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sluttywonwoo · 1 year

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instead of you [party twenty-eight] || l.mh

pairing: [best friend’s brother] lee minho x college!reader ft. han jisung

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either.

warnings: swearing, mentions of sex (mdni)

word count: 3.6k

a/n: revamped my tom holland series from my main blog ( @wazzupmrstark ) to try and motivate myself to finish it!!

series masterlist | early access to the next chapter on ko-fi

Jisung was waiting on the bed when you made it back to your room. He raised his eyebrows expectantly when you came into view.

“So where were you?” he asked.

All you’d responded to his text with was be right there, not giving him an answer of any sort. You had tried to buy yourself time to come up with an excuse for why you weren’t in the room yourself, but that had evidently backfired on you since you still had nothing. You’d tied your wet hair back in the hopes of making it look less obvious that you had just taken a shower since you were still wearing your dirty clothes, but that was honestly the least of your worries

“I was with Minho,” you answered, figuring a half-truth was better than a full lie.

“Doing what?”

“He felt bad for me, I guess. Didn’t want me to be alone so he invited me to hang out.”

Jisung seemed to buy it, but he still looked confused. “You know you didn’t have to say yes, right?”

You rolled your eyes at him. “I know. I said yes because I wanted to. Your brothers can be fun to be around.”

“I guess,” he murmured.

“Not as fun as you, don’t worry,” you reassured him.

“I wasn’t worried!”

“Sure you weren’t.”

He brushes you off by shaking his head in denial before changing the subject. “Anyway, did you guys eat? Are you hungry?”

“I could eat.”

“I think there’s a place down the street that’s still open where we could go grab some soup, if you’re feeling up for it.”

“Sure, but didn’t you already eat with Felix?”

“Yeah, I was just gonna tag along so you could have some company.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“It’s not like I’ve got anything better to do.”

The streets were unsurprisingly empty. It was strange to see the wide sidewalks devoid of all of the foot traffic you had grown accustomed to in big cities like this. The restaurant Jisung had mentioned was a little hole-in-the-wall noodle shop squished in between department stores. A flickering neon sign hanging in the window above the door was the only indication that it was still open and you still hesitated before pushing open the door, just in case it was actually closed and they had forgotten to turn off the sign.

It was about as busy as you’d expected. There were couples and groups of friends scattered throughout the room, all grabbing a quick bite to eat at the only place whose kitchen was still open at the late hour.

Everyone else was dressed to go out and you were still wearing your stupid Han Family Vacation t-shirt. Jisung had put on a hoodie over his so at least you weren’t matching.

He helped you order from the English menu and then picked a booth for you both in the back of the restaurant.

“Thanks for this,” you sighed, holding up the receipt and gesturing to the place.

“Least I could do after ditching you.”

“You didn’t ditch me, Ji. I had to practically beg you to go to that thing with Felix.”

“Yeah, yeah whatever.”

“You’re so stubborn!” you scoffed, rolling your eyes.

“Why do you think we’re best friends?”

“Because you didn’t know anybody when you started school and I was the first sorry sucker that you stumbled across.”

It was his turn to roll his eyes. “Shut up.”

You tried to kick him underneath the table but he saw it coming and moved his leg before your foot could make contact.

“Nice try.”

A server delivered your soup shortly after the kicking incident and dropped off a plate of dumplings as well. You almost told them you didn’t order them, but Jisung simply thanked them and slid the plate over to his side of the table.

“I thought you already ate,” you mumbled in confusion.

“I did but that was hours ago,” he responded defensively. “And I know you hate eating alone.”

You smiled gratefully and leaned down to slurp up some of the broth from your miso soup. It burned your tongue a little, but you still managed to swallow it. Soup was best piping hot anyway- unless of course, it’s a fruit bisque or gazpacho, but that’s a different story.

When soup is hot, you can feel it warming you from the inside out. That’s why everyone eats it when it’s cold outside or when they’re sick with chills. At least, that’s what your mother always told you to get you to eat soup.

The miso soup wasn’t your mother’s chicken noodle that was actually from a can, but it still comforted you the same. Your cramps had already subsided from the medicine you took… and from the orgasm Minho had given you, but food also soothed the ache.

“Want a dumpling?” Jisung offered, holding one of the wontons out to you with his chopsticks.

You opened your mouth as an answer and he fed it to you, nearly dropping it into your soup in the process.

“Pretty good, right?” he asked.

“Very good,” you agreed.

Once you were both done you cleared your bowls and set them in the bin by the door, thanking the cashier again before letting yourselves out. You were in no rush to get back to the hotel, but you did have to get up early the next day to get everything on the itinerary done before your flight in the evening.

You took another shower when you made it back to your room, saving yourself the trouble of lying to Jisung again. You needed to get the fried food smell out of your hair anyway.

You crawled into bed after trading the shower with Jisung, willing yourself to fall asleep before he was done so that you wouldn’t have to lie awake next to him feeling guilty like you had the night prior.

It must have worked because the next time you opened your eyes it was light outside. It was your alarm, not the sunlight, that had woken you up though. You rolled over with a groan to shut it off, noticing you had a couple of texts from Minho. Jisung was waking up next to you so you ignored them, turning your phone face down on the bedside table just in case he looked over.

“Ready for another day of family fun?” he groaned.

“Always.”

You got ready together and packed the rest of your things in your suitcase. Since you were only in Beijing for a couple of days, you hadn’t really made the effort to unpack. Everything was easily stuffed back into your luggage in a matter of minutes. You helped Jisung with his while he brushed his teeth. He had always been slow to get ready.

Despite your best friend’s speed or lack thereof, you and Jisung were the first ones down in the lobby. The rest of his family members trickled in slowly. First Felix, then Minho, and finally his parents.

You checked your bags with a luggage storage facility a block or so from the hotel so that you could walk around the city without worrying about it. The service was actually quite cheap and came with an option to insure your items just in case anything were to happen to them. You didn’t have anything valuable in your belongings aside from your laptop, but even that wasn’t anything crazy expensive. You couldn’t say the same of the rest of the Hans. Minho’s backpack alone was some fancy brand you didn’t recognize. Dom paid the extra fee for the insurance and herded everyone outside so that you could make it to the Forbidden City before scrambling to the airport.

You’d think with how much traveling you’d been doing in the past month that you’d be used to the chaos of airport security and customs but somehow you were still caught off guard by the TSA agents randomly selecting you to be searched.

“Fucking again?” you muttered to yourself as they pulled you aside.

“You’re just lucky, babe,” Jisung said sweetly with a pat on your back.

This time, he waited for you while the rest of the Hans went ahead to the gate. It didn’t take as long since you were the only one from the group that was selected.

“They’re about to start boarding, c’mon,” he ushered you through the terminal as soon as you were released, leading you by the hand as you weaved through the crowds. The whole ordeal gave you a strange sense of deja vu.

His parents were waiting by the front desk at the gate. They explained that Felix and Minho had already boarded and that you and Jisung should go ahead and board too while they sorted something out.

“Do you think everything’s okay?” you asked as you scanned your boarding pass.

“I’m sure it’s fine,” he assured you, not sounding entirely confident in the matter.

“I can take the middle seat this time,” you offered, shimmying through the aisle so that you could walk and talk to Jisung at the same time.

“Are you sure? It’s a long flight.”

“I’m sure,” you insisted. “You’ve sat in the middle like every time so far.”

“That’s because I want you to be comfortable.”

“That’s very chivalrous of you.”

“I know, I’m a great boyfriend.”

You rolled your eyes and let Jisung squeeze by to settle into the window seat before sliding in next to him. You made eye contact with Minho as you hovered in the aisle. He was a handful of rows back with Felix and some stranger. He raised two fingers to his eyebrow in a cocky little salute, making you roll your eyes yet again.

Minho’s pick for the family trip was Bali, Indonesia. Unfortunately, there was no direct flight to Bali from Beijing which meant that you’d have to make two connections before finally touching down on the island.

Jisung told you that he picked it because he was a sucker for nostalgia. Apparently, the three of them had visited together a few years ago during one of the tour legs for his backup dancing and had the best time. He had loved it so much that he’d wanted to go back ever since and bring their parents but was so busy that he never had the chance until now.

The seat next to you stayed empty until the very last minute, giving you the false hope that you’d score extra space. It was eventually filled by a girl who looked to be about your age, who greeted you and Jisung politely before sticking her AirPods in her ears and ignoring you entirely.

You could tell that your best friend was into her as soon as he laid eyes on her. She was exactly his type- thick, tall, and she wasn’t giving him an ounce of attention. She checked all of his boxes.

“Keep it in your pants,” you muttered, unsure of whether she could hear you and/or speak English. You didn’t care either way.

“I wasn’t going to do anything,” he shot back defensively.

“Yeah, well your eyes are about to pop out of your head. Dial it back.”

“Shhh!”

“Oh sorry, am I embarrassing you?”

“Yes, kind of.”

“Sucks.”

“You’re the worst wing-woman ever.”

You nudged him subtly with your shoulder. “I’m not a wing-woman, I’m your girlfriend.”

“I know, I know.”

“Then fucking act like it!”

“Yes, dear,” he sighed and laced his fingers with yours.

You leaned over to whisper in his ear. “Maybe she could be our third.”

His eyes widened. “Really?”

“No!”

In all honesty, you wouldn’t mind having a threesome with a stranger, especially if they were as pretty as the woman next to you. It wouldn’t be your first time. But you could never cross that line with your best friend, especially now that you were involved with Minho.

You felt a little guilty for cockblocking him since you were getting laid, by his brother of all people, but there was just no feasible way to make it happen for him.

“Even if you did have enough game to pull her, there’s no way you’d be able to get away with a quickie in between flights.”

You kept glancing at the girl next to you out of fear that she was listening in and totally creeped out and horrified by your conversation about her, but she still had her earbuds in and appeared to have dozed off.

“You don’t know what I’m capable of!”

“Yes, I do! I’ve spent too many nights in your living room being forced to hear what you’re capable of.”

Jisung scoffed at you. “Perv.”

“What part of ‘forced to hear’ didn’t click?”

He glared but didn’t respond. Your whispering was beginning to get heated so you mutually decided to stop talking for the time being so that no one would be able to overhear you. Instead, you just traded increasingly absurd looks until you both got bored.

Jisung was the first to fall asleep, slumping against the wall of the plane in a position that couldn’t be comfortable. He’d forgotten to close the shade of the window so you leaned over and closed it for him so that the setting sun wouldn’t wake him up.

You were about to join him, leaning over to rest your head against his shoulder when your phone buzzed in your back pocket. You weren’t used to receiving notifications on a plane, but the airline you were flying had in-flight service. You had to shift awkwardly in order to reach your pocket and not wake either of the people beside you up.

The message made you want to scoff aloud.

M: is ji asleep?? come to the back ;)

You sat up straight and craned your neck to try and catch Minho’s eye, but his head was down, probably buried in his phone.

Y: what? no.

M: why not

Y: just because he’s asleep doesn’t mean i can come see you for no reason that’d be weird

M: are you just saying that because you’re afraid he’ll wake up?

Y: well yeah kind of

M: he won’t

Y: you don’t know that

M: c’mon, i’ll make it worth your time

Y: can’t you just tell me what this is about

M: but that ruins the surprise :(

Y: what surprise could you possibly have 30,000 feet in the air

Y: and don’t say your dick

M: …

Y: you’re so fucking annoying

M: all i’m saying is i haven’t joined the mile high club yet

Y: this is a commercial flight with your entire family. we’re not fucking on this plane.

M: worth a shot

Y: you’re insufferable

M: you love it

You sighed and put your phone face down in your lap, taking a quick glance to your left to see if Jisung was still asleep. He was still slumped against the wall with his eyes shut, seemingly dead to the world. You tried to do the same but it was hard from the middle seat. You were paranoid that if you were to doze off you’d accidentally lean over onto the stranger next to you. You’d seen enough rom-coms to know how awkward that would be.

You settled on scrolling through the in-flight movies on the little screen attached to the seat in front of you. You’d have to buy a pair of earbuds to watch anything, but you figured it would be worth it if it meant you wouldn’t be bored out of your mind for the next three hours.

There was a mix of Chinese and international films but everything was dubbed in Chinese either way and only a select few offered English subtitles. You picked one that you’d seen a little bit of press for back home and bought the earbuds from a flight attendant when they came around with the snacks.

It was late when your first flight landed and everyone was feeling worn out from all the tourism and traveling but you still had two more flights to catch before you’d finally be in Bali. The layover in the Hong Kong airport was two hours and you spent it trying to sleep whilst curled up next to Jisung in one of the stiff leathery chairs in front of the gate. Your exhaustion allowed you to fade in and out of consciousness fairly easily, but you were having trouble staying asleep. Each time you’d drift off you would suddenly jolt awake in a panic, thinking you were late for something.

Every time it happened, Jisung would assure you that he’d wake you up when it was time to board the plane, that you could rest, that they wouldn’t leave without you. Eventually, you gave up on the idea of getting any sleep altogether and resolved to just stay awake until you were on the next flight.

“I know this is the part of the trip where everyone’s getting tired,” Dom had said when you were walking from one side of the Hong Kong airport to the other, “but that’s why we saved the more relaxing destinations for the latter end- so we can all get some rest.”

His words did little to comfort you considering most of your energy was being spent keeping up with all the lies you were telling everyone but you smiled and nodded with the rest of the group anyway, trying to play along as always.

The second flight was about the same length as the first and this time you got the window seat. Jisung sat in the middle with Felix on his right and Minho and their parents filled up the row behind you.

“You should sleep,” Jisung suggested, brushing your hair out of your eyes.

“I’ve been trying to,” you grumbled back, unable to soften the tone of your voice.

You felt bad for snapping at him. He didn’t deserve that. Not after everything else you were doing behind his back.

“Sorry,” you mumbled in apology.

“It’s okay. I know you’re tired,” he assured you, making you feel even guiltier. “Do you want me to rub your head?”

You could only shake your head in response, not trusting yourself to speak. You suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to cry and turned your head towards the wall as your eyes welled up with tears. You didn’t even try to stop it, knowing it would be even more obvious if you did. You knew you wouldn’t be able to hide it from Jisung either, even if he couldn’t see your face. He knew you too well, knew your body language. But he didn’t ask about it, likely not wanting to alert Felix, who was oblivious, that anything was wrong.

Thankfully, the crying exhausted you even more and you were able to fall asleep, only to be woken up again when the flight landed at the second layover stop.

It was a shame that you wouldn’t be able to properly visit Malaysia but at least their airport was pretty nice. It had been several hours since you’d last eaten so Nikki ordered a bunch of food for everyone to share from the only kiosk that was open in the middle of the night. You shared a thing of white rice with Jisung but you didn’t have much of an appetite to try anything else which was a bummer since you didn’t know when you’d have another chance to.

The third and final flight was a few hours later. By then, you’d had a little food and sleep so you weren’t feeling as dramatically miserable as before but the numb feeling of guilt still lingered in your stomach. You assumed that wouldn’t change- not until you came clean to Jisung about… everything. And you couldn’t see yourself doing that any time in the foreseeable future because you were a pussy.

You’d rather end this fling with Minho now and take it to your grave than lose your friendship with Jisung. Was sleeping with someone twice considered a fling? Regardless, you had to end it before you got too attached. You weren’t sure what it was for Minho, but until he said otherwise you would stay under the impression that it was just sex. Again, it didn’t really matter what it was. You just had to put an end to it. You weren’t sure why you thought you could finally give into the sexual tension just because Minho found out you weren’t actually dating his brother but it didn’t matter now. It was too late and you were already suffering the consequences of your actions.

You’d given Jisung the window seat again which left you sandwiched in between him and Minho this time around, and being so close to him was making it difficult not to think about the intimate moments you’d shared with him. Your arms were just barely brushing against the armrest and yet that was the only part of your body that you could feel. He was just so warm that your attention was drawn to wherever your bodies connected- be it your arms, your lips, your thighs… but you couldn’t think about that now. Not when you were trying to cut yourself off from him in order to save your friendship. You wouldn’t have sex with Minho again. You couldn’t.

You were shaken from your thoughts by Minho nudging your shoulder. You gave him a questioning look, wondering what he would have to say to you with your best friend sleeping right there. He leaned over to whisper in your ear, smirking as he did.

“Wanna have sex?”

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forthelostones · 1 year

Text

♡ black female reader x ellie williams (part one) ♡

synopsis: ellie is your TA for your english lecture at university and she pulls you aside for revision.

warnings. 18+ (mdni); switch!reader x switch!ellie, teasing, fingering, female cunnilingus, degradation, small boob appreciation, and n!pple play.

an: hi everyone! this is my first idek what this is called when i was coming up "one shot".... (is that even a thing anymore?). i am super nervous about this! but please enjoy x.

wc: 2.2k

PART TWO

It was the last few months at university and you were getting entirely tired of your English lecture. Your professor talked slowly, and quietly, and pointed out the obvious connections within the simple texts. You felt as if you were far too advanced for this 300-level college course. You answered all the questions, understood what the “deep” metaphors were, and made A’s on every paper. The only thing that kept you interested was the TA who graded all those papers. Ellie Williams was a senior English major with a specialty in Print Media. You heard stories about her, glanced at her from a distance, and saw her around but you could never gain the courage to speak to her outside of class.

She sat in the corner, near the lecture podium, with her auburn hair pulled back, and a pencil tucked behind her ear as she looked out onto the hall. She sat slouched with her legs spread open, one foot taping the ground slowly, and the occasional eye roll at a stupid question.

As you sat listening to the room share their perspectives on a Shakespearean text, you took quick glances at her over the corner of your laptop. Today she was wearing a loose, red, long-sleeve shirt, exposing her forearms. Her right arm was adorned with faded black ink that traveled all the way up her shoulder. The warmth that traveled to your cheeks fell between your thighs, as your eyes focused on her fingers that were now swirling that same pencil in a rhythmic motion.

“Have a great weekend.” Your professor nearly shouted startling you.

Your chest caved-in and your eyes bugged outward, you felt a nick of embarrassment hoping no one saw your body jolt. You close your laptop and see Ellie crack a smirk as she walks over to you.

What could she want, you think.

“Sorry y/n, I couldn’t get around to emailing you last night, but Professor said I should help you with your upcoming essay.”

Her low voice echoed in the now empty hall.

“Oh? Really? Sure. I thought my draft was pretty good but—”

“It’s not that you’re being singled out, I have to work with everyone on theirs.” She interjected.

That knot of embarrassment in your chest tightened as you saw no sincerity in her sage eyes.

“It’s last minute but it won’t take long. We can go to the office and work on it a little or we can reschedule, up to you.” She shrugged.

You pause in an attempt to act like you’re thinking. It’s Friday night, you should have something to do, but you don’t. “Sure. Let’s do it.”

You gather all your things and follow behind her into your professor's office, just across the hall. In front of you were the large floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out onto the crowded quad lawn. Students soaking up the sun and lying in the grass chatting with their friends. The other walls were covered in bookshelves with every academic book you could ever imagine. She sat her bag down and pulled out your pristine rough draft, which was now slightly crumbled.

“Hm,” slipped out.

“What?” She asked smugly.

“It’s just my paper was kind of thrown into your bag like… shit.”

“Oh, sorry.” She says attempting to smooth it out by placing it on her chest and using her palms.

She sat next to you in the large armed chair, her knees practically touching yours through her black jeans. Electricity sparked as you came in slight contact with her body. Her hands adjusted to the corners of your paper, her fingers fiddling between each page, spreading them open and moving up and down. You noticed all the notes and corrections she made, the red pen she used scribbled out sentences, rewrote phrases, and small notes on the margins like ‘too wordy’.

“Are you sure this is my paper?” You asked, snatching it from beneath her hands.

“Read it. Y/N, How Shakespeare Altered The English Language.” She read.

“You scribbled out my title too?”

Your hands became damp with nervous anger. You were top of your class, your professors adore your writing and now a TA just a year above tells you how you’re falling short.

“It was boring.” She said plainly.

“Simple language is good. It’s easier for people like you to understand.”

You face her and notice how defined her freckles are. How full her lips are and you unfurl your eyebrows as you realize how close you are to her face.

She snorted. “People like me? You mean the person who grades your shitty papers every other week? Who can absolutely give you any grade I want, that person?”

You stutter in an attempt to get words out, but you know she’s right. She could tank your grades if she wanted to. Her face turns upwards in a challenge.

“So now my papers are shitty? They’re shitty now?”

Your two bodies are now completely turned towards each other, knees touching, and eyes locked. The air becomes thick when she doesn’t reply. Adrenaline rushes to your head quickly, as someone who regularly avoids conflicts this feeling is overwhelming.

“If you read the notes… maybe you would understand. Clearly you don’t have the capacity to even do that.” She smiled.

She thought this was funny, seeing you flustered, in a hard spot where you couldn’t comprehend why you were being judged so harshly.

“I want so see everyone else’s papers.” You asked.

“What?”

“I want to see how much editing you did to others.”

You stand up and grab her bag and run your hands through it, before you could pull anything out, she jumps up and grasps your wrist with surprising strength. Your heart beats violently as her she pulls your hand away from the fabric of her bag. As she shoves you away, the junk falls out onto the floor.

“Really?” She muttered and stuffed her items back inside.

She gave you her signature eye roll and huffed as she ‘reorganized’ her stuff. As she stood up she walks towards you without saying a word. Her eye contact burnt you as they became low with anger.

“Ellie.” You sigh.

You feared that she’d use her strength against you.

“Y/N, there are no other papers,” She smirked. “For someone so smart you can be so dumb.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you heard her words. You peered over her shoulder, quickly observing the bright windows, afraid to be seen.

Her fingertips wrap around your waist softly, pulling your closer to her hips. Your lips pursed tightly together as you fought to speak.

“So you lied to get me alone?” You asked.

“Can you keep up?” She tugged at you a little more. Naturally, your body resists her touch, but you became so wet at her criticism of your intelligence.

“I can.” You reply sorely.

Her hand slowly rises up your back, tracing your spine.

“The thing is, you always leave class so fast. Rushing out. I never could catch you even if I tried.”

Her fingers do a dance under your shirt and the coolness of them startles you. Then bring her palms down to your ass, which made you moan, surprising the both of you.

“What can I say, I’m busy.” You lie.

You spent your nights in your apartment reading and watching the same movies. Sometimes you’d think of Ellie and recall her face from class if she saw you laying in bed, practically naked.

“Busy? I don’t know if I believe that.” She challenged with a grin.

She unclipped your bra skillfully with one hand. You gasped at the release of tension, you pushed your pelvis against hers, you were so close you felt her chest rise and fall.

“What’s not to believe? I’m top of my class, President of—“

“Don’t care,” She interrupted.

Her lips came one inch from yours and all you could feel is her breath graze your lips. Her eyes jolt down to the valley of your cupids bow, which made her swipe her lips with her tongue.

“I love your lips Y/N.”

“Why don’t you taste them then?”

She leaned closer but did not come in contact, her hands rubbed up towards your loosened bra and came in contact with your hard, brown nipples. She circled around them gently.

“And give you the satisfaction after you insulted my intelligence?” She grimaced.

You pushed her away and clipped your bra back and headed towards the desk to grab your things. She looked surprised as you gather yourself to head for the door. As you bent over the chair, she came behind you and thrust herself onto you. That tattooed hand slithered up your body, to your throat, and pulled you back into her body.

“Do act so coy Y/N. The way you stare at me when I spread my legs open, when my fingers glide against papers, and when I show my arms you can’t help but stare.”

Her hand travels to your pants, undos your button, and dips her fingers into your soaked panties. You gasp at the firmness of her calloused fingertips. You push your ass into her hips and feel her pelvis brush against you, she likes to feel you from this angle.

“So?” You fought to say through moans.

“So, fuck me Y/N. Why do you have to be so stuck up?”

Her fingers traced your slit, plunging deeper into the slick she was responsible for. She pulled her hands out, dripping with your desire, and she raised them to your lips. She took her other hand and grabbed your jaw gently causing your mouth to open. She slipped her fingers in your mouth making you taste yourself. You wrapped your tongue around her thick fingers, unafraid of anyone who could see inside, you felt pure ecstasy of hearing her moans as you fulfilled her fantasy.

You turned around to face her and finally kissed her. Her lips were soft with lust and her tongue slipped quickly into your mouth. She pushed your back into the desk, gripping your thighs to hoist you up on top, her strength shocked you. She wrapped her hands around your hips and pulled you deeper into her mouth. Your hands naturally fell around her waist and unbuckled her belt and desperately reached for her core.

She pulled her shirt up to reveal her bare chest. You always noticed her perky nipples, wondering about her crude disposition against bras, you weren’t complaining though. She forced a nipple in your mouth and commanded you to suck. She grabs the back of your head and pulls you in more. They were the perfect size, smaller, but perfect to suck hands-free. She restrained her moans as your teeth wrapped around her flesh. You can tell she never could give up being in control, the stories confirm that. Always on top, always servicing others, so your image of her was different than the view here.

“What if someone sees?” You ask nervously.

“Windows are shaded from the outside.” She said as she used her arm to clean the desk.

She pushed you back and began to lay warm kisses on your belly. You tuck your hands in her scalp when she gripped your wrist and slams it into the desk. You groan in pain but it excites you.

Her fingers hook into the loops of your jeans and pulls them down. Her hand palms your warm panties and brushes upwards, you try not to show how much you need her, but she presses harder.

“Say it.” She probes.

“What? That I want you?” You ask.

“Say it.”

You don’t reply and she pulls your panties off aggressively and brings her lips to yours. She starts kissing your pussy so passionately you imagine you could cum from that.

She lifts her head, “Watch me.”

The tip of her tongue and dipped it into your crease, searching for your clit. Once she finds it, she takes her fingers and spreads you wide open. Her tongue enters inside of you and your back arches into her. Your body waves up and down from desperation, you know she posses more than she’s leading on. She gets a good rhythm going and feels you dripping down her chin, she stops. Leaving your body twitching from frustration.

You stood up dripping, reaching for her.

“Y/N, say you need me.” She commanded as she was reaching to slip her shirt back on.

“I need you Ellie.” You break.

You dropped to your knees tugging at the waistline of her jeans, pulling them down with her underwear. She was drenched too, so turned on from touching you. You dug your face into her wetness, your tongue meeting her delicious taste, sweet and warm, sliding down your throat. You bring your middle and ring finger to her entrance and she sighs out of pure passion. As you entered her, you felt her fingers gripping your shoulder, and her grunts tickled your brain. You arched your fingers inside of her and worked your tongue around her clit in circles.

“Fuck.” She moaned.

Her panting got deeper, faster, and her nails pinched into your skin. You sucked at her clit to bring her to a climax. As you pulled your fingers out her stickiness strung from her core and straight into your mouth.

#ellie williams #ellie williams x you #ellie the last of us #ellie x reader #lesbian #ellie williams smut #tlou2 ellie #ellie williams fanfic #ellie x fem reader #ta!ellie williams #x black fem reader #x black reader

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hangeswif3 · 10 months

Text

Out of line

Warning: a little nsfw, maybe a bit yandere if u squint. Hange being possessive. Angstttt, no happy ending. They/them pronouns for Hange.

Summary: You and Hange break up, they don’t take it very well.

Note: This is just the second thing I write so please be nice, also English is not my first language so it might be kinda grammatically weird. Written in completely free form so I hope you understand. Thanks for reading <3

Hoping that Hange manages your breakup in a healthy way was a terrible mistake.

“What?” Hange answered turning to look at you, you can see how the confusion in her eyes turns to anger.

“I said we should breakup” you said with more anger than you intended “I’m so tired of you trying to push me back, you know im worth more than staying to do office work”.

You had gotten transferred to Hange’s squad not very long ago (against all odds, since you were on Levi’s squad before and you thought he didn’t transferred soldiers easily). And the truth is, you were a little worried about having a secret relationship with your section commander, but you never anticipated the real issue. Hange wanted to keep you inside the walls. You wanted to fight, you loved the rush to being out there, and you knew you were good. Hange knew that too. But they always found a way of leaving you behind, helping with the “logistics”.

So, you thought it was time for them to realize how stupid that decision was, and the only way to do it was by breaking up your personal relationship. Easy, right? Or so you thought.

“Oh, so that’s what this is about now, you wanna risk your life stupidly and you think I’ll let you if we’re not together” they stated, you can see how they are trying to control themselves.

After what seemed like forever, they smiled and said “Okay, we break up, but don’t think this ends here”. And they left.

Now, 2 months later it’s been a power game since. You can’t count the amount of times they have texted you drunk.

2:30 am Hange: wher are you? I’m outsde your room

2:31 am Hange: whoo are u with rm? It better not be that soldier I saw u with the othr day

3 missed calls from Hange

2:35 am Hange: amswer ur fcking phone

2:35 am Hange: I swear to god im gonna break down this door

2:40 am Hange: okay im srry just open the door pls

Only for you to get a “sorry about that” text the next morning.

Hange was extremely jealous when it came to you talking to any other person.

Even came to doubt about the friendly relationship you and Levi had.

Every time they saw you with Levi, or practicing fighting with a new soldier, they had to restrain themselves from going there and rip you apart from anyone who was touching you.

Cause they couldn’t do that anymore. You weren’t theirs.

But let’s face it, you didn’t wanna break up with them either, so when you saw them with some other soldier from Levi’s squad at a party, you couldn’t help but to drag them away.

“You’re out of line soldier” they said with a small smirk.

“Shut up” you said, taking a sip of your drink.

“You’re a brat” Hange responded.

“And you’re sleeping now with Levi’s soldiers? Classy” you said with a humorless laugh.

The commander leaned a little to whisper in your ear “I have to keep myself entertained, otherwise I’d come back and fuck you senseless for even suggesting that we do this”

After all that, they ended up eating you out in the nearest restroom.

That was the beginning of your routine.

It was a common reoccurrence now, you made each other jealous, you fought, then fuck, then came back to the “break up”.

All to come back the the same reason of the breakup, they didn’t wanna risk your life.

Hange had lost a lot of people on the way, but they couldn’t bare to lose you. Everything but you. So they kept you inside the walls, and they’d keep doing so.

That was your routine until they couldn’t take it anymore. Until their jealousy got the best of them.

It was a normal day for you, you were just practicing fighting with Levi, he kept helping you practice and getting better. You missed fighting titans, you missed the last two expeditions due to Hange’s need of leaving you out of it.

“Pay attention brat” Levi said kicking your legs and knocking you down.

“Ugh” you responded standing up, feeling a little dizzy.

“Wow there” Levi quickly grabbed you by the waist when you stumbled, getting you close to him, in an awkward position. “You good?” He asked.

You still felt a little dizzy but just nodded, looking at him, noticing how you were extremely close together.

Hange was looking from afar, this was a normal reoccurrence, they used to look at you from afar sometimes, that was their way of keeping you in check. Making sure no one did anything they weren’t supposed to.

They were already annoyed by you and Levi getting so friendly, but they had perfect control over them. But when they saw Levi’s hands on your waist, and the way you were looking at him, Hange saw red. They couldn’t help but to walk slowly towards you two.

You weren’t the first to notice. You just saw how Levi was smirking until you turned your head and saw Hange. At first you thought it was gonna be a normal fight-fuck think between you two, but the face they had, you knew it was dangerous, and for a moment you were afraid of what was going to happen.

“Fucking finally” Levi said “she needs to go to the infirm…”

He was interrupted by Hange punching him on the jaw, Hange was wearing rings per usual, so quickly Levi started to bleed. This made him a little confused so he stumbled back. When you saw Levi looking back at Hange you didn’t know what could happen, so you stood between them, trying to push Hange away.

“You’re a dead man” Hange said in a deep voice, a voice you had never heard before.

“Stop Hange, let’s go” you said, trying to pull them away with you. But they stayed there, looking at Levi.

It seemed like an eternity, Levi and Hange where looking at each other, you saw Levi deciding what to do in his mind. A crowd was forming around them, the punch certainly attracted many people’s attention.

“Please” you said, just wanting to go.

Hange finally looked at you, you couldn’t believe what was happening, until they looked at Levi and said “don’t ever lay a finger on her again”. Before letting you drag them away from there.

Levi just smirked, knowing what this was about.

You dragged them to their office and closed the door behind you, before turning back to them.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You said, your heartbeat still going at a thousand.

“Why was he touching you?” Was the only thing they said.

“What the fuck? Levi? Really?” Was all you could say.

They walked up to you, lifted you up by the waist and sat you on their desk, putting both their hands on their desk at each side of you and leaning closer.

“Why. Did. He. Touch. You?” They repeated, clearly annoyed and more angered.

You just wanted this to be over, you could see how angry they were. “We were just practicing and I got dizzy so he helped me not to fall”

“Bullshit” they said slowly, hitting the desk and backing up, passing their hand through their hair. “Why do you keep doing this to me?” They said, almost painfully.

“To you?” You laughed ironically “I am the one that’s gonna be the new scandal around here thanks to your little act”

That just seemed to annoyed them more.

“Can’t you see this, I was just trying to protect you” they said, now referring to the breakup.

Finally you looked at them. They looked exhausted, like they hadn’t slept for days.

“I can protect myself” there was no backing up now.

“But I can’t. I can’t focus on protecting my squad when all I can think about is you being safe. I can’t” they said painfully.

“So what do you want me to do?” You finally said, tired of all this.

“Quit the corps” they said.

“What?”

“Quit the corps, come live with me. We can be free together, we can have a nice house and you’ll be mine”

You sighed, you couldn’t believe they were asking you this, they knew how important this was for you. But you love them too.

“Would you quit with me?”

“What?” They asked, clearly confused.

“If I am going to quit my dream for you, it’s only fair for you to quit the corps to be with me, if you love me”

Hange stayed silent, it was too much. You knew how much they loved titans, and science, it was their nature, and it was why you loved them.

After a long silence, you knew the answer. You didn’t notice you were crying until you could taste a salty tear. You cleaned your face with your hand before speaking.

“I’ll request a change in squad in the morning” was all you said with the strongest voice you could muster.

Im sorryyyy, should I make a part two of this? Thanks for reading. Love u.

#possessive hange #hange x y/n #hange x reader #hange zoe #hange x you #snk #hange zoë #attack on titan

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countessofravenclaw · 5 months

Text

Puede la ondulación cambiar una marea? part eight

Have you ever imagined what would happen if instead of of making Ambar Sol, Sharon would have aproached her problem with more level-headedness? What if, instead of throwing her daughter's life into a curve she just fires the Valentes, in hopes that they go back to Mexico and never find out the truth? Well, it was never going to be that easy, "everything you want you can achieve" being the family motto and all the for the Valentes after all. Monica and Miguel, could easily find another job, and so they do, with another family. A family that ends up being a bit of a surprise for Luna and all her friends.

“Lass uns später noch einmal darüber reden. Danke dir übrigens!” Gastón heard his mother speak on the phone as he entered the dining room. It had been a while since he had heard her speak German.

Both of his parents spoke few languages outside of English—because who didn’t know how to speak that? They both spoke Portuguese, German, at least moderate French and Gastón wasn’t sure which Scandinavian language it was, but his Dad knew some of that as well.

“Darling,” Isla took off her handsfree earpiece as she saw him and looked at her watch, “you’re up already?”

“Yeah,” Gastón nodded, “Did I interrupt your business call?”

“No, it was ending anyway.” Isla shook her head and walked closer to him around the table, “How are you feeling? Should you be up?”

“I’ve spent the last 36 hours staring at four walls, and I’m getting sick of it,” Gastón sighed, “I’m good.”

“You sure?” Isla looked at him, “You’re not having any chest pain?”

“No,” Gastón shook his head again.

“Blurry vision or any memory problems?”

“I can recite for you the full fire department ranking system if you want,” He sat down on a chair, “Mom, you’re just going through a checklist.”

“You bet I am,” Gastón had never seen so much worry in either of his parents' eyes than during the past few days. “Two days ago, you were in the hospital. I’m sorry if we're being a bit cautious, but that is our right.”

“Okay,” He sighed again, “Where’s Dad?”

“Calvin gave us a contact in the OFI, so he’s talking to them. We are not going to wait for any official report from the school to know what actually happened. You’re not going back in there before we do.”

“Morning!!” Luna jumped into the dining room.

“Morning,” Isla looked at her, “How are you feeling?”

“100 percent!” Luna jumped up briefly. “I texted Juliana last night, and the training starts back up tomorrow and since the school is still canceled so we can train for longer, which is amazing. I thought I’d go to the rink today to get a feel for it back. I’ve been away from the rink for a few days, and I honestly feel like I can’t breathe.”

“That is maybe not the best idea.” Isla responded to her.

“What?” Luna stared.

“That you go to the rink,” Isla crossed her arm.

“Why?”

“You were in the hospital too, let's not forget that,” Isla looked at Luna, “Smoke inhalation is serious, no matter what level. My father taught me that a long time ago, the biggest reason for fire fatalities is the smoke and carbon monoxide, not the actual fire. That is why they wear those masks. The doctors said that you should take it easy for a few days, and since you don’t even have practice, you shouldn’t go.”

“But I feel fine,” Luna tried, “I’ve been resting for two days. I need to train. It’s important!”

“Your health is much more important. I’m sorry Luna, but this isn’t your decision to make. It’s ours, and the answer is no. You can go tomorrow, when you’ve rested today and let the antibiotics do their job. There is no reason for you to try to exert yourself as soon as you can.”

“But…” Luna sat down.

“No buts. We’re responsible for you, and you have to allow us to do that.”

“It is very pointless to try to argue with her,” Gastón said to Luna, “I’ve tried for almost 18 years.”

“And you haven’t succeeded many times, have you?” Isla looked at him slightly more amused.

“And this is just one of them, it is worse when there are two.”

“What was that?” Marco walked into the dining room.

“Nothing.” Gastón said quickly as his dad looked at him. “And if you’re about to ask me the same checklist, don’t bother, Mom already did that. I’m good.”

“Good.” Marco nodded as he placed his hand on Isla’s back.

“What did they say?” She asked him.

“The investigation has been completed, and the report that they will give to the school classifies the fire as an accident caused by flammable printer inks being stored improperly. The storage unit had a distribution board that short circuited and the sparks caught on the fluids. They never should have been stored there.”

“So, Blake has a logistic issue?” Isla shook her head, “Someone could have died.”

“It is unbelievable,” She and Marco looked at Gastón, “It is a big hit for the school administration that can’t just be damage controlled. They’ll be forced to take a hard look at things now.”

“So, am I allowed to go to school anymore or not?” Gastón asked, “Because it's kind of hard to graduate if I’m not allowed to step into the building.”

“We’ll talk to the school board tomorrow,” Isla responded, “but as of now if all the necessary security measures have been taken, which they have promised they’d do, Luna can go on Tuesday. Gastón, the doctor signed you off for at least 12 days, so you’re not going anywhere before that. Don’t you even dare to think about the rink.”

“Wasn’t planning on.” He sighed while looking at his phone. He could admit that much that he was in no shape to actually skate right now.

“Oh, and Luna,” Marco changed the subject, “I also had the chance to talk with Lukie.”

“Who?” Luna looked confused.

“She’s the associate that Alexei has in the case of your visitations,” Marco explained, “Unfortunately, the in-person visits are being pushed to one time every three weeks.”

“That’s like once a month!!” Luna exclaimed, “I can’t see Mom and Dad more than that?”

“It is extremely unfair, but they’re arguing the severity of the case. Lukie said that this should be temporary, and she’ll set it straight, because it is infringing on your rights. Important thing is that you have rights and one of them actually is phone times.”

“What are those?” Luna asked again. All the legal terms had gone right over her head.

“You’re entitled to one hour phone calls, twice a week.”

“I’ll get to talk with Mom and Dad?!?!” Luna jumped up from the table.

“Yes,” Marco handed Luna a phone. “I scheduled one for you for today, at 12. The call will come from the detention facility, there is someone surveying it on your parents’ end and it will be recorded, so you can’t plan a jailbreak, but that’s better than nothing. We can go over later how you can schedule the calls yourself. It will come to this.”

“Why can’t they just call my phone?” Luna asked, even if she was almost too excited to care.

“We are not giving the detention facility your phone number,” Isla shook her head, “We don’t trust the place, and the more it is out there, the more it can leak. That is an old phone that we got a temporary operator on, works for phone calls just fine.”

“You said 12?” Luna asked and suddenly checked her own phone, “OMG! That’s like in an hour. I need to call Simon about this!!” She jumped up from the table and turned to leave before turning back and looking at Isla and Marco, “Thank You.”

Then she ran off.

“This should have been disclosed as an opportunity from the beginning,” Isla said Marco. “Did Lukie say why it hadn't?”

“She promised to get to the bottom of this.” Marco nodded. “But honestly, I don’t know. The police and the facilities aren’t clearly thinking what sort of effects this situation can have on a child.”

“Hey! Luna just zoomed past me. Has something happened?” Suddenly Gastón heard a voice behind him.

“Nina?” He got up from the chair and turned around to see her walk into the dining room. “How did you get in here?”

“We gave her the key and clearances when you were in the hospital,” Isla explained, “Did we not tell you?”

“No,” Gastón shook his head as he walked to his girlfriend, “You didn’t tell me either.”

“I thought you knew.” She responded before he closed her in a tight hug—not as tight as he would have wanted though, given the burn on his arms was sensitive to pressure.

“We thought it would be best for you if she gets in here as easily as possible.”

“You thought right,” Gastón smiled—

He momentarily closed his eyes and had to place his hand on the table to steady himself for a moment, before he almost lost his balance.

“Sit down.” His dad had rushed to his side as soon as he had started feeling dizzy. He placed his hand on his forehead, “You’re looking really pale. Do you feel feverish at all?”

“No,” Gastón shook his head as he sat down, “Why would I have a fever?”

“It would be a sign that you’re developing an infection.” He felt three pairs of concerned eyes land on him as he sat back down on the chair. Marco’s hand moved to his shoulder. “At that point if there is a sliver of a sign, we won’t be having a conversation about why, but we’ll already be going. You wanna argue with me about alarm symptoms?”

Who wanted to argue about taking illness symptoms seriously with a person who had to look over his own parents his whole adolescent and young adult life while they slowly lost their battle with cancer?

“No,” Gastón sighed, “but I’m…”

“If you say that you’re fine one more time… We’re not taking any chances here, not with you.”

“Okay,” Gastón relented, “My head’s killing me, I feel dizzy and fatigued and my throat kind of hurts. Is that what you want to hear?”

“Yes.” The word came unanimously from his parents' mouths.

“Your condition was serious enough to warrant over 24 hours in the hospital. It is not gonna go back to normal in a few days, just because you got discharged.” Marco continued, “That’s not gonna be something we're gonna take lightly and nor should you, no matter how stubborn you want to be about it. Your grandmother was like that though, so I guess the genes make sense. You really should go lie down and try to at least drink something every hour to keep the blood sugar up.”

“I’ll take him,” Nina said and pulled Gastón by the arm. “Come on.”

“Well, it is good to know that when he doesn’t want to listen to us, he listens to her.” Isla remarked.

“We better keep her on our side.” Marco wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

“It does do good to see him be so love struck. I stand by my statement. He has your eyes, the light is shining from them exactly the same way.”

“We both have a good reason for it.” He kissed her one her temple before sighing, “I have about ten thousand emails I need to respond to.”

“I’ll join you in a minute,” Isla responded, “We haven’t picked up the post in at least a week. We really need to transfer all the bills into online ones.”

***

“Yeah, I get to talk with them!!” Luna sat on her bed while talking to Simon. “I miss Mom and Dad so much.”

“That is great,” Simon responded. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine,” Luna rolled her eyes, “I mean I felt like coughing yesterday still, but now it feels like I am bursting with energy. I miss the rink.”

“Why not come today?” Simon suggested, “Since you’re not sick anymore. Juliana has us working late even if we’re not training.”

“I wanted to, but I’m not allowed,” Luna sighed, “I can come tomorrow for the training, but today I need to rest.”

“You’re being kept as a prisoner?” Simon’s tone changed.

“Not like that,” Luna laughed slightly, “but it’s not like I can sneak out. The gate keeps a record of who opens it, I think, or something like that. I guess, I’ll have to admit that they’re right, kind of, and Mom and Dad wouldn’t want me to overdo it either.”

***

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Simon hung up the phone and sat on the stage of Jam and Roller with his guitar.

“Was that Luna?” Jim and Yam walked to him.

“Yeah,” Simon nodded.

“How’s she doing?” Yam asked. “I still can’t believe the whole fire thing. School is starting back up on Tuesday.”

“We thought we’d ask Nina, but she’s not here is she?” Jim looked around, “I guess we could call Luna herself too. We’d go visit her, but we don’t know where she lives.”

“You wouldn't be able to get in even if you did,” Simon sighed, “There is a heavy-duty gate there.”

“Was that what you meant when you mentioned someone being kept a prisoner?” Yam asked, “...or was that about her parents. That is still an absolutely horrible situation for Luna. How can the world be so unjust?”

“Yeah, I don’t think I could survive that.” Jim leaned her head on Yam’s shoulder.

“Luna is strong,” Simon nodded, “She’s alright, that's what she said. But they aren’t letting her come to the rink. Apparently Gastón’s parents are quite protective.”

“Gastón’s parents? Protective?” Jim and Yam stared at him. “He has never seemed like he has strict parents. From what we have seen, he has gotten to do what he wants most part.”

“Yeah, and it’s not like making sure she’ll rest after getting stuck in a fire is super controlling.” Yam continued, “My mom wouldn’t let me come to rink if it had been me, and she’s a doctor.”

“Mine too,” Jim nodded, “I mean, that she would make me rest and that she’s a doctor. Twinsies.”

“Wait, do you know them too?” Simon asked, confused.

“No not personally like Matteo does or how Nina does now too,” Jim shook her head, “But we do know that they’re kind of a big deal, I guess everyone does. Apparently Isla and Marco Perida are considered quite a power couple in some circles.”

“I’ve maybe looked them up a few times,” Yam admitted, “Not for Gastón’s sake or anything—he’d probably hate for any special consideration—but because Isla has such a beautiful style.”

“I think we can all agree that none of us could have ever predicted that out of every crazy scenario that’s out there, Luna and Gastón would become siblings.” Jim laughed.

“They aren’t siblings.” Simon noted.

“Good as, though. Nina must be happy. She’s getting to have her best friend and boyfriend at the same house and basically as brother and sister.”

***

“Thanks for saving me.” Gastón said as Nina pulled the door to his room shut. “Mom and Dad, they just—”

“I didn’t save you from anything,” Nina crossed her arms and looked at him disapprovingly. “I agree with them.” She walked closer and took his face into her hands, “You look terrible. You need to lie down.”

“Okay,” Gastón nodded and sat on his bed. Truth be told, he was feeling quite a bit of drowsiness and fatigue. “Only if you come here.”

“You should actually try to rest.” Nina looked at him skeptically.

“I feel worse if you’re not next to me.”

Nina laughed slightly before lying next to him on the bed. She ran her hand on his right forearm, on top of the bandage. “Does this hurt?”

“A little bit.” He nodded slightly.

“Sorry, I’ll stop.”

“If I make it to the competition, I’ll need to wear long sleeves.” Gastón remarked. “We don’t want to scare the judges. I mean my face alone will be a sight, because there is no hope that the scar will disappear in two months' time.”

“You can always ask Jazmin to cover it up.” Nina suggested while tracing the stitches on his forehead. Gastón was right that it wasn't the prettiest sight, but it was not like she cared. He was good looking either way.

“I’ll probably have to do that, but I do hope that it fades,” Gastón sighed, “For Mom and Dad’s sake if no one else. I don’t want there to be a visual reminder of all of this that they need to see every day. I mean they’re already so freaked out.”

“Anyone would be, especially in their situation.” Nina ran her hand through his hair, “They can’t stand the thought of losing you.”

“I know,” Gastón nodded, “I mean the feeling is mutual, especially now, as we get along so well at the moment.”

“When have you not gotten along with your parents?” Nina asked.

“Never, honestly, at least like that,” He nodded, “We don’t have any drama. But like, I guess what I mean is that, now as they’ve been forced to work more from here and not been able to travel as much, they’re so much less stressed and not overcompensating all the time…and I like that they’re home.”

“Of course you do.”

“I might even believe that they could soon be recovering workaholics,” Gastón continued, “And…Luna’s situation is not ideal in the slightest, but Mom and Dad were never meant to be one and done parents. They absolutely didn’t want to be but were forced to. Now that they have someone else dividing and redirecting that energy, it is helping them immensely. It is not all directed at me, which is actually really nice, because it could get a little overwhelming.”

“Not just anyone would be able to look after a child not their own so naturally.” Nina noted, “Luna’s also easy to love, but it is admirable. My parents weren’t able to take care of one kid, their own, me, together. I guess the fact that they barely could stand each other factors into it heavily, but that’s like the opposite of your parents. They can’t keep their eyes off each other.”

“Like I can’t keep my eyes off you,” Gastón brushed some hair out of her face. “I guess it is a family trait.”

They lied in comfortable silence for a while.

“Are you cold?” Nina ran her hand on his forearm. “I can grab a blanket…”

“I’m okay. Don’t worry.” Gastón laughed slightly as Nina started getting up from the bed.

“I’m gonna soon respond the same way your dad did,” She shook her head. “I’m gonna worry, especially when you tell me not to.”

“Okay, okay,” Gastón relented, “I’m not okay, but the only one who can tell how I am feeling is me too. So, you need to believe me as well. I’m not cold and that would be a fever symptom.”

“I’m sorry,” Nina sat back down on the bed next to his head and ran her fingers through his hair, “I just… I don’t know what I would have done if something had happened to you. I love you and I’m gonna worry about you. I never thought this could even be possible.”

“You need to give yourself some credit. I’m the one who had to chase you down.” Gastón looked up at her. This wasn’t the first time the thought of how beautiful a ring would look on her finger had crossed his mind. He was turning 18 next week, so obviously it was an absolutely loco of a thought, but God, he loved her. There were no limits or rules on love, but he would need to tough it out for at least a few years, before making that dream a reality.

“Gastón?” Suddenly there was a knock on the door and his mother’s voice, “Can we come in?”

“Sure.” Gastón pushed himself up more in a sitting position as his parents came through the door.

“Don’t. You don’t need to get up.”

“I’m not on bed rest,” He shook his head, “I read the doctor's note too. Anyways, what is it?”

“This was in the post.” Isla handed Gastón an brown envelope that had the crest of the Pontifical Catholic University of Argentina printed on it. He had applied to a few universities in Buenos Aires during the fall after deciding that he didn’t want to go to Oxford. He had completely forgotten about that during all the mayhem and that responses would actually start coming at some point.

“These come in post?” He turned it in his hands.

“Apparently from UCA they do.” Marco responded. “It’s still pretty early for acceptance letters for most universities.”

“It could be a rejection,” Gastón shook his head, “Those are probably easy to pump out.”

“Stop that. You don’t know before you open it.” Nina placed her hands on his shoulders.

“Okay.” Gastón shook his head again and ripped the envelope open. The letter was a few pages long. On the top of the first page there was the crest of the university again. The actual text started below it…

We are pleased to extend you an official offer of admission to the Class of 2022 at Pontifical Catholic University of Argentina in the faculty of Exact Sciences and Engineering…

“I got in.”

“That’s amazing!” Nina hugged him tightly and kissed him on the cheek. Gastón clearly wasn’t satisfied with that as he turned his head and lifted her chin so he could softly kiss her on the lips. Nina forgot at that moment that they were literally in front of his parents, but she didn’t really care.

“We are so proud of you.” But they still were there. “Not exactly surprised, you are so smart. We always had that faith in you. UCA is a good school.”

“But it’s not Oxford.” Gastón rolled his eyes.

“I thought we already had this conversation?” Marco looked at him.

“I guess we did,” Gastón sighed. “Tell me something. Would you even let me go?”

“Honest answer?” Isla tightened her grip on Marco’s hand as they glanced at each other. “It is always going to be your choice, but with everything that has happened, it would be extremely hard for us if you were across the ocean.”

“Well, it is a good thing that I don’t want to go.”

***

Luna groaned as she stared at the exercise sheet. Her head was completely swimming, and all the numbers were just looking like blobs. She was never going to get this.

Blake was not going to let it slide, she was sure of it. Luna couldn’t even blame her concentration struggles on the effects of the fire, because it had happened over a month ago.

SHE JUST DIDN’T GET MATH. These stupid numbers were standing in between her and the Roda Fest, which was the only thing she wanted to focus on. Skating was the one thing that had stayed constant in her life, and she needed it more than ever right now.

Luna blew air out of her mouth and threw her pencil across the living room. Instead of landing on the floor it landed in a vase next to the TV.

“Ups.” Luna got up from the couch and started fishing the pencil out, careful not to disturb the giant and gorgeous bouquet of sunflowers.

Marco had brought them to Isla last Sunday. Apparently, it was some sort of tradition they had going on for over 20 years and had something to do with the first rays of the summer sun.

Well, Luna thought it was extremely romantic. Sunflowers had some sort of a special meaning for them, when it came to love. Luna didn’t know what, but she maybe should ask Nina.

Luna quickly realized that she didn’t even know how long Isla and Marco had been married. Gastón was 18 years old, so longer than that…but technically that wasn’t guaranteed.

Anyways. Luna got her pencil out of the water and sat back down on the couch.

Nope, the numbers had not started to make any sense in the meantime.

“¡Esto es imposible!” She wanted to pull her hair out.

“What is?”

“Oh sorry.” Luna spun her head around and saw Marco standing next to the piano. “I didn’t mean to yell. Did I interrupt something?”

“That’s not important.” He walked closer. “What’s going on?”

“I’m just trying to do my homework,” Luna shook her head. “And I don’t get it, which is gonna put me in danger of failing the year… Again.”

“Well, you clearly didn’t fail last year.” Marco had walked around the couch and was standing next to Luna now.

“I almost did.” Luna huffed, “I lost my final project on top of a van.”

“What?”

“Seriously,” Luna nodded, “I was in a hurry and placed my laptop on top of a van and when I turned around it was gone. I never got it back and had to write the whole thing again. I did pass, in the end.”

“Okay,” Marco looked a little confused as he sat next to her. “You might wanna keep your computer in your bag, so you avoid that.”

“I learned my lesson.”

“So, are these differential derivatives that you are having trouble with?” Marco looked at Luna’s math sheets.

“Yeah,” Luna leaned back on the couch.

“You are taught to use the formula?”

“I think so…” Luna leafed through her math book. “It’s the thing with the lime or was it limena…? I don’t know.”

“Limit. They are called limits.” Marco responded.

“Yeah, but I still don’t get it,” Luna shook her head, “Nina has tried to teach me in like a thousand different ways.”

“You know that I work in finance and economics?” Marco asked her.

“Yeah.”

“Well, derivatives, bounds, terraces in flow diagrams are all the baseline of my job. We use calculators nowadays, but we didn’t have those in the start of the 21st century.”

“I’d love a calculator.” Luna remarked, “So you probably know how to do these really well.”

“Yes, given I’ve made my whole career on them,” Marco nodded, “but I can tell you a secret. I don’t actually understand that formula either.”

“Then how do you do it then?” Luna asked, extremely confused now. If a professional didn’t know how to use the freaking formula that she was supposed to learn, then how was she supposed to do it?

“There is another way to do it in practice.” Marco explained, “The schools teach the formula, which is the academic and “proper” way to do it with proofs and literature and all, it really works for people who think very academically. You seem to think on your feet a lot, so a more practical approach might work. See, if you just look at this one: The x is to the fourth power, so if you derive it, you just take the power, so four and it becomes the coefficient, and the power gets reduced by one. So, this would become four times x to the power of three. Do you understand?”

“Maybe,” Luna looked at her paper again and took her pencil in her hand, “So, you just take the smaller number that is in the corner and put it in the front, and then just the upper one becomes smaller?”

Luna drew the new equation on the paper and looked at Marco who nodded.

“That is exactly how you can think that. That is correct what you just did there. The answer is exactly the same as it would be with the formula, just with fewer steps.”

“Can’t believe it,” Luna did another problem. “How can you just understand it like that? It’s so much more easier.”

“Isla actually likes to say that I make numbers look like art,” Marco smiled slightly, “I don’t personally understand that, but she’s usually right and I am not good at arguing with her. Has she done your hair again?”

“Oh yeah,” Luna nodded while running her hand on what Isla had called something along the lines of three-way four-strand dragon braid. “It’s really pretty.”

“She has a magical eye for beauty. Has that effect in everything she touches, at least for as long as I have known her.”

“How did you meet?” Luna asked. She was actually genuinely quite curious.

“University, 1996 to be exact.” Marco answered. “I majored in Economics and Business Administration, she did marketing. Both of our classes for the masters took place at the same campus, and part of her studies she had to complete a few photography courses that I was taking for fun. She needed some help with those and that's how our paths crossed. Two years later, we didn’t really celebrate our graduations, we got married. The saying that you meet the love of your life when you least expect it is actually very true. That is the bare bones of it, ask later when there is more time and the two of us. I don’t even know all of it. You should finish your homework.”

“Okay,” Luna turned back to her math problems and again to her surprise, actually managed to complete all of them, within 15 minutes.

She had to tell Nina, so she grabbed her phone and was about to text her when her phone screen froze.

“Ugh, not again.” Luna groaned and tapped the screen again, to somehow revive it.

“What?” Marco had been writing some email on his phone.

“This has nothing to do with math,” Luna shook her head, “My phone’s lagging. I don’t know why.”

“Can I see it?” Luna handed her phone to him. “How old is this?”

“Two years, I think.” Luna responded.

“Then it definitely shouldn't just randomly freeze.” Marco looked at the phone.

“I mean, I don’t know, but it has started doing that a lot recently. Almost like it has gotten worse.” Luna continued. “Out of nowhere.”

“My wild guess would be smoke damage.”

“Smoke damage?” Luna asked, confused. “How does that work?”

“Smoke particles can clog internal components of electronics.” Marco went to grab a tablet from a shelf in the living room. “It very well could be it, given the fire and that the issue has just gotten progressively worse. What model is that?”

“I don’t know.” Luna shook her head.

“Okay,” The phone had stopped freezing, so Marco opened some sort of tab on it, “Galaxy J2. It’s an Android so you probably don’t want to change that. They probably don’t make that size anymore.” He took his own phone out and handed it to Luna, “Hold this. Is this sort of a size too big for you.”

“Yeah,” Luna held the phone, a little bit confused about what was going on. “My fingers can’t even reach the buttons. What are you doing?”

“Well, you can't have a malfunctioning phone. It is only gonna get worse.” Marco took his phone back from Luna, while typing something on the tablet. “Okay, this is the Note 8, which is a tad bit bigger than what you have now.”

“I’m going to Matteo’s. Don’t wait on me for dinner.” Gastón walked down the stairs at that moment.

“Wait, Gastón,” Marco stopped him. “Does your phone work?”

“Not a random question at all, Dad,” Gastón looked at them, “but now that you mention it, it has been kind of lagging. I should probably boot the hard drive or something—”

“You should have said. If both of yours are doing the same thing, then it definitely is smoke damage.” Marco noted.

“Smoke damage?” Gastón scrunched his eyebrows. “Okay, that would actually make sense.”

“Order a new one. Today.” Marco told him. “Get an X at least, but get in a delivery today, so it comes tomorrow at the latest.”

“Okay.” Gastón nodded and walked out of the door.

“Wait, is that what you're doing?” Luna asked as Marco had turned back to his tablet, “Getting me a new phone?”

“I can repeat myself. You can’t have one that doesn’t work. That is dangerous. So would this be okay?” He showed Luna a model on the tablet.

“Uh, sure.” Luna responded. She knew nothing about phone models and things were happening fast. Luna never realized that buying phones was this easy of a process…or it was with people with money.

The more comfortable Luna got with the whole situation, the more she kept forgetting that Isla and Marco in fact were millionaires and on top of their game with their careers. Luna had been expecting at the start that they’d hire replacements for Mom and Dad, but that had not happened. No one seemed to be bothered one bit that they didn’t have staff anymore.

“Good.” Marco nodded, “So it is the Note 8. You can look for some cases for it yourself, because you probably know better what you want on that front. You’ll get it tomorrow. Your old one will hopefully work for another 12 hours.”

“Okay,” Luna nodded. “Thank you—”

Isla walked out of the hallway to the living room, looking really annoyed.

“What’s wrong?” Marco turned his attention to her at once.

“The call I had with CICSA was supposed to last maybe an hour. A very simple job, but they are apparently determined to make it as difficult as possible.”

“Surely nothing you can’t handle.” He responded to her with a very affectionate tone.

“No, but they’re really pushing it.” Isla shook her head. She wrapped her arms around her husband’s neck and buried her face on his shoulder for a moment. “The contract has to now go through some other administrator branch, which is completely unnecessary. They are just messing things up and making it a hundred times more complicated. Who knows how long this will take now. Threw all of my plans out of order for today, because I very well couldn’t tell them that the call needed to be finished because I was late for my hair appointment. There would have gone all of my professional reputation down the train, but it was very tempting.”

“They don’t know what’s coming for them if they don’t start to be cooperate.”

“They definitely don’t,” Isla laughed, “I got a message out to Larol that I need to delay that appointment. It was possible, because I’m not getting dye or anything, just a cut. I do need to be careful, because anything close to shoulder length makes me look—”

“You don’t look old.”

“And you’re biased. Anyway, what were you talking about here?”

“It looks like their phones have suffered some smoke damage, effects of which are only coming apparent now.” Marco explained.

“Really?” Isla raised her head, concerned look in her face. “Good thing you caught that, before they leave for Cancun and everything.”

“It is,” They turned to look at Luna, who had been gathering her math papers. “Remember, if you need something, you can say it.”

“Yeah, I’ll keep that in mind.” She nodded.

“Speaking off, before your trip and everything, do you want any clothes?” Isla asked.

“Uh, I am not sure.” Luna shook her head. That was not something she had ever thought of.

“Think about it. It’s better to handle those things now than in two weeks' time when you're literally leaving and busy with that.”

“I guess,” Luna shrugged, “but I am terrible at shopping.”

“You want help?” Isla looked at the clock on the wall, “I’m just leaving for my hair appointment which won’t take long, so how about you come with me, and we’ll get some clothes for you afterwards.”

“Uhm, sure.” Luna responded. “Why not?”

“If you’re all ready to go, we can leave now.”

“Okay.” Luna got up from the couch.

“I honestly don’t really believe that anyone can be “good” or “bad” at shopping.” Isla said as Luna followed her to the garage. “It is not like it’s an art or a competition. Everyone has a different eye, but in the end they’re just clothes.”

“Maybe, but I’ve gotten a bunch of weird looks on how I dress.” Luna remarked.

“I think the way you dress is adorable,” Isla said as she pressed the car key and lights flickered on the car at the far left, the light blue car.

Luna had never ridden on that before, Gastón drove that black one when they went to school. When Luna had been driven to the prison and stuff it had usually been the dark blue car, which Marco was often driving even if Isla was with them. Obviously, she knew how to drive too. She was an adult after all.

“It is always nice to see color in kids your age. Some try to dress way too grown up. I used to be a talented drifter when I was younger and we had no money to go around, but some of those choices were a bit questionable. That was also the 80s and 90s, so everything was a tad bit questionable. The only thing I can truly not question that came from the 90s was my choice of husband.”

***

“Uno, dos, tres, cuatro, cinco, seis, siete, ocho.” Juliana counted out steps while standing on the side of the rink, “Around, together, lift and stop.”

The team of Jam and Roller took the final pose on their choreography.

“Okay, well done everyone!” Julina nodded her head in approval, “I have to say, I wasn’t 100 % sure we would be able to pull this off. Some of the reasons obviously haven’t been your fault, so I won’t say another word about those. I am glad that everyone is okay. but right now I an say that, I think we are truly ready for the Roda Fest.”

Gastón was standing next to Matteo, who lightly patted his back as Juliana spoke. He had managed to get back into practice after a few weeks, and his arm had healed so no lifts had needed to be cut, although it had required a few extra training sessions into some late hours. Delfi, surprisingly, had been extremely patient with it, which was surprising in itself. Miracles could truly happen, and Pedro clearly was having a good influence on that. Anyways, they were in great shape now and ready to take Cancun by storm.

“Okay, I’ll see you all here tomorrow at 8:00 am sharp. So, everyone will be here on time, with all of your personal documents, luggage and NO ONE WILL BE LATE. If you are, you’ll be left behind.” Juliana eyed everyone in the team. “And please have your passports in order. Once we get to the airport, we are going to be in a time crunch. At Cancun we have a strict schedule.”

“Oh, you’d think we are joining the army.” Ramiro joked, “We are gonna kick some Slider butt, but can’t we also have fun?”

“There is time for that, but we need to take this seriously,” Juliana gave him a death glare. “Now, all of you need to go home and pack. Make sure that your skates are in your carry on. You cannot lose them, because there is no magical Skate Machine that will make you new skates.”

“Yes sir!” Simon made a mock salute.

“I will ignore that for now,” Juliana smiled slightly. “Go to sleep early. See you tomorrow.”

“Wait, guys, before you go. Come here.” Luna stopped everyone, “Do you guys understand? We are seriously gonna be going to the finale at Roda Fest!!! We’ve been through a lot as a team, and we have made it. It’s finally here!!”

“Bring it in here!” Ramiro threw his hand into the center of the circle, “We are gonna go, and we’re gonna show everyone, and we are gonna win.”

“FOR JAM AND ROLLER!!!” The team joined hands and threw them to the sky.

***

“Luna, how many different neon tops are you planning on taking?” Nina sat on Luna's bed while she was throwing clothes on the floor.

“I don’t know,” Luna shook her head. “All of them.”

“We’ll be there for two weeks, not moving permanently.” Nina noted. “Hey look, I’ll teach you a technique that Mom taught me. Count the days we’ll be away and pick an outfit for each one. Then divide the days by three and take that number of extra outfits. So, you need about 18 different outfits.”

“That is a lot,” Luna blobbed to sit down on the floor, “Hey, you sure you have time to help me with this? Won’t Gastón miss you?”

“I think he’ll survive if I help you for an hour,” Nina laughed, “It is all so much easier now that I can let myself in, almost like I am part of the family.”

“I mean you are,” Luna remarked, “I think everyone agrees here on that.”

“Hopefully someday officially.” Nina smiled as she looked down at a pile of Luna’s clothes. “What’s this one?” She held up a white skirt with a bunch of colorful flowers.

“Oh, Isla bought that for me,” Luna responded, “It’s really pretty.”

“It is.” Nina nodded, “If it was her, then I am not surprised. She has amazing taste.”

“Hey girls,” Isla walked into the room, “Everything okay here?”

“Yeah, we’re just packing,” Luna turned around from her closet, “Or trying…”

“I can see that.” Isla looked at all of the clothes on the floor. “You have everything else clear for the trip?”

“We’re taking the bus from Roller in the morning to the airport and flying to Cancun from there on a flight that departs at 10:25 am.” Nina read off her tablet.

“It is good that we can always trust you to be on top of things, Nina.” Isla smiled at her. “Are you staying for dinner, or do you need to go pack your own things?”

“I packed yesterday actually,” Nina explained, “Mom would nag at me all the time, if I hadn’t.”

“That sounds like Ana.” Isla nodded, “Okay, the reason why I actually came here was this.”

She handed Luna a plastic folder.

“What is it?” Luna asked, confused, “I already made sure 1000 times that I have my passport.” She pointed to her nightstand, where she had marked an area with her beads to hold that passport.

“More of a precaution,” Isla explained. “One of our friends is a social worker, so he gave us a few pointers on what we should be aware of as we are looking after you. It’s just a letter of consent that Marco and I signed that you are allowed to travel outside of the country without a guardian as a minor. It shouldn't be necessary as you aren’t in foster care and the custody agreement Alexei drew up is ironclad. It is just in case you run into some sort of issue.”

“Thanks.” Luna nodded.

“Are you excited to go?”

“Yeah of course I am!” Luna jumped up in the air. “I miss Mexico so much!”

“It is a good thing you have things to look forward to.” Isla smiled, “Well, I’ll leave you girls to it.”

“I haven’t really mentioned this, but it is really great how well you really get along,” Nina pointed out after Isla had gone.

“I mean yeah,” Luna smiled, “They’re really nice, you were right about that when you first told me and I was all freaked out.”

“They are.” Nina nodded.

“You know, it’s kind of weird that they don’t have more kids,” Luna pondered out loud while folding a shirt into the suitcase. “Because they’re really good at this.”

“You don’t know?” Nina dropped the socks she was rolling and looked at Luna.

“Know what?” Luna questioned.

“Isla and Marco can’t have children.” Nina said, looking at Luna.

“Wait what?” Luna looked even more confused now, “How does that even make sense? Gastón’s not adopted, is he? He’s—”

“He looks exactly like his father, and the golden streak in his eyes is from his mother. He also has the best qualities from both of them. Of course he is not.” Nina shook her head, “That’s not what I meant. I said it badly.”

“Then what did you mean?” Luna looked still extremely confused. “So, they had a kid and then couldn’t anymore?”

“When Gastón was one or so, Isla had some sort of serious medical complication. That was when they still lived in Cordoba. She had to have a hysterectomy, or she could have died.”

“Wow, that’s awful.” Luna sat on the bed. “How do you know this?”

“They told me.” Nina said simply, “I don’t think it’s a secret and they seem to have made peace with it, but it must have been devastating at the time. They were 24. One of the reasons that fueled their ambition to get where they are today and give Gastón a much better life. It’s not exactly a topic to be had over dinner or something so it probably just hasn’t come up.”

“I can’t even imagine going through something like that,” Luna sat back on the floor while sorting her suitcase, “I mean, it kind of sounds like Mom and Dad. They weren’t able to have kids, but then they adopted me. They left everything behind too, to give me a better education, even if it was after Senora Sharon.”

“That’s probably why you get along so well.” Nina noted.

{}

Well, look at that. We are back, because I write what I want whever I want. Not a lot of actually happened in this part (I had to split it because it was getting so long), but sometimes I nice to just breathe for a moment. Last part literally had a fire, so we dealt with the last of that aftermath and did some character interraction develobment. More often that not in the media, the Dad is often left as the least develobed charcter with least amouth of charcter building and interractions...We'll not in my house. Dads are important, even if the child is a girl. Also Luna learned some math in the process, and that was actually how I was tuagh to do deritaves, intead of the weird formula. Also, golden retriever husband energy, because Gastón absolutely has that in his gene pool. The way I determine is that he got his sentiviness, calming precese and artistic traits from his dad, while the headstrongness, sociability and chamingess from his mom. Something I live by while writing is that: normalize married couples being in love and acting accordingly, no matter how old (40 also isn't old in the slightest). Small public service anoucements here: I ahve actually written some original material about Isla and Marco specifically. Littel bit a stuff when they were 20, those afformentioned uni years. I am not gonna release that at that moment, because it is in my native language and because I've submited it into couple writing competitions. I'll uptate you on if some judge board declares that I am actually a good writer. Okay, next... Simon...We will talk about him little later, shall we. On the next part. We are going somewhere with this, I promise. Finally, again I am trying portray here that Luna is progressively getting more comfortable with the situation, that she's not the staff's daughter anymore, but basically family member. She's casually hanging in the living room while doing her homework and she doesn't call Isla and Marco "Gastón's parents" anymore.

#Soy Luna #soy luna fanfiction #Gastina #Lutteo #Soy Luna Season 2 #Gastteo #Au #Twist #This was just a stupid idea #But I am rolling with it #And having fun #and it's getting unhinged #because it has a plot now

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brighter-by-the-daly · 1 year

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Rachel Daly x Millie Bright x Reader

Part Five - So Far Removed

Posted:28/04/23, Edited: 26/09/23

The door to the plane tunnel closed as you soaked in the last glimpse of your girlfriend from the other side. Your heart sunk a little as the reality set in, you’d taken the piss out of Rachel the whole journey now here you are moping yourself. The hands of Millie landing on your shoulders suddenly jolting you out of the impending funk “come on bestie! We’re gonna have so much fun!” linking her arm in yours and trotting towards the plane. As you neared the door Chelsea’s social media person was there filming the players file onto the plane “sorry can you get out the shot so we can just get Bright?” Dropping the link between you but Millie immediately stopped your arm from leaving hers as soon as she felt your grip loosen. “Err, no if you want me you gotta get my best friend too!” the captain remarked as she shuffled you onto the plane without giving it a second thought. Your mouth dropped wide open at the sight of what was inside the metal shell, earning yourself an elbow to the ribs. “What, you never seen a private plane before?” Millie smirked “mate, I’ve never had extra leg room before, let alone a private jet!” you exclaimed as she showed you to your seat next to hers. “So this is a taster for the World Cup is it?” you said pressing all the buttons and playing with everything like a child. “Oh the England jet is sooo much better! This is nothing!” Millie nonchalantly announced. “THIS is nothing to you?! Oh to be a footballer!” you scoffed and rolled your eyes as you flopped into your chair, immediately kicking the recliner back. “The last time I was on a plane someone screamed at me for putting my chair back! That was barely an inch!” leaning back fully until your chair was practically flat. “You’re cute” Millie gushed at your naïveté, “you’re spoilt!” you hit back at her remarks. Your reality and hers so far apart you were practically on different planets as you gawped at the plane staff putting your bags in the locker for you. “Smile!” she shouted as she shoved her phone in your face - ‘honorary team member’ she posted.

Falling asleep almost immediately you were woken almost an hour later by Millie prodding you “hey, I didn’t get you on this plane to sleep!” poking you repeatedly until you sat up. “We got TikToks to make.. Oh, and Rach text you” she said still as loud and bouncy as ever. Asking how you’d received texts as you’re still in the air she said she’d taken the liberty of logging you onto the complimentary WiFi. You stared at her unbelievably, this is how the other half lives aih? You asked what she had lined up for you, she spoke about a few ideas and before you knew it you were at the back of the plane learning dances. It must be exhausting being her team mate, she just does not stop - even with a dodgy knee!

Another hour passed when you landed in Barcelona, stepping out of the plane the hot air hit you like a brick wall, quickly pulling your jumper off and letting the sun rays soak you up. This is exactly what you needed after a long, harsh English winter - you couldn’t wait to plop your bikini cad arse on a sun lounger!

After checking in to your hotel room you threw your suitcase onto the bed, immediately rummaging through everything to unpack. Finding your new bikinis and putting one on before flopping onto the bed to FaceTime Rach to let her know you had arrived safely. The call didn’t last long as she started acting jealous again, hanging up with love and jokes so she knew you loved her but enjoyed the luxury of being able to switch her off this time. Grabbing your towel and lotion you wasted no time getting straight to the pool, finding a perfect lounger to station yourself at to get lost in your book. Finishing a few chapters when someone blocked the sunlight to your body, looking over your sunglasses to see that Millie had found you - there goes the peace and quiet! Cocktails in hand she parked herself on the lounger next to you, she talked about how the Man City girls are out here too and asked if we wanted to go out with them tonight. Of course you were up for this and started planning what outfit to wear in your head. Surprisingly enough, Millie had also bought a book with her and laid with you to read a few more chapters while getting a good start on your tan.

Before heading back to you grabbed a bite to eat together then shuffled back to your room to shower and wash your hair. Running to Millie’s room still in your towel to sit on the balcony and dry off together, eating and pre drinking your way into the evening. When you were nicely tipsy you bought all your things to her room to get ready together - the music was loud, the drinks were flowing and before you knew it it was time to go. Stepping out of the bathroom after getting changed you could feel your friend’s eye on you “god (y/l/n), you have no business looking that hot!” Trying to disguise the smile that was etched on your face as you weren’t expecting those words to leave her mouth, “not bad yourself Brighty!” you tried to play it off. Rach had already said that if it feels right go for it but to tell her everything after, so you weren’t completely off the table to each other while you were away. Snapping a few photos and sending them to Rach before heading into town to meet Ellie, Alex, Chloe and Demi in a karaoke bar. Later that evening Lucy and Keira made an appearance too.

Part Six - FWB 🔞

#rachel daly #millie bright #lionesses #rachel daly x reader #woso masterlist #woso x reader #millie bright x reader

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sumi137 · 1 year

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-The ripper in the water -

Namor x water bender oc

(This is my first writing so it may not be good)

Warnings: cursing

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I wake up to the of my door opening" wake up your sleepy ass" nekio said. I pull my blanket over my head and groan. Nekio wakes over to my bed and pulls my blanket off my body, I try and grab it but I couldn't reach it. " come on Katara if you don't wake up we aren't going to the cafe for breakfast" she said in a motherly tone. After hearing that I get up and sit at the edge of my bed. "Ich bin wach ( I'm awake)" I say while yawning. Nekio looks at me with a mad look " really talk in English" . " I awake Hündin( bitch)" I say getting up to grab my clothes. Nekio walks up behind me and slaps the back of my head " don't call me bitch" . I rub the back of my head where she slapped me " I sorry I shouldn't of called u a female dog" I say while grabbing some clothes. I grabbed a green crop top and a black skirt. I turn and look at my roommate " can you get out so I can changed pls" . Nekio rolls her eyes and makes her way out my room " just be quick I don't want to be late". She says while closing my door. After getting a shower and getting ready I wake to the living room. I see nekio sitting on the couch "you coming" I said grabbing my keys off the wall. Nekio got up and made her way to the door. We made our way out our apartment and started to walk to the cafe. When we got there we sat by the window. A server came over and asked what we would like. " I will just have a tea" nekio said to the server. I looked over at the server " I just take coffee" I said looking back at the city outside the window. " okay I be right back with your drinks" the server then made her way back to the kitchen. " so what are you doing today, going to the beach again", with nekio say that made my head turn to face her " I may shop a bit then go to the beach and read for a bit " I say turning my head back to the window. Nekio just shakes her head. After a few minutes the server comes back with our drinks" here you guys go and if there is anything else I can get you guys today" the server said putting a note pad out her pocket. " I think we're good" nekio says to her and with that the server left. I grabbed my coffee and pulled out. U phone and started to scroll through some old photos. After scrolling for a bit I get a text from Shuri. I open the text and read it in my head ' hey Katara in a few days is T'Challa's birthday day and I was wondering if you are able to come help me pick out a gift for him', I text her back saying ' sure but I can't come today I will come tomorrow so if you want just stop by tomorrow morning okay'. I finish my coffee and set down my cup I look over a nekio and she was still drinking her tea" I'm going to head home to grab my bag them. I'm going to go shopping for a bit then head the beach to practice my bending" , nekio lifted her head " okay just be back before 1:00 a clock in the morning like last time" she gives me a calm look and went back to sipping her tea. I get up and make my way to my apartment. When I get inside I head to my room and go into my closest and pick out a swim suit and a see through skirts. I ended up picking out a blue swim suit and a white skirt. I head into my bathroom and changed into it and put my clothes over it and by then it's already 11:30. I start to make my way out but then I remember to grab my bracelets my mother gave me and put them on. Now can leave my apartment and make my way to the store to get something to eat for later. After walking for a few minutes I get to the store and I go to the sandwiches and grab a meat wrap. At the check out I grab a monster to drink, I pay for my things and head to the beach. When I was about a block away I stopped at a recorded store. I went in and picked out some new records to play later. After the recorded store I finish my walk to the beach. Once I was there the sun was already setting. I took my clothes off she is wearing her swimsuit and put on my white see through skirt. After setting them in my bag I walk towards the water and put my feet in it. I began to bend the water around me.

After some time I got out and walked back to my bag and when I was about to grab my sandwich I heard someone walking out the water. I turn around to see a man but he didn't look human he had pointed ears and had wing on his feet. To be honest he look really hot but still I need to know who this is. " who are you"I say breaking the silence between me an this strange man. " I shouldbe the one to ask you that question" he said a dull tone I take another good look at him. He steps a bit closer to me. I see him take a good look at me "Bix ta meentaj ( how did you do that)" sorry if my yucatec Maya is bad or wrong

I look at him with a confused/ surprised look " Xan a t'aan maaya yucateco ( you speak yucatec Maya too)" , after saying that the man gave me a surprised look. " you still didn't answer my question how did you do that" he said in a more curious tone " I can bend water thats how I did it" I say while grabbing my sandwich out my bag. The man stepped closer" bend water? What do you mean by that" the strange man said, I turn around and looked at him "I hav the ability to control water but that's all I'm saying because I don't even know your name" I say moving towards a rock near by and I sat down. " my people call me K'uk'ulkan but my enemies call me Namor, now what is your name strange girl ". I take a second to realize what he said, that means he's the serpent God wow I didn't think a god would be interested in me especially a hot one. " my name is Katara" I say with a simile on my face. " Katara well are you lindo ( cute)" I look at him with my mouth open a little. After a few seconds I look at him and say "Ich wusste nicht, dass dieses Meer einen heißen Gott in sich trägt(I didn't know that this sea had a hot God in them)" I say getting off the rock and grabbing my bag. Namor looked at me not knowing what I said but I think he can guess by the way I said it. I turn around and look at namor " well this I my time to go but we will meet again soon K'uk'ulkan" I say this while making my way away from him. " till we meet again Katara" he said this while heading back to the water. After he left I start to make my way back home but just then I remember I have to get T'Challa a gift for his birthday. I think to myself ' shit I just had to forget, well let me to get one before morning'.

To be continued ....

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I didn't expect this to be bothfun and hard at the same time. I hope this turns out good. I'll make th next part will probably be out tomorrow but who knows I have school. ;)

I will make a side story for Katara's and Nekio's backstories.

#namor #water bending #my ocs #namor x oc #namor x reader

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neurotheascars · 9 months

Note

Re: the post about bullying people on misspellings and reading comprehension and such.

no real, I’m the person people talk about when they say dyslexia

(I have all the other ones too, dysgraphia, dyscalclia, dyspraxia too)

And so my reading comprehension and also spelling is kinda trash, not in a bad faith way but in a “I genuinely completely missed like a whole paragraph” way.

which just sucks, I’m still extremely new to the whole “writing” thing.

genuinely if you saw something from a couple years ago vs now you’d be flabbergasted at how much we’ve improved.

but I always thought it was extremely rude to bully and or be mean about people who don’t understand or read things right or write things right.

you just genuinely do not know who they are and why they do it, whenever I try to correct someone I say it kindly and give constructive feedback.

Like genuinely it’s not hard to be kind, some people are still learning, sometimes it’s someone’s second language, sometimes they use speech to text and text to speech.

it’s just such a deeply ingrained belief that anyone who misspells or misspeaks or misunderstands is dumb or stupid.

I can’t even count on my fingers how many times I’ve misheard, worded something trash, or misunderstood or misinterpreted something.

but that’s just how I am and I can’t change it, but I can change my reaction and outcome and make friendships even after fucking up.

it’s just a sad feeling that even if you have the best intentions you still fail horribly, subtext and tone are hard to parse through, so much meaning and context gets a bit screwy when you write it down.

and sometimes life is filled with mistakes and failures and there’s nothing wrong with that, I can’t know everything and I probably never will.

I love the quote

“a jack of all trades is a master of none, but oftentimes better than a master of one.”

because yeah, I’ll never be a master at English or talking or anything.

but I can be a jack of all trades, I can try to learn and be better.

more skills even though I’m not a master at any, helps so much.

We beat ourselves up and others for things we can’t control rather than lift ourselves and others up.

that’s just my thoughts on it, I just didn’t want to add it on the main post it’s pretty unrelated to the original lol.

-pop

You are so very nice to write all this pop. Sorry I take a bit to respond. The system has been super busy.

The "trouble" that I mentioned in the tags that I got into was when I said I unfollowed someone for being rude about reading comprehension and had a complete stranger come out of nowhere and correct me like I was talking about them when I wasn't and then when I said I wasn't and was frustrated that people apparently do this enough to assume unrelated call outs about it are vagues about them, they acted like I was "rude" and like...

I'm an alter that has slammed doors hard enough to crack walls. I've said such utterly fucked things. I am trying my hardest, my best, to be nice when I'm upset. I have come so far and it hurts. I use all my energy when I do it. Tumblr is almost like a kind of language thinking therapy for me. It's a good place to practice being as polite as I can, because it's safer to fail online as opposed to IRL, where backspace and walk away are not options.

To try as hard as I did and still be called rude is... Ugh. It's just awful. Especially when it was an otherwise cool blog that said that about me. They even said on their blog separately if another alter apologized on my behalf that they'd be friends with them and just avoid me.

And that's actually trauma for me! That kind of thing seriously destabilizes my system. I've had people literally abuse my system by manipulating us like that and talking about me, calling me an asshole like I can't hear. But I get that that's just a mistake too.

It's all mistakes!

I think the world would be a better place if more mistakes were seen as harmless.

Also I vibe with the jack of all trades bit. We definitely as a system feel that.

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un-chained-a · 1 year

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WHAT NOT TO DO WHEN INTERACTING WITH MY BLOG - Customizable Edition

BASICS !

Name / Alias: Ti

Pronouns: Any is fine with me. But default is they/them

Type of muses: canon | OCs | both | other (specify)

GENERALITIES !

Triggers people MUST tag: nsfw. Animal abuse. Child abuse. Chain mail/messages.

Interest tracker / checker: I have it and it's mandatory | I have it, it's not mandatory but I'm more likely to follow back / interact with the people who fill it | I have one and I prefer it if people fill it in | I have it but it's to people whether to fill it or not | I don't have one | other (specify)

3-5 ESSENTIAL RULES PEOPLE HAVE TO RESPECT

I can be slow on threads. My muse leads me to what they wanna reply to. Sometimes a thread has more of my attention and muse than others. I also work a job and have other hobbies. I won't always be here.

Please tag your NSFW, especially if it's an image. Please no fancy tags, just tag it simple nsfw or something easy. Having fancy ways to tag something that I CANNOT black list it, might get you unfollowed.

Do not send hate of any kind or spread hate of any kind. This can be with call outs, or reblogging things of 'every time this gets reblogged *insert person* dies.' It will get you unfollowed.

3-5 IMPORTANT PET PEEVES TO KEEP IN MIND

People who CONSTANTLY pester me for threads or telling me they replied (I am okay of course if I give you PERMISSION to tell me when you reply. I have one person I asked to tell me when they reply cuz their replies don't always show up on my blog.) I am fine if you ask me about a thread once in a while, but doing it every day or really constant will get you blocked.

Really bad grammar.. I don't mind mistakes, I make mistakes too in my writing. But if it's constant, I'm sorry I can't do it. It bothers me too much. I am WAY more lenient to people who's first language isn't English, but tbh, those people have WAY better grammar than people who is first language.

People who take art as icons and cannot say where they got them from (giving the artist credit.) I'm not saying you have to have a BIG ASS list on your blog of all the credit. But it someone asks who made your icon, please be able to tell the person the artist. Please be able to credit artists some how if asked. (The icons I didn't make I can say who made them when asked on Shigaraki.)

2-5 THINGS THAT WILL LEAD TO INSTANT (SOFT) HARD BLOCKING

I changed it to hard blocking. I do NOT soft block. I either unfollow or hard block. Unfollow = We can still RP together, it's just that your content on your blog bothers me. Hard block = I will no longer talk / RP with you.

Reblogging call outs. I want no drama on my dash, including call outs. Talk it out like adults instead of spreading rumors and bull shit. All y'all claim to be adults but you certainly don't act like it. I've seen my friends called out and everyone blocks them without asking for THEIR side of the story. So yeah, I want none of that on my dash or in general ANY drama. I admit if it's a few times you post drama, I am okay, I get you may need to vent. But if it's a constant thing, I'll hard block.

As stated above, really bad grammar and sentence structure. I cannot read run on sentences. It gives me a head ache. The same with GIANT blocks of texts-- no paragraphs just a big wall. I don't like that either.

People I just don't vibe with. If you give me bad vibes, I'll block you.

People who soft block me or block me, I will block in return.

2-5 THINGS THAT LEAD ME TO UNFOLLOW / SOFTBLOCK A MUTUAL / SOMEONE I INTERACT WITH

This kinda goes with the above mentioned...

People who post really long posts that are NOT RP. Like that color of the sky post. I hate it. Posting long posts that take me a few scrolls to get by might get you unfollowed.

Posting politics.

2-5 REASON YOU DON'T FOLLOW (BACK) SOMEONE

You are a personal blog or all it seems you post is musings and ooc. If I see NO RPs from you, I won't follow. I will also unfollow if I see no RP content from you. That being said, SOME personal blogs I DO follow, esp if they're a friend.

You are a bot / p0rn blog.

I just happened to miss you. It happens. If you RP I usually follow back. And if I don't follow you-- Just RP with me and I probably will notice I am not following you and follow. MY BLOG IS NOT MUTUALS ONLY.

tagged by: I yoinked Tagging: YOU

#long post #dash game

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lyricc0900 · 1 year

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Chapter 8

Sol POV

Staring at me, I walk over to him, sharing a warm smile, "I bet you didn't expect to see me here."

"Sol?"

"In the flesh."

Standing in front of him, I look up at him feeling a bit small in his gaze. "What are you doing here?"

"To see you, we've been talking so much I asked Thor if I could visit you. I had to meet Odin and your mother too, but they said I could come."

Wanting to pull him into a hug, I refrain myself from doing so, not wanting him to feel uncomfortable. Seeing a long seat behind him, I sit down, watching as he follows my movements, "Well, don't just stand here, come sit."

Sitting beside me, my smile never leaves, as if I was right back in my bedroom; we talk for hours on end. While nothing much happens in his daily life, he shows me the books he reads about different tales and words beyond the stars.

Looking through the books, I can't help but frown a bit, "Aw, I can't read it."

Taking the book from my hand, I look over at him curiously, looking at the page he begins to read from the elegant text. Looking up at him as he reads, my cheeks heat up. The way the words roll off his tongue, how his voice picks up every syllable and phrase. Melting, I place my head on his shoulder, looking at the words as he goes.

Hours go by as he finishes the thin book; looking up at him, I begin to realize how close we are. Scooting back quickly, I look away, feeling flushed. "Sorry..."

"In the library, there are some books on magic and a translator; you can practice if you want."

Looking at him excitingly, I jump up, "Really! Thank you for telling me."

Smiling at him, I walk to the clear wall, "I'll be staying for a couple of days. I'll make sure to stop by tomorrow."

He smiles a bit and nods, leaving him; I can't help but feel a bit sad. Brushing it off, I make my way to the hallway. Seeing that Thor is nowhere to be found, I turn to a guard. "Excuse me, do you know where the library is?"

Looking down at me, with stone-cold eyes, he speaks up, "Go down the hall, make two lefts, and you'll be there."

I smile at him, "Thank you."

Following his instructions, I find myself in front of two large doors. Entering, I smile in delight at the large library; it's truly a dream come true. Looking through the library, I see a golden podium. Looking at the text on it, I watch as it molds into English.

"Now I need to find the books on magic."

Hearing some soft whispers, following it I find myself in front of a giant bookshelf. Hearing the whispers coming to an end, I smile, "Thank You."

Picking up some books, I stack them on the podium. Watching as the books glow, the title molds into English, making me smile. "History of magic."

Picking up the stack of books, I start my reading binge. Stacking book on book, I practice, learning what I can with the magic I hold. Feeling my eyes grow heavy, I lean back on the soft couch. Feeling my eyes fall slowly, I let the darkness consume me.

Dream

"When you come into this world, I have so much to show you."

I look around to find myself surrounded by a dark warmth. Hearing a soft, caring voice, I look up at the soft light that shined down on me. "Like the beach hidden by the rocks, I always found the prettiest shells there. Or the field that rests a bit north, the flowers that would bloom there are always so beautiful."

Feeling the love in her voice, I start to cry quietly. "My sweet child, this world holds so much hate for us. We may part but just remember you're never alone. Those that reside in the sky will always be there, to watch over you and guide you."

Hearing whispers, I look around to find myself surrounded, the darkroom, lights up, feeling the warmth spread through my body. Seeing a man and woman stand before me, staring in their light, my eyes begin to burn, the whispers grow louder. Finally, closing my eyes, I hear the soft, soothing voice again.

"My sweet child."

Dream Over

Opening my eyes slowly; I feel the sun hit my face. Sitting up, I find myself back in my bedroom. In a nightgown, I smile, "I guess Eria changed my clothes; I must thank her when I see her again."

Hearing a knock on the door, I smile.

"Good morning, Lady Sol."

"Good morning, Eria. Are you the one who changed my clothes?"

"Yes, but Prince Thor brought you to your room."

"Thank you."

She smiles at me and nods, helping me get ready I chat with her. Getting to know her better, I feel at peace, but my mind wanders to Loki. Leading me to the dining room, I sit next to Thor, having breakfast with his family. I listen to the tale Thor and his mother share.

After breakfast, I get pulled away by Thor, eager for me to meet his friends. Looking at the senary, I smile, Asgard seems warm, and the sky feels like it's always bright. Making it to a sparing center, I see four people ahead; Thor speaks up, graining their attention.

"Friends!"

Crowding around him, he pushes me forward, keeping his hand on my shoulder. "My friends, this is Lady Sol; she is one of Earth's mightiest heroes. Lady Sol, this is Sif, Fandral, Hogun, and Volstagg."

"It's nice to meet you!"

Giving their greetings, I find little to talk to them about. But seeing the weapons not too far, I smile.

"Would one of you like to spar with me?"

They look at me and laugh; Fandral walks over to me, "How will you fight with such thin arms."

I cross my arms, "Well, I can use magic, but I don't think that's fair. So I'll fight with a sword; there is a first time for everything."

Looking at them, my eyes land on Sif, "You seem like the strongest; may I spare with you?"

Sif smiles, "I like you, let's fight."

Chapter 7 | Chapter 9

#faniction #fanfic #loki fanfic #loki fandom #loki fanfiction #loki #loki x oc #loki marvel #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #fate:lokixoc

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bluetooththereptile · 2 years

Text

Unneeded embrace

Yandere batfamily x ex-family pregnant fem member

( English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes in the following text.)

Note: someone had asked about the neglected child to be a female that had managed to get away, now being pregnant, her family is going to be after her...

Tw: Mentions of pregnancy and yandere behavior

Hearing the two fast heartbeats let your breath that was caught in the chest ease “See? you were too worried! see those two little munchkins sitting there in their warm and cozy place? why their mom is so stressed over them being a little lazy and not wanting to move around too much? you don’t expect them to practice karate there for the Olympics do you?” Your friend’s joking made you smile as you watched the two babies from the monitor of the ultrasound “It’s just these few weeks have been so stressful for me…” you confessed, a little embarrassed for acting like a drama queen for your babies to not move like before thinking they were hurt or something.

Your friend narrowed her eyes, looking at you with suspicion “Are you sure it was just them being lazy bears like you that made you scream my name as you walked to the section I was in?” She asked as she leaned closer, putting the ultrasound device away, letting the cool air his your moistened belly make goosebumps crawl on your body “Yeah…” you said “You are seven months pregnant with twins and you expect me to believe you it was just that?…you can tell me, did someone hurt you?” you shook your head violently “No!” She hummed and wiped your belly clean “You are either so stupid to make a scene of what had happened, or something really happened…and with what I know of you the second option is more likely…or maybe you are getting stupid!” She said and threw the damp paper cloth on your face to make you pout “Oh come onnnnn!” She laughed at your reaction and helped you sit straight. “Here have some of these cookies, let these little ones have some of Auntie’s pastry!” You teased “You haven’t poured salt instead of sugar in it like last time have you?” She poked your head not so gently “Ish!” and then walked away “Let me get some things done, the whole hospital is in shock, your section’s supervisor will bite my head off and then yours!” and then she left, let you have some time alone with your babies as you nibbled on the cookies, if you were truly “Alone”, you looked around to find any possible camera there. Thankfully it was not.

Your stubbornness to work even if your pregnancy was getting in your way had a reason, you didn’t want to be alone in your house. Your husband was missing for two months already and you have stressed yourself out on his case, as the police did nothing to help you with his case…someone was paying them to ignore it, and you knew well who was doing that. Your phone rang, and you huffed, moving around like a balloon filled with water, you managed to get off of the bed and reached into your uniform’s pocket, thinking it was your secretary you answered it without looking at the number “I’m sorry Marty-” you were cut off by a disgustingly familiar voice “Are you alright? the babies are okay? tell me-” you cut the phone to stop the man behind the phone shouting who could forget the voice that belonged to Bruce Wayne. Trying to take a deep breath you leaned against the wall as the room started to spin around you…after all of those years of trying to forget about anything that had happened, why did he have to come back now? wait…what if…?

You put your hand on your lips to stop a violent sob escape your lips. Now everything completely fits into place! You had just been married for a year after a three years old relationship with your husband. It was around seven years since the time you had left Gotham and your “family” behind, trying to find your future as a doctor, like your grandfather as you had always dreamed. It was hard, you had to work to pay for your college, but life seemed to go its way as you tried your best, life was decent, until you met him, a classmate of yours that was bullied by others for being an ex-criminal. His tattoos were known to everyone! But you with that stubborn nature of yours decided to make friends with the smartest guy in class, your friendship quickly taking a turn and the rest was history…but life seemed to get bored of your happiness and decided to turn everything upside down.

Just after a month of you finding out that you were pregnant, things got weird, your husband would come home late, he was constantly stressed and he was scared of even leaving the house, always muttering “What have I done to deserve this?”, you tried to help him but he avoided you too…till he went missing and no clue was left. You tried to seek help from police and all but no one seemed to care much about him. You were constantly pulled around by your wrecking emotions, your pregnancy was not easy to deal with, and the signs of past childhood neglect showed up as nightmares and phobias of dark places and being alone. You always had to turn something on so not the quietness takes over. It was all because of a bastard that called himself your father…now it all sunk in! it was him! him and his shitty boys, calling themselves heroes when they had fed on your vulnerability to grow and reach the level they were. You hated them with every fiber of your being.

Putting the phone away you took a deep breath in and turned around to pick up your uniform so you could change, your head felt dizzy as you walked to the bed. You heard the door of the room open “Oh honey don’t you have anything for headaches? my head is killing me!” you said, only to freeze in your place “Maybe a hug can help?” your whole body shook as you didn’t even dare to turn back to see three men standing in the room, their reflection in the turned off monitor showed everything. Dick, Jason and a younger man that your assessment was aged up Damian were standing there. How did they even get there? oh right, Dick being the doctor and the boys acting as nurses had worked, especially when they had Tim to give them new identities and information.

“You look stunning…shame the seed is from a dirty place…” Jason commented to which you clenched your jaw and clawed at the bed's thin sheets “You have been away for a long time sister…father has been waiting for you…he’s been worried, angry, and desperate, if it was not for him being in a very crucial mission, he would be here himself…to take you back home!” you wanted to scream that they were not your family, that you didn’t want to do anything with them. That they were monsters who hid themselves behind those fancy masks, but the babies betrayed you, moving around quickly enough to make you lean forward and gasp as you put your hand on your belly. “What happened?” Dick asked, now worried as he walked closer. You were close to picking a syringe up and pointing it at him who backed away easily “Woha that is a dangerous little doctor” Dick teased, his grin making your stomach turn.

You moved forward to hit him but he was quick to take your arm and squeeze it firmly “If you choose violence, I’ll be violent too dear sister…let us end this in peace, we will have plenty of time at home to discuss things” You groaned, now tears falling at realizing how helpless you were. “Let’s go home!” Jason walked closer and took your other arm “You know what will happen if anyone gets involved in this…so why don’t you let us help you get dressed as you leave the hospital in peace with us?” You looked at Jason with hatred “I hate you” “I know” Jason said, now opening and helping your wear your jacket “We all know how you feel…but what has been done can change!” Dick said as he wiped your tears off making you flinch. No, he was wrong, they were just digging the old wounds deeper…but none of them would listen…you were alone, and your family was there for you…always, no matter how far to run away or how hard you tried to resist.

#yandere batfamily #yandere batman #yandere damian wayne #yandere #yandere dick grayson #yandere jason todd #yandere tim drake #yandere bruce wayne #yandere nightwing #pregnant reader #yandere x reader #yandere robin #yandere red robin #yandere red hood #yandere dc #dc comics

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soobmint · 4 years

Text

voices | choi beomgyu [f] soulmates! au, 14.2k words

s u m m a r y : after seeing your soulmate for the first time (whether in passing or by actually meeting them), you are able to hear their voice in your head—but only when they are singing. you have never been very interested in finding love, and choi beomgyu has lost all interest in singing. what happens when the two of you begin to change one another’s minds about the things you wish to avoid more than anything else?

c o n t e n t s : soulmates au, strangers to sorta enemies to lovers, guitarist! gyu, freckle gyu, college au, yeonjun is your best friend, gyu is a brat but a cute brat, very fluffy, a tiny bit of light angst

t a g l i s t : @hyuckworld @chanluster @honeyju @magicalstellar @yeonjuniper (if you’d like to be added to the taglist for future oneshots, please let me know!)

n o t e : this was requested by my dear friend alice, and i hope i did the request justice! the lyrics used in the oneshot are from genius’ english translation of “runaway.” i hope you guys enjoy the oneshot, and do kindly leave a like, comment, or reblog if you enjoyed it! that would mean the world!

YOU MET CHOI BEOMGYU THE DAY YOU SWORE TO NEVER FALL IN LOVE.

As dramatic as it sounded, the day hadn’t been quite so terrible. You were sitting cross-legged in the floor of one of the many practice rooms in your university’s music department with a bag of popcorn in your lap, your head leaned back against the wall as you stifled back a yawn. Your best friend, Yeonjun, was going on and on about his most recent breakup, but the story was so similar to all the other breakups he had gone through in the past two years that you were having a difficult time staying focused. The afternoon sunlight trickled in through the windows, reflecting off the symbols of the drum set that rested in the far corner. You scooted to the side a bit so that the light wouldn’t shine in your eyes anymore as Yeonjun paced back and forth in front of you.

“And then she just stopped talking to me,” He said, running his hands through his hair. “Out of nowhere too! Things had been going so well, but then it was weird. Next thing I know, she’s breaking up with me—get this—over text.”

You tossed a piece of popcorn into your mouth. “Tragic.”

“I know you’re being sarcastic, but yes, it was tragic.” He finally stopped pacing and collapsed to the ground beside of you, leaning his head against your shoulder. “Love is so hard. You meet someone, you think it’s going to work and that you’ll spend a long, happy life together. Next thing you know, you’re single and stuck with your best friend in a stinky music room, waiting for some club meeting to start—or whatever it is we’re in here for.”

“We’re here because we are in charge of organizing the music and theater departments’ performance at the open house next month,” You corrected, flicking his forehead. “And didn’t you only date this girl for like, a week?”

He sighed, sitting up to glare at you. “Love knows not the boundaries of time, my dear friend. You’ll understand once you find it for yourself.”

“Calm down, Shakespeare. I am not falling in love.”

“Unfortunately for you, I don’t think you have any control over that,” He said with a teasing smile. “But why wouldn’t you want to?”

You scoffed, turning to stare at him. “Well, for starters, you haven’t exactly given me a good idea of what ‘love’ is supposed to be, seeing as you’re crying about another ‘true-love-gone-wrong’ every three weeks. Why on earth would I want that for myself?”

“Hey, love is different for everyone,” He said. “Just because my love life is vibrant and exciting and full of various names and faces doesn’t mean the same will happen for you.”

“How do you predict my love life will go, then?”

He hummed, tapping his finger against his chin in thought. “Well, you’re pretty boring, so you’ll probably be the kind of person that waits until they find their soulmate, then you’ll settle down and live a long, safe and uneventful life with them.”

“Shut up,” you said as you shoved him, but you couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled out of you. “I think my soulmate is out of the question, though.”

Yeonjun frowned. “You still haven’t heard him since back then?”

You sighed, shaking your head as you leaned back against the wall. “Not a thing.”

It was quiet then as the two of you thought about what this meant. It wasn’t the first time you had been faced with the reality of your situation, but it still felt like a punch to the stomach every time.

In a world where people waited years, decades even, to hear the voice of their soulmate singing in their head, you had been considered extremely lucky to have heard the gentle voice of a boy in your mind at the age of thirteen. You knew that you had to have met him somewhere—at least in passing—in order to hear him, but you had no clue who he was.

Yet, in a way, it felt like you did. He sang often—so often you wondered if singing was as necessary as breathing to him. It wasn’t a bother to you though; in fact, it was quite the opposite. The songs he sang always told a story; some spoke of love and joy, others off loss and heartache. You felt like each song he sang held a piece of him, and that piece was something that was shared just between the two of you.

Until his voice was gone.

It was rare for him to go a day without singing. Yet suddenly, in your sophomore year of college, days and weeks went by without a single note, and you had yet to hear his voice since.

Your soulmate had stopped singing, and it was difficult to not imagine that the worst had happened.

Yeonjun must have noticed the solemn look that came over your face, because he leaned over and gave your shoulder a squeeze. “Don’t be so gloomy,” he said. “He could still be out there.”

You smiled the best you could, although the pit in your stomach remained. “Yeah, I guess he could.” You tossed the popcorn to Yeonjun and stood to your feet, wiping the crumbs from your hands. “Wait here, okay? The other guy that’s supposed to be helping us is—” You paused to glance at the time on your phone, “—ten minutes late. I’m gonna make sure he knows where to come or see if he’s lost or something.”

Yeonjun nodded, helping himself to what was left of your snack. “Who is the other guy, anyway?”

You sighed, picking up the piece of paper that the department head gave to you when she asked you to organize the showcase, claiming that it would be a great deal of experience for you to acquire in your senior year of university.

You were mostly doing it for the extra credit points.

You began to read the names of the seniors that were in charge of organizing the project listed at the top of the paper. “From the drama department, Choi Yeonjun and Kang Taehyun.”

“Taehyun had an appointment,” Yeonjun said through a mouthful of popcorn. “He’ll be here tomorrow.”

You nodded, tracing your finger along the page, stopping beneath the next pair of names. “From the music department, Y/N and Choi Beomgyu.” You looked up from the paper, tapping your forefinger against your chin. “Choi Beomgyu? Do you know him?”

Yeonjun pondered for a moment before snapping his fingers. “Ah—that guy!” You weren’t surprised; Yeonjun seemed to know everyone in the performing arts programs at your school. “He’s one of the top guitar students, if I’m remembering correctly. Have you not heard of him?”

You shook your head, looking back down at his name. Choi Beomgyu. It did sound familiar, but no images or information came along with the words printed on the page. It was nothing more than a tugging feeling in your stomach that made you feel like you knew him from somewhere.

You began walking towards the door, still staring down at the paper. Just as the tips of your fingers brushed across the metal handle, the door swung open, and you barely had time to glance up and see a head of fluffy black hair and big brown eyes before the door crashed into your forehead so hard you fell backwards to the tile floor.

With a hiss, you brought your hand up to your forehead, relieved to find a lack of blood there. Your eyes were blurred with tears, but through the fog you were able to see the same round doe eyes you had caught a glimpse of before you hit the ground.

“Are you okay?” It was a guy’s voice, clear and ringing in your ears. You rubbed your eyes to clear some of the moisture and were then able to get a better look at the boy in front of you. Curly black bangs hung over his brows, brushing just over the tops of his wide chocolate eyes. His sun-kissed skin was sprinkled with a light spatter of freckles across his nose and lightly flushed cheeks.

You blinked several times before responding. “Y-yeah, I’m okay.” You accepted his hand when he offered to help you stand back up, and soon, you were on your feet once more.

“Sorry about that,” he said, brushing a hand through his already tousled hair. He leaned forward a bit, tapping his finger against your forehead. “Just got a tiny bump, though. You’ll be okay.”

You backed away from his touch, but he didn’t seem to notice as he had caught sight of Yeonjun. Your best friend was quite literally on the edge of his seat, perched on the ledge of the desk while shoveling the last crumbs of popcorn into his mouth as if this were some movie unfolding before his eyes. If you had been close enough, you would have hit him.

“Yeonjun?” Door Boy’s face lit up, and he strode over to give your pink-haired friend a high five. “I haven’t seen you in ages!”

“Hey, man,” Yeonjun said with a grin, ruffling Door Boy’s curly hair with his fingers. “I know, it’s been way too long.”

“I’m sorry, who’s this?” You asked, still a bit dazed from your unexpected collision with the door.

Yeonjun looked back at you, gesturing to the newcomer. “Oh, this is—”

“Choi Beomgyu,” he finished the introduction himself, giving you an overdramatic bow as he said his name. “And you must be Y/N?”

Things were beginning to click together in your head: Door Boy was Choi Beomgyu. In other words, Door Boy was your assigned partner—the one you would be spending the next four weeks trying to plan a performance with.

For some reason, the fact that you had met one another by him slamming a door into your face didn’t leave the best feeling in your chest.

“I look forward to working with you, Y/N.” He gave you a big, lopsided grin, one that any other person would likely find heartwarming.

You forced a smile in return, rubbing your hand across the bump on your forehead. “Same here, Choi Beomgyu.”

PERHAPS IT HAD A BIT TO DO WITH HOW POORLY YOUR FIRST MEETING WENT, BUT SOMETHING ABOUT BEOMGYU REALLY GOT UNDER YOUR SKIN.

The day after you had first met one another, Yeonjun had asked everyone to meet up in the coffee shop inside the campus library. This time, Taehyun from the drama department was also able to be there. You had gotten to know him pretty well over the past four years because of how close he and Yeonjun had become, so the three of you hung out often.

In fact, for the first fifteen minutes of the meeting, it was just the three of you sitting there. You pushed your tongue against the inside of your cheek in agitation before taking another sip of your coffee. “Does this Beomgyu guy have a thing for being late?”

“Relax, Y/N,” Yeonjun said absently from across the table, his attention focused primarily on his cell phone screen. “Not everyone’s a time freak like you.”

“Time freak—What does that even mean?” You crumpled up the wrapper from Taehyun’s straw and threw it at Yeonjun. “Unlike you, I actually care about getting these extra credit points and would like to organize this event properly.”

“Hey! I care!” Yeonjun placed a hand over his heart, as though he had been wounded.

You and Taehyun exchanged a side glance with one another, eyebrows raised.

“Stop looking at each other like that! I do care!”

Before the point could be argued any further, a messy-haired boy crashed into the seat beside of you, out of breath, his backpack falling from his shoulder and onto the ground from the impact. You stared at him for a moment before realizing that it was Beomgyu.

“Sorry—I’m late,” he said in between deep breaths. “On my way here—saw one of the campus cats—got distracted.”

You stared at him again, almost laughing at how ridiculous of an excuse that was. However, considering what little you knew of Beomgyu, the thought of him being fifteen minutes late to a meeting because he got distracted by a cat didn’t seem all that unlikely. With a sigh, you slid a blank piece of notebook paper towards him and set a pen on top of it. “It’s all good. Mind taking notes?”

He nodded—a bit too enthusiastically, if you were to say so yourself. “Sure. Can I grab a coffee real quick?”

You were about to suggest that he should wait until after the meeting, since the three of you had been there for such a long time already, but Taehyun chimed in before you could say anything with, “Of course. We’ve got nowhere else to be.”

It took everything within you to not roll your eyes. You were usually on the same page as Taehyun, but of course, this situation had to be an exception, because Choi Beomgyu was there.

The slacker was rummaging around his backpack, searching for something. He pouted, looking up from his bag. “I forgot my wallet.”

“No worries! Y/N doesn’t eat breakfast, so she always has an extra swipe on her meal card,” Yeonjun said from across the table. Your mouth fell open, eyes wide as saucers. “I’m sure she wouldn’t mind letting you use it. Right, Y/N?”

You weren’t quite sure that you did want Beomgyu to use your meal card, but what kind of jerk would you be if you said no? With gritted teeth and a glare at your best friend, you fished your meal card out of your wallet and placed it into Beomgyu’s open palm.

The pout left his lips instantly, a big grin taking its place. “Thanks. I’ll return the favor sometime soon.”

Doubt it, you thought, watching him rush towards the counter to order. You’ll probably forget you said that by the time you get your drink.

Soon he was back at the table, caramel latte in hand, your meal card back in your possession. You cleared your throat, shifting in your seat. “If everyone’s ready, we can go ahead and get started. I met with my professor yesterday—she’s also the head of the classical music department. She’s technically our ‘overseer,’ but all the responsibility of planning the performance is on us. We’ll only have about forty minutes total to showcase the drama and music departments, so we need to choose our sets wisely.”

“Yeonjun and I were talking a bit about this earlier,” Taehyun said. “We’ve been preparing for our winter show since the beginning of the summer, so we figured we could just perform a scene from the play.”

You nodded, liking the idea. “That sounds perfect. What’s the play?”

“A Midsummer Night’s Dream.”

“Right, I knew that. Could you guys work on finding a scene around ten or fifteen minutes long to perform for the open house, then?”

Yeonjun and Taehyun both nodded. You smiled, glad that you were finally starting to get some things together for the event.

When you glanced at Beomgyu to make sure he had written that down, the smile left as quickly as it had come when you saw that he was doodling tiny flowers and hearts all over the page rather than taking notes.

He must have felt your eyes on him, because he glanced up and caught your gaze. Seemingly unbothered, he simply smiled and said, “Don’t worry. I was just about to write it down.”

Your fingers itched to reach over and take the pen and paper from him so you could just do it yourself, but you kept your composure. “Beomgyu. Any ideas for what the music department could do?”

He finished writing down Drama Department—Scene from “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” before looking at you again. He shrugged, another nonchalant smile spreading across his face. “Not really. I’m down for whatever it is you decide to do.”

“Wow, helpful. Truly.” Your eyes went wide when you realized you had said those words out loud after Yeonjun and Taehyun began to snicker beside you. Your face flushed with embarrassment, but Beomgyu seemed unphased, that careless lopsided grin of his still on full display.

You sighed, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear. “Well, I was thinking about having the orchestra do a piece, and then having one of the student bands do a piece. That way we have something classical and something more contemporary. Thoughts?”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Taehyun said. “If we do our scene first, the orchestra could kind of act as a bridge between Shakespeare and more modern art.”

“I agree,” Yeonjun said. “And since Y/N is in the orchestra, she can get in touch with the director and have them prepare something. Oh, and Beomgyu!” The curly-haired boy looked up from his doodling when his name was called. “You know a few different bands, right? Think you could piece together a group of performers?”

“Definitely,” Beomgyu said. When he noticed your eyes on him, he quickly scribbled down Orchestra—Y/N. Band—Beomgyu Me.

“Well, since we all have our first tasks, I guess that’s all for today.” You were happy that the meeting was over; you were ready to get back to your dorm so you could get to work and actually get things done.

“Wait!” Beomgyu said as you stood up, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

Now you have something to say. You raised a brow at him expectantly.

“We should exchange phone numbers, right?” He smiled, standing up and holding his phone out towards you. “I have the others’ numbers, but I figure I should be able to contact my partner from the music department.”

You hesitated, but knew there was no logical reason why you shouldn’t give him your number. You were going to be working together for the next several weeks, after all.

After putting your number in, he took his phone back and grinned at you again, eyes scrunching up into crescent moons. “Perfect! I’ll try not to bother you too much, but I make no promises.” He reached forward and ruffled your hair, and you were too caught off guard by the sudden touch to back away, or to even react at all. He then waved at all three of you, throwing his backpack over his shoulder. “See you guys tomorrow then.” He turned towards you again, throwing you a casual wink that still managed to have you flustered. “I’ll be in touch, partner.”

You turned to watch him leave, face warm as you brushed through your hair with your fingers, trying to undo the damage your “partner” had done.

Something told you that he wouldn’t be keeping his promise about trying not to bother you anytime soon.

OVER THE NEXT FEW WEEKS, BEOMGYU PROVED HIMSELF TO BE ONE OF THE MOST BOTHERSOME PEOPLE YOU HAD COME ACROSS IN A LONG, LONG TIME.

The worst part was the fact that he didn’t do anything blatantly wrong. He did everything he was asked to do when it came to preparing for the showcase. The first week of work consisted of the two of you gathering all the students who would be participating in the performances, along with Yeonjun and Taehyun preparing those from the drama department. Beomgyu performed all of his tasks just as he was asked to do, so it wasn’t as if he was bothering you by being unhelpful.

It was just something about the way he held himself that seemed to get under your skin for no apparent reason.

For the past week, your “partner” had basically been a tagalong—he would stand beside of you and do what he was asked without contributing much to the creative process of planning. You found it hard to criticize him up front, as he just did as he was told.

However, that was all he did. When the four of you would all sit down together to discuss plans or ideas, Beomgyu’s role never changed: he would sit beside all of you, jot down anything you told him to in his nearly-full composition notebook, and crack an occasional joke that would always send Yeonjun and Taehyun into fits of laughter, but only earned a stiff, forced smile from you.

You were starting to wonder why your professor had assigned him to your team. After all, putting on this open house was your last shot at making a lasting impression on the higher ups in your department. Everything needed to be perfect; mediocracy was not an option.

In other words, Choi Beomgyu needed to step up his game, and he needed to do it quickly.

You thought about this on the day of your first rehearsal, where all of the students who would be participating in the performances had gathered in the main auditorium of the music building.

Drama students were scattered in all directions, occupying the space around them with dramatic line readings and critiques for their classmates as they practiced their roles. Yeonjun and Taehyun were busy taking charge of the drama students, making sure everything was running smoothly amongst them. You watched as Kai, one of the freshman students Yeonjun had taken under his wing, followed your friends around like a baby penguin waddling after its parents, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

Music students were spread across the stage, the orchestra setting up instruments and covering stands with sheets filled by notes and lyrics while the band tuned their guitars and plugged up their mics. Soobin, a tall, blue-haired student from the same year as you, waved at you from stage with his mic in hand. You waved back, happy that you had been able to snag him as the main vocalist for the band’s performance—his voice was angelic, able to captivate any listener.

“Hey.” You turned at the sound of the voice you had begun to grow quite accustomed to, whether that was for better or for worse. Beomgyu was standing beside of you, brushing a hand through the curly black bangs that hung just above his eyes. The tip of his nose was flushed pink, a sign that he had likely just been out in the biting cold that had begun to creep up as fall quickly approached. He had his backpack slung over one shoulder and his guitar case held in one hand.

“Running a little late, aren’t we?” You asked, glancing at the time on your phone with no attempt at hiding your frown. “Is this going to be a trend with you, Choi Beomgyu?”

He laughed, nudging his shoulder against yours. You wanted to be more irritated with him than you were, but he had the kind of laugh that put everyone around him at ease; the kind of laugh that filled one’s chest with warmth, as if you had been directly touched by a ray of sunlight reaching down from the sky.

So you settled with being only slightly irritated, pursing your lips to keep your expression in check as he responded with, “What fun would it be if everyone was on time?”

“It’s not about fun, it’s about making sure this whole thing runs smoothly,” you said as you turned to face him. “Speaking of which, since you didn’t have any suggestions, I went ahead and helped the band choose a setlist. They’ll only have time for two songs, but the ones I picked are really diverse and should be—”

“Ah!” He cut you off, snapping his fingers in front of your face, causing you to flinch back in surprise. “I knew there was something I forgot to tell you.”

“What?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, grinning as he shifted a bit closer to you. You could smell his cologne—a misty citrus scent that was so light you could barely tell it was there. “Well, it’s kind of embarrassing, but the professor actually wanted the band to perform one of the songs I wrote. If that’s okay with you, of course—you’re the boss, after all.”

“You—you write songs?” You asked, trying not to get irritated at the sudden disruption of what you had planned. He had been complacent this entire time, so of course, the time he actually had something to contribute, he would be messing up what you had already set in place.

“Well, if it’s a suggestion from the professor, I can’t just deny you permission, can I?” You said with a forced laugh. “Do you have the—”

“Sheet music?” He finished your sentence, shaking a stack of papers in front of you. “Right here, partner. Want me to go tell the band?”

You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest. “Sure. Just tell them to switch the second song I had picked out with this one.”

He smiled at you again, ruffling your hair with the same hand he held the papers in. “You’re a saint. I’ll talk to you in a bit then?”

You had no time to respond before he was setting off towards the stage to talk to the band, papers and guitar in hand. You huffed through pursed lips, mumbling under your breath as you tried to put your hair back in place.

“What was that all about?” You dropped your hands to your sides when Yeonjun approached you, eyebrow quirked. Half of his cotton-candy colored hair was pulled into a ponytail, and he had on a pair of big round glasses with what you knew to be fake lenses—a fashion statement rather than a necessity.

“I don’t think Beomgyu knows much about personal boundaries or personal responsibility,” you mumbled, allowing Yeonjun to come up and finish fixing your hair with his fingers. “He decided to just now tell me that our professor wanted the band to use one of his songs in the performance.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing’s wrong with it, I just—” You hesitated, unsure of how to respond without sounding like a jerk. “I just wish he would have told me about it sooner. That’s all.”

“Y/N, you need to cut the guy some slack,” Yeonjun said, stepping back once he was finished fixing up your hair. “You act as though you have a personal vendetta against him or something.”

“I do not,” You argued, feeling you defenses flare up at his words. “Why would you say that?”

“I don’t know, maybe because every time he walks in the room you start to grimace, and every time he talks to you I can literally feel the amount of energy it takes for you to not roll your eyes.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“If you say so.” He put his hand on your shoulder, giving you a stern look that did, in fact, make you roll your eyes. “Give him a chance, Y/N. You may end up liking him more than you’d expect.”

You scoffed as your best friend walked away from you, returning to work on his previous tasks with Taehyun. A vendetta? Was it really that obvious to the people around you that Beomgyu got under your skin?

Perhaps Yeonjun was right—you did have a tendency to be extra sensitive when it came to your academic responsibilities. Maybe you were being too hard on Beomgyu; his goal was the same as yours, even if his methods differed drastically from yours.

You looked up to the stage to see Beomgyu laughing as he said something to Soobin, the rest of the band analyzing the sheets of music in their hands—Beomgyu’s song, if you had to guess. His skin glowed like honey beneath the stage lights, and you noticed that when he laughed, he laughed with his entire body; his eyes disappeared into crescents, his shoulders shook, he clapped his hands together and even stomped his feet a bit. You smiled slightly at the sight, before a pang of guilt hit you.

He did seem like a nice guy. It was time you gave him a chance to be seen as such in your eyes.

ANY PATIENCE YOU HAD DESPERATELY TRIED TO HOLD WITH BEOMGYU WAS WEARING THIN, AND IT HAD ONLY BEEN AN HOUR SINCE YOU DECIDED TO GIVE HIM A CHANCE.

You had both stayed behind with Yeonjun and Taehyun to clean up the auditorium after the practice. “I think that we’re done, don’t you?” You asked everyone after picking up a few discarded sheets of paper left behind by the drama students.

“Almost,” Beomgyu said from the stage. You looked up at him to see him pointing at two large music stands left behind by the orchestra. “Someone left these behind.”

“Can’t we just leave them there?” Yeonjun asked.

Taehyun shook his head. “No, we were given specific instructions to not leave anything behind.” He glanced at his phone. “They’re about to close the building for the night, so we should hurry and put them up.”

“I know which room they came from, so I can take them back,” Beomgyu offered.

“They’re pretty heavy, Beomgyu. Are you sure you can carry them on your own?” Taehyun asked.

“Yeah, it’s fine—”

“No, no, someone should definitely help you. You have to carry your guitar too,” Yeonjun interjected, a mischievous glint in your eyes that sent sirens blaring in your head. The feelings of disdain only grew when Yeonjun made eye contact with you directly, seeming to give you a sweet smile, but you knew the expression was laced with ulterior motives. “Y/N, why don’t you carry one while Beomgyu carries the other?”

You wanted to smack him, but that wouldn’t have been a good look for you, considering that everyone already thought you hated Beomgyu anyways. You glanced up at him on the stage to see that he had already picked one of the stands up, his guitar in the other hand. He gave you a big grin, eyes sparkling like freshly fallen snow. “What do you say, partner? Care to give me a hand?”

You pushed your tongue against the inside of your cheek, knowing that there was no way you were getting out of this one. “Sure,” You said through your teeth, glaring daggers at Yeonjun before making your way up the steps to the stage. The music stand wasn’t too heavy, so you almost dared to ask Beomgyu to try carrying them both in one hand, but decided against it.

“We’ll go ahead and leave then,” Yeonjun said, throwing a taunting wink your way. “You two have fun.”

You hate to bite your tongue to keep from cursing at him as Yeonjun and Taehyun left the auditorium, leaving you alone with Beomgyu for the first time. You glanced his way, noticing that he already had his eyes on you. Instead of averting his gaze when yours met his, he just smiled wider, gesturing towards the door with his head. “Shall we?”

You forced another smile. “Lead the way, partner.”

You followed him out the doors and up the stairs to the first floor, where the orchestra’s practice room was located. You were very familiar with the area, being a violinist yourself. When the two of you reached the room, you rushed forward to open the door, as Beomgyu’s hands were full. He thanked you and stepped inside first, and you followed suit, letting the heavy door swing shut behind you.

“Where should we set them?” He asked.

You nodded to the far corner of the room. “Over there.”

The two of you set the stands down, and you instantly turned back towards the door, ready to get back to your dorm for some alone time after such a taxing day.

“In a rush?” Beomgyu asked from behind you.

You turned to look over your shoulder at him as your hand grasped the doorknob. “Nah, just tired. Aren’t you?”

He shrugged, shifting his guitar case from one hand to the other. “Not really.”

“Lucky you,” You mumbled, turning back towards the door. “Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow—”

You stopped mid-sentence, heart dropping to your toes. When you tried to turn the knob, it wouldn’t move. After a moment of shock, you tried again, and then again, violently shaking the knob, trying to get the door to open.

“No, no, no,” You said, shaking the handle desperately. “Come on, this can’t be happening!”

“What is it?” Beomgyu asked, setting his guitar on the floor before rushing to your side.

“The door won’t open.” You shook the knob more frantically than ever, the entire door shaking from the force.

“Woah, easy there, partner,” Beomgyu said, gently placing his hand on your arm. “Why don’t you let me try to—”

“What exactly do you think you’re going to be able to do differently?” You snapped, snatching your arm away from him. His mouth hung open, eyes wide with what you assumed to be shock. “We’re stuck in here, Beomgyu. We’re stuck, and we’re not going to get out for god knows how long, and with you as my ‘partner,’ I’m one hundred percent certain we’re not going to be able to find a way out of here on our own.”

You could tell that your words struck a nerve with him by the way his shoulders tensed and how his eyes went narrow. Looking back, you wished you could reel the words back in, but they had already done their damage.

“Why do you hate me so much?” He asked, his voice low and thick with irritation.

It was your turn to be shocked. “What?”

“I said, why do you hate me so much?”

You blinked rapidly, feeling exposed and vulnerable now that he was confronting you. “I don’t—I don’t hate you, Beomgyu.”

He scoffed, pulling his bottom lip under his teeth. “Come on, I’m not that much of an idiot. This entire time, from the moment we first met, you’ve been cold and snippy with me. You can barely hide how much you dislike me with your facial expressions. I thought maybe we just got off on the wrong foot, so I’ve been brushing it off and treating you kindly. But you still treat me like I’m some annoying fly that you can’t quite get rid of, and I want to know why.”

“That’s not—I don’t hate you,” You repeated, jumbling your words together as you struggled to figure out what to say.

“Well, what’s the issue then?”

“You don’t take anything seriously!” Your voice wasn’t quite a shout, but it was almost there. Beomgyu took a step back, arms dropping to his sides.

“You’re treating this entire thing like it’s an elementary school play,” You continued, your voice getting louder and your words coming out more and more rushed the more you spoke. “You don’t contribute in the meetings, you show up late, and you barely do the things I ask you to do. I understand it may not be anything special to you, but this is my last chance to do something memorable here. I’m graduating in the spring, and up until this point, I’ve been nothing but another violinist tossed in the orchestra. I don’t stand out to my professors, or to scouts, to anyone.”

Hot tears began to well in the corners of your eyes as thoughts of your mother surfaced. Every word she had ever said about your pursuit of music being a waste of time, of how little a chance you had of making it, how your only hope was to stand out in the department, which, of course, she highly doubted you would be capable of doing.

“I have to do this, and I have to do it right.” Your voice wavered as you swiped at your cheeks, where a few tears had fallen. “If I don’t, then I’ll—I’ll—”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Beomgyu’s voice was gentle, in stark contrast to the razor-sharp tone he had held just seconds before. You looked at him through your teary eyes to see that his own eyes were wide, this time with concern rather than anger. “You don’t have to explain, I understand, okay? I’m sorry, Y/N.”

You sniffed, more tears gliding down your cheeks as you did so. “What?”

“I’m sorry,” He repeated, looking as though he were about to start crying himself. “I had no idea that’s how I was coming across. I’m really, really sorry.”

You stared at him, dumbfounded. How were you supposed to respond to that? The last thing you expected to hear from him was an apology, especially since, now that you had yelled at him, you realized how unfair you were being towards him. You shook your head, wiping furiously at your eyes. “No, you don’t have to apologize Beomgyu. I should be apologizing—I’m the one being irrational, not to mention I’m also the one that locked us in here—”

“How about we just call it even then, hm?” He cut you off, looking around before he spotted a box of tissues on the front desk. He grabbed one and made his way back over to you, gently wiping the tears from your face, being careful to not touch you directly. “We’ve both apologized for something that the other person doesn’t think requires an apology. The grounds are neutral now.”

You laughed, gently taking the tissue from his hand so you could wipe your eyes on your own. He stepped back when you did so, smiling nervously at your sudden laughter.

“Thank you, Beomgyu,” You said quietly, wadding the tissue up in your hand.

He rubbed the back of his neck, rocking back and forth on his feet. “No need to thank me, Y/N.” He paused, seeming to be in deep thought. It was quiet for a moment before he stuck his hand out towards you, expression cautiously hopeful. “Now that we both understand each other a little better, do you think we could start over?”

You smiled, wrapping your hand around his to give it a firm shake. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

THE WORLD ALWAYS SEEMED COLDER WHEN YOU WERE ALONE.

Of course, it could have felt cold because you were alone in a hotel parking lot, sitting on the cool pavement in the late hours of the night. You hadn’t brought a jacket with you, and your dress was sleeveless and made of thin fabric that didn’t do much to protect you from the wind that sent strands of hair flying across your face.

However, you were certain that if your mother or father had been sitting beside of you that early winter’s night, you would barely even notice the bite of the wind or the goosebumps that prickled up all over your bare arms. Even the stars had denied you their company; the sky was pitch black, void of any trace of light.

Lower lip trembling, you sighed as you kept your gaze on the sky above, thinking that maybe, if you kept looking, you’d find a single star shining amidst the darkness. Tears filled your eyes, but you wiped them away before they could fall.

“You’re a strong girl, Y/N,” Your mother would say if she were to catch you crying. “Strong girls don’t cry, do they?”

“No,” You whispered, even though she wasn’t there to hear you. “Strong girls don’t cry.”

“What do you mean?”

You jumped at the sudden voice, placing your hand over your heart before you turned your head to see a boy sitting on the pavement beside you. He had curly black hair that stuck out from beneath a beanie, covering the top of his eyes, and a big jacket on over his clothes. He seemed to be the same age as you, but of course, you couldn’t be sure.

“W-what?” You spoke through shaking lips, pulling your arms around yourself in an attempt to stay warm.

“You said that strong girls don’t cry,” He said, eyeing you with curiosity. “What do you mean by that?”

“Oh,” you whispered, looking down at your shoes—a pair of black flats with scuff marks all over the toes. “It’s nothing— just something my mom says.”

He hummed, leaning back on the palms of his hands. “Well, I think she’s wrong. Everyone cries, even the strongest people alive. If someone tells you they don’t cry, then they’re lying.” He turned towards you, a big grin on his face. “You don’t seem like a liar to me.”

You sniffled, wiping your hand across your cheeks to catch the few tears that had managed to slip down. “Thanks, I think.”

“It was definitely meant as a compliment.” He sat up straight then, narrowing his eyes at you. You shrunk back a bit, shoulders shaking as the wind only seemed to get stronger by the second.

A moment later, he was sitting right beside of you, so close that his arm brushed against yours as he slipped his coat off, revealing an oversized hoodie beneath it. He wrapped the coat around your shoulders, and zipped it up, trapping your arms inside. He smiled again and sat back, but he was still close to you, so close that your shoulders were pressed together and his pinky was resting on top of yours.

Eyes wide, you slowly shook your head and slipped your arms through the sleeves so you could reach the zipper. “No, I’m okay—”

“Hey, keep it on, please,” He interrupted, placing his hand on top of yours to stop you from unzipping the coat. “It’s freezing out here, and you don’t even have any sleeves.”

You hesitated, not wanting to be a bother to this unexpectedly kind stranger, but you would have been lying if you had said that the cold wasn’t starting to bother you. Not wanting your lips to turn blue, you nodded, pulling your arms back into the coat to keep them extra warm.

“Thank you,” you said quietly. “What are you doing out here, by the way?”

“Me? Oh, I was just sneaking out to the indoor pool.” He pointed over his shoulder at the building with a large dome roof made of glass. “My parents are already asleep and didn’t notice me leave. You?”

“Ah, well, my family is staying here for the night. My parents and I are going out for dinner to celebrate my birthday.”

“It’s your birthday?” He asked, eyes growing wide. You nodded sheepishly and his smile grew bigger before he reached over to ruffle your hair with his hand. “Happy birthday!”

You giggled, smoothing your hair back down when he pulled his hand away. Your eyes met his, which seemed to sparkle with the light of billions of galaxies, paired perfectly with his beaming smile, and you realized that maybe you didn’t need the stars that night after all, because he alone shined brightly enough.

He looked around then, eyebrows furrowed. “But, where are your parents? Shouldn’t you guys get going before all the restaurants close?”

Your smile faded just as quickly as it had appeared. You swallowed, your eyes drifting towards a car that sat a few yards away from the two of you. The car was running and the lights inside were on, casting a yellow glow onto the two occupants seated in the front: your parents. Although you couldn’t hear what they were saying, you knew that they were yelling by the way they pointed their fingers at each other, and by the expressions on their faces, and the intensity with which their lips were moving.

The boy followed your gaze, his mouth parting slightly in surprise when he caught sight of your parents in the heat of their dispute. He glanced sideways at you before moving to sit in front of you, blocking your view of your parents.

“Why don’t you sneak to the pool with me?” He asked.

You shook your head immediately, a slight smile returning to your face. It was clear that he was trying to distract you, and you were grateful. That didn’t mean you were willing to sneak away from your parents, especially when the tension among your family was already sky high.

“Why not?” He whined, sticking his bottom lip out in a pout.

“Because I’m not supposed to move from this spot,” You said.

“And I wasn’t supposed to leave my hotel room, yet here I am.” He shrugged nonchalantly, brushing his bangs out of his eyes only for them to fall right back into place. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

There were a lot of really terrible things that could happen as a result of you sneaking away to go night swimming with a boy you didn’t know while your parents fought in the middle of a hotel parking lot. You could probably list ten off the top of your head. However, when you looked into the starry eyes of the boy in front of you, his lips spread in an encouraging grin that made you feel warm inside despite the cold, you hesitated.

What was the worst thing that could happen? The list seemed to be erased from your head as quickly as it appeared.

He tilted his head to the side, a playful glint sparkling in his eyes. He stood up and stretched his hand out to you, his fingers trembling from the cold.

“Should we run away?”

Your fingers twitched, urging to reach out touch his own. You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to find the balance between being rational and following where your heart was leading. These two things did not seem to be lining up.

Before you could do anything, however, you heard a car door slamming shut. You jumped to your feet just in time to see your mother stepping away from the vehicle before your father drove off, leaving her alone in the parking lot. Eyes wide with worry, you watched as your mother brushed her hand across her cheeks before taking a deep breath and making her way towards you.

“Y/N,” she said when she reached you, not even glancing at the boy beside of you as she took your face in her hands. “Your dad is going to come pick us up in the morning. How about we just have a girl’s night to celebrate your birthday instead?”

With your heart dropping to your toes, you felt the tears welling in your eyes once again, but you refused to let them fall. You smiled and nodded, wrapping your hand around your mother’s. “Yeah. That sounds fine.”

You turned towards the boy to see that his face was full of concern. Forcing the best smile you could, you unzipped his coat and slipped it off your shoulders before placing it back in his outstretched hands.

“Thank you,” you said quietly. Before he could say anything back, you had turned away and began walking back towards the entrance, arm-in-arm with your mother.

“I was thinking we could order a pizza and rent your favorite movies,” she said, straining to keep the emotion out of your voice. “I’ll order the food once we get back to the room, okay?”

You nodded slowly, halting your footsteps just before the automatic doors that led inside.

But when you turned your head to catch one last look at the boy who shined brighter than the stars, he was already gone.

IN THE HAZY PLACE BETWEEN SLEEPING AND WAKING, YOU COULD HAVE SWORN YOU HEARD HIM SINGING.

With your eyes still closed, the sound rang through your head, clear as day. It was comforting, as if you had heard it before. Yet it wasn’t a sound that only echoed around you. This voice, so gentle and sweet that it seemed to drip with sugar and honey, filled all of your senses to the brim. You weren’t just hearing it, you were feeling it.

“In moments like those, when tears fill your eyes, hold my hand tight. Should we run away?”

You sighed, swept away by the sound and the words that the voice sang. You felt as though you had heard it before, but you couldn’t quite think of where. Snuggling closer to whatever it was that you were leaning against, you allowed the faintest of smiles to trace its way across your lips.

The singing stopped. “Y/N?”

“Hmm?” You pressed your face closer against the warmth you were leaning into, frowning at the sudden absence of the soothing voice.

“Are you awake?”

“Yeah,” you mumbled, slowly forcing your eyes open.

You weren’t quite sure where exactly you expected to be when you opened your eyes, but it definitely was not on the floor of the orchestra practice room with your head in Choi Beomgyu’s lap. Beomgyu was smiling down at you, black curls hanging over his eyes, freckles illuminated by the faint moonlight that spilled through the windows.

You sat up quickly, trying to fix your messy hair as you felt your face grow warm. You didn’t remember falling asleep, but you were incredibly embarrassed that you had.

“How—how long was I asleep?” You asked, your voice hoarse.

“Just an hour or so. I think you got so stressed out after trying to call so many people that you just passed out,” Beomgyu said. He reached his hands toward you and helped you straighten up your hair, which only served to make your face even warmer than before.

“Sorry,” you said, gesturing to his lap. “For . . . that.”

He waved his hand at you before folding his hands behind his head. “Don’t apologize. Seems like you needed the sleep—you were dreaming pretty intensely.”

“I was? Did I say anything weird in my sleep? What did I say? Was it embarrassing?” You grabbed his sleeve, eyes wide as you bombarded him with questions.

He laughed, shaking his head in reassurance. “Don’t worry, it was nothing embarrassing. But you were talking.”

“What did I say?”

“Hmm, something about it being your birthday?” He placed a finger against his chin, eyes narrowed. “I’m not sure exactly what else. It was all kinda random.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, biting the inside of your cheek as you let go of his sleeve. You remembered every bit of the dream you had—well, it wasn’t really a dream as much as it was a memory. It was embarrassing to think that Beomgyu had heard any part of the memory, but you tried not to think about it too much.

“Beomgyu,” You said, opening your eyes once more to look at him. “Were you singing just now? Before I woke up?”

He didn’t say anything at first, his expression blank. Then, he smiled, nudging your shoulder with his. “Of course not—you know I don’t sing. Why?”

“Actually, for the record, I did not know that,” You corrected. “And I don’t know, I just . . . thought I heard someone.”

“Maybe it was your soulmate,” Beomgyu said, moving his eyebrows up and down.

You sighed, looking down at your feet. “I wish it was. I haven’t heard from him in two years.”

The smile fell from Beomgyu’s face right away. “Ah, sorry, I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to apologize.”

“Do you . . . know what happened to him?”

You shook your head, staring at the moon through the window. “No. I don’t even know who he was.”

“Hey, why are you speaking in the past tense?” He turned towards you and grabbed your shoulders, forcing you to face him. “Think positively, Y/N. He could still be out there. When did you first hear him?”

“When I was thirteen,” You answered. “But he stopped singing two years ago.”

“And you haven’t heard anything since then?”

You hesitated, thinking back over the past two years and all the sleepless nights you had spent waiting and hoping to hear any trace of a note ringing in your ears, the faintest hint of a voice. Sometimes, when you were just about to close your eyes, you would’ve sworn that you could hear his voice for the briefest of moments before you drifted off, but you would always blame it on being sleep deprived.

“No,” you said quietly. “I haven’t heard anything. He used to sing all the time, too. I would wake up to the sound of his voice, and it would carry me throughout each and every day. I know it sounds weird to say this about someone I don’t remember meeting, but I felt . . . connected to him, if that makes sense?”

Beomgyu didn’t say anything, so you continued. “He’s actually the reason why I picked up the violin. I got so used to his voice, I would go around humming all day. I guess my mom got tired of hearing me, because soon after I started hearing him, my mom signed me up for violin lessons. And, well, now I’m here.”

You looked over to see Beomgyu smiling softly, but his eyes didn’t meet yours. “Do you have any idea of who it might be?”

You were quiet for a moment. The image of the boy from the hotel parking lot with his star-struck eyes and diamond smile came to your mind, as always.

“No. But I have someone I hope it is.”

You looked over at him again, and this time, his eyes met yours. The silvery light of the moon highlighted the right side of his face and the bridge of his nose, casting a stark shadow across the other side. He was neither smiling nor frowning as his eyes searched yours. What exactly he was looking for you couldn’t be sure of, however, you liked the eye contact well enough to let it go on for a moment longer before you cleared your throat, looking back towards the window.

“Did you try calling Yeonjun again?”

“Yep. No answer.”

“Taehyun?”

“Nothing.”

“The professor?”

“Didn’t pick up—I left a message though.”

You sighed, allowing the back of your head to hit the wall behind you. “We’ll be stuck here all night at this rate.”

“Well, now that you’ve had a little nap, we may as well use this time to be productive,” Beomgyu said, standing to his feet and stretching his arms above his head as he did so.

You crossed your arms, raising a brow as you watched him pull his guitar out of the case. “What’s this? Choi Beomgyu taking initiative?”

“Hey, we said we were starting over.”

You laughed as he sat on the edge of the desk in front of where you were sitting on the floor. He pulled the strap over his shoulder and began tuning his guitar by ear, something you always struggled to do with your violin.

“What are you doing?” You asked.

He strummed through all the strings, nodding when he was satisfied with the sounds. Glancing down at you, he smiled. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m going to show you the song I wrote.”

Interest piqued, you sat up straighter and smiled back at him. “I was hoping that’s what you’d say.”

He laughed, adjusting his position on the desk before his fingers found their place on the neck of the guitar. You listened attentively as he began to pick the first notes, watching the way his fingers moved deliberately across the frets, yet, his movements never lost their grace. At first, he kept his eyes focused on his hands. But as the song went on, his eyes slowly closed, and he played without seeing, relying solely on the sound of the notes he was creating and the feeling of the strings that pressed into his calloused fingertips.

Awestruck would have been an understatement for the way you felt as you watched him play. The way he became one with the sounds he created, the way his wrist twisted to strum and how his fingertips slid across the length of the instrument as if it was the very thing they had been created to do. You were hypnotized, allowing the music to seep into your heart and make it thump against your chest like a caged bird begging to be set free.

If you had to put a word to how he looked in that moment, “beautiful” was the closest you would be able to get.

He opened his eyes as he strummed the last note, a gentle grin on his lips. You noticed how his eyes sparkled in the darkness, despite his back being towards the moonlight rather than his face.

“What do you think?” He asked, his voice sounding sharp as it pierced through the thick silence that had settled over the room.

“It was—”

“It was real pretty, kid.”

You yelped in surprise at the sudden voice, jumping up to your feet as Beomgyu practically fell off the desk, nearly dropping his guitar in the process. You helped steady him, and together, you looked towards the door to see that it was wide open, fluorescent light from the hallway spilling into the room as the janitor stood in the entry way, arms crossed over his chest as he blew a bubble with the gum in his mouth.

“If you’re done serenading your girlfriend, would you mind leaving so I can clean up and go home? This building closed an hour ago, but if you both leave now I’ll keep quiet.”

Your cheeks went hot, and you struggled to form words as Beomgyu scrambled to put his guitar back in its case. “Girl—girlfriend? No, we’re not—I mean, I’m not his—we just got stuck and—”

“Thank you, sir. We’re really sorry.” Beomgyu cut you off as he picked up his guitar case with one hand and wrapped his free arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. You gasped, but were too stunned to do anything but follow Beomgyu’s lead as he pulled you out of the room.

“What was that about?” You asked once the two of you had safely made it out of the building. “You were not serenading me.”

Beomgyu shrugged, letting his arm fall from your shoulders. Your mouth fell open at his lack of a denial. “Choi Beomgyu! Stop messing around.”

“Who said I was messing around?” He teased, winking at you as he began to walk towards his dorm building, which was on the other side of campus from yours.

You scoffed but said nothing as you watched his back while he walked away from you, trying to piece together what had just happened.

“See you tomorrow, Y/N!” He shouted, turning around as he walked so he could wave goodbye.

You gave him a weak-hearted wave in return, pressing your hands against your flushed cheeks as you slowly began to tread back to your own dorm room.

How strange it was that just that morning, you would have given almost anything to avoid seeing Beomgyu.

But now, you found yourself counting down the minutes left until the next day so you could see him again.

WHEN YOU GOT BACK TO YOUR DORM FROM REHEARSAL THE NEXT EVENING, YOU HAD A TEXT.

Beomgyu: I know we said we were starting over, but I can’t forget that I still owe you a coffee. Meet me at the library in 15?

You felt like an idiot, but you couldn’t stop the grin from taking over your face. Slipping your shoes back on, you typed out a quick reply before slipping out the door.

You: Make it 5. I’ll be waiting.

When you arrived at the library, you were surprised to see that Beomgyu was already there. The line for coffee was very short, as most students had settled into their dorms for the night. Only a few stray overachievers and those that were desperately trying to cram for exams were there, and Beomgyu had claimed a place in line amongst them. He held his guitar in one hand, as per usual, and you wondered if there would ever come a time in which you would see him without it.

“How is it that you demanded to meet me ten minutes earlier than I planned, and I still got here before you?” He asked once you had reached him.

“First of all, I did not demand anything from you,” You said, pushing your fist against his shoulder. “Secondly, that is so unfair, because you know that your dorm is way closer to the library than mine is.”

“Sounds like an excuse to me, but okay. Ah, it’s our turn.” He placed his hand on the small of your back and pulled you closer to the counter. Your stomach flipped, but for some reason, you didn’t mind.

After the two of had gotten your coffees, Beomgyu told you to follow him up the stairs. You expected to stop at the second floor, but to your surprise, he kept leading you. He took you through a door in the back that you didn’t even know existed, where there was another flight of stairs. At the end of these stairs was another door. You stepped outside and found yourself on the rooftop, with a great view of the campus below.

“Are you sure we’re allowed to be up here?” You asked.

“Well, no. But I’ve come up here a lot and never gotten in trouble, so what’s the harm?”

“That does not make me feel any better.”

“Come on, Y/N.” He took your hand in his and brought you over to the wide ledge, big enough for the two of you to sit on without the fear of falling off. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

You paused, eyes growing wide. He stared back at you as he hoisted himself up on the ledge. He took a sip of his coffee before asking, “Why are you staring at me like that?”

You shook your head, setting your coffee beside of him before bringing yourself up to sit on the ledge yourself.

“Nothing,” You said. “You just reminded me of someone.”

“Ah.” He stared at you for a moment longer before he slipped his jacket off and wrapped it around your shoulders. You opened your mouth to protest, but he placed his finger against your parted lips, which was more than enough to shut you up.

“Just accept an act of kindness, would you?” He said, zipping his jacket up over you. You watched him as he did so, noticing the way his chocolate eyes sparkled in the midst of the cloudy night.

You swallowed, averting your gaze. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

It was quiet then, but not in an uncomfortable way. You enjoyed sitting beside of him in the silence, watching the lights of campus below you, feeling the warmth from his jacket spread over your chilled skin.

“Actually, Y/N, there’s something that’s been bothering me,” Beomgyu said, breaking the silence.

You turned to face him, curious. “What is it?”

For the first time since you had met him, Beomgyu looked nervous. He picked at the skin around his nails, doing everything he could to keep his eyes from meeting yours.

“Remember how you asked me if I sang? When we were locked in the orchestra room?” His voice was a bit quieter than it had been before.

“Yeah, you said you didn’t.”

“Right. Well, that—that was a lie,” He blurted, seeming to regret his words the second they had left his mouth. “Well, not a blatant lie, because I don’t sing anymore. But I used to.”

You were a bit confused, but seeing how nervous he was, you decided not to ask him why he would lie about such a seemingly trivial topic.

“What made you stop?” You asked carefully, not wanting to upset him.

He hesitated, wringing his hands together. After taking a deep breath, he spoke again.

“My father and I used to sing together,” He began. “I taught myself how to play the guitar, but he was the one who taught me how to sing. He loved to sing, more than anything else, and he always told me that I had a brilliant voice. He said it would be a shame to keep such a voice to myself.”

He smiled fondly as he spoke of his father, and you couldn’t help but smile as well. The joy slowly faded from his expression, however, as he began to speak again.

“I lost him two years ago,” He said quietly, voice thick with emotions that caused your heart to clench. “He was in a bad car accident. I was doing really well here, in vocals and guitar. But when I lost him, I just . . . I couldn’t sing anymore. I tried, I really did. I just couldn’t do it.”

“Oh, Beomgyu,” You whispered, gently placing your hand over his trembling one.

“It’s pathetic, isn’t it?” He sniffed, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “Singing was the one thing he wanted me to do, and now that he’s gone, I’m failing at it.”

“No, Beomgyu,” You said, your voice firm as you squeezed his hand. “It’s not pathetic at all. You’re doing the best you can, and you’re still here. And most importantly, you tried. That’s what matters.”

He brought his eyes back to yours then, glistening with moisture in the moonless, starless night. He smiled at you then, and you smiled back.

“Y/N.”

“Hm?”

“Have I told you yet that you’re really, really beautiful?”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you froze, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks. You were frozen for a moment before you scoffed, pulling your hand away from his and tucking it into your lap.

“I thought you were going to start being more serious,” You mumbled, refusing to look at him. “Stop messing around.”

Then, he moved closer to you, placing one arm behind you while he brought the other to rest against your cheek, gently turning your face towards his. He leaned in, so close that his breath brushed against your skin. He smelled of citrus and vanilla, and you found yourself leaning closer to him.

He glanced at your lips, then met your eyes once again.

“What makes you think I’m not being serious?”

His lips were soft when they pressed against yours, and it felt as though your heart would burst right out of your chest. You allowed your eyes to fall shut as he gently moved his mouth against yours, slowly tucking a piece of hair behind your ear as he did so, before allowing his fingers to gently trace their way along your cheek, then your jaw, until he rested his hand against your neck, pulling you a tiny bit closer to him.

He broke the kiss for a fleeting moment, just to open his eyes so he could look into yours. You liked the flecks of light that beamed in his irises, as though his eyes were made of starlight. He smiled, allowing his nose to brush against yours as his eyes moved back down to your lips. Once again, he closed the distance between you, capturing your lips with his for the second time. He tasted like coffee and cheap cherry chap-stick—and odd combination, but you didn’t mind as you brought your arms around his neck and shifted closer to him, twisting your head to the side as you moved your lips in time with his.

The moment was unexpected, to say the least. But perhaps that was what made it feel that much more magical.

At least, it was magical until you felt scalding hot liquid splash all over the side of your leg, seeping through the fabric of your jeans to burn your skin.

You gasped against Beomgyu’s lips before pulling away, staring wide eyed at your jeans that were now stained with coffee. Your cup, which had been sitting between the two of you, was now knocked on its side, the contents drained.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Beomgyu said frantically. His lips were shining from the aftermath of your kiss, his freckled cheeks and nose red as a cherry. He gently pressed his hands against your leg, pulling them back when you winced from the impact. “Oh god—I’m sorry, I forgot that it was there and I was leaning in and I knocked it over and—”

You laughed at how flustered he had become, amused by this side of him that you hadn’t seen before. You grabbed his face and pulled him towards you, pressing your lips against his in a swift kiss, effectively shutting him up.

“It’s okay, Beomgyu,” You said once you pulled away, letting your hands fall from his face. “I guess you just owe me another coffee.”

The goofy lopsided grin you had grown accustomed to took place of the frightened expression he had worn just moments before. He hopped off the ledge, extending his hand towards you to help you down.

“Come on, partner. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

IT WAS THE DAY OF THE OPEN HOUSE, AND YOU WERE SLIGHTLY UNNERVED BY HOW WELL THINGS WERE GOING.

You had hoped that everything would go smoothly. The past few weeks, you had spent all your time and energy making sure that the event would be as close to perfect as possible.

Well, you had also spent a bit of time with Beomgyu, but only when you had the time to spare, of course.

The performers were all setting up; the drama department was working on setting up the stage props, as they would be going first, and they were busy rehearsing with the orchestra for how they could effectively move the props to make room for the instruments in a timely fashion. Yeonjun was rushing about, directing them with the grace and efficiency only he could pull off.

Everything was going perfectly. You should have just been happy about that, but for some reason, it felt as though you were just waiting for something to go terribly wrong.

“Y/N.” You turned at the sound of Beomgyu’s voice, smiling as he walked towards you. He was dressed in a white button up shirt that he tucked into a pair of black jeans. His sleeves were pushed up a bit, exposing his forearms.

“Everything okay?” You asked once he had reached you. You glanced at the members of the band, who were talking in hushed voices right behind Beomgyu. Your eyes narrowed when you noticed that something was amiss. “Where’s Soobin? Is he on his way?”

Beomgyu sighed, running a hand through his already messy curls. “That’s what I was coming to talk to you about. He’s sick—he won’t be able to make it. I just got a text from him.”

You blinked slowly, trying to process what you had just been told. Soobin was the main vocalist for the band. Without him, or someone to fill his position, there would be no performance.

You quickly walked over to the band, desperately trying to think of something to fix the situation, and Beomgyu was following right behind you.

“Can any of you do lead vocals in Soobin’s place?” You asked.

“No,” the main guitarist said, looking just as stressed out as you were. “We’d have to change the entire key for it to fit my range, and even if we had time to do that—which we don’t—we wouldn’t have any backup vocals.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, squeezing your eyes shut. “There’s got to be something we can do to replace him. We can’t just take the band performance out.”

“How about Beomgyu?”

Your eyes flew open at the sound of Yeonjun’s voice, and you whirled around to see him standing behind you.

“When did you get there?” You asked.

“A minute or so ago,” He said, striding forward so that he stood on the other side of you. “But seriously, everyone knows Beomgyu can sing. He used to do it all the time. Why not have him take Soobin’s place?”

“It would make sense,” the guitarist said, his face lighting up with a glint of hope. “He’s been here for all the practices—I mean, he even wrote the song!”

You turned your eyes towards Beomgyu, worry overtaking you in an instant when you saw his expression. All the color had drained from his face, his lips pulled between his teeth. His hands were trembling, and he refused to meet your gaze.

“Beomgyu,” You said quietly, taking his shaky hand in your steady one. “You don’t have to. We can figure something else out—”

“I’ll think about it,” He said, eyes finally finding yours. He did his best to force a smile, but it was so strained, your worry only grew at the sight. “Just . . . can you give me a little while?”

You nodded, squeezing his hand. “Of course.”

He slipped away from you then, disappearing behind the stage. Your eyes followed him until you couldn’t see him any longer, worry creasing your brows.

“What was that about?” Yeonjun asked, stepping a bit closer to you. “I understand not wanting to force anyone to do something last minute, but we don’t really have many options.”

“There’s more to it than that,” You said quietly. “Just trust me, okay? And if he says he can’t do it, he can’t. We are not going to force him to do this.”

Yeonjun still looked confused, but he simply shrugged. “Whatever you say, captain. But just so you know, if he can’t do it, you’re gonna be the one singing in Soobin’s place. And trust me, no one wants to hear that.”

You fought the urge to flip him off as he walked away, wondering why on earth you still kept him around as your best friend.

The rest of the preparations went on, and soon, the audience had begun to fill the auditorium. You hadn’t seen Beomgyu since that moment during rehearsals, and you were beginning to grow worried.

You stood in the right wing of the stage as the show began with the drama department. You tried to focus on the performance—it was amazing, of course, especially since Yeonjun played a lead role in the scene they had chosen. Everyone knew he was an amazing actor. However, rather than being able to enjoy the show, you could only think about where Beomgyu was and wonder if he was doing alright, your stomach twisting itself into knots as the seconds ticked by.

By the time the drama students were finished, the audience standing to clap for their flawless performance, you had bitten your nails down to nubs as you grew increasingly worried. Yeonjun rushed over to you when he left the stage, smiling widely as he stretched his arms out to his sides. “How’d we do?”

“Hm?” You snapped out of your daze, shaking your head as you gave him two thumbs up. “Oh—wonderful. You guys were great. Hey, will you make sure everything goes well with the orchestra? I have to go find Beomgyu.”

“Well why don’t you stay here and I’ll go find him—”

“Nope, I’ve got it! Thanks best friend, you’re the greatest!” You gave him a quick hug before he could say anything else, quickly rushing out of the auditorium. You made your way down a few hallways, taking a couple of turns until you had reached one of the dressing rooms. You knew this was where Beomgyu had been getting ready because his guitar case was propped against the wall outside of it, so you hoped he was still inside.

You knocked on the door. “Beomgyu? Are you in there?”

It was silent, but you heard someone sniffle from behind the door. You sighed, leaning against the wood. “You don’t have to say anything, okay? But just hear me out.”

There was no response, but you could have sworn you felt someone leaning against the door from the other side.

“I know you may feel like you have to pressure yourself to do this, but you don’t,” You said gently. “Nobody is going to be disappointed if you can’t get up there to sing. Not me, not Yeonjun, not the band.”

You paused, biting your lip before you continued. “Your father wouldn’t be upset either, Beomgyu. The fact that you’re willing to even think about doing something this hard just to help out shows just how great of a person you are. He would be so, so proud of you. I’m proud of you, too. Whether or not you get up there and sing tonight, I’m proud of you. Okay?”

You stayed there, waiting in silence for a moment longer before you pushed away from the door, walking back towards the auditorium.

The orchestra was almost finished with their set by the time you returned to the wing. Yeonjun and the band were waiting with anticipation when you returned, eyes wide and searching behind you, probably hoping that Beomgyu was close behind.

“Is he coming?” Yeonjun asked.

You sighed, shaking your head slowly. “I don’t think so. We’ll just have to call off the band’s performance, but it’ll be okay—”

“That won’t be necessary.”

You turned at the sound of Beomgyu’s voice, unable to help the big smile that overtook your face. You hurried towards him, grabbing both his hands in your own.

“Are you sure?” You asked. “You know you don’t have to—”

“I know I don’t,” he said with a smile. “But I want to.”

He leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss against your forehead. “Thank you. For everything.”

He went up to talk to the band after that, leaving you a blushing mess. The orchestra had just finished their set and were busy making way for the band. Yeonjun walked to your side as Beomgyu and the rest of the band took their places on the stage.

“Did he just kiss you?” Your best friend asked. For some reason, he didn’t sound surprised.

Dumbfounded, you brought your hand to your forehead and nodded, unable to speak. Yeonjun laughed at you, causing you to snap out of your daze so you could punch him lightly in the shoulder.

Once the band had finished getting ready, Beomgyu cleared his throat, tapping the mic before leaning forward to speak into it.

“Hello everyone, thanks for coming out tonight. My name is Choi Beomgyu, and these lovely people surrounding me are some of the many talented musicians in our music department.” He paused when the audience clapped, waiting until the applause died down before he spoke again. “To wrap up this showcase, we’ll be performing a song I wrote myself. I wrote this about someone I met a long, long time ago.”

He turned his head to the side then, making eye contact with you from the stage. He smiled, not taking his gaze away from yours. He looked heavenly in the light cast from the spotlight, strands of his black hair seeming to turn silver beneath the glow, his golden skin shining brighter than ever. You were sure that if you were close enough, you would see the star-like sparkles in his eyes that you had grown to adore.

“I hope she remembers me, even after all this time.”

“Is he talking about you?” Yeonjun whispered into your ear, noticing the direction of Beomgyu’s stare. “You guys just met like, a month ago.”

You were just as confused as your best friend, so in response, you simply shrugged, unsure of what was going on. He was definitely talking to you, but you had no idea what he was referring to.

“I hope she remembers me, even after all this time.”

You racked your brain, trying desperately to think of what he could mean. Had you met him before? Did he remember you from somewhere, from a memory that had somehow slipped your mind?

The music began to play, and you took a step closer to the stage, eyes narrowed, ready to focus on the lyrics, wanting more than anything to remember what Beomgyu was talking about.

“In moments like those, when tears fill your eyes, hold my hand tight. Should we run away?”

Your eyes went wide. You stumbled back, reaching up to hold your head in your hands.

“Y/N?” Yeonjun’s voice was distant, overpowered by the sound of the honey sweet voice that filled the air. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

You gasped, hands tangling in your hair as the singing continued.

“Be my forever, call my name. Run away, run away, run away with me.”

Your head was ringing. Not only were these words the same ones you had heard in your head the night you were locked in the classroom with Beomgyu, but the voice—Beomgyu’s voice—was the same one you had heard day and night while growing up.

It was your soulmates voice.

You knew it was, not just because of the lyrics or the familiarity of the voice. You knew it was your soulmate because you didn’t just hear the words and the notes of the song, you felt them. Every inch of your being felt as though it had been struck by lightning. The voice filled up all of your senses, overpowering you in the most beautiful way imaginable.

But it was too much. His voice coming through the loudspeakers paired with it ringing inside your head built up so much pressure that it caused your vision to blur. You quickly stumbled out of the auditorium, fumbling your way through the front doors that led outside.

You sat down on the pavement, taking deep breaths as your mind began to calm down. No longer overwhelmed by all that was going on around you, you closed your eyes, listening to Beomgyu’s voice as it filled your mind.

“Don’t wanna stay, now we can go. Take me now to the magic named ‘us.’”

With those words, the voice died down, and you were surrounded by silence.

You simply sat there for several moments, your eyes remaining closed as you tried to understand everything that had just happened to you.

Beomgyu was your soulmate.

Beomgyu was your soulmate, and he was alive.

Bit by bit, you started to piece things together. The night of your thirteenth birthday, the day before you heard his voice for the first time. You had met the boy with sparkling eyes and a lopsided grin in the hotel parking lot. He had offered you his coat, and then his hand.

“I hope she remembers me,” Beomgyu had said.

You smiled to yourself, placing your hand over your heart as it beat fiercely against your chest.

“Yes, Beomgyu. I do remember you.”

“Y/N!”

Your eyes flew open at the sound of the door being thrown open behind you. You turned to see Beomgyu barreling towards you, practically collapsing to the ground in front of you. He took your face in his hands, eyes frantically searching yours.

“Are you okay?” He asked, his fingers gently running along the length of your cheeks.

You nodded, smiling even though tears began to pool in your eyes. “Beomgyu,” You said quietly, lifting your hands to hold his wrists. “You knew, didn’t you?”

“Knew what?”

“That you’re my soulmate.”

He paused, the worry in his face slowly being replaced by a wide, sparkling smile.

“So you finally figured it out, huh?” He said, brushing a strand of your hair back behind your ear. “If you didn’t figure it out after tonight, I wasn’t sure how else I was supposed to show you.”

You laughed, a tear slipping down your cheek as you tightened your grip on his wrists. His expression changed once again, brows knit with concern. “Are—are you crying? What’s wrong?”

“No, nothing, it’s fine,” You assured him, resting your forehead against his. “I’m just happy. I’m so, so happy, Beomgyu.”

He sighed with relief, wrapping his arms around you in a hug, pulling you snugly into his chest. His chin rested on top of your head as you slipped your arms around his middle, pulling him even closer than he already was.

“I was a little worried that you’d be disappointed when you found out it was me,” He said with a light laugh.

You shook your head against his chest, snuggling even closer to him. “Of course not. You’re exactly who I hoped it would be, Choi Beomgyu.”

The two of you stayed like that for a bit longer before Beomgyu pulled away and stood up in front of you.

The boy with stars for eyes and a smile that outshone the moon stretched his hand out towards you, fingers shaking from the cold, cheeks flushed from your embrace.

“Should we run away?” He asked.

This time, you placed your hand in his and let him pull you to your feet.

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study-coffee-chicago · 3 years

Text

Seasons of Med: Season 4 and Seasons of PD: Season 6: Of Loss and Letters (A Halstead Brothers + Halstead Sister! Imagine)

As always, I do not own any quotes from Chicago Med 4x02.

Y/N's age: 17

Jay's age: 31

Will's age: 33

You sat in your English 11 class and wrote and wrote an essay for your test. Your hand was starting to cramp. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw someone's phone light up from the phone caddy.

Yes, that's right. Your high school now had a phone caddy where students had to put their phones every class. Each student was assigned a number and then that's where they put their phone during that hour. Some teachers didn't care and let you keep it on you, but some did.

Your phone lit up again. You so desperately wanted to look at your watch that was connected to your phone, but you knew that doing so would look like you were cheating, so you decided against it. And, you turned your attention back to your test.

It lit up again and this time your teacher had had enough and stood up to grab your phone.

"Sorry to interrupt your tests," she started, "but how many times do I have to tell you guys to put your phones away with the screen facing the whiteboard. That way it's not dis--" She sucked in a breath as a text came across your screen. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw one word: hospital. And, this caused her to read the text. "Y/N, please come with me."

You stood up, utterly confused, and then left the room.

"Firstly, let me say I didn't try to read your texts. I just saw it out of the corner of my eye and...it's important."

You believed this teacher. She was young, pretty fresh out of college, and one time when you came in for a review session, she made all of you guys brownies to snack on while you worked.

She handed you your phone. It was a text from Jay.

Dad's in the hospital.

Your breath caught in your throat. Was it something with his heart? Had he started drinking again?

"Can I--"

"You can go, Y/N. I'll call the office and have someone bring your books down there after class so you can pick them up there when you come to school later. Drive safe."

"Thank you."

You practically sprinted down the hallway and to your locker as another text came in from Jay.

If you don't answer in the next ten minutes, I'm calling school to get you out.

You finished shoving stuff into your backpack and then started on your way to the office. You went to sign out when one of the secretaries stopped you.

"I've got it, hun. You just take care of yourself." Your teacher must've called down.

"Thank you," you choked out and then left the building, dialing Jay's number as you walked.

"Jay!" you exclaimed when he picked up on the first ring. "What happened to Dad? I was taking a test and then my phone started blowing up. Is he okay?"

"Y/N, there was a fire at his apartment. He's in the ED at Med. Will will fill you in more when you get here." You could tell by the tone of his voice that it wasn't good.

"Jay, you can't just tell me that! There's gotta be more!"

"Y/N, you're about to drive. You'll be at Med in twenty minutes. I don't need you to get in a car accident. Do you want me to stay on the phone with you?"

"Please." You got in your car and then turned your phone on speaker and started your car. "Can you tell me stories on my way there?" you asked Jay. "I need something else to focus on."

"Focus on the road."

"I mean listen to. I need something else to listen to."

"What kind of stories?" he asked.

"Can you tell me how Mom and Dad met?"

"You know how they met: it was at a White Sox game. Dad saw Mom stand up to buy some popcorn and said he fell in love with her at first sight. He must not have been a pain in the ass then. And, his favorite pastime probably wasn't yelling at people like it is now. Probably smiled more, too."

"Technically, he doesn't yell at me," you said. "Except when he was drunk before you started taking care of me and he finished the twelve steps."

"Oh, right. I forgot. I'm his favorite person to yell at," Jay said sarcastically. "He wasn't always an ass, though. He was actually excited to have a daughter at first. And then, his asshole buddies in construction changed his mind and made him think that women weren't his equals."

"Dicks," you muttered. "What did you and Will do when you found out that Mom was going to have me? Were you mad you weren't going to be the youngest anymore?"

"Nah, I was happy I'd have someone to pick on like Will picked on me."

"Hey!"

"Obviously I didn't follow through with that line of reasoning," he laughed. "Mom was telling us how we'd have to play tea parties with you and all that girly stuff. Me and Will obviously weren't too thrilled about that."

"Well, you're lucky I'm not a girly-girl then and didn't really play tea parties."

"That's because I taught you how to kick a soccer ball the minute you could walk. Shocked you didn't play that in middle school and now in high school," he added.

"I'm not competitive enough for that."

"Oh, believe me, we know. That's why you didn't play goalie: because one game you were goalie, you just sat down in the goal and started playing with the grass."

"Goalie was boring. And, you don't get a break; you don't get to sub-in. My favorite part of kiddie soccer was the snacks and juice boxes at the end."

"Don't forget those few times you scored goals during the games," Jay pointed out.

"Yeah, I guess that part was kinda fun."

"See? You had fun."

"Not really. But, I'm pulling into Med now. I'll gonna park and then I'll be in the ED."

"Okay, make sure you remember where you parked."

"Don't worry, I will."

You parked and then made your way into the ED waiting room.

"Miss, I'm going to need you to take a seat and wait to be seen," a nurse you didn't recognize said.

"Oh, no," you started. "I'm not hurt. It's my dad. He was in the fire and my brother called." You looked down at your feet, finally realizing the gravity of the situation. "My brother called and said he's in the ED. Um, one of my brothers is Dr. Will Halstead."

"Oh, I'm sorry, honey. Go right on in." She gave you a sympathetic look.

"Thank you."

You hustled into the ED and looked for Maggie or one of your brothers. You spotted Maggie first.

"Maggie where's--"

"Your dad's in Treatment One." She pointed you in the direction of the room and you made your way over there.

You entered the room at the same time as Dr. Rhodes. "You guys wanna fill her in?"

"What's going on?" you asked, worry evident in your voice.

Your dad started coughing and spit some bile into a bin, causing you to wrinkle your nose in disgust.

"Dad tried to play hero," Jay started to explain, "He forgot he was in his 60s with a bum ticker."

"Yeah, well, this is your fault to begin with," Pat Halstead said.

"Me?" Jay asked.

"Yeah, you stuck me in that fire trap."

"Please, can you two just not fight for once?" you complained.

"Pop, stop talking," Will urged.

Dr. Rhodes started doing an EKG and then ordered some tests, finally shutting your dad up...and saving you from another argument between Jay and your dad. Then, after he was done, he got called out to consult for Dr. Choi.

"I don't need all this," your dad complained once Dr. Rhodes had left the room.

"Calm down," Jay told him rudely. "You're getting yourself all worked up."

"What do you know? You're no doctor."

"Dad," you said.

"You had no right to sell my house!"

"You wanna talk about this again?" Jay practically yelled. "It was a wreck. You couldn't take care of the place."

"You just wanted my money!"

"Hey!" Will yelled, but it didn't stop the two...nothing ever did.

"You don't have any money you thankless old prick!" Jay yelled and then started to walk out.

"Jay!" Will yelled as you started to follow him out, hoping to calm him down. "Y/N, stay here," Will told you.

"Why?"

"I know you're gonna try to calm him down, but he needs to cool off by himself right now."

You huffed. "Fine." You turned back to your dad. "I don't think he really meant it. He was mad. Both of you say things you don't mean when you're angry. You two are a lot alike that way. Like when you said he wasn't a son of yours."

"Yeah, you should apologize for that one," Will agreed.

"Not until he apologizes for what he just said to me. Only then will I--"

Alarms started sounding and lights starting flashing. Will hit a button on the wall and two nurses rushed in.

"Will, what's happening?" you screamed. "What's happening to Dad?"

Will lowered the bed and then put his fingers to your dad's neck. "No pulse. Bag him."

"Wait, he's your dad," a nurse, who you recognized as Monique, said. "Shouldn't another doctor run the code?"

"You got one handy?" Will asked as he started chest compressions.

"Will, what's happening?" Jay asked as he re-entered the room.

"Jay, I need you to take Y/N out of here. Now."

"No, I wanna stay. What's going on?"

"Jay, now," Will stated again.

Jay placed on hand on your back. "Y/N, c'mon."

The alarms were still sounding, the lights still flashing.

"No!" you yelled.

"Y/N, I need room in here," Will told you. "The best thing you can do for Dad is to leave this room."

"No! I wanna stay!" you yelled again.

Jay looked at Will and he nodded. Then, you felt yourself being lifted off the ground by Jay.

"Put me down! Put me down!" You started kicking and swinging your arms, but he didn't budge. "Let me go back in there!"

Once safely out of the room--and having drawn the attention of most people in the ED--did Jay finally put you down. You tried to run back towards the treatment room, but Jay scooped you back up.

"Nope. We're going outside," Jay told you.

"Fine. But, once we're out there, I'm not walking with you."

You crossed your arms in frustration. After that little stunt he pulled back there, there was nothing he could say that made you want to be around him.

"That's fine. Just keep your phone on you."

***

As you kept walking down the sidewalk to the right--Jay had went left as soon as you walked outside because you didn't want to be around him--you spotted none other than Kelly Severide sitting on a bench, looking like he was currently throwing himself a pity party.

"Hey," you said as you walked up to him.

"Y/N? what are you doing out here?" he asked as he looked up.

"I could ask you the same thing."

"Well, have a seat. You look like you've been crying."

"So do you," you pointed out.

"Stella's in the ED," he admitted. "She had a nasty inhalation injury. They uh, they might not be able to save her lung...which means she wouldn't be able to be a firefighter anymore." He looked back down.

"I'm sorry, Kelly. But, Stella's a fighter."

"Yeah, I know. She left home when she was eighteen and she didn't have the best home life before that either."

"She told me."

"She told you?" he asked, looking back up at you.

"Yeah, when she helped me get ready for homecoming, she told me that she gets it. She gets what it's like not having a mom to help you get ready for dances."

"Dude, we have a problem," Will said through the phone to Jay.

"Which is...?" Jay asked.

"Nat got called in. We don't have anyone to help Y/N get ready for the dance."

"Shit," Jay cursed. "Yeah, that really is a problem. Let me make some calls."

Jay hung up the phone with Will and then scrolled through his contacts. He thought about asking Hailey, but he wasn't super close with her yet, so she was off the table.

Then it hit him: Stella.

But he didn't have her number.

But he had Kelly's.

"Please don't be on shift, please don't be on shift," he muttered as the line started ringing.

"Hey, Halstead," Kelly answered.

"Hey, man. Listen, I've got a huge favor to ask you. Well, actually, it's more you asking Stella for the favor."

"What do you want me to ask her? She's right here."

"Well, it's Y/N's homecoming dance tonight and Nat was gonna come over and help her get ready and she got called into work. I was wondering if maybe Stella could come over and help Y/N out."

"Okay, I'll ask her."

He heard mumbling which he guessed was Kelly talking to Stella. "I'm gonna put her on," Kelly said after a minute.

"Okay."

"Hey, Jay," Stella said into Kelly's phone.

"Hey, Stella. Kelly explain everything to you?" Jay asked.

"He did. I'll be over there in an hour. Unless you need me sooner, then I can make it half an hour."

"An hour works great. Thank you so much. You're a lifesaver, really."

***

Jay had left to run to the store and had told you that Stella would be there in an hour. So, when someone knocked on your apartment door twenty minutes later, you were utterly confused.

You got up from the couch and looked through the peephole in your apartment door, seeing none other than frick and frack...otherwise known as Adam and Kevin.

"What are you two doing here?" you asked as you opened the door. "If you're looking for Jay, he went out to run some errands."

"No, we're actually here to see you," Kevin said.

"Me?"

"Yeah," Adam confirmed. "Aren't you supposed to be in a dress or something?"

"I'll put it on after Stella dose my hair," you told them. "Sorry, c'mon in."

The two entered the apartment, but you were still confused as to why they were here, and why they were here for you and not your brother.

"I guess we can teach her like this," Adam said.

"Might be better, too," Kevin started. "That way she won't rip her dress when we're first teaching her."

"Uh, excuse me. Right here, guys. What are you planning on teaching me?" you asked, annoyed that they were talking about you like you weren't even there.

"We are here, little Y/N, to teach you how to fight," Adam answered.

"First of all, don't ever call me little Y/N again. Second of all, no you're not. What's the real reason you're here?"

"That's it," Adam laughed.

You raised an eyebrow, so Kevin decided that he needed to clarify. "It's just for self-defense. Just in case a horny teenage boy comes up to you and starts grinding on you at the dance, so you'll know what to do."

You were still skeptical about this, but they did have a good point. You had to give them that.

"Okay, so what do I do? And, did Jay put you two up to this?" you asked.

"He didn't," Adam answered. "We came of our own free will. First thing you need to know about throwing a punch is doing it with a closed fist." You closed your fist. "Perfect. Now, when you throw the punch, make sure your arm is locked out."

You did as he said and your punch was a little flimsy, but you worked on it.

***

"Is this the right color you think? I tried my best," Jay said as he met Stella in the elevator on their way up to his apartment. He pulled out a sparkly black bottle of nail polish. Stella had asked if your nails were done, and when he said no, she asked if he could pick up some nail polish while she packed up all her hair stuff and makeup to help you get ready. He had reluctantly agreed. By looking at the picture of your dress he had on his phone--it was a two-piece dress where the skirt portion was long enough that it covered your belly. The skirt was white with a floral design and the top was black with sequins--and used that to figure out what color nail polish to pick. Stella told him to keep it simple, so he just picked up a black bottle with some sparkles.

"Perfect!" Stella exclaimed as she looked at the color.

They got off the elevator and then walked to your and Jay's apartment. When Jay opened the door, he was met with one of the weirdest sights he had seen in his life: Adam was rolling around on the floor in what looked to be pain and you were jumping up and down and celebrating and then giving Kevin a high five.

"What happened here?" Jay asked.

"Oh, hey bro," Kevin said.

"Hey, Jay," Adam gritted out from his spot on the floor.

"We were teaching Y/N self-defense in case someone grinds on her at the dance," Kevin supplied. "And, we got to the kneeing part."

"So, she kneed him where the sun don't shine?" Jay laughed.

"Yeah," Kevin confirmed.

"Good job, Y/N. Adam, I'll get you ice and a beer. Kev, you want one?" Kevin nodded and Jay handed the small bag containing the nail polish to Stella.

"So, here's the deal," Stella started. "Natalie got called into work, so you're stuck with me helping you get ready. I've got some nail polish that your brother so generously went out and picked up for you, a straightener, a curling iron, tons of bobby pins and little hair ties, and tons of makeup. Just tell me what you want and we'll get the ball rolling."

You helped Adam up off the ground and then started towards your room, Stella following close behind.

***

"You know, I never had a mom to help me with this kind of stuff either," Stella confessed as she was twisting your hair.

"You didn't?" you asked. "Who helped you?"

"My mom was in and out of my life in high school, so usually one of the nice neighbor ladies helped me with my hair. The makeup was all me."

"So, you know how it is. I feel like it's harder for me than for Will and Jay because they both had Mom for over twenty years. I only had her for nine."

"Well, if you ever wanna talk about girl stuff, I'm your girl. Now, anyone special you wanna dance with? Or are meeting him at the dance?" Stella asked.

"Well, there is someone." You blushed.

"Girl," she dropped your hair. "You can't just leave me hanging like that. Who is it?"

"His name's Caleb. He's really good friends with my friend, Andrea." Stella knew who this was. She knew that you had saved her life during the shooting half a year ago. "He's really cute. Tall, Brown hair. Blue eyes. One of the star players on the football team," you told her wistfully.

"Ooh, you got it bad," Stella laughed.

"I got what bad?"

"Your crush on this Caleb kid. You are crushing on him so hard, Y/N. Can't say I blame you. The popular kid is always the way to go...as long as he's not a douche."

"He's actually not. He's actually really nice."

"Well, does Caleb have a date to the dance?" Stella asked.

You sighed. "He does. Her name's Sasha and she's a total bitch. Excuse my French."

"Well, I'm gonna let you in on a little secret: sooner or later, the dude sees his girl's true colors."

"I, uh, I thought about asking him to dance. I remember Jay saying when I was like four and he was going to his senior prom, that if he wasn't dating Allie and a girl asked him to dance, that he'd dance with her because it takes guts to ask someone to dance. But, since Caleb's got a date, that probably won't happen."

"Hey, if he's dancing solo and a slow song comes on, you gotta ask him to dance. Shoot your shot, girl."

"You're right. I'm gonna ask him to dance. I will ask Caleb to dance."

"That's the spirit! Now, we gotta get you looking extra hot so he falls in love with you when he's staring into your eyes while you two are slow dancing the night away."

You laughed and Stella returned to your hair.

***

Later that night, a slow song came on and Sasha was nowhere to be seen with Caleb. But, he was on the dance floor, near the back wall, all by himself. So, you asked him to dance. He said yes, and after, he even gave you a hug. Best dance of your high school career so far.

After you texted Andrea to tell her that you danced with Caleb because you had no idea where she was, the next person you texted was Stella. You knew she'd be hella excited for you.

You crushed on Caleb for a few months after that. But, then he got a new girlfriend and ended up cheating on her with not one, but two different girls. Needless to say, your crush on him died the second you found out this information.

"She loves you, you know," you said to Kelly.

"She told you this?" he asked.

"She didn't have to. Every time Stella sees you, or even when she talks to you, her face lights up."

"She's good for me. That's for sure."

You paused. You knew Kelly didn't have the best relationship with his dad and neither did Jay, Will, or even you. You also knew his dad had died a few months ago, around October and it was currently February. "Did you ever get mad at yourself?" you asked.

"About what?"

"When your dad died. You knew he wasn't the best person, but you were still sad."

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I don't understand where you're going with this," Kelly apologized.

"I know my dad wasn't the best person, hell he was neglectful and unfit to be a parent, still is. So, why do me and my brothers still see him? Why do I still feel sad and scared that he might die?" you asked. You knew this was something you should be asking your school counselor--you had started seeing her a lot this past year because of the shooting--but Kelly was here now. And, maybe he'd understand because he didn't have a very good dad either.

"It's because you remember how he used to be," Kelly said. "You, Jay, and Will all remember when he was a better person. When Benny died, I didn't feel like I was grieving current Benny. I was more grieving for the Benny I knew when I was five years old when he was a good dad. And, I never gave up hope that he'd become a better father as I grew up. When he died, I knew it would never happen. You're grieving the dad you used to know and the hope you might lose of him becoming a better man."

You nodded because you really had no idea what to say. You thought Kelly was right; maybe that was the reason why you were sad and fearful about the possibility of your dad dying. You two sat in silence after that, finding comfort in each other's presence, each hoping for the best, but trying to prepare yourself for the worst.

***

You walked into the ED, to be met with Jay storming out and Will quickly following after him. You ran after them.

When they finally stopped, you made your presence known. "Okay, someone wanna tell me what the hell's going on?"

"Dad's brain dead and Will, Will doesn't want a second opinion and just wants to let Dad die," Jay spat.

"A- Are you sure he's brain dead? Maybe you read it wrong?" you asked. There had to have been some kind of mistake. Your dad couldn't be brain dead; he couldn't be a vegetable.

"Y/N, I know this is a lot of information to take in, but the EEG, the thing that reads brain waves, showed that Dad's brain dead. Dr. Abrams read it and he's our top neurosurgeon."

"I still want a second opinion," Jay restated.

"Abrams is our top neurosurgeon, Jay. The opinion doesn't get any better than that," Will told him.

Jay scoffed. "So all your degrees, all that money, all those years in school, this is the best you can do?"

"Jay, Dad almost died two years ago. He's been living on borrowed time."

"Abrams didn't say Dad had no chance!" Jay protested.

"One thousand to one is no chance."

"So you just want to give up?" Jay clenched his fists at his side.

"I've seen a lot of patients in his condition--"

"There goes that doctor voice."

"I'm sorry, but I am a doctor," Will retorted.

Jay scoffed. "Yeah, we got that message. And Dad knew you thought you were better than us. We always came in second. Hell, Y/N came in second because you were away at med school! Who was looking after her when Mom was dying? Me and Dad. Who took her in because Dad's a shitty parent? Me. You weren't there, and now you wanna decide what happens to Dad?" He stepped closer to Will.

Will took a step closer to Jay as well. "You know that's not true, Jay."

"Yes, it is!"

Will opened his mouth and started to say something, but you weren't listening, you were too busy stepping between your brothers because you sensed a fight about to break out.

"Enough!" you yelled. Both Will and Jay looked down at you, shocked at your outburst. "Dad's fucking dying in there and you're fighting about old shit! Don't you see that it doesn't matter? Do you really want to spend your last moments with Dad fighting? Because I sure as hell don't."

Then, you moved away from them and made your way to the bathroom before you started bawling. You really didn't want to do that in front of the other people milling around the hospital.

Jay sighed and put his hands behind his head as he watched you walk off towards the bathroom.

"I never thought I'd say this," Will started, "but she's right. We can't be fighting right now."

"Yeah, I guess we shouldn't be doing that," Jay said. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I know you didn't mean it."

"Guess me and Dad really are alike. Stubborn and quick to yell things we don't mean."

"I'm pretty sure all of us got the stubborn gene, even Y/N."

Then, The COO of the hospital, who Will introduced as Ms. Garrett walked up to them and told them that they had the full support and all the resources that the hospital had available to help their dad. This didn't seem like her at all, so Will excused himself to go talk to Ms. Goodwin. And, Jay figured this was as good a time as any to see how you were doing, as he hadn't seen you leave the bathroom yet.

***

Jay popped his head into the bathroom and since he only saw one stall in use and saw your shoes in that one, he entered the bathroom and locked the door.

He heard a sniffle. "Short Stack? You okay?" He paused, mentally kicking himself. "Stupid question, of course, you're not okay. I know you're in here," Jay said gently.

"Go away," you said through your tears.

"Y/N, you know I can't do that."

"I just wanna be alone...and for you and Will to stop fighting."

"We made up. Me and Will are fine. Can you please come out?"

You swallowed and frantically wiped your tears away and the snot that ran from your nose. Then, you walked out of the stall and immediately over to Jay and hugged him. "I'm sorry," you mumbled into his brown jacket. "I'm sorry for yelling and swearing. I just wanted you guys- I just wanted you guys to stop."

"I know, I know. Neither of us is mad at you. You had every right to be pissed at us."

"It's just- It's just... nevermind. It's stupid."

"Y/N, it's not stupid. Just tell me. I promise I won't laugh."

"You promise?"

"I promise," he confirmed.

You sighed. "I didn't get as much time with Mom as you two did and now I'm not getting as much time with Dad. You guys had both of them--" You drew in a shaky breath. "You guys had both of them at your high school graduations. I won't have that. I won't have that, Jay."

And that's when you crumbled and you just sobbed into Jay's jacket. When you were nine, you never really comprehended the number of things your mom wouldn't be there for, like your first high school dance, your first date, your first kiss, your high school graduation, your college graduation(s), your wedding, your possibly having a kid and her possibly having grandkids. Granted, your dad wasn't the best dad or even the best man in general, but now you'd have neither parent at any of those things, at any of those milestones.

Jay just held you as you continued to sob about all the things your parents wouldn't be there for, holding you just as your mom would hold him whenever he cried when he was younger.

***

You and Jay sat next to each other by your dad's bedside, the sounds of the vent that was currently keeping him alive were the only sounds that could be heard. Will came in and motioned for Jay to meet him outside the room.

"Be right back." He placed a hand on your shoulder.

"Be right outside," Will promised.

Outside of the room, Will explained that the reason Gwen Garrett wanted to keep your dad alive was that his bypass was 29 days ago. And that she just wants to keep your dad alive for one more day just so the hospital didn't take a hit.

"You think Dad would want this?" Will asked. "To stay alive just to buff some numbers?"

"No, no he wouldn't. But, me and Y/N talked while you tried to figure out what that Garrett lady wanted. Uh, Y/N didn't get as much time as we did with Mom and now she's getting less time than we are with Dad."

"Because she's a lot younger than us. What are you trying to say, Jay?" Will asked.

"I think Y/N should decide. She should decide whether or not we keep Dad on the vent because she had the least amount of time with him. She should get to decide whether or not she gets more time with him."

"Jay, I'm not trying to argue with you, but do you really think that's a good idea? Her decision could cause her a lot of trauma down the road if she ends up thinking she made the wrong choice in the future," Will pointed out.

"We could tell her our opinions and what we want, but tell her that ultimately, she gets to make the final decision. That way, she doesn't feel like it's totally on her," Jay suggested.

"And if she doesn't want to make that big of a decision?"

"We decide between ourselves."

Will sighed. Jay did make a good point. "Fine. But if she feels like shit for months, I'm blaming you."

"Add you to the list of people blaming me for bad shit in their lives."

"Are you lumping me together with criminals you put away?"

"Basically."

Will and Jay re-entered the room. "Why does it feel like he's squeezing my hand?" you asked.

Will sighed. He didn't want to crush your hope of your dad coming back, even though he knew it wouldn't happen, but he also knew that he couldn't give you false hope; he knew he needed to explain this to you.

"Those are just reflexes," Will answered. "I'm sorry, Short Stack, but they don't mean anything."

"They don't? He doesn't know I'm here?" You sniffled.

"He doesn't know," Will confirmed.

You nodded and continued to hold your dad's hand.

"Y/N, we have something to tell you," Jay started. You tore your eyes away from your dad and up to your brothers. "Me and Will decided that you should decide whether we keep Dad on the vent because you got the least amount of time with him."

"You- you guys want me to decide whether Dad lives or dies?" you asked.

Will nodded. "If you don't want to, me and Jay can decide between ourselves, but you can still tell us what you'd prefer. If you want to decide, we can let you do that. Or, if you want our opinions before you decide, that's fine, too."

"What do you guys think? I don't want to decide all by myself," you practically whispered.

And so, they explained to you how Garrett just wanted to keep your dad alive for one more day just to buff some numbers and how they didn't think he'd want to be alive just to do that, just to save the hospital from liability.

You also knew that there were one thousand to one odds against your dad coming back and that those weren't odds at all. He'd need a miracle. And, if there was one thing you knew about your dad, it was that he didn't believe in miracles. He believed in hard work, not miracles.

It was for these reasons that you said what you said next: "Let him go."

***

"Just when I thought you couldn't get any dumber," Will started when you and Jay arrived at your dad's apartment a few days later to go through his stuff. Surprisingly, most of it had been spared during the fire. "You went after the person responsible for the fire, didn't tell anyone, and ended up getting shot."

"You got shot?" you yelled as you walked in.

"Nice going, man. She didn't know," Jay said, annoyed. He turned to you. "It hit the vest. I'm totally fine. I just have some bruising on my chest. Nothing to worry about."

"And you two tell me to be careful," you mumbled. "I should be telling you that."

"It's no use, Y/N," Will said. "I tell him all the time. He just never listens."

"You know you're not a cat, right Jay? You don't have nine lives."

Jay rolled his eyes. "Where are we starting?"

***

Jay looked down at the pictures he was going through. He always thought that his dad didn't make it to his police academy graduation. But, the photo in front of him proved him wrong: there, in his hand, was a picture that his dad took of him on stage, getting his badge pinned to his chest when he had graduated from the police academy with the date written on the back.

He put a hand over his mouth to stifle his sobs and keep you and Will from hearing them. But, he didn't know you were on your way to find him.

"Jay, Will's wondering if you want us to order pizza? You good with--" You stopped talking when you saw Jay sitting on the floor, staring at a photo with silent tears streaming down his face. "What's wrong?" You knelt down next to him.

Jay frantically wiped his tears away using the hand that wasn't holding the photo. "Sorry, yeah, tell Will he can order pizza."

"Jay," you said sternly. "What's wrong? And, don't you dare say nothing. Because you wouldn't let me say nothing, you'd bug me until I told you. So, if you don't tell me, I'm going to keep bugging you about it, just like you'd do to me."

Jay chuckled. "I really screwed myself over by using that parenting tactic, didn't I?"

"Yeah, you did. Now, what's wrong?"

Jay sighed. The Halstead stubbornness was starting to show more and more now that you had been living with him. And, because of this, Jay knew that you wouldn't let up.

"I always thought Dad never went to my graduation from the academy." He set the picture on the floor between you guys. "But he did."

You furrowed your eyebrows. "You didn't know that?"

"Why would I? Did you know?" he asked, turning to look at you.

"Yeah. He had to leave early because he had to make sure he was home when I got home from school. That's why he couldn't congratulate you after. He never told you?"

"No, he didn't."

"You know the first thing he said to me when I walked inside?" Jay shook his head. "He said: your brother's a Chicago police officer. I'm proud of him. And your mother would be, too."

"He- he said that?" Jay asked, getting choked up once more.

"He did. He might not have said it, but he was so proud of you, Jay. So proud."

***

Will opened a cabinet to grab some paper plates for you three to eat your pizza off of. As he was grabbing them, his hand brushed up against something leaning up against the back wall of the inside of the cabinet. It wasn't one something, but multiple somethings. He furrowed his eyebrows and took out the entire stack of paper plates, causing the multiple somethings to fall to where the paper plates had previously been. Then, he took the mystery things out of the cabinet.

He gasped when he read the first one.

In his hand, he held six letters, two addressed to each of you, one from your mom and one from your dad.

"Will, what's taking so long?" Jay asked as he flipped open the pizza box. "Food's getting cold."

"I think the pizza's gonna have to wait, guys." Instead of grabbing the plates and bringing them to the table, he brought the letters instead.

"Those don't look like plates to me," Jay pointed out.

"Because they're not." He set the pile of letters on the table. "They're letters. Addressed to each of us."

"But, that's Mom's handwriting," Jay said, flabbergasted.

"What do they say?" you asked.

"Only one way to find out," Will said and reached for the two addressed to him.

You and Jay did the same.

You swore you could hear a pin drop as each of you slowly ripped opened the yellowing envelopes. The seals were easy to open because, since they had been sealed for so long, some of the stickiness was gone.

Will first started with the one from his dad.

Dear William,

I know I said a real man goes right to work. And, I know I was mad at you for doing what you wanted to do and becoming a doctor. But, I guess I just have to think of med school as on the job training...that you pay a ton of money for. You will never hear me say this out loud to you because you know as well as I do that I am as stubborn as they come and I hate admitting I was wrong. But, you did good, kid. Both you and Jay did.

I'll keep this short because, if you're reading this, that means I'm gone and I'm assuming you, Jay, and Y/N are busy with the arrangements. But, just know that even though I don't say it a lot, I love you and I'm proud of you, son.

Love, your father,

Pat Halstead.

Will wiped below his eyes. His dad did say he was proud of him when he was out of surgery two years ago. And, Connor had told him everything his dad had said about him before he went under the anesthesia. But, it was nice to have that in writing because it would be there forever.

It was like all three of you had the same idea to open the letter from your dad first. Your logic was that you figured your mom's would make you cry more, so you figured you'd open that last.

Jay fought to keep his eyes dry as he read the letter from his dad. He regretted the last words he had said to him, now more than ever.

Dear Jayson,

I know you think I hated you for going into the military straight out of high school. But, I didn't. I was just scared, scared I was going to lose you. One thing you don't know is that I tell everyone I work with that you're a war veteran. I love bragging about you and telling people about your accomplishments. They always say I should be so proud of you. And, I'm sorry I never tell you that, but I am proud of you, really proud of you. You fought for our country and saved countless lives over there. Just keep saving the innocent, Jay. That's what you seem to do best...and fight against the people who tell you that you can't do it, just like how you fought against me when I told you not to join the military.

I'll keep this short because if you're reading this, that means I'm gone. But, always remember that I am so proud of you and that I love you so much.

Love, your father,

Pat Halstead.

His dad was proud of him. And now he had a reason as to why his dad didn't want him to join the military: he was scared. And, Jay told himself that if he had his own kids, he'd probably do the same thing because he had seen the horrors of battle and he wouldn't want any of his kids to go through that.

Finally, you read yours. And, as you read it, you were crying more than your brothers. You really didn't care, though.

To my daughter,

As I am writing this, you are nine years old and want to be a doctor. I don't know how that will pan out or if you'll change your mind on what you want to do. But, I am here to tell you, don't let anyone or anything stand in your way of what you want to be. Don't let Will stand in your way and don't stand in his shadow if you become a doctor. Strive to be better than him. Compete with each other if you end up going into the medical field; a little friendly competition never hurt anyone. Be smart and keep your brothers in line because Lord knows they're both as stubborn and as reckless as they come.

Love, your father,

Pat Halstead.

So, Jay was right: Dad wasn't always a sexist pig. And, Kelly was right as well: you missed your old Dad, the one who believed you could do anything, not the one who you knew when you were 13 to now, who was drunk, unfit to parent, and sexist as hell.

Then, Will opened the letter from his Mom.

To my first baby, Will,

First of all, let me say that I love you so much, more than you can ever imagine. I know you'll be a great doctor. Just, be smart, and try to be a little less stubborn because I'm assuming you're going to have to work with other doctors. Find it in you to compromise. I don't know what to say in this because me and your dad agreed that you and Jay and Y/N will get these letters when he's passed as well, so I don't know how far into the future you'll be seeing this. So, I figured I'd leave you with some life tips.

Mom's life tips to Will:

1. Never, ever lay your hands on or disrespect a woman. If you do, I will come down from heaven and smite you myself. This goes for Jay, too.

2. Make sure you help your girlfriend or wife with the household chores, like cleaning and cooking. You never leave all it to her. Again, same goes for Jay.

3. I'm sorry to say this, but never grow out a long beard. You have red hair and if you grow out a beard, you'll look like an overgrown leprechaun. Sorry, sweetheart.

Love,

Mom (Amelia Halstead).

PS. In this envelope you will find $500. This is to help you with med school loans, malpractice insurance, or if you're reading this way into the future, to help you with bills, and your own little family.

Will let out a small chuckle as he read the last life tip. And, thankfully, he had never decided to grow out his beard. And now he never would.

Jay looked down at his mom's loopy cursive handwriting and began to read.

To Jay, my second baby,

First of all, I love you more than you can ever imagine. And I am so, so proud of you for choosing to serve your country. I don't know whether you'll decide to stay in or leave the rangers, but I'm sure you'll be amazing at whatever it is you choose to pursue. And Jay, please keep in mind that you only have one life. Don't be crazy and reckless out there. I don't think you will be, but I'm just reminding you because I'm your mom and that's what moms do, they nag you and they worry about you no matter what. And, if you're reading this, that means your dad has passed away as well. Don't take this the wrong way, but please go see a therapist. You've fought in a war and seen terrible things overseas (I know because you once had a nightmare at home. I just didn't tell you that I knew this) and you've lost both of your parents. You should talk to a professional, sweetheart. But, always remember that I will be with you when your nightmares get rough. And, if Y/N wants to follow in your footsteps and go into the military, talk to her about it, but don't fight her on it like Dad did to you. Finally, I will leave you with some life tips.

Mom's life tips for Jay:

1. Never, ever lay your hands on or disrespect a woman. If you do, I will come down from heaven and smite you myself. I already wrote this in Will's letter as well.

2. Make sure you help your girlfriend or wife with the household chores, like cleaning and cooking. You never leave all it to her. Again, this is in Will's letter, too.

3. I know you want to save everyone, Jay. And, you have a big heart, but you also take things personally. Just know that you can't save everyone and that is okay. Be kind to yourself and think of all the people you did save as opposed to those who you couldn't. It's okay to grieve for them, but don't let your grief last forever.

Love,

Mom (Amelia Halstead).

PS. Also in this envelope is $500. Use it towards therapy. But, if you already made the leap to go to therapy, one I am proud of you, and two, use it for something else. Donate it to veterans in need maybe. Or, use it to help pay off loans if you decided to go to college if you ended up leaving the military. Or, if you're reading this way in the future, use this money to help with bills and your own little family.

Maybe Jay would start therapy again now. He had gone a while ago, but after his meds stabilized his nightmares again, he stopped going. Maybe he'll go again because as he always said, his mom was a smart lady.

You were ugly crying as you opened the envelope and read the first few words that your mom had written.

To my baby girl,

Y/N, I love you so much and you will always be my baby girl no matter how old you get. I know I only got nine years with you, but know that I will always be with you in your heart no matter where you are. I was so excited when I found out I was having a girl and I'm so sorry we didn't get as much time on earth together as we should have. Continue doing what you love. Don't let your brothers take Beary from you. And, don't take no for answer when someone tells you that you can't do something just because you're a girl. Us girls are strong. As for the future, sweetheart, you have the kindest little personality right now. Never lose that. But, at the same time, don't let anyone take advantage of that. Stand up for yourself and stand up for others in need. I am going to leave you with more life tips than I left your brothers because they're older and should know a few more things than you at the moment...and they aren't girls.

Mom's life tips for Y/N:

1. And, don't laugh at this, but it works. When shaving down there, apply deodorant down there after. It helps to keep razor bumps and itchiness at a minimum.

2. Don't go for the first man that says I love you. You need to make mistakes before you fall truly and madly in love.

3. Girls can be cruel in middle school and high school. It's okay if you only have one or two true friends because having a few super close friends is better than having lots of distant ones.

4. Don't depend on any man for anything. Before moving in with your boyfriend and/or getting married, make sure you are financially stable all by yourself. That way, you will be able to leave him if things go south.

5. When you do get married, always keep money hidden away or have a secret bank account that your husband doesn't know about. That way, if things get really bad really fast, you can get out of there as fast as possible.

6. Finally, and I'm assuming Dad, Will, or Jay has already told you these things, but if they haven't, here they are. When drinking, watch the bartender make your drink. Don't take drinks from anyone. And don't leave your drink unattended.

I love you, sweetheart.

Love,

Mom (Amelia Halstead).

PS. Also in this envelope is a $20 gift card to Build-A-Bear. If you are too old to use it, save it for your kids. Or, if you have kids, give it to your kids. There is also $480. This can be used to pay for dresses for school dances, for college, and if you're reading this way in the future, to start a stash of money that your husband doesn't know about, or to help with bills and your own little family.

All three of you were in tears. But, you always knew that both of your parents would be with you and that they were so, so proud of each of you and that they loved each of you more than the world itself.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Leave a comment if I made you cry! I got a request of Kevin and Adam teaching Y/N how to punch, so I incorporated it into this imagine. To the anon who requested that, I hope you liked it! Anyway, please reblog/like and comment to tell me what you think! As always if you want to be added to my taglist, just tell me and I’ll add you! Finally, liked the imagine? Buy me a coffee here.

taglist: @theambracer88 @virtualreader @kelelas-life @celyndavies @brookerz122493 @musicismyescape27 @anotherfan07 @thexplosivegirl @dreamingwithlens @xoxmariaxox @onechicago18 @iamasimpingh0e @i-like-sparkly-things @herecomesthewriterwitch @liampayne88

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kusagrasskusa · 3 years

Text

Michael Myers X Murderer! Reader - Headcannons - "Death Card"

Also, thank you (Wattpad Person) for requesting this :) I know your the last request I got, so I prolly should have done someone else's request first, but your's was just easiest to find. (Also, I have it bad for Michael so )

Have fun reading this! I'm writing this on my laptop instead of computer so sorry if the formatting turns out worse than usual :/

Also...someone made fun of me for putting, "eight," and, "11," in the same sentence. I guess not many people know this, but anything under ten is supposed to be written out unless their fractions or decimals.

By the way, these basically aren't headcannons lol. It's just me wanting to write out a story but not being good enough to so I just write it down in simpler terms.

Enjoy~

Not only is Y/N just another famous murder who casually takes the lives of people, but she's amazing at hiding

..........until-

Y/N was an abusive home after her parents died when she was a toddler. Her aunt and uncle neglected her but karma came back at them when their car fell off a bridge, causing the pair to drown. The downside for the young Y/N was that she was put into a foster institution. And we all know by now that foster care are full of fights, drugs, weed, alcohol, and shitty employees.

As a young girl entering such a bad place, she was always a target. You know that sense of fear, worthlessness, and loneliness fucked with her head to where she felt lashing out felt great.

She would be unable to stop herself as she plunged a sharp object in and out of this prick that held her down for so long. But once she heard voices from other kids, she ran.

The story made headlines as the next big attack from yet another child. That's right, next. There was someone who inspired her to do what she did.

Of course, she always had that memory in the back of her head. That boy's violent actions filled her with immeasurable awe when she saw the news. However, she always had something more important to think about.

With so much dissatisfaction with her past, she could only fill herself up with adding things on to her in the present, and more in the future.

Y/N would steal Poker cards from people and always use the Ace of Spades to mark her kills by sliding the card into a wound. After all, betting games were the highlight of her day in the foster institution. She was always so good at it that it became her pride.

All these headlines and stories about how evil she is became such a big deal in her head. Such an overwhelming feeling of adrenaline every time she heard the name people would call her.

"The Death Card," is another name for Ace of Spades in most English countries. It was the perfect fit for Y/N.

(Ya'll, I feel like a fucking genius for coming up with that lol)

She was so good at hiding, truly. Kill someone in Kentucky, then move to Missouri. Killing someone there and move to Georgia, and so on.

Only in her hometown was she caught.

Michael was the one who started it all for her, as their same age and hometown made her feel connected to him, and finally where he got caught would be the same place she did.

14 years of hiding and killing led her to meeting him

Michael spent these 14 years sitting in complete silence. No talking, no humming, no singing, nothing. It's like he was always in his own world of thought, too busy in his imagination to interact with the real world.

Of course, there was times when he did pay attention to what's around him.

The news was the only thing he'd really pay close attention to. After all, what if something happens to Haddonfield while's he's stuck in there, and that causes plenty of people he once knew to move away?

But per usual, there was nothing about it

But there was something that caught his attention even by a little

"After 14 years, the notorious Death Card or Card of Death has finally been caught," says the Haddonfield Police Department. "While we're unsure of her motives thus far, we have been able to learn of who she is. Y/N L/N made the headlines once in 1980 at the age of eight as one of America's biggest crime cases with children as the culprit, having brutally stabbed a 15 year old boy. This happened just two years after the Michael Myers case, when a six year old boy stabbed his older sister in 1978. All else the HPD are saying is that her frantic behavior may lead her to a mental institution rather than letting her make legal decisions in court."

Michael paid attention to all the details of the report. For this report to be made about Haddonfield, chances are they'll be meeting each other soon.

The Death Card was a violent killer Michael heard of plenty of times however he never paid close attention to.

(Holy shit these are just headcannons so why am I writing long paragraphs)

He had to say, hearing about her violent stabbings were the highlight of his week. Even if he never felt strong about hearing other people having fun with their lives like she was, he couldn't help but almost feel pushed to do what she is. Living freely and ending those who cross his path...

Saying he was jealous or inspired would be a stretch though

He would spend his days painting paper mache masks while thinking of doing what she was for sure but he hated how she would show off by using those cards as if she didn't have a goal in mind, which was annoying to him. If you have nothing to live for, then kill yourself was his mindset.

Michael watched as Y/N stepped into court. He know hundreds- no thousands- of people watched as this woman of pure evil stepped into the courtroom. Her H/C hair flowed as she walked passed everyone, glaring at them with her cold E/C eyes.

A look of slight intrigue replaced his normal dull expression as he watched the girl stand up before the judge, smiling sassily at the cameras as to tell them to fuck off. Michael can recognize that look of intrusion on her face as she was practically interrogated. Clearly, she hated it there.

He watched contently as all the mystery surrounding the Card of Death was revealed to everyone in this world. Days went by of this court case before finally, she pled insanity. After all, she was known to have some underlying mental conditions as she remained so calm when talking about the varies of ways she would kill.

It's easy to see that many felt bad for the girl. Such trauma growing up led to the creation of this unfortunate human. But Michael? He didn't feel bad at all.

He never was sad or truly sympathetic however...he did feel pity. Somewhere in his soulless eyes held pity for this sad, sad girl he was soon to meet. Not exactly sympathy, but simply pity. And with that came respect.

The day that Y/N stepped foot into those doors was the day the two would meet for the very first times. Over 63 counts of first degree murder in 14 years led to the meeting of these two serial killers. At the time, they were both only 20.

Tables were scattered across the room with people talking or simply sitting alone by themselves on them. There was TV in a few different places around the room and board games in a couple of shelves. In the back of the large room was windows that showed the outside that felt so out of reach forever.

As the metal doors slammed behind her, she felt eyes on her immediately. Y/N slowly scanned the room as she gulped back the intense fear gathering in her stomach. Her lips parted open as she began to breath heavily and press her back on those metal doors.

She was so trapped and scared when she first entered that foster institution. She couldn't help but think of karma when her aunt would hurt her so badly for those five years before she died. But 63 murders are so much worse, so what could karma do to her to balance her evil deeds with punishment?

Laughter and giggled filled her ears as she shut her eyes tightly and covered her face with her arms. Her vision was going blurry; she was having a panic attack. Tears fell from her eyes as she whimpered quietly to herself.

She may be the Card of Death however she never had to be in a large group of people in so long.

Her body jerked as she was suddenly pulled away from those metal doors. She cried out when she saw a large man, around 6'7 (204cm), pull her away.

In just a few seconds, she was pulled to a metal table and forced to sit as the large man stood behind her with his hands on her shoulders.

Her body tensed unimaginably as they remained still for a few seconds, quiet aside from the occasional sobs of Y/N.

Then suddenly, the pressure on her shoulders disappeared. She heard nothing until the sound of creaking from the seat in front of her interrupted.

Y/N felt eyes on her. They were so intense over her.

A minute passed before her own eyes fluttered open, meeting the man's eyes in front of her.

A shiver ran down her spine when she came face to face with stone cold blue eyes that seemed to hold nothing within them. No light, no soul, and no sympathy. Not only that, but a orange mask made of paper mache covered the rest of his face as well.

The man tilted his head before lifting his hand onto the table, sliding something over to her. Y/N looked down at what he gave her.

"Don't speak. Write."

Michael had given her a paper with these words. His handwriting was hard to read considering he nearly never wrote anything so it took a moment before Y/N got the message. When she did, she looked back up at the man and nodded just a little so it was barely recognizable.

Obviously this conversation was to be secretive so she knew to barely show signs of interactions. The camera couldn't pick up on such a small nod to what evidence is there of them even interacting?

Michael slid the paper back to him and brought a pencil to the paper after erasing the original text. When he slid it back to her, it read, "Don't let anyone know what we say Y/N. They watch everything." When Y/N looked back up at him, she saw him dart his eyes from something behind her to something on the wall between them. She turned her head slightly to the side, noticing a camera on the wall. So she understood.

Michael had dropped on the pencil on the table, meaning it was her turn to reply. She erased the previous text before writing down, "Who are you? How do you know me?" When she slid it back, Michael took the pencil in his hand again.

"Michael Myers. I was a well known case two years before you. We heard a lot about you on TV."

"As in the boy who killed his sister at the age of six?"

"Yes. You know me?"

Y/N's eyes widened slightly as she frantically wrote down a reply. Without even noticing, the knot in her stomach had completely disappeared without a trace.

"I remember seeing your case. I thought about everyday."

Michael didn't reply immediately after reading. Instead, he waited a few minutes and stared down at the table. A look of confusion remained on Y/N's features as she impatiently waited. Then suddenly, Michael erased what was on the paper and simply drew a masked person looking somewhat like himself with a knife in his hand. He drew dead stick figures around it with blood splattering everywhere.

Michael knew that this picture would cover up all the eraser marks and writings that were still slightly visible. So when the guard that walked up behind Y/N without her knowing popped up, he didn't see any text.

Of course, this did lead to the paper being taken away. Then minutes after that, both of the pair was taken away.

If there's one thing as scary as analyzing The Shape and caring for him, it's that person who cares and analyzes him finding him interacting with someone else for the first time.

Whenever Y/N got sat down in her cell, she knew what was about to happen. She was sat down in her bed as a man she'd never seen before sat down in the chair that came with her little desk in her cell with a guard next to him.

Have you ever spoken to Michael? Are you related to him? How do you know him? How does he know you? Have you ever met his family? Why did he interact to you? Why was he drawing things for you? Does he like you? Does he hate you? Did he write to you? Did you hear him talk?

So many questions were asked by this Dr Loomis in such short amount of time. "No, no, I don't, no, I don't know, I don't know, I don't know, I don't know, no, no," and mostly these were your responses. No matter how many times Loomis asked, you dully replied.

You simply said he sat you down and you began to draw together, both filling in a piece of the drawing together.

And eventually, you got out.

Another day went by of "talking" to Michael.

And another.

The talks were nice and casual. What goes on in the asylum? What goes on in the outside? Who should I avoid? What's the reputation of the HPD?

Do you want to escape?

But it was only a matter of time before finally the two were friends.

Y/N was kinda just in her cell one night in bed. Then she just gasped and widened her eyes. Wait, are we friends? We're friends, right!

Michael already knew of their friendship like two weeks before she did. It felt so...wrong for him. He had always been alone and silent. How could someone like her even be so likeable to him? He didn't really understand it but he knew he hated it.

One day, the two were writing to each other per usual. Michael unintentionally added a pun in one of his comments, causing Y/N to giggle. Michael cocked his head to the side in confusion, strangely feeling heat rise his face and his heart speed up. It was air conditioned so he suspected he may have gotten sick.

Whenever the two had to go back to their cells, that feeling suddenly disappeared. Then it hit him. Oh fuck-

Hell, only a week later did Y/N feel herself experiencing the same symptoms. Michael notices that Y/N would shake and fidget a lot when they interacted, making him wonder of she was cold. As a friend, it was only right for him to sit next to her and hold her close to keep her warm, right? Y/N's face went red and damn that was embarrassing. But of course, that didn't mean Y/N wouldn't hug him back.

Eventually the two were basically cuddling. The two hugging each other warmly as Y/N rested her head on his chest, struggling to stay awake as they got more comfortable by the second.

But of course, Dr Loomis caught eye of that.

The doctor had been looking deep into al the interactions these two evil beings have had. They act so casual, so normal with each other, surely more than just drawing is happening between them, right?

The doctor had pulled them into his office separately to interrogate them. While Y/N bluntly answered his questions to make him just shut up as quickly as possible, she couldn't help but think to herself. She knows that she and Michael are mentally ill, but he should definitely be fixed by now. He's smart and creative and can casually talk to people, so it's like the only thing keeping him here is that the doctors are so ill-equipped that they can't make the necessary breakthrough to save him.

Of course, just a month later, another incident happened like this. Y/N was having a bad migraine so Michael got her to just sit down and wait for him during lunch. He brought over two trays of food for them and was sure to trade with Y/N so she can eat the things she likes and he could have the things she dislikes.

Another time, a bipolar guy ran into Michael and shoved him as if it was his fault. Michael shoved him back instinctively, causing a fight to disperse between the two. As security guards took notice, Y/N was quick to push Michael away softly and ball a fist to punch the fuck out of that guy- like a, "YO WHATCHU SAY ABOUT MY MAN?" type shit. Y/N did this to seem like she was hitting back and that Michael hadn't done anything wrong.

And when each other's birthday's rolled around, they had their own celebration. Y/N was given her own paper mache mask as a gift and a small cupcake from the cafe. Michael was given stolen art supplies that were taken from other guests and also a cupcake.

Y/N slowly stopped having panic attacks, but she definitely had her moments. Of course, Michael sat with her through it.

Dr Loomis recorded all this shit so he can gather data on Michael. Then the question hit him: How would Michael react if Y/N was gone for a few days? Does he truly care about her or is he just using her?

If you think Michael hated Loomis before, wait til he pieced together the disappearance of girlfriend and the extensive eyesight on him from security guards. For the hell he raised about it, he had to get sterilized and put into a cell without being able to get out for a few days.

Y/N remained bored in her cell for days. So what better could she do than annoy the guard watching her? She would just talk nonstop for what felt like hours and hours. The dude watching her was just getting more pissed off by the second.

"Would you shut up? Crazy bitch," he hissed, hitting the cell door. Y/N giggled cockily, shaking her head. Even if she deserved to be yelled at for continuing to talk, the Card of Death refused to back down. But when the guard went inside her cell and locked the door behind him, she got a bit worried.

Y/N got off her bed and threatened him cockily, to which he responded with physical force.

Of course, Smith's Groove is ill-equipped so even with proof of being hit and tazed, Y/N couldn't do anything to get the guard fired. But Michael?

A full month without seeing each other was like a slow suicide. But when they finally got to see each other again, the two was sure to write so much about their time alone as if they were teenage friends discussing their fun weekends. However, things turned dark whenever Y/N brought up the guard.

Michael didn't show any emotions at all, no matter what happens. But Y/N learned to guess how he's feeling depending on how long he takes to respond. Slowed blinking as if he was in thought, and slower reading as got analyze her writing closer were typically bad signs.

About a year had passed since they met at this time. A year to plan to escape. By now, the two were both 21 and fully prepared to leave once and for all.

Whenever that security guard had walked passed Michael's cell one night, Michael had knocked on the door to signal him. Michael slipped a paper through the doorslot, as he was given paper since he doesn't talk, saying he found a dead mouse in his cell. The guard just huffed and let himself inside. Michael pointed to where the mouse supposedly was; and that was a mistake for the guard.

Right as that guard went to look, Michael got behind and covered his mouth before stabbing him in the neck with a paint brush that's but carved into a small blade. Within moments, the guard dropped dead onto the floor.

Taking the keys from the guard, Michael was able to let out nearly every single prisoner to this hell out of their cells. Including Y/N.

The world sister was the only thing left of the pair as it was engraved into the door of Michael's cell. And just like that, the two were gone.

How they got there so fast doesn't matter but eventually Y/N and Michael found an abandoned house to station at until the search around the area disappeared and they could move around quicker.

"I can't fucking believe it," Y/N cheered as she felt tears run down her face from happiness. She swayed across the room, taking in the smell of dust and air. Even something dirty felt so new to her that couldn't help but love it at the moment.

Michael would watch her as he sat down in an old wooden chair, cocking his head. His body was in complete shock as the realization of all that's happened in the past years came crashing down on him. This was the real world? This is what dust smells like? This is what shattered glass and broken wood looks like? This is what trees look like up close? This is what things look like without glass tinting the color?

This is what it feels like to celebrate with someone you love? Michael reminded himself that the girl in front of him changed his life so much. His urge to harm all around him was always so strong, but the thought of her being hurt felt a bad taste in his mouth.

He stood up from the chair, walking towards the ecstatic girl as she cried happily to herself and picked up random things to remind herself of what they feel like and all she takes for granted. She turned her head to him, smiling, "Michael, look, I found a-"

Y/N gasped as Michael gripped his mask and slowly moved it. Y/N watched in awe as for the first time, she saw her only friend in this world's real face. That pale skin and soulless eyes that she grew familiar with became so new to her again.

"Michael..." she whispered, stepping closer to him. Her face heated up as she felt the weight his eyes staring down at her. She lightly bit her lip, a shiver going down her spine.

He took a few steps closer as well, making the two remain inches away from each other. Now at this point, Y/N is questioning if Michael is gonna kill her or is gonna kiss her as he awkwardly put his hand to her cheek, brushing her hair away. She leaned her head into his hand, keeping eye contact with him the whole time.

In just a matter of moments, the two came together in a soft kiss. The moment was quiet as the two did their best to remain calm and together as this moment that was little way's overdue continued.

When the two pulled away, Y/N was quick to wrap her arms around him. Now she wasn't going to cry about it, but damn was that contact she needed so badly. The Death Card and The Shape were basically Yin and Yang with how one is emotional and the other in emotionless but their need for pain and each other is what kept it healthy.

Just imagine how much suffering families went through since the two got out.

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