#(sound of plastic being quickly scarfed down before anyone gets to him)

[romolossesit]

[targaryenluvs]

HIS POWER / TIM BRADFORD

PAIRINGS: Dark!Tim Bradford x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: After providing a statement to an officer about a robbery, he seems to be everywhere. Even after you start avoiding him.

WARNINGS: Obsession, stalking, abuse of power, breaking and entering, suggestive content

WORDCOUNT: 3.3K Words

A/N: Just started watching the rookie and I’m in love!!🥰

Gif not mine, credits to the owner!

It’d been a normal day at first.

You wanted to run errands through your Monday since you’d been working pretty hard through the last week. But being higher up in the company meant you were able to take days off to work from home when wanted.

You’d been in the confectionary isle since you were throwing a watch party of Harry Potter with all of your friends. As silly as it seemed, you were in the mood for a night of childhood friends and fun.

You had finished up shopping, and as you were making your way up to the register when you heard it.

“Get on the ground, now!”

It was as if time has frozen as you noticed everyone drop to the floor. Luckily your body followed suit and dropped down as well. But you were a minute too late as one of the men noticed you. “Didn’t I say to get down bitch?”

The word sounded foreign in your ears, to the point where you didn’t even realise he was talking to you, until he came over to you.

He pulled you up by your hair as he waved the gun around, “You ain’t talking now huh?” His grip on your hair tightened as you clenched your eyes shut. When you opened them you noticed someone reaching for their phone. You may as well try to buy her time.

You looked over at her as she mouthed, “911.” You acknowledged her by closing your eyes before talking, “What do you want me to say?” You could hear him chuckle, “Now you’re chatty.”

You shuffled until you were able to turn around to face him, taking his attention away from the woman calling the police. “Please, just take the money and go.” One of the other men came back from behind, seeming to have a mass of purses, most likely from the employees.

“I just want to talk to you baby.” Whether it was the nickname or his demeanour, you sure as hell didn’t want to talk to him anymore. So you took a risk.

Kicking him in the crotch.

You could hear him groan before falling to the floor, his gun slipping out of his hands as you grabbed it. You quickly slid it to the woman on the phone with the police before kicking him in the stomach. “You b—,” before he could continue you kicked him in the face.

You remembered there were only two others that had entered the store. One in the back and the other across the store. So you took the time to tie the man up using someone’s scarf, then stuffing his mouth with plastic bags. You had two other shoppers guard him as you took the gun back.

There were four men in your view, you quickly waved them over before making a plan.

“She’s having her baby! Someone help!”

Footsteps echoed through the place as the other man ran to the woman shouting, Sierra, “Who is it?” This man was seemingly calmer than the other you’d dealt with, “Here!” And as he turned you bashed his face with the end of your gun, and as he fell one of the shoppers took his gun. “Good job Jack, two down and one to go.”

“Bad idea, not taking me out first.” The last robber left standing had his firearm to Sierras head, with an arm around her neck. You and Jack immediately raised your guns in his directions, “Go ahead, shoot. Wonder what this pretty girls head’ll look like across the floor. Got nothing left to loose.”

Your saving grace came not only in the sirens outside.

“Put your guns down, slowly.” You and Jack hesitated, which proved to be a mistake as he aimed towards one of the other hostages, aiming and shooting at her leg. As she screamed out you folded, “Okay! Just don’t hurt anyone else.” Jack followed your lead as you put your guns down. The second you did he pushed her to the side, coming for you.

“You ruined my plan. For what? To be a hero?” His breath was heavy against your cheek, spite filled and hot. You shook your head immediately. “Well because of that, you can help me get out of here.”

He had you pick up the guns and stuff them into his duffel bag before leading you to the back at gun point. “Might just have some fun with you while we’re here.” He laughed as he opened the door.

“Hope you’re ready for some fun in prison.” As the two of you exited the store you were met with four cops, the one speaking standing in front of you. As he was momentarily distracted by being caught you turned to push him to the floor before running into the cops arms.

His partner rushed forwards to cuff him whilst reciting his rights. You clung onto the man as he held you, “You’re okay, I’ve got you.” You buried your face into his chest, taking a second to breathe before stepping back.

You read his badge, Bradford.

“Thank you, Officer Bradford.” Your smile was small, but more than enough for him. “Call me Tim.” His partner, which you learned was Lucy, eyed him up. It wasn’t everyday the grumpiest guy she knew allowed his first name to be used by a stranger.

“Let’s get you down to the station huh?” You nodded as he directed you to the back of his car. Lucy rose an eyebrow, “Couldn’t we have taken her statement here?” Tim aimed a pointed look her way, which screamed ‘shut up’. “She was actively involved, taken hostage and helped to disable every robber. Her account is more serious than the others and she might need to get checked up on. It’ll be a long statement so we’ll interview her at the station. Anything else boot?”

Lucy shook her head, “Good, now get in.”

You’d been waiting for someone to enter the room, luckily it was Tim. “I’m going to be taking your statement okay? I need you to detail everything that happened since the start of your day. Don’t leaving anything out.” You nodded along as he sat down, offering you a smile.

“Let’s begin.” You didn’t leave anything out as he asked you not to. Tim was nodding along, jotting down key bits of information as you spoke. It felt like time had passed by quickly talking to him, even if you were doing most of the talking. It’d been over an hour already.

“Alright, hang tight in here. You’ll be home in no time, probably best to take some time to yourself to recuperate. No friends.” He stood up, tucking his notepad and pen away before offering you a nice smile as you returned it. “Thank you, for not being rude and actually listening.” Tim stopped in the doorway, turning back around to you. He raised his eyebrow, waiting for more. “Why would I be rude?”

“Just, lately I’ve been seeing about a million horror story cop interactions. And I was scared to be interviewed. But you were really nice, so thanks. If there’s anything I can do, or tell you then let me know.” Before he could respond someone walked past and asked if he’d gotten your information.

“She’s free to go if you have.” You felt a weight lift off of your chest, as much as you liked being across from the gorgeous cop Tim was, you wanted nothing more than to sleep. He nodded as she left, turning his attention back to you. “Well, you’ve done more than enough regarding information. As for something you can do,” You straightened up in your chair.

“You could buy me a drink tomorrow.”

The bar was packed, but apparently Tim was a regular to the point where he had a seat waiting for him. Being the kind person he was, he let you sit on the seat. But the place was crowded so he ended practically between your legs. “So what’re you having Officer?” Tim scoffed at the title, “I’ll have what ever you’re having.” You giggled, “You want a martini?” He cringed at the words.

“Maybe I won’t have what you’re having.” You waved down the bartender, before ordering for the both of you. Whilst ordering you could feel his eyes on you, staring intently, “Is there something on my face?” He shook his head, “You’re just so gorgeous.”

You could feel the heat rush to your cheeks, “Don’t.” He swiped away the hair that fell in front of your face, “Why not, you are. I always tell the truth.” Your drinks were slid over as you both grabbed your respective drinks. Taking a sip, he stared at you as he drank his beer.

The night progressed quickly, the two of you getting lost in easily flowing conversation. “I’m gonna head to the bathroom.” You held your thumbs up to him as he walked away, weaving through the sea of people.

Taking a sip of your fourth drink, you noticed that he’d left behind his phone on the counter. You didn’t mean to pry, but your hand had a mind of its own as it swooped his phone up. You wish you hadn’t. His wallpaper was somehow a photo of you and you’d only known him for two days.

If there was one thing you didn’t think you were, it was stupid.

You swiftly swung your purse over your shoulder before making your way out of the bar and outside. It was then that you realised the fact that Tim had picked you up. “There you are.” His voice was quieter than before, now outside and not interrupted by others.

“It was getting stuffy in there, needed to breathe. I’m feeling pretty tired, you mind if we call it a night?” He shook his head, “Not at all, I’ll drop you off.” You smiled before making your way to his car.

“Doesn’t someone need to pay?” You were praying he’d take the bait and leave you to flag down a cab or call an uber. “I’ve got good credit here, we’ll be fine.”

You just needed to get home. That was all. Once you were home you could avoid him and not see him ever again. Just get home Y/n.

The ride home was filled mostly with Tim talking at you and your short replies. You didn’t want to seem suspicious but you were too scared to have a proper conversation with him. All you could see was the wallpaper burned into your mind.

As he pulled up to your apartment you felt a tiny spark of relief, you’d made it home. “You okay?” His hand rested on your thigh, “Yeah I’m alright, just tired.” You pressed your lips into a tight line, you hadn’t looked at him yet.

You wished you hadn’t, he looked pissed.

His hand tightened, “You’re lying. Did you meet someone else at the bar?” Your face scrunched up in confusion, “What? No! You were gone for minutes. How the hell am I striking up a conversation with someone and liking them in that time? I need to go.” You were met with a locked door.

You turned back to him with an awkward smile, you wrapped your hand around his in an attempt to calm him down. “Tim, I promise. Nothing happened. Please let me go inside, you can walk me to the door. I want you to.” Your lie seemed to take, as he retracted his hand to open the door. You grounded yourself by clutching onto your purse, leaving crescent indents in the leather.

His hand came around your waist, holding on tightly as you made your way into the apartment building. You quickly pressed for the third floor, not your own. “Goodnight Tim, I had a good time.” You turned to him, pressing a kiss to his cheek before running into the elevator. As the doors closed you could see him, momentarily stunned at the kiss.

You exhaled the second the doors closed. If you were lucky, you wouldn’t be seeing him after this. You’d survived the night, as well as him.

The next few days had been normal, thankfully. You’d been paranoid to a fault, and rightfully so.

Tim Bradford is a cop.

Which meant he had access to so much more than any regular person. He not only knew where you lived from the information he’d collected, but he could search you up. He could find out so much about your life with just a few clicks of a button.

And he did. He utilised his resources to find out as much about you as he could over the week or so since your date. When you’d gone to the bathroom, he’d accessed your phone and was now successfully tracking you. Never leave your stuff with an obsessed cop, am I right?

After the robbery, he couldn’t risk your safety.

But the biggest mystery of all in Tim’s eyes was why you hadn’t called him yet. You’d been working a lot recently, early days and late nights. You needed a break from work. The only places you went which weren’t your workplace or home was your gym.

You were done for the day.

The sweat that you were covered in made you shine in the fluorescent lights of the gym. You couldn’t wait to take a shower, but the gym was currently repairing their facilities so you’d have to wait until home.

If you’d been paying attention to your surroundings rather than yourself you would’ve noticed Tim hovering in the background. You grabbed your waterbottle and made your way to the locker rooms. Patting yourself down with your towel before changing your sweaty clothes into normal clothes. The more laundry the better?

You walked out to your car, blissfully unaware of the shadow following you. As you fiddled with your Airpod case you accidentally let your keys slip through your hands. Sighing in annoyance before bending down to grab them from underneath your car. Not expecting to be met with him once you got up.

“You scared me Tim.” Your hand clutched onto your shirt, over your heart as you rested against your car.

“Sorry. just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I am, thank you for asking. I just… I feel like I’m seeing you everywhere. Like I’ve gone crazy.”

“Maybe it’s a sign.”

“For what?”

“To go out with me? Tonight?” You awkwardly laughed, holding onto the back of your neck. “As much as I’d love to, I’m not really in the market for a partner. I’m sorry. And I’m already going out with friends tonight.” His smile was wide, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “No need to apologise, just figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask. We had such a nice night last time. You looked amazing.”

You felt bad for turning him down, but again, you couldn’t help but think. He never showed up before, but you see him once and now hes everywhere? It didn’t seem right to you. You chuckled dryly, “Thanks, you’re not so bad yourself. And yeah, I meant it as a friendly outing.” As you opened your door, it slammed in front of you.

Tim stood closer than before, and his nice smile and sweet voice seemed so far away. His hand rested on your door, having shut it. “You sure as hell didn’t dress like it was a friendly outing. Go out with me Y/n/n.” Your eyes squinted at his use of your nickname, which you hadn’t told him to use.

“I’m sorry, I just— Oh god.” Your eyes widened behind Tim as his head whipped behind, “What is it?” The door quickly slammed shut as you sat in the drivers seat. Tim turned back, you tricked him. He tried to open the door but you quickly pressed the lock.

“Open the door.”

His voice was low, it was a threat.

You pressed the button to start your car up, not daring to look his way. God knows what you’d be met with. You quickly pulled out of the gyms parking lot, mustering up the courage to look into your rear view mirror.

He wasn’t there.

You couldn’t tell if him not being there was more frightening than comforting. But you did need to put as many miles between you and Tim as possible. A night out with friends would help take your mind off it.

As you came home, you couldn’t help but sigh. The night had been totally exhausting as well as exhilarating. It’d been a while since you’d seen your friends, since your marathon had been cancelled after the attempted robbery. And you had also subconsciously taken Tims advice to not have any friends over.

As much as you hate to admit it, he was right. It was nice to take some time to recuperate and understand what happened before seeing friends. The millions of questions they threw at you tonight were even worse than when they were over the phone.

‘Are you okay?’

‘We don’t have to go out tonight!’

‘We can stay in, order some food?’

‘If you need to talk, I’m here.’

You were definitely grateful to have so many friends that cared about you after something pretty traumatic, but all you wanted was to drink, dance and forget. Which was partially successful. But he wouldn’t leave your mind.

Tim had basically infiltrated your life since you first met him that afternoon. And you had no clue what about you screamed to him, enticed him.

You wracked your brain trying to think about any time you would’ve given him any sort of signal to needing him. To inviting him into your life. And you couldn’t come up with a single sign. Maybe he was just insane?

How could you even get rid of him?

He was a literal cop. When at the station, you couldn’t help but notice how often people talked about him. Whether it was how amazing he was, or how reckless. The overall consensus was that he was a good guy, just a bit odd or impulsive. You couldn’t help but feel bad as well. He’d literally saved you from being hurt, or worse. And when you’d talked to him, he seemed so sweet.

Tim Bradford was respected, and you were just a civilian.

But to Tim? You were so much more. Having you in his arms, fully reliant on him to help save you. He knew you needed him, you just didn’t realise it yet. But he’d help you realise, there was no need to worry. He’d keep you safe, you’d never be in such a situation ever again. He wouldn’t fail you like he failed his ex.

“Had a nice night?”

Your blood ran cold and your bubble of bliss from the night out had effectively been popped. He was in your home. How did he know where you— he’s a cop. He probably knew more about you than you knew. “I did.” Tim stood from your couch, making his way to you.

“Meet anyone?” You shook your head adamantly, “No one Tim.” You needed to play your cards right if you were going to get away from this psycho alive. God knows what he wanted to do or what he was after.

By the time he was in front of you he had you pinned to the wall, right by the hallway. His hands came around your hips, fingers digging in. He smelled your neck, savouring the sweet perfume. “You smell amazing, and you look…” He was practically undressing you with his eyes. “Bet you danced a lot tonight, should take a shower.” Of course you’d love that. Which is what you wanted to say, but with his eyes burning into you?

You couldn’t respond. Not when his hands began to roam, and tug on the strings of your dress. Not when he led you into your bathroom, and let the bath fill up or when he undressed you and himself.

You were practically frozen as he bathed you.

He acted as if it was where he belonged, as if this was a daily occurrence for you and him. You knew you couldn’t get away now,

You were too late and scared of his power.

[jungshookz]

skate a little piece of my heart; jjk

➺ pairing; jeon jungkook x reader

➺ genre; rollerskatinginstructor!jungkook!! sfw!! fluff!! honk honk humour!! jungkook is a very handsome instructor and y/n can’t tell if that’s a bad thing or a good thing

➺ wordcount; 6.3k

➺ summary; your two left feet and complete lack of balance isn’t the only thing that’s making you weak in the knees this valentine’s day. 

➺ what to expect; “rollerskating is already hard enough as it is, and now i have to do it in front of him?!” 

➺ currently spinning on the record player; how deep is your love; bee gees

                                     »»————-　💫  ————-««

“this is so dumb.”

“safety is never dumb, y/n!” taehyung raps his knuckles against the top of your helmet and you scowl before swatting his hand away, “now, where are your kneepads?”

you let out a groan before tilting your head back slowly, your eyes widening in slight panic at the surprisingly hefty weight of the helmet

your arms flail for a second and you immediately reach up to grip both sides of the helmet before forcing your head back up

jesus

you nearly snapped your own neck there

of course, snapping your own neck would mean not being able to skate because you’d technically be dead… so maybe that’s not such a bad idea after all…

(by the way, it’s concerning how many times you’ve considered literal death just to get out of doing something.)

“are you going to lift your leg for me or do i have to do everything for you?”

you look down to see taehyung down on the ground in front of you holding one of the knee pads and you frown lightly before lifting your leg and placing your sock-clad foot on his knee

“please tell me this is the last of the safety gear…” you whine, “tae, i literally look so dorky right now- no one else is wearing helmets or knee and elbow pads!” you gesture to seokjin and namjoon who are busy putting on their skates over on the other bench before scoffing lightly and crossing your arms 

if namjoon (arguably the klutziest one out of this group of people) isn’t even wearing a helmet, then what does that say about you??

you’ve seen him trip over nothing and scrape both his knees so why are you the only one wearing all of this junk?!

“i took you ice-skating over christmas and you fell flat on your ass more times than i could count, and you insisted that you didn’t need any safety equipment even though it was alarmingly clear that you did. i basically spent two hours making sure you didn’t die-” taehyung looks up at you with a raised brow, “do you want to fall and split your skull open in front of everyone?”

“if it means not having to gear up in all this dorkware- then, yes. i would love to have my brains splat across the rink in front of everyone. in fact, that would probably be less embarrassing-” you grumble, flinching slightly as taehyung suddenly yanks hard to tighten up your laces, “i’m an adult, taehyung! grown-ups don’t need to wear all of this!” 

“grown-ups don’t throw tantrums either, but here you are…” taehyung mutters under his breath, putting your foot down before giving your knee a slap, “perfect! we’re good to go!”

“yeah, yeah…” you reach under to scratch at your elbow only to feel your nails scrape against the smooth surface of the plastic protection shell and you resist the urge to rip it off out of frustration

taehyung decided that it’d be a great idea to bring everyone to a rollerskating rink for valentine’s day this year instead of… letting people go out to intimate dinners and celebrate on their own… because, quote, ‘i just want all of us to spend more time together, and what better day to do that then on valentine’s day?? …ooh, we should call it pal-entine’s day. ha! get it?? because we’re all pals-’

(he was dumped recently, so everyone’s kind of letting him run the ship for now. …basically, no one can say no to taehyung unless they want to see him burst into tears. he’s still in a very delicate state.)

but, honestly… a rollerskating rink!

out of all the places to go to!

you already have two left feet, so forcing said left feet into shoes with wheels is a horrible idea

“i think it’d be best if i just sat back and watched you guys!” you try for the umpteenth time to get taehyung to let you off the hook, “plus, they sell chilli dogs here and they actually smell really good and i kind of want to order one for myself even though it might end in me having to get my stomach pumped-” you gesture back towards the refreshments counter and taehyung shakes his head before sticking his hand out for you

“there’s plenty of time for you to scarf down a rubbery hotdog later- now, c’mon-”

“i don’t even know how to skate!”

“that’s fine, you’ll learn! it’ll be like riding a bicycle except you are the bicycle-”

“you know, i’m just going to be complaining the whole time, and it’s going to ruin your time here. honestly, tae, why am i here??”

“because i’m not emotionally stable enough to spend valentine’s day alone yet and i need to surround myself with as many people as possible otherwise i’m going to be alone with my thoughts and i’m going to spiral!” taehyung’s voice cracks as he snaps at you and you immediately press your lips together and avert your gaze, trying to ignore the weird glances the two of you are getting from the strangers around you

…

“okay, well-” you push yourself up off the bench before wobbling slightly and reaching over to grab onto taehyung’s arm for stability, “i don’t know about you, but i’m most certainly ready to tear up that rink!”

“perfect!” taehyung chirps, quickly reverting back to his ‘everything is fine and i’m definitely not dying on the inside’ state, “and don’t worry. rollerskating is much easier than ice-skating, so there’s less of a chance of you potentially embarrassing yourself here-” taehyung gives your hand a pat as the two of you shuffle your way towards the entrance gate, “trust me, you’ll get the hang of it as soon as you start!”

“you saw me on ice…” you snort, your knees already wobbling as you take your first step into the rink, “i really don’t think i’m going to be any better on wood-”

“well, lucky for you…” taehyung lets go of you and you immediately cling to the railing in panic, “i went ahead i hired an instructor for you!”

you frown as you pull one hand away and rub your fingers together 

god, why are the railings so sticky-

“you- woah, hold on a second-” you look up and over at taehyung with wide eyes when you finally catch on to what he just said, “i’m sorry, you did what?”

“what? i can’t stay by your side and watch you all night.” he shrugs, placing his hands on his hips as he stands in front of you, “we were moving so slowly on the ice that i was sure it was starting to melt underneath our skates-”

“you just told me you don’t want to be alone and now you’re handing me off to someone else instead of spending time with me??” you frown, manoeuvring your stance so that both your hands are gripping onto the railing behind your bum, “why force me to skate if you’re not doing it with me?”

“i mean, i obviously want to spend time with you, but i also don’t want to be skating, like, one mile an hour-” taehyung snorts, “i’m forcing you to skate so that one day, we can skate together without me having to worry about you slipping and sliding all over the place like a baby giraffe!”

“well, why can’t you teach me instead of paying for someone else to do it?”

a brief moment of silence passes as taehyung rolls over to get you to release your iron grip from the bars

“…because teaching you how to skate instead of actually spending time skating sounded really boring-” he mutters quickly, your eyes widening as you turn to look at him

“wha-”

“also-” he cuts you off, placing his hands on your hips from behind as he starts to roll you forwards slowly (though, you haven’t noticed this yet because you’re still focused on the fact that he didn’t want to teach you - you’re a great student!!), “there was a girl who kept smiling at me when i was strapping you up in all your gear, and i need to find out if i still have game or not-”

“this sounds more like you’re trying to fill the empty void inside of you with meaningless sex, which, by the way, isn’t a very healthy coping mechanism-” 

“i will fill this empty void inside of me in whichever way i want, thank you very much-” taehyung snorts, shaking his head, “plus, it’s too late to back out because the policy states that they don’t take refunds and he’s already here-”

“wait, what??” you immediately look back to the front, the fact that you are being rolled towards someone now sinking into your brain, “who- oh my god, stop rolling me-!”

taehyung’s fingers dig into your hips as he comes to a sudden halt, “what??”

“spin me around.” 

taehyung blinks before slowly turning you around so that you’re facing him and you pray to god that you don’t look like some kind of rotating rotisserie chicken right now  

you open your mouth to speak when you finally see taehyung’s face again but he continues to spin you slowly so that you end up in the same position you were in a second ago

...

“for god’s sake, taehyung- spin me around so i’m looking at you, you moron-”

“ohh, okay, i thought you just wanted to spin you around for fun-”

“why would i want you to spin me around for f- okay, that’s not important right now-” you shake your head, “i just want to say that the only reason why i’m doing this is because you kind of sprung this on me last minute and i don’t want to inconvenience anyone, but just know that you now owe me big time- now, spin me back around and wheel me to whoever i’m going to be stuck with for the next couple of hours.”

“noted!” taehyung chirps as he rolls you back so you’re facing the front, “he’s right over there by the other entrance- the guy in the yellow-” your eyes flit around until they land on the guy in the yellow and you immediately feel your heart starting to beat a little harder in your chest at the sight of the guy in the yellow, “his name’s jungkook, he has a shining five-star rating, he’s a wonderful teacher according to all the parents whose kids he’s taught- i’m pretty sure you’re his oldest student so don’t embarrass yourself-”

you feel your mouth go dry when jungkook reaches down to adjust the bottom of his tied button-up shirt before opening the sides of it a little more to show off his chest

he reaches up to twirl a loose tendril of hair around his finger before gently pushing it back and running his hand through his hair, poking his tongue against the inside of his cheek briefly 

oh no

oh, no

he’s attractive

he’s very, very attractive

“tae.” you keep a polite smile on your face as you slink your right arm behind you to attempt to blindly punch him in the gut, “why didn’t you tell me that the instructor was cute?”

“oh, i’m sorry.” taehyung responds sarcastically, “i didn’t think attractiveness was an important factor when considering an instructor.”

“well, it is when the instructor looks like that-” you feel your cheeks warm when jungkook smiles brightly at the two of you before waving enthusiastically, “rollerskating is already hard enough as it is, and now i have to do it in front of him?!”

“i don’t know what there is to freak out about. the guy’s handsome- so what?” taehyung waves back at jungkook before giving your hips a playful squeeze, “if anything, you should see this as a bonus - you get some eye-candy while you learn!”

“okay, well, don’t make me sound pervy-”

“not to mention, he’s your age! so it’ll be like you’re just hanging out with a friend-”

“a friend?! taehyung, i’m wearing overalls, my hair is in pigtails, and all this protective gear that you shoved me in makes me look like an eight year old-!” you gasp when you feel yourself suddenly bump into something hard and taehyung quickly loops his arm around your waist to keep you from toppling over

it’s a second later that you realize the something hard that you bumped into was jungkook’s obviously broad chest, so obviously this rollerskating lesson is already off to a fantastic start 

“woah, you got it?” jungkook holds both his hands out in case you fall over and you let out a nervous chuckle before reaching up to push your helmet up slightly

“i’m fine!” your voice cracks and you clear your throat quickly, “…hello.”

“hi! it’s nice to meet you- y/n, right?” jungkook sticks his hand out for you to shake and you smile nervously before reaching out to take it, “my name’s jungkook! i’m super excited for today. we’re going to have a lot of fun together.”

you don’t know if it’s just because he’s clearly one of those fun and overly friendly! instructors or if he’s just naturally bubbly but he’s talking to you like you’re a child

(you probably could’ve ditched the pigtails today.) 

“okay, i’m going to go off now so let me just hand y/n over to you-” taehyung arm slips from your waist before he gently rolls you towards jungkook, “you two have fun!”

your hands immediately slap down on the railings right as you feel yourself about you slip and you let out a breath of relief

that was a close call

“we will!” jungkook smiles, waving at taehyung as he skates off, “you enjoy yourself out there!”

you watch helplessly as taehyung skates away, jungkook turning back to look at you with a (very handsome) smile

you feel your heart skip a beat once again and you immediately curse in your head 

…you’re screwed.

                                    »»————-　💫  ————-««

“because of the balance and control required, it’ll take a little bit of getting used to- but once you get the hang out it, rollerskating is super fun!” jungkook reaches out so you can take his hand, “do you wanna let go of the bar for me?”

there are a lot of things you’d like to do for jungkook but letting go of the railing and potentially falling in front of him is most definitely not one of them

“you know, i think i’m good!” you chuckle, your knuckles practically going white at how tightly you’re gripping onto the railing, “why don’t you just keep talking while i… you know, get used to the feeling of just standing while wearing skates?”

“okay, if that’s what you’re comfortable with, that’s what we can do. let’s see… ah!” jungkook perks up, clapping his hands together before gesturing down to his own feet, “so, you’re gonna wanna keep your feet shoulder-width apart. can you do that for me?”

you look down at your feet, not at all surprised to see that they’re practically glued to each other

okay

shoulder-width apart

you can do that, right?

you lift your right foot up slowly before quickly moving it farther away from your left foot, your skate skidding slightly against the floor as you stomp down

goD these skates are clunky

you’ll never understand how people find this activity genuinely enjoyable

“see? not so bad, right? now, i’m really going to need you to let go of the bar for me so that we can move onto the next step- i swear i won’t let you fall if you take my hand.”

your eyes flicker down to his outstretched hand and you twist your lips uncertainly, “you promise?”

jungkook places his hand over his heart, “i promise.”

you lift one hand off the rail and quickly take jungkook’s hand, pausing for a second to make sure that everything feels okay before quickly lifting the other hand off the rail

you practically slap your hand down on jungkook’s other palm and let out a breath of relief as soon as he grips it tightly, and you look back in concern when jungkook starts to pull you away from the railing

“there you go! see?” jungkook smiles brightly, giving your hands a squeeze to get you to focus on him instead of the bars, “not so bad, right?” 

“yeah, i guess so…” you puff out, feeling your heart starting to pound harder not onLY because the safety of the railings have been taken away from you but also because jungkook’s hands are… very soft.,,. and very warm,.,. and very pretty.,., and all-in-all very nice

“okay, step two. so, this next part is going to make you feel a little silly, but we have to walk like ducks because it just makes the process of walking easier. you kind of have to point your toes outwards- yeah, just like that! and don’t forget to squat a little-” jungkook hums, leaning over a little so he can look to see if your stance is okay, “perfect! we’re just going to keep practicing until you get used to walking...”  

“you know, taehyung actually took me ice-skating over the holidays and i fell, like… ten times.” you snort, keeping your eyes on your skates as you take one small step after another, “i thought rollerskating would be easier but i feel like there are more rules to worry about…”

“oh my god, don’t even worry about it-“ jungkook snorts, shaking his head, “i’m an awful ice-skater. you’d think it’d come naturally to me because i can rollerskate- plus, i don’t see the fun in ice-skating! i know it’d never happen but i’m always paranoid that the skates are going to slice-”

“-the ice open and you’re going to fall through and plunge into the icy water?”

“exactly! see, you get it.” jungkook grins, leaning down a little to check your posture again, “you know, you’re a complete natural. i don’t know why you were so nervous to begin with!”

you snort in response and resist the urge to tell him that his face was one of the major things that contributed to your nerves 

“ooh, and you know what else i hate about ice-skating?” jungkook gasps, “that if i fall and get my hands on the ground, someone’s going to skate over them and amputate all of my fingers.”

you immediately burst into giggles and he gawks playfully

“are you laughing at a genuine fear of mine, y/n?? i didn’t take you to be someone who could be so cruel…”

“no, i’m not laughing at you!” you smile softly and you can’t help but note how warm and comforting his presence is, “i’m just- i said that exact same thing to taehyung when we were ice-skating and he said i was being ridiculous, so it’s nice to know that someone shares the same opinions on ice-skating as i do.” you instinctively squeeze jungkook’s hands when you feel the wheels roll out from underneath you a little and you end up jerking forward a little 

“woah-! you’re okay- i’ve got you…” jungkook rubs his thumbs over your knuckles reassuringly as he waits for you to regain your balance and start walking again, “i told you i wouldn’t let you fall, remember?”

“yeah…” you smile shyly, feeling your cheeks heat up a little

you don’t feel as nervous anymore

no wonder jungkook has a five-star rating as an instructor

he’s great!

“also, you do realise we’ve walked, like, an entire round around the rink, right?”

“what? we have?” you pause, looking up from your skates for the first time in ten minutes 

you’re almost at the spot you were at right when you first started

woah

wow!!

you didn’t even realize!!

that’s so cool!!

you walked an entire round without falling (a lot of almost-falling, but you’ll take it)!!!

“i mean, i don’t know about you, but i feel like we can move on to gliding now…” jungkook whistles lowly, “you’re a very fast learner so i’m not worried.”

“gliding is…” you lean over a little when you notice taehyung having a blast at the other side of the rink with his new companion, the two of them skating side by side

she laughs at something he says before playfully swatting at his arm

it’s just good to see him smiling and not crying for once 

one of the things that you love most about taehying is that he’s so in tune with his emotions, but when his ex (he forbade you from saying her name) broke up with him, he cried so much that you were pretty sure he had completely dehydrated himself 

so it’s nice that he seems to be enjoying himself! 

“so, gliding is-” jungkook steps over to get right into your line of vision and you quickly look back at him with an attentive smile, “basically turning your steps into smoooooth strokes. instead of dropping your foot straight down, you’re going to be pushing it forward and out. it’s kind of hard to explain gliding… you kinda just have to let momentum carry you forward and do its thing, you know? it’s literally just a one foot after the other situation.”

“well, if you can glide backwards, i’m sure i can figure out how to do it normally.” you point out, jungkook snorting in response

“trust me, you’ll be able to pick it up quickly. remember that when you’re gliding on one foot to keep your other slightly hovering above ground so it doesn’t interfere-” jungkook stops himself when he notices your brows knitting together (you seem to do this a lot when you’re focusing too hard on something), “ah, you know- i find that it’s easier to glide when you’re not actually focused on the gliding!” he chirps, giving your hands a reassuring squeeze, “if it helps, you can keep your eyes on me instead of staring down at your skates.”

hAh

if anything, staring directly at jungkook is going to throw you off your game compared to keeping your eyes glued on the ground

“okay, i will... try not to focus on the gliding while simultaneously focus on the gliding.” your tongue instinctively pokes out slightly in concentration as you push forward with one foot, being sure to keep your other a little above ground just like jungkook said 

you quickly switch to the other foot when you feel your right foot slowly starting to lose momentum, pushing off with your left instead and lengthening your stride so you can skate a little further 

hey

look at that! 

not bad!! 

“look at you go, superstar!” jungkook cheers encouragingly, grinning from ear to ear as he watches you gliding flawlessly, “you were born for this!” 

“you know, you may have a point- woAh-” your skates roll out a little from under you and you lurch forward, jungkook quickly sliding his grip from your hands to underneath your elbows to keep you from falling, “...yeah, so i spoke too soon.” you huff, blowing a strand of hair away from your face as you glance up at jungkook, still bent over at a ninety degree angle

“it’s my bad, i think i may have blown up your ego with all my compliments-” the sides of his eyes crinkle as he laughs, “all good?” 

you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and feel a piece of your soul float out from your body when you realise you basically look like a little old woman clutching onto one of those rolling walkers

wow

the possibility of jungkook being interested in you was low to begin with, but now it’s probably been squashed entirely

“uh, yes!” you clear your throat as you force yourself to stand up stick-straight, your knees clacking together for a second before you get back into position, “all good! i’m all good. we’re good.” 

oh boy 

if it makes you feel any better… it can’t get any worse than this, right?

“i-” you jolt when the music suddenly clicks off and is replaced by the shrill ringing of microphone feedback

“youch.” jungkook winces, raising his shoulder slightly and tilting his head down towards it so he can try to cover up one of his ears 

your brows furrow in confusion as you look up towards the speakers, unsure of if there’s just a technical difficulty or if something important is happening, “what’s going o-”

“sorry for the interruption, skaters! we just wanted to cut in and wish every single one of you a happy valentine’s day...” 

a large disco ball lowers from the ceiling as the lights begin to dim, the room suddenly engulfed in a warm pink glow as visions of glinting sparkles and hearts reflect from the disco ball onto the wooden floors along with the velvety walls

oh, god

seriously?!

you look up towards the speakers and resist the urge to curse and shake your fist at them like an angry old man

haven’t the people here considered that there might be single people in the rink?! 

…on valentine’s day…??

yeah that doesn’t make much sense

“grab your lover and glide along the floor as we play you some romantic tunes on this romantic evening… also, to the owner of a baby blue mercedes-benz convertible- i repeat, a baby blue mercedez-benz convertible... your car is parked in a tow-away zone. that’s all!”

the bee gees’ how deep is your love starts to play and you quickly pull your hands away from jungkook’s, your face flushing in embarrassment at the sudden change in atmosphere

you wobble slightly as soon as you pull away and immediately stick both your arms out in a poor attempt to keep balanced

okay

all you have to do is glide your way towards the exit so that you’re not just awkwardly standing in the middle of the ring while lovey-dovey couples skate around you

it’s only then that you realise that jungkook is facing away from you and seemingly looking for someone

you tap him on the shoulder and he turns to glance at you, “yes?”

“who... who are you looking for?” you frown, leaning over to peer over him so you can see what he’s seeing

“hm? oh, i was just looking for your boyfriend…” he trails off, continuing to look around the rink, “the two of you probably want to skate together right now and you’ll get to show off your brand new gliding skills, which is exciting-”

“boyfri- are you talking about taehyung?” you snort, quirking a brow in amusement, “he’s… oh my god, he’s definitely not my boyfriend. i’m only here for emotional support because he just got out of a relationship- we don’t have to get into it- the point is, he’s not my boyfriend. i don’t, uh, i’m not in a relationship at the moment. i’m… very single.”

why are you still talking?!

you clear your throat as you look for the nearest exit gate

“oh!” jungkook blinks before turning back around to face you, “in that case-“ your eyes widen in surprise when he sticks his hand out for you to take, “shall we?”

you blink down at his outstretched hand cluelessly before suddenly realizing what it is he’s asking

“oh, i-” you snort, immediately shaking your head, “no, you don’t have to do that…”

“what do you mean?” jungkook frowns, tilting his head curiously, “you don’t want to skate with me? after all we’ve been through?? y/n, you’re breaking my heart here!” he jokes, clutching at his chest before pouting (quite cutely) at you 

“n-no!” you laugh lightly, shaking your head, “i mean, of course i’d love to skate with- i-it’s very nice of you to offer, and i know you’re obviously being paid and stuff but you don’t… ah, you don’t have to force yourself to skate with me if you don’t want to...” you mutter, reaching up to scratch the back of your neck, “like, i’m sure taehyung’s already planning to give you an extra big tip for basically babysitting me all night so you don’t have to force yourself to do anything extra-”

“no, i wanna skate with you!” jungkook interrupts, skating over so that he’s standing next to you instead, “plus, it’ll be good practice, right?”

“well, i-” you don’t get a chance to respond before jungkook’s suddenly slipping an arm around your waist and holding onto one of your hands for extra support, “i don’t know, i suppose i’m just not used to gliding without holding both of your hands so i’m just worried i’m going to make both of us fall somehow which would be mortifying-”

“that’s alright, i can hold both your hands if you feel safer that way,” jungkook chuckles, his arm sliding away from your waist so he can swivel around and stand in front of you again, “after all, it’s better to be safe than to be sorry!” he takes your hands gently as he starts to skate backwards, his thumbs rubbing the tops of your knuckles comfortingly

-‘cause we’re living in a world of fools... breaking us down... when they all should let us be... we belong to you and me...

how deep is your love continues to echo all around you and even though you feel a little awkward skating around with your instructor to a very romantic song, you have to admit that this was a great choice of song for valentine’s day 

it’s a timeless classic! 

“so, you, um…” jungkook clears his throat after a minute or two of comfortable silence, turning back for a second to glance over his shoulder and make sure he’s not about to crash into anyone, “what kind of things do you like doing?”

and it’s me you need to show... how deep is your love?

“rollerskating. is it not obvious?” you joke, looking up at him and reminding yourself that you should make more of an effort to look at him and noT constantly at the ground, “um, i don’t know! that’s kind of a broad question, i guess. i like... i like... i like painting-! i mean, i’m not good at it, but it’s a pretty relaxing hobby...” 

“painting is nice!” jungkook nods slowly in agreement before perking up slightly, “say, have you ever been to a pottery studio?” 

“you know, i actually haven’t!” you shake your head before staring past jungkook’s shoulder in thought, “i should go to one... it sounds like a lot of fun! do you...” you cough quietly and avert your gaze slightly, “do you go there often with your... uh, significant other?” 

“me? oh, i’m not in a relationship.” jungkook chuckles before giving you a shrug, “none of my co-workers wanted to take the valentine’s day shift because they actually have someone to spend valentine’s day with, so... that’s why i’m here!”

“oh! so, you’re…” you trail off before pressing your lips together and giving him a firm nod, “i see.”

so you’re both single?

interesting

very interesting 

you can’t help but wonder if he’s looking to change that  

“i-”

“incoming!”

you don’t even get a chance to turn around to see what’s going on when suddenly someone’s basHING into you from behind and making you lose your balance

and the next thing you know you’re stumbling forwards and poor jungkook’s reflexes aren’t fast enough because-

“oh-!” you land on top of jungkook with your legs on either side of him, your knee pads clacking loudly against the ground, “oh, shit-” 

“sorry! my bad!” taehyung glides past you with a sheepish smile before not-so-subtly gesturing to the girl he’s got on his arm and giving you an obnoxious wink and a thumbs up as a way to let you know he’s definitely getting boned tonight

you want nothing more than to rip your skates off right now so you can chase after him and bash his head in 

you turn to look down at jungkook, immediately raising your hands up off his (broad, broad) chest as your entire face flushes bright red, “i am- i am so sorry- are you okay?? is your head okay?? i can- i can give you my helmet!” you wince, reaching up to unbuckle your helmet before hastily taking it off and tossing it aside

“don’t sweat it, i’m completely fine-” jungkook laughs lightly before shaking his head, propping himself up onto his elbows and blowing a curled strand of hair away from his eyes with a puff, “my head’s fine! luckily i didn’t hit it on the ground or anything like that, but my ass-”

“oh, god. i’m so sorry- here, i’ll-” you attempt to get up off the ground only for the wheels on your skates to roll out from under you and for your knee to smack against the ground again, jungkook grunting as you bounce on him a little harder than intended, “oh, jesus christ-”

great

there’s no way you’re going to be able to get up because of these stupid skates and now your very cute instructor is a hostage in between your thighs!

“this is so humiliating, i am... so, so sorry- i’m definitely forcing taehyung to give you a generous tip after all of this is over-” you laugh uncomfortably, your hands about to place themselves on jungkook’s chest again before you quickly move them so that they’re on either side of his head instead

of course, this position isn’t any better because now you’re just staring down at his face directly 

little white hearts from the disco ball float over his face and though you know this is hardly the right time, your heart can’t help but go badumpbadump at the reminder of how pretty jungkook is 

“okay, wait, what if i-” he suddenly sits straight up and your eyes immediately cross at the close proximity of your faces, “hi.”

you don’t know if it’s even possible but you feel your face get even redder and you find that you’re unable to look away from jungkook 

he has very sweet-looking eyes 

they’re a very nice shade of brown 

“i- uh, hello.” you clear your throat quietly, pressing your hands as close to your own chest as possible so that you’re not touching jungkook, “hi.” 

the last thing you want is for him to accuse you of groping him

but maybe it’d be a good thing to get a lifetime ban from the rollerskating rink

then taehyung will never be able to force you to skate again!

“we should take your skates off so that we’re not stuck like this all night.” you twitch when you feel jungkook’s hand slide down the side of your calf before reaching the top of your skates, “do you think you can undo your other one for me?”

“ah- yes. yes, i can do that.” you turn away so you can look back at your skate, reaching down and ripping the velcro strap before hurrying to undo the laces

you feel jungkook fumble at your skate, yanking the tie loose before trying to help you wiggle your foot out of it, “okay, just pull your foot out-”

“yeah, lemme just-” you have to shuffle forwards in order for jungkook to pull the skate off of you and your nose crinkles when you realize you’ve just gone ahead and fully pressed your chest to jungkook’s 

wonderful

just wonderful 

(for the record, he smells really good... but you’re pretty sure you sound like a creep right now, so maybe you should go ahead and scrap that thought.) 

“what happened to not letting me fall?” you joke lightly as you get up off the ground, hoping to ease the tension a little from whatever all of that was, “are you sure you’re okay? i didn’t break anything?” 

“i promise you i’m totally fine-” jungkook gets back up onto his feet and bends down to pick up your skates before popping up to look at you with a grin, “and it only happened because i was distracted!” he pauses for a brief moment before tilting his head, his smile softening, “can you blame me? you’re very pretty.”

oh

you weren’t expecting him to say that

“oh, that’s- ha… that’s very nice of you.” you reach up to scratch the back of your neck before letting out a nervous chuckle, “you are… also… quite… visually appealing.”

quite visually appealing  

why are you speaking like an alien trying to convince everyone that they aren’t an alien?!

“so, there’s still about half an hour left of your lesson left, but i feel like you’ve had enough of skating for now.” jungkook changes the subject quickly and you can’t help but notice that his ears are starting to get red, “we can just sit on the bench and rest... or do you... uh, do you maybe want to share a chilli dog with me?” he asks quietly, and for the first time since meeting him he’s the one who looks away from you first 

“...you know, i think that might be the most romantic thing anyone’s ever said to me.” you giggle, reaching over to loop your arm through his when he sticks it out for you, “i would love to share a chilli dog with you.” 

“not to flex or anything, but i do get the employee discount…” jungkook clicks his tongue, reaching up to pop open his collar obnoxiously before turning to give you a wide grin, “and if that doesn’t impress you, i don’t know what will.”

🎙️help me help you make your wishes come true (send me a request!)

✨why don’t you explore the rest of the library while you’re here?

💫or perhaps you want something shorter to read?

🌟or something even shorter?

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Forgive, But First Fun - Nandor x f(vampire) reader

Summary: After getting left behind to fight off a pack of werewolves on your own, now mad at Nandor, you and Nadja have decided a little night out couldn’t hurt.

Warning: slight angst, fluff, fun times, and a tiny smut mention

Masterlist

Trudging angrily through the manors wooden doors, face stern and almost scary enough to put the fear of God into anyone. Your boots stomp into the large opening and onto the wooden floor boards as Gullimero, Nandor, and the documentary crew follow you in.

Your cloak is ripped and dirty as it lays in a pathetic black heap of cloth in Gullimero’s arms, your hair not looking any better, not to mention your face and arms that have various cuts paired with grass smudge marks adoring your skin. All in all you look like a hot mess.

“What the fuck happened to you lot? You’ve been gone all night.” Questions Laszlo as he walks into view from out of one of the hallways, his eyes scanning over a perfectly clean and handsome Nandor, then over to the dirty crew and disheveled Guillermo who’s got some leaves stuck to his hair.

“I don’t know.” You snap sarcastically, “How about you ask Mr. Dodgy-shit-stick over there.” Referring to Nandor who’s looking anywhere but you, keeping as silent as ever.

Gullimero looks between you and Nandor, then back at a confused Laszlo. “Oh, um they’re not speaking to each other right now.”

“And why the fuck not?”

Guillermo sighs before leaning towards Laszlo, “Nandor wanted to graffiti where the werewolves live and Y/N said he’d get caught and then Nandor said no I won’t and then he did.”

Laszlo raises a curious brow, “That’s it?”

“Oh, um....” Guillermo awkwardly scratches the back of his neck, suddenly pulling off a green leaf, “then they chased us to the park and when the pack closed in on us Nandor turned into a bat and left us behind so Y/N had to fight one of them off so we could escape and now we’re here.”

“Well that sounds rather exciting.”

“Not at the time.” Whispers Guillermo to no one in particular as he glances over at the camera.

“Huh,” Mutters Laszlo thoughtfully, scratching his beard as he thinks of how to help this situation, “well if you two dingbats aren’t talking to one another I believe Nadja needs you Y/N. Something about....well actually I’m not entirely sure.”

Perking up ever so slightly at this positive news, you cross your arms over your chest defiantly, “Well since someone does, I’ll be going then.” You grumble with a low growl at your Nandor who’s refusing to make eye contact while he stares frustrated at the floor.

Nodding in acknowledgment, Laszlo watches you stomp angrily up the steps before turning his head over to Nandor who’s now watching you leave with big sad eyes.

“Alright why’d you do it?” Interrogates Laszlo with a raised brow.

“Do whaaat?” Replies Nandor defensively, his once high and mighty aurora reappearing in an instant.

Rolling his eyes, Laszlo sets a hand on his hip sassily, “Well I sure as hell don’t want an angry Y/N wandering around this old place for the next however the fuck it takes you both to make up....in however fashion that may be. So I ask again, why’d you puss out and flee like a mangy opossum?”

Pursing his lips together in apprehensive embarrassment, Nandor mutters to himself before finally crossing his arms over his broad chest and sighing, “Because......I....I don’t know I panicked!” Exclaims the large vampire, causing Laszlo to start laughing. “Why are you laughing?”

Wiping a fake tear from his eye, Laszlo lets out a few more chuckles before finally composing himself, “My good man that is the second saddest thing I’ve ever heard. The first being when one of my many victims offered me one of their rare and exclusive Poki-muns card which I still have no idea what the fuck they were on about. Anyways, doesn’t matter, all I’ll tell is that you better make it up to her.”

“But she’s scary when she’s angryyy.” Whines Nandor with a frown.

“That’s all women my young pup, but since your lovely lady is a vampire she’s more dangerous.” He says while giving Nandor a kind pat on the back, “So uh, stay safe out there.” Adds Laszlo before turning and walking down the hallway leaving Nandor with his thoughts, Gullimero, and the documentary’s camera crew.

“What are you all looking at!” Snaps Nandor to the rest of the room.

——

“Oh my goodnessess that’s awful, my poor dark angel.” Soothes Nadja as you take a moment from your long and needed rant about the adventures in the park and Nandor’s cowardly stupidity. “That big hairy rhino doesn’t deserve you Y/N.” She reasons honestly, doing her best to make you feel better, knowing all to well the level of competent decision making skills of the other two vampires in the house.

“I know.” You mutter in agreement, your body tense and agitated as you pace back and forth in front of her as she sits in a chair, “Fucking beautiful idiot prick horse-fart of a husband. Urgghhh!” You proclaim loudly while throwing your hands into the air angrily, causing the furniture in the room to screech backwards across the old flooring at your outburst of vampiric energy. Nadja’s long obsidian hair blowing backwards as you do so while she keeps seated, unflinching.

Face softening, she gives you a sympathetic smile, “Oh my lovely fierce lioness, I know exactly what will make that sad little frown turn into a happy one.” Beams Nadja with an excited clap of her hands.

Hugging your sides, you let out a frustrated huff before giving your old friend a shrug, “What do you have in mind?”

——

“So we’re at the carnival!” Claps Nadja in delight as she smiles at the camera, “This will hopefully relieve Y/N’s pent up angers and keep her mind off of Nandor.....for now.” She adds a bit uncertainly.

“HA HA take that fuckers!” You shout joyfully from behind her, the camera panning over to you at the ball toss where you’ve been knocking down plastic bottles with a rubber ball. The stall owner cowering in the corner as he shields himself with a stuffed zebra.

The camera focuses back on Nadja, “I think it’s going really well so far.” She confirms with a convincing grin. “Relieving all that..uh....rage.” 

After winning a stuffed snake taller then you and deciding to wear it as a strange fashionable scarf, you and Nadja are wandering the carnivals streets while people watching to pass the time.

“So that’s why I never walk on the roof after 3am when I’ve had homeless man’s blood.” Rambles Nadja as your thoughts about Nandor come trickling down into your brain and nose. Huh, strange, must be cause you’re still wearing a thin red scarf of his.

No, stop thinking about him.

“Good lesson learned then,” You add with the flash of a smile before nudging her shoulder gently, “hey you wanna watch me win you something cool?”

Perking up in an instant, Nadja smiles a devilish fangy grin as she stops to eye up the multiple game stalls, “Why I would be delighted my dear Y/N, how about....um, oooh I want that giant tropical fishy with the long whiskers over there.” Points Nadja as your eyes travel over to the game stall with the large prizes.

It’s a game that requires the individual to shoot an arrow directly on three different sized bullseye’s stationed at various heights. Smiling like an idiot, you nudge your vampiric acquaintance in agreement, the both of you quickly swaggering over to the carnival game and it’s plush flashy prizes just screaming to be won.

“Hello good sir, my skilled roommate Y/N here is going to win me that fish.” Beams Nadja proudly as the teenager jumps off his chair to greet the two of you.

He smells like weed but surprisingly looks decent all things considered, “Uh yeah alright, two bucks for three arrows, hit every target directly on the middle red mark and if you make it on the bonus poster on the far back wall then you’ll have a chance to win that fish, good luck.” Mumbles the kid unenthusiastically as you slide him the cash.

Picking up the shitty yet still functional carnival bow, you give Nadja a wink before fitting an arrow in the nock and pulling back, lining up the shot and releasing directly into the first target to the left. Smirking to yourself you quickly draw again, hitting your second mark just as intended. Pays to be a skilled archer huh.

“Damn that’s pretty good aim.” Nods the teen as he watches in awe as you fit another arrow, releasing and punching a hole in the middle of the third target.

Nadja claps in excitement from behind you, “Yes! Win me that colorful fat bitch my feisty lioness!”

Standing like a warrior ready for battle with your bow in hand and wind blowing in your face, the kid almost drops the arrow he hands you for the winning shot as he practically swoons.

“Get those scissors ready, that fish is mine.” You growl in determination while picturing Nandor’s head as the final target, drawing back, you let the arrow fly straight into the bonus target. Winning Nadja her giant fish plushy.

“Yessss!” Shouts Nadja in delight as you drop the bow onto the table like a bad bitch before eyeing up the kid with a raised brow, “We’ll be taking the fish now.”

Wide eyed he almost falls off his chair, “Wait um, that’s the last one...I didn’t think, uh, my boss doesn’t want me to give away those ones.” He stutters out.

“What!” Snaps Nadja, “Then why are they just hanging there? You lied to us you little shit!”

“I’m sorry.” He pleads apologetically, “That’s what my boss told me. And no one ever wins the big prizes anyway so I didn’t think...”

“Well your boss he can eat a big horse turd cause I’m taking that fish.” You growl before jumping up and unhooking the fish from its perch above your heads, handing it to a practically glowing with joy Nadja who immediately hugs the thing.

Sticking your tongue out at the teen, you and Nadja turn to leave before a boney hand is suddenly on your shoulder, twisting around in an agitated instant, your face is mere inches from the wide eyed boy as he attempts to look even a tad bit threatening.

“No.” Is the only thing that slips from your tongue before your hand shoves him back, his whole body going air bound into the back of the carnival tent while the kid lets out a panicked scream.

“Ooooh Y/N that was very sexy of you.” Smirks Nadja while wiggling her dark brows, “Too bad a certain cowardly lion wasn’t here to see it.”

Petting the stuffed toy snake around your neck absentmindedly, you smile back a fangy grin, “Yes. Too bad.”

Continuing on your late night stroll through the carnival you both pass by random strangers, families, elders, children, and lovers all minding their sweet business completely unawares to the dark supernatural world walking right past them.

Although you’re quite enjoying this time spent with your best friend in the whole wide world, a low dull feeling of emptiness can’t help but creep into your undead being the more you catch sight of new and old couples walking together.

Sensing your growing sadness, Nadja nudges your shoulder playfully to gain your distracted attention, “Hello in there my black rose, what is on your mind?”

Holding the snake close to your body, a small smile creeps its way onto your face knowing she’s looking out for you, though it’s gone soon enough, “Oh you know....uh....blood.” You mutter unenthusiastically, trying to keep your thoughts away from Nandor and how much you miss him right now.

“Blood is it? But we just fed before attending the carnival.” Inquires Nadja in confusion as she keeps a normal pace at your side while the two of you follow the sidewalk past various shops and restaurants. “What is actually plaguing your mind my dear one?” She wonders with a frown, not keen on seeing you upset and in a grey mood.

Biting your lip anxiously, though not hard enough to draw blood, you walk past a couple more people before your eyes catch the sight of a small black bat disappearing behind a corner building just up ahead.

Squinting your eyes, your nose suddenly catches the scent of someone very familiar, “Nandor?”

Turning her head to face you, Nadja’s brows furrow in puzzlement, “What? No my sweet hurricane, forget that mangy old bear he’s not important right now.” Urges Nadja as she looks forward, suddenly surprised to catch a glimpse of someone who looks a lot like Guillermo racing behind the same corner you saw the bat fly behind. “Okay um what the fuck? Did you see that too?”

Glancing at Nadja you nod before quickening your steps as she does the same, her skirts flowing as she tries to catch up with you, though you’re much faster and with lack of annoying dress material, “Wait! You’re too fast.” Yelps Nadja.

Ignoring her protests you book it down the sidewalk like a maniac, almost running into a jogger before skidding round the corner of the brick building and coming face to face with a wide eyed Guillermo who gasps in surprise. Nudging him to the side, your eyes immediately fall upon the nervous fangy grin of your Nandor.

He gives you a shy little wave before shuffling awkwardly in place, awaiting your rampage of verbal and possibly physical assault that he’s certain is in the near future.

Taking a deep breath, you cross your arms over your chest defensively, “Were you following me?”

“Um, well.....I might have been....but only to make sure you were okay.” Mutters Nandor honestly, eyes shifting from you to the ground nervously as he awaits your wrath.

Pursing your lips together in thought, you shake your head before taking off the stuffed toy snake and holding it firmly in your hands. With a low growl do you grasp the snake in your right hand and hold it back like you might swing at any moment.

“You’re a fucking nincompoop you know that right?” Slips from your mouth without an once of anger lacing your words, instead do you hand the snake to Gullimero as Nandor watches in puzzled fear.

Taking a swift step forward, you point a finger into his strong chest while looking sternly up at him, “Racing off and leaving me too fight that angry bitch all by myself, and now following me when I needed a break from you! Nandor....... you’re something else.” You add with a shake of your head.

“Yes I know, and I’m sorry my love.” Smiles Nandor with saddened eyes, “I promise to keep you save from now on and fight off any werewolf who tries to hurt you....even if I am scared.”

Taking a step back, you can’t help the smirk that forms onto your face at his sweet words of forgiveness and sincerity. You know how much he fears werewolves and that he fled the scene thinking you were planning on following too, not realizing that you might actually give a shit about Gullimero’s and the crew’s lives.

“Oh my dear puff dragon,” You declare softly with a small smile, reaching both hands out to grasp his own, “I forgive you.”

Nandor’s face breaks out into the biggest and happiest grin you’ve seen since his last birthday when he walked into your shared crypt only to find you naked and holding a bushel of red roses while seated seductively on his coffin.

“Oh that’s fantastic because I was really missing you.” Reveals Nandor with a gentle squeeze of your hands. “Laszlo and Guillermo can’t make me laugh nearly as much as you can, they’re honestly rather boring.” He says before leaning in closer to whisper, “and not very attractive to look at either.” Causing you to crack another grin and your undead heart to fill with butterflies. 

Chuckling you reach up with one hand to pull his collar closer to you and a second later do your lips clash sweetly against one another in a heated moment of passion. He smiles into the kiss before moving to pull you in closer with both of his hands, one slipping low to cheekily pinch your round bottom.

Feeling him against you once again has to be the best sensation in the whole entirety of the world even if you’ve only been separated for a couple of hours. You absolutely love the way his fingers dig into your back and bum with an animalistic eagerness that’s slowly starting to drive you insane. Oh, the things he does to you.

Especially how his tongue slips into your mouth with ease while you tug at his hair long dark locks. “Y/N!” Suddenly shouts Nadja.

“Nandor!”

Begrudgingly pulling away, you turn around to face the confused lady vampire while Nandor hugs you from behind, happily smirking at her, knowing she can’t do anything to hurt him now. “Yes Nadja.” You answer.

With the fish plushy hung over her shoulder, her brows furrow in confusion, “What the fuck are you doing? I thought you were mad at him?”

“Yeah well, I was starting to really miss him and also I’m kind of horny now so.” You reply with a shrug as Nandor hugs you tighter, resting his bearded chin against your head while Nadja huffs in defeat.

“Alright. See you at home then.” Adds Nadja before turning towards Guillermo and shoving the giant carnival fish into his arms, “Hold this Gizmo I’m going home.” Then just like that she’s gone in a black wispy poof, flying away in bat form towards the vampire resistance on Staten Island.

“Okay then.” Mutters Gullimero as he looks up at the dark sky.

Feeling a wet kiss on the side of your face and neck you smile before turning around to face your dear husband, “Shall we take flight to seek out our bed chambers?” You speak slyly in a soft yet seductive voice.

“Yes.” Grins Nandor with a flash of lust and excitement before turning his attention over to Guillermo, “Hey Guillermo I’m leaving to make passionate love to my wife so don’t bother us or I will have a rat shit in your pillowcase. Okay?”

You giggle to yourself as Gullimero’s cheeks redden while he side eyes the camera, “Understood master. Have fun.” Squeaks out the loyal familiar as he stands there awkwardly with his hands full of two carnival prizes.

Nandor sneakily squeezes your bottom once more as he gives Gullimero a knowing smirk, “Oh, we will.” Then a second later you two are flying high above the city in bat form, ready to make love to your sweet Nandor for probably the twentieth time that week.

Down below the camera pans over to Gullimero as he blinks, “Well uh, I have these things now..” He says, holding up the fish, “and I am so not looking forward to cleaning up their mess.......again.”

[mxchellesworld]

Gloria

Spencer Reid x Latina!Reader

request; Spencer and a reader who is bilingual

synopsis; Spencer turns 30 and spends the day with his favorite people

warnings; just fluff

*I added translations for a few things at the end

a/n; fuck accent marks, all my homies hate accent marks>:( lol but really, i did this in spanish since i speak it and thought it would be cute - i am very happy i got this request! as always enjoy

***

Spencer was proud of his multi linguistic skills, he had worked hard to be able to communicate with others in different languages. However when he wasn’t using his skills in a case or for research, his language skills were put to great use in watching his Russian films and trying to impress you.

While yes you had been together and married for nearing 6 years, it was always his main goal. Even when you first started to get to know one another and he met your parents he whipped out formal spanish greeting, with Elle’s help of course, which immediately had your mother swooning. Papa took some getting used to but now Spencer was his son at heart.

When you found out you were pregnant with your little girl he made sure to get books in spanish as well. According to him the novelas you watched weren’t gonna do much to help but give her more of your sass.

But when she came into the world he was more than overjoyed hearing your cooing over her. The way her big brown eyes lit up hearing your voice in the mornings.

“Donde esta mi princessa hermosa,” you said switching off the sound machine in the nursery. Instantly you were met with the sound of tiny giggles immersing from the swaddle of yellow fluffy blankets in her crib.

Another thing Spencer told you was that talking to babies was key in helping develop their speaking and understanding skills. Of course there was a percentage to accompany the fact but you got the just of it.

“Vamos a despertar a papa,” you said lifting her up and running your fingers through the steady growing curls on the top of her head.

She instantly perked up at the mention of her dad. Gummy smile spread across her chubby cheeks.

“Es su cumpleaños hoy. Creo que tu eres el mejor regalo que le pudia ver dado,” you finished by rubbing your nose onto hers. She shrieked in laughter, her tiny hands grabbing onto your hair.

After giving her diaper a quick change and dressing her up in her favorite onesie which read ‘daddy’s genius’, of course gifted by the best god mother Penelope Garcia, you walked over to your bedroom.

She clung onto your earrings as you patted down the hall trying to make minimal noise and wake up Spencer. You opened the door to see him still sound asleep having come back from a case late at night.

He was laying on his back, head tilted to the side with one hand under the pillow and the other on his stomach. You watched the rise and fall of his steady breathe in the Halloween t-shirt he slept in.

You smiled at the hitch in Gloria’s breath seeing her daddy first thing in the morning. The way she wiggled her body in your arms just dying to see her favorite person.

You straddled his waist trying to keep your weight on your knees to not wake him up. You then placed Gloria on his chest and let her go to town. Her sloppy kisses on his cheeks woke him from his slumber.

He slowly opened his eyes and let the smile spread across his face, “Oh wow what a way to wake up,” he let out a giggle.

Spencer sat up and held her close to his face, peppering kisses all over her rosy cheeks.

“We wanted to give the best father in the world an early birthday gift. Huh G,” you said calling for the little girl.

She babbled away in agreement making both you and Spencer share a laugh. You got off from his lap and snuggled into his arms.

“Well gracias Gloria,” he said bopping her nose, “I appreciate the wake up.”

You pressed a kiss to his cheek and watched as the two interacted before getting up to make breakfast.

You left them in bed and went to the kitchen whipping up some pancakes and a bottle for Gloria. When things were finishing up you heard Spencer’s steps coming down the hall.

He sat her in the high chair next to the table and wrapped his arms around your waist as you plated the food.

“Thank you for the best birthday gift I could ever ask for. I love you so much Y/n, you guys make me the happiest man on earth.”

You turned and met him with a sweet kiss, “Love you so much more mi amore. You deserve every bit of happiness Spence.”

Your moment was brought to an end by tiny hands banging on the plastic tray of her high chair. You both shared a look of understanding before you sat in the chair next to Gloria’s.

Spencer sat across from you while the three of you shared breakfast together. Gloria’s attitude was quickly changed by the cut up pieces of pancake you let her munch on.

By the time you had finished breakfast she was ready to be bathed and have some playtime before her midday nap if she was to endure the fabulous party hosted by none other than Papa Rossi.

“I’ll clean up here, you give her a bath and get her ready,” you said taking Spencer’s plate.

“You cooked I can clean this up no problem,” he tried to argue.

“No no you guys have your daddy daughter time. Then you can read her a story before her nap,” you said nodding.

He smiled at you then picked her out of the high chair and leaned down to press a kiss to your cheek. You could hear him cooing and talking to her as they made their way down the hall.

_

By 2pm you were getting ready to head to Dave’s house or Uncle Dave as he’s been more recently known. He agreed to host Spencer a little birthday party which consisted of the team and their kids.

After getting gloria dressed she was still fast asleep in her car seat and the ride to Dave’s was smooth with small talk and quiet music on the radio.

Spencer drove with his hand interlocked with yours in the middle, randomly pressing kisses to it during red lights.

“Mama y Papa called to wish you a happy birthday. It was when you were bathing G but they told me to relay the message,” you said playing with the scarf around his neck.

You could see the small blush creep on his face. Any mention of your parents thinking and caring for him hit really hard within him. They knew of his past and did their best to have him know he was truly a part of your family.

“I’ll make sure to call them tomorrow and say thank you. Maybe we can visit them soon, I know they miss Gloria and I really miss your mom’s cooking,” he said with a smile.

Arriving at David’s you were met with the door being ripped open by all the kids of the BAU. The boys were more than happy to wish their Uncle Spence a happy birthday and greet their little girl.

Since she was the only girl of the bunch they had sworn to protect her the best they could. Even if it wasn’t much now, when she got older they would definitely be her playground body guards.

Penelope and Derek then let you guys in and attacked you both in the biggest hugs imaginable.

“Oh hot mama I’ve missed you so much,” Garcia said swaying you back and forth.

“I’ve missed you more Garcia. We should round the girls up and get brunch sometime,” you said with a quirk in your lip.

She instantly lit up and grabbed your hand to take you to the rest of the BAU ladies. You looked back to see Spencer and Morgan laughing as they cooed over Gloria who was now waking up for her godfather.

The rest of the night went down smoothly with Gloria being passed around like a hot potato. Though she never minded, loving the attention from all her aunts and uncles.She was quite the stunner. Even getting Hotch to break character and indulge her in a wholesome game of pickaboo. 

A few games were played and stories were told but it was time to cut the cake before it reached anyone’s bedtime. 

You sat around Rossi’s yard, the candles reading 30 glowed under the October sky. You all sang and held smiles on your face as Spencer blew out his candles. Gloria bouncing on his lap happily around all the commotion. 

While he’d never admit it, you knew he actually didn’t wish for anything. Everything he could ask for was surrounding him at that very moment and he was more than content with the love of his favorite people.

translations

“Donde esta mi princessa hermosa,” - “Where is my pretty princess”

“Vamos a despertar a papa,” - “Lets go wake up dad”

“Es su cumpleaños hoy. Creo que tu eres el mejor regalo que le pudia ver dado,” - “It’s his birthday today. I think you are the best gift I could have ever given him”

[revenant-dumpster-fire]

Flower (Revenant x Reader)

[For AO3 archive, click here.]

Theme: Loneliness and depression are a painful but wicked combination after you have to talk about your past when you don’t want to. No matter how optimistic your friends might be, it doesn’t really fix anything.

Warnings: Graphic content, references to sex, references to past assault, references to noncon, male dominance, threats of violence, descriptions of violence, sharp objects, pain, post-traumatic stress disorder, bipolar, depression, mania, fluff.

Reader's Notes: Revenant (Apex Legends) x Reader, reader is female.

Writing Notes: What the fuck is a plot?

Navigation:

First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

------------

You wake up to the sun fully over the skylight window, shining brightly into your eyes. You groan as you realize what time it must be. Closing your eyes only reminds you how thin your eyelids are, as the only color you see is a fleshy red rather than the lovely darkness you wish you could experience. You pull your arm over your eyes and experience the darkness again, if only for a few precious moments.

As you come to, you remember what you did last night and feel a weird sense of concern overcome you. That wasn't a dream, was it? You are lying here without clothes on, after all, and you don't exactly feel clean either. It definitely happened. You panic a little and jolt up in bed, holding the blanket to cover you as you scan the room. You're alone, and there's no sign of where Revenant could be.

You review the events of yesterday to yourself. You remember Revenant taking apart his old chassis and saving some of the parts from it. You remember teasing him until he tied you to a chair using his scarf, although you remember kinda deserving that. You snicker to yourself, remembering how he called you a "bully" to Sherry. Yes, you definitely bullied the giant, metal simulacrum built to kill. You remember Revenant left you pizza that was good enough that a blatant murder couldn't distract people from it, and then you remember chasing it down with too much vodka. You remember Revenant covered in blood at some point after that, then Pathfinder showing up, then falling asleep alone...? That last bit doesn't make much sense, but there was probably a decent reason for all those things happening together. Then you remember waking up in the middle of the night and definitely remember Revenant gently loving on you to the fullest extent.

You've never actually thought you'd be open to sex at all. Especially considering all you've been through, it's amazing you trusted Revenant enough to let him do that to you. You take a deep breath to yourself. It's too easy to be anxious about experiences like this, especially when they tread such a close line to your past traumas. In reality, you don't regret anything, you've just surprised yourself. The main concern now is why would Revenant run off immediately after a night like that?

Maybe you'll feel better after a shower and cleaning stuff up a bit. After all, you've learned that dwelling on discomfort only leads to more confusion and generally a breakdown. That's the last thing you need right now. No need to ruin something that should be a positive experience with an anxiety-riddled spiral into depression. Imagine losing your mind all because Revenant had some errand to run today. That would be silly.

You get out of bed and scurry to the bathroom, finding some used towels hanging to dry. You're not sure if they're the ones you used or the ones he used, but it doesn't really matter. He's made of metals, plastics, silicones, and PVCs. It's not like his towels are going to have anything gross on them. You grab the closest one and quickly change your mind when you notice the red streaks across it. That's blood, and it's not like it could possibly be his. You throw it to the corner of the tile floor to remind yourself to wash it later. The other towel must have been yours, because there's no blood on it and it's considerably drier than the other.

You turn the shower knobs and wait patiently for the water to warm up, taking a moment to brush your teeth while you wait. Ever since he went on a long tangent about shaving, you can't help but eye his razor case when you see it. You wouldn't dare touch it since you know how much it means to him, but you'd like to see it at some point. The steam starts to fog up the mirror, so you quickly finish with your teeth and jump in the shower. You rapidly clean yourself with as much soap as you can manage to lather into your hair and skin.

You nab the clean towel and dry yourself off, spending an excessive amount of time trying to dry your hair as much as possible. You made the right call, a hot shower helps a lot with anxiety. You leave the bathroom and rummage through your bag for the most comfortable pair of shorts and shirt you own. You notice you're a bit shaky and sore from the night before, but it's nothing you can't handle. As soon as you're dressed and your hair is brushed enough to be detangled, you consider yourself put together enough. Nothing wrong with a lax day for laundry and lounging about.

You grab the towels from the bathroom; the sheets, blanket, and pillowcases off the bed; your clothes you found in the corner of the room; a bloody old towel from the kitchenette; and a small pile of your dirty clothing from the past couple days and wrap them together in the comforter, dragging the giant makeshift bag of dirty laundry down the quiet hall into the laundry room. It seems like the trios match was as violent throughout as the ending was--there is not a soul in the hallway, meaning the infirmary must still be quite full. The only Legends you know are back from the match are the winners--Revenant, Wattson, and Wraith--as well as Pathfinder. That makes sense, after all Pathfinder just needs some repairs to be good as new since he's a MRVN, which can be performed hours after any match.

The laundry room has only one dryer running, echoing a mundane hum in the large room with the uncanny beat of the contents turning over repeatedly. You find a few washing machines in the far corner of the room and start separating the delicate items from the colors from the bleach-worthy whites. Thankfully, all the blood-soaked towels were once white, so they get a washing machine all their own along with the sheets. You pull the detergents and bleach out of the cabinet and start over-soaping all the loads, setting the timers to start each machine as they fill with hot water. Steam starts pouring into the room: commercial-quality washing machines are able to use tons of near-boiling water to sanitize anything inside of them. The room's vent fans kick in to try to keep the room's humidity low, but the fans will definitely struggle to keep up.

The door to the laundry room opens and Sherry shuffles in, bags under her eyes and likely hungover from a night of celebrating Wattson's victory. She's too foggy to notice you, so you shuffle over to her.

"Hey, Sherry! Drink too much last night?" You chime, Sherry weakly holding her head.

"Ugh, yes. And that stupid pizza didn't help. It was so perfectly greasy that I couldn't feel how drunk I was getting." She moans, making her way over to the only running dryer.

"So, this is all Revenant's fault then?"

"Absolutely, you and your stupid metal man always conspire to make me worry or drink myself into a stupor because of good pizza." She manages to put just a little sarcastic tone to her voice, but is clearly struggling through her headache. "So, why aren't you hungover? After what I saw yesterday, I was sure you'd bully Revenant into a drinking contest until he tied you to the ceiling vent."

You chuckle, it sounds almost too wild to be accurate, but you've learned that testing Revenant's limits always leads to the unexpected. Sherry continues, a sudden glint showing in her eye.

"So, since you didn't drink to celebrate, then you obviously must have--" 

"Sherry--!" You try to shout over her, knowing exactly where she's going with this.

A devilish look creeps across Sherry's face, almost wiping out her hungover grimace. She dashes away from you and towards the running washing machines, leaving you stunned just long enough that you can never hope to catch her. She throws the lids open of all three, pouring steam into the room and all over her face, but she doesn't wince at all. The hot steam almost seems to invigorate her more.

"Sheets! I fucking knew it!" She laughs maniacally, her face red and moist from shoving her face in the billowing plume of vapor. She slams the lids shut, letting them clang loudly as the agitators begin to whir back to life after being interrupted. "You did it! You finally did it!" She scurries back to you with the energy and erratic movements of a cockroach, finally reaching you to shove her finger against the tip of your nose. Her wicked grin is now in full form, only enhanced by the deep purple hues under her eyes.

"Sherry, it's not that big of a--" You start, trying to be honest but not let her go where she's definitely going.

"Ohohoho, yes it is! This is proof that you can move past your assault! It's huge! It means you're working past your traumas!" Her excitement makes her sound much louder than she actually is. "And it makes me feel so much better about this whole fling you're having, since Revenant was understanding of it all." She twirls away with her arms outstretched, as if to praise some unseen angels.

"Sherry, he doesn't know." You mumble half-heartedly, hoping she might ignore you. She whips her head back in a fury, which must hurt with her hangover.

"You didn't tell him anything?!" Now she's loud. "What were you thinking?! I get that you don't need to tell just anyone, but don't you think you should have told him so he'd know to take it slow?!" She grabs you by your cheeks and pivots your head to meet her eyeline. "What if he did something that caused a breakdown?! He wouldn't have had any clue why, and he wouldn't have been able to help you!"

"Sherry, it's oka--"

"No it isn't! That's not fair to either of you! You can't just let someone go waltzing through a minefield because you're not sure how to tell them that you had some fucked up shit happen to you!" She pulls you into a massive hug, shoving your face into her chest per usual, since it naturally lands there due to your height difference.

"I'm sorry, I don't want to yell at you, but you seriously need to be careful." She softens, sighing as she realizes you're shivering a little. "Look, if you don't know how to tell him, I will do it for you."

"Thanks, but I think I have to do it." You sigh, recognizing she's right. "Honestly though, the only thing I remember is the rag and then waking up in the hospital." You pull away from her, ensuring she can hear you clearly.

"I know you may not think it's a big deal since you can't remember much, but what happened to you is absolutely traumatizing." Sherry wipes away a tear you didn't even feel escape your eyes. "Seriously, if you really like Revenant, you should tell him what you remember and what you know, even if it's hard." Now you feel the emotional hurt, and you hate this. Everything was fine, but now it isn't, and you're struggling to keep your composure.

"I wish I didn't have to. I don't like talking about it. I didn't even do anything wrong, I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Why do I have to confess it like it's some crime I committed? It's not fair!" Now you start to cry, and Sherry hugs you again, drying your tears with her shirt. She pets your head and hair, trying to comfort you in any way she can.

"Like I said, I'll do it if you need me to." She sighs while holding you tight. You don't intend to pull away until you've calmed yourself anyway. "I guess you don't really have to tell him, but I really think you should..." She trails off, trying to undo any harshness from before. You feel her face bury into your hair as she holds you closer.

You manage to pull yourself together, the despair slowly releasing its hold on you, even if the sense of doom does not. You have no idea how you're going to tell Revenant anything. How do you even start such a conversation? What if he thinks you should have told him before, like Sherry does? Will he feel betrayed? Or will he understand? The knot in your gut stiffens more.

Sherry holds you until you naturally pull away, rubbing your eyes and now looking worse than the hungover woman in front of you. Sherry looks at you with very concerned eyes that betray her wary smile, clearly trying to cheer your spirits despite her honest concerns.

"I'm sure it will be okay. After all, you managed to open up to him already in a way." Sherry sheepishly encourages you, placing her hand on your shoulder. She takes a deep breath, clearly feeling her aches again, but continues to try to bring you back from the brink of despair. "I bet you opened up real nice for him last night, didn't you?" Her teasing is missing its usual edge, but you can't help but appreciate her effort. You chuckle a little at how hard she tries.

"Didn't have to when he can do it for me." You banter back, taking pity on her weakened state.

"Your little rendezvous must have made quite the mess to have to wash the whole bed, huh?" You shouldn't have given her the inch, she fully plans to take a mile.

"Sherry, why must you do this to me?" You ask, rolling your eyes, turning away to help her with her laundry in the dryer. She could use the help, there's no way she feels well.

"Did he pull out? Is that why you needed to wash the whole bed?" She pauses as you actively try to ignore her, pulling her miscellaneous clothing from the dryer and placing it on top of the machine. Sherry doesn't quit. "Wait, if he's mechanical, can he even cu--"

"Sherry! That's gross!" You interrupt her.

"The pursuit of knowledge isn't gross!" Her energy is back now that she's found a foxhole she plans to dig into. "Anyways, you're the one who holds this forbidden knowledge! Now spill it!" She pauses, "Literally, if you must."

"For fuck's sake Sherry, why are you like this?!" You yell at her through a genuine laugh. No matter how gross that statement is, it is also really funny. You feel a little better, but the knot in your stomach remains.

She grabs a shirt out of the clumped up pile and folds it with zero care or grace. It might as well be a glorified knot. She puts it down and grabs for another, not caring at all to fold anything well. You help her fold, but actually do it correctly.

"So? Spill it!" She insists after making a few knotted clothes. You sigh, frustrated but unwilling to fight her.

"Yeah, I guess he had something in him. Probably the same slick stuff those synthetic refills are made of that you can get for prosthetics. Not that I could really tell anyway, it felt like any other liquid would in there." You mumble quietly.

"Heheheheh, gross." She giggles.

You throw the warm pair of pajama pants you're holding square in her face for that one.

• • • •

You're sitting on the bench in the laundry room, a pile of Sherry's properly folded clothes off to the side and Sherry herself snoring against your shoulder. She promised to stay with you while you wait for your laundry to finish, but you're not sure how helpful it is for her to snore in your ear and drool on your shoulder. She didn't manage to stay awake for long after she sat down with you, but this was inevitable with how hungover she is. Sometimes it really is best to sleep it off whenever possible, although you worry about her hydration. You'll wake her up if you really need to move, and then you'll get her a sports drink or something when you do.

At this point you've moved your laundry into a dryer. The commercial grade washing machines are insanely fast, but drying can only work so quickly. You might be here for a bit, whether you like it or not. Properly folding all of Sherry's clothes kept you occupied for a little while, but now all you have left to keep you company are your thoughts and the sounds of Sherry's snores.

You wonder to yourself why you're so worried over talking about your past with Revenant. You've been dismissive of it this whole time, but to be fair he has never pressed you on it either. You've told him you were homeless and used to date one of the other women in the shelter, but you didn't tell him that she eventually found a way out of poverty. You had to break up with her so she could move on. You didn't fully explain that your past relationship was so you could always stick together and watch out for each other. You definitely didn't tell him how you ended up homeless in the first place, and certainly not what happened to you after the breakup. In truth, you don't want to talk about it. You don't like being a victim of circumstance, modern societal failures, and a criminal underbelly that intentionally preys on people like you. Everyone who's unfortunate enough to be born into this cybernetic hellscape has a story or two that could curdle blood, and you're no different. Heck, you're sure Revenant has plenty too.

The fact of the matter is, you're alive and able to tell the tales of your past, which is better than the slew of victims, predators, and petty criminals alike that are missing or buried in shallow graves. It almost feels disrespectful to the slew of dead and abandoned individuals to complain since you've survived and gotten somewhere better. There's no way you can deny that you've won the jackpot by getting to work for the Apex Games, let alone getting hired and getting so close to one of the Legends themselves. Who are you to complain? You know that feeling shame for getting out of your situation isn't how you should feel--after all, everyone should have a right to talk about their past and experiences--but you can't shake the feeling of survivor's guilt that ebbs away at you.

You put your arm around Sherry and rub her opposite shoulder, but she doesn't wake up. She's really the reason you're out of the trenches of modern society at all. She secured you this job which gave you everything you could need, rent free. The tips from the Legends have let you save up money to escape when this opportunity falls through. Even moreso, Sherry didn't drop the offer for the job when you were hospitalized; in fact, she doubled down on making sure you got the position. You have no idea how much harder she had to work to get you here while you recovered for months, and you've always been afraid to ask. You almost don't want to know the debt you owe her, since you'd spend your whole life trying to pay her back. Sherry probably wouldn't want you to do that either; she's just so happy to have someone she can treat like a sister again.

The door to the laundry room opens again, snapping you out of you pondering.

"Skinsuit! There you are! I've been looking for you." Revenant swiftly makes his way over to you. He's holding a plastic bag, clearly with something inside. He towers over you, looking down at you and the drooling sloth latched to your side.

"Oh, sorry, I was just doing laundry." You mumble, caught in his bright, LED eyes.

"Skinsuit." He pauses, likely seeing your blank stare. You take a moment to come out of your adoring trance, shaking your head a little to clear your thoughts.

"Sorry, what's wrong?"

"We need to talk." The knot in your stomach falls deeper and yanks your gut down with it. Those are the worst words in the world, and the catastrophic thoughts in your head immediately start to wind up. Before you can even finish processing your thoughts, Revenant has picked Sherry up and off of you, laying her down on the bench. She doesn't even stir, she just snores louder now that she's lying flat. Revenant grabs your wrist and hoists you to your feet. "Come, now." His voice is so foreboding.

"Wait, the laundry isn't done yet." You pull back, resisting his grasp on you. You don't want to confront whatever he's upset about. It could be anything, and you just don't want to hear whatever words will inevitably hurt you.

Revenant doesn't release your wrist, but he grips it harder, forcing you forward and closer to him.

"I'm not asking." His eyes are terrifying points, the most intense look he can give, and he's staring straight at you. "Come. Now."

He doesn't give you time to even step forward before he starts dragging you. You trip over your feet as you try to regain your balance. He takes you out of the room and down the long hallways.

You panic. What the hell did you do? Does he regret last night? Did you accidentally hurt or insult him? What on earth does he want to talk to you about? Is he going to fire you and treat you like a nobody again? How could you possibly still work here if he cuts ties? You'll be traumatized every time you see him. What the hell did you do?

He drags you into his room. You could throw up you're so stressed. He drags you to the bare mattress and flings you down onto it. You try to fall into a sitting position, but fail and roll onto your back. He's standing over you, the intense look still hardened on his visage. He throws the bag to the side, its contents smacking the side table hard.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to upset you!" You practically cry, feeling the tears well up in your eyes. You hold your hands in front of you instinctively. He's breathing so rapidly, he must be livid. What the hell did you do?

"Skinsuit." His voice isn't angry, his heavy and rapid breathing isn't rage. He's clearly upset, but not enraged at you. He almost sounds sad. "Who tried to kill you?"

You hold your breath, staring at him. Time passes, but you don't know how to answer. Finally, Revenant hunches forward to get closer to you, slipping a claw under your shirt and against your abdomen.

"This isn't a surgical scar. This is a stab wound from a kitchen knife." He sounds calm again, but you're still too locked up to answer him. "I wasn't sure until I saw the other four scars."

His hands glide to another place on your abdomen on the opposite side, then to an area of your lower rib cage, a second under your breast, and one near your clavicle. He brushes each one carefully before pulling you up into a sitting position to meet his eyes.

"What happened?" His face is right in front of you. You didn't realize this is how you were going to have to tell him, let alone that the scars are what he'd latch on to. He sighs, not getting a word out of you yet.

He stands up and sits down next to you on the side of the bed. He's so damn heavy that he creates a pit in the mattress that sucks you towards him. You land against his arm, which wraps around your back and holds you close.

"Don't panic, I just want to know what happened." He states, keeping as monotone as possible. You can sense that he's actually quite upset still, but is likely trying to make sure you don't feel like the target of his ire.

You're still having trouble reigning in all the anxiety, catastrophic thoughts, depressed ideations, and traumatized fear to yourself. If you speak now, nothing is going to make sense and you might start to cry instead. His hold is reassuring, but it's not enough to stop your brain from running on all threads against your will. You feel yourself shaking against his metal frame, trying to come up with an extra bit of bandwidth to talk, but unable to muster any.

You hear him sigh as he notices you struggling. He pulls you further into the gravity sink he's created in the mattress edge and leans into you, intentionally rattling his artificial lung pumps in your ear. He gives you a few minutes to try to gather yourself before he decides to intercede.

He holds your chin and forces you to face him. His LED eyes are bright and much more relaxed than before, and the sight of him calms you down quite a bit. You almost forget what you are even thinking about; only a single, lucid line of thought still runs in your head. Your shuddering stops, and you feel clear enough to speak again. You take a deep breath, and you let yourself speak.

"Right after my ex and I went our separate ways and I met Sherry, I would walk between here and the homeless shelter so I could keep on top of getting this job." You lower your head to look away, so Revenant withdraws his hand from your chin. "I guess some gang was watching me and saw an opening one night. I got grabbed from behind and they put a rag on my face, but when I went to scream I woke up in the ICU instead." You pause. "I don't remember anything, but they told me I had been--"

"You don't have to say it." Revenant interrupts before your voice cracks from the thought. You sigh, grateful for the reprieve.

"I guess they decided to kill me and dump me in a ditch out in the Dust, probably hoping a pack of prowlers would destroy the evidence." Your voice tremolos as you struggle to put together experiences you don't remember. "They nearly succeeded. I almost bled out in the ditch, but a Hammond employee found me on his way home from a late night at the office and got me to a hospital." You feel numb, but your voice betrays you. "They destroyed one of my lungs, managed to slit open my digestive tract in a few places, barely missed both my jugular and subclavian veins at once, and hit me directly in the liver and popped one of my kidneys. I should have died."

You sit there for a moment, gathering your thoughts. Revenant respects the silence and waits for you to continue.

"The Hammond employee who found me donated a bunch of their prototyped synthetic organs to replace mine. One of my lungs, one of my kidneys, and my liver are Hammond prototypes of the ones currently on the market. I also have some of their experimental silicone meshes holding together the digestive tract in the multiple places it was sliced open. I don't think I would have recovered without them."

"How are they holding up?" Revenant asks, carefully pushing his hand against your chest on the side with the artificial lung.

"I haven't noticed any problems, not to say that I know what that would feel like." You place your hand over his, gently touching the Hammond Robotics logo etched into the plate on the back of his hand. It has giant gashes in it, as if he's tried to scratch it off at some point. If this is a new chassis, he must have scratched it out very recently.

"So they used you as a guinea pig for their prototypes?" Revenant growls. "Typical."

"I never thought about it like that. It's not like I could afford synthetics anyway, let alone real ones. It felt like a blessing." You run your fingers over each jagged metal scratch on his metal plates carefully. "I would have died if Hammond hadn't donated them."

"Not to scare you, but be careful with the deals you make with those devils." Revenant's hand pushes harder into your chest.

"I didn't make any deals, I wasn't even asked. They just put them in and sewed me up." You mumble, concerned by his apparent disgust for his own manufacturer.

"Of course they didn't even ask. Silly me." His voice is low and dripping with hatred. You start to pull away from him in fear, but he notices and pulls you back gently. He wraps his arms around you completely and his chin rests on your head. You're not going anywhere at this point. "I'm not angry with you. You're a victim in all this." His voice is softer, but it's a ruse. His lungs are labored with rage and you can feel the tension in his body. You let the silence fall for a moment.

"Revenant, are you okay?" You whimper from under his grasp, unsure of yourself. You feel his fingers turn to points and grip you, but carefully angled not to puncture you.

"I have a lot of work to do." His voice is low and hateful again, his words equally as ominous. His voice jumps back to something softer to address you. "Do you remember anything about the men who chloroformed you? Or when it happened?"

"I'm sorry, it's all really fuzzy." You shake your head a little, in case he can't hear your quiet whisper. He growls, clearly caught up in his thoughts, determined to find a way to narrow down his search. "Does it really matter?" You ask, unsure of what he plans to do.

"Yes, it's important." He huffs for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "I'm going to give you the entrails of every punk who violated you as a gift, and I'm going to pry Hammond's claws off of you before it's too late."

"Wait, you don't have to--"

"You used up your pardon, skinsuit. Now, I am the sole judge, jury, and executioner in this case." He sounds so livid, you can't help but shrink under him and hope none of his wrath is aimed in your direction.

The silence falls again, spare for his blood curdling huffs of rage. He slowly calms himself, likely with some kind of plan on what to do.

"Skinsuit, did they kit you when you were at the hospital?"

"Of course, but there's not a universal DNA database of criminals in the Outlands, assuming it was even entered into one at all. As a gang they might have connections. Either way, it didn't amount to anything. Plus, there was a lot of different DNA..." You trail off, shuddering at your own words and trying not to vomit up the pit in your stomach. Revenant grips you tightly in response to your quivering.

"Skinsuit, I need you to listen to me. I will handle this. I don't want you to worry about it anymore." His voice is determined and steadfast.

"I wasn't worried about it before, I just didn't know how I was going to tell you any of this." You manage to get out as you choke back stressful tears. "I was worried you'd be upset that I didn't tell you earlier."

He locks eyes with you from above, but you avert yours. His LEDs are bright enough that you know he's staring at you, trying to gauge your emotional state. Sure, maybe you are upset by the whole ordeal. Maybe it is why you struggle so much with despair. Maybe it is the event that broke you emotionally. But you don't want to dredge it up any more than you have to. It's hard enough telling him this, why does he need to make it into a mission?

"Your heart rate is spiking." You hear him dryly state. You cower deeper into his frame. "Don't be so nervous, like I said, I'll handle it from here."

Something in your head pops and you feel the unmistakable taste and heat of anger overtake you. Mania shows up for a mere few moments, in an attempt to bring righteous indignation to the fray.

"Handle what?! It's not like you can just undo what happened! What's the point? Just pretend like I didn't say anything!" You pull away from him and stand up, but he holds onto your wrist, only allowing you to get arm's length from him. "You can't just assassinate every problem into oblivion! It doesn't work like that!" You're staring down a simulacrum that has single handedly spilt more blood than in all the people you've met in your lifetime, but for this rage induced moment, you don't care. "Heck, if you really want to erase the problem, kill me! Because then nobody has to deal with it! That's what was supposed to happen! But I just had to get lucky at the worst time imaginable!" Your lungs empty out from yelling.

He reels back in shock, releasing your wrist. You have nowhere to go, so you just hover there, staring him down. In this fleeting moment, you have bested the Revenant. You are in charge, but only for a mere moment in time. The anger peters out and sadness overwhelms you in its place. Tears start flowing before you even start to vocalize your pain. The moment has ended. You hurriedly collapse to your knees on the floor and bury your face in your hands, trying to hide yourself as you cry. You hate it when this happens. Immediately after you get angry enough to snap, you regret everything and collapse into a sobbing mess. Every time. You just openly confessed you wish you had died instead. You asked Revenant to kill you instead. On top of it all, now you're crying on the floor like you didn't just say something heinous to him.

You gasp for air between your desperate attempts to suppress your cries, which leak out as sorrowful whimpers instead. You feel his palm on your head, but you can't bear to look up at him. He gives you a moment, possibly hoping you will collect yourself, but he gives up quickly. He kneels down beside you and you hear the clangs of his scarf straps coming loose. You feel his scarf wrap around your face like a hood, absorbing the wayward tears and helping hide your face. He bunches up the extra scarf around your shoulders and loosely ties the buckled straps to hold it to you. He reaches into the hood and holds your hands that are pressed against your face, intentionally fluttering his fingers around yours to wipe away tears. He withdraws, wraps his arms underneath you, and lifts you in his arms. He doesn't even struggle to lift you, remaining completely unwavering.

You feel him carry you out of the room and down the hallway, back towards the laundry room. You pull his scarf completely over your face, trying to calm your cries to be as quiet as possible. Your labored breathing is the only audible indicator of your tears now. You feel his arms push up against the swinging door to the laundry room before feeling the humidity difference wash over you as he enters. You hear the sound of Sherry still snoring on the bench. Revenant carries you towards the back of the room and gently places you on one of the still-warm dryers. You feel him open the front-loading door on the dryer and pull out the load of laundry, doing the same to the second dryer next to you. As the door clicks shut, you hear Sherry stir and wake up, moaning a little in protest.

"Oh, hey, is she okay?" She sleepily addresses Revenant.

"She needs time." A fairly honest dodge, but not really an answer to her question.

"I guess she told you while I was out, huh?" Sherry sighs, yawning afterwards. Revenant stops moving next to you for a moment.

"You knew?" He doesn't sound mad, simply intrigued.

"Of course, I lied and told them I was her biological sister so I could get into the hospital and stay with her." Sherry sounds sad, reflecting on it. "I had no idea she walked alone between here and the shelter. Had I known, I would have called a cab or just done the interviews over the phone..." She trails off, regaining her composure. "After that, I fudged everything to get her this job so she could escape that life."

"Do you remember any details of that night?" Revenant asks with piqued intrigue.

"Of course, I couldn't forget even if I wanted to." You rarely hear Sherry sound so deep in self-shame. You wish she would accept that it wasn't her fault, but you also know that's easier said than done.

"I'll speak to you about it later, then." You jump a little as his hand caresses your arm. You're too withdrawn in his scarf to see anything, so you have no warning when he touches you. Your startled wince doesn't seem to bother him, as he locks his arm around yours, allowing him to continue working with his hands. He must be folding some of the laundry, or at least trying. You can't imagine he's well-versed in the practice.

"You're going to try to find those guys?" Some hope returns to Sherry's voice.

"I will." He doesn't hesitate and he has no doubts. As an assassin he must have some sleuthing skills. He's more than proven himself to be clever, at the least. You still don't want him to bother, though. It doesn't fix what happened, but maybe it could save someone else, at the least.

"Hey! What the hell?" You hear Revenant shout as he withdraws his arm from you and staggers backwards. You pull your face out of the scarf to see Sherry hugging a very confused Revenant.

"Eviscerate them and hang them by their fucking entrails." Sherry mumbles before letting go, and turning to you. "I hope you don't mind, he earned it." She smiles through her exhausted expression, giving you a quick hug too. She pulls away and shuffles to her folded stack of laundry, picking it up and making her way out of the room. Revenant watches her exit with concentrated attention before turning to you.

"Never thought I'd have a second idiot asking me for a favor." He huffs, stepping back over to you. He reaches into the scarf and holds your cheek for a moment, locking eyes with you. "No worries though, you're my first and favorite idiot." His intense determination has melted back down to a teasing vitriol. You let your head tilt into his palm approvingly, letting some wayward tears drip onto him.

He pulls his hand back slowly, intentionally tugging the scarf back to cover your face so you can't see. You're startled when you feel a pile of warm, clean laundry land in your lap.

"Hold this." You hear him instruct as you feel him pick you back up. You wrap your arms around the pile of sheets, clothes, and towels, doing your best to prevent any from falling out of your grip. He carries you, buried in a pile of warm laundry, all the way back to the room before lightly dropping you onto the bare mattress. You let the laundry bury you, enjoying the warmth.

"Why did I even try to fold anything...?" You hear Revenant mumble as he reaches in and pulls you upright, undoing his scarf from you. You let him pull it off of you, but don't bother to watch him put it back on himself. You prefer to bury yourself back in the warm pile of clothing, messing them up further. You hear his buckles lock down on his chassis as he walks away. "I have some leads to follow up on, stay there until I find you a babysitter." The door slams before you can sit up and ask him what he means. He's already gone. He can disappear as quickly as he can appear, climbing walls and collapsing himself into vents and nooks. Even though he used the door this time, it never ceases to scare you a little.

You wish he would just stay around and not leave. Considering how hard it was to even explain what exactly happened to you when you were attacked, you had hoped he would realize being left alone is the worst possible thing. Although, maybe he does realize this, and is getting Sherry to stay with you. Still, you'd rather it be him. It feels like a cop out for him to just leave you with her, but maybe he's also dealing with some emotions too. Unfortunately, you're worried he thinks he can somehow undo everything that happened to you with a bloodbath of vengeance.

You sigh, getting up and looking at the disheveled pile of laundry. You begin to toss your wads of clothing into your duffel bag. No point in folding any of it, it's not like you own anything nice. As you pick through, some appear to be partially folded but his claws had poked some holes in them. Well, at least it's all cheap and replaceable. You toss them into the bag anyway, right now you don't have time to get new ones. You fold the towels and place them in the bathroom, nicely folded and ready to be used again. You take the one odd rag to the kitchenette, finding the drawer full of its siblings and placing it nicely.

Finally, you make the bed. It's an annoying and cumbersome process when you're working alone--the beds here are so big you have to do laps around it to get all the sheets and blanket right. However, you refuse to cut corners, and get it done pretty quickly. The majority of your past few years here have been focused on housekeeping, so you consider yourself quite adept and efficient at it. After throwing on the pillowcases and making a small mound of plush pillows to jump on later, you consider it done.

With nothing left to do, you decide to jump on the pillow mound early, burying yourself in it.

Almost as soon as you get comfortable, the door swings back open.

"Skinsuit! Meet your friend for the day!" Revenant sounds oddly sadistic, but why?

You turn around to meet eyes with a single, red, optical bulb.

"Hello, new friend! I'm Pathfinder, and I am a MRVN!" He waves at you as if you're not a mere few yards away. You actually already know Pathfinder, but he tends to forget who you are regularly. Maybe it's from getting damaged in the Apex Games? Or perhaps it's since he's only ever met you in passing before. After all, there's never been a good reason for him to remember you until now. "Very nice to meet you, Skinsuit!"

Revenant fights back a chortle as Pathfinder gets your name so morbidly wrong. You have no reason to correct him, though, after all you never had parents to give you a real name. You've been trying on different names for decades. 'Skinsuit' just seems to fit this stage of your life, weirdly enough.

"After our misunderstanding yesterday, I decided to make it up to him by introducing you two." Revenant explains to you, his hands gesturing sarcastically. Misunderstanding is one way to put it. "He's going to make sure you don't hurt, maim, kill, or otherwise damage yourself while I'm gone."

"Yes! I don't let friends do any of those things!" Pathfinder pipes up excitedly, probably not even realizing the subtext of what Revenant is implying.

Revenant must be holding on to your self-destructive rant from earlier. That explains why he's keeping some distance. You wish you could take it back, but words don't work like that. You still can't ignore it and let it stand, though.

"Rev, I'm sorry." You blurt out, not caring what Pathfinder might think. Revenant locks eyes with you for a moment, looking slightly less on-edge than before, but still quite tense. His pause doesn't last long, as his manipulative performance must go on for Pathfinder.

"There's nothing to apologize for. " He shrugs with heavy exaggeration, even though he clearly knows what you're referring to. "Just don't be a liability." He turns to Pathfinder, who has been listening intently. "Try to keep her safe, you wouldn't want to get me in trouble if she gets hurt, would you?"

"Absolutely not, brother!" He salutes, seemingly aloof to the tension in the air.

With that, Revenant disappears behind the closing door and is gone again.

Cool, more metal friends you didn't ask for. Well, the first one went well, maybe this won't be so bad.

"You said the right thing." Pathfinder suddenly sounds more serious, even if it still has an unmistakable twinge of optimism. "He seemed upset. I think you made him feel better."

"Wait, you saw through that?" You're dumbfounded, what is with all the perceptive robots in this place?

"He always acts like that for me, but I don't mind. He only does it for me, so we must be like brothers!" Okay, maybe he's not working with a perfectly clear perspective, but still. "And he wouldn't try to get me to watch you if he didn't value you, so I will do this as a favor to him." The screen on his chest emotes a heart-eyed smiling face. "He was very upset when he thought I had figured out his secret, so you must be a very good friend to be a secret friend!"

"Wait, you saw me yesterday?" Is this MRVN a genius and pretending to be unassuming, or somehow a perfectly naïve clairvoyant? He's able to hide his power of perception from Revenant, so he can't be stupid.

"Of course! I have sensors that pick up on heat and vital signs. But you were clearly hiding, so I did not want to ruin your fun."

Fun? Oh, he's so perfectly naïve, or you're falling for a perfectly executed feign. Whichever it is, Pathfinder is a little scary in the exact opposite manner that Revenant is. Revenant may be a homicidal simulacrum with deeply human roots, but his intentions are fairly obvious and any malice he has is clear cut and concise. Pathfinder is much more confusing, clearly more intelligent than he lets on, but so perfectly optimistic that he comes off as non-threatening. Despite that impression, you've seen Pathfinder take down some of the scariest Legends over the years, often with a near-condescending air of playful joy while doing so. When Revenant kills, the bloodlust is sensible, but playfulness? It's somehow scarier.

"Are you okay, friend? You seem nervous. Did I say something bad?" His emote shows a distressed face.

"Sorry, I just get caught up in thought sometimes. What did you want to do for fun?" You figure he won't hurt you, even if you can't completely figure him out.

"Well, what do you and Revenant usually do for fun?" His emote brightens into a smile again as you grimace internally. He's either wholly unaware or viscously teasing you.

"How about we do something else? Let's..." You think, what would be nice to do? You're a bit hard pressed to come up with anything fun.

"We could bring flowers to people in the infirmary!" He pipes up happily. It's not a bad idea, really.

"Sure! I actually wanted to visit the second place Legends, if that's okay. Fuse is so nice and so is Bloodhound. Caustic... probably won't mind." You've never really met Caustic, but you know he has a reputation for being grumpy.

• • • •

You walk out into the hidden atrium behind Pathfinder's room. You knew this was here, but nobody ever comes out here to your knowledge. The doors lock if you're not careful to keep them open, so the risk of being locked outside tends to lead most to avoid the area entirely, even though it connects two wings more efficiently than the hallways.

It's full of flowers of all types, sizes, and colors. The arrangement is chaotic and seemingly random, but the lusciousness of the plants more than makes up for it. The ground flowers are blooming and have various bee species hovering around, seemingly at peace with one another. There are a few small trees reaching around eight or nine feet high and giving a little shade. One has flowers, another has berries, and yet another has some kind of unripe fruit. It's truly breathtaking, and completely undisturbed after years of being left alone by the other Legends.

"You did all this?" You ask aloud, completely in awe of the secret oasis.

"Yes! Do you like it? We can pick some flowers from here!" Pathfinder seems especially happy to be sharing this with someone.

"It's beautiful." You mutter, still captivated by how mythical this little cut of land feels.

"Thank you! I have been meaning to show Revenant, but he will never chase me this far." Pathfinder shuffles over to an area and pulls up Revenant's abandoned bovine skull from the last match with a giant chipped gash in the forehead. He's filled in the bottom and red rose buds have been replanted in the eye holes. A large snail is making its way around the gash with its mossy shell, making for an artistic arrangement. "I am really proud of this one. I felt bad his new suit was destroyed, so I wanted to keep a part of it for him. Once the roses grow, it will look really nice!"

You're impressed. Revenant seems to have some kind of distaste for Pathfinder, and you're beginning to understand why. Pathfinder is scary. He's terrifyingly kind. If your guard isn't up at all times, he will reach a deep part of you and break down your defenses in an instant. When the entirety of the Outlands treats people as disposable assets and teaches everyone to trust as few people as possible, this MRVN will treat anyone like they truly matter, like they are truly cared for, and like they are capable of great things. It's dangerous to believe those things in this universe. That's how you get victimized, abandoned, and let down. Yet, this MRVN manages to hold on to these beliefs about himself and others, and he isn't broken, dead, or an abandoned shell.

Revenant, like you, can't adhere to those beliefs. The universe has spoken, and it says otherwise. Yet, it feels nice to indulge in the feeling of mattering, even if only for a few hours. Is that why he chose Pathfinder? Of course, Pathfinder is the living opposite of a suicidal ideation, after all. Maybe Revenant knew that.

"Stupid, clever jerk." You mumble out loud.

"Me?" Pathfinder has a confused emote as he points to himself.

"Oh, sorry, no, I meant someone else." You pause, switching subjects. "It's really nice of you to reuse his favorite chassis like this. I think it's really pretty, even if he never sees it."

"Thank you, friend!" His happy emote is back, and he waves you over to another area. "Have you seen this chassis? It's my favorite!"

You walk over and follow him to see a rounded red, purple, and white chestplate that has been cracked and shattered, but loosely put back together. It has the word "Thunder" and the number "81" written on it, as well as a unique mask attached to it. This mask doesn't look like any skull you've seen before, human or otherwise, but still has a bony texture. It appears to have hooks near the chin, perhaps where it was attached to the exoskeleton, as well as unusual leather bags under the eyes. It looks perpetually tired and angry, but you definitely can't say you've seen him wear this before. The chestplate is closed over an old wood stump and beautiful mushrooms have sprung to life in the darkness and reached beyond the chassis to meet the light. His mask has a particularly colorful fungus growing on it, happily latching onto the porous material more easily than the chestplate. It's gorgeous, but you wish you could see this chassis on him too.

"No, I've never seen this one before... I haven't seen him wear it in the games either. What is it?" You ask, curious why he would have such an odd chassis in his repertoire.

"He uses it when we spar! I don't think he uses it much otherwise."

"You two spar?" You're surprised. Maybe Revenant also finds excuses to dabble in the feeling of mattering sometimes.

"Yes! Not too often, I think he gets frustrated that I am an excellent boxer. I have tried to let him win, but he doesn't like that." Your eyes widen. Pathfinder can outclass Revenant in a sparring match? This guy really is scary. "You should come sometime!"

You look back at the busted chassis. Was Revenant knocked out of this one with a blow from Pathfinder? You knew all MRVN are particularly sturdy and powerful, but you never really felt it until now. You're a helpless ragdoll full of easily exploitable and fatal flaws to Revenant, but you never even considered that perspective when around Pathfinder. Now you do.

"You can really beat Revenant?" You mumble aloud, not intending it as a real question.

"When we only use our fists, yes! I don't think I could beat him if he was allowed to use his stabbing hands. He is getting better though!" He doesn't acknowledge your apparent fear, simply giving a chipper answer. "Whiplash to the neck is a weak point in his design. He is learning that he can't let me land an uppercut. You should come watch sometime! I bet he would fight harder with you there!"

The thought of Pathfinder knocking out Revenant with an uppercut is unbelievable to you. You almost want to know if it's really possible.

"I will, if you're both okay with it." You look up at Pathfinder, who immediately makes a happy clapping motion.

"Yes! I look forward to it!"

"Do you have any more insider information on his other suits?" You ask, curious how many he has seen.

"He's told me about some, but I haven't seen them yet. Only some special colored versions of his normal one." He looks upwards as if to think, the emote on his screen changing to match. You've seen some of the other colors in past games, but never in person. You hope he has a lot of different suits, especially since they tend to alter his personality a little. You wonder what his sparring suit does to him.

"We are here to visit Fuse, Bloodhound, and Caustic!" Pathfinder chirps, flashing his ID badge. You place yours on the counter as well, as the receptionist scans them both. You know the receptionist, Carol's been here a long time, and she's used to seeing volunteers come through to visit the Legends.

"Let's pick some flowers for the others, then maybe we can talk some more." You want to make sure you get to see the second place team, knowing the extent of their injuries is well beyond simple gunshots wounds. Revenant had run Caustic and Fuse through completely, and probably broke many of Bloodhound's bones. You're a little worried for all of them.

• • • •

You and Pathfinder approach the receptionist in the infirmary wing, holding three unique bunches of flowers. You couldn't find vases, so they're propped up in glass soda bottles filled with water. It may be a cheap alternative to a proper vase, but the flower quality makes up for it.

She starts to laugh after scanning your badge.

"Little Skinsuit? Is that what you're going by now?" She prods. "Also, I didn't know Revenant liked anyone enough to have a direct hire. I guess all that dedication to the grump-machine paid off, huh? Congrats!" She's very nice, and doesn't pry further than that.

"I'm not going to tell Revenant what not to call me, that would be asking for trouble. But thank you! It only took four seasons and figuring out his favorite liquor." You take your ID back.

"Ha! Leave it to you to make your way up in the world through the craziest means possible. Revenant still scares the heck out of me. Today was the first time I've ever seen him visit anyone, though. Maybe he's softening up." She spins a little in her chair thinking about it. "Anyway, tell Sherry I said 'hi' when you see her next!"

"Will do! Thanks Carol!" You chime back, walking past the desk with your arms full of bouquets, Pathfinder following behind. Why would Revenant have come by here earlier? That's very odd.

As you turn the corner, you see the names of the currently admitted Legends on each of the doorways. There are not many left, it seems like most were discharged this afternoon. Fuse, Bloodhound, and Caustic are all still here though.

Caustic's room is the closest, but you'd rather wait to deal with him last. You haven't met him, and those who have aren't usually treated well apparently. He almost has as bad of a reputation as Revenant, but Sherry has always been able to interact with him reasonably. She told you it had something to do with being close to Wattson, but that doesn't make much sense to you.

"Let's see Fuse first." You say, carefully making your way to Fuse's door. You knock lightly before you hear his booming voice welcome you.

"Door's unlocked, mate!" He barely sounds injured. As you open the door, you see Fuse grinning widely and sitting upright in bed. He's in a hospital gown, chest exposed to reveal a massive but sewed up and sealed wound. "Oy, you brought me flowers! How kind of ya." He's absolutely beaming for someone with a massive hole in his chest.

"Sorry we came so late in the afternoon, I just wanted to visit and make sure you were okay." You fumble over your words, not sure how else to admit you were worried about him and the others. Let alone that it's partially an apology for Revenant absolutely skewering him.

"Not a problem, I see you brought a different metal fellow with ya t'day." He motions to a table beside him, where you place the flowers.

"Good to see you again Fuse, I am glad to see you are recovering well." Pathfinder chirps, forever positive.

"So, sheila, how is the angry feller?" Right, he knows about you and Revenant.

"He's, uh, under some stress, but nothing he can't handle, I'm sure." You're not sure how else to answer. Saying he's fine is too obvious of a lie, but you don't want to be too specific either.

"Really? Who knew? The red rage actually has problems like the rest of us." He chuckles. Normally you wouldn't think much of his statement, but Fuse is the type to try to get anyone to warm up to him, Revenant being no exception. Perhaps you've said too much.

"Yes! Which is why I'm taking care of his secret friend for him! She's not allowed to be a liability!" Pathfinder gently pats your shoulder. Why did he have to say that? Fuse catches sight of your dejected look and laughs harder, gripping his chest to steady the pain. Pathfinder takes his laughter as some kind of endorsement, while you hang your head in embarrassment. Fuse catches his breath finally.

"No worries sheila, I won't tell a soul. You may have to keep that a bit more under wraps though, Pathy." Fuse says through labored breaths. That laugh must have hurt. Pathfinder cocks his head in confusion. "I think the point of having a 'secret friend' is to keep them a secret, not to tell everyone!"

"Oh no! I'm sorry!" Pathfinder realizes his mistake, a blue sad face appearing on his screen.

"It's okay, Pathfinder, Fuse actually already knew." You pat him on the arm in reassurance.

"Yeah, no worries mate. Just be a little more careful." His smile erases any embarrassment you feel. "Well, I'll let ya make your other rounds, I'm gonna turn in for the night." Fuse waves goodbye to you both as you excuse yourselves.

You make your way across the hall to the room labelled for Bloodhound. You lightly knock, and a nurse opens the door carefully for you. You slip in quietly and see Bloodhound lying on their back, their head facing your direction. You see their eyes dart in your direction, no longer buried under their usual goggles. Their head is well-wrapped in gauze, and their breathing mask is replaced with a hospital oxygen mask. You can finally see their eyes, which are filled with a softness you don't usually see.

Artur is on a large perch in the corner of the room, surprisingly. Bloodhound likely had to fight to get Artur into the infirmary at some point, since the perch almost looks to be a permanent installment now. Artur coos, watching the room carefully.

"Ah, the apprentice and Pathfinder." They address you both, but don't sit up. They likely aren't able to in this state.

You look to the nurse and offer her the flowers, not sure if you can approach Bloodhound at all. She takes the vase and puts it on a table a short ways from them, but well within their eyesight. Bloodhound seems enamored by the flowers, but also confused by their presence for a few moments.

"Ah, right, flowers are a common gift to the injured." They say to themself before turning to you both. "Your well wishes are accepted graciously. May the Allfather bless you in return."

You bow instinctively, not wanting to speak too loudly in the quiet room. Pathfinder notices and attempts to do the same, but starts to lose his balance and barely recovers. Once you right yourself, you break the silence for a mere moment.

"Get well soon, Bloodhound. Please don't..." You trail off, not sure where you were going. Die? Unlikely. Hurt? They're already hurt. Hate Revenant? They're not the type. "... don't be a stranger." You recover a little, but you're sure you're coming off awkwardly.

Bloodhound smiles with their eyes, and you feel much better, quietly slipping back out the door. Pathfinder follows, waiting for the door to close before speaking.

"I kept the secret!" He pumps his fists a little. You chuckle.

"By not talking at all. I guess it works." You pat him on the arm again. "One left, but I don't know anything about Caustic. I hope he's not as bad as they say."

Pathfinder takes the last bouquet from you and leads the way this time, apparently willing to handle the interaction himself. He knocks on the door and opens it, revealing a growling Caustic on the other side, sitting upright in bed and writing in a notebook. His usual mask is switched for an oxygen mask, and he's in a hospital garb that is far too large for him.

"Greetings, doctor! I brought you flowers!" Pathfinder chirps happily, ignoring Caustic's scowl.

"I don't want flowers. I already had to answer the simulacrum's idiotic questions, why are you bothering me now?" Caustic asks angrily, averting his attention back to his notebook.

"I intentionally got you chamomile flowers, they're Wattson's favorite for tea!" Pathfinder chirps, holding the white and yellow-centered flowers up. Caustic suddenly looks up from his notebook with a softer expression, before sighing and relenting.

"Fine, put them down on the table." His voice and expression have softened, but you're not sure why. Pathfinder must know something you don't.

As Pathfinder moves to put the flowers on his table, you lose your body to hide behind. Caustic notices you, and suddenly smiles a little wickedly.

"Ah, the simulacrum's personal lapdog reveals herself." He sneers. How did he know about you? Did Revenant say something? "You have quite the science project at your beck and call. How did a little thing like you manage that?"

You're not sure how to answer, and you know your discomfort is visible on your face. Pathfinder seems to notice as well.

"You seem to be a kindred spirit, flirting with death. Makes you feel more alive, doesn't it?" He coughs a little, interrupting his train of thought. His voice returns in a much more serious tone. "I'm afraid I can't do anything more for either of you, but I'll keep you in mind if I need to get under the simulacrum's skin."

Pathfinder doesn't speak, but starts walking towards the door, gently herding you in that direction. You leave, unsure of what else to say after that. The door gently closes behind you both.

"Are you okay, friend?" Pathfinder asks.

Now late in the evening, you finally make it back to Revenant's room, bidding Pathfinder goodbye before opening the door. You're holding a single flower you picked out for Revenant, despite Pathfinder's insistence that Revenant doesn't like or accept flowers. He's tested it thoroughly, or so he claims. You're certain this one is different, though. You picked this one for him, and you picked it for a reason. As you slip through the door, Revenant stands up from the computer desk to meet you.

"Yeah, just disturbed, I guess. Let's go, it's getting late. Let me grab dinner and let's go back to your garden." You answer, not sure what Caustic meant. You'd rather spend the rest of the evening chatting about Revenant's different chassis with Pathfinder than dwelling on Caustic's cryptic words.

• • • •

"You must have had fun. You've been gone all day." He notices the flower. "Pathfinder managed to pawn one of his flowers off on you?" He scoffs, rolling his optics.

"Actually, I picked this one for you." You correct him, unsurprised by his initial rejection. He seems to tense at the realization it's a gift from you, not Pathfinder, and that he has already judged it so openly. "It's a datura flower, I thought it was fitting."

"Datura? Like the drug?" He asks, trying to ignore his previous judgement on the flower.

"Yeah, it's called the Devil's Trumpet. It's poisonous if ingested, and causes psychedelic delusions. It's legendary for giving some of the most hellish waking nightmares. Isn't that something you've said about yourself? A nightmare flower for the nightmare Apex Predator!" You finish your short speech, and he carefully takes the flower from you, staring silently at its alluring but deceptive beauty for a few moments in silence.

"Thank you." He finally says, carefully placing the makeshift vase and flower down on the computer desk. "I wanted to talk to you about something while we're at it."

"Is this about what I said earlier? I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything. I wasn't thinking, and--"

"You wanted to die. It's okay. I understand that feeling." He takes your hand and sits you down on the bed as he takes the office chair opposite to you. "I don't want you to die, even though I am certain I will live to see the day anyway." He pauses, gathering the words he wants to say. "If you really find you cannot handle living any longer, I want you to die painlessly in my arms."

You sit there, unable to fully process what he means, or perhaps you're refusing to process it. It's hard to swallow, if your suspicion is right. He lets the pause hang before finally specifying.

"If you truly must die, I want to be the one to take your life." His head hangs, and he refuses to make further eye contact. "It will be painless, you won't be alone, and I can hold you one last time." His pain is apparent.

As soon as the words register in your head, you throw yourself to the floor and kneel under his hunched over body, trying to meet his gaze. He is unmistakably despaired, so you stand into him, hugging him as you do.

"I'm so sorry Revenant, I promise it won't come to that." You're pleading with him to trust you, but you're not sure how to convince him. "I love you, I just want to spend as much time with you as I can. I won't let it come to that."

You're pretty sure you sound desperate, but you're not sure how he'll interpret that. You are desperate to get him back from wherever his mind is. He stays limp in your arms for a few moments--long enough to concern you. His optics are still on, so he's not rebooting. He's just pondering, and somehow that's more worrying than anything.

Finally, Revenant hugs you back, standing up and lifting you off the ground. He brings you to the bed, carefully lying down in it and dragging you into an enveloping hold. He holds you tightly, but with an intensity you haven't felt before. He doesn't speak, just holds you, refusing to let go.

You lay there, unable to move and unwilling to abandon him for what feels like hours, until your consciousness starts to fade. You drift off quickly, unable to deny your exhaustion any further.

[not-me-simping-for-blasty]

I Melt With You - Bakugou Katsuki

All Parts

Part 8:

It’s a sunday evening, and you’re kicking your feet up. The television is on low, and your apartment smells like the food you’d had for dinner earlier. All things considered, it’s the most relaxing day off you could’ve asked for. You’d slept in, stayed in, and not got off your couch for anything more than food or a bathroom break. It was perfection.

But perfection expires. Even quicker when somebody forcefully shatters it with a fist against your balcony door.

At the sight of Bakugou, you can’t help but be confused. You’d seen him last just a few nights ago, and, as he already proved, he only came around as a last resort. But, even stranger that his mere presence was his appearance. It was nearing evening, and Bakugou was standing behind the glass in civilian clothes. Normal ones, with a scarf and a coat for once- no hero costume or gauntlets in sight. He had a shopping bag held in the other hand, crinkling the plastic with impatience as you open the door for him. 

“Back again so soon?” You comment.

“Shut up.”

“You could try a hello once in awhile, you know.” You sigh, sliding the door open wider for him. “But I guess I’ll let you in. It is pretty cold out.”

“It’s not cold, you’re just a bitch-”

“Ah!” You scold, spinning around to face his smirk. “What did I say about calling women, and me, that?”

“Don’t know.” He shrugs, mouth drawn up in that way you’d quickly come to realize irritated the hell out of you. “Wasn’t listenin’.”

Bakugou brushes past you easily, somehow leading you into your own kitchen. A part of you wants to yell at him for it, but a larger part quickly realizes how much of a lost cause that would be. After all, it would be pretty pointless to yell at a wild animal for acting like a wild animal. 

Swinging from his hand is a plastic bag, and with no ceremony whatsoever, Bakugou slams it onto your counter. The sound makes you cringe and you’re not sure what takes more damage- the contents of the bag or your own countertop. Then he turns his back, stepping away without a word. He takes a seat at your table, flipping the chair backwards, settling into it, and resting his chin on his hands- and says nothing, of course, because it’s Bakugou. 

“So- what, you’re just gonna leave your stuff there?” You ask, fighting the urge to look inside the bag. “Just, like, out on the counter?”

Bakugou must see your eagerness, because then he’s rolling his eyes. He lifts his head like the gesture pains him, and points loosely towards the bag. 

“Go. Look.” He says. “Knock yourself out, leech. ‘s for you.”

“You bought me something?”

“Yeah? And? What about it?” He bites out defensively. “’s not a big fuckin’ deal or anything.”

“Nothing- I- that’s just nice, I wasn’t expecting it. Thank you.”

He seems to fluster at your words, casting his eyes to the floor. But he waves his hand again, and you realize he’s waiting for you to open the gift, so you near the counter.

 Inside the bag are new dish rags and high-quality bandages and a mountain of cold compresses. You dig a little further, finding some tissues and gauze and even painkillers. He seems to have accounted for and replaced everything you’d ever given him- and then some. 

“I- this is really nice. Really.” You say earnestly, unpacking everything and setting it down on the counter. “Thank you, Bakugou.”

“Yeah. Whatever. Only did it so you don’t think I owe you anything.”

“I never thought you owed me anything in the first place, you know.”

He just shakes his head at that, mouth curling around a subtle smirk. “Only an idiot serves people for free.”

“I don’t- I’m helping you!”

“I know, chill the hell out.” He laughs. “I was kidding, leech.”

You look at him, and Bakugou looks a lot different that you’ve ever seen him. He’s refreshed, skin no longer pallid, his eyes bright and alert. It’s nice, you realize, to see him in something other than pain, absolute exhaustion, or a mood for once.

He almost beautiful- in very much the same way his explosions are. From an incredibly healthy distance.

You shake your head of the thought, turning around quickly before he can notice the heat in your cheeks. It’s a silly thing to be embarrassed about, and you know it, but that doesn’t stop the feeling. 

So instead of dwelling on it, you ignore it entirely- spin on your heels and start walking towards your bathroom. 

“Where’re ya going now?” He asks, and you hear the chair squeak as he stands. Then he’s trailing behind you for a few steps. “Hah?”

“Bathroom. Gotta get the kit so I can put all the new stuff in it!”

“Well don’t sound so fuckin’ happy about it.”

“I am happy!” You call over your shoulder.

Truthfully, you’re actually little unsure- almost assuming there must be some sort of catch to Bakugou’s gift. Sure it’d be a normal gesture from anyone else, but this was him. He didn’t just do nice things regardless of whatever reason he claimed.

You grab the medkit, striding back out to find him leaning against your counter. His eyes follow you, focused and intent as you start packing the new things away. It’s a little intense honestly- you almost start to wonder if Bakugou even knows how to blink.

“Wow- this is the exact brand I like and everything.” You smile at him, tucking all the bandages away neatly. “How’d you know?”

“Noticed.”

“You noticed?”

“The packaging, idiot. ‘s not hard.”

“Okay, yeah, maybe not. But I didn’t expect you’d notice it while you were injured is all- oh, and speaking of, good job! Showing up here, not bleeding out and exhausted, I mean. It’s nice to see you not on the brink of death.”

“Yeah- just means you shouldn’t piss me off. I’ll kill ya for sure this time, leech.” 

His tone is a little weird- a little too light, almost teasing. It’s not until you look up at him that you notice- he’s joking. Bakugou Katsuki is making a joke, in your kitchen, and somehow smiling with very little argument beforehand. A part of you is sure that hell must’ve frozen over.

Still, you smile right back, rolling your eyes at him playfully. “Mhm, I get it.” You say. “You’re totally scary and mean. No need to threaten me any more with it.”

Bakugou just nods, seemingly very satisfied with your comment. You wonder if he knows you were being sarcastic, but knowing his ego, you’re not sure it even mattered anyway. You chose to say the words at all, and that was your worst mistake. 

You finish putting away all the medical supplies into your kit, organizing it neatly within the compartments. Bakugou watches you intently the entire time, not really moving much aside from taking his previous seat back on your kitchen chair. It’s a silent for a while, nothing but your little shuffling sounds and his quiet breathing- until he clears his throat, sighing and slumping forward against the back of your kitchen chair.

“You going shopping again soon?” He suddenly asks, voice pinched and terse. Like even bringing the subject up at all irritates him. “Gonna be out even later or whatever?” 

“I mean- yeah, some time in the next few days? Why?”

“Don’t.”

His tone is clipped- short and harsh like every other word he’d ever spoken to you, but his expression has shifted. There’s no pretense or tough act to follow his command. No front whatsoever. 

“That’s- that’s not really something you get to decide.” You finish unsurely. Something about him is making you nervous- the intensity over something so seemingly trivial. “Why’re you even asking?”

Bakugou straightens in the chair, dropping his arms from over the back. He rolls his shoulders, puffing out his chest with authority. “It doesn’t matter why I’m fuckin’ asking. Just do what I say and stay inside.”

“How many times have I told you this, you don’t get to make orders-”

“It’s not orders.” Bakugou sneers, mimicking your voice. Then he drops the posturing, tilting his head as his voice colors condescending. “I’m saying it’s dangerous, idiot. Quit being so goddamn stubborn.”

“I’m not.” You scrunch your nose at the insult. “And dangerous? Really? I’ve literally never been attacked, not once, in the entire years I’ve lived here. If it’s concern, I appreciate it, but I’m fairly confident I’m fine.”

“It’s- you even listenin’ to me?” He sneers. “I’m warning you. Tellin’ ya not to go out and do something stupid just to prove a stupid fuckin’ point. I’m serious about it- don’t.”

His tone strikes you as odd. Bakugou wasn’t the type to ask for anything. He didn’t bow to anyone or anything, but in that moment you could’ve sworn he was pleading with you. Like he knew something you didn’t. You start to realize you were right earlier, about the way his gift had a catch.

“Bakugou. Did you see something? Like, around here or-”

“No. Not yet.”

You want to tear your hair out. Once again, it seemed Bakugou had you pulling teeth with him, even though he was the one who showed up at your apartment in the first place. 

“Not yet? What does that even-” You sigh in frustration. “Look, if you know something, and that something is dangerous, then you need to tell me.”

Bakugou’s entire face to seems to scrunch up at that, but then he’s dragging a hand down his face and smoothing his features. When he looks up at you again, you can see the way his eye twitches. The way his jaw ticks when he leans forward.

“I can’t.” He growls, running a hand through his unruly hair. “If I could just fuckin’ tell you I would, but it’s not that goddamn easy. Even knowing in the first place is how they- just, just fuckin’ listen to me about this!” 

Bakugou tilts his head, catching your eyes with his hardened stare. His eyes are solid again, like strengthened steel as he looks at you. It’s almost harder to keep his gaze than it is to even try and look away.

It’s yet another stare off, and up until now, you’d won every match. You had seen him at his worst, had forced him to relent even if it was through brute force- but this didn’t seem like those other times. Between his clenched fists and merciless stare, it didn’t seem like surrender was even part of his vocabulary. 

In that moment, Bakugou was serious. More serious than you’d ever seen him before.  

“Yeah. Okay.” You say, nodding. “I got it- but I’m not sure what you want me to do exactly? My shift’s graveyard, so if the problem is it being dark and late, then I’m not sure what to tell you.”

Bakugou nods, but he doesn’t look exceptionally thrilled. He rolls his lips together, thinking for a moment, before he speaks. “Same time every night?”

“Yeah? Most nights?”

“Then it’s fine.” He nods once more to himself, shoulders relaxing slightly. “I’ll be there.” 

You look at him a little funny, squinting in absolute disbelief, but it doesn’t matter. Bakugou’s already made up his mind it seems. 

“What- like every night?” You ask. “You’re just gonna walk me home, every night?” 

“Got a fuckin’ problem with it or something?”

“No, but that’s- do you not have a job? I don’t- you really don’t need to go through all that trouble just to pay back whatever debt you think you owe me and-”

“Idiot.” He shakes his head, swearing under his breath. “This isn’t about a stupid debt, alright? It’s about your shitty quirk. And don’t start fuckin’ asking me to explain how, because I won’t, no matter how much you beg. Just believe me, and fuckin’ listen. For once.” 

You shrink back a little bit at that- your stomach dropping.

Your quirk? What the hell would your quirk have to do with anything? 

“Don’t give me that shit, woman. I already told you.” Bakugou gruffs suddenly. “‘m not saying anything else, so shut up about it alread-

“I didn’t even say anything!”

“Didn’t have to, leech, could see it in your beady eyes.” 

“Well excuse me for having a natural reaction!” You snap, squinting at him. “You can’t just walk in here, say something cryptic, tell me I’m in danger apparently, and then expect me to just be perfectly calm about it, alright? It’s not fair.”

To his credit, Bakugou does actually seem to mull over your words for a second. He huffs another breath, something exhausted and a little annoyed before he speaks again.

“Don’t go spiraling about it, leech. Nothing’s even fuckin’ wrong. Yet.” He gruffs. “All ‘m saying is that going out alone at night is a shitty idea, even for you, and you should stop doing it.”

“Okay. Fine. I guess. Even though it feels sorta backwards, I guess stuff like this is pretty much your job, huh?” You sigh. “But what did you mean earlier, about my quirk? What would it even have to do with anything? No one but you even really understands it.”

“Mhm, and we’re keepin’ it that way.” 

“That’s unreasonable. I can’t just, like, stop using it. It’s a huge portion of my job!”

“Tough.”

“Tough? Tough? Really? That’s all you have to say?” You huff in frustration. “It’s- Look, I can admit you probably have a point about the not going out at night thing, but I’m not just gonna stop using my quirk entirely and-” 

“When the fuck did I tell you to stop using it completely? I didn’t, so stop putting your words in my mouth, leech. What I said is you need to stop just fuckin’ usin’ it on everybody you see. Any idiot with half a brain cell could see how strong it is, alright?” He says. “So you need to figure out how to keep it to yourself. Stop drawing so much goddamn attention.”

“Drawing attent- Bakugou! I’m a nurse, alright? Not a celebrity. Not like you.” You huff, irritation coating your words. “I appreciate the concern, but I really, really, don’t think me doing my job, is gonna put me in danger! I hardly have control of it as it is, and I highly, highly, doubt my unimpressive skillset is gonna attract some crazy supervillain!” 

Bakugou just stares at you blankly while you rant, hardly even blinking as he lets you calm down. When your settled at bit, taking a deep breathe, he clicks his tongue at you.

“You already did.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said, you already did, you moron.” 

“That’s- are you- you’re kidding? Right? Please tell me you’re kidding!” 

“What the fuck? Of course I’m not, idiot.” He scoffs, arms flexing as he wraps them around the back of the chair. “I wouldn’t even be here right now if I was. Stupid shit like that is a waste of my fuckin’ time.”

At his words, you can feel the nerves rolling in. It seems your life only got crazier and crazier the longer Bakugou invaded it, but this was something else. You had no business being involved in his world at all, you knew that, and especially not like this. At the very center and seemingly the cause of the problem. It made you feel sick. 

“Oh wipe the dumbass look off your face.” Bakugou rolls his eyes. “You really think I’m that useless? Nobody is going to get you. If anything, it’ll just make it easier for me to catch these fuckers with you sittin’ out like bait all the damn time.” 

“Bait? I’m not being bait for you!” 

“Jesus, leech. That’s not what I meant and you know it, so calm the hell down.” Bakugou reassures. “I meant, they’ll get greedy and sloppy sooner or later. Maybe even do something really stupid like go after you- but it’s fuckin’ fine because I’ll be there. No villian worth anything is dumb enough to come after you in the day, and I’ll walk you home at night. So there’s no goddamn issue.”

“No issue? This entire thing is an issue! I feel like you’re not taking this seriously!” 

Bakugou’s eye twitches at that, and you see him huff, pushing the chair away as he stands. He nears you, solid steps against your kitchen tile until he’s just a few feet away. There’s fire in his eyes, raging and relentless as he towers over you, his broad shoulders almost blocking out the overhead light. His expression is pinched something harsh, shadows gathering under a jaw he sets sharp enough to cut steel. In the dim glow of your kitchen, Bakugou looks mean. Much, much, scarier than he’s ever been around you before.

“I am taking this seriously.” He seethes. “Those evil, sadistic motherfuckers are not going to get away with this shit- but this only works, if you do as I say. ‘m gonna blow ‘em to hell either way, and I’d rather  not do it with you tagging along as their idiot fuckin’ hostage. So you’re gonna stay in and not take any stupid risks. You understand? Leech?” 

A part of you wants to shrink for a moment, cower and collapse under the heat of his gaze. Bakugou is intimidation like you’ve never experienced before, and strangely enough, you find that brings a weird sort of comfort to you; because he looked furious, but he looked incredibly determined too. Like no force on the entire planet, divine or otherwise, could possibly save those villains from his wrath. 

“Yeah. Okay. I get it.” You say. 

“Good.” 

Then he backs off, taking and few steps back and shoving his hands in his pockets. The rage seems to melt off his face, running fluid down his nose until his eyebrows relax and his grimace goes smooth. You’d always thought he’d looked angry before, but compared to his previous expression, you realized you were wrong. As it looked now, around you, Bakugou might as well have been docile. 

“It’s- is there anything you can tell me about whoever this is?” You ask shakily. “I know what you said, but I can’t just throw myself into danger like this, alright? If it involves me, I need to know.” 

“You can’t. Knowing is the entire fucking issue.”

“What does that-”

“I already told you, I’m not telling you, alright? So fucking drop it.” 

“I can’t! How am I supposed to watch out for myself if I don’t even know what we’re up against-”

“We’re? No. We’re not up against anything.” He barks out. “You’re staying inside. I’m serious. No exceptions- that is the only fuckin’ way any of this’ll work. Don’t make it any goddamn easier for them then it needs to be.” 

“H-how do you even know any of this? Where is this even coming from? I didn’t even live anywhere near here until I met you, and even that was only months ago!”

“It’s not important how I know. I just do, alright? So stop makin’ this so hard and just quit fighting already. You’ll be fine if you just let me do my fuckin’ job.” 

You run shaky hands through your hair, trying to battle the anxiety coursing hot through your veins. A part of you wants to protest, to screech at him, but you’re not sure that would be of any help. Bakugou looked dead set on his plan already, like he’d already strategized ten steps ahead, and, when you thought about it, maybe he did. Nobody could become a top-ranking pro off pure luck, and concerning Dynamite? Well the skill behind the intimidating name was obvious. Bakugou had never been beaten. Not once in his entire career had he ever let somebody get away without injury. It’s a strange, frightening, bloody kind of bright side, but concerning your situation, you figure you’d take what you could get. 

And, when you thought about it, maybe his plan wasn’t all that bad. It was just laying low. You could do that. You could do that. 

Maybe. If you didn’t die of a panic attack first. 

“So- you thought you could butter me up with a gift and then drop a bomb on me, huh?” You ask tiredly, dropping your elbows onto your kitchen counter. You collapse into them, head in your hands as you slump. “Nice strategy, you asshole.” 

You hear him exhale something like a laugh behind you. 

“Don’t laugh!”

“Oi- quit your bitching. I told you- I’ll gonna kill them all, so chill the hell out already.” 

You turn to look at him, replying flatly. “I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to kill anyone. Even villains.” 

“Not literally, you bitch.” He grumbles. You hear steps behind you as he moves closer. “Just listen to me and you’ll be fine. Don’t go running off and trying to take care of it yourself. Don’t waste my time like every other dumbass civilian.” 

When you lift your head up again, Bakugou is leaning against the other side of the counter. He’s towering over your slumped form, and when you look up at him, he actually doesn’t look that pissy. You almost find that to be the strangest occurrence of the entire night. 

“Oh god no. No self-sacrifice here. You can do all the fighting, thanks.” You shiver. “Even the thought of it nearly makes me sick. I don’t think I could hurt anybody.” 

“Good thing. You’d be flat on your ass in seconds, leech.” 

“I would no- actually, no, you’re probably right.” You close your eyes, taking a deep breath. “God, I’m fucked, aren’t I?” 

“No. Don’t be so goddamn weak about this. You’re fuckin’ fine.” 

“What- you’re gonna protect me?”

Bakugou seems to nearly seize at your remark, his face pinching up into a snarl. If he was half an iota more juvenile you’re sure he would’ve made an audible gagging sound.

“Jesus fuck, shut your mouth.” He barks at you, cheeks flushing. “I’m gonna get ‘em, but it has nothing to do with you.” 

“Mhm. Yeah. Whatever. As long as they can’t get to me, I don’t care what reason it’s for.”

You fall into silence after that, and you try to focus on just your breaths. They feel less momentous, less anxiety-inducing, in your world that has quickly become very stressful. You can’t help the nausea settling in your stomach. You were scared.

You’d meant it when you said you couldn’t hurt anybody. Even in a life or death situation, you’re not sure you could do anything to cause harm. It just wasn’t in your nature, and the thought of being violent made you sick almost as much as the fear did. It was a strange sort of battle- one that left your fingers itching for somebody to heal. Somebody to soothe since you wouldn’t get any peace in your own mind it seemed. 

After giving yourself a few minutes of grace, just standing there in the fear didn’t seem like enough. You were overwhelmed, yes, but you weren’t alone. Even if he was bit of an asshole, you knew he’d keep his word. You wouldn’t get hurt- as long as you tried your best to be vigilant. With that thought in mind, you turned to Bakugou, trying your best to steady your voice.

“My shift ends at midnight. Or it’s supposed to. Most nights we run late, but there’s not much I can do about that.” You tell him. “I’m not sure if you already knew that or if that’s even helpful, but I figured I’d tell you anyways.” 

“So you’re listenin’?”

“Yes?” You ask confused. “It’s not like I could fight them off myself- not successfully like you could at least. What other choice do I have?” 

“That’s-” Bakugou shakes his head, disbelief rising for a second before he masks it. “Didn’t expect it, leech. Thought you’d fight like an idiot about it. You wouldn’t believe how fuckin’ stupid most civilians are. You tell ‘em they’re in danger and the morons just stand there and watch.”

“No, I know. I’m the one patching all those morons up, remember?” 

He nods, laughing something exhausted before he drags a hand down his face. It’s a strangely humanizing gesture- something devoid of anger and almost bordering genuine connection. You’d come to realize that there were cracks in his armor. Little bits of him that really did seem fond of all those people he worked so hard to save.

“So, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then. And every day afterwards.” You say, rolling your shoulders back. You stretch you arms out in front of you, sighing tiredly. “Congrats on the the promotion to being my glorified guard dog.” 

Bakugou scrunches his nose up in disgust, lip curling. “I’m not your fuckin’ guard dog.” 

“Kinda seems like it.”

“It doesn’t seem like shit, leech.”

“Yeah. Okay. Whatever you say.” 

“I’m serious.”

“I know. God forbid I make a joke, grumpy pants.” You mutter quietly, clapping your hands with finality as you change the subject. “Alright, I think that’s enough panic for the night, thank you. Is that all? Or are there any other horrifying tidbits you wanna share with me?”

“Nope.”

“Well that’s- actually, no, I was gonna say that makes me feel better, but it actually doesn’t. Not at all.”

“Don’t be a bitc-”

“Bakugou! What did I say about that word?”

He rolls his eyes. “Fine. Little bitch. Don’t be a little bitch.” 

It’s a strange thing to laugh at- an insult in the face of so much fear. But you do. His comment makes you laugh, slices the tension in your string wound far too tight. Bakugou seems satisfied at that, smiling slightly in return as he retrieves his jack and shrugs it back on. 

“Oh- you’re not staying? It’s late.” 

“Nah. Got patrol, leech.” Then he looks you up and down, squinting at the slippers on your feet. “Some of us actually got our lazy ass out of bed today.” 

“Hey! It’s my day off, you dick!”

Bakugou just laughs under his breath, nimble hands winding his scarf back around his neck. “You’re too fuckin’ easy.”

“Only because you’re dead set on being an asshole!” 

“Yeah? And?”

“That’s- don’t defend yourself!” You sputter, following behind him to the door. “You shouldn’t feel confident about that!”

He just shrugs, pulling open your balcony door with excessive force. He steps out, and the cold air floods in quickly, pinking his cheeks and the tip of his nose. Maybe it’s his lack of costume or his relaxed expression, but suddenly, you can’t help yourself with the words you say next. 

“Be careful, yeah?” You say. “I don’t wanna see you again until tomorrow night.” 

He looks at you a little strangely, tilting his head almost imperceptibly. Then he’s shaking it off, clenching his fist as a dangerous smirk rolls across his face.

“‘m all good. Bitches won’t even get a scratch on me.” 

You’re about to yell at him for word choice again, and he must see it in your eyes. Bakugou waves you off, laughing as he vaults on top of the balcony railing in one leap. There’s sparks popping in his palms, before he turns back once more, cheshire grin and fire in his eyes as he flips you off. Then he’s skydiving below the horizon line and out of sight. 

You curse him out, but your words are drowned out by explosions. 

When you walk back inside, rubbing the cold from your arms, you realize you left the first aid kit open. You latch it shut, but leave it on the counter just in case. You were being honest earlier- you didn’t want to see him again that night, especially not injured, but you’d help him if you had to.

At this point, it felt like no matter what you did, you just couldn’t get rid of him. 

--/--

edit: pls y’all i forgot to add the taglist when i originally posted ,,, omg this is so embarrassing whoops

taglist:  @fluffyviciousbunny @definitelynottrin @imsuperawkward @i-need-air @ahbeautifulexistence @brennabooz @jazzylove @flattykawadoorusmilkbread @katsuki-bakubabe @sorrythatspussynal @bakugouswh0r3 @cloudsgathering @un-limit-edd @thekatsukisimp @pollayra21 @the2ndl @officialtrashbusiness @waffleareniceandfluffy @monempathieetmoi @koiwoshinai @christianagrace9  @the2ndl @the-shota-king-masayuki @shy-panda02 @devastyle @shoto-supremacy00 @shotoful

[youarejesting]

Sea [1/2]

Beta: @lillielil @aroseforyoongi​ @seokjinssymphony​ @kpooplifeforever​ @explosiveranga​​ & my good friend Z (let me know if I left anyone out.) Rating: 17+ Pairing: Idol!Yoongi x Reader Genre: Action, Adventure, Angst, Fluff, Comedy, slow burn, slice of life. Words: 6.8k

Summary: After your plane to Korea takes an unexpected detour, you are stranded with someone you aren’t even sure speaks English. As the race begins to stay alive, emotions run high and tempers short. The unlikely contender in the survival race is love which snuck up on you both.

The thought of a thirteen-hour flight didn't bring you much joy. Why would it? Being trapped in a small box with wings, not to mention being stuck in said box with multiple people breathing recycled farts and eating some sort of wet styrofoam they called food that would most definitely give you food poisoning. Oh yes, what a joy it would be to be in a seat for hours on end, letting your skin slowly dry up. 

Arriving at the terminal, you stood waiting for them to start boarding. You would have been sitting if there was a single seat free. Seriously, some asshole had even dared to lay across no less than five and a half seats, his bag resting on the empty chair at the end. 

He was wearing all black and looked comfortable in his jeans and hoodie. His black cap pulled down over his eyes and you could see the bleached blonde hair sticking out from underneath. Big chunky headphones on his ears made it possible for this man to drown out the world around him.

You glared at his legs, growing tired, knowing that within a few hours you would be begging for the chance to stand up. If you were to take a mental count, there hadn’t been any nice experiences you could recall in regards to traveling on a plane.

Did that reflect the quality of service or your standard of air travel? No. Obviously, your standards were realistic, not expecting the flight time any shorter or the staff to give a foot massage or anything outrageous. 

You really didn't want any extra luxuries other than what was offered in the pamphlet — and yes, that meant you chose first-class — because if you were to suffer, you would do so in the best environment.

Unfortunately, the reality of it was that there was no better or more comfortable way to travel. Checking in, you would be boarding first before the other passengers, not really a privilege. However you got in line anyway behind the young man who had previously been lounging across the airport seats. He was holding up the line having lost his passport and you were getting more and more pissed. 

You were simply just having a bad day. 

A woman behind you started openly arguing, exclaiming that this man was not allowed to ride first class as he clearly wasn’t fit for it. Bringing up his style of dress and the headphones around his neck. You turned, glaring daggers at the woman until she became silent. 

Society taught people to judge based on appearance, that everyone fit into a category, never mind the old adage to ‘never judge a book based on it’s cover’. Stil, you were always respectful and treated others equally, maybe even getting to know a person that you wouldn’t in other circumstances. It always surprised you how much you enjoyed taking a risk and getting to know them.

Once you showed your ticket and passport, you traveled down the long hall towards the plane. You saw the man in front of you talking with another man. He seemed to respect him and was reading him a schedule from his phone. You raised your eyebrows and smiled at the young stewardess who welcomed you on board. Her hair was pristine in a tight bun and her crisp, dark blue outfit was paired with a red scarf.

Stepping over the small gap, you felt the cold of the air conditioning, yet the air still felt thick. There were three places you could go to feel this type of cold: the dentist, an airplane, or the movies. First class was spacious with only a single cubicle on either side of the aisle. You took your seat. It was like personal rooms where you could close a sliding screen for more privacy, even though you were sitting next to someone, you wouldn't be able to see them at all.

The seats were more like arm chairs that one could lay back completely in, made with a brilliant blue leather. The cubicle room was complemented in a similar shade but with red features. You had a tv and a tiny minibar that had a small selection of drinks and snacks.

The flight attendants took all the passengers through the safety instructions. You could practically write them at this point. However they added a few things you had never heard. You had never heard such in-depth instructions going beyond the general life jackets, floatation devices, and first aid kits. 

Never before had they told you about the airbags that would be deployed if you crash in the ocean. Apparently the emergency escape slides doubled as floatation devices and could hold up to one hundred and thirty people comfortably. They even explained how they detach these rafts from the fuselage and that they have ropes that allow them to be tied off to each other or the airframe. 

Distracted by a tired male sighing beside you, you wondered who would fall asleep during the safety messages. Sure they were boring, but even you pretended to care. When you turned to see the culprit, he was disappearing behind the plastic divider of his cubicle dragged by his long pale fingers.

Well, at least you had some privacy. It was something you were thankful for, you wanted to get comfortable, or as comfortable as you could.

Perhaps these new instructions and information were deemed irrelevant to domestic flights. Or perhaps it was for the very enthusiastic kid they led through the first class discussing more of the plane's anatomy. “What if a wing falls off?”

“The plane is really sturdy, the wing wouldn’t just fall off” She grinned, “Let’s see what the pilot is doing and we can get your mum a picture wearing the captain's hat!” 

After the flight attendants thanked everyone for listening, the plane took to the sky. You closed up all sides of your cubicle and requested to be only woken for meals. The stewardess was very diligent and for that you were grateful. 

The journey was nearing the six hour mark and all that one could see was clouds and the ocean. The collection of empty water bottles were a poignant reminder to relieve your bladder. 

You stood up and waddled determined to go to the bathroom. It was inconvenient to drink so much water but you didn't want to get dehydrated. 

Feeling much better, you took a few minutes to look in the mirror and moisturise as your skin was feeling particularly dry already. Startled from your self care routine by a light rapping on the door, you packed up your things and pulled open the door. Unfortunately, at that moment, the plane shook.

It was like something from a romance novel, the way you fell against him and yet, there was nothing elegant or poetic in the way you fell against him.

Your face slammed into his chest and his head hit the wall with a heavy thud. "Sorry, I'm sorry"

"Shibal" he said, his language was something unlike you have ever heard, it was rhythmic and sounded like a song. His voice was so low and rumbly it almost sounded like he was purring. 

You weren’t well versed in other languages or cultures, so you didn’t know what he was saying. This was your first time leaving your country. If it wasn’t for the damn holiday raffle at work, you wouldn’t have even left your house. Every other flight you had ever been on was domestic and therefore your suffering was short lived, but this flight was long and you were getting rather bored. It seemed your mind was reeling trying to absorb all that it could and currently that meant the poor man you had body slammed into the wall was under your perusal.

His body was thin unlike yours which was curvaceous. His hair was dark and shaggy making his pale skin almost ghostly. He had sharp cat-like eyes that were quite intimidating as they glared at you and his small downturned lips were yet to speak. He seemed like a man of few words. All this coldness was juxtaposed by his cute round nose. You could tell from his features that he was from Asia, but you couldn't pinpoint where.

Grabbing your shoulders, he started to push you off of him, when the plane shook again and you both fell back into the small bathroom. Your back hit the toilet, and a searing pain bloomed from the impact causing your body to lock up as it radiated through you.

The seat belt light came on. You both scrambled to your feet bumping into the walls, sink and each other from the unstable winds shaking the plane. Struggling back to your seats when the cabin pressure changed. There was a creaking sound and the plane started shaking. You immediately felt a sick sense of dread. The pilot spoke calmly about turbulence and requested everyone return to their seats. But the pair of you couldn't move down the aisle to your seats.

There was a sound like a car backfiring and someone from economy class shouted about the wing being on fire. Your grip on the young man's coat tightened and a terrifying sound like metal groaning filled the cabin. That didn’t sound like regular turbulence, you were sure of that.

Sharing a horrified look with the young man, you got up the courage to try to push off from the wall. Unsuccessful, you were once more pressed against the wall. The plane was plummeting. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted the emergency box. What was this emergency and what in that box could fix this situation?

"You need to return to your seats,” the stewardess said. The smell of smoke was strong and it filled the inside of the plane quickly. You hadn’t even seen the stewardess trying to climb through the plane. Her grip strained on the walls and seats as she fought against the force pushing her back. “We are making an emergency landing." 

The metal sound was louder. Shrieking like nails on a chalkboard, it pierced through the cabin. You watched as the side of the plane ripped completely off with the ease of someone removing the plastic off a new fridge. There was a feeling of being weightless before a drop on a roller coaster, and then it was like your stomach was left behind. The stewardess was sucked out from the cabin behind you. 

You and the young Asian man were sliding backwards down the aisle trying to find something to grab onto. The floor in first class was some sort of linoleum and gave you a nasty burn as you slid. It was like fire against your skin. As the pilot fought with the plane, you practically bounced off every seat. 

It felt like you were weightless for a brief moment as you were lifted off the ground, your back hit the roof before you smacked the floor again. All the wind had been knocked out of you. 

The pilots were fighting against the drop, so in the moment of calm before the plummet, you grabbed the leg of an economy class seat as it was bolted to the ground. You looked at the young man, watching the panic as he realized he was too far away to hold on and dangerously close to the large opening. He began slipping out of the plane, his hands flailing before clamping around your ankle. The two of you were almost hanging outside the plane. 

Everyone in economy class was panicking and wearing oxygen masks. No wonder you couldn’t breathe. Gasping for breath, you cursed yourself for liking all those action movies that made this look easy. 

“Hold on!” You all but screamed more to yourself than the poor guy holding your leg. He was being completely battered by the wind. You felt his hands slipping and you reached down with one hand to grab his wrist and he grabbed yours. He looked thankful.

“Shibal,” he groaned, his voice straining. Your body was being stretched. The cold metal was unforgiving, and it tore apart the skin on your palm. Your eyes were watering in protest to the wind and smoke that was drying them out.

The drink trolley that the stewardesses had been moving through the aisles had gotten loose and went flying down the plane. It hit an old man in the back of the head. You knew he wouldn’t make it, and speaking of, it was headed straight for you. You watched in fear, like some horrifying game of chicken as the trolley came for you. Thankfully, it bounced on the floor inches from your hand and flew out of the plane. 

It was a mix of flinching and the force of the wind that made your hand on the chair slip. You slid further out of the plane, grabbing the exposed shell of the plane with your free hand. Your other hand desperately clutching the young man's hand watching in horror as he smacked into the side of the plane unconscious. “Shit!” 

His body was limp and you had to do something. With all the strength you had, you tried to pull his flailing form closer to protect him. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the ocean quickly advancing. You were going to hit the water.

The breeze pressing against you was fierce. Your eyes were dry, making you think of your eyedrops in your carry-on luggage. You could see the water coming up quicker now; you tried to gauge what would be a survivable height. Knowing you had a higher chance of surviving freediving as opposed to hanging halfway from the plane, where you would both slam head first into the plane. You decided to take the leap.

Screaming in absolute terror as you watched the fast approaching water, you let go just in time. It was equivalent to a few stories on a building from the ground. Wrapping him in your arms, you pointed yourselves down deciding to break the fall. Lifting your free hand above your head like you were doing a high dive, you hit the water. It was such a shock, the liquid was so cold it caused your muscles to lock up.

Your adrenaline was pumping, and one of your arms felt numb and unresponsive. You swam oddly to the surface, gasping when you felt the air on your skin. He was unconscious, and you held his face out of the water.

The plane wasn't too far away and for now was on the surface of the water. The emergency exit inflatable slide, which doubled as a raft, had been deployed but no survivors seemed to climb out.

You swam in a side stroke to keep your damaged arm and the young man's unconscious form out of the water. You hoped he was going to be okay. The only thought in your head was making it to the raft and you were doing everything in your power to get there, even contemplating leaving him behind. But you weren't going to give up, a part of you wanted to prove you could do it.

Reaching the raft felt euphoric. Taking a deep breath you pushed him into the raft. Doing a quick check of his head and body, you noticed he was breathing oddly. You turned him on his side and tried to clear his airway. A little bit of water trickled out before you performed CPR.  Your saving grace came when he coughed and spluttered, placing him in the recovery position and hoping he would be okay on his own for a moment. You looked around for any more survivors. There was luggage floating around, and you picked up all you could from the water. 

Walking along the inflatable back into the plane, the water was not as high in first class. This was probably due to the hole in the plane in the economy. The right side being the only one of the inflatables that had inflated beside the plane. Keeping the plane precariously afloat balancing on two inflatables which had malfunctioned and inflated under the plane.

Moving quickly and wading through the icy water, you grabbed the emergency kits on the wall. You had passed by deceased passengers and tried not to look. It was eerie and unbelievable even though it had only just happened.

Bags littered the water and you guided them towards the exit and put them on the raft. You could save these people's possessions for their family, or there could be items inside that could be of use and save your life. 

You also noticed the flight attendant area and raided the cupboards as quickly as you could. You grabbed the medical kit, some slippers, a range of very thin blankets that were wet and even some snacks carrying everything back to the floatation rafts. As an afterthought you braved a second trip back into the plane to grab your and the other man’s overhead luggage as you knew he would likely appreciate it.

Finding a bunch of cell phones floating around the cabin. You grabbed them all hoping one would be waterproof. You found a few that were still turned on, but only one seemed to have some sort of signal. The plane creaked as you started making the emergency call. 

“Come on” you begged the phone to connect. The whole plane creaked again and tilted; it wouldn’t last long. You had desperately searched for survivors but there was no one obviously alive. You tried your best to check their vitals, but time was running out. Hopefully, you wouldn’t be cursed for pronouncing everyone dead.

"Hello, this is an emergency service hotline?" A voice cut through the silence, you looked at the phone about to cry in relief "fire, ambulance or police"

"Hello, we were in a plane crash, my name is y/n, we were on a flight from Los Angeles to Seoul"

"What is your location?" the woman said, confused by your description.

"The ocean" you hissed "we are on a life raft"

"How many people are with you, what are their names?"

"Just one. I don't know his name. He is asian. Um really thin, um, has dark hair and—”

"You seem to be breaking up" the emergency operator said with the voice cutting out. You looked down at the phone in your hand and sighed. Of course, if everything was going wrong, a phone in the middle of the ocean apparently won’t save you. You thought to yourself, ‘it is 2021 so why isn’t service available everywhere?’ Pocketing the phone you began making your way out the plane.

You headed back to the inflatable and made the decision to cut the plane free. Scared that it would bring the raft down with it. Grabbing more luggage from the water, you thought it best not to watch the plane sink. It would only make you feel worse.

The time went by slowly. It took hours for the plane to disappear. Even though you had promised yourself not to look, you had. Taking glances as the plane slowly sank and you drifted further away. 

The moment the plane was no longer in sight, you curled up and let the tears fall. The sun began setting and the heat turned into a bitter cold. Your wrist was still quite swollen, and you decided to wrap it as you drifted along. You had been so sure that there would be something or someone to see you drifting, and you would be saved. 

However one cold night became two, and then three, only breaking for the scorching heat of the day. 

You thanked yourself for watching all those ‘lost on an island’ movies and television shows; you had learned some things along the way. You also had your father to thank for always dragging you along to the volunteer emergency services programs, ones where you learned how to survive in a forest. At the time you thought it was super lame for your friends to go to nice hotels by the beach for their holidays and you were making some sort of mealworm dish while making stick shelters.

Going over the information you had in your head, you knew water was the priority. The instructor had said humans can go three weeks without food, three days without water, three hours without shelter and three minutes without air. 

The sun would dehydrate you quickly. You had made a small shelter with luggage and blankets to protect you from the sun. 

If you didn’t find land, you were going to have to make some sort of man-made evaporation device to create water. As it was, you were slowly getting the unconscious young man to drink little amounts of bottled water, for he too needed to stay hydrated. 

The man you were with had awoken the third day. He seemed a little freaked out about being alone at sea. You explained calmly, not wanting him to do anything drastic and he sat there processing things. 

You gave him a bottle of water and something to eat. The two of you continued drifting, not speaking a word to one another. You spent most of the time trying to craft something to float on the ocean and create clean drinking water. 

(This evaporation device floats on the ocean and mimics rain by the water droplets sticking to the plastic cover over the whole device when weighted in the middle it then drips back down into a bottle. I can find a reference picture if you need. [Here] [Here] [This one is like what I made in 7th grade camp])

But you couldn’t get the water to land in the bottle and the bottle to stay upright. He was no help, just laying in the shelter out of the sun. The raft was big enough for about one hundred and thirty people. And yet, the two of you sat close by and didn’t say a word.

You were covered in sweat and felt absolutely disgusting. It was time for you to get changed. What a stupid way to die, not from dehydration, or malnourishment, or even sun exposure, but from lack of hygiene. It was decided. 

“I am getting changed, don’t look,” you breathed, opening your carry-on bag.

“I don’t want look,” he muttered back in English and turned away. You quickly put on something that covered your shoulders and tried getting some rest. You didn't want to alarm him, but you both had consumed the last of the water and food rations.

It was late that night when you heard a different sound. The raft was moving a lot more. These were big waves and a part of you hoped it was not a tsunami or whale activity.

When the sound got louder, you were reminded of the beach when waves crashed on the sand. Looking up, you saw something big approaching. It was a body of land. Suddenly, your chances of survival greatly increased, now that you had a way to get out of the water. Nervous about putting your hands in the pitch black water, you looked at your companion peacefully sleeping and made the decision to paddle slowly. Anything to increase your chances of getting to safety. You eventually washed up on the beach, arms aching and stepped out to drag the raft onto the sand.

It was late and still dark, but you had to do something. Thinking that perhaps if you found someone, you would both be saved straight away. You waited on the raft until the sky lightened, and then you got to work collecting sticks and starting a small fire. You took the empty water bottles, hoping to find a clean water source or some fresh water that you could boil.

You walked to the highest point in sight, not seeing any signs of large predatory animals was a good sign. When you reached the top, you felt a sense of satisfaction as you had overcome the many trials and tribulations. You made it through a plane crash, survived on the water, and made it to land. 

Looking around, you saw something bone-chilling. This was an island and judging by the lack of people, houses or establishments, it was uninhabited. There was no civilization to be seen. You saw the tufts of smoke from your fire and tried not to cry. You were stuck here until someone could rescue you. 

Pushing the minor breakdown aside, you thought about water, it was important. Scanning the island, there seemed to be a small waterfall and tiny lagoon at the bottom. Since the rain, the waterfall was running pretty fiercely. You mapped out a path back to the beach which would detour past the waterfall.

By the time you reached the beach, your arms were exhausted with the weight of the now filled water bottles. He was awake and briskly brushing his reddened cheeks with his sleeves, turning his back to you. Sympathising with the man who probably thought you died, fell overboard or abandoned him.

You pulled out the metal pot from the plane and began boiling the water, in an attempt to kill any bacteria in it. The tide was going out. you knew you should be thinking about food as the next priority, but you wanted to sleep. Being primarily awake for a few days was taking its toll.

It took everything in you to get yourself to move and get to work. Taking large rocks, you carried them into the water until you were knee-deep. You were building a V- shaped wall, so when the tide came in, it brought with it fish and when the tide went out, they would be trapped. 

Pouring the now cooled water into the bottles, you started thinking about your plan. First, you thought about short-term needs, in case you were rescued soon, and then long-term needs, in the event you weren’t rescued for months or perhaps years. You paused, forcing yourself to think and accept the fact that there was a chance you would never be rescued.

The Asian man had gotten up and looked around hopefully. Handing him a now clean and sterile bottle of water, you frowned looking around with him. "There is no one here." He didn't say a word, staring at you while drinking slowly.

You huffed, trying to figure out how you two could survive on an island. He watched you fuss around trying to make a shelter out of sticks but it collapsed everytime. 

“Just no,” he muttered. You tried not to openly sneer at him. Grabbing the raft, you dragged it across the sand. As the raft was built for a large group, it seemed all you were doing was digging your feet into the sand. But little by little it was dragged up the beach thanks to the tide. It took some convincing but you had gotten help from the young man. The two of you madly struggling to lift the inflatable slide to a tilt against a tree. It was still inflated so you hoped you could use it for something else if needed.

Before the tide came in that evening, you ran out to the water. Your hopes were crushed when you found no fish and saw that the wall had broken. Carrying more large rocks into the water and making the V bigger and stronger, things weren't looking great, but you were trying to do your best. Cold from splashing around in the water, you went back to the shelter, but the fire had gone out by this point. 

Looking at the young man, you let out an exasperated sigh. Did he not care for his life or yours? Contemplating while gathering more wood, you realized that you had been doing all the work, while he was just lazing around. “We need more wood, come help,” you gestured for the young man to follow, but he sneered at the thought and leaned away from you.

“I just lay uh here and wait to…” he thought over his words, slowly forming an English sentence “die or be rescue,” he mumbled. You were too exhausted to argue. It could wait until tomorrow, and you would both freeze tonight. Maybe then he would understand the importance of working together towards a goal.

You felt absolutely disgusting. hearing the loud patter of rain, you walked down the length of the shelter. On one side was the raft, and on the other was the luggage, built into a wall. You took out some clean clothes and stepped into the rain. Peeling off your seawater and sweat drenched clothes, you stood in the dark and tried washing your body with a tiny travel soap you had found in a bag. 

You scrubbed your body of sweat and turned back to the shelter. Grabbing your towel, and wrapping it around your body, you stepped inside. He was laying on the makeshift bed you had prepared. He looked over, and when he saw you just in a towel, he rolled away. It was embarrassing, you who loved privacy and comfort were showering all exposed in the rain and getting changed in the same vicinity as a stranger. That night, he took the only dry blanket, so you laid there with wet hair and damp skin, shivering. 

You were thankful for the sun rising, and it took a few minutes for you to thaw enough to move, but when you did, you deemed it time for him to do some work. The two of you gathered sticks and leaves. He barely helped, and when he got back, he laid back down and fell asleep in the shelter.

Building a fire, with the wood, took some time as it had rained the night before. The leaves helped fuel the flames. The fire didn't have to be amazing, you just needed it for warmth. You also hoped some rescue teams might even see the faint smoke.

At the sound of your stomach calling for sustenance you got up and went to check the rock wall you made and found a fish swimming in the shallow water. You grinned, carrying it back making sure to stoke the fire. You were doing your absolute best with the emergency kit knife.

You must have looked pitiful, as your companion took over, filleting the fish with ease, and he even cooked it. The two of you had fish for breakfast and you felt satiated. You took some of the supplies and got ready to set out for food and fresh water. He was dressed and trying to follow you, so you let him carry some of the empty bottles.

Except he wasn't cut out for endurance, he got winded quickly. It reminded you of the time you passed out during a school marathon. Yet you made the best of the situation that you could, walking slowly until you came across some sort of fruit that the birds were eating.

You took a couple of pieces of rotten fruit and then carefully dug up the small plant and began carrying it back. He followed you back. You placed the plant down. Using your hands you tried to shift the dirt until you had a decent hole where you could plant the little fruit tree. Watering it with some of the water you had collected from the lagoon, internally wishing the plant would flourish. It was hard pouring the fresh water on the plant but you had to if you wanted food.

You mapped out an area and put sticks in the ground in a box-shape, in hopes of starting a garden of any edible plants found throughout the island.

You took the old fruit you collected off the ground, put it around the bottom of the tree, and gave a small hopeful sigh. “Hopefully it will break down in the soil and feed the plant. Our fate is in your hands little plant”

You spent another night sleeping in the makeshift shelter and had to decide on what to do, so you sat up and turned to the young man.

"Hey, are you awake?" He sat up, his eyes narrow, "what do we build? Shelter? or a garden for food?"

He blinked before choosing "Shelter?” you giggled at his confusion, not trying to be rude. He knew more English than you knew Korean and that was definitely a feat.

“A home”

“Home, food later" he shrugged

It rained heavier, bringing with it a sense of sadness. There was no one waiting for you, no one looking for you. The tears began falling and you tried to stifle the sounds. He was still and you hoped he didn’t hear the breakdown. You hoped he was sound asleep as this seemed to be his skill. You were sadly mistaken; he wasn’t asleep. He moved and draped a blanket over you. He only drifted off when you exhausted yourself from crying.

Waking up with your back pressed to his back, the two of you had shared a few airplane blankets. Your body was aching, from sleeping on the ground. It was time to build the shelter both of you had been discussing. You needed someplace safe from the elements and a place with some sort of makeshift bed. Sand felt so soft, but was uncomfortable to sleep on.

Standing in the morning breeze, you began thinking: “How does one even build a house?” If people can make houses with only the land, then so could you. You had no excuse.if it didn’t work, you could try again until you figured it out. You knew there should be some sort of foundation. You could build between two trees, or with a big pillar in the middle, or four walls like a traditional home. Whatever you were going to do, you needed the materials, namely wood, but it’s not like you could just rip a tree out of the ground with your bare hands. You needed tools. Unfortunately, this island didn’t have a hardware store. This wasn’t like minecraft; you couldn’t just create perfect tools from nothing. Or, could you?

You got to work trying to make some sort of mock Stone Age axe. It gave you blisters, but you had successfully chopped a single tree down. Getting the hang of chopping the trees with your primitive tool, you had four trees ready on the seventh day. You dug holes in the sand, but it wasn’t holding the trunks at all. They kept toppling over. He told you it wouldn’t work, and you only huffed in response. 

You would have to dig, until you found harder ground. This took another week, but you had four tree trunks in the ground in a modest square. You had started feeling dizzy while working, and your head felt clouded. It had been raining ever since you arrived, every night and lightly throughout the day, you didn’t think you had felt warm in a few days.

While making a wall frame out of trees, you started to feel dizzy again. You tied together the thin logs with multiple vines, and you hoped they would stay. The more you worked, the more your hands got torn up. 

You were tying the last of the frame, when you felt your body grow heavy. You were so tired. You thought you would die by the hands of the lazy man. With that, all other thoughts left you as the darkness crept in. 

The shelter was warm. There was a fire, and the blankets were wrapped around you, keeping you warm. Beside you was a bottle of water and a packet of painkillers. “Fever,” he sighed, “all work makes you uh… quick death?”

“Well, at least I am doing something. I have kept you alive, in the plane, in the water and now. I have done everything and what have you done other than act arrogant and lazy?” You said, “You haven’t even told me your name. We are stranded on an island. Maybe we will be rescued tomorrow, and it will be all in vain but what if it’s not tomorrow? What if it's months or a year from now?”

“What if never safe?” He argued, not looking at you.

“The point is, I don’t want to die in my twenties. I don’t want to die in general. I had dreams, to get married, have a family and be a loving wife. I was working a stupid office job, and I loved it. I won’t give up that dream. I will live with the hope that one day we will be rescued, and I will keep us alive goddamn it.”

“You don’t need to worry about me.” He gave a dry laugh, “I have no care. I was not… supposed be on the plane.”

“I need you alive. I can’t do this on my own. If-” You took a deep breath, “If you die, I might do something stupid. I can’t live an undetermined number of days on my own”

He went quiet. 

“Think about someone else for a change, it’s not all about you, Mister Asshole.”

“Yoongi,” he mumbled

“What?” You asked, too tired to be mad.

“My name is Yoongi.” He left the shelter, and you were left sobbing in the dark.

You woke up to Yoongi cooking fish on the fire; you were not expecting it. He hadn’t really done anything to help you. He mostly sat around, but the two of you ate together before you got to work. It was after a few hours you noticed Yoongi was gone again. It disheartened you that he was off doing whatever again, while you were working. You were completely exasperated by the young man, he maddened you, always on your mind. He was hot and mysterious and you hate that you couldn’t stop thinking about him because he acted nice once.

You began opening the suitcases hoping you wouldn’t offend anyone by going through personal belongings of the deceased. Clothes in all different sizes mens and womens, all different styles and one suitcase broke you, filled with tiny onesies and cloth diapers, dummies and ointments and medicines for a tiny baby. A pretty purple rattle with a cute butterfly on the handle.

You slammed the suitcase shut and pushed it across the sand to look at another day but for now you needed to step aside, the wound was too fresh. These were real people who died and yet why did you two survive, the most unlikely pairing with the worst odds and yet you survived when countless innocent lives were lost. It wasn’t fair.

A few days had passed, and you were trying to create something sturdy enough to withstand wind and rain with a roof and walls. You had plenty of resources, but you had to pick the right ones that would last. 

You thought about it and decided to use the raft to line the inside of the house in the tarp-like material. It was super long, so you could do the roof and the four walls and still have the whole underside left over. You would weave leaves and sticks together to make them sturdier and layer them on the outside. 

Putting your plan to action seemed easy yet tedious. You collected long palm leaves, removed the spines, and weaved the leaves tightly together, and laid them on the floor. The more you weaved, the faster you got. Painstakingly working every day, you rejoiced when all four walls, roof, and floor were finished and stable.

While you were doing all this, Yoongi was nowhere to be seen. He returned at night, as he always did. He looked unbothered by all the work you had accomplished that day. You finished up, and the two of you ate and went to bed, which was just a collection of woven leaf mats covered in some of the leftover tarp from the raft.

You had moved the items from the shelter into the new house area. The two of you sat on the remaining raft fabric. “I made a bed out of leaf mats and covered it in the leftover material.” 

Yoongi seemed impressed looking around, “잘 했어.”

“Jal haess-eo?” you repeated the sounds “What does that mean?”

“Uh… good work” He took your hands and pulled out a small succulent leave from his pocket snapping it and squeezing out the liquid inside. Applying it to the cuts and scratches on your hands gently. You noticed his hands were rough too, for he had cuts and blisters littering the his palms as well. 

“Where did you find aloe vera?” you asked curiously. What had he been doing?

“Near the…” he made an action with his hand “폭포”

“The what?” You laughed, and he cracked a slight smile.

“Water shaaaa!” he made the sound and gesture of water falling. You laughed hysterically. He was so cute, when you got to know him.

“Waterfall?” you prompted, checking that was what he had meant.

“Ah waterfall!” he nodded, “Near the waterfall”

“What did you call it?” you said. You were genuinely interested. He had been trying his best to communicate with you in your language, so maybe you could learn some of his to ease the burden “Pog-o”

“폭포” he corrected. 

“Pogpo” You smiled at him. he seemed a little happy that you were giving his language a try. “How do you say good night?”

“안녕히 주무세요” he said and you blinked shocked, so he grinned,speaking slower in syllables “Ann-yeong-hi ju-mu-se-yo.”

“Annyeonghi,” you repeated. He seemed eager to teach you more, so you stayed up as long as you could, learning Korean phrases until you both fell asleep.

[Part 2/2] coming soon...

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[icefire149]

30 and destiel?

Hi Sam! Thank you soooooooooo much for this one. This was incredibly fun to write. It ended up a bit longer than I planned, but I hope you enjoy it <3

#30 - Too quick, mumbled into your scarf

“Dean, you really should come inside. It’s too cold.” Cas stopped at the nose of the impala. He rested a light hand right above the driver’s side headlight.

Sighing, Dean turned his attention away from the night sky. He’d been leaning against baby’s door for a while, watching the clouds roll in. “That’s a bold statement from someone who doesn’t get cold.”

Cas rolled his shoulders back a bit, standing up straighter. His head tilted questioningly. “I still remember vividly what being too cold felt like.”

Dean visibly winced at that. “Okay.” He raised his hands in surrender, but his fingers felt wrong.

“What’s wrong?” Cas closed the distance between them. His eyebrows pinched together.

“Nothing, just got too cold….I think.”

He wrapped his hands around Dean’s. “Hence, why I suggested you come inside in the first place.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Dean rolled his eyes with a huff. He could feel Cas’ grace flowing through every atom of his being, shielding him from the cold. “You’re always right. Thanks mom.”

Exasperated, Cas shook his head, but he pulled their hands an inch closer. He gently turned Dean’s hands over like he was inspecting every cell of skin. A soft smile tugged at the corners of Cas’ lips. “Jokes aside, much like your mother I did build this body with my own….well, more than two hands, but you get my point.”

Dean curiously leaned forward. “Dude, how many hands do angels normally have?”

“That’s not important.” Cas lowered their hands so they rested at their sides, but he still didn’t let go. He gave Dean’s hands a squeeze instead. “My point is that it would be a shame to ruin my hard work with frostbite.”

And then, Cas withdrew his hands and the chill of the autumn night flooded into Dean’s bones like a broken dam. His brain felt momentarily scrambled, but he wasn’t sure if it was from Cas’ words or the absence of his touch. Before he knew it, Dean was ushered inside the motel room.

The lock clicked behind them and Jack sat up. He’d been laying in the center of the bed farthest from the door. “Sam called. He said that him and Eileen are aiming to meet us tomorrow if the weather isn’t too bad. Did it start to snow yet?”

“No,” Dean shook his head disappointed. “Soon though. I could feel it in the air.”

“I’m surprised you could feel anything at all,” Cas mumbled while he crossed the room to sit on the corner of Jack’s bed.

“Enough already.” Dean kicked off his boots and flopped onto the other bed in their double. He knew that he needed a shower to ideally warm himself up, but for now this was nice. “How much snow do you think we’re gonna get?”

“I can look that up right now,” Jack answered eagerly. He reached for his phone on the nightstand.

“You don’t have to,” Dean said, staring up at the ugly, stained ceiling tile. “What’s your gut instinct? I’m thinking 3 or 4 inches. Nothing too much, but enough to blanket everything in white when we wake up.”

Jack put his phone down on his lap. “Oh, this is a game.” He turned to his dad. “Castiel, what do think?”

“I-uh, I don’t know.” He stood up and walked over to the window. Everything still looked the same, but he wouldn’t be shocked if it did start to snow any minute now. “I’m hoping it’ll be a dusting. Neither of you packed for snow.”

“Well ya win some and ya lose some. It happens, and besides Jack’s too much angel to let a little snow stop him.”

“Thanks,” Jack smiled. He picked his phone back up and laid back down on the bed.

Dean rolled to his side to face Cas. He raised an eyebrow. “See. No big deal.”

“You really should pack for these kinds of situations. At the very least you should keep some hats, gloves, and scarves in the trunk.”

A small chuckle escaped Dean. “No one’s bundled me up that much since...well, my mom.”

The volume of his voice lessened enough that Cas stepped forward and cautiously sat on the bed’s side. “Do you still remember much of it?”

Dean shook his head, and then rolled onto his back. He couldn’t look at Cas while he searched his memory. “I’m not even sure if it’s real….or a dream I latched onto as a kid.” His voice fell to a hushed tone.

“Tell me about it.”

“It’s not much.” Dean closed his eyes. Mostly he could see her smile. It was like she held their whole family’s supply of happiness in that smile. “I remember seeing so much white that I wasn’t sure if I could remember green anymore.”

There was a light chuckle above him. Dean cracked an eye open and caught the fond smile hooked on Cas’ face. The angel darted his gaze away, and Dean snapped his eyes shut again. His skin started prickling with heat.

“Mostly,” Dean continued after clearing his throat. “I remember her winding a big scarf around my neck and then my face. And then….how nice it was to keep my face hidden from the cold.”

“It was like she was wrapping you up in her love,” Jack mused out loud.

Dean’s whole body stiffened. Somehow he’d forgotten his presence. Slowly, he turned to peek over at Jack.

He wasn’t looking at anyone in particular. Jack’s eyebrows were furrowed. “I don’t have….I, um...do you think my mom would’ve done the same?”

Something tightened in Dean’s chest. It was hard to remember sometimes that Jack was still just a little kid. Hell, he was probably the same age as Dean in the memory he was recalling. His bottom lip twitched. “Yeah, kid. Of course.”

-

“Dean. Dean. Dean. Dean, wake up.”

He opened his eyes to see Jack staring out the motel window. “Whaaat?”

With a wide grin, Jack looked at him over his shoulder. “It snowed. Come look!”

Dean kicked the blanket off and pulled himself out of bed. Stiffly, he stopped next to Jack and saw the entire parking lot buried under a few inches of snow. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Do you think it’s enough to build a snowman?”

“No,” Dean rubbed at the back of his neck. He went back over to his bed and sat down. “I mean, maybe. Don’t know if it’s the right kind of snow.”

Jack turned to face him. He frowned.

“When we’re back at the bunker, you can build a whole army if you want. Okay?”

And just like that, Jack was beaming. He went back over to his side of the room and busied himself with his phone.

Dean glanced around the room. His head still felt fuzzy from sleeping. “Where’s Cas?”

“I don’t know,” Jack answered, not looking up from his phone. “He left a note saying to wait inside until he got back.”

Rolling his eyes, Dean got ready for the day. He was tying his boots when the motel door opened, letting an icy gust into the room.

“Sorry, that took longer than I expected.”

Cas stopped in the center of the room. Dean’s eye couldn’t help but stare at the single plastic bag in the angel’s hand. His eye then trailed up to the new piece of clothing around Cas’ neck: a scarf. It was orange and red with ugly, giant pom-poms at either end.

Jack excitedly flew out of the bathroom at the sound of Cas’ voice. “Where did you go?”

With a soft smile, Cas handed the bag to Jack. “I thought I’d pick something up for you.”

“Thank you,” Jack answered running his hands across the scarf he pulled out of the bag.

It was red and purple, and Dean couldn’t look at them a second longer. Clenching his jaw, he exited the room and regretted it immediately. The air was cold, and his hands were already sore thinking about all the ice he was gonna have to scrape off of baby.

He’d just gotten the brush out of the trunk when he heard the crunching of footsteps approaching.

“You left far too quickly.”

Dean tried to smile, but his mouth felt wrong. He shrugged. “Felt like you and the kid were having a moment. Besides I really need to get baby ready to go.”

Cas sighed, and his head tilted to the side. “I know, but….” He started to unwrap the scarf from himself. His eyes didn’t leave Dean’s for a second. “you didn’t wait for me to give you this.”

“You don’t need to give me your scarf, Cas.”

The corner of Cas’ mouth pulled until the faint glimpse of white could be seen. Blinding, like all the snow and ice surrounding them. “This isn’t mine. I bought it for you.”

Dean blinked.

“Luckily, I had a feeling-” Cas began. He looped It around Dean’s neck. “that you’d be out here digging the car out-” He carefully wrapped it again, and again. “before I got back. So-”

Cas adjusted the fabric in places so Dean could squish his face deeper into the fabric for warmth.

Already, only Dean's eyes and the top of his head was uncovered. He could smell the familiar scent of Cas' favorite coffee order as he breathed in.

“I figured that I’d warm it up for you.”

Dean felt unable to speak. Like his tongue wasn’t made for making sounds anymore. The scarf’s warmth sank into his skin and the only thought coming to mind was that: Jack was right. He was never more grateful than he was in that moment for that scarf obscuring the shape of the next three words his mouth took.

Ask me more writing prompts (I’m using these as warm ups so can’t guarantee the speed I post in)

[shuadotcom]

Crystal Snow | JJK

❅ Summary: When you join Jungkook and the rest of the guys for some fun in the snow, he can’t help but feel jealous. ❅ Pairing: Jungkook x Female!Reader ❅ Genre: Fluff, slice of life, idolverse ❅ Rating: G ❅ Warnings: None! ❅ Word Count: 1.6k ❅ A/N: So this is an old drabble I re-wrote and was going to finish in time for holiday bingo, but that didn’t happen oops. I figured I’d finally finish it in honor of the snow in Korea this week!

Snow is everywhere, covering buildings and bus stops and cars. It blankets the streets of Seoul so heavily that everything around the city is silent. There’s barely anyone out and about with the snow so heavy and the sun setting, which makes it the perfect time for BTS to be out in public.

The seven over-excitable men hurry to the park nearest to their dorm, plastic sleds in tow.

"Took you guys long enough! Do you know how long I’ve been waiting here?!" You whine. You’re bundled up in a white coat with a matching scarf coiled around your neck. A bright blue beanie sits on your head with flecks of snow still sitting unmelted on the fabric. The seven men all break into identical grins as they wave at you.

Jungkook sprints ahead of the group, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you into a hug. A few giggles slip out when your feet leave the ground as you cling to his neck.

"Koo put me down! I’m too heavy!" Jungkook obliges, but not before stealing a kiss from your lips.

“No way. You’re perfect.” He murmurs and nuzzles your cold noses together.

"Ew, you guys are gross," Seokjin complains, nudging Jungkook out of the way to get a hug of his own. "You act like we all don't know she's your girlfriend, Jungkookie. No one's going to steal her from you."

"Yeah, and besides, it won't be stealing if she comes to me willingly," Jimin smirks at you and sends you a wink before pulling you in for a hug. You laugh and roll your eyes at him, while Jungkook stares daggers at the back of his hyung’s head.

Yoongi comes up next to him and nudges him in the side. "He's kidding, Jungkook. None of us are going to take Y/n from you, okay?" Jungkook puffs out his cheeks and nods at the older man. Of course, he knows that. That doesn’t mean he likes when they joke around like that with you.

"Okay, before Jungkook kills us all and buries our bodies in the snow, what say we go sledding first?" Hoseok speaks up, noticing the youngest’s grip on your coat sleeve. "The last one to the tree over there has to sled with Namjoon!" With a yell of 'hey!' from the leader in question, everyone takes off towards the biggest tree in the middle of the park.

It's not that Namjoon is bad at sledding per se. He just isn’t good at steering. Seokjin had been his willing partner the year prior, and both men ended up stuck in a snowbank when Seokjin told Namjoon to go left, and he had gone right.

The eight of you all but collide with one another to get to the tree, and in the end, Jungkook trips over his own two feet and is the last to make it.

"Oops, sorry, Jungkookie! It looks like you get to ride with Namjoon." Taehyung shrugs and sends Jungkook a smile that says he most certainly is not sorry for his loss.

The next few minutes are spent with the rest of the group dividing into pairs as Yoongi hands out everyone’s sled. Jungkook walks next to Namjoon as you all trek up the highest hill in the park. It’s a few feet up, which allows enough speed to make turns while racing down it instead of just being a straight, boring drop.

Upon reaching the top, everyone gathers with their partner and gets themselves ready. Jungkook scans the group and finds you being helped onto the sled by Seokjin, who you’d be riding with. He pouts as he watches him adjust your scarf, feeling jealousy fill him. The more he thinks about it, the more he thinks it isn’t fair that he’s unable to sled with his own girlfriend.

"Jungkook, did you hear me?!" He jolts when he hears the booming voice next to him. He turns and is met with Namjoon's intense stare.

"What?"

"I said, do you want to steer the back or the front?"

"Front," he answers immediately, recalling that last year's incident was caused by Namjoon operating the front end of the sled.

"Ready?!" Jimin calls out once everyone is seated. "One...two...three, go!" As soon as the word leaves his mouth, he and Taehyung take off first down the hill in their sled. There are a few shouts from the other two pairs as one by one, they both follow behind the duo currently in the lead. Jungkook watches as you and Seokjin zip away, and he feels a jab through his layers of clothes.

“Let’s go, Jungkook!”

Oh yeah. He’s supposed to be racing too.

He helps Namjoon push their sled forward, the frigid air starting to whip in his face as they move. He momentarily forgets why he had been sulking as he leans left and right to control the piece of plastic under him.

He and Namjoon started last, but they pass Yoongi and Hoseok in the blink of an eye. Jungkook quickly catches sight of your familiar blue beanie and sees you and Seokjin only a couple of inches in front of him. His eyes are locked on you as you tilt forward to increase the speed of your sled, and Jungkook does the same, determined to catch up.

If he had been paying attention, he probably would've heard Namjoon calling his name. He also would've seen the snowbank in front of them before they ended up smacking into it face first.

Jungkook could vaguely hear the laughter of his friends around him as he lies there, letting the snow soak into his clothes and hair. It isn’t until he feels a pair of hands tugging on the back of his coat that he attempts to move. The first thing he’s met with is his favorite pair of eyes staring at him with worry.

"Jungkook, are you okay?" Your mouth is turned downward in a frown as you look him over to make sure he isn’t injured.

"I'm fine." You help him to his feet and begin brushing off the snow from his shoulders and hair, mumbling about how he needs to be more careful and pay better attention. He barely listens to you, though, as he’s more interested in how unbearably cute you look when you fret over him.

"Well, it looks like you're the new sledding jinx," Hoseok says, approaching the two of you. He leans over and punches Jungkook in the arm, the younger frowning in response.

"Yeah, and Jimin and Taehyung are the self-proclaimed 'sledding kings.’" Yoongi rolls his eyes.

"Which means they're never going to shut up about it." Seokjin jerks his head in the direction of the two in question, who are packing mounds of snow together in the distance. "Hey, what the hell are you two doing over there?!"

Jimin scoffs and turns to look over his shoulder. "I will insist you all address me as 'Your Majesty' from now on. Tae and I are no longer peasants like the rest of you." He brushes his gloved hands together to rid them of excess snow before he turns and sits on his snow throne. Taehyung copies his actions, and they both look at the rest of the group.

"Now," Taehyung starts, "Since we are the sledding kings, we have a few requests. Our first is that Jin hyung prepares us a dinner of our choice when we go home later." He waves his hand in the older man’s direction, who, in turn, begins yelling about not being their personal chef.

"Secondly,” Jimin begins, talking over a still complaining Seokjin. “We cannot rule over the frozen kingdom on our own. We need a queen to rule with us." He jumps up and quickly grabs your hand.

"I don't think so!" Jungkook yanks your other hand and tugs you back towards him, making you fall into his arms with Jimin nearly tripping in response.

The two men have a momentary stare down before Jimin relents and releases you. "Fine. " He recovers swiftly, immediately launching into something about appointing Hoseok as a court jester.

Jungkook turns and beelines for the park exit, tugging you behind him before you can hear anymore.

"Jungkook, where are we going?"

"Back to the dorm. I'm cold and hungry, and there's snow in my pants." You let out a laugh and hold on tighter to Jungkook's hand.

"Whatever you wanna do is fine with me as long as I get to spend time with you."

Jungkook stops abruptly, making you run into the back of him.

"Jungkook, wha-" He turns and grabs your face in his hands, pulling you into a kiss. Even though it’s cold outside and both of your cheeks are freezing, the two of you feel nothing but warmth running through you as your lips move against one another. The kiss is lazy and sweet, and Jungkook would stay here like this all night if a sudden gust of icy wind hadn't chosen this moment to hit him right in the face. You shiver in his arms, and he pulls away to tighten your coat around your body and lay his arm over your shoulders.

"Come on. The quicker we get home, the quicker we can get warm." You nod and rest your head against him as you walk. You had both been excited to go out with the guys and play in the first snow of the year, but the idea of just the two of you curling up in bed under a blanket with hot chocolate sounds even better.

[owlheartt]

Hey guys guess who finally finished chapter 4 of Star Sanses Extended? Anyways this chapter is called Lunch & a Game

Ch 1 on AO3 this chapter on AO3

Perhaps Papyrus should’ve picked a game he was more familiar with. As it turns out, Munchkin was… a competitive game. To put it lightly.

“I place a curse on Ink.” Error announced, grinning. Dream brought his hand up to his face and massaged the bridge of his nose.

“Error, first of all, you want to save your curses until the end of the game-” Dream began.

“I’ve changed my mind. I curse Dream.” Error said, his grin switching to a scowl.

“ERROR, PERHAPS YOU COULD SAVE THE CURSE CARD FOR WHEN YOU’RE MAD AT SOMEONE, OR WHEN YOU CAN WIN.” Papyrus suggested.

“Yea, and I’m mad at Dream.” Error said, giving Papyrus a “duh” look. Error was exhausting.

“Alright. What’s the curse.” Dream said, sighing. Error held up a card, facing Dream. Papyrus leaned over a bit so he could read it too. ‘Curse! Lose the Footgear You Are Wearing’. Papyrus threw a glance at the cards on the table in front of Dream. None of them were even Armor, much less Footgear. Dream glanced down too, his golden eyelights flitting to his cards then back to Error. “You do realize that I-”

“I don’t fucking care! You’re cursed!” Error snapped. Dream took a deep breath (his 10th in the 4 minutes they’d been setting up) and took the curse. Then he dropped it in the discard pile, maintaining eye-contact with Error.

“Fantastic.” Dream said in a honey-coated voice. “That there was the effects of the curse. Ink! Your turn!” Error was visibly stumped (Papyrus could’ve sworn there was a little loading button in front of his face), then Ink distracted them.

“I KICK DOWN THE DOOR!!!” Ink yelled, slamming his hands on the ground in front of him. One eyelight was an orange target and the other was a blindingly gold star. At least Ink was enjoying this game. Dream reached out and flipped a card at the top of the deck, revealing a monster card.

‘Level 16 - Hippogriff’ the top read. Ink’s bravado snapped away.

“Hey Dream..?” Ink said.

“...Yes?”

“What level am I?”

“1.”

“Oh.” Ink scrunched up his face with one eye light turning a sky blue question mark. “Does that mean I lose?”

“If you stick around to fight it, then yes, you’ll lose.” Dream explained as patiently as he could. “But there’s an option to run away. Look, right below its name, it says ‘Will not pursue anyone of Level 3 or below,’ Paper, could you check to see the rules for fleeing?”

“OF COURSE FRIEND!” Papyrus snached up the rules and opened up the paper. Let’s see… Fighting Multiple Monsters, Asking For Help, there! Running Away. “IF NOBODY WILL HELP YOU…”

“Just read how to run away, please.” Dream said.

“ROLL THE DIE. YOU ONLY ESCAPE ON A 5 OR BETTER.” Papyrus looked up at Ink. He was juggling the dice.

“Squid!” Error snapped, causing Ink to drop one of the dice in his eye socket.

“Yes?” Ink said politely.

“Roll the fucking die.”

“Ok!” Ink grinned, setting the rest of the dice down. Then he shook his skull to the point that Papyrus was worried it would come right off. After a few moments though, the die that had been dropped inside flew out of Ink’s eye socket, righteously hitting Error in the skull.

“Fucking Void, Squid!” Error said, bringing a hand up to rub the madly glitching area.

“It’s a 3, what does that mean?” Ink asked, holding up the die.

“THIS IS WHEN ‘BAD STUFF’ HAPPENS!” Papyrus said.

“Well duh,” Error said.

“NO, I MEAN THE ‘BAD STUFF’ ON THE CARD!” Papyrus explained. He put down the rules then held up the card. “YOU ARE STOMPED AND CHOMPED. DA DA DA DA, STARTING WITH THE PLAYER ON YOUR RIGHT, EACH PLAYER MAY TAKE ONE TREASURE CARD FROM IN FRONT OF YOU OR (WITHOUT LOOKING) FROM YOUR HAND.”

“Well I don’t have any Treasure cards in front of me.” Ink said.

“Wait, it says that it won’t pursue anyone of Level 3 or below- maybe that was an automatic escape for Ink,” Dream said, pointing to the part of the card he had read aloud before.

“What does it matter? Make a decision and let’s move on. I don’t want to listen to you mistakes blathering on about the rules forever.” Error said, glaring at the rule sheet discarded on the floor. Papyrus clapped, the sound muffled by his gloves.

“HOW ABOUT THIS: HOUSE RULE! IT DOES MEAN HE ESCAPED.” Papyrus smiled, proud of himself. Dream nodded distantly.

“Alright. Ink, you fled, discard the Hippogriff.” Dream said. Ink picked up the card, fumbling it a little, and moved it to the discard pile. Dream watched him, then spoke. “My turn.” He flipped over the top card, revealing a Level 2 Pit Bull.

“Whacha gonna do goldy? You’ve only got one level.” Error said, taunting. Dream sighed and pointed to a card in front of him. ‘+3 Bonus - Huge Rock’ it read.

“I have 4 Combat Strength total- I win the battle and get 1 Treasure.” Dream dropped the defeated monster in the discard pile before pulling a Treasure card. “Paper, your turn.”

The game went on like that, Error attacking the others as often as he could, Ink always having to be walked through his turn, Dream calmly directing the game (if not with a bit of spite for Error), and Papyrus simply enjoying himself. Really. Despite the seeming chaos, the cards were amusing and the interactions felt… special. He had only ever played games like this with his brother. And Sans was special and important - no doubt about it! But… now Papyrus was playing with his friends. Friends. Sure, Error was barely being civil, but he was still participating. Maybe… maybe the multiverse was Papyrus’s calling. Maybe it was where he belonged and where he would finally make friends.

After 15 minutes (give or take) Sans announced that lunch was ready. They agreed to return to the game later, then went to the kitchen where Sans was slouching next to a pot of mac and cheese. It was the cheap stuff, the kind that all you really had to do was heat up. Either way, it was good enough, and it didn’t look burnt. Papyrus snached up one of the bowls his brother had stacked and a plastic fork from the counter before remembering he was a host. Papyrus grabbed the rest of the bowls and started passing them out along with forks. Forks that looked suspiciously like Grillby’s take-out forks that Sans said he’d thrown away.

After everyone had a bowl, Sans asked Papyrus to serve while he went to get some chairs. The brothers typically ate on the couch, but they wouldn’t all fit on it, especially with the distance Error liked to keep from everyone else. Papyrus scooped mac and cheese into each bowl, though Error scowled hard enough that Papyrus just gave him a little.

“Feel free to get more when you’re done!” Papyrus said, smiling. Ink was already shoveling his lunch into his face, which made Papyrus laugh a little internally. Error took a shortcut (it mostly looked like Sans’s, but Error’s was glitchier) out of the kitchen, and Papyrus could see his scarf hanging over the couch moments later. Dream nudged Ink, gently guiding him to the table with the skeleton brothers’ pet rock as a centerpiece. Sans reappeared, dragging a few chairs that looked a bit too much for him.

Papyrus quickly dropped his mac and cheese on the table before rushing over to help his brother. The brothers set up the chairs (Dream thanking them and the two chaos bringers focusing on their lunch) before settling themselves down. Sans let out a long breath, drawing everyone’s attention to him.

“so. may i have an explanation now?” His white eyelights scanned the room, taking in his guests.

“Ah, right, I’m so sorry,” Dream said in a rush. “I’m… ah… how about we start with introductions! Hello, my name is Dream. I’m the guardian of all positive feelings in the multiverse. This is-”

“sorry buddy, did ya say ‘multiverse?’” Sans cut in.

“Did I forget to mention that bit?” Dream shot a look at Ink, seemingly reflexively. “How familiar are you with the concept of a multiverse?”

“vaguely,” Sans said, waving his hand. “a buddy of mine an’ i talk about it every now an’ then. she’s more invested than i am.”

“Yada yada there’s a multiverse yada yada this is the true timeline something something the three of us are abominations.” Error said languidly. Dream’s face went blank and he blinked in surprise (or confusion, Papyrus couldn’t tell). Sans just raised his eyebrows. Papyrus couldn’t help but feel like he’d been thrown for a loop. Abominations? True timeline? Were there… false timelines? What defined false? Papyrus just thought his home was the original, not the “only right one.”

“I- no,” Dream said, holding up a stiff hand. He took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. “This timeline, Undertale-”

“sorry ta cut ya off buddy, but i’m just gonna grab a notebook real quick.” Sans stood up and walked over to the wall behind the TV. When he reached it, he blipped right through, before appearing again in his chair with a blue-covered notebook and a black mechanical pencil in his hands. “‘pologies, feel free to continue.”

“Right. This timeline, called Undertale- do you need me to spell that for you?”

“nope.”

“Undertale is the original. Its creator is a creature called Toby Fox, I’d recommend asking Ink if you want more details about that.”

“OOH OOH OOH!!!! Are we talking about creators?!?!?” Ink leaped up, fumbling his bowl, the mac and cheese miraculously staying inside (not that there was much left).

“Not right now, Ink,” Dream said calmly. The disappointed skeleton dropped back to his seat, the poor chair rocking a little. “All other timelines are a variation of this one, more or less. Some, specifically Error, consider it the ‘one true timeline.’”

“I’d be happy to elaborate if you numbskulls want,” Error growled. It sounded reminiscent of a cat with the added glitches.

“thanks for the offer, kiddo, but I’d like to know a bit more of what this guy has to say first. dream, ya said your name was?”

“Yes. My name is Dream. As I said, I am the guardian of positivity. This is Ink, he’s the guardian of the multiverse itself, and he helps creators. Over there is Error, he’s… this is going to sound pretty bad, the destroyer of timelines.” Dream winced. Sans glanced over to the glitching skeleton. Papyrus looked over at Error too. He was just sitting there, and he didn’t look nearly as dangerous as he had before. He was just a guy, not a deadly… er, what could he be called? Papyrus had instinctively reached for the word “psychotic,” but that would be using the term wrong. Error just had anger issues. Well, maybe he had more, but Papyrus wasn’t about to pry.

“that would explain a lot, huh,” Sans said, widening his lazy grin. “so, oh dear destroyer of timelines, why is mine still here?”

“It’s the true timeline, haven’t you been listening?!” Error shot Sans a glare, and Papyrus couldn’t help but tense. “I don’t destroy just whatever! I destroy abominations. Alterations of this bullshit.” Error raised one arm and gestured around the room, presumably indicating the whole timeline. “Though if you keep this up asshole then I might just destroy you too.” Sans raised his eyebrows, clearly contemplating how much he was willing to push that. If Papyrus knew Sans at all (and he did), then Sans was probably also planning to push a few buttons in the best way he could think of.

“good ta know,” Sans said, nodding absently. “anythin else i ought to know?”

“There are other multiversal beings, Error isn’t the only destructive one, there is a void and two known anti-voids though likely more, oh, and Paper is currently substituting for a friend of ours, Blue.” Dream ticked things off on his fingers as he went. “There could be more, but it’s been a while since I introduced someone to the Multiverse.”

“paper?” Sans looked over at Papyrus, who shifted nervously. He didn’t know why, it wasn’t like he was hiding anything? Maybe it was Sans’s scrutinizing look, or that Papyrus didn’t like nicknames. That must be it, no nicknames. His brother would taunt him for at least a month about getting a new nickname.

“There are many Papyruses in the Multiverse, and if you’ll notice, Ink, Error, and I are all Sans-ish. Paper needed a nickname, and he picked this one himself,” Dream said. Papyrus was thankful Dream had explained before he had tried, otherwise Papyrus was certain he would trip over his words.

“a nickname, huh?” Sans raised his eyebrows at his brother playfully. “should i get one too?”

“You are welcome to, especially if you wish to leave your timeline. Most nicknames are based on their timeline’s name or things they like- like colors!” Dream said. He lifted his hand, hesitating as he looked around the room. Then he set his arm back down. Papyrus, glancing around as well, noted that no one’s name was really based on colors.

“for example?” Sans said.

“Ah, see, he isn’t available right now, but Blue!”

“HIS TIMELINE IS UNDERSWAP. LIKE DREAM SAID, I’M TAKING HIS PLACE FOR TODAY.” Papyrus grinned. Sans sat up a little straighter, showing a teensy bit of pride.

“no kiddin’? what’s his role? hope it ain’t like destructo over there,” Sans said.

“Hey, can I like. Get some more of this goodness?” Ink butted in. He had (somehow??) managed to get cheese all around his mouth and some on his forehead. But, of course, the bowl was empty.

“feel free to help yourself.” Sans gestured to the pot in the kitchen, and Ink bounded off towards it.

“Ey, rainbow bastard! You better not make a mess!” Error barked at him.

“What do youuuu care?” Ink huffed.

“I don’t like messes,” Error said. His glitching was just a low buzz, which Papyrus was beginning to understand as calm. “That’s my whole thing, you idiot.”

“you two seem friendly for complete opposites,” Sans said.

“Squid over there refuses to leave anyone alone.” Error still had a scowl on his face, but the glitching didn’t get more intense. Papyrus laughed a bit to himself, Error must like Ink’s company more than he’d like to admit.

“that’s everything?” Sans asked.

“Yes, I believe so.” Dream smiled at him.

“so. what are the rules for tellin’ folks?” Sans leaned forward towards Dream.

“Tell no one. You could seriously fuck up the timeline.” Error said, dropping his bowl on the floor.

“Uh actually- it’s entirely up to you. There aren’t rules for incodes-” Dream got cut off.

“ya keep mentioning incodes, what’re those?”

“Incodes are beings still tied to their timelines, like you and Paper. Blue is also an incode, which is why he couldn’t make it today. Ink, Error, and I are outcodes, which means, well…” Dream trailed off, his eye lights going a little glossy.

“Dream doesn’t really have a home. Error and I made our own!!” Ink said, brushing right over a topic his friend struggled with. Speaking of, Ink didn’t seem to struggle with anything. Was he just… invincible? What a pleasant way to be. Perhaps Papyrus could ask him how he did it (if Ink could focus long enough to answer).

“how exactly do ya… make your own?” Sans asked.

“Hah! As if we know,” Error said, rolling his eye lights.

“YOU DON’T KNOW HOW YOU MADE A WHOLE TIMELINE?” Papyrus asked incredulously.

“It’s not like either of us remember it,” Ink said, shrugging. “Our memories are short! C’mon Paper, you know that!”

“I JUST… THAT’S A LOT NOT TO REMEMBER. HOW DO YOU JUST FORGET THE WHOLE PROCESS?”

“So? Sometimes Squid doesn’t know his own core swallowed name,” Error said.

“so, now that we’ve tried to process that, nice to meet you three,” Sans said. He gave curt nods towards each of Papyrus’s new friends. “dream, i trust that my bro is safe with you?”

“Of course, though Paper does a fantastic job of handling himself.” Dream pointed out. It made Papyrus feel kind of warm, enjoying the feeling of open trust from a monster that just met him. Especially with how useless he’d been during the fight with Error. Sans paused a moment, his gaze lingering on Papyrus, before walking to the door. He sneakily took a shortcut right as the door closed, disappearing into thin air nearly unnoticeably.

“Heeeeey!!! Do you guys want to hang out at Outertale??” Ink said excitedly, setting down a nearly empty bowl of mac and cheese. Goodness, how was he eating that so quickly?

“No.” Error said.

“Don’t we have a game to finish?” Dream tried.

“Actually, fun fact, I’m done hanging out with you shits. Have a horrible day.” Error stood up, opened a portal to who knows where, and left.

“Hey!!! Wait up!!!” Ink whined, racing to make a portal to (presumably) follow.

Dream sighed. “Well, I suppose I’m glad Error’s gone.”

“SHOULD WE BE WORRIED ABOUT OUTERTALE?”

“No, it’s the one timeline Error hasn’t tried to destroy yet.”

“AH.” Papyrus paused. “WHY?”

Dream started, giving Papyrus a surprised look. “I- I guess I’ve never thought about it. It was just… a fact about Error. There are some things none of us question about the two, and they never bother to share.”

“SO… SECRETS?” The more Papyrus thought about secrets, the more his SOUL hurt. He and Sans had been keeping things from each other for so long… he felt relieved that he had told Sans about the multiverse.

“Not really. More like mysteries?” Dream brought a hand to his face, tapping his chin. “I don’t think they purposely hide things, just that they don’t like talking about it. Though they do try and dodge specific questions. And they give different answers for other ones.” Dream looked up at Papyrus again. “I guess they are secrets. Just doesn’t feel that way.”

“LIKE THE ENDING OF A STORY? NOT QUITE A SECRET, BUT IT’S NOT SOMETHING YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO KNOW?” Papyrus liked making comparisons. It showed he understood and could apply things.

“Exactly!” Dream smiled pleasantly. Much more genuine than earlier.

“...DREAM?”

“Yes?”

“WHY WERE YOU SO STRESSED EARLIER?”

Dream wrinkled his face. “Error is always a pain, and I didn’t want to spend Lun-”

“NO.” Papyrus interjected. “I MEAN WHEN I FIRST MET YOU.”

“Oh, uh…” Dream’s composure melted for a split second before he pulled back a fake smile. It was interesting how different it was from his genuine one. “Ink was all over the place, haha! That little dude is a mess.”

“NO, I DON’T THINK THAT’S IT.” Papyrus looked at Dream. He could see how uncomfortable his friend was getting, but it didn’t sound like Dream told anyone his troubles.

Dream sighed. “How about we go for a walk?”

[pterodactylterrace]

Title: Guys Like You

Chapter: 3

Chapter Summary: You’re late for tea

Rating: 18+ for later chapters

Warning: Possible swear words, dirty thoughts, nudity

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Friday had been a strange day for Faye.  First, Henry wasn't on set. It took an embarrassingly long time for her to remember being told he had a few days off of filming.

Then, Mrs. Anderson sent her a strange series of texts asking about him. Sure, Faye had mentioned him a few times. Also, Briar was constantly going on about the man with the fluffy dog, so it made some sort of sense that she would ask about him. Not to mention Mrs. Anderson was always trying to find her a 'nice young man' to settle down with, so fixating on the one man she had mentioned wasn't that odd in retrospect.

Then, as she was pulling her beat up car into her driveway, she noticed an unfamiliar, shiny vehicle already parked outside. Maybe that was the new car Mr. Anderson had been dying for? Why would he park at her house instead of in his own drive a few doors down, though? Was it a surprise for Mrs. Anderson?

Now, she was walking into her house only to be greeted by a very excited, very large fluffball at the door.

"Kal?" That was definitely Kal. He was the only black and white Akita she knew with the habit of knocking his rear into her leg for attention, although his getup was rather strange. Why was Henry's dog in her house, and why was he wearing fairy wings, her daughter's dress up fairy tutu and at least a dozen mardi gras necklaces? Also, the floppy sun hat on his head was a nice touch. He seemed to enjoy having it on as well. That, or it was tied on too well for him to get off.

The dog's attire should have prepared her for when she looked into the living room. There sat Mrs. Anderson, her sun hat on along with one of Briar's scarfs and glow in the dark glasses perched above her regular seeing glasses. Next to her was Briar, her full fairy princess costume on, complete with wings, crown and a scepter, pouring pretend tea into the strangest guest's cup.

There sat Henry Cavill, cross legged on her living room floor, tiny plastic tea cup in his massive hand. On his head was perched a plastic crown, a feather boa wrapped around his thick neck, and if the sparkles were anything to go by, Briar had attacked him with her glitter body spray.

"Mommy!" Briar gasped, dropping her plastic tea pot and racing over to her mother, wrapping her arms around her legs.

"Hi, sweetie. What's going on?" Faye asked cautiously.

"You're late for tea." Henry replied, taking a pretend sip from his cup.

"I hope it's alright, dear. You did say he was a friend, and Briar seemed so fond of his dog, I didn't have the heart to turn him away." Mrs. Anderson explained.

"Uhh... yeah, it's fine." Faye mumbled, still taking in the sight before her, Kal and Briar rejoining the tea party as though nothing was out of the ordinary.

"My mistake. I thought we agreed on Friday." Henry apologized, pushing himself up. "We've only been here a little while. We can leave if you'd like."

"Oh, no. That's ok." Faye assured, finally setting her bag down, hastily turning over her sketch pad on the entrance table. Some things weren't meant for anyone other herself to see.

"I'll just be heading off then, Miss Warren." Mrs. Anderson excused herself, taking off her borrowed accessories and gathering her things. "You all have fun."

"So, uhh... how... how long have you been here?" Faye asked once she closed the door behind the older woman, quickly scanning the room to make sure nothing difficult to explain was in plain sight.

"Not long." Henry assured, sitting back down at Briar's insistent tugging, folding his long muscular legs back up as he settled on the floor in front of the coffee table.

"More tea!" Briar demanded, holding the cup up to his mouth, prompting him to take another pretend sip.

"You make wonderful tea, miss." Henry complimented, Briar preening in response.

"Mommy, you want tea?" Briar asked, a wide yawn cracking her little face.

"I would love some, sweetheart, but it's time for your nap." Faye pointed out.

"No! I wanna play tea!" Briar whined, plopping back on her backside in a pout.

"Briar." Faye warned, raising a brow at her.

"But... but... tea party!" Briar insisted.

"We can play more tea party after your nap. You're getting grumpy."

"No I'm not!" Briar insisted, her chubby face drawn into a scowl.

"That was grump right there." Faye pointed out, gently scooping up her cranky daughter. "Now let's go lay you down for a nap, and then we can play more tea party when you wake up."

"I don't wanna nap!" Briar yawned, rubbing her hazel eyes in an attempt to stay awake.

"You need one."

"I don't wanna nap, I'm tired!"

"Sound logic, my love." Faye sighed, settling her daughter into her bed, tucking her in with her favorite stuffed unicorn. The little girl was asleep before Faye even reached the door, curled up around her stuffie with her little tush up in the air.

"Sorry you had to see that. She really hates going down for a nap when she's having fun."

"Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to get her wound up." Henry apologized, removing the plastic crown from his head.

"Don't worry about it, she's just happy to have more guests at her tea party." Faye assured, picking up the plastic dishes and putting them back in the toy box.

"She was quite insistent we join, though I do think Kal enjoyed getting dressed up." Henry chuckled, beginning to remove the dog's costume.

"Good thing you agreed, otherwise you would have faced the wrath of Briar." Faye giggled, noticing the unicorn and rainbow stickers all over Henry's back.

"It was a pleasure attending her party. She is quite a wonderful host." Henry laughed, stowing the costumes back in the toy box. "Now, I do believe you requested help with a cake for our little party host."

"Yes, right this way." Faye waved, heading off to her tiny eat in kitchen. "What do we need?"

"Well... you have an oven, so that's a start. I brought the ingredients with me. Do you happen to have a cake pan?" Henry listed, opening the fridge and removing the bag he'd brought along.

"I have a glass baking pan." Faye offered.

"We will work with that." Henry agreed. "Now, measuring cups?"

"They are around here somewhere."

"Do you know how to use them?" Henry teased, setting the ingredients from the bag onto the counter.

"Vaguely. I just usually eyeball everything when I cook." Faye admitted.

"That won't work with baking. It's a science and the measurements have to be exact." Henry explained. "So, we'll start with the dry ingredients. Can you measure out two cups of flour?"

"I have no idea where the cup is. I have half a cup."

"Four of those, then." Henry absently mumbled, scanning over his mother's recipe card again. He glanced over to see her attacking the bag of flour with the measuring cup, wincing to himself as he watched. "Faye?"

"Mmhmm?"

"Forgive me for asking, but do you know how to measure flour?" Henry asked, cringing when she tried to smooth the top down with her hand, causing a flour explosion in her face.

"I'm guessing what I just did wasn't right."

"Not quite." Henry chuckled, stepping behind her, taking her hand in his and dumping the flour back into the bag. "You can use a spoon to sift it. Packed flour and unpacked flour are two totally different measurements." He explained, handing her a spoon and taking her other hand in his, showing her how to sift the flour into the measuring cup.

Faye tried to keep her cool and ignore the fact that Henry Cavill was pressed up behind her, holding her hands and showing her how to measure flour like it was the most natural thing in the world. Surely this was just some dream and if it was, no one had better wake her up.

"Got it?" Henry asked, turning his head to look at her, snapping her from her thoughts. Faye did her best not to stare at his lips, so close and yet so far away. She could just lean in...

"Yeah, got it." She quickly confirmed, forcing her attention back to the task at hand.

And so it went, Henry leading the way through the mysterious land of baking, Faye following blindly behind. He even let her lick the spoon when he was done with it, and he in no way stared in awe at the way her tongue moved around it. He was a gentleman, after all, and imagining what else that tongue could do would be highly inappropriate.

It wasn't until after the cake had been pulled from the oven to cool that Briar woke up, wandering into the kitchen with her now disheveled princess costume still on, her hair sticking out in strange angles as she rubbed her eyes.

"You're here!" Briar gasped, taking notice of the giant in the room and scurrying over to him, throwing her arms around his legs.

"Nice to know where I stand." Faye pouted as Henry scooped the girl up, her daughter not even glancing her way in favor of talking to Henry.

"Can we play dollies?" Briar asked, batting her thick dark lashes at him, her chubby lip sticking out in a pout.

"I've never played before, you'll have to show me how." Henry agreed, smiling down at the little girl held securely in his arm.

"Mommy, you look silly!" Briar giggled, finally looking over at her mother.

"That's not nice." Faye gently scolded.

"What on your face?" Briar asked.

"Mommy had an incident with the flour." Henry explained. Shit. Had she really spent the last hour, practically drooling over her guest with flour all over her face? She really should write a book on how to flirt. No doubt, it would be a best seller.

"I'm gonna go get cleaned up." Faye mumbled, her face heating up beneath the flour coating as she ducked her head and beelined down the hall.

"I'll be learning how to play dolls." Henry chuckled after her, carrying the toddler back to the living room so her mother could shower in peace.

Fifteen minutes later, Briar was still explaining the different names of her dolls and stuffed animals, piling each on top of Henry and resorting to stuffing them under Kal's paws when she ran out of room on her semi-willing captive. Faye cracked the bathroom door open and glanced to the living room to make sure her guest was thoroughly distracted before she slipped out of the bathroom, towel wrapped tightly around herself as she snuck down the hall to her bedroom, breathing a sigh of relief when she closed the door behind herself. She could almost convince herself he was interested in her with the couple times she'd caught him looking her way when he thought she wouldn't notice. No need to scare him off with her mom-bod now.

Sure, it hadn't been that hard on her figure. She wasn't left with the same saggy stomach her mother had after her pregnancies, but then again, her mother had carried two sets of twins almost to term. Talk about a superwoman. Though she did decide no more children after her younger brother and sister had been born.

"You keep giving me a two for one deal, I'm not doing this again!"

Good times. Good times. The wonders of having twins running strongly in your family. Faye had only given birth to one, but she still bore the stretch marks on her stomach and breasts, and the loose skin on her stomach had never really gone back to the way it was before.

Faye was shaken from her thoughts by her daughter's all too familiar exclamation coming from behind her. "Mommy, you're nakie!" She would never understand her daughter's near obsession with pointing out the fact that she was in fact, naked during and directly after showers, but it was without a doubt one of her favorite hobbies. Right behind tea parties if she had to guess.

"Wait, what? Oh!" That was not her daughter's voice. Faye's head snapped up to find Briar's chubby hand wrapped tightly around Henry's little finger, his other hand clapped firmly over his eyes. "I am so sorry! She wanted to get her stuffed dragon, I did not know this was your room!"

Faye snatched her towel off the bed and wrapped it around herself again, grabbing the dragon from the pillow and handing it off to Briar. The little girl happily took her dragon and led Henry back down the hall, not bothering with the door. The wonders of being young and innocent. She had no clue what she had just done.

Faye quickly shut the door herself, remembering to turn the lock this time, though it was a moot point by then. She threw on a tank top, leggings and her fluffy socks before forcing herself to venture back out. Henry was actually sitting on the couch this time, doing his best to focus on what the little girl was saying, though truth be told, his mind kept wandering back to the quick glimpse he had gotten of Faye's backside before he registered what was going on. It was even better than the glances he had gotten when she bent over in front of him to rummage through her make up bag. Nice and round, plump yet firm. The kind of ass you just want to squeeze as you're-

"So... " Faye started awkwardly, quickly breaking Henry out of his own head. "Lunch sound good?"

"Chocolate sandwiches!" Briar quickly suggested, hugging her stuffed bunny to her chest as she bounced around.

"It looks like I'm making chocolate sandwiches, though I could probably also manage a peanut butter and jelly."

"I wouldn't want to impose, though I did want to apologize again-"

"Accident's happen, but we are going to pretend that one didn't, ok?" Faye interjected. "So nutella or peanut butter and jelly?"

"Umm... either is fine."

"Briar, keep them company while mommy makes lunch, ok?" Faye suggested, going back to the kitchen before her false confidence faded. If he was on board with repressing and denying, so was she.

Now, only one questioned remained: Would Henry prefer his sandwiches cut into dinosaurs or puzzle pieces?

[all1e23]

Between the Stars [Pt. 9]

Pairings:  Past!Steve x Reader, Bucky x  Reader

Series warnings: CHARACTER DEATH. Grief. Overall sadness. Depression. It’s pretty angsty if I’m being honest. Things mellow out as the series goes on. TW: Military/Spouse death.

A/N: Happy Monday! Have some emotions.  Thanks to my beautiful beta @moonbeambucky​​​​​ for looking this chapter over for me. If you like it write me a book report, sing me a song or come scream at me.

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are my jam, though! Thanks!****

“Hey, Buck. Toss a few of them logs on, will ya?”

Bucky grabbed five or so large logs from the stack Sam had nodded to and delicately leaned them up against the smaller than usual bonfire. It wasn’t anything close to what they would build back in the day, but a lot had changed since then. Most of the kids who came those late summer nights were grown with families and didn’t want to spend their night out on the lake with people they rarely spoke to. It ended up being a few people from their old crowd and their small group of family, which was smaller than they all remembered. Pietro was living off the west coast, somewhere out in California now, and no one has heard from Tony and Bruce for two or three years. 

Then there was Steve… 

A decade or two can change things. It was different, but not all of it was bad. It was the first time in weeks Bucky and Y/n had done anything fun together, and the first time since he came home, they all spent time together like this. Y/n hung by his side all night. She only strayed once, and it was when Wanda finally showed up towards the end of the night. It didn’t take long before she found her way back to him, grinning and out of breath from whatever they had been laughing about. He liked seeing her like that. It’s been a long, long time, and Bucky’s missed it. At some point through the silly laughs and drunken conversation, Bucky felt her hand brush against his, and the first time he thought it was an accident. A misunderstanding. She didn’t want to hold his hand in front of everyone. Bucky wasn’t sure she ever wanted to hold his hand -- until recently anyway.  

By the fourth graze, Bucky had turned to look at her, but she kept her eyes forward on the flames in front of them as her pinky hooked around his. He might have blacked out. He didn’t know how long he stared at her after that, but Sam must have made fun of him for something because when he came to everyone was looking at him laughing, and Sam had that dumb smug look on his face. 

It was a good night. A really good night. The second that thought passed through his head Buck should have known he jinxed himself. He’s never been lucky when it comes to love or Y/n. 

“I was hoping to find you here.” 

Bucky went stiff at the sound of Dot’s voice. It’s been years since he’s seen her, but it’s not one she’s going to let him forget. Of all the people he thought they might run into tonight, Bucky never once thought they’d see Dot. The change in Y/n was immediate and undeniable. She was upset about Dot showing up, or was it that she was talking to Bucky? He didn’t know for sure, but Y/n wasn’t the only one that wished she had stayed home tonight. Dot was a mistake, one he made several times before he realized just how big of one she was. It takes him a few tries before he gets it right it would seem. Y/n’s pinky slowly loosened from his, and she dropped her hand, leaving his hand cold and angry without her touch.

“Dot,” Bucky gritted out. He didn’t mean for it to come out so blunt, but he wasn’t looking to run into old flames tonight, and he certainly wasn’t interested in spending time with Dot when he could be holding Y/n’s hand all night. The brunette leaned in slightly and ran a hand up his arm, pretending to adjust something on the collar of the navy button-up shirt he was wearing. Y/n had picked it out before they left, and when he asked if it was too formal for a bonfire, she told him to roll up the sleeves. You’d look good like that, she had said. 

Bucky wasn’t about to argue with that. 

“Not much has changed, I see. I think I saw some marshmallows over there,” Dot said with a suggestive smirk. 

The appalling laugh that left Y/n’s mouth sent a chill down his spine, and his heart sank when she started to walk away. 

“Hey,” Bucky interrupted whatever Dot was rambling and grabbed Y/n’s hand before she could get very far. "Where are you going?" 

“Just letting you two catch up.” 

Bucky hated the ice coating her words. He hated it. 

“Y/n, you don’t--” 

“It’s fine, Bucky. I’m going to go over and talk to Wanda. You’re a big boy, and I don’t need a babysitter.” 

He watched as she walked over to where Wanda was sitting and whispered something in her ear that had Wanda’s head whipping around to where he was standing. Wanda’s eyes darted to Dot and back to Bucky before she rolled them and took Y/n’s hand, leading her out of his sight. As if she needed to hide Y/n from him or his actions. Dot was blabbering on and on about something, he had no idea what she was saying, and he didn’t care to pretend tonight.

Bucky waited. He waited to see Y/n walking through the crowd back towards him, but she didn’t, and he had no idea where she got to. Without explaining or excusing himself, Bucky made his way towards Wanda, Dot following close behind him. 

“Wanda. Did you see where Y/n got to?” 

Wanda briefly glanced behind her and opened her mouth to say something, but Dot was back by his side, ruining yet another moment without knowing it. 

“Bucky, wait. I thought-- You never called me when you came back home like you said you would. You had that fling with Sharon Carter but didn’t call me.” 

Yeah, because Sharon understood, Bucky thought bitterly. Sharon knew what they were, what he could give to her, and what he couldn’t. She knew more wasn’t an option. Dot still pretended there was hope for the future. Maybe, it wasn’t acting and she really thought one day Bucky could love her. He didn’t know and didn’t care. Bucky tried to look through the crowd of people, but Y/n was nowhere to be found. He cursed under his breath and swung around to face Dot. It wasn’t her fault, and Bucky knew that. Honesty hasn’t been his strong suit. Not when it came to Y/n. 

That was something that had to change, and it started here. 

“I told you before; I don’t have anything for you. The things you want I can’t give you because everything I have belongs to her.” 

There wasn’t any surprise or shock on Dot’s face. She simply nodded as if she knew who she was and how long Bucky’s heart had belonged to her. Bucky didn’t care if she did know. He didn’t have time to play these childish games. Y/n slipped through his fingers once before, his stomach was twisted up in knots from the familiar doomed path he’s put himself on tonight, and he wasn’t about to let Y/n think there was anyone more important than her. 

He won’t go down that road again. 

"I have to find Y/n." 

Bucky didn’t wait for an answer. He left Dot standing with Wanda giving her an awkward smile, offering the smaller woman a drink by holding out a plastic cup, but Dot politely declined. He pushed through the small group of people and stopped on the hill. No doubt, she left him there and was going to make him catch a ride back with Sam. 

“Hey.”

Bucky spun back around at the sound of Y/n’s voice, Wanda and Natasha watching them intently. Where had she come from? How had he missed her? 

"Hey,” Bucky repeated dumbly. 

Y/n smiled at him, and Bucky let out a sigh of relief that made her laugh. He opened his mouth to explain, to give some kind of excuse for what just happened, but the look in her eye said he didn’t have to. Bucky briefly wondered if she had heard him, but quickly shook the feeling off. No, she wouldn’t be here waiting on him if she had. Y/n held out her hand and nodded towards the row of cars at the top of the small hill. 

“Ready to go home?” 

God, Bucky really liked it when she said things like that. Like it really was his home, and she wanted him there as much as he wanted to be. He took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. 

“Yeah. Okay, Trouble. Let’s go home.”

------

“Come hang out with me for a little while. I’m not ready for bed yet,” Y/n had said right when they walked in the front door, and Bucky was worried that she was still pissed for a minute, but she grinned and held out her hand again. He took it following her through the house and into the kitchen, where she stopped to pull two bottles from the fridge, holding the beer out for Bucky to take. 

If she figured it out how he felt, finally figured him out she didn’t show it. The way she treated him in the last month hadn’t changed. She still slept in his room and held his hand on their walks. She always smiled when he walked into a room and stole tiny bits of his soul with each one. Bucky was worried that his confession about Steve and the scarf would have changed the way she looked at him. Y/n never brought it up as he expected. The morning after, Bucky had waited for her to tell him to pack his things or at least ask him why. 

Ask why her scarf bothered him so much that day, but the questions never came.

Bucky didn’t know if she figured it out on her own, but he prayed if she did, she would let it go. He’s had decades of practice hiding his heart from her, and if she needed him to, he could keep it all hidden. Whatever he had to do to keep her and keep things the way they were. 

“So what exactly do you do with marshmallows that has that poor girl following you around?” 

“I, uh, I’d rather not say.” 

Bucky’s cheek turned pink, and he shook his head, embarrassed mostly and partly annoyed with himself for dragging all those girls along for so many years. They knew the truth. Sharon said she could see it in his eyes. “I know,” she said one night with her head on his chest after one of their nights together. “I know I’m not the one you’re in love with. I also know you can’t have her. I can see it. It’s written all over you. I just want you to know I’m sorry.” 

Maybe that was true, perhaps it was written all over him. Steve never noticed, but Sam always said he could see it in him every time Y/n was around. 

He’s better at hiding his feelings now. He hoped, at least. 

“You know that night?” 

Bucky stared at the glass bottle in his hand, the tiny sparkles in the countertop and the wood beams on the ceiling. Anywhere so he didn’t have to look at her. Of course, he knew the night. As if he could forget it. 

“What are you talking about?”

“I know you know, Buck. The night.”

Bucky licked his lips and turned to look at her, biting out a harsh, “What about it?”

He was angry, and he knew he had no right to be, but he didn’t want to talk about that night -- Least of all with her. 

“It’s silly. Just forget it, okay?” 

Y/n looked annoyed and maybe a little hurt as she pushed off the counter and dumped her half-full bottle of hard cider down the drain, letting the glass rest in the sink. She was in a rush to get away from him and hide, but Bucky wasn't about to let that happen. He tossed the empty beer in his hand into the can resting against the wall as she rounded the corner to stairs. The sleek metal can warning him not to do what he was about to do. 

He had to. He wasn’t about to let her run from him twice in one night. 

“Hold up a minute,” Bucky called, following her into the living room. “You brought the damn night up, and now you’re gonna run upstairs and hide?”  

Y/n looked pissed when she stomped back over to him, and Bucky started to regret pushing this. She could be pretty scary when she was mad, and he’s already walked a fine line tonight. There have only been a handful of times in his life when he’s gone toe to toe with her, and there isn’t much that has scared him as much as those moments.

“When you came over to talk to me? By the lake? You grabbed my waist and pulled me close... Do you remember that?”

Bucky felt sick to his stomach. 

“Yeah, I remember.”

Some nights it was all he could remember. 

“I thought you were going to kiss me. I thought maybe you liked me or something.” She huffed, a self-deprecating laugh falling from her lips, and she shook her head. She was angry with herself for bringing all of this up when it’s been dead for years. “I’m not great at reading people it would seem because I could have sworn you liked me. That maybe you wanted more…” 

Bucky gulped. 

“And, well, I never saw Steve coming. I guess I imagined it all. I don’t know. You always seemed to be right there, you know? Holding my hand and kissing my forehead. I thought maybe you felt something for me. I was young and stupid, I guess. I’m sorry I brought it up. Let’s just blame it on nostalgia and forget it, okay?” 

She was halfway up the stairs, and Bucky cursed under his breath. Shit. He was about to do something so incredibly dumb. Liquid courage was making them all a little braver tonight, and Bucky wasn’t the exception.

He took a deep breath. 

“I was.” 

Y/n stopped and set her eyes on him. He stared right back, but she could see the fear in his eyes, slowly she descended the few steps back down to meet him, standing on the bottom stair, leaving her several inches taller than him now. Bucky wanted to touch her or at least move closer but decided better of it and stopped himself. He wasn’t sure how she was going to react to what he was going to say next. 

“I was going to kiss you. That was the whole reason I came that night. I wanted you. You didn’t imagine any of it. The touches, the kisses, or the way I felt about you.” 

“Why didn't you?” 

Bucky sighed and ran a hand over his face. He hadn’t planned on laying his cards out and showing all the parts he liked to keep hidden, especially from her. Not once has he thought about coming clean about what happened back then, but not telling her was the reason he was in this mess. Not just tonight. It was the reason he never got the chance to love her. He could never admit the truth to Steve, but he could tell Y/n. Maybe that would absolve him for part of the lie he’s been living all these years. 

“Short answer? I was a kid, and I was afraid of what I felt. I was scared, Y/n. Scared that if I told you how I felt, I would lose you. That still scares me. I’ve faced a lot of awful shit in my life and didn’t flinch but losing you? That’s the only thing that terrifies me.”

Y/n stood there, silent and unwavering in her stare. Bucky thought he was going to die if she didn’t say something soon. The seconds drug by, and with each one, the grip on Bucky’s heart tightened a little more. Finally, she nodded, and the wire squeezing his lungs loosened enough that he could breathe again. 

“Did Steve know? Did he know how you felt?”

Or so he thought anyway. 

Bucky didn’t want to lie to her. He honestly didn’t know if Steve knew he was in love with her, Bucky had his assumptions, and he knew Steve had some idea how he felt. Still, Bucky wouldn’t tarnish Steve’s memory or their marriage. He wouldn’t do that to her. 

“I don't know. Maybe. We never talked about it. I didn’t-- we never talked about it.”

She nodded. There was something in her eyes he didn’t recognize. It wasn’t something good he knew that. 

“I’m gonna go up to bed. It's late.”

Bucky nodded and turned to go back to the kitchen. He was pretty sure Steve had some old whiskey hidden above the stove if Y/n hadn’t polished it off before he came home.

“Buck? You coming?” 

He turned back and nodded; the surprise was evident on his face. He didn’t think she would want him to share a bed with him after that confession. It seemed she did, so he followed her without questioning it further. He changed into sweats and waited for her to come to bed in those little striped cotton shorts she liked so much. No one spoke as they climbed into bed, and Bucky flicked the light on the bedside table off, letting only the moonlight light the room. 

Bucky’s room stayed silent as they laid there, a small space separating them tonight. His admission had exhausted them both, and Bucky wasn’t sure what it would mean tomorrow, confessions always look different in the morning light. Y/n pressed her forehead against his shoulder and whispered, “If you could go back to that night and do it over, would you?” 

Bucky knew what she was asking, and there’s only ever been one answer. 

“Yes.” 

Bucky, as selfish as it made him, would make sure his was the only love she knew.

Previous // Next 

[fukurodaze]

if i ever get lost

pairing/s: third year!haiba lev x gn!reader genre: fluff, romantic tension aka best and softest tension word count: 3.2k warnings: like, one curse word this was also requested by anon! “3rd year Lev w a reader who’s struggling to pass all their homeworks, projects and quizzes (bc they piled up their works ;;) while thinking of how should they study for college/uni entrance exams?”

special thanks to nat @natszoo​ and ellie @lcnelyinthesky​ for beta reading and helping me w this!! 

LISTEN TO: somebody loves you - jeremy zucker; glitter - benee

lowercase intended!

you throw your head back when you forget the term written on the flip side of the flash card haiba lev is holding. it’s a friday night, far past anyone’s bedtimes, but final exams for the first semester start on monday and you’re not sure where to start. haiba lev, being the person who has nothing better to do, agreed to come over and flip cards with random kanji, english, and biology terms on it.

lev might also be here because it’s an open secret that he’s liked you since first year, and you’ve never answered to his feelings, but you’re thinking friends for now - until you memorise all of this semester’s kanji, english vocabulary, and biology terms, that is.

“the phospholipid bilayer is made up of...”

lev gives you time to think, his wide eyes going between the answer on the card and your thinking face.

“shit, uh, the phospholipid bilayer is made up of two layers of phospholipids?”

“makes sense, but no.” lev answers, flipping the card to show you.

“the phospholipid bilayer is made up of a polar, hydrophilic area containing a phosphate group bound to glycerol, and a non-polar, lipophilic area containing fatty acids...” you read aloud, trying to memorise what’s currently going out your mouth, in one ear, and out again through another ear.

“you know, your flash cards are pretty comprehensive.”

you raise an eyebrow, “is that... a good thing?”

“i mean, yes and no,” he takes another sip of the tea your mom had insisted to bring to guests, “it’s harder to memorise, but it’s better for details. but-”

“but?” you watch as he takes another sip. 

“i think if you really don’t know where to go, just understand the basic concept of everything. for one - what is the function of the bilayer?”

“why do you sound smart?” you question, tilting your head jokingly.

“hey! i am smart! most times! with tests like these that have essay questions, you just gotta learn the basic concept of each term and connect them.” lev advices, recounting his former volleyball captain and nekoma high school alumni, kuroo tetsuro’s, words when lev himself was barely scraping past his first semester finals when he’d just transferred.

“easier said than done in two nights,” you slouch your head on your desk, “plus! it’s not just biology. or exams.”

if memorising all these terms in the span of two days sounds bad enough, you’re still crushed with the supplementary course work and projects due next week as well. 

you let out a deep groan. you’re so tired. it’s like biology information only comes up when you’re studying for english, biology only coming up for modern literature, and mathematics somehow being inserted into the little unknown kanji in modern literature. it’s all too much at once.

“it’s all too much at once, huh?” lev places his head on your desk, only a few inches away from your face. normally, you’d push him away, pull your head back up, or maybe even give him a light slap on a bad day, but today you welcome him. 

you nod, quiet. you haven’t been able to get a breather. it’s essay this, quiz that, lab report here, test there. your mind is blank.

now, lev sits back up on the extra chair from your dining room, “have you eaten dinner?”

“why are you asking... it’s like, midnight.”

“the question still stands.”

you sigh, “nope.”

lev hums. he takes a pen, then twirls it, like his fingers possessed polar magnets that somehow let the pens never fall from his hands. but it does eventually, and when it falls with a plastic click on your wooden desk, lev visibly takes a big breath and says, “do you want to get ramen?”

you exhale through your nose and smile. “are you asking me out, haiba?”

“is it inappropriate to ask you out now?”

damn this tall dork. come to think of it, he’s never actually asked you out despite the obvious ways he’d vouch for your attention in the past. you’re quite surprised, frankly, as he’s always been so loud in the ways he’s wanted to be with you but never really made it seem like anything was going to happen. 

but, hey, it’s late enough for you to put down your doubts about him away. after all, he’s been in your room for four hours, just helping you study. he wasn’t even studying himself - he just sat there, doing almost nothing. and for a guy like him, you wonder how he’s managed to keep there for so long.

“sure.”

lev’s eyes widen. “wait, really?”

“yeah,” you begin to set aside all your study materials, “we can go to a twenty-four hour place in the city, too.”

“alright! let me get you your coat!”

“my coat?” you raise an eyebrow when he hands you the coat you wear the most, feeling both flattered and slightly surprised that he recognises it straight away from your messy room. the boy comes to retreat his coat as well from one of the hangers in your room, and he even offers to get you your socks and boots.

“alright, alright, you don’t have to be that ready to go,” you joke. 

he makes sure there is no noise when you two walk out of your house, through the suburbs of tokyo and to the nearest train to the city. 

“aren’t you two a bit young to be here so late?” the shopkeeper, an old lady, mutters under her breath. you catch it through her croaky voice when you and lev enter the place together, but you pay no attention because all you care to focus on is the smell of broth and your empty stomach.

“for two, please,” lev says, undoubtedly hearing the woman’s remark, but answering with a smile. she smiles too, and so do you, and it makes you remember all the times he’s smiled and you’ve wanted to either punch him or hold his hand. 

today just happens to be one of those days where you want to hold his hand. you shake the thought off.

when you two are seated at the ramen bar, your head falls onto your palm, tilting back to face lev, his chin covered partly by his usual maroon scarf. you had whispered to him earlier on the train what you wanted to order, and lev quickly speaks to the waiter as your tired gaze rises from from the squiggly wooden patterns embedded in the polished wooden table to the boy that’s sitting right next to you. 

at first glance, you remember haiba lev’s face to be satisfying to look at. you remember when he had just transferred to your class in the first year, and you developed the annoying habit of looking forty-five degrees to the right every time you were bored in class, as you thought his face was much easier on the eyes than complex quadratic equations or japanese history. 

for a while you wondered if it was because he certainly looked different - not only was he practically a giant, but he had eurocentric features that stood out from the majority of the student body as well (it also didn’t help that he quite literally and figuratively filled any room he was in). though, maybe, after a while, when everyone got used to the sight of a new face, you kept your line of sight at a forty-five degree angle, just peering above his cheekbones. the same way you’re looking at him right now.

and really, the only word for it is handsome. dashing. good-looking. you’ve always known that, but now that you put it into words in your head, you notice the chiseled jaw, pointed nose and emerald green eyes feel a bit more-

“what you staring at?” his baritone voice cuts through your thoughts cleanly.

you don’t like where this conversation will go. “haiba, are you doing any college entrance exams?”

lev cocks his head to one side, thinking, before nodding, “i think i am. why?”

“how are you studying for them?”

lev clicks his tongue, and it brings you to surprise, “get your mind away from studying! we’re not here in the city at, like, one in the morning to talk about college entrance exams!”

you sigh, “okay, fine. but, still, answer my question?”

“i just do practice problems for twenty minutes every day,” lev shrugs, “okay, now, can we move away from studying?”

you hum lazily, watching as two bowls of ramen arrive at the bar. he had ordered what you told him you wanted to order, both bowls almost identical in smell, shape, size, and content. almost, because lev didn’t have any spring onions in his bowl.

“haiba,” you call, earning a quick call of your name in response, “do you not like spring onions?”

lev nods so obviously that he seems proud. his chopsticks mix the entire bowl together before picking up the half-boiled egg and eating the slice whole. when he swallows it down, he asks you, “you noticed.”

“i mean, yeah,” you reply, “why do you not like them? they’re like, essential.”

lev takes a slurp of his noodles, and then a spoonful of the broth, “i just never liked their texture - which is funny, since my entire family loves adding spring onions.”

now it’s your turn to slurp into your ramen, one bite turning into two, and two turning into the entire content of the bowl. lev seems to eat twice as fast, seemingly having a strategy to cooling down the hot noodles on his spoon while simultaneously folding a piece of pork charsiu in between the loops of each spoonful of noodles, making sure that the little wrap is bathed in a little bit of broth. you find yourself smiling at his act, almost like he has a system of his own when it came to eating ramen - well, he usually had a system of his own when doing just about anything.

the meal is quiet for the most part, with little mumbles of how your tea needs a refill and the ruffling sounds between sheets of tissue to wipe off the broth around your lips. it’s fulfilling, and the look on lev’s face says he’s happy too.

when you two make it out of the ramen bar, 1am feels the same as 9pm. somehow, you’re no longer the kind of sleepy you were when you were flipping through flashcards on your desk, and instead, you’re almost dreading to go home. you think it might also be the neon lights, but there’s some kind of electricity you’re not yet willing to let rest for the night.

luckily, lev doesn’t feel the need to rush. although his steps are big and his voice is loud, he takes his time when you two make the silent agreement to make the walk to the train station as long-winded as possible. his voice is lower, and softer, this time, and when he speaks to you about his friends from his old school, you convince yourself it’s the most interesting topic in the world - because it is. because it’s lev.

when he stops in his tracks, you stop too, watching him go into a small trinket shop you’ve always seen but never had the means to afford to go in. you reckon you might own something from this store, though.

“haiba, you like little trinkets?” your eyes scroll through the shelves of delicate and virtually useless items, eyes landing on a small lion cub made of clear resin with a small blob of gold floating in the middle of its clear body. you’re not usually drawn to any animal trinkets, as you’ve gotten used to decorative objects like bows or feathers or lace, but today you think about the lion cub. despite it looking severely overpriced, you take it in your hand anyway, not noticing lev’s figure coming right behind you.

“do you want that one?” you yelp in surprise when he says that, turning around to find yourself so close to him you could smell the dried raindrops on his padded coat.

“i’m pretty sure it’s overpriced. trinkets are usually overpriced anyways.”

“wait, let me check it,” you hand lev the trinket, “how much is your keychain?”

you furrow your eyebrows, “what?”

“you know, the keychain on the bag you bring to school.”

“oh,” you try to remember the time you had saved up for that keychain, “i think it was about three thousand yen? it’s overpriced. definitely.”

“well, this one’s only two thousand and five hundred. i’ll get it for you.”

“wha- lev!” you whine, “you’re going to make me feel bad- wait what’s wrong?” you see the boy freeze up in front of you, a big smile creeping onto his cheeky face.

he doesn’t reply for a bit, and you’re faced with raised cheekbones and a wide mouth. you try again, “was it something i did? or said?”

“you called me lev,” oh, you did. 

now his smile spreads from ear to ear, and it’s spreading to you. “you never call me lev.”

“huh, well.” you bite the inside of your mouth, “i guess now i do.”

it’s enough for you to let him spend over two thousand yen on a single trinket. you watch as he waits for the trinket to be wrapped neatly in pretty paper and put in a pink cardboard bag, its motif pretty enough to be its own product in the store. 

you stand by the doorframe of the store, mouth ready to open with the words ‘i’ll pay you back’. but it seems like lev had heard you from the future, and before you could do anything, he tells you, “don’t pay me back. this is my gift to you.”

“for exams?”

he grins. “you know, lev means lion in russian.”

the bell of the store rings as you two make your way out, this time really going back to the station. you answer with a ‘really?’ at his fun fact but you keep it to yourself that you’ve known ever since he first transferred and everyone had asked him about it. 

“yeah, and the thing’s a lion cub, so, it’s like you have me all the time!” 

you giggle, walking up the steps to the train platform. “you’re really something, lev.”

lev stretches his arms out, with long limbs you swear ghost your shoulder. you get that feeling again, in your hands, where you just can’t seem to understand why you want to take his hand in yours so bad, so you ask the boy if you can hold onto the bag with your trinket. lev passes it to you, and you hate how you would’ve liked for your thumb to graze over his thumb for longer. you hate it even more when he motions you onto the train, and in a blur, you take his arm, leading him to corner seats on the train. you feel your face heat up. 

ah, so that’s how it is.

now you’re conflicted. not that lev had ever made you feel uncomfortable - no, never - but you had never known how to return his obvious feelings. he would act on them, as always, and one day, as you fell asleep one day after final semester exams in the second year, leaning back into the plastic seat of a suburban tokyo metro rail (which lev thought was very dangerous), lev had muttered in the quietest and most subtle manner, ‘what do i do with my feelings?’

then, in a haze, with eyes barely open, you had moved your head from your seat to his shoulder, painting his cheeks red - dumbstruck. he thought you forgot about it the next morning, and you barely remember, so nothing happened afterwards. yet, when you think of him, you think of hues of orange peeling the sky into purple; of freshly washed school uniforms; of heads leaning on shoulders and fingers intertwined. you don’t know how to answer him.

with lev, there is chatter and laughter and blunt remarks that almost get him slapped in the face. still, there is a box, bigger than the bag your trinket is in, that contains words that you don’t think you or lev have ever said in pure daylight and wake. 

“hey, lev?”

you want to open that box.

“yeah?”

but you don’t know how to do it yet.

“the phospholipid bilayer is made up of a polar, hydrophilic area containing a phosphate group bound to glycerol, and a non-polar, lipophilic area containing fatty acids.”

lev exclaims a series of ‘oooh!’s in delight. 

“was that correct?”

“um,” lev gulps, “i think so? i mean- i think so.”

but you will open it, sooner or later, and it rings in your head when you step off the train and walk into the neighbourhood. right now, nothing is different - the air is not heavier, his eyes do not sparkle like love interests do in the movies, and you do not look through a rose-coloured lens. monday is finals, and the weekend is studying. you tell yourself this.

lev stops at your doorstep, and you almost feel a sear in your chest at the thought of him leaving for the night. 

“so, good luck with next week, y/n.”

you nod, trinket bag in your hands, “you too, lev.”

you find that your arms are opening up, a small pout on your face as lev comes to wrap his arms around you, coats shuffling against each other as you hold each other at three in the morning. 

when you pull away from the hug, you start to ramble a bit, scrambling for new topics to bring up in hopes of just a few more seconds with him - that, and trying to stop yourself from your newfound want to cup this boy’s face in your hands and kiss him square on the lips. you wonder if he would be good at kissing, and you wonder how much you’ll regret having these thoughts tomorrow. 

but even conversation dies when you know it’s getting too cold, so you bid your sweet goodbyes and promise him not to overwork; he reminds you that it’s better to do short but frequent study sessions than fewer and highly intensive ones. you nod, your boots heavy on your doorstep, the hushed sound of keys in doors slowly becoming the only sound you hear as you assume lev’s left already.

until he calls your name.

your head spins fast towards the boy, watching as he makes long strides to stand at your doorway once again, scarf prodding the tip of his nose, so close to your face. he’s red.

“during exams, or tomorrow, or studying for entrance exams- if you ever get lost-” he pants, and unties his scarf from his neck.

“you’ll find me, okay?” the scarf comfortably hangs around your neck now, covering your mouth. he pats your head twice. it’s warm - literally. 

you barely get the chance to say anything before he darts out of your house with a quick goodbye. you’re left confused, flustered, and excited at once, and this time, you think you might have the words as to why. 

you like to imagine you taste sweetness, see eyes that sparkle, and feel butterflies in your stomach. 

“it might not be so bad,” you whisper, looking down at the pretty little bag containing one unnecessarily expensive item lev had bought you.

right; you have feelings for him too. 

then you make up your mind: you’ll tell him next friday. and if your finals stand between tonight and next friday, then, all the more motivation to get through them, right?

you make sure to set an alarm for seven in the morning, kanji textbooks lined up for tomorrow. 

[perksofhs]

“Baby you know I love you right?”

Hi lovelies! Here is my first request piece! I originally posted this ages ago but it seemed to be blocked and wasn’t viewable in tags. Anyway enjoy! Xx

He’d started feeling ill a few days before Christmas Eve, a sniffly nose, sore throat, hot and cold sweats and a fever leading to the conclusion that he had in fact come down with a rather bad flu. He was nuzzled under a mound of blankets that every couple of hours would be thrown off at the onset of a hot sweat even though he knew he’d be freezing in about 10 minutes and have to pull them all back up. He was surrounded by an ever growing number of used tissues and half empty cold and flu medicine packets. You’d been there the whole time insisting that you loved being the care taker for him like he’d done multiple times for you in the 10 months you’d been together. And it was true, plus he was cute when he was sick, he was super cuddly, wanting nothing but you to be next to him holding him close. You knew getting sick yourself was inevitable but you really couldn’t care less, he needed you and you relished in it.

“You need to eat more than that, two spoonfuls isn’t enough” you said, trying to get him to have at least another few mouthfuls of the soup you had prepared but he refused like a stubborn child. “C’mon its pumpkin, your favourite, please baby have some more, I promise it will make you feel better” he huffed and cautiously pushed himself up into a sitting position “Hm fine i’ll have some more, but only because I love you”. “I love you too, plus you want to be better for Christmas Day, being sick on Christmas is the worst. Eat up buttercup! I’m going to duck to the shop and grab a few things to finish out the Christmas shopping before it gets crazy over the next few days. That better be gone when I get back” you said giving him a quick kiss on the lips. “Ok, can you get me some more tissues and cough drops? My throat is still killing me” he said with a pout “Ok baby I’ll add them to the list, I’ll be back in an hour or so, don’t forget to drink water, and take another cold and flu, the last one will be starting to wear off soon an-” “I think I can handle it babe, just go!” Harry laughed, urging you to get out the door. “Fine! Fine! I’m going! Love you baby” you responded, grabbing your keys and twirling your scarf around your neck before opening the door and bracing the brisk December air.

You’d come home about 2 hours later, trudging inside struggling slightly with the 6 bags of last minute Christmas supplies and a few gifts. You walked down the hallway, dropping the bags on the kitchen island with thud. “Baby how are you feeling? Did you take your cold and flu?” you said, walking into the lounge only to be met with a very asleep Harry, cuddled deep into his blanket nest, messy curls stuck to his slightly sweaty forehead. You placed a soft kiss on his forehead before puling the blankets up slightly, doing your best to gently tuck him in. The room was a mess so you grabbed a spare plastic bag and started tidying the mess. Amongst the tissues, medicine and cough drop wrappers strewn across the coffee table was his leather bound journal, wide open with the a pen resting in the the middle of the two papers. As you reached across to grab the rubbish that surrounded it, you couldn’t help but catch a glimpse of what was freshly written in the journal. What you read made your heart sink, “I really do love her, please don’t let this be another failed relationship where the love is only from one side again. I don’t think I could handle another broken heart at Christmas. I need her to love me too”. It took you a moment to process those words. Why would he ever think that you weren’t truly in love with him? When he’d said ‘I love you’ you’d said it right back, tears in your eyes, no hesitation or questioning whether you loved him back because it was so obvious that you did. You knew his last couple of relationships didn’t end well but you had no idea that his heart had been broken once or maybe twice at what was meant to be the most magical time of the year.

The sound of Harry starting to stir awake snapped you out of your thoughts, quickly swiping the last few tissues into the bag, flipping the journal closed as if you’d read nothing. Although you couldn’t hide the sadness in your face, the fact that you were on the verge of tears was all too evident. “Mmm you’re back” Harry mumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Yep, got everything done, all ready for Christmas day now.” you tried to brush off what you’d just found out but your voice was every so slightly wavering. “Babe are you ok?” He said, reaching out to grab your free hand, stopping you from trying to walk away. A tear slid down your cheek at his words, you frantically tried to wipe it away and brush it off “Yeah yeah I’m fine” you assured but he wasn’t that stupid. “No you’re not, what happened? Did something happen while you were out? Are you hurt?” he worried about you going out by yourself now that your relationship was known to the world. Your features softened, you debated with yourself on whether to mention what you’d just read, on one hand it’s a massive invasion of privacy and it was obviously not meant for your eyes to see but you also needed him to understand that you were committed, fully, to this relationship, to him. “Baby you know I love you right? No ifs ands or buts, I really truly love you” you said, finalising your decision, not answering the questions he’d posed. For a moment he looked completely confused, the sudden profession of your love for him taking him by surprise but then it clicked and his eyes flicked across to his journal.

His expression changed to one of guilt. “Did I do something that made you question it? Do I not show it enough? I don’t know what else I can do!” you said, kneeling down to his level, taking his hands into yours, him gripping them tighter than he ever had. “No baby its nothing you did, I’ve just had so many failed relationships that I can’t turn my brain off when it starts questioning things. You know it was around Christmas two years ago that my last proper relationship broke down?” He was nearly crying, his already red eyes welling up. You knew his last girlfriend was a piece of work but you never imagined she’d be that heartless, especially at Christmas. “Harry I had no idea” you said, placing your hands on his cheeks, lifting his tired sad eyes to meet your similarly watery ones “I can promise you though, right here right now, that that will never happen with me. I love you more than I have ever loved anyone. Not only have you added to my life in the most positive way but you have changed me for the better. You helped me realise my worth. You are the most kind, most genuine, most loving partner I have ever have and ever intend on having because you are my end zone Harry. There is no doubt in my mind that you are my person and you shouldn’t have any doubt either. I love you H, and I will forever.” The tears were rolling down his cheeks, as they were yours, a watery smile on his lips. You pulled in him, placing your lips ever so gently on his, solidifying the words that you’d just said. His hands rose to your cheeks, wiping away your tears. “Thank you” is all he could manage to say. “Thank you for what?” you enquired, puzzled by his response. “Thank you for loving me, for loving me entirely. I love you so much” he said before pulling you up into the warmest hug. You smiled, finally content with him knowing that there was never a need to be insecure, you loved him and he loved you and that was that.

You pulled away from the hug, sniffing back the rest of the tears “Ok now that we’ve got that all sorted, have you taken your cold and flu? You’re feeling a little warm” he couldn’t help but chuckle at you getting straight back into carer mode. “I did take them and I ate all of my soup I promise, all I want right now is for you to stay here with me, I need a proper cuddle.” You laughed, happily obliging, plopping yourself down next to him, his arms wrapping themselves securely around your waist with yours around his neck “I love you baby” you said, pecking a kiss to his slightly sweaty neck “I love you too baby, so much” he said, placing a soft kiss on your forehead before closing his eyes contently asking himself what he ever did to deserve any of this.

This is another instalment of the ‘The Words you Speak’ series, I’d normally put the link but putting links seems to have been what stopped this post from being viewable so just click on my profile and the Masterlist link is at the top! xx

[homeformyheart]

tonight - adam du mortain x f!detective (twc)

day 15 - single

author’s note: @keybleminded suggested the single bed trope for this prompt and this is what i came up with; sorry that it’s a little less fluffy than i originally intended. i hope you all enjoy!

copyright: all characters, except my oc detective, are owned by mishka jenkins @seraphinitegames. series/pairing: the wayhaven chronicles – adam du mortain x f!detective (regina bishop) rating/warnings: 16+; teeny tiny angst, one bed trope, implied drugging word count: 1.6k based on/prompt: day 15 – single from #28dateswithunitbravo challenge by @wayhavenmonthly summary: the night before a recon mission, farah and regina get into a little bit of trouble and adam keeps regina company through the night.

tonight

farah ran into the room and jumped on to the full-sized bed in the room, which was just big enough to be comfortable for two people, if those two people were willing to get cozy. it was the only decent thing in the very small hotel room, besides the small television, and regina was thankful they only needed to spend one night here. tomorrow morning, they would scout out the supposed rendezvous site and hopefully be back in wayhaven by nightfall.

regina sighed and put her duffel bag on the floor before taking off her coat. “i can’t believe there’s only one bed. didn’t adam fill out the paperwork?”

“why, you wishing he was here instead so you could cozy up on the only bed in the room like in the movies?” farah teased, slipping her shoes off and making herself comfortable.

regina rolled her eyes. “like that would ever happen. you all don’t need to sleep, remember? adam would just say i should take the bed because i need the rest while he stays up and keeps watch ‘for my protection’,” she said, using air quotes to emphasize her point.

“that was a great adam impression! it’s too bad you’re not into me, because i would totally pretend it was really cold and we needed to cuddle to keep warm,” farah winked.

“well it actually is pretty cold, so you wouldn’t have to pretend. and we could still cuddle if you want,” regina offered, chuckling.

farah sighed loudly. “not in the way that i know you want to with adam,” she chuckled at the flush that started creeping up regina’s neck before her gaze fell on a flyer placed carefully on the nightstand.

“can we go to this?”

regina skimmed the flyer that farah handed to her. “we’re supposed to get up early tomorrow. i don’t know if going out tonight is a good idea.”

“but it’s singles night! i’ve never gotten to go to one of these before,” farah pleaded, even as she started rummaging through their duffel bags for a more appropriate outfit.

the pros and cons ran through regina’s mind. on the one hand, it would be a chance to relax a little before the mission and distract herself from thinking about adam for a bit. on the other, they could be putting the mission at risk by potentially not being rested for tomorrow or exposing themselves unintentionally.

“i’ve never seen you wear this,” farah said, holding up a shimmery gold draped halter top with thin straps. “let’s go!”

why had she even packed that for an overnight mission? farah tossed it at her and motioned for her to go get changed.

back at the warehouse

the grandfather clock in the warehouse living room ticked loudly in the otherwise quiet space. the other members of unit bravo were enjoying their brief reprieve from farah’s usual antics. nate was reading on the couch and morgan was silently blowing smoke rings from her usual corner.

on any other night, he would be thoroughly enjoying a quiet evening to catch up on paperwork and otherwise relax. he kept telling himself it was a simple recon mission, the type they executed seamlessly numerous times. farah was the best for this type of mission and he trusted her to get regina out of any dangerous situations.

but for some reason, the quiet of the evening was still too loud for him.

he gripped the pen even tighter until the plastic was just on the edge of cracking, bending against even less than a tenth of his strength.

he missed the hum. there was a palpable energy that seemed to emanate from regina that touched anyone in her vicinity wherever she went. an energy that relaxed as often as it moved and matched the steady hum of her heartbeat.

a sound he sorely missed.

adam froze at the revelation, his body as still as the air, except for the crack of the pen as it snapped in half. the sound was quickly muffled by the harsh ring of his phone, jolting him back to the moment. farah’s name flashed across the tiny screen, fear filling his stomach in a way that was becoming all too familiar.

“i will be right there,” he growled into the phone after less than a minute.

nate looked up from his book. “is everything all right? do you need us?”

“no, i will handle it,” adam said firmly, grabbing his coat on the way out.

* * * * * it didn’t take long for adam to find them. even if he didn’t have regina’s scent and heartbeat memorized even more than farah’s (the fleeting thought made his brow furrow), the ruckus they were causing outside the bar would alert anyone to their location.

he sighed and made his way over to where farah was holding up a very drowsy regina, who could barely stand on her own, which he partially blamed on the impractical heels she was wearing and the icy snow on the ground.

“adam, thanks for coming. i think our detective here is going to need to get to bed,” farah said slyly, a mischievous twinkle in her eye that made adam groan inwardly.

he let his gaze wander up and down regina’s body for a fraction of a second longer than necessary to assess her physical well-being, which he knew would not go unnoticed by farah. he tucked one arm under her knees and let farah place regina’s upper body on his other arm so he could carry her, shifting her head to lean against his shoulder.

they made their way back to the hotel room, with heightened speed, farah quickly getting regina changed and comfortable while adam scanned the perimeter.

“what happened?” he asked quietly, once regina was tucked under the covers.

farah sighed. “we went to a singles night event at the bar and she got a lot of attention. i think someone may have tried to drug her. she didn’t have that much to drink when she started feeling dizzy.”

adam pressed his lips into a thin line in an attempt to keep his stoic mask in place. “is she alright?”

“she’s had a lot of water and should be able to sleep it off,” farah fidgeted with the ends of her scarf. “i’m sorry adam; it was my idea to go out and—”

“this is not your fault, farah. you are not to be blamed for inconsiderate fools who would drug and take advantage of someone,” he said softly, putting a hand on her shoulder and farah found only sincerity in adam’s gaze. “at least regina—i mean, the detective, is fine. we can postpone the mission.”

“actually, about that – the site we were going to observe tomorrow is the bar,” farah explained. “it’s definitely a supernatural gathering place and there’s something in the basement. there’s not much more we can uncover without proper surveillance equipment.”

adam nodded. “good work. we’ll report back to agent bishop in the morning then. in the meantime, get some rest. i will keep watch.”

a thoughtful look passed through farah’s face before being replaced by a mischievous one. “actually, i think i will head back to the warehouse and you can keep the detective warm,” she said, zipping around the room and packing up her things before adam could protest.

“the thermostat’s broken and she’s shivering like crazy. you wouldn’t want her to catch cold, would you?” farah teased, hovering by the doorway.

adam opened his mouth to say something before promptly closing it. he glanced over at regina’s form under the duvet, and he could tell that farah was right. she was shivering, her body trying to process and expel whatever the toxin was.

he groaned and rubbed his face before giving a resigned nod, unlacing his combat boots one by one and sitting carefully on the other side of the bed.

“i’m pretty sure whatever is in her system will keep her from remembering anything in the morning, so you can let your guard down a little. i won’t tell anyone,” farah said, giving him a sympathetic smile before disappearing and locking the door behind her.

adam sighed and shifted closer to regina, carefully laying on top of the covers so as not to disturb her and maintain some space between them. he frowned at the sight of her shivering and curled up into a ball, arms wrapped tightly around her shoulders.

it was his duty to keep the detective safe. it was natural that he be concerned for her well-being as a member of his team.

he hovered his hand close to her cheek, his thumb ghosting over her pale skin. she let out an almost inaudible moan, her shoulders shaking against the thick duvet.

he needed to find a way to warm her up. he snaked his arm around her waist, tucking one end of the duvet under her body and rolling her on top of his chest, effectively rolling her up in the covers. her head lay on his heart, and he hoped the sound of his heartbeat drumming against his ribcage loudly wouldn’t wake her up.

she let out a contented sigh that tickled his chin and he brought his other arm to her side, rubbing soothing circles up and down her arm and side to warm up her body. her shivering subsided as he did so, her breathing returning to its normal pace.

he closed his eyes and allowed the flutter in his chest to expand, the scent of her surrounding him fully.

just for tonight, he would relish being this close to her.

and in the morning, he would tell himself it was purely for her well-being and nothing else.

* * * * * permatag: @kelseaaa; @kat-tia801; @anotherbeingsworld; @crackerdumortain; @pearlsandsteel; @gloynporslen; @writer-ish; @sosolenoo; @alyssalauren; @fhauvilles; @wayhavenots; @gingerbreton; @takemyopenheart​;