#tried to dress nicer a couple years ago

[boycritter]

accepting my fate as a guy made for cargo shorts

[mamaestapa]

Dinner Date & an Unexpected Text

•pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

•series summary: Y/n Hubbard, the younger sister of Cincinnati Bengals Defensive End Sam Hubbard, finds herself in a difficult situation after a steamy hookup with her brothers best friend, who just so happens to be the quarterback for the Bengals. In just nine months their lives will be changed forever. How will Y/n and Joe manage to to go through parenthood together? more so, how will Sam take the news he is going to be the uncle of his best friends baby?

•chapter summary: You and Joe finally go on your first date. The night goes extremely well, until you receive an unexpected text from someone you haven't heard from in a while...

•word count: 3.1k

•warnings: pregnancy, mentions of the scare Joe and reader had back in March, lots of fluff, mentions of SAM, cliffhanger ahead...

series masterlist

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May 6, 2023

5 months pregnant

You ran your fingers through your styled hair, smiling softly at your reflection in the mirror. Tonight, you and Joe were going on your first date. He asked you to be his girlfriend a week ago, and it was one of the greatest and most anticipated moments in your life. It took a few years and an unplanned pregnancy, but you were finally his. You had planned three different dates in the last week, but something came up each time you tried to go.

The first date idea Joe came up with was to take you out to brunch. However, the morning of your brunch date, Joe woke up with a nasty stomach bug. You spent the day taking care of him, which wasn't all that bad, but you both would've much rather spent your day doing other things.

The second date idea Joe came up with was to take you out downtown. The two of you would grab a quick dinner, do some shopping for the baby, and finish the evening off with some ice cream—for only you and the baby, since Joe doesn't eat dairy. However, Joe's plans fell through once again due to you waking up with a sore throat. You spent the morning at the doctors office getting diagnosed with Strep, with the rest of the day being spent with Joe taking care of you and your unborn baby. While you enjoyed the day with Joe, you didn't enjoy the Strep throat.

The third date idea Joe came up with is the one you're finally able to go through with. Joe liked the previous ideas he had come up with, but he figured after the last few days the two of you have had, it needed be something different, nicer. Joe decided that he was going to take you out for a nice dinner to Jeff Ruby's Steakhouse—the restaurant in Cincinnati that has a steak dinner named after him. All this time you’ve lived in Cincinnati, you’ve never been to fancy steakhouse before. So both Joe and you figured this would be the perfect first date.

You turned the light off and exited the bathroom, heading into your room to grab a cute, yet comfortable pair of high heels. Your ankles were a little swollen, but it wasn’t anything too noticeable so you could still get away with wearing heels. However, you know in a couple months you wont be able to wear the same shoes you can now. You found the pair of white heels you were looking for, sliding them onto your feet with ease before you headed downstairs. As you walked down the stairs, Joe whistled at you.

"Look at you." He said with a smirk as his eyes trailed down your figure, taking in your appearance. You blushed at his words and the feeling of his gaze on your body. "It looks a little different on me now." You said, glancing down at the dress you had on.

You were wearing the same dress you wore for your gender reveal party back in early March: the white cami dress with a slit that had pink flowers all over. The last time you wore this dress, you were three, almost four months pregnant. Your baby bump was still pretty small at that point, and the dress fit you like a glove. Now, at five, almost six months pregnant, it doesn't really fit the same anymore. Your belly is much rounder now, growing more and more everyday—which is a good thing. It means your son is healthy and growing like a weed in your womb, just like he's supposed to. Your growing tummy continues to bring you and Joe comfort after the scare you had back in March. Seeing your bump grow was a great reminder to the both of you that your baby boy was still OK.

Not only does the dress tightly hug your growing bump, it also hugs your growing chest, too. You knew your body would grow and change the further you got into your pregnancy, but you weren't expecting your boobs to go up a whole cup size (or two, who knows how they'll end up looking by the end of your pregnancy). Even though the dress is somewhat snug now, you still thought it would be the perfect dress for your first date with Joe.

“You look beautiful in it, Y/n.” Joe said, snaking his arms around your waist and pulling you into him, “even more than you did a couple months ago, and I didn’t think that was possible.” His eyes trailed down your body once again, a small smile pulling at his lips once his eyes landed on your rounded belly. He took his hands off of your waist, placing them on the sides of your bump instead.

“He really pops out in this dress, doesn’t he?”

You placed your hands over Joe’s smiling softly as you looked down at your belly and said, “Yeah, he does”.

You and Joe shared a brief moment of standing in silence. The two of you wore smiles on your faces as you just stared down at your growing bump in awe. Sometimes it still felt surreal knowing that your son was in there. As you stood in silence, Joe’s stomach growled, reminding the two of you of your dinner reservations. You let out a laugh as he removed his hands from your bump.

"Let's go, we've got a reservation in twenty." Joe said as he took his hands away from your belly. You smiled, reaching out for your small purse. "Sounds good to me."

With that, you and Joe left the kitchen and headed out to the garage, the two of you getting into his car and heading out to your date. As Joe drove to Jeff Ruby's, he kept one hand on the steering wheel and the other on your belly. He always had to keep a hand on you when he drove, and you loved it. It was a comforting gesture for both you and your unborn son.

~time skip~

"So what do you recommend here?" You asked Joe as you scanned over all of the options. The menu was a lot to unpack, with an overwhelming amount of steak meals to choose from. You knew you were starving and everything sounded good, but you didn't know what to get.

"Well," Joe sighed, placing his menu down on the cloth covered table as he looked into your eyes. A small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he responded to your question, "I may be biased, but the Steak Burrow is pretty good." Your lips pulled into a small smile as both of you chuckled softly at his suggestion.

In 2020, the owner of Jeff Ruby's named a steak dinner after Joe after winning the Heisman trophy. In Joe's Heisman speech, he described situations of food insecurities and poverty in his hometown of Athens, Ohio. His speech inspired Jeff Ruby to create a dish dedicated to Joe known as the "Steak Burrow": a delicious 16oz blackened prime ribeye with creole crawfish sauce--the crawfish being included from Joe's time at LSU. Not only is the dinner named after Joe, but every time a customer orders the Steak Burrow, nine dollars gets donated to the Athens County Food Pantry. Joe has done a lot of charity work to help the people of Athens and all over the state of Ohio that struggle with poverty and food insecurity. You truly couldn't be more proud of him and all that he's accomplished.

"I'll take your word for it..." you trailed off, closing the menu and placing it down on the table as you reached for your glass of water, taking a sip before continuing, "It sounds good, plus, I'll be supporting a good cause." You finished with a wink, making Joe smile. However, his smile faltered as he narrowed his eyes at you.

"What?" you asked, laughing lightly. Joe's sudden shift in mood had you growing confused. Joe wet his lips and cocked his head to the side slightly as he spoke, "Are you able to have crawfish?" You lips formed in a straight line at Joe's question. You hadn't really thought about it, but you assumed you could eat crawfish. But, I can't eat sushi, so maybe I can't...you thought to yourself as Joe gave you his best RBF.

"I think I can have it." You said, giving Joe a small nod. "You think?"

"Yep." you shrugged. Joe shook his head, he was ready to argue with you on this one.

"I just don't want you to hurt the baby."

"Eating crawfish won't hurt the baby."

"You don't know that, what if you get food poisoning or worse, some nasty parasite." Joe grumbled out in disgust. You rolled your eyes at your boyfriend’s words, "I'm not going to get a parasite, Joe."

"I just don't want to risk it," he sighed, reaching out for your hand that was on the table. He squeezed it gently as he spoke, "I don't want you eating something you're not one hundred percent certain that you can or can't have."

You smiled slightly at Joe's words. He was always concerned about you and the baby, making sure that both of you were safe and sound at all times--no matter the circumstance. You sighed in defeat, knowing you wouldn't win this argument.

"Fine. I won't eat the crawfish." You sighed, your response making Joe smile and let his shoulders fall in relief, "Thank you."

"I'm still get the Steak Burrow though," you said, pointing at Joe, "baby boy and I want to support you and all the great things you've done for the people of Ohio."

Joe smiled warmly, his cheeks turning rosy from your words of praise, "Thank you Y/n."

Before you could make another sweet comment, the waiter came back over to your table, asking you and Joe if you were ready to order. You said "yes", both of you ordering the Steak Burrow. You and Joe thanked the waiter as Joe handed him the menus, a tight lipped smile on his face as he nodded in response to the waiters thanks. Joe readjusted his napkin on his lap before he turned his attention back to you. There were many things the two of you could talk about as this was your first official date, but Joe wanted to ask the important questions first. The questions about your baby boy, his baby boy.

"So," he breathed out as he let his blue eyes fall to your swollen belly, "when's your next ultrasound?"

"Not for a couple weeks," you smiled softly as you placed your cup of water back down on the table, "I do have my glucose test next week though." Joe grimaced. He's heard that the glucose test isn't the most enjoyable test for a pregnant woman.

"Yeah," you chuckled softly at Joe's face, "I'm not too excited for it, but hopefully I pass so I don't have to do the three hour test, too." Joe nodded in agreement. He didn't want you to have to go through that either. The one hour test was already enough in his opinion (and yours too). You and Joe spent the next twenty minutes talking about the baby. Both of you had so much to talk about regarding your baby boy and his arrival when the season starts, so you figured now would be the perfect time to start some of those conversations. You decided that starting a nursery soon would be a good idea, and that it might be smart to throw around some name ideas too. You couldn't call the little guy "baby boy" forever. As you and Joe talked about your son, you couldn't help the grin that pulled at your lips as Joe gushed about the tiny newborn clothes he saw on the Nike website a few nights ago. It filled your heart with joy to see Joe so excited about the baby, and you knew that excitement was only going to grow the closer you got to the baby's due date.

Joe smiled softly, bringing a veiny hand forward and letting it rest on the table as he grabbed your hand and entwined his fingers with yours. Your smile matched his as you lovingly squeezed his hand.

"Thank you, Y/n." Joe spoke quietly, yet wholeheartedly as he gazed into your eyes. You furrowed your brows slightly in confusion, letting out a small laugh, "For what?" You asked.

"Everything." He said, the words escaping his pink lips in a tone just above a whisper. Joe gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing slightly in his throat as he did so. "I'm glad we were finally able to do this."

"Me too," you responded, your voice matching your boyfriends, "I've waited for this moment for a long time." Joe squeezed your hand once again, his lips turning into a huge grin as the corners of his beautiful blues crinkled in sync with the curvature of his lips. "I have too," he sighed softly before he continued, "I should've taken you on this date years ago, but..." he trailed off. You nodded and pulled your lips into a straight line. You knew exactly what he was referring to.

"I know," you replied softly, letting out a light laugh, "I know." Joe chuckled at your response. He nodded as he said, "But I'm really happy we get to do this now. This," he said, gesturing between the two of you, "it feels right."

"It does," you said, nodding in agreement. Joe smiled softly at you, looking like he wanted to say more; however, he was cut off by the waiter coming to your table with your food. He placed a plate down in front of both you and Joe, asking if the two of you needed anything else. You and Joe both said no, but the waiter gave the two of you a knowing look with a slight smirk on his face before he left the table for a brief moment. You and Joe both sat in your seats filled with confusion. The waiter came back to the table with a bottle of rose in his hand. He pulled two champagne flutes off of an empty table and placed them down on yours. He popped the cork off of the bottle and poured each you and Joe a glass.

"Non-alcoholic, on the house." The man said, smiling as he pulled the bottle away from your glass. "Thank you for all that you do for the community, Joe."

Joe gave a curt nod in response, smiling softly as he replied, "Yeah, of course. This community means a lot to me, it's the least I could do."

The waiter thanked him again and before he walked away, he wished you and Joe well, telling you both to enjoy your date together. You smiled and thanked the man before you and Joe both began to indulge in your delicious steak dinner.

As you were eating your meal, you couldn't help but let out moans of pleasure from the taste of the steak and the mixture of the crawfish sauce. The Steak Burrow was divine.

"This better than McDonald's?" Joe asked with a smirk of amusement as your content moans filled his ear. You chuckled softly, wiping the corners of your mouth with the napkin draped over your lap. "Much." You reply, making Joe smile and let out that laugh of his that you love so much. As you placed your napkin back on your lap, you felt your phone vibrate. You were going to let it go because you were on a date and you didn't want to be rude, but something inside of you told you needed to check it. You pulled your phone out, heart dropping to your stomach and all the color leaving your face as you read the text you received from someone you haven't heard from in a long time...

Sam- Hey Y/n. I know we haven't talked in a while, but I really need to talk to you and Joe about something. If you're up for it, can we meet up next Thursday? I miss you. Hope you and the baby are doing OK. Love you Y/n/n.

You shut your phone off and let out a sigh. You looked up at Joe, seeing his eyebrows furrowed in confusion and face full of concern as he looked at you.

"What it is, sweets?" He asked quietly, fearing the worst based on your reaction.

"It's Sam," you stated, "he needs to talk to us, Joe."

omg hi loves!!! it’s been SO LONG! hopefully you’re all still around for this series lol

i’m so sorry that’s it’s been like almost two months since i’ve updated this series. as you know, i’m in my first year of college. it’s so much fun and i love it so much, but it’s also a lot lol. it took me some time to get adjusted to this new chapter of my life, but i’ve finally gotten used to the college life and im happy to say that i am BACK to my tumblr writing!!🥳

it was nice to have a little break and just focus on me, but i missed writing and working on updates for you all.

updates will be a little slow, but they’ll happen! i’ll try to get a chapter out every week, but no promises. they’ll definitely be posted every week or every two weeks though :)

i feel like i have so much to say, but i don’t even know what to say. i apologize again for the lack of updates, and i also apologize if this chapter SUCKS because ive been dealing with writers block AND a writing break…so my writing is a little rusty lol

also sam and his drama making an appearance again…how do we feel about that??👀

anyways, thank you all so much for being patient with me as you waited for updates. you are all so kind and so supportive. YOURE THE BEST BABES FR🫂🤍

tags: @dandelionwrites8 @joeburreauxsworld @theflawedwriter @mrsshiesty @ann288 @ijustcrypretty @theoneandonlyfanz @wickedfun9 @venus-b @hummusxx @stainednailpolishremover @a-moment-captured @alternativemadchen @erinmartin1987 @sirlewisworld @kkrenae @unhingedfangirl @sublimemusic-rebel @meameagirl @ilovejoeburroww @hallecarey1 @j-worlds-blog @blinkloverx3 @jordyn14 @kristencochefski1125 @ryiamarie @unsaidjaelinrose @sinners-98-world @ozwriterchick @evernova @fangirl-madz @jackharloww @fantasywritersstuff @emherb10

[needyfreek2]

Prom Blows (Repost)

It was past 10 when Luna pulled up in front of the school she’d already graduated from. If it wasn’t for her absolute wreck of a senior sister, one would think of her as some sort of creepy college girl coming to the high school to pick up underage boys.

Roxy had called her, over an hour ago, begging her to take her home. After her date ghosted, her friends ditched, and she spilled spiked punch all over herself, Roxy had sobbed to Luna over the phone. So like the “Good Sister” she was, Luna came to her rescue.

“I’ve been waiting outside for a fucking hour where have you been?” Roxy hid her tears behind a veil of aggression.

“Sorry, sorry. I was busy.”

“With what? You don’t have a life.” Roxy retorted. She wasn’t fully wrong. Ever since Luna went off to college, she hadn’t done much aside from going to class in the morning, doing homework when she got back, and sleeping. Even on weekends, Luna was more likely to go study at the library rather than do anything fun. It was the first time in years that Roxy was well and truly alone at home. Their mom was usually working late at the hospital, and their dad didn’t even bother to write letters anymore. Roxy had a couple of friends, and the pretty privilege to get asked out every so often, but it never felt as fulfilling as her relationship with Luna. At least, that’s how it was. 

Luna had started college this year. Too poor to get into one of the nicer schools she wanted to, she had to settle for community college and living at home. It was nice to have a free place to stay, but it was starting to get tiring in sophomore year of high school. This town has a way of wearing down the people who get stuck here.

“I’ve got an essay due tomorrow.” That’s all she ever talked about. Schoolwork.

Roxy didn’t respond, she just looked out the window and tried her best to hold back her tears.

“So, what happened?” Luna was the first to break the silence.

“My date didn’t show up, he was off fucking one of my friends in the bathroom. Then my friends ditched me. Fucking whores.”

“Roxy…” Luna sighed.

”They are! Don’t take their side dipshit-”

“No, I'm just sorry. That blows.” 

Roxy blinked a couple times, taken aback at her sister’s sudden approval. She half expected her to call it “Teen Girl Bullshit” and move on but not this time.

“Yeah, I- It sucks.” Roxy leaned back to get comfortable. “I got all dressed up and pretty for him…” She fidgeted with her tight, deep red velvet dress. It was a beautiful dress, form fitting, a perfect color for Roxy. When Luna glanced over, she couldn’t help that his eyes wandered to her prominent cleavage. In most outfits she wore, Roxy’s chest seemed much smaller. She wasn’t modest by any means, but she clearly put in the work to draw attention to where she wanted. It even worked on her sister. Luna’s eyes flashed back to the road. She knew how gross it was to think of her own sister in that way, to objectify her like that. 

But she couldn’t help it. Roxy was beautiful. Long black hair that poured down her back like a dark cascade, a back now exposed by the dress. Silky smooth, pale skin, perfectly slender and clean. The way her body curved, her hips, thighs, chest, almost like a doll with how precise it was. Luna hated that time and time again, she found herself staring, whenever Roxy wasn’t looking. When Luna would be on her laptop in the kitchen and Roxy would come in for a snack, bending over to get something from the lower sections of the fridge. The way her shorts would ride up, exposing the slightest bit of Roxy’s panties underneath… Or when they watched a movie together, Roxy would lay her legs over Luna’s and she could barely focus on what was happening on the screen. 

The worst part is that she wondered if she did it on purpose. Just to get a rise out of her.

Gross. Don’t think like that.

“So what now?” Luna asked quietly.

“I don’t know… I kind of just want to get out of this dress.”

“You don’t want to stop for ice cream first?” Luna smiled at her sister. Roxy just shook her head and watched the cars go by. Luna sighed. “I think you look very pretty, Roxy.”

Roxy turned to her.

“You do?” She asked, pleading for reassurance.

“Yeah… It’s a nice dress.”

“So you think the dress is pretty. Not me.” Roxy rolled her eyes.

“No, I think you’re pretty. The dress just… uh- helps.” Luna had a hard time concealing her blush. Disgusting that she would get that way over her own sister.

“You’re just saying that because you’re my sister.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re just trying to make me feel better, you don’t actually think I'm pretty.” Roxy sunk deeper into the seat.

“No, I really-“ Luna stopped herself. “You’re the most beautiful girl I know, Roxy. And if the people at your school don’t see that they’re dumbasses, ok?” Roxy looked out the window again. “I really mean it, Rox. Anyone would be lucky to be with you. You’re smart, witty, you have good taste, you’re the nicest person at that shit show of a school. You’re hot- uh- from a like- from an unbiased perspective I mean.” Luna covered her mouth in a vain attempt to conceal her blush. “Look, I just mean that you’re… you’re so much better than all of them. They don’t deserve you.”

Roxy still didn’t look back. 

Luna brought the car to the side of the road by an old park the two used to play at. It was empty, that late at night. A place that once brought the two so much joy, now a reminder of their distance. 

“Why are we-“ Roxy was cut off by Luna’s hand, taking her arm.

“Roxy…” Her grip was soft, reassuring more than anything else. Roxy finally looked back. “I need you to know that you are the most amazing, beautiful, incredible girl I have ever met. Anyone, and I mean anyone, would be lucky to have a go out with you. They blew their shot, don’t get hung up on them. Ok?” Then that smile, that stupid beautiful smile of hers. Roxy couldn’t stand that look, when Luna was so close to tears, and yet looked so loving and… pretty, damn it. 

And that’s the point where Roxy decided to go for it.

“Fine… you’re right. But I still didn’t get kissed… or laid. And fuck i was really banking on getting laid tonight.” 

Luna blushed a bit, but laughed the comment off, saying something incredibly stupid as she did. 

“I’d kiss you, if I weren’t your sister.” Luna joked, sort of… 

“You’d kiss me?”

Luna panicked, she hadn’t realized she said that out loud. “Oh! I just mean that- I mean- It’s not-“ Luna realized just how fucked she was, hoping that the little bit of alcohol in Roxy’s system would allow her to forget the massive fucking blunder Luna had made. “We should get going!” Luna went to take the car out of park but was surprised to find Roxy’s hand placed gently on hers.

“W-Wait… Please.” Roxy gave a pleading look to Luna that made her hesitate. “You… you would kiss me? Even when I’m this much of a mess?”

“I mean- I- Roxy I’m your sister it’s not like-“ Luna tried to save herself, but Roxy wasn’t content to let her go so easily. 

“You mean you don’t want to?” Roxy asked, red in the face.

Luna paused. Fuck.

“I don’t- we can’t. We’re sisters… I wouldn’t- I would never even think about-“

“What if I wanted you to?” Roxy’s hand had traveled to her sister’s shoulder now. Luna could hardly think, much less string together words to make a coherent sentence. “It wouldn’t mean anything, but… Would it really be so bad? Just one?”

Luna realized she wasn’t breathing.

“Wait, you’re being serious?” Luna muttered, Roxy nodded. 

“Just… don’t make a weird thing out of it ok? It’s just a kiss.” 

Luna checked to make sure no one was around, thank god for that. Taking a deep breath, Luna turned back to her sister.

“So…” Luna tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and pushed up her glasses. Her hands were shaking. Roxy noticed, and took her sister’s hands in her own.

“It’s OK, Luna… don’t be so nervous. I’m your sister, I won’t judge.” She gave her such a sweet smile. With that last bit of encouragement, Luna nodded and leaned toward Roxy ever so slightly. Roxy caught her breath and moved in. For a while the two were too nervous to breach the gap, a comfortable distance kept between their lips. Then, with sudden eagerness and impatience, Roxy shot forward and locked lips with Luna. The suddenness of the kiss caused Luna to inhale sharply and jump in her seat. 

The kiss itself was amazing, the best either had ever experienced. Luna’s face was warm, blushing so hard her glasses could have fogged up. Roxy moved her hands to her sister’s red face, holding her tightly. Absent-mindedly, Luna started to slip her tongue into Roxy’s mouth, a gesture she was more than happy to reciprocate. Without realizing it, Roxy’s hand fell to Luna’s thigh, and inched closer to her crotch until-

“Oh-!” Roxy pulled away. Luna blinked twice, recollecting her thoughts before turning away, abashedly covering her face with one hand and her crotch with the other.

“Fuck, i- im so sorry- i don’t know what happened.” Luna did her best to conceal the very obvious erection trying to escape her jeans. “I haven’t been able to- and yknow i’m just- Fuck, sorry!” 

“No no- it’s ok Luna… Really. I take it, you liked that?” Roxy was blushing just as much, if not harder than Luna.

Luna didn’t respond.

“Luna?”

“I’m sorry. I’m so gross.” Luna hid her face in her hands.

“What? No, it’s ok. Really!” Roxy leaned back in and caressed her sister’s arm. “I get it, you’re excited. I- I am too.” 

“Excited?” Luna removed her hands from her face.

“Yeah I mean, I assume that’s what that means.”

“No no, you’re excited?” A million terrible thoughts went through Luna’s mind.

“Well…” Roxy turned toward the window, blushing. “You’re not the only one who’s been… pent up.” She cleared her throat. “I’m- I’m a little wet right now… Well, more than a little.”

The sisters stared at each other in silence for what felt like ages. 

“I know…. it’s gross isn’t it?” Roxy tried to laugh it off.

“No! Not at all!” Luna grabbed Roxy’s shoulders. “Uh- Well I guess it sort of is… I mean we’re sisters and all, but-“

“But…?” Roxy placed her hand onto Luna’s as it held tight to her shoulder. 

“Uh- People get like this all the time? It’s fine, we’ll take care of it when we get home.”

“We!?” Roxy was both excited and mortified.

“I mean seperately! In separate rooms! Touching ourselves- not- fuck.” Luna tried desperately to hide her fucked up desires in this moment. Roxy didn’t even try to hide her disappointment. “Wh- what?” Luna asked.

“Just- I don’t know… It’s easier with help.”��

“Huh…” Luna went brain-dead. 

“Like you’ve been with girls before! Just this one time, I swear! I won’t ever bring it up again. I just need help right now.”

Luna fully realized what her sister was asking her to do.

“Are you being for real?”

“Y-yes.” There was that awkwardness again. She was too cute to resist like this.

“So you want me to…” Luna’s fingers drifted to the hem of Roxy’s dress. Roxy turned away as she slowly lifted it to reveal her now damp white panties. Luna gasped, completely unable to pull herself together now.

“Please just- do it already.”

Luna nodded, though Roxy refused to look. Slowly, gently, carefully, Luna pulled her sister’s panties down to her shins. Now, her glistening cunt was bare and Luna saw the full lengths of what she had done to her sister with just a simple kiss. 

“F-Wow, you’re really wet, sis.” As soon as it came out of her mouth, she realized how disgusting it sounded. But that didn’t matter anymore, all that did, was Luna being here for her sister.

Luna teased Roxy’s slit, tracing her fingers across it and lightly touching her clit. The full weight of the action, Luna fingering her sister, wouldn’t quite break through to her until she had already slipped two fingers inside. Roxy, who up until this point had been lightly releasing quiet pleasured breaths, let out a full moan. The sound was intoxicating to Luna, she’d fantasized about hearing it for so long, it almost didn’t seem real.

“Fuck…” Luna sighed. Roxy let her head fall back as her breaths became staggered and harsh. The two tried not to look each other in the eyes as Luna spoke once again. “Is this ok?”

Roxy nodded, unable to speak at this point. Luna kept going, now being able to smell just how worked up Roxy had gotten. Luna’s pointer and index were now lodged deeply within her sister’s pussy, awkwardly curling and shifting inside of her.

Roxy let out a quiet whimper and covered her mouth with her hands, ashamed that she was being so loud for her sister of all people.

Luna pulled Roxy closer, maneuvering so that she could better reach from behind, though the position was awkward and uncomfortable.

“Luna~” Roxy whispered through strained whimpers as her sister fingered her from behind, her arms wrapped tightly around her waist. Roxy wrapped her own arm around Luna’s neck and stared up into her eyes. Finally, the two made eye contact, face to face, mere centimeters apart. 

That’s when the reason they had avoided direct eye contact became clear…

The two of them kissed once again, a deep, sloppy, passionate kiss. Roxy couldn’t help but moan as they exchanged saliva, their tongues writhing around each others’ mouths.

“R-Roxy~ Please… I can’t do this.”

”What? Why?” Roxy broke from her sister’s grasp, pouting.

”I’m i- I’m too hard… do you think you could-”

Without a second thought, Roxy started unzipping Luna’s jeans. Feeling her older sister’s hard cock beneath her tight satin panties drove Roxy crazy. Luna too was losing her mind, shaking uncontrollably as her nerves took hold. Having a girl, her sister no less, touch her in such an intimate way—

The thought was interrupted by the warm, wet sensation of Roxy’s tongue tracing the length of Luna’s cock. 

Luna whimpered as Roxy fit her dick into her mouth. The taste was unlike anything she’d ever experienced, Roxy could hardly think of anything else as she took the entirety of her sister’s dick down her throat.

Luna arched her back, grabbing the steering wheel for support, shaking and blushing furiously.

“Oh my god… Roxy, please~ please don’t stop.” Luna whispered.

Roxy looked up into her sister’s eyes as she pleaded. She looked so pretty from down there. 

It didn’t take long for Luna to finish. She filled her sister’s mouth with hot cum, so much it dripped from Roxy’s lips as she pulled off Luna’s dick. Luna loudly moaned, no longer able to contain herself.

Luna fell back into her seat, still hard as she shouldn’t have been. Unsatisfied, Roxy pulled her panties fully off and climbed on top of Luna. 

“Wait- Wait no!” Luna didn’t really want it to stop, but she knew if she let this happen, there really would be no going back. It was too late though…

Luna’s leaking tip disappeared into Roxy’s slick opening. Slowly, the rest of Luna’s dick entered her sister’s pussy.

“Luna~” Roxy moaned into her ear as she wrapped her arms around her neck tightly. The two sat in each other’s embrace for what felt like an eternity. 

After enough time had passed for the sisters to move past the initial sin, they made the final decision to keep going no matter how wrong it was. 

Roxy rose up slowly and slammed back down, her ass slapping against Luna’s thighs over and over. 

Roxy’s dress rose up high enough now that Luna could see the mess she had made of her sister. Wet, glistening in the light of the street lamps, freshly shaven too… 

“Roxy~” Luna muttered her lover’s name between whimpered moans. 

“Luna~” The two kissed once again. A deeper, more passionate kiss than either had ever given anyone else, like they had saved it specially for this moment. They moaned into each others’ mouths, taken by their shared euphoria. When Roxy rose, Luna pulled back. When Luna pushed deeper, Roxy buried her sister’s dick as deep inside her as she could muster without breaking. 

“Roxy~ I’m going to cum again~ I can’t~”

“Shhh…” Roxy placed a finger to Luna’s lips. “I know… me too.” She could hardly get the words out. “Let’s do it together… ok~?”

Luna nodded. The two increased their pace. Up and down, back and forth, over and over. Luna felt herself building to another climax, this time trapped inside her sister, when—

The two came together, screaming out each other’s names as they felt their minds go blank for one brief moment of pure ecstasy. 

Roxy fell on top of Luna, both of them breathed heavily. They didn’t move for a full minute.

“A-are you ok?” Luna whispered. “Was that ok?”

“Yes!” Roxy stammered quietly. “It was amazing, Luna.” She hugged her sister close. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Roxy.” Luna watched as Roxy rose from her cock, letting their shared liquids spill out onto it. 

“Thank you.” Roxy embarrassingly stumbled back into the passenger seat. Luna pulled her pants back up and Roxy did her best to clean herself up with the tissues in the glove compartment. The two drove home, not a single word exchanged between them. 

When they finally arrived, their mother still working late into the night, they returned to their separate rooms-

It wasn’t thirty minutes after they got back that Roxy snuck into Luna’s room to continue what they had started in the car…

[nemorialex]

The 25th June 13th

Today should have been horrible. It always was. Even if it was a “good” day, Alex’s fear, anxiety, and trauma came to tear at them, like wolves and flame to flesh… 10 years ago that was a literal statement.

That being said… Today was…

Today was good. 

Naturally, Frenchie spent the day with them. Alex probably wouldn’t survive the ordeal without him. He brought along Casey, who showed off new skirts and pelted her papa with beanbags. If there was ever a time where he earned that beautiful blue diamond badge and the title of “Moirail” it was now. A solid rock, a warm presence, and he did a damn good job of keeping them from spiraling.

Another reason for their good mood was declaring today a “baking” day. Eight pies (later totaling out to eleven) were made and sent out to friends and family. Shopping at the local consort market, out in the fresh air and bustling crowd of bubbles and chirps, provided clarity. Folding dough and measuring fillings and pipping out whipped cream took concentration that kept even their attention deficit mind occupied. They had even tried their hand at a couple of new creations! 

Dinner was also a success (when it had no right to be.) Frenchie looked amazing in his sky blue and cloudy suit, of course, and Dirk looked pretty ridiculous in a sleeveless tux. The bastard even used his new “accessory” of their sharp tooth as a tie pin, front and center. Taunting. But they weren’t going to get into that sort of fight tonight, Alex was going to keep their own dark blue suit and green tie clean of a scuffle. The restaurant that Frenchie worked at was a nicer place, but nothing RIDICULOUS like $500 garnishes or whatever; it was a good middle ground between dressing up and stressing out, and having been there a few times it familiar territory. 

Dirk gave them a gift. A piece of metal on a necklace in the shape of a tooth (bastard…) and decorated with moving, clicking, shifting parts… Something to play with? Something to solve? He also paid the check. 

After dinner, Alex went back to the boy’s home to spend the rest of the night there. Preferably cuddled up in an obscene number of pillows/blankets/plush while watching comfort movies until they fell asleep. Casey and Deb were dropped off earlier and by now they were tucked in. Or at least, they were off in a room with the door closed and pretending to be asleep. 

Before Alex could reach the cuddle pile, Zack caught them. With a jerk of the head, he lead his sibling outside to the balcony. 

“So… good day?”

“Actually…” Alex ducked their head and lowered their voice, as if some cosmic being would hear them. “Yeah… It was.”

“Cool. Good…” He nodded and looked out at the colorful dusk sky, studying those suddenly fascinating milky clouds. The silence stretched for a moment, just long enough to get a taste of the Awkward it would turn into when Zack spoke up again. 

“Obviously, I know you’re not into today.” He shrugged his shoulders in defense. “And I’m cool with that. Obviously.” 

“Obviously.” They echoed with a nod, a teasing smile playing at their lips.

“Shut up. Point is… Feels wrong to just. Let this one slide completely, y’know? It’s a milestone after all...”

“Milestone.” This echo was less teasing. It lingered as Alex collected the pieces implied. “Wait, is it?” 

“Yeah.” He looked back at them now, a teasing smile on his lips now. “You’re twenty five today, dude.” 

Alex sucked a tight breath through their teeth. Now it was their turn to see what was so fascinating about those clouds. It wasn’t as if they didn’t know their own age (and temporarily getting the dates mixed up did NOT count!) but the connections in meaning- the significance- was still there. He might as well strap a party hat to their skull and start blowing a noise maker.

Zack sighed. 

“Listen. It’s not even about today, okay? Forget about that. This is about you. You’re still my sibling. My little sister. You deserve… I dunno, something, right? Sum’in special. Lets just say it’s for the hell of it, even though making it to twenty five goddamned years with how batshit insane you are is a miracle in and of itself.” 

There was a nudge on their arm and Alex looked down at the small black box in his hand, then up at his face. He was pudgy. Not fat, per say, but his cheeks and chin were more rounded out and peachy and stubbled and healthy than- What mental picture were they trying to compare him to, here? When he was a rounder kid? When he was a re-discovered gaunt teen? When he was a muscular-by-survival young adult? Zack had called Alex his little sister. It wasn’t a forgotten slip-up, and it wasn’t out of malice. He was invoking a time long ago, built on a singularity between two, full of trust and love and defense. It felt… Okay, in this context and this instance. They understood the many, many words buried beneath the one.

Alex stared at him a moment longer as their hand slowly reached out and took the gift. A jewelry box, with a stiff and creaky hinge at the back. Inside was a clear crystal, only a couple of centimeters in diameter and completely spherical aside from the teardrop tail that connected it to a silver chain. While the outside was smooth, the inside was marred with cracks and beautiful imperfections. When Alex lifted it out of the box, those cracks within caught the last rays of sunlight and split it into a rainbow of refracted light.

“So get this, the store names each piece of jewelry, right? ‘Parently, this one’s called “Haven’s Tear.” It’s like, basically a solid fucking diamond, but. You know. Not from Earth. Think it’s got a different chemical makeup or something? Super rare, and I’m not telling you the price because you’ll shit your pants and then kill me.” 

His chuckles died at the lack of a response. Zack stayed quiet, even though they could tell he had a lot more to say. Alex looked up at him and- Wow, when did the world suddenly become wobbly and waterlogged? All at once, a hiccuping sob bubbled up out of them, those built-up tears spilling over. It was stupid! And spontaneous and weak and pointless and-!!! 

And it was a really sweet gift. With sentiment put behind it. With a little speech and a history (Zack had more to say, and Alex could see the little slip of informational paper just inside the cushioning of the box) Also it was at the end of a really, really stressful day that somehow turned out to be wonderful and–

“Thanks…” Their voice was wobbly. 

“No problem. May I?” Thankfully, Zack knew when to tone down the dramatics, but he was still being cheeky. He practically bowed and held out a hand to take their gift back. He carefully draped the chain around the front of his sibling’s heck and redid the clasp behind them, away from any loose hairs. After spinning them around by the shoulders to get a good look (the perfect fit, if he did say so himself) he closed the rest of the gap in a tight hug. Alex clung to his shirt, sniffling. 

“... You know I want to say it, right?”

Alex sniffled extra hard and gave him a wet laugh.

“Fine… Go ahead…”

He squeezed them tighter, and spoke quietly. 

“Happy birthday, Alex.”

[loftylockjaw]

TIMING: Recent LOCATION: Xóchitl’s house PARTIES: Wyatt & Xóchitl SUMMARY: Wyatt finally gets around to surprising his friend from Boston with his appearance in her hometown, and the two reconnect in a few different ways. CONTENT WARNINGS: Wrspice (implied)

—

They’d met in Boston some years ago, but Xó hadn’t lived around those parts since she was a kid, so there was always significant time in between their chances to reconnect. Still, she was a fun person to be around and someone that Wyatt would consider a friend, so when he realized that his hunt for steadier fighting ring work was taking him right into the town she’d told him she was living in, of course he had to see her. He’d waited a few weeks, giving himself time enough to settle in, find a normal job, secure the other job, and generally make sure he was well put together before surprising her with a visit. 

‘Heeey, guess who’s in your neck of the woods?!’ he’d texted her a few days back. She was shocked, naturally, but the two had quickly made plans to meet at her place for drinks, snacks, and catching up. Currently, the Cajun was stood outside her door, a bag in one hand that he’d filled with a couple bottles and some homemade appetizers, and an autumn-themed bouquet in the other. When she eventually pulled it open, a smile bloomed on his face that was perhaps even larger than the sunflower that sat front and center in the flower arrangement. 

“Xó!” he exclaimed affectionately, laughing as he set down the insulated bag for a moment to reach in and hug her with one arm. “Been too long, young lady!”

—

Wyatt was an old friend (so old, she’d joked more than once, when they’d first met), and he was somehow in the same town that she’d grown up in, now. Been born in, at least. Xóchitl wasn’t sure if she could fully say that she’d grown up in a town that she’d left when she was eight years old.

But when he’d texted her and mentioned that he was here, she hadn’t had to think twice about agreeing to hang out. At her place. Which yes, maybe she’d made sure was extra clean (though it usually was – in case she needed to put it on the market suddenly, in case this town made her need to leave again), and maybe she’d also dressed herself up nicer than usual, with a shirt that was one of her less work-appropriate ones, but Wyatt was cute, and she was almost thirty (though she’d certainly tried to flirt with him even back home, back when she was just nineteen or twenty).

She’d heard him at the door and darted over, smile bright on her face. “Far too long, though you still look good, not that I’m surprised, but…” Xóchitl let her voice trail off. “Come on in. What do you think of the place? Decorated it all myself, though manman is an art curator still, so I think some of her talent rubbed off on me.” Even if the place looked more pristine than most homes, she had made every effort to choose decor that felt like her, felt good, and looked good, too.

—

“Ohh, flatterer,” Wyatt teased, sauntering into the home as his gaze raked it over a few times, smile still fixed firmly in place as his head started to bob in a nod. “Hell yeah, ma chérie, it looks great.” His gaze fell back on Xó and he extended the bouquet out to her, adding a cheeky, “Not unlike yourself,” that he paired with a quick wink. 

Once she’d taken the flowers from him, he trailed after her toward the kitchen where she could procure a vase for them, and he could unpack their vittles for the evening. Carefully setting the plated and professional-looking dishes out along the counter, he explained what each one was as he went, then ended with the two bottles of wine he’d brought. He asked after the bottle opener and glasses so he could get them started, and it was as he was pouring the dark red liquor that he gave the woman a smirk and a soft scoff. “Girl, how are you?” he asked playfully, passing her one of the glasses. “Don’t hold back, now, I wanna know the hot goss.”

—

“You know it.” Xóchitl grinned back at him. “Oh, glad you think that my decorating skills are decent, and that you think I look great. Means a lot.” She quickly accepted the bouquet and offered Wyatt the slightest of curtseys in response – tongue-in-cheek and all, but something that worked very well between the two of them, she figured. 

“Damn, I’m impressed.” She spun around on the balls of her feet, pressing a kiss on top of the flowers before setting them down. “I’m well, you know, just looking great and having a brilliant job. Not that I’d brag, ever. Or,” Xóchitl’s eyes crinkled in the beginnings of laughter, “well, not without reason. Hot goss? There’s this sexy guy that’s back in town? Curly brown hair, wickedly charming smile? You might have seen him around.” She winked. “But for real, I don’t know – this town is still weird, but not all of it feels bad. Most of it, yes, but not everything. Do you have any hot gossip for me, babe?” Maybe the babe was a bit too much, but she appreciated just how easy things felt with Wyatt, how at home they felt.

—

"Ohh, no kiddin'? Hmm, you might have to introduce me…" Wyatt teased in return, taking a sip of his wine. Bless her heart–weird didn't even begin to cover it. He wondered, briefly, exactly how much of that weirdness she was aware of… but figured that would come up naturally if at all, and let the comment slide on by with a commiserate nod and shrug. "Little ol’ me? Well… It was gettin' too expensive to stay in Boston, couldn't ah… send as much back home." He'd made the brave decision to tell Xóchitl about his family in Louisiana once, and while he'd left out a lot of details, she at least knew that a portion of his income was mailed to his mother. "Heard through the grapevine that the cost of livin' was better here, n' since I knew you came from these parts, well… figured there had to be some good about it." He grinned, circling an arm around her waist and pulling her in close, pressing an affectionate kiss to her temple. "Believe it or not, you ain't the first person from Boston I've run into up here. Seems the past has a way of catchin' up, eh? Anyway… it's been good. Woulda been smarter to move somewhere warmer, probably. But I never claimed to be smart," the lamia laughed. 

After a beat, he let her go and set his glass on the counter, clapping his hands together. "Right then! Food, before the warm stuff cools off too much. All made special for you, dove." 

—

“I’ll be sure to, I have a feeling the two of you’ll get along almost like you’re the same person.” Xóchitl offered him a conspiratorial grin. She listened carefully to what he was saying – Wyatt was absolutely someone she trusted very much, and cared for all on top of that, and since they hadn’t been in tons of contact recently, she was hungry for whatever pieces of information he shared. “Boston’s way too expensive, I agree – and that makes sense, you’re good for looking out for your mom, I mean, I know it’s just nice to do, but too many people wouldn’t even try…” He’d come here in part because she was from here, and for all that she loathed what the town had done to her, she couldn’t help but smile at that particular remark, body relaxing against his arms. Sighing against the kiss against her temple, entirely at ease with him, just as always. “No way. That’s neat, though it’s kind of wild to see a lot of us just suddenly move up here. Though three’s not so many, I suppose. Well, I think you’re plenty smart,” she pressed a kiss to her fingers and pressed her fingers against his nose, “and selfishly, I’m glad you’re here, because I missed you.”

Xóchitl frowned for a moment when he let her go, though the promise of food was enticing. “I feel very very lucky, because your food is some of the best ever.”

—

It was kind of her to tell him she thought he was smart, even if he didn’t believe it for a second. Not to say he thought she was lying, she’d just probably never been around him long enough for the true, dumbass bayou hillbilly to come through. He’d worked very hard on the walls he’d built up around himself to protect that aspect of his personality from view, and subsequently, ridicule, and there were not many people he’d been that vulnerable with. It was nothing against Xóchitl, either—she was just actually smart, so the walls stayed up. Perception was everything, and if Wyatt was being truly honest with himself, he cared deeply about what others thought of him. Best to keep on her good side. 

They’d eaten the food and made it through the first bottle of wine after little more than an hour, chatting about their time apart as if it had never really occurred—talking to Xó had always been easy. Maybe that’s why she was a therapist (duh). Wyatt, for all his charm, was barely able to follow along as she spoke about her field of work, finding that he relied much more on wit and being able to convince someone that what he wanted was what they wanted than he actually understood other people. Or himself, for that matter. 

“That’s fascinatin’. You must be real good at readin’ people then, yeah? Does that ever get exhaustin’, or is it somethin’ you can like… turn off?” He let a brief pause pass between them before adding, “I hope you can, ‘cause I’m bettin’ tryin’ to read me would give you a right headache.” He was sitting beside her on the couch, arm slung across her shoulders, legs sticking out beneath the coffee table as he settled in comfortably. 

—

Wine and food and good conversation made time pass quickly. Time with Wyatt always did, but in the best sort of way. The best sort of way, minus the fact that it meant that time with him came to an end sooner than she would’ve liked. Which Xóchitl was keen to avoid today, at least. She wasn’t sure how successful she’d wind up being, but trying something mattered, didn’t it?

She wanted time with her friend, and besides, it was nice to look at Wyatt’s smile and know just how warm he was, and how easily he made her smile. Not that smiling was always hard, but Wyatt was undoubtedly on the list of people who always (always) understood just how to get Xóchitl to smile, even when she really wasn’t feeling up to it.

“I guess I am real good at that, huh?” She smirked at her friend. “I don’t try to read my friends, Wyatt, and I don’t try to do it all the time anyhow.” Xóchitl leaned against Wyatt’s chest, fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on the fabric of his shirt. “Don’t worry, this is all just us two. We can talk about, or do, whatever it is that you’d be up for. The food was, unsurprisingly, exceptional.”

—

“Mm, fair… probably best not to, eh? You’d get real sick of us.” Wyatt suspected that if she was ever upset with someone she might try to figure out what the hell was going on with them, but he’d never been on the opposite end of that particular emotion. No, he and Xó only had good memories together, and he aimed to keep it that way. 

The feel of her nails against his skin, even through the barrier of his shirt, had him straightening his spine a little bit. He smiled down at her, brushing her hair from her face and tucking it behind her ear as she spoke, assuring him that it was just them. Just them, and whatever they wanted to say… or do. Hm. 

He lifted a brow, craning his neck down to speak against the top of her head. “Well… I ain’t much of a linguistic genius, we both know that, but there’s loads of things we can do that I’m pretty good at,” he hummed suggestively. “Exceptional, even. Not to toot my own horn, but, ah…” The smirk remained as she predictably turned her head to look up at him, and his bright blue gaze fell to her lips.

—

“Well, I don’t think I’ll ever get sick of you, so…” Xóchitl shrugged. Not that she was going to think too much about that, because Wyatt had only just wound up back in her life again, and as much as she was one to catastrophize, she’d try to put it off at least for a little while, with him. Especially seeing as she’d only just gotten him back, and that was partially her fault, but still. It was good, and she could be selfish and take everything good that was offered to her.

(Not that there always was a lot of that, and Xóchitl didn’t even mean that in a way of self-pity, but more scientific fact).

His hand on her hair felt nice, and so did him tucking it behind her ear, and he smelled just like how she remembered, back, all those years ago. Even if it wasn’t the identical scent, it was the feeling, more than anything else, about it all, and Xóchitl felt her whole body relax against his, the comforting feeling of being curled into him one that she wasn’t going to stop relishing any time soon.

His words carried a more suggestive tone, then, and that much she could work with. “Being a linguistic genius is overrated anyways, and I’d love to see some of those things you’re good at.” Xóchitl looked up at him. “I think you deserve to praise yourself, and I’ll tell you that there are some things I’m also rather excellent at.” She brushed a finger against his jawline. “Besides, I’m flexible in more ways than one, and as bad of a line that is, let me tell you that I’m truly down for most anything. I think I’d like to see some of what you’re exceptional at, if you’d be so kind as to show me?”

—

Wyatt Barlow was many things, but overly cautious was not one of them. He rarely thought things through before acting, which is probably why he'd been pit fighting for more than half his life, and why he had no real relationships to speak of. He was, in every sense of the word, ephemeral. Flighty. Whim-prone, and right now his whim was curled against his side, touching his face, and telling him how flexible she was. There was no clearer sign in the universe, and the blinking neon might've blinded him had it been anything more than metaphorical. 

“And what sort of friend would I be if I didn't oblige when you've asked me so nicely?” he teased, leaning down to catch her lips in a kiss. It was gentle at first, or at least as gentle as was possible for Wyatt, but quickly devolved into something much more needy and ravenous.

Funnily enough, this hadn't been the intention behind tonight's visit, but it wasn't a detour he was looking to complain about, not by a long shot.

—

His kiss felt good, and it felt even better when Wyatt’s kisses turned more frantic, more hungry, and she’d wanted this for years, since they’d met and Wyatt had decided to be something of a gentleman, or whatever, but now he very much wasn’t being that, and Xóchitl was more than okay with that, as she pulled him against her body. “You wouldn’t be a very good friend, especially since I have asked so nicely.” She pouted for a moment before her grin turned into something far more mischievous – and, for that matter, sensual.

She pulled away from Wyatt for a moment, only to rid herself of her shirt before her mouth found his again. “Since you’re being such a good friend, I think we should take this to my room. Only the best for you, of course,” her kisses were frenetic this time, as she walked backwards, towards her room, pulling him along, until they were on her bed, and something about all of this felt so good and Xóchitl was also more than just a little pleased with herself.

After, she looked over to him, and couldn’t help but remark that, “well, it’s about time, Wyatt. See, though, told you I can use my mouth for much more than just talking. Been telling you that for years, too.” She turned more fully to face him, placing a kiss on his jaw. “Hope that was worth it. Happy to do a repeat any time you’d like.”

—

“And you sure weren’t lyin’, sweetheart,” Wyatt remarked in turn, grinning at her when she moved to better face him. “‘N hey, I was tryin’ to be polite!” It was more that he enjoyed the chase, enjoyed every moment of tension that led up to nights like this, finding the whole experience far more satisfying if there was something at stake. Stakes were the kind of thing that kept him interested, after all. 

Humming softly as she kissed him again, the lamia raised his brows. “Oh yeah? Well, how ‘bout I take you out first next time, treat you to a proper night on the town, hm?” He wasn’t the sort to just show up looking for a bedfellow, no… there had to be some kind of preamble. Maybe it was all the lessons from his mother about treating people right, but it was a habit that was hard to kick. Hell, even Owen was always wined or dined first, or whatever sort of act of service Wyatt could manifest in however little time the slayer had given him. 

Running a hand through her hair, he let it fall piece by piece back to her bare shoulder, smirking to himself. “Kick me out when you get tired of me,” he offered, not wanting to overstay his welcome. “But I can stay tonight if you’d prefer, dove.”

—

“I try not to lie – at least as far as about things like this.” Xóchitl shrugged. “Well, I hope the wait was worth it, though for the record, I wouldn’t have thought you were rude if you’d been quote-unquote rude before now. Just so we’re clear.” But it was also nice, how he hadn’t just wanted to jump into bed with her, even despite all her attempts.

The feeling of his skin under her lips felt nice. “Not sure how much of a proper night on the town this town can give, but I won’t say no, obviously.” She never would, to attention specifically designed for her, for her to be treated specially. From someone like Wyatt, someone she’d actually known for quite a while, there was something about all of that that felt even more worth it, more fulfilling in its own sort of way. “We could always go somewhere more exciting, but I do trust you to make any town something fun.” Which she did. Wyatt was fun, hanging out with him was fun, so even if her hometown wasn’t nearly as exciting as Boston or New York City, Xóchitl figured the two of them could make it a whole lot of fun on their own.

Xóchitl also was in no way opposed to the way he brushed his hand through her hair. “I mean, all of this has been fantastic, and you’re my friend, so I don’t think you could really overstay your welcome.” Her smile, though still smirk-adjacent, was also real, and she hoped he could tell that. “I wouldn’t say no to that. In fact, I’d say a very enthused yes. Especially because I’m not so sure I’m totally ready to be alone in bed…” She shifted closer to him, pressing another kiss on his lips.

[percontaion-points]

The Boy Who Sneaks in my Bedroom Window chapters 1 & 2

Today's review might be difficult for some; reader discretion is advised

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions

Click here for the rest of the series!

Chapter 1

He was a cute kid, with blond hair and grey eyes with brown flecks in them. He was my big brother, and as big brothers went, he was the best.

It seems kind of odd that she’d describe her older brother as being “a cute kid”. 

 Jake was ten, and was two years older than me, so he always helped with my school work

There is waaaaay too much telling going on right now. 

Also, I didn’t forget to copy the period… There was none in that sentence. Joy. I can feel the headache coming on already. 

“What are you doing here, Liam?” I whispered, wiping my face, but the tears continued to fall.

[...]

“I saw you through the window. I just wanted to come and make sure you were alright,” he whispered back, still hugging me tightly. 

Okay, so the reviews warned that this story suffers from Absent Parent Syndrome©, so IDK why I even bother asking this, but…

So this literal ten year old boy sees Amber crying up in her room, climbs up to knock on the window, and comes in… Yet he himself can’t be assed to tell his parents? Or a teacher? Or literally any grown-up in his life?

 I shuddered at the thought of what my father would do if he had walked in here to find Liam in the house at night-time.

Chapter 1 summary: We’re introduced to 8 year old Amber, who has been living under the tyrannical thumb of her abusive father for the past three years. Although she says that they have a large house in the nicer part of town, she wishes that they could go back to how things used to be, before her father accepted a terrible job. 

Over dinner, Amber accidentally knocks over her drink, which causes her father to lose his cool. He starts yelling at her and hitting her, but when her older brother, Jake, tries to step in and protect her, dad takes his frustration out on him instead.

Later, Amber is in her room when a neighbour boy randomly climbs up to Amber’s window and holds her as she cries. He ends up spending the night with her, which freaks her out. Not because of Liam, but because what daddy-dearest might have done if he’d found Liam in Amber’s bed. 

Chapter 2

[image description: A screenshot of the first page of the second chapter of the book. It has two different fonts that switch back and forth every couple of paragraphs. End description.]

Okay, so I need to highlight this. And I seriously don’t know if this is the PDF, or if this book is seriously like this. 

But does everybody else see this? The fact that there are two different fonts on this page? What the hell is going on? 

Of course I looked harassed, I had half an hour to get showered and dressed.

Okay, so first off, she actively CHOOSES to wake up and only have 30 minutes to get ready for school. So I don’t exactly have a lot of sympathy for her.

Also… Harassed? Are you sure that’s the correct word to use right here? ARE YOU SURE?!

Well, I say left, but in reality Jake and Liam came home early from hockey one day to see that my father had beaten me senseless, and was trying to rape me. Jake had finally snapped, and he and Liam had beaten the crap out of him, almost killing him in the process. They had thrown him out of the house and told him that if he ever came back, they would kill him. He never came back though, that was three years ago. 

Calling the police? Lol what’s that?!

I also love how casually she talks about this. Like it was simply another day. “What did I do today? I went to the store, and then the park. Then my dad tried to rape me, but it was okay because Jake and Liam beat him up. Then I went to the movies.” 

They had thrown him out of the house and told him that if he ever came back, they would kill him. He never came back though, that was three years ago. 

A little while after that, my mom got a job with a huge electronics firm, she was the PA to the director and so she travelled a lot. She was gone twice as much as she was here, so we only saw her for about one week a month, if that. Jake was my only supervision, although at times it was more like I was the one taking care of him. 

As I said, Absent Parent Syndrome©. 

Liam was also very protective of me, but we still didn’t get on - even though he had literally spent every single night wrapped around me in my bed for the last eight years.

Uh-huh. Right. 

 She had dated Liam for a little while, well, if by dating you mean having sex a few times, and then getting dropped. She still wasn’t over it and wanted him back, much to his disgust. 

I have been warned that this is the majority of this book. Joy, I can’t wait. 

 “How the hell can you be unaffected by how freaking hot they are? I mean, you’re so lucky to live with Jake! I would love to watch his hot ass walk around all day,” she purred, fanning her face.

It’s bad enough that we have to have a book in which Amber was almost raped by her father. Do we also have to have weird implications that Amber should be lusting after her own brother?

… so I knew that my brother and his friends were arriving in the canteen. 

Canteen? Yes, it’s technically correct, but I seriously don’t know of a single person who would call a school cafeteria a “canteen”. 

Great, just great! [Liam] was driving me home. Fantastic. He always made the drive home as long as possible just to annoy the life out of me. Then, he insisted on waiting at my house until my brother came home, which meant that I had to cook for him too. Damn it, he is so annoying!

Or you could… Not make him food. 

I’m not quite convinced that Amber’s life improved all that much when her father left. Not if she’s still expected to be subservient to a man who pushes himself onto her 24/7. 

“Hey, where you going?” the other guy asked, grabbing my hand. 

My heart started to race as I looked around, frantically. “I’m looking for my boyfriend,” I lied, trying to sound confident. 

“Boyfriend? I don’t see a boyfriend[...]”

Yes, that’s why she’s LOOKING FOR HIM, dipshit. 

“I hate rushing around; I’ve looked and felt like shit all day,” I cried acidly. 

I… I simply feel like the author thinks that she’s picking the correct adjective, but in actuality, every single one she selects comes off as clunky and awkward. 

THERE IS LITERALLY NOT ONE SINGLE THING WRONG WITH “SAID”. FUCKING USE IT. 

“Goodnight, Angel,” he replied, kissing the back of my head.

Chapter 2 summary: 8 years later, and now Amber is 16, which puts Liam and Jake at 18. He’s been spending literally every goddamned night with her. 

As mentioned, almost in passing, Amber’s and Jake’s dad tried to rape her one day. Liam and Jake happened to come home at that time, so they beat him up and kicked him out of the house. They haven’t heard from him for the past three years. Also, mummy-dearest is absent, which allows for a lot of… well. Stuff that she probably wouldn’t allow if she was actually there. Like Liam spending every goddamned night with Amber. 

The three of them go to school, where some random girl tries to hook up with Liam, but Amber slut-shames her. Then she hangs out with her friends, who ask why she hasn’t tapped either of the boys. Amber is more horrified over the thought of them suggesting she should hook up with her own brother. But she also tells the readers that despite everything, she and Liam are barely friends. Which seems like an odd choice to make, but sure. 

I would also like the record to state that every second I spent being forced to read the interactions of Amber and her friends, I could literally feel my IQ dropping. 

After school, Liam gives some excuse as to what Jake is doing, but it’s literally not important. He and Amber go to the store, where Amber is sexually harassed by some random boys. Liam has to rescue her. 

She later gives him dinner, and they watch a movie together. Liam leaves for a bit, but comes back so that he can spend his night with her once again. 

[530nsn]

03:12 02012024

i cannot believe it. that’s how i begin every year. me in utter disbelief that the previous year has ended. but not this year. i couldn’t have bared this year any longer. 2023 was a lot nicer than 2022 for sure, but i was lonely.

i know i know… im always alone and im a loner by nature, but for the first time in years i felt lonely, craving intimacy. i can’t even bare admitting it. still, i felt liberated from many things, i got a couple jobs and a pretty stable one, my gpa increased by a whole point and a half, and my relationship with my mother got better. but i was so lonely throughout all of it. im not sure why, i think its because i wanted to be in a close circle friends so badly that i pushed all of it away. i tried too hard. it hurts me.

another thing is by self as a face and body, personality aside, i cannot stand how I look. i never did, except for maybe a brief period during quarantine. where i had chemically straightened hair and bangs and dressed in a very distinct style. unlike now where i am the most basic looking person in the room, with my average damaged curly hair and my below average face with a million flaws. no amount of makeup can fix. i hate myself beyond words could describe. not just because of my unsettling face and awkward body but also my unsettling awkwardness and awful personality. i am literally the worst. i can’t stand being me. i hate my self.

this year, i decided im not even going to acknowledge any of that, i don’t care. i’m going to overlook my personal issues with myself and just do stuff. read, eat, watch films, exercise and learn. i want to create and allow my misery to fuel it. that’s when im most creative anyways. because im so unhappy in my skin, i found myself directing my energy in creative observations and tangents that i previously was unable to even think of. and that’s the way it always has been and the way it will always be.

i just drove my brother to the airport and hour ago with my family and i was wearing flip flops, a white t shirt and jeans and my uncombed messy ruined curls with a claw clip holding the front stands backwards. no make up of course. and i was about to cry when i realized halfway there that i look so ugly. i didn’t care about what the people thought of me, i care that i let myself be like that. it’s not in my hand that i look the way that i do but i can perform minor things ha here and there to make my self appear a little more presentable. i could straighten my hair, put a little make up, paint my nails etc… but i’ve been doing that for the longest time and at the end of every day i still wallow at how nothing can make me beautiful.

i don’t know what to do or how to solve this. i’m ugly. i’m tall, boyish with boobs, awkward and with really bad hair. that’s who i am, nothing more or less. and i have to accept that as the truth and move on because it affects me too much. i hate that.

[regenderate-fic]

When I Run Away (You're Who I Run To): Chapter 4

main post read on ao3

Word Count (Chapter): 3,240

Yaz felt warm. There was someone next to her, a pressure against her body— a good pressure, solid flesh next to hers. And— it felt like something was controlling her, some kind of fate, as she rolled over, eyes still closed, and felt her lips brush against someone else’s. Her hand came up, ran across soft hair— long hair, smooth, thinner than her own. She sighed at the gentle pressure of fingertips against the back of her neck. She pressed herself closer, chasing the smooth warmth from the other person’s body, and she let herself relax into it. 

“Rose,” she breathed into soft skin— and then she froze. Rose?

She jolted awake, forcing her eyes open. It was still dark in her room, the sun not risen yet. She still felt uncomfortably immersed in the dream, trying to shake off the echo of a hand in her hair, the ghost of warm lips on hers. 

She checked the time. She had a couple hours before she had to actually be awake— enough to get more sleep. She curled up again, closing her eyes. 

When she woke up a few hours later, it was to the strange sense that there should've been a warm body next to hers. 

 She sat up, shaking her head. She didn't generally think of herself as lonely— she spent most of her time with Rose, after all. But whatever had happened in her dream had left her wanting something different. 

Well. She'd been friends with Rose for eight years now. It would've been weird if she hadn't had a dream about her in all that time. Especially given that Yaz hadn’t actually been on a date in ages— she tried, sometimes, but she could never really manage online dating, and she never seemed to meet people she wanted to date in real life. Before she’d gotten disillusioned with her old job on the police force, her sister had always said she was “married to her job”— considering she’d been about nineteen at the time, “married” had seemed like a strong word, especially since she hadn’t even liked the job in the end. But now that she had a job she was committed to, and a flat and a shop with her best friend, and friends in London, and the promise of new friends, she had to admit she felt fairly fulfilled without going out and looking for men to have awkward encounters with. 

Unless her dream was to be believed. She still felt the brush of fingertips against her cheek.

She got up. Dream or no dream, she had to get on with her day. She got dressed in her favorite dark jeans and long-sleeved button-up. She especially liked button-ups because she could leave them just a little bit open at the top to show the three stars she had tattooed on her collarbone: she liked long sleeves, but she was still a tattoo artist, and when people went to get ink on their bodies, they were a little bit put off if the person inking them didn’t have some visible ink of their own. And the stars were one of Yaz’s favorite tattoos. She’d let Rose do it, actually, years ago: Rose wasn’t exactly qualified as a tattoo artist, but she was a good artist in general, and responsible with needles, and Yaz had taught her the basics of how to use the machine with the understanding that she wouldn’t use it on anyone but herself and Yaz. The stars were a simple design, and they’d come out nice— a lot nicer than Yaz had expected, really. Rose took any body modification seriously, and it showed in the meticulous positioning of each star.

Yaz had a fleeting image of fingers brushing against the tattoo, touching each star in turn, and she shook herself. She had a big day ahead of her: it wouldn’t do to be caught up in a half-gone dream. 

There was a lot that had to be done. Their event was starting at noon, but before that they had to put up signs, decorate the space, set out snacks— anything they could think of to prepare the studio for the day ahead. Yaz’s dream was still in the back of her mind; it was one of those dreams, apparently, that stuck with you, shaped the day you were going to have. It was annoying, really. Yaz needed her focus. She needed to be able to exchange her usual casual banter with Rose, and she needed to do it without constantly monitoring whether her gaze was lingering for a second too long on the shine of Rose’s hair or the curve of her neck.

Fortunately, Rose didn’t seem to notice anything. And Yaz was busy enough that distraction came fast. She had a studio to set up, flash sheets to lay out, conversations to have with Rose and Bill and Amy. Rose had advertised the event on their social media pages, and she was saying she was expecting a good few people— which gave Yaz something new to worry about. It was a relief, really: being nervous about whether or not anyone would actually show up and whether or not people would like her work was a lot more straightforward than the nebulous confusion that had come in the wake of her dream.

Finally, it was noon. Perhaps predictably, Penny was the first one there: the second the hour hit, she was walking through the doors, staring around at the streamers and confetti Rose had thrown everywhere. 

“This is nice,” she said, plucking a strawberry off one of the platters they’d balanced on Amy’s desk. “‘Course, I thought it was nice before. But the confetti does add a certain something. You should keep it.” She opened her mouth wide, her nose wrinkling, and popped the strawberry in, leaves and all.

“We might have to,” Rose said. “I’m not sure we’re going to manage to clean it all up.”

“Could make it our brand,” Yaz said. She glanced around. The space was nice with all the color they’d put into it— maybe she could talk Rose into painting a mural on one of the walls or something. 

Penny swallowed, wiping juice from her chin with the back of her hand. “Good fruit,” she said. “Right. So what’s this whole event about?”

Yaz laughed. “We’re trying to get people to check out the business,” she said. “We’re offering discounts on flash tattoos and piercings.” She nodded at the fruit platter. “And snacks, of course.” 

“When you say flash tattoos,” Penny said. “What is that?”

Yaz gestured at the wall, where she’d hung the flash sheets she was working with. “You just pick one of these designs, and then I put it on your body. Pretty straightforward, really.”

“Oh!” In two steps, Penny was peering at the designs, leaning in close with her hands on her hips. “That’s brilliant.” She looked back at Yaz. “You’re a very good artist.”

Yaz shrugged. “Some of the designs are Rose’s, technically. I’m just the one with the training.”

“Then you’re both very good artists,” Penny said. She pointed at a simple design of a four-leaf clover. “Can I get that one?”

Yaz jumped. “You want a tattoo?”

Penny looked at her. “Isn’t that what the shop is for?”

“Yeah, just— you’re sure? You decided really fast.”

“I dunno,” Penny said. “What’s wrong with living a little? Besides, I like the design, and I’d like to see the rest of the shop.”

“We can just show you the rest of the shop,” Yaz said, halfway to a laugh. “You don’t have to get permanent ink on your body about it.”

“Oh, I know.” Penny stepped back, looking at Yaz with earnest eyes. “The ink is a bonus.”

“Right, then.” Yaz glanced at Rose. “If you really want to see the shop, maybe we’ll show you the prices, have you sign some paperwork, and then Rose can show you her studio, and then we’ll get to the tattoo?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

As it turned out, Penny was loads of fun when it came to showing her new things. She stared around Rose’s studio, asking questions about everything she could see, from the autoclave in the corner to the shape of the chair. It was ten minutes before they made their way into Yaz’s studio— and then just as they did, Yaz heard someone else open the door.

“I’ll go say hi,” Rose said, and she left: it was just Yaz and Penny in her studio. Penny hopped up onto the tattoo bed, kicking her legs.

“Right,” Yaz said. She gestured at the room. “This is my space.” She turned to the table where she’d laid out her stencils and picked up one of the four-leaf clover designs before looking back at Penny. “Setup’s not too different from the other studio, except I keep a lot more ink. And space to draw.”

Penny was looking over Yaz’s shoulder at her desk, where a few of her designs and Bill’s were stacked up next to her tablet. “I can see that.”

Yaz smiled. She came a bit closer, holding up the stencil. “Right. Where d’you want the design?”

Penny thought for a moment. “Upper arm,” she said, and then she glanced down at the area, which was covered by her shirts: long sleeves under short sleeves. “Oh, I suppose you’ll have to get to it.” Before Yaz could say anything, she grabbed the hem of her shirts and pulled up.

“You don’t have to do that,” Yaz protested, but it was too late— Penny had already committed. Yaz turned half-away. “You can keep the short-sleeved shirt on,” she said. “If you want to.”

Penny shrugged. “I’m not bothered, really.”

Yaz took a deep breath. She was, of course, faced with shirtless people nearly every day, in her line of work— but they weren’t usually people she knew. And there was something about Penny’s seeming lack of self-consciousness that had Yaz a bit flustered.

She allowed herself one moment to close her eyes and pull herself together. It was all just skin, she reminded herself. Just skin. She saw it every day.

“Right,” she said. “Have a seat and we can get started.” 

Penny hopped onto the tattoo bed, leaning back on her arms. Yaz approached, keeping her eyes on Penny’s face.

“Which arm?” she asked.

Penny tapped her left shoulder. “This one, I think.”

“You’ll want to be sure,” Yaz joked. She had her materials set out on a rolling cart— she pulled it over to sit next to Penny’s left arm. “I’m just going to start by shaving the area,” she said, pulling on a pair of disposable gloves.

“Oh? What for?” Penny asked, craning her neck to look. 

“Helps it not get infected,” Yaz explained. “A tattoo isn’t a really deep wound, but it is a wound. If hair gets caught in there, it’s higher risk for infection.” She picked up the disposable razor. The second she zeroed in on Penny’s arm, she felt much more at ease: her focus had narrowed, now, just to her work, just to the small patch of skin in front of her.

“I did a lot of Googling about tattoos after I came to visit the first time,” Penny said, breaking Yaz’s focus. “Learned a lot of interesting history. Piercings, too. I had no idea all the different parts of you you could put jewelry in.” She gestured as she spoke, her hands waving. 

Yaz stepped back, pulling the razor away. “Penny, you can’t talk if it means you’re going to move your arm.”

“Oh, right.” Penny stilled, and Yaz moved closer again. “Can I talk if I don’t move my arm?”

Yaz looked up at her earnest eyes. “If you’re sure you won’t move,” she said, injecting a healthy skepticism into her tone.

“I can do it,” Penny said. “I think.”

Yaz laughed. “I mean, the main consequence is that I’ll mess up the tattoo, and you’re the one who’s stuck with it.”

“Suppose so.” 

There was a moment of silence. Yaz finished shaving the area and moved on to cleaning it off. 

“Turns out trying to talk without moving my hands is harder than I thought,” Penny said.

“Yeah, can be.” Yaz was mostly focused on her work now, Penny’s words washing over her. 

“D’you have this problem a lot?” Penny asked. “People moving around, I mean.”

Yaz set down the wipe she’d been using. “Not sure I’ve ever had a client quite like you,” she said, the words coming out before she had a chance to think about what they meant. “You’re kind of excitable.”

Penny tilted her head to the side. “Suppose I am.”

Yaz smiled to herself. She leaned back. “Are we doing color? Could fill it in with whatever you like.”

“No,” Penny decided. “I like the lines.”

“And you can always come back if you want me to fill it in,” Yaz added. She picked up the stencil. Touching a spot on Penny’s arm, she asked, “Here good?”

“Think so.” 

Yaz nodded. “I’ll give you a chance to look at it before I actually start with the ink.” She lined up the stencil, paying careful attention to the design against the shape of Penny’s arm. The design was one of Rose’s, and one of Yaz’s favorites to tattoo for how easy it was to position: it looked good at just about any angle. And the purple ink of the stencil against Penny’s skin already looked nice. She picked up a mirror from her cart and held it up next to Penny’s arm. “Does this look good?”

Penny looked at it for a long moment. “Yeah,” she said. “Brilliant.”

“Right.” Yaz picked up the tattoo machine. “How are you with needles?”

For a moment, Penny’s expression flickered. “Depends on the needle,” she said. She nodded at the machine in Yaz’s hands. “That should be all right.” 

“Cool. It’ll probably hurt a bit. Tell me if you need to stop or anything.” 

Penny nodded, her jaw set.

Yaz started the tattoo. For all she’d been moving around earlier, Penny was impressively still: she didn’t even flinch as Yaz outlined the four-leaf clover. She didn’t try and talk anymore, either. She just sat like a statue as Yaz worked in silence, absorbed in the task of keeping her hands and lines steady.

 Finally, she pulled away, wiping the ink away from the skin one last time. 

“Is that it?” Penny asked, immediately animated again.

“Yep.” Yaz picked up her bandages. “Just got to bandage it and then you’re good to go.”

“Huh.” Penny glanced down at her arm. “Didn’t hurt as much as I thought it would.” 

“Yeah, how much it hurts really depends on the person,” Yaz said. “Everyone says the ribcage is the most painful, but then when I got mine done it wasn’t that bad at all. But then anything on my arms hurts terribly.” She shrugged. “It’s worth it, but still. And I’ve had a few people have to stop after five minutes, but I’ve also had some people say they didn’t feel it at all.” She nodded to the tattoo. “D’you like it?”

A grin appeared on Penny’s face. “I love it.”

Yaz grinned back. “That’s a relief, then. Considering I’ve still got to share a street with you. Can you imagine if I’d given you a bad tattoo, and you still had to look at our shop every day?” 

“Doesn’t bear imagining,” Penny agreed. 

Yaz leaned in again, wrapping up the tattoo. “I’ve got some instructions for how to take care of it,” she said. “They’re all written out. Basically, you don’t want to take it swimming or in the bath, you don’t want it to get too exposed to the sun, you’ve got to clean it twice a day, and I’ll give you something to moisturize with so it doesn’t dry out. Sound good?”

“‘Course.” 

“Right. That’s all.” Yaz stepped back. She nodded at Penny’s bare torso. “You can put your shirts back on.”

Penny jumped. “Oh! Almost forgot I even took them off. Would’ve been proper embarrassing if I’d just gone out there like this, yeah?”

Yaz laughed. At some point in the last twenty minutes, she’d remembered herself as a professional and gotten significantly less flustered at Penny’s shirtlessness— but she didn’t expect the same from anyone hanging out in the lobby. 

Penny pulled her shirts back over her head the same way she’d taken them off— both at once, with her limbs flailing against the fabric until she finally had the shirts the right way around with her arms in the sleeves. She adjusted the T-shirt, and then she hopped off the bed and said, “Thanks, Yaz.”

“Thank Rose, too,” Yaz said. “The design was hers, originally.”

“Oh, brilliant.” Penny lunged forward, and before Yaz could process what was happening, Penny’s arms were wrapped around her in a tight hug. Yaz just barely got it together enough to return the hug before Penny stepped back. “Right. Where do I pay?”

“Out front,” Yaz said, smiling. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

She brought Penny back out to the lobby. Amy was still at the reception desk, taking payments— and there were more visitors out there, too, looking around, eating the fruit and crisps they’d set out, talking to Bill. Rose was nowhere to be found, which hopefully was a sign that they were both getting business. 

“They’re queuing up for you,” Amy said to Yaz. She nodded to the person sitting in the chair nearest the door, a tall man with dark hair. “He’s up next.” She looked at Penny. “Checking out?”

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur. The weekend event had been a sound idea, it turned out: loads of people had turned up. It was a good thing Yaz knew how to work quickly. She brought person after person into her studio, setting up and executing the designs with as much efficiency as she could muster. She’d meant to have Bill there to observe some of it, but every time she went back into the lobby, Bill was deep in conversation with some of the people waiting, and so Yaz left her alone. It could only be a good thing, if there were enough people there for Bill to need to entertain.

By the time the day was over, all the confusion of the morning was well out of Yaz’s mind. She went down the street to pick up pizza for everyone, and she and Rose and Bill and Amy hung around in the lobby, a vague celebratory cheer in the air. 

Finally, though, Amy and Bill were gone, and it was just Yaz and Rose and a couple empty pizza boxes.

“We’ll have to clean this place up,” Yaz said, kicking at some of the confetti.

“It can wait until tomorrow, at least,” Rose said. Their plan was to be open from Tuesday to Saturday, giving them a semblance of a weekend on Sunday and Monday. Most weeks, that time would be theirs, to do their shopping and their laundry and (in Yaz’s case) attend her weekly aerial silk class— but this week, they would need to spend one of those days getting the confetti off the floor.

“Yeah, all right,” Yaz said. “Tomorrow.” 

And she and Rose climbed the steps to their flat together.

[chrissygotosleep]

sneak peak of Eddie Munson fic

Summary: Y/N has only been a resident of Hawkins for a couple of months, having moved from her home state of California to get away from an abusive ex-boyfriend. In the summer of 1989 she meets Eddie Munson at the local bar where he bartends and has to overcome her past trauma and trust issues while living her best smutty life with Eddie.

Pairing: fem!reader x Eddie, third person from reader and Eddie’s POV

A/N: I have literally 0 experience writing fanfic, so any constructive criticism is appreciated. Please be gentle with me :) THIS IS JUST A PREVIEW, it is not the full fic. I just wanted to put feelers out to see if I'm any good before I continue! This is just a rough draft!

Warnings: Fluff in the beginning and end with lots of mature content in the middle. Minors DNI! Bit of a slow burn. Reader and Eddie are both in their early 20’s. Idk what else to put for thew preview, if I'm missing anything please let me know.

Untitled, for now

Eddie:

He had been wiping down the bar counter when she walked in.

Eddie was finishing up his shift for the night at the bar he’d been working at since he finally graduated high school. He barely scraped through that so he knew college wasn’t going to do it for him. Instead, Eddie’s Uncle Wayne had a buddy who owned a local bar and got him a job there while he figured his life out. But after his uncle died last year Eddie had been living a life of relative solitude. He did his best to stay busy either working or attending band gigs with Corroded Coffin to avoid coming home to his empty trailer.

At least that was how it was until she came into his bar on a slow Saturday night. Eddie had never seen a woman like her in all his years in Hawkins. The way she dressed, the way she sauntered up to his bar, even the way she talked when she ordered herself a beer. A girl ordering a beer, seriously??

Eddie tried not to stare as he took her money for the drink, but she didn’t make it easy on him. Her breasts barely covered by the top that she wore briefly rested on the bartop as she reached for her drink and he guiltily looked away.

He decided to strike up a conversation with her, it was part of the job after all. Eddie did his best to sound as casual as possible when he asked, “I don’t think I’ve seen you in here before, you new here?”

Reader:

Y/N nervously entered the bar when she first laid his eyes on him.

She knew she was on her own for a while before her friends met her there, but she didn’t care about any of that when she saw the bartender for the first time. He had the kindest, deep brown eyes Y/N had ever seen; she couldn’t help herself from taking in his figure in the old band tee he wore with the sleeves ripped off and sides stretched down almost to his waist.

Y/N didn’t make it a habit to frequent bars and tried to play it cool by ordering the first thing that came to mind.

“Hi, I’ll have a beer, please.” A beer? Gross…” She knew she would be able to order something more to her tastes when Steve got here, he’d know what to order her. Until then she was desperate to appear nonchalant to this beautiful bartender.

As he poured her beer she took the chance to look harder at him without being obvious. Y/N was intrigued by the tattoos scattered on his arms and the long fluffy curls brushing his strong shoulders. She was startled back into reality when he asked her if she was new in town. Really? What a cliché question.

“Kind of, yeah. I moved here a couple months ago but I haven’t been around town too much,” she answered.

“Well, I could have told you that. You don’t exactly fit in,” the bartender said sarcastically with a small smile.

Y/N would have asked why he bothered asking her if he already knew, but she was grateful for his ice-breaking conversation.

“I guess you’re right! But it’s nice to meet you – Y/N,” she introduced herself  and bravely put her hand out to him. “Y/N! It’s even nicer to meet you, I’m Eddie. Eddie Munson.”

He put his warm hand into hers for a friendly shake, and it felt like a jolt of electricity went right through her. Eddie’s touch was doing something to her, and Y/N couldn’t help but to wonder how his hands would feel on other parts of her body. He quickly withdrew his hand, as though he felt the shock, too. Oh God, can he read my mind??

[taestefully-in-luv]

The Island | KTH (Eight)

Summary: You’re just two strangers waking up in a room on a lonely island where a company in the business of love has placed you. They believe that thanks to their in depth research you two are destined soulmates. What happens when your ‘soulmate’ and you want nothing to do with each other but falling in love is the only way to leave?

Pairing: Taehyung x Female reader

Genre: strangers to lovers, very slight enemies to lovers, soulmates au, roommate au, slow burn, fluff, smut, angst, slight crack, and drama.

Word Count: 10.7k

Warnings: swearing, sexual tension (?) mentions of sex, someone gets punched by someone,

Notes: Enjoy this chapter guys:) Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist, or send an ask if just want to chat about the stories!:)

Taglist: @ggukkieland @707sblog @peacedreamer14 @dopedreamfireparty @everythingnamjoon @taebae19 @typicalgenzworld @mooniyooni @helenazbmrskai @justinetingball @jpeachytaev @marplest @calling-dips-on-j-hope @lecavivien @fancycollectormoon @mawwnsterr

© taestefully-in-luv

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The room you are in is as cold and empty as you feel. The one single table with 3 chairs, 2 on one side and the one you are currently occupying across from them. The room feels chilling like ghosts haunt it. Maybe they do, you think. The silence is truly deafening and the wait for these 2 other chairs to be filled makes you anxious. It’s been a few months since you have been back here and it makes you uncomfortable each time but you know little by little you are receiving answers.

Finally, after a long wait the heavy door to the room screeches open. And in comes a man and woman in professional clothing—he in a suit and the woman in a dress suit. They smile at you awkwardly like they feel pity. They both pull out their chair and take a seat.

“Have you found it yet? The island?” you’re quick to blurt out and they nervously look at one another before frowning.

“It isn’t that easy unfortunately Miss y/l/n. We’ve been in search of this company for over 50 years.” The woman taps her fingers on the table. “We have yet to find them or this island you speak of.”

You can’t help the scoff that escapes you as you roll your eyes to the side.

“What kind of intel agency is this? You can’t even find some lame ass fucking love company.” You spit out.

The man hardens his eyes at you as he takes a long, deep breath. Obviously trying to gather his patience.

“Here’s what we do know.” He begins. “They tapped your home, your cell, all of your accounts and spied on you for over a year. Doing their…” he pauses, biting his lip. “Research…”

“And drugged you and your parents the night of the kidnapping.” The woman picks up where he left off, “And then they drugged you again to return you home and also your parents…assuming so it wasn’t to wake them while they were in your home…” she gulps…she understands how invasive this all is.

“You didn’t think to set up cameras around my parent’s house? For when they would return me? You didn’t think to keep an eye—”

“We did.” The man clears his throat, “But they….” He drags his hand down his tired face, “This company is smart. They obviously know what they are doing. The night of your return the cameras we had set up miraculously stopped working.”

You can’t help the laughter that erupts from your body. You begin shaking your head in disbelief, your laughter dying when you realize how serious this is.

“This is fucking bullshit.” You say with a tight lip smile. “Anyway…do you…do you guys…did you look into what I asked of you?” your eyes slide to the side as you nervously pull at the ends of your hair.

“The man you were with? Kim Taehyung…yes, we looked into it. We have been working with Korea’s intel in hopes to solve this case. He has been working together with them. I cannot release any personal information though.” The woman eyes her partner and her frown deepens. “Miss y/l/n…I know this is difficult and you two have been through a lot together. But I am sure you can find a way to reach out—”

“I just wanted to know how he is doing is all.” You cut her off, “It’s fine.”

~~~~~

You stare at the letter in your hands, it’s an off white color and the font in quite fancy. Your parents let you see it a few weeks after you returned home but every night you take it in your hands and stare at it. Not knowing how to take it. The company sent it to them the day you disappeared…explaining the company’s goals. They sent photos of you and Taehyung every week to prove you were alive and well. Your parents said this is what kept them sane…trusting you were okay because they couldn’t—wouldn’t accept any other reality.

Your heart aches thinking of what your parents must have been through but not just them…your sister found out through your mom and dad about the situation and she grew so worried without you. When she found out you were returned home she immediately came to you, sobbing in your arms and hasn’t left you since.

You set the letter down and pick up the pile of photos on your night stand…it’s a thick stack. You begin shuffling through them and you feel like someone has stabbed you in the chest with a dull knife and they begin to carve your heart out. It’s slow and painful…they finally take your slow beating heart and squeeze it in their hands, blood spilling and spilling. Killing you.

Some photos are just of you but majority you are accompanied by Taehyung and seeing his smiling face makes you relieve the experience of getting your heart carved out of your chest.

You glance up at your ceiling as tears begin building in your eyes, you try to blink them back, your eyes opening and closing repeatedly. But it’s no use, not when you feel this lost and hopeless. Suddenly, there is knocking on your bedroom door and your father is walking in.

“Ready sweetie? Got the rest of your things?” He steps into the room, a worried expression on his face but he tries to hide it behind a forced smile. “We should get going.”

You quickly sniffle and nod your head, shoving the stack of photos and letter into your backpack before you’re swinging it over your shoulders.

“Yup, ready.”

It’s moving day. Thankfully you found another job in your old town that you lived in, you found a new, better apartment that is close to where you use to live, you finally are getting out of your parents hair.

“Alright let’s get this show on the road!” your dad pats you on the back as you walk past him. He’s got the truck loaded and ready to go for the couple hour drive. Back to the city!

~

“This place is so much nicer than your last!” Your sister sets a box down on your new kitchen counter, “You actually have a decent sized kitchen! Not that you really cook.” She laughs.

“Hey!” you whine, “I told you I learned quite a bit of cooking while on the island.”

“You also told me that your boyfriend cooked a lot too…so I’ll just assume he did all the work.” She teases and your face falls.

“He isn’t my boyfriend.” Your lips curls so far down that it’s almost comical but alas, it is not because you feel your eyes sting.

“Sorry…” your sister walks to the living room, joining you. She reaches for the box in your arms and sets it down on the floor. “y/n…just message him.”

“…I can’t.” you feel your chest start to burn, “The way things got left…I don’t know how to speak to him.” you admit. “and it’s been so long. If he hasn’t already moved on then he at least hates my guts.”

“Yeah I probably would too.” Your sister nods her head and you swat her arm.

“Thanks Ellie.” You deadpan. “Anyway, I just can’t.”

“He is probably waiting for you…he loves you.”

“You don’t know him?” you laugh quietly, “So how would you know?”

“I’ve seen the pictures of you two, in the moment pictures, and dude, he looks so taken with you in every single one.”

You can’t help the way your heart drops to your stomach. You told him you thought your feeling may not be real…those are some of your last words to him and that kills you. Without a doubt he has had to have moved on from you…why would he torture himself?

~

Later that night you are snuggled up in your bed with your sister snoozing beside you. You have your phone (Damn you missed this device) and are scrolling through Taehyung’s Instagram. You notice he posted a new group photo just 4 hours ago. You look at all the tags and see all his friends…Namjoon, Jin, Yoongi, Hobi, Jimin and Jungkook. But there are also a few girls in the photo. You notice the tag for Hana. You hate that your heart completely stops beating in your chest then suddenly starts racing. Hana. He’s hanging out with Hana? Wait, why are you surprised? You take a deep breath and click her name to view her page and then that’s when your heart really stops. Her most recent photo is of her and Taehyung, their faces smooshed together with wide smiles on their faces with the caption “Missed you.” With pink hearts.

She’s pretty. Really fucking pretty. No wonder Taehyung liked her. Liked? Or likes? Are they together now? They look awfully close. You feel your eyes sting for the millionth time this day and they begin to bubble with tears. This is your fault. You pushed him away, so far away, into another woman’s arms. You start to feel lost and hopeless again…you decide stalking Taehyung through social media probably isn’t the healthiest thing for you or your heart. You continue scrolling on Hana’s page…she has lots of photos with friends, pretty Korean scenery, selfies and more. She looks lively and beautiful, oh so fucking beautiful.

You exit the app and click your phone off. You squeeze your eyes shut and a few pathetic tears that you do not deserve slide out and down your face. You really need to move on, you really need to focus on you. But how can you when a huge part of you feels like it’s been ripped from you? Taehyung was a part of you and you think he still is. You feel crushed, fucking crushed. He is probably with Hana now and you absolutely cannot blame him.

Taehyung is doing fine. Just fine. With or without you. And that reality is setting in and it hurts. It fucking hurts. But you have no one to blame but yourself.

“Why are you doing this, huh? Things were so perfect.” He stops in front of you and pulls you up by the arms. Your chests almost touch from how close you are. “Unless…” he looks down at his feet, “You’re saying all of this because that’s how you feel. You’re the one unsure of your feelings. You’re the one who only likes me—loves me—because there’s no one else.” He looks into your eyes, searching for an answer.

“Maybe.” You finally say. And you wish you didn’t because Taehyung releases a shaky breath and his brows crease together as he forms the saddest smile you have ever seen. The canvas of his life is full of beautiful bright colors but you continue to splatter blue and grey paint all over it. The paint mixes together and drips down, a gloomy mess.

“Oh.” He steps back. “I see.” He takes another step back, carding his fingers through his hair. He looks into your eyes as his gloss over, “I’ll leave you alone then.” And he turns around and walks out of the room, leaving you behind.

Why does this scene replay in your mind every single day. Every single night. His sad, sad expression leaving an ever lasting imprint in your mind. You feel broken, but you also feel angry. How dare the company send you back when you and Taehyung have so much to resolve? What is the purpose? What are their intentions? You ball the sheets in your hands as you release breath after frustrated breath. What was the point of all this? Somewhere deep in your gut you feel like this isn’t over. You feel like the company still has some ties to you…you can’t explain it…just a gut feeling.

To say you hate yourself is an understatement. You truly can’t stand to even look yourself in the mirror. You ruined the best thing that has ever happened to you—Taehyung. But you should be happy, right? He’s doing well. He has his friends, his family, Hana. He is absolutely 100% doing just fine and you have to accept that.

~~~~~

“You can’t live like this dude.” Namjoon throws a trash bag on to Taehyung’s bed, signaling him to use it.

“Yeah…Joon is right.” Jimin starts picking up some trash off the floor…mostly empty food containers. “This is getting out of hand. I know things haven’t been easy—”

Jimin is cut off with Taehyung groaning loudly and dramatically. He lifts his head off his pillow, his face evident with sleep as he eyes his two friends in his apartment.

“Get up.” Namjoon lightly kicks the bed with his foot, “And open a damn window or something.”

“And maybe take a shower. You reek of this hangover I am sure you have…” Jimin sits down on the edge of the bed, his hand going to Taehyung’s back, rubbing it soothingly. “She isn’t coming around Tae.” Jimin says as softly as possible, “She isn’t—”

“We don’t know that.” Taehyung cuts him off, grumbling. “She could.”

“You said it yourself, she isn’t sure of her feelings…why aren’t you letting it go?” Namjoon sits down on the bed as well.

“I know her.” Taehyung begins to sit up from his place in bed, his hand flying up to his pounding head. “Fuck. I’m hungover.” He complains.

“You went too hard last night.” Jimin frowns, “Again.”

“So what? You think she lied to you? That she does love you?”

“She was just scared.” Taehyung whispers. “Trust me, I know her.” He repeats again.

Jimin and Namjoon share a look of pity mixed with concern. Jimin stands from the bed, taking the trash bag with him, he opens it up and starts filling it with the garbage around the apartment. Taehyung just watches Jimin clean up and he starts to feel a sense of guilt. Maybe he has been a handful the last few months.

Taehyung is trying his best though.

The unfamiliar bed along with the unfamiliar room was indication enough that Taehyung was in a place without you. It only took him halves of seconds to realize he was in his parents’ home in their spare room. A place he didn’t frequent very often. But he understood his situation right away. The island returned him home to Korea but suddenly this place feels like the last place like home.

When he made his existence known to his mother and father they cried over and over for their son. His father going on about his regrets, how he wishes he would have supported Taehyung more in following his own dreams and so on. His mother wishing she had cooked his favorite meal more often. They basically took his disappearance on the island as his death. At least that’s how Taehyung sees it.

His parents’ received the letter as well, even the photographs. They know all about you. They know that Taehyung is in love, they know Taehyung heart aches. They know everything. They were honestly rooting for you two…they could see how much love went on between the two of you even through pictures.

But as the days went on, as the weeks went on and as the months went on, Taehyung started to feel like he is withering away with every day that passed that you did not reach out to him. Did your time on the island with him mean nothing to you? Even if you ‘maybe’ weren’t in love with him like you claimed you were still friends for god’s sake. You still without a doubt had a powerful connection.

Things have been hard. Really fucking hard. But nothing is harder than the day when the Korean intel agency notified him that you were good, that you were okay. That you were home. But they could not release any personal information. You were home…you were okay…but you still have not reached out? He’s relieved you’re well but that also comes with the disappointment that you are choosing to stay to yourself.

“Yoongi wants to work on that new song tonight, what do you say?” Namjoon stands from the bed as well and makes his way into the small kitchen for a glass of water.

“Not in the mood.” Taehyung mumbles underneath his breath.

“Listen Taehyung…” Namjoon walks back into the room, his hands crossed over his chest as he looks at Taehyung with narrowed eyes.

“If you’re serious about this, being with her, that is. Then fucking do something about it.” Namjoon continues to stare down at him while Jimin keeps cleaning.

“I don’t have her number, I can’t find her anywhere on the internet and I barely know where she lives. What the fuck can I do?” Taehyung grits out, raising his voice just the slightest as he talks.

“….There has to be something.” Jimin speaks up. “A clue.”

“A fucking clue? What are we? Fucking detectives?” Taehyung throws his hands up, frustrated.

“Jimin’s right.” Namjoon uncrosses his arms and runs a hand through his hair, “She must have mentioned something, anything. You have to think.”

“You think I have the mental capability to think right now?” Taehyung questions with a bitter chuckle. “She doesn’t do much. She never mentioned some grand event she goes to every year, she didn’t mention what school she went to, she didn’t mention what company she worked for, she didn’t fucking mention anything. She stays to herself.” Then Taehyung’s eyes go wide.

“You know I use to go to this coffee place almost every single day. I miss it. That routine. It’s called ------------…a small, family owned shop. Only one of its kind. I would read, write, journal. Just relax. Every day.” You breathe out, missing your comfort spot.

Taehyung rushes to stand from the bed, he is quick to scoop Jimin up in his arms and place a dramatic kiss to his cheek.

“Jimin you fucking genius!” Taehyung suddenly remembered the night you had a panic attack. When you calmed down enough to speak you told him all the things you missed about your real life. Including some coffee place you would frequent on the regular. But he cannot remember the name of it for the life of him.

“What? What?” Jimin starts giggling, “Why?”

“A coffee shop! She used to go to a coffee shop!” Taehyung basically yells in excitement.

“Okay, what’s it called?” Namjoon smiles and immediately Taehyung expression turns sour.

“I…I don’t remember. But it was family owned, only one of its kind.”

Namjoon can’t help the frown that decorates his face but then he tries to smile.

“Better start doing your research lover boy.”

~

“Cozy Coffee. It’s in (Your city).” Taehyung slams a sheet of paper onto the bar top in front of Namjoon. “I found it.”

“What’d you find?” Jin asks from besides him, “Wait that place y/n goes to?”

Taehyung nods his head quickly with a wide ass smile adoring his face.

“Yup.”

“Now what, kid?” Yoongi brings his beer to his lips as he takes a generous sip. “You going to call that place and ask for her?” he laughs a little.

“No.” Taehyung straightens his back as he speaks. “I’m going there.”

“You’re…” Hobi begins but stops when he sees how serious Taehyung is.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Jungkook starts shaking his head. “This girl—”

“y/n.” Taehyung snaps.

“Right…” Jungkook gulps. “y/n…she ignores you these last 6 months and you are still trying to be with her?”

All of the boys share looks with one another, frowns on everyone’s faces.

“Jungkook is right—”

“Tae told her he would do whatever it takes…he also believes in her feelings. So let’s believe in him.” Jimin cuts in, his hand going to Taehyung’s shoulder and giving him a smile.

“Jimin is right…” Namjoon breathes out, “Let’s trust in our Taehyungie.”

“But don’t forget what she did to you Taehyung.” Jungkook whispers seriously. “You weren’t okay…”

Another day passes and still, nothing from you. Taehyung brings yet another bottle of soju to his mouth as he starts downing it. He feels his world collapsing around him. He feels how everything around him is cracking and breaking apart. But the most cracked, broken thing is him. He looks at himself in the mirror and stares into his empty eyes, these same eyes that used to gaze at you. These same eyes that saw your smile, laugh, cry. These same eyes that undressed you. These same eyes that saw you coming undone over and over. These same eyes.

Taehyung chugs back his drink, his eyes never leaving his reflection as he finishes the bottle. He made a mistake tonight, a drunken mistake but a mistake nonetheless. He slept with Hana. Taehyung, the boys and Hana and her girlfriends were all at the bar tonight and he just doesn’t see her that way. Yet, he was inside her just an hour ago. He slowly closes his eyes, regret and guilt filling his entire being. What the fuck did he do?

His life is all over the place, a mess, if you will. A big, fat messy mess. He got a new apartment, leaving his parents’ house and he doesn’t think he has cleaned it even once since moving in. He drowns in alcohol, he drowns in unfinished songs, he drowns in his friends concerns and mostly? He drowns in you.

He stares at your photographs an unhealthy amount. He has cried over your photos countless times, he has touched himself to them too. Somehow that is more satisfying than the sex he just shared with Hana. The empty fuck he just gave her haunts him in this very mirror. Did he betray you? Have you also fucked someone new? Have you moved on?

Taehyung stares at himself, hating what he sees. You’re doing this to him. He went from being miserably depressed to angry. He’s beginning to blame you for everything with rage. But as much as he wants to hate you—he does want to—he just can’t. He can’t gather that type of energy in your direction. He just can’t.

Hana looks very pretty tonight…she’s been trying extra hard lately, Taehyung thinks. She is always casually got a hand on his arm, she always finds a way to be standing next to him, talking to him, leaning into him. Taehyung isn’t stupid. She wants him still. She apparently dated during the 8 months he was gone but nothing serious came from it. And now here she is, sleeping on his bed as he drinks by himself in his bathroom mirror.

So many different thoughts have gone through Taehyung’s head. Is he hard to love? That’s the main question that came out of all of this. You spent every day with him for 8 months and you weren’t even sure of your feelings. Shouldn’t a person know by then? He’s trying to be understanding…he is trying so fucking hard to understand but how can he? When he is balls deep in love with you and he doesn’t have to question it at all.

He is spiraling, he is being sucked into a darkness that he can’t crawl out of. He looks at himself in the mirror again, his eyes narrowing at his own reflection—disgusted with what he sees. He grips the empty bottle of soju as he feels his eyes wet with tears. He grips on to the bottle harder and harder, tears now leaving his big brown eyes. He growls out, groaning in frustration as he lifts the bottle up and throws it at his mirror. Glass shattering everywhere.

Startled, Hana jumps from the bed and rushes to the loud sound, finding Taehyung just standing lifeless, continuing to eye himself in the broken mirror. He likes what he sees much better. The cracked glass making for a better reflection, a more accurate representation of what he truly sees when he views himself.

“What the fuck?!” Hana yells out, rushing to Taehyungs side. “Are you okay???”

Taehyung walks closer to the mirror and lightly slides his hand down the cracked mirror, his fingers careful not to get cut.

“No.” he answers honestly and quietly. “I’m not.”

“I’m fine, Jungkook.” Taehyung assures him, “At least I will be…when I see her.”

“What if she doesn’t want to see you?” Yoongi says quietly, worried for his friend. He brings his beer to the bar top and stares at the liquid.

“I’ll get to that when I get to that.” Taehyung sighs out…”I can’t let go of this until I know for sure.”

~~~~~~

Settling into your new job has been smooth, thankfully. It’s only been a few weeks but you can say you really like it. Your boss is an older woman, your coworkers seem nice and the work isn’t too taxing. Your apartment is starting to come together as well, only a few more boxes left to unpack. On the outside things are honestly going well…your life looks normal and put together. But on the inside you continue to fall apart.

“Come on!” Ellie whines, “Just give me one little, tiny, juicy detail.”

“Ew, no!” you laugh, “I have nothing to share!”

“Oh, bullshit.” Ellie takes a drag of her cigarette, blowing the smoke the other direction.

You two are sitting on your balcony, watching the evening sun set.

“You are trying to tell me you two didn’t fuck? Not even once?” Ellie gives you a knowing smile and you can’t help but laugh.

“Okay maybe once.”

“I call bullshit again.” Ellie starts to laugh, thrusting her hips forward theatrically, “I bet you two couldn’t keep your hands off each other.”

“Something like that.” You admit shyly.

“I don’t blame you. He looks so hot.” Ellie takes another puff of her cigarette. “What was he like in bed?”

“Ugh, Ellie.” You groan, “I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Afraid of getting horny thinking about it?” She chuckles and you roll your eyes.

“Fine, I’ll tell you one thing.” You hold one finger up, giving her a look that says you are serious. Ellie giggles, nodding her head in agreement.

“He’s…big.” You basically whisper.

“He’s what?”

“Shut up, you heard me.” You laugh, “First time I saw it he wasn’t even fully hard and I was impressed.” You smirk, feeling proud of Taehyung’s gorgeous dick.

“Damn girl. Nice.” Ellie nods in approval, “Did he know how to use it?”

“Ugh….yes.” you roll your eyes back, remembering the feel of his cock. “He did. Aaaannnd he is probably using it on his new girlfriend.” You sigh, feeling your heart break piece by piece in your chest.

“What? What do you mean???” Ellie puts her cigarette out in the ash tray, “New girlfriend?”

“Yeah.” You keep it short and simple. “Anyway, I really do not want to talk about him anymore.”

“…Yeah, okay. Sorry.”

You give your sister a sad, small smile and she returns it. You feel your phone buzz in your lap and you go to pick it up, you quite literally feel all the color drain from your face. Your heart stops completely. What the actual fuck? Why is he texting you? Him of all people?

~

Finally gathering the courage to buy his plane ticket, Taehyung begins packing for his trip. He got a roundtrip flight for one week. He has one week to find you. He’s starting to get nervous, really fucking nervous. He had all this confidence to do this but honestly? Over the last 6-7 months he has become quite insecure. You left him in shambles. He grew weak without you, he grew pathetic in his eyes.

“Make sure you bring plenty of underwear.” Jimin teases, helping Taehyung pack. “You never pack enough and somehow end up going commando.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Taehyung is too nervous to even joke around, he is too nervous to even look at Jimin—his best friend—for more than a second because he is afraid he is going to see right through him.

“You’re nervous.” Jimin blurts out and Taehyung opens his mouth in shock. But should he be? Jimin is his best friend, he can read him like a book.

“Yeah…”

“I think you have every right to be.” Jimin pats him on the shoulder, “You have been through a lot…and so much is unknown.”

“Yeah….” Taehyung agrees, “I feel like I’m walking into this blind.”

“You kind of are.” Jimin admits quietly. “You kind of are.”

“Do you think…I’m making a mistake?” Taehyung sits down on his bed, messing with the blanket between his fingers.

“No.” Jimin answers honestly. “I am probably the one who has heard about y/n the most. I almost feel like I know her.” Jimin laughs, “And I think you’re right. She was scared. This company…fuck that company by the way, this company set you two up and tried to force love on you. Of course that’s going to fuck her up. Of course she is going to have her doubts…you can’t blame her Tae. Yeah, it’s fucked up she hasn’t reached out at all but dude…it’s a tricky situation.”

“I know…” Taehyung’s head falls into his hands, “Fuck…I know.”

“And…” Jimin sits down next to him, “I don’t want you to regret not looking for her, it sucks that it’s you doing everything, I can admit that. I wish she would grow some fucking balls and talk to you but looks like you got to do all the work buddy.”

“Yeah.”

~

Taehyung checks into some dingy hotel downtown in the city you live, the place is dark, gritty even. But it’s just one of the first places that was affordable that popped up when he was googling places to stay. He doesn’t totally mind, he doubts he will be spending much time in here. He receives his key from the girl at the front desk, she eyes him up and down, obviously liking what she sees.

Taehyung walks down a dark hallway to reach his room—he’s starting to feel like the main character in a horror movie. He reaches his door and unlocks it, opening it and shuffling inside with his luggage. The room smells dusty, the bed is small and the blanket thin. The room is loud with the AC unit blowing freezing air and the dark curtains don’t let in any light whatsoever.

He sets his luggage down on the carpet and sits on the bed…he takes his phone out and sends a text to his group chat that he made it alive.

Namjoon 4:02pm

Good luck man, we’re rooting for you.

Jungkook 4:02pm

Fingers crossed homie

Jin 4:03pm

Bring her back to Korea

Yoongi 4:03pm

He can’t just bring her back Jin

Hobi 4:03pm

I also vote he brings her back with him

Jimin 4:04pm

I agree, I want to meet the infamous y/n

Taehyung 4:04pm

Am I also allowed to vote that I want to bring her back with me?

Taehyung quietly laughs to himself as he clicks his phone off. He lays back on the bed and groans when he feels how hard the mattress is. But it doesn’t matter because he is here on a mission, a mission to find you and he wants to waste no time.

~

Day 1:

Taehyung wakes up early to grab a bite to eat at the diner next to the hotel, this place doesn’t even offer complimentary breakfast! The audacity. He orders pancakes but they definitely aren’t as good as yours.

Waking up and breathing the same city air you’re breathing makes Taehyung for the first time in 6 months—feel alive. Like being in the same place as you is slowly helping him regain some of his self back. He knows you are here. You live here. You walk these streets, you eat these foods, you breathe this air. The same fucking air he is breathing.

Nothing excites him and makes him more nauseas. He misses you. He wants to see you. But he is afraid at the same time. He’s so fucking terrified. How will you react? Are you okay? Do you really not love him? Have you moved on? Seeing someone new? His mind races as he cuts into these pancakes.

Taehyung pulls out his phone and checks the time…almost 7 am. He needs to hurry to the coffee place…because what if you stop by there on your way to work? Or maybe you don’t work right now and you go there just to chill? He doesn’t know but he knows he won’t miss a chance to see you.

Taehyung finishes up his plate of food and pays. He leaves the diner and starts walking towards Cozy Coffee, only a 15 minute walk. He inhales deeply, hoping to somehow get a whiff of you, he looks at all the flowers on the side of the sidewalks and thinks of you. Would you be interested in a bouquet of flowers? He recalls on your first unofficial first date he gave you a handful of flowers from the island and you liked it. Ugh, what is he thinking? All he needs to be worried about right now is fucking finding you.

Finally, Taehyung makes his way inside Cozy Coffee. It’s a pretty small place but big enough for a handful of people to be occupying the many tables. His eyes scan the area but they don’t come across you. He sighs and heads towards the counter to order a tea and take a seat at a table in the back near the restrooms.

He spends hours here in this spot. The entire day actually. No sign of you. And the owner has to literally escort him out when it is closing time. He walks back to the hotel with his head hanging low, he guesses today wasn’t a day for reading or writing.

Day 2:

These pancakes aren’t bad actually, not the second time around. Yours are still better, of course but he’s getting use to them. Maybe tomorrow he should try something different.

Taehyung walks leisurely towards the coffee shop, he somehow has this idea he might run into you on the street or something. But he doesn’t.

The coffee shop is a little less busy today, Taehyung goes inside, orders his tea and occupies the same table as yesterday. He pulls his backpack to his lap and brings out a notebook and pen, he decides he will work on song lyrics today.

Hours and hours pass, tea after tea is drank and still, no sign of you. Closing time approaches and he is once again, asked to leave. Taehyung nods in understanding, gathers his belongings and walks back to the hotel. Slowly of course, because deep down he thinks he just might run into you.

Day 3:

French toast today…not as good as the pancakes but still, pretty good. He wonders if you can make French toast? You never mentioned it. Taehyung realizes there is still so much he does not know about you. The thought kind of drives him crazy. He wants to know you. Know all of you. Know you better than anyone else.

The walk to the coffee shop is slow and enjoyable. The scenery is pretty as he strolls on the sidewalk, the flowers poking through the cement bring him a small level of joy for the day. Once he enters the shop, the owner gives him a smile. He orders his tea and makes his way to the back table, pulls out his notebook and starts writing his song lyrics.

On my pillow. Can’t get me tired. Sharing my fragile truth. That I hope the door is still open. Cause the window. Opened one time with you and me. Now my forever is falling down. Wondering if you’d want me now.

Taehyung sets his pen down taking a break from writing, he reaches for his tea and takes a few sips. The liquid has gone cold. He sighs out and lets the hours pass him by. Closing time approaches like it does every night and he is asked to leave.

Day 4:

He’s back to getting pancakes. He likes to pretend they are yours, that you made them for him. He likes to imagine a life where you make breakfast for him again. He likes to imagine a life where you’re just here again. It’s almost 7 am, he needs to head to the coffee shop. He strolls casually, wondering what you are up to on this Thursday morning. Are you finally going to make an appearance at Cozy Coffee? Are you running late for work? Are you in early today?

Taehyung enters the shop and the owner gives him a sweet smile and begins working on his tea. Taehyung feels grateful that it’s being made without him even ordering it yet, a smile adorning his face. He pays for the tea and makes his way to the his table, pulls out his notebook and continues working on his song.

I’m wondering are you my best friend? Feels like a river’s rushing through my mind. I wanna ask you if this is all just in my head. My heart is pounding tonight, I wonder if you are too good to be true. And would it be alright if I pulled you closer.

Taehyung lets hours and hours pass, his pen busy on his notebook paper. The lyrics coming to him so easily for the first time in months. He can’t help the sad smile that grows on his face as he reads and rereads his song lyrics.

Just like every day when the bell of the front door jingles his head shoots up to see who it is. Now is no different. A woman comes in and his heart almost stops because she looks like you at first glance. Taehyung groans at the disappointment. Because it’s not you.

Day 5:

Okay, he is back to French toast. It’s starting to grow on him, he definitely wants to ask you to make this for him. His imagination begins to run wild with dreams of making food with you again, kissing the side of your neck as he wraps his arms around your waist from behind you. Like the many times he has done it.

“Taehyung…” you whine as he nips your neck with his teeth. “I’m trying to concentrate on this recipe.”

“I’m trying to concentrate too.” Taehyung smirks against your soft skin, “On you.”

You can’t help the blush that begins spreading across your cheeks, his fingers dig into your hips and you moan out.

“Taehyung…”

“What is it baby?” he starts kissing your neck. “Want me to fuck you? Right here?” he digs his fingers deeper into your hips and you start grinding against him.

“Couch.” You breathe out. “I want to ride you.”

“Oh? You want to be in control? Maybe I will allow it this once.” He teases, his tongue licking a strip up to your ear, then he nibbles on the lobe.

Taehyung finds his pants getting tight as he recalls his memories with you. He misses kissing you, he misses touching you, he misses your scent, he misses your skin, your eyes, your lips.

Shit, it’s past 7. He needs to hurry to Cozy’s.

He’s seated in his spot with his tea and notebook out, he swears he is almost finished with this song…the chorus needs some work but he thinks he’s got it. Something about being ships in the night, but somehow he doesn’t have the courage to finish he song, he doesn’t want that to be his relationship with you.

Night time comes and still no sign of you. Tomorrow is his last day and he is starting to freak out. Where are you? He thought you came here all the time? Why aren’t you coming? Are you okay? He is asked to leave once again and he does.

Day 6:

Back to pancakes. Back to strolling on the side walk. Back to Cozy’s. Back to his tea. Back to his spot.

Taehyung feels the nerves in his body multiplying with every shaky breath he takes. Today is the last night, his flight is in the morning and he has made no progress on finding you. This place being his only hint.

“Excuse me…” Taehyung walks up to the counter and greets the owner.

“What can I do for you young man? Another tea?” he softly smiles at Taehyung but Taehyung shakes his head.

“I have a question…” he begins. “Do you know y/n y/l/n?”

“y/n???” the old man begins to smile after expressing his confusion, “Of course I do, that girl has been coming here for years.” He starts wiping down the counter with a rag. “Why? You looking for her? You aren’t some creepy ex-boyfriend are you?”

“No, no.” Taehyung laughs. “But I am looking for her…she usually comes here right?” he nervously chuckles.

“Usually. But she started a new job recently that has kept her a little busy…” the old man continues to wipe down the counter. “But she was in just last week! And It’s Saturday!” he cheers, “She always comes to write on weekends.”

Taehyung lights up at that. “Really??” he shows the old man a wide, boxy grin. He feels like he hasn’t smiled like that in what seems like forever. All because there is finally a chance he might see you.

“Oh…” The old man stops wiping to get a good look at Taehyung. “You look like a man in love.”

Taehyung’s eyes widen just a bit before he smiles, “Do I?”

The shop is busy today. Taehyung sits in his usual spot, writing and doodling in his notebook, his head lifting up quickly every time the door jingles. It’s never you though. It is already 6pm and there is still no sign on you and Taehyung hates that he is starting to lose hope. Are you not coming? He doesn’t have much time left.

Taehyung sits here, his pen between his lips as he thinks about you. He thinks about the first time he saw you…he really thought you were some girl he might have drunkenly hooked up with…he remembers your expression, how shocked, how scared, how overwhelmed you were. He wishes now he could go back in time and hug you. Tell you he’s with you, together. That you aren’t alone. Taehyung wishes he could kiss your temple, bring you in close and make you feel okay. He recalls the first time you two really interacted.

“We need to find out what’s going on.” Taehyung takes a deep breath, lifting his head up. He locks his eyes with yours again but you break contact to look at your feet.

“We don’t know anything…would if it’s not safe?” you quietly try to reason.

“Exactly, we don’t know anything and that’s a problem. You don’t expect us to stay in this room forever, do you?”

He has a point and you know it. You want to follow him out of this room but your feet seem to be glued to the floor.

“Well, no. But—”

“Didn’t think so.” He turns away from you, his body shuffling towards the bedrooms door but before he can become out of reach your hand flies to his shirt sleeve, tugging it softly.

“Wait! Just hold on—” Your voice wavers and Taehyung rolls his eyes. Rolls his fucking eyes at you!

“Listen, come. Or don’t. I don’t really care.” Taehyung releases your hold on his shirt, unsticking your fingers and throwing your hand towards your body. “Decide.” He states before swiftly turning around to head towards the door.

Oh. So this guy is a fucking asshole. Noted.

You end up following him because although he was rude about it, feeling someone’s touch when you feel so scared was slightly comforting and yes, you are aware of how fucking pathetic that is.

Taehyung stands in front of the door, his hand reaching for the knob when he turns his head to say, “Just trust me.”

And now you are the one rolling your eyes. Trust him? You just met the dude! 10 minutes ago his name was Future Murderer. How could you possibly trust this asshole?

“How can I trust you? I literally just met you.” The scowl on your face deepens when he smirks.

“Are you always such a fucking baby?”

“Are you always such a fucking baby?” you mock, eyes rolling so far into the back of your head.

Taehyung can’t help but chuckle. God, you were such a brat. It’s almost 7 now…still no sign of you.

“Maybe if you weren’t always following me, they would have sent us home by now.” Taehyung states bitterly as he puts his slice of bread on top of his now made sandwich.

“I’m not following you.” You roll your eyes, “I have to eat too.”

“You can’t wait until I’m done?”

“You look pretty done to me…” You point at his sandwich and he scoffs.

“I still have to eat it.”

“Eat in your room for all I care.”

You and Taehyung are getting along just fine…maybe not swimmingly but like, fine. It’s been a couple weeks and you have mostly stayed out of one another’s way but it’s moments like this that you end up interacting.

“I think I’ll eat at the table, thanks.” He grabs his sandwich and makes his way to the dining room table, sitting down with a thump. He aggressively picks up his sandwich and takes a bite while showing you a smart ass smile.

“Fantastic,” you state, “Me too.” You finish pouring milk into your cereal bowl and set it back inside the fridge. You dramatically make your way over to the table as well, giving him a wide grin as you sit down in front of him. You slightly slam your bowl down on the table, some milk dribbling over the edge of the bowl and Taehyung snarls.

“Great, you’re making a fucking mess.”

“If you went up and ate in you room you would have no idea about this mess.”

“But you still would have made this mess?”

“Ignorance is bliss, Taehyung.”

“You’re such a…” he stops, setting his lips into a firm line and you lean your head forward, clearly curious about what you are.

“Such a…?” you blink at him repeatedly and his lips curve upward into a charming smile.

“A fucking brat.” Taehyung grabs his sandwich again and takes an obnoxious bite while grinning and you give him your best annoyed eye roll.

Taehyung continues to chuckles as he goes down memory lane…he does regret being mean to you at first but god, you truly were a fucking brat. But he laughs about it now, loving every single memory he shares with you.

The door jingles and he shoots his head up, hoping it is you. But still, just like every other fucking time—it’s not.

Taehyung groans into his notebook, feeling lost and frustrated. What’s he going to do if you don’t show? He’s trying here. Is the universe really that cruel? And suddenly the door jingles again, but he doesn’t look up, he knows it isn’t you.

“Hi Mister Jones!”

Oh. Oh. That voice. That voice belongs to you. Taehyung whips his head up and there you are. You are standing at the doors entrance with a nervous smile on your face, why are you nervous? You are wearing jeans and a oversized t shirt, a casual but cute look. And Taehyung is falling in love with you. Seeing you in the real world for the first time has him frozen in place.

“The usual?”

“Yeah.” You reply calmly, glancing at the empty table at the front of the shop. You pull a chair out and take a seat, your back to Taehyung. He is still frozen. He all of the sudden feels unprepared for this. He all of the sudden feels sick. He clenches his jaw as he watches your back. You are here, living your life without even think of him aren’t you? Taehyung swallows down his anger now. He has to. Anger won’t do him any good.

He takes long breath after long breath trying to compose himself and find his confidence to go up to you and confront you. He blinks back his growing tears of frustration and stands from his table, the chair screeching against the wooden floors.

He stands here, frozen again. What if you really do not want to see him? That this was all intentional? He starts to feel sick again. He squeezes his eyes shut as he tries to get rid of the feeling of nausea.

“Taehyung…” you whisper his name, “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You think having feelings for me means that’s it? That it’s the end? Baby, it would only be the beginning.” Taehyung leans down again as he caresses your face. “I know you’re scared. I know you have trauma that you’re still getting through. I know your ex fucked you up. But I’m not him. I’m Taehyung. I’m…fuck, I don’t know. y/n, please just open your heart to me.” Taehyung looks at you with so much compassion that it physically hurts.

“I know,” your voice shakes, “I know you aren’t him, Tae.” You take his hand in yours, “I do like you.” You finally admit, shutting your eyes.

“Look at me.” Taehyung commands, “Look at me babe.”

You slowly open your eyes again, gazing into his dark ones and you feel yourself grow warmer and warmer.

“I’m only looking at you.”

Taehyung quickly opens his eyes as he finds his resolve. You love him. He knows it. He feels it. You wanted him, just like how he wanted you—wants you.

He nods his head, trying to pump himself up, about to gain the courage to walk to you when the door jingles again and a man walks in. A man that immediately looks at you and smiles.

This man takes a seat across from you at the small table and Taehyung feels his heart halting in his chest. He feels himself grow warm, he feels himself grow the company of something evil, something green. He feels himself grow incredibly fucking jealous. So you do have someone. You moved on. You have someone, someone that is not him. Taehyung slowly plops back down in his chair, his mouth slightly open as he watches this man talk and smile at you.

But suddenly, Taehyung notices how tense you become. How you grip on to your purse harder and harder with every word this man speaks. He can sense you from here…something is wrong. Who is this man? Why is he making you so uncomfortable? Is this not a date? Taehyung isn’t sure what to do. He could be reading this all wrong, he could be imagining this for his own sake. He could be creating this world where you don’t love anyone but him.

But then you stand from your chair abruptly and storm out of the shop, this man desperately tries to grab for you and quickly follows after you. Taehyung stands from his chair as well, already racing towards the shops door, in search of you. He didn’t even think about it, he just acted on instinct.

“y/n!” the man calls out after you but you continue to speed walk away until you feel a hand grab at your arm. You are quick to turn around, ready to give him an earful when your face goes completely pale.

“T-Taehyung…?” you stutter out, the shock riding in waves throughout your entire body.

“I said wait baby!” The man jogs up to you and Taehyung, Taehyung releases his hold on your arm and looks between you and this man.

“Baby?” Taehyung whispers out, already feeling his heart crack inside his chest. Maybe this is just a lovers quarrel. He continues looking between you and this man and you can see the hurt plastered all over Taehyung’s face.

“No—”

“Who is this?” The man stands between you and Taehyung. “Who are you?”

“Ben, you can leave. I think I have heard enough.” You spit out and Taehyung’s eyes widen before they are narrowing at you.

“Ben…?” he asks, not even sparing Ben a glance, only focusing on you. “Why are you with him y/n?” Taehyung’s voice goes dangerously low. “I asked, why are you with him?”

“He was just—”

“I was just talking with my girl. Is that a problem?”

“Your girl?” You and Taehyung ask in unison.

“You’re fucking kidding, right y/n?” Taehyung’s face is taken over with a scowl. “There���s no fucking way you are seeing this asshole again.”

“It’s not—”

“Asshole?” Ben scoffs, “Who the fuck are you?”

Taehyung doesn’t even look Bens way as he eyes you, he stuffs his hands into his front pockets and stares at you with his hard expression.

“Answer me.” He commands. “Now.”

“Listen buddy—” Ben begins but Taehyung just a holds a hand up in front of Bens face and tilts his head at you.

“I said, now.” Taehyung finally lowers his hand, then he is feeling his body being shove backward.

“I said who the fuck are you?” Ben pushes Taehyung, his hands still on his chest at the collar of his shirt. “How do you know my girl? y/n…you been fucking other men?”

“I’m not your fucking girl Ben.” You finally snap out of your daze, “I said leave.”

Ben lets go of Taehyung shirt to face you, he walks closer and closer until his feet are practically touching your own.

“Sweetheart I said I was sorry…” Ben tries to caress your face but you smack his hand away.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” You spit out, “Ever.”

Taehyung eyes the both of you with curiosity. What’s going on here? Are you with him or aren’t you? You notice Taehyung’s confused expression and move towards him to begin explaining.

“Ben is just here to explain why he did what he did…I don’t know why I agreed…but—”

“I’ve heard enough.” Taehyung stops you, he walks closer to you. “He’s bothering you?”

“I ain’t bothering anyone you fucking dick. And you never answered my question—who the fuck are—”

Your eyes are as wide as saucers and you watch the collision of Taehyung’s fist to Ben’s face. You swear you are witnessing it in slow motion, the way his fist crashes into the side of Bens jaw. The way Ben stumbles back and falls to the pavement. The way Taehyung grits his teeth as he brings his fist back to his own body. Did Taehyung just fucking punch your ex-boyfriend in the fucking face?

“She said to fucking leave.” Taehyung growls, “Now.”

“Taehyung!” you rush to his side, immediately reaching for his fist and inspecting it for any damage. You are hit with something massive…like the grandest bolt of electricity the moment your hand touches his. You try your hardest to ignore it, to ignore the fire that caught light, the raging fire that burns so wildly in your chest.

“Come. Come with me.” You say in panic, ignoring the fact that Ben lays on the concrete, probably knocked the fuck out. You hold on to Taehyung’s hand tightly as you lead him to the parking lot until you’re at your car. You hurry to let go of his hand, feeling so fucking nervous. What the hell is happening? Everything with Ben happened so fast that you haven’t even processed the fact that Taehyung is here. Here with you. In your city. In this parking lot. At your car.

“Tae—”

You stop before you can even finish his name. He looks at you with something you have never seen before. He goes to open his mouth but he stops himself, not knowing what the right thing to say is.

“I don’t know what to say anymore now that I am with you.” Taehyung finally says after a long while, his eyes are wet and his expression is troubled.

“I thought I would get here and I would tell you I am ready to make this work, that I missed you, that I love you. But now…seeing you. Really seeing you, I don’t know anymore.” He admits. “I think I am angry with you.” He says softly. “Really fucking angry.”

“Tae—”

“No.” he moves his head to the side, his eyes down at his shoes. “Let me speak. I have prepared a whole speech for you…but now, I don’t think I would mean any of the words.” He shuts his eyes, a tear escaping. “Did you go too far? Too far in hurting me?” he whispers. “Did you ruin me?”

You start breathing heavily, not knowing how to take his words. Why is he here?

“I had to fucking search for you. But did you even want to be found?” he questions you softly.

“Taehyung.” You say firmly. “I—”

“Am I a fool?” He chokes out, “A fool for doing this? Coming all the way here…sitting at this coffee place every single day waiting for you like the pathetic man that I am.” Another tear slips.

“Can I talk now?” you whisper. “Please?”

Taehyung gulps down his spit, anticipating what you might say. He gestures for you to speak and you take a deep breath.

“I’m sorry I didn’t reach out…” you begin, your chest getting tighter and tighter. “Every day that passed it got harder and harder to do it. If I’m being honest I stalked your account…” you admit with a bitter laugh, “You seemed happy. I wasn’t even sure you wanted me to reach out. Then Hana…”

“Hana?” Taehyung scrunches his brows together, “What’s Hana got to do with this?”

“You two are together aren’t you? I know, Taehyung.” You swallow hard.

Taehyung shakes his head in confusion, how do you know about Hana? You know he slept with her or?

“It was only one time.” Taehyung admits quietly…”but how do you know about that?”

“She posted you on her Instagram. I just assumed.” You say dryly, feeling a pang in your chest as you look at him. So he did get with her. You fucking knew it.

“Why are you here Taehyung?”

“I was here to tell you I love you. I want to make this work.” He says bluntly.

“Was?” you whisper and he nods.

“Now that I am here and I see you, I know I fucking love you still. But I think I’m lost and confused right now.” He admits between bated breaths. “I was so nervous to see you and to be honest looking at you now…I still feel nervous. Like, I could throw up.”

“I feel that way too.” You admit.

“You hurt me, y/n.” he steps closer to you, his gaze is dark and unwavering. “Can I forgive you?” he whispers and you choke back a sob. “Do you even love me back?...That’s also a main problem here.”

“I don’t know what to say.” You breathe out roughly, “I’m sorry for our last conversation on the island.”

“Are you?” he takes another step. “Are you really?”

“Yes, Tae…I …I…”

“You? You?” Another step.

“I was so scared, I was so confused.” You take a step back, but he continues walking towards you. “ But I was wrong.”

“Wrong about what?” he steps closer. “About that ‘maybe’ hmm?” he steps even closer until he is breathing the same zone of air as you. He reaches for your jaw with his hand and tilts your head up towards him. “I could have fucking told you that.”

“Taehyung…” you don’t mean to whimper, but you do. You fucking do. “I’m sorry. It just got so hard to talk to you but I have thought about you every second of every day.”

“Every second?” he scoffs, “Even as you were having coffee with fucking Ben?”

“It seriously isn’t what it looks like…” you rush to say, “He wouldn’t stop pestering me.”

“Tell me how you feel y/n. Right fucking now.” He roughly commands, his fingers still on your jaw.

“I—”

“I want everything, every detail. I want to know exactly what’s going on in this brain of yours.” Taehyung looks at you with hard eyes. “I want the truth.”

You scrunch your face up as you try not to cry, you feel so many overwhelming feelings all at once. You don’t know what to say. You love him. But is it that simple? “I…” You gulp.

“You?” his eyes soften just the slightest, “Just talk to me babe.” His voice loses all its edge as you begin to silently cry. His thumb wipes away your falling tears. “Just talk to me.”

“I miss you so fucking much.” Is the first thing that slips out of your mouth, “You have no idea…” you sob.

“If anyone has an idea, it’s me.” He chuckles bitterly.

“I let time pass me by Tae, I regret it so much. But as the seconds ticked by I knew I was losing my window of opportunity. And before I knew it 6 months had passed.” You choke, “I am so, so sorry.” You stare into his dark eyes. “The company did me a favor.” You laugh, “They gave me you. I fell in love with you, Taehyung. I just…I’m so sorry I doubted myself, doubted you.”

Taehyung’s features soften as he listens to you, he feels himself grow weak. Especially with his fingers touching your skin. He pulls back from you and leans against your car.

“Are you still in love with me?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes.” You sniffle, wiping your face of your tears. “I think I always will be, even if you decide you hate me.”

“I wish I could hate you.” Taehyung throws his head back, “It would make this easier, I wouldn’t even be here.”

“Make what easier?”

“Leaving you behind.” He says quietly, “Leaving us behind.”

Your body begins to shake as more tears escape you, you feel the heavy weight of his words fucking crush you. He wants nothing to do with you. He doesn’t want you anymore. You fucked up too badly. Taehyung watches as you sob for several minutes, his eyes never leaving your flushed face. He clicks his tongue and puts a hand on your shoulder and rubs it.

“That’s what I think I should do.” He says, “But I can’t.”

Wait, what?

“You c-can’t?”

“I love you too much. And I all my friends voted I bring you back to Korea.” He says with a small smirk.

“But you?” you cry, “You said you are leaving me?”

“I was thinking aloud. And to be honest I wanted you to suffer a bit.” He says with his dark gaze. “I wanted to punish you just a little.”

Your wide eyes narrow at him and you can’t help but cry harder. “You fucking sadist.”

“Maybe a little.” He admits with a growing sly smile. “We have a lot to talk about.” He says after a moment. “Do you want to make this work with me or not?”

“Are you serious? Even after all of this you still want to be with me?”

“We’re soulmates, baby. Or did you forget?”

“You fucking smartass.” You wipe at your face, wiping your snots on the collar of your t shirt. “But yes…I want to make this work.”

“Spend a couple weeks with me in Korea. I want to start over with you. Take things slow. I am still angry. But I fucking love you.”

“A couple weeks in Korea?” you shake your head, “I can’t take off work that long.”

“I am not going to beg you.” Taehyung warns, “But please.”

A couple weeks in Korea? With Taehyung? Meeting his family? His friends? Starting over? Going slow? Can you two really do this?

[triptuckers]

Two Homes (part 1/7) - Nikolai Lantsov

Request: nope! Pairing:  Nikolai Lantsov x reader  Summary:  you live in Ketterdam, and your life is alright. things get excited however, when you receive royal mail Warnings: none Word count:  2K A/N: first time doing a (mini) series and I am ✨ nervous ✨ but this idea has been sitting in my drafts for too long and I can’t stop thinking about it. I’m planning on writing seven parts :) enjoy reading!  PREVIOUS PART | NEXT PART TAG LIST: @godsofwriting @im-constantly-fangirling add yourself to my tag lists here 

You would always be torn between leaving Ketterdam, and staying in the city. You have a good life, it’s comfortable. Given that your father is one of the wealthiest merchants of the city, you could basically get anything you wanted. You had more money than you could possibly spend in one lifetime.

But still, you weren’t happy. Your father may have a lot of kruge, he certainly didn’t have a heart of gold. All your life you’ve known him as a greedy, rude and unfair man. You’d give up all of your kruge in a blink of an eye if you could trade it for a different life. 

Your friends didn’t understand. They told you to be grateful. That many would kill to live in a mansion like you do, and to have the amounts of money your family has. But you had learned wealth doesn’t always mean happiness.

For years, you watched as your father treated people like garbage, simply because they didn’t have enough money in his eyes. He’d blackmail people, or worse. You couldn’t stand it.

Which is why you decided to join the Dregs a couple of years ago. In secret, of course. Your father doesn’t know. You took every precaution necessary to prevent him from finding out. You’d rather not find out all the things he’d be capable of. 

With the help of the Crows, you’d been stealing small bits of your father’s fortune. You either give it to the Dregs or transfer it to your own personal bank account, one your father didn’t have access to. 

To keep your identity a secret, only a few Dregs know your true identity. You use a fake name and whenever you’re at the Crow Club or the Slat, you wear your hood pulled down as low as possible, hiding your face from curious eyes. All precautions because you know all too well what gang members would do with a rich merchant’s daughter. 

You like hanging out at the Crow Club. Mostly because the Crows don’t treat you like a merchant’s daughter. They treat you like, well, Y/N. To them, you’re one of their own. And you’re glad they’re your friends. 

The Crow Club is also a place where you can relax. At home, you’re always on your toes, keeping a close eye on your father. He had the annoying habit of marching into your room unannounced. When you told him you wanted a lock on your door, he merely laughed it away. 

So, yes, you’d prefer the Crow Club full of thieves, gamblers and other criminals to the mansion you live in.

Of course, your father doesn’t know you spend most of your time at the Club. You take longer walks, you make sure you’re not followed, and conceal your face whenever you make your way to the Barrel. 

Once inside the Club, you walk to your usual table, and there’d always be someone around to join you.

Right now, you’re sitting at the table with Nina and Jesper. Enjoying a drink and a game of cards. You’re happy to be amongst your friends, laughing at their jokes and beating them at cards.

You look up when you see a familiar redhead approach your table.

‘Hi Wylan!’ you say as you enthusiastically wave at him. Wylan smiles at you as he sits down next to Jesper. Jesper raises his hand at the bartender to order another round of drinks as Wylan shrugs off his coat.

‘I’ve got something for you.’ says Wylan, while looking at you.

You raise your eyebrows in question as you finish your drink. ‘Watch out, Jesper, I might steal your boyfriend.’ you chuckle.

‘Oh, no, you won’t.’ says Jesper, reaching out and pulling Wylan's chair closer to his own, making Wylan blush.

‘He’s going to ask me out on a date, I can see it on his face.’ you say, failing to keep a straight face. 

‘What? No!’ says Wylan, looking from you to Jesper. ‘No, I’m not asking you out on a date, I’ve got a letter for you.’ 

You frown. ‘You’ve got a letter for me?’ you say. ‘Why wasn’t it just delivered to my house?’

‘I don’t know.’ says Wylan. ‘Someone stopped me in the street and told met to give it to you. They said it was urgent.’

‘How did they know you knew where to find me?’ you ask him as you take your new drink the bartender passes you.

Wylan shrugs. ‘I don’t know. She had a pretty heavy Ravkan accent, though. I tried to read the address to confirm it was yours, but I couldn't.’ he says. You notice a slight blush on his cheeks, but ignore it.

‘Is the letter from Ravka as well?’ you say.

‘I think so.’ says Wylan, finally pulling the letter out of his coat pocket. ‘I mean, it’s got a pretty distinctive seal on the back of it.’ 

Before you can ask him anything else, Jesper snatches the letter out of Wylan’s hand, looking at it. 

‘Why would a Ravkan send you a letter?’ he chuckles, flipping the envelope around in his hands. When his eyes fall on the seal, they widen. ‘Correction.’ says Jesper, while looking at you. ‘Why would a Lantsov send you a letter?’

Now your eyes widen as well. ‘What?’ you say. ‘That has to be some kind of joke.’

You lean over the table and take the envelope out of Jesper’s hands. You take another sip of your drink as you look at the seal on the back of it. Indeed, the Lantsov double eagle is on it. 

‘Nina.’ you say, turning to her next to you and handing her the envelope so she can look at it as well. ‘Do you have any idea as to why your king would send me a letter?’ 

Nina looks at the seal as well, running a finger over it. ‘I don’t know.’ she says. ‘But this looks like a legitimate seal, though. It’s on the ones I get as well. I don’t get a lot of them, but I do recognise that seal. This isn’t a fake.’

She hands it back to you and your flip it over in your hand. When you look up, you see all three of your friends looking at you. 

‘Why would he send me a letter, though?’ you wonder out loud. ‘And how does he even know I exist? Or where to find me?’

‘Well, after all, you are a merchant’s daughter.’ says Jesper.

‘Shh!’ you quickly say. ‘We’re still in the Crow Club, Jes!’

Jesper quickly apologises, looking around to see if anyone heard him. But the people around you are too caught up in their own drinks and games to have heard anything you were saying. 

‘But why would the king of Ravka keep track of Kerch merchants? He only approaches the merchant council for loans. And if he needs to contact them, he sends letters directly to the members of the council.’ you say. 

‘Well, you won’t know until you open it.’ says Nina. ‘Besides, what’s the worst that could happen? He doesn’t even know you.’

‘You’ve got a point.’ you say. ‘And I can’t deny I'm curious.’

Slowly, you open the envelope, pulling out a short letter. You’re well aware of all of their eyes on you as you read the message.

“Dear miss Y/F/N Y/L/N,

My name is Nikolai Lantsov (as you probably would have guessed upon seeing the wax seal on the envelope), I’ll spare the ink and not name all of my titles. Though my triumvirate would like me to. 

I am writing you to tell you I am hosting a ball, one week from now, at the Grand Palace in Os Alta, Ravka. You are hereby invited to attend said ball, at the end of which I will choose a bride.

I await your response, and I promise there will be good wine.

Yours sincerely,

King Nikolai Lantsov, of Ravka”

You read the letter over and over again, trying to get the words to sink in. Nikolai Lantsov himself wrote you an invitation. To a ball at the Grand Palace. And he’d choose a bride. Someone to be his queen.

You snort and throw the letter on the table.

‘Well, that was interesting to read.’ you say.

Jesper moves to pick up the letter, but Nina is faster. Wylan and Jesper lean in closer, and she softly reads the letter out loud. You see looks of surprise and confusion on their faces as Nina reads the letter.

When she’s done, they all look at you in confusion. You chuckle and take the letter from Nina’s hands, folding it and tucking it in your pocket. 

‘Do you think I could sell this to the highest bidder?’ you say. ‘It’s got an authentic Lantsov signature on it.’

‘Why on earth would you do that?’ says Jesper.

You look at him. ‘You don’t seriously think I’ll go?’ you say.

‘Duh!’ says Jesper. ‘Why not? Y/N, this is a king. And he’s inviting you to a ball. You could become queen!’

‘I have no intention of becoming queen.’ you say, finishing your drink. ‘Besides, I don’t want to leave Ketterdam.’

‘I bet Os Alta is a whole lot nicer than Ketterdam, though.’ says Wylan.

‘And have a servant do every little thing for me? Eat the finest food all day every month? Go to balls and war meetings? No thank you.’ you say.

‘Why do you talk about it as if it’s a bad thing?’ says Wylan.

‘Because I told you, I have no intention of going to a ball and becoming queen. If you’re asking me, I think writing that letter was a waste of ink and paper.’ you tell them. ‘Besides, if he’s smart, he’s going to marry a Fjerdan or Shu princess to establish an alliance. Even if I wanted to go, there’s no way he’d pick an ordinary Kerch merchant’s daughter to be his queen.’

‘A word of advice?’ says Nina. 

You look at her and motion for her to keep on talking. 

‘I’ve met Nikolai several times. He’s a good man. Would it really be that bad to even attend? You’re not agreeing to marrying him, you’re just going to a ball. Why not give him a chance?’ she says.

‘Because I think balls are a waste of time. And money. And simply because I don’t want to play dress up and act like a perfect daughter.’ you say, getting up and putting on your coat.

‘At least think about it?’ says Nina.

‘For your sake, I will.’ you say. ‘I’ll even pretend like I haven’t made my decision yet.’

‘It’ll be great for your reputation!’ says Jesper as you move through the crowd toward the door.

‘I’m not going to Os Alta!’ you yell at him over your shoulder. When you’re at the door, you wave goodbye at them and head outside. It’s a particular cold night, and you wrap your coat tighter around you and pull your hood further down.

Somehow the invitation feels like lead as it sits in your pocket. So Nikolai Lantsov himself invited you to the Grand Palace. Though you’re flattered, you’ve already made up your mind. 

You’re not going to Os Alta. After all, what could be waiting for you there that you couldn’t find in Ketterdam? You’ve got very good friends here, plenty of kruge, and you live in a mansion. 

Surely Os Alta couldn’t offer you more than that?

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rules Here’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

By Your Doorstep (Part 2)

Summary: Dean lets Sam in on a secret of his as to why he’s previously sworn off all dating before he and the reader go on their first one together. But it’s not just a simple first date when they realize they have more in common than they originally thought...

Pairing: Doctor/Neighbor!Dean x reader

Masterlist

Word Count: 4,200ish

Warnings: language, mentioned past sexual assault (not graphic)/child abuse, talk about sex toys, self-worth issues

A/N: Enjoy!

_________

Dean’s POV

“Hey,” said Sam a little over an hour later as he walked in the front door. Dean nodded and put the pie he’d brought into the fridge, walking back over to take a seat on the other side of the wrap around couch. “Your eyes are red.”

“That’s what happens when you cry, genius,” said Dean. He sighed and pulled his blanket over himself, rolling his eyes when Sam got up and sat closer. “It’s embarrassing.”

“Embarrassing was me being really sick when I was sixteen and shitting my pants and you didn’t say a damn thing about it other than you got me cleaned up. Dean nothing you can say will make me laugh. Fuck, I’m scared somebody…” said Sam.

“You’re gonna find out stuff about my sex life,” he said.

“You taught me about sex. Dean, I’m not gonna judge you.”

“I hooked up with a chick after work once. I had some meetings so I wore a dress shirt and tie that day. We got a room, it got heated, and my first mistake was letting her tie my hands to the headboard with that stupid tie. I shouldn’t have asked but I did. I must have been in a mood cause...I asked her to stick a finger up there cause it feels good with a blowjob. I told her the tip of a finger and she didn’t really seem to care when I told her to stop pushing inside with a dry fucking finger. She didn’t care when she shoved practically her whole hand up there no matter how much I told her to stop. Eventually once she realized my boner wasn’t coming back she washed up, untied me and left. I’ve always been leery of relationships but after that I said fuck no. Until I met this girl today. She seems sweet.”

Sam didn’t move and Dean threw his head back. 

“Say something.” 

“I’m so sorry that happened to you,” said Sam quietly. Dean risked a glance over at him and was surprised to see Sam’s scrunched up face. “Did you ever say anything?”

“No and I don’t want to. It was over two years ago. I honestly forgot about it until today and I met that girl,” said Dean.

“I hope she’s a good fit,” said Sam.

“Me too.”

“Just um, for the record, doing that stuff isn’t weird. I’ve had my share of experiences,” said Sam. 

“Thanks,” said Dean. “Don’t go on treating me any kind of way or anything, got it? This was a one time thing.”

“That’s what you said the last time,” said Sam before he gave Dean a hug. 

“Loser,” said Dean as he returned it. “You staying the night? It’s pretty late.”

“Yeah if you don’t mind,” said Sam as he sat back. He stretched and Dean looked him over. “What?”

“You were at the office, weren’t you.”

“So,” he said with a shrug. 

“Sammy you’re twenty seven. Friday nights are for fun or hanging out at home, not work. I told you I didn’t like that firm you work for.”

“It’s not a very kind place to work,” said Sam. “I’ve been thinking of leaving honestly, coming closer to home again.”

“Really?”

“I miss my friends, our friends. You’re alright too,” he said, Dean resisting the urge to tease him for it.

“Move in here. If you want your own place, you can find one with no rush. I wouldn’t mind company,” said Dean. “There’s plenty of law firms downtown. You’d have no problem getting a job.”

“I gotta stay another two months for them to finish paying off my loan,” said Sam. “But after that, yeah I think I’ll come back home. I just had to go out on my own without you watching my back, you know?”

“Yeah. I was still always watching your back though,” said Dean. “Don’t be trying to get me to eat all that healthy crap or I’ll kick your ass to the curb.”

“You are literally a doctor.”

“And doctors are literally the worst patients. Trust me,” said Dean with a smirk. “What kinda pie you bring me?”

“Blueberry,” said Sam.

“I gonna ruin whatever cleanse you’re on if you have a slice?” 

“You got ice cream?”

“Always were a sucker for ice cream,” said Dean. He hopped up from the couch and hummed as he went over to the kitchen, Sam watching and following after a moment. Sam took a seat at the counter while Dean put a plate in front of him, putting the ice cream on top of the pie how he liked it. “There you go.”

“Thanks,” he said before he dug in. Dean took his time with his own piece, leaning back against the counter. 

“Thanks for coming over tonight. Never told anyone before.”

“I’ll never say a word,” said Sam.

“I know you won’t, Sammy,” said Dean. He got out a pair of beers from the fridge and handed one to Sam with a smile. “You doing okay? Been awhile since we talked.”

“Mhm,” said Sam quickly.

“Want to tell me what it is? Whatever you’re not telling me? I think we established that-”

“Mom contacted me this week. At work. My number and picture was on the company website so she called there,” said Sam.

“What exactly did Mary have to say?” said Dean, setting down his plate and nursing his beer instead.

“She said she and dad have been together again for a few years. They went to couples counseling and dad stopped drinking and a whole bunch of other bullshit.”

“Wouldn’t happen to be the fact I’m a doctor and you’re a lawyer and her stay at home ass wants a nicer lifestyle, hm?” said Dean. “Tell her to shove it up her ass and to get a job if she wants money.”

“She sounded different, Dean. Like maybe she’s in trouble or something,” said Sam.

“That’s the same crap she pulled on you when you were eighteen and twenty one and twenty four and guess what, it’s three years later again. Time for her to lie to you, right on schedule.”

“She’s not the devil, Dean.”

“She slapped you in the face.”

“I was backtalking her. I deserved it.”

“You were an upset kid-”

“I was 14.”

“You were an upset kid and she hit you. That was the final straw for me and it should have been for you too,” said Dean. “You should stay away from her, Sam.”

“I’m not going to suddenly start hanging out with her. She just wanted to know if I’d consider meeting her and dad again and I told her I didn’t know and if I wanted to talk to them, I’d reach out, otherwise they could leave me alone. Happy?” Sam pushed his plate away and crossed his arms, pursing his lips while he stared at the counter.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt, Sammy. I wish our parents were normal. I’d kill to have had them. But they weren’t and they sucked and they’ve tried to manipulate us our entire lives. Just keep no contact and you’re better off.”

“Why don’t they ever contact you?” Sam looked up and Dean turned his head.

“They hate me. I hate them so that’s fine,” said Dean. 

“But why-”

“I got custody of you. I took you from them in their eyes, ergo they hate me.”

“I mean, do you ever think about-”

“No. I don’t plan on speaking to either one of them for the rest of my life,” said Dean. He finished his beer and picked up his pie plate again. “I know you want-”

“I used to want a lot of things. It wasn’t what was best for me though and I shouldn’t have given you so much shit for taking me away as a teenager.”

“Well alright then,” said Dean, picking at his pie again. 

“You ever gonna tell me how exactly you pulled that off? It was handled outside of court and I know you gotta have some shit or something on them,” said Sam.

“Maybe I’ll share someday but not tonight,” said Dean, his voice firm. “Why don’t you grab another couple beers and we’ll throw on a movie, alright? Polish off this pie.”

“Alright. I’m stealing some of your clothes though. I want to get out of this office crap,” said Sam. He stood up and headed for the stairs when Dean grunted. Sam looked back over his shoulder and Dean nodded.

“I’m glad you came over tonight,” said Dean.

“Me too. This girl must have made a hell of an impression.”

“You don’t know the half of it.”

Reader’s POV

“Tessa. Oh my God, it was fine the first time,” you said as she worked on your side braid again. “Dean’ll be here any minute.”

“Relax. Make him squirm,” she said. “How are you so shit at braiding hair anyways?”

“Cause mom never taught me, that’s why,” you said.

“I think it’s cause you’re just shit at it,” she said.

“You shouldn’t say shit all the time you know.”

“Seriously.”

“Just don’t do drugs and don’t get pregnant and I’m happy.”

“Well for the record, I’m a virgin,” she said.

“Good.”

“I actually do have a question.”

“You waited until I literally can’t move away, didn’t you,” you said as she moved your hair together.

“Yes, I did,” she smiled. “Um it’s kinda…”

“Go ahead and ask. I guarantee I had the same questions.”

“What’s a vibrator? One of the girls was talking about it in gym class and I didn’t...get it,” she said.

“Do you understand how girls masturbate?” you asked. She nodded and you bit your lip. “So you know how when you rub your...when you rub your clit it feels good, right? Some people like to use a vibrator which is normally a stick type thing that has different settings with a head end that’s rounded. If you put that against your clit, it can feel really, really good...and get you to orgasm pretty hard.”

“Oh. Okay,” she said as she finished with the braid. “So what’s a dildo?”

“Similar but basically a fake dick,” you said. 

“Uh, what?” she said as the doorbell rang.

“How about we talk about all this stuff tomorrow, okay?” you said.

“Okay. I’m still hung up on the fake dick thing.”

“Block it out of your head for now,” you said, shaking your head. “If I’m not back by the time you head to Hailey’s lock up and remember to bring Toast’s bed with you this time, okay? He likes it better than the hard floor.”

“I know, I know,” she said. You jogged downstairs and opened the door, Dean in a pair of jeans and a black tee shirt. 

“Howdy,” he said with a big smile.

“Hi Dean,” said Tessa out her window. 

“Hello Tessa,” he chuckled. “Torturing your sister today?”

“Always,” she said. “You two kids have fun now!”

“Oh you don’t even know what a fake dick is,” you said. “Do not go looking that up on the internet either.”

She groaned as you grabbed your purse and locked up, Dean laughing to himself.

“Sorry. She decided to literally start asking about sex toys right before you got here.”

“Sounds fun,” he said. You hopped down your steps and saw a very nice muscle car parked out front. “Hungry?”

“Starving.”

“I know the perfect place.”

“Okay, Winchester. I will respect your food truck game,” you said, munching on your taco. “Normally I’m leery but this is good.”

“Told you so,” he said. He took a big bite of his across from you, slurping down some lemonade. He burped and blushed, covering his mouth. “Excuse me.”

“You’re almost cute with that pink on your cheeks,” you said.

“I liked this better when you were the shy one,” he said. You smiled and ate quietly for a few minutes, Dean nodding when you were both finished. He took your hand and you started to walk around the big park in town, finding a walking trail after a few moments. “I like your hair. It’s cute.”

“My sister did it. I’m not you know, good at that stuff,” you said.

“I liked your hair yesterday too,” he said. “So how does one name a dog Toast?”

“I thought it’d be funny,” you said. “Tessa was on a limited diet at first at the hospital. Toast was the one thing she liked. When they talked to me about a service dog, I got in touch with some people and they were training a new litter so we got to name the dog and I picked Toast. It was just a goofy thing I suppose.”

“Is he always on duty?” he asked.

“No. His vest comes off at home and he’s a normal one mostly. Tessa’s staying with a friend tonight so he’ll go with her. He’s very protective of her. It’s why he ran home and got me yesterday.”

“Smart dog,” he said. “My brother always wanted a dog. It never quite fit with our life though.”

“How old is he?”

“A year younger than you. He might get one soon I think.”

“What about you?”

“I don’t think I’d be very good at it. My yard is big enough though,” he said. “I’m over on Fern Lane. The blue house.”

“You got that big cool balcony over the garage right?” you said.

“That’s the one,” he said. “I haven’t been there too long. It’s a nice neighborhood.”

“It is. We grew up here. I was out of the house but I moved back for Tessa. You from Lawrence?”

“Yeah. East side of town though. Always wanted to live over here,” he said. “Everything seemed so perfect over in the nice part.”

“Mostly,” you said. 

“It does get easier. Trust me.”

“I hope so,” you said. He bumped your shoulder and you smiled. “So what kind of doctor are you?”

“Obviously I’m a brain surgeon,” he said. You rolled your eyes and he laughed. “General family practice. I’m boring, I know.”

“That is still way too hard for me,” you said.

“I bet you could do it if you really wanted to. So what do you do? I overheard you say to Tessa you got a new job.”

“I was a paralegal at a law firm. On Monday I start as a junior investor at Sandover, the big marketing firm.”

“My friend Charlie is head of IT there,” he said. “She says it’s a pretty decent place to work.”

“Oh. That’s good. I hope it works out,” you said. 

“I bet it will. Just don’t let ‘em work you to death,” he said.

“I’m gonna try. I’m excited. This could be really good for us. Tessa doesn’t know how...tight things have been.”

“Leeman’s over on the east side, it’s a pretty cheap grocery store. It’s not fancy but we used to go all the time as a kid. Way cheaper than the box store over here,” he said.

“I’ll have to check it out,” you said. You looked him up and down, Dean smiling to himself. “You grew up kinda…”

“Poor? Yeah. It’s okay. It’s not a bad word,” he said. He ran his thumb over your hand and you smiled back at him. “You learn to get by. My brother’s a lawyer now so we don’t have to worry about that too much now.”

“Maybe Tessa’ll be a doctor,” you said. “That’d definitely help us.”

“I’m sure she’ll do something good. You can just tell she looks up to you. She won’t let you down.”

“Fingers crossed,” you said. “So why choose general medicine?”

“Thanks,” you said, sticking your arms through Dean’s flannel later that evening.You took his hand again, walking through downtown back towards his car.

“I don’t remember the last time I spent a Saturday like this, hanging out with someone,” he said.

“Been a while for me too,” you said.

“Is this still considered the first date?” he asked.

“Probably. Why?”

“You want to come over my place...for coffee?” he asked. 

“Oh.”

“No, no. I mean like, literal coffee. I have pie at home and...if I was talking sex I’d be a big boy and just ask,” he said.

“Oh. Well in that case, sure,” you said. “Guys that want sex on the first date normally don’t end up getting a second one in my experience.”

“Well I definitely want a second one,” he smirked. “Also I really want some pie and I need to know your pie stance because this could impact the future of this relationship greatly.”

“I see,” you laughed. “I like a man who knows where his priorities lie.”

“Damn straight I do,” he said. He threw his arm over your shoulders and chuckled. “It’ll knock your socks off, I guarantee it.”

“Alright, this is pretty good,” you said twenty minutes later as you sat at Dean’s kitchen counter, munching on a piece of blueberry pie. 

“Told you so,” he said. He ate another forkful, getting some whipped cream stuck on the tip of his nose. He didn’t notice and started to giggle as you stared at him. “What’s that face for goofy?”

“You got a little…” you said, reaching over and wiping it off with your thumb. You licked if off and he blushed for probably the tenth time that day. “You don’t strike me as shy around women, Dean.”

“Normally I’m not. You make me nervous. Good nervous but still nervous.”

“What about me is so intimidating?” you asked, stealing a tiny piece of his pie. 

“You remind me of me. I’ve been in similar shoes to yours. I know how easy it is to get set off and how people don’t realize you don’t mean what you’re saying.”

“Pushing people away you mean.”

“I don’t want to get pushed away or cross a line.”

“Tell me a secret and I’ll tell you one of mine,” you said.

“I took custody of my brother when I turned eighteen,” he said. You stared at him, Dean nodding. “My mom walked out when I was a kid more than once and my dad was...unkind at times. I protected my brother from it as much as I could. When I was able to, I left and I was given guardianship of my brother. I’ve not seen either of my parents since. I understand raising your younger sibling when you are scared shitless. Most people don’t. They don’t get that I’m still fucked up from the stuff that happened as a kid and when I took in my brother. People don’t get that, not all the way. Not even my best friends or my brother. But you have this look and I know you understand the same way I do so I’ll be nervous because I like you more than just because you’re pretty and helpful and a good sister. You get some part of me that I don’t talk about and it’s the part of you that you don’t talk about and maybe we can make that work.”

You leaned forward and kissed him, Dean sliding a hand to your cheek, a soft but comforting weight to it.

“What’s your secret,” he said quietly, your forehead resting against his.

“I lost my job,” you said. “I lied to Tessa. She worries so much already and I can’t let her know the truth. I’ve been working as a cashier the past month.”

“Y/N, you gotta tell her the truth.”

“She already feels guilty because our parents were picking her up from basketball practice when the accident happened. She goes to therapy, Dean. I can’t tell her. Not now.”

“Can you afford to stay in the house?”

“It’s almost paid off. She can afford four years at the university with my share of the inheritance.”

“Y/N. You can’t go bankrupt just to send her to a university.”

“Lots of people do.”

“Y/N. I practice general medicine because the state pays off my student loan debt if I do. You have to tell Tessa the truth about what’s realistic.”

“My seventeen year old sister currently makes more money than I do. I can’t take anything else from her. She deserves to go to the school she always wanted to.”

“Well...we need a new lab tech at work. Do you want it?” he asked.

“Dean, I’m not asking for a job.”

“I’m not giving charity either. You have a degree, you’re smart and I know you could do it. I don’t know the pay but it’s got to be better than minimum wage.”

“Dean.”

“Someone helped me. I was an eighteen year old kid with a part time job and I had no idea what I was doing. Someone helped me and it gave me a chance to live, to have all this. It’s not charity. It’s decency and everyone deserves that.”

“Never tell my sister,” you said.

“If you take the job I won’t.”

“Okay,” you said with a nod. “This was a more fun date a few minutes ago you know.”

“But now we’re really starting to know one another,” he said. You were quiet, playing with your fork for a beat.

“Can I stay over? I don’t like sleeping in the house alone.”

“Of course,” he said. You flicked your eyes up, Dean offering you a smile. 

“How do you get happy again?”

“Having a stranger run by shouting about toast helps,” he said. You rolled your eyes and he shrugged. “I’m not joking.”

“Why are you single?”

“I’m more complicated than I look at first glance. I’ve been told it’s not an attractive quality.”

“Well fuck whatever bitch said that.”

“I really like you,” he chuckled.

“I have my moments,” you said. You sat back, Dean pushing the bit of pie left on his plate around. “Was that too much...me sharing that.”

“No. I’m glad you did,” he said. “You want to watch something?”

“Whatever you want is fine.”

“Come on,” he said. He showed you upstairs and gave you some clothes to sleep in before he showed you outside to the balcony over the garage. “I sit out here at night sometimes.”

“It’s gorgeous,” you said. You settled down into an oversized chair with him, looking up at the dark sky.

“Yes, it is,” he said as he looked in your direction. 

“So what’s your favorite kind of pie?”

“Oh well if you want to go down that road I can chat your ear off all night.”

“Good morning,” said Dean as you made your way downstairs. You yawned and gave him a smile, Dean handing you a cup of coffee.

“Much appreciated.” You took a long gulp, stretching out and taking a deep breath. “What time is it?”

“After ten. We stayed up pretty late talking,” he said.

“I guess we did,” you said, rubbing the back of your neck. “Can I have your phone for a sec?”

“Sure,” he said. You put in your number and handed it back.

“Text me sometime,” you said.

“I think I’ll take you up on that,” he said. “I gotta run and do a few chores this morning but I’m having a few friends over later to watch football if you and Tessa would like to join.”

“You really want my sister hanging out with us?”

“Yeah. As long as she’s like, not a devil worshipper or doesn’t like pie she’s always welcome.”

“Only you would categorize those two things together,” you laughed.

“I am quite serious about my pies.”

“Oh I learned that last night,” you said. “I’ll invite her. She’s seventeen though so not sure how much fun she’ll have.”

“There’ll be a couple guys her age if-”

“She’ll definitely be there then,” you said.

“Great. Let’s have some breakfast quick before I drop you off at home.”

______

A/N: Read Part 3 here!

[restlessfandoming]

“the president and the troublemaker” (part 1) (chilumi fic)

“Lumine is the student council president and Childe is the school’s number one troublemaker. They cross paths more than they’d like. Especially when Childe finds out Lumine’s big secret. Highschool AU à la Kaichou wa Maid-sama.”

if anyone has seen maid-sama, Lumine and Childe sometimes reminded me of Misaki and Usui so i had to write it hehe :3 if you haven’t seen it, i highly suggest it, its a very cute anime and if you like chilumi, you’ll definitely like the main couple in it! its on netflix! :D

[Fic Masterlist] // [AO3 Link]

* * *

“the president and the troublemaker” (part 1)

“Childe, for the last time, earrings are against the school uniform code,” Lumine said to him, eyes narrowing at the red jewelry dangling from his ear. He may have towered over her, but she was the student council president—she had to enforce the rules no matter what. 

Childe tilted his head, fingers grazing over his earring. “A tiny thing like this? Surely you can let me off the hook, Madame President?” 

“No exceptions. Remove it now or I will forcibly confiscate it from you.” 

He scoffed, turning away. “I’d like to see you try.”

Lumine clenched her jaw, watching his back retreat down the hallway. Oh, she could easily take it from him. But this wasn’t the place to use brute force. As much as he boiled her blood, she wouldn’t dare reveal her secret here. 

Childe, the school’s number one troublemaker: always getting into fights, never listening to authorities, doing whatever he pleased. And the worst part? He always got away with it. 

The girls of the school fawned over his good looks, the boys envied his strength, and the elders fell victim to his charisma. 

Not Lumine though. She refused to be influenced by him. Maybe that’s why he always seemed so annoyed by her. Good. 

She ripped out a page of her student council notebook, scribbling out Childe’s name and dress code violation, pocketing it to turn in later. 

She practically stomped her way into the student council room, earning a glance from the Vice President—her twin brother Aether. 

“Childe?” he asked, going back to typing on his laptop. 

Lumine slumped in her chair. “Yes,” she nearly growled. “How did you know?”

“Because he always puts you in the worst of moods,” her brother answered. “Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to put him in his place.”

“And get kicked out of school for murder? No thank you; I’m not ruining an absolutely clean record for the likes of someone like Childe.” She flipped through her notebook, seeing all her citations on said troublemaker. “Soon enough, that boy is going to get expelled, mark my words.”

Suddenly, the door burst open, and the student council reporter—a student named Bennett—dashed in, holding the side of his face.

“Madame President!” he announced. “There’s a fight breaking out in the hallway!”

Both Aether and Lumine stood. “What happened to your face, Bennett?” Aether asked. 

The reporter let out a sheepish laugh. “I, uh, tried to break up the fight but ended up getting punched in the face.”

“Okay, c’mon, let’s get you to the nurse,” Aether said, walking Bennett out the door. 

Lumine quickly walked out after them, hearing the commotion down the hallway. As she turned the corner, there was a crowd of students circled around the tussle. 

“Out of the way!” Lumine shouted. 

At the sound of her voice, many students scattered back to their classrooms, leaving only the perpetrators still fighting: a short boy with cropped blue hair and—Childe.

“Hey!” she yelled. “Break. It. Up! Or it’s suspension for the both of you!” 

The short boy gave Childe a harsh shove, adjusting his odd cap with tassels on the sides. “You don’t have to fight me every time you see me, you brute,” the boy hissed. 

Childe laughed. “C’mon, Scaramouche, don’t be like that,” the ginger said. “We were just having some fun, Madame President; no need to make a big fuss out of it.” 

Lumine glared at him. “Why are you always at the center of trouble?” 

Childe shrugged. “Life’s too boring.” 

Taking out her notebook, she scoffed. “Well, it’s about to get a whole lot more boring for you. Detention. After school. Both of you.” 

“It was just some play fighting between friends, Pres,” Childe insisted. “Don’t be so stuck-up.” 

“Not play fighting when one of my council members gets hit in the face,” she retorted angrily. 

“Can I at least be let off the hook?” Scaramouche interjected. “He was the one who attacked me.” 

The blonde sighed. “Fine. This was your first offense anyways.” 

“Today’s his first day after all,” Childe supplied. 

“It’s his first day and you welcomed him by attacking him?” Lumine asked, crossing her arms. 

He smiled. “What can I say? We know each other.” 

I want to punch that smile off his face. “Scaramouche, go back to class. Childe, you’re coming with me to in-school suspension.” 

Scaramouche muttered something under his breath and walked away, while Childe cheerfully waved goodbye to him. 

Lumine started walking down the other way, towards the ISS room, Childe’s footsteps falling in behind her. Most of the way was done in silence. Until—

“Say, Pres, why are you so stuck-up?” Childe asked. 

Lumine grit her teeth. “Have you ever thought maybe I’m not stuck-up, and maybe you’re just a troublemaker?” 

“Hey, at least I make your life a little more interesting, don’t I?”

“Not interesting. So much more unbearable.” 

“Maybe you should loosen up. Being like this won’t make you many friends.” 

“And fighting people will?” 

“Fighting is fun. You’re telling me you’ve never watched a fight and found it entertaining?”

Lumine stopped in her tracks. “Of course not. You only do it when something’s seriously on the line. Not for fun.” 

“Uh-uhm, excuse me,” a timid voice said. 

Lumine turned to find a girl, she looked young, probably a freshman, clutching a card. “Can I help you?” the president asked.

“A-actually,” the girl responded, “can I t-talk to Ch-Childe? A-Alone?” 

The blonde glanced at Childe, who shrugged back at her. Letting out a sigh, she said, “Yes, go ahead.” She was doing this for the girl. Not Childe. 

She walked ahead and turned the corner until she was out of sight and unable to hear. After a minute or so, the freshman girl ran past her, hysterically crying. Brows furrowed, she went back to Childe. 

“So, where are we going?” he asked nonchalantly. 

Asshole. “What the hell did you do to her?” Lumine asked. “Do I really need to write you up again?”  

“What? All I did was reject her confession.”

A glare at him. “Be nicer. Don’t make girls cry.” She continued walking. 

“Or maybe she should just be stronger.” 

“Don’t you dare insult a girl’s strength in front of me.” 

“I’m not insulting the strength of a woman. I’m just saying people in general could do better if only they were stronger.” His strides quickened, and soon he was in front of her. He flicked the earring dangling from his ear. “For instance, if you had the strength, you could easily rip this from my ear, and you could stop stacking up those useless dress code citations for me.” 

Lumine had to clench her teeth to stop herself from murdering him on the spot. “I’m your student council president. I don’t solve things through violence. Which is why you and I are different.” Lie, her gut hissed. 

She stopped, throwing open the door to her left, gesturing into the room. “You’ll spend the rest of the school day here.” She turned in, looking at the teacher. “Mr. Diluc, you have a student here for in-school suspension for the rest of the day.” 

Mr. Diluc glanced up from his book, expressionless. “Childe. Back so soon?” 

Childe sauntered in, taking a seat. “You know our Pres. Always working on cleaning up the school from scum like me.” 

“Good for her,” Diluc said. “Thank you, Lumine.”

Lumine nodded and closed the door behind her. Finally.

At least Childe wouldn’t be causing anymore trouble today. 

* * *

Lumine shivered as the chilling locker room hit her bare skin. Shedding her hoodie, she donned a simple black sports tank top and shorts. 

“Are they ever going to get heaters for these locker rooms?” she muttered. 

“It’s an underground fighting ring,” Aether said, “You think they can afford state-of-the-art locker rooms?” He tossed her a roll of hand wraps. 

She caught it, unraveling it, and started to wrap them around her knuckles. “You’re right. As long as they pay me, I shouldn’t be complaining.” 

Aether nodded, taking her gloves out from her gym bag. “Are you ever going to tell Mom how you get all this cash?”

“Never. She’d probably die of a heart attack.” 

“And your injuries?” 

“I try not to get any,” she said with a smirk. “If I do, then, hey, the restaurant business can be dangerous...and I can be clumsy.” 

And that was her big secret. 

In the night, Lumine was a top tier fighter in Teyvat’s underground fighting ring. She was known as “The Outlander.” 

After their father had walked out on them years ago, Lumine, Aether, and their mother were left with a huge amount of his debt to pay off. Their mother took on two jobs to support them, leaving her exhausted, sickly, and barely home. Lumine and Aether couldn’t find decent paying jobs at their age, so Lumine took matters into her own hands. 

Through her tenacity, she trained hard and started showing up to the underground fights, learning her way through the system, and eventually began fighting herself. Sure, it was illegal due to the violence and betting system, but it made good money—fast. Enough money to support their family, pay off the debt, and save some aside for her and Aether’s future.

Aether of course still worked as a cashier at a local grocery store (next to the restaurant Lumine claimed she worked at); Lumine would never let her dear brother participate in her line of work. He was only allowed to come along to cheer her on.   

She was also good at it. After some training, her instructors all praised her natural fighting instincts. In a matter of months, she had become one of the top fighters in her area. 

It was out of necessity. They needed the money. 

Of course, no one knew who she really was. She always fought with a mask on—she couldn’t let her identity be compromised. A high school student beating up all these grown adults? A chance she could be recognized and reported to authorities? No. Way. Plus, people liked the mysterious Outlander figure. Might as well milk it. 

The cheers above her swelled, and Lumine did her final stretches and prepped to go out on stage. 

“You ready to fight tonight?” Aether asked. 

Lumine slipped her mask on. “Always.” 

She made her way up the staircase, and the buzzing crowd grew louder and louder, until she entered the arena, and the cheers became deafening. 

The arena was probably around the size of her school gym, maybe smaller, but packed to the brim with cheering fans and a boxing cage in the middle. 

She made her way up to the cage, chants of “Outlander” swirling around her, and took her walk around the area, getting a feel for the night. Eventually, her mind blurred out the crowd, focusing on becoming in tune with her body. 

Tonight, her opponent was another member of the Hilichurl gang: a gang notorious for entering lots of members into these types of fights, even if they weren’t good, as a way to try and earn any kind of money for their gang. It was an easy win. Lumine barely got hit. (The Hilichurl on the other hand ended the night sobbing his heart out on stage. Lumine felt kind of bad. Kind of.)

Soon enough, she and Aether were on their way home with a fresh wad of cash in their bag, practically skipping their way past the dim street lights. As they made their way towards their bus home, Lumine rifled through her bag, realizing she had left one of her textbooks in the locker room from when she had been studying before the fight. 

She cursed. Now she had to go all the way back to the arena. “Aether, you need to get home—the next bus won’t be here for another hour.” 

“Lumine, I am not leaving you alone in this sketchy part of town.” 

“And you have to be there when Mom gets back, otherwise she’ll get suspicious.” Lumine was already turning around. “Tell her I had to stay behind at the restaurant to help clean up.” 

Her brother pursed his lips. 

“Aether. I’ll be fine. Did you seriously forget what I did to get that stack of cash?” she reassured. 

He sighed. “Fine, fine. You’re right.” He hugged his sister. “Still. Be careful, please.” 

She held up her fist which was still wrapped in the fighter’s tape. “Of course. See you back home.” 

With that, the twins went separate ways. 

Now maskless, Lumine went the back ways to the arena, entering through a side door, avoiding the still rowdy crowd of spectators gathered for the late night fights. She successfully grabbed her textbook, and walked back out the side door. Straight into somebody. 

Shit. “Excuse me,” she mumbled, keeping her head down, hoping they wouldn’t ask why some little high school girl was sneaking around the underground fighting arena. 

But then the person spoke. 

“Wow,” a familiar voice said. 

Lumine looked up, wide eyed. Shitshitshitshit—

“This is a surprise,” Childe said, “Madame President.”

* * *

[part 2]

[kuroopaisen]

tiny love || vii

➵ as tooru’s younger sister, falling in love with iwaizumi hajime was easy. iwaizumi ultimately decided to rebuff you. through a few strange twists of fate, you’ve ended up living with the very boy who’d broken your heart. but, perhaps it’s not as bad as you thought it’d be. he is the perfect gentleman, after all. 

warnings: f!reader, depictions of intoxication

wc: 5.2k

m.list |  ch. 6 ↞ ch. 7 ↠ ch. 8

You peered at yourself in the mirror, doing your best to not crinkle your makeup.

It’d been a while since you’d bothered to dress up this nicely.

You were just wearing a simple yet flattering black dress, offset by your favourite shade of red lipstick. You weren’t sure if you actually looked good, or if it was just nicer than anything else you’d worn that week.

You’d sent a photo to Amaya, but upon receiving her affirmation you started to doubt the authenticity of it. Not that she’d given you reason to; no, you’d just decided that she was far too supportive to trust for an objective opinion.

You sighed, tilting your head to the side as you looked at the mirror.

Whatever, you thought. This’ll just have to do.

“I’m ready!” You called out, slipping into the front room after grabbing your handbag.  

“Give me a moment,” Iwaizumi called out. The tinniness of his voice implied that he was still in the bathroom.  

You sighed, taking a moment to check the contents of your bag. Phone, wallet, lipstick, mirror… That’s all you’d need, right?

“You got everything?” Iwaizumi asked, almost as if he’d appeared out of nowhere.

“Mhm!” You smiled, looking up at him.

You wondered, for a moment, if there was something on your face.

He was staring at you, his eyes a little wider and rounder than usual.

You tilted your head at him. “Everything okay?”

“Uh, yeah.” He blinked at you for a second, as if your words had shocked him back to the present moment. His eyes scanned your body slowly before lingering on your face again. “You look good.” 

You hoped your foundation masked the heat rising in your cheeks.

It’s frustrating, how hot he looked without even trying. He was just in a black button up (the top few buttons undone, of course) and a pair of jeans, and yet he looked like that. He’d barely done anything to his hair, either; just a bit of gel, from the looks of things.

“Are you ready to go?” He asked, finally breaking the excruciating silence.

“Yeah,” you nodded. Stupid Iwaizumi Hajime with his stupid face and his stupid black button up and his stuck jeans and his stupid—

“I’ll drive,” he said, patting his jean pocket.

“Oh, are you sure?” You asked. “You don’t want to drink?”

“It’s fine. Someone’s got to keep an eye on you,” he grinned, throwing you a wink.

“Hey!” You whined. “You haven’t even seen me drunk!”

“Oh, so you do intend on getting drunk then?” He chuckled, heading for the apartment door.

You gaped for a moment, searching for a comeback. “Well, you’re the one who said that uni parties are for getting shit-faced.”

“That doesn’t mean you should get shit-faced, though.”

You rolled your eyes as you followed him. “Whatever you say, dad.”

✧ ✧ ✧

You hadn’t known what to expect from your first visit to a rooftop bar, but suffice to say you were impressed. When you’d asked Iwaizumi how the club had the budget to book somewhere this nice, he’d just shrugged.

“A lot of Japanese students, I guess,” was his only explanation.

Upon paying twenty-five dollars to officially ‘join’ at the door, you started to formulate a strong theory as to just where the club was getting its money.

There were far more people here than you’d anticipated. You knew it would be big, you hadn’t expected it to be this big. People were packed in like the clothes in your wardrobe, barely giving each other room to breathe. It was a sea of completely unrecognisable faces – and yet, seeing all these people who looked and sounded like you made you feel a little more at ease.

The music – which seems to be a mix of songs you don’t recognized – thumped loudly throughout the area. You wondered if there’d be any noise complaints.

Iwaizumi led you to the bar, managing to find two seats. You weren’t entirely sure how; you mostly chalked it up to the providence of God.

“I’m just going to go to the toilet, okay?” Iwaizumi said. “You’ll be alright on your own for a second, right?”

You nodded. “Don’t worry about me!”

Iwaizumi gave you a look as if to say ‘that’s impossible.’

You fought the urge to stick your tongue out at him. That would only elucidate his point.

After a few more moments of staring (under which you thought you were going to crumble to dust), Iwaizumi eventually disappeared into the crowd.

You sighed, placing your hands in your lap.

In all honesty, you didn’t know what to do. You felt it only right to stay where you were, mostly to avoid giving Iwaizumi a heart attack should he come back and see you weren’t there. But, you didn’t have the confidence to order a drink, either. Or get the bartender’s attention.

“Hey.”

A voice that somehow managed to make itself heard over the music startled you out of your thoughts.

You whipped your head round, only to see a guy you’d never met before sitting in Iwaizumi’s seat. He had soft features framed by a strong chin and wavy brown hair. If you had to guess, you’d say he was around your age.

“Hey,” you said automatically, relieved at the fact that he’d greeted you in Japanese.

“You speak Japanese?” He smiled.

“You’d assume so,” you smiled back. “Seeing as I’m here and all.” You gestured to the room around you. Underneath the music, you could make out a bubble of conversation – most of which was Japanese.

“Hey, a lot of second-gen immigrants don’t necessarily learn the language,” he shrugged. His entire demeanour was so… good-natured. So polite. Even if he had taken a seat without asking.

“Oh, really?” You hadn’t known that. Albeit, it wasn’t really something you’d thought about too much.

“Mhm,” he nodded. “I mean, that’s what my friend told me.”

“Ah,” you said.

“I’m Kohei, by the way,” he gave you a little nod.

You returned it as you introduced yourself.

“Nice to meet you,” he grinned. “What year are you in?”

“First,” you said. “I only got here a couple of weeks ago.”

“Oh!” His face lit up. “Me too!”

“Really?”

“Yeah! I’m from Tokyo!”

“Ah, so you’re a city boy,” you smiled.

He blushed a little. “Well, uh…”

“I’m from Miyagi,” you cut in. “Although, I did go to Sendai every now and then.”

“Oh, I never got the chance to visit,” he smiled. “What made you come to America?”

“I wanted to study psychology,” you answered. “I thought the options would be better here.”

“Ah,” he nodded. He had the sort of eyes that made him look like he was deeply engaged in whatever you were talking about.

“What about you?” You asked.

“Oh, I just wanted to come here for the adventure,” he said sheepishly.

“The ‘adventure’?” You smiled, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Yes,” he nodded. “I thought it would be cool. But… English is a bit tricky, isn’t it?”

You laughed. “Oh, yeah…”

A squeal of your name cut through the crowd.

You turned, bewildered and a little frightened.

“Hi!” Yuna beamed, throwing herself at you.

You instinctively wrapped your arms around her. From the flush in her cheeks, you could tell she’d already had a few.

“I’m so glad you came!” She whined. “And you look so pretty!”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “So do you!”

Yuna whined again, drawing back to pout at you. “Why didn’t you come and find me immediately?”

“I didn’t know you were here,” you laughed.

She narrowed her eyes at you. “Fair enough…” Her gaze snapped to Kohei, her glare getting more intense. “And who is this?”

“This is Kohei,” you said, leaving them to introduce themselves to each other.

You scanned the crowd, a frown forming. Where was Iwaizumi? He’d been gone a while… Or did it only feel like a while? If Yuna dragged you away, it may be hard to find him and assure him that you were okay, because you just knew he’d be developing an aneurism…

You caught sight of him. He gave you a tiny wave, an expression that looked something like relief on his face. That look alone was enough to soothe you.

Tonight was already shaping up to be a good time.

✧ ✧ ✧

“Can you stand?” Iwaizumi asked, watching you with an expression of disgruntled concern on his face.

“Yes,” you said with far too much emphasis. You pointed at him with one very obstinate finger.

Kohei had bought you a drink, and Yuna had challenged you to a line of shots. Mei had pointed out that perhaps you shouldn’t go overboard. You’d been adamant that you knew your limit. That’d been a big fat lie.

“Are you sure?” He asked again, taking a step towards you.

“Yes!”

As soon as you said it, you toppled left.

Iwaizumi grabbed you by your shoulders, stabilizing you.

“Whoops,” you pouted.

He sighed, releasing you. “You alright?”

You blinked at him for a second. “Iwa…”

“Mhm?”

“I don’t think I can stand.”

Iwaizumi bit the inside of his cheek. He was trapped somewhere between annoyance and burgeoning fondness.

“Alright,” he said, standing at your side. “Let me help.”

“Thank you,” you hummed, beaming at him as he leant down to drape one of your arms across his shoulders.

You leant your entire weight against him without warning.

He grunted, one arm grabbing your waist to keep you on your feet. “Careful now.”

“Sorry,” you whined. “I didn’t mean to…”

“I know,” Iwaizumi smiled, shaking his head. “Let’s get you back to the car, alright?”

“That is an excellent plan, Iwa. You should be proud.”

Oh, fuck, he thought. He just couldn’t keep that smile off his face.

✧ ✧ ✧

By some miracle, he managed to get you to the car in one piece.

Even better, the drive home had been relatively uneventful. You’d just babbled on about why Riza Hawkeye from Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood was, in fact, the perfect woman. Iwaizumi had just smiled, nodding along whenever he was required to.

You still needed support getting up the stairs to your apartment; when you tried to take matters into your own hands, you always managed to trip.  

But, finally, he’d gotten you both inside the house, your arm still draped over his shoulders and his arm still wrapped around your waist. It was, quite frankly, almost too much.

Iwaizumi sighed, opening your bedroom door with his free hand.

“But Iwa,” you whined, pouting up with him. “I need to have a shower.”

“You can’t stand up straight,” he chuckled. “You can have a shower in the morning.”

“But I’ve gotta wipe my makeup off,” you droned. “Or else I’ll get a breakout.”

“Hm…” He scanned your room, settling on the clutter of makeup on your desk. “Do you have anything you can wash your face with?”

The idea of you trying to stabilize yourself in the shower gave him more anxiety than he was comfortable with. You shouldn’t wake up with both a hangover and a concussion.

“Wipes?” You blinked, pointing at your desk.

Iwaizumi took a moment to find them. He assumed it was the little green packet that didn’t look familiar to him.

“Thanks,” you beamed up at him as he passed them to you.

He tried his best to ignore the squeezing in his heart as he noticed how your eyes sparkled as you looked at him.

You ignored him for a moment as you dealt with your makeup.

He looked away out of respect, eyes landing on the collage of photos stuck above your desk. He ambled towards them mindlessly, gazing at the myriad of images.

There were many faces he recognized. Tooru, Amaya, your mother, Kaori… He realised, not without a strange sharpness in his chest, that he only featured in a single photo. It was one from his graduation; one that you were both ‘obligated’ to be in.

But he knew his absence from these photos was his own doing. If he just hadn’t had been such an idiot, then…

“Is it gone?” You asked.

He turned back to you, biting back a laugh. “Uh… not quite.”

Your lipstick, which had already been in a poor state, was smeared all around your mouth, looking more like a rash. Your foundation was splotchy, some patches mostly removed and others untouched. And to top it all off, your mascara had been melted into a muddy puddle beneath your eyes.

Overall, you looked a bit like a raccoon he’d caught eating beetroots out of his garbage.

You whined, lying back on your bed.

“It’ll be fine,” he chuckled. “It’s just one night.”

“No, you don’t understand,” you emphasized, “makeup is bad for your skin.”

Iwaizumi grinned, grabbing what he assumed to be your pyjamas from the end of the bed and tossing them to you. “You’ll feel better if you change into something more comfortable.”

You glared at him from your horizontal position, the expression emphasised by a couple extra chins.

Iwaizumi left the room quickly and closed the door, making a beeline for the kitchen. He prepared you a glass of water, going through the checklist in his head of how to take care of someone well over their limit.

When he got back to your bedroom door, he was sure to knock.

He took the garbled ‘mhm!’ he got in response as affirmation.

He opened the door slowly, peeking round the door to see you sat cross-legged on the bed with a pout. From the looks of it, you’d put your top on backwards.

His heart thumped in that terrifyingly familiar way.

“Drink this,” he mumbled, handing you the glass.

You nodded, taking it with both hands and tipping it back with ferocity.

Iwaizumi gazed at his feet while he did so, trying to smother the burgeoning fondness in his chest.

He couldn’t do that again. He couldn’t. It wouldn’t be fair.

“I’m done!” You called out in a sing-song voice, thrusting the empty cup towards him.

“Do you want some more?” He asked as he took the cup from you.

You beamed up at him. “Mhm!”

Iwaizumi sighed. He wasn’t going to say no to that face.

As he went to get you a second glass of water, he kept trying to push those sorts of thoughts out of his head.

He’d been doing so well. Of course, he’d wanted to be friends with you again. Being able to get along would be key to making this whole living situation work. But the closer he got, the more he was reminded of what had happened two years ago.

And like an idiot, he’d tried to position himself as someone you could rely on. He wanted to be someone you could rely on.

But was that because it was the right thing to do, or because of something else?

He shook his had and blinked rapidly. He’s just thinking these things because he’s had a bit to drink. That’s all. It’s nothing serious.

He kept repeating those thoughts as he dragged himself back to your room, determined not to succumb to them.

The last time he’d fallen into them, you’d completely excised each other from your lives. That wasn’t exactly an option here.

He took a deep breath as he stepped into your room, steeling himself for whatever was to come.

You were laid on your bed, limbs curled around one of your pillows. Were you asleep?

Well, he thought, that’s probably for the best.

Iwaizumi sighed, placing the water on your bedside table. Chances were, you were going to wake up with quite the headache. But, he supposed, it’s something of a learning experience. It’s good to know your limits.

He carefully picked up the corner of your blanket and tugged it over you. It was fall, after all. He didn’t want you catching a cold.

Once he was sure everything was in order, he flicked your light off and left, closing the door behind him.

A sudden wave of exhaustion hit him as he dragged himself back to his room. He didn’t dare check the time; he was sure it’d just upset him.

Better to just try and forget about this night and move on.

✧ ✧ ✧

After that party, you’d made a vow to never drink again.

The vow lasted for all about a week. Although, you were much more careful about just how much you were drinking at any given time.

You did, however, stick to your promise to never, ever sleep in your makeup ever again.

Though neither alcohol nor makeup had been an issue as of late.

You’d done your best to give yourself as much time as possible to work on your assignments, mainly so you could ensure that your language use was as proficient as possible. But, even that hadn’t been enough to stave off the beast that is procrastination.

The result, of course, was a flurry of three days wholly dedicated to one assignment about neurotransmitters. You were in total shutdown mode, nothing on your mind but getting this stupid thing done.

You’d even left your room and settled yourself at the dining table in an attempt to stop the ever-coaxing allure of your bed pulling you away from your work desk for yet another nap.

Oh, and texting Amaya at any given moment as a way of putting off your work.

Our time zones don’t line up that well, you kept telling yourself. It’s fine, I can justify this distraction.

“Hey.”

You looked up at Iwaizumi with a thoroughly worn-out expression on your face. “Hello.”

“You okay?” He chuckled.

“As much as I can be,” you whined, turning to glare your computer screen.

“Here,” he said, placing a glass of water and an apple on the desk next to you. You hadn’t even noticed that he had them.

Your heart thumped a funny little rhythm in your chest.

Sure, you were used to Iwazumi’s gentlemanly ways by now. But that didn’t mean your heart didn’t race a little faster at each little act of kindness.

“Keep your fluids up,” he said, nodding at the water. “If you get a headache, we have some Panadol in the cupboard.”

“Thank you,” you blushed.

“No problem,” he smiled, turning around to return to the kitchen.

A new chat lit up on the corner of your screen.

[Kohei] [7:03 PM] Hey! How’s your assignment going?

[You] [7:03 PM] It’s… going?

[Kohei] [7:04 PM] Ahaha oh dear… that doesn’t sound good

[You] [7:03 PM] I am, as the kids say, suffering

[Kohei] [7:03 PM] Oh, I’m so sorry :( is there anything I can do to help?

You sighed, rubbing your eyes. You just needed to get this stupid thing done. Then you’d finally be able to relax.

✧ ✧ ✧

You held your milk tea up to your face, peering at it closely.

“Something wrong?” Iwaizumi asked, raising an eyebrow at you. He was perfectly content with the grapefruit tea he’d ordered, as he usually was.

“I think they skimped on the pearls this time,” you mused.

Iwaizumi chuckled, shaking his head. “Need me to talk to them?”

“No!” You shook your head quickly, any sign of malice disappearing from your face. “No, please don’t!”

“I’m just teasing,” he grinned, flicking your forehead lightly.

“Ow!” You pouted, rubbing the besieged spot gingerly.

“No need to be dramatic.”

“Quite the contrary, actually,” you shook your head, “I’m in my youth. It’s the prime time to be dramatic.”

Iwaizumi gave you the kind of look that implied he had no idea what you were talking about. In truth, neither did you.

You were just in an uncommonly good mood.

The two of you were on your way to a club meeting, organised by the Japanese Students Association. In all honesty, you weren’t sure what the meeting was actually about. All you knew was that you’d been invited. Specifically. Even though you were still just a first year.

And apparently, your presence had been requested by Mei.

Meaning you were actually wanted there.

The thought made your chest bubble with joy. You were wanted somewhere. People wanted to see you. On your merits. Not because of the family you’d be born into.

Sure, knowing Iwaizumi had given you a leg up, but they weren’t obligated to spend time with you, right? Right?

“Hajime?”

You both stopped in your tracks, turning towards the source of this new voice.

It was a girl you didn’t recognise – although you had to admit that she was quite stunning. Her dark hair was tied up in an impressively neat high ponytail, and her red lipstick was impeccable. The look, if she was going for it, was definitely ‘I could kill a man with the mere snap of my fingers.’

“Oh,” Iwaizumi blinked.

Was he… caught of guard?

“Ah, it is you,” the girl smiled, tilting her head at him. “How are you?”

“Good,” he said quickly. You didn’t miss how his grip tightened around his cup.

The girl nodded, her eyes fixed intently on his face.

You felt a bit like you were intruding on something very personal.

“Who’s this?” The girl asked, her gaze shifting to you.

You froze, unsure of what to say.

“Uh, this is my friend,” Iwaizumi said, gesturing to you. “Who also happens to be my roommate.”

You nodded at this girl as Iwaizumi introduced you, trying to ignore the swell in your chest at the fact he’d introduced you as a ‘friend’ first and foremost.

“Ah,” the girl smiled, nodding. “I’m Misaki, by the way.”

The warmth that’d just been spreading through your chest turned cold.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you said automatically, trying to stave off whatever confusing mess of emotion was going on inside of you.

“You too,” Misaki smiled.

The three of you stood there for a moment, completely silent.

“We’re on our way to a meeting,” Iwaizumi said, clearing his throat.

“Oh, really?” Misaki blinked. “I’m sorry for taking up your time.”

“It’s no problem,” Iwaizumi shook his head, holding a hand up. “You didn’t know.”

“Right,” Misaki nodded slowly, looking between the both of you. “Well, see you around.”

“Yeah,” he murmured, turning to you. “We should get going,” He didn’t wait for your response, walking off at a slightly faster pace than usual.

“Right,” you nodded, falling into step alongside him.

His whole demeanour seemed… off. Like something had really bothered him. It didn’t take a genius to work out why. But, you thought it best to get the facts instead of relying on your own suspicions.

“So,” you began, once you were sure Misaki was safely out of earshot, “who is she?”

Iwaizumi cleared his throat, gaze stuck firmly to the ground. “Uh… she’s my ex.”

“Oh?” You replied. You didn’t want to seem too interested – even though, in fact, you were very interested.

“Yeah…” Iwaizumi nodded slowly. “We broke up a few months ago.”

“Oh…” You bit the inside of your cheek. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Iwaizumi shrugged. “We didn’t suit each other.”

“I see…” Break ups were entirely new territory for you. None of your friends had really dated in high school – and if they did, the breakup usually came as some sort of relief. Your friends had never asked for comfort even if you’d offered it.

But, seeing how the two of them had just interacted with each other…

“How long were you together?” You asked. Was that too invasive? You weren’t sure.

“About six months.”

You tried to ignore the stabbing in your gut. Six months? Six months? Sure, that might not be that long in the grand scheme of things, but it sure sounded like a long time to you. You hadn’t even been living with Iwaizumi for six months.

“Ah…” You pressed your lips together, brow furrowing as you searched for what to say. “If you need to talk to someone about it…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Iwaizumi smiled. “Really, I’m over it. I just didn’t expect to run into her today.”

You nodded. “That’s fair.”

“Usually I’d get a heads up before seeing her,” he shrugged.

“Huh?”

“Well, uh…” He cleared his throat. “We see each other at events, sometimes. For the Japanese Association.”

“Oh?” Now that piqued your interest.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “We actually met through it.”

Something twisted in your stomach. They’d met through the Student Association? It shouldn’t have made the thought of going to events weird, and yet it did.

“Oh really?” You asked, trying to seem unbothered.

“Mhm,” Iwaizumi nodded. “A lot of people end up finding a partner there.”

You frowned. Were you expected to find a partner there? Would you find a partner there?

Maybe you would. Maybe you’d finally find someone to date.

Although, you weren’t sure how anyone was supposed to measure up to Iwaizumi. Especially when he was standing right there.

“Anyway,” he sighed, picking up his pace. “We’ll be late.”

“Right,” you nodded, scurrying after him.

All you could hope for was to be able to push the thought of Misaki out of your head.

It felt petty, childish. You shouldn’t’ve been so concerned with Iwaizumi’s love life; his dating history shouldn’t matter to you.

But the questions swirled in your head as the two of you rushed across campus.

Had he dated anyone other than Misaki? Had he loved her? How far had they gone together? Did he miss her? Did he ever think about her?

Or, worse yet, was he on the look-out for someone else?

✧ ✧ ✧

“It’s not that hard once you understand the basics,” Iwaizumi said.

“Right,” you nodded, watching his hands intently as he sliced up an onion.

“If you place your hand like this,” he said, fist placed on the onion so that his knuckles ghosted the knife, “you’re less likely to cut yourself.”

“Ah,” you marvelled. “That’s actually a really helpful tip.”

“I know,” he grinned. “That’s why I’m sharing it with you.”

You rolled your eyes.

Iwaizumi moved onto the carrots, which you’d peeled yourself. Maybe you were a bit too proud, given the size of the task, but he let you get away with it.

He chopped the carrots with his typical proficiency.

You rested your elbows on the countertop, propping your chin up on the palms of your hands.

“We should have a dinner party,” you suggested, the image of all your shared friends gathered round your table, laughing and smiling, filling your heart with a precious warmth.

“That’s not what uni students usually do,” Iwaizumi smiled. “Not in America, anyway.”

“So?” You turned to him with a defiant expression. “We can all pretend to be upper-middle class for the evening,” you opined, tilting your chin at him. “It’ll be fun.”

“I’ll think about it,” Iwaziumi smiled.

“Pft,” you scoffed, shaking your head. “Like it’s up to you. I can just hold one without you.”

You wouldn’t really do that. You’d met them through him, after all.

“Yeah?” Iwaizumi grinned, a certain glint in his eyes. “What’re you going to serve everyone? Burnt rice?”

“Hey!” You whined. “It was one time!”

“How do you even burn rice?” Iwaizumi teased.

You pouted, lifting your fist and lightly punching him in the chest.

“You’re going to have to do better than that, sweetheart,” he laughed, puffing his chest out proudly. “I barely even felt that.”

“Fine.” You went for another swing.

Iwaizumi caught your wrist, holding it above your head in a gentle grip.

You swung with your other hand, only for him to catch that one, too.

You glared at him – but you know he’s aware that you’re just having a bit of fun.

“You’re the worst and I hate you,” you huffed.

“Keep telling yourself that,” he smirked.

You tried to think of some retort, some witticism that’d catch him off guard.

Nothing came to mind. Not when you were so close to him, his hands wrapped around your wrists as he looked at you with that expression. Stupid Iwaizumi Hajime and his stupid face and his stupid voice and his stupid—

You brought your knee up to his stomach, making him flinch.

His stumbled backwards and you tried to tug your wrists away. But his grip was too strong, even when he wasn’t trying all that hard.

“Stop,” you whined. “Let me go.”

“Say sorry.”

“For what?”

“Punching me.”

“Oh, come on,” you pouted at him. “It didn’t even hurt.”

“And?” He raised an eyebrow at you. “It’s about the principle of it.”

“Of punching you?”

“Mhm. It’s not very polite.”

You tried to tug away again. Your mind was wandering much too far. Farther than it should.

“Brattiness is an inherited trait,” you said, “it’s just part of being an Oikawa.”

Iwaizumi chuckled, finally letting you go.

Maybe the implication of your brother was enough to do it.

“You might be right about that,” he teased.

You stuck your tongue out at him petulantly.

Don’t make it hard for yourself, you thought. Not again.

✧ ✧ ✧

The sound of some generic eighties rock band bounced through your apartment as you and Iwaizumi tended to the DVD rack stood next to the TV.

“You have the taste of an old man,” you teased, glancing at Iwaizumi out the corner of your eye.

“These are classics,” Iwaizumi tsked.

“Kohei described them as ‘dad bands,’” you hummed.

“And why should this Kohei’s opinion matter more than mine, hm?”

“I never said it did,” you grinned, moving the DVD for Ferris Buller’s Day Off to its designated genre category. Why Iwaizumi had spent so much money on DVDs, you didn’t know. You would’ve thought that they’d just provide more clutter, especially if he planned on moving back to Japan.

You’d just surmised that it had something to do with his natural ineptitude with technology.

“What does this ‘Kohei’ even listen to?” Iwaizumi asked.

You shrugged. “I don’t know, actually.”

“You know, you’ll look back at the music of this decade and realise most of it’s garbage,” Iwaizumi grunted.

“Okay, grandpa.”

“I’m serious.”

“I know you are,” you grinned, “you’ve got that look on your face.”

Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow at you. “What look?”

“You know,” you giggled, turning to face him. “This look.”

You drew your eyebrows together a little, narrowing your eyes just enough to make them a bit more intense. To finish it off, you turned the corners of your mouth down, performing your best impression of a certified ‘Serious Iwaizumi.’

He flicked your forehead gently, a fond smile on his face. “I don’t look like that.”

“Oh, but you do,” you stressed. “You’re going to get premature wrinkles if you’re not careful.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he shrugged. “At least I’ll have my arms.”

You couldn’t argue with that. The only thing left to do was return to your task, hoping that the very invasive thought of Iwaizumi’s well-built arms would get out of your head.

There was a tap on your shoulder.

“Hm?” You turned to look at him.

He held up two DVD cases. “Blade Runner, or Back to the Future?”

You glanced between the two of them intently. “Huh?”

“We should take a break,” he suggested.

“Ah,” you nodded. “Which one’s less depressing?”

“Uh…” Iwaizumi looked between the two of them. “Back to the Future. Definitely.”

“I wanna watch that one, then.”

Iwaizumi nodded, turning around and turning the TV on.

You bit the inside of your cheek. Watching a movie with Iwaizumi, huh? Now that was dangerous territory. This time, at least, you knew to put a pillow between the two of you.

[whatifxwereyou]

The Oncoming Storm Part 3: Earthrealm

Fandom: Mortal Kombat 2021

Liu Kang x Reader or Kung Lao x Reader

Summary: You meet the mythical Lord Raiden. He reminds you of your dad, but nicer, oddly enough. Liu Kang might also be your new best friend.

A/N: Thanks again everyone! This has been such fun. I meant to say earlier that this takes place a couple years prior to the film (also that I know a bit about MK as a game series, so I will include tidbits here and there if I can). ALSO! I am open to any suggestions that you may wish to see throughout this story- either for Liu Kang or Kung Lao. I can't guarantee I will use them but I will consider them. I am delighting in writing this!! EDIT:: lol why did no one tell me there were so many errors in this one. All fixed!

The Beginning << Previous Chapter Next Chapter >> Chapter Index

The days that followed were a struggle. Monks would visit and care for your wounds at all hours of the day. You were in and out of consciousness. When you did manage to stay awake, you would meditate and do simple exercises to keep your body strong. That was a struggle in itself. Wounds needed rest to heal but you refused to become weak to them in the meantime. You were ready to fight.

Without fail Liu Kang would visit every evening. He brought books for you to read together. On his second visit he gifted you with a crudely bound leather journal and a pen to take notes with. You were inquisitive and Liu Kang was a wealth of knowledge. On nights where you finished a book or a lesson early, you would meditate together. Other nights you would chat and often times those chats would end in swapping personal stories. You had become fast friends.

You kept a calendar in the back of the journal. Liu Kang helped account for the time that you’d lost to unconsciousness. A week had passed since you’d woken up in Raiden’s Temple. You circled the x over the day and wondered where Kung Lao was. You’d asked around about him but had been told that many of the Earthrealm warriors were often absent. Apparently, he was frequently gone for long stretches of time. Many of the monks left on lengthy errands. Mortal Kombat and the protection of Earthrealm extended far beyond China. You wondered how much of the world Kung Lao had seen. You’d barely ever left your hometown for anything other than martial arts tournaments.

“Miss Y/N?” A monk pulled aside the sheet that had been pinned around the doorway of the small closet-sized space that had become your semi-permanent dwelling. You offered the monk a tired smile and gestured to allow him to enter. The monk bowed politely. “Your presence has been requested by Lord Raiden.”

“Oh?” You had known that you would meet with the man who the temple belonged to eventually. Liu Kang had told you that you would be summoned only after you’d been deemed well enough. You hadn’t passed out in exhaustion for the last 48 hours so you supposed this was as good a time as any. “Give me a moment to change, if you will.”

“Yes, of course Miss Y/N.” The monk bowed and left you with some privacy. You’d grown accustomed to the dressing gowns. They were comfortable and since you didn’t move around much, they worked. You’d been given several lightweight gi for future training and several hanfu, traditional Chinese garments, to wear if you desired. You wished, more than anything, that you’d gotten to pack some of your things before everything had gone to hell. No t-shirts or tank tops. No jeans or leggings. Not even any cute summer dresses. But you were grateful to have anything.

You changed into the soft blue and white hanfu that had become your favorite. It was simpler in design than the others but still long and flowing. You didn’t need anything terribly fancy to have a conversation with someone. You were sure that if Lord Raiden expected you to dress up then you would have been warned. Considering that Liu Kang rotated through the same three tattered gi and was almost always covered in soot, you doubted there was a strict dress code.

After you changed, you pulled your hair up lazily with a set of chopsticks. Then you returned to the monk who was waiting for you in the hall. The monk bowed again and then led you through the halls of the temple. The floor you’d been on had very few windows and only in the hallways. You followed the monk up several ramps and flights of stairs. Endless halls branched in every direction making the whole place seem labyrinthian. You were certain that you could spend weeks exploring the halls and still manage to miss things.

If the monk hadn’t been leading you then you wouldn’t have been able to resist your curiosity. After a good thirty minutes spent walking, you were led into a dark hallway with a rounded ceiling. It disappeared into the distance lit only by odd white statues that stood in a line along its center. The monk bowed and gestured down the hall.

“Good luck, Miss Y/N.” The monk then left you alone. You approached the glass statues in the center of the hall and found their insides sparking with electricity. They were funny in that they reminded you of a sophisticated and silent Tesla coil that fired constantly. Below the frosted glass you could see currents of electricity flowing almost as you imagined lightning would through the clouds. Your fingers brushed curiously over the glass.

“Miss Y/N?” A commanding and deep voice called from the end of the hall. You felt like a child who had disobeyed your teacher and winced. You hurried down the hall as quickly as your legs would allow then bowed before entering the room at its end.

“I’m sorry. I haven’t seen much outside of the infirmary. I was fascinated.”

The man who stood before you was of average build and height, his face mostly obscured by his hat. You grinned in surprise and recognition but then quickly fought to hide your glee. Raiden’s expression was severe, reminding you very much of your father and the way he’d glare at you when you’d said something un-lady-like as a child.

“There is much to discuss.” He gestured for you to take a seat on the floor in front of where he was seated with his legs crossed so you did. Much to your surprise, he was floating several inches off the ground and while you tried to hide your shock, you were sure your eyes had gone wide. “I am Lord Raiden; the protector of Earthrealm.”

“It’s an honor to meet you. Liu Kang has told me a little about you.”

“I am not surprised.” Raiden had a commanding voice as well as presence so you listened attentively. He explained the nature of other realms though he didn’t go terribly in depth with their origins or existence. Outworld was their greatest opposition with the desire to control earth and humanity. They were brutal warmongers from how Raiden described them. He then explained the tournaments and how if Outworld won a tenth tournament they could lay claim to Earthrealm.

Shang Tsung, a powerful sorcerer, would lead his armies there and take humanity as slaves. You didn’t ask but you wondered if Shang Tsung was the ruler of Outworld. You figured that if it were important then Raiden would tell you. He went on to tell you that Outworld had done this before with other realms and they had been devastated into waste.

Raiden spoke in a way that made it seem as though he had lived through countless lifetimes. While his tone often sounded severe, he also spoke with great purpose. “Our next tournament will not be for a few more years. You are one of Earthrealm’s chosen warriors.” Raiden’s lecture was winding down. “Do you have any questions?” You had known much of what Raiden had taught you that day but still sat patiently through it.

“I think I understand. If I have any questions later then I can ask Liu Kang. It’s difficult for me to wrap my mind around this craziness, for lack of a better word. He’s been very patient with me. The idea of arcana and how I’m meant to fight warriors from another world is still wild to me but I understand the concept. I think with time and practice I will be better off.” You stifled a giggle and then cleared your throat to stop any further giggles from escaping.

“Is there something you find funny?”

Guilt again. The kind you’d felt exclusively around your parents.

“You’re the man with the funny hat.” Your cheeks burned when he seemed affronted by your description of him. “I don’t mean to come off as rude! Forgive me. My shop is on the edge of town and there are many travelers passing through. I remember you from one of those visits. You chose your words carefully and spoke very little. You required precious stones and, as I often do, I made polite small talk. I asked what you needed them for and you said in the protection of Earthrealm which you quickly corrected to the protection of nature. You opened my eyes long ago to the secrets of the world though I was doubtful there was any truth to it until now.”

Raiden’s expression shifted and he seemed pleased but he was also difficult to read. You hoped he was pleased. Despite his severe and intimidating presence, he seemed well meaning.

“I don’t recall this instance but am happy to learn that there are those who learn the truth without panic or dismissal.”

“So, I have to fight then.”

“More than fight. You must find your arcana so that you may stand a chance against the warriors of Outworld. They are ruthless and possess skills that may seem impossible to you. Without your arcana you will not stand a chance.”

“How do I do that? Find my arcana, I mean.”

“Through trial and adversity. Everyone is different. Your arcana is unique to you.” Raiden stood and so you did the same. “Your training will begin tomorrow.”

You weren’t sure you were ready for that but you bowed respectfully. That was tomorrow’s problem. “Thank you. I promise to work my hardest.”

Raiden said nothing but didn’t look as though he quite believed you capable. You had long ago stopped seeking the approval of others. Actions spoke louder than words and you would do as you promised. Raiden turned from you without another word. You waited for an awkward moment to be dismissed then turned and left. You chose not to linger in the hall with the pretty lightning sculptures that had distracted you earlier.

The path back to the infirmary wasn’t easily found and you wandered aimlessly for a time before asking a monk to help you back to the infirmary. You were exhausted. Upon arrival you closed the curtain to your tiny room and sat on the edge of your bed. Your arms were aching. You were sore and tired. Gravity didn’t agree with your healing wounds. Training was going to be a bitch but you would be better for it.

Retrieving the journal Liu Kang had given you, you made yourself cozy after rekindling the flame of your lantern. You went over the notes from the day before and smiled. Your handwriting was often sandwiched between his. You’d had a difficult time holding a pen for the first few days and your handwriting was atrocious. There had been times where you’d been too dazed with exhaustion so Liu would take over and explain what he was writing down. He was incredibly considerate.

You drifted to sleep leaning against the wall behind your narrow bed, book in your arms. In your very brief dreams you’d been seated with a young Kung Lao in the field outside of your grandparents’ farm. The more you remembered of him the more you could see the man he’d grown up to be.

A knock against stone startled you awake and you jumped upright. Standing in your doorway, peering through the curtain was Liu Kang. He seemed surprised.

“Did I wake you?” He stepped inside and closed the curtain behind him for privacy. How long had you slept? Crap.

“What time is it? Did I sleep through training?”

“No.” He laughed and it was a welcome and comforting sound. “It’s quite late but I was busy today and had no time until now. I wished to see you before bed.” He spoke of you with such fondness that if you hadn’t been half asleep then you probably would have blushed. You adjusted yourself and made room for him to sit next to you on the bed as you often had while reading. He joined you gratefully. You watched as he brushed his thumb over the prayer beads that often went from wrapped around his wrist to his palm and back again. “Tomorrow is going to be difficult, Y/N.”

You guessed that he would be the one training you. He was one of the only warriors with the marking that stayed in Raiden’s Temple besides Kung Lao that you knew of.

“Promise not to pull any punches, okay?”

“I knew you would say that.” He nudged your shoulder with his.

“I mean it, Liu. It’s been over two weeks since this happened. I’m ready to fight. If I’m going to survive all of this… otherworldly supernatural nonsense then I have no choice. Besides that… I want to do this. I want to fight.”

“I need you to promise to be safe.”

“That’s very sweet, Liu, but I’m a fighter. I’ve been fighting for years. I’m ready to help and more importantly, I’m ready to feel strong again. This thing with the poison and my arms? It’s taken a toll on me. I need to be okay.”

“I understand, I think.” He slipped the beads back around his wrist and caught a glimpse of the journal that you’d fallen asleep holding. Then he looked back toward the door. He was nervous. You could feel it.

“Are you okay, Liu?”

“I’m fine.” He picked up the journal and tapped the pages. “Would you like to study?”

“Can’t sleep, can you?”

“Oh, right. It’s late. I apologize. I woke you. I should let you rest.” He stood, bowed, and then turned to leave. Without thinking, you grabbed his hand. If your arms hadn’t been aching, you would have pulled him back to you. Liu Kang was very aware of the strain that it would put on you to pull so he stopped dead in his tracks. He was always aware of what was going on around him and your aching arms appreciated that more than ever.

“You can stay. We can keep reading. I’d like that.” You insisted. Liu Kang smiled and so you let go of his hand, realizing that you’d been holding it for perhaps too long. He grabbed a hefty book that had been resting beneath your side table. You’d made your way a quarter through it over the past few days. Then you sat together, leaning against the wall. He read to you and his soothing voice nearly lulled you back to sleep. It provided you with a sense of security you hadn’t felt in a long time. Studying with him, even in your worst moments of pain, had become a fond memory.

The words were familiar and so you snapped one eye open. “We already read this.” You waited for a pause in his natural cadence.

“No, we did not.”

“We did, look.” You pointed to your journal and the scribbles in it from the night before. Your handwriting really was terrible. You could make out bits and pieces of it. Liu had the patience of a saint for trying to decipher it. He squinted at the letters.

“I can’t read that. No one can read that, Y/N.” He tapped the page you had pointed to. “That could say almost anything. Are you bored with the history of the Wu Shi Academy?”

“No! We were just further along than this, that’s all. Look, just…” You shoved the journal in front of the book and he laughed. His laugh was sweet and filled with warmth. “I think that this is highlighting this passage here about the foundations and the energy wells beneath it…”

“You can’t possibly read that. We have established that it’s gibberish.”

“I wrote it! I can sort of make out little bits…”

“We have to work on your penmanship, Y/N.”

“I got all sliced up where the tendons and stuff are. They’re still healing!” You whined and then pouted. Liu took the journal and set it on the bed just beyond your feet. You reached past him and turned the pages of the book, searching for the next chapter. “At least get to the part with the arena. You promised that we would learn about that next. You went on and on about it.”

“I did no such thing. You can admit that you’re bored.” Liu teased. You flipped the pages again without his permission so he tried to tug the book away and you jolted to the side with him, hair falling into your face, chopsticks now useless. Much to your surprise, as you righted yourself, Liu helped you and pushed your messy hair away and tucked some of it behind your ear. Your laughter subsided and you avoided his eyes as his admired you. You swore your heart skipped a beat. “Your hair.” He brushed a few strands between his thumb and forefinger.

“Oh?” You dared to look into his dark eyes that were rivers of thought and emotion. You had no aspirations of unraveling them. You liked their mystery.

“The color.”

“Oh, yeah… I uh… I haven’t been able to keep up with dye here and it’s naturally white.” You pointed to the roots that had begun to show.

“White? That’s peculiar.”

“Wow, thanks. Yeah, I know it’s weird.”

“I didn’t mean any offense. It looks nice.” He seemed to realize that his hand was very much still in your hair. His tongue ran nervously over his lower lip while he was lost briefly in thought before he pulled his hand back. “We’ll read about the arena but only because you have chosen to entertain me at a late hour instead of turning me away.”

“And because you realized I was right.” You joked but your stomach was very much in knots. This was no time to be feeling butterflies in your stomach but there they were. Liu Kang made you feel butterflies. Literal butterflies. You hadn’t understood that idiom until now.

“There will be a test, Y/N.” He joked and smoothed out the pages of the book. You retrieved the journal and pen but had given up on writing notes for the night. Your arms were still aching and you were drained. Liu delighted in sharing a map of the ancient arena and reciting battles that he’d won and lost there. His voice was a soothing and familiar drone and before you realized it, you were falling asleep, head falling against his shoulder.

Instead of leaving you there to sleep, Liu Kang continued to read. Sometime later you woke up and the flame in the lantern had gone dim. Liu was still seated next to you, his head now rested atop yours. From his soft, slow breaths, you guessed that he had fallen asleep too. The book was rested neatly on top of your journal as if he had made the decision to put it aside and stay. You should wake him and send him back to his room. He would be more comfortable there. Selfishly, you wanted him to stay. He’d chosen to stay so you decided to let him have his choice.

For the first time since you’d woken up in Raiden’s Temple, you went to sleep feeling secure and comfortable.

Next Chapter >>

[eternalstann]

Still The One

Tom Holland x Reader

Request: Congrats on your 2,000 followers!!You deserve it! ❤️ Could I please request a Tom imagine? Maybe an angsty one where they break off their relationship of a few years after a few bad fights. So months go by and Tom is still a mess, his family still misses you so he decides to win you back but unbeknownst to him you have been seeing someone for the past couple of weeks. Who will Y/N choose?? It would mean so much but no worries if you have trouble writing this request, I would still be looking forward to your other writing. But major thanks in advance 😊😊

In the moment, Tom thought he’d done the right thing.

He loved you, and he knew you loved him but things weren’t like they were when you first met. You’d been arguing more and more often..it just felt like you weren’t on the same page.

Finally, both of you had just had enough.

“You know what, Y/N this isn’t working any more” Tom’s voice was quieter now; different from the screaming match the two of you were having just moments before. He feels the lump in his throat the second the words leave his mouth and he almost wants to take them back. But part of him knows neither of you could go on like this.

“I was thinking the same thing” you reply coldly, eyes staring back at him with zero emotion. You were numb, a piece of you breaking when his words washed over you. You turn your back to him, feeling the tears well.

Tom watched you in silence, as you grabbed your purse, walking out the door. And out of his life.

And that was it. Now here Tom was, almost five months later. Completely sure that losing you was the biggest mistake of his life. He lay in his bed, scrolling through pictures of the two you he couldn’t bring himself to delete. Watching videos and listening to your laugh. His heart ached in his chest, looking at the sparkle in his eyes that only you could bring. He just wanted to feel the same happiness he had with you again. He wanted you.

And it wasn’t enough for him to feel shitty about your break up, his friends and family refused to let you go. Or let him live it down.

You were the daughter Nikki never had, and Tom had been terrified to tell her. He remembers the look of shock and disappointment when she found out, not even from him. She’d texted you to meet for lunch and nearly dropped her phone when you politely told her you didn’t think it was appropriate since you and Tom had split up.

Tom remembers him and Harry almost getting into a literal fist fight when Harry called him an idiot for leaving you.

Even Zendaya and Jacob were pissed at him, refusing to choose between the two of you.

You had been a part of every single aspect of his life and now he felt an emptiness that he knew was from the loss of you.

Tom finally peeled himself from his bed, getting dressed to visit his parents and siblings for dinner.

Seeing them was a temporary distraction and he was happy he’d decided to come until about halfway through the meal.

“Hey Tom, can you take me to the mall tomorrow?” Paddy asks cheerfully and Tom takes another bite of his food before telling him no.

“Y/N would’ve taken me” Paddy grumbles and Sam kicks him under the table.

“Ouch! Well she would’ve! She was always nicer than you. I don’t know why she ever agreed to be your girlfriend in the first place” he exclaims, getting up from the table.

The rest of his family is stunned into silence at Paddy’s outburst.

“Well, in his defense...she probably would’ve taken him to the mall” Harry adds and Dom hushes the redhead.

“Tom, honey I’m so sorry. I don’t know where that came from. I’ll make him apologize” Nikki tried to console him but Tom assures her it’s fine. Because he knows where it came from.

You had become a part of the family. You’d helped Paddy with homework and made TikToks with him. You cooked with Sam. You laughed at his dads jokes. Hell you and Harry were pretty much best friends and he was positive the two of you still talked, much to his annoyance.

But he couldn’t be mad at his family, when he was already too mad at himself. This was his doing, and he needed to fix it. He still loved you, and this was his sign to get you back.

He mustered up all his courage and set his pride aside to text you; after begging Harry to give him your new number.

“Hey Y/N. It’s Tom. I know I’m probably the last person you want to hear from and you don’t owe me anything. But it would mean the world to me if we could just meet and talk some time. I hope you’re doing well. Xoxo”

He sends the text with an exhale, tossing his phone onto his bed. He doesn’t know why he thought you’d answer right away. It takes 3 days for him to get the message that you weren’t going to respond. And he couldn’t blame you. He’d been a dick the last few weeks of your relationship. But he couldn’t stop trying.

He prayed you lived in the same apartment. Buying your favorite flowers and meal, he was going to turn up at your door. Give you the gifts, and beg you to hear him out. If you didn’t, then he swore to himself he’d leave you alone forever.

Before he knew it he found himself standing outside your place.

—

You were sitting on the couch, laughing with Justin - your sort of friend but maybe more. The two of you had been enjoying a movie together; making ridiculous comments throughout.

You snort when he throws a piece of popcorn at your face and you attempt to catch it in your mouth, failing horribly.

“Nice try babe” he says sarcastically, tossing a piece into his own mouth. He stares at you, and you stare back.

“You look beautiful tonight, you always do” he compliments and your stomach flutters with butterflies.

“Thank you...” you whisper, scooting closer to him and he does the same. Your lips are only centimeters apart when you hear a knock on your door. You roll your eyes, of course.

“One second” you pat Justins leg before standing up to see who could possibly be at your door. You pull down the hoodie you were wearing and straighten out your hair a bit before yanking open your door.

You nearly pass out when you see who it is.

“Tom?!” you ask incredulously, absolutely not expecting to see him. You glance to Justin on your couch, then back to Tom in your doorway. Justin gave you butterflies. But Tom? He gave you the whole fucking zoo.

Your eyes scan over him, to someone who didn’t know him he looked good. Amazing even. He was even more built than the last time you’d seen him, and his hair had grown out. But you knew him. You noticed the bags under his eyes, and how oily his hair was. The slouch in his posture. You even noticed how chewed up his nails were. And then the flowers he held, and the take out bag of food from your favorite restaurant.

You try to ignore the way your heart throbs in your chest, and your brain is dreading where this was going.

It had taken you almost 3 months to be even remotely okay after you and Tom broke up. Finally going to the bar after your friends dragged you out. That’s when you met Justin, and had been seeing him ever since.

Now here Tom was, standing in front of you. And all you want to do is jump into his arms. But you hold it together, refusing to throw away all the time you spent trying to forget him. All the effort you’d put in with Justin. You couldn’t go back.

“Y/N...you look even more gorgeous than I remember” he says breathlessly and you shift awkwardly on your feet. “Thank you, you look nice too” you answer cooly.

Tom can’t take his eyes off you, studying every detail all over again. The way your hair fell around your pretty face, the way the hood of the sweater you were wearing sat perfectly on your neck....and then it hit him. You were wearing his pink hoodie.

“Is that my hoodie?” He asks dumbly and you didn’t even realize it either until he said it. You stammer for the right words to say when suddenly you feel an arm wrap around your waist.

“Everything okay babe?” Justin’s voice sounds, startling you from your Tom induced daze.

Tom stands up straighter at the sight of Justin next to you.

“Y/N can we please talk?” Tom asks and your eyes dart between the two men.

“Justin; can you give me a little bit? I’m so sorry I promise we’ll do something soon” you grab his hand and he gives you a small smile.

“No problem babe, I won’t be far. Call me if you need me” Justin answers sweetly pecking you on your lips before brushing past Tom.

You feel your whole body heat up, kissing another man in front of Tom... the person who a few short months ago you swore you’d marry and be with forever; it just felt wrong.

“Um, come in Tom” you gesture for him to enter, shutting the door behind him.

You feel tingly all over being alone with him and you wonder if not just slamming the door in his face was a mistake.

“What was that all about?” Tom asks and you know he’s talking about Justin. You roll your eyes, and just like that the shock of Tom being there is gone. You feel just like you did five months ago. On the verge of another argument with the brunette.

“He’s just a friend” you answer, sitting down on your couch. And Tom squints, “you kiss your friends on the lips now?”

You raise your eyebrows.

“Why are you here Tom?” You ask with a sigh and Tom takes a deep breath.

“I’m sorry- I’m sorry. I was just jealous” he admits and you cross your arms.

“You have no right to be jealous Tom. I’m single” you spit, remembering the worst night of your life and hearing him say those fateful words.

“I know; and that’s why I’m here” he responds, sitting next to you. “I brought these for you..” he raises the gifts in his hands before setting them on the coffee table.

“Thank you” you thank him curtly.

“I texted you...” Tom says slowly and you nod- “I saw”

When he texted you, you hoped he’d take the hint when you didn’t respond. Clearly you were wrong.

Tom sighs again before he starts talking.

“Y/N. Words cannot explain how sorry I am for how things ended between us. I’ve been up almost every night just wishing they were different. Wishing you were still mine....”

You stop him there.

You you already feel yourself ready to cry. Half of you had been dreaming about this moment, praying for it to happen. But the other half of you is stubborn.

“Tom you can’t do this. You broke up with me...and now you come back months later with some speech thinking I’m just going to take you back? You broke my heart. You wrecked me. I didn’t get out of bed for weeks after you. I cried until I ran out of tears. And you bring me flowers like that’s some sort of consolation for the pain you put me through?” You finish, voice wobbly by the time you make it to the end.

“Darling, I know no material thing could make up for the pain. Because trust me I felt it to. I still feel it. That’s why I’m here. But Y/N you’re my soulmate, I know that. I know that with every fiber of my being.” He pleads and you can’t stop the tears from falling now.

You’re so overwhelmed you don’t know what to do.

“I can’t do this Tom. I can’t, I’m sorry” you say, standing to walk away but he grabs you hand.

Tom holds your hand so tightly it almost hurts and your heart breaks when you see that he’s crying too. He drops to his knees in front of you.

“Baby if you don’t want to be with me, why’d you keep the pink hoodie? And I know about your secret brunch dates with my mum. Y/N part of you still wants this. Please, all I’m asking for is another chance” he begs and you throw your head back, a million thoughts running through your mind at once.

You know deep down that Tom is still the one. The love of your life. And you know that you’d NEVER forgive yourself if you didn’t try again with him.

You pull him to his feet, staring into his watery eyes.

“It can’t be like last time....” you whisper and Tom pulls you into a hug, squeezing you so tightly you can’t breathe.

“It won’t be darling, I promise” he whispers into your hair before pulling back to look at you again.

“I love you, Y/N” he mumbles, hands holding the sides of your face and you smile gently.

“I love you too, Tommy” you hum, and then he’s kissing you through your tears.

Like you were made for each other. And you were.

————

Ugh I almost feel like this isn’t angst enough but I tried, thank you so much for requesting!! I love you ❤️❤️❤️ THE 2K SLEEPOVER CELEBRATION IS STILL GOING ON!!

((Also does anyone know how to do the read more link from mobile pls and thanks😭))