, exhaling all at one. 

“You found her like - like, you found where she was buried?” Ian asked curiously.

“No, no I found where she is living, alive. As in our mom isn’t dead” Mandy said slowly.

“No but, your mom is dead” Ian responded.

“Yeah” Mandy agreed. “Except she’s not, Terry lied.”

“Why would he do that?” Ian asked incredulously.

“Seriously?” 

“Yeah, right. So your mom is alive and you want me to break the news to Mickey? Don’t you think that is the kind of information that should come from a sibling?”

“Well, I mean, you’re a lot closer to him. Husbands and unconditional love and all that.”

“You could argue that there’s unconditional love between siblings as well,” Ian reasoned.

“Mhm, yeah, not for us.”

“Okay, fine I get it. Um, can you just tell me a little bit about what happened? Mickey doesn’t talk about her.”

“Um, Terry knocked her up with Mickey when she was thirteen, they got married when she was sixteen. Mickey was her favorite and she was his favorite person in the world, one day when we were eleven Terry came home and told us that ding dong the bitch is dead and Mickey didn’t speak except to cry himself to sleep for about six months and then he never spoke about her again and would lash out at anyone who did.”

“Oh, good. I’m glad no one told me” Ian said sarcastically. “What the fuck, Mandy?”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Ian” Mandy insisted. “I found her, I’m staying with her for a while and she really wants to see Mickey.”

“Okay, right. My brain is fucking leaking out of my fucking ass right now Mandy, I’m going to talk to him tonight and I will call you back sometime tomorrow and just..um, I will let you know how that goes.”

“Thank you so much, Ian. I know this is hard but I just can’t do the mom thing with him again, and you were dumb enough to marry him.”

“Yeah, I guess I was, I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Okay, thank you.”

“I’m so happy to hear from you, Mandy.”

She hung up at that. And Ian was left to head back inside and face his husband. 

It was ugly, that night when he told Mickey. He was in denial for a while, thinking Ian was lying or playing a trick on him. He was pacing around like a caged animal, eyes wild and mouth running non-stop. Once he did come to accept it, he stopped talking, stoped moving around and his eyes traveled down that thousand yard path to no where. 

Ian tried to get him to share how he was feeling, but he was completely stone-like, where he’d settled on the floor, back against the couch and knees pulled up to his chest. So ultimately Ian just sat next to him and gently pulled Mickey close to him, until he settled his head on Ian’s shoulder and cried completely silently. 

“I don’t know how to help you” Ian whispered quietly, after a long while of sitting like that. “I don’t know how to make it better.”

Mickey didn’t react except to rub his cheek slightly against the soft wet cotton of Ian’s teeshirt. 

They didn’t mention it again for two days, and then another week went by before Ian hesitantly broached the subject again, only to get shot down over and over again. 

“It’s like living with the worlds angriest rubber band, he is going to fucking snap, Mandy. You need to talk to him, I am going to make sure he’s home alone tonight and you are going to fucking call him and answer all of is questions and help me with this shit.”

Mandy tried to talk Ian down, but reluctantly agreed to call Mickey that night. Which was how they wound up on a highway through Kentucky trying not to scoff at all the ultra-religious billboards. 

His mother lived in a small house with a smoking chimney, framed by the mist floating through orange gold trees on the surrounding mountains. Mandy was standing on the front porch when they pulled up, watching hesitantly. 

Mickey turned off the engine but made no move to get out of the car, so Ian turned to him quickly. “Mickey, listen. Whatever happens today, everything is going to be okay. I can’t promise that she’s okay and that your relationship with your mom is going to be remotely fine or normal. But everything will be okay in the end, right? I love you so much, you’re going to be okay.”

Mickey looked over at him, expression frenzied and helpless, so Ian took his hand and brought it up to press his mouth against it. “Mickey, pause. Take a couple deep breaths with me, and let’s go.”

So sorry to do this, but the prompt was way too good to keep so short so read the rest here if you're interested !

[munson-blurbs]

Fight My Battles (Eddie x fem!reader)

Lots of angst + fluff. You’re home from college and working at the record store with Eddie. Plans get interrupted by an unwelcome blast from the past.

Warnings: allusions to sex, language, attempted assault. Contains sensitive topics. Billy Hargrove makes an appearance.

--

Pulling into the record store lot, you throw your car in park and take a deep breath. First days were always nerve-wracking, even if it was just at a summer job back in your hometown. New York City, where you went to college, was too vast to be personal; a stark contrast from Hawkins, where everyone knew each other.

You step out of the car and smooth down your black skirt and check your shirt for any lint. Good to go.

The bell on the store door gives a little ring as you walk in. An older, balding man--your manager, Greg--looks up from behind the register. When he sees it’s you, he smiles and waves you over. “Y/N!” he calls, “welcome!”

“Thanks!” you chirp back. “I’m a little early, but I figured you could give me a tour of the store or something.”

“Actually,” he stretches, “I have to run out real quick. My wife’s car broke down at the grocery store and she needs a knight in shining armor to save her,” Greg grins, “but Eddie would be happy to show you around.” He cracks open the door to a storage area and calls out, “Hey, Ed! Care to give the new girl a tour of the place? Show her the ropes?”

And just like that, Eddie Munson appeared at the door. You recognized him from school, you know, when he actually showed up. You two had never really talked or ran in the same social circles. He stuck with his D&D buddies, while you preferred the company of the theatre kids.

Now, he offers you a smile that makes your heart beat a little faster. “For sure. I’m Eddie,” he says, holding out his hand for you to shake. You accept it and introduce yourself.

“Y/N. I think...I think we went to Hawkins High together for a bit. I graduated last June.” you offer for context.

“Oh, yeah! You looked familiar. I just graduated this year. Third time’s the charm, I guess,” he replies sheepishly. He runs his ringed fingers through his hair. “Anyway, let’s get this tour started so you can get to work and I can get back to doing the bare minimum.”

Greg gives him a small smack to the back of the head and hurries out the door. “I’ll be back soon. Y/N, keep an eye on Eddie for me, will ya?”

Oh, that certainly won’t be a problem.

Eddie gives you a full tour: the stock room, the front end, how to take inventory, place orders, and use the cash register. All of the new information has your head spinning, and he notices.

“Don’t worry. You have any questions, just ask me. And if you make any mistakes, blame it on me.”

“Won’t you get in trouble?”

He just shrugs. “My uncle is always fixing Greg’s wife’s car for cheap. If he fires me, he’s gonna have to pay a lot of money for someone to fix that hunk of junk.” Fair enough.

A small silence stretches out in front of you until you ask, “How long have you been working here?”

“Just a few months. I needed a new gig, a legal one, and Greg was telling my Uncle Wayne that he needed someone to help with the store, and,” he punctuates with a sweeping gesture, “here I am.”

You giggle. “Here you are.”

“What about you? What brings you to Wrecked Records?”

“Needed a summer job, and it’s too expensive to live in New York City year-round on minimum wage, so, here I am.” You mimic his gesture kindly.

“Here you are,” he murmurs, then clears his throat suddenly and checks the clock behind him.

“What time does your shift end?” you ask.

“Uh,” he stammers, “half an hour ago.” “Eddie! Go home!” you chastise him teasingly. 

“I’m not leaving you all alone on your first day,” he retorts. “What if you burn the place down?”

You roll your eyes and plop down on a worn leather couch. “I’ll be fine. Greg should be back any minute.” And he does come back 15 minutes later, and Eddie’s still there, reorganizing the inventory for the fiftieth time. Greg’s surprised to see him.

“Normally, I can’t even get you to work your full shift, and you’re staying late now?” he says, “Y/N must be a good influence.”

“The best,” Eddie flashes his signature grin. “See you tomorrow,” he calls as he heads for his beat-up van.

~

The next few weeks are filled with shifts at the record store. You’re pretty sure Eddie’s flirting with you, always teasing you and playing with your hair when the store is empty. Your favorite is Thursday nights. It’s your day to close the store. Eddie’s supposed to leave at 6, but the store doesn’t close until 11, and he waits around for you to close so he can walk you to your car. Every time, you think he’ll make a move, kissing you or even asking you out, but nothing. Just a “get home safe,” as he closes the door behind you.

Maybe you’ve been misreading his signals. Maybe he just has a flirtatious personality.

Tonight, he is in a goofy mood. He’s been having more of those since you started working at the store. He blasts Cyndi Lauper and sings along in what can only be described as a screech.

“They just wanna! They just wannaaaaa! Girls just wanna have fun!” You’re laughing so hard that tears stream down your face. 

“Fuck, Eddie! You’re gonna make my mascara run!”

“You know you love my singing, sweetheart! Don’t deny it!” This only makes you laugh harder.

The song ends and you check the clock. Only 8 PM. You notice Eddie grabbing his keys from the back and raise an eyebrow.

“I’ll be right back. Just gonna grab some food. You want anything?” You shake your head, and he laughs. “Yeah, okay. I’ll get you some fries so you don’t steal mine. Again.”

“Food just tastes better when I’m stealing it from you,” you reply simply.

Eddie leaves and you hear his van starting up. There’s just one person in the store, a woman checking out some Pat Benetar records, and she leaves a few moments after Eddie does. You’re picking at your chipped purple nail polish when the bell rings. “Finally, you’re back with--” you stop, because it isn’t Eddie. It’s Billy Hargrove.

Billy Hargrove, your high school sweetheart, although sweetheart was too generous. You dated for half of your junior year all throughout your senior year until you left for college. You wanted to make long-distance work, but Billy had other plans. Other plans that involved other girls.

“Hey, college girl,” he says roughly. “I heard I could find you here.”

You say nothing, hoping he’ll get the hint and leave, but it doesn’t work. If anything, he feeds off of your discomfort.

“Since when did you get so shy around me? Don’t you remember chasing me down, throwing yourself at me like a pathetic little slut?” he sneers and finally gets a reaction out of you.

“I’M the slut?” you shout. “You’re the one who was fucking other girls for half of our relationship, but I’M the slut?”

He feigns shame, but his eyes give him away. “I know. That’s why I’m here; to get you back. I missed you, missed those perfect tits, missed how good you feel.” He goes to cup your face with his hand, but you pull away. “Don’t you remember how I made you feel? I could take you in that back room and make you feel that right now.”

“No,” you croak. “Leave me alone.”

“Aw, come on, college girl,” he drawls. “I know none of those little frat boys made you moan like I did.” He creeps closer to you until you’re backed into a corner. He places his hands around your waist and pulls you to him. You try pushing away, but he’s too strong.

“Get off of me!” you yell, but it’s useless. You pick up your foot and kick him in the shin. He stumbles back slightly but comes charging back to you.

“What the fuck was that?” he snarls and grabs your arm, tight. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”

“Stop it, Billy! Stop it! Leave me alone!” you sob. In the background, you hear the faint sound of the bell but can’t process what it means. It’s only when you hear his voice that it clicks.

“Get the fuck off of her!” Eddie drops the food, fries tumbling across the floor. He grabs Billy’s shoulders, whips him around, and punches him in the nose. Blood drips down Billy’s face, staining his teeth red.

“Oh, is this why you won’t fuck me? Because you’re fucking the Freak?” he laughs meanly. 

“She won’t fuck you because she doesn’t want to, you piece of shit!” Eddie swings again, but Billy catches his arm in one hand and uses the other to punch him back. Eddie falls to the floor and Billy kicks him in the stomach.

Thinking quickly, you grab the gun from behind the counter, the one Greg keeps there in case of a robbery. Well, this wasn’t a robbery, but you didn’t think he would mind.

You aim it at Billy and scream. “Leave right now or I’ll shoot you right between the fucking eyes, you pig!” You clock his fear as he backs out with his hands up. 

“I’m leaving, I’m leaving. But I’m not finished with you yet,” he growls. Exhausted, you collapse onto the ground in a pile of tears.

“Y/N! Are you okay?” Eddie runs over as fast as he can. “Well, of course you’re not. Did he...did I get here in time?” You nod, and he breathes a small sigh of relief.

“Let’s close up early. Greg won’t mind; I’ll explain it all in the morning. Then I’ll get you home.”

You shake your head. “But I drove here. What will I do with my car?”

“Leave it here.”

“Okay, then how will I get back tomorrow?”

“I’ll pick you up,” he says simply, “if that’s okay.”

You nod and rest your head on his shoulder. “You saved me, Eds. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you didn’t come back in time...”

“No, no. If I didn’t leave to get food, he wouldn’t have...” but you stop him.

“Eddie, you punched Billy Hargrove and saved me. You’re my hero. Take the compliment.” you joke lightly.

~

Fuck Billy Hargrove.

That’s all Eddie can think as he drives from your house to his trailer. Tonight was going to be the night he asked you out, maybe gave you a kiss on the cheek or the forehead. He was ambivalent about it, knowing you’d be back in New York soon, but he didn’t want to let the chance slip by.

And then Billy Hargrove showed up, and hurt you, and Eddie very well couldn’t just ask you out after all that. He wasn’t going to take advantage of your vulnerability.

He pulls up to the trailer and Wayne greets him with a smile. “So, how did it go?”

Eddie fills him in on the night’s events, watching as his uncle’s grin turns into a frown. “What are you going to do now?”

“Kill Hargrove?”

Wayne gives a small chuckle. “Besides that. You can still ask Y/N tomorrow. Just be extra gentle about it. Don’t want her pulling a gun on you, too.”

~

Eddie’s rehearsed what he wants to say, over and over again. You were still on edge the next day, but markedly less scared, so he plunged ahead with his speech. He didn’t have to work that day; he was only driving there to drop you off, so he knew it was now or never when he pulled into the parking lot.

“Y/N, I have a question. And I don’t want you to, y’know, feel any pressure to say yes or anything. But I’ll kick myself if I don’t say something.”

You twist in your seat and look at him. His hands are gripping the wheel even though the car is in park. “What’s up, Eds?”

“Do you want to go out with me tonight? I know it’s last minute, but I wanted to ask you yesterday, but then...” he trails off, not needed to finish the sentence. “I just don’t want you to think that you owe me anything because of what happened, because if you say no, I’ll still be your friend and fight Hargrove for you any day of the week.”

That gets a giggle from you. He’s about to continue babbling when you grab his hand. “Eddie,” you start, “I’ve wanted to go out with you since the moment you gave me a tour of the store.”

His eyebrows raise. “Really? Huh, no shit,” he mutters. “And here i was, waiting around like an idiot.”

You look at him mischievously. “Well, then, we’d better start making up for lost time.” You planted your lips on his, tasting stale cigarettes and black coffee. His hand snakes around your waist, pulling you as close as the van will allow. You bring your own hand up to his face and cup his cheek, giving his lower lip a slight bite as you pull away. He groans and slumps back in his seat.

“Now I gotta wait until 6 to do that again?” he whines, but he’s smiling as he says it.

“Be nice or I’ll make you wait until the end of our date to kiss me again,” you tease. You kiss his cheek as you leave. “A parting gift.”

"Try it, and I’ll sing Cyndi Lauper until you lose your mind.”

You bound into the store, well aware that Eddie can’t tear his gaze from you. It’s going to be a long shift. 

[wheresarizona]

Learning to Live Part 6

summary: You have a few more hours left before Javi needs to go home, your wonderful date coming to an end. How will you spend the time?

pairing: Javier Peña/f!reader

rating: E (18+!! Javi POV smut, unprotected P in V (wrap it up), creampie, vaginal fingering, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, praise, Javi coming really hard and needing a little more time than usual to recover, feelings, soft moments, domestic fluff.)

word count: 6k+

A/N: Hi! This is a continuation of the last chapter. Thank you so much for all of the support and love for this story, it makes me so happy! I almost have the next chapter done and I have the rest of the fic outlined, so definitely more to come. If you’d liked to be tagged, my taglist form is in my page bio or feel free to comment. As always, this is dedicated to @juletheghoul, my inspiration and rock. Shoutout to my beta @invisibleismyname who is literally amazing and the literal best.

Comments and reblogs always appreciated! I love hearing what you thought. 🥰🥰🥰

Prev - Next - Series Masterlist - Masterlist

Javier wasn’t surprised when her breathing evened out, and her body went utterly lax against him, succumbing to sleep. He knew it was probably going to happen at some point in the night—he’d read once it had something to do with the hormones released in the body when a person comes; they can make you drowsy.

He’d also had this happen before.

Many times.

Except the women never fell asleep on him like this, so this was new and welcome.

The television screen was blue from the VHS player, not receiving a signal from the tape that had run out a while ago. It illuminated the room in a soft glow, the only other light coming from the doorway to the kitchen.

There were sounds of the occasional car outside, and the neighbors walking around upstairs.

The windows were dark, and he knew it had to be late, eyes glancing at the clock on the wall and seeing it was a little after ten. He mentally calculated how late he could stay, before his mind said fuck it, and he’d just be tired when he went to work tomorrow—getting to spend some more time with Cielito was worth a couple of extra cups of coffee.

He also didn’t know if she’d want to spend time with him the next day. They’d planned to go to the farmer’s market on Saturday, but that was the day after next, and he wanted to see her before then.

He sighed.

He’d just spend as much time here tonight as she allowed.

He kissed the top of her head.

If she was resting, he should probably get some shut-eye too. He hugged her against him and closed his eyes, letting sleep take him away.

He woke when Cielito moved, getting off of him while whispering sorry, and he opened his eyes to see her walking through her bedroom door, probably heading to the bathroom.

He scrubbed his hand over his face and sat up on the couch, his feet flat on the floor. His eyes glanced at the clock, seeing an hour had passed, and the TV was still on. He leaned forward to get the remote, pressing the power button to shut it off, setting it back down, and grabbing his water, finishing the half-full glass in a few satisfying gulps.

He eyed their dinner mess and frowned. He didn’t want Cielito to worry about it, so without a second thought, he got up, pulled on his jeans, and gathered the dirty dishes, moving to the kitchen and putting them in the sink, and doing the same with the pans and other kitchenware they’d used to make the food.

He was contemplating doing the dishes when he heard her voice.

“Javi?” She called from the living room.

It was the way she said his name that made him think something was wrong, and he briskly moved to the kitchen doorway, finding her standing just outside her bedroom, looking upset.

Her expression shifted to relief when their eyes met, both moving towards each other.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, lightly grasping her arms when she was within reach.

She looked away, and his brows furrowed.

“I thought you’d left without saying goodbye,” she said softly.

His heart stuttered. He felt terrible for worrying her, but knowing it would upset her if he left—that she didn’t want him to leave—had warmth flooding his veins and made him happy.

Maybe she would want to see him tomorrow.

He tried not to smile.

“In just my jeans?” He asked. “Without my shirt? Or jacket?” He pointed at the leather on the floor in the entryway.

She looked at him.

“There wasn’t a lot of thought before I jumped to conclusions,” she said, crossing her arms.

“Mrs. Hernandez is probably already scandalized by the noises we’ve made. I don’t know if she could handle seeing a half-naked man, too,” he said with a smirk.

Her eyes widened.

“Oh, god! The noises. Javi, you made me scream your name!”

His chest puffed up a little, nodding.

“Yeah. Repeatedly.”

“Don’t be smug about it! We’ve probably traumatized an old woman.”

“Isn’t that what the, uh, apology pie is for?” He asked.

“A thousand apology pies would not be enough for the raunchy porn sounds.”

“They weren’t raunchy,” he said a little defensively, frowning.

He loved the noises he could pull from her; they drove him wild.

Her eyes narrowed.

“You dislike ‘raunchy’ but admit they were porn sounds?”

He thought about it for a second.

“I could get off from listening to us fuck,” he said truthfully. “So, by definition….”

“You’re ridiculous,” she said, exasperated.

“You have two choices,” he said.

“What are you talking about?”

“You have two choices for where we fuck.”

“I have two choices?” She asked, looking dubious.

���Yes. Here in your apartment where there’s the possibility your elderly neighbor overhears us or,” he let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “My place. In the room I grew up in at my dad’s house.”

Her eyes widened.

“You wouldn’t,” she gasped.

The horror on her face made him smile, his hands moving to cup her cheeks.

“I would. I would fuck you anywhere.” He moved in to kiss her. “You underestimate the power your pussy has over me,” he said. “The power you have over me.”

“God,” she breathed, eyes closing for a moment. She looked back at him. “You really would. The last part was sweet,” she said, leaning up to peck him on the lips before letting out a long sigh. “My place it is. I will have to do a lot of grocery shopping for the amount of apology baked goods I’m going to be making.”

“I can help?” He offered.

She laughed, nodding.

“You can help.”

He smiled, leaning in to kiss her again.

She was standing in front of him in nothing but his shirt, and he couldn’t help himself when his hand moved down her back and under it, grabbing a handful of her naked ass and making her gasp against his mouth. He took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, and she welcomed it, her arms wrapping around his neck as he pulled her closer.

Their breaths were ragged when they came up for air, his lips moving to her chin.

“I’m sorry I worried you,” he said between kisses.

“I’m glad you stayed,” she gasped when he sucked just below her jaw. Her hands were in his hair, and she tugged, sending a tingle down his spine, making him groan against her skin, as she pulled his face back up to hers to kiss him. “When do you need to leave?” She murmured against his lips.

He kissed her hard, her moan vibrating into his mouth. “A couple of hours,” he finally answered.

“It’s not enough,” she whined against his mouth. His lips moved against hers, his hands touching her body, moving further underneath her shirt to touch more of her skin, trying to get her mind off of the fact that at some point, he had to go.

He knew she was still thinking about it, just like he was, the ticking clock counting down when they would have to say goodbye and be parted until their next planned date. It makes them both desperate and needy, wanting to savor the couple of hours they had left before they were without each other for more than a day, which seemed like an eternity to them.

He was half-hard in his jeans, the moans and gasps she was making shooting straight to his dick, and when she tugged his bottom lip between her teeth, he felt the groan rumble out of his chest as the need stirred rapidly in his belly.

He could feel her, smell her, taste her, and he wants her—no, needs her so fucking bad.

She must have felt the same way as her lips came off of his to speak.

“Please, Javi,” she begged.

He looked at her, seeing his same need in the pools of her eyes, and it took everything in his power not to fuck her on the floor.

“Tell me what you want,” his voice was like gravel coming out of his throat, low and rough. Needing her to put into words what she wanted—to tell him what she needed—and he’d do it, anything.

“I want you inside me.”

He’s fully hard in an instant, and he’s crashing his mouth against hers, desperately kissing her, with his hands on her body helping guide her, as he walked them towards the couch.

He had to separate from her for a moment to push his jeans off his body, his foot getting stuck in a leg.

“Fuck,” he growled as he bent down to pull it the rest of the way off.

He stood up straight, his cock hard and heavy between his legs, aching with need as it jutted from his hips.

His eyes moved over her body, taking in the way his shirt fit on her, the gaps where he could see skin, his fingers itching to touch, and he knew she was bare underneath it, making his cock twitch.

When his eyes landed on hers, she was staring straight at his dick, and he thought she might be drooling, which made pride swell in him, and his cock get harder.

Her look had him fucking eager to be inside her—to feel her wet heat engulf him, and he quickly moved to sit on the couch, tugging her into his lap, making her gasp in surprise. His hands maneuvered her body with ease to have her straddling his thighs in seconds, feeling the heat between her legs against the hard line of his cock.

His eyes were on her face as he pressed a palm to her cheek, beckoning her closer, wanting to feel her mouth on his, and she didn’t make him wait for a second longer—she was closing the distance, slanting her mouth against his and tangling her fingers in his hair. He groaned when she deepened the kiss, relishing in her taste—peppermint, cherry chapstick, her.

He was having difficulty thinking with her tongue down his throat and her body so close, but he knew she was sore, and he didn’t want to make it worse or cause her any more discomfort.

He detached his lips from hers, making her whine as she looked at him.

“Cielito, baby, are you sure you want my dick?”

She nodded quickly.

“Yes.”

“I’ll have to loosen you up with my fingers. Can I do that? Can I make you come with my hand?”

“Please.”

“Okay. I got you.”

He pulled her back against his mouth, kissing her as his hand snaked between their bodies and under the shirt. His fingers were met with her warm wetness, finding her dripping, the insides of her thighs coated in her slick. His cock throbbed.

“Fuck, baby,” Javi groaned against her mouth as he rubbed two fingers through her slit. “Is this for me?” He asked.

She moaned yes, and he couldn’t believe she was so wet already. His fingers teased her entrance, making her moan again, before moving up to circle her clit, her jaw going slack.

He pulled his face back to look at her in his lap, marveling at how responsive she was, and how fucking beautiful she looked with her lips parted and eyes closed as she welcomed the pleasure.

He knew he could drag it out, tease her, bring her to the edge over and over again, but he was fucking desperate to be inside her, and he knew she was just as desperate for him.

He moved his fingers through her folds again, stroking the edges, watching her gasp each time he got close to her opening and clit, and whine when he moved away.

The moment her eyebrows furrowed enough that there was that cute little crease between them, that was when he knew she was ready. He gently pushed in one finger, her walls almost sucking him in as she moaned loudly. Then it was another, and finally, his thumb on her clit.

She was moaning and gasping when he started pumping his fingers and circling his thumb, getting a good rhythm and listening to her sounds. He could see her nipples were hard through the shirt, her fingers pulling at his hair, arousal seeping around his digits, and he was so fucking hard it hurt.

He crooked his fingers against the spot he knew would make her toes curl, and smiled to himself when her walls clenched around him, and she moaned out his name.

Fuck, if that wasn’t his favorite sound. He loved it anytime she said his name, but when it was in that breathy moan? When he was making her feel so good, all she could say was his name? It made him feel so fucking good.

He knew she was almost there—her moans were louder, breathing heavier, and he could hear the wet suck of his fingers as her pussy fluttered—he leaned forward and sucked her nipple through the shirt material, and that was it, her body stiffened as she cried out his name, soaking his fingers. He groaned around her nub as his cock twitched, feeling like a jolt of adrenaline hit his system.

He released her nipple.

“That’s my good girl,” he rasped.

His fingers kept working her through her high, waiting for the spasming to stop, and he used his free hand to pull her head into him so he could kiss her, needing her mouth on his. She languidly kissed him back, and he was amazed by how soft her lips were, loving how they felt against his own.

He finally removed his fingers, hand moving to grip her ass, and the kissing heated up, Cielito giving as good as she got, sliding her tongue against his and making him groan.

She started grinding her pussy against him, and he thought he might explode.

“Do you want it?” He asked, and his voice came out strained.

“Yes,” she answered and immediately lifted her hips, grasped his dick, and pressed her wet cunt against him, the tip of him nudging against her entrance.

His hand tightened on her ass as he gasped, hips bucking.

And then she was sinking down, and a guttural groan clawed its way from his throat, every thought leaving his head, his brain only focusing on the woman on top of him. Three words chanting in his mind: wet, warm, tight.

He was fucking lost.

She was so wet, sliding down him easily. And the warmth? He felt like it was moving through his body and surrounding him—consuming him, and he thought his dick was made for her, the way it fit so snug.

He had to take a steadying breath when she bottomed out.

He was at her mercy, and he thought he might be in heaven when he watched her lift her hips almost all the way off, using his shoulders for purchase before she was moving down, taking him to the hilt.

His hands were on her ass, gripping tightly as she moved at her own pace.

Feelings were washing over him, everything that occurred that night coming back to him, and he was overcome with what he felt for her.

“Take what you want,” he groaned. “Use me. Do what feels good, baby. Fuck.” He knew he was babbling, unable to stop the stream of words, but she was moving up and down on him, and he wanted her to feel as good as she was making him feel—losing himself in her, feeling drunk by what she was doing to him. “You feel so fucking good,” he continued. “Me encanta cómo te sientes, mi amor (I love how you feel, my love). So fucking good. Estás apretada y mojada (You’re tight and wet). So warm. Fuck, I can’t get enough. Make yourself come, mi Cielito.”

She was moaning, head thrown back, as she sped up, going until her legs got tired, and then moved to a grind. His lap was wet from her slick dripping out around him, and he was gasping out words from his mouth his brain was barely registering, feeling her walls flutter. She went faster, and he was holding on by a thread.

She went from fast to a grind over and over, and he could tell she was almost there, and he wasn’t going to be able to last much longer.

Her chest was heaving, tits bouncing in his face, nipples pebbled against the shirt, and Javi’s hands were moving of their own volition and ripped the shirt open, buttons flying. He heard her gasp in surprise, but it turned into a moan as he sucked a nipple into his mouth, his hand massaging her other breast as she arched her back, pushing her chest into his face.

He couldn’t help himself, his mouth licking and sucking at her nipples, moving from one to the other. He could hear her moaning his name, hear the wet sounds of her moving on him, and feel her walls tightening around him.

And then she pushed all the way down, crying out his name, practically screaming it, as her pussy clenched hard, gushing over him, Javier feeling her come around him, and it was over for him.

She’d worked him up to the point his body felt like a burning star—glowing intensely—overwhelming every molecule in his body to the point of explosion.

“Cielito, fuc—“ His moaned words against her breast cut out, voice failing, as a deep drawn-out groan replaced them, coming so hard he might have blacked out.

The world went silent. His eyes stayed shut, his brain so thick that thoughts were having difficulty forming, and his body was so deeply relaxed he was seconds away from passing out.

There was only one thought that registered before he succumbed to the darkness.

She fucked me unconscious.

You were startled by the snoring.

Javi’s head was against your boobs, your hands rubbing through his hair, while you rode out the post-orgasm haze, and you’d assumed it was the usual: Him collapsing after coming and being out of it for some minutes.

Then he snored.

You jolted from the sudden sound, looking down at your brown-haired boyfriend resting against your bosom.

“Oh, you sweet man,” you whispered, hands threading in his hair.

He couldn’t be comfortable slumped against your chest, and you worried about his back—which reminded you that you owed him a massage. You hoped he wouldn’t wake as you put your hands on his shoulders and pushed him off you and onto the fluffy cushion behind him.

He fell back as gently as an unconscious man could—not very gentle—and you held your breath as he sunk into the couch.

He let out a snore, and you sighed out a breath.

Next, you were out of his lap and still not satisfied with the position his back was in—slouchy this time—you used sheer strength and determination to grab his legs and haul them onto the sofa, turning his body so he was lying flat on his back.

You were breathing heavily after your less morbid reenactment of Weekend at Bernie’s, and still, Javi snored.

“You’re either a very heavy sleeper, or my vagina is a weapon, and honestly, I hope it’s my vagina,” you mused.

He answered with a snore, and you smiled.

You grabbed a small pillow from the other end of the sofa, carefully put it under his head, pulled the knit blanket off its back, and spread it over him.

You kissed his forehead.

“Sweet dreams, Javi baby,” you whispered, heading towards the bathroom.

He came to, hearing music playing and water running; the sounds were muffled to indicate they were in another room. He opened his eyes, the room dark save for some light spilling in from somewhere in a corner behind him.

He was disoriented for a second, and then everything came back to him—Cielito, the date, sex.

He sat up quickly, a blanket falling down his chest as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He squinted at the clock, trying to make out the numbers, and he thought it read one-thirty in the morning.

Fuck

He’d fallen asleep.

He discarded the blanket as he jumped up, worried Cielito had gone to bed, but the light was on in the kitchen, and he heard noises. He frowned and hoped she wasn’t mad at him. He’d need to leave, it was too late, and he had to work at an ungodly hour in the morning.

First, he had to piss, then he could go talk to her. He practically jogged his way to the bathroom.

Minutes later, he found himself standing at the kitchen doorway, back in his jeans.

Cielito was at the sink, wearing an oversized t-shirt that didn’t cover her entire panty-covered ass, which had him immediately thinking about bringing over one of his shirts, the ones he only wore at home, for her to wear, and it made him feel some kind of feeling imagining it.

She was cleaning dishes while her hips were shaking to the Spanish station they’d listened to earlier, and it made him smile.

He wanted to walk up behind her and wrap his arms around her body, but he didn’t want to scare her. It was bad enough he’d fallen asleep and wasted what little hours they had left.

He cleared his throat instead, and she jumped; he grimaced as she spun around with a pan in her hand.

“Javi! Fuck, I thought you died!”

“Almost did,” he chuckled. “Pretty sure my soul left my body.”

“Been there. Now we’re even,” she said with a wink.

“I guess we are.”

Her expression changed, a frown curving her mouth.

“It’s late,” she said.

He matched her look.

“It is.”

They both started talking at the same time.

“When do—“

“I’m hung—“

They laughed.

“You’re hungry?” She asked.

He nodded. He was, and it’d give him a reason to stay just a little longer, an excuse.

“Yeah.”

“Want some third date pie?” She asked with a smile.

“I had so much third date pie it knocked me out cold,” he replied smoothly.

Her eyes widened.

“Javi,” she gasped. “You’re ridiculous.” She turned back to the sink, set down the pan, and washed her hands before turning off the water. “I mean actual, edible apple pie,” she said, looking over her shoulder as she wiped her hands on a towel.

“I enjoy eating your pie,” he smirked.

She walked over to him, looping her arms around his neck, as his hands found their home on her hips.

“You’re in a mood,” she said, leaning up to kiss him.

He hummed against her mouth.

“I’m always in a mood for you,” he replied against her mouth, kissing her a little harder, and feeling a tingle go down his spine when she moaned into it.

“You, Mr. Peña are a menace,” she said when they parted, leaning up to kiss the tip of his nose. She looked at him. “Let me get you some warm, soft, sweet, delicious,” she said in a sultry tone, and his brain definitely wasn’t thinking about actual pie. “Homemade, apple pie,” she continued and gave him a quick peck, before turning on her heel and moving about the kitchen. He saw her turn on the stove, she grabbed a pie from under a glass dome, and when the oven had clicked to say it had preheated, the apple pie was put in, and a timer was set.

“We have fifteen minutes. What do you want to do?”

He chewed on his lip. There was something he wanted to do if they had the time.

“Can we take a quick shower?”

Her eyebrow rose.

“You want to take a shower?”

“With you,” he said pointedly.

She looked at him.

“Not enough time for funny business,” she said.

“No funny business,” he nodded. “Just a shower.”

“Okay,” she said, a little bit of suspicion in her voice, and it made Javi smile. “We can take a very quick shower.” She poked his chest. “Don’t make fun of my shower cap.”

He put his hands up in a placating gesture.

“I would never, Cielito,” he promised. His hands cupped her cheeks as he kissed her softly. “I know you’ll look beautiful.”

“You’re a flatterer,” she replied.

His hand slipped down, smacking her ass. “Let’s go,” he said, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards the bathroom, her giggling as they walked.

The shower was quick, washing each other’s bodies and stolen kisses. She did look beautiful in her flower-patterned shower cap. They’d dried off, put on clothes—Javi in just his jeans—and the pie was ready when they were done.

He watched her pull it from the oven, and set it on the counter, grabbing a couple of forks, and Javi made her squeak when he picked her up, and set her on the counter beside it, settling his body between her legs and kissing the air from her lungs until she was panting.

Javi moaned around the first bite, his mouth awash in flavors of sweetness, fresh apples, and a hint of cinnamon. He was pretty sure it was the best fucking apple pie he’d ever had in his life. The only thing better, was kissing her after she’d taken a bite, tasting it on her lips and tongue.

They ate directly from the tin, feeding each other, and themselves, talking and laughing, kissing when the need became too high. He was relaxed in her company, and calmness flowed through him—a contentedness so deep, that it was seeping into his bones.

The pie was gone, and the ticking clock had counted down to zero.

He had to leave, it was already too late, and they both had to work early.

He kissed her softly, tenderly, tried to pass on the feelings she made him feel through his lips, and when they parted, he saw the sad look on her face.

“It wasn’t enough time,” she whispered.

“I’m sorry, Cielito,” he replied, knowing his face was a mirror of her own.

“Don’t be,” she said. “You’ve got work, and I’ve got work. At some point, the night had to end.”

She said those words, but what he really heard from the look on her face and tone, was I don’t want it to end. I don’t want you to leave.

He felt his heart soften, felt like it melted in his chest, and spread through his limbs and center, enveloping him in warmth and happiness—joy—that she felt the same as him.

He spoke without a second thought.

“Can I see you tomorrow or, I guess, later today?”

The smile that lit up her face could brighten the room as she nodded enthusiastically.

“Yes! I hoped but didn’t want to assume, and I know we made plans for Saturday. It’s just so far away.”

He kissed her, the smile too alluring, and her hands held his head.

“Saturday is technically tomorrow,” he said against her lips, smiling.

“Too far,” she said, and she slanted her mouth against his and took his breath away.

He’d be back at her place right after work—she was off an hour before him, and they’d figure out plans later.

It was half-past two in the morning; Javier was dressed in the remnants of his shirt, hanging wide open, holding his leather jacket. They’d been saying goodbye for the last five minutes—one more kiss, turning into another, and another. He was lingering, couldn’t will his legs to move out the door and leave her presence.

He kept telling himself he’d see her later that day—less than seventeen hours—but there was still that feeling in his chest that he didn't want to go.

Finally, finally, he found the strength.

“Will you call me when you get home? I just need to know you made it,” she said, and he saw the look in her eyes, the one that said she still didn’t want him to go.

He felt his features soften.

“Of course,” he answered.

She didn’t ask for one more kiss, because they both knew if they started, they wouldn’t stop again. Instead, he hugged her tightly and kept looking back at her figure standing at her door, watching him go.

You didn’t know how many minutes had passed since he’d left.

You’d done your nighttime routine after he left, wearing your oversized T-shirt and underwear. You were on your bed, the sheets clean after changing them while Javi slept, sitting in the same spot he had while he’d smoked the cigarette. The smell still lingered; the smells still lingered—his scent coming off the pillow under your head—a reminder that he really had been there, and that the whole night wasn’t some fantasy your brain had concocted. Because, it had been almost too perfect, too unreal, and now your chest felt empty that he’d left—like you were missing a piece of yourself.

How did you fall for someone so quickly?

How did someone worm their way so intricately into your heart?

How did someone imprint themselves into your life and future so soon?

The obvious answer was because that someone was Javi.

The soulful brown eyes that had seen things you couldn’t imagine, and the body of a man who had been through so much and carried the weight of it all on his beautiful broad shoulders. You understood why his back ached—he had some heavy burdens.

And yet, even with all of those things trying to hold him down, the man was sweet, caring, so soft, and by some cosmic miracle, yours.

The phone on your bedside table rang, and you were scrambling to pick it up as quickly as possible, almost dropping the receiver.

“Javi?” You answered.

No one else would be calling at this hour; it could only be him.

“Cielito, baby, yeah, it’s me.” The sound of his voice had you feeling a tiny bit better, but your heart ached with his distance.

“I miss you,” you whispered.

“I shouldn’t have left.” He sighed. “I know it’s late. I know we have to go to work in a few hours… Can I come back over?” He asked. “Please?” He added softly.

Your heart was hammering in your chest, head nodding even though you knew he couldn’t see you.

“Yes!” You said. “Please come back.”

“Thank you, Cielito.” He sounded relieved. “I’ll hurry.”

“No. Drive safe, please.”

“I will. I’ll be there soon.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

You said your goodbyes and hung up.

You’d waited by the front door, wanted to be ready the moment the knock came. You’d turned on the living room lamp, eyes moving to the clock on the wall every so often. You’d feel like minutes had passed, check the clock hands and see it barely moved, making you frown.

You had butterflies in your stomach fluttering around, and your heart was racing in your chest.

It felt like hours had passed when the quick two knocks came, but glancing at the clock, it had only been twenty-five minutes. You quickly unlocked the deadbolt, had the door barely open, and Javi was pushing in, his lips finding yours in a searing kiss, a surprised sound escaping your throat as a big hand cradled your face, the breadth of it warming your cheek. You melted into it, hands in his hair, as he pulled you closer to him, while he also walked you further into the apartment, kicking your door shut with his foot.

You felt it in the way his mouth moved against yours—the desperation, the apology, the yearning—each kiss saying I missed you, I’m sorry, I won’t ever leave again.

And you answered with your own lips, I missed you too, you’re here now, I don’t ever want you to go.

The kissing stopped, and your foreheads were resting against one another, sharing breath, happy smiles on your faces.

“Hi,” he said, coming out raspy and breathy.

“Hello,” you replied just as breathless.

He kissed you softly.

“Let’s go to bed, Cielito.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

The front door was locked, and you finally took in Javi’s appearance, realizing he had changed into a plain white t-shirt that looked sinful in the way it hugged his shoulders and chest. He also brought an overnight bag—a small black duffle he was carrying in his hand. You smiled and pulled him along to the bedroom, Javi tossing the bag carelessly to the floor once inside.

You watched as he kicked off his shoes, and pulled his shirt up and off, revealing his beautiful tan skin, and your mouth went dry at the sight. His pants were next to go, and finally his socks, until he was completely naked, and walking to his bag. You assumed he would get whatever he slept in out of it, and after he rummaged around for a second, he turned towards you, holding a dark blue toothbrush.

“Can I use your toothpaste?” He asked.

Your eyebrows were furrowed, a little confused by the naked man, who apparently also had good dental hygiene. Maybe he’d change after he brushed his teeth?

“Yeah… Of course. It’s in the holder—”

“With your toothbrush, yeah,” he smiled. “I’ll be right back.”

He closed the distance, kissing you quickly before heading towards the bathroom.

You were stuck in place, standing at the foot of your bed. The bathroom door was open, and you could hear the sink running and him brushing his teeth, and you were having a moment, because it was just so domestic. His clothes littered your floor; he brought a bag and his toothbrush. He’d driven back over, unable to be away from you for a night. It made you happy, absurdly so. You felt like you were floating, just so elated that he was at your place, and you’d get to wake up with him in the morning.

He walked back into the bedroom a few minutes later sans toothbrush, the bathroom light turned off.

“Which side is yours?” He asked.

“That one,” you pointed to the side closest to the window.

He nodded and moved to the one near him, pulling back the sheets and crawling in.

“Aren’t you going to put on your sleep clothes?” You asked.

He just looked at you, an eyebrow raised.

“Of course,” you said. “You sleep naked. What’s in the bag?” You pointed at it.

“Work clothes. Get in here,” he said, patting your pillow.

You smiled as you walked your way over to your side.

“Impatient,” you mumbled as you got in.

As soon as you were under the blankets, arms were wrapped around your torso, and you were pulled towards him. His hands went to the hem of your shirt, tugging it off.

“Javi, we need to go to sleep,” you laughed.

“We are going to sleep,” he replied, tossing the garment onto the floor. He pulled off your underwear next.

“This doesn’t seem like we’re going to sleep.”

“We are.”

You thought maybe he wanted to feel skin against skin, which didn’t bother you.

He turned over, leaning to switch off the lamp, bathing the room in darkness before getting back in your space, pulling your front against his, cuddling you as close to his body as possible, and he let out the most content-sounding sigh, then kissed your forehead.

“I like this,” he whispered.

“What?” You asked.

“I like holding you,” he said, squeezing you a little tighter for a moment.

“I like kissing you,” he rasped, moving his head to capture your lips in a tender kiss, ending it with a nip to your bottom lip.

“I like touching you,” he continued, running his hands down your back to grab your ass, making you gasp, and he took the opportunity to kiss you hard, swallowing your moans as he kissed the breath from your lungs. You were panting when he pulled back, and you knew his eyes were on yours in the dark.

“I like you, mi Cielito.”

And from the way he said it—from everything that had happened that night—you knew he was telling the truth.

“I like you, too, Javi. A lot.”

He kissed you again, and you felt him smiling against your lips.

You fell asleep in his arms, and you’d never slept better.

Prev - Next

Thank you for reading! If you’d like to be tagged, please let me know or fill out my taglist form in my bio. ❤️❤️❤️

[rinbowaman]

okay wait just hear me out..readen making a thirst trap but not for her to post, just a cute little gift for her heethan > : )

🥴

this came out a little bit more sentimental than I had thought….just a little….

You bought a new simple v-neck tee that really emphasized your cleavage. You as Heeseung was finishing up with class, he had cordinstebfor Jake and h/n to take you back for the frat house, where you got a little bored and started to take some selfies for Heeseung.

‘Maybe I should be a little sexy?…Heeseung likes sexy.’

thinking back to that white fitted tee, you placed it in with no bra, allowing for a subtle display of your nipples to show through, which he always loved.

taking a photo, right on the first try you had a suggestive and yet solid selfie that you knew was going to drive him mad.

‘but how should I show it to him?…’ You thought about it and became hesitant, deciding to just push and hit send, you forward the image to his number….

……..

standing in front of the classroom, the professor had just left, leaving the very last bit of the class end notes for Heeseung as the teacher prepares to spend the entire night grading all of the thesis papers that were turned in.

standing in front of the class, Heeseung goes over the ending course syllabus and asks if anyone has any questions. Standing off to the side, one hand resting on his hip, while the other rests just the tips of his fingers on the edge of the teachers desk, he feels the vibration of his phone, indicating a text came in. Taking it out from his pocket to glance and see if it was from you….to see if youre okay and that you weren’t in any sort of trouble, he opens the message.

the entire class watches as his eyes grew wide and as he looks at his phone screen. Before anyone could ask if everything was alright, he quickly issued out hastily..

“okay! If that’s all and there aren’t anymore questions….let’s get outta here.”

grabbing his bag he swings it over his shoulder and heads for his car. He doesn’t even take a moment to send a text back, he merely just focused on getting back home.

“oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God! Calm down calm down calm down calm down….fuck fuck fuck fuck fuuuuuck!”

pulling up, parking and running into the house and up the stairs, he rushed in through the door to find you.

asleep……

“what the……”

he tosses his keys and crawls on top of you, you changed over into one of his shirts, wearing it as a mini night gown as you rested and peacefully napped.

normally he would have woken you and continued to devour you, admitting the most exquisite pleasure you could only feel with him. Yet…

“she looks so peaceful….she’s so tired….”

laying next to you, he stares at your face as he continues to stroke your cheek.

night fell, and you woke up from your nap. Facing the window, you turn over to reach for your phone to see what time it was, when your hand lands on his face instead. Feeling his features under your palm, you quickly turn over nearly screaming.

“Oh my God-! Babe….” Wide eyed and scared nearly half to death, you asked him when he got home.

looking at you wide eyed, with a very peculiar stare, a smirk started to form on his lips as he answered.

“A few hours ago….did you have a good nap?” He asks as he shifts his position to prop himself next to uou, partially hovering over your frame…

“Uh…yeah…” you chuckled out nervously.

“Feeling all rested and energetic?”

“mmhmm…”

“that’s good…..”

like a feral beats he begins to kiss you and caress your breast, hips, and waist, fondling every inch of you as he sucks on your neck.

“Hey wait-!”

“nope….already did that. Now come here!”

he did wait….he was patient…..but it wasn’t easy. Especially since he kept looking at your peaceful state and going back to that enticing image you sent him.

he waited…patiently….letting the peaceful lamb to sleep….

now it was time to feed the hungry wolf.

[icouldntcareless22]

The Deal (2)

Summary: She was officially failing in life and most importantly in university! With her grades hanging of the edge of a thread and tutors rejecting her left and right her only option is to make a deal with the devil a.k.a Kim Seungmin.A deal should always be fair. Your grades in exchange for Kim Seungmin's dream girl. Simple?...Right?!

Word Count: 35k

Slight enemies to lovers, idiots to lovers, slow burn, angst, fluff.

No warnings, some foul language.

AN: Finally it's here! Tumblr won't let me post it in one post, so I am forced to divide into two parts. Would you be interested in SKZ x Greek Mythology theme? Hope you enjoy!!!

Part 1

@lethallyprotected

Well it was time.

   The holiday season. 

   The absurd seasonal drinks you were making all day confirmed that. 

   It was your last shift before taking off to your hometown and everyone on campus decided to pay you a visit today. You were running all around the place, making sugary sweet coffee and foamy milks until the smile was swiped off your face. It was the morning shift so that meant you were getting off at four. A quick glance told you it was 3:30 pm and the half hour that was left was pure torture. 

       But it passed. 

       At the end of your shift, you hung your apron to the back room and bid your coworkers and boss the appropriate Christmas wishes and temporary goodbyes. And you went straight home to start getting ready. You were calculating the time it would take you to get ready tomorrow morning and when should you leave to get there on time, when your phone interupting your train of thought. 

       You checked the id caller and saw Seungmin was calling you. Well, that was a surprise!

      You slid your finger over the screen accepting it and exclaimed loudly "Puppy!"

      "I told you not to call me that" he grumbled under his breath. "Where are you?" 

        You mentally checked before answering.

 You didn't forget any lessons today.

 And you didn't have any plans with him or the rest of them.

       "On my way home" you replied carefully, voice so low that you doubted he was able to hear it.

       A pause and then "Weren't you working today?" 

       "Yeah, my shift ended like 10 minutes ago" you snorted as you crossed the street. 

       "Oh.." he only said. But you could hear noise on the background like he was outside.

       "Seungmin where are you?" You inquired, curious.

       "At the coffee shop.." he replied, sounding defeated.

       You laughed at that. "Why?!"

       "I came by to drop one of your notebooks cause tomorrow you are leaving early" he hastily explained. It was true he had one of your notebooks, but it wasn't like it couldn't wait until after Christmas. 

       You bit your lip, unsure of what to say but opening your mouth all the same. "Well..I am going home you can.. swing by and leave it to me...If it isn't much trouble!" 

       "No, I will be there." he replied "You want anything from outside?"

       "No, I am okay. I will..see you in ten" you replied.

       "See ya in five" he said before hanging up. 

    You quickened your steps, almost fast walking to your house. You reached in no time and climbed the steps in a hurry. At first glance it didn't seem too bad, but it was in no state for visitors. So you began twirling, picking up whatever caught your eye first. You just finished tucking your bed when a knock sounded. 

    "Coming!"you said, rushing to the door and throwing it open to reveal a flushed from the cold Seungmin. He greeted you politely and entered your home, bringing along with him a plastic bag. You looked up and saw him fumbling. 

     "I..I thought that maybe we can watch that movie you said the other day.."he got out, not really looking you straight at the eyes. 

      You tucked your hair behind your ear, sending him a smile. "Sure! I would love to! Thanks for the snacks" You replied and took the bag from his hand.

         You shoved him lightly towards your couch and made your way to the kitchen to plate the pop corn he brought. Only to feel him hover behind you. You threw a glance and there he was leaning against the kitchen table, in all his glory.

       "What time are you leaving tomorrow?" He interjected.

        "Around 9. The train leaves at 10 but we said with Yuqi to be there a little earlier" he hummed, clearly approving of your plans. "How about you?"

        "I am leaving the day after tomorrow. We said with the guys to hang tomorrow evening" This time it was your turn to humm in approval. Some time out with his friends would do him good. He was way too couped up in his house.

       "What are you doing for the holidays?" You wondered as you opened up a bottle of coke as well. The less your fridge had for the holidays the better. You still could recall the horrifying smell of the food that had gone bad while you were away visiting your family. Never again.

       "Probably, I will just stay home. I talked with Jeongin- You don't know him.."he trailed off once he remembered.

        "Baby faced with dimples?" You asked, reaching for the glasses.

        He wordlessly nodded as he took a step closer and pulled them down for you.

        "Thanks. I have seen him around"you confirmed, turning to him.

        "Where?" He asked, doubtful. 

        "With you. Around the school. You know I see many people on a regular basis"you joked, recalling the faces that pasted through the store today and you shuddered.

        "I guess. Anyways, we said that maybe... we can take a trip to go skiing" he said, absentmindedly as he grabbed the full plate and walked towards your couch. He set the plate down only to unravel your bed, which you had previously set. For a moment you stood there watching him in your space. He didn't ask where to sit like the first time. He had been here by now multiple times and you found yourself liking this intimacy. Him at your space.

        When you didn't reply he turned towards you with one eyebrow raised. So you shook yourself out of the daydream you had and replied something like 'you will only hurt yourselves' 

      You quickly settled down beside him on your bed, searching for a calm movie to watch. Through a hasty search and your displeasure with the lack of good movies, you selected Lilo & Stitch, which you absolutely adored. You expected whines and arguments from your company, but only silent greeted you as the movie started. You looked over at him, only iluminated by your laptop's light and had an absurd thought.

 You would miss him during the holidays. 

   The next morning you were running in the cold streets, alongside Yuqi. Running with all your might, although exhausting, managed to secure you spots on the second running train of the day. Your journey was calm and quickly you parted ways with Yuqi, strolling towards the opposite direction. Your dad and your grandparents welcomed you warmly into your house and all together you sat until the early evening simply catching up.

       The rest two days you were spent in a relaxing state, you were simply sleeping and talking with your family. The third day you caught up with some old friends. Some you hadn't seen since forever, so it felt good to know they were doing well and some you still regularly contacted, so you were more aware of their news. 

     As you were walking back, your friends came in mind. What was Yuqi doing? Was Yuna well? Ryunjin got back safe from her trip to her boyfriend? How about Wooyoung and Jisung? Were they out there causing trouble? ...How about Seungmin?

     You fumbled with your phone for a bit, before unlocking it. You strolled through your contacts before briefly stopping above his name. 

     You bit into your lower lip before locking your phone. You would be a bother. You didn't really talk the last days, besides the occasional meme you sent. It would be weird to call him all of a sudden, wouldn't it? 

      Your phone suddenly rang and you nearly jumped out of your skin. You quickly turned your phone over and a gasp left you. The screen displayed the name, that you couldn't bring yourself to call just now. You accepted the call straight away.

      "Hey Y/N" he greeted quietly.

      "Hey Seungmin"you shyly greeted back, unsure what to say now that you were on the line with him. "How have you been?"

      "Good, good. My parents stuffed me with as much food as they could. I made plans with Jeongin this weekend as well." 

      "Mmm your ski trip. Sounds wonderful!  My dad had a feast for me as well. I am just now returning from an outing with friends." You said as you walked further down the familiar street. 

      "Am I interrupting you?" He asked as the thought just dawned on him. 

      "No! No, I am just walking home. Actually I wanted to call too. I was wondering what you were up to"  you shyly admitted, not knowing if it was okay for you to do that. Your nerves soon calmed at his response.

       "Me too. I just stayed at home today. Watched a baseball game."

     "Yeah, dad was watching too when I left" you giggled, amused to hear him grumble at his team defeat. 

  And so the calls continued for the next 2-3 days. 

  And one day calls turned into a video calls. He was only exploring the app and by chance called you, he said. You didn't complain, you just sat and humored him, but imagine your surprise when the video call invitation popped up.

      Here you were today laying on your bed, trying to do math and you had mostly.. completed them, when you stumbled upon a problem you couldn't quite solve. So you decided, that a call to your tutor would be required. So here you were with your hair up and flying everywhere and your pjs on, contemplating to call or not. In the end you sat up, letting your hair down and combing them swiftly before making the call. You waited for a the first beep and then for the second and third and when you were about to hung up, the call was accepted. 

       It was a small comfort that he was in a similar state as you. Clearly in his sleepwear, hair messy enough to match your own and face pressed against his pillow. He seemed just as cuddly as the stuffed animals you had back in the days. 

       "Hey"you whispered into your screen. 

       "Hey"he replied, sounding sleepy.

        "If I called at a bad time I can.." you trailed off, suddenly regretting your choice. You should have checked the time or send a message ahead.

        "No, I was just watching a movie. What's up?" He sat up and stretched to get rid of the stiffness in his body. 

        "I was doing math and I am stuck on this one problem." You mumbled, embarrassed. 

        "Look at you! Doing your homework!" He chuckled, making you roll your eyes "Let me see" you shifted your camera towards the notebook on your bed. The explanation was brief and quite simple, much to your surprise, but instead of hanging up you ended chatting casually. Only when he made himself more comfortable on his bed, you saw the background. "Is that you on the photos?" You asked, trying to cran your neck to see better. 

        He paused for a moment before confirming your guesses with a nod.

        "Can I see?" You interjected excitingly.

        He slowly turned the camera towards his desk. A photo of him in a baseball suit adored your screen. He would be about ten,smiling brightly to the camera, or you guessed, his parents, proudly holding his bat. In the next he was in the arms of his parents, clearly celebrating his second birthday, judging by the number on that cake. And in the third he was in highschool on his sides Minho and the black haired boy that you vaguely recognized as Jeongin. He wasn't smiling full on the last one, a small smile adored his face. 

        "You were so cute!" You exclaimed, laughing. You couldn't see his face as he hadn't turned the camera yet but you knew he would be scoffing at you. "Don't you have more photos?" 

         "A few.." Short it was the reply and his tone anxious but that didn't fazed you in the slightest.

         "Show me" you demanded, making yourself comfortable.

      And so, he did show the few ones he had in his room. He even ventured into to his living room to show the bigger pictures his parents had hung up. Once again in the safety of his room, you were gussing over his photos

      "You really were a beautiful child!"you teased him. 

      "Yeah. Right" he scoffed and paused for a bit. He met your stare through the camera and immediately lowered it as he softly spoke again. "You know my schoolmates used to tease me a lot. Not really bullying, but.. they would say-" he paused as if he said too much.

      The cheery atmosphere shifted. His uncomfortable state wasn't something that sat right with you. It felt wrong to see such a level headed person being anxious over sharing his past experiences. You bit your lip, wondering if you should let it go or encourage him to talk to you. A look at his lowered head had you gently speaking words of encouragement. "If you wanna talk about it, I will listen" 

      He raised his head and looked at you. He was thinking hard about this, but after a good look at you, he signed and continued his story. "They would call me mouth-monster or ugly. I had braces when I was younger, as you saw." You had thought they were adorable. Why would they tease him about something as simple as this?

    "They didn't really continued it for long. Only a couple of months. Maybe a year top. But..you know. Later, I learned Minho threatened them to stop. And who saw Minho and wasn't scared of him. I really own him one" He let out a humorless laugh.

       He was trying to talk about it as if it didn't bother him, as if he was untouchable and it broke your heart a little. He was facing down again, not really looking at you so you coed him gently. 

    "That's why I went into the dentist care. I guess I wanted to help the kids that were like me. Maybe if I was told earlier I wouldn't have to wear them and-..." He looked at you from underneath his lashes. "Maybe if I had been told that I have a beautiful smile more often, it would have been better.. different"

    You could only look at the boy in front of you, your heart breaking at his soft admission. He only wanted someone to tell him he's beautiful. And damn you, if you didn't!

       "Seungmin I think you were beautiful as a child. And I think you are even more beautiful as an adult. You have a amazing smile and you are kind to talk about it as if they aren't the scum bags."  That one got a laugh out of him. "Have you seen the comments on your Instagram? They were fighting over who got to have you" you joked, trying to lighten the mood.

      And it worked as a flush was covering his face now and an embarrassing laugh left him. "But really shouldn't think that about yourself. You are wonderful and you should see yourself as that. You only have yourself in this lifetime. Treasure yourself, Minnie" 

        He looked as if he would cry for a moment, but then he smiled at you. That smile at the photo, the mega watt full smile that lit up his whole face. You couldn't keep a smile off your own face.

      "My eyes! I am blinded by beauty!" You cried and flang yourself out of the screen. 

     "Y/N!!" Giggles left your phone, showing Seungmin also yeeting himself out of the screen. You layed down and brought the phone closer to your face. He mimicked your stance and the conversation flowed down on more easy paths.

      "Don't you have your own home?!" You asked incredulously as your video call was answered once again by none othe than Jeongin himself. 

      "I can say the same for you, Noona! Don't you have other..friends to call?" He said with a pause full of meaning, his foxy eyes almost staring you down. You felt the blood rush to your face at his words and sure enough you were red. 

    "Seungmin!" You called again in hopes of catching his attention.

    "Mmm" he mumbled mid bite, his mouth and fingers stained from the chips he was munching on. He briefly looked over to you before returning his gaze back to the screen.

     "Did you really call me to watch Brooklyn 99 together?" You asked, amused by the boy with the stuffed cheeks in your screen. 

      "Yeah! Now shhhh! We're missing the best part!" He whined, pointing to the tv you couldn't see. 

    You laughed at him but turned on your laptop and went with it.

     The morning air was biting you in the ass. 

     The crispy winter morning wasn't tolerable at all and if only your dad didn't drug you here for your morning holiday tradition, you would be happily sleeping away the cold. But here you were with a basket on your hands and trailing behind him, half awake. 

       "What gift should we buy for grandma and grandpa?" He wondered as he inspected a pink wooly shawl. 

       "Probably something for the winter would be good. You know they get cold easily." You thought out loud, inspecting the shawl as well. It seemed warm and you adored the color.

       "Should we?" He asked back just as unsure. Your grandparents never asked for anything for the holidays. They always accepted their gifts, whatever they were, with a smile and the familiar line of 'it was exactly what I wanted'. You snorted to yourself, they were too nice to tell you that you weren't cut out for gift buying. 

       Suddenly as you rounded an other corner of the market, a stall caught your attention. The stall was full of baseball merchandise. But what caught your attention was a cap. It had the SK Wyverns logo on it and it was a nice shade of dark blue. For some reason, you saw it and immediately thought of Seungmin and how well it would fit him. 

     You didn't know you stopped walking until you heard your dad calling you. You snapped your head towards him, sheepishly and turned your attention back on the cap. You called the shop owner over and asked for a prize. It was a reasonable price, that's why you were buying it. Besides you had bought some gifts for the others, it would sadden him not to receive anything. 

      Your dad was quiet during the whole exchange, but you felt him figgeting beside you and working his courage to speak up. You wish he wouldn't. 

    "So who is the lucky guy

     But he did.

     "No one, just my friend." 

     "Hmm. You have a friend"

     "Daaaad!" you whined, clearly not wanting to continue talking about it. But the old man paid you no mind and continued his 'investigation'. 

        "So when did you meet?"

        You let out a breath. He wasn't letting it go. "He is my tutor. We met in the beginning on the semester. I was failing and-"

        "You are failing?" He asked shocked. He turned towards you, alarmed and worried. 

        "I WAS falling. Keep up, dad. Seungmin helped me raise my grades back up." 

         He wasn't in a good state to hear anything right now "Honey we have talked about this. If you are having troubles with school, you tell me. I know you said you wanna work but if this is too much for you.. You don't have to work-"

      "I have to work. How else can I support myself?" you cut him off, facing forward. You had strayed from the market paths and you were now walking to your truck. 

      "Excuse me? You say that as if I don't support you! Y/N we said that, if it compromise with your studies you would -" 

      "You said! I didn't said anything!" You talked back, already feeling the blood rushing to your head.

       "Y/N!" He roared, taking you by surprise. Dad never yelled. He must be extremely furious to raise his tone like that. But right at this moment you couldn't force yourself to care, as you were in a similar state. "Do you have to be that damn stubborn all the time! We have talked about this! I didn't agree to you working in the first place! You-! Ugh! You still did! But! But this! This is taking things too far!" He spit on your face, his face growing redder and redder by the minute. 

     "You can barely manage here! How can you manage me too?!"you were both shouting at this point, anger taking over.

      He took a step away from you, breathing heavily from his nose. You did the same catching your breath, your eyes were misty and you hated that. So you turned to the truck you had unconsciously reached, placed your things inside and stepped back. You turned to your father, who was stomping his way to the driver's seat and told him sharply "I will go and see if I can buy something for grandma and grandpa. I will see you at home" 

    You didn't expect an answer, you simply closed the door (albeit with a little more force than necessary) and disappeared into the crowd. 

       You wandered quite a bit, passed stalls and merchants as they shouted loudly to be heard over the others. You stopped in a few stalls to inspect some things that catch your fancy, but with your temples throbbing and your teeth still gritted on anger, you couldn't appreciate them right. So you wandered aimlessly across the market some more, until you grew tired and cold. You knew a place, where they sell the most amazing hot chocolate you've ever tasted and it was near the market so you headed there. It was a small shop, colours of yellow, green and white blended all together to create a childlike atmosphere that seemed to make you lighter when you headed in. You ordered your hot chocolate and sat at the window, trying to calm down.

     Theoretically, you knew that your dad cared for you and that's why he told you to quit and pay attention only to school, but he would't be able to afford to pay for everything. You wanted to be able to go out and party with your friends without worrying if the money would be enough. You wanted to lighten the amount of rent your dad paid and help him around the house too. Help with your grandparents' meds and expenses too. 

     You signed and took out your phone to check the hour. 11:45 pm. It was still early for your next bus. 

     You unlocked your phone and played with it for a bit, before checking your messages. Yuqi and Yuna had replied to your last message and you had been sent memes by Wooyoung and.. Seungmin? You opened the message and saw it was a mathematical meme. Classic Seungmin. You laughed and called his number before realizing. When he answered after the first beep, you were shook out of your stupor. 

      "Hello?" He called "Y/N?"

      "Hey. Yeah, it's me" you whispered shallowly. Why did you even call?

      "What's up?" He asked.

      "Nothing.. Nothing much! I just..wanted to chat" you said, not really knowing what to say. "Sorry I didn't know you were busy. I will talk-"

      "It's okay. We just arrived with Jeongin to the rooms and we would take a rest anyway."

       "Ohh right. You went skiing this weekend. How is it?" You asked as you nursered the rest of your chocolate. 

      "It's nice! The snow is thick enough so we can go skiing tomorrow" he exclaimed, clearly excited to slide through the snow and down the hill.

      "Tell Jeongin to take videos of you falling. I need something to laugh at" you teased him lightly, still watching the busy market out of the window. 

      "..Y/N? Are you okay?" He asked quietly, probably sensing you weren't in the best mood. After months together when you didn't talk his ear off it was a red flag, you supposed. 

       "Mmm. Everything's fine" you replied.   

Silence greeted you on the other side of the line and then. "If you wanna talk about it, I will listen" 

     A snort left you. "Gosh, I hate when you throw my words back to me" He laughed along with you trying to lighten up your mood.      "Annoying isn't it?"he asked, still laughing. 

     "Yeah..it is" you paused briefly,  but the need to tell him made you open your mouth again. "I had a fight with my dad." It was quiet for a moment, only the rustle of the bed as he sit up was heard. 

      "About?" He wondered.

     "He found out that I was doing bad at math. He said to stop working and focus on school." You played with your cup, twirling it around in your now warm hands. People were slowly filling the store, but the seats around you remained empty.

      "Okay" he dragged the word, trying to select his words carefully "And why did you fight?" 

       "It's just...money is tight, dad is struggling to make meet's end and pay for my grandparents' expenses. I am on scholarship and if I fail, it would only be more money-" you couldn't complete your sentence as tears choked you up.

 Gosh you hated this. 

 You didn't like to cry. And there you stood, in a crowded shop, your only company your phone with tears streaking down your face.

      He on the other line was panicking, never heard you cry this easily before.  "Hey! Hey! Don't cry! Take a big breath for me."

     And you listened to his instruction. You gulped as much air as you you could "Good. Good. Take more breaths for me" he coaxed you.

     Breath in.

     Breath out.

 You continued breathing, calming yourself enough.

     "Ok?" He asked, uncertain.

     "Yeah..I just.. don't wanna be a burden to him. I wanna help. If I have a job that means one less worry for him. It isn't easy, I don't want to work all the time. I wanna have fun but I can't be a burden to him, Seungmin." you sniffled. It was as simple as that. 

       "You are not a burden-" he started, but you cut him off ready to go at it.

      "I am! I am a burden to you too! I made you agree to this deal! I had a lot to win, you didn't. I am burdening you-" you swallowed back a sob. Your throat was clogging up again and some costumers where starting looking your way.

      "Y/N. You are not a burden. Don't say that" he pleaded, starting to sound upset as well. 

     You paused, gathering your thoughts, trying to explain to him in a more effective way.

      "You asked me before why I was in marketing... It's always needed. You always need to sell a product. If you always need to sell, I would always be needed, so I will always have a job and income" you quietly said. 

     You were simple really. You were a little greedy, a little chatty and sometimes over confident for no good reason. 

      "Y/N listen to me. You are not a burden. You knew how to make a deal. You gave me a solution. If you were cruel about it, you could have told everyone but you didn't. You care about your father and don't want to weight him down. You are working hard and at your own expense, you are struggling. You are a good daughter and a good friend. And for what matters, I am glad I met you. You encourage me to try new things, that I wouldn't dare to try. I don't want you to think bad of yourself." He instructed you. He made everything you did sound like a noble act, it couldn't be so far from it.

      You moved the phone slightly away from your face and sniffled quietly. A new bunch of tears were wetting your face, sobs racked your body and at this point you were panting for breath. He had really moved you. And even though you knew he was saying some of those things because you were a little sad, you decided to enjoy the comfort and question yourself later. It made you feel a little better all the same. 

      "Thank you" you got out.

      "Your welcome." He replied right away "Y/N can you take some more breaths for me please? Where are you now?" He asked. Was he concerned? He sounded frustrated enough and like he was pacing up and down on his room. 

     "Out. We came to the market with dad. He..left but I have a little more shopping to do." You sheepishly replied, leaving the walking away from the car incident out of the conversation. You already over shared.

       "You should head home and talk with your dad. And call me after. Okay?" The pacing had seized and a loud thud was heard maybe as he landed on the bed. 

       "Okay.." you said slowly, now more in control of your breathing "You sent me pictures of your trip, okay?" It would be wonderful to see something as pretty as the snowy mountain.

        "Okay" he mumbled more quietly now, as if he was being heard. Maybe Jeongin come in. "Talk to you later" he said and you half- heartly bid him goodbye.

        The ride home was a long one. You thought over and over what to say to your dad. You were a bit cruel and you exaggerated a lot. An apology should be the first thing that leaves your mouth, you concluded. 

        As you neared the door, it flew open revealing your very worried dad. He looked trousled, his hair (or whatever was left of it anyway) was messy as if he run his hands relentlessly, his face was flushed as he was crying. 

         "Dad what-?" Was all you managed to get out, before you were cradled into his arms. He didn't talk, just squeezed you harder. A sound like a sniffle was heard and just as you made to question it, you were drugged on the inside. 

        "Dad?"you questioned, standing still. He was pacing back and forth now right in front of you in the middle of your living room. "Dad!" You exclaimed successfully catching his attention. "I am sorry"

        He looked at you before engulfing you between his arms again. "No, baby. I am sorry" And with that sentence it was like he opened up the gates and tears welled up in your face.

      "I didn't want to be a burden! You have so- so much going on h-here! And! And I was t-trying to do w-what I can on my own" you sobbed. Your nose was blocked and your voice wobbled as you tried to get the point across.

        Just then hands cradled your face making you meet his eyes. "Baby..you are not a burden. It is my duty as your father to provide for you. You don't have to think about money all the time. I am here for you" 

       Hearing those words you broke down again in the safety of his arms, your troubles seemed so little and insignificant. For now you could be a little vulnerable and less tough. 

    Hours later, you were freshly bathed and in bed, ready to go to sleep when your phone rang. You reached over to your desk to grab it. Only to see a familiar name flashing across your screen. 

     "Hey Minnie" you whispered. 

     "Hey.. how are you? You.. didn't call so I... yeah" It was quiet on his end, he should be in his room by now, tired from the day's activities but he still made the effort to call you. You felt grateful you had met such good people. 

      "I am good. We talked about everything. Maybe I will cut back a few days to relax and study a bit more." You said as you cuddled into the bed, the emotional day finally catching up with you. You felt your eyes drop, but you willed them to open up again.

      "That's good. You should rest more. You deserve it" he replied back, tone gentle. You weren't used to hearing him like that. Sweet and gentle.

     "Seungmin.. thank you. It means a lot to me that you called"you said quietly. Hoping you weren't dumping much on him. 

       Quiet was all you heard through the line for a bit and then "I wanted too. I wanted to comfort you as you did to me the other day. I don't talk much about that time and it felt.. good...that the first thing you said to me about that period ,where I was not in a good state..it was that my smile was shinning" 

        You smiled. For some reason, hearing you made him feel lighter and happy made you lighter in return. It always did for some reason. All the times that he did things out of his comfort zone, all the times he followed along with your schemes, everytime he smiled at you and comforted you. You liked it..

    You liked him. 

    You blinked twice at the sudden though.            You liked him?

   Your first thought about the guy was that he was way too stuck up and insufferable to get along with. Where did all this came from? Maybe from all the times he cared, when you twisted your leg, when he cared for you when you were drunk, when you silently sat at your home and watched dramas, when he came by the coffee shop to sit with you. 

      Ohh. You were officially fucked.

     "Y/N?"

     His voice pulled you out of your daydream. Face completely flushed at this point, lips bitten to shreds and eyes wide you only could stare at your phone.

       "Y-Yeah! I-I was looking for my charger! This thing always runs out of battery" you explained, thankful for once for your ability to lie easily. 

      "Maybe if you didn't spent all of your day on your phone the battery would be okay" he teased, trying to get a reaction out of you. And he got it

        "Hey!" you whined loudly to your speaker. But the only response was his giggles, that warmed your heart a little more. Suddenly you didn't want to got off the phone, you want to hear him speak idly about his day and poke fun at you. So you asked just that and as if he was thinking the same he eagerly spoke.. It was well into the morning when you hang up, your heart lighter than ever and a silly smile plastered onto your face, even in sleep.

      Fifteen days passed before you could even blink.

    The cheery homey atmosphere at home, the meetings with your friends and the calls with Seungmin filled your day to the brim. 

Yesterday was the first shift of the year. It was lovely to see all your coworkers and friends together again. Your boss, being the generous woman that she was, had prepared gifts for everyone. You had been gifted a black ribbon that served as a hair tie. It was adorable. And a discreet reminder to tie your hair during work hours. 

your hair during work hours.

      Now you stood before the library, waiting at your usual spot for Seungmin, with your own gift in your hands. The cap was nothing much and you were sure it wasn't even original, but along with the pair of blue mittens and a scarf, you hoped they were enough.

 You eyed the people coming.

 No sign of Seungmin yet. 

A quick glance at your phone told you, it was a minute past your agreed time so you would let it slide. You busied yourself by replying to some texts from Hong Joong and Ryunjin, when you felt a presence behind you. With a quick glance, you found yourself looking straight into a pair of chocolate eyes. 

    You yelped from the surprise and the closeness. "Kim Seungmin!" You barked, hands coming to clutch your heart. Furious giggles greeted you in return. You looked up to see him, the two weeks apart treated him good. He seemed refreshed and lively, who knows what kind of mischief he had caused along with Jeongin. You instinctively reached up and slapped away his hand, that was covering his smile. He didn't dodge your efforts, letting himself be hit.

     "Hello" he said when his giggles seized.

     "Hi"you got out.

 He looked even cuter on person, was your first thought. You mentally slapped yourself. Come on Y/N! You have known him since October! You were together almost every day since mid October! Those were the rose tinted glasses people talked about. "How was your break?" 

       "As you don't know" he said, rolling his eyes. "We have been talking almost everyday" he quoted and starting walking towards the double doors of the library. 

      "Wait!" You yelped, clutching nervously his gift. You were beginning to sweat purposefully and you felt way beyond yourself. "I...um..I got you this!" You thrusted the cute bag in front of you, body all stiff.

       He cocked his head to the side and walked over to where you stood. Gingerly he reached for the bag, opening it gently as you would take it away from him. Slowly a smile spread on his face, he looked up briefly to you and then down again on his gift. He took it out and wore it, with a proud smile on his face. "How do I look?" He asked, turning his head from right to left so you can see him from all the possible angles.

       "Adorable" you teased, now at ease. Blue suited him, you thought and you told him so, your words bringing a pretty flush on his ears. He then cleared his throat and began searching in his backpack. After a beat, his hands come up clutching a small white bag. With a embarrassed smile, he extended the bag to you.

       "I guess we had the same thought" he explained, looking over your head before fleetingly meeting your eyes. You felt a warm feeling spreading over your body as you gazed from him to your gift. You sent a big toothy smile his way before taking the bag and taking a look inside. Inside the bag sat a smaller bag made of tulle, which contained the most beautiful pair of earrings you had seen. A dangly thing it was. A single pink cherry blossom sat, where you supposed your lobe would be and from it three almost invisible chains ran down, petals sprinkled over the chains. You loved them. 

      "Thank you Seungmin. I love it" you said, tucking it safely back into the box. 

      He smiled at you and shaked his head. "It just reminded me of you. Shall we?"he asked, pointing at the building behind you. 

        "We shall" you answered.

     The next few days were a dream.

 You all came back, hang out, had multiple night outs and had been having a blast. 

You hadn't noticed how Seungmin had warmed himself up in your daily routine. You met almost daily, his friends always lurked around the cafe, either because they were working in it (insert Jisung) either because they enjoyed the place. You had officially met Jeongin, who you always chatted with on your video chats with Seungmin, but never actually met. He was a sweetheart and always ready to mercilessly tease the grumpy boy.

       But, unfortunately, you were not the only ones that reconnected. Soojin and Seungmin reconnected. And they reconnected really good.They had been actively hanging out. Mainly on the cafe, occasionally out of it. You saw their stories and how they discussed where they would be going. 

       And you were seething.

       You wondered all those past months.. how did you manage to stand this? Not only you had to watch them on your shifts, you had Seungmin telling you all about his conversations with her. On the past you had no problem, now things were...a little different. But you hadn't had the heart to tell him to stop talking. You always wanted to hear him talk about things that made him excited, even this.

     Today though was your day though.

 You had a new series you wanted to watch. You had prepared masks and facials you had been dying to try out. As you searched through the fridge you realized. You had forgotten the beer. Usually your fridge was fully stocked and ready to serve, but a certain non drinker (as he had called himself) had been through 5 cans of beer the last time he was here leaving you dry. As you were contemplating running a quick errand to the market down the street, your phone rung. You checked the caller, seeing exactly what you wanted. 

     "Seungmin! Perfect timing! We ran out of beer. Can you get some on your way here?" You asked as you filled up the bowl with your favourite barbeque pop corn. 

     "Y/N...I hate to do this but do you think we can .. reschedule?"he said, tone slightly off.

     You assumed the worst. Seungmin was nothing if not punctual.

     "Are you okay? Do you feel alright? Did something happened with Minho or Jeongin?"you stressed, hands immediately flying up to trousle your tresses.

     "No! No, I.. had made plans with Soojin and I kinda mixed the days"he said, carefully.

     Oh.

     Of course he would prefer to spend his night with Soojin than you. You bit your lip, unsure what to do. Of course you minded. Not only it was the second time he did that to you, it was for the same person as well. But you couldn't exactly tell him that, could you? "No..I.. don't mind. Have fun" you slowly said, voice void of emotion in order not to betray your true one. 

     For a moment you thought that he would question you about your tone and your robotic manner, but he eventually signed. "I will make it up to you. I swear" he said.

     You hummed and muttered a simple goodbye. Energy suddenly drained and with your mood bungee jumping through the floor, you decided a wine or a beer would be definitely needed after all. So you grumpily grabbed your coat and your old sneakers making a bee line to the store. You entered, greeted the cashier and taking your familiar basket to browse the selves for anything that caught your fancy. You had a couple chocolate bars in it and you were standing in front of the fridge with the alcohol when the sound of your name being called grabbed your attention. 

     Turning your head, you met with a two coloured head and a bright smile.

 Hong Joong. 

 You smiled and waved him over.

     "I haven't seen you since before the holidays!" He exclaimed as a greeting, crushing you into a bear hug. 

     "Happy New Year Joongie!" You giggled, as you took a step back. His stare fell from your face to your basket to the fridge you were currently standing in front of. 

     "Not so happy right now, is it?" He asked knowingly. A grimace overtook your face, not being able to lie, you nodded.

     "I admit it could have gone better" you signed and then asked, half turned to him, half scanning the alcohol. "Did you finish your project?"

     "Yeah! We still have a check over left, but it was all smooth sailing" he laughed, clearly at ease. You envied him. Especially now, that the exams were looming over your head with the threat of expulsion. And there was the thing with Seungmin. You know the recently discovered and one sided feelings you had for him. Your thoughts must have manifested on your face because soon he was asking what's wrong. 

     "My friend, to tell the story it would take a long time and alcohol" you preached, eyeing the strawberry flavored soju bottle. 

     "I got time" he announced, making you turn at him. You raised your eyebrows and he nodded. 

     "In that case what kind of soju flavor do you prefer?" You required.

    After a few hours later and some (a lot) of drinks later you were okay. Your second tutor became the first one to learn of your feelings for your third one. Ironic. But Hong Joong had a calmness that made you feel perfectly at ease telling him that. He had adviced you to go for it and he had admitted he thought you guys were already dating. You had snorted at this.

   You wished. 

    But Hong Joong was wrong. He had been right about Seungmin curling himself up and begging for mercy as he did that the very next morning. But he hadn't seen coming the next rejections. 

    Three weeks in and Seungmin had cancelled on you 5 times. Soojin this, Soojin that. You had grown tired of hearing how great the girl was. Not to mention insecure. She was pretty, nice, kind. What hasn't she had? And do you have? 

    You tried to drown your feelings and feigned empathy towards the sudden cancellations and ruined plans. But you felt heavier with every ruined outing or night in. Those 5 times were enough for your eyes to shine maliciously green. You were beyond yourself jealous and you didn't know what to do and how to act before Seungmin anymore. Maybe a little more distance would do you good, maybe you could salvage a little of your heart. Yeah, a little distance is good.

    And apparently you must wear your heart on your sleeves because Seungmin caught right on. He apologized about the plans alright, but now every time you made plans you would find an excuse to avoid him. You had to go shopping with Yuqi or you had agreed to meet with Hong Joong and you couldn't cancel last minute. You even tried to cut down on your study time and that's when he knew that something was definitely wrong, after all exams were a mere 3 weeks away and you needed that time. 

    Ηe stepped up then. 

    That's why today you waiting for him in your house, practically vibrating with nervous energy. He seemed on guard when he called you. Almost awkward. But then he probably mimicked your own behavior. Your lips were bitten to shreds and your nails bloody by the time the doorbell rung. You gulped down as much air as you could and you opened the door. 

  And there he stood. 

  The cap you had gifted him on his head, black puffer jacket engulfing him and with an adorable flush on his cheeks, probably from the cold. You took a step back, inviting him in silently. He made his way into your home, now the surroundings familiar to him and plopped down to your couch. He cocked his head to the empty side of the couch, silently asking you to seat. 

     You made your way to him and before you could even sit on the couch, he started the interogation. 

     "What is going on?" He asked, always his straightforward and level headed self. 

     Truth or lie, that is the question. But right now lying seemed like your only ally. "What do you mean?" You asked carefully. 

     "I mean you are avoiding me. You are cancelling our plans. You even wanted to cancel the lessons!" His voice was steady, raising slightly at the end, making you feel even worse for a moment. And then you remembered the scene of them sitting together at the cafe, the phone call to cancel your plans and the words flew out of your mouth without your consent.

   "Like you didn't do the same" you returned, a scoff leaving you. 

      His eyes widen at the mockery that was present in your voice, but they quickly changed, they seemed like steel now. "I cancelled on you once" he reasoned, hands coming together to grip each other tightly. "Only once"

      "No, you cancelled after we already made plans once. You had been pushing around the dates that we planned and the hangouts 5 times at least! I guess that happens when you get a girlfriend" you commented, lips pulled back in a snarl, your face an menacing grimace now. 

      "Ohh so you can hang out with Hong Joong, but I can't hangout with Soojin" he chided, tone ice cold.

      "Don't compare the two. It's totally different" you reasoned, frustration causing your voice to raise. You turned to face him fully on the couch now, he seemed as agitated as you felt. "Besides I hanged out with Hong Joong the times that you left me stranded" you spat.

      He flinched at that. Head hanging low for a beat and then raising again, ready for a duel. "I like Soojin that's why I am hanging out with her. You were supposed to be happy for me. That was the deal" 

      It was your time to flinch at that. That was a low blow, even though he didn't know. "So why don't you go now to her?" You bitterly asked, looking away.

       He sat silent for a moment. Staring at his hands. When his voice shattered the silence.

  "I will confess tomorrow. That's what I wanted to tell you" he breathed, twisting his hands nervously at the thought, letting his guard down for a second.   

      Your heart plummeted in response to those words. It felt like an invisible hand went through your chest, grabbing your poor heart with its only purpose to rip her right out. 

Your vision that stayed nailed to the faded corner of your coffee table started blurring little by little, like you were looking at the world through mist eyed lenses. You closed your eyes not wanting to let the tears escape and betray the deviation you were felling inside right at this moment.

      "I guess the deal is over.. But I..I will see you around Y/N." He smiled an odd uncomfortable smile that showed the confusion he was feeling, and even though not a word come out of your mouth, he got up, gathered his things, walked to the front door and left.     

       Upon hearing the sound of the door closing the tears that you tried so hard to keep, were now slowly dripping down your face. Your mouth was trembling, lifting and dropping, as if it couldn't decide what expression to keep to express your sorrow better. Even breathing was more difficult now, due to the blockage in your nose. But all that wasn't what was important right now.

 You were losing him.You had lost him before having a chance to tell him how you feel.     

    Suddenly you weren't on the sofa anymore, you were up and running. Running after him. You flew out of the door and raced towards the stairs, you didn't have time to wait for the elevator to arrive, instead you headed to the stairs. When you reached the entrance your breath was unstable and the place under your ribs hurting from the sudden work out but you paid them mo mind. You run outside, turning your head left and right trying to locate his disappearing figure. There! There he was! By the end of the street, a lone figure, coat clad and on top of his head sat a very familiar cap. Your gift to him specifically. 

       "SEUNGMIN!" You yelled with all your might. He heard your panicked call and turned towards you. But before he could take a step to your direction, you were already running. Running before time caught up with you. 

      You reached him, panting from the rally. He looked beautiful. In the middle of the street, lights hitting him just right to appear ethereal, his hoodie and black thick coat made him appear warm in the cold winter night, almost like a beacon, calling you closer. His capped head cocked slightly to his right made him more adorable as he waited for you to breath normally and tell him why you chased after him.

    "I like you" you blurted out incapable of controlling your feelings anymore. "I like the way you always scold me when I do the wrong thing so I can try harder, l like when even though you pretend to be cold you are always so considerate, I like how you are always so adamant to be right and react so adorable when things don't go your way, I like how passionate you are. I like how we can be silent and watch stupid shows together. I like how you sent me every little thing you thing it's cute so you can share it with me. I like how easy are to get with, contrary to first opinions. I like how I am with you. I like who I am because of you. I like you Kim Seungmin" Tears were still filling your vision, you could now see your breath in front of you in the darkness of the night but you didn't care. You needed to tell him, you had told him and right then you felt so light like you could float away. 

     One look in his wide eyes though, told you that maybe you should fly away, flew the scene and most devastating of all something told you that maybe you couldn't have your chance after all.  

       "Y-Y/N I..I-" he tried getting out and your whole world tumbled down. "I don't know- I am not sure if I feel the same-" he could have stabbed your heart and it would hurt less than what you were feeling right now. 

He doesn't know. 

  A new set of tears came to your eyes, but this time you were incapable of holding them in. A sob was clawing it's way out of your throat, only escaping a mere second before you slapped your hand over your mouth in order to keep it in.

    "Y/N!" He exclaimed, taking a step towards you, hand raised as if to wipe your tears away, but your shaken step back stopped him. You shook your head as you took another step back. He didn't want you. Even though you told him everything.. he didn't want you. You turned around and blindly runned.

 "Y/N!!Y/N wait!"  He shouted after you.

   Nothing stopped you though.

   He didn't stop you. 

   An excruciating pain clawed at your chest making you blind to anything except your inner turmoil. You reached your apartment door in a pained haze, bursted in and let your sobs take over. Painful sob after painful sob racked you, making you unable to comprehend anything around you. You didn't know how much time you spent there against your front door, crying your heart out. All you knew was that you were light headed, your ears were ringing and your grip over the world was slipping. 

  It was exactly as you feared. 

  You had told him and you weren't enough to keep him. 

You weren't everything he wanted. 

You weren't good enough to love. 

You would never be good enough. 

You picked yourself up from the floor, took the remaining steps towards the sofa and slumped over it. You hadn't enough strength to fight the oblivion from taking over. The last image your mind concurred was of Seungmin-wide eyed in reaction to your confession and tears slipped down your eyes again as you finally slipped into the oblivion.

     After that night you had made it your mission to avoid him at all costs. 

  Your shame and pettiness didn't allow anything less than that. 

You had blocked both his number and his instagram, which you had crafted slowly together.

 Seungmin had made several attempts to contact you ever since that night. He had come by your workplace as he had deemed the phone useless by now but you had taken a couple days off work. Not wanting to worry your father with an unexpected surprise and not wanting to be alone in your apartment, you had crashed at Yuqi's for a few days, hoping your dramatic ass wasn't too much for her. Her roommate Soyeon rolled her eyes at you for crying over a boy but joined your pity party anyways, not able to resist pizza. 

    With exams drawing near, you unfortunately had to study. Looking at your notebooks and books filled with Seungmin's neat handwriting you felt like they mocked you. But you had to get through this, for this stupid scholarship you made the deal, for this you broke your heart. 

    Eventually you had to get back to work. Your days went smoothly, you ticked in, greeted your regulars, small talked with Jisung and now you were on the front on cashier's duty. You heard the door opening and you opened your mouth automatically to greet the customer, but the sight in front of you left your mouth dry. Seungmin bursted through the door, panting as he made a bee line straight to you. He came with such strength that he collided against the counter. He looked wild, hair a mess and clothes hastily put on. 

        "Y/N! Where- Nevermind! I need to talk to you." He got out, hands inching over the counter to reach you. 

      But you took a step back and with a tone as cold as you could muster you stated "I don't have anything to talk about with you" You could do this. You spent enough days crying over him. You wouldn't cry anymore. 

       "Please! I have to tel-" 

       "Seungmin." You cut him off, staring him dead in the eye. His desperate appearance and big eyes made you crumble a little inside. "I said everything I had to say. You gave me your answer. We have nothing to talk about" 

       "No you don't understand. I-" he rushed his words in order to get something across, but to his bad luck and to your good one, a customer cut your conversation short.

       "Excuse me? Can I order?" A unfamiliar face inquired. 

         "Yes, of course." You called over Seungmin's shoulder before turning to him "If you excuse me, I have work to do" you ushered him gently to the side and tried to pay him no mind. 

 Seungmin had made several other attempts to contact you.

 You still avoided him as much as you could, but it was a bit difficult when he stood there looking at you. You tried to not talk to him while he tried to corner you. You had instructed Ryunjin to not let him near you. You would break if you did. Even now the sad looks were getting to you. 

    This thing was going on for a week and a half. You hadn't spoken to each other seven days now if you included the small talk by the cashier the other day. You weren't ready to hear him, you weren't ready for him to tell you that he was together and happy with Soojin while you were over here, green with envy and with a large challenge in front of you.

 Exams were starting. 

   You weren't even there, neither mentally nor emotionally. But you had to fight it. Your scholarship depended on it.  

  Fake it till you make it.

  So fake it tou did. You forced yourself to work on your studies. In the mist of it all, little notes had been finding their way into your things.

Don't forget the formula! 

Keep on working hard!

Hope we can talk..

You had a pretty good idea on who was the writer.  

And it pained you greatly. Why was he going through all this trouble. You had gotten his message and while he was being nice trying to make sure you were alright, you would rather he wouldn't. He was making this too hard on you. 

He had Soojin now. All was good, right?

The truth was you hadn't seen him with Soojin,not once. The girl's visits were few now, that she had started on her finals (earlier as all the art students did), but when she appeared she had gifted you a knowing smile. A secret only she knew apparently, because you had no idea why she was looking at you like that. You didn't pointed that out, in fact you hadn't looked at her that much.

 And exams rolled in.

   The first three subjects were a success.. Of course you couldn't escape the dread that filled you everytime you sat behind the desk, but you had managed alright. It was manageable till now, but the big threats (maths and physics, you couldn't even utter their names!) had yet to come. 

 You had picked up less hours at the cafe in order to prepare yourself. You were a tutor down yet again, albeit this time a little more painful.

   And finally the d-day arrived. You raised your head, shoulders pulled back. 

Pens? Check. 

Pencils? Check. 

Water? Check. 

Student ID? Check. 

Note from Seungmin?... Check 

The little yellow note was safely tucked in your pocket last minut,e because you couldn't bear to part with it. He had sticked to your front door last night, you showed it when you came over from work and it had moved you to tears. Gosh, you were such a crybaby now!

 You knew that your conversation was long overdue. Three weeks have already passed and even though you wanted to, you couldn't bring yourself to. 

    But that was a problem that future Y/N had to deal with.

 Now you needed your head in the game. 

You had maths to do, you thought as you marched to your possible doom. 

 You had passed! 

The endless hours, the blood, the sweat and the tears you had spilled were all worth it. Admittedly you had made it barely, but you had made it! You had made an exceptional progress on physics too, acquiring a better grade than you originally thought you would.

   You were beyond happy and your immediately thought was of your beloved tutor. You should contact him, firstly to thank him and secondly for a conversation you had apparently left in the middle, what was left to say was beyond you. 

    You were playing with your phone currently, the contract named Puppy open and ready to be called. You bit your lips, your finger hovering above the button when a voice stopped you on your track.

   Soojin.

    "Hello Y/N" she pleasantly greeted, an ever lasting smile on her face.

   "Soojin, hi. The usual?" You asked, not in the mood for pleasantries. You had already turned your back to the girl to make her coffee.

   "To go, please" she called sweetly to you, getting a sharp nod in response. "How is Seungmin?" she asked, voice still dripping honey. You froze. While you didn't know Soojin that well, you didn't think she was the type to gloat in your face about her winning Seungmin's heart. You appeared to be wrong again. 

    "How should I know? Shouldn't I be asking you that?" You returned coldly, trying to hold yourself back. You were at work, you wouldn't be caught fighting like a 6-year-old for a doll you both wanted. Not that Seungmin was a price to be had. He was just as pretty as a doll thought.

    "Ahh, you still didn't talk with him" she signed. You turned to place her drink of choice on the counter, ready for her to be gone. "Why are you avoiding him?" She said, head cocked to the right, making her seem all too innocent for your liking. 

      You almost scoffed "I don't think this is any of your business" you answered while you took her card to ring up her order. 

     For the first time her face turned sour and a determinated pout appeared on her face "Well I am making it my own goddamn business. We talked with Seungmin. We made everything clear. He likes you and I like Eric" she answered, sassiness dripping from her tongue this time. 

    What?

   "What?" You voiced out loud, shock obvious on your face. Seungmin did what? 

    "Yeah, you know tall, blonde and handsome?" She quoted, raising her hand a ridiculous amount above her head to indicate Eric's height. 

    "I know how Eric is! I told him what drink you like for god's shake!" You exclaimed, teeth grinding together. 

     She looked like the cat who got the milk as she thanked you for that. You blinked.

     "I don't understand. You and Seungmin went on so many dates" you mumbled. 

     She looked quite guilty this time "I already apologized to Seungmin about that. I was trying to...make Eric jealous" she admitted, her eyes focused, all of a sudden, on the coffee in her grasp.

     "The photography exhibition?" You asked, dazed.

     "Eric was managing a tent there" she whispered, head low.

    "The movies?" You insisted.

    "A girl from Computer Science had invited him! Gosh, how much I don't like her! She always made heart eyes at him!" She scoffed, sounding much like you when you cursed her in your head.

    You felt your jaw slagging, mouth open whole you stared at her. Really? Seungmin liked you? 

     She glanced at you, seeing how you were taking it all in. "He told me he thought that he liked me. When I asked him what did he meant by 'he thought', he explained the deal to me. He seemed so happy when he talked about you, content." She smiled at you, that knowing smile she had been sending lately. "When I asked him if he perhaps liked you, he blinked and nodded. He even apologized!" She giggled and you joined too. Socially awkward and adorable as always. "He cares about you. And I think you should talk to him, Y/N" she finished. 

    You nodded, still dazed from all the information. She saluted you silently and walked out the door.

    What Soojin said stayed with you. You weren't sure if she was being truthful or not, but you had already decided to contact him, you reasoned with yourself. At least that's what you told yourself as you send the message at 10 p.m. 

       You had fully expected to be left on read for days maybe even to beg him him for a small talk, so the immediate response, needless to say, surprised you. The answer left you at a total loss.

   You immediately tensed up. You hadn't expected him to rush here that late. But better now than never, you guessed. 

    Not even twenty minutes later, there was knocking on your front door. You took a deep breath and opened your door.

     And there he stood. He was panting, as if he sprinted here, his face was flushed and adorably nervous. His eyes ranked over you, taking you in the way you were doing to him right now.

You watched him for a moment too long, the weeks of not seeing him were catching up with you. He looked tired as well, he had bags under his eyes and his face was sucked in. Worry fleetingly took over you as you took a step in his direction, but the way his eyes were, so intensely, focused on you, not shying away, reminded you of your situation. Letting out a breath you took a step back, allowing him to enter your home. His eyes fell from your face momentarily as he took the step in, gently closing your door behind him.

       The two of you stood there, tense and not knowing where to begin. You had said everything that you had to say, so you stood there utterly defeated. Discarded in favor of Soojin by the very boy that stood in your living room. By the very first boy that was begging to win your heart. Or do you thought. If what Soojin had said to you was true...then why reject you? Tears threatened to make an appearance (as they often did those days) but you pushed them back and sucked your cheek. "How have you been? Did you do good on your exams?" You asked, a small smile on your lips as you gestured at your couch.

       He returned the awkward smile you sent him, taking a seat across you. "I am doing.. alright, I guess. I have done well in my exams. You?" He asked, pointing at you. 

         A bigger smile overtook your face. "We did it!" You exclaimed as you wanted to do since the morning that you learned the news.  "I mean, it was a little above average but... I passed nonetheless" you cheered. 

      He made a grimace "A little above average?" He asked, scrunching his nose.

      "What? Will you say you teached me better than that?" You inquired, lounging better in your spot, smiling all the way up to your ears.

     "Will you throw me out if I say that?" He asked, head cocking to the side. His tone was a mix of sassiness and uncertainty.

     You deserved that, you guessed. "No, I will not" you mumbled, not able to look into his eyes. 

    "Then, yes. I taught you better than that" he quoted, lightly giggling to easy up the tension. It brought a smile to your face, but you quickly sobered up.

     "Why are you here, Seungmin?" You asked, plain and simple, tired.

      The boy took a breath, shoulders squaring as if to ready himself "I am sorry" 

A slap. 

Right on your face. You swallowed your words and returned nothing, wanting to hear what he had come here to say. "I was an idiot. A moron. When you told me you..liked me, I hadn't thought about it. I mean..we ar-" he looked at the floor briefly as if willing himself to remember pointers he wrote, but he picked up when he left off shortly "We are close. We talk every day, we joke around, watch movies together. I had gotten used to you, you were an ally, a friend. I hadn't thought about you in..that light.." you turned your face away, facing the wall, a few stray tears escaping your eyes. He took notice of your state, quickly scooting over, closer to you, one hand on your arm, the other gripping feather light the place your neck and jaw connected. You raised your hands, a motion that meant to shoo him away, but he didn't budge. He stood there looking over you, worried and painfully tender. 

      "That was what I thought I felt. But Y/N, I don't face time my friends everyday for hours, I don't text them to remind them to study or eat, I don't have reminders to tell me to text them, I.. don't catch myself thinking they are pretty or wishing they were closer when we are watching movies..I don't dance with them and think they are beautiful and wish I could kiss them." he continued, voice quieter as he went on, the last part almost inaudible. If you weren't in front of him, almost locked in his arms, you wouldn't be able to hear him. 

But you could. 

And your heart was pumping so hard that you could hear it in your ears, your breath was short. You were hanging from his every word. What? What was he saying? 

"I didn't ran like a madman to find a pair of earrings for them. The exact copy of the earrings they were looking at the festival..I failed at that one, but I think cherry blossoms suit you better anyway" he breathed, a low laugh escaping him. How he could remember that was beyond you. Had he always paid that much attention to you? 

"I don't go mad when I don't talk to them for a few days" he whined, clearly embarrassed if the flush on his face and ears said something. "I don't beat myself up for hesitating to return their feelings" he finished. 

      That was a confession? "What then?What am I, Seungmin? What am I to you?" You challenged, looking him straight at the eyes. Yours reflected resolution and a fiery temper, his.. reflected guilt and affection, that much you could read, but also pain and hopefulness. 

    He took a shaky breath and dived in, sealing his lips over your own. You stood frozen for a moment, Seungmin overtaking all of your senses. All you could smell was his manly and wonderful cologne, all you could taste was the mint on his lips and an essence, so clearly him you couldn't explain otherwise. All you could feel were his soft hands clasping you affectionately, his plush lips on your, his eyelashes tickling you gently. All you saw, before closing your eyes, was fluffy hair and his beautiful face coming closer. You got lost in the moment, reciprocating the kiss before your mind could talk you out of it. You reached up, waving your hands into his soft hair, bringing him closer. Your mouth opened, inviting him in and pressed yourself complete onto him, wanting to fell him touch every inch of you. You kissed him fiercely, with a passion, he gladly returned. You felt him draping himself around you, holding you desperately and with a passion you hadn't expected to show to your person.

 All you now was that you were experiencing pure bliss. You didn't want it to end.

        You didn't know how much time you were kissing, tasting each other eagerly, having gotten lost at the feelings but eventually you had to part to get some air inside of you. You didn't exactly separate, he retreated just enough so he can rest his forehead against yours. You could feel his breath in your mouth, that was also covered in the taste of him. You opened your eyes to look at him, seeing him already gazing adoring at you. And then he spoke.

        'I like you" he stated confidently. Face flushed, lips even more kissable than before and eyes alit. "You never were just a friend in my mind. I just...I never have been in a serious relationship..I didn't know what I was supposed to be looking for. But when they asked me what I wanted and I started describing, I realized I was describing you, Y/N" he whispered, nusling closer to your face. The proximity was driving you crazy and his words was making it worse. It was all too much to take in at once. 

  "Soojin" you mumbled, the close distance between your faces allowing him to hear you. "What about her? You said you like her" you mewled, pained. The same guilty feeling resurfaced on his face again and his hands tightened around you. 

       "I am so so sorry" he nearly sniffled. As soon as you heard the little sniffle, alarms went off inside your head and you immediately drew closer, hiding your face on the crook of his neck, arms tenderly patting him for comfort. You felt him rest his head on top of yours and nussle his face in your hair. "I thought I did. I hadn't thought about the chance that you.. I didn't know what I was feeling and God-" he took a big breath and started again "I thought I liked her, but when you confessed, don't get me wrong I was super surprised but I couldn't get you out of my mind, so I told her. And it ended up being alright because she-" 

     "Likes Eric. I know" you completed. 

     "How?" He asked.  

You crewed your neck back in order to see him better and gave him a small smile. "She came over at work. She spilled everything. And for the matter, I think they look cute together." 

   "Hey! Are you calling me ugly?!" He protested lightly, hands tickling you and making you let out loud giggles.

     "Stop!" You shrieked, burrowing yourself deeper in his arms. He did and hugged you tighter in return. "I think you look cuter with me" you cheekily murmured squished against his neck.

   He laughed briefly and slowly he unwinded himself from around you. You immediately missed his warmth.

      "I am so sorry for all of this" he got out, guiltily. "I have made a mistake. A stupid one. And ..and if you take me back I promise not to make the same ones again. I promise to listen to you and try to express myself more...I.."he trailed off, unsure what else to promise you. You quietly giggled to yourself. 

You liked him too much to hold it over him. You liked him too much for you own good.

 So you smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck again. He immediately cradled you near, not missing the chance to hold you. 

      "You promise to never make the same mistake again? And talk to me instead of mumbling nonsense?" You inquired, your hands reaching up to cradle his face gently. He closed his eyes for a moment in tot bliss, before snapping them open and nodding.

      "I promise" he stated. 

       "And you must promise to do what I ask of you" you pouted, dragging the words out, now in a playful mood. 

       But he eagerly nodded his head, taking your every request without complains. "I promise"

       "Even when I ask you to go photoshooting with me?" You wondered, eyes scanning him. But he easily let out a giggle, nodded before ducking to kiss your nose, setting off butterflies in your stomach. You pressed your lips together in order to seal a smile before continuing. 

     "Even when I ask you to watch boring dramas with me?" You asked, eyebrows raising, remembering his distain in your pickings. 

        "Mmhhmm"he let out easily, as his eyes swept over you with literal stars sprawled over them. 

     "Even when the Wyverns are on and you wanna see them?" You mischievously asked, beaming up at him. He chuckled, drawing you closer than ever, not an inch separating your bodies. 

       "Even then" he agreed, content with you in his arms. 

        "You got yourself a deal then" you said, cheekily, peaking up at him. He opened his eyes at the sound of that, meeting your gaze, full of intent and tenderness. Now affection and playfulness twirled in his own eyes, so much in contrast with the cold boy that you had met all those months ago.

        "Deal" he said, reaching down to seal this deal with a press of our lips.

[medstudentblues]

It’s 3 in the afternoon and I woke up about half an hour ago. I got home from Duty (6PM-6AM) at 7am, had breakfast with my favorite dog, and did a requirement before turning in at 8am. Being a Junior Intern for 2 months now, it still astounds me that it is possible to still function after all after more than 24 hours of being awake. It’s tranquil at the moment. I live on the fifth floor of my building so the view is good. I can see the trees swaying outside my window, the sky a gloomy dark blue. It is not that warm, so I slowly sip my coffee so I won’t spend the day sleeping in and nursing an intense migraine from sleeping too much. Doing the 30 days challenge is going good — I am more intentional with how I spend my time and the checklist is motivating.

My night shift wasn’t so bad, except for the fact that I was doing more work that is out of my job description as a Junior Intern — work that residents should do. But it’s alright, residency is hard and it really is impossible to do everything well if you are the sole resident on duty. I helped my resident last night writing Doctor’s orders, referral forms, inserting IVs, extracting blood for cross matching, and doing other errands. My resident is notorious for being obstinate and horrible to Junior Interns that she was rumored to throw a test tube to a JI, but last night she was actually very nice to me. When she noticed I was being overwhelmed with the work, she would help me. When she asked me to help her write Doctor’s orders, she was very kind when she was asking me. She even gave me a 98% grade, when she only gave 80s to others. Perhaps it depends on the Junior Intern, and perhaps it was just a rumor. But even though things were toxic last night, I was still able to finish everything before my shift ended.

Working with people in the hospital is a difficult task since we are always understaffed and overworked. We are all tired and grumpy. Things are always challenging, but on the other side, looking at the bigger picture, we are keeping those kids alive. We are helping them so they can live their childhood normally, and we get to apply the theoretical concepts on real patients… and you know what, those are good enough reasons to keep going.

[lux-scriptum]

I was digging through my Amara tag and found an old ask @cwritesfiction sent that included a reference to an old scene between Amara and a priest. I decided to find it, and I did!

~

Amara hit the ground running, and didn’t look back. She bolted down the street, sprinting through the crowd of people before her. She dove between them, squirming through the crowd despite the cries of dismay. Or maybe it was annoyance. She couldn’t tell, and she didn’t have time to care. She darted into a shop at random. Her breaths came in fierce pants as she moved deeper in the store. Several glances over her shoulder showed no one had followed her. She ducked behind a shelf of books, and only then realized the poor shopkeeper was staring at her.

“Don’t worry. I’m just...” She gave an uncomfortable smile, trying and failing to even out her breaths. “In a hurry. I really, really need...” After a cursory glance, she grabbed a book at random. “I needed this.”

The shopkeeper looked down at the book. Amara followed his gaze, and winced. A Christian Woman’s Guide To Dating all but screamed at her in great big gold lettering. 

She slapped down a few bills when the shopkeeper stuttered out a price. “Keep the change. I’m going to go read.” She scooped up the book, and sat down in the back of the shop. From this angle she could see out the door, and with her back pressed against the wall, no one could sneak up behind her. She flipped the book open, just to keep up appearances. 

She waited about an hour, eyeing each and every customer that wandered in with suspicion. The shopkeeper in turn never stopped watching her. She wasn’t sure if it was suspicion on his part, or anxiety. Either way, it was getting on her nerves. Her sigh made the man jump. She stood, muttered a half hearted thanks to him, and ducked out again. She made it halfway down the block when a nearby payphone started ringing. She almost kept walking, but could have sworn it got louder when she passed it. She turned back, frowning. No one else seemed bothered by it. She prowled closer, and carefully picked up the receiver. “Hello?”

“Amara.”

Of course. She grimaced. “I already know how much trouble I'm in, so a rant is pointless.”

“Where are you?”

“Relax. I’m by some little bookshop downtown. I got a little turned around, and I’m not sure how to get back yet.”

“Again?” She could hear the sigh through the phone. “Do I need to come get you? You should have been back hours ago.”

“Well, I ran into some... ah, trouble.”

“Demons?”

“Mmmhmm.” Amara slid a glance to her surroundings. “It wasn’t me, I swear. They just showed up.”

“I’m coming to get you.”

“Don’t bother. I’ll find a church, and then I’ll be home.”

“You’re going to come back a mess, and I’m going-”

“Good bye, Caelan.” She hung up, taking a great amount of pleasure at the thought of him spluttering at his end. She almost started jogging away, when something occurred to her. She retraced her steps back to the shop again. The shopkeeper didn’t look happy to see her, if his little jerk was anything to judge by. She waved her book at him. “Ah, bag? Please.” 

Book carefully out of sight now, she hurried down the street, not bothering to get directions. As long as she wasn’t being followed she didn't care. Caelan could wait. He’d spent this long waiting. Wouldn’t hurt him to wait longer. 

She felt it before she even heard it. The sense of unease that washed over her was familiar, but annoying. Something was wrong, but that was the story of her life, and it hardly did anything for her. She tucked her hands in her jacket pocket, feeling the familiar weight of the flask in each one. Hopefully she’d be able to remember which one was the holy water, and which one she wasn't supposed to have at all.

She picked up her pace, going as fast as she could without actually breaking into a trot. The unease didn’t fade, instead shifting to coil in the bottom of her stomach. It wasn’t clear where the danger was, but she knew without question someone was following her, and whoever they were, they didn't wish her well. 

That sense had saved her skin more than once over the years. It was vague, and irritating, but it was still useful. At least she knew something was wrong. 

She shifted the bag on her shoulder as she risked a glance around. Her gaze was drawn to one man in particular. The glint of turquoise eyes, too bright to be human, was all she needed to see. She snapped back around, seeking out a chapel with renewed interest. About five blocks down, she could see her destination. Weighing her options informed her that sprinting was a bad idea. 

She broke into a run anyway, darting among the people. Thankfully the crowd was thinning, but that meant if the demon bolted as well he’d have less to slow him down too. She was gasping by the time she darted up the stairs and into the chapel’s doors. She paused to look back. Nothing. She didn’t see anything. The man was gone, and she was getting strange looks.

Ignoring those looks, she edged inside. The sanctuary was empty, for now. Or maybe she hadn’t been loud enough to bring anyone running. Pity. No, not pity, she reminded herself as she prowled down the aisle. She didn’t have time to deal with anyone.

Unfortunately, she didn’t get much choice in the matter. As she meandered down the aisle, a door opened deeper in the building. Not long after, she found herself blinking at a stout man in pressed khakis, who in turn eyed her with no small amount of suspicion. 

“Hi,” she greeted lamely.

He considered her for a beat longer than was comfortable, before asking, “What are you doing in here?”

She scrambled for an answer, and ended up blurting out, “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned,” and made a clumsy crossing motion.

That didn’t seem to be the right answer, because his forehead creased in a frown. “This is a Baptist church.”

Oh. She offered him a small smile. “Well, I still sinned.”

“I see.” His expression worried her, but he merely waved a hand at a pew. “Would you like to talk about it? A Baptist preacher is as much a holy man as a Catholic priest, and I might be able to help.”

It wasn’t like she had any other choice, so she edged past him to settle on the pew. It took all of her self control to not scoot away when he sat beside her. She fiddled with the frayed edge of her shirt, unsure of what to say.

“What has been concerning you?” the preacher pressed gently.

The problem was that Amara had no idea what of her problems she could tell him. She flattened her hands against her legs, and then said, “I steal.” Not untrue. “I pickpocket.” It wasn’t like the angels gave her an allowance. She shot a glance at him, but he had that same expression as before. Where was the anger? All she could see was concern and disapproval. “I drink.” She tugged out one of the flasks, prayed it was the right one, and waggled it under his nose. “You want a sip?”

“You sound more proud of what you’ve done than repentant.”

“I’m not,” she admitted. “Repentant, that is. But I’d like to be. I figured the Church was as good a place to start as any.”

“I see.” He waited a beat too long for her to be comfortable. “Well, if you’re looking for ... a place to find a higher power to hold you accountable, we have a youth group that meets every Sunday and Wednesday.”

“That might help,” she said agreeably. He wasn’t convinced, but he still nodded.

“Perhaps agreeing to leave the alcohol with me might be a step in the right direction as well?”

Shit. Maybe bringing it up hadn’t been a good idea. She shook her head, even when he held a hand out at her. He was persistent, though, and didn’t move until she handed it over. She watched where he tucked it away, and then looked down, pressing her lips together. 

“Is there anything else you want to talk to me about?” He offered. When she shook her head, he stood. 

“I think I'm going to stay here. Think. It's peaceful here. Quiet. I'm not used to... quiet.” She jerked her head up to meet his gaze. Again, she found herself unable to read his expression. 

“I'll be in my office,” he told her. Pity. It couldn't be pity, could it? He gestured back, the way he came. Towards his office, she assumed. His mouth tipped up on one side. “The sermons don't write themselves, you know.”

She laughed a beat too late, and felt heat rise in her cheeks. She wasn't sure if she liked this preacher. Something about him left her a little unnerved. She watched him go, ducking her head in faux piety when he glanced back at her. 

Not a minute later, the man was back. She lifted her head warily, but he merely held out a pink book. She had to choke back a laugh when she realized it was a bible. Not just any bible. A youth bible. She dragged her gaze up to his, and took it. “Thank you.” What else could she say? He nodded once, and turned to leave. “Wait.” She grabbed his sleeve. “I meant that. Thank you. I didn’t expect you to...”

“Care?”

“Something like that.” She smiled wryly, and let her hand drop slowly. He didn’t seem to know what to say, because he gave a small dip of his head and turned to go. She let him this time without complaint. Once he was out of sight she lifted the flask she’d stolen back, before shoving it in her boot. 

She only moved again when she was sure he was gone for good this time. Any moment now, Caelan would be retrieving her, and she still had to brace for that. He grated on her nerves, which was no doubt why the angels had made him her handler. The air behind the pulpit split in half as she approached it, and a familiar shape shimmered into existence.

“Caelan,” she greeted sourly. 

The angel, his mouth pressed into a line so thin she was surprised it hadn’t vanished, merely ordered, “Come.”

“Yessir,” she said sweetly, putting her hand in his. 

His sharp gaze had no give in it. He glanced around, as if demons could crawl through the walls, before he tugged her through the split that waited for them.

[jamisonwritestf2trash]

part 5!!! only a few more left :3 next one has Spy's past... lots of good and bad happen ;)

---------?

Sniper paces in his camper all night. He can't sleep. Sighing, he sits down on his bed and stares at the pictures hanging on the wall. A few are of targets he's long since killed, and some are of dates he went on with Scout. Miss Pauling had taken them for the pair.

Sniper sighs and stands again, grabbing his rifle and heading outside to hunt. That should clear his mind.

Spy can't rest. He hadn't been able to for the last week. At least Scout's alive.

But would he be willing to listen to Spy? Or would he just run away again, and never speak to any of them again?

He sits outside on the roof. Behind him, the door opens and he turns to see Sniper.

"Bushman." He greets the Australian.

"Frenchie." Sniper nods, and walks to the end of the roof, slinging his rifle off his back and aims into the woods.

"Sniper." Spy says. Sniper hesitates before looking at Spy.

"What is it?" He asks, frowning.

"I know about you and Scout." Spy replies simply. Sniper's blood runs cold. "I'm not mad. I don't even care that much. Just... treat him well."

"I plan to." Sniper looks back at his rifle. "He's my first partner."

"Hold old are you?" Spy asks with a smirk, standing next to Sniper.

"27."

"Hm. I'd have expected you to have had at least one partner before." Spy takes a drag.

"Nah... people don't really like me and I don't bloody like people." Sniper fires, and a bird falls out of a tree.

"You must be lonely sometimes."

"Nah. Can't be lonely if yer used to being alone." Sniper reloads.

"You have a point." Spy takes a drag, and silence falls between the two. The door opens again, and they look over their shoulder to see Engi in the doorway.

"Uh. Spy. There's a call for ya." Engi says.

"At this hour?" Spy frowns.

"It's Scout's half brother, Jonah Bidwell. He-- It's urgent." Engi shifts, tugging his glove slightly. "It's about Heather."

Spy looks at Sniper, before following Engi. Curious, and a bit concerned, Sniper follows as well. Engi hands Spy the phone, and Sniper listens in.

"Bidwell? What is it?" Spy frowns. There's a moment of silence on the other end.

"Ma-- Heather's dead. She had a stroke and cops found her dead at home a few hours ago." Jonah explains. Sniper can tell by his voice that he'd been crying.

Spy doesn't say a word.

"Mate?" Sniper tilts his head, frowning.

"Um..." Jonah hesitates. "How's Scout?"

"Alive." Spy answers coldly, before giving the phone back to Engi and walking away. Sniper and Engi watch him leave. Engi sighs sadly before walking away, talking on the phone.

Sniper's alone in the middle of the hall again. Sighing, he starts walking back towards his camper. And starts thinking about how Scout will react to his mother's death.

When Sniper's mum died, Sniper never really acknowledged it. He didn't want to face reality. So, he just kept going. Doing the same routine until he tried to call his mother again. When she hadn't answered, reality set in, and he cried for hours inside his van, late at night, where nobody could see him.

Until Scout came along and listened to his pains and his regrets and all his grief and helped him through it.

He'd do the same for Scout.

He has to.

:)

Come get your angst while I work on some fluff guys!

Great work yet again anon, love the work!

[prince-rowan-of-the-forest]

Perfectly Okay

----

Roman knows it's bad when his only escape is a cat cafe a town away and a barista he barely feels like he knows, but when his soulmate kicks him out of their shared apartment, Roman finds he has no one else to turn to but that same barista.

But maybe everything will be ok, right?

----

| Ao3 |

Warnings: Abusive relationship, emotional maniupulation, panic attacks (please lmk if I've missed any

Pairings: platonic prinxiety, roman/orange

Word count: 5522

Notes:

Hi! I will warn this one, while not as heavy as other things I've read, is definitely heavier than my own usual writing, so proceed with caution if you prefer my normal level of angst!

----

----

Roman knew his soulmate. 

He’d known his soulmate since he was seventeen. They’d met in what felt like a fairytale, at a Ren Faire, he had been dressed like a faerie prince and his soulmate had been dressed in Tolkien-esque elven armour. Roman had thought it had been perfect, a dream come true. The mark on his hand had bloomed bright orange when the stranger had taken his hand and kissed his knuckles all whilst smiling up at him. It had been perfect.

‘Had’ was the key word. It had been perfect for almost a year, but after that…

Roman didn’t realise at first, still too caught up in joy at meeting his soulmate, still too overjoyed at their shared love for LARPing and fantasy cosplay to realise that things were slipping. He didn’t notice when calm talks turned into arguing which turned into screaming matches, he couldn’t pinpoint when he started being worried about telling him that he was going out with friends or meeting up with his brother. He could remember clearly when he had set fire to one of Roman’s oldest costumes during a spat about dressing up as a feminine character of all things, he cried for weeks over the torn and charred fabric. He remembered the day he’d come home from work to find his soulmate had thrown out more than half of his YA fantasy books, claiming that he shouldn’t be reading ‘that bullshit’ anymore. Roman has spent hours afterwards looking like a lunatic digging through their apartment’s dumpster trying to find them all. He’d moved all of his costumes and books into his brother’s storage unit after that, worried that they weren’t safe in his apartment. 

He’d considered calling the police a few times, all of them recently, all of them after a fight that had left Roman in tears. Each time he’d decided he couldn’t possibly handle any more of this, because by now - four years after he’d met his soulmate - he knew it was bad. He knew he was unhappy and he knew his soulmate didn’t love him like a soulmate should. He wanted out of all of this. But in the end he never called, because he knew the police wouldn’t help him, he was his soulmate, after all, and this kind of thing never happened between soulmates. Soulmates were wonderful and amazing, nothing ever went wrong between soulmates in the public's eye.

Instead Roman lied, pretended to have shifts at work when he didn’t, and went to the only place he felt safe these days.

There was a small coffee shop, tucked away and hidden behind all the corporate and placelessness, he’d found it nearly five years ago whilst he was still in highschool. It was a cute, quiet little place that served cheap coffee and also housed fifteen cats, which was amazing when Roman really needed a way to relax. 

He’d met one of the baristas working there the first time he’d come to escape, four or five months ago now. And Roman thought he might owe them his life by now.

“Hey Princey,” Virgil said, sliding into the bench across from him and placing a latte glass in front of him - the top filled with cream just like Roman always ordered, “What’re you working on today?”

“Oh!” Roman jumped, startled at their sudden appearance, “Virgil, I can’t-”

“It’s on me,” Virgil interrupted, shaking his head, “I noticed you finished your last one a while ago and my shift is almost over, so…”

“Oh really? Why thank you!” Roman said, flashing Virgil a blinding smile that didn’t feel completely fake, at least, “What time is it?”

“Almost three.” Virgil said, Roman sighed in relief, he’d told him he’d be at work until seven, he still had time, “Why, you gotta head out?”

“No,” Roman shook his head, “I just… lose track sometimes.”

“Mood,” Virgil said, leaning on the table, “So what’s in that notebook of yours?”

Roman felt his face heat up as he looked down at the notebook he had been doodling in, it was silly, he had been drawing dresses and hats and weaponry he’d love to make. He couldn’t, not anymore and especially not in his own home, he was terrified they’d be destroyed if his soulmate found them at all, nowadays. But… he could still dream. Could he show Virgil? Would they like the drawings and designs? Roman shook his head with a sigh.

“Just some doodles, nothing important,” Roman said, closing the notebook. Virgil frowned as they intercepted one of the cats attempting to jump up onto their table and placed her into their lap instead. 

“But you’ve been working on it the whole time you’ve been here?” Virgil said, tilting their head and raising an eyebrow. 

“I uh- it’s really nothing important, just some designs, I guess,” Roman said, he could feel his face getting more red, “I used to uh- I used to make fantasy costumes?”

“Oh really?” Virgil asked, “That’s neat, I’ve been to a few cons, but I’ve never been able to sew for the life of me, can I see?”

“You won’t laugh at me?” Roman asked, narrowing his eyes a little at them.

“'Course not, why would I?” Virgil said.

Roman shrugged, a little helpless, as he offered the notebook over to Virgil, “Most people I know would.”

“Oh,” Virgil said, before flipping the notebook to a random page and taking a second to look through the drawings before smiling up at Roman, “Dude these are epic! Could you really make this? And wear it?”

Roman ducked his head, cheeks flaming in embarrassment when Virgil turned the page around to show one of his drawings of ceremonial high elf armour. It was very detailed and would probably take him months to make - if he still even had the skills - and it was pretty feminine too, so he definitely couldn’t wear it. 

“Uh - yeah probably, it would take a while though,” Roman said with a small smile as Virgil turned the book back around to keep looking, leaving Roman antsy in his chair. 

“These dresses look nice,” Virgil said with a small smile as he ran a finger over the page, “They look… Mexican?”

“Yeah,” Roman said, “I’m hispanic, so… I sorta based them off that…”

“Neat,” Virgil said with a smile, “They’re pretty.”

“Yeah,” Roman nodded, they were, he really liked them. He wished he could show them off without fear. 

“Dude are you ok?” Virgil asked, putting down the book with a startled expression on his face and Roman realised only then that he was crying, of all things, over some drawings of dresses, “If you really didn’t want me to see these I wouldn’t have-”

“No- no it’s not- not that!” Roman interrupted, trying to wipe the tears away, “I’m sorry I didn’t- mean-”

“Hey, hey it’s ok, you don’t gotta apologise,” Virgil said, putting the notebook gently down on the table, “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t even know it’s just- I haven’t been able to show anyone these in- in forever and- you’re being so nice.”

Virgil stared at him for a moment before picking up the cat in their lap and placing it in Romans. She barely made a fuss before curling back up in her new seat, “Here, have a cat.”

“Thanks,” Roman choked out a laugh, as he ran his fingers through her soft fur. 

“But really, I’m doing like- the bare minimum here - you really don’t have anyone you show this stuff to?” Virgil asked, before gesturing to Roman’s bright orange hand, “Not even your soulmate?”

Roman tried to hide the way he flinched, by the way Virgil’s expression changed he assumed he didn’t do that well, before he could say anything about it, though, ploughed forward to answer his first question.

“I used to share this stuff with my brother, but I haven’t seen him in months,” Roman said sadly, “The rest of my family don’t like my hobbies, and my soulmate… well.”

“That bad, huh?” Virgil asked.

“He used to be really into all this same stuff, when we met,” Roman explained sadly, “We actually met at a ren faire, but, I dunno, I guess things change, he tried to throw out a bunch of my stuff a few months ago so uh, I asked my brother to take it and uh, yeah…”

“How long have you known him?” Virgil asked quietly.

“Four years,” Roman said glumly, “I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Okay,” Virgil said, sympathetic, “Um… okay, different topic: what kind of music do you like?”

From there it continued for almost two hours, back and forth, trading questions and answers. Roman had met Virgil a good few times before now, but all of them he had been working and even though the cafe was usually quiet there were still enough customers to make a long and invested conversation between the two difficult. Roman left the cafe that day feeling lighter than he had in weeks. 

—-

He kept going back to the cafe, the same as before, though now he tried to time it for when Virgil was just getting off of shifts (or at least when the cafe was quietest). Talking to Virgil was nice, even with their dyed hair, emo makeup and spooky piercings that made him a little nervous at first, he felt safe when he was in the cafe. Virgil liked looking at his drawings, they listened to Roman ramble about the most recent book he’d wanted to read (he borrowed them from the library sometimes and read them at the cafe before bringing them back the same day, he couldn’t trust his soulmate not to damage them like he had Roman’s own books). 

Virgil encouraged his ideas for stories he probably wouldn’t ever write, they got a cat to come and comfort him when he was upset over something trivial like Virgil asking how his day had been. Roman knew he was taking risks by coming so often, but the cafe was almost addictive, having somewhere safe and someone who was really interested in hearing about his passions felt a little like a drug in itself. 

He knew it couldn’t last, though. 

—-

“Where have you been?” His soulmate asked one night, almost a month later, when Roman came home a little later than he intended. He had been at the coffee shop again talking to Virgil after his shift and he’d lost track of time. He’d only stayed fifteen minutes longer than he had intended, but that made all the difference when it came to the train times. 

“At work, I told you,” Roman answered, lies rolling off his tongue as easy as truths used to, “I got held up by a coworker, I’m sorry.”

“Really?” he said, raising his eyebrow, “Can you explain why your paycheck doesn’t match up with the amount of hours you’ve apparently been doing too?”

Roman panicked internally, trying very hard to mimic a confused expression, “No idea, they must’ve messed it up somehow, I’ll uh- I’ll bring it up with my manager tomorrow.”

“And the train tickets you’ve been buying every other day?” he said, folding his arms, Roman tried not to flinch, “Have you been seeing someone else?”

“Of course not!” Roman cried, “I’ve just been going to work!”

“In another city?" The said harshly, "I'm not that fucking stupid, Roman, I know where you work." 

"They moved me to a different venue, ok?" Roman said, trying to take a deep breath to keep from either yelling or crying, "There's nothing going on - I swear."

"Then what’s in here?” He asked, not wasting a second before snatching Roman’s bag from his shoulder and rifling through it. He paled, most of the things in there were ordinary or work related - his uniform, some stationary, a water bottle - but his design notebook was also in there. He’d stuffed it hap-hazardly into the bag when he’d left in a hurry when usually he’d take better care to hide it in case of this very scenario. 

“The fucks’ this?” He asked, pulling out that very notebook. Roman tried to hold back tears as he flicked through the pages, expression growing more angry by the second, “Roman! I thought I told you to stop with this shit!”

Roman flinched when he grabbed a handful of the pages and tore them, “This is childish bullshit, Ro, no-one wants it, I thought you’d have grown up by now! I have.”

“But-” Roman started, “I thought- you loved this stuff?”

“Yeah, when I was sixteen, Roman, we’re fucking adults now!” He yelled, throwing Roman’s ruined book onto the floor, “Adults don’t play stupid dress-up games, for fucks sake get ahold of yourself! Look at you, you’re pathetic.”

Roman winced, trying to blink back tears as he glanced at the scattered, torn pages of his notebook. Adults don't throw temper tantrums over their partner's interests, Roman thought bitterly. He didn't dare say it aloud, though.

“Nothing to say?” he said, Roman couldn’t help the way he flinched back at the approach, he shook his head, “Pathetic! You’re just- I can’t believe the fucking universe would lump me with such a pathetic, childish, piece of shit soulmate like you.”

“Well-” Roman said in a burst of confidence that surprised even himself, “I can’t believe I got stuck with such a jerkish asshole who can’t even respect other people’s hobbies!”

He was silent for a long moment and in that moment Roman grew even more worried that he might actually attack him, instead he only pointed to the door, face scarily calm, and said, “Out.”

“What?” Roman yelped.

“Get out of my house,” He yelled, “Now.”

“Can I get-”

“Get. the fuck. out,” He told him through gritted teeth, “Don’t make me tell you again, Roman Prince.”

And in a pathetic show of defiance, Roman stopped to grab the torn up notebook and pages, shoving them into his bag before grabbing that too and storming out the door. He slammed it behind him and promptly burst into tears so ferocious he had to lean against the corridor wall to stop himself from sinking straight to the ground. 

—-

It was raining outside when he finally got himself out of the apartment building and onto the street. Distantly he regretted not grabbing his coat from the back of the door,  but at least he still had a jacket on from earlier. It was late, well past dark by now, he’d left the cafe just after seven and had gotten the train at seven thirty, making it just gone eight now. He wished it was summer right now, but as the weather clearly showed it was rapidly descending from autumn into winter. Roman shook his head to get his already rain soaked hair out of his eyes before crossing the busy road to the other side and hurrying along the pavement. He wished he had an umbrella.

Ducking into the first store he came across - a random little 24/7 general goods store - Roman darted around the aisles to the back before pulling his phone from his jacket pocket and opened it up. He’d call Remus, surely he’d let Roman crash on his couch until he worked out something more permanent. This would be fine. 

Remus didn’t pick up, the call going to voicemail three times over before Roman gave up and left a message saying that he needed to talk and it was urgent. Before running both hands through his hair, just slightly more panicked now. Roman knew without even checking that he didn’t have nearly enough money on him for a hotel. His soulmate had always controlled their bank accounts, so Roman didn’t have access to that now either as much as he would have loved to spend all of his money in petty revenge. Most of it was Roman’s money anyway. 

He tried to take deep breaths as he leant against the freezers at the back of the store. He didn’t have anywhere to live right now, which was fine, he’d figure it out. He still had a job at a restaurant nearby, it wasn’t the best paying but it was better than minimum wage and besides, they always complained about not having enough staff, Roman could definitely pick up more hours. He had time to get himself a new bank account and change his details before his next payday, presuming he found somewhere to live. This would be ok. He took a deep breath, looking at his phone contacts, so long as he could find somewhere to live temporarily. 

The biggest flaw in this plan, though, was the fact that the only contacts he had were his soulmate, Remus and his parents. Alongside one or two friends he hadn’t talked to in at least a year. Remus already hadn’t picked up and his parents would ask pressing questions he really didn’t want to answer, especially with such a low chance they’d even take him back in and his friends…

It wouldn’t be fair on them for Roman to ghost them for two years and then call out of nowhere asking for a place to stay. He couldn’t do that, not to them or himself. 

Maybe he could ask strangers if they would take him, or if they knew anyone. But that was a surefire way to get himself killed, so… 

Roman rummaged through his bag, well, if he couldn’t call anyone for help he could at least take inventory of what he had with him. His work uniform, which was at least better than nothing in terms of a change of clothes. His water bottle, a pencil case, he had a pack of painkillers in there, not helpful right now but could come in useful if he got a headache from the stress. A packet of tissues… one of those plastic forks that came with lunch pasta pots, some origami thing he must’ve done at some point when he was bored made from a napkin, a broken pen, a couple of hairbands… and a few quarters he collected up.

And most importantly his design notebook and all the crumpled ripped out pages. Roman sighed, taking one out and attempting to smooth it over against the glass of the freezer. This really wasn’t the place to be doing this, but… oh well. He’d have to sort through which ones were salvageable later anyway. 

Something caught his eye on the one he had tried to smooth out, though. It was one he had been working on only a few hours ago. Virgil had been helping him, they had asked if Roman could design them as a fantasy character, a prompt Roman had taken to immediately. Virgil had occasionally pulled the notebook towards them and added little notes around the drawing. In the corner of the page a number was scrawled in messy handwriting. 

He almost burst into tears of joy at the sight, Virgil had written his name above it and drawn a little smiley face with the number written underneath. Roman took a deep breath, fanning his face to get rid of the tears that had welled up in his eyes with one hand as he pulled up his contacts and shakily typed in the numbers written on the page. 

Taking a deep breath Roman pressed the call button and held the phone up to his ear, crossing his fingers as it rang. It got to the fifth ring and Roman was starting to lose hope when Virgil finally picked up. 

“Hello?” Virgil said on the other end of the phone, sounding tired, Roman let out a sigh of relief. 

“Oh thank god, Virgil! It’s uh- it’s Roman? From the coffee shop?” Roman said, trying not to cry again in the back of a stupid grocery store.

“Roman?” Virgil said, “You’re uh, calling me?”

“Yeah is that uh- okay? I’m sorry I didn’t-”

“It’s okay yeah, just, unexpected, you’re all good,” Virgil said, taking a deep breath, “Uh, whats up?”

“Okay so I know this is the first time calling you and I know we’re like- barely friends but um, I have a really really massive favour I need to ask you,” Roman said before shoving his fist in his mouth in an attempt to stop himself from audibly sobbing.

“I’d say we’re more than barely friends, Princey,” Virgil said, “What do you need?”

“Would it be possible for me to maybe crash on your couch for a night or two?” Roman said quickly, before Virgil could say anything he continued in a ramble, "It's just that my soulmate’s kicked me out and my brother's not picking up and my parents will question me to hell and back and I don't really have any other friends and- and I don't have enough money on me for a hotel and I don't know what to do-" 

"Woah woah," Virgil said through the phone, "Okay, first of all, deep breaths Princey, okay?"

Roman nodded even though Virgil couldn't see him and tried to take a deep breath, barely able to get through it with the tears. He was really glad no-one else was in the shop right now.

"Okay and uh, once you're ready I'm gonna need you to tell me what's going on," Virgil said, "Because I only caught like every third word of that ramble." 

"R-right," Roman said, trying to even out his breathing as he brushed the tears away from his eyes, "Um, so my soulmate kicked me out of our house because - because he found my drawing book, and, uhm, found out I wasn't working when I said I was-" 

Roman swallowed thickly, looking up at the ceiling in hopes to get rid of the tears, "And- and I have nowhere else to go, my brother isn't answering my calls and my parents are barely an alternative to my soulmate, so I was- was really hoping you'd be able to help me." 

Virgil was silent for a long second before he let out a sigh loud enough to be heard over the phone, "Okay, where are you right now?" 

"Um," Roman said, "Crying at the back of a general store?" 

Despite everything, Virgil snorted, "Okay, good to know, but I meant like, the address? I'm gonna come get you." 

Roman almost dropped the phone in relief. Instead he just started crying again and let out a stream of barely coherent thank yous and sorries until Virgil interrupted him again.

"Sorry, um, I'll- I’ll text it to you," Roman said, rocking back and forth a little as he opened the messaging screen and shakily typed in the street he was on and the town and sent it, "I don't- don't know what this shop's called but it's just- a- a little 24/7 general store." 

"Okay, I got it," Virgil said, "You want me to stay on the phone?" 

"Is that okay?” Roman asked, weakly.

“‘Course it is,” Virgil told him, before Roman heard some bustling on the other end of the phone, he tried to keep taking deep breaths until Virgil came back to the phone, “Okay, Roman, is it good with you if my roommate drives? I’ll be able to keep talking to you better.”

“Are- um-” Roman said, trying to figure out what to say, his hands were shaking, “Are they good?”

“Yeah, Patton’s the softest little puffball I know,” Virgil answered, “I’ll still be there the whole time and you don’t even have to talk to him if you don’t want to.”

Roman took a deep breath, before carefully placing his things back into his bag, “Yeah - uh - okay, that’s okay.”

“Okay great, just hang tight for me a second, Princey,” Virgil said, a little quietly as though he was holding the phone away from his ear. Roman heard the sound of a door closing from the other end of the line. 

After about five minutes of not talking from Virgil, Roman had managed to get his stuff back up together. He’d tried to wipe away the worst of his tears with the origami napkin and taken a few more deep breaths as he waited by the freezer. Virgil was coming to get him, he would be ok. 

“You still there, Roman?” Virgil said after a little while, he could hear the sounds of a car engine in the background of the call now.

“Yeah I’m still here,” Roman answered.

“Right, we’re gonna be about half an hour, ‘kay?” Virgil said, “Um, whilst you wait, do you have any money at all?”

Roman looked at the cents and quarters he had collected from the bottom of his bag, he had five dollars tucked into the back of his phone too, “Uh- yeah, about six or seven dollars, I think?”

“Jeez man,” Roman heard Virgil murmur a little distantly, and then much closer, “Okay, I want you to have a look around the store and find something sweet you like - I guess you haven’t eaten?”

“No,” Roman mumbled, great, a reminder that he was hungry, too, “I haven’t.”

“Okay,” Virgil said, “We haven’t eaten yet either so we can grab something on the way home, for now uh, can you do what I said? Find a pack of sweets or chocolate or something,”

“What for?” Roman asked, frowning even as he made his way to the confectionary aisle and looked through the admittedly small selection there. He was tired and honestly? Didn’t see the point in spending his last five dollars on a packet of skittles. 

“Panicking sucks for your blood sugar,” Virgil said, “You’ve been crying and panicking for however long now, so you’re probably gonna get real tired pretty soon because of the adrenaline wearing off, so you want a boost to keep you going.”

“Right,” Roman said, taking a deep breath in and blowing it slowly out of his mouth. Virgil was definitely right, he was tired now, exhausted even, his eyes ached from crying and he was actually starting to get a headache. Maybe those painkillers would come in handy after all. He ended up picking a packet of mini red velvet brownie bites. They were a little more expensive than some of the other stuff that was there, but Roman was pretty sure he deserved it at this point. 

He also took a detour and found the cheapest bottle of water in the store and grabbed that too. The water in his own water bottle, Roman was pretty sure, was at least a day old. 

“Okay,” Roman said into the phone when he was done, “I’ve got brownies and water, I’m gonna go buy them now.”

Once Virgil had hummed an affirmative, Roman headed to the counter and placed down his items. Virgil would be here soon, he had chocolate now, everything would be ok.

—-

The rain was even heavier now as Roman stepped out of the store, attempting to stay under the awning outside to avoid the worst of it. Virgil tried to keep up a steady stream of chatter as he waited and Roman couldn’t help appreciate it even more coming from Virgil - who he knew didn’t like to talk so much. Roman would gladly admit how much it helped, just the simple little reassurance that he was still there as he slowly made his way through the pot of brownies. Virgil was right, they really were helping too.

“Hey Ro,” Virgil said through the phone, “We’re almost here now, like, we’re literally turning onto the street right now, I’m gonna - oh I see you - I’m gonna hang up and yell at you out the window, ‘kay?”

Roman nodded, before realising Virgil probably couldn’t see that and agreed verbally just before the call clicked off. Roman took a deep breath in the few seconds of silence only broken by the pouring rain until he heard a shout of his name from nearby - just a little further down the road, just as Virigl had promised. 

He’d rushed over to the car that had pulled into the layby, Virgil’s face met him in the window and Roman damn near burst into tears again. 

“Get in then, doofus,” Virgil said playfully, reaching over and opening the door. Roman climbed into the back seat and closed the door behind him, the hot air from the car’s heating making him shiver as he realised how soggy he was from the rain. Virgil seemed to notice too.

“Jeez Princey, you’re soaked….” Virgil said, shrugging off their own thick black hoodie jacket, “Here, take off your jacket and put this on.”

The jacket dwarfed him, the sleeves covering his hands and the rest of it wrapping around him like a blanket. He pulled the hood up and sank into it, thankful for the warmth. It was such a lovely material too, so soft under his cold fingers. Virgil flung his waterlogged jacket into the front passenger seat. 

“Hey kiddo,” The person in the driver’s seat turned to look at him, he had a smile on his face and bouncy golden curls for hair, this must be Patton, Roman thought, he looked friendly, “I’m Patton, nice to meet ya.”

“Hello,” Roman said, twisting the hoodie between his fingers, he didn’t really feel like talking to someone he didn’t know right now, but also, Patton felt safe and bubbly and warm and he really didn't want to upset the guy who was driving them and potentially letting Roman stay in his house, “Um, I’m Roman.”

“Awesome! I’ll leave you two alone to talk in a second, but first, how d’you feel about pizza for dinner?” Patton asked, resting a hand on the steering wheel.

“Pizza sounds nice,” Roman said, before cringing, “But uh- I can’t- I can’t pay…”

“It’s on me,” Patton said with a blinding smile, “for both of you, I’ll pull into a Domino’s on the way back.”

“Thanks, Pat,” Virgil said, before turning back to Roman and talking in a quieter voice, “How’re you feeling?”

“Awful,” Roman admitted with a pathetic little laugh, “But it’s… okay, um, I’m really grateful to you, for this.”

“You’re welcome,” Virgil huffed, “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“I’m really glad you left your number,” Roman mumbled, trying to wipe away the tears that were forming again before they fell. 

“I’m really glad I worked up the courage to leave it,” Virgil countered with a small smile. 

Roman was silent for a second, before taking a deep breath, “I’m really sorry I’m dumping my problems on you, I know we- it’s not like we’re close friends or anything.”

“Roman-” Virgil said, turning in their seat to face him properly, a frown on his face, “I’m glad you called me, okay?”

“You- really?” Roman asked, voice smaller than he meant it to be.

“Yeah Ro,” Virgil said, shaking their head, “You- y’know what, would you like a hug?”

Roman couldn’t help but stare, a hug? Yeah, he’d really like a hug. He said as much with a wobbly voice and teary eyes and Virgil smiled, pulling him into a tight hug. Roman buried his face in their shoulder and tried to stop crying for what felt like the millionth time tonight.

“I’m s-sorry,” Roman stammered, “I’m getting your shirt soggy,”

“It’s fine,” Virgil said, squeezing him a little tighter, “I don’t mind, you’re safe here.”

—-

“Do you guys have any uh… bandages? Or something like that?” Roman asked as Virgil unlocked their door. Patton was behind him carrying the two pizza boxes they’d gotten on the way. Virgil kicked the door open before turning to him, worried frown on their face.

“Why? Are you injured?” Virgil asked, “And why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“No- no I’m not injured,” Roman quickly reassured, lifting his hand and pulling back the sleeve of Virgil’s hoodie to reveal the bright orange mark on his hand. Usually he could deal with the sight of it, mostly ignoring the way it made his chest hurt, but right now it just made him want to throw up, “I want to cover it.”

“Of course,” Virgil said, nodding, “Gotcha, there should be some in the bathroom- the cupboard to the right of the one under the sink.”

“Bathroom is the first door to the left when you go up the stairs,” Patton directed with a smile as he walked past them into the open plan kitchen diner that Roman could see down the hall. 

“Okay, thank you,” Roman said, bowing his head, “I’ll be right back.”

Virgil shot him a thumbs up and followed Patton down the hall whilst Roman made his way up the stairs. He splashed water in his face in hopes that it would make the puffy redness of his eyes a little less visible before wrapping his hand in bandages to hide the mark. He took a few deep breaths as he looked at himself in the mirror and gave himself a silent pep-talk. Virgil had rescued him, he was - for now at least - away from his soulmate, he had somewhere to sleep and he had pizza to go downstairs to. Somehow, he thought that maybe this would actually be okay.

----

Tags: @full-of-roman-angst-trash@reptilianrapscallion420@your-local-random-dino@cutebisexualmess@glacierruler @roseianxiety (if anyone wants to be added generally or for this specific fic, let me know!)

[theycallme-thejackal]

One MidgeLenny x TSwift Fic Per Day

128. All Too Well

She remembers everything.

She wishes she didn’t. She wishes she could forget him, but that period of her life is ingrained in her mind, on her heart, and she finds herself having flashbacks more often than she cares to.

Tonight it’s as she stands in the kitchen, wiping her hands after cleaning up dinner, and she can picture him. She can feel the way his hands felt as he tugged her close and guided her steps, dancing in the kitchen to no music. She remembers how happy she was, how safe she felt in his arms, and it brings tears to her eyes.

In the end, it was too real for him, and he got scared, running off to California, putting an entire country between them, and leaving her feeling like a crumpled up piece of paper containing a bad joke you’d rather not remember you wrote in the first place.

She sees him in the living room, sitting in a chair, talking to Papa, and when he spots her in the doorway, he smiles and gives her a wink before going back to his chat. She sees him in the bathroom, bopping her on the nose with one of her curlers, nuzzling against her cheek and getting her face cream all over his nose.

In her bedroom, she opens her drawer, reaching toward the back and tugging out a familiar black silk tie. The smell of him has long since faded, but she keeps it here, in her drawer. It’s a little irrational maybe, but every time she considers throwing it out, she worries. She worries that throwing it out means throwing him away. Throwing everything that they had away.

And she’s not ready. It’s been six months, and she still can’t bear to move on.

They were only together - really together - for a short time, but she knows that she’s lost the greatest love she’s ever known. What he made her feel is unmatched by anyone she’s been with before or since then.

She wakes in the morning of her thirtieth birthday with his tie still in her hand, and she blinks awake slowly, the sun peeking through her window, and her heart clenches.

Thirty. And alone.

She’s always loved her birthday, but today is something of a blur, and once the kids are asleep, she feels a profound sadness wash over her.

And then a knock at the door.

She’s got a glass of bourbon in her hand (she tends to opt for bourbon on the nights when she particularly misses Lenny), and she downs it, steeling herself for what is undoubtedly going to be Joel and a fight on the other side of the door.

She takes a deep breath, opens the door, and...

It’s not Joel.

Instead, there stands Lenny Bruce, in his trademark suit, holding a small bakery box. His head is slightly dipped, and he looks at her a little shyly. “Happy birthday,” he says quietly.

“What are you doing here?” She asks when she finds her words.

He half-smiles. “There’s this bakery in West Hollywood that makes the best cupcakes I’ve ever had, but they sadly don’t deliver.”

She looks at him for a long moment before opening the door a little wider and inviting him inside. It’s probably a disastrous idea, letting him in when she’s already been maimed by their relationship before, but she can’t help herself. Wanting him, loving him, is as involuntary as blinking or cracking a joke.

He stands in her foyer for the first time in months, and as much as she just wants to fall into his arms right now, she feels more like a soldier bracing himself for battle, and he looks like he’s ready for a barrage.

It’s strange to see him feeling awkward when at one time this place was practically his home, but he shifts on his feet, looking up at her from under his lashes, and there is such a profound sensation of guilt radiating from him.

Good. He should feel guilty.

“When did you get back?” She asks as she closes the door.

He looks at his watch. “About an hour ago,” he answers. “I dropped my bag off at Jo-Jo’s and came straight here.”

She nods slowly. “How is he?”

“Away for the summer. I’ve got a spare key.” He lifts the box of cupcakes a little awkwardly. “Want a cupcake?” He asks. “Or I could just leave them and - ”

“No,” she breathes softly. “No, I...it’s my birthday. And even though I’m still so fucking angry with you, I...can’t think of anyone else I’d rather spend it with.”

He chuckles quietly. “That’s perhaps the most confusing thing I’ve ever heard, but I will take what I can get,” he says.

She leads him to the kitchen, pulling out plates and napkins before pouring them each a glass of bourbon. He raises a brow at her. She shrugs, setting his glass down in front of him. “Don’t make it a thing.”

He nods slowly and lifts his glass in toast. “To you,” he says.

She smiles softly. “I’ll drink to that.” They clink their glasses and sip, and then he opens the box.

The cupcakes inside are various colors and flavors, and she picks the one with a caramel frosting, taking a bite and biting back a moan. “Holy shit.”

He chews his bite of his chocolate cupcake. “I told you.”

“That’s almost as good as sex,” she comments before she can think about it, and he laughs.

“Almost,” he repeats with a smirk.

“Don’t flirt with me. I’m still mad at you.”

“Hey, you’re the one bringing up sex,” he bats back, cocking a brow at her.

She sighs and wipes her fingers on her napkin. “So...you’re here,” she comments, taking a sip of her bourbon.

He nods. “I am no mirage.”

She tilts her head at him, considering him, and she notices he looks...really good. His cheeks aren’t so sunken. His eyes a little brighter - still dark and smoldering, but there’s more life behind them. “You look good,” she says.

“Don’t flirt with me. You’re still mad at me.”

“Lenny,” she drawls with an eye roll, and he lifts his hands in surrender. “I meant you look healthy.”

He nods. “I...” He takes a deep breath, and it’s stunning to her to see the great Lenny Bruce struggling for words. “I didn’t want to leave you,” he says. “I need you to know that it was the hardest thing I have ever done.”

Midge swallows thickly. “Then why did you do it?” She whispers.

“Because I couldn’t be the man you deserve,” he answers honestly. “Not when I was...”

“High?” She finishes after a long moment.

He nods. “I needed to get clean. And I needed to do it for myself. If I was there for you...” She tilts her head, trying to understand where he’s going with this. “Then my sobriety always would have been contingent on us, and when you inevitably realized I wasn’t worth it - ”

“What makes you think that would ever happen?” She asks, furrowing her brow.

He scoffs a mirthless laugh. “You’re Miriam Weissman. Upper West Side goddess. One day you were going to tire of slumming it with an addict with mountains of debt.”

“Wow,” she breathes, shaking her head and trying to fight tears. “You really think I’m that shallow?”

“No. But I think you deserve better than someone who’s spending more money on drugs than food. Who can be there for you in a way I really couldn’t.”

She blinks at him and then sips her drink. “Lenny, do you have any idea how much I loved you?” She asks quietly. “How much it fucking hurt when you bailed on me? I - ” She feels herself getting louder and remembers her children down the hall. “I got left high and dry by my husband of five years, and that didn’t hurt nearly as much as watching you walk out on me.”

He nods, and she sees his eyes red-rimmed and watery. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I was so...lost, and I didn’t know how to deal with it. I’m...I’m very sorry, Midge.”

She blinks back tears and looks down at her plate, picking a bit of cupcake. “Why are you here?” She asks. “Why now?”

“Because even though I left, even though I did it for myself...I thought of you the whole time I was in rehab. Watching you on Gordon Ford...it was the highlight of my weeks.”

She swallows her bite of cupcake and looks at him, but she can’t keep the eye contact, so she averts her gaze again. “Lenny...”

“I’m not expecting anything,” he promises. “After what I did, I wouldn’t blame you if you never wanted to see me again. But I had to let you know how sorry I am for what I did. At the very least so you knew...it was never about not loving you. Because I did...I do.”

Her eyes shoot up to find his again, and she sees the wetness under his eyes where tears have started to fall. “I...I don’t know what to say,” she admits.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he assures her. “Whatever you want from me, I will respect that. I owe you that much.”

She stares at him for a long moment. “I think...you should go,” she whispers, her throat constricting with the threat of tears.

He nods. “Then I’ll go,” he says, standing and straightening his jacket. “Happy birthday, Midge. I hope you get everything you wished for,” he says quietly.

She doesn’t watch him leave, but the second she hears the front door close, she’s up like a shot, sprinting after him. She loses her slippers in the hall, but she doesn’t care. She rushes barefoot to the door, and when she swings it open, he’s not there.

She goes to the stairwell, flinging the door open, and he’s just made it to the landing when he sees her. She rushes down the stairs and launches herself into his arms, surprising him, but he holds her tightly as she buries her face in his neck.

“Don’t go,” she whispers. “Don’t ever go.” A sob passes her lips, and he holds her tighter.

He nods. “Okay,” he whispers, and she feels tears on the collar of her dress.

“I swear, Lenny, if you ever leave me like that again, I’m sending Frank and Nicky after you and no one will ever find the body.”

He chuckles through his sob. “Never again.”

[whatisreggieshortfor]

The Love Interest We Wanted.

Cherrygate ends your relationship for the second time. But your best mate is there to pick up your heart.

Tim x MC

Shout out to @justtuesdays for being amazing and sharing my passion to rant about this game and this sweetheart of a character that we wanted to love in every playthrough but couldn’t.

You weren’t sure how this came to happen.

Scratch that. You knew exactly how this came to happen. You’d already forgiven him once, after all.

After leaving Love Island with Mason, the two of you decided that it would be best to keep your own places for a while, get used to being together in the real world before trying to push your relationship that far.

A year after the show ended, you were planning to head over to his place one day, having signed on at the hospital for a double shift and your relief showed a couple hours early and offered to let you go home. When Mason wasn’t answering your texts, you admittedly grew a little worried. He’d given you a key as soon as you left the Villa, saying that just because you weren’t going to live together didn’t mean that you should have to wait for him to open a door, so you didn’t think to knock before you walked in.

If you had, it might’ve stung a little less.

Mason was on the couch, a topless Cherry in his lap as they made out passionately. The shock wore off quickly, they still hadn’t noticed you. You slipped your phone out and snapped a photo of the scene, before working the key off your ring and dropping it noisily on the counter.

The small clanging brought their attention to you, and Cherry immediately made a pitiful attempt to move and cover up, whisper yelling at him that he said you broke up, while Mason tried to say it wasn’t what it looked like, but you ignored him. You wordlessly walked through the apartment, gathering the few things you’d left there as he followed you like a puppy. By the time you made it to the door, he finally said something that made you want to slug him.

“Ya know, this wouldn’t’ve happened if ya weren’t so damn busy all the time! Makin’ me look like a mug in front of my mates.”

Your head snapped over to him, and you could hear Cherry gasp at him but you had a retort ready, “Busy? You mean because I work?? I save lives, Mason! All you do is sit around in your underwear for a camera and live off the days that your band used to be good!” He was gobsmacked, staring at you with wide eyes, but you weren’t done. “This isn’t the first time you’ve done this. But it’s the last you do it to me.” You pulled out your phone, pressing buttons before both of their phones dinged.

Love Island GC: Y/N sent an attachment.

You left before he could try to blame it on you again.

That was three months ago, and every day since your best friend had been there for you. Not physically, Tim was busy on a DJ tour, but he messaged you a million times a day. He had done a huge surprise birthday party for you last year, and Mason had had no idea when your birthday even was. Your mind whirled annoyingly with what Mason had been up to half a year ago when Jen and Tim split up, and you stayed with Tim for a whole week to make sure he was okay. He never really explained the break up to you, saying some vague things about how they both wanted different people than who they really were. It made sense to you, Jen tried to change what fundamentally made Tim himself, and the two of them stayed friends.

For the last week, Tim asked you every day if you’d checked your mail yet, and every time you said yes but that there was nothing exciting, he would change the subject. Today you finally learned why.

The envelope was a clash of bright colors that no one other than Tim would think was a good idea, and you felt a fondness squeeze your heart before you shoved it away. Tim was the one person you still felt so strongly for after your time on the show, you best friend. You weren’t going to let the idea that there could be more ruin what there was. You focused instead on the envelope as you leaned on your kitchen counter, carefully cutting it open to save the envelope that was so inherently Tim. What slid out had your brow furrowing, reading the words on it over and over again as you dialed his number and listened to the rings, “Yo! Did you-“

“Yes, Timye! I checked my mail! How could you not tell me??”

“Ayeee!” He cheered, and you couldn’t keep the grin off your face, “I wanted it to be a surprise! Am I gonna see you there?”

“Are you gonna see me? You think I’m missing your first headlining rap show?”

“Yes! That’s my girl! You’re coming to the after party with me, too! No getting out of it. I’m making-“

“Pineapple Shaddies?”

“Yeah! My signature drink!”

“From the bottom of my heart, I can’t wait, Tim.”

“I thought you said no heart jokes after what Levi said on day one?” You could hear the grin in his tone, the teasing. And you snorted at him.

“You are god awful. I’m hanging up now. Love you, Timye.”

“Love you, Y/N!”

The day of the show arrived unnervingly quick. You’d done double shifts at the hospital for weeks to ensure you could enjoy the night to the fullest, and properly nurse the Pineapple Shaddy induced hangover you were sure to get when you woke up at Tim’s flat the next day. Why it took you hours to decide on torn up jean shorts and a crop top, you had no idea. Tim had seen you in literally all forms of dress at this point- even naked thanks to his inability to knock on a closed bathroom door.

Arriving, you showed them your ticket and was immediately ushered into a VIP area where a few familiar faces were waiting, “There she is! I told you guys she’d be here!” Rohan ran over immediately, scooping you up and spinning around before Jake engulfed the both of you in his huge arms. As you separated, Rohan beamed, “I told these losers there was no way you’d miss your boy’s performance.”

“If I missed this, you could just assume I was dead. That’s the only excuse I would accept from myself.” You laughed, “I slept for a good nineteen hours after working my butt off to be free tonight.”

Jake let out a low whistle, saying all he needed to do was set the menu and let his second in command be in charge for the night. Rohan agreed, “Yeah, I just took the night off from studying, but unlike us, someone else came here to work.”

He pointed behind you where Talia was watching the three of you with a nostalgic smile. “It’s good to see the three of you together where Rohan isn’t trying to give handstand lessons.” You cackled as you ran over and gave her a tight hug, she lowered her voice as you pulled away, “How are you doing after…?”

You shook your head, bright smile on your face, “Let’s be honest, I don’t think any of us thought it was going to work long term. And Tim has been keeping me very busy and distracted.”

Talia smirked, “I bet he is.”

Odd, but you moved on as soon as a stage worker appeared to usher you into a roped off portion of the front row. Tim appeared on stage before any of you could say anything else, and you had to admit, strictly to yourself, that he looked damn good up there.

The show was everything you knew Tim could achieve. Not only was the venue packed, but the audience was going crazy. At what should’ve been the last song, Tim grinned at the four of you before turning to the audience, “I have a very special surprise for you all tonight! One that I hope my mates won’t kill me for. In the house tonight, we have Jake ‘Sweetcheeks’ Wilson!” He let the audience go crazy for a moment before settling them down, “And Rohan the Handwalker!”

“I don’t remember signing off on that nickname.” Rohan laughed beside you.

“Clearly you don’t get an option.” You grinned before looking back at Tim.

“Last, but absolutely in no universe least, we have the Heartthrob of the Villa! The one and only, Y/N! Let’s get the rap crew together for one last song guys!”

The attendant appeared again, taking the three of you onstage whether you wanted to go or not. You and Rohan erupted in laughter, and you had to lean heavily on Tim as Jake’s face exploded in a blush. You were handed a microphone, and the reality of what you were about to do landed on you, but you just beamed at your best friend as you raised it to speak, “This is for Timye everybody! The backbone of the Villa, the one that kept everybody laughing through the drama.”

The three of you nodded to him, and the four of you started rapping together, just like old times.

Tim hugged you as the song ended, planting a kiss on your cheek that you lit a fire in all of your nerves.

Shoving the feelings away wasn’t working. Tim was so unapologetically himself, and that was only one of the things you loved about him so much. But you figured the after party was the best place to be to help you. Your solution? Drink Pineapple Shaddies until you couldn’t remember you had these feelings.

That might’ve worked. If you hadn’t stumbled to sit down at the bar top next to Rohan and he asked why you were drinking so much.

“Ya ever have feelings for a mate that you think are feelings just because they’re your mate, but then you don’t want them to just be your mate cause you realize you fancy them but you don’t have a way to say it where they don’t think you’re crazy?”

You watched his blurry face blink- at least you think he was blinking- before he finally spoke, “You fancy someone?”

You groaned, dropping your head on the surface in front of you, “Yes. I do. And I hate it. He’s supposed to be my best mate. Why can’t these stupid feelings go away?”

“Your best mate…Tim?” You nodded instead of answering, your face still pressed to counter. You heard him snort, “Why don’t you just tell him?”

You blearily looked up, “Why would I tell him? He’s not into me like that. I’d rather preserve this friendship, thank you.”

“So you’d rather try to help him find a new bird rather than just offer yourself?”

Your eyes narrowed at Rohan, did he usually say bird? You couldn’t remember now. Shoving the thought away, you nodded. “At this point, it’s either he somehow makes the first move, or he has no idea that fancied him since he jokingly fanned himself and walked into Miles on the first day.”

You were having trouble keeping your eyes open, vaguely registering your conversation partner telling you it was time for bed.

When you woke up, you immediately buried your head under the pillow, before you realized you never went to sleep. Jerking upright, you braced yourself against the pounding headache and wave of nausea, looking around to see Tim’s guest bedroom. Not only that, but you were missing the clothes you’d had on that were replaced by a t-shirt you know you’ve seen before in his closet. You groaned, forcing yourself to your feet and out into the hallway. Music was playing softly, and you followed it down the hall, where you found Tim bustling around the kitchen with Jake on a video call, “Are you sure this is all you need to do? It doesn’t seem like enough.”

“Believe me, this is exactly what she needs when she wakes up. You called me because I’m a professional, you gonna trust me or not, mate?”

Tim waved his hand, “You’re right, you’re right. I’m still not sure who she thought I was last night.” Jake caught a glimpse of you behind Tim, trying to get his attention to get him to shut up. “I mean, I don’t want to hurt you, Jake. You’re like a brother, but her- I mean, she’s the girl that I’ve dreamed of. If you guys hadn’t met her, too, I might’ve thought I imagined someone that perfect.”

You were stuck, eyes blown wide and headache long forgotten, as Tim finally noticed Jake pointing and turned around. It was eerily silent as the two of you stared at each other before Jake cleared his throat, “Right, well, uh, best of luck to you both. I want an invite to the wedding.” And then he hung up before either of you could say a word.

You teetered on your feet for a moment, “I, uh, I was talking to you? I really, really thought it was Rohan.”

“It was me.” Tim was so quiet. So unlike his usual self, it bothered you. Nerves took over and you startled fiddling with the hem of your shirt- his shirt. He gestured at it, “You got sick on the way home. Talia was driving us, so she helped you change clothes when we got back. Don’t want ya thinking I was tryna-“

“I know, Tim.” You snorted, “You aren’t that type of guy.” It was still quiet, but it was more comfortable now that you laughed. “Do we- Should we-“ You sighed, “I don’t know how to talk about what I said.”

Tim laughed softly, just a little exhale of breath as he smiled and shook his head, “How about I just be honest then? Y/N, you were my best mate in the villa. You are my best mate now. But there’s no rule that says my best mate can’t be the love of my life, right? Isn’t that what people say? That their spouse is their best friend?”

You were blown away. Sure, Tim had flirted in the Villa. You both had. But doing it then, and saying this now…

You didn’t a spare another thought. With your hangover, you’re not sure you could’ve. You surged across the space between you, pressing your lips to his like you’d wanted to do all this time. And he pressed back just as fiercely.

It took a while for you to realize air was still important, and you pulled away with your head spinning. Without a word, Tim ushered you into a chair, setting what he deemed ‘Jake’s Monster Hangover Cure’ in front of you, and patiently waited while you worked through it. When you were finished, you took his hand, “If we do this, I need you to promise that we’re friends first. We talk to each other about everything right now. I don’t want to lose that.”

“Absolutely.” He squeezed your fingers.

“And…if you want us to casually see each other first, then we can, you can keep-“

“No!” He cut you off, “We live five hours from each other right now, there’s nothing casual about that. And I was content being your best mate, but if I have the chance to be with you? I don’t need anybody else. I don’t want anybody else. I’ll put all my eggs in your basket, babe.”

Your eyes welled up with tears without your consent, but the smile that took over your face was given full permission. “Okay then, Timye. We’re doing this.”

A year later, you sat in your living room watching the new contestants of Love Island as they were told there was going to be a special guest. Warmth filled you from head to toe, watching the Islanders lose their mind as your boyfriend entered the lounge. “Pause it!” A voice called out from the kitchen, and you quickly pressed the button. A minute later you watched as he came bustling around the corner, setting the snacks you wanted on the coffee table and letting you settle against him once he sat down.

“Good now?”

Tim pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “Great now.”

You pressed play, watching the Islanders do the Macarena, gasping at the on screen drama when Rafi announced he’d rather leave than break up a couple, but nothing prepared you for the snippets it showed from the Hideaway.

The couple front running for first place followed Tim to the ‘VIP Lounge’, and you watched as he was asked about Jen.

“We, uh, we broke up. But that’s okay, cause now I’m with the love of my life, and she’s been there the whole time.”

You melted into him as his arm wrapped around your shoulder. Murmuring that this was embarrassing and he had no idea they had put cameras there. You just smiled, wiggling to grab the present you’d had ready for him since the day he actually confessed, knowing now more than ever that you were sure about this.

Masterlist

[sidxlune]

Middle Ground Monday, 1st of August, 1:47 P.M

There’s a certain kind of warmth in the atmosphere on Christmas eve...

There’s a certain kind of warmth that you feel when the merry making begins to die down and the conversations shift from loud to almost a whisper, the mind goes half-asleep, topics become more serious...

There’s a certain kind of warmth that wraps your heart and turns your brain into a puddle, making you throw whatever principles you have right out the window.. and this particular warmth, it’s the one I felt when I was listening to your voice.

I don’t know what came over me. I was halfway through a bottle of wine and I reasoned it must’ve altered my system to a certain degree. It’s probably just the wine, I kept thinking. My cheeks were flushed and my voice was starting to sound hoarse.. yeah, must be the wine. Damn it. IT WAS YOU, for fuck’s sake. IT WAS US. It was the universe finally giving us our time and it was so overwhelming, I wanted to just shut my eyes and swim in it. "Can we at least try?" you asked in a really soft tone and it triggered a weakness in me. The danger thrilled me that I almost caved in.. but I pulled and held on to my senses because if I didn’t, we’d be in trouble. What a virgo thing to do, isn’t it? to be in control. Grounded, they say. I always go deep, but that time I wished I was as light as you, as carefree as you.

I would’ve bottled that warmth if I could. That’s how badly I wanted to hold onto that newfound feeling. I would have brought it with me here, dispensed its contents drop by drop from time to time, let it linger on my sheets like a perfume and buried myself in it until I fall asleep. I’ve nurtured coldness in my life for a really long time that I crave even a slight hint of warmth when it’s near my grasp. Everything about you felt warm and familiar, strange and new—all at once. Even if I try, I can’t simplify it.

We talked for hours and every time you spoke my name, I flinched. When was the last I heard you say it? it’s half our age ago, I never thought I’d hear it again. It sounded so different coming from you. I couldn’t help but wonder if you’ve ever said it with a lump in your throat over the past years. Am I a good or a bad memory?

Where did we stand in each other’s lives? we were always catching up but only at a distance—on and off—for a long, long time. We were never clearly defined. We bonded more than friends but less than lovers. The chance was always there but we never grabbed it. You were always too careful; I was always a runaway. You hovered but never really landed because you wanted me to make the decision. "It was hard to find the right timing with you," you told me. Who would’ve thought that us getting older, acknowledging our regrets, totally abandoning what’s right and wrong, you moving back home and me leaving, your secrets, my wine, staying up ‘til dawn and just hearing each other’s voices again will convince me to finally let you in?

I wonder if fate is real or the universe really does something crazy and makes a fool of us sometimes, like reunite people unexpectedly and ignite old flames or awaken dormant feelings. I wonder if it randomly sends warmth to people’s hearts and makes them fall in love even if the circumstances are against it. I wonder if star-crossed lovers ever make it out alive in the end.

When you said you love me, did you mean it?

When I said it back, was it just a lie?

Do you think we should stay?

Is it worth it?

[tarlos-spain]

Whump Tarlos Week Day 2

Prompt: TK STRAND WHUMP: "What do you mean TK never made it there? I saw him leave a half hour ago - he should be there."

Title: Don't stop dreaming just because you had a nightmare

Summary: "Owen, when you said it's been a tough day for TK, what did you mean?"

"His last call was rough. A kid, twenty-five years old, overdosed. They did everything they could, but they lost him."

"Oh no."

"Exactly. When he came back, he was, you know...quiet, he looked sad, hurt, but he didn't want to talk about it. He took his stuff and as soon as it was time, he left. He said he was going straight home."

"Shit... I'm going to go out and look for him, maybe he wanted to walk and didn't want to talk to anyone."

As they were talking, Carlos heard a new incoming call on the phone. He looked at it and, seeing Lexi's name, it felt like he stopped breathing. He hated knowing his instinct was always right.

Carlos looked at his watch. He knew perfectly well how long it took TK to get home from the firehouse; sometimes there was a little more traffic and the bus was fifteen minutes late but it had been over an hour and his husband still hadn't arrived home.

He had sent him a couple of messages and he hadn't even read them. He had called him and TK hadn't answered. Carlos wasn't the type of person who would let himself get carried away for no reason out of anguish, especially when it was about TK, but on this occasion, he felt it inside, he felt that something was wrong, something had happened to his husband.

He called Owen, hoping that TK had stayed behind at the firehouse talking to him, joking with the guys; he even hoped that he had fallen asleep after too long a day.

"Hey Carlos." There was surprise in the tone of his father-in-law's voice. That could only mean he didn't know where his son was.

"Hey, Owen, tell me you know where TK is, tell me he's still over there."

"No, TK actually left for home as soon as the shift ended. It's been a hard enough day for him. Why, hasn't he come home yet?"

"No, I've been waiting for him for quite a while but nothing. I've texted him, I've called him... Owen, TK isn't answering."

"Oh, shit. I'm going to ask Tommy, Nancy and the others."

"Owen, when you said it's been a tough day for TK, what did you mean?"

"His last call was rough. A kid, twenty-five years old, overdosed. They did everything they could, but they lost him."

"Oh no."

"Exactly. When he came back, he was, you know...quiet, he looked sad, hurt, but he didn't want to talk about it. He took his stuff and as soon as it was time, he left. He said he was going straight home."

"Shit... I'm going to go out and look for him, maybe he wanted to walk and didn't want to talk to anyone."

As they were talking, Carlos heard a new incoming call on the phone. He looked at it and, seeing Lexi's name, it felt like he stopped breathing. He hated knowing his instinct was always right.

He told Owen he'd call him as soon as he heard anything, even though he knew, as much as he tried to believe otherwise, he wasn't going to give him good news.

"Tell me you found TK; tell me he's okay."

"I see you were expecting bad news," his former partner said on the other end of the phone.

"Fuck, Lexi, I’m not expecting bad news, I just want my husband home. Where is he, what happened?"

"We're two blocks from your house, the alley behind Target Market." Carlos knew that was ten minutes from the loft. Why hadn't TK come home then? "I don't know how to tell you this in a way that sounds less terrible than it is, but someone beat up your husband, Carlos."

He stormed out of the house, cell phone in his pocket as his only companion, and almost left his keys behind. He broke into a run, not remembering ever getting anywhere so fast. As soon as he arrived, he recognized the 126 ambulance and the figures of Tommy and Nancy still on shift and worried that this victim could have really be TK.

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