#also it drives me insane that seri is the only one without collar

[33-001]

sigh...

#wip #reimob #my art #delete later #guess who can't get rid of the brainworms #guess who looked up omegaverse reimob on ao3 and was disappointed to not see a single bottom alpha mob #most are mobrei. some reimob. not a single with either of them a beta. afai can tell a single fic with reigen pretending to be alpha #tbh tho I don't even read omegaverse lol I can't stand mpreg #writing though......................... #also it drives me insane that seri is the only one without collar #whoever made these artworks most probably did NOT think of omegaverse but still #Seri the only alpha??? or has he been bonded??? #ngl there's already a subplot about toichiro having bonded with him to use him in my head #someone send help it's developing into a whole AU

[samwrights]

Pining After You pt. 6 [hc]

This request is brought to you by @90s-belladonna hope you enjoy bb!

Also, minor warning. Osamu gets a little dirty. I’m not sorry.

Y’all really just here for Pining, huh. I see how it is. If you want sad, mutual pining, and want to support my writing, you can check out my new mini-series called Elixir here

Ushijima;

His pining comes out in the form of aggression, this isn’t up for debate.

He doesn’t understand why the melodic lilt in your voice gives him the willies or how every time you glanced at him after class, his skin would crawl.

Or why it bothers him so fucking much when you make it a point to greet everybody in class but him

But only six more months and you both were done with high school, ready to begin the next chapter in your lives.

Ngl, he’s a little sad about that but, again, he doesn’t know why.

It frustrates him more when he genuinely can’t stop thinking about why he doesn’t understand why it bothers him, and he’ll end up spiking a ball so hard everyone swears he left a dent in the gym floor.

He knew he wasn’t the most approachable person, but for someone to deliberately ignore them made him want to pull his kneecaps out through his shins.

Ushiwaka’s a tad dramatic, he hides it very well though.

With the end of the year encroaching, he decides to actively focus on letting go these strange bitter thoughts he has about you. What was the point in him resenting you when he was never going to see you again?

When he masters this skill is when you finally say Hi to him. For the first time in three years, he was the last one you greeted in the classroom—everyone else noticed it too.

All of his hard work and practice and discipline was out the window now.

He tries to confront you during lunch, but you had retreated as quickly as you could to find your friends, succeeding in aggravating him more.

At the end of class, he calls your name in his typical, gruff voice, successfully stopping you before you could make your escape.

“Uh, hi, Ushijima.”

“This is now the second time in our three years of being in class together that you’ve ever said hi to me.”

“I-I’m sorry.” Sorry? For what?

“I’m confused.” You stood there, cowering in his gaze while looking at the speckles in the lineoleum flooring, the way there were rings of dirt around the legs of each desks—anything but looking at him.

“You, uh, looked like you were in a better mood today, so I finally felt like I could say hi to you...” He doesn’t ever recall you being bashful. So where did this new facet of your personality come from?

“Are you saying you felt that you couldn’t before?”

“Y-yeah? You always just looked like you hated me, so...” Unsure of what to do, Ushijima bows before asking if you would allow him to walk you to your locker before he attended practice. So formal.

As the two of you walk, he explains that he didn’t understand why you made him feel certain strange sensations that he was unfamiliar with feeling, things he’d only heard about in passing from others. They were foreign.

Most of all, he explains how ashamed he feels that the reason you never said hi was because of these underlying complexities of not understanding. Without words, all you could do was give him a shy hug, and hope he doesn’t throw you off of him. All he wanted to know was why

Why did he feel like a child being wrapped in his favorite blanket when you gave him a hug? Why did he feel remorse for inadvertently upsetting you to the point where you didn’t want to say hi to him? Why did he have the overwhelming urge to hug you even tighter?

To found out why, he had to just do it. So his burly arms pull you in close, swallowing your torso as he nearly lifted off the ground, soothing the irritation that had built up over the last three years.

Yahaba;

Oh, Yahaba. This dirty, shallow mfer.

You’d think he would grow out of his stupid antics when took over the team as captain, or you only hoped when you finally caved in to being the manager in your guys’ third year.

“Why do you want me to be the manager exactly? I know nothing about volleyball.”

“Our manager has to be hotter than Karasuno’s, duh!”

He always spewed some shit about how you were the most beautiful girl in the school, blah blah blah.

Was anything ever sincere coming from his mouth?

He found a new girl to obsess over every week not that you were jealous or anything.

It was just really tiresome trying to keep him on focusing being the captain. With you as the manager, you felt it was your duty to drag him by the collar to make sure his team was ready to go. Duty, not envy.

Despite finding a new “most beautiful girl in school”, Yahaba always came back to you.

Every chance he got, he amped up the charm 100 fold, just to try to get you to indulge him

No matter what, your response was a roll of your eyes and a shake of your head while you continued writing down notes.

Yahaba loves irritating you this way, thinking that your hard-to-get attitude was the sexiest thing. Loves it so much that it drives him to flirt with others more upon seeing the envious shade of emerald paint over your irises.

“Ya know, captain,” you drawled at practice while he was making salacious comments regarding a second-year he’d acidentally bumped into earlier. “If your flirting skills were a fraction as good as your volleyball skills, maybe you wouldn’t have to thirst over every bitch that doesn’t want you.”

Kindaichi is fucking rolling—you’d never called Yahaba out THAT bad before.

But homie isn’t phased. Nah, instead he just rests an elbow atop your forehead, disregarding the fact that y’all were literally in the middle of practice.

“Baby, the only one I’m thirsting over is you.”

“You literally just proved my point, I don’t want you either.” 💀💀 RIP

You’ve had enough of this shit and, with permission from the coaches, you pull Yahaba outside to give him a stern talking to.

“You need to knock it off and take this seriously, dude.”

“[name], I’ve been serious this entire time.”

“No you’re not! All you’re doing is bs flirting with every girl you see—“

“[name], I’m flirting with you. I only say stupid things because it makes you mad and you get all red and it’s fucking hot.”

For once, you hear the sincerity in his voice, yet you can’t help but retort with, “I still don’t like you.”

Osamu;

The dichotomy between Osamu’s two internal monologues contrasted more than day and night. They were the sun and a black hole.

But even more so in the fact that star giants eventually cave in on themselves, and become a black hole.

That was what you did to Miya Osamu.

You were profane and vulgar and your favorite past time was playing with the twins to see you could get a rise out of more. And you were good at it too.

While Atsumu really couldn’t give less of a shit about your teasing antics, mostly because he would easily dish it right back, it drove Osamu insane because you were giving his twin brother more attention.

You knew that it got under his skin, but that was all the more reason you did it. You wanted to see Osamu snap. And you wouldn’t stop trying until you succeeded.

The first time, you dropped your pencil on the floor, picking it up in front of the boys after ensuring your skirt was pulled up high enough that they had a prime showing of your underwear. “Oops sorry, ‘tsumu.” You’d tease after returning to your seat.

“No need to apologize, we know you’re a hoe by nature.”

The second time was at the beginning of class when you had a quiz. How you managed to unbutton nearly all the buttons on your uniform top just so that the edge of your bra peaked out, was beyond Osamu. Unfortunately for him, Atsumu sat in front of his twin and was able to see your cleavage that day.

“Looks like you could use a good fill in there.” Atsumu drawls, referring to said cleavage.

The final attempt is what causes Osamu to snap. Everyone is filtering out of the classroom, with you following behind his twin brother cracking jokes about how you’d dropped your pencil again in the middle of lab just so you could get a closer look at the natural bulge in his pants.

Osamu slams you up against a locker, red in the face and sweating profusely as he’s painted and doused with rage. “Why do you only ever fucking pay attention to my shithead brother?” He snarls, unable to look you directly in the eye.

A lopsided grin touches your lips as you unabashedly tilt his chin up to make him look at you. “Because I know it gets under your skin.”

It felt like gravity was being pulled through his chest—the sun giving way to its weight and collapsing in on itself. Giving into the black hole.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” His voice, while not lacking intensity, was now lacking in volume as it barely came above a whisper. “How is that funny?” He asks in response to your sudden bubble of laughter.

“This is everything better than I thought it would be.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Another laugh dances on your lips before you pull the grey haired twin to you, kissing him deeper than a black hole.

“Atsumu told me you get real mad sometimes, so I wanted to see it for myself. It’s even hotter than I dreamed of.”

“I’ll fucking show you angry.”

Wanna see a specific character? Or a different head cannon? Want to see a whole story?

Send in requests!

#haikyuu!! imagine #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu headcannons #haikyuu!! au #haikyuu!! headcannons #haikyuu took over my life #haikyuu!! #ushijima x reader #ushijima imagine #ushijima wakatoshi #ushiwaka x reader #haikyuu ushijima #hq ushijima #yahaba x reader #yahaba shigeru #haikyuu yahaba #hq yahaba #osamu x reader #haikyuu osamu #osamu miya #hq osamu

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

omg maybe she writes a song for cal before he leaves to go home? she produces it w her team and it’s more of a gift and she brings him in the studio to surprise him? but maybe she releases it and fans know it’s about cal but the two won’t admit it

Thanks for the suggestion! I combined it with @wonderlandiswhereitsatyo suggestions: 

Maybe they're facetiming snd one of them is cooking. They got too into the conversation and then the other is like "there's smoke behind you" and a tiny sexy surprise video chat. 

I hope you enjoy!

Here’s the masterlist for the Distance series. 

Here’s my main masterlist!

If you have any suggestions for this series, please feel free to send them to me. I will do my best to use as many as possible while also progressing the story along!

There is 18+ Content (Smut). Please read with caution. 

______________________________

Calum whines when the bed dips, her body rising and his arm falling into empty sheets. His nose misses being pressed into her shoulder and inhaling her scent. “Five more minutes,” he grumbles. 

“You’re the one that booked the red-eye flight.” Her voice is hoarse in his ears and he finally blinks up at her. Now, as he pushes up, he hears her alarm going off. His blaring along with it. How he missed the two of them going off, he’s not sure. He reaches for his phone, cutting it off and runs a hair over the cropped sides. A yawn pulls at his jaw and a slight moan falls over his throat. 

He hates leaving. As he sits in her bed, wrapped in her golden sheets, that somehow feel softer than his own sheets, he thinks about moving. If he lived here, or she lived in LA, things would be different. He wouldn’t think twice about this, wouldn’t think twice about what was happening between them. But every time he leaves, or she leaves, he is sourly reminded that this won’t be like his other relationships. This won’t be easy to ask her to spend the night, or to wake up early for dog walks, or going to get coffee. They’ll always have time zones and screens between at some point. 

He watches her, pulling open her closet door bottom half still bare besides her underwear. It feels so right just to hold her close. Without thinking too long about it, he pushes up from the bed and stands behind her. His arms encasing her waist and he buries his nose into her shoulder again. His lips leave butterfly kisses. “Leaving you always sucks,” he mutters. 

She finally settles on a sweatshirt and pulls the hanger down before hooking onto the knob on the inside of the door. Her nails scratch along his skin and it’s not even that cold in her house, but a shiver racks through his body. His bare chest pressed into her back. There are no platitudes, no words of reassurance that she can give him. Because it does suck. A lot. Though her leaving him sucked they hadn’t let those words fall. She turns his grasp, hands coming up around his cheek. “It does suck,” she agrees, pecking his lips. “I wish I could make it suck less.”

“Move to L.A. or somewhere closer,” Calum suggests, lips brushing against her as he talks. Their foreheads rest against each other. 

“My whole team is here and--,”

“I know, a last ditch effort,” he sighs, kissing her again. “Thought maybe in your half asleep state I could get you to slip up.”

Her body falls, shoulders rounding in and her hands fall. She tucks herself into his chest, fingers brushing along the tattoos along his collar bones. “I’d have to live in the mountains somewhere. I don’t do well with too many people.”

His laughter rumbles into her ears and Calum squeezes at her frame. “I’ll keep an eye out for anything.”

The sun is just barely rising behind the horizon when she pulls out of the parking lot of her complex. The windows are cracked a little, a breeze blows in, whistling around the otherwise silent car. Traffic isn’t bad on a Sunday morning this early. And the trees and hills roll by as they continue on the roads. It’s almost too scenic. He could see himself out here. Though she lives in a pretty quiet area, he figures it would be nice to always have a quiet place to retreat too. There wouldn’t be the blaring sounds and lights of the city constantly knocking at his door. 

When she pulls into the airport, Calum stretches across the middle console. He covers her cheeks in kisses, some more dramatic than others. She scrunches up on herself, attempting to cower away from the onslaught. Her giggle bounces around in Calum’s head. He can’t get enough. There will never be enough, it feels. But eventually, he has to pull away. He does have a flight to catch. “I’ll let you know when my flight lands.”

“And when you get home too?”

Calum nods. “Of course.” He climbs out of the vehicle, opening her backdoor to grab his duffle bag. She stretches around the seat. A black flash drive rests in her palm. “What’s this?”

“A gift. Don’t lose it now.” 

“I would never.”

“You can only listen once you’re on the plane though.”

“Listen?” She nods at Calum’s question. “You’re cruel.” He nods though to her stipulations.

“Oh, but you love it,” she grins.  

Slipping the flash drive into his pocket of the sweatshirt, he slings the duffle bag up onto his shoulder. He shuffles around, leaning in through the driver side window. And he just gazes, trying to remember the way her eyes sparkle in the rising sun and he can no longer see the lines on her face from how hard she slept. Her hands are soft as she drags her fingers over his and even plays at his rings. Something in the way the sunlight comes in from the windshield catches on her eyelashes makes his heart nearly stop. 

He tips her chin, kissing down her nose and then to her lips. “I’m pretty sure you’re going to be the death of me,” he whispers. And there’s so much honestly in the statement that it feels like weight off his chest. 

“But I won’t be the reason why you’re late for your flight,” she laughs, kissing him one last time. “Now, go!”

Calum laughs. “Okay, okay, okay.” He pushes away from the car, turns on his heel and then turns back around to the car. “Just one more kiss?” It’s with a laugh that their lips meet for one last brief kiss. Calum jogs to the front doors and to security. 

As the plane ascends, Calum runs this thumb over the flash drive. There’s the safety spill and he watches for the seatbelt light to go out. When they finally reach their cruising altitude, he pulls out his laptop. He almost forgot it was in his bags. Between being with her in the studio in the day and their drives at night, he hadn’t gotten much of his own work done. Now though, maybe he could get something done. Just a few emails read over.

He slips the drive into the port, watching it pop up on his desktop. It’s only with a few clicks that he opens it, finds the folder. For you, Calum, enjoy.  Slipping the headphones on, he opens it and there’s an mp3. His heart races and his finger shakes, but he watches the song load. At first, it’s a throaty creak of the piano and soon her voice follows with a soft and breathy first line, Brown irises and black tattoos. His heart skips a beat, maybe two or even three, but he lets his eyes close and listens to her singing to him, about him, about the way her heart flutters too. 

_____________________

“I’m gonna puke,” she groans. “God, what if no one likes it? What if I’m just like a one-hit wonder?” Calum pauses at his stir fry for just a moment. In three minutes, her debut album will be released. She was out with her team but her nerves were just too much. So she ducked out early, messaging Calum throughout the entire ride back up and now, she’s here. On her couch. With only two shots in her. Her dog besides her and Calum, even though it’s a screen. The eternity of the last 20 minutes have been rushing to the bathroom to stress pee early every three minutes and hovering over her trash can with nerves. 

“Lay back,” he directs, motioning to her couch just behind her. “Just lay back, close your eyes, okay?” She nods, moving so that her laptop is a little closer to her ear. “Comfy?” Calum asks. He leans onto his forearms, against the countertop, in front of his own computer. 

“Yeah, comfy.”

“Good. Now inhale for three seconds and exhale for five.” Calum can see the inhale and exhale, the rise and fall of her chest. For a fleeting moment, he wishes he could rest his head there, right in the space between her breasts and help her breathe through the nerves. “Again for me.” She inhales and exhales again. “One more time. This time in for four seconds, out for six.” Her breathing crackles in through the speakers. “Everything’s gonna be fine. I promise.”

The rumble of his voice sends a shiver down her spine. She misses being curled up in his chest in her bed. They laughed about nothing, about everything, it seemed. A stupid voice, a meme that sent them both into a fit of giggles. It didn’t matter because Calum was right there with her. He was laughing along with her. “People are gonna hear your angelic voice and they are to fall in love and you’re gonna be a superstar.”

She presses her thighs together, attempting to quell heat that starts in her lower gut. Now is not the time, she figures. “I guess.” It comes out breathy. It’s going to give her away. But there’s not much now to cover it up. 

“I know that tone,” Calum teases. He takes just a second to tend to his food, so nothing burns. But he turns back to her quickly. His gut quivers just a little too. They got hot a few times at her place, hands wandering under shirts, mouths peppering skin with kisses that got lower and lower. But they always pulled back. Calum wasn’t sure if having sex with her would be the right move. Would it make things insanely more complicated than they already were? What if this didn’t work out as a relationship?

“No, you don’t know anything!” she laughs. 

“Yes I do!” She’s still laying on her back, but her thighs brush over the other, as if that will ease whatever ache has developed. “Clearly you like something. I’m just here to help. Let me help,” he adds the last sentence in a slightly lower tone.  

She whines, not sure if she should give into temptation right now. Glancing at the clock, it’s past midnight. “It’s out,” she whispers. “My album is out, holy shit.” When she glances back to the screen, she giggles. “Cal, you might have to order out.”

When he spins around, there’s a little bit of smoke and he swears, turning up the overhead vent. It’s salvageable, for sure. But definitely not his smoothest moment ever. With the smoke finally cleared and the rice scrapped, Calum drops his head to his forearms. “It’s because of you,” he teases. It’s because he wants to see her unravel. He wants to hear her cry out for him. God, he wants it so badly, his toes are curling in his socks. He knows for now he can’t really stand all the way, it’ll give everything away. 

“Cal, you really should get something to eat, baby.”

His head snaps up. “What did you call me?” 

“You can call me baby and buttercup, but I can’t use it.”

“No, no, no,” he rushes out. “You can. I just.” He swallows thickly. “I like it.”

With a tiny smirk, she laughs. “I would bet money you’re hard right now.”

“You wouldn’t have to bet a lot,” he laughs, hoping now isn’t too obvious if he reaches down to adjust himself. It probably will be. But he really can’t be standing like this in the middle of his kitchen. 

“I should probably let you eat. Thanks, Calum.”

“Hey, whoa, why are you in such a rush to get rid of me now?” She doesn’t say anything, a not entirely unusual quietness overtaking her. But he can tell something is definitely off. Trashing the not fully burnt food, Calum dumps the dishes into the sink, hollering to his roommate that he’ll clean it up in a few minutes. His shuffle to his room doesn’t take long. She can hear the click of Duke’s paws traveling behind him too.

“What’s wrong? Talk to me.” Calum’s closes the door softly behind him. 

“Nothing’s wrong.” There’s a pause as she sees her phone blinking with text messages pouring in. “We’ve just--we’ve never gone that far. And I never wanted to push you if you didn’t want to go that far.”

Calum collapses into the mattress, laptop sliding onto the bed next to him. “It’s not that I don’t want to. I just don’t want to make this more complicated.” He sits up, bringing the computer back to his lap. “I don’t wanna fuck this up with you. Normally, it’s not this hard to weigh sex. But the long distance makes things different? Not necessarily difficult, but different. Sex is like part of the package, but what does that look like for us and like is there an us? I feel like there is.”

“There is an us,” she agrees. “Definitely an us.”

“I like the sound of that.” His grin splits his cheeks and he really thinks he shouldn’t this giddy. But fuck, his body does feel electric. “I really like the sound of that.”

She laughs, her own picture shaking just a little and soon, she’s barely illuminated by the brightness of her screen. It takes a moment and then the bedside lamp flicks on. “Are you familiar with JOI?” She watches as his brows furrow for a second, pondering the question. 

“Not that I know of?”

“Jerk off instructions.”

“Oh, I’m familiar with that.�� It falls off his lips a little too eagerly, with a little too much of his own breath escaping him. A knock at Calum’s door sends his heart racing and through the door, his roommate shouts about ordering a pizza, to which Calum agrees to send him the money back. “Takes half an hour, minimum,” Calum tells her, wearing a much too wide grin. “It’s not too late for you, right? If it is, there’s always another time.”

Even though tomorrow she knows she has work to do, she shakes her head. “It’s not too late. And you’re wearing one too many sweatshirts, and if there’s a shirt under that, that should go too.”

Without hesitation, Calum pulls the sweatshirt and tank up and over his head. It rouses his hair and he straights it back out before he directs her to trace around her nipple. Under the shirt. It’s more than obvious that she’s wearing no bra either. “I know you like love bites, and I really wish I could decorate your chest in them right now,” she breathes. “But I just want you to sit back. Just for a second. Close your eyes. Envision my hands and nails racking down her chest.”

Calum falls into his pillows, allowing her voice to float over him and sink into his brain. “You’re not wearing a shirt though, in this version.” Her laughter is soft and he cracks just one eye to see her tossing the pink camisole somewhere behind the camera. “Fuck,” he sighs at the sight of her erect nipples. 

“Your eyes are not closed, mister.”

“Squeeze them for me, please. And then I will.” She complies, leaning in a hair closer to the camera too and Calum groans, but drops his head into the stacked pillows. “You’re a tease,” he says. 

“Oh, don’t say that,” she laughs. “You’ll only make this worse for yourself.” 

It doesn’t take long for them to instruct each other to remove pants and then underwear. Both with hands dragging over their bodies, desperately wishing it was actually the other. Her sighs feed into his ears and crawl down into his chest. He echoes with his own, watching her fingers dance around her sex. Her hips rise and it’s obvious she’s trying hard to follow his instruction, trying not to touch herself. 

He’s on minute four of a five minute time out, for calling her a tease one too many times and is forced to sit on his hands and just watch her. And his cock is practically a leaky faucet at this point. In the end, it’ll be worth it. But right now, he just wants to give in. He’s not sure how much longer he can hold out. If he’ll make it the full five minutes. “Do you like them sloppy? Blow jobs, I mean?”

His head is so foggy, watching just how much she appears to be dripping onto her towel. She grabbed one just in case and the mere thought of her gushing as Calum’s head all sorts of twisted. “Uh,” he starts, working his jaw again. It hurts from how hard he’s clenching it. “I guess so. There’s, fuck,” he groans watching her hips raise again, wishing his tongue was buried inside of her. “Please tell me five minutes is up.”

“You haven’t-haven’t answered my question.”

He drops his head again, eyes fluttering close. He’s going to lose all feeling his hands at this point. “To an extent, yeah. It’s hot when they’re really into it.” 

She’s seeing stars, and she hasn’t properly touched herself but once. She lost that privilege for five minutes as well when she joked that her toys had gotten her off faster. But she won’t lie. She likes the back and forth, the small punishments. Though she thinks, it might be torturing Calum more than it is her. She makes a mental note and then sighs. “You’ve been really good. I wonder if you’ll have that much restraint in person.”

Calum doesn’t fall far it. He watches, to see how far she’ll go, if she’ll actually touch herself without his permission. But she doesn’t either. “I know what you’re doing,” he laughs. 

“Because you’re doing it too.” His cock jumps just a little, his stomach tensing and untensing. He looks like he’s about to explode. “Do you like plugs? A little backdoor play?”

“You’re dancing real close to a fire there,” he warns, the tips of her fingers are hovering over her clit. “I didn’t say you could.”

“Damn you,” she growls, moving her hands back to her tits, kneading and pulling at them. Is he waiting for her to break first? Is she going to break? She needs something, anything and if she’s this close to cracking she knows Calum’s even worse. 

“Just the head, really work your precum over it.”

The groan that leaves Calum’s chest is long, and louder than he really wanted it to be. But god it feels so good to touch himself. At the moment, as he works just the tip, he doesn’t worry about having to explain anything to anyone. “Play with your clit. Ah, fuck. Circles, okay?”

She hums, body reeling at the new found sensation. “Fuck,” she cries out. “I like it when you squeeze my ass. And if you were here right now, god, I don’t think I’d get off.” She pants for just a second, before she lets Calum fully stroke himself. 

“So you on top, huh?” 

“What? Don’t like the woman taking charge?”

“Never, no. I love it. You taking what you need from me. God, I think my heart would stop, watching you. Tits bouncing.”

She clenches and it aches that it’s around nothing. Calum would be such a delicious stretch. He’d fill her in ways she probably didn’t know existed. He’d be so firm beneath her palms. Chest solid and warm as she braced herself. God, why hadn’t do made a more serious move when he was here with her? When this could all be a reality and not through a screen. The twinge of regret doesn’t last long when her lower gut continues to tighten. She can feel the small prickles of sweat on her forehead starting to run down her skin. “Oh, fuck. Cal.”

His ears perk up at the growl of his name from her lips. It’s hard, when his eyes blink open to get her in focus. His own body is on the edge, his own pleasure is ramping up to knock him over. But he manages, between the blinks to watch her fall apart. The grunt falling over her lips and the way her teeth clash together just for a moment, the skin around her brows folding for just a moment before they smooth back out and the waves rock her core. No gush. But it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter in the slightest. 

He’s not going to last much longer. Not after that beautiful sight and his heels dig into the mattress a little, hips stuttering up into his own palm. And soon the streams are spilling over his hand and up onto his stomach and chest. His vision is a little spotty just for a second as he tries to catch his breath. He doesn’t even have half a mind to know if he made too much noise or not. That is until she giggles. “Did you cum or start benching presses over there? Either way, very hot.”

“I don’t know if I should be embarrassed or not.” He’s thankful that he kept the box of tissues next to his bed from his sneezing fit the other day. Though he didn’t usually suffer from any sort of allergy something got to him yesterday at some point. 

There’s a shuffle to clean themselves up and Calum waits, finished first, until she comes back to the screen. It’s clear to see she’s tired. She slide between her sheets, not bothering with clothes again and her head immediately falls into the pillows. “Don’t forget the light, buttercup, he warns softly. She grumbles but turns it off. “Sweet dreams,” he continues. “I’m gonna stream your album on repeat when it releases for me here. You’re gonna wake up to a bunch of positive reactions. And maybe 85% of them are from me, but that’s besides the point.”

Her laughter is soft, partially muffled by her pillow. “Thanks, Calum.”

“Anytime, buttercup. Anytime.” Their call ends and Calum leaves his computer on the bed. He pads into the kitchen and notices a box of pizza still out and the dishes done. And his phone is still on the kitchen counter. 

“The pizza came like twenty minutes ago. But that wasn’t something I wanted to interrupt,” his roommate laughs, walking back towards the bedrooms. “You’ve got kitchen duty for the next two weeks.”

“That’s fair. Thanks!” As he settles down at the table with the first three slices warmed, he scrolls through his phone. A message buzzes in and he just catches the preview before it disappears. 

I know I should be asleep right now. But I got caught up looking at reactions. It’s a screenshot of some tweets. A string of emojis and keyboard smashes comprise most of them. A couple fans of sniffed out which song is about Calum, but overwhelming the reactions are positive. 

I told you so.

Oh wipe that smirk off your face, I know it’s there! Calum can only laugh in response. 

#calum hood #calum hood smut #calum hood imagine #calum hood fic #calum hood fanfic #calum hood blurb #calum 5sos #h writes #calum hood x famous singer #distance series #5sos #5sos fanfic #5sos fic #5sos imagine #5sos smut #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer fanfic #5 seconds of summer fic #5 seconds of summer imagine #5 seconds of summer smut #ashton irwin #luke hemmings #michael clifford

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Fix Me (doctor/soulmate AU) {1}

Summary: She never liked the concept of soulmates, hoping to escape the ‘curse’, but Ethan had spent all his life searching for her. Will he be the one to fix her and show her soulmates are a blessing?

Warnings: angst, fluff, smuttish, swearing, drinking, death

Word count: 10.4k

A/N - heavily inspired by Grey’s anatomy, my own experiences and thoughts, but also by songs: Birdy - Not about angels, Bear’s den - Fortress, Matthew and the atlas - Out of the darkness, Harry Styles - Falling, Kodaline - Wherever you are. 

I really hope you guys like it! Feedback is always wanted and appreciated, no matter how small or big it is!

Fix Me (doctor/soulmate AU) series Masterlist

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Koi no yokan (Japanese, noun) – premonition of love, a sense you will meet your soulmate, that the first time you meet someone you will fall in love.

Ethan hadn’t always felt her, a void growing inside him instead of love he saw around. Sure, not everyone finds their soulmate, some don’t even want to…at least not right away, but Ethan wasn’t one of them. Ethan craved the kind of love he saw bloom between his parents – the all-consuming, deep, passionate, do-anything-for-you kind of love. But he was left feeling alone for nearly a hundred years of his existence, beginning to fear an anomaly had occurred and he just didn’t qualify for a soulmate. Seeing his brother is without a soulmate made it selfishly easier as Ethan feared nothing as much as he feared loneliness, but at the end of the day, Ethan and Grayson would both be happy for the other if they found the one. Grayson did feel his soulmate. Grayson knew his other half was out there, yet he didn’t search for her at all. He wanted more time, more youth and more adventure. He was what Ethan considered an abuser of the connection, but he never pushed his brother to change his ways.

It was hard to navigate the world, this life, alone, much harder when you’re looking for your soulmate. Not growing a day over twenty is helpful, allowing you time to search the whole world if necessary, but people are wicked, using everything, even love, to their selfish desires. Most people don’t want to find their soulmate until they’re tired of living. Following your instincts should lead you to your other half, but these people do the opposite to essentially live forever if they please. However, when they meet the one, they’ll know by a single lock of silver hair that appears instantly, making sure the pair knows they found each other, giving them the luxury of growing old together and having children since it’s impossible to conceive with someone else. But it’s more than that – it’s a longing, an indescribable need to be with them, to feel complete, utterly happy even when they drive you crazy.

Ethan felt his instincts calling for him to go out that particular night, dragging him over to a bar he despised, but he didn’t fight the feeling. Since he felt he wasn’t alone twenty-four years ago, Ethan had followed every instinct he had to find her, him, them? But this feeling? This was koi no yokan – a sense that he is meant to meet someone he would surely fall in love with.

‘This must be her’, he thought as he showered and made sure to apply his perfume and cologne generously. The thought of smelling bad in the moment when he meets his soulmate made him grimace. If there’s anything he appreciated, it’s people with good hygiene and he wondered if she was a slob or immaculate like he is. If she were a slob, he already foresaw all the arguments they would have over the years, but he’d learn to love her flaw, just as he will love her. Even if it was something he would struggle with, Ethan appreciated flaws – they made people interesting.

While he was already moving toward the bar, a certain someone had been sitting alone, her blood turning to alcohol as she tried to drown out the noise. She was meant to celebrate, to be over the moon over the joyous news she received, but she couldn’t. In the past twenty-four years of her life, Y/N had seen more misery and pain than most people who evaded death and lived for centuries by running from their soulmate. She had been burned by life, her heart stomped on and she wasn’t in a mood to celebrate – not when she had no one to share her news with – not when she was all alone.

Not only did she never care much about her possible soulmate, but she was quite certain he didn’t want to find her either. She had seen the bad sides of what a soulmate kind of love brings, the bad and the ugly, and ever since, Y/N had hoped to avoid meeting the one. Sometimes, a soulmate kind of love means misery, toxicity and that scares her to death.

So, despite the indescribable butterflies in her stomach, Y/N downed a shot before deciding to slow down – she had all night to get drunk off her ass and find a guy to take her virginity. Most people who wanted to find their soulmate would wait, seeing sex with someone else as a betrayal and while she felt guilty even thinking about it, Y/N wanted to make sure her soulmate would walk away from her even if she stumbled upon them. She promised herself to go through with it only if she truly connects with someone, preferably a guy, and only if he makes an impression.

Little did she know that the next time she ordered a drink, her soulmate would pick up the tab.

Philophobia (from Greek "φιλέω-φιλώ" (love) and "φοβία" (phobia)) – fear of falling in love or emotional attachment

When she woke with an undeniable urge to pee, Y/N was annoyed to say the least. She turned to her side to see the handsome stranger she went home with that night, the man she deemed worthy of her virginity and the beginning of her new and improved life.

Unlike the romance movies, they didn’t wake up tangled in each other with gentle sunlight giving off warmth, a certain kind of feeling most don’t get when they have a one night stand.

No, this was real.

Y/N had woken up with her back to his, faintly feeling it rise with every breath taken, drawn to him - only now stealing a sneak peek of his crown tattoo that settled between his shoulder blades. It looked glorious on him, a true king in their bed and she didn’t mind going down on her knees for him either. He certainly earned it. The angel numbers just above had sparked her interest too, but she wasn’t quite as keen on talking once the clothes started disappearing the night before and she certainly didn’t want to stick around and have a chat now when she too needed to disappear. He seemed like a nice man, someone she might actually like and strangely enough, she truly did want to stay and see his gaze upon her once more as he did the previous night – almost as if he were mapping out her entire body to serve his memory.

His lips moved softly against hers and she hummed, relaxing into him as their torsos pressed together, his hands tight on Y/N’s waist and her back pressed against the wall behind them, his soft pants filling her ears. She didn’t know one night stands are supposed to be this gentle, this warm and comforting. It’s as if he could sense the fear running through her veins at the thought of losing her virginity and the soulmate she never wanted to have. It’s as if Grant knew she needed to take it slow and that’s why he’s holding back, caressing her with every touch instead of roughly squeezing her.

“This good”, he managed to murmur against her lips, barely holding onto the last thread of sanity he has left ever since she slammed her lips against his in the bar. And while she tasted like tequila and cheap wine, he savored the feeling.

“Perfect.”  With that, Ethan pushed her back against the wall further. His hands trailing down to squeeze her thighs, the small growls he made as he nipped at the skin of her collar bone almost like a predatory warning that she’ll be claimed as his, and she didn’t mind it one bit. Not when her heart was driving her insane with the longing to hold this man closer and her body only yearned to be one with him.

The wall was pulled away from her back swiftly, his hands placed for support as he rushed toward his bedroom and she couldn’t help a small squeal from escaping her as he stumbled straight onto the bed and she was sat across his lap, legs on either side of his, her body instinctively grinding down. A rewarding moan welcomed her for listening to her instincts, repeating the torturous move as his eyes rolled back in pleasure.

“Oh, God! How are you so good at teasing me?!” Ethan exclaimed, watching her through his eyelashes, his eyes hooded until he saw her hook her fingers under her shirt, pulling it off in a single move before she quickly covered him with her body.

“Why so surprised? Not quite up to the task? Are you Grant?” As her lips found his neck, Ethan didn’t really care much about anything, flipping them over with a chuckle. Looking at her pouty expression only set him alight, allowing him to truly indulge in his craving for her flesh.

“We’ll see about that when days later you still feel me inside you, on top of you, all around you.”

It was so easy to get lost in the memory only hours old, but Y/N’s beautiful moment was cut short as she truly saw the reason why she needed to disappear, because that’s when she saw it - a streak of silver hair at the back of his head, previously hidden but clearly visible now. She couldn’t help the eye-roll as she laid on her back and turned her head away from him.

‘He has a soulmate’, she thought. ‘He has or had someone he loves, the one no one would compare to.’

She felt like just a fun, but forgettable night for him and while it dented her pride and dimmed the light she felt him wake within, Y/N reminded herself he was supposed to be just a one night stand anyway. He was never supposed to be hers. And no matter how badly she wanted to regret the previous night, she simply didn’t have it in her – not when a single look in his eyes had made her see galaxies.

But he was dangerous for her heart and staying any longer would be a mistake.

She sat up, careful not to make too much noise as the bed creaked lightly under her shifting weight. He didn’t even stir, not even a little. She felt grateful he was the kind to sleep like the dead, especially because she needed to both pee and get the hell out before he wakes up. He’s far too charming and she feared she might fall under his spell once more which would lead to a repeat of last night. It’s not the sex itself she fears, in fact, she’d love a repeat of that, but with sex come feelings and with feelings comes pain and she decided she had enough of pain to last her a lifetime…and that life might be really fucking long for her to just turn a blind eye to a future regret. She had seen what soulmate connections do to people and she swore never to suffer from the condition, even if she was doomed to walk the earth for however long it takes for her illness to return and ravage her body… Even if he would be a good distraction from her darkness.

So, she stands up, so slowly, so carefully she nearly chuckled in disbelief at her own stealthy movements, especially when she’s far from graceful.

She located her dress quickly, her shoes by the door, but her bra and panties? Those seemed to have vanished. Vaguely remembering how he ripped her black, lacy panties with his teeth, Y/N smirked before shaking her head. He can keep a small token, a reminder of her and the night they spent together.

Deciding to leave it all behind, she snuck to the bathroom and contemplated what she’d do if he woke up and asked her to stay. Sitting on the toilet of a man she didn’t even know by his first name, only the middle one, Y/N knew she needed to let this one go. But even with the constant reminder of what she had to do, she couldn’t understand why every part of her wanted to stay so badly. Grant had lived a lifetime and he clearly found the one, but she wasn’t her and that was something she found both relieving and yet oddly saddening.

At least she could leave peacefully, knowing he isn’t her one. And while her palms turned wet just at the thought of staying for breakfast, her heart was ready to jump out of her rib cage. Fully determined and with an empty bladder, she decided Grant wasn’t worthy of an unnecessary panic attack.

Not even looking at her reflection, Y/N sighed deeply and left the bathroom, walking on her tiptoes until she found herself outside his door looking ahead at the quiet street bathing in the just rising sun. The breeze had made her shiver, but that’s not why she felt cold. If she was being completely honest, the cold started when she left Grant alone in the bed. The cold began when she walked away from him, yet she found herself walking faster and further away, whispering to herself:

“Soulmates are for fools, anyway.”

Athazagoraphobia (n.) – the fear of being forgotten, ignored, or replaced.

As the coldness of the bed licked at Ethan’s skin, he couldn’t help but crack an eye open to see where his soulmate has gone. She had made the night unforgettable, but he planned on making the morning much better. He wanted to make her breakfast, something simple yet meaningful for years to come. He wanted to kiss up and down her arm before tucking his head in the crook of her neck, losing himself in the high pitched squeal giggle she’d likely make once he blows a raspberry into her soft skin. He wanted it all, the giggles, the kind gestures, gentle kisses, romantic whispers, dirty looks, and naughty smirks, but also the arguments, silence treatments, the glares, the death stares, pouting, apologizing, rough make-up sex, her virtues, and flaws – all of it. He wanted to know about every scar, every imperfection, every detail she thought he ignored or simply failed to notice.

But she wasn’t there.

Eyes wide open at the realization, Ethan sat up quickly, his heart in his throat as he looked around wildly, finding no trace of her or her clothes. In frustration, Ethan ripped the duvet from his body, tossing it to the ground as he let out a scream that died down almost immediately.

Ethan wanted to scream, to cry, to break things. He wanted to let out the pressure building up inside his chest, yet somewhere deeper than the human flesh - the immense pain deep inside his soul that had left him damaged, shattered like a glass window in the wake of her abandonment. His soulmate was supposed to be beside him as he wakes up. He was supposed to wake up first and have a chance to study her, to fully see all the little marks life left on her skin, the beauty in all she is. He had waited for so long, been patient even when most would have lost it, but he knew she was worth the wait. And when he finally has her…had her, he lost her.

Ethan wondered if she even saw the silver streak in her hair or his, and if she did, did she deem him unworthy of a soulmate? Did she hate him that much that she couldn’t even stay and tell him she doesn’t want him herself? Why would she dispose of him like trash after the night they had? After he poured all his love in every single touch of his lips against her skin. How was he supposed to live knowing what she feels like when she’s coming undone under him? When he knows the tender look in her eyes after he had finished and collapsed on top of her? When he felt the longing brushes of her fingertips at the back of his neck just as strongly as he felt her pull him closer to her when he was inside her?

Falling to his knees, Ethan had let his eyes fall back onto the mattress, watching the emptiness that settled instead of her. But then he saw it. Scrambling to his feet, he pulled himself up to the bed, right in the middle where he saw the mark - dry blood; a blood stain - a stark contrast to his white sheets.

He closed his eyes, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he swallowed thickly, praying it isn’t what he thinks.

‘Was she a virgin?’

“Fuck”, Ethan cursed under his breath, realizing he stole her virginity and while he was gentle, savoring each and every moment, he didn’t realize it in the heat of the moment. The initial feelings of fear she exhibited made much more sense now. And yes, he was happy he got to take her virginity instead of some asshole who wouldn’t give a shit about how she feels. But what if she wanted an asshole instead of him?

‘Did I hurt her?’

‘Does she hate me?’

‘Have I pushed her away?’

But out of all of those agonizing thoughts mixing with the memories from last night, Ethan mostly wondered how he’d find her again.

He didn’t really know if she had chosen him because she knew they were soulmates or because she didn’t and she didn’t even consider waiting to save her virginity until she meets him. He didn’t know if she was always meant to leave, if she was looking for a stranger or him. One thing he did know and it’s that he fucked up by not telling her they were meant to be the moment he saw her hair turn silver before his eyes. Sliding back onto the ground, clutching the sheet, Ethan chuckled dryly as his eyes found the torn up lace of her black panties and her bra only a few inches away.

At least he had something left of her, not just the ghost of what he lost.

Ethan knew from the moment he entered the bar that she was the one by the way his heart flipped inside his chest by the mere look at her hunched figure from the back. It didn’t take long for him to turn into a shaky mess, taking out his phone to take a photo of his head from all possible angles before he finally found what he looked for. It was a silver lock, hidden at the back of his head and once he realized he was right, he all but ran toward her.

Reminding himself to reel it in, he cleared his throat and spoke up.

“I’ll pay for the lady’s drink.” She turned to look at him with caution, not even hiding her wandering gaze as she looked him up and down. Kinking an eyebrow, she smirked, seemingly satisfied before she nodded at him in gratitude.

While she was busy checking him out, Ethan admired the way a lock of her hair had changed silver before his eyes – not quite as hidden as his, standing out as it was right at the midline where she parts her hair. It was all the confirmation he needed, his lips twitching before spreading into a wide smile, deciding to ease her into the soulmate talk. She seemed like she needed a shoulder to lean on, someone to be there for her, and he would be the one. Once he found her in the right mood, he’d tell her the undeniable fact. He’d tell her he had been searching for her his whole life, a hundred and twenty-four years to be exact, that he is the happiest when she tilts her head up to look at him with the curious glint in her lovely eyes.

“So? What could have possibly put a frown on such a beautiful face?” Ethan leaned on the bar, hoping to catch her gaze whenever she turned her head away from him, bolder with his approach since she accepted his drink and all but undressed him with her eyes.

“No, no, no. We’re not doing that.” She set her drink back on the bar, turning to Ethan before leaning her elbow on the bar, allowing her body to turn toward the hunk instead of away from him. Crossing her legs, she let a light smile soften her face as her eyes got lost in the hazel swirls of the stranger before her.

‘He has the most intense eyes, the kind that captivate a person, like dark hooks for a soul.’

“Doing what? Getting to know each other? Sharing our stories?” Ethan chuckled at her, almost desperate for her soft smile to turn brighter and wider, to see she’s just as happy to have him near as he is to have her. Ethan felt like a giddy child, wanting her attention only for himself and every bit she gave only awakened a need for more, immensely more.

“Exactly! I’m just a girl, no story.” She took the drink in her hand, slowly bringing the brim to her red lips before taking a small sip, never once breaking eye contact – his eyes had served like magnets, drawing her to him, keeping her glued to the gentle, yet intimidating flare they held. She’d call it magic if she believed in such a thing, but she felt an undeniable attraction toward this mysterious man, much more than she ever felt for anyone.

“And I’m supposed to be just some guy without a story too? Because I’m not. My story brought me here, to this bar on this particular night and seated me right next to you.” Ethan leaned closer, not too much in fear of scaring her, but enough to get his point across. He wanted to know her and while he appreciated her being careful with strangers, he needed her to trust him.

“How about this? If you’re so keen on it, you can tell me your middle name and maybe age? I want to know if you’re old like a vampire.” Her heart skipped a beat as she watched him chuckle, a perfect melody even if he sounded like he choked on his saliva for a moment there. But then he raised his eyebrow and his lips curled into a smirk, one that sent chills down her spine and she couldn’t deny how effortlessly sexy he is. Truly sexy, from the expressions of his face to the way he dressed, from the way he runs his hand through his hair to the way he smells. He felt like a trap meant to lure her in and she didn’t want to fight it. She knew he’d be taking her home that night – she had made her choice.

“Oh, I’m not nearly as old as the vampires, but I do have more than a few decades behind me…And it’s Grant. My middle name is Grant.”

She never gave him her name, Ethan realized and it made the whole situation that much worse. How can one find a single person in the city populated with millions of people?

“I found you once and I will find you again. I have to.”

Cingulomania - a strong desire to hold a person in your arms

People say time moves quickly, passing us by as if we’re all running through life and the trees are a blur we no longer see. Time might move quickly for them, but Ethan found himself on the other side of time where each tick of the clock is achingly slow, dragging on for eternity in his lonesome days. Ever since she left, he has been drowning, unable to breathe properly. His breaths are shallow and fast, draining his strength, never full and never satisfying. It’s as if he’s alive but he’s not living.

Ethan tried to find her, using every method he could. Hell, he even sent a plea to the FBI to find footage of surrounding cameras of places he passed with her on the way home, hoping to scan her face and use their database. He never heard back from them, naturally. But Ethan is desperate, has been for a while and he had to try even when he knew he’d fail. So many people spend hundreds of years looking for the one and he found her in his first century, yet he lost her all the same. And now he didn’t have the luxury of time to spend another hundred years looking for her. Not if he didn’t plan on dying alone.

To have had your soulmate in your arms and to have lost them? There are no words, no possible way to describe what that does to your soul. Ethan lived with a constant need to hold her again, to feel her heart beating in the darkness of his room, to listen to her soft breathing as he laid beside her. That need, that desire was driving him insane, especially when he woke up on this day, a year after she’s been gone. It was cingulomania at its best.

He was barely human at this point, drinking in his free time to numb the pain the best way he could or overworking himself to the point of passing out. He needed to keep his mind either busy or blank and all with the goal of never once letting his thoughts turn to her because even one more moment of her face before his eyes would have driven him insane.

Little did he know his soulmate was having her own crisis in the time they spent apart, from the very moment she realized she had found a soulmate.

When she saw her reflection for the first time since that morning she had left Grant in bed, Y/N had felt herself break. That silver lock of hair on her head felt like ice in her heart, the revelation tearing into her as she crumbled, falling to the floor. Her eyes shifted to the side and became glazed with a glossy layer of tears. As she blinked, they dripped from her eyelids and slid down her cheeks. She bit her lip tightly in an attempt to hide any sound that wanted to escape from her mouth.

“Damn it!”

She didn’t know if it was the handsome Grant she spent the night with or possibly some stranger she passed on the street or the taxi driver, hell, it could be anyone on the airplane she found herself on. But she didn’t know who her soulmate was nor if she was truly angry about that fact. Meeting her soulmate and not knowing it’s them is just supporting her theory that soulmates are nothing special. And while she felt her hips ache with every step she took back to her seat, she chuckled dryly.

“It can’t be him.” She told herself, convincing herself that the man she can still feel on her skin, inside her, around her, is the same man who had turned a lock of her hair silver. It would be cruel, to both Grant and her. But she wouldn’t put it past destiny. Besides, wouldn’t he have told her if he saw it happen? But what if he wanted to wait until after they had sex? What if he didn’t want to scare her away?

Leaning back, she let out a heavy sigh. Opening her eyes, she stared blankly through the window, aware she already left New York and chances for her to find him again were slim anyway. She wasn’t familiar enough with the city to retrace her steps and she wasn’t planning on going back. Not unless they were truly meant to be. And the worst thing is, he kept his promise – the ghost of his touch still lingered all over her.

“We’ll make a deal, okay?” She whispered under her breath, hoping whatever force invented soulmates is listening. “If he’s the one, I won’t fight it. But I won’t search for him either. If we’re meant to be, create a different serendipity moment and I’ll trust you.”

But when she looked around, Grant wasn’t there. He wasn’t there and she really fucking thought he’d magically appear as the answer destiny would have loved to rub her face in. And she wouldn’t mind if he did. If he somehow knew her flight information and just happened to be the one who was meant to sit in the empty seat beside her.

But he wasn’t and she never felt more alone in her life and that’s saying a lot considering what a pity party her life had been up to last night. But she was meant to be a lone wolf, that much is clear to her. All alone. She was all alone with half of her soul.

Serendipity - the occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way.

“What’s with the scowl?” Grayson deadpanned, flicking Ethan’s shoulder. He was getting quite annoyed with his brother and his need to sulk. It was a sunny day, the beginning of their intern season and Grayson expected to deliver five babies till the end of his shift and that always put a smile on his face. The immature part of Grayson wanted to be a gynecologist because he thought he’d get more action, but it changed when he learned about ethics, yet what really got to him is when he delivered his first baby. That’s when Grayson truly fell in love with his job.

“I hate this. The worst part about being a doctor is teaching idiot interns and making sure they don’t kill someone.” Ethan sighed, placing his stethoscope around his neck, tucking the drum in his pocket, right behind his pens and I.D. badge –  Dr. Ethan Dolan.

“Yeah? I love it! I get more fangirls and fanboys willing to bring me coffee and pick up the dry cleaning!” His brother’s enthusiasm always made Ethan smile, unable to keep the scowl going. It’s not just he who is suffering, it’s Grayson too. Now that Ethan had found the one, despite remaining single, he had started to age. Almost a year had passed and Ethan was no longer twenty. He would grow old and die and Grayson is worried he won’t be able to find his soulmate in time to grow old with his brother, the person Grayson saw as his original soulmate. After all the time he spent avoiding it, he wanted to find his own soulmate and grow older too. Sure, he could die from a disease even before Ethan does of old age, but he much preferred his death to be from an abundance of love.

“I might take a page out of your book. Time to have some fun?” Ethan wondered out loud, feeling a wave of serenity wash over him. The last time he truly felt like everything will be alright was a year ago and he was in bed with the only woman who had managed to ruin him. Her beauty may be unpreceded, but he needed to move on, now or never.

With a tap on Grayson’s shoulder, Ethan left to meet his new interns. They always come with glossy eyes and slight panic behind the excitement they exhibit. While it was fun at first, Ethan quickly realized most interns don’t make it through the process – some switch specialties, others quit medicine completely and some are asked to leave because they aren’t as good as they hoped they’d be. It’s usually one or two that make it to the finish line and there are always bets going around the attendee lounge on who it will be. The most annoying part was the fact most of the interns were actually male as surgery is considered a boy’s club and very few women choose surgery as their specialty. He expected a bunch of spoiled, entitled rich kids with trust funds or at the very least a few of those who like collecting degrees in their stolen immortality.

Glancing at his watch, Ethan took longer steps once he realized he’s nearly late and the chief likely gave his speech on what surgical interns are expected to do without him. Ethan liked giving that speech, scaring the crap out of them so he could size them up properly. That’s how he’d tell who makes it in the end and Ethan had never been wrong so far. The good ones have a healthy dose of fear but they’re mostly unmovable forces of nature.

Hands in the pockets of his lab coat, Ethan had strolled into the operating room the chief liked to use as show and tell for the eager interns, instantly attracting looks from all present. While the chief simply nodded, Ethan stepped beside him with a bored look on his face, especially when he realized he’s right about male predominance. And while he would have rather went to bed before his next patient, Ethan felt the kind of energy he hadn’t felt in a while. Wanting to ride it out, he looked at his interns carefully, finding only four out of five are present.

“Why are there only four of you?” He spoke up, interrupting the chief rudely enough for the older man to look back at him with a glare but Ethan didn’t pay him any attention. After all, he will be chief in a year or two. He watched the man grow old before his eyes, considering him a good friend. The glare was really more of a show for the interns, to make it clear who runs the hospital.

“I asked a question. There’s one missing.” Ethan smacked his lips as the clueless interns looked at each other nervously, already hating the fifth intern for making them all look bad. What one of them does reflects on the entire group and while they’re competitive amongst themselves, they usually present a united front in front of their attendees.

And just as Ethan wanted to rain hellfire on the trembling four, the missing link all but fell through the door and his world stopped spinning. Her hair is longer, pulled up in a messy ponytail, her mascara slightly smudged and her lips void of the red color he kissed off them the last time they saw each other.

She hung her head low, knowing everyone is looking at her as she buttons up her lab coat. Brushing her palms together, she took in a few shuddered breaths, needing air after all the running she had done. It took her way too long to realize the amount of sleep she was getting is suspicious and she checked her clock with the sole purpose of making the weird gut feeling that made her sick go away.

However, as Y/N looked up, she plastered the slightest of smiles on her face, half shrugging at her fellow interns who wanted to gauge her eyes out. Even more so after they saw how causal she appears to be about running late.

“Well, now that you’re all here, I’m sure doctor Dolan can take over.” Chief excused himself and that’s the first time she looked at him – truly looked at the tall man who had an unreadable, cold expression on his face, but she surely couldn’t mistake him for anyone else but Grant. His eyes held her captive ever since she dared to make eye contact, but they didn’t seem like the gentle swirls of hazel she fell for that night – they held a hardness, an anger, a need to make her life a living hell. Yet she couldn’t stop herself from muttering under her breath.

“Oh, shit.”

Ethan swallowed thickly, unsure if he wanted to push her against the closest wall and kiss her or if he wanted to scream at her for being so soulless that night, leaving him all alone with nothing but torn up lace panties and a bra to remember her by. It was cruel and he wanted to believe she didn’t do it on purpose, but he didn’t know what to believe anymore.

Breaking eye contact, Ethan cleared his throat before turning to the entire group instead of just the girl that confused him to no end. Three male and two female interns – a cocky ass, entitled brat, diploma collector, daddy’s spoiled little girl, and his soulmate, the girl who was late.

“I don’t have the time or will to learn your names today and it will likely take a miracle for me to ever learn them. That’s why”, pointing at the first intern by the door who had a cocky look on his face, “you will be doing scut. Ask the nurses what they need you for.” Turning to the other three before the cocky ass had a chance to complain about basically being the nurses’ bitch, Ethan pointed at them as well. “You’re on neuro, you’re on general and the fancy Littmann girl is on ortho.”

While the four of them just stared at Ethan who had failed to give any assignments to the only one who was late, Ethan decided to give a few rules of his own.

“I only have a few rules here: respect the nurses, BE ON TIME, call me only if your patient is dying and the patient better be alive when I get there. It’s pretty simple to remember. Now go!” He clapped his hands, scaring the four but neither moved.

“Sir, excuse me, but what will she do?” The cocky intern asked, unaware he’s only raising Ethan’s blood pressure. He wondered what she’d do too, but he had a much better idea than any punishment she could ever have. Especially as the silver streak in her hair taunted him. She flaunts her soulmate mark as if it means nothing and he would make sure to know if that’s truly the case.

“Miss fashionably late is with me.” Ethan declared, stepping closer to Y/N as the rest left. He leaned in, his head cocked to the side as she felt his cologne fill her nostrils, only making her chest rise faster as her breaths quickened. “Hope you brushed up on cardiothoracic surgery because we have a long double shift to get through.” Winking, Ethan jerked his head in the direction of the door, moving through them just a moment later, leaving Y/N dazed until his voice woke her up again.

“MOVE ALONG SLOWPOKE!”

Shaking her head, Y/N started speeding down the hall, trying not to stare at the silver lock at the back of his head. It’s easier to ignore it than actually face the meaning behind that lock and the last time she saw it. She couldn’t forget how her fingers moved through the same hair, likely dancing along the soulmate mark that may or may not bind her to Grant for the rest of her unfortunately short life. Some would say just because it’s short it doesn’t mean it can’t still be meaningless, but it also meant that all her plans were now gone.

How can she be a surgeon and also travel the world? How can she do all the crazy things she mapped out for herself during the most painful times in her life when she’s facing death AGAIN, even if this one is due to natural causes. She’s had enough encounters with death to last her a forever, but it seems she’s never going to get far in her race for life.

“You could slow down a bit, ya know?” She groaned, feeling the lack of air hitting her as she lets her mouth run wild. Ethan turned on his heel, his glare still very much present yet an odd, mystic hint of a smirk appeared as well once he took her disheveled looks into account.

“Not my fault you can’t keep up. A word to the wise, you better learn how to because surgery is ruthless, fast-paced and rightfully so. I’m all for equality but surgery is overrun by men who will belittle you every chance they get, so don’t give them that chance. Be quick, be precise and for the love of God, be careful when you run your mouth. I’m your boss, act like it.” Ethan’s explanation had resonated with her, nearly knocking the last of what’s caught of her breath out just by the way he looked at her, let alone with the deep tone he choose or the words he crafted. And while she understood it, aware of all he has said is the ugly truth, she also didn’t appreciate him being so cold with her.

She expected him to use the time alone to talk to her about that night, about the moment he realized she left…about the silver streak in their hair. But a different fear settled in – ‘What if he doesn’t remember me? What if I was right and he had the streak long before I came along? If he’s not the one, who is? And why the fuck do I want it to be him so badly?’

Swallowing her pride, she hardened her gaze and pressed her lips together as her thoughts settled and she found the courage to speak. She’s always been fierce, a true advocate for herself and she wasn’t about to fall to her knees because a guy she lost her virginity to is suddenly her boss who doesn’t seem to remember her or even like her one bit. In fact, if she had to bet on it, he quite possibly hates her.

“I’m very well aware of that, sir. I, however, plan on making my mark here by my actions and those actions will not be defined by what everyone else wants me to be. I will not let anyone make me feel inferior because of my sex nor will it make me cower in fear. What I do expect is for my boss to teach me how to swim, not just throw me in the ocean and expect me to tackle every wave on my own, but to guide me so I can be a proper doctor, a confident surgeon and hopefully a remarkable individual by the end of this program.” She wasn’t afraid to square up to him, proud of herself for speaking up and fighting for her own future. She was willing to talk to him about their past involvement, to even accept him as a soulmate, but if he wanted to pretend nothing happened, she’ll indulge him. But she refuses to let him tear her to pieces due to whatever ego complex he has. Surgeons are known to be incredibly arrogant and she hated that trait.

“And you will be.” Turning away from her, Ethan continued on as she walked after him, just a step behind even if it did make her legs and lungs burn. All the gym avoidance really humbled her today. Entering a patient room, the air of arrogance around Grant had disappeared and she all but rubbed her eyes to make sure it’s the same man she had argued in the hall a minute ago.

“How are you doing today Steven?” Grant smiled lightly, patting the patient on his shoulder as the old man chuckled. “Doing fine, doc. When you fix my ticker, I’ll be even better. Sue can’t wait for that trip we talked about.”

Y/N cocked an eyebrow in confusion, turning to the patient with a soft smile she practiced in front of a mirror because she’s the type to have a resting bitch face and she wanted to seem approachable to her patients.

“Excuse me, but Sue?” She wanted in on the conversation, to build trust, to be part of the team and have all the information, no matter how small and insignificant they seem. Patients are far less likely to lie to their doctor or sue their doctor if the doctor is friendly. They also have better outcomes and she wanted a better outcome for those she treats.

“She’s my wife and soulmate. Met her right before I turned twenty.” Steven’s eyes light up naturally with the mention of his loved one, the way most would melt at but it only brought up questions for Y/N.

“Before twenty? You never thought it was a bit early?” Her voice may have seemed even, but her heart wasn’t calm and her entire being felt on edge as she felt Grant’s eyes on her. She didn’t have to look at him to know, there was something about his gaze that both warmed her and scared her to no end. There was a fire of sorts burning in those devilish orbs and the intensity could drive anyone insane. She knew she’d never find it in other men, even if he wasn’t her soulmate.

“Early? Never! I was never much for those who abuse the connection and wander the earth like renegades. Their soulmate may die a thousand deaths by the time they decide to settle down and what does it all amount to? Growing old alone is a terrible fate, child. It’s never too early to find the other part of your soul. Until you do, you’ll never know what you’re missing and I think you know that too. I see the silver lock, you know? I’m not that old yet.” Pursing her lips, she stopped herself from saying something she might regret. The old man might be right, but she was far from ready to admit it to herself – that she would grow old alone and that as much as she feared being loved, she feared being unloved much more.

“It’s not real. Just a fashionable trend.” Y/N lied, pushing the streak behind her ear as she plastered a fake smile on her face to ease the patient who didn’t seem to believe her at all, but he wouldn’t push her.

“Give Steven a listen here and tell me what you hear.” Grant instructed her and she quickly pulled her stethoscope out of her pocket. It wasn’t a fancy Littmann stethoscope or a Spirit one most interns have, but a start-up stethoscope he had before he could make any money. It was likely a sign she comes from a poor family, if she had any family at all.

As she asked the man to take deep breaths, Ethan examined the way that silver lock had fallen back on her face. Her eyebrows knit together in focus, her teeth sinking in the bottom lip as she tries to hear every change. Then she moves from the lungs to the heart, asking Steven to hold his breath briefly, enough to hear the way his heart beats without the background breathing sounds that can interfere. But as she listens to his heart, she also listens to the carotid arteries on Steven’s neck and Ethan all but clapped in excitement because she clearly heard what he needed her to and is simply getting a confirmation before speaking.

“I hear a harsh crescendo-decrescendo systolic murmur at the right upper sternal border and it radiates to the carotid arteries, but also crackles in the lungs. It indicates an aortic stenosis with pulmonary congestion.” Y/N put her hands behind her back as she waited for Grant to speak, only to narrow her eyes at him when he does.

“Are you sure? Because I disagree.” Ethan barely contained a laugh as he watched her face turn bright red, hoping she doesn’t crack like many do when their attendees challenges them. It’s not something they do to embarrass their interns, but to teach them to trust themselves, building their confidence or tearing it down if they decide to back down.

“In that case you are in the wrong. I stand behind my examination.” Y/N lifted her chin proudly, defiantly. Such a small gesture, but enough for Ethan to want to place her chin between his thumb and index finger before he tilts her head upwards to meet his hungry lips.

“That’s impossible. Doctor Ethan is the best one in this clinic.” Steven defended, taking the exchange seriously, as if he forgot his diagnosis too.

‘Ethan? That’s his name?’ She wondered, blinking fast thus ending their staring contest inadvertedly.

“I was just testing my intern, Steve. No need to defend me, although I agree with you. I am the best!” Ethan chuckled, walking over to Y/N as if being in the same room with him wasn’t already driving her insane, as if his very existence wasn’t sucking all the air out of her lungs. Just a simple brush of his arm against her shoulder sparked electricity and she wanted nothing more than for him to either close the distance or to leave the room so she could fucking breathe.

“We’re doing a valve replacement in a few hours, so prep the patient and we’ll see how deep that confidence truly goes,” Ethan smirked, winking at her so casually as if it wasn’t effectively stopping her heart from beating normally, as if her face didn’t burn like he set a fire in her being.

With a curt nod, Ethan left her alone with Steven who couldn’t help but tease her.

“You sure he isn’t your soulmate?”

Scoffing, she glanced over her shoulder at the man in question, still visible through the glass window as he got himself a cup of coffee from the vending machine. He looked graceful doing that as well. It made her want to punch him in his handsome face.

“Not a chance.” She pressed her lips together, reluctantly taking her eyes off Grant…Ethan, and focusing her attention on the patient.

It didn’t take her long to prepare the patient with the help of a nurse and an anesthesiologist, making their way to the operating theatre where Grant was meant to be waiting for her…them.

“Why aren’t you scrubbing?” Ethan questioned, giving her a quick glance as she stared at the patient through the glass. He could tell she has something else on her mind, a worry of sorts he didn’t pick up on earlier but he did now and he wanted to know what it is that weighs on her soul.

“I didn’t meet Sue.” Y/N murmured, a frown etching itself on her face as a crease appeared between her eyebrows and her nose scrunched up ever so slightly with the gesture.

“They agreed she would say goodbye in the morning, but would come back once he’s in surgery. He didn’t want her to worry.” Ethan explained, continuing to scrub his forearms next. “Now, why aren’t you scrubbing? Not many interns get to come into the OR on their first day. Take the win and come see what you’ve signed up for.” Ethan finished, leaving Y/N to ponder.

The man she now knows only about twenty-four hours in total, including the night they spent together, has both made her angry and yet grateful, cheerful even as she realized she truly will have an experience the other interns would kill for. And while she can’t help but wonder if he’s doing it because he wants to reward her for getting the diagnosis right earlier or because he DOES remember her, she couldn’t let this chance pass her by.

And while the surgery was pretty routine and there were no hiccups, Ethan didn’t say much, only asked her a few things here and there to make sure she understands what is what and how to perform a valve replacement surgery. She didn’t do much, holding the retractor most of the time, but she smiled nonetheless because she got to HOLD THE RETRACTOR and the surgery was a success.

“Go and tell Sue everything went fine while I finish here and meet me in the ICU after. Your job for the rest of this shift will be to make sure he’s recovering well.” Ethan instructed and she nodded, taking off to the waiting room where only one older woman sat, the rest being far too young to be involved with Steven.

“Hello, mam’. I’m doctor Y/L/N and I was assigned to your husband’s case. I wanted to let you know the surgery went without any complications and they are moving him to the ICU as we speak. Once he’s able to take visitors, someone will come and get you.” Y/N barely finished before the woman threw herself at her, hugging her way too tightly for a frail old woman she seemed to be. And while Y/N stiffened at the contact, she kept a smile going even after Sue let her go, the woman not hiding her happy tears over the good news.

“Thank you so much. Steve always did say doctor Dolan is the best!”

Once she turned around, with a deep breath, Y/N wiped the smile off her face and headed back to the ICU. Sure, she got lost once on the way and a nurse was nice enough not to laugh at her for it, helping her find a way back, but once she came back, Y/N found Steven alone.

“Did doctor Dolan leave already?” Y/N questioned the nurse, her eyebrows furrowing. He did ask her to meet him, but why is he not there?

“He was paged to the ER.” The nurse shrugged, leaving Y/N alone with the patient who continued to sleep for the next eight hours. Sue was allowed to see him for a few minutes, but Y/N couldn’t risk anyone else finding out because the ICU is usually off-limits for visitations. Y/N made a conscious decision, even if it gets her in trouble. She wanted to give Sue a moment with her soulmate, even if Grant made her do scut for the remainder of her internship.

And as the day went by and night settled in, Y/N had no idea just how badly the situation would change. Within a few seconds all the monitors started beeping and the one that mattered, the line that signified a beating heart, it flattened.

Eyes wide, Y/N jumped from her seat and called the nurses for a crash cart to be delivered and for the attendee to be paged.

“Charge the paddles!” Y/N raised her voice, unaware how her calm exterior means nothing when her voice shows just how panicked she is.

“But the patient is in asystole.” One of the nurses spoke up, but Y/N didn’t want to give up.

“And we already pushed the adrenaline, now charge the damn paddles!” Y/N shouted and the nurses obeyed, aware the intern wouldn’t learn how futile her attempts are until she tries. They would let her try, at least. The paddles wouldn’t work on a patient flatlining, they all knew it.

But Y/N kept trying, for ten minutes straight, performing CPR once the nurses stopped helping. The feeling of guilt, of helplessness wouldn’t let her stop as sweat dripped from her. Hell, she was swimming in sweat. Her own breathing labored, her heart aching as she sang ‘Stayin alive’ in her head over and over to keep the rhythm of the chest compressions. She tried so hard, but the patient was gone. Everyone knew it, but no one did a damn thing to stop her. No one but Ethan.

“Hey, hey.” He whispered in her ear as his arms folded around her and pulled her into him, taking her off Steven.

“Time of death 1 am.” And as he called the time of death, he felt a strong push against his chest and Y/N stormed out, leaving him with a heavy heart. He had to go after her, to make sure she’s alright. So he did. Ethan ran after her, straight into the on-call room she rushed into, nearly slamming the door in his face.

Managing to get a foot in, Ethan walked in and locked the door behind him. He watched her back as it rose quickly and erratically, wanting nothing more but to hold her close and tell her it’s alright but his words are futile. She doesn’t even seem to like him, much less care about what he has to say. She doesn’t want his comfort and she doesn’t want him, or so he thought.

“You know there was nothing to do for Steven, right? He was in asystole from the start. It wasn’t your fault. He likely threw a clot.” Ethan tried anyway, for his own peace of mind. He had to try and comfort her, lessen the burden that comes with losing your first patient and especially on her first day.

But Y/N was upset, her entire body shaking even as she turned to face him with a wild look in her eyes that held pain, but no tears. She never did seem like a person that spends her tears easily.

“This is scary, okay? I’m no longer a student who gets to party and zone out whenever I want! This is real! I’m alone with a patient and I’m either the shield or the door to death and a simple mishap is the difference between the two. I feel like I fucked up.” She ran a hand through her hair in frustration, ruffling it into a sexy disaster Ethan wanted to commit to memory. But he had to reassure her.

“You’re not alone. Not when I’m here.” Stepping closer to her, Ethan swallowed thickly as she scoffed and he knew she had something more to say, to defy him in any way possible because she’s incredibly stubborn, looking for trouble everywhere.

“You weren’t there! I was alone!” She poked his chest with the tip of her index finger repeatedly, searching for someone to blame, anyone but herself.

“HE WAS FINE! He and Sue were supposed to go on a trip!” She shouted only to stop herself with a new realization. “Oh, God! Sue!” That’s when Ethan saw her eyes fill with tears. None of them had fallen, but her vision blurred as she thought about the poor woman who felt the moment her soulmate left this world. She felt deeply for her as she knew how painful that is, just how it affects people and the outcomes of that hurt. She saw it firsthand with her parents.

“Just breathe.” Ethan placed his hands on her face, cupping her cheeks as he leaned down to be at eye level with her. She was spiraling too quickly and he had to calm her down. They teach the students about everything life related – how it starts, how it runs its course and how it can be complicated by disease. Not many teach what happens when the patient dies.

“Breathe with me, okay?” He kept his voice steady, feeling her hands on his chest as she nodded, taking each breath in perfect synchronization with Grant, her heart slowing down.

Leading her to the bed, Ethan laid on his back, allowing her the freedom to choose if she wanted to keep sitting or lay down beside him. It took her a minute before she decided to tuck herself closer to him, her head resting on his chest as she stared blankly.

“This was the first death you had to deal with, but it won’t be the last if you choose to keep practicing medicine.” Ethan’s voice rumbled through his chest as he spoke, the vibrations soothing her mind more than she thought was possible.

“This wasn’t my first death. It’s more than that. It’s not even about the patients we lose. I mean, sure, that gets you because you were supposed to save them, but it’s not them. Once you’re gone, you’re gone, but what really gets me is the reaction of their loved ones. They’re the ones you failed the most. How am I supposed to tell Sue? After seeing how happy she was when I told her everything went fine?” Y/N’s voice cracked, startling Ethan who had only seen her strong in this day and this moment of weakness she decided to share with him meant more to him than anything in this world.

Placing an open hand on her back, he rubbed it gently in circles, needing the touch as much as she does. Although she’d never admit it.

“It’s always hard, but you learn to turn it off after a while. Some patients and their stories hit harder than others, but the key to getting over it is getting back up and healing someone to restore the balance.”

Letting out a heavy sigh, he whispered softly. “Sleep. I’ll be here.”

But her words truly made his heart ache. “I’m scared”, she whispered back, her fingers playing with the fabric of his scrubs, tugging at it.

“Of me?” The hand on her back stopped moving, his body turning rigid under her. She didn’t mean that, because for the first time in forever it felt quite the opposite.

“No, not you. It’s just… When you fall asleep, do you see the faces of all the people you didn’t save?” Her question carried significant weight and while he could have lied to her just to make her feel better, Ethan didn’t want them to start off on the wrong foot. It was time to build trust.

“Sometimes. But I swear I’ll be here with you. I won’t leave and if you need me, just nudge me, okay?” Ethan looked down at her, hoping she’d look up and meet his gaze because even if he did love the back of her head, those eyes of hers were much dearer to his heart. But she didn’t turn around, closing her eyes instead.

“Thank you, Grant.”

And while she fell asleep, for the next few hours all Ethan could do is smile as he stared at her lovingly. She did remember after all and he had every intention of proving their soulmate bond is real, even if it takes him the rest of his life.

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Tags: @beinscorpio​ ​​ @peacedolantwins​ ​​ @heyits-claire​ ​​ @dolandolll​ ​​ @godlydolans​ ​​ @dolanstwintuesday​ ​​ @ethanhes​ ​ @iwastornsincethestart​ ​ @graydolan12​

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#ethan dolan #ethan dolan x reader #ethan dolan soulmate au #ethan dolan angst #ethan dolan fluff #ethan dolan smut #ethan dolan series #ethan dolan au #ethan dolan doctor au #grayson dolan #dolan twins

[luxurxously-pale]

Words Left Unsaid five

word count-  2781 (this one is a bit shorter since it’s left on a slight cliffhanger i guess you could say ;) )

series masterlist   previous chapter

Spencer quickly drove them to an airport. It wasn’t long before the plane was taking off and he was doing case files. “So if you had to take down any animal what animal do you think you could take down the easiest?” He asks her out of the blue

Adelyn looked over at him like he was insane, “I’m sorry..what?” She let out a small laugh, dropping the pen she was using to fill out the case report

He looked up at her like it was the most normal question in the world. “I said, if you had to fight any animal in the world, which would you think would be the easiest to fight?” He asks her

Adelyn opened her mouth then closed it her eyebrows furrowed, she leaned back into her chair her tongue going out licking the corner of her mouth still confused where the question came from, “I don’t know? Where the hell did the question come from?”

“Well I was sitting here thinking about the most vicious animals on this planet.” He starts to explain to her “and I was starting to think about the hardest animal to beat and the easiest animal to beat. I think the easiest would be a turtle. You could just... you know, punt it.” He tells her

Adelyn let out a loud laugh causing some of the team members to look at her. she looked at him with a smile she leaned forward against the table in front of her with her elbows on it, “Hm..I’m actually not sure yours might be the better option..there’s so many though, like stingrays they really aren’t that aggressive and they rarely attack..you could probably take a fish out easily I mean they swim into hooks all the time and once their out of water you got it.” She shrugged

He nods and thinks. “I like your way of thinking. They all sound really easy to take out.” He nods and slowly goes back to his paper work like nothing happened. The flight was fairly uneventful after that. “And we are back home.” He smiles, “I have pets to look at.” He tells her “I decided to go to the animal shelter.”

Adelyn smiled a little. She finished her paperwork by the time they landed, she gave it to Hotch on the way out, “That’s awesome! If you need help I’m always a call away!” She smiled looking up at him, “The whiskey at home is calling me.” She giggled

He laughs, “I’ll send you photos of whatever animal I get later.” He tells her. He waves as he makes his way to his car. He called Adelyn from his car after coming out of the animal shelter.

Adelyn nodded smiling, she got home fairly easily the moment she got home she changed into something more comfortable.

 When Spencer called she was sitting on the counter with a glass of whiskey in hand, “Hello old man!” She answered with a small giggle

He laughs “so I may have gotten two huskies instead of a turtle that I wanted.” He tells her as he was trying to drive as they were exploring his car. He couldn’t say no to them

Adelyn's eyes widened, “Spencer!!” She let out a laugh shaking her head, “How the hell are you gonna deal with them! They are hungry all the time, talk back-'' she paused to let out another laugh, “Shed literally everywhere!”

“I don’t know!” He exclaims “they talked to me! I went to walk past them and they made this cute bark and I just couldn’t resist them!” He tells her. “They needed a home! They need love!”

Adelyn giggles a little, “Do you want me to go to the pet store and get things that are needed so you can get them settled at your house?” She asked sliding off the counter, “What are their names?”

“Yes please. They seem hungry. I think. One of them bit my car door so I think that means they’re hungry.” He informs her “um I haven’t gotten that far. Though the sassy white and brown one with blue eyes is named sky.” He watches as the sky tries to climb up to the front seat “no! You’re too young to be up here! Did I mention that they’re puppies?”

Adelyn laughed, shaking her head, “Spence..you’re adorable.” She grabbed her keys and went to her room throwing on a pair of pants, “You have an iPhone right?” She asked walking through her house to grab everything she needed

“Yes I do.” He tells her “why?” He asks as he parks his car. “How do I get them upstairs without them running off? They’re so hyper all the time. I don’t think they’re going to calmly go upstairs.” He tells her

Adelyn quickly clicked the button that allowed FaceTime, she walked to her car setting her phone up on the stand, “You kinda have to carry them Spence.” She laughed a little starting her car up

“Well I can’t call you and carry them!” He tells her. One of the dogs jumps up front and on Spencer, giving him kisses. “Oh goodness! I’m being attacked.” He tells her and pets the dog. “Hello cutie. Here comes your sister.” Suddenly he has two dogs crawling all over him

Adelyn smiled looking over at the phone as she drove, “You have a pocket Spence!” She shrugged with a small smirk, “Besides you need a witness in case they eat you!” She teased

He laughs as he shoves his phone in his pocket before grabbing the dogs. “We are going to go upstairs and be good!” He informs the dogs as he takes them to his house. “Well I got them upstairs and now they’re exploring.” He takes out his phone to show her. “They’re adorable”

Adelyn snorted when hearing him, she pulled into the nearest pet store, getting out and grabbing her wallet, phone and keys, “I’m sure they are!” She smiled walking into the store, “Alright so...dog food, dog beds, toys, collars..” she mumbled to herself looking around

He was busy playing with the dogs “this is your new home, just don’t ruin it.” He warns the dogs. “No! We don’t eat toilet paper!” He scolds “Adelyn hurry! I need parenting advice.”

Adelyn snorted and nodded, “I’ll call you when I’m there.” She smiled before hanging up, she grabbed a cart and quickly got everything needed. She paid and went to her car going to his house.

By the time she got there he was trying to puppy proof the house while they were jumping all over him. “This is not a polite way to treat me.” He tells them. “When daddy gets here you guys better eat.”

Adelyn called him getting out of her car, she grabbed the bags starting to head up. She struggled a bit carrying the big bag of dog food, “I’m here Spence!”

He opened the door “that’s a lot of dog food. It’s going to take them forever to eat all of that” he tells her. The puppies come up running to jump on her. “They’re still hyper! I don’t get it. They never calm down.”

Adelyn giggled a little. She carefully put the dog food down and knelt down to pet them, giggling when they jumped on her, “Hi babies..oo hi yes hi.” She giggled and kissed their heads.

“I still haven’t found a name for the other dog. She’s a biter though” he tells her “she’s bitten my ear so many times that it’s ridiculous.” He chuckles “but sky is a cuddle bug. She loves hugs.”

Adelyn giggled a little,she looked up at him, “Go into the bag and grab a chew toy, that's what puppy’s do.” She let out a small squeak as Sky pushed her off her balance

He grabbed the chew toy and gave it to the small pup. Just as he went to show Adelyn that the puppy was playing she lost her balance. He rushed to her side “are you okay?” He asks her quickly, checking her over.

Adelyn laughed, nodding, “I forgot how strong Huskies are.” She smiled and gently pushed the dog off so she could sit up

“The adoption center told me she was only going to get bigger.” He explains to her. “I’m not sure what I’m going to do with two huge dogs when I have to go on cases.”

Adelyn giggles a little, “I’m sure my brother could watch them.” She shrugged a bit, “Or P can.” She looked up at him

“She would never give them back if I gave her a shot with them,” he chuckles, “she’ll fall in love just like I did. I went for a turtle!” He exclaims.

Adelyn giggles a little and nods, “You’re right...” she shook her head slightly standing up, “I’ll unpack all the crap I got...alright?”

He nods “can you Uh teach me how to take care of dogs? I’ve been doing research but I have never had a dog growing up.” He tells her “so I don’t want you to accidentally neglect them.”

Adelyn snorted, nodding, “Yes I will...you can even call me whenever.” She smiled, grabbed the bags, and walked over to the couch, placing everything down, “Alright..you still need to get tags but I got basically everything else!”

“I was planning on taking them to the vet tomorrow to make sure they’re all caught up on their shots. Then also make sure they’re healthy. Should I get their tags then?” He asks

Adelyn nodded, "Yea..I would do that!" she smiled and glanced at the puppy he hadn't named, "I would name that pupper first though.." she giggled a little, "I bought like four collars...I wasn't sure the genders so..."

He chuckles “both girls but they can wear whatever collar they want.” He tells her “I don’t know what to name the dog. Do you have anything in mind? Also would you maybe want to join me on their first walk?” He asks with a smile

Adelyn rolled her eyes a little, she took out the collars, setting them on the table, “Hmm..I’m not sure what’s your favorite book?” She asked before she grinned, “Of course I would love to!”

“I don’t have a favorite. I’ve read way too many.” He tells her and thinks. “Do you know how many books I’ve read?” He asks her with a chuckle. “I read like two every day.”

Adelyn giggled a little shrugging, “Favorite show? Favorite flower?” She looked up at him, “I’m trying to get names for you!” She laughed

He chuckled as he looked at the dog. “Maybe I could name her based on her personality.” He suggests “she’s kind of a bitch with her biting but I obviously can’t call her that. Even if that is truly what female dogs are called” He jokes

Adelyn's eyes widened and she gently pushed him, “What about chips? After the dog that served in World War Two?” She smiled a bit, “He dodged gunfire to run phone cables and in an especially incredible moment might I add- launched himself at a shooting bunker as his handler took cover from fire.”

He looked at the dog with a smile, “chips it is.” He tells the dog. The truth is that any name she picked he would have loved. It was just something about her. “Want to try to take them for their first walk?” He asks

Adelyn smiled a bit and nodded, “Of course I would!” She grabbed the collars and leashes handing a set to him

He puts the collar on the sky and the leash. “Do you think they’ll be easy dogs to train? You see I’ve done my research and-“ he went to go on a rambling spree before sky started howling

Adelyn giggles a bit, “No and I think she’s requesting to go out now.” She smirked a bit kneeling to put the collar and leash on Chips

He chuckles “they’re sassy for sure.” He tells her as he opens the door and almost gets dragged out by the puppy. “She’s stronger than she looks.” Reid says, trying not to look weak in front of Adelyn.

Adelyn laughed, shaking her head, “And here I thought Spencer Reid was smart.” She teased standing up holding the leash to Chips she let out a small giggle as the puppy starts chewing on the leash

He chuckles softly as he starts walking them to the elevator. “Well the puppies would be a good excuse for you to spend more time at my place.” He tells her with a slight blush on his face

Adelyn followed behind him, Chips not tugging the leash at all, just trotting happily. She blushed a bit looking at her feet before looking up with a coy smile, “Wouldn’t need pups for that.”

He chuckles softly “I also have some wine for you to taste. I don’t really drink by myself so I would definitely need a friend to help me out.” He may have a slight crush on adelyn but he wasn’t going to tell her

Adelyn giggles a little and nods, “What’s the occasion?” She asked to walk out of the elevator once the doors opened.

“I just saw some wine I thought you’d like so I thought I’d get it.” He tells her, the truth is he thinks about her a lot. “So surprised you have another reason to come over all the time.” He looks over and smiles at her

Adelyn blushed a little before giggling, “That’s very sweet of you Reid.” She smiled before letting out a small sound of surprise when chips jerked her forward

Reid quickly grabbed her wrist so she wouldn’t be dragged too far away. “Are you okay?” He asks her softly as the dogs took a break from walking to play fight with each other

Adelyn let out a laugh nodding, “Yes I’m alright.” She smiled looking up at him, “just was surprised.” She shrugged a bit, blushing, “I don’t know how you’re gonna do this.” She giggled

He chuckles softly “I have to get adjusted to it eventually right?” He asks her with a smile on his face. “I’m scared about when they get bigger and stronger. I may have to hit the gym.” He jokes

Adelyn giggled a little and gently squeezed his bicep, “You mean these guns can’t handle them?” She teased looking up at him with a look of adoration

He laughs at her and shakes his head softly “you are something else Addy. I don’t think I’d ever meet someone like you if I had never met you.” He tells her, he really did think that. She was one of a kind

Adelyn giggled a bit and smirked, “That’s because there is nobody like me…!” She looked at the dogs with a small smile before she straightened up a bit, she ran her free hand through her hair

He chuckles softly as he looks up, immediate Recognition of the person slowly walking towards them. He looked around quickly before grabbing Addy and yanking her back behind a trash can. He gave her a stern look, making sure she wouldn’t talk. The nice sunny day suddenly turned into Reid’s nightmare. “I just saw an unsub we’ve been looking for... for about ten years.” He sighed as he ran his hand through his hair, stressed out. He didn’t know what to do. Nothing about this guy's profile has said he would be this risky.

Adelyn's eyes widened a bit, “I- what?!” She looked up at him eyes full of concern, “First of all who the hell? And second how the hell have you not found them?” She questioned, she knew the BAU had tough unsubs but she never thought it would go on longer than 5 years..‘I guess I’m wrong.’ She thought He risked taking a peak but couldn’t see anyone. “It’s this guy named Jake

 Bauer.” He says quietly, petting the dogs to keep them quiet. “He’s in a big drug smuggling ring. Think of a mafia boss but for drugs... well I guess mafias do indulge in drugs too so I guess think of him as a mafia boss.” He shrugs, having to correct himself immediately Adelyn went rigid, she looked at him, her mouth opening then closing similar to a fish. “I’m sorry..did you just say Jake Bauer?” She questioned her voice shaky, she was hoping she was just being paranoid and she didn’t hear his name but knowing her luck and past- she probably did hear him correctly.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x oc #words left unsaid

[steve0discusses]

Yugioh Ep 28: Valon Joins the Dead People Gang

So lately it’s been really freakin hot.

Like crazy freakin hot. I haven’t done anything productive because youknow--I live in a Covid hotspot and I’ve been quarantined for what feels like is 6 years, and then to continue the 10 plagues across America, now it’s just really freakin hot.

I was trying to go the hell to sleep when I heard this WIND outside my window at 2 AM. Just...WIND. It was like 5000 degrees outside, and then it started thundering, and then the lightning started hitting and I was like...wtf 2020, please calm down!

So I decided to check Twitter at 3 AM really fast just to make sure this wasn’t a freakin dream. Aaaaaaand Northern California had a Fire tornado warning.

3 words I never thought I’d see in conjunction. Fire tornado Warning.

and it hella dropped in Tahoe, y’all, it was freakin nuts. Meanwhile, Death Valley--the place where Yugi hella biffed it and died, if you don’t remember--hit 130 F (54.4 C, for the metric lovers in the back) so...it’s been a time for every part of California, and now we have some good ol fashioned rolling blackouts accompanied by 27 wildfires (yes, 27 fires) who have turned the sky into a yellow pea soup.

So because of the rolling blackouts (one of our power transformers exploded because of either the lightning or overuse, I dunno) at any point...my power might go out. Because of this, I didn’t feel like booting up Photoshop and so instead I’ll just...work on this.

...something about the Fire Tornado, the yellow shadow realm outside my window, and crazy lightning over San Fransisco reminded me that it’s been a HOT MINUTE since I’ve posted so lets get back to Yugioh. Somehow they knew that the doorway to hell was my back yard and you know what? They’re right. Completely believable and I wish someone would close the damn door.

Tristan read my mind that it’s been such a hot minute since I’ve checked in, that he mansplained a very quick summary of what the hell is currently happening to Tea Gardner.

A brave man, Tristan Taylor. A brave man to risk getting into a fight with Tea, who is the only Goliath on this show that exists without also being a paper card.

Which is when Pharaoh had some news.

I guess without Duke around, Pharaoh had to be the new Killjoy

(read more under the cut)

I exaggerate a little for the caps, but it’s kind of interesting that when Joey is usually on his own, it’s Yugi who’s certain that Joey is about to die and Pharaoh is the one that has to calm little Yugi down. But, when Yugi’s not there, I guess Pharaoh is just already in a Mood.

Mai is really weird this episode! I wish this season had gone into more detail about the extent of the Orichalcos’s mind control. Because Mai could very well be under it’s spell...or not...maybe it has no spell and they’re just falling for it like a placebo?

It’s not like the Orichalcos was ever put on anyone who was “good.” like if it were possessing someone nice like...

....

....(let me think about this, I’ll think of someone on this show who is a true lawful good.)

....

.................Dark Magician Girl, then I’d actually know if this Orichalcos actually IS different from how these characters actually are. But Mai was introduced in this series as a villain, and she’s always been around to bust balls, so it’s like...what part is Mai and what part is not?

Apparently a part that only shows up when Valon dies.

PS Valon turns a very quick 180 right before he died. I honestly thought I had skipped an episode or something because bro mentioned something about...Valon burning down a church or something...but I think that was a spicy headcanon where he mixed up this show with another anime.

I think. If I skipped an episode, y’all would tell me, right? I didn’t skip an episode?

I did skip the card games, however, so something about getting punched like 1000 times in the dick by Joey Wheeler taught Valon how to be human again, and the death that followed the 1000 dick punches inspired Mai to remember that Valon exists and that she Loves Him.

(just flat on his face)

I just...

I am going to give Yugioh this one. They have had so little in terms of relationships--I will give this to them. Good Job Yugioh, you did it. You had a relationship on your show. Sure, it was one where she...never seemed to like the guy at all, but hey--they actually did embrace...a corpse. Good on you, Yugioh.

Again, I have a really difficult time not cracking up about this very tragic moment a little bit because (and I have said this before about relationships on Yugioh), but I have never seen a TV show treat a straight relationship this way. I have never seen Straight Baiting before in my life and it is...WILD.

Also because Valon and Mai have both murdered I want to say hundreds of people at this point, it’s hard to feel too bad about them, although they are drawn as a very cute couple in how their outfits match. They got the finger less gloves, the belts hanging off their collar, the sleeveless outfit that is both too much clothes and too little clothes at the same time.

And like...I really like the idea behind Valon/Mai. I still think that was a good idea to build off of, I just wish that there was more of a sign from Mai that she had any idea that Valon existed prior to this. Because Valon had Orichalcos too, but he was fully able to love her--so what was happening on her end that prevented this? Was it just the amount that she hated Joey was so much more than her love for Valon? Was Valon actually more jealous of her hate of Wheeler and misinterpreted it as love?

Anyway it’s a billion degrees and I don’t have air conditioning so...I think we’ll have more time to think about this next episode. Maybe it’ll occur to me two weeks after this heat wave ends exactly what I am trying to grasp at when it comes to these two, but for now all I can say is...well it was nice.

Ah RIP Valon/tine (or at least I assume that’s the ship name). You lasted almost a whole season. You almost became a thing. I guess well find out if there’s redemption after he eventually gets resurrected.

And on this show we redeem resurrected people kind of a lot, so that seems reasonable. Sure it was a couple hundred people that he murdered but like...we redeemed Marik.

And then she goes back to wigging out like immediately. The flipping and the flopping of Mai Valentine in this episode is a lot.

And immediately after he says something along the lines of this, he follows with...doing this:

Joey! Valon just died so you wouldn’t have to duel Mai Valentine! He’s dead, Joey! Maybe try talking???

The thing about this show is that cards can both heal you and also destroy you, and the line between the two is just...rolling a dice and hoping you come out healed. Yugi played cards against Yami so that Yami could free himself from his guilt and move on--Valon was healed of Orichalcos control because Joey beat him at cards--Seto was “cured” of his more evil side because Yami mind wiped him in a card game--card magic is weird.

At the same time, Cards can take your soul in just So Many Ways--kind of one of the downsides. But, in a very round about way, maybe cards are kind of like therapy in this world. Maybe they don’t have therapy, and all these kids playing card games with eachother is metaphorical to how they all need eachother in order to push eachother to actually go through the steps of-

Ah, who am I kidding? They just really needed to have Mai lose at cards so they could write her off the show.

I do appreciate that the show never tells you that someone’s actions in the past mean they must rot for eternity. This show will never cancel anyone and say “burn that bridge, let’s go” but I feel like murder is...the line where you can just walk away?

But youknow if that were true of Joey wheeler he’d have no friends left.

During this time, The Yugioh crew was inexplicably lost while, for once in his entire life, Seto was going the correct direction.

Unfortunately, the lure to throw cards at thing was too much for him to go the right direction for very long. It is kind of funny to note that he is the smartest boy in Domino--so he knows you can drive through a hologram--but he just didn’t want to know if they were real or not, so he...didn’t.

Like I think that says a lot about Seto, and I’m sure the show-runners didn’t think about this at all, but he could have tested his theory right now. He could have just seen if these were real in order to know if he was crazy or not...but he’d rather be insane, than be involved with magic.

Anyways, Mai drops that Orichalcos.

Reminder that San Francisco is only 7-12 miles from one end to the other depending on what part of the peninsula you’re on.

But then again, they’re reading a map in Roman characters and these kids are school dropouts who only speak Japanese and maybe Spanish. Maybe they’re actually doing really, really well considering the language barrier?

Anyway that’s all for now I’m gonna go pass out and hopefully when I wake up it’ll be next week when it is no longer hot. If you just got here, this is a link to read these caps from the beginning!

https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yugioh/chrono

#yugion #ygo #photo recap #episode recap #yami muto #tea gardner #joey wheeler #tristan taylor #Valon #Mai Valentine #So much punching #Seto Kaiba shows up for 5 seconds #Mokuba too I guess #S4 #Episode 28

[crash-cinematic-universe]

Peter Maximoff is completely, utterly, and undoubtedly in love

pairing: Peter Maximoff/fem!bassist!reader

Summary: Peter had no idea a simple mission would change his life forever, He also had no idea how much he liked the bass guitar.

notes: fuck it. a series because I’m in love with peter maximoff

warnings: language, peter is a cute little bitch

________________________________________________________________  

        Peter knew the song even before he stepped inside the crowded bar, the bassline immediately ringing a bell in his mind. He smirked before pushing the doors open. 

        “That song,” he said, catching the attention of Hank who was standing close beside him. “It’s one of my favorites; Money by Pink Floyd.” Peter’s attention is turned to the bassist of the band on stage. His mouth goes dry, his eyes widening once the spotlight hits her. She looks ethereal in the stage lights, her eyes closed as her hands pluck the strings of her bass. She’s gorgeous, the look of concentration on her face going straight to Peter’s heart. He’s awestruck, and Hank notices.

        “Peter,” he calls, trying to catch the young man’s eyes. He fails. “Peter,” he calls again, snapping his associate out of his trance. “We’re here to find the mutant and bring them to Charles, we shouldn’t get” he pauses to glance at the bassist, “distracted.” 

        “I’m not distracted, Hank, I’m super professional and always have my eyes on the prize.” he says, the smug sarcasm dripping from his voice. The band switched from Money to Barracuda. He fought the urge to look at the bassist again. Hank sees his restraint and smirks.

        “Peter, if we find the mutant fast enough you might have a chance to meet her.” Hank turns away from the stage to order a drink. “Ya know, Charles said the mutant would be inconspicuous and well-hidden, so keep your eyes peeled.”

        “Uh, Hank,” Peter said, his voice uncertain. “I think I found the mutant.” Hank whips around and sees the bassist floating a foot above ground, her eyes shut in concentration. Her eyes snap open, and the irises are glowing a shimmering silver, someone in the crowd shouts, ‘mutant scum!’ and she lands on the ground. The young woman shares a look with her band mates as the bartender calls the police. The bassist nods, and the guitarist gives a loud strum of her instrument. The bassist’s eyes glow again and she seems to convert the sound to energy, pushing away the few audience members that tried to charge the stage. The band makes a break for the back door, the guitarist turning continuously producing sound that the bassist uses to create a barrier between the now wild crowd. 

        Peter quickly grabs Hank and runs out back, watching as the group jumps into an old van. They’re laughing, like this was a fun endeavor for them. Peter speeds into the back silently, trying desperately to duck behind the seats. Their instruments provide good cover-- at least good enough for now.

       “Holy shit, Y/n, that was insane!” the guitarist laughs. The bassist smiles. 

        “I didn’t even realize I was doing it, but hey, that's a helluva way to end our last performance.” the bassist speaks. Her name is Y/n. A pretty name for a pretty girl. The van is quiet for a minute before someone speaks up.  

        “So, Y/n, a couple cute faces in the crowd, huh?” the drummer teases. 

        “Oh, shut it, Danny, just because you can read minds doesn’t mean you know anything about me.” Y/n snaps playfully, a bashful blush on her face. It’s cute.

        “I might not know much, but you were thinkin’ pretty loud back there. Hey, I’m not judging, he was pretty cute. His hair was weird, but he was cute.” Danny smirks. 

        “Looks like you got some competition, Y/n” the guitarist retorts jokingly.

        “I’d never make a move, Cassie,” Danny says cooly, “He’s not my type, and Y/n called mental dibs on the silver cutie. Plus, he was totally into you too, his jaw practically dropped when he saw you.”

        “He was probably looking at Cassie,” Y/n defends, the blush lingering on her face.

        “I hope not,” Cassie sighs, “I’m tired of explaining my sexuality to people; asexual and aromantic, it’s not hard to understand.”

        “His thoughts were deafening, he was definitely checking out Y/n, but don’t worry. He wasn’t being creepy like the other guys usually are.” Danny smiles. “The guy with the weird hair was completely smitten, I think.”

        ‘Are they talking about me?’ Peter thinks. ‘My hair isn’t weird.’

        “It is,” Danny says suddenly. “It’s also weird that you’ve been hiding this whole time. C’mon out man, we won’t bite.” Peter slowly sits up, his head peeking out from behind the seats. No one seems shocked, besides the singer, who’s driving.

        “You’re like us, right?” Cassie asks. “A mutant?” 

        “Yeah,” Peter says hesitantly. “I, uh, came with a friend. We were looking for her,” he points at Y/n, “we didn’t know you were all mutants.” 

        “Charlie isn’t,” Y/n says, gesturing to the driver. “They’re just a killer vocalist.” Her voice is like music to Peter’s ears, her movements fluid and graceful and wonderful and Peter realizes that Danny was right. He was completely smitten with a beautiful stranger. Peter glances up and realizes that Danny was smirking at him before looking at Y/n once again.

        “Where’s your hot friend?” Danny asks, and Peter realizes he left Hank at the bar. Alone. 

        “Oh god,” Peter laughs slightly, “I left him at the bar. He’s… not very conspicuous.” 

        “You’re telling me,” Danny guffaws, “I almost lost control of my sticks once I saw him.” 

        “That’s not the only stick you lost control of,” Y/n mumbles and the van bursts out in thunderous laughter; including Peter. Y/n is oddly proud; she thinks his laugh is cute. Once the laughter died down, the bassist spoke again. “Why were you looking for me? I didn’t break any laws, did I?” Danny scoffs. “I didn’t break any more laws, did I?” 

        “No,” Peter says. He can’t believe he’s actually talking to her. And she’s talking back to him. And he feels like he’s going to pass out. “There’s a school in New York full of mutants. The headmaster got some info on you; he thought you’d be a valuable student to have. We came to ask if you’d be interested, but since all of you are mutants, all of you can come.” 

        Y/n glances at Danny. 

        “He’s telling the truth,” the drummer says. 

        “I’m in.” Y/n agrees without so much as a question. The band looks shocked. “Oh come on, where else would I go? We can’t live in this shithole forever, and just knowing that there’s a place where we’d be safe and accepted is enough for me.” Peter’s heart basically fucking explodes in his chest and he silently thanks the cosmic forces that she agreed. Danny hesitates before speaking. 

        “I’m in too. Y/n and I have been best friends since 4th grade, I’m not ditching you now. Plus, I have a bet to win” Danny smirks at Y/n before turning to Cassie. 

       “I don’t know…” she trails off, and Y/n silently begs her. Her eyes plead silently and Peter has a moment to study her features closely. She has a nose piercing and a plethora of ear piercings, her hair had streaks of wild colors in it and her eyeliner was smudged. One thought ran through his head constantly: she’s amazing. “Alright, let's do it!” Cassie agrees. Before anyone has a chance to ask Charlie, they speak up.

        “I can’t.” The van is silent. “You all know it. I just… won’t belong. Even if I wanted to go, I wouldn’t be able to.” Danny nods knowingly. 

        “You have a family to tend to, it wouldn’t be fair to steal you away--” Y/n shoots him a look. “-- again” The group laughs again, and the mood lightens. Suddenly, Y/n speaks up.

        “Hey Silver, what’s the school’s policy on small animals?” Danny and Cassie’s faces flash with realization, and the three of them shout in unison, “SEYMOUR THE SECOND!” 

        “Who?” Peter asks, completely confused. 

        “The light of my life, my pride and joy, my soulmate, my one true love...” Y/n rambles, and Peter’s heart drops with every word. She’s not single. “... my pet ferret.” oh. 

        “I’m sure Charles would make an exception for… Seymour.” Peter says hesitantly. “If not, I can always hide him for you”

        “Really? You’re the best, silver!” Y/n playfully punches him on the shoulder and Peter practically dies on the spot. 

        “Uh, what’s your name?” Cassie asks suddenly, and the gang realizes they’d been addressing him as ‘silver’ the entire time. “I’m assuming your name isn’t your hair color.”

        Peter chuckles, “No, my name is Peter, Peter Maximoff. My friend back at the bar is named Hank. Hank McCoy.”

        “Hank McCoy, hot damn, isn’t that a name.” Danny jokes. Y/n giggles at his antics, and the sound alone makes his heart skip.

        “So, you’re a telepath, you can manipulate sound, what about you?” Peter inquires, looking towards Cassie.

        “I can see the future.” Cassie says nonchalantly.

        “And you, Silver? What can you do?” Y/n asks, scooting a little closer to him.

        “Uh, I’m, uh, fast.” Peter smiles at the young woman's face lights up.

        “Oh god, here we go,” Danny groans despite the smile on his face.

        “You have super speed?” Y/n exclaims, her eyes scanning him up and down. “Do you have heat resistance? You probably also have some form of super strength, right? Depending on what you can do you could also have the ability to manipulate gravity and inertia, oh my god you’re so cool!” 

        At this point, everyone noticed the way Peter’s face flushed and the way his pupils dilated and the way his cheeky grin only grew when Y/n would gush over his mutation. Danny couldn’t help but smile at Y/n’s thoughts, her mind buzzing with admiration for the silver boy who snuck onto their van.

        The vehicle rolls to a stop and Charlie barely has enough time to unlock the van before Hank bursts in, grabbing Peter by the collar and pulling him out. Hank was blue again, and completely enraged. 

        “Are you insane!?” Hank shouts at the boy, now on the ground. “She could have killed you! Charles said the mutant was unpredictable and dangerous, you can’t just--” Peter cuts him off.

        “She’s not dangerous. She’s strong, sure, but not dangerous. If she wanted to kill me she would have, and so would Danny and Cassie and, hell, even Charlie.” Y/n climbed out the van and walked over to Hank, sticking out her hand.

        “Y/n L/n,” she grins, “that’s Danny Rodriguez and Cassie Mann, behind them is Charlie S’venstob.” Hank hesitates before shaking her hand, glancing over at the van full of young adults. Danny winks at him.

        “I’m not gonna kill Silver, or you, or anyone else, I can assure you that. He was telling us about a school, a place where mutants are welcome and accepted and embraced. We want in.” Hank turns to Peter, who is once again gazing at Y/n with a love struck film over his eyes. 

        “Well, uh, we were only looking for one mutant, but I’m sure Charles can accommodate three more.” Hank says, his voice unsure.

        “Two more,” Charlie says. “I’m not a mutant, and even if I was, I got a wife and a kid.”

        “Well, then, two more. We should go now, we’re already incredibly off schedule.” Hank says, flustered and confused and tired. The group returns to Charlie, wishing them a teary goodbye. Hank walks over to Peter as they all say farewell.

        “Peter, you just met her, you can’t go too deep too fast.” Hank warns. Peter just smiles a far away smile, his eyes trained on the mutant as she hugs Charlie.

        “Too late.”

#peter maximoff #xmen fanfiction #xmen #quicksilver #evan peters #days of future past #xavier's school for gifted youngsters #fanfic #peter maximoff x reader

[ficklefics]

Who Needs Enemies - Chapter Three: The First Night

It's never easy staying still. But soon enough, boredom will be the least of everyone's worries.

Jerome Valeska x Harleen Quinzel, Jeremiah Valeska x Harleen Quinzel

SERIES MASTERLIST ~ MASTERLIST ~ CHAPTER TWO

Warnings: Violence

Another month went by with no word from Jerome.

So I let myself relax. I’d done my part, now it’s time to wait.

A hot chocolate, a pile of blankets, Puddin’ by my side, and a dumb movie. A moment to sit back and not worry about the rest of the world for once.

Then the phone begins to ring.

I try to ignore it, letting it ring into silence. Then it starts again. Groaning in annoyance, I pick it up, ready to shout at whoever is disturbing my peace.

“What?” “It’s Jim Gordon.” I sit up, confused. “Hi, Jim. What’s up?” “Where are you?” He sounds panicked. Behind his voice, people are shouting. “At home…” “Jerome has escaped from Arkham.” It’s happening. “He broke out, along with Tetch and Scarecrow and hundreds of others.” “And you think he might come after me.” “Yes. You need to stay in your house.” A car door slams and an engine revs. “Lock the doors and windows, hide.” “Okay, I will.” Not. “Thank you.” “Stay safe.”

As soon as Jim hangs up the phone is ringing again. This time with a familiar number.

“Jerome!” “The one and only.” A grin bursts onto my face at the sound of his voice. “Where are you?” “About. Look, did you get the address?” “Yeah, hold on.” I scramble up from the sofa and upstairs to the study. There’s a file sitting there with everything I managed to find. “He owns a restaurant in the East Side.” “Perfect.” His smile is audible. “I’m coming to get you – just need to pay dear old Zach a visit.” “Okay. I’ll be ready.”

*

I’ve been ready for an hour. Puddin’ has plenty of food and water and I have a bag packed with some extra clothes. For once I’m dressed appropriately for going on the run: combat boots, jeans, and a sturdy leather jacket – no more uniforms.

Waiting was torture so I’m pacing up and down the stairs. Every creak of the floorboards makes me jump. I guess I’m a little on edge.

I don’t know what’s going to happen next. I can’t tell if I’m thrilled or terrified. Maybe both.

“Boo.”

I scream and spin around, striking the figure across the face. Jerome stumbles into the wall and clutches his now-red cheek. “Hello to you too.” His voice is hoarse. “Shit. I’m sorry.” I do genuinely feel bad, but I also can’t help giggling at the offence on his face. Luckily he sees the humour in it too – as always.

But when he stands up, his face entering the light, I gasp. His face and neck are burnt, coated with a sticky substance. Soup.

“I’m guessing that means you saw your uncle?” I try not to overreact. Knowing Jerome, he doesn’t care about the injuries. “Yup. But he was waiting.” “Maybe Jim got in contact – he called me right before you did.” “Oh really?” He tilts his head, eyes narrowing. “What did you tell him?” “That I would lock the doors and hide.” I narrow my eyes back at him. It’s impossible to tell what he’s thinking.

At least until he breaks out laughing. “Good for you, Harls. I’ll make a criminal out of you yet.” He steps closer and takes my face in his hands, but before he can lean in I pull back. He pouts, clearly frustrated. “I am not kissing you until you’re fixed up.”

I take his hand and lead the way downstairs to the bathroom, smirking at his childish whine of “Fine.”

After spending hours with the lights off, turning on the light to the bathroom is almost blinding. But it also reveals that Jerome’s burns aren’t as bad as they first appeared. I pull out a first aid kit and look up at him.

“You’re too tall.” “You’re too short.” He counters. “No, I mean… I can’t get a good angle.” “Here.” Without warning, he grabs my waist and swings me round to sit on the counter so we’re almost face to face. “Is that good enough?” “Just about.” I begin cleaning the burns – just like old times. They’ll heal quickly. Jerome stands between my legs, watching me work. “You know, I can treat things other than burns. I wouldn’t mind a bit of variety.” “Am I boring ya’, Harls?” “Not yet.” I wink at him. “But you should be careful.” “Not really my style.” “I noticed. Now, open.” I tap on his chin and he obeys, with a roll of his eyes. The inside of his mouth and throat are red and sore. I grab a spray and use as much as I dare, holding Jerome’s jaw so he can’t squirm away. He tries to speak but it comes out garbled. “What was that?” I tease. He grabs my hand and forces me to release his jaw. “We need to get going. The Hatter got into a bit of trouble.” “Well, you’re all done.” I close the box and slide it away from me. “Let’s go.”

But instead of stepping back, Jerome places his hands either side of me, keeping me on the counter. “I think you promised me something, Harls.” He growls, his eyes dark and a smirk on his face. “I think I might have.” I grin and press my lips to his, revelling in the feeling. His hands grab my neck, holding me close, burning hot against my skin. I let myself fall into the kiss, closing my eyes and forgetting everything else but Jerome. “I thought,” I murmur against him, “I thought we had to go.”

He groans but pulls away, letting me jump down. “Unfortunately, we do. But first,” I raise an eyebrow, “I need a new look.”

*

We meet Scarecrow at the side of a quiet road that passes under the train tracks. He greets us with a solemn nod, dark eyes examining Jerome and me. To be honest, he freaks me out. His piercing stare sends a shiver down my spine.

“So, what’s the plan?” “Stop the van, get rid of the driver, head to Penguin’s.” Jerome shrugs as though it’s simple. “It’s nice to know your planning skills… remain the same.” I roll my eyes. “Come on, Harls. Three of us versus one cop?” He throws an arm around my shoulder. “What could go wrong?” “Let’s remember that I’m the only one here who hasn’t been arrested.” My eyes shift from Jerome back to Scarecrow. “No offence.” “None taken.” He rasps.

I’m about to respond when Jerome grabs the collar of my jacket and pulls me into the shadow of the buildings. The van is here. It rumbles up the road, jolting and coughing smoke.

When it’s just about to reach us Scarecrow steps forward, a dark silhouette in the centre of the tarmac. The van screeches to a halt mere inches from him. The driver steps out, angry and confused, and is greeted with a spray of gas from Scarecrow’s glove. In an instant, his face is consumed by terror and he runs off screaming. Jerome and I join Scarecrow, rounding the side of the van. The doors swing open to reveal Jervis Tetch wearing a metal mask, his eyes wide with excitement.

Jerome hoists himself up surprisingly gracefully. “How’d you like the new threads?” Stepping forward, he begins to detach the contraption from Jervis’ face. “Aw, speechless, I know.” It pulls away with a hiss. Scarecrow climbs up through the doors and I follow him, trying to suppress the feeling that I am completely out of my depth. As Scarecrow steps around Jerome to speak to Jervis, Jerome turns and winks at me.

Jervis and Scarecrow are speaking to each other. Distracted by Jerome, I only manage to catch the end of Jervis speaking: “I must confess, pure joy in besting Jimmy boy with our ploy!” He giggles as he speaks – Jerome may be insane, but this man is unhinged. “Yeah, yeah, you did a great job keeping Gordon occupied.” Jerome waves a hand at him dismissively. “Meanwhile, Crane got his fear gas, I got my information and my girl.” Jervis and Scarecrow’s eyes both fix on me. Show no fear. “And everything is going according to my plan. But, no time to palaver gentlemen. We have fish to fry.” He does a half turn, then looks back at them. “And, by fish, I mean faces… or feet.” He seems to be thinking long and hard, then waves his arms with a laugh. “Something fun to fry!”

Jumping down, he offers me his hand and I take it – even though the slight jump is nothing – joining him on the ground. “Buckle up.” He slams the doors and leads the way to the front of the van. I sit myself in the driver's seat, ready to go. “Oh, no way. My turn to drive.” I roll my eyes but slide over anyway. “Honestly, you crash a motorbike one time and no one trusts you with a vehicle again.” “Seems reasonable to me.” I shove his shoulder. “All aboard!” The engine rumbles to life and we speed off, Jerome’s gleeful cackling trailing behind us.

*

We pull up outside of an old building beside a sign reading ‘St Ignatius School for the Gifted’.

“Hang on, I know this place.” I lean out of the passenger side door and look up at the familiar building. “You do?” “Yeah,” I glance back towards Jerome, “I was supposed to be transferring here before we left Gotham.” “You little genius, you.” He ruffles my hair condescendingly. “That means you can give us the tour.” “Why are we here?” “Revenge, Harls. Revenge.”

*

We leave Scarecrow behind to keep watch while Jerome, Jervis and I sneak through the hallways. Nothing has changed in the six years since I was last here – a few more awards in the display case maybe.

Soft light glows from under the door to the headmaster’s office.

Jerome kicks it open, making the man inside scream. “Please don’t hurt me!” He whimpers, backing into the corner and away from an open filing cabinet. “Oh, hush.” Jerome waves a hand dismissively. “You know why I’m here.” “No, no, I don’t.” He shakes his head, tears welling in his eyes. “Please just leave.” “You’re really making this more difficult than it needs to be.” Jerome pulls out a pistol and spins it by the trigger haphazardly. “Xander Wilde.” “I don’t know who you’re talking about.” “You know there’s no need for this,” Jervis interjects. “Yeah, but this is the fun way.” Jerome grins as he points the gun at the headmaster’s head, inducing another flood of tears. “Harleen, mind taking a look through that filing cabinet there?” “Sure.” I step forward and begin rifling through the files. “Xander Wilde?” He nods. “And I thought I had the prize for the weirdest name in Gotham.” “It’s a close competition.” Jerome chuckles. I find the file quickly and pull it out. “Good girl.” “Please just leave.” The headmaster begs. “Oh, we’ll be leaving. Just one more thing.” Jerome steps aside to make room for Jervis, who pulls out a pocket watch. As Jerome grabs the file from me and leads the way out, Jervis begins to speak.

*

“Anything to report?” Jerome calls to Scarecrow who’s skulking beside the van. “Nothing at all. I take it the mission was successful?” Jerome waves the file and winks. “More than. Let’s get going.”

As we get in, Jervis appears, joining Scarecrow in the back. “Are we good?” “He won’t be bothering us.” Jervis smiles through the wire separating us. The van speeds off again, this time in the direction of Penguin’s mansion. I can see the faint glow of dawn in the distance. Jerome tosses the file onto my lap and nods at it. I pick it up. “So who’s Xander Wilde?” “Just read it out.”

I flick it open. The first page holds all the basic information. Name, date of birth, parents, and so on. The space where there would normally be a photo is blank. “Xander Wilde, 24 years old. Started at the school fourteen years ago and graduated valedictorian. GPA of -” My eyes widen at the number. “- Oh shit. Wow.” “Keep going.” “Top of all his classes, teachers thought the world of him. Quiet, studious, perfect student by all accounts.” I make a face. “Can’t relate.” Jerome gives me a look which I return. “Don’t look at me like that; I was smart, not a good student.” “Sure.” He doesn’t sound like he believes me. “Where is he now?” “Ummm…” I rifle through the pages of reports, of straight A’s, of extracurriculars. “He went to college, graduated and now… He’s working for an engineering company, Meyer and Hayes.” I drop the file and frown at Jerome. “Who is this guy?” “Let’s just say he betrayed me.” He refuses to make eye contact with me. “And he’s going to regret that.” “Okay.” I shrug – there’s no point interrogating him. If it’s to do with his uncle, it must be something big. Realising how tired I actually am, I suppress a yawn. My eyelids begin to drop, and despite my struggles to stay alert, I find myself falling asleep.

*

The world around me is burning.

I’m trapped in a room with no doors or windows, surrounded by flame. As I spin round, panicking, looking for a way to escape, the walls start closing in. Slowly at first, but as they get closer they speed up.

“Help!” I scream. But there’s no one to hear. “Please!” I fall to the ground, my knees knocking against the floor. “I don’t want to die!”

“Harleen!” My head flies up at the somewhat familiar voice. “Hello?” “It’s me!” A figure in front of me. He’s silhouetted by the fire. “Please help me!” It doesn’t matter who it is. I need to survive.

He kneels down and his face is hit by light: Bruce. At the sight of him, I feel myself ache with guilt. Why is he helping me? Why is he so good?

“Come on.” He offers me his hand.

I reach out to take it, but before I can make contact a splitting pain shoots through me. It’s as though I’m being pulled apart.

“Bruce!” “Harleen!” This time it’s Jerome’s voice coming from Bruce’s mouth. The pain only gets worse. I fall to the floor, writhing in agony. “Harleen!” His voice is far away, and yet right beside me at the same time.

“Harleen!”

Someone is shaking me. My eyes snap open and I lash out. Jerome is prepared for the attack this time, grabbing my hand before it can make contact with his face. “We’re here.”

I look around, seeing that the sun has almost risen and we’re parked outside of the mansion. “Oh.” I try to rub the sleep from my eyes, but I’m still exhausted. “Did I snore?” “Only a bit.” Jerome chuckles. “What about talking?” Hopefully, my dream stayed inside my subconscious. I don’t want to explain that to Jerome. “Nothing really.” He frowns, almost worried, but I smile, trying to convince us both that everything is fine. “Cool. Let’s go.” I slide out of the van and stride into the mansion. It doesn’t take Jerome long to catch up. “Where did the others go?” He shrugs. “They’re about.” A tall man is standing waiting for us. “Mr Cobblepot has instructed me to show you to your rooms.” He’s stiff, clearly anxious in Jerome’s presence. “Look, you go ahead.” He squeezes my shoulders and pushes me forward slightly. “I need to talk to Penguin.” “But I want to help.” I protest – even though I know he’s right. “You’re no help if you’re snoring.” “Fine. Don’t get killed again.” “No promises.” I glare at him over my shoulder as I follow the man up the stairs until Jerome is out of sight.

When we get to the room, I say thank you and immediately lock the door.

Next, the curtains. No light allowed.

I dump my bag on the bed and pull out a top, changing quickly and collapsing into bed, letting sleep overwhelm me.

CHAPTER FOUR

#jerome valeska #jeremiah valeska #harleen quinzel #gotham #jerome valeska x harleen quinzel #jeremiah valeska x harleen quinzel #joker #the joker #harley quinn

[katehuntington]

Title: Changes - part ten Word count:  ±3300 words Summary “Changes”: Huntress Zoë Sullivan (OFC) crosses paths and swords with the Winchesters, when the brothers stumble on a case she’s already working. When complications arise, they are forced to work together. Summary part ten: Zoë wakes up in the dark, under ground and finds the victims she was looking for, but will they be able to get out of the grim situation. Episode warnings: Dark! NSFW, 18+ only! Angst, gore, violence, character death. Description of blood, injury and medical procedures. Demon possession, supernatural creatures/entities. Smut, swearing, alcohol use/addiction. Kidnapping, mentions of torture and murder, illegal/criminal practices. Mentions of nightmares and flashbacks.  Author’s note: I super excited to share Supernatural: The Sullivan Series. There are quite a few people I want to thank: @coffee-obsessed-writer, @soupornatural & @mrswhozeewhatsis, who edited the early drafts, and my girls @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish and @winchest09 who are deciphering the recent version. Everyone who encouraged me to go for it, you are awesome!

Supernatural: The Sullivan Series Masterlist 01x01 “Changes” Masterlist

     Slowly, Zoë regains consciousness and opens her eyes. Not that it makes much of a difference, she still can’t see a damn thing. A disturbing smell fills her nostrils, a mixture of rotten remains and sewer waste causing her to gag. She wouldn’t be surprised if that’s what is actually causing the stench.       She rubs her face and groans, then pulls her hand back. Her fingers feel sticky, she recognizes the substance just by feeling it. The huntress blinks a couple of times in an attempt to drive the splitting headache away, licking her lips and tasting the metallic taste of blood on them. Where the hell is she and what the fuck happened?       Tentatively, she explores her surroundings by touch, feeling three walls and eventually prison bars; she’s trapped. Then she hears soft wailing in the distance.      “Anyone there?” she calls out.      “Y-yes.”      Zoë curses internally; shit. Her question is answered by a child.       “Are you okay?” Zoë asks, friendly.      “No,” she sniffles.      “What’s your name, sweety?”      “I’m Lizzy--”      “-who are you?”       A female voice, much older than the young girl she was just talking to, bounces off the concrete walls.      “I’m Zoë,” the huntress answers, leaving her false names out this time. “Are you Michelle?”      “Yeah.”

     Zoë closes her eyes and sighs. It’s Terry Cliffer’s wife, and she’s assuming Lizzy is short for Lisbeth, their daughter. Wild guess her little brother, who she remembers to be three years old from the records, is stuck here as well. The fear and hopelessness is evident in their voices. Who knows how long they have been down here. Damnit, this is even worse than she expected. They are trapped God knows where and if she herself doesn’t even know where she is, the police surely aren't gonna find them either. For a moment, she regrets sending Sam and Dean away. She hates to admit it, but she could use their help right now.

     “Are we the only ones in here?” Zoë asks the family.      “No.”       The huntress peers into the dark, trying to distinguish where the male voice came from.      “As far as we know, there are seven of us down here, including the children. But some haven’t responded in a while.”      Zoë grinds her teeth, swallowing thickly. Some haven’t responded? She knows what that means. Fuck, she’s too late, isn’t she?       “Let me guess; you’re Neil O’Brien?” She folds her fingers around the iron bars and opens her eyes wide, hoping to be able to see some shapes in the pitch dark place. “And the others, Nadia Milton and Cole Richards?”      “How do you know that?”      Zoë chuckles, finding what she’s about to say rather ironic. “I was looking for you.”      “No offence, but good job,” the guy comments.      “People are looking for us?!”       Zoë hasn’t heard the female voice before, but she knows it’s Nadia.      “No, just me,” Zoë corrects, honestly.      “Not much hope for us then,” Neil concludes, depressed.       “I’ll get us out of here.” 

     Zoë gets up determined. Her eyes are getting used to the dark, but she still can’t make out faces in the other cells. She takes a bobby pin from her hair, folds it into a lock pick, then begins to work on her escape.      “Did you see it?”       It’s Neil who asks. The fact that he uses the word ‘it’ indicates that he already realizes that their kidnapper is not human. Zoë decides to tell them the truth.      “I fought the bastard,” she corrects, continuing to work concentrated.       “You know what it is then?”       “Yeah, I know what it is.” 

     The final pin lines up inside the lock and it springs free. Zoë kicks the iron door open and stumbles out, the slight dizziness catching her by surprise. Thin, fragile beams of moonlight fall through small holes in the ceiling; it looks like the lid of a manhole. Now that her eyes are adjusted to her dark surroundings, she can make out shadows. She’s standing in a small space, cages on either side. She searches the walls, but she can’t see anything that might indicate a staircase or another way out. While she examines the place she woke up in, she answers his question.

     “It’s a shapeshifter. A creature that is able to mimic and change into other people, looking exactly like them,” she explains.      Nadia whimpers. “This is insane.”       “You saw it yourself,” Neil snaps.      “Hey, fighting won’t help.” Zoë breaks up the argument before it can even kick off, as she kneels down by the cell across from hers.      With the makeshift lockpick, the huntress tries to open the cage which holds the Cliffer family. Lizzy, a girl with messy curls, clamps her tiny hands around the bars while she watches Zoë work. Tears glisten in her eyes, the faint light from above barely catching them.      “Are you going to save us?” she whispers.      “I’m gonna try my very best, honey,” Zoë returns, smiling softly.

     She continues with the task at hand, unlocks the door and moves on to the next cell. While adjusting the bobby pin slightly before testing the spring-loaded pens, it dawns on her what Neil said earlier.       “You mentioned there are seven people down here. Who’s the seventh?”       “We don’t know. A big guy. He arrived just before you did,” he says.

     Flakes of memory fall through the creaks in the roof that is her mind, finally forming a picture of what exactly happened in the hours prior to waking up. She remembers Sam, right before he struck her down. Not the real Sam, of course, but if the shifter took his disguise, then where is the younger Winchester brother?       The lock clicks, the barred door opening and freeing the remaining victims from their cages. She turns to Neil.      “Where is he?” Zoë asks, sternly.      The young guy covered in filth, nods to the side. “In the cell next to yours.” 

     Without replying, she quickly moves to the cage that accommodates the hunter. Frantically she works the lock. When it busts, Zoë hastens inside and finds Sam on his back, unconscious. She checks his vitals, relieved to feel a steady pulse drum against her index and middle finger. His chest rises under her palm; he’s breathing. When she wipes his hair out of his face, she feels broken skin above his temple; seems like she wasn’t the only one who received a blow in the head.      “Sam, can you hear me? Wake up, Sasquatch,” she tries, frustrated.      Careful not to shake him or worsen his injuries otherwise, she sits with him, hoping her voice will get through. It takes a while, but eventually he starts to show signs of coming to.      “Zoë?” he mumbles, voice raspy.       She creates distance by sitting back on her heels. “Yeah, it’s me.”       “Did you just call me ‘Sasquatch’?”       “Well, you are ridiculously tall,” she scoffs. “Glad I didn’t have to drag your ass out of this place. Could’ve broken a nail.”

     The hunter pushes himself up, chuckling at her wit. “Damn, I’m glad to see you.”      “Well, don’t be. I’m just as trapped as you are,” she sighs.      “You two know each other?” Neil asks from his cell.      “Yeah, we’re sort of… colleagues, I guess,” Sam declares, still drowsy.      They get on their feet, but the younger Winchester brother has trouble keeping his balance and leans against the steel bars, the huntress stepping in to support him.      “Easy. You alright?” Zoë checks.      “Yeah, just a headache,” he grunts, trying to chase the black spots from his vision.

     “When did that slithering bastard capture you?” she wonders, trying to make sense of the timeline.      “I was at Beetle's Bar to back you up, but I guess I got made. It overpowered me right after I parked the car a few blocks away. That's all I remember,” Sam explains.      For a second she considers yelling at him for meddling with her case again, but what’s the use? It’s not Sam’s fault he got snatched, the shifter figured it out even before either of them showed up at the bar.      She huffs. “Damn, that lizard is sneaky. Where’s Dean?”      “At our motel,” Sam admits.      “Okay, good. He’s still in town. You’re missing, so he will come and look for you in - what - a few hours, right?” she assumes, hopeful.

     Sam steps out into the moonlight. Zoë can see the blood has found a way down the side of his face and turned the collar of his shirt red. She also notices the guilty expression on his face.      “Not likely,” he admits.      Zoë frowns at the confusing answer, already annoyed. “Why not?”       “I was gonna stay out because he had a girl over for the night,” Sam admits.      Stunned she stares at him. A girl? She feels the anger building in her chest and takes a moment to collect herself, instead of unleashing her wrath.      “You’ve got to be fuckin’ kidding me,” she hisses, keeping her voice down for the sake of the children. “You’re telling me that Dean is fucking some chick while we’re stuck in this dungeon?”      Sam looks up at the lid and frowns.      “Actually, this doesn’t seem to be a dungeon. I think we’re in the septic tank,” Sam corrects.       Zoë throws him a death glare, stepping closer intimidatingly. Now might not be the best time for the brains of the Winchester operation to better her terminology.      “Let me rephrase that. You’re telling me that Dean is fucking some chick while we’re stuck in this shithole!?"      “Yeah, that pretty much sums it up,” Sam admits, smiling awkwardly.      “Wonderful.” 

     She walks back and forth between Sam and the bars, trying to come up with a way to get out, until the soggy and squishy sounds under her feet cause her to halt. Disgusted, Zoë looks down at her boots, realizing all this time she has been standing, sitting and laying in--      “- shit.”      She retches and coughs; it does explain the smell.       “This is disgusting,” she mutters, needing to get out of the cage when she starts to feel sick.      “It gets worse,” Sam adds. “When the shifter attacked me, it looked like you. Good chance that thing used the same disguise to ambush Dean.”      Zoë turns her head slowly and stares at Sam, her jaw agape and her eyes wide in shock.      “Well, there goes my reputation of a good civilian,” she deadpans.

     As their problems pile up, the Cliffer family emerges from their cage, afraid like hunted deer. Lizzy, probably not even six years old, steps into the dim light. The poor little girl looks like she’s about to burst into tears, her dress dirty, her big eyes shimmering. Zoë helps out Michelle, who’s weakened by the days of malnutrition. She has a younger boy by her hand, who is crying silently.       Concerned, Zoë exchanges a look with Sam. There's empathy in her eyes, her need to care for the victims evident in them; something Sam hasn’t seen before. He understands, though; they need to get these people out fast, they’ve been through way too much. Sam searches his pockets for his phone.      “You won’t find it, he took mine as well as everything else I was carrying,” she discourages.

     “Zo, the shifter took my form first, then yours, so it copied our memories. It knows Dean and I were staying at the Deep Purple Inn, room number 301, everything,” he recalls. “If that thing went after my brother, disguised as you...”       Sam breathes in slowly and exhales; there’s no need to finish the sentence. Good chances are that Dean is in as much trouble as they are. 

     While crossing her arms in front of her chest, she brainstorms. They need to get in touch with Dean, or with anyone else in the outside world, but how? There is nothing here that can be used to draw attention and increase their chances of being found. Screams will only carry so far in these backlands. The situation is grim. If the shifter manages to trap or kill Dean, it's a possibility no one will access this property in months, maybe even years. A slow death by starvation might be the only fate that lays ahead. She swallows apprehensively; this is not how she planned to go out. 

     She looks back at the younger Winchester brother, noticing how something inside one of the cells has caught his attention.       “What is it?”      He nods at the cage and she peers through the bars, her eyes landing on another victim, collapsed against the wall with his eyes closed. Without hesitation Zoë opens the door, rushes inside and kneels down next to the seemingly lifeless body. The doctor she’s supposed to be surfaces, as she checks for vital signs.

     “Pulse is low and he's cold to the touch; he's hypothermic.” She turns to Sam. “Give me your jacket.”      He quickly takes it off and hands it over, then watches worriedly how she covers his torso with the only warmth they can offer. The victim moans weakly, but doesn’t exactly come to.      Sam looks back at the others. “Who’s this guy?”       “It’s Cole, he got here first,” Nadia answers.      “When was that?” he asks.      “I guess about ten days ago, I got here second, two days later,” she tells him, leaning against the doorframe.      “Did it feed you or anything?” Sam wonders.      “Not exactly, but the place floods when it rains. It’s all we have,” she explains.

     Sam shakes his head slowly, not believing what he’s hearing, and looks over at his colleague who is still by Cole’s side. This situation is heading from bad to worse. Cole needs help and he needs it fast, he doesn’t have much time.      “Is this Dean you talked about going to save us?” Michelle wonders.      Zoë looks over her shoulder at the mother of two, then up to Sam. The huntress can tell he’s conflicted; he wants to stay positive, but he wouldn’t be telling the truth if he promised that his brother will be here soon. So Zoë decides to respond for him.      “I’m not gonna lie to you, I don’t think so,” Zoë admits.      “So what, we’re stuck here? What if that shapeshifter thing comes back?” Neil exclaims.      “We’re all together in this,” Sam states, remaining calm. “We will figure something out.”      “Can’t we just knock him down when he shows up? Two men like us can handle him, right?” the clueless man proposes.

     Zoë scoffs as she gets to her feet. Not amused and feeling excluded, she’s ready to prove to him that women can fight just fine. Sam moves his arm in front of her and answers before she snaps.      “No, you’d need a silver bullet to kill him. He doesn’t show pain for anything else,” he explains. “Plus, he is much stronger than us humans. It would be impossible to overpower him.”      “We can’t just wait and see what happens! I don’t wanna die!” Neil freaks out.      “Could you keep it down? You’re scaring my children.” Michelle pulls Lizzy close, the little girl clinging to her mother’s leg.      “No, I can’t keep it down! I’ve been down here for week and I’m starving, and I—”      “Hey!” Zoë grabs his collar, stopping his rant. “Shut up!”      “Don’t tell me to--”  he bites back, but she shushes him and tilts her head to hear better.

     Now that it’s quiet in the tank, they can all hear a low rumble of a running engine. It’s origin is still distant, but seems to be steadily approaching.      “I know that sound,” Sam comments.      Zoë recognizes it, too. She could pick it out of a line up of a thousand motorcycles.     “It’s my Dave.”       The hunters exchange a look, considering the options in silent communication. The fact that the Harley Davidson just entered the property, doesn’t necessarily mean they are out of the woods. For all they know, the shapeshifter could have shed again, assumingly having copied Dean’s body.      “Everyone back in their cell!” Sam orders.      “That son of a bitch is riding my bike,” Zoë mutters, receiving a glare from the younger Winchester, since it definitely isn’t the most important matter right now.      All close the doors and hide in their cage. The engine above ground is killed, total silence all that is left. Quietly, they listen to the footsteps above them, Sam and Zoë concerned and ready for combat, the rest full of fear.       “Sammy?!”      It’s Dean. It sounds like Dean, at least.      “Sam! Zoë!?” his voice echoes over the terrain.      Zoë glances at the young hunter, tensing up. Then she nods.       “Dean! We’re down here!” Sam yells at the top of his lungs.      Moonlight coming through the small holes above them is blocked from entering the tank. The cover shifts with a screeching sound and Dean’s silhouet appears through the round hole in the ceiling.      “I noticed the ‘D’ projected on the beautiful clear sky this evening, thought you might need some help,” he jokes.      “You’re not Batman, Dean. Get us out,” Sam responds.      “How many of you are down there?” he asks.      “Eight.”       “Alright, let me get the rope and a flashlight from the trunk. I saw the car parked up front, be right back.”      The figure that has such a resemblance to Dean disappears again, leaving a heavy silence.      “Follow my lead,” Zoë whispers to Sam.      It doesn’t take long for their rescuer - or kidnapper - to return, because a minute later a rope falls down through the sewer drain. He aims a flashlight down the tank and focuses on Zoë’s face for a moment.      “Good to see you, too. Awkward, but good,” he admits, that trademark smirk on his lips.      “Do I wanna know?” Zoë comments. “Get your ass down and free us already.”      He shines the light on the others down the tank.      “Don’t worry, people. You’ll be out in no time,” he assures, then lowers himself down into the septic tank.

     His feet haven’t even reached the ground yet, before he feels Zoë’s tight headlock around his neck. She pulls him off the rope and throws him on his back, overpowering him in a blink of an eye and landing on top. Sam quickly picks up the torch and shines the bright light in his brother’s eyes. They don’t flash white; Zoë still stares down the pair of emerald green irises, holding his wrists over his head with one hand, pinning him down. It's not enough proof for her yet, because she jerks Dean's pocket knife from his belt and carves the unexposed skin on his forearm until blood becomes visible. He flinches and lets out a gasp.      "Ow! You bitch!” he curses, eying her furiously as he pulls his arms free.      In response she punches his chest, warningly, an ‘umph!’ escaping Dean’s throat.      “I told you not to call me that. I had to be sure,” Zoë counters, not even bothering to apologize.

     Stunned, he eyes her while catching his breath, which proves to be difficult, since the huntress has a powerful grip on him with her thighs.      “You get a real kick out of torturing me, don't you?”       “Don't be such a baby. You're definitely Dean, though,” she huffs, crossing her arms in front of her chest while judging him.      “Oh, shut up,” Dean returns, already done with her smart talk, before he redirects his gaze to his brother. “You okay, Sammy?”      Sam smiles, deciding not to correct his brother on the nickname for once.       “I’m okay. Good to see you made it in one piece.”      “Likewise. Now you--” Dean returns his glare to Zoë, who’s still sitting on his stomach, and shoos her. “- get off me. I already had you all over me tonight.”      Zoë furrows her brow puzzled, wondering what he means by that, but stands up and allows him to do the same.       “You have a phone?” Sam asks.      “Yeah, I already called 911,” he informs and turns to the others. “Now, let's get you people out.”

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to reblog my work or buy me coffee (Link in bio at the top of the page).

Read part eleven here

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[yehet-me-up]

Freestyle

Pairing: Jongin/Kai x reader (female)

Word Count: 22,168 

Rating/Warnings: (M) for swearing + modest sexy times + brief mentions of violence and abusive relationships.

Summary: The front desk job at the KOKO Exercise Studio was supposed to be your fresh start, somewhere new to escape the past. If only your ex-fiancé could take the hint. When he starts invading your life once again, stopping by constantly, the last person you would have expected comes to your defense. The edgy, brooding dance teacher Jongin is definitely not how you imagined your Prince Charming, but he might prove to be just the man you need.

Part six of the Exodus Mall series (Can be read independently, but you’ll get some extra backstory if you read the other parts first!)

Monday January 13th, 1997

The phone rings on the far side of the desk, buried beneath a stack of papers. The hum of conversation in the room from people waiting to go into exercise classes and heading into the gym is so loud that you don’t even hear it at first.

Paige looks up from where she’s explaining the aerobics schedule to someone. ‘Liz, could you grab that? Thanks.’

The use of your old nickname takes a second for you to register and you’re glad it’s so busy that your new boss doesn’t notice.

‘Got it!’ You nod to the person in front of you, an older man, and take his signed liability waiver from him with a smile.

‘Thank you Mr. Albertson, Jazzercise is just down the hall. Second door on your left, starting in fifteen minutes. Have fun!’ Adding the paper to the disorganized stack on the counter, you dash to the end of the desk and pick up the phone.

‘KOKO Exercise Studio. Liz speaking, how can I help you?’ your voice is hurried to your ears and you take a deep breath to slow your heart rate.

The person asks when the next Intermediate Hip Hop class is and you dig through the pile of papers on the desk the schedule. You spot it at the far end of the dark wood desk and reach for it.

Just as your hand closes on the paper you stretch an inch too far and the phone cord exceeds its limit, tugging the receiver off the counter with a loud crash that makes you wince. Blessedly, the customer is still on the phone and you sit on the floor and read off the schedule, trying to hide your chuckle at the sheer insanity of how busy things are.

A man comes behind the desk, one of the dancer instructors, you think. As you speak to the customer you become acutely aware of him and the neutral expression on his handsome face as he takes in you on the floor, the mess around you.

The loose grey sweatpants and a white tank top he wears show off his bronzed skin and toned muscles to an absurd degree. The way he moves, gracefully, power contained in his limbs, somehow makes him look like both fire and water as he prowls next to you.

He looks at the paper in your hands, reading the CLASS SCHEDULE title and motions for it. The crease in his forehead deepens, making you feel foolish and causing you to stutter into the phone.

After looking at it for a beat he hands the paper back to you. He gives you a raise of his brow, the deep brown of his eyes betraying no emotion other than boredom. The way he watches you reminds you faintly of the person who caused you to move to Seattle and you feel your defenses rise in response.

With a glance at the line out the door, he leaves. The air still feels charged from his presence. Electric, the way it does during a rainstorm when lightning is imminent.

Gee, thanks for the help you think, shaking your head before being drawn back into the conversation with the person on the phone.

As soon as you hang up you fix the phone and get started organizing the papers on the counter while you help the next customer with a friendly smile.

Over the course of the day you and Paige alternate handling the endless calls and tackling the steady stream of customers walking in for classes and gym passes. It’s only your fourth day of work, but thankfully you can tell that the New Year’s rush of people attempting to set new fitness resolutions is slowing down.

Someone else might be stressed out by the non-stop work - the tide of paperwork, the scheduling to catch up on after the previous front desk admin quit without notice just after Christmas - but not you. All of it helps with the aching emptiness that has taken up residence in your heart.

Over the course of the last two weeks you’ve moved to Seattle with your older sister, both found places at the Exodus Mall that were hiring, interviewed, and started work. Two weeks passed in the blink of an eye.

On Friday Paige told you she didn’t want to see any other candidates. With your experience with reception at a dance studio in Tacoma you were a perfect fit. She begged you to start that day and it’s been non-stop since.

All of it provides a steady hum of things to do; a hum that distracts your mind and your body from what, and who, you left behind in Tacoma.

No. Left behind is too subtle a phrase to describe it. It implies that you and your sister, at twenty-one and twenty-six, decided to move onto better things in the ‘big city’ of Seattle. Two young women ready to take on the world.

As if. Your life is as far from Friends as it’s possible to be.

Escaped might be better to describe how everything went down. Fled would also work.

In a lull after the seven o’clock classes start you look up from the desk to the busy parking lot, drawn by something in your peripheral vision. You watch as a man walks by, his face buried in the collar of his jacket against the cold.

He turns quickly and carries on, getting lost among the cars. But something about his walk, the cut of his hair, sends a jolt of fear through you.  

No, it can’t be you reassure yourself. There’s hundreds of men in Washington who look like Michael. Brown hair and leather jackets over red plaid shirts in the nineties are a dime a dozen.

You shake your head, forcing yourself to focus on filing away membership forms, as if you can keep your ex from finding you through sheer force of will.

The sense of unease stays with you throughout the rest of your shift; a chill on the back of your neck that you just can’t shake. Finally, ten o’clock rolls around and you head into the mall to meet your sister. You wave good night to Paige and share an amused sigh at how busy the day was.

Your steps echo in the wide open space, reaching up to the expansive glass dome that forms the ceiling of the mall. A few shops are still closing down for the day. Distant laughter reaches you from the pizza parlor to the right and the opening chorus of ABBA’s ‘Dancing Queen’ is playing from the bookstore near the other end.

These sounds should reassure you; help you feel less alone, less… exposed, out here in the open. But they don’t. All you can feel is the looming threat of your ex surrounding you.

Angry tears prick at your eyes as you stand still in the middle of the marble floor. You wipe at them with the edge of your sleeve and take a steadying breath before carrying on.

While you walk towards the mall daycare you start trying to calm yourself down, pulling out affirmations like they are life rafts that can keep you afloat.

I am safe. He can’t hurt me. I am safe. He won’t find me. I am safe…

Unbidden, images cloud your memory, wiping out the brief sense of calm the words had started to lend you.

Cleaning up a gash in Michael’s forehead after a fight, in the front seat of his Camaro. Still cursing, so fired up he hardly seems to even notice the blood dripping into his eyes. The rank smell of his sweat mixed with the alcohol on his breath as angry words fall from his lips.

The way he doesn’t meet your eyes whenever he gets back in the car after ‘just ducking in to say hi’ at his friend Leroy’s house. The way his hand never leaves his pocket while he drives, as if he’s protecting something worth more than gold.

His unfocused eyes and slurred voice; his weight and the stale smell of cigarettes when he presses you against the door of his room. The panic and uncertainty whenever he wants to sleep together that slowly turn into acquiescence for fear of upsetting him.

The gnawing doubt that eats at your stomach as he grows less like the man you fell in love with in high school each day.

His behavior had turned increasingly erratic as Fall turned into Winter and finally, two weeks ago - the party that was the end of it all.

Red and blue lights, flashing on the grass in front of you. The wail of sirens and sharp male voices. The sight of Michael on the lawn, gun in his hand, pointed at a man you don’t know; an all too familiar sight.

His friend Lucas’ harsh command, telling you to run. The desperation in his eyes as a cop pins him to the grass.

The tight line of betrayal that forms on Michael’s lips as a cop puts handcuffs on him, when he realizes you’re leaving him behind.

The way blood rushes in your ears, sounding like the distant Pacific Ocean, as you flee home on foot through backyards and tree lined roads.

‘Hey, ready to go?’ Your sister’s bright, happy voice draws you from your memories, so close and real they feel suffocating.

The warm, comforting mall feels a million miles away from where you stand, struggling under the weight of what had happened.

You blink and focus on her. A smile still tugs at the corner of her lips, lingering amusement from working with kids all day; remnants of joy you hate to rob her of with the ever-present ghost of your past.

When you meet her eyes she immediately knows something is wrong. She steps closer, reaching out to gently rest her hand on your shoulder.

Her brow furrows in concern, looking around and stepping closer, protecting you on instinct. ‘What’s wrong? What happened?’

You swallow and will strength into your limbs. ‘Nothing. I’m fine, just… remembering.’ With a shake of your head you come back to yourself. ‘I thought I saw Michael outside today.’

Without a word she draws you into her arms, sheltering you from the world as she always has. You drop your head to her shoulder and let yourself be comforted.

For so long you tried to handle it on your own, ashamed to tell her about all the things Michael had been getting into. It started slowly.

Just after you turned eighteen a friend needed him to bring ‘a package’ to someone.

Then, the year after, the fights had started; the mysterious scratches and bruises. The suspicion at everything and everyone that never left his eyes.

The gun you found in his glove compartment while looking for a napkin after getting ice cream on your twentieth birthday. The fight that followed. The days he spent ‘winning you back’ after you left him in the Baskin Robbins parking lot to walk home afterwards.

The way he’d duck down in the driver’s seat when he took certain side streets, some of the only times his eyes had been clear and focused.

The increasing aggression he showed you with his words, his rules; his hands grasping you tightly as if he was afraid you’d leave. ‘You’re the only thing keeping me sane.’

‘Do you want to talk about it?’ your sister asks gently, rubbing your back the same way your mother did when you had the flu in fifth grade.

‘How did this get to be my life?’ you mumble sadly against her shoulder. ‘No. I don’t want to let him ruin my day.’

‘How about we go and get some shakes?’ she asks in a cheerful voice, pulling back. ‘They always help.’

The emotion in her eyes lets you know she’s just as affected as you are by thoughts of your old life. Her determination to stay positive is the life raft you cling to for normalcy.

‘That would be great,’ you answer and stand straighter, forcing yourself to be in a good mood.

She nods and grabs your hand in hers, guiding you along through the mall. As you make your way to the car she tells you all about the sweet and funny little kids she watched today at her new job at the mall daycare to distract you.

You listen as best you can, rubbing a hand to your stomach, feeling the pit there grow as it always does when you think about him.

Sure, in the beginning Michael was everything you wanted. Tall, handsome, older. He’d hung out with the cool kids at a rival high school. He made you feel special, beautiful, desirable. From the moment his eyes locked on yours in an adjacent line at the Dick’s Drive-In on Broadway, you were a goner.

After he got arrested on New Year’s Eve you’d burst in the back door, still breathing heavily after your desperate run and shaking from the winter cold. You scared the crap out of your sister who was reading on the couch.

For three hours you sat at the dining room table and told her everything you’d kept hidden from her the past few years. Like a poison that had buried itself in your veins, telling her the whole truth felt like the only thing to do, the only way you could feel clean and whole again.

Her words from two weeks ago echo in your head as she orders two shakes at the burger joint down the street from the Exodus Mall.

‘We’re leaving,’ she says, mouth pulled tight into a line.

‘Leaving?’ you ask in confusion, wiping at the tears drying on your cheeks.

Of all the reactions you’d expected - yelling, crying, hurt that you’d lied to her for so long - this calm and decisive reply throws you.

‘Right now. Pack whatever you need. I’m not letting him drag you down anymore. I’ve known something wasn’t right for a while,’ she says, holding one of your hands in both of hers, brows drawn together in dismay. ‘I’ve been so busy with work and school I didn’t push as much as I should have. I’m so sorry.’

The sad look on her face breaks a dam within you and you pull her into a tight hug. ‘It’s my fault. I didn’t say anything, I wasn’t sure what I’d do without him,’ you say, voice cracking, and press your face against her long hair. ‘I’m so scared.’

She clears her throat and there’s determination in her voice when she speaks. ‘We’re getting out of here, okay?’

Your eyes go wide, your heart wants to object. For months, years really, you’ve known Michael was headed nowhere good, but still you love him. In the naive, blindly optimistic way can’t help with him.

‘He’ll come here looking for you, once he’s out on bail, won’t he?’ she asks, pulling back and giving the most intense stare you’ve seen since the time you stole one of her Barbies.

He’s obsessed. You know this, even though you badly wish you didn’t. He says you’re his only tie to the world. If you don’t leave now he’s going to drag you all the way down with him. ‘Yes.’

‘Do you want to be here? Or do you want out?’

Fresh tears pool in your eyes and you blink through them, rubbing your palm with your thumb, desperately wishing you could somehow take Michael with you and start over.

But by now you know he’s never going to change, and the only choice left is whether you want to go down with him.

‘I just want us to be happy again. I want to feel safe.’ Your voice is so small you’re surprised she can even hear you, but like always, she does.

She nods, kneels down next to your chair and gives you another hug hug. ‘Leave it to me.’

After losing your parents you’d thought nothing could make you feel so lost and small again, but that familiar feeling rose up in you as you watched your sister. The only thing that gave you hope was the way you two worked like a team that night.

As 1996 gave way to 1997 she’d squeezed your hand and given you a reassuring smile and then you two got to work.

Despite the late hour she’d called a friend from college and arranged for the two of you to move into her spare bedroom in Seattle that morning. You packed up your things - clothes, books, photos - everything you could squeeze into your sister’s Camry.

The two of you knocked on Mrs. Jenkins’ door in the early hours of the morning and explained you were leaving and why. Blessedly, she’d understood and said she’d handle the furniture you were leaving behind and close out your lease early with no charge. She’d kindly forced you both to eat some pancakes before you took off.

By the time the sun came up on the first day of the new year you were driving off to Seattle.

Nothing about your life feels familiar any more, but you’re here. You have a job you like. The friend of your sister’s you’re living with is incredibly warm and kind, and her apartment is cute and welcoming.

Sharing a bed with your sister is delightfully reminiscent of your childhood. So is going by Liz, from your favorite Jane Austen book growing up.

Besides, your sister’s right - the shakes do help. You smile at the comforting taste of chocolate and attempt to put Michael, Tacoma, and the past behind you.

Tuesday January 14th, 1997

You wake to the sound of your bedroom door closing softly. Blinking, you look at the clock and see it’s the ass crack of dawn, the sun isn’t even up yet.

Must be your sister heading off to UW Seattle to talk about transferring and finishing her Master’s over there instead.

She’s always been devoted to her studies, finishing her degree and working on her Master’s of Library Science around the jobs she’s taken to provide for the two of you. No matter how many times you’ve offered to contribute part of your earnings at the dance studio to rent and food she insisted that you keep it for your dance lessons and coaches.

Going to college never crossed your mind, honestly. Nothing makes you as happy as dancing does, and the studio let you work full time around your practice schedule. It was perfect. You could do it forever, you’d thought. The owner was already talking about letting you train as a teacher in the summer.

A nervous trickle of excitement runs through your veins when you think about having to start over at KOKO. New classes, new scene, new everything.

But you’re not someone afraid of a challenge. While other kids would stand on the dock, looking at the deep water in Lake Fenwick with trepidation, you’d run off the end, screaming in delight, without a second thought.

Just like then you figure it’s better to dive in rather than fussing about it. You force yourself to get up and stretch, warming up your muscles. It’s been two long weeks since you had the time or energy to dance and your body craves it.

You remember that there’s an Advanced Contemporary class at nine thirty and drag yourself into the kitchen.

The apartment is small and cozy, with bright yellow walls. And you love the thick row of Evergreen trees that run along the narrow road behind the building.

The door to your roommate’s room is also open and you shake your head, imagining the two of them already in the library at this early hour. She’s a godsend, you think, to invite you and your sister to stay with her like this.

No, she’s an actual angel - she even left you some coffee in the pot. You fill a mug, savoring the smell.

By the time you’re dressed and walking to the bus stop the winter sun is finally clearing the horizon. A group of people walk past you, clearly on their way home after a long night, arms around each other’s waists and shoulders. Their eyes are drooping and they yawn in between laughing, loudly recounting an amazing concert at somewhere called Mo’s.

How long has it been since you had a night out, with actual friends? you wonder. There’s plenty of people at the mall who seem nice. Even just being around your sister and roommate is more fun than you’ve had in ages.

Maybe this can be a fresh start in more ways than one, you think, cheered by the idea and feeling younger than you have in ages.

Paige greets you warmly when you get to the studio and head inside, pulling off your thick wool scarf.

‘How’s it going today?’ you ask.

She smiles and brushes her hair behind her ear. ‘Already slowing down, thank goodness. You’ve been a lifesaver.’

You glow at the compliment. ‘No, truly. You’re the lifesaver, this job is wonderful. And I can’t believe you’re letting me take free classes here. I had to pay for them at my old studio, so this is fantastic.’

‘It’s all part of my master plan to keep you here forever,’ she says with a wink. 

You laugh and run your hand along the counter. Already the place is starting to feel like home. 

‘Stephanie said she was hoping to get you into the teaching program at your old studio, would you be interested in doing that here?’

Your mouth drops open in surprise. ‘Really? I mean - you haven’t even seen me dance. I could be awful.’

She laughs out loud. ‘I looked you up online before the interview. I know some of your teachers and trust their opinions. It’s one of the things I try to cultivate here - to have my teachers help out on the desk or as trainers in between classes so they can make enough to be stable. I knew you were a fit right when I met you.’

‘That’s amazing, Paige. Really, thank you. I’d love to -’

You’re cut off by a group of older ladies who need some help figuring out the lockers. She pats your shoulder as she walks by. ‘The application is saved to the desktop. Just fill it out and pop it in my box when you’re done and I’ll work on scheduling you some shadow shifts, okay?’

All you can do is nod after her in surprise. You turn to head down the hall towards the dance studios and smack into something hard and imposing. You assume you’ve run into a wall in your excitement, but instead of an inanimate object you’re staring into deep brown eyes that belong to the intimidating man from yesterday.

You swallow and step back instinctively. He’s waved at Paige and the other front desk assistants enough that you know he’s not completely terrible. Not that he’s ever spoken to me before, or shown any interest in being nice, you think with a frown.

He raises an arrogant brow, a ghost of a smirk lingering in the corner of his lips as he watches you blatantly stare at him.

He smells too damn good for this early in the morning. The thought makes you cross your arms protectively in front of your chest and take a step back.

You’ve had enough of self-centered asses for one life, thank you very much. With a shake of your head you break the awkward staring contest between you two and stride down the hall, leaving him behind.

It’s still early, so you’re the only one in the expansive wood-floored studio aside from a slim woman with a silver braid halfway down her back. The door thumps closed behind you and she turns to greet you with eyes so clear and blue you’d swear she’s an elf, not a human.

‘Hi hi hi, welcome. Come on in,’ she says with a voice like a running river. The sense of calm and peace she exudes washes over you. ‘I’m Michelle and you’re… Liz right? From the front desk?’

You nod, unable to resist smiling at her. ‘Yes that’s me,’ you say with an awkward wave.

‘Come right over here love, put your stuff in one of the cubbies. I’ve heard many great things from Paige. I’m so excited to meet you,’ she says, emphasizing the last word warmly. The sun coming in through the large glass windows makes her hair appear to glow.

She takes you under her wing, asking about your dance background while she sets up the music and greets other dancers coming in for class.

She claps in delight when you tell her Contemporary was always your favorite. ‘Excellent, I’m so delighted you’re here. You might give my star student a run for his money if Paige is right about you.’ She grins and deep wrinkles form in the corners of her eyes.

With a nod of her head she points to one of the few men in the class, stretching in the corner in black sweatpants and a simple white shirt.

You jolt. Shit. Anyone but him. For the second time that morning the arrogant man catches you off guard.

Without his hat his hair is messier than it usually is when you’ve seen him moving in and out of the studio. Even the early morning sun can’t dim the intensity in his eyes and frown on his lips.

You regard her with a raised brow. ‘Him?’

She laughs out loud, a bright sound of amusement. ‘Yes, dear. Have you met Jongin? My taciturn boy has a much softer heart than you’d imagine. Contemporary shows you someone’s soul, I think, and his bark is worse than his bite. You’ll see,’ she says mischievously while the last of the class gets settled.

At your curious expression she clarifies. ‘He’s not my flesh and blood son, but he’s been taking classes with me for so long I feel like he’s one of mine.’

With a shrug you walk over to a spot against the windows and finish stretching, positioning yourself as far from him as possible. Michelle takes her place at the front of the class, clapping her hands in delight.

‘Welcome, welcome. If you’re a veteran of this class then you’ll know I always start with a word to inspire you for the day,’ she says, emphasizing her magical vibe with dramatic hand movements. ‘Today’s word is free, darlings. Let yourself feel into the music. Let your heart run free.’

No stranger to eccentric teachers, you smile at her. She’s so kind that any fear of taking classes at this new studio has almost vanished. The last remaining piece of unease is due to the almost six foot tall man who has somehow worked his way to stand next to you.

Jongin’s attention is on Michelle, but he sneaks a look at you as she begins teaching the choreography for the class. Electric, challenging eyes. Smirk, raised brow. His attention makes you feel like you’ve been engulfed in flames.

Stubbornly you drag your attention away from him and focus on following along with Michelle’s steps. Unfortunately you can see him crystal clear in the mirrored walls in front of you both.

With a sigh you accept that it’s pointless to try to avoid him when he dances. Clearly, he was born to do this, you think, watching him in the mirror, envious of the way light seems to play off his features.

But as you ease into the flow of the class, bending and moving effortlessly along with Michelle, you remember that you were made for this too.

Every time you spin he’s watching you like a hawk, an unreadable expression on his infuriatingly handsome face. He studies the lines of your body like he’s preparing to paint you. You’re just as bad, it’s impossible to take your eyes off him.

Begrudgingly you admit that Michelle is right - his every movement shows his heart, whether he knows it or not; emotion is conveyed by his hands, his neck, his back as he dances. 

There’s an intensity, a sensation of passion barely contained beneath his skin that makes your heart race. And a softness you can see, a tenderness he keeps behind his mask that feels like glimpsing a priceless gem buried amongst the rubble.

When you first saw him you thought he was mean and full of himself. Just like Michael. But now you realize they could not be more different. The same power flows through both men, to wildly different routes.

After what feels like seconds, Michelle is already wrapping up class. Her pleasant voice carries on in the background as you and Jongin face each other. The openness in his expression is bright and hopeful and feels too big for you to contain. Sweat glistens on his chest and you ache to lick it off.

You blink to yourself. Where did that come from?

You step back, shaken. He watches your face and something he sees there makes his guard slam shut. The warmth in his eyes turns distant again, his expression drops.

He turns away from you, a hard edge to his shoulders. He grabs his bag and jacket and pushes out the door without a backward glance, leaving you feeling like the sun has suddenly been extinguished.

Tuesday January 21st, 1997

Jongin groans to himself in the light seeping through the gaps in his blinds. For long moments he contemplates skipping Michelle’s class today. He’s managed to avoid you for a week, checking schedules when he knows you’re at lunch, exiting in a rush through the mall and taking the long way to his car.

You’ll be there again today, he can feel it in his bones. This is a problem for two reasons.

First - all he can do in class is watch you dance. Too many things slip through the careful barrier he’s formed to face the world when he’s around you. He feels too raw, too open, too much, and he hates feeling that vulnerable.

When you dance around him he can’t think straight. When he’s near you he has absolutely insane fantasies. Of pulling you into his arms and kissing you senseless. Of spilling all the desires inside of him. Of trailing his fingers down the curve of your neck when you fall asleep beside him.

He groans. As if you’d ever want someone like him. As if he’d ever be able to stand being around someone like you. You wear your heart on your sleeve and he imagines cartoon animals helping you get dressed in the morning.

The two of you are as opposite as can be.

Except when you dance, a traitorous part of his brain thinks. He leaps out of bed and heads to make some coffee before the thought can embed itself in his mind. Too late.

Secondly - Something about you makes him want to be a better man. He knows he’s a good man. Knows he’s responsible, honorable, helpful. Even if he can be a dick sometimes, he knows in his heart he’s good.

No, make him want to be a different kind of man, he corrects, pouring creamer into his coffee. Someone sweeter and kinder, more hopeful.

He can’t explain it, the feeling that rises in him when he passes by you.

Yes, it’s attraction. Of course it is. He wonders how anyone could look at your unruly hair, the curve of your waist, your shy smile when greeting new customers, the surprisingly loud way you laugh when someone makes a joke at the counter, and not fall in love with you.

Yes, it’s also a desire to protect you. Not in a condescending way, as if you’re weak and need to be sheltered from the world; but he wants to be the one to hold you late at night when you’re scared. The one to be by your side to make sure that life doesn’t make you hard and bitter, or rob you of the delight the seems to inhabit your being.

He barks out a laugh at himself and it turns into a groan as he rubs his eyes. He doesn’t even know you, but he wants to.

Given how rude he’s been there’s zero chance you want to know him. And you shouldn’t want to. You’re soft and sweet; he’s been made hard by his upbringing.

Navigating the foster system in Seattle had taken the ease and joy he’d felt as a child, smoothed off his expressive edges until he had molded himself into someone who could get by.

If it wasn’t for Michelle, he’d probably be a lost cause. When he became friends with her son she’d seen the way his eyes had lit up when she talked about dancing. She invited him to come and take some youth classes for free, the rest was history.

He gets by just fine these days. But for you he wants to be more, and he’s man enough to admit that you scare the shit out of him for just that reason.

He drags himself through his morning routine and braces himself to watch you again today. He will allow himself this weakness, watching you, savoring the way you watch him as well.

Even if he maintains his icy front and you never have to endure a conversation with him, he still gives himself the permission to imagine that there’s more between you. Dangerous as that might be.

Monday February 3rd, 1997

The drive to the mall with your sister gives you an unfortunate amount of time to worry about Michael. It’s been over a month. If he was anyone else he would take the hint and not look for you, but his obsessive tendencies and possessive nature make you convinced he’ll come looking for you.

Luckily, he’s not the most tech-savvy person around and the chance he’ll be able to track you down that way is slim. No one from your old life knows where you’re working or living, so there’s time. Aside from Paige who did your hiring, no one knows your real name.

You imagine his anger at finding your apartment cleared out and hope that he didn’t do anything to Mrs. Jenkins. The thought of him breaking a door sends a shudder through you. Maybe he punched a wall, which you’d seen him do many times.

The feeling of dread threatens to pull you down with it, but as you drive south on the freeway the Space Needle appears from around a curve. The bright blue waters of Lake Washington glow on this unseasonably sunny day and you turn up the radio, letting the sound of Nirvana wash away your fear.

Paige has finally entrusted you with running the desk by yourself and as you go through the opening paperwork you can't help but feel proud.

The day passes by as it normally does. Waves of moms and seniors in the morning hours. Business folks coming in on their lunch hour. Everyone leaving sweatier and happier than when they came in.

When the afternoon exercise classes start, the day picks up. You almost don't see him amongst the steady stream of people. But like always, his energy draws you.

Michael leans against the back wall, with the same quirked eyebrow and leather jacket he always wore. Funny how it's only been a month and already it feels like the two of you are strangers. His presence is a punch to your gut and you look around in dismay before you realize Paige is on her lunch.

Classes have started for the hour and the gym is separated from reception by a solid wall. No one is nearby to help.

Michael waits for a moment to pounce, his sharp eyes scanning the folks checking in and leaving. Your heart races, breath catching in your throat. All at once you feel like a mouse cornered by a hungry cat.

In a break in the crowd he stalks towards the desk. He leans against the counter, encroaching on your space as always. 'Miss me?'

The sneer on his lips is revolting and you wonder all over again how you ever were attracted to him, and how you tolerated his attention for so long.

'What are you doing here?' you finally manage to get out, your earlier calm and confidence vanished the moment your eyes met his.

His smile turns harsh, angry. 'Didn't think the pigs could hold me for long, did you?'

With another look around he leans closer over the desk and runs a finger down your cheek. You grimace and pull away, anxious energy clouding around you, pressing in as you wait to see what he wants.

'You left me.' His voice turns ice cold. 'It took me ages to find you.'

Fear roils in your stomach, dissolving any sense of security you've built up in the last month. With an attempt at a steadying breath you remind yourself that you’re not completely alone, you’re surrounded by people and there’s no way he can hurt you here.

Long seconds pass as he stares at you across the desk. Suddenly, you feel a presence behind you.

‘Hey, you okay?’ Paige asks from behind you and you’re so relieved you could have kissed her.

You swallow harshly, finally breaking Michael’s intent stare. When you look up she’s standing there with a stack of files in her arm, raising an eyebrow at Michael, who’s clearly not here to work out.

‘Can I help you?’ she says. Her tone takes on a hard edge as she watches the way he oozes possessiveness into the space.

He straightens, his eyes not leaving yours. With a wink he turns to leave. ‘Thank you for your assistance, miss. I’m excited to become a regular customer here.’

He pushes through the door and disappears into the busy sidewalk. The thump of the door as it closes breaks the spell on you and with a deep inhale you observe the slight shaking of your hands.

Paige moves to your side and takes you in. Her keen eyes miss nothing and she squats down next to you. ‘What’s wrong?’

You debate telling her, wondering if it’s best to just brush it off. But the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach that you hoped you’d left behind in Tacoma is burning once more. Your sister is right, he won’t stop. Ever.

Ashamed that you’d ever been involved with someone like him and wishing for all the world that he could have just forgotten you, you decide to tell her. Meeting her kind brown eyes you summarize as best as you can.

‘That was my ex, Michael,’ you start, coughing to clear the lump in your throat. ‘I left Tacoma to get away from him, to start fresh. It’s why I asked you all to call me by my nickname. But he found me.’

Her eyes go wide in shock for a moment, brows pulling together in concern. ‘Did he hurt you?’

You shrug, unsure how to convey how he made you feel. ‘He was manipulative. Aggressive, demanding. He didn’t … not like that. He didn’t hit me, but he hurt me in other ways. I thought - it was silly, but I thought getting away from him I’d be safe. I don’t know what to do.’

Determination colors her features and she stands to pick up the phone. ‘You’re part of my staff now, and I don’t tolerate assholes. Especially not the possessive ex variety. I’m calling Leeteuk, he’s the head of mall security. Do you want to go home for the day?’

Instantly you want to hide, embarrassed. ‘No, no, no. Please don’t,’ you plead quietly. ‘I don’t want to make a scene. And I… it’s nice being here, surrounded by people right now.’

She pauses with her hand on the receiver. ‘I promise, no scene. I just want it to be on his radar in case that jerk comes back, okay? If you’re here and he comes in again, let me know or call LT or Dale. You’re safe here.’

‘Okay.’ Relief floods through you while she calls, telling the man on the phone that she’ll find a picture from the security footage and send it over.

You breathe deeply and let it out, turning to greet the kind older man approaching the desk, glad for the distraction. Paige hangs up the phone a moment later and gives you a nod as if to say it’s all going to be alright. ‘Let me know how I can help, I’m here for you.’

You nod. ‘Thank you, Paige. I mean it.’ 

She gives you a small smile and heads back to her office.

The day carries on as the afternoon rush picks up and slowly the sense of dread in your gut eases a fraction. He’s still out there, but now you feel like you’ve got an entire mall on your side.

Thursday February 6th, 1997

For two days you watch the sidewalk and the mall entrance nervously, waiting for him to show up again. It’s just like him, to keep you on pins and needles. Always at his beck and call.

When you told your sister what happened at lunch she looked like she could have breathed fire. She came over personally on her break that night to talk to Paige, and then LT and Dale.

She’s already called once today to check in, from the library at UW. Even if it’s kind and well intentioned, everyone’s protectiveness is starting to make you feel like a child, rather than a twenty-one year old woman.

By Thursday morning you’ve had enough, and resolve to put him out of your mind. Sitting up straighter, you go about the opening duties with your eyes firmly focused on the computer and the stacks of paper in front of you.

As the day goes on your smile feels more genuine, the vice grip of fear on your heart loosening enough for you to feel human again. By the time Paige swaps you so you can take your lunch break you’re feeling almost back to your normal, cheerful self.

Maybe it was a one time thing, you think, as you work your way around the tables in the food court carrying your pizza slices. Maybe he just wanted to stop by and assert his dominance before moving on with his life.

It feels too good to be true, you think, pulling your lip between your teeth.

At a table in the food court, right in front of you, is Jongin, sitting by himself. An empty plate on the counter, a paperback propped open on his extended leg. From here you can see the faint shadow on his jaw and can’t resist thinking about how his skin might taste.

It really is unfair that someone so hostile should be so damn attractive.

As if he’s heard your thoughts he looks up, his devastatingly seductive eyes visible this close. You open your mouth to say something. Anything. But abruptly, the hair stands up on the back of your neck.

Scanning the mall, you see him. Michael, standing in the middle of the entryway, thankfully looking towards the jewelry store at the other end. He’d look like just another shopper if you didn’t know him.

The drive from Tacoma is not short, especially at lunch time. He’s here for a purpose.

He’d definitely notice you through the crowd, even though it’s thick with people at this hour. The distance to KOKO is just too far. You stand there frozen for a beat, heart racing in your chest. Without thinking, you pull out the chair across from Jongin and sit down, lifting your hand to cover your face.

‘What’s wrong?’ comes a deep voice, softer than you’d have thought Jongin would have.

You look up and he’s closed his book, clearly on alert after what he finds in your expression. His hand reaches out to your knee but he looks at it with a frown and checks the motion.

‘I just - that man by the door, in the leather jacket. He’s my ex and he’s… I don’t know. Stalking me.’ You sigh. ‘I thought he’d leave me alone, but he keeps coming by.’

‘Does security know about it?’ he asks, looking to the right. The narrow hall where the security office is housed is visible next to the movie theater.

You nod. The fear that normally races through your veins when Michael’s around is simmering down. For all his hardness Jongin’s presence feels like a safety blanket.

‘I just need to get out of here. I’m so tired of seeing him.’ You peek through your fingers and see Michael has slipped his hands in his pockets, and he’s coming this way. ‘Crap.’

Jongin follows your eyes and his expression hardens when he locates who you’re watching. ‘Come with me,’ he says, standing and putting himself between you two.

He ghosts his hand down your back and motions you ahead, straight into Starlight Apparel. Behind his height you’re practically invisible.

A tall man with dark hair and model-like features sees you and Jongin. His eyes go wide with concern at your obvious distress and the intensity radiating off Jongin.

‘Hey, man. What’s up?’ he asks, coming around the counter.

‘Do you have somewhere she can hide?’ Jongin asks this man, who’s clearly a friend.

He nods, looking out into the mall and ushers you both through the store to the back, asking another employee to cover the register on the way.

He leads you down a short hallway behind the dressing rooms and opens a door that leads to a back room that looks like it doubles as a breakroom. ‘You’ll be safe back here, it’s just for employees. Would sitting help?’

With an attempt at a deep breath you collapse into one of the chairs, adrenaline fizzing out and leaving you feeling a million years old. Jongin stands by cautiously, looking ready to act if you say the word.

Jongin turns and gives the man a complicated handshake. ‘I’ve got it from here, thanks Sehun.’

‘No problem.’

Once the other man leaves Jongin crouches in front of you, giving you your space. A silent, protective presence.

After a moment your breathing evens out to the point where you can speak. ‘Sorry about that. I-’

‘It’s on him for being an asshole. Not you.’ His tone is insistent, like he needs you to understand that it’s not your fault and you nod, feeling tears well up. ‘I’m going to get security, are you okay here?’

You nod. ‘I’m fine. Thank you, Jongin.’

He jolts at the sound of his name, an unreadable expression on his face. After a beat he stands. ‘I’ll be back when the coast is clear, okay?’

He’s gone in a flash and you stare at the space he occupied. With a disbelieving laugh you realize it’s the first time you’ve spoken to him after weeks of working together.

By the time you’ve finished your pizza Jongin is back with a red-haired man named Leeteuk who tells you that unfortunately, Michael managed to vanish once again.

The rest of the day you notice Jongin keeping an eye on you. You do your best to think that he’s just being kind, but against logic you allow yourself to enjoy his protectiveness.

Monday February 10th, 1997

Your sister is running late after closing. You could head through the mall to see what’s keeping her, but it’s an unseasonably warm night and you decide to go and wait by the car.

The mall sits across from a large, dimly lit park. It’s absence of light and noise is a rarity for downtown. The other buildings on the streets on either side of the mall are filled with crowded restaurants and concert venues, bookstores open late, and a tall, vibrant building advertising the best karaoke in Seattle.

Hands in your pockets, you lean back against the car and stare up at the stars. Despite its technology boom, Seattle seems to be resisting modernization in subtle ways, clinging to its grunge and anti-establishment vibes by its’ teeth.

The juxtaposition of new and old, hip and classical, makes you feel like you too can be anything you choose.

You think about the application to be a teacher trainee that sits in your bag with Paige’s stamp of approval. You think about the Sunday morning breakfasts you’ve gotten into a routine of sharing with your sister and roommate. You think about how excited you are for Michelle’s class tomorrow.

And you think about the way you feel like the center of the Universe when Jongin’s focus is on you. Despite the threat of Michael, you can’t find it in you to be unhappy.

This time of night on a Monday the parking lot is mostly deserted, a bubble of quiet despite the activity and noise that surround it.

Of course Michael would choose now to find you. He always was smarter than you’d given him credit for.

A weight settles abruptly next to you against the car and you turn, startled by the sudden appearance of a person next to you.

In quick succession you notice the uncharacteristic stubble on his face, the red rims to his eyes. Michael’s hand drops to the back of the car, his fingers reaching to possessively play with the hair at the nape of your neck, making you recoil.

‘Finally, we’re alone,’ he growls against your ear, pulling you flush against his side.

‘Michael -’ his name leave you in a high-pitch, fear coloring your veins as you look around in desperation.

You swallow harshly, focusing on keeping your breathing steady. His bike waits in a spot a few spaces down. You were so caught up in daydreaming you didn’t recognize the sound.

‘Why are you here?’ you ask, shoving against his side with both hands. His stomach feels like steel and all you succeed in doing is pissing him off. 

‘What, you think you can manage without me, baby?’ he taunts, stepping into your space. ‘You’re coming with me.’

When you were younger the smell of his cologne used to thrill you. The patches on his leather jacket, the motorcycle, the dismissive sneer; it all used to make you weak in the knees. The fact that someone so handsome and larger than life wanted you made you feel special, desirable.

But now, as an adult woman, you see these things for what they are. You see him for who he is - a power-hungry, manipulative asshole. 

Being away from his overwhelming presence was like Dorothy stepping into Oz, the world ceased to be black and white and expanded into full color once again.

Warm and steadying anger seems into you. You’re done with letting him affect you. ‘Stop it, Michael. You shouldn’t be here. Get out.’ 

You raise your hands to his chest, pushing yourself steadily away from him and fixing him with your most determined stare. He laughs, an ugly sound of dismissal. Like he can’t imagine that you’d want anything in life more than you want him. 

‘It’s over.’ Despite the conviction in your voice, you hope he can’t see the way your hands shake as they drop to your sides. 

His mouth twists to the side in a cruel smile. When he moves to corner you again someone steps between you two, blocking him from your sight.

‘She told you to leave,’ comes a deep, steady voice.

‘Jongin?’ you ask, stepping around to see that his expression has turned sharp. He radiates power, seeming taller and broader than you remembered.

Michael sneers, standing taller. ‘Did you find someone else to fuck you already, baby?’

‘Get out of here. Now.’ Jongin commands. ‘Security is on their way.’

His recent brush with the law seems to be fresh in his mind as Michael sizes up Jongin, undoubtedly weighing his desire to claim you against wanting to avoid getting in trouble with the law again. 

‘Fine. I’m going,’ he says harshly. 

Surrender chafes against him and his hand hovers over his jacket pocket in a way that makes you step forward to hold onto Jongin’s arm. You want to protect him, or have him protect you. Probably both. 

Jongin looks down at you with those intense eyes of his and reaches to hold your hand. 

‘Just know you’re still mine. That will never change,’ Michael says, looking at your clasped hands like he wants to punch something. He jams his helmet on his head and drives off. 

Jongin gives your hand a squeeze, his face softening. ‘Are you okay?’

You know you shouldn’t, but for a moment you let yourself sag in relief against his shoulder. ‘I- thank you, for being here.’ 

‘I didn’t like the look of him, the way he made you tense up. Can I admit I’ve been keeping a watch out for you since last time?’

You pull back and smile up at him, holding his focus. ‘I know.’

He looks down, an embarrassed smile on his lips. So often he looks away, disappears around corners. Tonight you refuse to let him back away without letting him know how much it means to you that he’s been there for you. 

‘Jongin, I -’ Movement behind him draws your attention and you see your sister hurrying across the parking lot. She stops next to you, instinctively moving to your other side and sizing up Jongin. 

‘Hi, I’m here. Sorry I’m late, this dad forgot to pick up his son and I had to drop him off,’ she says slightly out of breath, looking between you and Jongin. 

‘Something happened. What did I miss?’ She looks at him suspiciously and he lets go of your hand.

Jongin sighs and runs a hand through his hair. ‘Her ex showed up.’

‘I could kill that man. This is ridiculous.’ She makes a noise like an angry lioness and you almost want to laugh, imagining her tearing into Michael. 

Jongin nods. ‘I agree. I don’t think the police would be able to do much, and security is already on alert. I’d… like to walk you to your car until he’s dealt with, if that’s alright.’

Your sister raises a brow. ‘And who are you? I’m sure you’re a good guy, but as you can see, I’m a little protective of her.’

Jongin laughs out loud at her feisty tone. The warm, rich sound is a balm, chasing away the lingering unease Michael’s hands had stirred up.

He reaches out his hand formally and shakes your sister’s hand. ‘My name is Jongin Kim. I’m a hip hop instructor and personal trainer at KOKO. No ulterior motives, I just want to keep your sister safe from that creep.’

She sizes him up, nodding when she doesn’t find anything alarming in her perusal. ‘We drive together Saturday, Sunday, and Monday when I work. Thursday and Friday she buses by herself. And I know she’s been here on her days off taking classes.’

He looks like he’s mentally mapping out a schedule. ‘Sounds good, I’ll meet you guys at the entrance the days you drive and walk you.’ He turns to you. ‘I’ll drive you home the rest of the week.’

Your jaw drops. ‘I can’t ask that of you, it’s too much. I don’t want to inconvenience you.’

He pulls his keys from his pocket thoughtfully. ‘You didn’t ask. I offered. I practice a lot when I’m not working, so I’m here all the time, anyways.’

‘That would be very kind of you, I appreciate it.’ Your sister says, but he keeps his eyes locked on yours.

‘For how long?’ you ask softly.

He sighs. ‘I grew up with a lot of people like that. Unfortunately I think he’s going to do something that puts him away for a long time. I’m going to do everything I can to make sure it doesn’t involve you.’

You nod and he lingers for a moment before turning to head for his car with a wave. 

‘Well, that was unexpected,’ your sister says. She’s folded her arms across her chest and bumps you good-naturedly with her shoulder. ‘You didn’t tell me you had… a bear to protect you.’

You laugh, tension easing from your muscles. ‘That’s a good way to describe him.’

She walks around to get in the driver’s seat. ‘Want to tell me what’s up with you two?’ she asks over the roof of the car. 

‘I’ll tell you when I figure it out myself, deal?’ He makes you feel every emotion under the sun it seems like. You’re a spinning wheel when it comes to him, and you have no idea where the arrow will land. 

‘Deal.’ She laughs and slides into the seat. 

Wednesday February 12th, 1997

Jongin pushes into the studio with his shoulder. One of the yoga instructors is manning the desk this morning, filling in on your off day. With a nod of his head to her he keeps walking down the hallway. As always, he focuses on the choreography for the class he’s going to teach today, going over it in his head.

The door to the manager’s office opens and he nods to Paige as he passes by.

‘Jongin, just who I was hoping to see. Do you have a minute?’

‘For you? Always,’ he teases. He’s known Paige just as long as Michelle and he’d happily take a bullet for either of them.

She snorts and rolls her eyes. ‘Liz from reception is going to start shadowing for her teacher training. I told her she could start with your class today, I hope that’s alright.’

He sighs and runs a hand through his messy hair. Of course the Universe keeps finding more ways to throw the two of you together. He braces himself. ‘Yep. Fine with me, I’d be happy to show her how we do things here.’

‘Excellent. I knew I could count on you,’ she says with a smile.

He shakes himself and turns, heading for the locker room. Amusement makes him smile and he sighs, thinking he’ll always be out of his depths when it comes to you.

A familiar voice calls to him while he puts away his stuff in his locker.

‘What’s up man?’ Yixing says, slinging an enthusiastic arm around Jongin’s shoulder.

He grins and draws his friend into a handshake and a hug.

'Long time no see, are you finally taking classes again?' Jongin asks, pulling his chosen CD from the stack .

'Yeah, I'm trying to get back into it. Work was insane over the holidays and all this Valentine’s prep has me wound up like crazy. I'm ready to sweat, so make sure it's a good class,' he laughs and pretends to punch his friend in the shoulder.

He and Yixing catch up as they enter the studio and he starts setting things up for class. The CD in the player and he queues up for repeat the track he’s chosen for today's beginning/intermediate Hip Hop class - ‘My Way’ by Usher.

A few regulars nod and wave while he and Yixing stretch, warming up. But when you walk in, looking like you stepped out of his dreams, he swallows hard.

Yixing notices his lingering stare as he watches you put your stuff in a cubby and begin walking over. 'Who's that?'

Jongin ignores the obvious insinuation in his tone. 'Our new receptionist.'

'Aaaah, you sweet on her?' Yixing laughs at the death glare he receives. 'Dude, I'm your friend, you can tell me anything. You know that.'

You give him a tentative wave as you approach. Yixing gets up and mouths ‘go for it’ behind your back to Jongin.

He wants to laugh at how different things are, in just the short few weeks since you started here. So much has happened that he isn’t able to keep his distance. He decides to greet this change with a reckless sort of enthusiasm.

‘So I hear you’re in teacher training?’ he says, wincing at how overly excited he sounds.

‘Yes and I’m so nervous about it,’ you laugh, twisting your hands together at your waist.

‘Why? You’re an amazing dancer,’ he says. It’s obvious to him that you know what you’re doing.

You blush at the compliment and instantly he wants to give you a thousand more. It usually doesn't phase him anymore, being watched. He knows the feeling of all eyes on him when he teaches classes or performs. Ever since he realized he could dance in middle school, people have been watching him.

First it was other dancers, people on the street; at clubs and competitions and classes. And now, thanks to a lucky break from Paige, he has a steady flow of teaching opportunities at KOKO.

People have been watching him for years, but nothing prepares him for how exposed and vulnerable your attention makes him feel.

‘You’ll do amazing. I know it. The first class you just shadow, so there’s no pressure. Just get into the flow of how I run the class. Follow me and do what I do.’

You nod and salute him. ‘Okay, I can do that. I’m sure you’re an amazing teacher. People call asking when your classes are all the time.’

He suddenly wants to show off for you. To pull out his most amazing choreography. He wants to impress you, he realizes. He hasn’t wanted to do that in ages.

He fights a grin. You’re so open and sweet he doesn’t think you have any idea of the effect you have on him. You check him out, not the least bit discreet, and give him a mysterious smile before taking your place. Okay, maybe you have some idea, he thinks.

He greets the class in his usually succinct way, making a conscious attempt to smile more than he normally does. Yixing looks between the two of you and gives Jongin a shit-eating grin.

He rolls his eyes and avoids his friend, walking over to press play on the CD.

'All right everyone, we're going to start off with a simple combination. Follow along with me and don't worry if you don't pick it up right away, we'll do it a few times.'

He turns, facing the wide wall of mirrors. As if drawn by your energy he meets your gaze in the glass where you hover to his right.

He's learned you wear your emotions on your sleeve. When the desk is busy you wear a broad, warm, welcoming smile that almost covers the overwhelm of many people asking questions.

This time, watching you as the opening beats of the track begin, he gets to see you be your full self again. You breathe, relaxing into the rhythm, a slight smile playing on your lips. He knows that look well, as he's sure he wears it whenever he dances.

Like in Michelle’s class, you both look more relaxed. The world makes more sense in the studio to him, and to you as well apparently. The light streaming in through the windows, the crisp even lines of the wood floors, the endless mirrors. Even the cubbies at the back that will always smell a bit like old socks make him feel at home.

He narrates along with his movements. Beginning/Intermediate classes always draw a mixed crowd. He likes to make things as clear and easy to follow as possible for all levels while paying attention to people who need extra help.

There are people like Yixing who have experience dancing taking the class for fun. Older folks trying to stay active in retirement. Ladies groups looking for fun new workouts. Younger kids just getting started.

Once he's finished with the first block of steps he pauses, chastising himself for the way he can't seem to look away from you.

'That was great everyone, let's try it a few more times before the song restarts,' he says as the music continues.

He weaves his way through the people in attendance with you on his heels, correcting movements gently, offering encouragement. You repeat the steps for a kind-looking older man and woman. The smile you give them when they get it right is so warm and luminous he doesn’t even see Yixing until his friend snaps his fingers in Jongin’s face.

‘To quote the great philosopher Usher, my friend: You got it bad.’

Jongin glares at him and he motions for you to join him at the front again. Yixing’s soft laughter follows and he knows he’s never going to hear the end of this.  

Once the class ends he takes time saying goodbye to all the students. Even if he is a bit more reserved of a person he still wants the studio to look good. He wants people to enjoy his classes and always makes the effort.

As the last person leaves he watches you putting your coat on. For long seconds he wonders if he should speak the desire battling in his chest into existence or if it’s too soon or too awkward or too… something.

He buys time by grabbing the CD. Finally, you slip your bag over your shoulder and he comes to lean against the edge of the cubbies in what he hopes is a casual way.

‘Are you hungry?’ he mumbles.

‘What was that?’ You turn and look at him, a warmth in your expression as you regard him.

He clears his throat, trying again. ‘Sorry. Are you hungry? I’m starving and was thinking about getting something to eat at Flanagan’s, the pub in the mall.’

Pink tints your cheeks and you nod, suddenly finding an excuse to look anywhere but at him. ‘That would be perfect, I’d love to.’

He can’t help but fist pump in celebration in his mind. He coughs, composing himself. ‘Awesome, we can talk about the teacher training,’ he says with an attempt at nonchalance.

You follow him through the mall towards the Irish pub and he thanks the heavens that you work together and have plenty to talk about. Going over the class, reviewing what you learned, covering your dance background and his. It all fills the space that would exist on a normal first date.

Date? Where did that come from? he wonders over the last of his dinner. He shakes his head to clear it and has to ask you to repeat your question.

‘What are you working for?’ you say again, taking a small sip of your cider.

He tilts his head in confusion. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Aside from paying bills, what’s the goal?’ you ask with a curious look, as if you’re trying to figure him out. ‘What’s your dream?’

He takes a deep breath, holding it before letting it out. It’s something he’s kept locked away, hidden down deep. ‘I’d love to teach in schools. Open my own studio or something. Maybe.’

You grin at that, a dimple appearing in one of your cheeks that makes him want to kiss you. He shakes himself, continuing on at your encouragement.

‘Dance saved me. Gave me a home, a family, a purpose. I’m doing alright for myself now and I’d love to be able to do that for someone else in return. Give some other kids a safe space.’

He blushes and quickly takes a drink of his beer. ‘What about you?’

You frown, looking adorably puzzled. ‘Oh. I haven't really thought about it. Can I have a minute to think?’

He nods and motions with his hand. ‘We’ve got plenty of time, no pressure.’

You love that about him, that he doesn’t rush. Doesn’t push.

You’ve never seen him so open and animated before. You can’t believe you used to think he was unfriendly. Around you he’s practically a teddy bear. A brooding, intense teddy bear, but a teddy bear nonetheless.

While he eats you contemplate his question.

Perhaps it came with being the baby of the family, the younger sister, that you were given the rose-colored glasses to wear. That you were shielded from a lot of harsh realities growing up.

Maybe there was tension and stress at home when you were young, but you never felt it. All you remember from the early days are laughing and dancing and family dinners.

Nights spent reading every book you could get your hands on with your sister, your cold feet touching hers under the covers of your shared bed, making her scream until you both dissolved into giggles.

Going on long walks through the trails near your apartment, watching the boats go by on the water. Your parents’ proud faces in the audience at your dance recitals.

It was all wonderful, until it wasn’t. Until the day in 1989 when your parents were caught in the crossfire of a shootout in Hilltop; the wrong place at the wrong time. The day your family went from four to two.

Where once there was family game nights and pancakes on Sunday mornings with your father between his graveyard shift at one job and his afternoon shift at another, there was your sister, younger than you are now, sitting at the dining room table trying to pinch pennies to make things work.

She’d never caved, never given into despair, at least not where you could see. And you were determined to hold yourself together for her, even if you couldn’t do so for yourself.

The two of you mourned together, scraped by with your father’s meager pension from work. She started working nights in addition to her college classes and never let you miss school or stop dancing.

At sixteen you started working the front desk at the studio you took dance classes from. Your first job, and the place where you met Michael.

Coincidentally, it was the beginning of a five year period where you started to hide everything from your sister. Out of shame, embarrassment, or some intuitive understanding that she would forbid you from seeing him if she found out what he was really like.

Now that you’re out on your own, free of the dark cloud of Michael, everything feels new. Tentative. Raw.

What do I want? The answer is so apparent to you it feels almost silly.

‘I guess… just a home. Not literally a house,’ you laugh. ‘But that would be nice. All I want is a safe place for the people I love. That’s what my parents gave my sister and I growing up and I’d like that again. I know I’m young, lots of my friends said I should want to travel or go to school or make it big dancing or something. But that’s never been the most important thing to me.’

He doesn’t say anything, just watches you with an intense, unreadable look that he seems to save just for you.

You feel heat come to your cheeks and take a big drink of your cider to hide your embarrassment. ‘That’s silly though. Forget I said anything,’ you mutter.

A soft pressure rests on the hand you have laying on the table and you’re shocked to see that he’s placed his hand on top of yours. ‘It’s not silly at all,’ he says softly. ‘It sounds beautiful.’

For long seconds the two of you stay like that, the attraction you feel towards him rises, surprising but not entirely unwelcome. It’s a sensation of being thrown overboard into a sea and getting lost in the waves.

‘You guys all set? It’s just about closing time,’ the waiter asks, holding the check, oblivious to the moment he’s interrupting.

You and Jongin talk over each other, fumbling for your wallets. Neither of you can look the other properly in the eye as you pay and walk to the car. What happened feels too meaningful to acknowledge in the quiet of the night.

He turns on the radio while he drives you home to fill the space as you both get lost in your thoughts. After all you’ve shared with each other tonight, it seems silly that he doesn’t know your real name.

‘Can I tell you something?’ you ask quietly when he pulls up to the apartment.

He nods, giving you a small smile. ‘You can tell me anything.’

‘Liz isn’t my real name. It’s… a nickname I’ve been going by to hide from Michael, but I guess it’s pointless now.’

When you tell him your real name he nods and pleasure colors his cheeks, as if he’s honored you trust him with it. He reaches out to briefly rest his hand on top of yours before bringing it back to rest on his thigh, always being respectful. For all his toughness and intensity, the more you get to know him the more you’re surprised by how his sweetness and kindness draw you in and make you feel safe.

‘Goodnight Jongin,’ you say quietly.

‘Goodnight.’ He repeats your name, softly, trying it out on his tongue while he holds your focus.

Finally, he blinks and settles back against the seat and you step out of the car. You can feel his eyes on you the entire walk up the steps to the front door of the complex, protecting you even if he can’t be next to you.

Tuesday February 25th, 1997

Yixing and Sehun drag Jongin from his sleeping with an early morning phone call, demanding he come work out with them.

Without any regard for his sleep-deprived state, Yixing goes right to the heart of the situation while spotting for Jongin on the bench press.

‘You like her.’ He doesn’t say it like a question, because it’s not. The look on Jongin’s face confirms it and Yixing barks out a laugh. ‘I knew it!’

Jongin sighs, resting the weight on the handles and looking up at the triumphant face of his friend. ‘I can’t like her.’

Sehun pauses in the middle of bicep curls, his brow furrowing in confusion. ‘Dude, why not?’

‘Well, we work together for one thing,’ Jongin says with a groan.

Yixing laughs. ‘I know all about that, my friend. Doesn’t mean you don’t have feelings for her.’

Jongin sits up, running a frustrated hand through his messy hair. ‘She also has this asshole ex who keeps showing up and harassing her, Sehun you were there. I can’t ask her out now. A, she deserves someone who just wants to take care of her without an ulterior motive. B, I have no desire to be a rebound. I like her way too much for that.’

Sehun meets Yixing’s look of victory and shakes his head with amusement.

‘Look, man. All I’m saying is you’ve been single forever. You are absolutely not a creep taking advantage of her. And if she does put you in the rebound zone, that’s her loss,’ Sehun says.

Jongin opens his mouth to object but Yixing cuts him off, raising his hands in surrender. ‘You two seem to get along, that’s all we’re saying. It’s worth a shot right? When are you seeing her again?’

‘I see her pretty much everyday. I either walk her and her sister to her car or I drive her home when her sister has school stuff to do.’

Sehun makes a noise of frustration. ‘Bro, just invite her to Shari’s next time we all go. She’ll realize you have excellent taste in friends. You can charm her with your dancing. She’ll want to jump your bones. Foolproof plan.’

Yixing shoves Sehun playfully in the shoulder. ‘Arrogance aside, he’s right. Shari’s is perfect. Casual, fun, cool.’

‘Right. Casual. Sure,’ Jongin sighs and resumes his workout.

Thursday March 6th, 1997

While he waits for you to finish your closing tasks he walks around the parking lot.  He slides his hands into his pockets, staring up at the night sky. It’s finally starting to become warm enough to function without a thick jacket.

His friend’s words run through his mind, urging him to ask you out. But he laughs to himself, thinking how that’s not his way. With dancing and success, sure, he can work his ass off, push himself to be the best.

But even though his friends always tell him girls are falling over themselves to be with him, he’s never felt confident in that way. Or even really interested. Before you.

He loves his body, loves what it does and what it lets him express through movement. He’ll even admit that he finds it aesthetically pleasing, toned in the right places and well-proportioned.

But he’s always felt that beauty has nothing to do with appearance. Want, attraction, and desire for him live in motion. In what someone does, how they treat others, how they move through life. Who they are beneath the skin.

He sighs. If only he could dance to show you how he feels. Maybe he’ll get a chance to, tomorrow night.

The sound of the bell tinkling and the door closing makes him turn around.

‘Hey, you ready?’ you ask, smiling at him.

‘Yeah, absolutely,’ he says, hitting the light switch in the office and following you out the door.

He watches you while you walk to his car, when he thinks you won’t see. Tonight he lets himself wonder what it would be like if you were his, fully. Officially. What it would be like if he was the one who got to wake up beside you. Go to sleep next to you. And everything in between.

He’s noticed that your eyes dart around the parking lot less frequently now that it’s been a few weeks since Michael showed up. He takes it as reassurance that the field is clear, so to speak.

He struggles to find words, never his strong suit, and the warmth in your eyes when you look at him makes the limited ones he has scatter from his mind.

‘The stars are nice tonight,’ you supply, glancing up and grinning.

‘It always surprises me how you can still see them in Seattle, even in the city.’

You slide into the car and he follows, managing to find his bravery. ‘Do you want to go to Shari’s with me tomorrow?’

‘Sharis?’

He lets out his nerves as a quiet laugh. ‘Sorry, it’s a dance club nearby. Me and Sehun and some of our other friends go sometimes. Baekhyun over at the movie theater decided that the weather is finally decent enough for us all to come out of our shells. I’d love it if you joined us. It should be fun.’

The smile you give him makes his palms sweat. ‘Absolutely, that sounds fantastic!’

Friday, March 7th, 1997

You’re unable to convince your sister to come with you to the club, she pleads out saying she’d love to but she’s swamped by course work. She somehow managed to get the school to let her finish up her last two quarters from a distance at the Seattle location.

Your roommate is coming from a mixer for her internship, but she’s meeting you in a while at the club. Once, you might have been nervous to go in alone, but you know that Jongin will be inside somewhere, waiting for you.

How lovely it is, to be wanted by someone you want, you think. Someone good and honest and real. You remember the way Jongin checked you out yesterday, asked you here tonight, somehow both confident and unsure. It feels like you’re glowing from within.

‘You think he wants you for anything other than sex, dumb bitch. That dress is short enough, you’re clearly asking for it.’

Michael’s voice is so loud and harsh in your mind that you spin on the street in search of him. But there’s no sign of him. You frown, upset that his presence still clouds your thoughts.

Once and for all you wish you could be free of him. As with anything in life, you tell yourself it will get easier with time. With a deep fortifying breath you shake it off and stride right up to the gleaming black wood doors.

The bass of the club isn’t just something you can hear, standing outside the front doors nervously fixing your dress, it’s something you can feel. The club seems to pulse with energy in the chilly night.

Finally, you can’t procrastinate any longer and push through the doors of the club. The bouncer is a man at least three times your size with two full sleeves of tattoos, showcased by the tank top he wears. With a nod he hands your ID back to you and waves you through.

Salt-N-Pepa thumps from the speakers on the dance floor and you immediately notice it’s packed to the brim with people dancing. You look around and don’t see anyone familiar, but then a tall head catches your attention.

Sehun turns and waves to you, his normally stern face breaking into a warm smile. He nudges someone next to him and Jongin appears from the mass of bodies.

His normal casual street style is swapped tonight for a pair of close-fitting black pants, a fitted white shirt, and a long gold cross earring you’ve never seen before. His messy hair is brushed back out of his face.

He walks over to you with heat in his eyes, taking in your curves, showed off by the purple dress you’re wearing tonight.

Once he reaches you the sheen of sweat on his neck becomes visible and the spicy smell of his cologne warms you. He leans to you and his breath cascades along your shoulder, sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

‘Hey, you made it!’ he calls over the chorus of ‘Whatta Man.’

‘I did!’ you say, resisting the urge to touch him or lick his neck or something equally insane.

The way he discreetly checks out your legs and cleavage lets you know that his thoughts are along the same line. ‘Come on, you can put your stuff at the table.’

You nod and he ghosts a hand along your low back to guide you towards a table in the corner where you recognize some other people from the mall. Jongin takes your purse and adds it to the cluster of them at the back of the booth.

He introduces you to Baekhyun, Hitchcock, Yixing, and two other men, one tall and one shorter, whose names you don’t catch as they’re deep in a discussion about ‘a pop/punk revival of epic proportions.’

You grab drinks at the bar, laughing as you talk about the wild pair of high school boys who came to class this week. Once you’re finished, you and Jongin both look at the dance floor eagerly.

‘Do you want to dance?’ Jongin asks, clearly alive in this atmosphere.

You’d say yes to anything right now, even if he asked you to jump into the sun. When you nod he wraps his hand tentatively around yours, waiting for you to squeeze back before he grins and guides you to the floor.

He moves around you as the song ends, an intensity and focus in his eyes you’re finally starting to understand he saves just for you. It ignites something deep in your chest that makes you see visions of his teeth on your neck, his hands on your thighs, sliding up underneath your dress. You whine and blessedly the sound is lost in the noise of the club.

Abruptly you laugh, shaking your head. Has it been so long that you forgot what clubs do to you? Or is it just the effect that Jongin has? Either way, when the next song begins you don’t know whether to curse the Universe or blow it kisses in thanks.

When ‘Pony’ by Ginuwine starts people around you cheer and move closer together. The DJ at the booth looks out on the crowd, a firm line to his brows and a faint smile on his lips. He seems to ride the enthusiasm of the crowd. It certainly feels like it’s suddenly hotter in the room when Jongin steps into your space tentatively.

He watches you hungrily, waiting for your lead; looking both ready to consume you and ready to step back if you gave the slightest sign you didn’t want him to touch you. Something tight and afraid in your chest melts and you nod at him, moving closer in return and answering his silent question.

Neither of you need words, it’s far too loud in here to understand each other anyways. The magnetic pull between you two finally draws tighter and his hands gently settle on your hips at the same moment yours grasp his shoulders.

Maybe it’s the fact that you’ve been in the same classes for weeks, keenly aware of each other’s bodies. Maybe it’s the fact that the two of you are clearly attracted to each other. Or maybe it’s the song itself. Whatever the reason, you and Jongin find your rhythm fast and easy, moving together to the beat.

You want to sink into him, to slide your hands under the collar of his shirt and touch the muscles of his back. He makes you feel both safe and wild does things to you that you never felt with Michael. His thumbs press into the sensitive flesh of your hips and you bite your lip to stifle a moan.

For the entirety of your relationship with Michael he felt like a predator, stalking you, laying claim to you. You never felt a desire to claim him in return, to choose him. Only in hindsight are you realizing how messed up that was, to only be an object to someone, a prize to be won like Jasmine in Aladdin. 

You pull back to look at Jongin and can’t help the broad smile you give him. With him, you’re definitely not just prey to be captured, though he seems more than willing to lay chase.

You’re not just the mouse. Tonight, with him, you’re also the cat, and you’re ready to pursue him as well. 

Turning in his arms you move and press your back to his solid chest. He picks up right where you left off, his strong hands grasping your hips and finding the rhythm again. 

As the song goes on you relax into the bass of the beat, reveling in the sensation of being in his embrace. Feeling bold, you reach an arm up to hold onto his neck, pulling yourself flush against him. He doesn’t entirely manage to stifle the groan he makes and you bite your lip around your smile.

Sometime in between dancing to ‘No Diggity’ by Blackstreet and ‘Ready or Not’ by the Fugees the two of you grab another drink.

Standing at the bar, listening to Baekhyun tell some dramatic story, the only thing you can focus on is the way Jongin’s fingers toy with the skin of your hip. All you can feel through the thin fabric is heat and that desire low in your body feels like it reaches a fever pitch.

By the time your roommate arrives, looking like an Empress in a gold dress that is both classy and sexy, you’re absolutely feeling yourself. You wave to her and mouth to Jongin that you’re going to go talk to her. 

He nods and brushes his sweaty hair off his forehead, motioning towards the groups table with a nod. You can’t help but admire him as he walks away.

‘So it’s going well?’ your roommate asks in your ear, startling you.

She laughs, knowing full well that she just caught you checking him out. ‘Let’s get a drink!’ She links her arm through yours and pulls you to the bar.

The two of you find stools on the far end where it’s quieter and she fills you in on her internship mixer - boring - and you tell her about your night - decidedly not boring. She looks to the table the mall folks are occupying and stifles a laugh.

‘Girl, the way he’s watching you…’ she raises her eyebrows knowingly.

‘I know. I’m - I don’t know, I really, really like him. And I almost licked his neck while we were dancing so umm I’m clearly not opposed,’ you say. When you look at the table Jongin is laughing against Sehun’s shoulder and your heart does that melty thing again.

‘But…’ she prods. She’s heard the full saga of you and Michael and in the last few weeks she’s become one of your closest friends. ‘What’s holding you back?’

You run your hands through your hair and sigh. ‘I just ended things with my ex a few weeks ago. This whole thing with Jongin is… amazing. Wonderful. Electric. But it feels too real to rush into it when I’m still so fresh off of... you know. We were together for years, and I was so young.’

‘If you’re not ready, just tell him. He sounds like the kind of guy who would understand,’ she says.

The alcohol makes you both bold and cautious. Your mind and body want different things. One wants space to think, the other wants to rip off Jongin’s clothes and press yourself against him until there’s no space between you two.

‘I’ll figure it out,’ you sigh and finish your drink.

She pats your shoulder in amusement and downs the last of her drink as well. You walk her over to the table to introduce her to the rest of the group and it turns out that she and Hitchcock took a class together a few years ago at UW.

While they catch up Jongin reaches for your hand, rubbing your palm. He motions to the dance floor and raises a brow. You nod and smile at him, squeezing back.

When you resume your positions - his hands holding your thighs, your arms around his neck - he moves in closer, resting his forehead against yours. He draws his lip between his teeth to chew on, as if deciding something. You watch the motion and want to whine at the intensity of your attraction to him.

He watches you closely. You can feel his warm breath across your lips. When he reaches a hand to cup your cheek he bends closer. Something inside you commands you to stop him. A sense that this wouldn’t be right yet.

Gently, you lift your hands to his shoulders and ease him back. ‘Jongin, you have no idea how much I want to be with you.’ You call over the music, holding his gaze so he can see how much you mean it. ‘How much I want to kiss you right now.’

His brows pull together, his thumb stroking your cheek seemingly against his intention. ‘I’m sensing a but here.’

You take his hand in yours and pull him towards the hallway that leads to the bathroom. He puts himself between you and the club, protecting you like always. Now it’s your turn to protect him.

‘I can’t ask you to wait for me, but I need some time,’ you start. ‘I just want to stand on my own two feet for a while. You met Michael, you saw what he was like. He took over my entire life.’ His expression turns sharp at the mention of Michael.

‘I need to separate out what parts of me belonged to him and what’s truly me. I spent so long defining myself by what he wanted I just - I want to know who I am first. Can you understand that?’

He nods, his expression softening. This time when he gently cups your face he presses a kiss to your forehead, so softly you can barely feel it. But oh, do you feel it.

You hold onto his arms and pull back to look him dead in the eyes, needing to make sure he understands what you’re saying. ‘I want to make sure I’m completely myself, I want to be able to give you all of me. It feels really important.’

The corner of his mouth lifts and his eyes are warm when he meets yours. Gently, he takes your hands in his. For long seconds he simply watches you, smile blooming into a grin as he rubs his thumbs over your palms.

As surely as Michael did, you feel him claiming you. Not with aggression and words and possessiveness, but with a tenderness that warms you from your toes to the tip of your head.

He lifts them to his lips, not breaking eye contact as he presses a kiss to each palm. Warmth of a different kind blooms between your legs as the heat in his eyes turns mischievous for a beat before turning sincere.

‘I’m a patient man. I’m here if you need, however you need. I care about you, this doesn’t have to be romantic unless you want it to be.’

‘Thank you, Jongin. I’m so happy to have you in my life,’ you say.

You lean up and press a kiss to his cheek, heart melting as his cheeks turn pink. He leads you back to the group and you sigh with relief. Now I just have to figure out who I am. Fantastic, you think.

Wednesday April 2nd, 1997

It happens as you and Jongin are leaving his class one night. Spring has finally arrived in the Northwest and you’re happy, laughing at some joke Jongin told you.

Neither of you are prepared for Michael appearing from behind the large dumpsters next to the employee parking. One moment you’re enjoying the satisfying post-exercise glow and admiring the way Jongin’s hair looks when it’s sweaty and pushed off his forehead, and the next you’re screaming in alarm as the two of them fall to the ground.

Jongin grunts as he slams to the concrete, rolling to the side in an attempt to get Michael off of him. If he wasn’t wearing his signature patched leather jacket you’d hardly have recognized him - hair unkempt, beard scraggly, a wild look in his eyes that frightens you.

The first punch Michael swings hits Jongin’s shoulder. It forces you out of your shock and into action. You yell for help. Luckily it’s a busy night and two women you recognize from the bookstore are walking by.

‘We’ll get security!’ one of them calls out as they rush off towards the mall. A few other people linger nearby, unsure if or how to intervene.

Jongin’s quick reflexes help him dodge Michael’s wild blows and they land on the concrete. It must bruise and scrape his hands, but in the state he’s in he hardly seems to notice.

You get closer, horribly afraid Michael will hurt Jongin seriously. He’s so unpredictable, especially on drugs, that he could have a knife or even a gun on him. Finally, he leans to the side to pull back for another punch and you dart forward.

Grabbing the back of his jacket you pull to the side with all your might, attempting to throw him off. ‘Michael, stop it! Get off him!’

He bends back further, twisting so his arm swings toward you and catches you in the stomach. You grunt and stagger backwards.

‘Stay the fuck out of this. He needs to know you’re mine.’ He says last word on a growl.

You pull out the thick teacher training binder from your bag, prepared to smack him upside the head, when you hear someone call ‘Hey!’ from behind you.

Two of the men who work at the pizza parlor are running over. The taller man, Chanyeol, you think, lunges for Michael with no hesitation. His height and strength allow him to do what you couldn’t and he pulls Michael to the side and onto the concrete. A shorter man with a strong brow follows behind Chanyeol, reaching to hold Michael’s arm back while Chanyeol holds his legs.

You hear them arguing and grunting and turn your attention to Jongin.

You bend down next to him, wincing at the pain in your side. ‘Oh my God, are you okay?’

Jongin nods, sitting up with a grimace. ‘I’ll be fine, he’s so hyped out on whatever he took that his aim was awful. Did he get you?’ He reaches a hand to cup your jaw, concern in his eyes.

You reach for a napkin from your bag to press to the cut in Jongin’s forehead. ‘He did, but it’s fine. It’s not too -’

‘Dale, get the cuffs,’ an assertive voice calls from behind you.

You and Jongin watch as Dale, Leeteuk, and another security officer help the two men from Barada. They manage to get Michael into handcuffs and drag him off towards the mall.

‘When you’re up for it tonight come to the office and we’ll take your statements,’ Leeteuk says when he passes you and Jongin.

You both nod. The ache in your abdomen is sharp and you focus on breathing deeply. Even after he disappears inside you can still hear Michael’s frantic, wild voice yelling.

Chanyeol sighs, dusting off his hands and shaking his head. He comes over and helps Jongin stand. ‘You alright man? What the hell was that? Soo and I were coming back from a meeting and Mel passed us yelling her head off about Jongin being attacked in the parking lot.’

You stand and wrap your arms around yourself, hating the entire situation, feeling miserable. Jongin takes a few steps, wincing and reaching a hand for his probably bruised hip. He brings his other arm around you and pulls you against him gently.

‘Her ex boyfriend. Real piece of work. Thanks for being there Chan, that guy was out of control.’

‘No problem, I know you’d do the same for me in a heartbeat.’

The shorter man looks at you and Jongin. ‘You guys okay? Anything we can do to help?’

Jongin looks at you and you shake your head. ‘No, but thanks Soo,’ he says, patting his shoulder.

The crowd that had gathered breaks us as everyone heads back towards the mall or their cars. You and Jongin support each other and walk back into KOKO.

Paige looks up when you enter and gasps. ‘What happened?’ She moves around the desk and supports Jongin on his other side. The two of you get him into a chair in her office.

‘Michael happened.’ Jongin lets out a small groan as he sinks into the seat.

She purses her lips. ‘Did security come?’

‘Yeah, Leeteuk and Dale were there. After we get ourselves sorted we’re going to make a statement.’

You duck your head, running an anxious hand across your forehead. Sadness, frustration, dread all fill your mind but guilt takes center stage as you sneak a look at the blood on Jongin’s forehead.

‘I’ll leave you two to rest, but I’m just out here if you need me,’ Paige says with concern. ‘There’s a first aid kit in the top right drawer of the cabinet behind you.’

When the door shuts you push down your emotions and stand to get the kit. Jongin waits for you to pull the chair around, waits while you open the white box and take out a medicated wipe to clean off the blood. He patiently waits until you finish putting a bandage on the cut and finally look him in the eye before he speaks.

‘Are you alright?’ he asks quietly.

You nod, tears forming at the corners of your eyes. ‘I’m fine, I just feel awful. Jongin, I’m so sorry. He had no right and I couldn’t get him off you and -’

He cuts you off by leaning forward and wrapping his arms around you. You rest your forehead on his shoulder and cry, letting the stress and emotion work its way out of you. ‘It’s not your fault.’

‘You’ll probably want nothing to do with me now,’ you mumble against the fabric of his shirt.

He pulls back and brushes your hair behind your ears. ‘No, don’t do that. Don’t you take on what he did. That’s on him. Not you. You’re not responsible for him.’

When you don’t speak he carries on. ‘Do you really think anything could scare me away from you? Even if we’re not dating, we’re still friends, right?’

You nod. ‘Okay, fine. But I’m still going to feel awful about this for the next hmm, twenty years or so.’

He laughs and wipes off your tears with his thumbs. ‘And I’ll be right there to tell you that just because your ex is a psycho, it’s not your fault.’ When you open your mouth to object he stands. ‘No buts. Now let’s get this over with at security, I’m sure we could both use dinner.’

You laugh. ‘Okay, you’re right, I’m starving. And I definitely need a long, hot shower tonight.’

He leads the way out of the office, favoring one of his legs with a good-natured wince. ‘That’s the spirit.’

Tuesday June 21st, 1997

Against all odds, life resumes its normal flow. Days are filled with classes, working at the desk, continuing teacher training, and settling into the group of friends you’ve made at the mall.

Even though Leeteuk said that Michael would serve a minimum of six months for his assault charge, there is always the threat that he’ll be out earlier for good behavior. But you’re determined to move on, throwing yourself into building a life free of him.

Your roommate and Hitchcock introduce you to the many incredible vintage stores downtown. Shari’s becomes a regular hangout during the Spring and on into the Summer. You and your sister discover a quiet cafe inside an indie bookstore with a view of the water and try to spend a morning a week there, reading together.

Work is steady and enjoyable. You love the balance between working with customers and organizing the paperwork. Between working with Michelle and Jongin and Jennifer, the ballet teacher, Paige thinks you’ll be ready to start teaching on your own in the fall.

And then there’s Jongin, the dominant figure in your life the past few months. There’s hardly a day you aren’t together between work and dinners and nights out dancing and movie nights with the group. You know he’s waiting patiently to see how you’re feeling, but like always he doesn’t push you, content to just be with you.

Your sister joins you for lunch on a break between her classes after stopping in to say hi to the kids at the daycare. When you’re sitting down eating your slices of pizza, she strikes.

‘So, when are you going to tell Jongin you’re in love with him?’ she asks, making you choke on your sip of Diet Coke.

‘Excuse me?’ you say between coughs.

She thumps your back twice to help. ‘I didn’t mean to kill you, sorry. I just -’ she waves her hands in the air. ‘I know you’re on Self-Discovery Quest 97 and all, which of course I fully support. I’m your sister, I love you. You know I’d support you through anything. But literally you look at him like you want to jump into his arms and kiss him for the next century every time you’re together.’

You wince and take another enormous bite of pizza. ‘Is it that obvious?’ you ask around a full mouth.

‘Yes,’ she says. ‘It’s clear you both want to be together. Any you’re well on your way to figuring out what you want. I’m just wondering why you’re forcing yourself to hold back? I’m your sister, you know you can tell me anything.’

You let out a sigh. ‘Do you know what Michelle’s theme was for today’s class?’

She shakes her head and you carry on. ‘It was desire. And the way Jongin looked at me… the way I was absolutely, probably, looking at him? It scares me.’

‘Why?’

‘What if it’s like Michael? What if I give everything to him and it turns bad? What if I lose myself again?’ you ask frantically. ‘This would hurt even worse. Sure, I liked Tacoma and the studio, but here feels like home. Seattle, the mall, KOKO. What if being together ruins what we have now?’

‘First off - he’s not Michael. There was always something off about that boy, I just had no idea it was as bad as it was,’ she says, guilt on her features. ‘But Jongin is sincere. He loves you too, I’m certain of it.’

‘How do you know?’

She smiles, looking nostalgic. ‘Because he shows it with his actions, not just his words. Has he ever hurt you? Betrayed you? Done anything other than proved to you he wants you?’

You think back to everything that’s passed between the two of you. He gave you support, space, protection, encouragement. She’s right. He’s done nothing but prove himself to be a good man.

‘No. He’s perfect. I want him so badly, in every way.’

‘He clearly chooses you, sis. All you have to do if you want him is be brave enough to trust him and choose him back,’ she says quietly. ‘It’s the easiest and the hardest thing in the world to do.’

‘When did you get so wise? Does it have anything to do with that dad you keep hanging out with?’ you tease, enjoying the blush on her cheeks when she looks towards the antiques shop.

She makes an X with her arms. ‘Oh no, we are not talking about me right now. This is about you,’ she says, standing. ‘And the fact that you need to tell Jongin you’re in love with him.’

She throws her napkin at you and you laugh, tossing yours at her in return and standing to chase her around the table.

Wednesday July 2nd, 1997

At Baekhyun’s pre-Fourth of July party Jongin waits for you in the kitchen. He pours drinks and listens to Baekhyun’s stories, saving the girl from the jewelry store from his friend’s overly enthusiastic yelling.

He thinks to himself that she’s very nice, but clearly in love with Chanyeol. When the man in question comes into the kitchen they share a look so full of passion and longing he wants to snort into his beer and say ‘been there, friends.’

Instead he turns around to get another drink and almost runs into your sister. ‘Hey, how’s it going? Are you looking for Jun? I think he’s around here somewhere,’ he says.

She waves him off and fixes him with her best stern look. ‘No, I’m here to give you the talk.’

‘The talk?’ he asks, raising a brow.

She blows a strand of hair off her face and smothers a laugh. ‘Look, I’m her sister, not her parent. I haven’t done this before, so bear with me.’

He frowns in confusion. ‘I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about. Did something happen? Is she okay?’

She reaches a hand to his shoulder to reassure him. ‘Oh, she’s fine. Trust me. I just - go with me on this sitcom moment here. I like you Jongin. I think you’re a good man and I trust you.’

‘Thank you,’ he nods, pleased. He waves her on.

‘I’m trusting you with the person most important to me in the world, okay? If you hurt her I’ll - well, I don’t know. I’m opposed to violence, but I’ll think of something,’ she laughs. ‘Just... please treat her well. I know you will, I just need you to say it.’

He runs a hand along his neck. ‘Trust me, all I want is to love her and keep her safe. She deserves the world and for all her dreams to come true. I want to give that to her. But.. we’re just friends right now, I think. Unless she’s said something to you?’

She looks satisfied and nods, holding out a hand officially for him to shake. ‘Thank you Jongin.’ A moment later she nods to something behind him. ‘As for the second part, you’ll find out very soon I imagine.’

He turns and sees you standing at the entrance, holding your hands nervously and looking around the party. He turns, saluting your sister with his cup, and walks over to you.

It never fails to set his heart and skin alight when you turn your attention to him. The way you brighten at his presence would be enough to last him his entire life. But he has a feeling that he might get even more of you tonight.

‘Hi,’ you say brightly.

‘Hey yourself, want a drink?’

You exhale deeply, biting your lip. ‘Not right now. Could we go talk? Outside maybe?’

‘Sure, lead the way your highness,’ he teases, earning him an amused look.

The two of you head into Baekhyun’s backyard, surrounded by trees. The warm red painted deck is strung up with twinkly lights that you both know is the work of Hitchcock, not the man himself. He follows you to the side of the house by the large Evergreen tree.

Before he can ask what’s up, you speak. ‘Do you want to go watch the fireworks at the mall with me?’

He blinks. ‘Umm, I thought we already were going? All of us, roof of the mall, eight o’clock? You and I are bringing the mixers.’

You look torn, a million emotions flying through your expression and something in him tells him to be patient. After a minute you step closer, resting your hands lightly on his arms. He takes a step back until he’s leaning against the house, watching you intently.

When you look up at him your expression is resolved, fixed on him in a way it never has before. ‘I don’t just mean as friends Jongin. As… more.’

He tentatively reaches for your hips, feeling like his hands belong there. ‘Are you sure?’

You smile up at him and time stops. He resists the urge to pick you up and capture your lips with his. Barely.

‘Yes, I’m sure. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate the space you gave me,’ you say. ‘I finally feel like me. When Michelle asked us to think about what we wanted today, I thought about many things. But mostly I thought about you.’

He grins, feeling the urge to beat his chest and roar with triumph. ‘Okay, then. I’d love to go with you to the fireworks as… more.’

‘Excellent,’ you say, swaying towards him.

It feels like the universe gives you a push. In one breath you’re standing toe to toe with him against the house. In the next you’ve pressed yourself against him, stepped between his legs to form your body to his. Soft meeting hard, need against need.

His arms wrap around your waist with a sigh and your hands find their way into his hair. For long moments you lean into him, body relaxing even as your heart is hammering in your chest.

He breathes with you, warm air trailing along the skin of your shoulder. You smile against him, your cheek pressed to his. How can one man make you so excited that you feel like you’re flying, but also calm your heart and make you feel safer than you’ve ever felt before?

Eventually you pull back and marvel at him. The way the wind moves his hair across his forehead. You ruffle it up and he laughs, a warm sound.

Emboldened by your touch he lifts a hand to trace the line of your face, trailing his fingers your cheek and along your jaw. His thumb rubs lightly against your lower lip and your mouth opens, already hungry for him but in no rush to end this moment.

The two of you have been dancing around each other for months, literally and figuratively, and now that the time is finally here for you to know what it’s like to kiss him you’re suddenly worried it won’t live up to your imagination. What if you’re a terrible kisser? What if you have no chemistry together?

As you look into his warm brown eyes, lit up by the strands of lights around the backyard, any doubts fall away. A half-smile plays on his lips and suddenly you can’t help it anymore - you cup his face with both your hands and press your lips against his.

He groans against you, half in relief and half in what sounds like pleasure. 

Easily he picks up after your first move. Like he was born to know your body he runs a hand down your side, leaving heat in his wake and finding a home on your hip, anchoring you to him. With his other he holds your jaw delicately, his broad hand dragging along the delicate skin of your neck.

When he moves, sliding his lips across yours, you can’t remember a single other thing. Just like his hands his mouth is hot, sensual, and just a little rough. The sheer intensity radiating off of him is a match striking the passion inside you.

Suddenly, you can’t get close enough. Your hands tangle in his hair, pulling. His hand strokes along the barely covered skin of your lower back making you keenly aware of the need pooling low in your body. His tongue darts out to taste the seam of your lips.

With a groan, you open for him. Your mouth, your body, your heart belongs to him. And he knows it, given the possessive way he holds you, claims you with his tongue and his hands. Lost in sensation, giddy at the fact that you’re finally both here and ready, you think to yourself that the earth could cease to be and you’d hardly notice.

His leg slides between yours, grinding itself teasingly against your sensitive core, and you pull back on a gasp to look at him. His lips are red and his tongue swipes along his bottom lip.

‘I’ve wanted to kiss you so badly,’ he whispers. His voice is lower than you’ve ever heard, full of need.

‘Thank you for waiting for me.’ You lean your forehead against his, running your hands along his shoulders, his arms.

He nods, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. ‘I’d wait forever for you. But I’m delighted to finally get to be yours.’

His words crack your heart open with fierce pleasure. You know he’ll never lie to you, push you to do things you don’t want to or expect you to be anything but who you are. Tears form at the corners of your eyes and you press your mouth to his again. Softer this time; deeper, sweeter.

If the first kiss was his claiming of your heart, this one is a kiss of discovery of something you feel like you’ve always known. 

As he cradles you against him, tucked against his body and held by his strong hands, you realize that you don’t need to claim him. He’s always been yours, since the first moment you saw each other perhaps.

You smile into the kiss. When you sigh into his open mouth, pressing gently against the firm muscle of his legs, the real world suddenly intrudes.

‘Sis, where are you? Helloooo?’ comes your sister’s voice from the backyard.

You laugh, giddy. Jongin’s an adorable mess, hair askew, lips red, shirt half-untucked. You’re sure you’re just as bad. 

You cling to his shoulders, laughing against him. ‘Coming!’ you call out.

Friday July 4th, 1997

Twilight falls on Seattle, lighting up the city as darkness descends. The setting Summer sun illuminates the Cascades and you gasp, exuberant at the gorgeous sight from the rooftop. It also doesn’t hurt that the man you love stands behind you.

Jongin glows tonight, a lightness and a joy seem to spill from him. He steps away to help Baekhyun set up the keg, smiling so much his eyes disappear and crinkles form in the corners. He darts back to press a kiss to your head first and you grin.

You all pass the time until the fireworks start with games. Sehun loses at Never Have I Ever and has to do the Macarena for a solid minute. He’s saved by the sound of explosions and splashes of color across the sky.

The fireworks from the Space Needle make you swoon. They light up all the buildings downtown and reflect across Lake Washington. Jongin holds you against him, hands on your waist. You rest your hands over his and turn to look up at him.

The fireworks are reflected in his eyes and your heart feels like it explodes as well. ‘I love you Jongin,’ you say, unable to keep it in.

He grins at you, eyes wide with feeling, looking for all the world like a star brought down to earth. ‘I love you too.’

You spin in his arms and practically launch yourself at him. He catches you easily and holds you while you kiss him with vigor. The group of friends around you whoops and cheers. 

‘Get a room!’ Baekhyun teases.

‘Want to go somewhere more… private?’ Jongin asks against your lips, laughing.

You nod, unable to stop the blissed-out smile you give him. He finds your coats and you grab your purse, waving goodbye to the group. 

The moment the door to the rooftop closes Jongin pulls you into his arms again, pressing you against the wall and kissing down your neck. His hands trail heat along your arms, your side, settling on your hips.

‘Please don’t be gentle with me tonight,’ you plead against his shoulder, tugging at the hair at the nape of his neck.

‘As you wish,’ he growls against your skin. 

He bends and slides his hands to cup your ass. In one fluid motions he pulls you into his arms and holds you against the wall with his hips. He slides his teeth along the skin of your neck and lets out a groan.

You cling to him while he walks down the blessedly empty stairwell through the mall. While he walks you kiss along his jaw, teasing the flesh behind his ear. That makes his hands tighten on your ass, so you repeat the motion on the other side.

He reluctantly sets you down when you reach the door to the mall. The heat in his eyes lets you know this night is far from over and you thank the heavens. You hold his hand in yours and dash across the dark space. 

The light from the fireworks is visible through the domed, glass ceiling and your footsteps echo in the wide open space.

You fumble for your key to the studio in your bag, Jongin’s heavy breathing against your ear makes it hard to think. He chuckles and presses his mouth to your shoulder, smiling against the skin there. You smile in response, feeling lighter than air as you finally locate the key and unlock the door. He guides you inside.

Both of you head for your favorite corner studio at the back. When you open the door much of the window is blocked by the greenery that lines the mall’s sidewalk, but plenty of light spills in from the streetlights.

You cup his face in your hands and pull him to you, slanting your lips against his. He reaches for you again, mouth hungry against yours, but you move and hold his hands. You take a step back and raise a brow at him.

‘Sit here for me, will you?’ you ask, voice low and thick with arousal.

He nods, taking a steadying breath and running his hands through his hair. He crosses his legs and spreads out on the floor with his back against the mirrored wall. His arousal is evident and straining against his jeans, even in the low light, as he stretches his legs out. But like always, he waits, watches, gives you the space you need.

Before you lose your nerve you kick off your heels and pull the clip holding up your hair. The weight of it settles on your shoulders, teasing the bare skin of your shoulders revealed by your dress. 

You wish there was music to make you brave, to ground you. But you breathe and focus on Jongin to steady your nerves. His appraisal is all the aphrodisiac you need.

You approach him, coming to stand with your toes touching his stretched out heels. Emboldened by the heat and need running through your veins you reach down for the edge of your dress. Once it’s over your head you toss it to the side and look around.

It would have terrified you, intimidated you, to see yourself reflected on every wall of the room. Once, an eternity ago, you would have folded in upon yourself; tried to disappear at the sheer intensity and love coming from his eyes as he takes you in.

You lower your lashes for a beat, staring at the floor. For long breaths you savor the magic of being in love with this man, the way his consistent attention and never-fading sincerity make you feel safe and held.

Your mouth tugs slowly back into a smile when you meet his gaze once more. This time, as you lift your hands to tug off your bra your motions are sure, decided.

He takes in every inch of exposed flesh reverently, like he’s looking at the finest art he’s ever seen. Unable to hold himself back, he reaches for your bare calves, easing you closer to him. The first soft kiss he presses to your thigh makes you shiver. The second makes you moan and reach for his hair to steady yourself.

He looks up at your face for hints of hesitation. 'Do you want this? Do you want me?' his voice cracks on the last syllable, a vulnerability of his own that slips out with the force of his longing.

You know in your bones that he'd wait forever for you. He'd never pressure or coerce. He'll never take more from you than you're hoping to give. Emotion rises in you as you stand there, sliding your hands to cup his face while he resumes his path in learning your body. Giving you time.

Even though he's never been inside of you, you already know that he'll always leave you fuller than before. His lips ghost along the exposed skin of your knee. You know that every time with him will leave you raw and seen.

Every time with him will be a miracle, you think. But this first time your need is so strong it feels like a wildfire will overtake you. If there's one thing you want to hold onto from this it's the way his hands shake slightly as they slide up to your hips.

You smile and sit down, straddling his lap, clad in only your underwear. 'Yes. Jongin, please. I want all of you,’ you say and press a kiss to his temple.

He seems to feel it too, the way tonight will be a joining together. Not a taking, like with Michael. No, tonight will be a an etching of your name into his heart, his bones, his blood and his into yours.

He pulls back and you think you've never seen anyone shine brighter than the sun, even in this darkened room. His hands slide up your waist until his thumbs caress the undersides of your breasts and you let out a moan.

‘You and me? Officially?’ he says, unable to contain the bright, slightly smug grin that comes to his lips.

‘Yes.’ You hold his jaw in your hands, pressing a possessive kiss to his lips.

‘You.’ A kiss to his cheek that makes his eyes drift close.

‘Me.’ A slide of your lips against his neck that earns you a groan.

‘For real.’ When you find the pulse point behind his ear his hands dig into the flesh of your hips. 

You squeal as he pulls you flush against him. ‘Thank you for waiting for me,’ you whisper against his lips. You pull back and he’s watching you with a softness on his expression.

‘I would have waited forever for you.’ He brushes the hair off your forehead, tucking it behind your ear. ‘Thank God the wait is over though.’

He pulls you against him and stands, kissing along your neck and walking towards the stack of yoga mats. You squeal and hold onto him. ‘Agreed.’

Monday September 1st, 1997

You’re in the break room when the sound of gunfire comes from the direction of the mall. Other people might have mistaken it for a car backfiring or something similar, but instantly you know what it means.

Far enough away they sound muted by the distance. Close enough they make your hands shake. The hair on your arms stands on end and a sick feeling grows in your gut.

You set down your sandwich and dart cautiously down the hallway. Heads pop out of classrooms and studios and you motion for everyone to stay in their rooms.

‘It’s coming from the out there, stay inside and turn the lights off,’ you call to Michelle as you pass her by. She nods, her eyes alert.

Jongin meets you coming down the hallway, his bag still on his shoulder and his eyes wild with fear until they land on you. ‘Oh thank god.’

‘Is Paige-’ you start, clasping your hand in his and peeking around the corner into the front desk.

‘She called security as soon as we heard it. She’s safe, don’t worry,’ he answers, squeezing your hand.

‘I have an awful feeling about this,’ you start, voice barely above a whisper.

He holds you around the waist, solid and comforting. The two of you look through the glass doors that lead out into the mall. Dale, Leeteuk, and several other security officers dart past. The uproar seems to be centered on the jewelry store at the far end.

He pulls you fully into his arms, holding you close enough to him that you can feel his heart beating where your chests are pressed together. With an anxious sigh you bury your head in the warm skin of his neck, breathing, waiting.

After a minute the sound of gunfire comes again and you look up, the sound of shouting echoing through the mall. Three police officers work their way through the crowd of people that surround the store. 

Dale emerges after a beat, pulling a man in handcuffs. Dark hair, dark sweatshirt, unmistakable expression on his angry face.

The horrible feeling in your gut spreads through your body, engulfing you. ‘Oh my god.’

Jongin follows your look and his mouth tightens into a line at seeing Michael. He rubs your shoulders comfortingly, his eyes warm and sympathetic. ‘It’s okay, you’re safe.’

Fear chokes you. ‘Jongin, what if he hurt someone. It’s all my faul-’

His hands at your shoulders tighten a fraction, his expression turning fierce. ‘No. It’s not. He made his choices. You’re not responsible for this, okay?’

Panic wars with guilt and you draw your eyes back to the mall, unable to look away. ‘Can we…? Please, I have to know if anyone was hurt.’

He nods, looking across to the jewelry store and deciding the threat has passed. He presses a kiss to your forehead before grasping your hand in his and pushing you into the atrium. 

In the crowd you see many people you recognize. Friends, frequent patrons of the gym, co-workers. The mall feels like home, you realize as you walk, and these people feel like family.

Michael notices you, his eyes dangerous, but subdued and unfocused. Probably as a result of the enormous stains of blood blooming on his sweatshirt. 

Anxiously you scan the crowd as it breaks up, people resuming their lives now that the danger has passed. Chanyeol pulls a girl into his arms and you recognize her as the cashier from the jewelry store. She seems shaken, but unhurt.

You spot Leeteuk and he walks over, running his hand through his hair. He nods at your approach. ‘Hey guys. What a fucking day.’

‘Was anyone hurt? What happened?’ you ask.

He shakes his head and gives you a grim smile. ‘No, thank God. He shot like a wild stallion but he didn’t hit anyone. Took aim at Dale and he dropped him with two to the shoulder.’

You gasp and cover your mouth with a hand. Jongin gives your waist a reassuring squeeze.

‘Don’t worry, he’ll be going away for a long, long time,’ LT says.

‘Thanks, man,’ Jongin says, leaning over to press a kiss to your hair.

‘No problem.’

‘Let’s get out of here,’ he says softly in your ear. ‘It’s over. Finally.’

Wednesday February 11th, 1998

The sunlight in the apartment is warm and yellow, stretching across the sea of boxes still to be unpacked, the mismatched end tables and chairs.

You turn in your brand new bed, still baffled and delighted to find yourself in Jongin’s arms, in the new apartment you’d just moved into together.

The weight of his arm around your waist, the smell of his skin, the morning light - all of it should be perfect.

But a nagging fear rises in your throat. Confusion, swiftly followed by the first hints of tears, push you to gently leave your boyfriend sleeping. He frowns at the absence of your warmth beside him in his sleep.

In the early morning light you tiptoe to the stairs of the loft, wrapping a blanket around your shoulders and letting whatever emotion is prompting this work it’s way out of you one tear at a time.

After a few minutes you hear Jongin stir in bed, his sleepy voice calls your name softly. A beat later you feel him behind you, his legs sliding alongside yours, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you to his chest.

As always, he doesn’t push you, never forcing you to speak or act before you’re ready. In all the months you’ve known him, through the highs and lows of a new relationship, he’s never changed. Instead he’s only become more steady and grounded by your love. You both have.

He says you were the missing piece he never knew he needed. Something about you brings out the best in him, your relationship the touchstone that sees him through all else, and you know you feel the same.

He sits on the stair behind you, gently easing you into his arms against his chest. For long minutes he presses kisses to the top of your head, keeps the blanket wrapped around you, runs his fingers through your hair.

Eventually the knot in your chest loosens, the fear that burned in your throat passes, cleansed by tears.

You wipe your eyes with the edge of the blanket and sigh, turning and resting your cheek against the bare skin of his chest.

‘I’m sorry if I worried you,’ you start, clearing your throat around the thickness there.

‘You know I’ll never rush you.’ His voice is a low rumble against your cheek.

You nod against him, grinning and pressing a kiss against his bare chest. When you meet his eyes once again you’re in disbelief that this isn’t all a dream. That he’s really here and yours.

But the two of you built your relationship, brick by brick, together. You weren’t merely someone who was chosen. You chose him, chose this. Alongside him and your friends and your sister you built yourself back up into a stronger person.

The things you went through, all the past and history that you once thought would drag you down, only made you into someone who knows her worth and her strength.

You never let life rob you of your hope and love. ‘I thought good things couldn’t last,’ you start and his brow furrows in confusion.

You giggle and turn, kneeling in front of him and smoothing the creases with your thumb before pressing a kiss to his forehead.

‘I thought eventually things would go wrong, somehow’ you continue and his eyes soften in understanding, his hands coming to rub along your arms. ‘But here you are, proving me wrong. Day after day.’

He closes his eyes and smiles, pulling you into an awkward hug on the stairs. You wrap him in your arms as well, holding him closer than you ever thought it was possible to hold someone. His knee might be digging into your side, your hair messily strewn across his face; a bewildering puzzle of body parts and hands and hearts that makes you grin.

But when he breathes, settling against you, you can’t help but feel like you’ve never fit with anyone like this. And you’re never going to let him go.

#kpopwonderlandtag #exosnet #jongin x reader #kai x reader #exo x reader #exo au #jongin fanfic #jongin imagine #jongin smut #jongin scenario #kai fanfic #kai imagine #kai smut #kai scenario #IT LIVES #FINALLYYYYY

[aaronhart93-archive]

discord II text Roman & Aaron

Discord thread featuring: Aaron and @romanbeckett​

Mentions: @davieslandon​ @malakhai-ozera​ @jayceelynd​ @alison-haynes​

Where: Aaron is at his house and Roman is at his house.

When: evening of May 26th-monrning of May 27th, 11:30p-2:30a

Description: Roman texts Aaron and they talk all night until they both fall asleep

Trigger Warnings: smut, what I would imagine harry’s peen to look like, really cute shit

Roman.

Hey.

Aaron.

hi

Roman.

Khai broke up with me, so. With us.

with Jay and I. And he left.

Aaron.

oh my god...im sorry Ro

Roman.

Can’t say I didn’t see it coming.

Aaron.

what did he say? Like why...?

Roman.

He told us that he loved us but needed time to work on himself or whatever.

Aaron.

I don’t know Khai that well but it does seem like he’s got a lot of shit to figure out

how are you doing with it?

and jayc? Should I reach out to her or....does she not know we’re talking

Roman.

you can talk to her if you want. I think we both just don’t really know how to feel to be honest.

Aaron.

im sorry

i hope he's okay

and i hope you and Jayc are okay too

Roman.

don’t be lol honestly Aaron, I set myself up for it the second I agreed to close myself off, knowing all of the issues I need to work through as well

contrary to popular belief, I’m far from having it all figured out.

Aaron.

that makes two of us

that was quick tbh

Roman.

Yeah. I just feel like an idiot.

Aaron.

what no....thats not what i meant

Roman.

anyway.

how are you

Aaron.

okay....no please dont feel like an idiot. its his fault not yours

im....okay....getting better than i was last week

miss you though not gonna lie

Roman.

I miss you, too. A lot.

Aaron

:(

im sorry

idk why i am i just feel like i need to apologize

Roman.

you have nothing to be sorry for lol at all

if anything, I’m sorry.

for bringing you into all this drama

and making you eat at a Chinese buffet lol

Aaron.

making me eat at a Chinese buffet is the only thing you have to be sorry for

also

i inserted myself into this mess as well. and didn't pull out once i realized who you were to landon

Roman.

does it make me immature if I laugh at you saying you didn’t pull out once?

Aaron.

RO

YES BUT IM HERE FOR IT

Roman.

I might just be high, but now I can’t stop laughing lol

Aaron.

sksjks

im sober and laughing so

well not sober

i had a few drinks

Roman.

everyone knows you’re a lightweight Aaron, stop tryin’ to be sly lol

Aaron.

who you callin a lightweight, lightweight?

Roman.

only when I haven’t eaten anything LIGHTWEIGHT

Aaron.

https://tenor.com/view/uncalled-gif-5394176

michelle tanner voice

Roman.

You miss me. Just a reminder.

Aaron.

you miss me

another reminder

Roman.

I’m not the one calling you rude lol

Aaron.

you called me out for being a lightweight and i retaliated

forgive me

Roman.

you’re in denial is what you are :fingerguns2:

but I’ll forgive you.

Aaron.

idk you'd think for how much i drink i'd have a higher tolerance

i need therapy

Roman.

probably lol I’ll go with you

Aaron.

lol couples counseling?

jk

jk

Roman.

I actually think it would be quite funny to see what they have to say about US

Aaron.

i need a therapist to tell it like it is

then again i do have ali

that woman calls me out on my shit literally daily

maybe shes just a free therapist

Roman.

LMAO that’s...amazing. I like her already.

Aaron.

she do be driving me up a wall

but

shes family

Roman.

Ah, family. I’ve been trying to get my sister here, but she’s being an ass lol

Aaron.

asshat

who wouldn’t want to move to New York

Roman.

satans demons.

Aaron.

exactly

whats keeping her from coming?

Roman.

she’s not as hellbent on big cities as I am lol

Aaron.

weird

city life has always been for me

arent you from manchester? is that not a big city?

Roman.

it’s not New York lol

she lives in the country now though.

Aaron.

no city is new york

Roman.

exactly lol

Aaron.

what are you doing

besides getting high

Roman.

I’m naked on the couch eating cherry gilato while watching good mythical morning on YouTube

Aaron.

i would very much like to be naked on a couch with you

Roman.

I painted my nails and did a facial first lol i could do yours as well

Aaron.

ill take the facial

i couldn't pull off the nails though

Roman.

you’d look so kickass with some black nails

Aaron.

you think?

Roman.

hell yes. Even a sky blue, like those eyes

Aaron.

i blush

maybe we can try the toe nails first

in case I end up hating them

Roman.

OH, I’m also trained in Swedish massage, head to toe. If you want a personal spa day

Aaron.

that would just give me a boner

Roman.

well, it’s a FULL body massage after all.

Aaron.

sksjsks

dont tempt me

Roman.

Aaron. I just.

is it bad that I don’t want to stay away from you anymore?

that’s a dumb question

I know it’s bad.

Aaron.

its not dumb

I don’t want to stay away from you either

but I promised Landon

Roman.

I know. So did I.

You’re right, I’m sorry.

Aaron.

he’s my best friend

dont be sorry

im glad you’re being honest with me

I just don’t see Landon being okay with this anytime soon

Roman.

I know! I know. He’s mine too, and I care about him more than I care to admit. I shouldn’t be like this.

Aaron.

damn this is fucked up

Roman.

I shouldn’t have said anything

Aaron.

I wish this could be easier

im the one that started with the boner references

Roman.

Not really. I offered you a massage

Aaron.

okay yes but

I told you I wanted to be naked with you

Roman.

because I said I was naked

Aaron.

I just don’t want you blaming yourself that’s all

Roman.

I know, but it is what it is. I made a mess of everything, and now everything I had is ruined lol I deserve it.

Aaron.

Ro

I’m sad you think so little of yourself

Roman.

I don’t. It’s just consequences. I made bad decisions, and now I have to deal with the consequences. That’s all. It’ll all be okay.

Aaron.

I wish I could make you feel better

Roman.

you already do. I promise.

Aaron.

I just smiled

Roman.

show me?

Aaron.

sure

Roman.

omg bad idea my heart

Aaron.

oop

Roman.

you’re so fucking jahshsbzjdndjendj

Aaron.

AKDJDJAKALhdja

Roman.

I’m mad at you

for looking like that

Aaron.

Well i can’t stop thinking about u

Roman.

let me just

Aaron.

yeah I kept drinking

and as we’ve established I’m a lightweight

okay I showed you a selfie now you should be a selfie

Roman.

oh yeah? Trying to boss me around again are ya?

Aaron.

do what daddy says

Roman.BOTToday at 2:02 AM

yes daddy.

Aaron.

brb gotta go jack off

Roman.

stoppppp

Aaron.

not kidding

Roman.

you don’t need a better picture than that to do the deed

??? Lolll

Aaron.

I mean....you could send me some

Roman.BOTToday at 2:09 AM

Does this help?

Aaron.

holy fuck

ugh I wanna fuck you so bad

and put all of you in my mouth

Roman.

I want it too. I shouldn’t, but I do. I want you to fuck me with my hands tied behind my back, and you pulling on my collar from behind.

Aaron.

fuck don’t put those thoughts in my head or I’ll act up

I wanna tie you up so bad

and punish you for being so naughty

Roman.

I’d want to call out your name so loud, but you’d have to let me.

Aaron.

you can’t do anything without my permission

Roman.

I’ll do my best daddy. You know I like to make you proud.

Aaron.

Ro I just came into a sock so hard

I want you so bad but the fact I can’t have you makes that even hotter to me

Roman.

forbidden fruit, hm?

Aaron.

you’re my forbidden fruit for sure

Roman.

wish I could have been there to help

Aaron.

you did enough helping trust me

Roman.

are we terrible people lol

Aaron.

I know

we are

im trying though

so that’s gotta count for something

Roman.

I hope it does, for both our sakes lol

Aaron.

if this doesn’t work out we can always be together in hell

Roman.

that sounds like a rightful ending

at least I’ll be tan.

Aaron.

we’ll both be hot and tan chilling in hell together

and we can fuck all we want

Roman.

sounds like the next big Netflix series.

Aaron.

could you imagine a Netflix series about us

Roman.

no, I’m scared to lol it would be more insane than Tiger King

Aaron.

you think our lives are more insane than Tiger King?!?

Roman.

scary, right??

Aaron.

thats definitely...quite the comparison

Roman.

I would have loved to have seen your face watching it for the first time

Aaron.

watching that together would have been so fun

I can picture us watching that and freaking out together

Roman.

maybe one night we’ll trip acid and watch it again

Aaron.

confession I’ve never tripped before

Roman.

whaaaaaa

do it with me!

Aaron.

I mean yeah I used to do a lot of coke when I got drunk and sometimes still do but that been the extent of my drug use

hahaha I will trip with you, Roman Beckett

Roman.

aces! Just tell me when and where, and it’s a plan!

Aaron.

”aces”

but yeah let’s do it this weekend

Roman.

I’m British you knob. Shut up lol

Aaron.

I know MATE I was making fun of you

Roman.

sends long audio clip making fun of Aaron’s New York accent

Aaron

brooooo

I do say that though

Roman.

I know, I’ve listened to you talk enough

it’s cute though

ready for bed?

Aaron.

just about

I was gonna go to bed a while ago but wanted to keep texting you

Roman.

same.

tuck me in lol

Aaron.

do u want me to tell you a bedtime story

Roman.

yes, but make it snappy

and I want warm milk

Aaron.

damn

so bossy

but okay

Roman.

you know I’m spoiled.

Aaron.

that must’ve been my fault

okay Des like this one:

By the African river, know as the Nile The sun fell away and it rested a while The rhinos had braved all the smoldering heat They lay down to sleep as they wiped off their feet The elephants marched to their elephant beds And gently they rested their elephant heads Slowly the hippos sank into the river The water so cold that it gave them a shiver (Hippos can't swim, like the pelicans think They also can't float, they could easily sink) The hippos went bathing in cool, shallow pools Thinking the rhinos and elephants fools Underwater, they fell to the soft river bed On darkish green plants with a smidgen of red They strolled on the bottom, then bounced up for air They did it for hours, without any care The fish followed closely, and wove in an out Under their belly, and up to their snout Each of the hippos came up to the shore To feed on the grass by the river once more They dried off their bodies by shaking and stomping And took bites of grass, chewing and chomping With night fading fast, they were full from the feast The sun returned back, rising up form the east The hippos crept off to collapse for the day While rhinos and elephants got up to play Enjoying the warmth of the sun and its light Never knowing the story of hippos at night

just read it in my New York accent you’re so good at

goodnight Lois

Roman.

that was perfect. Goodnight Clark.

#discord #roman #text

[cannoli-reader]

Dividing Robert Jordan’s “A Memory of Light”

A couple of times in recent months, the topic of Sanderson’s changes to the series has come up, and given me cause to think over his mistakes in how he divided the finale. Jordan clearly intended the story he laid out to be a single story, in one book, so I was dividing it, I’d do it into three volumes, intended to run together, without prologues and conclusions and the wind rising at the beginning of each. 

But if f the finale had to be in three separate books, it should have been, in my opinion, as follows (beyond the cut):

Book 12: The Breaking Storm 

(because “Gathering” is so trite and not really fitting this late)

Rand’s arc climaxes with the Dominion Bond incident, more use of the warder bonds to leave all three women horrified, Min traumatized by the incident, Aviendha fuming impotently at her separation from them and the Wise Ones’ harassment, Elayne dealing with a negative feedback loop of political fallout, as she tries to deal with Andor & Cairhien together, with a vague awareness of Rand’s deteriorating state shading everything for the worse.  Andoran problems should prevent her from giving Cairhien the attention it needs, Cairhienin issues drag her attention away from Andor just in time for more trouble to rear up, while she scrambles to find food for both countries. 

Mat should be having issues with managing the larger, reunited Band, maybe with some PTSD as alluded to at the end of KoD, when he says he no longer sees battles as gambling. He should struggle with a lot of setbacks and problems as he and Elayne try to get the cannon project going. His presence with the Band should cause her political difficulties, and his departure at the least convenient time for her. Maybe taking out the gholam at greater personal cost, and he’s freaked out, and can’t go after Moiraine yet. 

Perrin should have the Whitecloak conflict and reveal of Morgase, right away, get it over with, and then the Slayer thing comes up, and the Trolloc threat. His position at the end of the book should be impotence with the problem of the Berelain rumors blossoming among his people, remnants of Maseema’s people attacking and blaming him for the Prophet’s death, Perrin having developed an interest in saving the Children of the Light, but they aren’t about to cooperate and everything is going to get picked off by the Shadow, and Elayne is out for blood over his “rebellion” because so many other political problems have boxed her in and she can’t let another thing like this go.  There is just enough communication between his camp & Caemlyn to raise the stakes, not enough to be the basis for understanding.

Egwene’s story should see the Tower deteriorate more, with more splits and dissension in both the rebel camp and Tar Valon. Romanda and Lelaine’s conflict should come to a head, driving the older sisters back to the Tower, even while disgust at Elaida sends some loyalists out to the rebels.  More people should be listening to Egwene, only to find all their efforts uselessly stirring the pot, and the Seanchan attack destroys what unity is left.

The 13x13 plot should be out there and threatening Logain’s loyalists, with more interplay between Pevara’s group and Myrelle’s. Lan’s gathering of an army should be played less humorously and with more of a sense of ‘too little. too late’ and witnessing problems in the Borderlands, like political infighting, with lords the readers, but not the heroes, know are Darkfriends making their move more widespread than just Ituralde’s OTL problem at Maradon. 

Book 13: Towers of Darkness (or Shadow) (or Towers IN\AT Midnight)

The point is, that there should be some sort of sense of disaster and doom with the White Tower, Black Tower and Ghenji.  Maybe there could be scenes of Lan arriving at Malkier so the ruins of the Seven can play a part in the horror atmosphere. Groups and alliances discussed using metaphors of crumbling or toppling towers. That kind of thing.

Rand plunges deeper into Dark Rand, climaxing with his confrontation with Tam and beginning his sojourn among the Seanchan.

Egwene should be raised in the aftermath of a Seanchan attack that hits both the Tower and the rebels, maybe the groups coming together as they flee a literally burning White Tower.  It should be made abundantly clear that she’s only a compromise candidate, that all the sides are still fighting over who did what in the split. All they can agree on is that Elaida was bad and they have to work together, but blame each other for leaving so Elaida ran wild, or staying & supporting her administration and both sides expect the other to do more compromising, and this is just a shitty thankless job she has to shoulder.  The physical reclaiming of the Tower and cleanup efforts should be a recurring background issue, with emphasis on the destruction and now-crummy living conditions, but Egwene is making them stay in the battered shell of the Tower, rather than split up in the city, which would invite dissent. She’s trying to present a strong face to the rest of the world, but running into problems with the nations, both because of the Tower’s long neglect of the rest of the world for their own squabbles and because the Tower’s old habits of supremacy stumble against new bases of loyalty centered on Rand or other institutions.  Egwene can make things worse for Elayne and vice versa.

Rand and Egwene’s encounter should be in this book, when he’s still Dark Rand. His Merrilor notice should be more of an ultimatum, with Egwene’s efforts to gather the rulers and armies to have the sense of a last-ditch effort to confront him when he needs to be stood up to, and to try to salvage something if Rand goes full evil or insane. That way it seems less like a wrong-headed mistrust of her old friend. She also is fighting Mesaana and the Black Ajah, with more of an ongoing guerilla thing, rather than one big battle in one night. 

Perrin should be having all the Slayer conflicts in this one has he tries to bring all his people back together to fight the Shadow threats and hold off a war with Andor or the Children of the Light.

Mat should be stalling on the Moiraine thing out of accumulated trauma from the gholam and recent campaigns, belated loss of self-confidence from being Tylin’s Toy. He goes to Tuon, and even that turns bad when he realizes how things are with Rand and that his wife is getting ready to go to war with his best friend and maybe hears plans as well to go after Perrin and the Whitecloak “deserters”, maybe he encounters some damane he recognizes from the White Tower or even Elaida herself.  His moment of getting back on track should be deciding to go to Ghenji with Thom & Noal, and the climax should be the adventure there, with him losing his eye, and they get out in a less than awesome state, just sitting there in the Mountains like ‘now what’. 

Elayne’s political difficulties escalate, though she manages to get the crown of Cairhien settled, only for the Trolloc attack on Caemlyn, and Talmanes and Aludra barely escaping while the city burns. 

The Black Tower breaks into open warfare, Ituralde’s situation in the Borderlands deteriorates, there is a schism among the Aiel, maybe the siswai’aman start getting a little more Maseema-like in their beliefs, turning against the Wise Ones and clan chiefs for lying about Rhuidean all this time.  Aviendha plays a role in that, decides she’s a Wise One, goes to Rhuidean, has the bad future visions, where the current Aiel conflict is shown to come to fruition in the successive generation, and the world is a harsher, most nasty place in the wake of Rand’s victory, because he did it wrong. The alliance that won Tarmon Gaidon is falling out and the Aiel are taking sides with or preying on different wetlander factions, before the Seanchan crusade becomes their new unifying element. There should be a sense that the Raven Empire is doing what the original conquerors did in Seanchan, unifying a broken and conflict-ridden land and the Aiel are only exacerbating the conflict. 

Everything sucks, but a few people are still determined to keep trying. Lan, Perrin, Egwene, Nynaeve, Elayne, Tuon, Logain.  Mat, Moiraine & Thom have a technical win under their belt. That’s as good as it gets.

Book 14: A Memory of Light

Rand’s vision is failing as he spends more time wandering among the Seanchan and Tinkers with more of a “I’m done with all your bullshit” tupe of mindset.  He hears about problems going on in the rest of the world, sees collared Aes Sedai and even recognizably Aiel captives, and can’t care less, he’s going here and there weaving preparations for something big that’s going to kill everyone in the area in one dramatic burst of the Power when he triggers it with the Choedan Kal, and he’s doing the same thing in Bandar Eban, around Far Madding and the Borderlanders, in Tarabon and maybe even the Black Tower. But eventually something cracks and we get Dragonmount. 

Perrin finally makes some headway in getting people together, winning back trust, and he’s on the verge of rescuing the Whitecloaks, when he forges the new hammer, which is closely tied in with Rand on Dragonmount, even inspired by his witnessing of it. 

Mat and Moiraine’s recovery is likewise tied to Rand’s epiphany. Maybe Rand comes looking for them thanks to ta’veren vision, and helps them get over their ‘Finn trauma. A symbolic first act of Healing. He goes with Mat to make amends with Tuon, reunites with Tam, goes to the rescue of the Borderlands & Lan.

Perrin & Galad come to the rescue in Andor, Elayne is dealing with the mess of Caemlyn, and small armies start showing up, the results of her campaigning as seen in CoT, and a massive relief force comes from Cairhien, with commoners and craftsmen saying “You fed us, now we’ll feed you”. Food comes up the rivers in Zaida’s ships.  Elayne brings the Borderlanders from Far Madding to help contain the Trollocs.  She ends up as the focal point of a large cooperative effort, with the Kin as the One Power muscle for her group. Needless to say, the turning point of this stuff should be tied into Dragonmount. Elayne’s & Perrin’s peace agreement is based more of cooperation, rather than who is entitled to what. 

Egwene defeats Mesaana, thanks to Perrin bringing the dreamspike on his way to Dragonmount to back up Rand, and now people are cooperating more afterwards.  Likewise with Logain’s victory at the Black Tower, which more of a group effort with Logain as the public face, and not the Androl’s Big Adventure we actually got. Loial should also succeed in persuading the Stump after Dragonmount.

And then, just when things are looking up, the attacks begin. The scheduled meeting at Merrilor is much more of a “quick, let’s get together, there’s no time left” vibe. Moiraine’s return is less dramatic, but she does move Rand & Egwene past a minor sticking point. Rand meets the Borderland rulers for their little test thing.  Elayne’s ascension as supreme commander is more of an organic thing, because of the connections she’s forged among so many groups, that she’s the only major leader known to the Borderlanders, the Aiel, and the Sea Folk, is related by marriage to the King of Tear, rules Andor and Cairhien, who are now buddies from fighting together, and the fact that she’s been fighting this whole time.  That way the political storylines mean something, rather than Rand just appointing her because his old Aes Sedai friend said so, and the rulers are all standing around wondering what these people are talking about but going along because the protagonists said so. 

#a memory of light #towers of midnight #brandon sanderson #the gathering storm

[wellntruly]

The Exorcist - Re. 1.01-1.05

Yes, yes of course, I have been, I am: I am rewatching The Exorcist.

And I don’t know what to call what I have here this time. More like meta? Meta meets notes?

I wrote some stuff down, I ended up with this:

Bennett

Devon Bennett introduced himself as such to Angela Rance, and if finally clocking that his first name is Devon was not enough, it’s his first name. I thought Bennett was his first name. It’s Father Marcus and Father Tomas, not Father Keane and Father Ortega. But no, Father Bennett, thank you, please pretend you do not know my Christian name.

Because that’s what they all call him! “Father Bennett speaks admiringly of you,” Mother Bernadette says to Marcus, “what’s the phrase he used? A pain in my ass.” (Lol, fuck.) And then “How do you know Bennett?” Lester asks, to which Marcus offers “He excommunicated me,” and again, Lol, but also, hey, better question: how do YOU two know Bennett? Truly, come to think of it: what? Strict, by-the-book, thornily formal Father Bennett, who has a whole network of renegades in Chicago like, just in case???

But maybe come to think of it, this actually starts to elucidate a lot of his and Marcus’s relationship, where they openly hate each other but also I think they’re each other’s closest friend? (pre Tomas) Because ah, of course: they are the two most fucking intense people in the Church, in their very different but ultimately compatible ways. Because out of everyone Marcus knows, Bennett is the only one to whom he could come and say “hey do you wanna try to take down the Vatican?” and he would respond like “I’ve already run through five possible scenarios and four of them have ended in our death and dismemberment---the fifth one might work.” And because out of everyone Bennett knows, Marcus is the only one insane enough to ask him that.

Anyway, their antagonistic teamwork brings light to my life, and I very much like to imagine Bennett’s face when the next time he sees the promising young priest who stood up so feelingly and eloquently for his parish, he’s walking in with Marcus Keane hell-bent on doing exorcism, pun intended. Father Bennett, glaring over his glasses: Goddamn you. Father Marcus: :)

Kat

I had some big rewatch lols at lesbian sleeper agent Kat in the pilot. Her “Hard pass” to Casey’s pitch that there will be boys at her match was a highlight, but I most lost it this time at her gay ass army-crawling across her bed towards a priest while holding direct eye contact. Tactical intimidation maneuver +1 -- Kat Rance

My favorite Kat bit though was the interplay between her and Marcus in episode five. His respect toward her in the kitchen, respect to her FOR challenging him, out of her drive to protect her sister. And later that night when Marcus is being handcuffed by the cops Kat called, she looks directly into his eyes when they find themselves right next to each other in the tumult. She doesn’t try to hide, and she also doesn’t hide from her face that she’s still uncertain about what she did. She gives him the openness of her look, that honesty like her offering a form of respect back to him. And Marcus just holds her eyes for this beat they share, and shakes his head regretfully, but without any anger toward her. He understands. I really liked this moment, big ups to Brianne Howey and Ben Daniels’s nuanced work in this episode.

Marcus

The early-series vibe is so much just:

Marcus: [Aragorns in through the door to Tomas’s church, crosses himself somewhere between a reflex and an afterthought, and sprawls into a pew munching on a cob of street corn] Tomas, turning back to Henry: So this stray cat priest is gonna help us

I tell ya, Sweet Parish Priest and the Ramblin’ Flirty Exorcist blowing through his life really was a great arrangement they had going in the first season.

Though honestly, maybe the best part of the first few episodes is that we get multiple scenes of Marcus wearing his waistcoat-style collar but no jacket, the effect like whatever period of menswear when they’d wear those garters at the elbows of their shirts. And maybe the worst part of the first few episodes, is that this is the only time we will get this look. Every day I’m more upset that the Church took Marcus’s collar from him. How DARE you. You give that BACK. I am consoled only by how I find I consider his brimmed hat as much a part of his personal vestments as any of it, and at least he’s still got that.

But what’s really important, what matters, is that when Marcus gets excommunicated after forty-one years, he throws himself a pity party that lasted all of….an afternoon. He turns around slumped in a church to see Jesus in the stained glass, mutters “Aw shut up,” and grimly goes off to keep trying to help this family, collar or no. God is in the hands, as he’s about to learn anew. I’m super into this structuring of the first half of this season by the way: they bring our priests together, they give them some growing pains & confessions, they deliver a rocking blow to Marcus, and then they take a whole episode to send him on a little Hero’s Journey through the garden of the nuns and the trailer of the moveable feast, before bringing him back to Tomas to begin together the Exorcism of Casey Rance.

And yeah, Marcus kicks Tomas out pretty harshly after he stumbles to his knees in front of a demon, and we do mean that in the sexual way, but this is the same Marcus who had earlier looked at this demon turning its vicious attention on Tomas and was like, naw, was like *yank*, was like, I will hold your head and forgive you Right To Your Face, focus on me devil not on him. I think he was partly grateful for an excuse to banish Tomas from this house. As he said himself, Tomas is a ghost he doesn’t want in his head (no matter that you’re already in his, and that scares you too). When they met Marcus looked at Tomas standing on a literal threshold and said, “They’re gonna love you,” and he was so sad. Now, he is furious. Go, Tomas. You’re a liability. I’ll not be responsible for you. (Ohhh the arc-ache for me at that!)

Tomas

Tomas, earnest: God wants us to be together Marcus: god I hope not. God? God I hope not. r u listening.

And haha oh Marcus that is UNDERSTANDABLE, because Tomas Ortega begins this show just steeped in his precious dorky nonsense. He is all eyelashes and bravery and need and no clue, and it is intolerable! Father Tomas probably puts his personal cell phone number on his congregation newsletters. Father Tomas’s T-shirts are all so smedium because he hasn’t bought any since college. Father Tomas is always ducking his head, trying to be small and humble in front of Bishops and Marcuses. Father Tomas absolutely mouths a startled “Fuck--” when that ladder to the Rance’s attic falls down right in front of him.

Father Tomas is startled a lot, in fact. It is scary times for Tomas. My personal favorite (though definitely challenged by all the times he’s dropped like a deer in the headlights into another frightening dream with the British exorcist in his shirtsleeves) is when Casey finally goes full demon-voiced at Marcus in his office, and Father Tomas takes a startled step backward and falls over a chair. But he comes back up holding the camcorder! That’s my boy! He’s trying! This will turn out to be the Tomas Ortega way: a hot mess, but man he always comes through with some weird win when you need him.

Twice I just wrote “Tomas, you are baby.” Once I wrote “literal Sweaterboy and the Absolute Nightmare.” “I’M DYING” -- the scene where Tomas spent half his time smiling at the rich white lady and the other half rapidly whispering instructions to Luis in Spanish.

And like, if you’re gonna have Tomas break his vows, absolutely do it this way, where the camera spends just as much if not more love on distraught, suffering, falling to his knees on the stones of his empty church Tomas, praying to God to forgive his grievous fault, as we do on sad hot rain-soaked Tomas giving in. This show’s cocktail for him is like one part fall, two parts guilt, and it goes down smooth.

Miscellany

- Over the first two episodes you can listen to Marcus’s accent gradually soften its hold on ‘Thomas’ to bend into the Midlands version of ‘Tomas’ he’ll carry through the rest of the series

- My mom watches so much TV all bundled up in blankets after her brain injury, exactly as they show Henry doing

- It is clearly shown to be broad daylight when this scene takes place, you two really hung scarves over the windows and lit a bunch of candles around Tomas’s Windows 2000 desktop computer, because you just require ambiance??? I’m weeping, I love the exorcists

- After his entire life was turned upside down, Marcus got drunk, and then went back to Tomas’s church like a particularly sad and dusty homing dove. Tomas, meanwhile, looked for him all day and only last checked his own pews. You two are perfect.

Tomas, so sympathetically: “What they did to you today, it was—I cannot think what you must be feeling right now.” Marcus: “Right now it’s a very pleasant spinning sensation.”

- I am still exquisitely obsessed with the exorcism nuns of radical compassion and the dark neon-lit greenhouse where they love the demons away. ObsESSED. “Outcast, fallen angel, you are loved” ---I cry!

- Honestly what compelled Tomas to be like, I could put this collar on myself, OR

- My favorite genre is quiet exorcism coffee break in some sort of hall or alley. I feel immensely, about this

- The amount of quatrefoils in the Rance house...is so accurate to what Angela’s design sensibility would be. Another element of that set I really like is that they genuinely piled up Casey’s entire bedroom in the hallway and made all the actors work around the stacks. ACCURACY, again!

Angela: “Would you care for a cup of tea?” Marcus, who looks like three different demons have thrown up on his shirt, with sincere grateful charm: “Ah that would be a blessing.”

- And finally:

Tomas, who will every season see the demons as Marcus: “But the way it takes love---it finds it, you can feel it sniffing for it---and twists it..”

Boy? I die.

--- --- ---

The Exorcist The Show

Season One Part 1, Part 2 Season Two Eps 1 & 2, 3 & 4, 5 & 6, 7 & 8, 9 & 10

#repeating this show like a Rosary IT'S FINE #The Exorcist The Show #The Exorcist #Tarra takes notes

[sam-writes]

Unexpected, Not Unwanted.

Cherry Smoke series

Roger Taylor X Original Male Character

Word count: 1841

Links:

Part 1 / Part 2

Aesthetic Moodboards

Note: heyyy so here's a part 2 to Cherry Smoke! I hope you enjoy!

I'm slowly becoming worse and worse at naming things. Forgive me.

Also!! BIG THANK YOU FOR 1300 FOLLOWERS!!! That's such an insane number!! Thank you all!! Please feel free to drop by my inbox and chat! I love chatting!

_________________________________

It's a couple weeks since they last saw each other, and this encounter was completely accidental.

Both Queen and Cherry Smoke had been invited to a party held by some famous person who just wanted them there to brag about it. Both bands weren't the type to turn down free drinks and a party, so they went along.

Nicholas hadn't even been at the party for longer than five minutes and he had already downed two shots and had a half-finished beer in hand. He was aimlessly walking around the big open space of someone's huge house. It obviously cost a lot and he felt quite small being in such an expensive place. He was stopped a few times by people who considered themselves fans of his band, but he didn't think of his band as big enough to have fans. It was a shock to the system that so many people had recognised him. Once or twice someone would mention the news article of Roger Taylor and himself. Whenever it was brought up he would deflect any questions, not wanting to make the whole situation worse. For the both of them. So he took his drink and stayed away from anyone who wanted to talk about the paper and Roger. He wanted to forget Roger.

Nicholas had been heavily distracted since the run in with Queen. His mind kept ticking over the fight and the drinking the next day. The rage he felt when his band had been dissed. How taken aback he was when Roger had definitely checked him out, maybe he was just imagining it, wishful thinking and all that. How his fist burned with pain after he punched Roger. He kept thinking of the way Roger had smiled at him while they drank together the next day. The drunken smug smile that made his eyes squint and the laugh that came deep from his chest when Nick rambled off a joke. His feelings were very confusing and he didn't want to put effort into figuring it out. One side of him wanted to never see Roger again. The other side wanted to make things better because he looked up to him, though he'd never admit it to Roger. He didn't need that going to his head.

It was like Roger was two different people. When he was around his band he was the protector. Needing to keep up their already high reputation. But when he was alone, with Nicholas, he was completely different. More free? But maybe that was just the alcohol. He wanted to blame it on the alcohol.

Nicholas watched as his bandmates talked with other party guests. Michael had struck up a conversation with someone who was currently miming playing a piano, so they'd both be fine for an hour or two. Pianists always seemed to be able to talk about their skills for long periods of time without break.

Miranda was leaning against a wall talking animatedly to a cute girl, who was paying close attention to everything she said.

Damien was unsurprisingly surrounded by a crowd of girls. Nick rolled his eyes but couldn't help but breathe out a laugh, "Of course." How typical of him.

Eric caught Nicholas' gaze from across the room, he was a wallflower when it came to parties. He never really wanted to stand out and he did whatever it took to avoid conversation. Nick gave him a sad smile as he noticed a nice looking guy walk up to Eric. He shot him a thumbs up with a half hearted smile and looked away before Eric called for his help. As much as he loved and admired Eric, he wasn't in the mood to go rescue him.

Nicholas was stuck in his own thoughts when he felt a hand land on his shoulder making him jump and he looked up quickly.

"Nick. As your frontwoman I command you to get out of this funk you've been in and go mingle." Miranda tried to shove him but he only took half a step back.

He noticed a phone number scrawled sloppily onto her arm, but didn't bring it up. "I'd rather not."

"Well, stop looking sad at least. Here," she handed him a sealed can of something she had been holding, "I was going to drink it but it looks like you need it. Enjoy!" And she was gone. He stared at the drink, knowing he had already maybe had a bit too much as he had lost count.

Nicholas contemplated opening the can for exactly half a second before finishing off the dregs of his beer and cracking open the can with a satisfying hiss and pop. It was alcohol and it was strong, but maybe that is what he needed.

He had been involved in multiple halfhearted conversations with strangers and people who had sworn to have met him before - he didn't remember them, but maybe that was just the booze.

He was currently letting a sweet girl ramble while he stared into the crowd, hoping to see someone he knew to get away. That's when the long bleached blond hair caught his eye. It seemed familiar and he just couldn't put his finger on who it was. He excused himself and decided to follow before he lost it into the crowds.

Time seemed to slow as he navigated the masses. Ducking past other guests, he was always just too far away to call out to the blond, who never looked back. He would lose sight of him for a moment before seeing him reappear a few metres away. The house hadn't felt bigger than when he was chasing the blond. It seemed to continue on forever, but maybe his drunken state wasn't helping. Finally the blond came to a halt outside on a patio, leant against the railing and lit a cigarette. It was very dark outside, but there were orange fairy lights strung from tree to tree which slightly illuminated the surrounding area. Nicholas wondered when it had gotten so dark.

Nicholas was entranced. The long hair pushed back behind one of his ears and the smoke gently rising, twisting and curling in the air. The still burning lighter left a pale orange glow on his face and twinkling in his eyes as he watched the flame dance in the breeze. There was faint bruising on the bridge of his nose and it brought great satisfaction to Nicholas to know that it hadn't completely gone away yet.

Roger Taylor was a sight. Even Nick had to admit that as he stood, almost starstruck, in the doorway. He was agape and his eyes roamed and traced the faint red marks on his collar bone and neck. He felt something roil inside him, he couldn't put words to what that feeling was, but it burnt white hot.

Sadly the whole moment was ruined when he looked over at Nicholas and groaned. "God damn it. You again?"

Nick almost turned and left but couldn't make himself move anywhere but forwards. It's like his feet knew his destiny, even if mentally he wasn't ready to confront it.

"I'm not happy to see you either, Taylor." Which could be a lie but at this point Nick wasn't sure. Those marks on Rogers neck had imprinted themselves in his mind. What if he could make marks like that on Roger. He shook his head, immediately stopping that train of thought.

There was a long pause filled with an extremely tense silence before it was for broken by Roger offering Nick a cigarette, who accepted it.

He put the cigarette between his teeth and leant in close as Roger lit it for him. He looked at the man, realising now that Roger was slightly smaller than him. He almost laughed.

Roger continued looking out into the large yard and Nicholas had his back against the railing and looked back into the building.

People mingled and it seemed that no one noticed that they weren't in there. It was nice to not be bothered.

"Want to get another drink?" Nick offered, after mentally going through all possible answers to that questions Roger could have given him.

"Why the hell not. Free drinks, after all."

Roger and Nicholas weaved through the crowds and successfully acquired two beers each before heading back outside and sitting on the deck chairs.

They drank and talked again. Roger was retelling an anecdote from his tours and Nicholas was staring at him with great interest. His gaze dropped to his lips. He watched as he spoke, how his lips moved and curled around every word.

Roger must have noticed because his speech slowed and he looked at Nick, raising an eyebrow with a smug look on his face.

The lips on his caught Nicholas off guard. That's not to say he didn't kiss back, but he was startled by the sudden closeness of Roger. His mind was a mantra of "it's just the alcohol, it's just the alcohol..." As he tried to blame yet another thing on drinking. Maybe he was just imagining this? God, what would Miranda say of she knew...

Roger was pulling away quickly. "Sorry. It's just... I... I'm sorry." He was going red and looked away, avoiding Nicholas' eyes, which were desperately trying to catch his gaze.

In a very soft voice, still trying to believe that that had just happened, Nicholas spoke, "Don't be sorry..." And Roger's eyes snapped back to Nicholas'.

Taking his chance, Nicholas initiated the next kiss. He moved slowly, making sure Roger had enough time to pull away if he wanted, he even paused before he made contact. Quickly Roger's hand was in his hair and Nick was pulling him closer. His touch was like cold static on his scalp. His fingers pulling on his curls was driving him mad. Breaking apart for air was almost painful. Nicholas didn't know how badly he had been wanting this. He knew he had wanted it but not to this degree. He wouldn't let himself admit it. But here he was. Here they were. Together.

It was all so sudden, so fast. Soon they were finding a spare room somewhere upstairs. He hoped no one had caught on to what was happening as they locked the door.

Nick had Roger against the door as soon as he could. He kissed him quickly, intensely, before he began to work his way down to his collar bone and claim him for himself. Fresh hickies contrasted with the more faded ones. Roger almost whimpered at his touch.

Nicholas knew what he wanted, and he wanted Roger Taylor. It was just by luck that Roger Taylor wanted him as well.

________________________________

Reblogs are appreciated

Permatag: @siriuslymooned @siriuslymooned @benhardysvoicee @onceuponadetectivedemigod @hotspacedeacon @fastidious-and-a-mess @moonvinyls @horribly-unstable @andtheytoldustotellyouhello @writingsthegame-dylansthename @rogerandhishair @ironqueen98 @rogerinatrash @rogerlad

@queens-n-roses

Cherry Smoke Taglist: @itsanarrum

Feel free to ask to be tagged in anything or changed to a different taglist

#sam writes #leon writes #cherry smoke #roger taylor #nicholas hayes #roger taylor x original male character #fanfiction #queen #borhap #bohemian rhapsody

[cherrydae]

Clandestine | 5

Series: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9

Genre: Assassin!Baekhyun

Word count: 4.9k

Warning: violence

Summary: One drunken night leads to your life getting entangled with a network of assassins. You became their target, and Byun Baekhyun the shooter.

______________

As you two drove back to Baekhyun’s place, the only thing that kept you occupied was him. You managed to calm down the heat that was constantly creeping up your cheeks, but you felt like your mind was one huge fuzz. It can’t be that you’re starting to like him. He was an overconfident, cocky, and blunt moron.

Yet that same man would light up at the sight of smoothies, and would hold you gently as he explained self-defense, and would shamelessly compliment you whenever he had the chance to part those plump lips of his.

“Y/N? We’re here.” Baekhyun said as he reached out to lightly touch your arm, causing you to flinch slightly. “Oh, sorry. I’ll get out.” You could smack yourself right now. What happened in that gym meant nothing. You had to snap out of this. And so, you tried to push every thought related to him out of your head as you both entered his house.

Your eyes roamed around the living room, and you couldn’t help it but let out a chuckle. “Your house looks a lot nicer when it isn’t packed with drunk students.” You mentioned as you moved to sit down on the couch.

“Why, thank you.” He replied as he disappeared into the kitchen. You took a deep breath as you took out your laptop from your bag, placing it on your lap and switching it on. Baekhyun then came back into the room, holding two glasses and a bottle of wine. “I hope you like red wine? If not, then I have juice or something warm?”

His words caused you to break out in a smile. “Don’t worry, I’ll have a glass. Now, sit. We have to get started on this project.” And he complied, sitting down right next to you as he grabbed his own laptop from the table.

You were awfully aware of how close he was sitting to you, your knees barely brushing. You were also very much focused on every movement of his. From his lips parting to speak to you, to his slender fingers wrapping around the glass and bringing it up to his lips.

This was going to drive you insane if it continued on like this. Yet you quickly shook your head to get back to your senses.

“Okay, so, normally you’ll need a cotton swab and swab the inside of your cheek. From that they can extract your DNA. There are tons of other bodily fluids from which DNA can be extracted, so how about we start picking something other than that?” You opened up a blank document on your laptop, already typing the project’s guidelines.

“I know! Isn’t sem-” But you quickly cut him off before he could finish his sentence. “No! Not that.” Your reaction elicited a laugh from Baekhyun as he fell back against the cushions, shaking his head and taking another sip from the wine.

“I was just kidding. Blood seems suitable? Or maybe used objects like a toothbrush or a hairbrush?” You wrote down his suggestions, feeling your lips curl in a small smile. “We’d need to figure out what kind of program works the best for either, though.” He added, to which you nodded.

You felt more at ease, rather than constantly feeling tensed due to his movements. Both of you realised that this was a serious project that needed to be finished within a few weeks, so you didn’t have the time to worry about why his gaze made you feel warm, or why a light touch of his caused warmth to rush to your cheeks.

________________

Minseok was sitting in his chair, eyes staring intently at his computer screen, as his fingers tapped against the wooden desk of his. Yet at that moment, he heard a knock on his door, and Jongdae walked in.

“You called for me?” He said, as he moved to sit down in one of the armchairs, feet moving to rest on the coffee table in front of it.

“Get your feet off my table. And yes, I need you for a job. Sort of.” Minseok turned away from his computer as he turned to look at Jongdae, fingers pulling the glasses from his nose and placing it down.

Jongdae simply nodded, motioning for Minseok to continue. Yet he kept his feet on his table. He knew that Minseok wouldn’t make another remark about it, because that could spark a heated debate which Jongdae would obviously win.

“You rascals really tend to forget that I’m your superior. Byun and you need some manners.” He muttered with a sigh, shaking his head before standing up and walking towards Jongdae. “Anyways, I need you on standby for a job.”

“I sent Byun on a job, and it’s been almost three weeks. I’ve gotten barely any information back, whilst he did give me his word he’d constantly inform me. I keep on getting information every now and then, and he’s losing my trust in this job.” Minseok heaved a sigh as he leaned against his desk, looking at Jongdae in front of him.

“Right. What for information is he supposed to get?” Jongdae asked, head tilting slightly to the side as his fingers were busying themselves with Minseok’s porcelain cups.

“Someone hacked into our system. We don’t know how much she has seen, but it could be very threatening to us. I sent Baekhyun to find out how much she knows, so that we can decide if she’s worth the kill or not. I’d rather not have blood on my hands that didn’t earn me a penny.” He said with a shrug.

“And what’s my role in this?  Seemingly he’s still busy with getting that information?” Jongdae’s eyebrows furrowed as he sat up slightly, feet coming off the table.

“I need you on standby. If I don’t hear anything from Baekhyun in the coming three days, then I’m sending you to finish this job cleanly. I’m tired of waiting.” Minseok then moved to sit back in his chair, hands folding over each other as he looked at the male.

“There’s a chance Baekhyun is still with her. For all we know, he might have fallen for her. I know that him and I are one of your best assassins, but I don’t quite feel like fighting with him. I might kick his ass too hard.” Jongdae’s lips tugged into a triumphant grin, to which he heard Minseok sigh.

“Why are my best assassins overconfident jerks.” His remark caused Jongdae to step closer to the desk, giving him a wink. “Because we bring in the most money. We can be.” Minseok reached out to grab Jongdae by the collar, but the male leaned back before he could.

“Anyways, sure. I’ll do it. Text me her address and I’ll make sure she remains quiet. For good.” Jongdae gave the male a wave as he headed out of the office, leaving Minseok there with his head between his hands.

__________

It’s been three days since you’ve started to work on your project. Your mind was everywhere, and you didn’t know what it was, but Baekhyun was constantly on your mind. Whenever he popped up, you tried to push the thought of him back in your head but he managed to find a way to creep back.

You needed to talk to Yejin about this, because you didn’t know what was going on and you needed to rationalise your thoughts. Which is why you were currently at Yejin’s door, knocking heavily on her door.

“Y/N, I know it’s you! Calm down with the knocking, I’m coming!” Yejin yelled through the door before swinging it open. “I need to talk to you, Yejin!” You exclaimed as you walked into her house, making a beeline for her couch.

“What’s the matter? What do you need?” She replied as she moved to sit down next to you. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I keep thinking about him! And I don’t think I like him, do I? I don’t know anymore.”

“Woah, hold on. Is this about Baekhyun?” Yejin raised an eyebrow at you, and you widened your eyes. “How did you—”

“Y/N. Who else do you hang out a lot with? So, you’re stressing out because you think you like him?” She asked, and you lifted both your shoulders up in a shrug.

“It’s just— We’ve basically been hanging around for three weeks now. And he’s still cocky and flirty, but I’ve seen more of him? He’s actually quite funny and cute even. A few days ago, I’ve seen him all sweaty and he was boxing— And he ended up on top off me, and I swear we almost kissed.” You spoke, hands moving along as you did.

“He looked so attractive. And I don’t know but he just pops up in my mind out of the blue. But I can’t like him already, can I? I don’t think it’s a good idea. I know him for three weeks—” Yejin then shook her head, reaching out to grab your hand.

“Hey, it’s been three weeks and you’ve seen him almost every day. I mean, he seems like a good guy. I think you’re genuinely starting to fall for him, but don’t worry about it. Plus, he is in fact very hot.” She sent you a wink before she continued. “Do you think he feels something for you?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s quite hard to distinguish his flirting as legit or just him flirting for the sake of it.” Yejin let out a hum, seemingly thinking about it. “I don’t know either, to be fair. You’ll feel it yourself, though. If he genuinely feels something for you, you’d get a vibe.”

Her words made you nod. “I’m supposed to meet him at my place in half an hour. So I’ll go home. Thank you, Yejin. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” You reached over to pull her in a tight embrace, and she let out a laugh. “You’d probably be dead without me. Now go, get ready.” She pulled back and pushed you off the couch, causing you to let out a laugh.

“Shut up. I’m leaving!” You rolled your eyes at her and got up, before giving her a wave and walking out of the room and heading out to your car.

_________

Once you were home, you took a deep breath as you headed up the stairs and inside your room. As you stood in front of the mirror, you took a few minutes to debate whether you’d wish to change or not. Your attire was quite nice, so after some heavy debating you decided to simply re-apply some lipstick and let your hair fall loosely over your shoulders rather than having it in an updo.

You also took out your phone, ordering two pizza’s as you made your way down the stairs again. It was still early in the evening, and you haven’t had dinner yet so you thought you could order for both him and yourself.

Not too long afterwards, you heard your doorbell ring, raising an eyebrow as you glanced at the clock. The delivery service isn’t this fast normally. When you went to open the door, you were met with Baekhyun standing there, a small grin present on his lips. “You seemed to expect someone else. Am I early?” He asked, head tilting to the side.

You quickly shook your head before stepping aside, making space for him to enter. “Oh— I just ordered pizza, and I didn’t expect you to come. Please do come in.” You murmured, shutting the door after him once he was inside.

“Did you read my mind or something? I was just thinking about how badly I craved some pizza. You’re amazing.” He flashed you another smile as he made himself comfortable on your couch with you trailing after him, cheeks flushing a light pink due to his remark.

“It’s nothing, really. Did you bring the books I asked for?” You sat down on the other end of the couch, already reaching out to turn your laptop on.

“Woah, not even asking about how my day was or anything. Do you want me gone that fast?” An eyebrow of his rose, and you simply rolled your eyes. “Oh shut up. I’ll probably get the usual routine that you or worked out, or did nothing all day but lay on your couch.”

Baekhyun let out a laugh before zipping his bag open. “You got me there. I promise, my life isn’t as uninteresting as it seems.” He took out three books, placing them between the two of you, as he reached back in his bag to take out his laptop and a bottle of champagne. “I also promise that I’m not an alcoholic. But I had this in my cupboard, and thought we could share it?”

The sheepish expression that appeared on his facemade your heart swell. “It’s okay. We’ll have it with the pizza.” And right at that moment, your doorbell rang again. “Speak of the devil.”

As you went and opened the door, you were met with the delivery guy. He was dressed in all black, and he was holding the two boxes with the pizza’s. He wasn’t unattractive, though. From what you could see. Despite him wearing a cap, he had very remarkable curled lips.

“Thank you for the pizza. You can keep the change.” You said with a smile as you paid him and took the boxes. He thanked you in return, and you then shut the door, walking back to the living room and placing the boxes on the table. You then walked into the kitchen to grab two glasses for the champagne before heading back in the living room, and sitting once again, at the far end of the couch.

“Am I that scary? You’re sitting so far away.” His tone had some playfulness to it, and you couldn’t help it but shake your head as you scooted slightly closer to him. “Satisfied?” And he simply nodded as he grabbed a slice of pizza.

The two of you were eating in silence. But it wasn’t an awkward one. It was a pleasant silence. However, not too long afterwards, Baekhyun broke that silence. “You know, you should show me that special talent of yours. You got me curious since you told me about it.”

You swallowed the bite of pizza before nodding and taking your laptop, placing it on your lap. “Sure, why not? Don’t tell anyone though!” Baekhyun nodded, and moved to sit closer to you, thighs almost pressing against each other. Your eyes widened slightly, turning your head to look at him, and at that moment he looked back at you, giving you a smile.

Blinking, you quickly turned back to your screen. “So, I’ll keep it simple and hack into the uni’s database. It has a lot of private data, so I’ll just hack into the grade registry, since that’s quite protected, but harmless for us to see. I mean, unless you’re gonna go make fun of the people with lower grades.” Baekhyun simply nodded as he watched your screen.

And you then typed away, typing a series of codes as you decrypted the grade registry. Baekhyun just watched your movements, eyes glued on the screen and occasionally glancing at your hands or your focused expression.

A few minutes later, you leaned back and clapped your hands together. “I’m in! I expected heavier encryption, but I guess the uni needs to work on that.” You then turned the screen more towards Baekhyun and he let out a whistle as his eyes roamed over the grades.

“I thought you were bluffing—” He murmured softly before turning to look at you. “That is very impressive. Have you hacked into other places?” You nodded, fingers tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Delivery services, online shops, but only to check their stocks! And—” You hesitated for a moment, wondering if you could trust him enough to tell him this. He hasn’t done anything suspicious to you, hence why you decided to tell him. “Black Lotus.”

You could see a glint in Baekhyun’s eyes. Yet it faded as fast as it came. “What’s Black Lotus?” He asked, and you bit down on your bottom lip before taking in a deep breath. “Don’t tell anyone. Please. It— My life is kind of on the line.” Baekhyun nodded. “They’re seemingly an assassin network.”

Baekhyun raised his eyebrows. “Assassins? How do you know?” You shifted slightly in your seat before speaking up, voice coming out weaker than intended. “One of them attacked me, and told me.”

“That bastard followed me, and tried to kill me in an alley for doing it. But— It was an accident. Thankfully people came on time, or I wouldn’t be here to tell you this.” You could see Baekhyun’s impression morph into a slight scowl, and it caused a frown to etch over your forehead. “What’s the matter?”

“Oh, I just— I can’t believe someone would have the audacity to do that to you.” He then reached out for his glass of champagne, taking a sip before speaking up again. “But since you hacked, you must’ve seen some things?”

You shrugged before reaching out for your own glass as well. “I’d rather not talk about it anymore… I’ll tell you another time, is that okay?” You glanced at Baekhyun, and he nodded, giving you a warm smile. It caused your shoulders to falter slightly from their tense position.

Baekhyun’s eyes then fell on you once again, eyes roaming all over your face as he lifted the glass up to his lips again. “What? Something on my face? Pizza sauce?” You asked, holding the glass in one hand and the other reaching out to touch the corners of your lips. But Baekhyun shook his head.

You could see his teeth dig lightly in his bottom lip as his eyes fell on your lips before he released it and spoke up, voice slightly lower than before. “You’re wearing that shade of lipstick again. It brings your—” He trailed off, his slender fingers reaching out to touch the corner of your eye. “Eyes out.”

His touch made you hold your breath, as you watched his every move. “And your hair isn’t in its usual updo.” He leaned forward, face inches away from yours as his fingers moved to tuck a few strands of hair behind your ear. “You’re beautiful.” You could feel his breath ghost against your ear, and it made your heart hammer against your ribcage.

“I— We should continue with our project!” You panicked and bolted away from his touch, yet you didn’t realise you were still clutching your glass tightly and ended up spilling the champagne over Baekhyun’s shirt.

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry!” You exclaimed, hand clasping over your mouth as you stared at the wet patch on Baekhyun’s shirt. Yet he laughed it off, leaning back and shaking his head. “It’s okay. Don’t worry. I can just wash this shirt.”

You quickly stood up, placing the now empty glass down along with your laptop. “I’ll grab you a towel. I’ll look if I have anything for you to wear instead, and I’ll wash the shirt for you!” Baekhyun nodded, thanking you before you hastily made your way up the stairs again.

Your hand clutched your chest tightly as you tried to calm down your racing heart, letting out a puff of air as you opened the door and walked inside the bathroom.

Though, the second you stepped inside, you felt slightly uneasy. You didn’t know what it was, but you felt watched once again. You walked to the cabinet under the sink, bending down to take out a towel before standing up and turning around.

You were about to let out a piercing scream, but a gloved hand came to cover your lips before you could emit a sound. “One word and expect a knife in your stomach.” You heard the male say and you nodded. He was in all black attire, a mask and cap making only his eyes visible. What struck you was that those weren’t the same eyes as the attacker last month.

He did seem familiar. Then it hit you.

The pizza deliverer.

The male walked you backwards until he had you backed up against the tiles of your bathroom, hand still covering your mouth. His eyes scanned your entire body from top to bottom before he let out a chuckle. “Now I see why it’s taking so long.” His words made you frown.

“Listen up, sweetheart. I can keep it simple. You tell me what you know, and I’ll consider having mercy on your beautiful soul? I’ll uncover your mouth now, okay?” You slowly nodded once again. Once he moved his hand away, you took a deep breath, about to yell out for Baekhyun, but the male quickly covered your mouth again.

“Wrong choice.” He clicked his tongue before he reached inside his jacket, taking out a sharp knife and slashing a deep cut in your arm. Tears welled up in your eyes as you let out a strangled groan. “Let me try again. What do you know about Black Lotus?”

It was another assassin.

Your eyes fluttered shut, and he slowly removed his hand once again. “I don’t know anything—” You murmured, and the male let out a sigh. “Lying won’t make this any easier, love. You’re making it more and more difficult for me to consider having mercy.”

You could feel the cold blade press against your other arm. At that moment however, you remembered what Baekhyun had told you that day. Your stance was off. You shifted slightly, trying to go unnoticed as you did what he taught you, standing up straighter before you took a deep breath and gave the male a harsh kick against his side.

He let out a heavy puff of air as he stumbled slightly to the side. You saw that as an opportunity to try and run to the door, yet the male threw his knife at you, leaving a harsh cut on your calf and making you fall right on your knees. You let out a loud yelp as you could feel the blood seep out of both cuts and soaking the material of your clothes.

The male then walked towards you, bending over you and letting out a dark chuckle before he punched you right in the gut. You could feel the air getting knocked out of you as you toppled over. “You really are a tough one, aren’t you. Sure, so be it. Don’t tell me anything, but I won’t have mercy on you.” He then took out his knife once again, yet right at that moment Baekhyun stormed inside.

“What the—” His eyes widened as they fell on your figure on the floor before looking at the male. “Get away from her!” You could see Baekhyun’s eyebrows furrow in anger as he lunged at the male, throwing a firm punch at his jaw. The male stumbled back before he let out an airy laugh, throwing the knife to the side and cracking his knuckles. “I waited for this.”

Yet before he could advance, Baekhyun came at him with full force, knocking the male against the wall furthest away from you, and giving the male another punch right in his gut. As Baekhyun was about to lift his arm for another punch, the male reached out to grab his arm, spinning it behind his back and kicking Baekhyun in the back of his knee, making him fall to the ground.

He gave Baekhyun a kick in his gut before flipping him over, moving to sit on him and throwing a punch at his jaw. Baekhyun lifted his arms up to cover his head as the figure on top of him threw multiple punched at it, hitting him occasionally. Yet Baekhyun then shifted beneath the male before grabbing him by the waist and throwing him down, moving to get on top of him as well.

You simply leaned against the bathtub, clutching your stomach tightly as your other hand tried to cover up your bleeding leg, still wincing in pain as you started to feel lightheaded. Baekhyun was now throwing multiple punches at the male’s head, before he pressed his forearm against the male’s throat. “Who the fuck are you?” He hissed, to which the male beneath him let out a choked out noise.

Baekhyun then reached up to the male’s mask, pulling down his face, and you heard him gasp. Though, you couldn’t catch the male’s face because at that moment, you passed out. Just before you heard Baekhyun curse once again.

“Jongdae, what the fuck!” Baekhyun exclaimed as he let go of the male and scrambling off of him. “Took you some time to recognise me.” Jongdae murmured in return, sitting up slightly and wincing in pain. “You could’ve gone easy on me, I went quite easy on you.”

That caused Baekhyun to give Jongdae a firm punch against his arm. “You prick. I’ll end up with an evident bruise on my jaw. I’m sure I have some bruises on my legs. My lip is bleeding, and you almost broke my damn arm! That’s not easy.”

“But I didn’t. Minseok is angry. You haven’t been updating, and he’s losing trust. That’s why he sent me.” Jongdae then slowly stood up, offering a hand for Baekhyun to pull himself up which he accepted. “I see why you’re being so slow. She’s quite the beauty. Is Byun here getting distracted?” Baekhyun lifted up his fist once again, and Jongdae raised his hands in defeat.

“I’m not distracted. I’m still on the job. Tell Minseok that he doesn’t have to send you for this.” Baekhyun hissed in return. “I’m afraid I can’t. You see, Baek. Even though we’re on good terms, a job remains a job. He gave me this job, so depending on which instructions I get, I’ll have to go with it. No matter what. He’ll give me shit already for not killing her off immediately. I’m sorry.” Jongdae lifted his shoulders up in a shrug.

Baekhyun parted his lips to say something but Jongdae cut him off as his eyes fell on your form. “Go take care of her. I might or might not have done some damage. I’m heading out.” He then walked past your passed out state and to the door of the bathroom before turning over his shoulder to look at Baekhyun.

“You’re letting your emotions get the best of you. Don’t. You’re an assassin.” And with that, Jongdae walked away, leaving Baekhyun to quickly aid you.

______________

You let out pained groan as you slowly woke up. You were met with the soft material of your bed, rather than the cold tiles of your bathroom. Frowning, you slowly sat up reaching out to clutch at your head. Your eyes then fell on the stitches on your arm, before you saw a figure sitting by your bed.

As you were about to let out another shriek, your eyes quickly noticed the familiarity. It was Baekhyun. “Hey, someone finally decided to wake up.” He said with a weak smile. You could see the cut on his lower lip and an angry bruise forming on the side of his jaw.

“What happened? I passed out didn’t I? Wait, where is he—” Baekhyun then shushed you, moving over to sit closer to you. “He’s gone. I took care of it. Are you okay? You’ve been out for quite some time.”

You nodded. “I’m alright. I never expected you to be that well of a fighter. It was almost scary. Thank you for saving me.” Your eyes then fell on the stitches on your arm. “And for cleaning me up. You’re not only good at fighting, but also at stitching someone up…” You murmured.

He let out a light chuckle before shrugging. “Experiences forced me to learn how to do it.” You blinked before you felt your lips tug in a smile. You were thankful for him. For multiple reasons.

His smile didn’t falter, and you simply gazed at him. Your eyes roamed all over his face, before eventually falling on his lips. Was this the vibe Yejin mentioned? The way he looked at you with a gentle expression. It seemed as if there was adoration in his eyes. This had to be it.

Which is why you reached out to grab him by his collar, and pulled him forward until your lips collided with his. You could feel your heart rate pick up again as his soft lips molded with yours. You could taste a slightly metallic taste, but that was the last thing that bothered you at this point. All that clouded your mind right now was Baekhyun, and how he moved his lips perfectly with yours.

You felt dizzy as your hands reached up to tangle into his hair, and you could feel his hands rest on your waist. You felt a warmth spread throughout your entire body, and you then slowly pulled away as you felt yourself lose air, fluttering your eyes open to gaze at Baekhyun. He was gazing right back at you, and you couldn’t help the smile that stretched over your lips.

You only hoped that the vibe wasn’t misplaced.

a/n once again, sorry that it took so long!! thank you so much everyone for supporting clandestine. it honestly keeps me going!!! i read all the sweet messages, so thank you! let me know what you think of this chapter below in the comments or my ask!

#exo #exo fanfiction #exo scenario #exo scenarios #baekhyun #baekhyun x reader #byun baekhyun #baekhyun fanfiction #baekhyun scenario #kpop #kpop scenario #kpop fanfiction #kai #chanyeol #jongin #minseok #minseok scenario #chen #jongdae #jongdae scenario #baekhyun smut #baekhyun imagine #exo series #clandestine #baekhyun series #kai scenario

[writemoment]

Recovery Companion Pt.3

Writer: Ellie-Mae (Pen Name)

**Part: 3/5 Previous Parts: 1 - 2

Summary: Being the only girl stuck in a maze with boys, things get complicated. When y/n gets attacked, resulting in several injuries, she is assigned a companion during recovery. Will her quickly developing feelings for the tall, British boy be platonic or something more? And what will happen if or when he finds out?

Pairing: TMR Newt x Female!Reader

Warnings/Rated: Mentions of suicide attempt, attack(s) on character(s), nightmares and fluff!!

Word Count: 4,571

A/N: Hey! Quick note here! So this story will have a bunch of time jumps from here on out so please watch for that. ALSO! I would like to start a new imagine series for you guys - Should I do another TMR or a different fandom? Message me and let me know your ideas!! I really enjoy writing for you guys and would like to continue doing so. Anyway, now you can enjoy the story.**

( Readers ) P.O.V.

To say that Newt and I have been spending a lot of time together feels like an understatement. We sit together during meals (whenever he isn't busy), no matter where I'm working, he collects me to help him do his rounds of The Glade and every night we are together either in his room or mine.

It makes me really happy to be with him and sometimes he's busy so I don't see him much at that time. It doesn't feel overwhelming because we do get breaks from each other. The only things that are bothering me are; Newt acts affectionate one moment then backs off the next.

And...Gladers are starting to notice how much time we spend together, questions and jokes are going around but they don't ever reach Newt because he's second in command - that leaves me to take all the teasing.    

Several weeks have gone by and Newt has been acting strange when we're seen together. I don't know if I should be relieved or hurt, I'm scared of these feelings that I have for him and I don't want to hurt anyone or be hurt.

I woke up this morning to a 'see you later' and a smile from Newt as he was walking out the door. He's been sleeping a lot better recently but when the nightmares hit, they're worse than the last.

One night after I woke him, I decided to ask him what was wrong, what causes the nightmares. He didn't look at me and gave me a vague answer "loss". Not wanting to upset him, I didn't push it or ask again.

I've gathered that it's probably something to do with The Maze, sometimes he cries out in his sleep. Stuff like "run!" "I'm sorry" and "leave me".

After he left this morning, I haven't seen him. It was already dinner and there has been no sign of him. I'm not worried, he's most likely with Minho and/or Alby. I don't worry about him as much anymore because I know that we will see each other every night.

Chuck and Zart sit with me tonight, we're discussing whether or not pranks would be appropriate occasionally around here. I mean, it'd be kind of fun and I'm sure everyone would be a good sport. We are all laughing about our stupid ideas when a boy named Jay comes up and takes a seat beside me.

I don't know him that well, he's just another one of the dozen boys around here that I don't hang out with. I basically stay with my main group of friends and keep friendly with everyone else.

Something about Jay feels off though, I begin to shift uncomfortably when he doesn't say anything to us.

I greet him, offering a small smile with Chuck and Zart following my lead. Jay doesn't acknowledge the boys and continues to stare at me, smiling. "Hey, y/n. I just came over to see how you've been doing." He continues to smile and I assure him that I've been fine.

"That's great. I've noticed you spend a lot of time around the second of command..." God, not this again.

"Yeah, he's a good friend. Like Chuck and Zart here, I like to stay close to my friends." I finish, gesturing at my company. The boys sit quietly, not sure what to do. Silence fills the air and after a few moments, my friends decide to turn in for the night.

After they leave, I finish my food and push it to the middle of the table.

Jay still sits beside me, staring. I uncomfortably smile and try to find a polite way to excuse myself. Sadly, I didn't get to that point. "So, it seems like you are the closest to Newt since he's around your age." I nod, I suppose that's true.    

"You and I are close in age." He slides closer and I lean away from him."Maybe you could become closer with me..."

He places his hand on my knee and I immediately stand up and excuse myself. He grabs me by my arm tightly and I push him off, only for him to advance on me. I pull my arm back and aim for his face but he catches my hand.

Seriously? Why am I always caught in these situations!? He smiles smugly at me but that soon disappears. Another hand suddenly pulls us apart and Newt is standing at my side.

Newt still has Jay's wrist in his hand and pulls him in close, "Don't ever touch her like that again or I will feed you to the Grievers." it's barely a whisper but Jay got the message. Newt shoves him back and the boy stumbles over himself before hastily leaving.

Embarrassed. That's all I feel right now. I don't need to be saved all the time yet I'm so glad he was here. I hold my wrist in my hand and cradle it to my chest. I whisper a thank you, feeling my cheeks flush.

Slowly and gently, he reaches out and takes my wrist in his hands. It's red and turning a light purple in small patches. Newt's face remains expressionless as he examines my wrist.

I pull it away from him, he sighs but doesn't say anything. Not knowing what to do, I told him I was tired and made my way to my room. Our room? I don't even know anymore, all I know is that I need a bed.

Not bothering to change my clothes, I get into bed and cover my entire body. Newt didn't follow me and after a while, I assume he went to his own room. God, I'm such an idiot. Why do I have to be the only girl here?

I thought I could hold my own but I guess that's only true when others are around. Then when I'm alone....I feel out of control, useless.

Out of nowhere, I hear my door open and slam shut. I throw the covers away from my face and see Newt looming over me. Before I can ask or say anything, he's talking and rather loudly.

"I can't take it anymore! I hate it, so much." he half shouts, looking at my confused face.

"You drive me so bloody insane, I can barely stand to be around you! And the worst part is, you don't even realize it."

My heart hurts and I can't think straight. Newt doesn't like me? Were we ever friends or was it just something he felt obligated to do? He keeps talking, not allowing room for me to speak.

"Most of the guys think of you like a sister, a part of our family but others...bloody hell, It makes me want to beat the klunk out of them!" Newt bangs his fist on top of my dresser, irritated. I'm not sure what to think, I'm hurt and confused.

His eyes meet mine, glossed over and I see pain in them. "All I want to do is keep you safe. I want to protect you and make you smile. I want you to never worry over anything and most of all..." He looks away from me, walking to the end of the bed.

"I want you to love me as much as I love you..."

What? My heart flutters and hurts at the same time. Does he really feel the same way I do? With all of my being, I hope he does. Gently, I stand up and walk over to Newt. My hand reaches his shoulder and he turns around to look at me.

Newt. My best friend, the one I love. He's here in front of me and even if this is just a dream, I want him to know that I love him. He looks at me as I scan his face, my other hand going to the back of his head.

"I love you, Newt." I whisper, leaning my face up to his. Although he doesn't move, my lips meet his and soon he's kissing me back. Both of his hands rest on my hips, pulling me closer.

Whatever hurt I felt before, it all disappears and gets replaced with the affection we both have for each other. I pull away, breathing heavily while smiling and Newt places a kiss on my exposed collar bone before hugging me.  We hug tightly for several minutes and I never want to leave this moment. Pecking his lips a few more times, we both head to bed and sit there, talking about everything we kept inside. Newt. The tall, blonde, British boy that I've been drawn to since day one. He's mine now and I, his. My Newt.

Now that Newt and I know we feel the same, so does the entire Glade. He didn't bother hiding it but didn't flaunt it either. I respected that, keeping our business to us. Still, if anyone messed with me, he made it known that I was his. Thankfully, no one has except for a smart comment here and there. 

"'Bout time you guys got together! I was starting to debate stealing her from you." Minho says, laughing.

Newt punches him hard in the shoulder, causing Minho to wince while a smirk creeps onto Newt's face.

A few days passed and we have been so happy. I was working with Chuck today and he wouldn't shut up, which I didn't mind. He was a bit nosy about my relationship but I answered most of the questions as long as they weren't too personal.

On our way to the builders to deliver water, Newt passed me and stuck a piece of paper in my hand. He smiled and winked at me, leaving without a word. Even though I was eager to look at the paper, I didn't want Chuck to know about or read it. I finally got a chance to open the folded note and it read

‘Meet me at the tower after work. - Newt' 

It took everything in me not to smile for the remainder of work but occasionally, I'd feel one spread across my face. So after work, I took a shower and changed into new clothes before heading to the tower.

When I finally reached the top, Newt was sitting with his back against the rails and looking out at the field that makes up most of our home. 

He must have heard me because he looks over, smiling and motioning for me to join him. Everything in front of me made me happy. 

A tan blanket was spread out and our dinner was placed on top. He had a lit torch setting inside it's holder, casting a warm light over everything. But most of all, Newt was there.

I sat beside him and he gave me a kiss, not a long one but gentle. My heart swells and I can't help but smile into his lips.

"I thought I'd try to take you on dates even though it's almost bloody impossible to be somewhere alone." He chuckles lightly and I reassure him how wonderful it is.

Newt always made me feel safe and always took my feelings into consideration. After our lovely date, we ended our night like always. Peacefully asleep in each others arms.

**6 months later **

"You really are a piece of work, Thomas." I laugh at him as he tries to come up with ways to get out of the maze.

"Listen, we've tried all of those things. Unless you have a map of the maze memorized in that head of yours, I'd leave the maze to the runners." I say this in a serious voice.

A few months ago, Newt woke from a nightmare screaming out my name and frantically searching for me. I calmed him down and finally got the truth out of him...

About four months before I arrived in the box, Newt had been a runner. I was confused on how that could be, with his leg and all. Newt was in a dark place, no hope left to be found in his mind.

One day, on a run, he climbed the vines of the maze walls and jumped off. He tried to take his own life but instead he landed on his foot - he fractured his ankle.

I started to cry when he told me, not being able to imagine a world without him. He told me he felt like a failure, like he couldn't do anything right, including his attempt. Minho found him and dragged him back to the glade. His nightmares are about that day. And he has a constant reminder of his failure, his limp.

However, the nightmares started changing when I came up. His voice seemed broken as he told me. "I started dreaming about you coming into the maze to find me..." Newt had never cried in front of me until that night.

"and a Griever gets a hold of you and I can't reach you. I can't run or protect you because I wasn't strong enough to fight for you. I never want that to become a reality, ever. And you're the only thing that keeps me from drowning in those nightmares." Newt finished and I straddled his lap and embraced him.     Quietly I told him that I was happy he failed and that sometimes being a failure is good when succeeding wasn't. We both cried silently and he told me the last secret he had.

"Y/n....there is no way out of the maze."

My mind snaps back to the present, I had forgotten I was talking to the Greenie. 

Thomas came up a few days ago. Newt was originally in charge of showing him around but he got called into a meeting with Alby so I got left with the job.

I hadn't gotten close with any newcomers since Aaron came up but Thomas is nice. He's helping me out in the gardens, he seems to be about Newt's age but he's not as tall as Newt.

 With his messy dark hair and tan skin, he's cute. I feel a connection with him but not like I do with Newt. It's different..

We keep on working even though we're basically finished, we try to stretch the work out until the end of the day. Thomas picks up a chunk of dirt and throws it at me, hitting me square in the forehead. That slinthead....

He barks out laughter, throwing his head back with tears in his eyes. I throw myself at him, tackling his form to the ground and smother loose dirt onto his face. Quickly laughing, I jump off and run.

Newt has been teaching me how to get stronger since we started dating, I had told him how useless I felt. Even Minho has been training me like a runner. Although I can run faster now, Thomas caught up to me near Homestead. I screamed, laughing as he spins me around by my waist.

"Put me down you slinthead!!" When he sets me down, I'm dizzy from the spinning. I nearly fall over but bump into someones chest before I can steady myself.

Oh, klunk. "What are you doing, love?" Newt says as he pushes me to stand, steadying my figure. Thomas and I weren't doing anything wrong, yet I feel guilty. Glancing over at Thomas, he looks as uncomfortable as I feel.

"Hey, hun. We're just goofing off since we finished with work. Clearly, things escalated quickly." I say, gesturing at the dirt stuck to our sweaty faces.

All I get is a hum in reply and Newt grabs my hand, leading me away. When I look back, Thomas is gone. I refocus on wherever my boyfriend is leading me, which apparently is in the Deadheads.

We get to a corner of the maze wall that's surrounded by trees and I get pulled down beside him. I look over at him, patiently waiting for him to speak.

Honestly, I can't tell if he's mad. Even with having been in a relationship with him for over six months and knowing him for almost a year, I can never gauge how pissed he is.

"Newt, are you okay? Please, tell me what's wrong." He doesn't say anything so I reach to turn his face to look at me but he pulls away. What the shuck? Feeling slightly hurt, I pull my hand back. Our hands are still intertwined but he sits away from my body.

I jump when he suddenly turns and begins talking, "Am I failing again?" He looks at me, still emotionless. I'm confused.

"I can't even find a way out of this bloody maze, I can't help look because of my shucking leg and I feel like I'm not making you as happy anymore."

No..no, he can't think that. "Please. Newt, please don't say that. You aren't failing, you never failed at anything good! We've had so many work on that maze and still no one knows. It's not your fault..."

I lay my hand on his knee, wanting so badly to comfort him. "And don't you ever say you don't make me happy. Because that's a bloody lie, you make me smile everyday and love me when I can't even love myself. You're mine and my feelings for you aren't going to go away."

Our eyes meet and he pulls me into a hug. I repeat myself, making sure he understands and doesn't forget how much I love him.

He pulls back and kisses me. Both of us smile and he says, "Good that."

After dinner, we sit around and catch up with our friends. Chuck and Newt are sitting at my sides, Thomas is sitting beside Newt and Minho. My heart flutters, making my cheeks flush when I feel Newt's hand resting on my thigh.

He doesn't mean anything by it, it's something he does unconsciously. It's just a reminder that I'm here with him but even after all this time, the love that fills my heart doesn't cease when he's around.

The hand on my leg squeezes gently which is his signal that he's ready to leave. We say our good-nights to the boys and head upstairs.

"Goodnight, lovebirds!" Minho calls after us.

I stick my tongue at him but he just holds his arms open to me. I quickly jump into his bear hug before continuing to bed. Newt and I just stay in his room now. The other room is vacant, waiting for some glader to occupy it eventually.     I'm changing clothes and standing in my undergarments when Newt comes up behind me, hugging me. He's so warm, I turn and just lean into his warmth. When we pull away, he runs his hand over my chest, over my scar. Quickly, I pull on one of his tank tops and a pair of shorts.

With a little jump, I flop onto the bed and wait for my boyfriend to join me. My eyes close and I hum in contentment. I feel the bed dip but slightly jump when I feel my stomach become exposed.

When I looked, Newt was shirtless and hovering over me. (He still is dressed from the waist down, you pervs.) Lightly his fingertips trace the deep scar on my thigh before he moves on. His eyes become glued on the big pink scar across my stomach. Gently, he places soft kisses across it.

I love this man so much, I didn't think I could ever feel like this. He looks up at me and begins to apologize but I just shush him by throwing a shirt at his face. He feigns irritation as he pulls the shirt over his head. I tug him beside me, kissing him to convey these feelings.

He still blames himself for not stopping Gally, but Newt's the reason why I don't have nightmares about it. We smile at each other and he wraps his muscular arms around me, enveloping me in warmth from his skin.

Huh? Where am I? 

I look around and I'm in some kind of room filled with screens. There are many people in here, all typing something into computers. I move closer to the screen to inspect and gasp. Newt.

 There in front of me, the whole Glade is broadcast and I see Newt running through the maze. That's when everything slows down. Newt, he's climbing the maze wall. No, no this can't happen.

Frozen to the spot, I watch as the love of my life jumps, breaking his ankle. 

Frantically, I start screaming, needing to find a way to help him. The people around me call out and suddenly two men dressed in black clothes drag me out of the room.

 Through the halls, I scream and thrash. Newt. He can't be dead. He can't. The guards throw me into a room and close the doors.

 Immediately, I'm up banging on the door. This can't be happening. Losing strength, I fall onto my knees and cry.

 Suddenly, the door opens and someone pulls me up. Thomas? I don't understand...

 "Y/n, we need to get you into the maze. Newt is alive but I don't think he will last without you going in. I don't know how, but we have to put you in there." Thomas talks fast but calmly.

 "How? There's almost no way that they'd put any of us in there. It's too risky. But whatever you have in that head of yours, if it'll get me to Newt...I'm in." After I finish talking, he tells me to follow him.

 “We need to get you in there soon but because of your outburst, they wouldn't consider putting you in right now. They'd just kill you."

I mutter a sorry, not sure what to say. Thomas just smiles at me, giving me a side hug. "It's okay, I understand. If that were you in there, I'd probably do the same thing. Anyway, we need to get their trust again before we try anything." 

 I agree with that, being killed won't help Newt. We come to a closed door and Thomas grabs my hand. "We can't do this alone though. We need to talk to Teresa."

Gasping, I sit up in bed slightly in panic. Newt jumps, clearly not used to me being the one with the nightmares. "Y/n, are you alright? What's wrong?!" Newt kneels in front of me, rubbing circles into my shoulders.

"Yeah, just a nightmare. It's okay, it was nothing." I tell him but my voice carries no emotion. What was that? And why was Thomas there and who the hell is Teresa?

Newt must accept my answer in his half asleep mind and climbs back into bed with me. He pulls me back to him but I don't sleep for the rest of the night. Who am I? The terrifying thought enters my mind and I can't shake it. What if that wasn't a dream? What if that were a memory...

All I know is that I can't tell Newt, not until I know for sure what's going on. Also, I have to talk to Thomas and see if he knows who Teresa is.

The next morning, I work with Thomas in the gardens again. I want to talk to him but Newt is here along with a few others. Thomas must have noticed because he calls me out on it.

"Hey y/n, you're being awfully quiet. That's a first that I've seen." He says as he throws another chunk of dirt at me and sticks his tongue out. I apologize and force a laugh.

Goosebumps rise on my skin as I feel Newt look at me. He must notice that something is off but doesn't choose to say anything in front of others.

'If that were you in there, I'd probably do the same thing.'

 Who is Thomas to me? And I to him?

With all my being, I hope that it was just a nightmare but the sinking feeling in my stomach makes me think otherwise. No matter how hard I try to think back to any kind of memories, I get super sick. When I think of my nightmare last night, I feel uneasy.

Something is happening and I'm not sure that it's going to be good. My eyes wander over to Newt, feeling my heart sink. In my dream...I called him the love of my life. I wonder...

"Hey, Tommy. Would you go get some more dirt instead of throwing it, yeah?" Newt throws a bucket to Thomas. After he leaves, Newt crouches beside me as I pick weeds from around the veggies.

"Y/n?" he reaches over and holds my face towards him. "You seem off today. What's on your mind, darling?" There's so much concern and love in those eyes, I feel guilty for keeping this from him.

"Nothing, really. Just thinking about the maze..." I trail off, hoping he assumes I'm talking about escaping.

"I'll be fine. It's just one of those things tha-"

Screaming. 

Newt and I jump up. There's screaming from the Deadheads. Oh, no. Thomas..

I grab a shovel and together we run towards the sound. We catch sight of Thomas running with Ben hot on his trail. Ben? He's one of our runners, he shouldn't be here around this time of day.

Ben tackles him and I feel the sinking feeling of remembering this happening to me a year ago. Newt passes me and I throw him my shovel, which he catches with ease.

With a quick swing, Newt slams the shovel into Ben's face. The swing was powerful enough to knock Ben back, giving enough time for the rest of the Gladers to catch up and secure him. I crouch by Thomas, he's not badly injured. I'm relieved that it wasn't as severe as my attack.

Alby comes up and commands the boys to lift Ben's shirt. The runner thrashes, screaming out as they tug up the clothing. There's a small puncture wound but that's not what makes me gasp.

From the small opening, dark purple and blue veins spread underneath the skin like the roots of a tree. At this point, Ben is basically foaming at the mouth.

"He's been stung, take him to the med-hut. I'll meet you guys there. Newt, follow me. Y/n, you have training from the medjacks right?" Alby asks me.

 I reply that I do and he orders me to take Thomas to the spare med room to treat his wounds.

We all follow our orders and I help Thomas over to the extra med room beside the kitchen. I gather some supplies, he doesn't need much help since he only has a few scratches, a cut on his head and a headache.

"Thomas, what happened? Do you know why Ben would attack you?" I ask, not looking up because I'm bandaging him.

He slightly winces and I whisper an apology. "It's okay. I don't know, I was gathering dirt like Newt asked then I started hearing twigs snap. Ben stated yelling at me, he kept saying things like 'this is your fault' and 'you're going to suffer like the rest of us'." Thomas finishes.

I drop the roll of gauze I had in my hand, looking up at Thomas. He asks what's wrong and all I can do is shake my head. Finally finding my words, I choke out quietly,

"Thomas...we put these kids in here..."

Part Four Here

A/N: Duh, duh, duuuuunnnn!!! Hey, hope you guys enjoy this! I will still be posting the next part this Monday so be sure to follow us and watch out for that. Thank you all so so much and I’ll talk to you all soon! - Ellie-Mae

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