#*gestures wildly to their whole life built together*

[lovecolibri]

Well, I finished both amnesia/presumed dead Eddie fics that I remembered the premise of and pulled from my bookmarks. Both were absolutely as good as I remembered however neither of them had a specific scene I remember from an amnesia!Eddie story where he thinks Buck is lying about them not being together because all signs point to them being in a serious relationship. So, the hunt for more amnesia!Eddie fics continues! If you know which one it was, hit me up!

[galaxyedging]

No outbreak Joel Miller x inexperienced f!reader

Dave York x inexperienced f!reader

WC:3.9k

Summary: With the summer coming to an end, Joel teaches you one more lesson.

Warnings: Unprotected P in V sex. Protected P in V sex (explicit, to make up for all the unprotected sex. Use condoms!) Rough oral m!receiving. Swearing. Talk of adultery. Dave York.

Summer Schooled

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Masterlist

It turns out Sarah was actually ill. Just a little tummy bug but it kept her home for a couple of days. When she was starting to recover on the second day you'd dropped in to visit her. 

"Hey!" She'd perked up as you entered the living room where she lay in a nest of blankets and pillows. 

"Hi. I wanted to come check on you. My mom made you some soup." You gestured over your shoulder to where you'd handed the container to Joel in a very awkward interaction. Joel hadn't so much as texted you in the last couple of days so when he opened the door neither of you were sure what to say. He'd made polite conversation, thanked you for the soup, then invited you in to talk to Sarah. 

"Thank you. You wanna stay and watch a movie? We're bingeing bad action movies."

Hesitantly, you looked at Joel. He gave you a half shrug and waved his hand as if he was pushing the ball into your court.

"Yeah. I'd love that. I've missed you this week." That was true, you had. 

When you leave you are going to miss Sarah and the York girls. They're all going to grow up into such amazing women. Funny, smart, strong. Each one has their own distinct little character. They never failed to make you laugh or to come out with something to make you think.

The movie was not even half way over when Sarah fell fast asleep. Her curled up form gently rose and fell with each even breath. Even you standing from the end of the sofa she'd given you was enough to wake her. Joel had tossed his head towards his office to get you to follow him.

"Hey." The same greeting as his daughter but a wildly different tone. He seemed shy almost. With the doors now closed behind him he walked towards you. "I wanted to talk to you before you leave. I kind of got caught up in all of this." His hand came up to rub the back of his neck. "It was Dave's idea to play into all your doe eyed flirting. I know you're not as innocent as you've been making out or I swear to God I would never have touched you, legal or not. I got lost on a power trip. On having you on my terms. I haven't had much luck with women over the last decade. They didn't want to come second to Sarah or third to my business. Which I get…" he caught your eyes looking at him patiently. "...anyway. I just wanted to apologise. I hope I haven't put you off men for life just because…" he trailed off.

Tentatively, you lay a hand on the arm the was now across his chest gripping his other arm. "Because…?"

"Because I was lonely and needed to be seen as more than a father or a contractor. I wanted to be wanted. Fuck, I still don't know if you wanted me or the little fantasy we built up."

"It was definitely you Joel. I liked you plenty before that, because you're a great dad, because you're a competent contractor. It's all very hot. You're very hot, and funny, and smart, and if I were a few years older…"

"Just a few…?" He huffed out a laugh.

"Just a few." You smiled. "I would love to date you."

"How do I know you're not just flattering an old man to get some dick?"

"Because I could go get some old man dick from down the street with a whole lot less work."

"Fair. Make sure you get him tested first though. I did. Twice. I wasn't letting him near you until I knew he was clean."

"I figured you both would. I trust you."

"Just don't go trusting everyone like that." His arm wrapped around you to bring you into a hug. Your hands rested on his chest feeling his heartbeat softly. 

After a moment of just being together in each others arms, you placed a kiss to his lips. "I mean it, Joel. I think you're great and any woman would be lucky to have you." 

Before he could answer Sarah called his name.

Dave's knuckles turned white as his hand gripped over yours on the headboard. If the bed wasn't as sturdy it would have been slapping against the wall from the force of Dave's thrusts. His knees were in between yours spreading them as he took you from behind. The hand that wasn't on yours was working you clit in tight circles. 

"Fuck." He snarled into your hair. "I'm going to miss this pussy. You get so fucking wet…so hot…got me pussy drunk. I just want to keep slamming my dick home. Oh, shit. Ohhh." His cock twitched inside you as felt the warmth of his cum spread. 

For a second you were a little disappointed that you hadn't come yet, then you realised he was still very much hard."Dave?!"

"Little blue pill. I haven't got his pussy for much longer. I'm not wasting it." He carried on his furious pace. There was something about him fucking his cum deeper inside you than made your toes curl and had you coming around him. "Oh, Dave!"

"Oh, that's it. God, the way your tight little cunt clamps down further on my cock…ugh." He dragged you flush against him. The hand from the headboard palmed one of your breasts. He rolled your nipple in between his fingers. His lips sucked at your neck. Twice you'd had to yank his hair to stop him leaving marks. He'd playfully nipped at your ear before moving his lips to kiss somewhere else. He pushed you over the edge twice more before finally beginning to lose his erection. 

When the two of you collapsed on the bed it was odd how your instinct was to find your own space. Even with the oxytocin coursing through your veins giving your vision a rosy tint, you didn't feel the need for any more physical contact. Unlike with Joel where you craved his gentle touch.

"Well I think that's all the lessons I have in me today." Dave slowed his breathing as he lay on his back, his cock soft against his thigh.

"Lessons? You don't seem to be teaching me much. You just rail me." You laughed through your panting.

"Just rail you? Some women would kill for me to just rail them."

"You know what I mean." You slapped his bare chest.

"Up. I gotta change these sheets before Carol gets back." He held out his hand to pull you to your feet before setting to work.

"Why do you cheat on her?" The question was out of your mouth before you thought about it. 

Surprisingly, Dave stopped and sat on the bed, the half bundled up sheets in his hands. He wrang them as he spoke. "I don't think of it as cheating. It's like we're in an open marriage, we just haven't agreed on it out loud. Carol's had her fair share of men."

"So why not talk to her?" You took a chance and sat next to him, just close enough to provide some comfort with your presence.

"I might not be in love with her but I love her. I'd miss her if she were gone. She's family. I'd miss the time we spend together with the girls, as a family. I can't risk that." He turned to look you in the eyes as he spoke. Those brown eyes were so full of sincerity you almost reached out to hug him. Almost.

Bringing yourself back from being lost in his eyes you asked. "Isn't fucking me in her bed risky?" 

"No, that's just sex. Talking about our relationship. That's the risk. That's where things can snowball. I won't do that to my girls."

Again you softened just a touch towards him. Enough to place the barest of kisses to his cheek. "You're a good father, Dave. You're not winning any awards for being a good person but you're a good father."

"Thank you." It was sincere. The two of you sat in the moment. A softness sitting between you that had never been there before. It was pleasant until Dave broke it. "Right. Up. I've got to wash your cum out of my wife's sheets." The playful smirk on his face showed you this was him slipping his mask back in place.

Friday night rolled around. This time on Sunday you'd be in your new home, ready to start your new life. It still didn't seem real. The last couple of years the itch to get out and see the world had been under your skin. Now you were close to finally scratching suddenly it was more of a subtle tingle that you could ignore. Being here with Joel, and Dave, seeing a new part of the world with them, that could be it for now. They could satisfy your wanderlust, as well as a few other lusts. College could wait a year. You could try to romanticise it all you wanted, the truth was cold feet were setting in bad. When Joel called you to look after Sarah you were relieved to have something to distract you.

The Miller's front door opened to reveal Joel. He was freshly showered, his damp hair was slicked back. He looked so good that you had to remind yourself that you were here for Sarah not him. Although you might have worn your short, button down tea dress hoping for even a quick moment with him.

"Hi, Mr Miller." You called Joel by his first name plenty of times in front of Sarah but putting up the pretence of respecting your elders helped to keep you from sliding into other habits with Joel. The last thing you wanted to do was slip up and touch him in front of Sarah.

The door closed behind you seconds before your back met it. Joel was crowding you up against it. His lips crushed to yours, his hand in your hair tugged sharply to open your mouth so he could fill it with his tongue. His other hand worked at pulling down your panties before two thick, calloused fingers skimmed your thigh before being pressed deep inside you. Joel's lips never left yours until the rhythmic pumping of his fingers and the brush of the heel of his palm had you calling his name. 

When he pulled away, leaving you a trembling mess with your panties around your knees being held up by the door, he flashed you that sinister grin. "Dave's got Sarah. He wanted to make up for basically being a piece of shit and stealing more time with you."

Excitement flushed your veins, your heart rate picked up, you felt you were in trouble. Part of you braced yourself when Joel stalked towards you. His chest was almost touching yours when he squatted down slowly, never breaking eye contact, to help you out of your panties. He licked one solidarity strip through your folds before standing up to kiss you. The tang of you on his tongue was electric.

"While he was bragging. He also said you said he doesn't teach you anything. Why don't you tell me what you want for a change? You can be in charge." This Joel was new to you. The predatory smirk was gone. His voice was soft. He wasn't Dom Joel. Or Mr Miller. Or the helpful handyman. This was Joel the equal. The fellow adult. Offering to fill a need.

Tears threatened to form in your eyes. "I'm moving back east, to a new place, I'll have a few friends I can meet up with but other than that I'm on my own in the big bad world. I'll be making my own choice then. Right now, I want you to make my choices for me. I want to be your good girl." 

This Joel gave you a small smile before it twisted and Dom Joel returned. "Oh, you are, Honey. Why don't you drop to your knees for me?" He didn't have to ask twice. His hand came up to cup your chin. His thumb brushed across your lips. "Such a pretty mouth. Why don't you put it to good use for me?" Your eyes flitted to the hard outline in his jeans. "Gone on. Help yourself."

Taking a deep breath to keep yourself together, you got to work on his belt and fly. Pushing his jeans out of the way, the back of your fingers grazed his length stretching his marled grey boxer briefs. The sigh that came from his lips was something you would keep with you for years to come. Literally. The world felt so out of your control at the minute, everything was out of your hands no matter how many lists or plans or vision boards you made. Right now though, as your hands slipped into Joel's underwear to pull out his heavy girth while his breath hitched in his chest, you felt pretty damn in control. 

Starting at his balls you licked a strip right the way up his entire length. He tasted a little musky but there was a cleanness there. His skin smelled faintly like his soap. The tip was salty and tangy due to the pre cum there. It was truly intoxicating. His body wanted you. It was getting ready to slip inside yours. You lapped at his slit for more. Joel's hands had been retrained at his sides, once you wrapped your lips around the head, all bets were off. Both of them buried in your hair. "Jesus. Such a good little whore."

The praise had you squirming at the leak between your legs. "You're treating me so well. Maybe I should do something for you. Remember when you nearly choked on Dave's dick?"

Your throat tightened at the memory, Joel felt it. "Ssshh. It's okay, Darlin'. We'll take it easy." One of his hands held the back of your neck while the other softly brushed your hair back. "Just breathe." Gripping the base of his cock he fed it forward. Each vein rippled over your stretched lips. The weight of his hard length on your tongue made you want to suck. Joel groaned and rolled his hips for a moment. "Naughty girl. Trying to distract me. Now you have to take it deeper. Give me your hand." He peeled your hand off his thigh and made a fist with it. "Now, squeeze it, and press your thumb here. Keep breathing through your nose. Nice and slow. There you go. Oh, shit."

The blunt head of his cock pushed at the back of your tongue kicking in your gag reflex. Concentrating on your fist and breathing slowly you were able to fight it off. Until Joel pushed just a little too far. That time you gagged and coughed around his cock. A line of spit connected your lips to the head when Joel pulled out. "Good girl. You did so well." He soothes as you still spluttered. "You're going to have to do better though." He pulled you up by your hair to push his cock past your lips. The roughness of him made you weak for him. In that moment you would have given him anything. It's freeing to feel like you can completely hand yourself over to him. It's the same with Dave. You trust both of them not to hurt you, even in an effort to keep up their illusion of complete control. He was able to thrust a few times, taking you to the edge of your comfort zone before you gagged again. Once you composed yourself, he held his mouth watering length in front of you. "Do you want more, Baby?" 

Wiping the tears from your eyes, you nodded up at him. "Oh, my good girl. You'll get more." 

With an ease born from his strength, Joel swept you up into his arms.  Laying you on the sofa he slowly undid the buttons of your dress and pushed it off you. His fingers slid under the lace of your bar to push it up.Once your breasts were exposed to him he set about licking, kissing, sucking, caressing every inch as if he was committing them to memory. Maybe he was, you brushed the thought away and gave yourself back over to his touch.

"You're so fucking beautiful. You know that? Truly beautiful. Never let anyone tell you any different." His tone told you the other Joel was back.

This Joel stripped naked before laying a blanket on the sofa and sitting down. "Here, Honey." He pulled you over to straddle his lap. "You can have all the cock you want but I want you to take it. I want you to ride me. Here." Reaching over to his jeans, strewn over the sofa arm, he fished something from the pocket.

"A condom?" For a moment your heart sank. Had he been with someone else?

"I want you to show me you know how to use one of these. Then I want you to show me you know how to take what you need. Well?"

You could do this. You'd practised on cucumbers and watched videos. Hold his cock at the bottom. Make sure the condom is the right way. Pinch the tip to keep the air out, put it on like a little hat then roll it down. Joel's cock wasn't anything like a cucumber. The cucumber didn't make you wet as you slid your hand down it. Fuck, who said putting condoms on ruins the mood.

"Was that the first time you've done that?" Joel raised an eyebrow.

"On a penis, yes. I have some practice with cucumbers." Both Joel's eyebrows shot up. "Not like that!" You giggled. "Just practising putting the condom on."

"Well it paid off. Now you can slip me inside." 

"How…?" God, you felt stupid for having to ask.

"Just guide it with your hand. Once the tip is lined up you can sink down onto it."

Taking him in your hand you got him in the general area then tried to sink down a little. It took a little manoeuvring to get him actually lined up thankfully your slick aided you in finding the right spot. He slid up along your body until he was notched at your entrance. Slowly you sank down on him until you were full.

"There we go. I'll never get tired of that. You fit me like a glove." His words stung your heart. He was talking as if you had a future. Like he would get the opportunity to see if he could get tired. "Time to move, Darlin'. Take what you want."

"Er..how. How do I…? I mean up and down or…?"

"Do what feels right for you. Just don't go too hard or high if you want to bounce on it. I don't want you to break nothin'. Try lifting up a little and just moving back and forth for now."

"Okay. Thank you." 

"You're welcome." The shy smiles you exchanged seemed completely out of place while he was buried inside you. 

Following Joel's advice you moved your hips back and forth. Each time his hard length tapped against the front wall of your pussy, just brushing shy of that perfect spot. For a while you just enjoyed the steady rhythm. Joel seems to too. He leaned back sighing, settling into the sofa at his back.

When your nerves get the better of you, you break the near silence. "Is that…? Does it feel good for you?" 

"So good, Sweetheart. You always do. Is it good for you?"

"It doesn't quite feel like when you do it." The tiny voice that leaves you doesn't say 'grown woman off to college'.

Joel smiles "I'll take that as a compliment. Try bouncing up and down a little or circling your hips."

Bouncing sounds like the closest to when they drive into you so you gave it a go. Rising up, you dropped back down on him. "Oh, Joel!" 

"There you go. Right there, huh?" 

You rose up to drop down on him again, and again. "Fuck. Joel!"

The head of his cock was hitting that spot just right. The both of you could feel your orgasm approaching. "That's it, Baby. You look gorgeous like this."

Joel's praise and your release within reach made you speed up only for Joel's length to slip out from you. "Shit. Sorry." 

"It's okay. It happens. Keep going." Slipping him back in was even easier this time. Your body drew him in deep. A few rounds of your hips and you got back into the rhythm. Soon Joel started to groan more. The vibration of it was under your palms as you pushed off his chest. His head rolled back on the sofa, exposing that beautiful neck. The warm low light from the lamp caused the sheen of sweat on his skin to glisten. He really was the most handsome man you'd ever seen. 

"Fuck, Beautiful. You're going to make me come. Would you like that? Me, filling this condom up because you ride me..ugh…so fucking well?" His voice was strained. He was so close and it was all down to you.

"Joel. I'm gonna…" A silent scream left you as your whole body lit up from where you were joined.

With your tight cunt milking him Joel couldn't hold out any longer. "Oh. Shit. Shit. Oh. Take it, Baby. Take it." He moaned through his release. 

Part of you missed him filling you, claiming you. One look at his face showed that you had claimed him this time. He looked at you, those big brown eyes filled with something you didn't want to think about. Years later you would accept it as love.

"Right." He cleared his throat. "You know how to deal with the condom when you get up?"

"I think so." Reaching down you held the condom in place as you lifted off his softening length.

"Good girl." He took over, pulling off the condom before tying it off and placing it in the discarded wrapper. "I'm going to put it in Dave's mailbox."

"You wouldn't." You laughed curling into his side.

"I have to admit. I am a little jealous." The look on his face made him look boyish.

"Don't be. He's not the one I'm thinking of staying for." Your nerve failed you and you turned away from him.

His finger was curled under your chin and bringing you back instantly. "Sweetheart, I…"

"I know. It's a stupid idea. I can't base my future on this. It's a nice fantasy though." You offered him a smile before kissing his palm.

"It is." A hand cupped the back of your head, curling you back into his side, holding you close. "You know, this doesn't have to end right here and now. You'll be back to visit your mom. If you haven't found anyone your age, I still think I have a few more lessons I can teach you."

A weight lifted from your chest. "I could be up for that."

Little did you both know that that would be the last time you would ever set foot in that house.

[sister-morticia]

The Long Road Ahead PART 1 (Eric Draven x Reader)

So here’s another one, can’t help myself-what can I say

WARNINGS: FLUFF, PURE FLUFF

You never took Eric for the camping type. He was a musician, which meant he would have travelled on the road a lot while touring, but you never pictured him as the kind of guy who always had a tent handy. So when he told you one weekend that he had planned out a whole three days out in the wilderness alone with you, you couldn’t hide your shock.

“Camping?”

A smirk crossed his lips, mischievous—devilish even. “Absolutely,” he

He busied himself packing, while you just followed him around, lost and befuddled. “Wait, wait, wait. Actual camping?” you raked your fingers through your hair, stopping when he paused by the sink to rinse out the thermos.

“Well what other kind of camping is there as opposed to actual camping?” he quipped, giving you a quick peck on the lips before moving around you.

 The next thing you knew, you were sucking in the cold air as you clung to him on the back of his motorcycle. You were going hellishly fast, not that it seemed to bother Eric one bit. You, on the other hand, gripped him so tightly you could feel his ribcage restrict with each breath.

“Hey, baby, could you ease up a little back there?” he yelled over the cutting wind that snapped through, “I kind of need to breathe if I’m going to be able to steer this thing!”

You quickly retracted, screaming a little when you lost your bearing. You latched onto the back of the seat, while Eric’s hand instinctively found your leg. He kept a pressure on your thigh with one hand, grounding you.

“You alright?” he kept his eyes on the winding road ahead, and with your affirmative “uh-huh”, he released you and the distance between the two of you and the first stop slowly began to close.

 Eric made a start on the tent, a banged up husk of the thing that said it was built for two. It looked as if it could barely fit one. It was torn and tattered, the zips choked when pulled and the flyscreen seemed to no longer serve their purpose. You watched on with amusement as Eric continued to wrestle with the line tensioners, grunting and chuckling to himself as he did.

“Need any help over there?” you teased him, taking your polaroid camera to capture the hilarity.

He turned at the perfect moment for a candid shot. He gestured to you in feigned annoyance, his expression dramatic. “Really, babe? Come on,”

You giggled from your distance away, waving the polaroid in the air as it developed. “Oh, this one’s a keeper,” you said loudly, smirking to yourself.

He dropped the line and within a second he was right there in front of you, eyes gazing into yours. His hands found your waist and waited there, while your arms curled around his neck.

“The picture,” he plants a kiss on your forehead, “or me?”

Your chest rumbles to life with a hearty, well-earned laugh. “Need you ask?”

You kissed him then, all flirtations melting aside. He ran his hands through your hair as the wind picked up behind you. Your hair whipped around your face, obscuring your features.  You pulled away from his kiss then and huffed. You groped at the strands wildly, before Eric tucked a large tuft behind your ear. He leaned in to kiss you again, but a loud flapping sound drew both of your attentions away. You looked over your shoulder and saw the tent rolling across the field. Eric had forgotten to ground the tensioners, of course.

“Ah, shucks.”

 You managed to get the tent back, so you had a place to sleep for the night—the first one, at least. Eric was excited to reveal that he’d packed hand warmers and a pack of cards, as well as some extra soft blankets and one large pillow. He lit a rusty old camping lamp at his side, leaving only the left of his profile visible, his other side hidden in shadow.

“Do you want to hear a scary story?” he teased, bringing the lamp to his face below his chin to create an ominous air.

“No,” you pointed a finger at him almost in accusation, “the last time you told me a scary story, I couldn’t sleep for a week.”

He chuckled, shaking his head, “That was a good one though, huh? Managed to get you all bothered. Bothered enough to cuddle up to me.”

You slapped him on the arm playfully, “You lapped it up!”

“Couldn’t resist,”

But you nestled into him anyway, letting all your breath fall out of your chest where it’d been building. You relaxed in his embrace then, and he let out a contented sigh. He ran his hands over your hair, winding a strand absentmindedly around his index finger.

“I love you,” he said suddenly. You shot up and stared into his eyes. He placed his hands on either side of your shoulders to steady you.

“What did you say?”

He looked evenly at you, his eyes still soft and smiled, “I said I love you, Y/N.”

Your jaw drops and you blink rapidly, like you’d been smacked in the face with ice cold water. But then the brightest twinkle shone in your eyes and beamed across your face. You reached out to touch his cheek, your fingertips feather light on the curve of his jaw.

“You really mean that?”

His smile was sure, warm. He leaned in and planted another kiss to your lips, slow this time.

When you pulled away, catching your breath, you looked at him expectantly.

“Does that answer your question?” he quipped, wriggling his brows together in the trickster way he always does.

“I love you, too.”

And all the tension in your bones melted away as you fell asleep in his arms, listening to the faint pitter patter of raindrops on the tent. You could feel the damp seeping inside, soaking your pyjamas, but Eric pulled you closer to him with a smile. He was warm enough to keep the cold from getting to you.

[mrsgiovanna]

A series of Firsts - Don Giorno x Fem! Reader

A cute Valentines day scenario with husband Giogio, nsfw-ish toward the end, just something that's been on my mind for a little while. Cut for length🥺💭❤️

Word count: 2318

Everything that could have gone wrong had inevitably gone wrong. It was the first Valentines day that you and your beloved would be spending together as a married couple, so needless to say, you wanted to make it a tiny bit more noteworthy than the usual extravagant outings you’ve grown accustomed to. You knew that things like this weren’t really important, but blamed your sentimental self for wanting to commemorate each “first” event in your first year of wedded life. As luck would have it though, every single one of your plans would be foiled, however, in retrospect, your end goal would actually be achieved.

There was still a chill in the February air, but it was a beautiful sunny day nonetheless. Giorno had already left by the time your sleep had broken, but you had woken up to a beautiful red rose and a small heart shaped chocolate on his pillow with a simple note in his handwriting. You smiled when you read the note, three simple words, but it meant more to you than anything. You lazed about in bed for a while, thinking about all the things you wanted to do today. The villa was quiet, save for the few guards that Giorno would not compromise on, you had given most of his other staff the weekend off, wanting it to just be the two of you. Or so you’d thought…

The spanner foiling this plan, came in the form of some important conference call with an associate from the Speedwagon foundation. Well, calling him an “associate” might be a bit cold, seeing that it was Giorno’s relative, Jotaro Kujo, who wanted to speak to him himself. Giorno knew it must have been something very important for Jotaro to reach out to him of all people given the circumstances and how suspicious he was in the beginning. So off he went, you presumed to his study, to discuss whatever issue was plaguing Jotaro. Deciding it was time to get out of bed, you quickly showered and threw on something comfortable, knowing you were going to put on a knock out outfit later on. No sooner had you stepped out of the master bedroom did you hear a loud bang, and felt something whizzing past you, missing your face by a hair’s breath. Being immediately on guard, you summoned your stand ready to attack the enemy that had infiltrated your home when you heard the familiar whining of Mista’s sex pistols…

“Mistaaaaa, he’s not here, can we go eat now?”

“Well good morning to you too number 5,” you said to the miniscule stand, who started to hide himself in your hair to escape the harassment from number 3.

“Awww has Mista has been starving you guys again? How awful, lets go find you guys something to eat,” you teased, earning an annoyed look from the gunslinger, to which he retorted, “Excuse me, they’re well fed and have nothing to complain about!”

As you both made your way to the kitchen, you asked Mista what brought him to the villa this early in the morning. You were hoping against your better judgment that it wasn’t anything too serious, but by the time Mista was done relaying his report about the unrest in some of the outlying areas, you knew it had to be nipped in the bud before it gained momentum. Wanting to feed the tiny gremlins, but being unsure of what they would eat in the morning, you set up some cured meats, fruits, nuts and some warmed cornetto on a platter.

The delicious smell of warm, buttery pastry had whet your appetite as well, so you decided to warm up more pastries for you and Mista and started making cappuccinos for the both of you. By this point you and Mista had been around each other for long enough and had been through so much together, that the bond felt more familial than anything else.

Setting down the food in front of you and Mista, the facts of his report were still playing on your mind.

“So where is Giorno anyway? I thought he’d taken some time off, which is why I came straight here,” asked Mista as he bit off a piece of his strawberry preserve filled croissant.

“He’s in the middle of an important conference call, he might be a while… what do you think about what’s happening in in the new territories? Do you think we can handle the situation among ourselves?”

Perplexed by your question, Mista thought for a while before answering. “I suppose they aren’t the strongest stand users, between you, Fugo and myself, we should be able to take them out if the need arises… listen, I don’t like where you’re going with this,”

It was all the confirmation you needed as you spoke with determination, “Let’s go then, if we can end this before it has a chance to blow up then we should do it. Call Fugo, I’m sure he’ll be willing to go with us, I’ll text Gio to let him know.” It was the first time you’d taken a bold decision like that without so much as consulting with Giorno… and just like that, you had thrown the second spanner in the works without even knowing it, because what should have taken a couple of hours had ended up taking the better part of the day.

“I wonder…. where could she be… ” mused Giorno as he walked around the villa looking for you. The conference call had taken longer than expected so he sought you out to make it up to you, but you were nowhere to be found. Deciding to call you, he’d come across the text message you’d sent him just before you left. His eyes darkened as he tried to call you.

“Oh hi Gio, are you okay? We’re kinda in the middle of something here,” you answered, trying to sound unfazed despite the ruckus taking place behind you.

“Cara, how can you just rush off into a dangerous situation like this? I’m very upset with you, come back here immediately,”

You felt very guilty when he still addressed you with his usual kindness despite how angry he sounded.

“Gio, I’m so sorry, I’ll explain everything when we get back, it will be over soon I promise,” you say, trying to placate both his temper and your own feelings.

“You guys have an hour to come back, failing which, I’ll have to come there myself. Honestly, you’re lucky I love you as much as I do, amore…” with that Giorno ended the call and went back to his study, hoping that you guys would be okay.

Upon arriving at Giorno’s study, you found him to be the picture of serenity, quietly working at his desk with some soft music playing in the background. He was relieved to see that you three delinquents were okay, most of all, you- his wife, who unfortunately was the biggest troublemaker of the lot, however he didn’t let that relief show on his face…

Just as Mista was about to speak, Giorno raised his hand to silence him,

“Did everything work out as expected in your marvelous misadventure?”

“you could say so… the job is done”

“is anyone hurt?”

“no, everyone’s alright,”

“then go home, it’s been a long day,” sensing everyone’s surprise, Giorno explained himself further.

“I trust you all, I want to make that clear… but for God’s sake, at least 1 person needs to be the voice of reason, nonetheless, I’m glad everything worked out for the best, just think before wildly rushing out next time,”

Mista and Fugo left the office leaving you alone with Giorno. You waited to hear the little electronic beep that the door made when it locked before you gently lowered yourself into Giorno’s strong arms, settling down comfortably in his lap.

“I’m sorry for upsetting you tesoro… you have so much to do, I just wanted to share some of the burden with you,”

“I know bella, I’m sorry too, I didn’t mean to snap at you earlier, I was just worried, I’d like to keep you away from these things as much as possible,”

“I can hold my own, you know,”

“I know bella, but you shouldn’t have to,” replied Giorno, lazily weaving his fingers through your hair. He drew your head closer for a kiss, starting off gentle, growing ever more passionate until you both stopped yourselves.

“Come amore mio, there isn’t a lot of time left, you have to get ready for our date, remember?”

Reluctantly, you got off his lap and left him with a feather light kiss to his temple.

After a long while of titivating with your look, you made your way back to Giorno’s study, finding him dreamily admiring the final seconds of the winter sunset. The fading golden light made his hair shine like spun gold and drew out the various jeweled specks of his eyes. He turns towards you, and his expression changes entirely, as if time itself had stood still.

“What do you think?” you ask, doing a little twirl and ending off in a pose, you giggle at your gesture.

“Sei cosi bella, you’re absolutely breathtaking amore mio,” Giorno says as he extends his arm to you, “are you ready to go?”

You smile sweetly and link your arm through his, just as you’re about to leave, the electricity cuts out.

No matter, you both wait patiently, expecting the generator to kick in at any moment, but nothing happens. Giorno’s study is more akin to a bunker, an impenetrable fortress built with the intention of keeping you both safe if the need ever arose. Grabbing his cellphone, Giorno calls one of the guards and asks him to check out the problem, as you are effectively stuck until you can get electricity back into the mechanism of the door.

You tinkered around the draws and cupboards, and managed to find all the aromatherapy candles and burners you got your husband to help him relax, you would have been annoyed that they were buried away if you weren’t as relieved as you were. It was quickly getting dark, and without the twinkling lights of the skyline, the room was becoming evermore difficult to navigate. After lighting up a considerable amount of the candles, you had to admit that the atmosphere was quite romantic.

“Well, they’ve found the problem, but can’t say how long it will take to fix, I could always try to use GE to break us out,”

“Break us out and do what my love? It looks like whole city is out, we’re probably in the safest place there is, come on, relax, we’ll just wait it out,” you reply as you pull him over to the couch. “see, this is nice right?” you say as you take your usual spot in his arms.

“Of course cara, I’m sorry, you’ve been patient with me recently, I know I’ve been very busy, so I just wanted to spoil you a bit,” Giorno’s voice was so gentle as he spoke, his fingers tracing circles onto your arm.

You were relieved as you felt him relax under your embrace, “for what it’s worth, happy Valentines day tesoro, I know things didn’t go according to anyone’s plan, but I’m still happy right here,” you utter, burying your face into the crook of Giorno’s neck.

“Happy Valentine’s day Amore mio, at least we’ll never forget this, and besides we have the rest of our lives to make up for it.”

The temperature started to drop the later it got, so Giorno decided to make use of his fireplace to make sure you didn’t get too cold, your slinky little evening dress offered little protection from the cold, not that he was complaining, it just meant that you would snuggle up closer to him. A yearning stirred in him when he looked back at you, bundled up in his large coat on the couch, you just looked so beautiful, the candlelight danced about in your eyes and your smile was the purest he’d ever seen.

“Are you okay bella? The room should warm up in a few moments. Ah, I know what would speed up the process… I recently acquired a very impressive bottle of wine…” mused Giorno as he found the bottle of Screaming Eagle Cabernet.

“Gio, isn’t that an insanely expensive bottle?”

“I’d hope so, it’s the 1992 vintage, imagine, we were just kids when this was made” he quipped, genuinely excited to crack open the extravagant alcohol.

“I thought you’d save something like that for a huge milestone like the birth of our first child or something of that magnitude. I just know how pricey it is,”

“Ah the birth of our child… conception of our child, it’s all the same”

Perplexed you asked, “caro, what are you saying?”

“What I’m saying bella, is that we’re freezing, the night is young and all we have for entertainment is each other’s wonderful company, whatever happens from here on out is up to the gods of fate, salute,”

And with a clink of your glasses and a gaze into each other’s eyes, you both took a sip of the wine. There was something irresistible about the way Giorno’s eyes glinted in the soft lighting. With a confident smirk, he drew you in for a passionate kiss, giving his hands permission to explore your beautiful body, drawing out those pretty sounds and lustful expressions that only he had the privilege of observing. Giorno was an intuitive lover, and you completely surrendered yourself to him. You both spent the rest of the night reveling in each other’s beauty and affection.

With arms and legs intertwined lovingly, breathing even and peaceful, you both slept blissfully unaware of the plans the mischievous gods of fate had in store for you.

[honey-coloured-passion]

‘Til Time Do Us Part - KarlNap (DreamSMP)

1.7k words

Summary: Karl meets, and eventually falls for a kind stranger. (This is based on time traveler Karl from Dream SMP canon!)

“Where, where am I?” Karl felt his head spinning as he stumbled out of a familiar library. Glancing around he noted the heaps of books stacked on each other, there were paintings of different faces adorned on the walls, and there was a young man sitting comfortably in an armchair, staring right at him. 

“Hi!” The stranger stood up, bunching up the papers he’d been staring at as he moved towards Karl. “You must be new to the library! I’m Sapnap.” the taller man stuck out his hand, Karl carefully took the handshake, noting the warm smile Sapnap was giving him. 

“Do you know exactly where we are?” Karl didn’t quite know the question to ask, he barely knew who he was at this point. But Sapnap seemed kind and welcoming, he gestured Karl to follow him into an adjacent room in the library.

Pointing at a row of maps he began, “you’re in Dream SMP, look, this is where we are. Then there’s L’manburg, or what’s left of it, Party Island, the prison, and ooh! I just put the new hotel Tommy’s building here as well. Looks good huh?” Sapnap gestured wildly around the crinkling brown paper with a beaming smile. Karl studied the map hoping to gain some semblance of knowledge about where he was. But this map practically answered every question he had perfectly; little bullet points made note of important recent events describing actions he had apparently made in the past few weeks. It was a real-life summary of everything, all he needed to know, it was perfect.

“You made this?” Karl gawked at the masterpiece in front of him. Sapnap rubbed the back of his neck, “well I had a little help but yeah! It’s uh, nice to know what’s going on. You- I, I can be pretty forgetful you know?” and Karl couldn’t help but agree. Just ask he began to take another look at the map Sapnap cleared his throat, “would you wanna go check out Party Island? I know you’ll love to see what the llamas are doing today!” and Karl couldn’t deny he wanted to spend time with this kind stranger. 

Quickly they had raced through the SMP to Party Island, Sapnap had led Karl through all the best parts of the world. They stole potatoes from a child named Purpled, sang songs with a strange naked man, and harassed various British children all before ending on the roller coaster in Party Island. Karl had gone from chasing after Sapnap to roaming the world hand in hand in just a measure of hours. As they rounded the day out Sapnap pulled Karl’s attention from the setting sun to his chocolate brown eyes. 

Sapnap looked golden in the warm hues of the setting sun, flames danced in his eyes, and a light reddish color burned on his cheeks. Just staring at the man in front of him Karl felt his own breath hitch. Sapnap glanced down nervously, “I really enjoyed hanging out with ya today Karl, and I was wondering if you’d wanna, maybe, hangout again sometime? And! Also I got this from Puffy!” not leaving Karl a moment to speak he pushed a slightly crunched purple allium flower into Karl’s hands. 

Karl felt warmth budding on his cheeks as he stifled a glowing smile at the beautiful flower, it was his favorite kind too. “Of course I wanna hangout more! We literally had the best time ever, you know all the best places and my favorite things it’s like you’ve known me forever Sap!” Karl grinned up at Sapnap who let out a strangled, but excited giggle. Karl shook his head with a grin and pulled Sapnap in for a hug. “Karl n Sapnap forever!” Karl shrieked into Sapnap’s shoulder, trying to contain his ecstatic energy as Sapnap swayed him back and forth in the hug.

“Forever.” Sapnap agreed. 

~

“Hello?”

“Anyone there?” Karl called out as he pushed open the door to a strange and dusty library. A handsome stranger gave him a dashing grin as he stood up, pulling together the papers he was writing in. 

“Hey! Welcome to the library!” the man stuck out a hand which Karl took with a warm smile. “Have I seen you before? This is crazy but I swear you were like totally in a dream I just had!” Karl looked up at the stranger with a smile, but the man calmly shook his head, “I get that sometimes, but I don’t think so! Name’s Sapnap.” Karl promptly introduced himself as well.

"Say, do you know where I am? My head's kinda fuzzy." Karl gave the kind stranger a sheepish grin, but Sapnap seemed to grasp his question. "Follow me!" Karl was jolted forwards as Sapnap grabbed his hand, pulling him into an adjacent room with a whole wall covered in maps.

With his bearings set he agreed to help Sapnap look for a new trident in the ocean near a place called "Snowchester" it was the least he could do after Sapnap had been so kind to him, it's not every day a man with little to no memories appears in your library!

They spent the day splashing in the waves and resting on the shore. Karl was swept off his feet- twice by the waves and ultimately by Sapnap himself. The taller warrior captured Karl's heart with every blinding grin, flip of his ocean-damp hair, and kind but undeniably flirtatious words.

Come nightfall the two retreated off the coast to what Karl assumed was Snowchester. Spending the night sitting atop a spruce wood roof staring at the stars, Karl found himself more mesmerized by the shining warmth of Sapnap's eyes than any star in the sky.

Sapnap broke the silence, tilting his head to the left to meet Karl's eyes with his, "so, pretty good day huh?" Karl nodded, swallowing butterflies. "We should do this again!" Karl nodded in agreement again, mustering some confidence of his own, "we make a pretty good team huh? I could get used to you by my side." Sapnap just grinned in agreement, scooting closer to Karl, his arm slipping under Karl's head, letting him just rest in Sap's embrace.

Karl smiled at the moon, "this is definitely something I wanna get used to."

~

Waking up alone always broke Sapnap's heart. Usually there was some poor excuse or sign that Karl was whirled away from him. With a heavy heart he got used to packing up a days worth of necessities for two and heading to the library Karl had built all those months ago.

Except this time when he entered the library, he realized he wasn't alone.

"Quackity? Do you need something?" Sapnap was shocked to see a familiar face at such a secret location.

"You can't keep doing this Sapnap, it's- I don't even know- it's wrong." Quackity gestured to the library as if Sapnap didn't already know.

"I have to Q, what else would I do? Let him try to make it home to a place he's completely forgotten all alone?" Sapnap paused, taking in a shaky breath, "I'm not gonna let him forget our life together Quackity, I can't"

Quackity raised his voice, "like he doesn't forget every damn time? You're sitting here playing make believe with your fiancé! Don't you get tired? Isn't it fucking tiring having him fall in love with you over, and over again? How are you okay with this!"

Sapnap stalked towards his usual desk, collecting all the papers. "I love him Quackity, I'd do anything for him, and I trust that eventually he'll figure this time travel adventure shit out, I'm not gonna give up on our life together! How can you not see that?"

Quackity just rolled his eyes. "Bullshit. This is wrong, you're interfering with Karl's - I don't know - destiny, future, powers, whatever the hell you're calling it now. Sapnap he's gone. Don't you see every Karl you get is different? That's not your Karl anymore."

Sapnap was seeing red. "Get out. If I fucking wanted you here I'd find you. Don't you have banking business to attend to? Can't you let me have the one good thing in my life? He's Karl, he's my Karl. And that's all I need." Sapnap pointed at the door, his hand clenched around the hilt of his sword.

Quackity shook his head but headed towards the door. "You can't do this forever. Don't you think there'll be a trip where he doesn't come back? Or worse, he comes back unable to love you? Arent you just delaying the inevitable?" Sapnap sprung up from his chair, sword drawn, but Quackity quickly slipped through the doorway. "I'm leaving, I'm leaving. Plus, you don't want to miss those precious first words right? I saw your entires Sap, what's today's plan? Tame cats if I remember right?"

"Fuck you." Sapnap slammed the door, trying to collect himself. Some disgusting voice in the back of his head was reiterating Quackity's words, telling him all was lost and that he was only setting himself up for false hope. But, it only took a glance at the array of pictures scattered between entires in his own diary to see the reason he fought through every first date.

"Hello! Um, do you know where I am?"

Sapnap looked up from a messy stack of first date ideas and dream SMP memory reminders to see the beautiful man before him.

The moment they locked eyes was the moment that nagging voice in Sapnap's head subsided. Every time they locked eyes for the "first time" Sapnap remembered why he'd fight for Karl every day if he needed to. But, there wasn't time for fawning over the brunette an awkward amount.

"Yup! You're in the library! C'mon, there's a map you'll wanna see- I'm Sapnap by the way! And you are?"

"Karl Jacobs! Nice to meet you Sap! Gimme the tour you clearly know what's up! What do I need to know?"

Sapnap gave his unknowing lover a calm smile, "I gotcha! There's not much you need but here's a good map of the lands!" Sapnap took a moment of serenity to appriciate the gorgeous man in front of him before Karl spoke again.

"I actually think I got it! Anything else in this musty old place I should know?"

I wish you knew how much I miss you.

~ Fin ~

A/N: Poor Sapnap. This gives me 50 first dates vibes. Also I wanted to paint Quackity as a voice of reason/doubt because I think his canonical character is that level of serious and caring for both Karl and Sapnap and I imagine their trio may have split over Sapnap’s decision to continually woo memory-loss Karl, or they could’ve never even been a 3 way thing, it’s up to interpretation. Also, I wanted to know your thoughts! Is Sap doing the right thing? Is he really just putting himself up for more hurt later? I dunno. Hope you enjoyed! Comments n stuff in reblog tags make my day :)))

[katelyn--renee]

Jealous Heart

Title: Jealous Heart

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy

Characters: Alex Karev, Reader, Meredith Grey, Christina Yang, Izzy Stevens, George O’Malley, Malcolm Ramsay (OC)

Pairing: Alex x Reader

Words:  ± 1600

Description: Alex’s jealousy leads to something interesting.

Created for @anyfandomgoesbingo​ Square Filled: Jealousy

Rating: Rated M for Mature.

Warnings: Nothing really; maybe a bit of fluff. A bit of bullying/teasing.  Author’s Note: There is no beta and this is my first Grey’s Anatomy fic. I hope you enjoy! Please comment your thoughts and share the love! Your feedback gives me life! :)

A shout out to @writeyourmindaway​ for the amazing dividers! Thank you!

Interested in more of my work, check out the link below.

Masterlist

“Careful, Evil Spawn, your jealousy is showing. People might actually think you’re human.” Christina Yang taunted, teasing her colleague and tossing a piece of popcorn toward him. It hit Alex in the arm and dropped to the floor beside the wheelchair he occupied. He glared at the assaulting food as the other interns snickered and smirked, their laughter filling the empty hallway. 

Karev scoffed and rolled his eyes at them, sneering at Yang. “Yeah. Whatever.” He grumbled, gripping the handles of the wheel chair a little tighter, and swiftly turning away from the other interns. He heard them muttering and giggling behind his back, and so he turned back, face red with annoyance. “I just - I don’t get it, what does that guy have, that I don’t?” He argued, gesturing wildly behind him toward the entrance of their hideaway. “The dude is a tool!” 

The four other interns exchanged thoughtful looks, very much enjoying their antics. “Good hair,” Izzy chimed in first with a shrug, stating the fact as if it should have been obvious. She smacked George in the arm, who nodded in agreement, “Great hair, actually. Like, it’s always just so perfectly, well-groomed…” Izzy made a few hand motions for added effect, touching her own head of blonde hair. She made a few more side comments about his rugged good looks and broad shoulders.

“Talented hands.” Meredith added to the list, but then quickly corrected herself before anyone got the wrong idea. “He’s a world-class surgeon.” She shrugged, glancing at Alex who shook his head, feeling betrayed. He scoffed again.

“A heart.” Christina stated bluntly, stealing a laugh from Meredith who shook her head and instantly tried to hide her smile for Alex’s sake. “A soul. Decent human emotions.” She continued, the laughter bubbling up again around them.

Alex had heard enough and he stood up, “Screw you guys.” He grumbled, storming off in the opposite direction. This only made Christina laugh even more, mocking him with a pouty lip and fake teary eyes.

“I’m sure he doesn’t give people syphilis either!” George called out after Alex, who replied with a few choice words of his own, flashing him the finger over his shoulder.

He couldn’t believe them. They were supposed to be his friends! They were supposed to be on his side and agree with him, not make him feel worse about the whole situation. But maybe they were right? What chance did a guy like him have against a guy like that? 

As if the universe were mocking him, a portrait of Dr. Perfect stared down at him at the end of the hall. He sneered at it before turning down the next hall, heading for the lobby at the front of the hospital.

He paused at the main nurses station, collecting a patient’s chart in an attempt to distract himself with work. He looked over the information and tried to make sense of the numbers in front of him. But, no matter how hard he tried to focus, it did little to ease his racing mind and jealous heart.

With a huff of annoyance, he closed the chart and put it back into the slot, clenching his jaw. He scrubbed a hand over his face, trying to force away his frustrations. He scratched at the stubble accompanying his jawline. What the hell was he doing? He shook his head, annoyed and angry with himself. 

A familiar, adorable giggle reached his ears and seized his heart; it was a sound he’d recognize anywhere. He followed the beautiful sound and glanced in the direction of the grand staircase, spotting (Y/N) standing near the bottom of the steps with none other than the tool himself, Dr. Malcolm Ramsay; Dr. Perfect. 

Alex watched their exchange from afar and his lip curled with anger as the jealousy bubbled up inside of his chest, making his blood boil. It coiled and twisted inside of his stomach, making him feel sick. She looked so excited and bubbly and happy and it pissed him off knowing that it wasn’t him who made her feel that way. How could he?

He watched with disdain as the man touched her arm, affectionately squeezing it. She giggled and scrunched her nose up, making it crinkle cutely. Alex clenched his hands into fists at his sides, his jaw set. He had to look away, his stomach - and heart - couldn’t bear to watch anymore. 

Leaving the nurses station, he rounded the next corner and paused, making a decision. He couldn’t wait any longer, he needed to know; for his own sanity, he needed to know why she felt the way that she did and why it had to be him.

He waited impatiently for her, pacing the small section of hallway and earning himself a few odd looks from nurses and passing doctors. He would turn expectantly at every passing set of footsteps, only being met with disappointment. One particular set of footsteps caught his ear and when he turned to confront them, he was met with the (Y/E/C) that he adored so much.

Grabbing her by the arm gently, yet firmly, he tugged her into a nearby supply closet and shut the door with a loud bang. “Alex, what the hell?” (Y/N) gasped with a confused expression on her face. She rose a curious brow at the other intern, his back still to her. “Alex, what’s going on?” She asked again, hesitant to know the answer. Something was wrong.

“(Y/N) we need to talk.” Alex finally spoke, his voice agitated and a bit shaky. He turned to face her then, his expression hard and serious. He had his hands on his hips and his breathing was erratic, his chest rising and falling quickly, but he said nothing else.

(Y/N) made an impatient face as the silence built between them and she folded her arms under her breasts, sighing “Okay?” She questioned, dragging out the word with annoyance, “Alex, you’re being weird. What the hell is going on?” She asked with a huff, her lips pressed into a solid line. “Look, Alex, I’ve got work to do. Bailey is going to kill me if I don’t get these charts finished. Spit it out.” 

His stomach was in knots, doing cartwheels in his abdomen. His tongue felt like concrete in his mouth, too heavy to move. Fuck. Man up! Talk to her! “Why do you like him?” Alex blurted out suddenly, his brow pinched together and his eyes stern.

(Y/N) frowned heavily at him, “Excuse me?” She asked, confused and slightly offended by his assumption. “Like who, Alex? You’re not making any sense.” She rolled her eyes at the man.

“Don’t act like you don’t know. I saw how cozy you just were with him, giggling and doing that nose scrunch thing you do.” He stated, gesturing to her nose and face, clearly upset. 

“What?” (Y/N) scoffed at him and shook her head, her (Y/H/C) swaying with the motion. “You’re being ridiculous.” She muttered and moved to step past him, but he stepped in her path. “Alex.” She huffed, annoyed by his antics. 

“Answer the question; why do you like that tool? I need to know.” Alex insisted, his eyes searching hers for an answer. 

“Alex, move.” (Y/N) tried again, but Alex kept his stance firm and planted his feet. It became very apparent to her Alex wasn’t about to let this go any time soon. She looked away from him, her tongue making an annoyed clicking sound in her mouth before she huffed, giving in. “He’s not the one I like, Alex.” She admitted, forcing herself to look into his eyes.

Alex frowned at that, his confusion only growing stronger. “W-what, who then?” He asked, his tone not as harsh as before. He crossed his arms, trying to rack his brain and figure out who this mystery guy is. His face was scrunched and pinched between his brows, straining.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, her expression softening a fraction. She studied his face, her eyes wandering over his handsome features and eyes full of so much emotion. “Do you really not know, dummy?” She stated, the softness of her voice catching his attention. There was another drawn out pause. “Do I have to spell it out for you?” She smiled a little at him, raising her brows in an attempt to silently fill in the blanks for him.

Everything began to click into place and his face began to relax at the realization. Alex swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat with her confession, his eyes falling to her lips briefly before meeting her eyes. A hint of a smile hitched up the corner of his mouth before he closed the distance between them, his hands cupping her face. Their lips met, hard and desperate to taste each other. They’d been dreaming of this day, the pair of them dancing around their feelings for months and now… now it was actually happening.

Alex’s heart was racing inside of his chest, pounding so hard he thought it would burst from his chest and flop onto the floor. He had to break away, but didn’t go far, their foreheads still pressed together. He smiled and laughed softly, sounding a bit breathless. Her hands were on his chest and he wondered if she could feel his heart pounding there. He rubbed her cheeks with his thumbs, his fingers cradling the back of his neck. 

“Does that answer your question, dummy?” She muttered and laughed softly, her lips connecting with his again in an affectionate peck. After a moment, she laughed again, “Wait, were you really jealous of Dr. Ramsey?” She questioned, teasing him with a raised brow. 

Alex rolled his eyes playfully, “Shut up.” He replied, silencing her giggles with another kiss.

Thanks for reading!! 

[perseusjackson-jasongrace]

Empires on the Horizon Epilogue

Jason is a CEO: Epilogue

When i started this fic (around 9 months ago-- holy hell we could have had a whole human in that time) i didn’t expect it to go in the directions it did or to produce the characters and story it did. While it’s not one of my more action-packed fics it is still very special to me because 1. it’s my first jason centered fic (of which we don’t have much of); 2. it’s my first really long multi-chap (the longest before this was 10 parts); 3. i got to explore so many of my crackships and dynamics of friendship i may not have been able to if we (for example) stuck to canon; 4. most importantly i love this fic because it started out (the very first chapter) as an original story that just was not going anywhere but when i decided to make it a fanfic, suddenly ideas were pouring from my fingers like wine from a split barrel. these characters feel as much mine as they are Rick’s (which is a dangerous path to go down and i’m not actually claiming they’re mine-- gods please don’t sue me). in short i love this fic dearly, i’m so proud of how far all these little babies have come (especially jason) and i hope you feel even a smidge the joy i feel over this, as you go on to read the very soft conclusion to Jason Grace as CEO.

masterlist; my links

[image has alt text]

There was something almost magical in the gleaming silhouette of the Manhattan skyline. There was something hopeful about it too. 

Jason Grace stepped out of his car, relishing in the sound of the gravel crunching under his feet and the babble of people all around him. His suit—  a deep blue, dark enough to look black, and glittering with tiny silver diamantes that looked like stars— clung to his shoulders and hugged his legs. The theme of the evening was “Starry Night”. He figured coming as the actual night was accurate enough. Drew and Silena had done a beautiful job on his outfit, to no-one’s surprise. He would see them here tonight, along with their husband, and the rest of his friends. And tomorrow, oh tomorrow, he would be off to Rome, with the man that filled his life with overwhelming light.

“Jase,”  Someone called out from the darkness, “Are you hiding from us because you put two different shoes on again and are too embarrassed to say?”

“Shut up Annabeth,” He laughed, “I’m coming.”

He walked towards the group of silhouettes, making out Leo and Annabeth, and Nico and Will, and coming from behind them were the dressmakers and their Charles. Hazel and Frank would be making an appearance later in the night.

“You all look beautiful.” He smiled, hugging them, kissing cheeks and foreheads, relishing in their closeness and their comfort, as he has always done. And they did in fact look beautiful. Annabeth in a dress of blue swirling around her and pooling at her feet— the colours matched the sapphire on her ring finger; Leo in a matching floor-length skirt and a sheer polo-neck that showed off every clean brown line of his skin; Nico and Will, in contrast, were complete opposites, the former in a black suit with silver jewellery, and the latter in an off white with gold accents; Silena, Drew and Charlie all had on suits with various parts of the galaxy embroidered in gold, threading a spectacular tapestry through the emerald green. All in all, his friends were really hot.

“Y’all ready?” Will drawled, tilting his head to the entrance of the hotel a little way away.

“Let’s go celebrate!” He winked in response.

And then they’re walking towards the bright lights, launching into conversations and updates and work and jokes. It was familiar in the way driving home after a long time away was, or catching a waft of the specific smell of your elementary school art room, or seeing someone from your childhood and slipping into a comfortable back-and-forth.

“Jase,” Charlie scooted next to him, breaking away from his conversation with Nico, “How’s the construction for the new section of the outdoor center going? I heard you hit a snag last week with the design?”

“Yea there was a few centimeters off with one of the structures and it caused the whole area to be off balance,” He scrunched his nose, remembering the horror from last week. “I’m just grateful we caught it in time.”

“I can’t believe it’s been a year since that center went up,” His friend marvelled, eyes wide with the disbelief of time. He knew the feeling well.

“It’s crazy. I came back from my holiday and then everything was just on fast forward.” He shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips. “I’m happy though, with the progress and how far we’ve come.”

“You’ve just burst and grown and brightened,” There’s that soft smile, the one that made all of Jason’s insides turn to mush. The one that told him he was loved in every capacity.

“I know.” He felt the blush creeping up his skin, pale after the long winter months. “I don’t owe it to myself though. All of you guys have—” 

“No way mister,” Annabeth chimed in, “You absolutely owe it to yourself. You got yourself there, we just cheered you on.”

“Yea,” Leo nudged his arm, a gentleness shimmering in his brown eyes. “You were the hero of your own story.”

He muttered thank you’s and tried to embrace the blush but their love and joy and pride still drowned him. Before anyone else could pile on the sincerity they were walking into the lobby and being ushered to the large, elegant ballroom three doors down.

There was a collective gasp from their group, audible even above the low hum of chatter, and the soft jazz drifting through the speakers. The entire room had been made to look like they were standing inside the middle of “Starry Night”. Like they were the townsfolk parked outside their houses witnessing the strange and magical sky above them. Swirls of blue in the draping curtains and circles of yellow in the chandeliers and wisps of the cypress trees growing from the walls as if the very room had been built around a tree.

“This is—” He didn’t even have the words to fully express his awe. If he were an art major he would have died from the beauty of it all. As it stood he could barely keep himself up.

“I know,” A voice said quietly from behind him. “It’s almost divine.”

He didn’t say anything, didn’t even turn around to see who it was. He simply stepped back and let arms envelope him. He didn’t need to check, because he knew, he would always know. In the heat of their skin, and the hum of their voice, and the love that radiated between them like scorching summer sun.

“Moró mou,” He sighed, tipping his head back to rest against a shoulder. From this angle he could see blazing green eyes and jet-black curls, and impossibly high cheekbones, and a jaw sculpted by Michaelangelo.

“Hello my love,” Percy Jackson smiled. “How are you?”

“Happy.” He muttered, lips brushing against his boyfriend’s cheek.

“Good,” The man nodded, squeezing his waist where his arms still wrapped around. “Are you going to be okay tonight?”

“I will not just survive through it,” His eyes crinkled at the corner as pure joy washed through him, “I will live through it, and I will enjoy every minute of it.” He knew the reason for the question, for the concern. But tonight it was not needed. He was nothing but excited and elated for the hours, and then days, weeks, years to come.

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

A glass tinkled somewhere to their right, grabbing their attention. And then Zoe and Reyna were stepping together and drawing people towards them as if they were gravity, magnets, the center. They looked it certainly: Zoe in a stark white dress, hugging her figure, shimmering like stardust every time she moved; and Reyna in a watery blue, gauzy and flowing in time with her body, where she goes it will ripple behind her.

“Thank you,” His lawyer started, giving them a dazzling smile. “For being here. All of you.” She looked them each in the eye, her own filled with love and… were those tears? From his no nonsense, boss lady lawyer? Oh he was so going to give her a hug and then tease her endlessly about it. 

“We have a thousand people to thank for all of this,” She gestured to the room, “And a thousand more to thank just for being here, but that will come in the form of surprise take-me-homes at the end of the night.”

“However,” Zoe’s voice, still as strong and quiet as ever, rang out across the room. “There are two people we would like to thank right here, right now.” Her smile lit up the world as her eyes landed on them. “In typical us fashion, it’s a little out of the ordinary but please can both our ex-boyfriend’s come up here.” 

The crowd burst into laughter, him and Percy with them, as they detangled themselves from each other and walked hand in hand to the front of the room.

“As you can see,” Reyna grinned. Jason held in the groan he knew would accompany her next words. “We did a Partner Swap.”

The laughter only loudened, people whistling, and clapping in time with their amusement.

“I will spare you the sordid details,” Zoe’s own giggling softened to a smile, “But two years ago, after Jason and I had broken up, I called him in a panic asking for help. And despite being on a much needed holiday where he happened to meet a certain someone,” She winked at them, eyebrows waggling comically, “He listened to me, then made use of his contacts and connected me with Reyna.”

“And after I charmed the suit off of her, and won her lawsuit,” Reyna stepped in, grinning wildly, “She agreed to pop open a bottle of champagne and celebrate our win.”

“I’m not quite sure about the charming part, angel.” Zoe quirked an eyebrow, “But yes one champagne bottle and the rest was history.”

“In conclusion to this whole ordeal,” His lawyer turned to them, “Jase, Percy, we have a present for you, to thank you for loving us, and for loving us enough to let us go, and furthermore for bringing us together.”

Zoe handed them an envelope but before they bothered to open it they pulled the women in for a hug, thanking and congratulating them. He would not change what they had for the world. He will be grateful forever. He will love them even longer.

Percy ripped open the envelope and pulled out a single sheet of paper. He leaned over his boyfriend’s shoulder and read with him.

The universe has a funny way of pulling stars together but we know with certainty that the four of us are born from the same constellation. Thank you for everything. We know we can never really repay you but please accept this as a start. 

Tucked into the last fold of the paper were two plane tickets to Japan. The holiday they had discussed once, a Saturday game night that ended with the four of them huddled around the fire in Zoe’s apartment, chattering softly about this and that. Printed in small font at the bottom of the page was a cherry blossom branch and more text that read,

Get married losers, we want joint holidays so we can get the couples packages.

He bubbled with laughter at that, and looked up at his friends, tears pooling in his own eyes.

“Alright everyone!” Reyna clapped her hands, gathering the attention of the humming crowd. “Let’s get this engagement party started.”

And then music filled the room and people dragged each other to the middle of the space and there were cheers as the song came into focus and truly Jason understood the meaning of life that night.

After they had thanked Reyna and Zoe again, and chatted with their other friends Percy pulled him to the dance floor.

“Jase,” His boyfriend cupped the back of his neck, arranging their bodies into a work of art. “We have wonderful friends.”

“The very best,” He agreed, swaying their hips in time with the beat. “We have built an empire with them by our side.”

“Will you be the emperor then?”

“There is no monarchy in this kingdom,” He smiled, blue eyes glittering and bright. “It is just us, and our love, and everything beautiful the world has ever had to offer.” He saw oceans reflecting back at him, wonder soaking in his words, happiness pressing against his lips.

His boyfriend pressed their foreheads together, bodies still moving to music far away. “And if we look further?” Percy breathed, “Past the empire, to the horizon beyond?”

“It is all home,” Jason Grace smiled. “We are home, my love.”

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

Okay there are so many people to thank and you best believe i’m going to thank them all because this fic would literally not exist without them.

@nishlicious-01​​ my favourite person, my biggest supporter and the only person who gets to shout at me when im writing fanfic at 1am because i’m not sleeping but also because ‘why am i not reading it ciara????’

@queen-of-demons-and-hell​​ for every comment, every like, every complaint you took when the writing demon was on strike. you have my heart. id be lost and a little lonely without you.

@leyontheway​​ your comments on this fic were golden and i often came back to them just for that extra burst of motivation and serotonin. i found a friend in you and now i can’t imagine my life without you.

@msdrpreist​​ Sky, mi cielo, you are one in a billion and i cannot believe i found you (and you me) across all this space and time. thank you for your unwavering support and your wonderful thoughts.

@larrikin-is-a-himbo​​ when we started this fic i believe you were @/queenbrunnhilde (or something to that effect) but although your username has changed your loveliness and endless support hasn’t. Thank you for sticking along for the ride

@spoopylucy​​​ Lucy... what do i even say to the person who singlehandedly changed my day, week, mood every time i saw a reblog from them? your tags were the start and the end. they made every upload an exciting task. and i knew no matter what happened in the fic or how long it took as soon as i got a notif from you i couldn’t be anything but happy. thank you my Luce, you’re an angel!

@not-hiesenberg​ for being my ‘ciara what the fuck even does this say? do you know how to spell?’ checker when i was too tired (more like too lazy) to do it myself.

@lesbian-peanuts​​ thank you for the love! you were one of the first people interested in this little universe and i can never thank you enough for that​

@legendary-cupcake​​ your spam when reading this was such a happy moment in my life and im ecstatic that you stayed for the ride! thank you​

to all the people on my tag list, who have liked this fic, and especially those who have commented: i see you, i love you, and i thank you with a heart full of happiness. you changed my world.

[machi-kun]

For the writing prompts, 48 ‘meeting again at the high school reunion’ :D

👀👀👀👀👀

****

“That’s Steve Rogers.” Tony gasps. “It can’t be. It - That’s Steve Rogers. Oh, my God!”

“Oh, my God.” Pepper says, long-suffering.

“Did you know about this?!”

“Yes, Tony, I keep tabs on every single one of our former classmates - of course not, why would I know this?”

“He’s tall!” Tony exclaims, maybe a little too hysterically, because a few heads turn in his direction, shooting him confused and worried looks. “He used to be shorter than me! And he was skinny, he had asthma, he - what happened to him?!”

Because something must have happened! Something, because people don’t just grow like that out of nowhere! Not that it hasn’t been years, because it has, but Tony thinks has the right to be shocked; He is not one for wet sciences and genetics, but he can’t imagine how much can he assign Steve Roger’s utter and complete transformation to “grow spurt” and not straight up “scientific experiment gone incredibly out of hand”, because that shouldn’t be possible. 

Steve used to go up to Tony’s shoulder - look at him now! What the hell.

“Can you calm down for a second, it’s not a big deal.” Rhodey says unimpressed.

“How can it be not a big deal-”

“It really isn’t.” Rhodey insists, sounding maddeningly bored. “People get grow spurts all the time, just because you didn’t doesn’t mean other people can’t either.”

Tony sputters, wildly offended. 

“And it’s not like he’s all that different. You can still definitely tell it’s him.” Rhodey muses, taking one long, considering glance at tall, built like a goddamned tank Steve Rogers, and he dares to snort a laugh at the sight of Tony’s utter bafflement. “And don’t act like you didn’t have the most ridiculous crush on him when he was small, because you did, and everyone knew. This is nothing new for you.”

“Not everyone.” Tony rebuffs, which is stupid, because what he meant to say is that he didn’t, he didn’t have a crush on tiny Steve Rogers, except maybe he kinda did, okay, and who is Rhodey to make fun of him for it, when he had a crush on Wilson for an entire year?

“Wow.” Pepper says, blinking slowly, halfway through a laugh. “That was very convincing, I am very impressed.”

“Actually - you know what, I will not stand here and have all these lies about me - I am leaving you both here.”

“Go talk to Steve, then.” Rhodey dares.

“Fine!” Tony says, huffing. “I will!”

He takes two steps forward - and stops.

“I-”

“Tony.” Pepper threatens before he can even turn. “Go.”

Alright. He can do this.

It’s just Steve Rogers. No big deal.

Christ, it’s Steve Rogers.

It should not be a big deal, but it kind of is. It is for Tony, at least. Okay, maybe Rhodey is right and Tony did have a bit of a crush on Steve back then, but - how could he not? Okay? Tony’s pretty sure half the class had been kinda in love with the guy, even if Steve used to be, and Tony’s quoting here, “like that” and “no one wanted to go out with him”. Which was, for starters, not true, because Tony would have definitely gone out with Steve if Steve had asked, and two - Tony knows for a fact that Steve and Sharon dated for a couple of months just after their graduation and Steve had definitely still been tiny when that happened, because they still talked back then.

Tony missed him, when he moved to the West Coast. He didn’t want to stop talking to Steve, it just happened. Steve had always been amazing. And gorgeous. And Tony liked him, a lot. Of course he missed him.

Tony just... He never told him that, because how could he? How could he tell Steve that and not completely give himself away, with that ridiculous crush of his? 

But he’s an adult now. He can handle Steve Rogers, as pretty and incredible and freakishly built he might be. He’s fine. He’s got this.

“Steve Rogers!” Tony bellows, with practiced ease and smugness, gesturing to Steve with unabashed appreciation. “Look at our leader, ladies and gentlemen!”

Steve turns to face Tony and - oh. 

Oh, Tony doesn’t have this. At all. Nope. 

“Tony.” Steve says, and his voice is deeper now, Tony feels like he’s going to combust. “God, it’s so good to see you!”

Tony has to look up to face him now - his absurdly blue eyes, his cheekbones, his lips - oh, Christ, Tony might still be a little bit in love with Steve Rogers.

“Great to see you too.” Tony pats him on the shoulder - all muscle, just like the rest of him now - and pretends he’s not shaking. “How long has it been?”

“Too long.” Steve smiles, and steps back so he can make room for Tony to step forward, and only then Tony realizes that the other people present, meaning the people he just rudely and loudly interrupted in favor of his flawless act of totally not being affected by the sight of Steve, are Wilson and Sharon. 

“Tony, hey.” Sharon greets him kindly, and Wilson surprisingly also cracks a smile and raises his drink in a welcoming gesture.

“The whole class rep team together!” Tony exclaims, a little delighted, a little fucking terrified. “Where is our resident troublemaker, then?”

“Standing right next to you?” Sharon laughs, and pays Steve no mind when he shoots her a very unimpressed glare. “C’mon, Steve, we all know between you and Barnes, you are definitely worse.”

“Yeah. And hey, you know just because we ain’t kids anymore doesn’t mean Barnes can’t kick your ass, right, Stark? In fact, he might kick your ass harder, so you watch out for that.” Wilson jokes, his expression full of amusement.

“Barnes loves me too much.” Tony says, and Wilson full-on snorts, the sound echoing in his cup as he takes a sip. “What? He does. We all know that his problem with me was because he secretly loved me and totally not because I broke his arm on PE once.”

“Was it now?” Steve teases, and Tony has to lock all his muscles like they’re made of stone to prevent himself from shivering. 

“Sure it was. You should know, Rogers.”

“Yeah.” Wilson laughs, half-hiding his shit-eating grin on his cup. “You should know.”

“You shut up.” Steve says, and when Wilson and Sharon laugh, his ears go adorably pink. “Why don’t you go talk to Rhodes?”

“Oh, yes, please do.” Tony exclaims, jittery with joy at the idea of making Rhodey’s life just a little bit harder. If he can poke fun at Tony, Tony is definitely allowed to poke back. “He’s gonna love seeing you, Wilson. Tell him I sent you.”

“Yeah, yeah, you just tryin’ to get Steve alone, you ain’t subtle.” Wilson jabs, but before Tony can even process the words fully, let alone react to them, Wilson claps a hand on his back and steps out, supposedly, to find Rhodey. “Good seeing you, man.”

And he just leaves. Worse, Sharon leaves too, with a nod and an all-too-knowing look in her eyes, and then, Tony is suddenly left alone with Steve goddamn Rogers, who Tony may or may not still have a ridiculous crush on!

“So.” Tony exhales, harshly. “No Barnes?”

Steve looks at him like he’s amused, smirking at a private joke. “Jerk’s late. I set him an alarm and everything, but you know how he is.”

“I do? I guess I have vague memories of our glorious highschool days but clearly, I missed something.” Tony jokes, trying to be suave, but Steve is smiling like the way he used to smile when Tony fumbled with his words, when Steve made him flustered; and it’s making him flustered all over again like Tony is still fifteen and very very charmed by the tiny class president. “Because I don’t remember you being...”

“This size?” Steve gestures to himself, and Tony is a weak man, because he can’t refuse the excuse to look.

“Guess you could say that.” Tony teases. “I didn’t know art school could do that to you. I would almost guess you joined the army.”

“You knew I went to art school?” Steve asks, delighted, and - shit. 

“You always talked about it, when we were younger. And I knew you could do it.” And because Tony’s mouth doesn’t know how to stay shut, he accidentally says, “And I’ve seen a show you did once. A gallery, I mean, an exhibition. The one in Boston?”

“The one for my family.” Steve clarifies, eyes going all gentle and fond. 

“Yeah, that one.” Tony clears his throat. “Sarah must have been really proud. How is she, by the way?”

“The same as always. Nothing can stop her from kicking my ass when I need it.” Steve admits, a little embarrassed, and Tony can’t help but give a hearty laugh because yeah, that’s the Sarah Rogers he remembers, and suddenly, he’s overcome with nostalgia for the afternoons he spent at the Rogers’ place, feeling far more comfortable than anywhere else in the world. 

“God, I miss Sarah.” Tony confesses.

Steve pauses, and he looks at Tony with such an intense gaze Tony can’t look away. “And she misses you. We still talk about you sometimes.”

Tony blinks. “You do?”

“Tony.” Steve tilts his head, playfully, like he can’t believe Tony’s surprise. “Ma practically adopted you the moment you stepped a foot inside her house. If I hadn’t stopped her, she would have trapped you there and never let you leave.”

“Well, for Sarah Rogers, I wouldn’t have minded that.” 

“Neither would I.” Steve says, to Tony’s complete shock, and his face blooms ina flush of heat, mortifyingly. “But I had enough problems on my plate without Jarvis breathing down my neck.”

“Jarvis loves you, he always did.” Tony complains, childishly, in reflex. “I was the one always getting a speech when it was you who was always getting into fights and getting us both bruised!”

“You didn’t have to fight with me.”

“I definitely did.”

“You should come over, sometime.” Steve offers, suddenly, talking fast, as if he’s trying to get the words out all at once. “See Ma again. She would love that.”

“I-” Tony chokes. “Are you sure?”

“Tony. I really missed you. We both did.” Steve gulps down hard, his jaw working almost hypnotically. “I’m sorry I couldn’t keep in touch.”

Tony shakes his head frantically. “That wasn’t your fault. If anything, it was mine. It just - a lot of things happened, and-”

“We both had a rough time.” Steve interrupts, gently, and Tony gives him a silent nod. “I know it. But I think we both could use a win now, couldn’t we?”

Tony pauses. “Is taking me home to meet your mom a win, Rogers?”, he says, feeling daring.

“Definitely.” Steve says, coy, and slowly, he looks Tony up and down, all of him, as if he’s drinking in the sight, and that look, in Steve’s blue, sharp eyes, make Tony tremble where he stands. “And this time, I might not let you leave either.”

What happened to Steve Rogers! Tony wants to scream, mind going a hundred miles an hour, hysterical. I don’t know how to handle this!

“We can do that.” he says instead, nonsensical, short on breath.

“Alright.” Steve says, satisfied. “Give me your number.”

“What?” 

“Your number.” He smiles. “I’m not giving you the chance to second guess this, Tony. I know you. I’m calling you, and we’ll go out sometime. Does that sound ok?”

“Sounds awesome.” Tony admits, just a little winded. “I’d love that.”

“Good.” Steve puffs his chest out, just a little, like he’s proud of himself, and when Tony finally gets out a business card from his wallet and awkwardly writes his personal number on the back, it takes all his strength not to react to the brush of Steve’s cold fingers against his when he grabs the paper.

Steve stares at the number like Tony has just given him the greatest of gifts. 

And when he looks up at Tony and the sentiment in his eyes does not fade, Tony can’t do anything but exhale slowly, deeply, a ridiculously infatuated sigh.

“It’s great seeing you, Steve.” He says.

“You too.” Steve echoes, just as fond. “Can I call you tonight?”

Fuck.

“Yes.”

“Then I will.” He smiles.

Crap.

Tony definitely still is a little bit in love with Steve Rogers.

[theimpossiblescheme]

“Where have you been?!”--for Goemon and whoever you want!

Goemon could already feel his heart sink a bit when a boy no older than seven answered the door, cracking it open just enough to turn on the porchlight above them.  “C-Can I help you, Mister—” he nervously eyed the sword at his side—“Mister Samurai?”

“Yes, can you tell me if… if the lady of the house is home?”  He wasn’t exactly sure what the proper form of address was.  Calling her by her first name seemed too familiar, but he couldn’t be sure if she’d changed her last name in the… fifteen years?  Since he’d last seen her.

(Had it really been fifteen years?  How had he let the time fly away from him like that?  What could he have possibly been too busy with to come back, even just to say hello?)

The boy nodded and hid a few more inches behind the door, turning his face away.  “Mom!” he called, and Goemon’s heart sunk a little bit deeper. “There’s somebody at the door! Says he wants to see you!”

“What is it, Kōhei?” A woman’s voice sounded down the inside hallway, followed by the whisper of socked feet.  Then another hand came to nudge open the door, and there was Murasaki.  Dressed in worn grass-stained blue jeans and a yellow cardigan, her long hair pinned up out of her face in a loose bun and showing a few strands of grey at her temples. Certainly thinner and more tired-looking than he remembered her, but her face lit up with a brilliant smile as she recognized him.

“Goemon!”  She sounded shocked, but delighted at the same time. “What are you doing here?”

Suddenly that sounded like a very good question.  But Goemon tried to maintain his composure.  “I… I hope I’m not intruding.  I thought I might stop by and—and see how you were doing.”

“Okay.”  She nodded slightly, as if still registering his presence, before seeming to relax a bit and opening the front door wider.  “Yeah, come on in!  Kōhei—” she ran a gentle hand through the boy’s hair—“this is Mom’s old friend, Goemon.  He’s the one who saved our whole family from the Fuma clan, remember?”

Kōhei ducked behind Murasaki’s pantleg and muttered a quick “hi” before dashing off down the hall.  Goemon couldn’t help but give a tiny smile as he slipped off his shoes, discarded his sword, and stepped inside.

“Don’t worry about him, he’s just shy,” Murasaki said as she watched him run off, tucking a few loose strands of hair back into her bun before turning back to Goemon.  “So what brings you all the way out here?”  The where on earth have you been?! was implied, even if it was a gentle urging rather than a demand, and for a moment Goemon had no idea what excuse he could possibly give.  What did one even say after fifteen years?

“I—Lupin and Jigen and I had been travelling for a while, and I had… I had started to miss home. And I figured along the way I would come and visit you… since it’s been so long.”  We’ve done so much together, Murasaki, you wouldn’t believe, his thoughts raced wildly.  We stole from palaces, we robbed the biggest casino in the world, we saved a princess and uncovered a worldwide conspiracy… and I never even thought to write to you.  And it’s been too long for any apology to be good enough.  I wish you could have seen it, I know Lupin wanted to invite you along all those years ago, and I know you wanted to see the world.  I’m sorry I never took him up on it when I had the chance.  “I hope I didn’t come at a bad time,” was what he said instead.

“No, no, it’s okay!” she quickly reassured him.  “Actually, you came at a great time—I was just making us a late supper.  We’ve been so busy today the time kind of got away from us, but you’re welcome to join us!”

Goemon blinked.  Of all the responses she could have given, that was the most optimistic one, but he’d always suspected it was just wishful thinking.  Now that he was here… “I’d… I would like that.”  

Murasaki gave him another smile, an even brighter one this time, and gestured for him to follow her. He still remembered his way around the Suminawas’ old home surprisingly well, although the large TV in the living room and the power strips with multiple long extension cords running to and from the kitchen threw him for a moment, and he almost sat on someone’s stuffed dog next to the dining room table.  While Murasaki busied herself in the kitchen, he glanced around the place through the open dividing screens, taking it all in.  It was still the same house, the same woodwork, the same art on the walls and shelves, the same view of the garden outside… but it felt very different now.  More energetic in a way, more lived-in.

“That boy, Kōhei… is he yours?”  He had to be—she’d clearly named him after her grandfather, who must have passed away years ago.  Another pang wrung through Goemon at the thought.

“Mm-hm.”  Murasaki rearranged a few pots on the stovetop before getting a new one out for tea and filling it with water.  “Kaneto and I adopted him.  We’d always wanted kids, but neither of us wanted…”  She shrugged demonstratively.  “You know.”

Goemon nodded.  At least she’d found someone else who understood what she truly wanted in a marriage, even if it might seem like comparatively little.  “What does Kaneto do for a living?”

“We both teach!  At the high school the next town over—he teaches history, I teach biology.”  Setting out two teacups on the counter and leaving the water to boil, she turned back around to face her guest.  “And one the weekends he helps me with the garden.  That’s what we were doing all day until I sent him out to go run errands for me,” she added with a somewhat embarrassed wave down at her jeans.

Goemon only nodded again. He remembered her telling him, way back when they first met, that she wanted to earn her teaching degree someday, even if she had to put it on hold to care for her family.  Now she seemed truly happy with both, and he was happy for her truly—it would be selfish of him to even entertain the slightest bitter thought…

It wasn’t bitterness exactly.  More of a heaviness that sat at the bottom of his ribs and the pit of his stomach, even at seeing her current happiness.  A feeling he’d always tried so hard to transcend over the years, but it never quite worked.

A photograph hanging nearby caught his attention—a family portrait.  Murasaki stood beaming next to a man in a smart, slightly old-fashioned suit with dark brown hair.  They were about the same height, which made Goemon chuckle, but the Kaneto in the frame still managed to smile down at his wife like he couldn’t believe his good luck. Next to her stood a much more energetic Kōhei, grinning from ear to ear, and at Kaneto’s side stood a little girl, presumably their daughter, in bright yellow overalls and a fluffy white bow in her ponytail.  All four of them looked deliriously happy, and Goemon’s heart suddenly ached so much he could feel his shoulders sinking as the heaviness expanded.  He’d missed it.  He’d missed all of it.  She’d found love again, gotten married for real this time, taken in her own adorable children, built a new life for herself…

And he hadn’t even thought to write to her.  She’d never left his thoughts, never for a moment, but thoughts couldn’t be delivered to someone’s home, couldn’t be read as plainly as words on a page.  So much time he’d never get back, so many chances gone. He didn’t even feel bitter at the loss—he just felt sad, almost ashamed, that he’d never known, never got a chance to be there when it all happened.  It felt odd, almost too simple assigning such a basic word to such a strong emotion, but sometimes the simplest explanations were the best.

“It sounds like I’ve missed quite a lot.”

He hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but a frown line in Murasaki’s forehead deepened as she tended to the tea.  “Well… you were gone for a long time.”  Her voice was still gentle and nonjudgmental, but the additional weight of her words settled at the pit of his stomach and joined the sour, regretful churn there.

“I know.”  It was silly, really… Goemon wasn’t entirely sure what he’d expected.  Even years before the whole mess with the Fuma clan, they had both been practically children when they first met.  And while she’d been able to stay that way a little longer, joyous and bouncy and carefree even into her twenties, he had to grow up rather quickly.  Momochi’s treachery, Jinen’s murder, that terrible cult pursuing Fujiko… and all of this before he and Lupin found each other.  Since then he’d met three new friends, watched at least two old ones die, and forced himself to reconsider his place in the world. He could never be the same callow naïve youth he’d started as, and he could never be the same man who’d left that day, promising her he’d return once he’d completed his training… maybe he just didn’t like the reminder.

I’m not going to wait for you, Goemon!

It seemed nothing had. And it was selfish of him to expect otherwise.  He’d once though that no matter how much the world changed, he would stay the same… now he realized even that wasn’t true.  He was part of the same world as Murasaki, as Lupin and Jigen and Fujiko—time passed the same for all of them, no matter how they tried to fight it.

“I didn’t know it would be so long.”  It was no excuse, but more of a musing… no one ever did, did they?  And then the next thing they knew, fifteen years had gone by without so much as a by-your-leave.

And Murasaki, kind and forever buoyant soul that she was, still refused to judge him.  Or if she was, she never betrayed even a hint of it. “I get it.”  She poured the water and tea leaves back into the pot to let them steep a few minutes.  “Life goes on, you know?  It just… happens, no matter where we are.  That’s what Grandpa used to say.”  A silence ensued then, not quite entirely comfortable, but still companionable as Goemon pondered her words.  They were true enough—if someone had told that callow naïve youth that he’d spend years of training to be an assassin, that he’d throw in his lot (and fall in love) with a pack of thieves, that he’d turn down marriage into another proud and noble family… he definitely would have laughed.

What was the phrase? The best laid plans of mice and men… they all certainly seemed to go awry in his experience.

“But for what it’s worth,” Murasaki ventured, emerging from the kitchen with two fresh cups of tea and pressing one into his hand as she sat across from him, “I am glad you came to visit.”

“… I am, too.”  He was here now, at least.  And perhaps… for all the time he’d lost, there was still time to make it up.  He wasn’t planning on stopping anytime soon.  As strangely final was his last goodbye to Lupin and Jigen had felt, he loved them and Fujiko far too much to leave their sides entirely.  Besides, a samurai’s lot was to serve until death, or at least until he was no longer useful.  Retirement simply wasn’t in the cards for Goemon—he’d made peace with that long ago.  But strangely enough, the sentiment didn’t have the same… rigid structure it once had. It was less of a solemn vow, a mast he needed to lash himself to lest he be tempted by some other siren song, and more of a recognition of the way things were.  Of where his life had led him and would continue to lead.

It had led him and Murasaki in different directions.  With their own respective families, unorthodox as his own was (and he could just imagine the insufferably saccharine look on Lupin’s face if he’d heard Goemon refer to him as such).  And they were both happy.  Maybe years ago he might have resented that, but now… this also felt like the way things were meant to be.  Tea on the table, supper on the stove, sitting across from a loved one.  What more could he ask?

He did want to at least offer a little more, though—it only seemed fair.  “I will probably go back to my family’s old home for a little while, but… if you ever need somebody to help you with the children or in the garden, I’d be more than happy.”

“That sounds wonderful. Oh!”  She reached across the table to pat his hand excitedly, a quick succession of feather-light taps.  “And you have to meet Mayumi—she would adore you.”

Goemon smiled again, and some of the weight in his chest began to lessen.  “I look forward to it.”

[bubblesuga]

Leave Me Lonely

A/N: I’m mad so here’s some angst that turned into smut :)

Prompt: The reader broke up with Yoongi six months ago. Just as she feels like she’s able to move on, he pops up on her doorstep with watery eyes and whiskey laced breath.

Warnings: alcohol, angsty yoongi, cussing, crying, squirting, unprotected sex (don’t do this), mentions of Plan B, oral (F receiving), riding, yoongi and the reader are a mess and don’t know what to do 

Yoongi didn’t know what he was doing here, or how he ended up here. He just knew that he drank a little too much, and his feet carried him from the bar to here. 

Your apartment. 

He could navigate his way here with his eyes closed, which he practically did because he had no idea how he got here. The alcohol running through his veins was thanks in part to the lovely members in his band, insisting on celebrating their comeback with a lot of drinks and food. Unfortunately for him, that also meant that the alcohol was breaking down a barrier that he built up months ago when the two of you broke up. 

It burned. He already had frustrated tears in his eyes just staring up at your balcony, debating whether or not it was actually worth it to walk up the stairs and knock on your door. 

Sober Yoongi would stop him. Sober him would rationalize the break up, saying that there was no reason to bother you and that you more than likely had already moved on with your life especially with how quickly you managed to cut him off. 

Drunk Yoongi is a different story though. Drunk Yoongi is mad that you left him so easily, seemingly unscathed by putting him through one of the worst things he had ever experienced. Drunk Yoongi is upset that you left when he needed you most, when you were the one thing holding him up from barreling into a whirlwind of depression and anxiety. Drunk Yoongi is sad, because sober him loves you still. 

Annoyed, Yoongi reaches up and wipes the tear that slipped from his eye. Namjoon was probably already looking for him, and he knew that he should get back before the cops were called, but with ever step backward he was taking two steps forward until he eventually found himself gripping the railing of the stairs. 

“Fuck.” He mutters to himself, taking one last glance downward before he began his ascent up the stairs. 

The third floor seemed to take way longer to get to than before. Maybe it was the way his feet collided with the edge of every step or his hand having to constantly catch himself from stumbling backward. Through the perseverance of his stubborn mind, he made his way up the stairs and with out thinking about it twice, he knocked on your door. 

Well, pounded. He pounded on your door. 

“(Y/N),” he whined, his voice husky, “please open up.” 

The pounding turned to gentle taps when he felt his eyes grow heavy, leaning his face against the door while his finger nails tapped against the door. 

Just as he was about to give up, to stumble his way back down the stairs and forget that this whole thing happened by morning, he felt the weight of the door shift and before he knew it, he was on the ground in the doorway of your apartment. 

“Yoongi?!” You yell, stepping backward when you heard the thud of his body hitting the ground. 

Yoongi groans loudly, picking himself up off the ground, “Your apartment is cold.” 

You roll your eyes, “What the fuck are you doing here?” 

Yoongi could already tell that this was a mistake. Okay, maybe he knew that it was a mistake before but his internalized fight with himself was much too loud for him for him to comprehend anything that was actually happening. 

“I-” he groans as he grabs his head, “I wanted to see you.” His eyes traveled up from the floor to your face. You still looked the same, but now you had lighter hair and it was longer than before. Your face was still the same though, the concerned curve of your brow still rested above your eyes whenever Yoongi did something stupid. God damn, though, you were still just as beautiful. 

“Why? Why on Earth would you think that coming here was okay, Yoongi?” 

Even your voice was the same. The way your lips pursed and the curve of your tongue while you scolded him was still the same. It hit him, the familiarity of you was the reason he was here. He spent so much of his 20s traveling the world that the concept of having a ‘home’ was indescribable. His home was you, because everywhere he went he had you to lean back on, the scent of your Strawberry conditioner in his nostrils and your laughter filling his ears. 

“Because I miss you.” Yoongi shrugged, plopping onto the couch. Your jaw dropped, throwing your hands up in the air as you kicked the door closed. It was close to midnight, you had work in the morning, and you had your ex-boyfriend sat on your couch with red-rimmed eyes. 

“We’re broken up.” You whisper, sitting opposite of him and allowing your face to fall into your hands. 

“Why?” He questions. 

“Why what?” 

“Why are we broken up?” Yoongi’s eyebrow raised in question, his hands clasped together in front of him. His mouth was dry while looking at you, the feeling of having you close yet again was somewhat overwhelming. 

“I told you,” you clench your jaw, “your life was too hectic for me. I couldn’t keep up, I just wanted a sense of normalcy.” 

“Normalcy?” Yoongi scoffs, his earlier anger returning, “You want fucking normal? You think I asked for all this shit to be thrown at me? That’s fucking laughable, that you think I wanted this.” 

“Yoongi, I-” 

“No, let me talk for once,” he stands, throwing his hands around wildly, “you walked out on me because you wanted to be normal? How fucking boring.” 

You swallowed, the sting of his words setting in while you stared at the floor.

“What happened to the woman I fell in love with when we were 20 years old? Where did she go? She was willing to go on every adventure with me, she was there for me when I spent hours upon hours recording and re-recording songs that I wrote, about her might I add, and came home exhausted. She was the one who helped me navigate fame!” Yoongi was yelling now. Although it had been six months without you, his anger was just as futile. He hadn’t allowed himself to feel anything in so long. 

“And what about me?” You spoke quietly, your eyes not leaving the floor. 

“What do you mean, what about you?” Yoongi’s fists clenched and the stench of whiskey was far stronger than you realized before. 

“Well, you sat there saying all the things I did for you. How I was your rock, and I helped you with everything. What about me, Yoongi? You were so caught up in your own feelings that you never stopped to think about how it was affecting me. To be entirely honest,” your nails dug into the palms of your hands while you were trying to prevent yourself from getting in his face, “it was exhausting to try and help you through it while never having any help myself. A relationship is a two way street, and you seem to forget that part.” 

Yoongi was quiet again, sitting back down slowly on the couch while an emotion you couldn’t read was on his face. Immediately, he brought his nails up to his teeth, gnawing anxiously at them. Fuck, he thought, I’m an idiot. 

“Well?” You gesture to him, your eyebrows raised.

He didn’t respond. 

“I don’t even now why I’m entertaining this conversation. I’ll let you crash on my couch tonight but I want you out once your sober enough to get home. I’m going to sleep.” You speak, standing up from the ottoman. You went to your closet and grabbed a pillow and blanket, taking it out to Yoongi who still sat in the same position you left him in a few moments ago. 

Placing the pillow at the edge of the couch, you couldn’t help but feel your heart hurt for the man beside you. You knew that navigating the world of the suddenly famous was difficult, you watched it happen for years, and it took a toll on you as well. You were mentally exhausted, and you never felt like you could talk to Yoongi about your problems because his seemed to be so much more. You felt foolish if anything to try and compare your co-worker yelling at you to Yoongi’s legs giving out from practicing for 12 hours straight. 

Wordlessly, you pat the pillow to soften it, giving him one last glance and turning away while you heard the crack of his teeth biting into a nail. Old habits die hard. 

~*~*~

Yoongi tried his hardest to sleep, but when six in the morning rolled around, he realized there was no use. 

Leaning over to the notebook on the table beside the couch, he flipped to an open page and began writing. If there was anything he was good at, it was putting his words to paper. 

It felt like he was writing for hours, his mind clouding over with thoughts of you as he wrote. Sober now, he had the ability to properly reflect on the words that you were saying last night. It was difficult to discern last night. He was listening, and he heard every word, but he couldn’t get passed the tone that you were using. It was so mature, like you had aged mentally in the six months more than you had in the entirety of your relationship. He feared that he was the one holding you back from your full potential. 

After what seemed like ages, he placed the pen on top of the open notebook on your coffee table, and stood. His feet took a moment to carry him out the door, but he made sure to lock it as he left, hoping you wouldn’t just throw away the note without reading it. 

It didn’t take long for you to wake up after that, stretching your limbs before remembering the events of last night. Quickly, you hopped out of bed and rushed to the living room, scanning the area of the slept in empty couch. 

You sighed, but you weren’t sure if it was in relief or disappointment. Despite everything that happened last night, you still thought it was nice to see him. You had yet to admit it to anyone but yourself, but you missed him. 

You walked towards the coffee table, grabbing the notebook curiously and beginning to read. 

I’m sorry. 

It’s probably better for me to start it off like that than with anything else. I’m an idiot, and I’m so sorry for that. I was so caught up in everything happening that I never stopped to take the time to see how it may be affecting you. Sure, I wasn’t the only one experiencing this at the time so I wasn’t alone, but I felt so alone when I wasn’t with you. 

I used you as a shoulder to cry on, and you didn’t use me. I had no idea you were so hurt, and that’s my fault. You were my partner, you are the love of my life. I should have pulled my head out of my ass long enough to see that you needed me just as much as I needed you. 

I’m in no way trying to excuse my behavior. I’m just trying to explain my side of things. I’m in a better place now, as far as coping with fame goes. I don’t find it to be such a disaster anymore, I’m more comfortable with what fate has laid out for me. Well, everything but being away from you. I’m still working on trying to handle that.  

Thank you for letting me stay here. It warms my heart a little bit to know that you still care about me in some way and didn’t just throw me out on the street.

Although I know I was in the wrong here, I do hope you can forgive me. Even if you never talk to me again, I just want me to be one less thing that had you scorned. 

I still love you Yoongi.

You dropped your head once you were done reading, pinching the bridge of your nose. The sight of his handwriting alone made you emotional. You remembered seeing his scribbles on post it notes strewn across your apartment and his studio of random topics to write songs about. You always found his handwriting endearing. 

Taking in the words on the page, you re-read his sign off more times than you’d like to admit, your chest aching more and more with each time. 

“Fucking Yoongi,” you groan out into the empty room, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, then standing abruptly to get ready for work. 

As you showered, your mind was racing with thoughts of Yoongi. Of course you still loved him as well, but after careful consideration all those months ago, you realized it was better for you to take a bit of time for yourself and your mental health. 

Last night you were angry, and you said some things that weren’t entirely true. Yes, Yoongi did help you out when you were down from time to time. It just felt like your entire existence was spent helping Yoongi that it overshadowed the times he helped you. 

Admittedly you did leave him abruptly. The break up was filled with ‘I’m sorry’s and ‘It’s not you, it’s me’s. You told yourself that you had to get out then otherwise you knew you wouldn’t be able to do it. 

Being without him was so hard for so long, now that you felt like you were in a place where he wasn’t on your mind constantly, he pops up on your doorstep. He looked so damn good, too. Black hair (a stark contrast to the reddish brown you saw him in the day you broke up), black shirt and white jeans. He looked thinner, something that you always worried about with him, but he was still the same Yoongi that you love. 

His face didn’t leave your mind the entire day. The red-rimmed dark brown irises staring up at you in shock as you spewed on about your bullshit reasoning for leaving him. The way he just sat there and took it. The way he looked so defeated when you turned off the light and left him on your couch in the dark. 

After you got off of work, you sat in your car, staring at your phone. 

The contact name was changed from “Yoongles <3″ to just “MinY” a few months ago, something that it took you far too long to do. You couldn’t bring yourself to delete the contact, just in case. 

Sighing, you opened your messaging app and began typing. 

You: are you at genius lab right now? 

MinY: Yes. Please don’t come visit out of pity. 

You rolled your eyes, gnawing at your lip.

You: just let me come see you, dumbass. 

It took him a moment to reply, but when he did you unlocked your phone faster than you ever had before. 

MinY: ok. the passcode is the same.

The drive went by a lot quicker than you had anticipated. When you pulled into the parking lot of BigHit studios, anxiety filled you to the brim. Why were you doing this? What encouraged you to suddenly come here? How was staff going to react to you prancing back in there like you had so many times before? 

Clenching your keys tightly in your hand, you stared at the doors and continued to debate whether or not this was worth it. 

You had no clue what you were going to say, but you had to see him. 

Walking inside, you made it to the elevator successfully with no questions asked. Pressing the top floor button, the elevator stopped midway through and in walked Jimin. 

He didn’t seem to notice it was you at first, walking in while staring at his phone and noticing that the button was already pushed. He glanced your direction to see who needed to go to the top floor, his eyes going wide and his jaw dropping. 

“Wh- what are you doing here?” Jimin stuttered, shock washing over him in rolls. 

“I’m here to talk to Yoongi.” You say simply, clearing your throat and trying to avoid his eyes. You couldn’t help but feel like he must be mad at you for hurting his friend. 

Jimin didn’t speak again, only allowing you to walk out of the elevator and down the hall. Your eyes stayed on the floor, your arms crossed over your stomach in the process. You knew that people recognized you, but you just couldn’t face them before you talked to Yoongi. 

Yoongi was never one to be vocal about stuff, and you knew your break up never hit the media, but you couldn’t help but feel like everyone within the company was well aware of what happened. 

Stepping up to the door, muscle memory kicked in and before you could hesitate any longer, you were punching in the pass code and listening to the door unlock. 

You had walked into this scene many times before. Yoongi was sat in front of his piano, headphones on his head, his eyes closed as his fingers played silently across the keys. He was always so focused. 

Seeing this room again had images of you bringing in take out many times and massaging his shoulders while you told him to relax playing through your head. You glanced carefully at the black leather couch in the corner, unable to count how many times you and Yoongi had made love on there.

He still didn’t notice you, opening his eyes and scratching notes across the music sheets. You walked behind his chair silently, putting a hand on his shoulder and pulling away quickly once you felt him jump. 

“Jesus fucking-” he turned and met your eyes, his facial expression softening immediately, “-sorry I thought you were Jungkook.” 

“It’s okay.” It was quiet. Both of you were just puddles of anxiety, and Yoongi’s eyes searched yours for any ounce of pity, but there was none. He couldn’t figure out why you wanted to come here, and it took every piece of him not to begin panicking when he initially saw your text. 

He knew if he looked directly into the eyes of his bandmates, he would tell them everything in a panic and they would try to talk him out of saying you could come here. 

“Still looks the same.” You say suddenly, looking around the studio. The shelves of plushies from fans made you smile, he always tried to keep everything that was given to him. You noticed that the mannequin holding the Chicago Bulls jersey now had a BT21 hat sat on top of it, with various chains dangling from it’s neck. Whether Yoongi liked to admit it or not, he took pride in the way his studio looked. 

“Yeah,” he inhales, “I like the aesthetic. Makes it feel like home.” 

Making conversation with Yoongi had always come to easily before. Now that you hadn’t seen him in half a year, it felt tense. Not necessarily awkward, you knew if the circumstances were different you two could talk for hours whether it be about songs he’s writing or projects you’re working on. He just kept looking at you expectantly, waiting for you to say something. 

When your eyes trailed along his desk, you saw the photographs lining along the side. They were mostly Polaroids of him and his bandmates, except for one framed picture of the two of you when you first began dating. 

The picture was taken on one of your many visits to the dorm, Yoongi’s arms wrapped tightly around you while he looked down at your sleeping figure. You knew Namjoon took the picture, and later teased Yoongi immensely for the amount of love and adoration in his eyes while you slept soundly with him so close to you. 

You haven’t slept that well since you broke up. 

Yoongi spotted where your eyes were staring, reaching over and putting the picture face down. Silently, he saw the pained look in your eyes as he did so, swallowing and slowly placing it back up. 

“W- why?” You asked softly, his expression unreadable while he stared down at the floor. 

“I wasn’t lying when I said I still love you.” He didn’t look at you when he spoke, so your eyes went back to the photograph. 

Even in your sleep, your fingers clutched his arm around you, never wanting him to let go. Despite always feeling like he wasn’t there for you the way that you were there for him, you realized in that moment that his love language was different than yours. He silently supported you, loved you, cherished you. It was different from past relationships so you weren’t sure how you could see the signs. 

All this time, he was there for you in his own way, and you were too blind to see that.

You didn’t break your gaze away from the photograph until you felt a single tear slip from your eye. You moved quickly to wipe it away, but Yoongi had already seen. 

Normally he’d rush to comfort you, to pull you in his arms and allow you to cry it out on his shoulder, but he couldn’t right now. You weren’t his to comfort. 

“I’m so sorry.” You whisper softly, meeting his burning gaze. 

Again, he was unreadable. He only soaked in your words silently, before tossing his head back, “Why are you sorry?” 

“Because I didn’t see that you were there for me, just in your own way.” Another tear fell from your eyes. Yoongi had seen you cry before, but rarely. Every time, it was silent. He’d never seen sobs rack your body like you had seen him, but even this was enough to be jarring. 

“So I guess we were both a bit stuck in our own worlds, huh?” Yoongi spoke up after a moment, allowing you to silently soak in his words. 

It’s true. You were both so caught up in trying to navigate your own feelings that helping each other almost felt like a chore. Although you wanted to help each other, when your anxieties get overbearing it just makes it that much more difficult. 

“Past tense?” Your eyes were still on the picture. 

“Past tense for me. As I mentioned before, I’m in a better place than I was before, again besides the not having you around part.” He explains, suddenly feeling a little more relaxed than before. His nails weren’t being gnawed at constantly, instead his hands rested in his lap, clutched together. 

“I-” you begin, swallowing a choked sob, “I thought I was doing better without you.”

You could read Yoongi’s expression again. Sympathy crossed his brows, his eyes beginning to shine over with unshed tears while he watched you cover your mouth in an attempt to quiet your cries. It took everything in him not to reach forward and pull you into his arms. 

Then he couldn’t stop himself. 

Sliding his chair closer to yours, he hesitates for a moment before pulling you forward and into his arms. 

You fell into them so easily, your head falling onto his shoulder while your legs moved to straddle his thighs. He held you tightly, inhaling your scent while silent sobs racked your body.

“I’m so sorry,” you cry into his neck, “I’m so stupid.” 

All of your thoughts were a jumbled mess. You wanted to tell him that you didn’t properly think through leaving him, you wanted to tell him that you were so caught up in your own mind that you were being selfish. You wanted to shout it from the rooftops that you were the idiot who broke Min Yoongi’s heart, but your tongue wouldn’t form the words you so desperately wanted to say. 

“No you’re not, baby,” he strokes your back, “I did the same thing, remember? Our early 20s were a weird time for the both of us. We couldn’t expect perfection when we both had a lot of growing up to do still.” 

“You’re always so good with your words.” You pull away from his neck, noticing your tears on his shirt. Yoongi reached up and wiped away the wetness on your face with his thumbs. A sad, somber smile rested on his lips. It was the same one he had when you left him.

The memory makes more tears begin to fall. 

“P- please forgive me.” You whisper softly. 

“Oh baby,” Yoongi pulls you back in for another hug, “there’s no need to forgive each other because there’s nothing to forgive. We’re grown more as people, and we can both admit our mistakes.”

“I love you.” You breathe. 

Though it was something you said routinely when you were with him, it felt foreign on your lips to say again. 

“I love you too.” Yoongi responds, his hands stroking the back of your head. 

Then he pulls you down to him. You feel excitement rush through your body at the thought of his lips on yours again, but instead he presses a chaste kiss to your cheek. 

“What does this all mean?” You ask. 

“I don’t know yet,” Yoongi right now was such a contrast to last night. He was much more composed than before, and you no longer smelled whiskey on him, “I feel like we shouldn’t try to define what’s happening to us right now. If we hop into something too quickly, it won’t end well. I just know I want you in my life in some way.” 

You nod, wiping your nose. You took this as his way of saying that you were too close right now, so as you went to crawl off of his lap, his hands flew to your thighs and for the first time since you entered the room, his eyes seemed pleading. 

“I didn’t say I didn’t want you on me right now,” his fingers dug into your hips, “this is the first time I’ve touched you in so long. Please let me savor it.” 

Wordlessly, you move your hands to his wrists, guiding them up the sides of your body until they reached your cheeks. You embellish the feeling of his hands on your face, closing your eyes for a moment. 

His fingers were so long. You couldn’t help the images of his fingers knuckle deep in your heat flashing through your head. You opened your eyes to meet his, silently hoping he would begin to touch you again. You didn’t realize how starved for touch you were, but only his touch. 

Yoongi’s hands slipped off your face, trailing down your chest softly until he palmed both of your breasts in his large hands. You tossed your head back at the feeling, your tears long forgotten as you silently thanked yourself for wearing a thin bra today. 

“Do you want this?” He questions, his hands still kneading you. You looked down at him, unable to form words as you nodded. 

Yoongi moved his his hands underneath your shirt, slipping it over your head to expose your bra-clad chest. The minute your shirt was over your head, you couldn’t take it anymore. You gripped his face in your hands and slammed your lips onto his. 

The kiss was filled with so much need, but was also a silent apology. Yoongi was just as greedy as you were, his tongue darting out and into your mouth the moment you gasped at the feeling of him tugging at your nipples. 

The chair was too small for the two of you, so you tugged softly on the collar of his shirt to follow you to the couch. His lips didn’t leave yours as you moved, his hands unhooking your bra in the process and tossing it haphazardly. 

Yoongi fell on top of you when the back of your knees hit the couch, careful to catch his weight but unable to ignore how hard the sight of you shirtless in front of him was making him. Instinctively, he ground his hips into your spread legs, allowing you to feel him through the thick material of his jeans. 

“Please.” 

Yoongi took your plead as permission to slip your skirt and panties off of your hips. The sweet smell of your arousal immediately filled his nostrils. He thought he would burst through his zipper at the sight of you. Though your eyes were still rimmed with red from your earlier tears, the sadness was replaced with lust, need, and love. 

Yoongi slipped off the couch and pulled you towards the edge, moving your feet to each of his shoulders. 

“Fuck,” the word fell so effortlessly from his lips, “you’re so fucking wet.” 

“All for you.” You say, tutting your hips closer to his breath. 

Then Yoongi dove in. His tongue delved into your soft, pink flesh. You spread your lips for him, allowing him better access as his tongue wrapped around your swollen clit and sucked harshly. Your body convulsed at the feeling, finally feeling his fingers press into your entrance. 

Animalistic moans fell from your lips, your free hand flying to his hair and tugging harshly at the roots. This caused a groan to leave Yoongi’s throat, the vibration heating your core. 

“You’re still so loud,” he peaks up from you, his face half covered by your pelvic bone, “give me more, baby. Tell me how much you like it.” 

His fingers moved so much quicker now, his tongue lapping at you like it was his last meal. His words were enough to encourage you to scream his name as he curled fingers in just the right place, your orgasm rushing through your body in heated rolls. You didn’t even realize you were squirting until you unscrew your eyes open, glancing down to see Yoongi’s shirt and face soaked as he drank in your orgasm with blown out eyes. 

Something about the way his tongue kept finding itself on your clit as you rocked through your release made you come undone again seconds after the first. 

“Oh my god,” his hands shook at the sight in front of him, “I- I almost came in my pants. You’ve never squirt like that with me before.” 

You hid your face shyly, your chest heaving. You had never squirt before in your life, and both you and Yoongi had knew that. 

“Can you keep going?” his eyes were still wide, “are you- that was so hot.” 

“Fuck me, Yoongi.” You say as you lean forward, unbuckling his belt quickly. His hands beat you to unzipping his fly, pulling his jeans and boxers down in one go. 

You didn’t hadn’t had anyone inside of you since the last time you and Yoongi had sex, and the feeling as he pushed the head of his cock into you again was one of absolute euphoria. A harmonized moan fell between the two of you and he didn’t move for a moment, just drinking in your fucked out expression as your jaw dropped when bottomed out. 

His teeth grit together, “So tight and wet.” 

“Please move.” You ask, grinding your hips down onto him for any sort of friction. 

“I-” he couldn’t form a sentence. Yoongi was always the one in charge in the bedroom before, but having you around him again was breaking him. He didn’t know how to think, how to move. All he knew was your clenching walls milking his cock for everything that it was worth. 

You sensed his hesitation and flipped the two of you, straddling his thighs and beginning to ride him to your hearts content. His fingers dug into your hips as you did so, and all he could do was watch you. 

You leaned down to him, pressing your lips to his. He reached a new spot inside of you, his hips beginning to tut into you to meet yours. 

“I love you.” You breathe, Yoongi swallowing your gasp in the process. He didn’t respond, only allowing his hands to roam your body. 

“I’m gonna- oh fuck- where do you want me to cum?” Yoongi managed out, and you felt him twitch inside you. 

You had completely forgotten he wasn’t wearing a condom, and that your birth control ran out months ago. You just wanted to feel him cum inside you, the thought pushing your orgasm closer to the edge. 

“Baby-” Yoongi struggled to contain his moan, “If you don’t stop, I’m gonna cum inside you.” 

You nipped at his neck, “Then cum inside me, Oppa.” 

The use of the honorific was enough to send him over the edge, his hands stilling on your thighs as hot, thick strings of cum shoot inside of you. You moan his name as you come around him, milking his orgasm out of him in one of the most intense orgasms you had ever had in your entire life. 

Sweat drenched the both of you, your chest shining as Yoongi took your nipple in his mouth in a last ditch effort to please you just a little more. You couldn’t move, knowing that his cum was slowly leaking out of you and covering his own cock. 

Yoongi moved you to sit beside him, most of his cum spilling out in the process and covering the couch. He was too spent to care, only being able to look over at you while you cuddled into his side. 

“We’re going to have to get Plan B.” You whispered suddenly, your thoughts unclouding in the after math of your release. 

“Fuck,” Yoongi said, his thumb stroking your thigh, “you’re not on birth control anymore?” 

You shook your head, “Didn’t need it.” 

This made Yoongi’s heart flutter, knowing that you hadn’t had sex or wanted it anytime soon if it wasn’t with him. For a moment he forgot the last six months had happened, and that you were back for good, ready to softly stroke his head to sleep again. 

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, moving so you laid on top of him, “Shall we take a nap?” 

“But-” 

“We’ll talk about everything when we wake up. We’ll make decisions once we aren’t recovering from mind-blowing sex. Just, hold me right now. Then whatever we decide later will move our lives in the direction that it needs to go.” Yoongi said, silently begging you not to leave him high and dry.

You only nod, laying your head on his chest. 

In your sleepy state, you try not to over think his words too much, only trying to inhale his scent and the memory of his arms around you because there’s a chance that this is the last time that this happens. Even if that’s not what you want at all. 

So you two fall asleep, the soft breathing shared between the two of you lulling you into a deep sleep, your dreams filled with thoughts of a black haired boy with a gummy smile. The love of your life. 

[self-shipyard]

"Blackbird (Pt. 2)" - A Self-Ship Fic

SYNOPSIS: The second part of a special, two-part fic in which Gh.iaccio and Lumaca go for a walk after going out for dinner. There, he has a few surprises waiting for her. (Part 1)

Word Count: 1780

CW: In-Character Swearing, Fluff

"You were only waiting for this moment to arise."

The sun was just beginning to set when Lumaca and Ghiaccio left the restaurant and out towards the walkway. The light shone against the calm, rippling waters below and gave the nearby flora a bit of shine.

As they walked against the stone-paved path, he glanced down at himself. His thoughts went to how if anyone they knew were there, they would’ve hardly recognized him. After all, for the occasion, he was wearing a black dress jacket overtop a red button up shirt instead of his usual white coat. Everything else remained the same, even his leather gloves.

Then he looked over at his girlfriend, whose body was framed by the glow of fading sunlight. She too was wearing different clothes, only for her it was a black dress that went down to her knees overtop sheer black stockings and black flats. Her gloved hand was in his and her soft face was framed by loose strands of her dark hair.

God what a beautiful woman,he blushed to himself as he ghosted his thumb over her knuckle. It’s all built up to this, huh? I better not fuck it up.

“So,’ he asked, finally breaking the silence. “How’re you feeling?”

She turned towards him and gave him a loving smile.

“Happy and full,” she cheerfully responded. “Thank you for taking me out; it was really nice.”

Ghiaccio gave her a little smile right back and said “I’m glad you liked it so much.”

Lumaca’s attention went towards the seaside, her hand pulling him gently closer to her in the process.

“It’s so pretty out here,” she went on. “The sun setting gives this side of Napoli such a warm glow.”

“You’re right, it’s very pretty.” His attention was nowhere near the ocean when he said those words; they were only on her. “But you know, I never noticed that before we started seeing each other. It was something I was used to and didn’t really care about, but then you… I guess you helped me notice those kinds of things. The good things, that is.”

She looked over at him again, wondering if he could feel her heart beating wildly through her hands. Out of a sudden surge of love for him, she stopped their walking and held both of his hands in hers.

“I know exactly what you mean. I never thought I’d be so open before we got together…”

Lumaca leaned up and planted a kiss next to his ear, her free hand cupping the other side of his face.

“And I never thought I’d be so happy, Ghia,” she whispered. “You make me feel so alive.”

The feeling and sound of her whispered words made his whole body feel a pleasant tingle throughout.

“Yeah,” he murmured back, looking right into her eyes. “So do you with me…”

She gave him a quick peck on the lips before turning her attention back to the stone path before them. Her eyes squinted a little as something on a bench up ahead caught her eye.

“Hey, what’s that over there?”

She led Ghiaccio towards the bench, making his heart beat faster with each step closer towards it. As soon as they got within a few feet of the bench, she realized that it was a bouquet of fresh, fragrant flowers perched neatly upright against the seat.

She let go of his hand to take hold of the bouquet.

“I wonder who left this here,” she giggled as her eyes studied the bundle.

He took a deep breath.

“There’s a tag attached to it,” he said, helping her take notice of the small piece of paper attached to the string holding the whole bouquet together.

“Oh, you’re right!” She flipped it over to read the writing on the other side.

Her eyes blinked in surprise when she read: “To Lumaca my snowdrop. – Ghiaccio.”

She looked towards her boyfriend, who had been watching her with quiet intensity. One of her hands went up to her cheek.

“Is this…?!”

He nodded.

“I wanted it to be a surprise so I asked Sorbet and Gelato to leave it here for you.” He sighed. “Thank God they were willing to do it without letting anyone else know.”

“Ghiaccio, this is lovely!” she chirped as she put her free hand against his waist. “Thank you so much! I don’t know what to say!”

In his head, he said a thankful prayer that she didn’t notice that he had begun to sweat a little bit.

“Then why not say what each flower is supposed to mean?” he suggested. “It’s cute hearing you talk about it and I thought this out specifically for this occasion.”

Lumaca took a step back to look at her boyfriend in pleasant surprise.

“You thought about flower symbolism when you got this for me?”

“Yeah, I wanted to say something with them.”

She felt her heart skip several beats.

“You’re so sweet! And so good with details, that’s incredible. I’m not sure how I could ever return the gesture.”

Ghiaccio put his hands in his jacket pockets. For a second or two, she could’ve sworn that one of his hands was fumbling with something.

“Don’t worry about that right now, okay?”

She couldn’t deny that her curiosity as to what he seemed so on edge about was growing more and more with each passing second. However, thinking it might have just been her overthinking things, she simply smiled and nodded at him.

“Okay.” Her eyes went down to the bouquet in her hands. “Now, let’s see.”

Her fingers grazed the petals of one of the bigger flowers in the bundle and she hummed in thought.

“Hmm, these flowers are gardenias, and they represent happiness.”

He gave her a nod and he mumbled, “That’s right.”

He watched carefully as, with each flower she identified, she moved her finger against the soft petals. She stroked at one of the smaller flowers gently with her thumb.

“These ones, they look like sweet peas… If they are, then they’re used to signify pleasure.”

“They are sweet peas, yeah.”

Lumaca squinted a little in concentration at the biggest flowers in the bundle.

“Hmm… There are a few white dahlias in here. White dahlias are symbolic of purity, but then again the bouquet only has white flowers so… Dahlias in general represent commitment.”

Beads of sweat now began to pour down the sides of his head. Almost all of the flowers had been recognized.

There was just one more type in there.

“Mmhm.”

Her finger grazed against the petal of the last unnamed flower.

“And then-…”

She suddenly stopped, her curiosity peaking at the sight of the star-shaped flower. Ghiaccio’s heart clenched tightly in his chest at the sight of her expression.

“… What?”

“I just noticed how many Madagascar jasmines are in here.”

If she had been looking at him in that moment, she would’ve noticed how bad his legs started to shake in anticipation.

“Are you allergic to jasmines?”

“Oh, not at all! It just…” She breathed in the scent of the jasmines for a quick second. “I’m surprised to see them in here, since they’re always associated with… weddings…!”

She heard what sounded like him falling onto one of his knees with a thud. Her head quickly turned to see what had happened to him.

“Ghiaccio?”

Lumaca froze, and her eyes went wide.

With his back against the setting sun and his eyes never looking away from hers, Ghiaccio was kneeling and holding out a small, black box with the lid wide open. Inside of the box was a ring, silver in color and donning a dark blue sapphire that sparkled in the fading sunlight.

Time froze between them both before he finally spoke.

“Lumaca, you… You know how I said that you’ve helped me see the good things in life? Well, there’s other things you’ve helped me see. You helped me see that I can be more than what I thought I was. You’ve helped me see that I want more out of life, and that I want to take what we have even further. So will you…”

He swallowed thickly, the words getting caught in his throat, and his eyes closed tightly.

“Will you marry me?”

“…”

Ghiaccio opened his eyes in reaction to her silence.

He felt his heart drop to the pit of his stomach at the sight of the tears falling from Lumaca’s eyes and her hand covering her mouth. With the panic surfacing on his face, he thought that his whole world was coming undone.

This was all so new to him.

“Shit, I made you cry.” He started to make a move to get up. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I-I should’ve-!”

He froze.

She had rushed forward and wrapped her arms tightly around him, the bouquet resting against his back and the arm holding the box over her shoulder. The tears still streamed down her face, but in between sobs, she finally gave him her quiet answer.

“Yes.”

All he could do was sit there and blink, letting himself feel completely stunned.

“Huh?”

Her hitching breath sounded vaguely like laughing. She lifted her head up and looked him in the eye, her free hand cupping his face.

“Yes, I will marry you. Ghiaccio, I-…” She squinted her eyes closed and touched her forehead against his. “I would marry you so many times over if I could…!”

His free hand trembled as it caressed the small of her back.

“Lumaca, you mean that?”

Her eyes opened and she saw a rare sight; though his expression remained surprised, there were tears shining in his eyes behind his glasses.

Her thumb stroked gently at his cheek as she smiled at him through her own tears.

“Of course, I do. I love you so much and…” Her voice was shaky under the weight of her love. “And nothing would make me happier than to be your wife.”

His eyes finally gave way to those tears he didn’t realize he had been holding back.

“Bucaneve, I... I love you.” His hand went up and held her even closer to his body, the tears overflowing from his eyes. “Holy hell, I love you so much.”

“I love you too, honey." She couldn't stop herself from weeping with him. "I love you with all my heart…”

Ghiaccio suddenly remembered the box that had been sitting in his hand this whole time, and he knew what he had to do from here. After pulling off Lumaca's glove and plucking the ring out of the box, he took her left hand into both of his and carefully slipped the beautiful piece of silver onto her finger.

A perfect fit.

[angrypomerianian]

asexual bakubabe! and he’s hella supportive of midoriya and todoroki’s relationship. (he doesn’t show it, but he is. he also cares about the two of them even if he won’t admit it.) mina and denki get told off, but they are good people! denki is also just taught wrong, as people aroung him have been telling him that. he gets better!

also, this is also kind of my rant fic so details may be a little messy!

izuku woke up in todoroki’s arms. he tried to get up, but he only tightened his arms even more. izuku smiled, thinking how blessed he was to have such a nice boyfriend.

a voice drifted from downstairs, “izuku, shouto, get up or your going to be late!”

his mother had walked in on them once, which was mortifying, but she was very supportive. she had burst into tears, of course, which was awkward for shouto, but after that they built a nice relationship.

after that, inko also decided to buy some earplugs. because of the... night time activities. yes, that’s what we’ll call it.

shouto slowly woke from his slumber, groaning and twisting around in the fluffy blanket. izuku patted his cheek, and his eyes opened.

“good morning, izu.” izuku giggled. that was something shouto and kacchan called him, as they were his closest friends. kacchan would never admit it but the three knew it was true.

“good morning, shouto!”

shouto sat up, groaning and stretching. he started picking up his uniform and other strewn clothes covered in a sticky substaces, if you know what i mean.

they went downstairs to be greeted by inko and plates filled with pancakes and fruit.

it was a monday, and what a beautiful day it was. the grass was green, the sky was blue, and the sun was shining. shouto and izuku were walking together, pinkies slightly touching. they’d been in a relationship for a few months, keeping it a secret as they were afraid of their opinions.

they walked into the classroom, and many students were already there. they said their hellos to uraraka and iida, sitting down in their respective seats.

katsuki entered next, giving a nod to the couple. he’d already known about their relationship because he accidently walked in on them making out.

they didn’t notice, but they heard him screach, drop a bunch of things, and fall to the floor. they looked at him, his eyes widened with shock and disgust, and they immediately thought he was homophobic.

shouto was already ready to tell him off, but katsuki interupted him, “jesus FUCK you idiots! what the fuck are you doing making out in the FUCKING LOCKER ROOM!? go to the dorm room or some shit, an a s e x u a l student is trying to FUCKING CHANGE!”

they were both surprised. they’d already known that katsuki had no sexual interests, but they were shocked by the support. of course, he found out in the worst way possible, but they had a friend (katsuki will never admit it) that supported them.

izuku impatiently waited for class to end, he wanted to go home with shouto and spend some alone time together on this beautiful day.

izuku was wrong. it was a terrible, terrible day because both denki and mina were teaming up on them.

mina giggled, “it seems like you and todoroki got closer, don’t you think?”

denki nodded, “you both are on first name basis, too.”

izuku squeaked, “we’re best friends!”

“you were best friends at the beginning of the year, too!” denki put in.

“i think it’s love!“ mina said.

iida waved his arms around, “that’s a little intrusive, mina!” commanding as ever.

mina waved a hand dismissively, “whatever, this boy needs some love! and maybe some sex while he’s at it!”

izuku squeaked, and the girls’ cheeks reddened. sero started laughing. even katsuki’s eyes wavered slightly, unfocused. “i need no such thing!” izuku wheezed.

"it's like none of you have thought about it before. come on, we're all healthy teens. sexual tension is flying, and some of it most definitely needs to be resolved!" she exclaimed, gesturing with open palms. then she looked around wildly.

denki also agreed.  "sex. mina and i have experience in the arts of knowing these things, and we are here to counsel you. you're hopeless, the lot of you." she pointed at ochaco. "you need sex." he pointed at kirishima. "you need sex." katsuki. "you need sex. teenagers need sex, adults need sex. it's a natural part of life! but you two..." denki faced izuku and shouto, grinning. “you’ve already had it, didn’t you? it was recent.”

shouto was struggling to keep his poker face, and was fuming silently next to him. they were all silent, until katsuki exploded. it wasn’t one of those loud explosions either. his facade of not paying attention was shattered, and he slowly stood up, hands banging against the table, so loud that everyone startled.

katsuki was furious. anger rolled off him in waves. "enough!" katsuki wasn’t yelling, or giving off explosions. he was hissing, but was still loud enough for everyone to hear. "stop spreading your shit. sex is not necessary. sex is not for teens. not for us anyway. sex is for love or pleasure or not at all. don't spread your lies. you're absolute perverts, we're all only 16. i don't care what you two do in your own time, but you do not poison anyone else. i already have to put up with you all enough of the time without this shitty talk. so let me tell you this, nice. and. clear." he leaned over to where mina and denki sat, wide-eyed and terrified. "you say i need sex? let me teach you something new. you've never been able to accept that I don't fucking like to be among people socially, but perhaps you'll understand this; i don't need sex. i don't need touch. i loathe it. and right now, i loathe you. now i reccomend you both leave now, before i loathe you enough to move past words."

denki and mina couldn’t move faster. the entire table was silent, and katsuki was still fuming, watching them leave. he sat back into his hair, and carded his fingers through his fair. “jesus fuck.”

he stood up, and marched the opposite direction, also taking shouto and izuku with him. they left the cafeteria, leaving the class to sit in silence.

“well, i don’t need the sex talk with my parents right now?” momo tried.

katsuki pushed them against the wall, silent and tense. shouto was stiff, fists still clenched. katsuki rubbed a hand over his face, “shit, sorry about intruding like that. they just really pissed me off.”

shouto relaxed, and so did izuku. “thank you, kacchan!” “thank you, katsuki.”

he rolled his eyes, “whatever, i need to have a talk with those two.”

he left, leaving those two alone. shouto and izuku returned to the room, where the class was looking at them. kirishima put a hand on shouto’s shoulder, “he didn’t hurt you right?”

shouto immediately scowled, “no he fucking helped us. you shouldn’t be called his best friend if you’re going to doubt him like that.”

kirishima looked shocked, just like the rest of him, and the two left the room again. they heard katsuki talking to mina and denki, scolding them harshly.

“you two are unbelievable, you know that?” denki had the deceny to look a little ashamed, but mina looked like she was confused.

“those two have been dancing around each other, do you know how annoying it is to have to listen to each others rants about how amazing they think the other is? and they were worried that you guys would put them down, finding them disgusting. i saw you spying on them, like the nosey bitches you are, and i asked you not to bring it up. you agreed, even went as far as promise me, and you had the audacity to bring it up in front of everyone?”

“b-but it was gossip!” mina tried to protest. katsuki gave her the flattest look ever.

“yeah, and they were trying to avoid it, but you fuckmunches nearly gave it away. do you understand how they must’ve felt? it was lunch time. everyone was there, and you just had to bring it up in that room. couldn’t you have waited a little and ask them privately?”

“b-but what did we disrupt talking about sex?”

“because the two of them are in a secret relationship, which was supposed to be a secret, and just like how mineta was reacting to that, people aren’t very welcoming of two genders liking each other. they were terrified that you would bring that up, and you did. if i hadn’t intervened, you would’ve spilled it, wouldn’t you?”

mina and denki looked down in shame. they wanted to say no, they wouldn’t, but it was obvious they would’ve.

“b-but they’re liking the same gender!” denki protested.

"yes, kaminari. gay. does that threaten you?" katsuki responded in monotone, although they could both see the venomous eyes . "do you not remember what i said in the cafeteria? jesus fucking christ, not everything is cut straight and narrow like you. people are a whole range of colours you know. personally, i prefer shades of grey, but it does appear that shouto and izuku prefer blue, or the rainbow, or whatever you want to colour it. homosexual, queer, gay. but maybe you're more accustomed to terms such as faggot."

shouto and izuku were in shock by the ramble that katsuki went on. he doesn’t usually talk this much, but he seemed very set on supporting them and crushing anyone who were set on otherwise.

“if you have a problem with it, i’ll need to you leave the building. i hope you learned your lesson, but like i said in the cafeteria, if i start loathing you enough then i’ll be going past words.”

denki crossly looked at katsuki, “they’re wrong.”

katsuki lost his last line of patience. he punched the wall next to him, leaving a hole in the wall. “you’re wrong.”

kaminari pass out, and mina spoke up quietly, “you’re a good friend, katsuki. going that far to support them.”

he didn’t even spare a glance at her, “you no longer have the right to use my frist name. until i say so, you’ll be addressing me as bakugou. none of those childish nicknames either.”

when aizawa and all might checked the security cameras, they were in shock of the two student’s behavior, though it was expected. what was not expected, however, was that katsuki full on supported them. when they checked the other footages, anyone who said something was then seen bulldozed by one bakugou katsuki.

they decided to hold an emergency assembly, focusing on the importance of welcoming everyone, also playing the footage clip of katsuki telling the two off.

the class was half surprised about todoroki and midoriya, but welcomed them either way. kirishima also hugged the life out of katsuki until he almost lost an arm.

that day, the only two to survived katsuki’s wrath was the couple who’d sent him a gift basket filled with spicy sauce bottles.

[stefciastark]

Hallucinations ~ Webpril Day 19

A/N: WARNING (briefly mentioned graphic violence, but nothing extreme, just putting a warning in case). After a hallucinogenic gas explodes in Peter's face during a mission, he is plagued by nightmares and flashbacks. Tony steps in to help. Apologies for any inconsistencies or general bad flow on this one, I had to write in a bit of a hurry before an early A.M class tomorrow and I haven't had a chance to give it a once-over. Hope you guys enjoy this one :) x

~Read it on AO3

~Read it on FFN

“Kid, kid! Stop!” Tony grasped Peter’s wrists as they flew once more towards his face, and he staggered forwards with an ungraceful jerk, almost falling onto the bed. How the hell was the kid this strong?

“Get off me!” Peter thrashed on the bed wildly, eyes open but looking feral and petrified. Peter’s response was purely instinctual, and nature had chosen ‘fight’ as his defense mechanism. It was too bad Tony wasn’t in his suit to help contain it.

After an incident a few days prior involving a gaseous compound that caused vivid hallucinations, Peter hadn’t gotten a good night's sleep since. Neither had Tony. The kid had been caught right in the face with the gas during the few seconds that his mask was down, whilst Tony was lucky enough to have his built in air filtration system save him from the hell that ensued.

Peter didn’t talk about what he experienced. At least not to Tony, but Tony couldn’t quite think of anybody else that Peter would go to. Tony really wished the kid would open up to someone.

The dim light from the ensuite bathroom cast light on Tony’s forearms. They were covered in bruises that looked like scattered wine stains with the varying shades of deep red and purple.

Peter’s struggles dissolved in intensity, and his eyes slid shut again. The poor kid was exhausted, and each - almost - sleepless night was taking its toll.

Once Tony was sure Peter was asleep once more, judging by the now even breathing, he slid to the carpet below, back leaning against the side of the bed. Feeling powerless to help the young Avenger, he stared blankly into the wall, suddenly transported back to a time when he suffered much like Peter was.

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

“Good morning, Peter. It is currently 9:30 A.M. Today it will be slightly overcast with a high of 73.4 degrees. You have no upcoming events. Enjoy your morning.”

With a groan, Peter rolled over and covered his head with an adjacent pillow. This was the first time in a long time that F.R.I.D.A.Y had woken him up. Closing his eyes once more, he prepared to re-enter the world of sleep.

That plan immediately was foiled as “Thunderstruck” blared over his room’s speakers.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y…” Peter whined, sounding more like a spoiled toddler than he cared to admit.

“I apologise, but this is part of Mr Stark’s ‘Couch Potato’ protocol. If you do not leave the bed in the next thirty seconds, I will have to initiative Phase 2, which involves-”

“Okay, okay!” Throwing the sheets to the side, he swung his legs off the side of the mattress. As soon as his feet touched the floor, the music stopped, and he sighed in relief. At any other time he would have loved the sound of classic rock, but he felt overstimulated and irritated by almost every sound, sight, and whatever else assaulted any of his senses.

The rational part of his brain told him that Post Traumatic Stress Disorder was a probable culprit. Maybe it was spending so much time around Tony “I’m Fine” Stark, but Peter didn’t particularly want to address the issue. He was strong, he could brute force his way through it, no problem. As far as he was concerned, none of the other Avengers were getting psychological help - although in all fairness they needed it - and he didn’t want to be seen as weak. He didn’t want it to seem like he couldn’t handle the mental duress that went with being an Avenger.

Half-conscious, he went through the automatic routine of having a shower, brushing his teeth, and throwing on a basic outfit. Today’s choice consisted of jeans and a Hawkeye T-Shirt that Clint had unironically bought him last Christmas. Blearily shuffling into the kitchen, Peter considered taking up drinking coffee in the mornings; it seemed to be universally known as the almighty bean juice that provided a form of liquid Carpe Diem.

He half expected the whole Avengers team to be in the common kitchen area. They usually were in the mornings, but today it was dead quiet. Dead quiet except for Tony, who was flicking through the latest issue of Wired magazine. In his left hand was a mug that said “World’s Okayest CEO”. Peter had to guess that that mug was courtesy of Pepper. If it were up to Tony, ‘okayest’ would have been swapped with ‘best’.

“You know, these photos don’t really do me justice. I’m much sexier in person. I mean look at this,” Tony flipped the magazine around, showing Peter an article that summarised Tony’s latest successes and blunders. The photo Tony’s finger was tapping on was of Tony at the Stark Expo a few months ago. His smile blatantly looked like he would have rather been anywhere else.

Peter opened his mouth to send a smart remark in response, but instead he froze in place, air stuck in his lungs, his throat jumping as he struggled to get words out. The sound of percolation coming from the coffee pot dredged up the memory he was trying to forget: the dripping of blood - Tony’s blood - creating a macabre mosaic on the pavement as he hung suspended by cables and wires. Steve’s hand had been wrapped around Peter’s ankle in a silent beg for release from life, a large shard of glass having punctured through his chest. The worst of all of them was Aunt May, eyes staring open and lifeless, neck bent at an unnatural and gruesome angle that was burned into Peter’s retinas for the rest of time. On all sides, marching towards him, had been an army consisting of Doombots, Chitauri, and the remaining Avengers. Those he had come to trust had come to betray him.

“Whoa, whoa, you’re alright, c’mon.” Tony’s brow was furrowed, and although his voice sounded distant and miles away, it was gentle and full of understanding. Peter shook his head, shaking the visions away with it.

“Grab your phone and wallet, kid, I’ve made you an appointment.” Tony swept up his sunglasses - this time tinted orange with a silver frame - off of the coffee table and tucked his phone into the inside of his jacket pocket.

“An-an appointment? For what?” Peter was taken by surprise, fully expecting - and hoping - to vegetate on the couch that day. The TV turned his mind off, the white noise drowning out the visions that replayed in his mind over and over again.

Placing a comforting hand between Peter’s shoulders once Peter had returned from a quick phone and wallet retrieval mission, Tony guided him towards the elevator. Pressing the ‘down’ button, he turned towards Peter. “Taking you to a psych. I don’t know how to-” Tony gestured vaguely, lost for the right words he wanted to say. He sighed, and started again. “I didn’t exactly deal with my stuff the right way. Didn’t think I ever needed a shrink, but let me tell you, one conversation with Bruce and it changed my mind completely.”

“Isn’t he not that type of doctor?”

“Don’t interrupt, I’m trying to have a heartfelt father-son moment with you here and break the whole cycle of shame about…” Tony trailed off again, seething internally at his inability to string a semi-coherent sentence together. “My dad didn’t really believe in that kind of stuff,” Tony continued, eyes darting to the elevator display and then returning back to Peter. “Anyways, you’ve been having nightmares. You can’t sleep. I can’t sleep because you can’t sleep, and,” Tony winced, “I don’t think the whole counselling shtick is my forte.”

As the elevator doors chimed open, Peter stepped forward and promptly wrapped his arms around Tony in a heartfelt hug. Clenching his eyes shut against tears that threatened to overflow, he murmured, “thanks, Mr Stark” into the fabric of Tony’s jacket.

[dakt37]

Anyone in the mood for Steve/Tony secret identity shenanigans with a dash of mutual pining?

Behind the scenes I've been wildly obsessed with this ship since about April, and the other day I wrote something that I'm fond of enough to share. It's not a fic really, more of just a treatment with some dialogue scattered about. 2.4k-ish words, present tense because that's the way my brain works. Inspired by a slew of fics I've been devouring this week, but hopefully not close enough to be ripping anyone off.

//

Okay so, it's one of those versions of the Avengers where nobody* knows that Tony Stark is Iron Man. They know he built the suit and is the Avengers' sugar daddy and resident inventor, but they think Iron Man himself is a separate guy, hired by Mr. Stark to be a bodyguard and pilot for the armor. His identity is Top Secret. Heck, at first everyone thought he was a robot. That cat got out of the bag, but it was true enough to tell everyone that he was just pretending to be a robot to protect his secret and not let enemies know of a potential weakness; i.e., that he's squishy under the armor. Plus, if people knew Iron Man was really a man, they'd try to figure out who he is. And Mr. Stark is very serious about wanting to protect his employees. (*Pepper and Rhodey know, and probably Happy? But no one else.)

Well Steve ends up falling for Iron Man anyway. Even not knowing his real name, his face, or even his true voice because it's always modulated (in an obvious way; it's tinny and robotic, part of the Iron Man branding). He gets him in private one day and confesses, in a very adorable and awkward way. Tony panics because honestly he's fallen for Steve too, but he can't let him know that, at least not now as Iron Man. He doesn't quite reject him the way he should-- that is, he doesn't directly say he's not interested. He knows Steve would be able to see straight through the lie, so instead he just keeps insisting that he "can't" return his feelings.

They go back and forth a bit about possible roadblocks. 

"Is it because I'm a man?" 

"What? No, that doesn't make a difference to me." 

"Is it a trust issue?" 

"Of course not, I trust you with my life." 

"Is it because of your boss?" 

Iron Man hesitates because… well yeah! Technically it IS because of Tony Stark. 

Steve sees the opening and presses on, "Would he… let you go if you revealed your identity to me?" 

Iron Man chuckles, to Steve's consternation, "No, he couldn't do that. It's just… he… it's complicated." 

Steve opens his mouth to continue his inquiries, but Iron Man cuts him off. "I'm sorry, Cap. I really, really am." And he flies away, feeling like a jackass and a coward.

Steve meanwhile just feels determined and suspicious. Iron Man isn't afraid of being fired, but there's clearly something to do with Mr. Stark that's holding him back. Steve decides to pay a visit to the Avengers' benefactor to get some clues.

//

Later, Tony is down in an Avengers lab, brooding about the latest fine mess he's found himself in. This secret identity thing is getting to be a real pain in the ass. And if Cap has been paying attention to Iron Man enough to think he's fallen for the Tin Man, then surely he's been paying attention enough to notice how rarely Iron Man and Tony Stark are in the same room together. The armor has an autopilot mode, but it's not so convincing now that people know that Iron Man is a real guy in a suit and not just a robot. 

So Tony has set himself at the task of improving the autopilot. The AI part isn't actually so hard; he's made some pretty personable AIs before. But JARVIS is just a voice; Iron Man also needs to move. Getting the subtleties of natural movement into the armor is tricky business. He runs analyses on video footage of himself to nail down things like how he shifts his weight while standing around, how he gesticulates while speaking, and how he interacts physically with his teammates on the battlefield (a friendly shoulder pat, a hand up, flying with a passenger, etc.)

The movements of the autopilot are getting smoother, but there's still a little lag to non-battle actions, causing the beginnings of a gesture or sentence to seem a bit stilted. Tony uploads his latest iteration of the code into the suit and starts putting it through its paces.

//

It's certainly not the first time Steve has walked in on Mr. Stark working on the Iron Man suit. Between fixing battle damage and adding upgrades, there's usually some pieces and parts scattered around the lab. But today it's the whole suit, assembled and standing apparently of its own accord in the middle of the room. A few wires are connecting it to the ceiling and nearby computers, but they're slack. Data cables and fall-arrest lines maybe, but nothing actively keeping the suit upright. Steve freezes, half hidden behind one of the partitions used to divvy up the lab space. He hasn't announced himself yet, and Mr. Stark is clearly wrapped up in his work. 

Steve stares at the suit, wondering. It's standing unnervingly still, but that doesn't negate the possibility that the pilot is inside, being careful and patient as Mr. Stark circles him and taps various joints. Tony moves to stand in front of the suit, hands on his hips, looking up into the glowing white eyes. Steve's gaze rolls over the pair, noting in an absentminded way that Iron Man's height advantage is at least partly due to the large rocket boosters in his boots. Steve has always known Iron Man to be the same height as himself, if not slightly taller, and he suddenly wonders where the pilot stands without those boots.

Tony lifts a hand and knocks lightly against the chestplate. "Relax, buddy."

The suit shifts, and Steve inhales sharply despite himself. It's like watching his fellow servicemen go from parade rest to at ease; not a huge move, but an assortment of loosening muscles that breathes life into a simple standing pose. Iron Man shifts his weight slightly onto one foot, cocking a hip. His shoulders relax, and his helmeted face tilts down to better meet Mr. Stark's gaze. 

Tony grins. "Hey there." He sounds pretty pleased. "Let's do a voice check. Give me a catch phrase."

"If we can't protect the world, you can be damn well sure we'll Avenge it." Iron Man's voice seems extra robotic, syllables not quite falling where they should. It hitches as well, the last word dissolving into static. Steve frowns along with Tony.

"Oh, gross. That was awful. Downgrade from the last test for sure." Tony cups Iron Man's jaw with one hand, encouraging him to tip his head back. "Bad coil too, sounds like." He taps Iron Man on the neck with one finger, where his Adams apple would be under the armor. Steve swallows reflexively as he watches. "I'll have to get that from the inside," Tony mutters, more to himself than to Iron Man, Steve feels, but then Tony has a habit of doing that to just about everybody.

Tony reaches up to hold Iron Man's jaw in both hands now. His fingers slide along the metal almost like a caress as he tilts the helmet down to face him again. Something twists in Steve's stomach. It's an awfully familiar way to touch another person's face, even though a helmet. Tony's index fingers sweep up and catch in the seam where the golden faceplate meets the red jaw. There's a soft click, one Steve is sure he couldn't have heard if he didn't have enhanced hearing. His breath stops. 

Tony is going to lift the faceplate. He's going to reveal the man underneath. Of course he can, of course he knows who the mysterious pilot is. But they don't know that Steve is there. He's not supposed to know. He promised he'd never pry. Should he announce himself? Run? Just close his eyes?

The faceplate has only come away from the helmet the barest inch when Tony stops. For one wild second, Steve thinks he's been made. Surely one of Mr. Stark's computers picked up his presence. 

"This isn't priority," Tony declares, pressing his thumbs to the corners of Iron Man's mouth slit and closing the helmet with another audible click. "A broken voice box is excusable. Need to make sure you can move right first."

Steve leans on the room divider he's still mostly obscured by, feeling almost dizzy. His stomach twists again, and he's not sure if it's from relief or acute disappointment. He'd never want to break Iron Man's trust, or Mr. Stark's for that matter. But… he'd been so close… he could have finally known… He shakes his head, refocusing on the pair across the room.

Tony has retreated to a nearby workbench, picking up a rubix cube. He tosses it at Iron Man. "Reflex check." The armored man catches it easily. "Let's see your dexterity," Tony prompts next. Iron Man starts twisting the cube, but quickly gets jammed as the blocks don't quite get flush with each other before he tries to twist in a cross direction. Tony chuckles. "It's not a race, buddy. JARVIS, increase finger sensitivity by ten percent." Iron Man pauses, then reassesses the cube, feeling around the sides and smoothing the blocks into place before choosing his next twist. Steve finds it slightly odd that he's not looking down at the cube as he manipulates it, but he supposes that the point is the hand motion and not to actually solve the puzzle. It's important to have spatial awareness even without your eyes, after all. 

Tony grins wide again. "Much better." He takes the cube back and tosses it uncaringly over his shoulder. "Let's work on your people skills. Oh!" He throws his hands up in mock despair, pitching his voice in silly melodrama, "There's danger afoot! Save me, Iron Man!" 

Iron Man tilts his head to face his employer, and Steve would swear he could read fond exasperation in the slight pause before he responds. Or maybe Steve's just projecting his own feelings about Tony's antics. 

"Fear not, citizen," Iron Man deadpans. "Iron Man is here to rescue you." 

Tony bursts out laughing, but is interrupted as Iron Man wraps an arm around his waist and pulls him in. Steve can't help but smirk at the honest to god squeak that Tony emits as Iron Man tucks him tightly into his side. Tony squirms, smacking Iron Man's chest with an open palm as he gasps, "Too tight!! Ease up fifteen percent!" The metal arm around his waist loosens slightly, and Tony slackens with it. He huffs, laying his cheek on Iron Man's shoulder, forehead against his neck. "Careful with your psi there, Romeo. I don't need any civil suits on my hands over cracked ribs."

Iron Man pauses again before replying, "Okay." He shifts his head, looking down at Tony. "Are you injured." His voice still has a bit of a flat quality. Steve hopes Mr. Stark fixes that "coil" in his voicebox before their next team-up. It's hard enough to pick up some of his more subtle inflections through the modulators on a good day; Steve doesn't want to lose any more of his true voice.

"Nah," replies Tony, shifting against the metal arm that's still wrapped firmly around his waist. "Fit as a fiddle. Fit to fly, in fact. Passenger test. Low hover."

Iron Man adjusts his stance, free hand flattening palm-down to activate the flight stabilizer. He lifts Tony with his other arm, helping the smaller man step up onto his metal boots. Tony slides his arms up, wrapping them securely around Iron Man's neck. Steve's stomach does yet another odd twist as his brain supplies him with the word, "embrace."

"Hold on tight, citizen," orders Iron Man, activating his rocket boots and sending them straight up, about two feet off the floor.

Tony is laughing again. It's a light, mirthful sound; not the derisive scoff Steve is used to hearing from him. "That's too cheesy, oh my god. You sound like Cap in an old news reel." Steve startles at the mention of himself.

"I'll ease up on the cheese by fifteen percent," replies Iron Man, echoing Tony's previous comment. 

Tony's eyes sparkle. "Much better. Love to hear that good humor."

"Easy to have good humor with such good company."

"Oh ho! Careful with the flirting out in the field. Can get a guy in trouble."

Flirting. 

The word bounces off Steve's brain, rebounds against the inside of his skull, and then sinks in like a throwing ax lodging into a tree with a 'thunk.'

Flirting. 

Iron Man was flirting with Tony Stark. Tony, the only one on the team who knew his true face. Tony, who so carefully tended to the armor that kept the man inside safe. Tony, who caressed Iron Man's helmeted face, laid his head on his shoulder, twined his arms around his neck. Tony Stark, the most eligible bachelor in the world, who was never known to have the same date twice, let alone to ever be in a real relationship.

The revelation crashed into Steve as if Iron Man himself had tackled him. Iron Man couldn't not date Steve because of his secret identity. He couldn't date him because of his secret relationship. Iron Man and Tony Stark were involved, and hiding it from the world. Iron Man by hiding his face, and Tony by acting the flighty playboy. 

Steve was so shocked, so utterly distracted by the parade of emotions stampeding through him, that he didn't register that the hovering pair was slowly revolving on the spot. At least, not until he heard Tony's alarmed yelp of, "Steve?!" and looked up to find him staring directly at him, wide-eyed, over Iron Man's shoulder.

Tony Stark was not a man who embarrassed easily. In fact he was self-described as shameless. On the surface there was nothing suspect about the sort of tests he was running with Iron Man. Steve would bet bottom dollar that in any other circumstance, Tony would cheekily play up the potentially questionable nature of their current pose, reveling in the salacious humor. But instead he was panicked, caught out. And that clinched it for Steve. He'd stumbled onto a secret affair.

Steve realized his mouth was hanging open, waiting to say words that his brain wouldn't provide. For a second, Tony seemed equally dumbstruck. Then color rushed to his face, and he barked, "Get out!!" 

Steve didn't need telling twice. 

[misterewrites]

The Heart of Civilization (Welcome to the Underground!)

Summary: Abigail's first experience of the Underground's capital is nothing like anything she's dealt with before but luckily she's got two guides. While the group decides how to handle their current arrangement, Oliver comes up with a surprising solution.

Hello everyone! It's done! I'm no longer behind schedule! E HERE WITH THE NEXT CHAPTER OF THE UNDERGROUND! WOO! Sorry it's been a chaotic, long few weeks. But I hope you are all doing good. So here we go the first major arc of the underground. Enjoy! I hope you are all safe, washing your hands, wearing your masks, get the vaccine if you can and keep each other safe! Comment, reblog, tell your friends. All that is super helpful for me and I love feedback. That's it for me, have a great week! E is out! Gonna nap!

Read this chapter or the whole thing if you’re curious with the link found below

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27814297/chapters/77710460

Cities were never silent. It was impossible to be given how much life was concentrated in a single location. Even smaller towns and villages in the middle of nowhere were always bursting with the sounds of the living: Cheery drunks, clanking armor of the city guard patrolling, the odd night owls who could never find rest under a starry sky. The life and soul of any place were the people.

So naturally Abigail was taken aback by the immense silence.

She knew there was sound given how sudden she was buffeted backwards by a wave of unseen force. Archie and Oliver felt it too given how their bodies jerked but unlike her, they had been expecting it.

There was a strange disconnect between Abigail’s senses and her brain as it tried to piece together what exactly was going on. She was actually starting to get a headache as her mind tried to make sense of conflicting information.

Her eyes watered and burned at the soft light that emitted throughout. It wasn’t as warm or bright as sunlight but it was close enough to make Abigail feel stuffy in her thick riding cloak. Oliver took off his cloak and began helping Archie out of his so Abigail followed suit, putting it away carefully in her backpack.

She asked how was there light down here but her words were muted and felt strange leaving her mouth like she was simply mouthing her question to herself.

It should’ve been noisy given that there were dozens of people on the stony street: children of various races running about playing different games among themselves, adults huddled together their faces serious with concern or relaxed at ease yet all were muted with a quiet that was inescapable.

Abigail knew this must’ve been the outskirts of the city given the conditions of the clothing and houses here. The only thing the homes shared was a ramshackle look to their construction and a strange mark written in their surface: Some were made of stone, others wood with a rare building made of metal. Short squat homes built deeper into the ground that were clearly dwarf design clashed horribly with the tall, gravity defying stacked one room story floors that were elvish hobbles.

Abigail pursed her lips, unsure what to make of this whole situation when Oliver’s voice appeared from nowhere, distant and echoing like he was speaking from the other end of a tunnel.

“You okay?”

Abigail jumped, flailing about wildly at the noise that cut through the quiet.

“Don’t do that!” Abigail shouted, annoyed, but nothing came out.

Oliver chuckled to himself soundlessly as he gestured to her with two pointed fingers.

“Haven’s Nest is the biggest city in all the Underground.” His voice crackled “You noticed it in the tunnels, no? How far sounds can travel in a confined space? Imagine trying to live in an entire city like that. You’d lose your hearing within a day. Well less given how much you like talking to people.”

Realization dawned on Abigail as she pointed to the strange items nestled in her ears.

Oliver nodded, his fingers still outstretched “Magical filters. They protect your ears from being overwhelmed by the noise or annoying conversations.”

Abigail thought for a moment before pointing two fingers towards Oliver.

“Is that why…?” she flinched at sudden reemergence of her voice “Wow that’s really off putting. Is that why they just hand them out at the entrance?”

“Mhm. Bad for tourism if you went deaf visiting the capital. Haven’s Nest: come to lose your money, leaving with 50% less hearing.”

Abigail stifled a laugh “So if I point like this?” she gestured with the two fingers “I can talk to people one on one. What if I want to talk to a bunch of people?”

“Make a fist. It’ll let you talk to and hear everything in the immediate area.”

Abigail looked at her hand before closing it into a fist. She winced as the city life popped back into existence without warning: The children shouting and cheering at their losses and victories, small talk about work and how members of the community were doing, unhappy grumbles about the price of food these days and the lack of respect the youth held for their elders.

The city was alive once more.

“Do we have to wear these the whole time?” Abigail asked, opting to keep her fist closed for simplicity's sake.

Archibald shook his head tiredly as he pointed to the strange symbol that were scrawled on every building’s surface.

“Sound bubbles.” Oliver explained “The magical symbols create a little pocket barrier around each building so you can only hear what’s happening inside. It be pretty infuriating if you need to sleep with the filters on. They don’t exactly stick in your ears perfectly.”

Archibald agreed.

“Oh okay. And the…”

“Lights?” Oliver cut in with a knowing smirk “Dwarfish design. A lot of important business happens in Haven’s Nest so a day night cycle is helpful. Harsher light for the day and softer glows for your shady night business.”

“Your shady night business” Abigail glared at Oliver before glancing upwards. Now that the bard pointed it out, she could see what he meant: Hundreds of smooth glass panels were packed tightly together on the ceiling of the cavern. Many of them gleamed with the warm light that bothered her when she first came in but she also noticed some were blackened, either powered down or broken from constant use.

“I take it this is the only place in the underground that has this level of dwarfish engineering.”

“Only non-dwarf city. Dwarves are a little hoardy with their tech.”

Abigail nodded “So this is the boonies, right?”

Oliver gave a mocking look of pride “Look at you knowing your terms. Yeah, this is the less fortune part of town. Still pretty nice all things considered. Up ahead is the Merchant Ward. Well ward is a misnomer but it’s the closest word I can come up with.”

“Looks like someone needs to up their vocab.” Abigail teased.

Archibald chuckled softly.

“And you.” Oliver gestured to the archer “What’s the plan now?”

Archibald eyes shone with understanding. He motioned for Abigail to help and handed her his pack as he began to search for something within. It took a minute but soon Archibald produced a crumpled up envelope. He handed it to Oliver while gratefully smiling at Abigail.

Abigail smiled back as Oliver tore the envelope and read the letter.

“Dear Greenfield and Bard, tis I! Borrick Copperstone. As you now no doubt have discovered, my boy Archie isn’t the most talkative person.”

Oliver spared Archibald a playful look “No kidding.”

Archibald waved Oliver’s comment off.

Oliver cleared his throat, his voice becoming booming and cheery as if mimicking the old dwarf “So I have written this letter with the following instructions. Archibald will be taking the 5 gold payment and I expect you to buy him a fine meal! As promised. In addition, Archibald has been given instructions to wait at the Right Hook inn in the Merchant Ward. Feel free to drop him off or you may part ways once in the city proper. Thank for your business and I wish you safe travels!”

Archibald reached to take the letter back but Oliver slapped his hand away with the paper.

“No.”

Archibald tilted his head quizzically.

Oliver narrowed his eyes “I don’t want you crying to your boss that you got injured on the job and we just dropped you first chance we got. We’re taking you to the Right Hook and we’re gonna keep an eye on you until we are sure you’re better. Right Abigail?”

Abigail was caught off guard by the sudden shift to her but she noticed the knowing glint in Oliver’s eyes “Right. Right! It’s only fair given you risked your life for us. I mean I still need to figure out what I’m going to do next and Oliver’s competition is in a few days so we don’t really have a reason to split up just yet.”

Archibald flushed a lovely bright pink.

“So it’s settled!” Oliver beamed “We’re taking to you Right Hook, get you rested, Abigail will buy you that meal she promised Borrick.”

“Hey!”

“You were negotiating” Oliver pointed out “You made the deal now you have to honor it.”

“I hate you.”

“And” Oliver went on without acknowledging Abigail further “We’ll get you to a cleric tomorrow, maybe do Abigail’s side quest and I still need to sign up for the competition.”

“My side quest?” Abigail’s face scrunched up thoughtfully “Oh! Cecilia’s wizard mentor person. That guy. Wait, how did you…?”

“So we take it easy today then we’ll go out tomorrow. Sorry solider boy you’re stuck with us a little longer.”

Archibald’s face was one of sheepish embarrassment but he smiled appreciatively all the same.

Abigail pursed her lips “Why don’t we do it today? It’s only afternoon if I’m reading the dwarfish sunshine right.”

“We almost died.” Oliver spoke plainly, shooting at glare at some people’s gaze who began to wander their way “I don’t know about you but I don’t wanna deal with anything else except a good meal and being alive.”

Abigail thought about for a moment. She could feel the tension in her body, her arms and legs were stiff. She was okay for now but the idea of doing more things today left her feeling drained.

“Yeah good point. We should take it easy for now. I’m not used to life or death situations.”

“I noticed.” Oliver turned to lead the group “Though it’s not like they get any easier.”

“What?”

“To The Right Hook!”

-----

At first traveling was relatively easy: The outskirts of town held only one path and it was simple to get her bearings situated. However the trouble started when they reached the Merchant Ward of the city.

Without warning the mismatched, battered homes became sleek, colorful uniformed buildings. Traditional human designs of varying heights and hues littered as far as the eye could see, each with the same symbol Oliver had pointed out. While the ceiling was narrow above the outskirts, here the cavern opened impossibly wide. Countless dwarfish panels of light were held high above in differentiating states of decay, blazing nearly as bright as the sun. The road became less stony and move cobbled as the paths branched out in every direction. People of various lifestyles hustled back and forth as the sounds of the city washed over her. Even the little Abigail could hear reminded her of the capitol on the surface, the sheer chaos that existed in larger, more populated places.

Oliver seemed to know where he was going. He would look at these towering signs with names written upon them. Street signs he called them. Abigail never heard of such a thing before but she was grateful for their existence.

As the trio traveled deeper into the Merchant Ward, Oliver began pointing out the various sections of the city.

“Over there.” Oliver pointed to a far off road that curved upwards through a tunnel “is the Clifftop Distract. Rich people turf. Anyone of value or wealth are squirreled away up there.”

“Of course.” Abigail murmured softly to herself. Somethings never changed.

“To the east past the Merchant Ward is East Haven. More homes less business but there are few inns, pubs, stores out there for all your shopping convenience.”

“Like a little village?” Abigail questioned, trying to see if she could equate it to something she knew.

Oliver paused for a moment “Actually yeah. Like a little village next door. Better off than the boonies but not as fancy as Clifftop. Middle of the road as it were. As you can tell, Merch Ward is a little chaotic. Not many people like the idea of living here.”

Abigail raised an eyebrow at a fist fight between a gnome and a dwarf “Couldn’t guess why. And past East Haven?”

“The east gate out of town. Haven’s Nest only has three gates: West in the outskirts, south for the Merchant Ward and East. The west and east are for public use but the south gate is only used for deliveries, soldiers, supplies, patrols etc etc etc.”

“How much further to the Right Hook?”

“Should be round here somewhere, right Archie?”

Archibald nodded in confirmation before pointing a nearby building.

The Right Hook was a wooden building painted a dark red and five stories tall. While the wood outside seemed aged and faded, the doors and window were new as if they had just been replaced. The sign that hung over the doorway was in a fancy font and showed an outstretched hand in the middle of a punch. The hand, ironically, was the left.

“I like it!” Abigail beamed cheerfully “It’s got character.”

“I believe that’s what we call a mistake.”

“It’s charming.”

“It’s wrong.”

“You’re wrong!”

Archibald softly laughed to himself as he followed the arguing pair inside.

The trio took off their filters, carefully placing them away in their pockets for later use. Abigail could feel her ears pop: Every laugh, word, noise was crisp. She could hear the sounds of all within the building but the chaotic symphony of the city remained outside.

“Now what?” she asked, rubbing her aching ears.

“Order some food. I’ll check us in.” Oliver offered “No doubt Borrick probably paid a room for Archie.”

Before Abigail could fathom what Oliver had just said, the bard disappeared deeper within the building.

“Always fun with Ollie huh?”

Archibald snickered then winced as he held his stomach.

“Sorry” Abigail smiled softly “Must be sore. Let’s find a table.”

Archibald and Abigail scanned the room and quickly spotted one nearby. The pair made their way over when Archibald pulled out the chair and gestured for Abigail to take a seat.

Abigail giggled while she sat down “Thank you good sir! I’m glad someone is a gentleman here.”

Archibald flushed as he pushed her chair in and took his own across from her.

-----

Food and drinks were ordered and brought out by the time Oliver returned, a quiet thankful look in his eyes as he noticed the third plate of meat and vegetables steaming in front of an empty seat.

“Thanks” He muttered quietly, sitting at the table.

“You okay?” Abigail watched him carefully “You look like you’re experiencing emotions.”

“I know I hate it.” Oliver gave a cocky smirk and returned to his usual self “Borrick paid for a full week for our good friend Archie so he’s cover.”

“But…” Abigail chimed in “I’m hearing a but.”

“You’re going to have to room with him.”

It wasn’t obvious who was more surprised by this information: Abigail or Archibald. Abigail’s eyes went wide and she could feel a blush spread across her cheeks while Archie simply choked on his drink and began coughing his lungs out.

“WHAT?!” Abigail and Archibald caught each other’s eyes “I...I-I don’t….I mean I don’t mind but…”

Archibald kept choking.

“Relax, it’s not as bad as you think.” Oliver began with a lazy wave of his hand “It’s...well big. On the 5th floor. It’s like a mini home I guess. It’s one room with two separate bedrooms inside. I think. It was a little confusing but I’m betting it’s for whoever is coming to pick him up. You know, to get a day’s of rest before they have to travel back.”

Abigail opened her mouth to protest but Oliver kept going “They only had one other room: A little broom closet on the second floor so be grateful I didn’t shove you in there and decide to bunk with my best friend Archie.”

Archie shot a glare as he finally cleared his throat.

Oliver grinned playfully “It’s only for a day or two until other rooms open up and we can all get our own separate, real rooms.”

“Well.” Abigail twiddled her thumbs “If it’s only for a few days…”

Archibald said nothing, opting to drink his water and hoping no one noticed the red in his cheeks.

“Well then it’s settled!” Oliver said with a hint of finality as he began digging into his meal.

-----

Despite the less than ideal sleeping arrangements, the trio managed to relax: Food, drinks, chatting idly about little things.

Night came quickly and true to Oliver’s warning, Abigail could feel exhaustion ebb into her bones.

The trio made their way to rest and as they dropped off Oliver to his little tiny room, they couldn’t help but ask.

“You sure?” Abigail eyed the broom closet distastefully “You could always sleep in our room. With Archibald.”

Archibald pointed to the floor jokingly.

Oliver gave tired chuckle “I’m good. I’ve slept worse places. Besides I need a break from all….this”

He motioned to the both of them. Abigail was unsure what he meant by that. Archibald simply shot daggers at him.

“Go” he shooed them away “Go and let me get some rest before I gotta deal with both of you in the morning.”

“Okay…..night Oliver.”

Archibald waved goodbye and the pair vanished up the stairs.

Oliver slipped into his room, a small place with a bed on one side and some walking space on the other. A window as wide as the room itself hung on the other end.

A tiny broom closet indeed.

Oliver locked the door behind him and placed his bag onto the floor. He took a moment to hide his lute and the more valuable possession he had, both monetary and sentimental. He cracked his fingers and neck before opening the letter the innkeeper slipped him. Oliver mentally mapped out the location scrawled on the paper then ripped it to shreds.

Oliver brushed clean his outfit from the day’s grime and made his way over to the window. The dwarfish panels shifted to night mode: the warm bright light of the day replaced with a cool, silvery glow that darkened the underground. He pulled out the magic filters from his pocket and put them on. He lifted the window and was grateful the barrier kept the sound outside from coming in.

“Thank god it’s the second floor” he murmured to himself as he began to climb out.

-----

4 hooded figures were huddled in the darkness of an alley, deeply engrossed in their conversation.

The tallest, a muscular woman, fidgeted unhappily “We been waiting for 30 minutes. I don’t think the guy is gonna show.”

Another cloaked figure, a woman a head and half shorter than her companion gently took her hand in her own “Sweetie you need patience.”

The muscular woman flushed in embarrassment “I know Flora but you know how I get antsy when I gotta wait. I hate waiting!”

“I know Terri but we must wait. He will be here. Correct Tyrell?”

Tyrell, a younger gentleman of 20 scratched his chin thoughtfully “That’s what the message said. Came in this morning on the West Gate board. Said he was traveling with some people but he’d meet up with us within the hour of the meeting time.”

“Ugh” Terri groaned “We should get a move on. The party isn’t going to last all night and we got work to do. We need to find the...”

“Wait.” The last figure whispered quietly “I hear something.”

The group held their breath, fists clasped tightly so they can hear what was approaching.

It was faint but Terri could hear the soft patter of footsteps. They moved with such a gentle foot that only Terri’s years of survival training allowed her to catch it.

Terri stood up to her full height, her thick muscular arms tensed for a fight as a shadow inched closer to the group.

“Show yourself!” Terri shouted, falling into a fighting position.

Oliver stepped out of the darkness, his hands lazily in his pockets.

Flora eyed him carefully “Very weird to be wandering back alleys, no sir?”

Oliver cleared this throat “My name is Oliver, First Chair Soprano in The Choir.”

The group shared a surprised look with one another. Their missing fifth member had finally arrived.

“Now.” Oliver spoke with a mischievous smirk “Who we robbing for the greater good?”

[readyplayerhobi]

Flower | 04

; Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff, light angst, insinuated smut

; Word Count: 3.3k

; Synopsis: You finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the Flower dating app. One of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh…incredibly handsome. What happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

; A/N: This week...you get two chapters! The usual Sunday chapter will also occur, but I didn’t want to leave you waiting for the second half of their date too long! So...consider this my Black Friday deal I guess? Let me know what you think, I love reading you love your this <3

; Flower Masterpost

-

Inhaling deeply, you let your cheeks puff out as you slowly let out the breath that you’re trying to use to calm yourself down. Tonight is officially the night, the date. Or whatever he wanted to call it. And here you were, in the outfit in your best friends had picked, waiting for one Jung Hoseok to appear.

You’d been terrified all day that he wouldn’t actually turn up. That he’d ghost you, and you’d have to fight the tears as you called Soyeon and Chungha to tell them that the emergency supplies were in fact necessary. Even though Hoseok had messaged you again this afternoon, reminding you of your date.

As if you were somehow going to forget a scheduled date with him!

But you were here, at the appointed time outside of the large modern art statue in the centre of the city. It was a common spot for people to meet up as it allowed for quick and easy access to most places within walking distance so you weren’t surprised that he’d picked here. Plus, it was in public and you appreciate all the people who were around.

Pulling your phone out of your bag, you turn the screen on and check the time once more, frowning slightly when you see that he’s two minutes late. It might not seem a lot, but you always got a little antsy and worried when people were late. You usually turned up fifteen minutes early and then just waited around. 

Better to be early rather than late.

“Y/N?” The deep voice comes from your left, causing you to squeak in surprise as you jump, whirling around almost comically to face one Jung Hoseok. Who looks even more handsome than his photos make out, which is just plain wrong. That should not be allowed. You were probably a colossal disappointment in comparison.

He was dressed equally casual to you, black skinny jeans with rips clinging to his legs and ending in leather military style boots while a plain white shirt adorned his chest beneath a black leather jacket and thick silver chains around his neck. You couldn’t help but take a small step back, looking over his visage with wide eyes as your mind accepted the fact that people like him really did exist in real life.

His hair was styled for once, swept off his forehead in a look that had obviously been done on purpose and yet looked completely effortless while the nearby lights from a shop front shone off the silver ring in his lower lip. 

“We match.” You say dumbly, pointing at his clothes before cringing at how dumb you sound. It throws him for a moment, dark brows rising on his statuesque face before his eyes run over your body before looking down at his own. And then he smiles, and you swear your knees go a little weak.

Because if Jung Hoseok is handsome normally, then he’s out of this world when he smiles. It positively lights up his face and his eyes almost gleam with happiness as he lets out a raspy laugh.

“So we do. You look very beautiful. Your makeup is amazing!” Hoseok exclaimed, eyes widening as he leans a little closer to take in the carefully placed makeup that you’d spent half an hour putting on. It’s nothing hugely special, a little bit of a smokey eye with black eyeliner and a shimmer of rose glitter on the lids of yours with a touch of silver glitter liquid eyeliner. You’d wanted to match your outfit and put in a little bit of an effort, but not make it look like you were ready to walk a red carpet.

Still, your stomach swirled with a combination of happiness at his compliment and nerves at the overall meeting. The teenage part that still lived in you wanted to scream and jump at the fact he’d called you beautiful. Hands clutching at nothing once you put your phone away, you glance at him from beneath your mascara covered eyelashes and smile shyly.

“Thanks. You look good too.” The words are almost mumbled out and you grimace at yourself, nose wrinkling as you wrack your brain for what you’re supposed to say to him now. You never had any idea how these kinds of conversations were meant to go and you made a slightly odd noise before gesturing lamely. 

“So...what do you, I mean...what are we doing for our date-I mean...hang out? Or whatever this is.” Idly, you eye the fountain ahead of you and wonder how quickly he might leave if you just jumped into it and refused to come out. Because the awkwardness was building and you felt jumpy with the nerves and anxiety, desperate to give him a good impression but so unaware of how to do that.

He doesn’t laugh at you thought, just gives you a gentle smile before gesturing down one of the streets. You start to move automatically, the ghost of pressure from his hand on your back sending tingles around your body and you look up at him through wide eyes, noting how beautiful his side profile is.

Your side profile probably didn’t look that pretty.

“Well...I guessed that you might be a little nervous about tonight given how quickly you tried to back out of talking to me...so I thought we could do something that means we have to work together and talk, without actually having to talk about anything serious. So...I booked us an escape room and then we could have dinner after?” He sounds so carefree about it and you pause for a moment before gasping in delight.

“Oh my god! I’ve always wanted to do an escape room! Is it themed? I saw there was a Harry Potter one somewhere and that would be so cool! I don’t really know how they work and I’ve always been a little afraid to do them in case I’m too stupid to figure them out.” You don’t realise your babbling till you catch sight of his grin once more, body heating in embarrassment as you duck your head and apologise.

Immediately though he’s soothing your fears, giving you little cooing noises and an overly dramatic expression that has you snorting out a laugh. “Hey, don’t do that! It’s cute, I’m glad you’re excited. That’s what I wanted. I wanted to try and find a way to make you a bit more comfortable. I know how nerve wracking first dates are and I’ve been pretty nervous too.”

You look at him then, a look of pure disbelief written all over your face so plainly that he lets out a bark of laughter, his hand coming up to cover his mouth as he points at you with the other. “Oh god, your face. I have! I’m not lying. I know I can look pretty intimidating but I’m just a guy and first dates are just as scary for me.”

“Mmm, I’m sure they are. Especially when you look like...this.” A brief movement of your hand gestures to his whole body and he looks down with a breathy laugh again, shaking his head before looking at you, tongue running along his lower lip. 

“I get the feeling you’re pretty blunt and sarcastic. Am I right?” Immediately you look away, shoulders hunching as your hands grip your bag tightly. 

“Sorry. I don’t mean to. I don’t mean to sound like that, it just comes out.” He’s shaking his head though, smiling to himself as he looks forwards and directs you down another street before pointing at the sign for the escape room.

“It’s okay. I like people who speak their mind. As long as I know that you’re joking if you say something mean…” You go to protest at that but it dies at the sign of mischief in his eyes, recognising that he’s coaxing you out of the shell he obviously knows you must have built so strongly around yourself. And your heart warmed in response, glad that he’s not immediately pushing you away and in fact encouraging you.

“We’ll see if you still think that after we’ve got out of the room...if we can get out.” Hoseok hums, tapping his finger against his lip ring before grinning brightly, opening the door to the business and giving a completely over the top and ridiculous ‘enter’ gesture that has him bowing comically. Even as silly as it looked, he still looked amazing yet you felt a little more at ease with how open and friendly he was being.

“After you my lady. I have full faith we will get out. How hard can these things be?”

-

“What the actual fuck was that. Seriously! We didn’t even get out of the first damn room, I didn’t even know they had more than one room!” Hoseok rants, his cheeks slightly red as his brow creases while he gesticulated wildly through his rant. You watch him, amused for a few moments before continuing to walk along with him.

Despite his bravado at the start, you had both actually done abysmal in the escape room. You’d quickly discovered that Hoseok had absolutely no idea what he was doing in there and you’d tried your hardest, only to discover that you’d been fixating on a strange looking picture which actually had absolutely nothing to do with anything.

The staff had been incredibly amused when they finally let you out after an hour, telling you both cheerfully that no one had ever not managed to get out of the first room before. At least you’d made an impression on them, and you’d probably be an amusing story for Hoseok’s friends too.

He certainly was going to be for Chungha and Soyeon.

It had been fun though, oddly fun to say you were making no progress. Hoseok was funny, the kind of guy who made you laugh without even realising he was trying as he’d talked to himself in confusion, brows knitted together before exclaiming in a loud and suddenly thick dialect. You’d ended up spending a lot of time giggling at him and surprisingly, you’d managed to find out more than you’d expected during that hour.

He’d talked about how his friends would love to come and do this but that he wasn’t sure if they’d do worse or better. Apparently, the thought that two called Yoongi and Seokjin would probably do well. They were both sales account managers at Seokjin’s father’s company while someone called Taehyung worked as a customer service rep at the same company.

He was apparently the blue haired guy in Hoseok’s profile picture on Facebook, while the pink guy was Jimin. He worked as a bartender at the usual place Hoseok and his friends drank at; a dive bar basically that was frequented by bands trying to start their career. Jungkook was in college, doing a postgrad degree in sports psychology and his final friend, Namjoon, was a lawyer. 

The diversity of his friends bemused you, but he’d said that was because most of them he’d met in college. Jungkook was apparently one of Taehyung’s friends who’d slowly become integrated with Hoseok’s friend group once he’d gone to college whilst Namjoon was a childhood friend. You’d found it fascinating that he considered six people his close friends when you couldn’t imagine having more than two or three.

It was then that he’d queried your friends, asking if you had anyone who might like to come to an escape room. Chungha would have been happy to get involved but you knew that Soyeon didn’t like the idea of being locked in somewhere. She had claustrophobia and while it wasn’t bad enough to make her panic in an escape room, she wouldn’t be happy at not being able to escape.

Other than that, it had mostly been passing comments that had led to small discussions between the two of you as you both tried to figure out what you were doing. Which evidently hadn’t worked, given you hadn’t gotten out but it had relaxed you all the same. You’d almost felt comfortable around him by the end, the fact it was a date pushed out of your mind until you’d both finally walked out of the door.

And now you were faced with the dinner. On the one hand, you were eager because you were hungry but on the other hand, it meant that you had to finally talk one on one, without the interruption of something else. Hoseok doesn’t seem to notice your sudden quietness, his hands gesticulating as he continues to talk about your previous activity and you follow along.

You don’t know where he’s taking you, but you hope it’s somewhere nice and not too fancy. Somewhere that you’ll actually enjoy the food. He pauses suddenly, mouth open and letting you get a glimpse of the silver ball in the middle of his tongue and you feel warm at the sight, wiggling slightly as your best friends comments race through your head out of nowhere.

“Oh god, imagine getting oral from him. That tongue and piercing...oof...yes please.” Soyeon sighed, fanning her face and looking up to the ceiling as Chungha lets out a low whistle. The photo they’re looking at is one where Hoseok is sticking his tongue out fully, a festival scene behind him and his tongue piercing clearly on display.

Her comment makes your cheeks heat while you squirm slightly, embarrassed at what she said but even more embarrassed at the fact you too had thought of that already. There was no way in hell that you would admit to perhaps touching yourself to the thought of that tongue doing things to you.

“I bet he knows how to use it too. That man has the confidence of someone who’s brought many to orgasm. Girl, you are going to be so lucky if everything works out!” Chungha giggles, pushing at your shoulder while you whine softly to her. You could only hope that you wouldn’t end up hyper fixating on that piercing, because it had become one of your little group of friends favourite things about him.

Needless to say, that hadn’t worked and you let out the quietest breath as he ran that tongue over his teeth slowly, eyes focused away from you and completely unaware of just how ridiculous hot he was right now. It was just plain wrong, yet you can’t pull your eyes away from the straight lines of his jaw, nor the way the tendons in his neck strain just right as he looks down the street.

“Are you okay?” You croak out, coughing slightly to clear your throat and you hope he hasn’t noticed how husky your voice sounds. Thankfully though, he jerks in response to your voice and looks at you slightly dazed for a moment, dark eyes focusing again before he smiles lopsided.

“Yeah, sorry. I just...I don’t remember how to get to the restaurant I was thinking of. Do you like Indian food? There’s this really great place...that I know is here somewhere. I think we need to backtrack and then I can find it,” He pauses before giving a self-deprecating laugh. “Sorry, you’ve discovered flaw number one already. I am useless with directions. Don’t ever ask me to find somewhere. We’d end up in France. Don’t ask how, we just would.”

The laugh that leaves you is unexpected and loud, but you can’t help it and you see him grin in response out of the corner of your eye. He’s looking at you expectantly though, one brow raised as he reaches up and runs his fingers through his hair. Eyeing him for a moment, you nod your head and grasp desperately for the right words.

“That’s fine, I’m great with directions, luckily. I think I know where you mean, it should be back down the street and then to the right.” Pointing, his eyes follow your hand and he lets out a little ‘ah’ noise before smiling brightly.

“Great. Let’s go. I want to eat some good ass food. Mmmm, it’s been so long.” He moans out and you almost choke on your own spit at the sound, body feeling very warm at the overly sexual sound. The man just oozes sex appeal and it’s almost appalling how attractive you find it, but it also leaves you very flustered and unsure what to do.

So you just begin walking in the direction you’d pointed, staring down at the ground while your hands grasp at your bag and your shoulders rise up almost to your ears. A huff of laughter is behind you before the sound of shoes hitting the ground takes over, echoing over the quiet street and then he’s next to you again.

“Hey don’t leave me! How will I ever find it?” Hoseok pouts almost comically and you watch him for a few seconds before raising your brow.

“You’re a big boy. I’m sure you know how to use Google.” There’s a moment of silence and you wince, just about ready to tell him that you’re sorry and you didn’t mean to insult him. Because he was probably insulted, or offended. Or something at you. Either way, you could’ve been nicer.

But instead, he just lets out a loud laugh and shakes his head in amusement before looking you over with an expression that’s almost fond. “Point taken. Let’s go get some food. I want some naan bread.” 

“Did you know that naan just means bread in Old Persian so technically you’re just asking for bread bread?” The words come out automatically, your natural instinct to just give a random fact and you don’t even realise it. It was something you’ve always liked to do, looking up information and absorbing it like a sponge. Your friends liked to joke that you were always prepared for a general knowledge quiz.

“Yeah? Why do we call it a naan bread then?” Hoseok asks cheerfully, interest laced in his voice and you shrug in response.

“For the same reason we say chai tea or Sahara desert. There’s also Lake Tahoe, because Tahoe apparently comes from a Native American word meaning, you guessed it...lake. Another favourite of mine is Table Mesa, which just means table table.” You carry on, remembering more examples as you continue and you laugh in amusement at yourself.

Hoseok chuckles as he walks alongside you, giving you a look that you don’t notice as you babble on about places that are also similarly named, letting you telling him more and more places while he just listens. Finally, you realise that you’ve been talking for too long and give him a chagrined look before apologising.

He just shakes his head and grins. “No...it’s okay. Oh...I know of one! The Los Angeles Angels! That just means The The Angels Angels. You’d think that we’d take into consideration the original language meaning sometimes wouldn’t you? Though I guess every language does it.”

The casual acceptance he gives you of the random tangent you’d just gone on warms something inside you and the fact he’s even actively got involved makes you smile ever so softly. Nodding at him, you note that you’ve finally arrived at the restaurant and duck your head down.

“Okay...let’s go...oh my god. I should tell Jungkook about that naan thing. He can just say ‘let’s get this naan!’” You frown in confusion but he just laughs in response, shaking his head and gently pushing you through the door. “I’ll explain inside. Come on, I want to eat!”