#-and saw that it was over 4K nearly made me fall out of my seat DNCJCJDMD

[niyana-the-ambiguous-mobian]

Omg, this was so GOOD!

Happy birthday, Tails!

"Fevers Can't Ruin Birthdays"

based on this post by @niyana-the-ambiguous-mobian :)

AO3 version

Sonic didn’t have to be a genius to know that Tails had never had someone celebrate his birthday before they’d met. The kid had been the littlest outcast there ever was, for the dumbest of reasons. He’d been shunned and abused for what Sonic in all seriousness considered to be one of the coolest things about him— his extra tail that let him fly. On top of that, Tails was an absolute genius.

Too bad Sonic had to be the first one in the entire world to notice all this. Or maybe not so bad, because that meant he got to keep him. Which was quite possibly the best thing that had ever happened to him.

They’d been with each other for years now. Things were familiar between them. Familial terms flew from both their mouths in reference to each other all the time without hesitation. Tails had grown so much and now had a level of sass that rivaled Sonic’s. And now the kit was approaching his tenth birthday.

Sure, Sonic had made plenty of efforts in past years to celebrate his little brother. He’d thrown parties, bought out hardware shops in the hopes that whatever he brought would be useful to Tails, and even once made a horrendous attempt at making a birthday cake. (He hadn’t tried again since that first time, although Tails had at least appreciated the thought.)

But this year? This year was extra special somehow. Not only was Tails finally entering double-digits, it was going to be his first birthday after coming back from his extended time of solo adventuring. His “going it alone,” as he’d told Sonic he’d wanted to do back on Starfall Islands.

Sonic had missed him to no end during that time, although they’d still texted most days. Now, Tails had been back for a few weeks. He hadn’t said a word about his upcoming day, but there was no way Sonic would ever forget it.

He’d made plans, alright. Conspired with Knuckles and Amy, Vanilla and Cream, the Chaotix, even Silver and Blaze (though that had been a bit of a challenge). He’d convinced Tails to head out to one of his live-in labs that was closest to all of their friends, to make it easier for them all to come together. He’d spent an entire week shopping (with help from Amy), looking for anything that Tails would even potentially like. Mechanical stuff, computer stuff, bags of mints, lego sets the size of a dining table, video games, a collection of tiny metal airplanes he found at a thrift store, etc.

He had the entire day planned out (which was something that he usually never did). He’d hidden the giant assortment of gifts in a bunch of random secret places and connected them all with strings (although the arts and crafts store had been pretty ticked that he’d bought out their entire supply of yarn). Amy was going to make a giant, absolutely gorgeous cake. Knuckles was helping Cream decorate banners and blow up balloons. Vanilla and Vector were helping him organize everything. Sonic was going to take him to all their favorite places and they’d have races and go sightseeing and maybe dive off a cliff or two. It was going to be perfect. Sonic was absolutely determined to make sure that fox knew exactly how much he was loved.

… So if he woke up on the morning of the long-awaited day feeling a little more lethargic than usual, if he had some kind of tension in his head and felt a little congested and a little rough in the throat, well, he would keep that to himself.

Correction: he would try.

—

“Hey, Taaaaiiilllsss.” The voice was teasing and familiar, but surprisingly gentle for being an apparent wake-up call. Tails barely stirred from his dream, making the slightest of humming noises in acknowledgement.

A hand gently shook his shoulder. “Happy birthday…” the voice went on to sing, albeit quietly.

Still mostly asleep, Tails barely rolled over and automatically finished with a sleepy, “To yoouuu.”

The voice— Sonic, no doubt— snickered. “Nuh uh, lil dude. It’s your birthday!”

Tails smiled as he finally started waking up for real. “To meee,” he corrected, opening his eyes halfway as he began pushing himself to sit up.

“There ya go!” Sonic laughed, reaching out to ruffle Tails’s already-messy bangs. “Welcome to double digits! Just wait till you…”

Tails paused in his climbing down from bed as his brother trailed off in his sentence, instead ending with a sneeze.

“Bless you.” Tails hopped off the bed and grinned.

“Eh. Thanks.” Sonic shook his head and smiled back. “Sorry. What was I saying?”

“Just wait till…” Tails prompted.

“Aw, yeah— just wait till ya see everything I’ve got planned!” Sonic dragged him in for a tight hug, then a noogie, and Tails squealed with fake protest.

Sonic let him go, grabbed the end of the yarn lying on the floor near the bed, and shoved it in Tails’s hand. “Just follow the string!”

Tails laughed, but obliged. “Wait, what? What is this, birthday edition of the Wizard of Oz?”

Sonic shrugged. “I woulda built a yellow brick road, but I didn’t think you’d appreciate me messing up your floors like that. Didn’t think the public would be much of a fan, either.” He turned his face away and sneezed again.

“Whaddaya mean the public? Bless you.” Tails frowned a little when Sonic didn’t immediately turn back towards him, instead reaching up to rub his nose, then his eyes. “You good?”

At the concerned inquiry, Sonic quickly snapped back towards him. “Yeah, I’m good! Now come on, your day awaits!”

Tails kept an eye on him even as he smiled and started walking alongside the string, which he now noticed was stretched out across the floor and tucked in random places out of sight. “Are you getting sick?” he asked Sonic, who scoffed.

“‘Course not. You know colds are too slow to catch up with me.” Sonic gave him an exaggerated wink. Tails rolled his eyes.

“Lame joke, but you sound all stuffy.”

Sonic rolled his eyes right back and put his hands on his hips. “Maybe your ears need cleaning out again.”

“Just like your immune system needs cleaning out?”

“Stop sassing me, or there won’t be any cake.”

“Fine.”

Tails knew Sonic was joking about the cake bit. He still wasn’t sure if Sonic was actually sick or not, but if he was, there was no way he was going to just admit it and go to bed. He was one of the most stubborn people Tails knew, and he hated to be vulnerable in front of other people.

So, deciding to hope that Sonic wasn’t lying and maybe was just sneezing excessively for no reason that morning, he went along with the plans Sonic had created, which admittedly were all pretty fantastic.

“Yooo, is this the newest game from AGES?” he squeaked as he flew up into a tree after the string and found the tenth gift tucked in the branches.

“You bet!” Sonic called from the ground, although his voice sounded extra raspy when he raised it. “Pre-ordered it ‘n everything! I dunno if you watched the trailers for it, but it looks sick. Hoped you’d like it!”

Tails hovered back to the ground, picking up the previous gifts alongside the video game case that he’d left at the base of the tree. Sonic turned his head and coughed a couple times.

“Speaking of ‘sick,’” Tails mumbled, eyeing his brother worriedly.

Sonic waved him off. “I’m fine, I said. Besides, there’s still so much left to do!”

Tails sighed. He was beginning to think that his initial intuition was right, but was Sonic going to care? Nope.

They headed into town next, and Tails finally understood what Sonic had meant earlier about the public. If they hadn’t been world-renowned, Sonic probably would’ve gotten in trouble with the local government for leaving string and random computer parts in cardboard boxes all over the parks and roofs.

The sun was high in the sky at this point. They met with a few of their friends in the streets, too many to be a coincidence, but Tails didn’t mind one bit. While all the effort was definitely heartwarming, it would’ve been easier to enjoy it all if he weren’t so worried about Sonic, who was looking more tired by the hour. Every now and then he’d catch him rubbing his head when he thought no one was looking, as if trying to ward off a headache, and every couple minutes Tails heard him sniffling.

They had lunch with the Chaotix, and Tails of course chose chilidogs. It may have initially been Sonic’s favorite, but his love for them had rubbed off on Tails over the years. The taste of them always brought warm, pleasant memories, and almost for the sake of those memories alone, they were one of his favorite meals.

And he would’ve had an easy time enjoying them now, but it was hard when Sonic was barely picking at his, in the seat next to him. He’d taken a small bite or two, but was now doing nothing more than staring at them with slightly glazed eyes.

Trying not to make a scene, Tails nudged him a little. “Not hungry?”

Sonic blinked and looked back at him, his eyes clearing. “Um. I dunno.” He picked up his chilidog, immediately set it down again, then twisted aside to cough again, as quietly as he could.

Tails caught Vector eyeing the hedgehog from across the table and winced. “You good there, Sonic?” their older friend questioned.

Sonic looked back at the crocodile, almost uncomprehending for a moment. Tails looked between them. Sonic waved a hand. “Not you, too. I’m fine,” he sighed, even though his voice cracked when he spoke.

Espio looked towards them, away from his whispered argument with Charmy that no, Tails was not obligated to share his three new lego sets with him. “You don’t sound well,” he pointed out.

Sonic glanced back at him, squirming under the sudden scrutiny of everyone else at the table. “Hey, quit staring,” he complained, then smiled way too big and nudged Tails. “This is Tails’s day. Give him all the attention!”

Tails gave him a look, deciding that it might be better to be upfront about this than to spare Sonic’s dignity. “I’m not the one who needs medical attention,” he said with a tiny shrug, smiling apologetically when his brother shot him a pleading look.

Vector sat up straight. “Wait, are you sick?”

“No,” Sonic protested, his ears flattening slightly.

Espio leaned down and started fumbling through one of their bags under the table. “I think we still have flu medicine leftover from when three of us had it a few weeks ago. You can take it if you need it.”

“Noooo, thanks.” His big brother looked like he wanted to disappear, although at this point Tails couldn’t tell if the redness on his face was from embarrassment or an oncoming fever. He looked meaningfully back at Espio and nodded, and the chameleon quietly slipped him the bottle under the table.

They managed to go the rest of the meal without bringing up the sickly elephant in the room, but Tails couldn’t brush off his worry. More and more he wanted so badly to just take his brother home, tuck him into bed, and take care of him until he was healthy again, but with the way Sonic was, such a thing would be immensely difficult.

“Ready for a hike with the gang?” Sonic asked him, with about as much energy as he could summon at the moment.

“A hike?” Tails echoed, brows rising. “Why don’t we just fly in the Tornado? Where are we hiking?”

Sonic laughed, then immediately started coughing again. It was sounding rougher every time it happened, and Tails automatically reached to put a hand on his brother’s back. “M’fine,” Sonic reassured him, trying and failing to clear his throat. “There’s this one spot out in the mountains nearby with an awesome view at the top. The hike is an hour or so, and yeah I know we could just fly, but I thought it would be nice to catch some scenery in the woods along the way. Knux and Amy are coming along, is that okay?”

“That’s— it’s fine that they’re coming.” Tails paused, trying to sort through his immediate concerns. “Um… I just think…” With a quick breath, he went on, “Sonic, this has all been awesome and the hike does sound exciting, but… I really think you need to go home and rest.”

Sonic sighed, glaring at the ground for a moment, before dragging his gaze up to meet Tails’s with a frustratingly relaxed gleam. “How many times do I gotta say it today, I’m fine! Nothing can keep me down for long. I’ve been waiting to do all this with you for months; please just let me have this?”

His brother wasn’t as good with the puppy dog eyes as Tails was himself, but it somehow worked— for now. Tails groaned, conflicted still but not knowing how to convince the stubborn hedgehog that walking around all day and hiking entire mountains and spending all energy for the sake of birthday fun was not going to let him feel better. Especially if he refused to take any medicine.

“Okay, but—”

“Awesome!” Sonic didn’t let him finish. “I told the others to meet us at the parking lot in twenty minutes or so— whaddaya say we beat them to it?” He swallowed with a grimace as he finished speaking, then sniffled.

Tails stared at him regretfully. “Okay.”

They made it to the parking lot in under five minutes. Tails decided not to say anything about how much easier than usual it was to keep up with the speedy hedgehog, who didn’t seem to be purposefully moving as slowly as he was. As they reached the sparsely populated lot, Sonic stumbled over his feet and all but fell against someone’s car, struggling to catch his breath as he started coughing again, even harder than before.

“Sonic?” His worry ramping up a decent amount, Tails hurriedly dropped down beside him. “You alright?”

Sonic gave him a tired grin, even as his chest heaved for air. “Just catching my breath,” he wheezed.

Tails stiffened, looking at his brother with blank eyes as a haunting memory surfaced in his mind.

“Just catching my breath,” Sonic tried to assure him, even though he was near entirely covered in flickering, red and black cyber energy, had just been coughing, was clearly in pain. Tails stared at his own transparent, glitching hands, realizing he had no corporeal form and could do nothing to help his brother feel better.

And then he’d spent the next few days watching Sonic get sicker and sicker, watching him limp tiredly around instead of run with his trademark smile, watching him hold his arm and his hip and his head until he could barely walk. Tails had come back to his real, solid form, only to find Sonic paralyzed, unresponsive, all but dead, because he’d cared more for their lives and their comfort than for his own health.

This wasn’t the same, he reminded himself in the present; at least, it wasn’t as dire. This was just a bug. Just the flu. And it was just a birthday.

But Sonic was still rejecting his health in favor of making sure that someone he loved was having a good time.

Tails wasn’t sure how to articulate his feelings on that to him right now. So he chose to step closer and throw his arms around Sonic instead, holding him tightly.

Sonic paused for a moment, evidently taken aback, then silently hugged him back. Pressed up against him, Tails could hear and feel the raggedness in the hedgehog’s breathing, and feel the unnatural heat radiating off of him.

“Whoa, are we interrupting something?” a deeper voice called, and immediately Sonic pulled back as if nothing had happened.

“Brother stuff, Knux,” he told the echidna, as Tails fought his internal annoyance at missing his chance of actually convincing Sonic to go home and go to bed. “You wouldn’t get it.”

Knuckles eyed the hedgehog ruefully. “I think I would, somehow.”

Beside him, Amy laughed. “You guys ready for this?”

“The view won’t compare to Angel Island. But I suppose it’ll be nice in its own way.”

“The scenery on the way is supposed to be really cool, too,” Tails put in, remembering what Sonic had said earlier.

“It is!” Sonic agreed, then pointed to a sign by the woods nearby. “That’s the start of the trail. Let’s do this thing!” Without waiting for a response, he half-ran, half-stumbled off towards the aforementioned sign.

Tails just sighed, shook his head, and ambled after him. As he did, Amy headed closer to walk beside him.

“Is Sonic… sick? Or something?” she whispered, looking concerned after their friend ahead of them. “He seems off, somehow. And he sounds all raspy.”

“…Yeah,” Tails mumbled guiltily. “He’s been coming down with something all day. I’ve tried to talk him into going home and resting, but he won’t listen.”

“Sounds about right.” Amy groaned. “I’ll help you keep an eye on him while we walk. If he still won’t go home to sleep by the time we’re done the hike, I’ll just drag him there myself.”

Tails couldn’t help a laugh at the mental image. “Thanks, Amy.”

“Of course!” The pink hedgehog beamed at him. “Now then— how’s your birthday been going, mister ten-years-old already?”

“It’s been good otherwise!” He grinned. “For the first half of the day he just dragged me around town following a string to all sorts of gifts. I had to drop them all off at the lab, or else we wouldn’t have been able to do the hike.”

“Ooh! What’d you get so far?”

“Mm, a lot of computer parts, three new lego sets, a couple new video games, a skateboard, a weighted blanket, a box of mint tea—”

“Wow,” Amy cut in with a giggle. “I helped him do some of the shopping, but he really went all out, it sounds like.” Tails nodded with a soft smile. “I’ll never get over how much he just adores you. How much you both love each other,” she added, watching the fox kit’s eyes shift to check on the hedgehog ahead of them.

Sonic had paused beside a tree, leaning heavily against it, panting with eyes glazed over again. “Sonic?” Tails called, hurrying ahead to catch up with him.

“What?” Sonic jolted upright again, eyes brightening but not clearing as they passed over Tails. “I’m fiiine,” he drawled, and staggered back onto the trail. Knuckles grabbed him by the arm to keep him from tripping down the hill on the other side of the path.

Tails glanced back to exchange a look with Amy, then sighed and tried to stick closer to his brother. Knuckles glanced back and gestured questioningly at Sonic behind the hedgehog’s back at Tails, who mimed coughing into his fist in response. Knuckles rolled his eyes, then silently exhaled and nodded.

All of them were unfortunately familiar with the way their friend would put up a front for them. As Tails had earlier recalled, it hadn’t been too long since they’d seen this kind of thing with him.

It fooled none of them.

The farther they hiked, the more it became abundantly clear that Sonic was getting worse, and the more Tails and the others worried. The hedgehog couldn’t walk in a straight line to save his life, instead stumbling in a sort of zig zag pattern back and forth across the trail, giggling here and there. He’d gone from being pretty quiet and tired out in the first half to jabbering nonstop in the second half, except it was almost pure nonsense coming out of his mouth.

“Looook, Tails,” he snickered, pointing shakily at a flicky in a tree nearby. “Toldja dragons’r real.”

“Sonic, that’s a flicky. And we’re literally friends with dragons. Remember Trip?”

“Ah, yyyyeahh!” Sonic laughed way harder than he should’ve, breaking into yet another coughing fit. “Y’know, I could probably breathe fire too, with how on fire my lungs feel right now.”

He staggered on ahead and proceeded to trip over a tree root.

Tails shot an anxious glance at Amy, then leaned closer and whispered to her, “Would you mind heading back and bringing the Tornado out here? I’d do it myself but I don’t want to leave him. Once you get it here, I’ll bring him home.” He bit his lip. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay!” Amy whispered back. “You got it. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Amy wasn’t quite as skilled as he was with flying the Tornado, but he’d given her enough lessons that he felt confident at least trusting her to fly it out a short distance. It would be worth it, to be able to take Sonic back home with ease and make him get the care he so desperately needed, whether he wanted it or not.

“Where’d Amy gooo?” Sonic whined a few minutes after she’d hurried off.

“She’s just getting something for me,” Tails told him, patting his shoulder reassuringly, although he jumped at how hot to the touch his brother was.

“Izzit a surprise for youuu?” The hedgehog smiled deliriously. “Tha’s cool. Happy birthdaaayy!”

“Thank you, Sonic.”

“Yerrr welcome! Hey… did you dye your fur or somethin’? Ya look way more orange than usual.” He peered at Knuckles and his eyes blew open wide. “Whoaaa, you too!”

Tails facepalmed. “Dear Chaos, he’s even worse than I thought…”

Knuckles looked back and forth between them, having clearly never dealt with a person as sick as Sonic currently was. For Tails, it had been a while, but he’d definitely experienced things like this before. He’d known Sonic for most of his life, had seen him at his highs and his lows. He picked up his pace to match Sonic’s, and Knuckles dropped behind slightly.

“Sonic, you really need to rest,” he told him firmly.

Sonic giggled. “Yes, I’m a pest! Egghead agrees with that!”

Tails facepalmed. “That’s not even close to what I said.”

Abruptly, Sonic jumped and pointed excitedly at a patch of sunlight ahead in their path. Probably the end of the path, Tails figured, but instead of saying that, his brother exclaimed, “Look! A giant duckling!”

“…What?”

“Izzo cute.” Sonic all but dragged himself up to the patch of sunshine and fell over into the grass. “Can I keep ittt?”

“Uh.”

“Please? Hey Knucklehead, can I keep th’duckling?”

“There’s no duckling,” Knuckles said bluntly.

Looking genuinely disappointed, Sonic shoved himself back to his feet and staggered up to the boulder with the view, the end of the trail indeed. “Taaaiiilllss, canna buy a duckling?”

“Sonic—”

“Whoaaaa, lookit th’vieeww!”

He’d been right, the view here was spectacular. There was no shield from the wind up here; they’d passed above all the trees. They could see hawks soaring below them, and in the distance, they could see the town they’d been in earlier as nothing more than a silent, tiny setup of buildings with microscopic moving specks that they knew were people and cars. For a moment, Tails paused as he surveyed the view. It was fascinating to see something like this and not be flying somehow.

Sonic was grinning in absolute delirium as he whirled sideways to see them, eyes half-closed. “See, wasn’t it worth it…” He frowned suddenly, stumbled, then started swaying. “Whoa.”

“Sonic?!” Fueled by panic and adrenaline, Tails realized what was happening, and lunged to grab the hedgehog by the wrist right before he keeled over— nearly off the edge of the cliff. Panting in suppressed fear, he pulled Sonic back up onto the boulder and sank to his knees, all but cradling his brother as he lay there, barely conscious.

“No more excuses. You’re burning up,” he said, hugging him close to calm his racing heart. “I sent Amy to bring the Tornado. I’m taking you home as soon as she gets here.”

Sonic blinked blearily up at him, then groaned and mumbled, “…Okay.”

Tails blew out a breath. “Good.”

“Jus’ one thing…”

“What’s that?”

“Can I still get a duckling.”

“…I’ll buy you one when it’s your birthday. Now stop talking and rest.”

Sonic grinned wearily, closing his eyes and resting his head down against Tails’s chest fluff. “Okay.”

—

Amy arrived shortly afterwards, and Tails carried his feverish brother up to the Tornado as it circled around them. He set him down in the seat behind the cockpit, then he and Amy switched out as Amy leapt back down to the boulder.

“We’ll head back on our own,” Knuckles called, waving to them. “Go on ahead.”

Tails waved back in acknowledgment, then set the course for the quick flight back to the workshop, barely a minute’s trip.

He thought he heard Sonic mumbling something behind him, but it was difficult to hear him over the wind. He hit a button to bring the overhead windshield over the seats (a feature he usually reserved for rainy days), and said, “What was that?”

“I’m sorry.” Sonic was slumped sideways in his seat, staring sullenly out the window.

Tails frowned as he returned his gaze to the path ahead. “Why are you sorry? You didn’t—”

“I wanted to give you a perfect birthday. After everything.” It was probably due to the sickness, but Sonic sounded downright miserable. “And I ruined it.”

Tails sighed. “You didn’t ruin anything. No one can control when they get sick. It was still a great birthday, Sonic.” He twisted around again and smiled, making sure Sonic saw him before he turned back towards the front. “Thank you.”

Sonic hummed a little in response, but said nothing.

—

They set down at the workshop, and Tails opted to leave the Tornado in the runway for a while so he could take Sonic straight inside and set to doing what he’d wanted to do all day: just taking care of him.

He settled him comfortably on the couch, brought him a couple blankets, made some soup, and brought him some orange juice and a couple slices of bread. After he’d eaten, Tails gave him some of the medicine he’d gotten from Espio earlier. Sonic still seemed kind of depressed, but he was looking a little better, at least, now that he was finally getting to rest.

As he nibbled on the bread, Tails sat down with him and handed him the orange juice glass. “You know,” he said slowly, beginning to smile, “I think I prefer this gift over the others.”

Sonic blinked at him as he accepted the glass carefully and took a tentative sip. “What… which… I haven’t gotten you anything since we got back.”

“Just…” Tails shook his head and smiled, then reached out and rubbed his head between his ears, like Sonic always did to him. “Just this. Being together. You letting me take care of you. I always like that.” Sonic stared back at him in surprise as he spoke. “You have no clue how much this means to me. How much I’ve wanted to do this, basically all day.”

The hedgehog sighed, but smiled back. “Sorry it took all this for us to properly hang out.” He shifted. “Although, as nice as this is… I’m not sure if you really wanna be this close. I might get you sick.”

In response, Tails scooted closer and hugged him tight. “I’ll take my chances.”

Sonic was still tense. “It’s on you if you do get sick,” he warned, although his tone was hardly serious and didn’t match with his affectionate grin.

“I know. Just shush it and let me hug you.”

“…Alright. You win this round, bud.”

💛-----------------the end-----------------💙

tagging, as requested, @star-stages and @yogacatdeskknit

[starryhyuck]

just like magic. (m)

pairing: fuckboy!jaehyun x fuckgirl!reader

words: 4k+

summary: jung jaehyun’s body count is almost as high as yours. however, after yuta spreads a nasty rumor, you learn that jaehyun’s always imagined those girls to be you instead.

genre: fluff, smut

warnings: multiple sex partners, public sex, sex on the roof, multiple orgasms, degradation, wall sex, creampie

Your head rests on the bathroom mirror, inhaling and exhaling loudly as Mingyu finds a wipe to clean you up.

“Ugh. I can’t believe we did it in Bambam’s gross bathroom.”

Mingyu chuckles, the deep sound echoing in the small space. “Please. Don’t act like you’re so disgusted now.” You roll your eyes at his comment while he cleans the cum smeared on the inside of your thighs. “Besides, it’s not like you were having fun at the party anyways.”

You shrug and jump down from the sink, straightening out your skirt and trying to look somewhat presentable.

“True,” you murmur, fixing your hair in the mirror. “Jungkook couldn’t come tonight so it was way easier to find you.”

He scoffs. “As if Jungkook could fuck you better than me.”

You laugh and find the lipgloss sitting at the bottom of your bag. “Oh, he can. He’s not a little gym rat for nothing, you know.”

Mingyu huffs, leaning down to pull your panties back up and straightening your skirt. This scene isn’t unfamiliar to the both of you, although doing it in Bambam’s bathroom certainly was. You’re pretty sure Bambam smoked a shit ton of weed before his party started, and Mingyu opens the bathroom window to release some of the odor.

“See you in 104. Did you finish the extra credit paper already?”

You shook your head, opening the bathroom door and hearing the lively party continue downstairs.

“Nope, not planning to,” you give him one last kiss on the cheek. “Nice fuck, Gyu. Tell Jungkook to show up next time.”

He rolls his eyes again and you two depart, almost toppling over as you bump into Jung Jaehyun on the stairs. His arm quickly slides around your waist to prevent you from falling. He smiles at you.

“How was Mingyu?”

“How was Jennie?”

He chuckles. “Good. As always. You really have to start expanding your little black book. Mingyu and Jungkook aren’t always going to be around, you know.”

You raise an eyebrow and step away from him, shooing his arm away from you. “You don’t think I have backups, silly? Doyoung is at my beck and call, I assure you.”

He smirks, raising his red solo cup to you. “If you ever need me.”

You dismiss him, walking down the stairway of Bambam and Yugyeom’s place. You and Jaehyun had always been similar in many ways, especially in the way you ‘connect’ with other people. If you two ever had a body count competition, it would surely have Johnny’s head spinning all night at the numbers. You never fucked Jaehyun, however, simply because you had no desire to. You’ve known Jaehyun for as long as you’ve known Mingyu, but the only personality trait you’ve ever deducted from Jaehyun was that he’s excellent in bed.

That, and the fact that during your first year of college, Yuta spread some rumor that Jaehyun masturbates to the thought of you.

No big deal.

You find Minghao and Sicheng speaking in the kitchen, and you whine when you clutch Minghao’s arm.

“I’m tired, Hao.”

“You leave us to go fuck Mingyu for a hour and now you want to go home?”

You can hear the condescending tone in Minghao’s voice and you do your best to ignore it. You offer him your best toothy grin. “Come on, designated driver. You’re not even doing anything remotely fun!”

“Hey!” Sicheng interjects. “We were actually just talking.”

You lean over to pinch his cheeks and Sicheng nearly growls at you.

“You’re cute, but you and Minghao talk all the time. Nothing new. Plus, all of us are roommates, dumbass! We could talk at home any time we want to.”

“Fine, fine,” Minghao concedes, laying his cup down on the kitchen counter. You ignore the fact that Yugyeom’s tongue is shoved down some girl’s throat only five feet away from all of you. “Did you already clean yourself up? I don’t want any of Mingyu’s germs in my car.”

“Are we sure it was Mingyu?” Sicheng counters. “It could’ve been Jungkook or Doyoung or Wonwoo or Jinyoung or-“

“Alright, alright,” you glare at him. “And yes, it was Mingyu. He already cleaned me up so you won’t get any Gyu germs.”

“Good.”

Minghao still has trouble trusting you after that one time you wore a skirt with no panties and let Kun’s cum spill all over Minghao’s front seat. Sicheng is still extremely traumatized from the situation.

You exit the house party with your roommates, almost stopping at the sight of Kunhang looking like a fucking dream near the speakers-

“Come on, you horny asshole,” Sicheng grunts, pushing you out the door.

—

“Did you hear the news?”

Your eyes flutter at the sight of Nakamoto Yuta, who is leaning over your desk, smiling. You sigh and decide to entertain him.

“What is it now, Yuta?”

“A little birdy told me that a certain Jung Jaehyun has fallen for Mingyu’s girl,” Yuta’s smirk widens when you furrow your eyebrows.

“Mingyu has a girlfriend?”

He huffs. “You, dumbass.”

You giggle at the thought of dating Mingyu and roll your eyes. “You’re full of shit, Nakamoto.”

He stands straight, his figure towering over you. You peek your head out to see if the lecture has started yet so Yuta can get the fuck away from you.

“Then why did I hear Jaehyun calling your name when he was getting his dick wet this morning?”

The accusation has your eyebrows raising. You barely know Jaehyun, only from fleeting stories from Mingyu and Jungkook. You also know that Yuta’s always full of shit, spreading rumors about various people just because he can.

“Get your head out of your ass, Yuta.”

He laughs at your dismissive nature, leaning in again. There’s a troublesome glint in his eyes.

“And what if I told you Mingyu said Jaehyun’s loved you since you were five?”

You challenge him. “I would say that the cum in Miyeon’s panties say otherwise.”

He smiles and steps back when the professor finally enters the room.

“Whatever you want to believe.”

That conversation with Yuta was three years ago. He’s graduated long since, but the rumor about Jaehyun still pops up here and there. Jaehyun never addressed it with you, and when you asked Mingyu about it once, he just laughed.

“A lot of guys on campus jack off to the thought of you. Are you surprised?”

You think about the memory as you watch Soojin straddle Jaehyun, her hair falling over the side of her face as she leans in to kiss him. The rest of the party ignores them, mainly focused on how Bambam is nearly toppling over trying to do a keg stand.

A hand slides around your waist and you feel someone’s lips attach to your neck.

“Gyu told me you were looking for me the other day,” Jungkook murmurs lowly in your ear. “Did you miss me?”

You smile when you feel his fingers inch closer to your breast, hands roaming all over your body.

“Yes. Your absence made me fuck Mingyu in Bambam’s germ-covered bathroom.”

He chuckles lowly, and the sound shoots straight to your core.

“I’m here now, baby. I’ll take care of you.”

Your eyes drift upwards again, startled to find Jaehyun already gazing at you. Soojin’s sucking at his neck, but his eyes are locked on you, watching the way Jungkook paws at your breast.

Yuta’s voice rings in your ears. Jaehyun’s loved you since you were five.

You push the thought away as Jungkook’s mouth envelops yours. Jaehyun couldn’t love you, Yuta was just full of shit.

—

“You’re late.”

You narrow your eyes at Mingyu, who brushes off the time. He promised to meet up with you yesterday to finish your project for 104 and give you a quick lunch time fuck. You’re a little disheartened to see he’s tugged Doyoung and Jaehyun along.

“Don’t be so upset, frowning doesn’t look good on you,” Mingyu teases, sliding in the chair across from you. Doyoung sits next to him, and Jaehyun awkwardly takes the spot next to you. “We were just playing a little basketball outside. The time slipped my mind.”

“Well, I guess it slips my mind that I’m supposed to fuck you before your next class.”

Doyoung laughs and seizes the opportunity. “I, on the other hand, never promised anything and my schedule is conveniently free for the whole day.” He winks at you, his gums showing brightly as he smiles.

You smirk when Mingyu elbows him in the side. Jaehyun is oddly quiet and you turn to face him while Mingyu hisses at Doyoung.

“I saw you and Soojin getting it on last weekend. How was it?”

He smiles tightly. “Good, as always. Jungkook per usual?”

You nod. “The little gym rat won’t stop exercising. He was talking to me about his routine all night. I almost just got myself off instead.”

Something flickers in Jaehyun’s gaze, and it’s gone so quickly that you might’ve missed it.

“I can’t imagine why that would be preferred, especially when you have most of the male population lining up to get a taste of you.”

There’s a hidden implication in his words, and you take the chance.

“Are you part of that male population?”

He smirks at your question. Before he has a chance to answer, Mingyu’s voice fills your ears again.

“Anyways, my dorm is free and I can afford to miss my next class. Wanna head up? Promise I’ll go down on you as an apology.”

You scoff at Mingyu’s half-assed proposal, and stand to leave. “I’ll pass. Get a watch next time if you want your dick wet. I’m assuming you’re going to finish most of our project since I was waiting here for over a hour.”

Mingyu frowns. “But-“

“But?” You say, raising an eyebrow.

His shoulders slump. “Fine. I’ll finish the damn project.”

You lean over to pinch his cheeks. “Good Mingyu. I’ll see all of you at Minghao’s birthday bash.”

You depart without another word, ignoring the burn of Jaehyun’s stare. When you arrive back to your apartment, Minghao is organizing his wine cabinet while Sicheng talks to Tzuyu at the kitchen counter. You sigh and throw your bag across the island.

“Boys are dumb.”

Tzuyu laughs. “Did Mingyu forget what time it is again?”

“As always,” you confirm, searching for anything consumable in your fridge. As expected, no one’s gone grocery shopping in a week. Guess you’ll have to raid Wonwoo’s apartment tonight.

Sicheng huffs. “Good. I don’t need you getting any more Mingyu germs before Minghao’s party tomorrow.”

“And what does Hao’s party have anything to do with me getting laid?” Sicheng rolls his eyes at your question, and you smile sweetly at him. You decide to favor the leftover pieces of ham sitting at the back of the fridge. “Tzuyu, back me up here. Didn’t you have a good time with Jaehyun two weeks ago?”

Tzuyu’s cheeks flush as she recalls what you’re referring to. At Jungwoo’s party, she and Jaehyun were practically fucking each other in the middle of the living room.

“I guess. He was weird about some things.”

You frown, removing the lid off of the container and shoving a piece of ham in your mouth. “Like what?”

She looks embarrassed to be talking about such intimate things in front of Sicheng, but your roommate is unbothered. He’s heard enough of your escapades to be unfazed by any mentions of sex.

“He didn’t want to look at me when we did it. He told me I had to face the pillow or else he couldn’t cum that way.”

You shrug. “So he likes it from behind. Nothing too weird about that. Which way do you prefer, Sicheng?”

He glares at you. “None of your business.”

You giggle at how cute he is before Tzuyu continues. “I mean, it wasn’t just that. He didn’t really like it when I made noises. I had to be as quiet as possible.”

“Ugh, that’s fucked. Guys can grunt in the nastiest ways possible but they hate it when we make an ounce of noise. I hope you’re not that way, Sicheng.”

His glare burns. “None. Of. Your. Business.”

“Yeah, it was weird. He’s really good in bed though.”

You chuckle. “I would hope so. Anyways, who’s on the guest list for tomorrow night?”

Sicheng sighs, and you wonder if he thinks about moving out and living with a less horny roommate.

“Basically anyone you’ve fucked before since you’ve slept with all of Hao’s friends.”

You frown. “That’s not fun. I like someone new once in a while.”

“No funny business at Minghao’s party, I mean it. We can’t be cutting his cake while you’re getting railed in your room.”

You boop his nose. “No promises.”

—

Sicheng’s done this on purpose.

All of the men at Minghao’s party have flocked away from you, like Sicheng sent them all a mass text before the party started or something. You tried to slide up to Mingyu but then he was quickly taking the offer to do body shots with someone else. It’s as if you would bite all their dicks off with the way they’re running from you.

It’s the middle of the party when you grow tired of hearing Jieqiong’s banter with Jun.

You step out of the apartment for a few minutes and head up to the roof, arms wrapping around yourself to shield from the cold. You know you should’ve went to Wonwoo yesterday, especially since Sicheng has apparently made it a no fuck zone for tonight.

You jump when you feel a jacket moving over your shoulders. You’re even more startled to see Jaehyun next to you.

“Oh, hey. When did you get here?”

He smiles, and it hurts your eyes a little by how pretty he is.

“About a hour ago. I’m not surprised you didn’t notice, considering I could feel your rage from five feet away.”

You laugh dryly. “Did Sicheng send you a text too?”

“No, but Mingyu told me about it. I assume he only sent it to the guys you’ve slept with before.”

You nod. “Yeah, probably. I’m off limits to all males tonight.”

The two of you stand together in silence, gazing out at the view of your city. You’ve never felt an urge to get an answer from Jaehyun before about Yuta’s rumor, but now that he’s here, it’s all you can think about.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Why didn’t you say anything about the rumor Yuta spread around in freshman year?”

His back stiffens. The seconds pass in a deafening thump, and you’re starting to feel like you shouldn’t have brought it up.

He finally sighs. “How long have we known each other?”

You blink. Did he really have to respond to a question with another question?

You think back to when you first met Jaehyun and Mingyu. You were only five then, and you screamed in the middle of the classroom because Mingyu had spilled paint all over the front of your shirt. You remember Jaehyun handing you a wipe to clean yourself up, ears bright red.

You grin at the memory. “Since I found out Mingyu was the clumsiest kid on earth.”

He chuckles. “You never really saw it, did you?”

“Saw what?”

You’re even more confused by Jaehyun’s vague ass answers. He averts his gaze from you, and you suddenly feel a lot colder on this rooftop.

“How much I liked you.”

The statement causes you to freeze. So Yuta was right - Jung Jaehyun has loved you since you were five. Still, it doesn’t make any sense. You’ve been fucking Mingyu since high school and Jaehyun never seemed bothered by it, considering he and Mingyu were still best friends. In fact, you’ve been in bed with most of his friend group and he’s never said a word about it. His friends never even mention his liking for you, so you have to assume that they don’t know of it either.

As if he could sense your rampant thoughts running wild, he squashes them.

“I thought you loved Mingyu. I thought that when the two of you first started sleeping together, it would develop into something more. It’s why I never said anything to him. He knew, but I’m sure he thought I didn’t mind.”

You’re baffled. You don’t even know how to respond to this newfound information. Maybe you should’ve stayed downstairs at the party.

“Mingyu is an asshole,” you finally conclude. Jaehyun’s shoulders relax when you speak. “And so am I. I swear, I didn’t know, Jaehyun. I would’ve-“

“You would’ve stopped seeing Mingyu? And Jungkook? And Doyoung, and Wonwoo, and-“

“Okay, okay,” you raise a hand up to stop him before glaring. “You’re not entirely innocent either. I’m friends with most of the girls you’ve slept with too.”

His eyes darken. “And have you asked them what it’s like to be with me? How I have to turn them over and imagine it’s you before I can get hard? How I have to keep them quiet because their moans are too loud or simply because it doesn’t sound like you?” How-“

“Jaehyun,” you whisper, feeling like the wind has gotten knocked out of your chest. You’re also trying to ignore the wetness that’s pooled in your underwear. “Are you saying-“

“I’m saying that I’ve been running circles around you since we were five and you’ve never noticed. I’ve had to hear countless nights of Mingyu and Jungkook talking about how sweet your pussy is when they slide into you. How pretty you are when you’re stuffing their cocks far down your throat. How you let them take you anywhere, any time, because you enjoy it as much as they do.”

You swallow. He’s inches away from you now, hands dancing around your waist carefully. You quickly check the time.

One hour before Minghao cuts his cake. That should be enough.

You grab the fabric of Jaehyun’s shirt, pulling him to you as his lips crash into yours. He grunts, gripping your sides and pressing you against the railing. Your eyes glance down briefly to see how high up you two are.

“Drop me and I’ll kill you.”

He laughs, chasing you again and quickly moving to undress you. You ignore the goosebumps rising on your arms when Jaehyun nips at your neck, fingers dipping into your panties. “So pretty,” he murmurs, licking a stripe across your collarbones. You moan when he slides a finger into your heat. “That’s it, baby. Sound so fucking good.”

He slips another finger in, basking in the glory of your moans. “We have to hurry,” you mumble breathily. “Sicheng will come looking if he knows I’m gone for too long. It’s like he can sense when I’m fucking someone.”

Jaehyun laughs, moving back up to kiss you. “He can watch if he wants to then.”

“I wanna-“ you gasp when he curls his fingers. “I wanna suck you off.”

“Fuck,” he hisses. He’s fingering you faster now, and you can hear the squelch of your wetness fill the air. You gasp, desperately holding onto his forearm. “I’ll fuck your mouth next time, I promise. I need to see you cum now.”

You unravel in no time, moaning loudly as you fall apart on Jaehyun’s fingers. He coaxes you through your orgasm, murmuring praises in your ear. You whimper when he pulls away from you, licking up the remaining essence on his fingers.

“Jaehyun,” you say frantically, pawing at him. “I need you inside me.”

You turn over so that your back is facing him, and you think he’s about to slide your underwear down but instead, he swivels you around.

“Need to see you,” he whispers. “Jump.”

You do as he says, wrapping your legs around his waist and kissing him with much more fervor. You moan when his hands grip your sides roughly, pressing you against the concrete. You sit on the ledge of the rooftop, trying to ignore the genuine fear of falling.

He’s quickly shoving his jeans down his thighs and you whimper.

“Hurry, Jae.”

“Fuck, baby. I’m here, I’m right here,” he hisses, pulling out his cock and giving it a few strokes. Your eyes widen at the size — he was surely bigger and thicker than Mingyu or Jungkook. He chuckles at your stare, as if he knows exactly what you’re thinking. “Bigger than what you normally have?”

You narrow your eyes. “Don’t tell me you idiots had a dick measuring contest.”

He shrugs. “Maybe.”

Then, he’s pushing your panties to the side and sliding into you. You gasp, his fingers roughly gripping you in place to make sure you don’t fall. He doesn’t wait for you to adjust, thrusting rapidly as soon as he feels you.

“Good little slut,” he grunts. “So pretty and pliant for me. Is my cock too big for you to take, baby?”

“You’re gonna fucking,” you pant, whining when his cock hits you deeper. “You’re gonna fucking split me in half, asshole.”

He grins mischievously. “That’s the goal.”

You’re so lost in the feeling of him that the both of you fail to hear the door to the rooftop open. You’re startled when Sicheng’s voice booms in the air.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me! We haven’t even cut the cake yet!”

“Sicheng, I-“ you shamelessly whimper when Jaehyun hits your sweet spot, not slowing down in the slightest despite Sicheng watching. “W-We’ll be d-down before Hao c-cuts the cake.”

“Horny assholes,” you hear your roommate mutter before the door to the rooftop is closing again.

Jaehyun chortles. “He should’ve sent that text to me too if he was so concerned.”

“Fuck him,” you groan. “And fuck me harder.”

He listens to your command, pushing into you so deep that you almost fall off the ledge. You scream as your upper body dangles off the rooftop, but you can hear Jaehyun’s giggle. Your fear is overtaken by arousal when you realize his cock is hitting you deeper in this position.

“Cum, cum,” you whisper. “I’m cumming.”

He groans when you tighten around him, convulsing around his cock. When you recover, he’s hoisting you back up, bringing your chest to his as he carries you. You have no idea where he’s going, but with every step, his cock slides deeper into your soaking cunt.

The door to the rooftop is opening again and you realize you’re in the stairwell.

“Get down, hands on the railing.”

You shakily follow his command, ignoring the wobble of your legs as you grip the metal bars. He’s pushing into you again before you can take a breath.

“I-I thought you needed to see me,” you say, your back turned to him.

“You’re right.”

Then, he’s pushing you against the wall with force and abusing your pussy. You practically scream, clawing at his back while he pounds you into the wall.

“Do you want to know exactly what Yuta heard three years ago?” He groans against your neck. You can barely form coherent sentences, and you’re pretty sure you had another orgasm that you haven’t even revived from. “He heard me desperately fucking my cock into my hand, whimpering your name. All I could imagine that day was the little short dress you wore to Yugyeom’s party, and how Jungkook’s hands were all over you as soon as you stepped through the door. I fucking came so hard that I had to wash my sheets before Mingyu came back to the dorm.”

“Jaehyun, Jaehyun,” you whisper frantically. You’re unraveling again — cumming around his cock while he fucks you hard. “Cum with me. Inside, cum inside. Please, please.”

He grunts lowly. “Yeah? You want my cum? What about the rest of them — how many of them have spilled inside you?”

“I’ll keep it in,” you promise him, just wanting your hole to be filled. “I’ll walk around Hao’s party with your cum dripping down my thighs. How does that sound?”

And he’s groaning, giving one final thrust before he empties inside of you. You gasp at how much cum he has to give you, some of it spilling down your lips and onto the floor.

The both of you are panting lowly, trying to recover from your orgasms. You faintly hear a chorus of people singing Happy Birthday two floors down.

“Fuck, Sicheng’s gonna kill us.”

[bibbykins]

Cookies and Fingertips (M)

Some Jimin loving! We love to see it! I hope you all enjoy this installation as I try to figure out how to properly flesh out characters in a drabble series. Am not sure how I’m doing there but I hope you all enjoy it nonetheless. As always, tips are not required but greatly appreciated, just like your thoughts! Pls share your thoughts though, they brighten my day!

Note: This is part of a drabble series The Household’s Bunny

Summary: You and Jimin met long before you moved in, and yet, you’re not sure if he even likes you. So what else is there to do but take every opportunity to talk to him until you figure it out? 

Jimin has had a debilitating crush on you long before you moved in and he is almost positive there is no way you’d feel the same. And yet, he doesn’t have the strength to properly avoid you.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: 18+, soft yandere-ish, obsessive thoughts, possessive thoughts, fingering, handjob, subspace, cum eating (sorta?), discussion of hospitalization, mentions of a stalker, mentions of passing out, the word “fat” is used, a moment of thigh riding, surprise kiss, insecurity

Jimin looked across the courtyard as his eyes remained fixated on your form. You were a simple second year in college and he was just a breath away from graduating. He first laid eyes on you a mere year ago and he can't remember what life was truly like before you smiled at him. You both had only ever exchanged pleasantries, so he opted to wait for the right time to make his move.

“That’s not true.” Your voice snapped Jimin from his staring contest with the PowerPoint slides, “That’s an antiquated idea, not a proven theory.” He looked to you, a couple rows down. You were plump and cute to say the least. He recognized you from a few of his courses. He had heard you were a double major in Art and… damn, what was the other?

The man you had rebutted had his face turning red, “It is proven, it was studied in 1973 with significant results yielded.” Jimin had no idea what you both were debating but he watched a sea of student nod in agreeance with you, some with the guy. What class was he even in? He looked at the PowerPoint slides, reading them for the first time today. Ah, he was in his psych of gender class. Maybe you were a psych major.

“In 1973, with no women in the participant pool, are you not seeing the issue in making a multi-gendered generalization whilst utilizing one genders perspective, a perspective that is also quite dated, mind you?” You cocked a brow and Jimin found himself a bit amused at the man who scoffed.

“You learn those words in high school two months ago?” He snapped back and Jimin grimaced along with most of the lecture hall. 

“What? You need me to define them?” You quipped, eliciting some laughter as the professor regrouped.

“Ah, educational discourse.” The professor joked lightly as Jimin’s eyes remained fixed on you as you noticed a few lingering gazes on you, shrinking in your seat.

He saw you in the lunch hall, sitting alone, not uncommon for anyone in college, except your eyes were a bit puffy. Before he could even question the urge, he acted. Within a few steps, he was at your table and you looked up in confusion, “Uh, hi?” You meekly spoke and Jimin realized he had no plan.

“U-Uh, you… uh… do you like the cookies?” He forced out and immediately wished he could disappear.

You looked down at the cookie on your plate, “Uh, yes? Is-Is this a fat joke or do you actually want to know?” You asked cautiously.

Jimin’s eyes widened, “No, I mean yes, I mean no, I would never make fun of your weight.” He squeezed his eyes and sighed, not able to see your growing smile at his mental turmoil, “I have psych of gender with you and people rarely talk in that class so I thought you were pretty cool.” He smiled and he noticed you relax.

You nodded, smiling slightly, “Ah, I see. Thank you.” You beamed and it was like he felt the warmth from you, “I don’t do super well with attention but I also have poor impulse control.” You chuckled and he finally understood why you had cried and his heart strings were tugged a bit, “And yes, the cookies are good.” You split one in half and offered it to him.

Life goes by a lot quicker when one waits for the perfect opportunity. This much he found out quickly when he found himself a year later, looking across the courtyard at you, this time as your TA. He tried dating to get the daunting idea of talking to you after that singular interaction in which he forgot to give you his name from his mind to no avail. No matter, surely this would be the year.

”Jiminie is so hot!” Jimin continued to pretend not to hear his ex, Yoora, whine in your ear as he observed the intro to modern dance class.

You looked to her thoughtfully as you stretched, “You mean the TA, that is not that far away?” Your voice was lowered, but he could still hear you. He found himself listening closer, wondering if you remembered the singular interaction you both had. Yoora nodded in the corner of his eye.

“Yep.” She affirmed, “We dated, it was magical, and he’s still hot.” She mused and Jimin grimaced a bit, feeling bad he dated a girl that seemed to be a decent friend of yours, “Do you know him?”

Jimin perked up a bit, “We talked once, seems nice, is obviously hot.” You shrugged, “I doubt he remembers me, though.” You leaned down to reach past your left foot as Yoora urged you on with her eyes, “I had gotten into a weird debate with this one dude in a class we had and he saw me after, and I had just cried because I hate arguing and stares.” You and Yoora laughed a bit, “Then, he just came up to me and asked if I liked the cookies I were eating, and I wasn’t sure if he was calling me fat at first.” Yoora gasped and Jimin felt pain just thinking about the awkwardness, “He wasn’t, and he got cutely flustered when I asked and then I gave him half of my cookie and that’s all.” You moved to your other leg, “And then he never talked to me again.” You laughed and Jimin wanted the floor to swallow him.

Another year goes by. The day before he was going to try and ask you out, you were hospitalized. He didn't know how to even approach the topic with you, but he did try to be there for you throughout that year. The professor he was TA for insisted Jimin also utilize his emails, so all throughout your brief stay in medical care, it was him who received your bubbly emails. The emails full of little emoticons and exclamation points that made him giddy and took him hours to conceptualize a response to. Although you didn't know it was him giving you extensions and safe regards, he still meant it. 

He was practicing when he got the email, 

“Attention students, 

We have received knowledge of an incident that has resulted in the hospitalization of a student that occurred within an apartment close to campus. Proper authorities have been notified and the student is recovering well. Please remain safe and vigilant.” 

His face twisted in confusion when he got a text from the professor he was TA for that you were the student in question.

Throughout the semester, Jimin watched you with careful eyes as you slowly acclimated back to yourself. He wondered how he could have been so blinded by your smile that he couldn't properly see your eye bags or the way you looked over your shoulder when you thought no one was looking at you, or how he couldn't see he wasn't the only one looking at you. 

When you returned, he watched your eyes relax and your guard go down again. He just wished he could've been there to help you get there. He trudged home one day and found you, and then his whole world was flipped by you again.

Since moving in, he found himself way more advanced with you than he ever imagined. You would plop next to him on the couch and give him a smile, "How was your day, Jiminie?" You beamed at him each time and he nearly choked on his spit each time.

He would mumble an answer and you would hum before watching TV with him, a show he deliberately put on each time he heard you come home. Eventually, you began watching competition shows together, theorizing who would win what. It was comfortable and close, and he found himself falling for you even harder.

"Do you wanna have lunch together?" Your voice pulled him from his thoughts in the practice room he had on his floor in the building. He had agreed to help with your final. The only time he could talk to you without it being a mental nightmare was when it was about dancing. The only time he could initiate contact was in this studio. 

The studio gave him a certain air of confidence that even you could see. He wasn't a different person, more so multi-faceted. There was the shy and bumbling part of Jimin just as much as there was the sharp-eyed and focused Jimin. Not to mention the way his fingers would dance on your form as he gave you pointers made you unreasonably aroused.

Even so, determined to challenge himself, he nodded, "Lead the way." His voice was smooth even after two straight hours of practice and you wondered how he could look so hot work out clothes.

You both decided to pick up food and eat it at the studio. You sat across from each other as you ate in polite conversation. It was after you both picked up the food and sat on the floor you spoke up again, "You know, Jiminie." You started, eyes shyly fixated on the floor, "I wanted to thank you for not telling the guys about my, uh, incident a year ago." You finally looked him in the eyes, a soft smile on your face, "Not that it's a huge secret, especially on campus, but I just prefer to tell people myself." You mused.

He blinked, surprised you would thank him for something like that, "O-Of course, I mean, a lot of rumors were going around anyways, so even if I did want to tell them, I doubt I have only the facts." He shrugged, "It's not anyone else's business regardless."

You stifled a little giggle, "Yeah, some of the stories got a bit crazy." You sighed a bit, "From a stalker attacking me to me passing out in the middle of the street." Jimin looked up at you. You didn’t meet his gaze, most likely reliving the aftermath of the whole campus finding out you were hospitalized and are a cam girl in the same week. Not that you were ever hiding you job, but you just wished you could tell people on your own terms.

"Yeah, some crazy things get told in the Arts department." He murmured, "I only knew most of the facts because your TA for Professor Lee's class."

It was your turn to look up, but instead of confusion he saw a polite smile, "I know, silly." You chuckled and when you saw his confused face you looked at him incredulously, "Come on, you're Park Jimin! Of course I'm gonna know the 'hottest dance major'" You fake gushed and he finally broke a laugh, making you giddy. 

"Of all things to know me by." He shook his head, smile still present.

You studied his face as his eyes scrunched and cheeks lifted, making you smile as well, "I've never made you smile before and your smile is so pretty." You mused, "I need to step up my comedy game."

"You've never seen me smile?" He looked surprised at this, considering he always smiled like an idiot when he stared longingly at you.

"I mean, sort of, but not to this degree." You shook your head, "I was starting to think you didn't like me for a while." 

His eyes widened at this and he panicked, "No, no! I do like you, a lot!" He exclaimed, much to your amusement and to his dismay. You watched him get red with a grin.

He stammered, staring at his fork before he heard your melodious laugh. He looked up and his face softened at the sight of your smile, "You're too cute, Jiminie." You reached forward and pinched his cheek, making his breath hitch. Your cooing tone made something click inside him. He didn't want to be just cute to you, he wanted to be more than any adjective, he wanted to be yours.

He reached up, hand going to wrap around your wrist loosely, "I was the hottest a second ago and now I'm just cute?" A glint of confidence shown in his eye as he made you gulp, "Is that all you think of me, y/n?" Your own name coming from his mouth sent a shiver down your spine and a beat to your core.

You were in a trance while being eyed by the man with a vastly different energy than he had just moments ago. You shook your head lightly, "I think you're beautiful." He cocked a brow and you scrambled for more words, "I had a huge crush on you from the moment I gave you half of my cookie." You breathed before even thinking, snapping you back to reality as you watched his eyes widen, "Ah, me and my mouth!" You admonished yourself, "I didn't mean to make you uncomf-" You frantically moved to take your hand back only for his grip to tighten, pulling you forward, placing your hand at the nape of his neck while his arm wrapped around your waist.

You gulped at the newfound closeness, bodies nearly pressing against each other as he eyed you sharply, "Do you mean it?" He breathed, "You had a crush on me?" You made a move to slink away, but you he gracefully laid himself down with you on top of him, his thigh mere centimeters from your core and he gave you a mischievous smile, "Don't leave me hanging." He teased.

"I-I mean… yes, but can-"

He cut you off with a sigh and a laugh. You braced yourself for him to laugh at you, and say how weird it would be had you confessed and how weird the idea of you two together would be.

It's a song and dance you've seen many times as a hopeless romantic chubby girl. Of course, now you know you were just too much woman for such little men, emotionally little at the very least, but you would be a liar if you didn't still feel the hurt of humiliation. The last thing you wanted was to look into Jimin's eyes and find the same pitying glint, but you were nothing if not a bit brave, at least sometimes.

You forced your eyes from his chest to his gaze and found… an emotion you've only every seen in the eyes of your housemates, an emotion you don't quite know yet, even if you felt it too. At your curiosity, Jimin beamed at you further, "I'd be really frustrated right now if you weren’t on top of me." He chuckled a bit and explained further before you could ask why, "I have had such a huge crush on you for years now." You balk at this, shaking you head.

"That's not a funny joke, Jiminie." You huffed, "If I were even a bit more gullible, I would seriously believe you and then my feelings would be hurt-" He pulled you flush against him as he captured your mouth in a soft and sweet kiss. He was slow, but focused, in the way his mouth moved against yours.

Inside, though, Jimin was freaking out. What if you didn't actually want to kiss him? Why didn't he ask beforehand? Should he pull away? But your mouth feels so good. Are you kissing him back or is he just that enthusiastic?

You laid his worries to rest when you used the hand at his nape to pull him closer, mouth opening to nibble on his bottom lip. He groaned lightly, pulling you closer as his tongue mingled with your own and he pressed his thigh into the thin material of your leggings. You gasped at this and it was like a fire lit within him as he sat up and shifted you for your legs to be on both sides of him as he pressed his mouth onto yours further.

His fingertips danced along your form in a much different context than you were used to, but fuck, did it feel nice. Where one arm was securely holding your waist, his hand reached beneath your shirt, getting accustomed to the soft skin as he waited for you to nod. You wanted him to touch you further. You didn't understand what all these hot men wanted with you, but right now, it didn't matter one bit. 

Jimin's eyes rolled back when he reached in your sports bra to run his fingers over your hardened nipples. You twitched against him as you gasped, fingers intertwining with his hair roughly, "Shit." He groaned at the sensation.

You both sloppily kissed as he explored your chest with his hands, moaning into each other's mouths at the euphoria of unresolved feelings coming to fruition and the sexual tension finally snapping as you gave him unrestricted access to feel you beneath his fingertips, "Wanted this for so long." He murmurs into your mouth, "So beautiful, fuck." The praises don't stop, and only further spur you wandering hand on as you feel his sculpted stomach.

"Wanna touch you." You whine as your fingers play with the waistband of his sweats and he nods, his own hand travelling down to cup your core, making you squeak, "Fuck, I'm so wet." You realized, half embarrassed and half aroused.

You could feel his amusement as he slipped his hand beneath your tights and panties to make skin to skin contact with your soaked core, and he didn't know how he made it this far, but he just wants to keep going as he feels you soak his hand, "Yeah, baby, you are, just for me." He moans when you follow his lead, hand wrapping around his hardened erection and giving a small squeeze, "Shit!" He gasps as you wiggled your hips against his hand, grinding yourself little by little. 

Your hand massaged the head, smearing the precum as you begin stroking him. You both continue moaning into each other's mouths as his hips jerked and you twitched against his hands, "So fucking wet, baby, so sexy." He growled and he slipped a finger inside of you, him groaning at your pulsating warmth wrapped around his finger, "Slid right in, angel." He praises and you let out a choked gasp and he presses his thumb against your clit.

He drank your moans into his mouth like they were an oasis in the desert, and he’s not sure how he’s lived this long without them. Without you by his side and in his arms. He held you close, refusing to even consider loosening his grip because your body against his was bliss in the highest form. You were his, even if just in this moment, and you would be nobody else’s. Nobody could make him feel the way you do, and he, along with the other men that resided in the building, were determined to hold the same monopoly over your emotions. He refused to entertain the idea of anyone beyond this building making you feel anything close to what he was now as he pushed a second finger in, relishing in the strangled moan you gave as you babbled about feeling full.

With the excitement of his dream girl dripping against his hand and your own hand working expertly on his dick, Jimin could feel himself getting close and you could tell from the breathy whines he gave you as he began thrusting his hips in time with his fingers inside you, "Cum for me, Jiminie." You purred before licking at his tongue and he came beautifully with his eyes screwed shut and mouth open as you swiveled your hips agains his, now two, fingers.

"Baby, so good." He whined as his high settled down. He shifted all focus to you and your impending orgasm as he watched you fuck yourself onto his hand, "Feeling good, darling?" He asked teasingly and you nodded dumbly, lips pressed together as you felt your high approach, "I can feel you clenching around my fingers, fuck, you gonna cum in my hand all pretty?" He cooed and you nodded as he met your thrusts, making you clutch onto him harder.

"Can I cum?" You whimpered and Jimin could almost feel himself get hard again at how willing you were to give him the reigns.

"Because you asked so sweetly, of course my love." He let the name slip before you both could even acknowledge it consciously. However, the closeness and the intimacy of it all sent you over the edge and you bit down on his shoulder in attempt to hide how loud you were. He held you close, not minding one bit at the mark you were surely leaving as he fucked you through your orgasm, "Felt good, angel?" He mused and you tucked your face into his neck as you nodded, holding him close as his finger stilled but kept you full until he felt you relax. 

You both giggled as you met eyes, licking the other person's cum off of your hands, "Thank you Jiminie." You hummed cheerily.

"Thank you, bunny." He chided before giving you a kiss, "We all really, really, like you, you know that right?" He asked and noticed your hesitation.

"Sure, but people can be sexually attracted to me and not want to… be with me." You spoke wistfully, "People can like me and not want to be with me." You let out a humorless laugh, "And few things make me feel as dumb as getting my hopes up for no reason." Although you had a tendency to do it time and time again.

"Don't be scared to assume we want you as much as you, hopefully, want us." He spoke quickly before he planted another kiss on you and the affection made you smile.

"You realize the irony of the statement coming from you, right?" You chuckled as he helped you stand on shaky legs before just carrying you, "I cum once for you and all of sudden you know everything and are all confident." You chided, unsure how to process his words yet, mind hazy from your orgasm.

"What can I say? You opened my third eye." He joked and you rolled your eyes before leaning your head on his shoulder, enjoying his embrace, the idea of your housemates loving you back seeming just slightly less like an outlandish fantasy, "Although, it will wear off and then we'll have to do it all over again." He sighed dramatically and you giggled.

"What a shame." You fake gasped, "I hate engaging in sexual relations with hot guys." You complained sarcastically.

"So you do think I'm hot!" Jimin cheered triumphantly.

You laughed against him and realized the only times you felt so free were with your beloved housemates. You wondered if they felt the same. You also found a more insecure part wondering for how long they would feel that way. How long would it be until a girl, or several, much prettier than you or less needy catches their attention. You wondered if you could take the pain of watching the sincerity drain from their eyes just as you've seen in your mom, your dad, your uncle, your first relationship to your last. You wondered what it was about you that made it so easy to be left behind.

Jimin's phone pinged, ripping you from your melancholic thoughts. He sighed, pulling it out and you fought the urge to see if it was another person vying for his romantic attention. He didn't belong to you, even if you wanted him to, "Ah, Namjoon wants to know if you want the demo for the new zombie game he's working on and Jin wants to know if you'd like your first pick of the new stickers he got, and Hoseok wants to try a new hairstyle on you and ah, they all sent me something to ask you…. Gosh, they all think I'm your secretary when we're together." He whined and you held onto him tighter with a light laugh as he went through everyone's inquiries for you.

You also found yourself how you went on this long without them and how you could even consider hesitating if they asked you to stay with them for much longer.

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[latte-fairytaekwoon]

Kickstart My Heart Pt.1 (Racer! Yeosang)

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Pairing: Racer! Kang Yeosang × Waitress/Fuckgirl! Reader (Female)

Genre: Fluff, Angst, 80s AU.

Summary: During an era known for its vibrant colors, eccentric fashion styles and rise of new yet unconventional genres of music, the young generation of that time was infamously known for their need to rebel and live their lives rather scandalously and Y/N is no exception. So when a new and attractive man moves into her town, she has her eyes set on making him her next boy toy.

Word Count: 4K+

Warnings: Dumb attempts at crackhead humor, reader is a cold hearted bitch, guy gets dumped in public, reader's friend is lowkey creepy.

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Throwing on the last article of clothing that had been discarded the night before, the young woman shook out her hair, still damp from the quick shower she just took. Picking up her bag, she looked over at the figure still sleeping soundly, the subtle hint of a smile on his face. With a pitied pout on her lips, she walked over to the edge where his face was. Taking out the lipstick tube from her bag, she applied it all over her lips, painting them in the dark burgundy color that she fancied so much and had practically become her signature hue. Bending over, she pressed her lips against the corners of his mouth, giving him the faintest whisper of a kiss before pulling away. A satisfied smirk was plastered on her pretty features as she stared at the lipstick mark on his face, the only memoir she'd leave him with as she had done with countless others.

Closing the front door behind her, she pulled her denim jacket tighter on her body, shivering slightly from the early dawn's breeze that blew across. It was always like that even though summer had just begun, the early morning hours still feeling obnoxiously cool and then transpiring into slightly uncomfortably warm afternoons that had more than one soul in that quaint town grumbling and fussing about the weather. But oh did the evenings feel absolutely refreshing, and that's when everything would start bustling to life.

Having finally made it out of that small residential area and finding one of the main roads that helped her locate where to go, she started heading south towards the all too familiar diner where she had been working in ever since her school days, first starting part time and eventually transpiring to full time when it came time for her to spread her wings and fly out on her own, a feat she had been most anxious to do to get away from the overly controlling nature of her parents. She knew they cared about her, but she herself cared very little about the morals and principles they had raised her with, a common trait all the young people in that town shared: their rebellious and headstrong nature to not conform and go against everything they had been taught thus far. Live their own lives as freely as they chose to do.

And she definitely lived as she wanted to, even if it ended up with a rather bad reputation and ugly labels that rather than infuriate her, she openly embraced, as others had come to as well.

The light twinkle of the bells above the glass door let the person at the register know someone came in and they immediately plastered on their business smile, which quickly faded when they saw who it was.

"You're late Y/N." The minuscule raven haired waitress informed her, eyes never leaving her coworker's figure that came behind the counter and started punching in her number.

"Only by like 7 minutes." She waved her slip at the nonchalant looking girl before placing it back in its respective slot.

"One day it wouldn't surprise me if you just didn't show up because you got too caught up in.... something else."

Chuckling softly, Y/N walked up behind her coworker, hands coming up to ruffle the cheekbone level bob cut hair framing her unusually small face.

"Awww come on Lynn, you know I'd never leave you hanging here to attend customers by yourself. You're my bestie." Y/N assured her, playfully poking her lips out as she tried to place a kiss on her friend, the poor girl craning her neck away as she tended to dislike physical affection.

"I will squirt ketchup on you." Lynn threatened as she picked up the cherry red bottle as a last resort to get her attacker to back away. A rather noisy struggle ensued between both girls, catching the attention of the owner and cook behind the two doors, prompting her to come out and see what was the cause of such ruckus.

"Well I'll be darned. I don't remember paying you youngsters to simply slack off and behave like the hooligans you are." The middle aged woman spoke up, her thick accent becoming more prominent. Although she had a stern look and hands placed at her hips, the girls knew she was not in reality angry at them.

Looking over at the recently arrived girl, the owner closed her eyes and sighed deeply when she took in the attire she was wearing: low cut white tank, ripped denim shorts that left little to the imagination if she bent down, fishnet tights with a few holes in them, and her beloved denim jacket that was almost always on Y/N's body.

"I swear to god, Y/N , everytime I see you wear them rags you call clothes, I feel like my body is about to collapse. Why must you insist on dressing like a common street worker?"

Y/N wasn't at all offended by her words, having grown used to and becoming fond of her boss's abrupt, direct and honest manner of speaking.

"Gotta start looking the part if I'm going to dedicate my life to the occupation." She giggled at her own joke, resulting in the older woman taking the rag off her apron and smacking her with it.

"This little runt, talking nonsense like that- get your ass back in there and change into your uniform. Can't have you prancing around here in those skimpy clothes and have all these men that come here say disrespectful things about you. Nuh uh, not to my girls." She shook her head.

"Yes Miss Audrey." Complying with the woman's wishes, she pushed open the swing doors leading to the back and quickly made her way to the corner where all the employee's cubicles were located. Grabbing the necessary items, she turned and went inside the bathroom to change into her uniform, consisting of a knee length crimson red dress, which she had actually altered so it would be shorter and display her thighs more, the cap sleeves slightly puffed up and the torso part had a trail of white buttons going all the way up to the modest v-neckline, usually most buttons were left undone so her cleavage would shamelessly peak out. Exchanging her black Doc Martens in favor of her white Nike sneakers, Y/N tied her apron around her waist, making sure it was as tight as possible so it would accentuate her curves and give her body a more flattering appearance. As she made her way out, she quickly piled her hair up before securing it with one of the many elastics she kept around her wrists, leaving out a few tendrils to fall on her temples.

Coming back out to start her daily work, she stood in front of Lynn, who merely spared her an unamused glance.

"How do I look?" Y/N asked.

"Like a total slut." Her friend answered in her usually rude way.

Rolling her eyes, Y/N grabbed a spray bottle and a rag. Making her way over to the table that had just finished being used, she quickly picked up the plates and glass, bringing them back over to where Lynn was, who took them so she could wash them in the sink. Spraying the top of the marble piece, she had began her task of wiping down the table when the ringing of the bell signaled new customers had arrived, and rowdy ones at that too.

"Damn! Is today's special fluffy sponge cake? Cause I would sure love a piece of that ass."

Y/N recognized that annoying voice even from miles away, belonging to none other than one of her old classmates, Jung Wooyoung, whom she considered a friend, if he didn't manage to irk her too much. Turning around, she of course wasn't surprised to see him surrounded by his crew of equally idiotic and adrenaline junkie friends, whom she had to admit were pleasant and fun to hang out with.

"Sit your asses down already, I'll be over in a minute to take your order." She told them before resuming her previous task, earning a scoff from the most dramatic of the group.

"Fine customer service! Don't think you'll be getting a tip from me." His words made her nearly burst into a fit of giggles.

"Wooyoung please, you never ever tip whenever you come. None of you, except Yunho." It kinda saddened her that said male unfortunately wasn't there with them at the moment.

"He doesn't tip you, he tips short stack over there." His friend with cat like eyes pointed towards Lynn, who upon overhearing him held up a rather explicit finger in his direction.

"I'll poison your food San." She threatened with a sing song tone.

"Like I wouldn't know that you already spit on it." San spat back, sticking his tongue out in his immature and infantile fashion.

"Can you guys hurry up and order already? I'm starving and we gotta head to the tracks as early as possible." The fiery red haired male known as Song Mingi blurted out, fingers tapping impatiently against the top of the table.

"If little miss g-string would care to hop her luscious ass over here, maybe we could."

Strutting over to where they sat, Y/N harshly threw the dirty rag on Wooyoung's face, causing a faint grunt to come out of his mouth.

"No matter how many times you mention my ass, I'm still not letting you tap it." She firmly stated, making Wooyoung slightly purse his lips outwards in a disappointed grimace.

"So anygays-" Mingi began.

"Umm I think you mean anyways." San corrected him.

Leaning in towards him, Mingi locked eyes on the shorter male and stared him down with an intimidating glare.

"Did I stutter Choi?"

San immediately shook his head rapidly. With a victory smile, Mingi reclined back in his seat.

"I'm just going to get the breakfast platter with some orange juice."

Y/N couldn't stifle her snort when he said his choice of drink, the other two men looking away in embarrassment.

"You've been drinking orange juice since you were in grade school Mingles, don't you think you outta start taking something more grown up? Like coffee?" San suggested and Mingi did not appreciate it.

"Coming from the one who still brings a plushie to sleep with him, your suggestion holds no value or power." He retorted.

"OK SHIBER IS NOT A PLUSHIE, HE'S FAMILY YOU JACKASS!" San sprinted up from his seat, nearly leaning across to grab Mingi by the color, but he was held back by Wooyoung.

Lynn, who had thus far stayed quiet, promptly came up with a spray bottle and consequently doused the untamed boy on his face.

"Bad kitty, bad kitty." She reprimanded him, unable to resist the opportunity to attack her long time frenemy.

"Lynn!" Y/N looked at her with surprise.

"You're welcome." Lynn replied rather monotone before going back to her place behind the counter like she didn't just spray San with disinfecting water.

"There's too many germs going around anyways..." She muttered under her breath.

Without any further interruptions, aside from the rumbling coming out of the boys' stomachs, they finished ordering what they wanted and Y/N sent it over so they could be prepared. Not wanting to be near their loud asses, Y/N went back over to where Lynn was, peeking over to see what she was currently reading in the magazine she held.

"What you reading?" She casually inquired.

"Horoscope section." Y/N wasn't surprised, her friend tended to be into more mystical, eccentric and rather.....extreme with her taste in fashion and music. If Y/N was the one who turned heads for her scandalous attire, Lynn was the one people turned away from in fear when they saw how she dressed. It was a sight that truly made both of them laugh at people's foolishness, well at least made Y/N laugh. Her friend rarely had any other expression plastered on that wasn't utter disdain for society and life.

Unexpectedly, another customer came in. Both girls looked at each other in confusion when neither of them recognized him. Their town was rather small with few people living there, so they deduced that he must be a traveler who probably got lost on his route. He himself looked around nervously, eyes barely lifting up. Y/N couldn't help herself as she took in his perfect face. Big, round eyes with crystal clear orbs, small face with a V-line jaw, perfectly sculpted nose with no sign of defects, skin smooth and blemish free, he looked like a prince out of a fairytale. He was incredibly pretty, yet stood there so awkwardly that it was almost comical.

"Hey Yeosang! You made it! Sit down! I ordered for you in advanced!" Wooyoung surprised both girls when it seemed he knew the stranger and even waved him over to where they sat. The other two boys also seem familiarized with him and welcomed him to sit with them, chatting up a storm already with him.

"Who's that?" Lynn was the one to finally ask out loud.

"Beats me.....but he sure is adorable."

Noticing the way her lips curled upwards, Lynn could already see the wheels inside Y/N's head turning.

"And I bet you're going to go over there and find out- aaand there you go." She ended up answering her own deduction as she watched Y/N happily walked over with a more bright expression on her face, that soon soured when her boss came out of the kitchen and beat her over to the table, laying down several plates of food.

"I knew as soon as I saw the orders that it had to be the lot of you." She scoffed softly as she looked at the boys' grinning faces.

"You know us Miss Audrey, we wouldn't ever think of eating anywhere else but here. You're the best cook in all of town." Wooyoung praised her with a sparkling charm that could have fooled anyone else but not the robust woman in front of him.

"Boy stop trying to tickle my ears, I've known you since you were in your soiled diapers being carried around by your mama, running around and creating chaos anywhere you went. Flattery may work on them poor girls you play with but me? I can see right through ruffians like you."

Turning her head to finally notice the new addition to the group, she looked him up and down.

"Boy who might you be?" She questioned him, earning the ears of the girls nearby to listen in for any valuable information.

"I'm..... Yeosang Kang, nice to meet you." He introduced himself, tilting his head slightly down when he said that.

"He just moved into town this week! He's the new guy who is going to work with us down at the car shop and help on the race track!" San enthusiastically shouted, making the older woman cringe.

"I may be old, but I still haven't gone deaf for you to yell in such a way boy. So...." She crossed her arms and looked at Yeosang again.

"You a racer too?"

Now the girls, particularly Y/N, were more interested in what his response would be.

"I- yes. So it seems." The poor boy looked so flustered, obviously being more of a soft spoken individual, contrasting starkly to the other 3 boys.

Miss Audrey let out a seemingly displeased hum at his answer.

"As if we needed anymore hooligans running wild. We already got enough with the 3 Stooges over here."

The girls couldn't help but snicker at their boss's words, always having a blast whenever she put the boys back in their place. They however looked displeased, glaring at them intensely.

"Shouldn't you both be off somewhere cleaning dishes or making sandwiches?"

Snatching one of the knifes, Lynn held it up and was about to jump over, but Y/N came up in front of her.

"Lynn, no. Just calm down ok? You know they're just being idiots." Y/N reminded her.

Grumbling something in a foreign language no one knew for sure if it was real or not, Lynn put the knife back, squinting her eyes at them before turning around to not look at them again. Y/N giggled softly, finding it absolutely cute whenever her friend lost her cool and collected form cause it reminded her of a chihuahua, barking and yelping at anything larger than itself trying to establish dominance.

Noticing that in her display of aggression, Lynn had inadvertently knocked over a few of the brochures that were on display for people to take, Y/N stooped down and proceeded to pick them up in a casual manner. Standing up, she neatly arranged them properly, making sure they all faced the same direction and the sides weren't poking out anywhere. Feeling as though someone had been watching her all along, she looked at the table of boys, half expecting Wooyoung's smug grin to greet her, but she was completely wrong as it was none other than the new guy who seemed unable to keep his eyes off her figure, staring intently at the length of her skirt. When he realized she noticed, his eyes went wide, cheeks burning up with utter embarrassment. Y/N however seemed unbothered by this. Wanting to test something, she pretended to accidentally drop one of the pamphlets. Bending over, she made sure he could get a perfect glimpse of her cleavage, if he payed enough attention, he'd be able to see that she was in fact, not wearing any bra. Coming back up, Y/N looked over to see the results, smirking when the agape mouth of Yeosang confirmed to her that he had indeed noticed everything.

"Oh sweetheart, you're gonna be too easy..." She had already made up in her mind that Yeosang would be her next target, and she had to put her plan in action. Placing the brochures down, she was about to go over and start flirting with him, until a familiar voice called for her.

"Y/N! There you are!"

She internally groaned when she heard him, wondering why on earth did he not get the hint of ditching him like that, especially when he very well knew about the reputation she had. She tried ignoring him, but of course, he had had to be the persistent type, no doubt thinking he was going to have a different ending than the rest before him.

"I thought you'd be here. You could have told me you were going to be gone early. I would have made you breakfast."

Knowing she had to say something, Y/N grabbed her pad and gave him the fakest smile she was capable of donning.

"Hi, what can we get started for you today? Waffles? Eggs and bacon? Coffee to start off with?"

The trio of friends, having no choice but to witness the interaction due to it happening right in front of them, snickered amongst themselves.

"Oh shit. He's in for it." San whispered lowly.

The boy obviously looked extremely confused, his smile lightly falling off, but then returning to its hopeful state.

"Why are you acting like this candy bear? Pretending like you don't know me?" When he tried to reach a hand to pull her close, the girl simply pushed him away with one of her fingers.

"Look, clearly you're too stupid to understand so let me spell it out in a language you can understand." Letting out a tired sigh, she crossed her arms in front of her chest, a sour look displaying on her pretty face.

"We had a nice time together, and last night was... average to put it nicely."

"Oh man. That was a total burn." Mingi couldn't help but snort, some of the orange juice being spit back into his glass.

"But that was all it was and all it's ever going to be. So why don't you do yourself a favor and just go back home to your Star Trek figurines and watch the latest episode of Thunder Cats?"

The not so discreet snickering coming from the table behind them only made the humiliation for the man multiply significantly. Turning red with utter despair and rage, he quickly brushed past Y/N rather brusquely.

"Fucking bitch." She heard him mutter under his breath, a phrase she had grown accustomed to hearing among many others.

"Oh god. Homegirl struck again." Wooyoung laughed, swirling his milkshake in his hand.

"Ayo why you gotta do Thunder Cats like that? It's actually pretty entertaining." San commented.

Looking over at the time, the guys quickly stood up, dropping their share of bills onto the table.

"You guys get paid today too right? Come meet up with us at the track." Wooyoung suggested.

"Why on earth would we want to go see your greasy, oil smelling ass after dealing for nearly an hour with you already?" Lynn questioned him, eyes never peering up from her magazine.

"Because Yunho would be there?"

Still she didn't respond, the only movement made was her finger turning the page.

"Bro we been knew she don't give two shits about him." Mingi reminded them.

"Because we're going to the drive in theater after work, they're playing a horror movie."

Lifting her gaze, Lynn closed the magazine, although still stone faced, her eyes seemed to brighten up.

"My interest has been greatly piqued." Her lips showed the faintest whisper of a smile that gave a rather eerie and chilling feel down the people's spines.

"Maybe we should rethink inviting Satan's offspring." San leaned in towards Mingi, shivering significantly.

"Great! So we'll catch you gals later."

The boys quickly dispersed themselves, save Yeosang who still sat quietly, keeping mostly to himself. His fingers fidgeted with the half drunk cup he was holding, gaze fixed on the table in front of him. Looking up, he was attempting to work up the courage to talk to Y/N, but before he could even get the chance to gather strength, the owner came out from the back, whispering a few orders to her and gesturing for her to go tend to a situation in the kitchen. With a defeated sigh, he got up to go join the rest of the gang outside who were waiting for him. Slumping his hands in the pockets of his pants, he moved out of the booth with a solemn gaze.

"Hey."

His steps came to a screeching halt when he heard Y/N call out to him. Looking over, she smiled sweetly in his direction.

"Hope I see you later." With a flirtatious wink, she bid him goodbye as she disappeared into the back.

Yeosang stood there stunned momentarily, replaying her words over and over again in his mind, pondering endlessly at their meaning.

"Little pussy cat sure got you brain dead, didn't she?"

Startled by the unexpected voice next to him, he jumped when the face of the kind yet stern old lady studied him carefully. With a disapproving shake of her head, she decided it'd be best to warn him before he started getting ideas in his head.

"Listen, you seem like a sweet and sensible young man, so it's best for you to listen to me and stay away from that darn girl. Don't let them sugar coated lips of hers sweet talk themselves into your heart. You'll just end up heart broken like all the lovers she's had."

Picking up some of the plates, she gave him one last look, pointing an accusatory finger at him to get her point across.

"She's dangerous." Finally saying what she needed to say, Miss Audrey headed back with plates in her arms, slapping away Lynn's hands when they attempted to pry them off her, barking instructions at her to watch the counter and leave her be.

"Dangerous....." Yeosang thought to himself, the warning the good intended woman gave him sinking deep in his mind. Although he took her words to heart, something about the way she glanced at him pulled at the strings in his chest, taking his breath away when he remembered the risque position she was in that purposely allowed him to view more than he should have. That memory tinted his cheeks pink, lips unable to suppress a small smile. He knew that he should heed the old woman's advice.

But he had to admit that he loved danger and the thrill it came with.........

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Taglist: @little-precious-baby @yunhofingers @brie02 @galaxteez @multidreams-and-desires @deja-vux @hanatiny @couchpotatoaniki @daniblogs164 @a-soft-hornytiny @yunsangoveryonder @minhyukmyluv @nanamarkie @ateezbabysitters @mingismoon @rainteez02

[marmosa]

you’re no fun.

Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Word count: 4k

Warnings: none, i barely proof read this so maybe shitty writing?

A/N: i wrote this for my friend after she pitched me the idea, so this one goes out to her <3 i’m not too confident with this piece but i really do like the second half. hope you guys enjoy :)

***

“We are not talking about this again.”

“Oh come on [y/n], don’t be like that!”

“Fred, I’ve already told you a million times, I’m not telling you who I want to ask me to the ball and I’m most certainly not telling you who I fancy,” [y/n] scoffed, tightening her grip on the books cradled to her chest.

“You’re no fun,” Fred huffed, slouching his shoulders and finally falling back into step with her, “you know if you just told me I could get him to ask you-,”

“I’m quite literally seconds away from hexing you and getting myself banned from the ball all together, don’t try your luck Weasley,” [y/n] narrowed her eyes, the threat ever present in her words.  

“That is the most Slytherin thing you’ve ever said,” Fred paused, a shit-eating grin pulling onto his lips, “Don’t tell me you want some stuck up bad mouther to ask you to the ball?”

[y/n] stopped in her tracks and looked at him an expression so surprised she might as well have been staring at one of the silly little creatures Lovegood was always going on about, “And so what if I did? What’s it to you?”

Her answer seemed to have taken Fred aback as pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, trying to think of a reply. It was [y/n]’s turn to smirk as she chuckled to herself, proud she’d been able to stun him into silence, “Finally gave up, huh?”

As soon as the words left her mouth she was quick to regret it, Fred snapping back to reality, “You honestly think that was going to stop me? I am going to watch you like a Hyppogriff watches its lunch, I’ll get my answer whether you like it or not.”

“Yeah, yeah, keep on dreaming Weasley,” she hummed, trying not to let on that she was just as amused as he was hoping she’d be, “I’ll see you later, Fred.”

“Adieu!” He called from down the hall as he sprinted to make it to his next class on time after insisting on walking her to class.

“Adieu,” she muttered to herself, rolling her eyes in a feeble attempt to sooth the rising pace of her heart.

***

“I think I’ve figured it out.”

[y/n] groaned loudly and banged her head forward onto the table as Fred slid into the seat next to her. She lolled her head to the side and glared up at him, which he ignored and returned the sentiment with a grin.

“He’s a Gryffindor,” Fred claimed triumphantly, his grin only growing wider when [y/n]’s eyes nearly popped out of her head, “So Tessa didn’t lie to me!”

“Of course she told you, oh my god,” [y/n] turned her face back towards the table to hide her panicked expression.

“Well not everything, that was the only hint she gave me if it makes you feel better,” Fred shrugged, noticing her pinched brows and clenched hands in her lap.

“Oh thank the heavens,” she exhaled deeply, sitting back up and digging her palms into her eyes, “you nearly gave me a heart attack!”

“Why’s that? Scared I’m gonna tell him?” Fred teased, poking her in the side.

She swat his hand away and passed him a deadpan stare, “As if, you wouldn’t do it if I asked you not to.”

Fred’s cheeks tinged red which he quickly tried to hide as he tipped his chin up, crossing his arms over his chest, “that’s entirely not true.”

“Whatever you say Freddie,” [y/n] hummed, chuckling to herself and turning back to her papers.

“Say, have you gotten your dress yet? Tessa told me you were gonna go regardless of a partner,” Fred questioned, leaning his cheek onto his balled up fist, a small smile pulling onto his lips when she looked over at him with an excited glint in her eyes.

“It did! Wanna see it? I can show you now, potions work can wait,” She squealed, shutting her books and shoving her papers into her bag, “let’s go!”

[y/n] grabbed Fred’s hand and dragged him out of the Great Hall, pulling him along for most of the way until they reached the staircases. Fred looked down at her with a soft smile as she rambled on about the detailing and the pretty colors of the gown, an endearing look plastered on his face.

“Wait-!” [y/n] exclaimed as they stopped outside the dormitory entrance, the painting watching them both with nosy interest, “I can’t show you yet, it has to be a surprise for the actual ball!”

“Well then why the bloody hell did you drag me all the way out here?” Fred whined, pouting and reaching forward to poke her side again.

She swat at his hands again, “would you cut that out! Bloody hell, you’re dance partner is going to hate you if this is how you’re gonna treat her.”

“Well the jokes on you, I don’t have a dance partner,” Fred huffed, crossing his arms and marching off in the opposite direction.

“Wait, you don’t?” [y/n] asked incredulously, jogging to catch up with him, “why haven’t you asked her yet?

Fred pursed his lips and avoided her curious gaze, “because I’m worried she’s not going to say yes,” he admit quietly.

“I know it’s not fair of me to ask but who did you even have in mind, I might know if she’ll say yes! I frankly know far more than I’d like to about other people’s romantic endeavors, so I might have an answer,” [y/n] explained, looking up at him with eyes full of hope, her nerves hidden beneath still biting at her insides.

Fred swallowed his heartbeat and shrugged, trying his absolute best to calm the red starting to flush his face, “Since I’m not a stubborn git like you,” he paused as she scoffed jokingly, “I was thinking of asking,” his eyes scanned the hallway as he struggled to find an answer that wasn’t the girl standing by his side, his brain finally digging up a person, “Angelina. Yeah, I was thinking of asking Johnson.”

[y/n]’s heart sank to the bottom of her chest, a gaping hole starting to form where her heart had previously been, “Oh. Well, I know Angelina hasn’t take a particular fancy to anyone, so you should be all set. I can always ask her what she thinks of you too, if you want a more solid answer,” [y/n] muttered, trying her best to maintain whatever resolve she was clinging to that kept her tears at bay.

Fred noted the way she sunk into herself and tightened her grip around her books, the light bulb in his head flickering to life- was she upset?

“Thank you for the, uh, offer. I might just take you up on it,” Fred chuckled softly, trying to ease his own emotions while searching for a possible answer as to why she could be upset over this. He’d have to ask Tessa later.

“Of course, well, I have to head off to my next class, see you around Fred,” She pulled a tight-lipped smile, turning on her heel and hopping onto the nearest staircase, leaving Fred alone as she was lifted to the upper floor.

“Well shit,” He cursed.

***

Three days had passed since the Fred’s crappy revelation and as far as [y/n] was concerned she felt no will to attend the next day. Fred had gone ahead and asked Angelina the way he said he would and she watched it happen during their study period to which she quickly made up an excuse to leave the scene.

Tessa had tried her absolute best to console her best friend but it was no use, she had gone through hell and back getting [y/n] to even agree to still attend the ball. Another boy had come to [y/n], but she politely declined, knowing that leading him on would have gotten her nowhere but in trouble.

“Excited to dance the night away tomorrow? I promise I’m a better partner than you’d think,” Tessa giggled, nudging [y/n] in the side.

[y/n] looked up from her hand that she was glaring at intently as she carefully painted her nails a pretty shade that one of their roommates had let her borrow, “excited as always. But you do know, I’m going to avoid you like the plague, right? I’m not ruining your night with Diana.”

“Oh please, she won’t die if I dance with you once!” Tessa rolled her eyes, falling back so she was splayed out over her bed,  “We’ve been dating for a year now, she won’t take it poorly.”

“Still, this is like a once in a moon opportunity. I don’t intend on ruining it,” [y/n] insisted, concrete in her conclusion.

“Goodness, fine! You’re such a hard-head. Just promise me you’ll at least try to have fun?” Tessa pleaded, sitting up to give [y/n] an serious look.

“Whatever soothes your soul,” [y/n] hummed, biting back a smile when Tessa rolled her eyes, falling back once more.

“You’re no fun,” Tessa groaned.

“Not the first time I’ve been told that.” [y/n] giggled.

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, Fred says that to me a lot, he thinks I have a stick up my arse,”  [y/n] chuckled sadly, avoiding Tessa’s sympathetic gaze, “don’t look at me like that, I don’t want to think about it.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Tessa held her hands up defensively.

“Mhm, sure.”

“Shut up.”

“Gladly.”

***

“Tessa!”

Tessa came to a halt in the nearly empty hall, glancing over her shoulder with a confused look as she saw Fred racing towards her. She turned around completely to face him as he skid to a halt in front of her, her brows knit together as she wondered what he could possibly be tracking her down for the morning of the yule ball.

“Hey Fred, what seems to be the problem?”

“I, uh, wanted to ask you a question,” Fred explained through labored breathes as he leaned over, balancing his hands on his knees.

“Shoot.”

“When I told [y/n] that I was asking Angelina to the ball a couple days ago, she looked really upset. And I wasn’t quite sure what to make of so I wanted to ask if she’d told you what had happened?” Fred explained, his heart hammering against his chest.

Tessa’s face fell, a grimace pulling onto her features, “Fred...,” her voice trailed off.

“What?”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t-,” Tessa sighed, grabbing his arm and pulling him to the side of hall to avoid the traffic of other students, “take a wild guess.”

“Well, the only answer I can think of is-,” his eyes widened as a feeling of panic set in, “-oh shit,” Fred felt sick.

“Who did you think that Gryffindor was? Why did you think she left the Great Hall when you asked Angelina? Why did you think she was fine all the way up until she’d found out you asked Angelina? Fred, you’re by no means stupid, but this has got to be the dumbest thing you’ve ever done,” Tessa frowned, not knowing whether to sympathize with his situation or be mad at him.

“I-,” Fred searched for an excuse, but came up blank, “I had no idea. What am I suppose to do now?”

“Well you certainly can’t drop Angelina, not on the morning of the ball. And I don’t think [y/n] is going to want to feel like a last minute option either,” Tessa sighed and shook her head, “I truly can’t offer you much advice here, I think you’re just gonna have to muscle this one out.”

“Yeah,” Fred muttered, dragging his hands down his face, “Thanks Tessa.”

“Mhm,” Tessa offered him a half-hearted smile, “Good luck.”

“Thanks, I’ll need it.”

***

“You look lovely,” [y/n] smiled softly at her best friend in the mirror, zipping up the back of her dress, “Diana is gonna love it.”

“She better, we picked it out together,” Tessa laughed, smoothing out the creases on the bodice.

“Well in that case, she most certainly will love it,” [y/n] beamed.

“Aside from me, look at yourself, you’re just as beautiful as I knew you would be when we took it out of the parcel last week,” Tessa grinned, turning around to face [y/n] who was practically glowing with joy.

“You flatter me,” [y/n] scoffed playfully, dusting off invisible particles off her shoulder, “but thank you.”

“Of course,” Tessa nodded, “you ready to go?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” [y/n] exhaled, rolling her shoulders to sooth the nerves prickling at her skin.

“Then off we go!” Tessa cheered, hooking elbows with [y/n].

The two girls made their way down the stairs towards the Great Hall, eventually splitting off near the entrance when Tessa had to go find Diana among the gaggle of Hufflepuff’s nearby. [y/n] waved bye to her friend, turning on her heel and heading down towards the two main staircases, her hands clutching her dress so tightly she was sure it was going to tear in her fingers.

At the bottom of the staircase stood Fred, George, Seamus, and Oliver all chatting up a storm as they waited for their dates to arrive and join them before heading into the venue. The group of boys suddenly fell quiet when a hushed whisper fell over some of the groups surrounding them, turning around to the source of the sudden change in atmosphere.

“Holy shit,” Fred gasped quietly.

[y/n] descended the stairs, her gown billowing behind her. She looked positively radiant in the soft lighting of the candle lit corridors, her hair done in a way that framed her face perfectly. She carried herself like a queen down the steps, the bodice holding her up like an ancient Greek statue.

“Dude,” George muttered, elbowing Fred lightly, “do you know who she came with?”

“No one, I think, I heard she rejected one of Slytherin heartthrob’s,” Seamus whistled under his breath, answering George in Fred’s place.

Fred couldn’t take his eyes off her, his mind reeling. They way she described the dress didn’t half encompass the way she looked wearing it. Maybe it was good thing she didn’t show him that day, he would have become a complete blubbering mess had she worn it then.

“Are you gonna go talk to her?” George urged, nudging Fred slightly.

Fred finally snapped out of his trance and turned back around, stuffing his hands in his pockets and shaking his head, “I asked Angelina to the ball. It wouldn’t be fair to her for me to start the night off with another girl.”

“That’s for certain, it’s a sure sad thing she came alone though,” Oliver noted, shaking his head.

“I heard it’s because the person she likes asked someone else.”

The boys turned their heads to see Angelina and Clover, Seamus’s date, walking over. Fred felt his heart only sink further when he saw just how lovely Angelina had done herself up for the night, knowing full well he wasn’t at all going to give what she’d come for.

“Is that so?” George hummed, glancing at his brother who looked downright ill, “Well let’s not jump to assumptions, maybe she’s just independent like that.”

“Good point, it’s just something I caught in the girls restroom,” Angelina shrugged, “You boys ready to head in?”

“Seamus and Fred can go on ahead, We’ll stay and wait for our dates,” Oliver nodded towards the doors leading to the Great Hall.

“You’re sure?” Seamus asked, hooking arms with Clover.

“Certain,” George concluded, “See you boys in a bit,” he reached over patting his brother’s back reassuringly.

“See you,” Fred smiled, hooking arms with Angelina, leading her inside.

***

[y/n] sat at a table alone, smiling to herself as she watched Tessa and Diana dance across the ballroom floor, trying to pick out her roommates and their dates while she sipped her punch. She fiddled idly with the folded fabric in her lap, rubbing the material between her fingers to occupy her mind.

“Are you certain you don’t want to dance with me?” Tessa exhaled, both her and Diana stumbling over to the table as the most recent song came to an end.

“I need a break anyway and you look bored to death over here, go have some fun!” Diana teased, plopping down in a seat and slipping off her heels.

“I promise I will not step on your toes,” Tessa reassured [y/n], extending her hand.

“I’ll have to take your word for it,” [y/n] rolled her eyes, taking her hand and rushing off to the dance floor.

The two girls swayed around the dance floor, giggling as they dipped and spun each other unexpectedly, thankfully avoiding each other toes as promised. The surrounding couples all seemed to be enjoying themselves as well, platonic, romantic, or otherwise. [y/n] was overwhelmed with thankfulness at having such kind and caring friends, especially at times like this.

“You know, I hate to be a party pooper,” Tessa started, dipping [y/n] and pulling her back up, “but Fred has been staring at you since the ball started.”

[y/n] felt her eyes go wide as she processed the admittance, looking around the seating area frantically, her mouth running dry when she locked eyes with Fred who was being less than conspicuous staring directly at her.

She snapped her gaze back to Tessa as the song came to an end, “I think I need a breath of fresh air, I won’t be gone long!”

Before Tessa could offer a reply, [y/n] was rushing off, dashing out of the crowd and out to a nearby balcony to get some cold winter air in her lungs and against her sticky skin.

Fred watched [y/n] run out of the Great hall, his brows pinching together as he wondered what could possibly be wrong. Before he could get too sucked into his thoughts, he felt a tap on his shoulders.

“Go to her,” Angelina demanded.

“What?”

“I’ve been watching you this entire night and the only other thing you’ve been doing aside from dancing has been staring at her. You’re a fool if you say otherwise,” Angelina deadpanned a-matter-a-factly.

“But I don’t want to leave-,”

“Oh please, you think you’re my only option? Don’t flatter yourself Weasley. Now go, before she talks herself into getting over you,” Angelina huffed, nodding her head in the direction [y/n] left.

“I’m sorry, and thank you,” Fred smiled, hopping out of his seat and running after [y/n].

***

[y/n] sat on one of the benches outside a little ways away from the Great Hall, far enough for some seclusion but still near enough to hear the music. She blinked back tears threatening to fall and ruin her makeup, frustrated with herself for getting worked up after having a great time with her best friend only moments ago.

“You’re a fool,” [y/n] muttered to herself, resting her forehead on her wrist, elbows balanced on her knees.

The cold ended up being just what she had need, the cool air blanketing her in the relief she’d wanted from the suffocatingly hot Hall. Her head snapped up as she heard footsteps approach, a panic setting in despite the relative safeness of campus.

“[y/n]?” A familiar voice called.

“Fred?” [y/n] replied confusedly, turning her head the opposite direction to fan at her eyes to hide the tears the were previously glistening there.

“Oh thank goodness it’s you,” He exhaled, skidding to a stop in front of her, “I was worried I had just bothered some couple getting it on.”

[y/n] scrunched her nose in disgust and felt a laugh bubble out from between her lips, “Hello to you too, Fred.”

Fred’s cheeks hued red, the color spreading to the tips of his ears, “Hey.”

“What’re you doing here? Didn’t you come with Angelina?” [y/n] questioned, cocking her head to the side.

“I did, but uhm, but plans changed,” Fred explained, struggling to piece together the smooth talker persona he usually sported.

“Changed? Well that’s not abnormal coming from you, Mr. spontaneous,” [y/n] teased.

“Yup, you’ve caught me,” Fred chuckled, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“I guess I have,” [y/n] hummed, “but, truly, what brought you out here?”

“Well, it’s a long story, okay, it’s actually a short story,” Fred started to ramble, unsure exactly how he was suppose to lead up to “hey I’m in love with you” in this particular situation, “I was stupid and I made a lot of mistakes and it shouldn’t have taken me so long to notice but it did and I desperately want to fix my mistakes and I don’t know how to without being direct at this point because explaining everything would take us forever but I like you [y/n]. More than I’d care to admit.”

[y/n] sat there stunned, her mind reeling as she processed his confession, the heat she’d come outside to cool quickly rushing back, “I-,”

“I would say that it’s okay if you don’t like me back but I did all the emotional maths and I put the pieces together after Tessa practically knocked the sense into me and I know I’m the Gryffindor you we’re talking about so you can’t say no unless Angelina was right and you did talk yourself out of liking me any-,” Fred continued on, his eyes anywhere but [y/n]’s face, before he felt her hands placed gently on his cheeks turning him to face her.

“Shut up and kiss me Weasley.”

A smitten smile pulled itself onto his lips which was quickly swallowed with [y/n]’s own lips. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her impossibly closer, relishing in the feeling of her lips against his and the soft patterns her thumbs traced across his freckled skin.

When they pulled away Fred couldn’t help himself but to break into laughter, swaying her side to side with him in excitement. She laughed giddily along with him, squealing delightfully when he picked her up and spun her around before quickly settling her back down on the snow dusted floor.

“I think now would be a good time to tell you that you look absolutely radiant tonight,” Fred sighed in a hushed tone, cupping her cheek in his palm

[y/n] looked down and pressed her lips together to hide her smile, suddenly shy of his admiration filled gaze. He chuckled and tipped her head back up to face him, “don’t get embarrassed on me now!”

“I’m not embarrassed! Just happy,” [y/n] shrugged, placing her hand over his wrist tenderly, squeezing gently.

“Well that’s good news, I’d be proper worried if it was anything else,” Fred laughed, the sound rumbling in his chest.

[y/n] rolled her eyes playfully at his comment, “I guess I should tell you that you also look quite lovely tonight too. Molly truly outdid herself.”

“Oooo someone thinks I’m handsome,” Fred wiggled his eyebrows.

“Hmph, you’ve gone and ruined it, leave me be,” [y/n] wrestled herself out of his grip, teasingly walking off.

“You’re no fun! Come back here,” Fred groaned, grabbing her wrist and tugging her back into his arms, “you hear that? I think they’re starting a new waltz.”

“Should we head back inside then?” [y/n] suggested, “it is kind of cold out here.”

“Nah, it’s cramped in there anyways,” Fred shook his head, shrugging off his robes and wrapping them around her shoulders, “that ‘ought to do it. So, [y/l/n], would you do me the honor of giving me this dance?”

“I most certainly would,” [y/n] smiled, taking his hand in hers and placing the other on his shoulder, “don’t step on my toes now.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, but no promises,” Fred grinned, placing his hand on her waist.

“Me neither,” [y/n] giggled, leaning forward to give him a chaste kiss as the music started.

“Hold on tight, I’m gonna give you the best dance of your night,” Fred declared, standing tall.

“Don’t let Tessa hear you she might kick your arse,” [y/n] warned him, giggling at the faux fear that washed over his face.

“Pish posh, she’ll survive the blow to her ego, now shut up and dance with me  [y/n].”

“Gladly, Freddie.”

[juniorgman187]

Love & Other Drugs (Reid Fic) Part 2

Summary: Reid’s addiction is proven to stand in the way of many things, including his and Reader’s first kiss.  Pairing: Fem!Reader x Season 2/ Season 3 Spencer Reid Category: Mini-series, Angst Word Count: 4k Content Warning: Allusions to addiction, fear of flying

PART 1 HERE!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

It took all of me not to pay attention to the way Spencer led me through the park by holding my hand, but my heart was beating like a hammer against cloth. I fear he might’ve even heard it thumping out of my chest whenever he’d look over his shoulder and make sure I was still there behind him. There was always a small smile that followed his action, a physical manifestation of his joy when he looked back and saw me already looking at him, too.

Was this the Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde duality I was suspicious of witnessing on the first day we met? Because I assure you, if you had told me that the guy I met that day was capable of taking me to a silent film in a field, I wouldn’t have believed you, much less that I’d agree - even want - to go. Even now, I’m not sure this feels real. 

“This is a good spot, right? It’s equidistant from the car to the scree-”

“It’s perfect.” I quickly shut him up with a lighthearted laugh. 

He sighed happily and released my hand for a brief moment to lay down the blanket for us to sit on. At first when we sat down, we were both too shy to be too close. 

Here again, Spencer saw our glaring similarities peeking through. Not just in our mutual bashfulness, but in the way we were sitting; both of our legs were outstretched in front of us as we leaned back on our hands. 

In a pure-of-heart manner, I felt Spencer extend his pinky to graze over mine. That was the extent of our physical touch, but even with as little of an action as it was, it still gave me more butterflies than any hand-holding, hug, or kiss ever had. That’s how magical his touch was ... how magical he was. 

Had I not been observing him from my peripherals, I might’ve not noticed his relentless staring. I calculated it later on, but I think he watched me more than he watched the movie. I would even argue that he looked at me like the whole world could crumble and still, he wouldn’t blink. 

It was somewhere in the climax of the film, where Spencer leaned in, and I followed suit, taking his sudden movement as an indication that he was going to whisper something in my ear. 

“Souls do not have calendars or clocks, nor do they understand the notion of time or distance,” After a minute of confusion, I quickly realized he was vocalizing the dialogue of the silent movie. “They only know it feels right to be with one another.”

Though this was a direct quote from the film, it felt like he was speaking it right to me, and I had to think that there was some sort of special significance to this statement, otherwise why would it be the only one he chose to say out loud out of all the inaudible verses he could’ve chosen from? 

Souls do not have calendars or clocks, nor do they understand the notion of time or distance. They only know it feels right to be with one another. I recited in my head. 

I’d already been looking at him, but now, I was actually seeing him. 

I think my soul recognized his. 

My eyes unintentionally fell to his lips, giving him the green light to lean in even closer. There was nearly no distance between us; I could feel his breath fanning over my mouth, but right as I inclined forward, a drop of water ran down my cheek. It shocked me and made me recoil backward, seizing the distance I advanced. 

All at once, many more drops of rain came, earning squeals and yelps from the crowd. Chaos erupted in the form of abandoned blankets, a dampening film screen, and squelching grass under the pitter patter of a hundred running feet. With ardent conviction, Spencer took my hand so we could run to the car to escape the rain beating down on us. I heard him laugh and it made me do just the same. We were so happy just running in the rain. 

“Get in! Get in!” Spencer shrieked as he opened my door to slide me into the passenger seat. It didn’t go unnoticed that he still took the time to be a gentleman despite the chaos of the storm. 

We were both audibly breathless when he finally got into the car, our panting steaming up the car and casting fog on all surrounding windows. 

“Oh god,” I sighed when I examined the state of my stringy hair in the visor’s mirror. 

The sound of rain relentlessly pelting the windshield, sounding more like heavy hail than delicate drops of water, mixed with the sound of our breathlessness as the adrenaline coursed through our veins. I looked over at Spencer to see his cheeks flushed red from the running and how his hair had been dampened into wet curls and I had laughed. 

“What? Why are you laughing at me?” He innocently asked. 

“No, no I’m not laughing.” I said, while laughing. 

“Yes, you are! Why? What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, you’re just so …” My voice faded out upon the realization that we were exactly as we were before the rain started to fall - centimeters apart. 

There was nothing I wanted more than to kiss him, and I actually might’ve after he gently caressed my face while drawing me nearer. We both shut our eyes in preparation for what we thought would be the world’s greatest, most addictive kiss, but I felt myself draw back and hesitate. It was on instinct; a completely separate motion from my mind, but my body did it anyway, as if it knew something that my mind didn’t. 

“Okay, okay - we don’t have to kiss.” He instantly surrendered, pulling away completely. 

“No, no it’s not that. I did want to kiss you.” I said with utter frustration at myself for ruining the moment like that, especially because I didn’t even mean to back out, I just did. 

“But?”

But I needed to figure out my feelings before I toyed with his. 

I couldn’t kiss him because it would’ve been selfish. It would’ve been a careless action in the heat of the moment and it would’ve told him that I had romantic feelings for him and that I always had, but I didn’t know if that was really true. I mean, originally, I wasn’t spending time with him because I liked him like that - I was spending time with him because I was stubborn, and curious, and combative, and everything he didn’t deserve. And while my feelings may have changed, maybe into something more genuine, I never wanted to lead him on - even if I did feel the same way. 

He is such a good guy, and I would’ve brought ruin upon him even further. 

��But um, if we stay in our wet clothes any longer, we’ll probably get sick.” I told him, lying right through my teeth. 

He seemed to accept this as an answer, but this determination was based off of my limited perception of him, considering he was well on his way to driving out of the parking lot before I could look at him any further. 

The air was colder now, and not just because of the heavy rainfall. There was clearly a shift in our dynamic, probably because he didn’t know how to act around me anymore, but still, I made no attempts to change that. I think I was just as confused as he was and any more muddling of the situation on my part would’ve only made things worse. It was better that I left things alone this time. 

“Thank you. For the ride.” I awkwardly chirped when he dropped me off; this was the first words spoken the entire duration of the car ride. 

He pursed his lips once more into a thin line, and this time I recognized that this wasn’t a smile. “No problem.” 

Something in me was tethering me to this car and it wouldn’t let me leave. 

I had to tell him. 

“Hey, Spencer?” I glanced over my shoulder with my hand still on the interior car handle. “I’m sorry.” 

He shook his head almost with a laugh. “Don’t be sorry. You did nothing wrong.” 

And maybe he was being truthful, maybe he was being so incredibly honest, but a part of me just couldn’t believe that he was sincerely okay with my denial of his kiss. But then again, maybe it was me who wasn’t sincerely okay with the denial of his kiss. 

There were words still left unspoken hanging in the air, but neither I, nor him, decided to vocalize them. Maybe in some way, we already knew. 

In one swift motion, I opened the door and left his car while the rain drummed on me.

I would be lying if I said I didn’t stall my walk a little just to avoid reaching a distance too far from his car to hear him call out a protest to stop. Maybe I was even waiting for him to join me in the rain, as hopelessly romantic as that sounds. 

“(Y/n)?” 

Like an expectant animal, my ears perked up when I heard Spencer call out my name over the hood of the car. “Yes?” 

He looked down briefly before mustering up the courage to say, “I’m sorry, too.” For what reason he was apologizing, I didn’t know.

“Why?”

“I was a jerk to you the first day I met you and you didn’t deserve that.” He finished his sentence, but I could tell there was something more he wanted to say. If he had said it, I imagine he would’ve finally admitted what we both couldn’t stop thinking about. 

His addiction. 

“You’re forgiven,” I lightheartedly laughed with the hope that he understood there was nothing I needed to truly forgive him for. 

As quickly as he must’ve exited his car, he just as quickly re-entered it. With his voice and mine banned from speaking, the sound of the storm was almost loud enough to drown out the sound of Spencer’s car driving away before I’d even reached my door - almost. It was then that I turned over my shoulder to observe his yellow headlights glowing against the world’s grayness, but the warm yellow slowly disappeared behind his harsh red back lights as he drove off. The poignant red of his back lights was all the more a reminder that he was leaving me, and that I was alone. It was such an empty feeling. 

As I stood in the rain watching him drive away, I grew more and more disgusted with myself. I should’ve stopped him from leaving. I should’ve said everything I wanted to. 

Just then when I came to that very realization, a frigid gust of wind nearly knocked me over. Nature’s cruel irony had never been so apparent to me until this moment. 

You’ll understand why storms are named after people. 

And I was his. 

_ _ _ 

The Behavior Analysis Unit in Quantico is requesting your presence. The email read. 

There’s a name I hadn’t seen in a while - the B.A.U. It’d been what - almost a year now? I hadn’t seen or heard from Spencer since our poorly-ending-movie-date, hence why I bitterly laughed at my screen as I swirled a red sucker in my mouth. “As you wish, Your Highness.” 

Fully expecting to see my station - and only my station - when I leaned forward off my desk, I turned around only to be met with my station and something else. 

Or should I say someone else?

Because Spencer was there, too. 

“Spencer!” I nearly choked on the lollipop that was now loosely hanging from my mouth after my ceaseless coughs successfully dislodged it from my throat. He chuckled in pure amusement at my reaction. At last, when my cough subsided, I was finally able to croak out the question, “What are you doing here?” 

While I waited for his answer, I took his pause as an opportunity to really grasp him in his new form. His hair was much longer than I remembered it being, and it sure had a lot less hair gel, too. He also looked much better, and by that I mean, he didn’t read so much as an addict anymore. His appearance wasn’t untidy anymore, his fidgeting and anxiousness had withered away, and if I didn’t know any better, I think this was a good sign. 

He wasn’t addicted to whatever he was addicted to anymore. 

Of course, he answered my question before I had the chance to breach the subject. “I thought I saw a sign outside the door prohibiting food inside the lab.” 

His eyes turned to slits as a physical display of his sarcasm while he walked around the station to meet me on the other side but with a tantalizingly slow pace. With every word he said, he inched closer and closer until finally, we were so close that I could actually smell his cologne. “Unless, of course, I’m mistaken, and this lollipop is currently under examination.” 

It was unlawful how he could pull off saying something so nerdy. He had no right to sound as sexy as he did. 

“Ooh, yes. Talk dirty to me, Doctor.” I purred jokingly, pulling him in by the fabric of his tie. Even he couldn’t keep up his cool guy act in the face of my jest. He laughed before he could even think not to.

“You’re ridiculous,” He shook his head. “And a bad girl.”

Again - that should not have sounded as sexy as it did. 

“Is this how you fulfill your need for excitement? By sneaking suckers into your lair and breaking the rules.” His tone was thick with playful mockery, but the kind where it wasn’t as offensive as it was just to make fun.

“For your information - this job is plenty exciting enough as it is. Especially whenever a Doctor sneaks into my lab.” 

He caught the reference of himself but didn’t bother entertaining it with a laugh. He couldn’t keep his eyes on mine long enough to disguise the way he persistently stared. He was still too focused on the inner workings of my mouth and the candy. It was rather entertaining, if I do say so myself. I could even see the gears in his brain turning. He was clearly formulating something according to the display of squinted eyes and knitted brows. 

My suspicions were confirmed when all of a sudden, he firmly pinched my chin with his index finger and thumb to pucker my lips enough to create a small opening for him to successfully rob my mouth of the sweet. 

“Hey!” I whined. “I wasn’t done eating that!” 

Dominance gleamed in the sheen of his narrow eyes. He was enjoying this. “You are now.” 

My childish pout and grumpy expression asked him to tell me why. To which he answered, “Because we’ve got a flight to catch.” There were so many questions I had. We? A flight? Luckily, I needn’t verbalize them because he answered me anyway. 

“I rode on the jet to pick you up and take you back to Virginia.” 

I lightly scoffed, not actually believing what he was saying was true. “And how’d you manage that?” 

Though I was skeptical, Spencer went on to explain that the team needed me immediately, so they were willing to fly me to Virginia on the jet, but it would be best if one of them escorted me. Seeing as Spencer was more my equal than anyone else, they thought he would be the best flying companion - hence, the flight we were catching. It wasn’t until then that I actually believed him. 

Would you believe it if I told you we were up in the sky in less than 30 minutes? It’s almost as if this was their routine. I’d bet they had grown accustomed to the hectic energy and keeping up with the rush that their jobs demanded, but as a toxicologist, I was taught that taking my time was for the better. I had yet to get used to the fast pace of the B.A.U, which manifested itself in the worst form possible - fear of flying. 

Truthfully, I’d never actually been on a plane before, let alone a jet. I’m sure Reid could tell you a whole heck of a lot more about it, but common sense is that private jets are faster than regular commercial airlines. Jets are specifically built for speed and efficiency. Not to mention they fly at higher cruising altitudes to avoid airline air traffic. So currently flying on the jet meant that I’d entirely skipped the baby step of a regular plane ride that would’ve eased me into this experience - I was jumping right into the deep end. 

Leave it up to the profiler across from me to notice the way I clutched my seatbelt that I couldn’t trust would protect me, or the way I would grip the armrest when we inevitably experienced turbulence, or the deliberate avoidance of the view out the window so I wouldn’t have to confront the realization of just how high up we were. 

“Bad flyer?”

“Yes and no. Yes because I’m terrified of heights, and no, because I’ve never actually been on a plane before, so I haven’t been on enough flights to earn such a title,” my voice quivering as I spoke. 

His eyes widened with visible shock. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that he almost didn’t believe me. “You’ve never been on a plane before?”

“Never.” 

“Ever?”

“Never.” 

Something like a laugh escaped him. “Well you know what that means?” 

I couldn’t be bothered to entertain his mind games so I bluntly questioned, “No, what does it mean?” 

“A fear of flying indicates deep-rooted issues of control - or lack thereof. Do you like to be in control?” His words were testing me. He didn’t actually want to know if I liked being in control, he just wanted me to admit to my weakness. 

And it was somewhere in his teasing that a button must’ve been pressed because what I said next could only be the actions of someone who’d reached their breaking point - someone completely ruthless. “Well, you’re not so perfect yourself, Doctor. We still have yet to talk about the elephant in the room.” Again, I never handled things with much grace, but this by far - was something that I shouldn’t have touched with my tactless hands. 

Spencer wasn’t dumb - he knew what I was talking about, and he knew that I knew he would know what I was talking about, so luckily, he spared us the time and didn’t bother playing dumb. “Yeah, I know,” He bashfully whispered, making me feel all the more guilty about bringing it up. 

“I’m sorry,” I quickly apologized. “I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s just that I noticed you look a lot healthier since the last time I saw you, and I was gonna mention something to you about it in a much nicer way, but it just came out of my mouth right now.” 

“I am doing better. I quit completely 10 months ago.” He explained. (Oh, I stand corrected. It hadn’t been a year since I’d last seen him - just 10 months ago). “But, um . . .” 

Those two words alone were enough to make me prepare for the worst. 

“Recently, I saw this … this kid get shot in front of me,” His voice grew weary. “I thought I could save him, but I didn’t and he died. Right in front of me. And ever since then, I’ve been having - in the literature of the program - what they call ‘cravings’.”

I responded all too quickly, I knew that. I probably should’ve waited, came up with something more sympathetic, but instead, my brain went into autopilot and I asked the most unsympathetic thing you could possibly ask an addict. “Are you getting any help? Like from a professional. I’m not talking about meetings, I’m talking about -”

“Why do you do that?” He cut in. It wasn’t until I heard his voice interrupt my own that I looked at him and saw his countenance. He was pissed. “Why do you always try to fix me?”

This blow to my ego shattered my heart and hardened my defensiveness. “What? What are you talking about? I’m not trying to fix you.” 

He rose from his seat with such speed that I nearly got a head rush from it and couldn’t understand how he didn’t. 

“You’ve been trying to fix me since the day we met!” His voice boomed to a decibel I didn’t recognize. I’d never seen him so angry or so loud before. If I had to make a bet, the pilot could hear exactly what he’d just said - clear as day, as if he was sitting in the co-pilot’s seat right next to him.

With just as much rage, I unbuckled my belt, and for the first time in this entire plane ride, I stood up from my seat - just so I could be equal to him, to show him he shouldn’t dare try to talk down to me. Not after everything that I’ve felt for him.

“Oh, I’m sorry, would you rather I do what your team did? Just pretend your addiction didn’t exist? Walk on eggshells every hour I’m with you? Avoid and ignore every sign? I mean it worked out pretty well, right? Considering a year later, you're still having cravings.” I knew that I’d just crossed multiple lines with my blatant sarcasm, with my insulting of his team and insulting of him. I undoubtedly touched a nerve, but he visibly bit his tongue back before he said something he might regret. 

“Spencer, do you realize that this would be the reaction of anyone watching somebody they love struggle with addiction?” I could see a shift in his demeanor at one point during my sentence. His shoulders relaxed; something I said softened him, but I wouldn’t even come to realize what it was until he pointed it out later. With his silence taken as an allowance to continue, I added, “I pity you if you think that I’m overreacting, because really, I’m doing what everyone in your life should’ve been doing if they really cared about you.”

“You love me?” 

His question seemed so random, so out-of-the-blue, that I wondered where that was evening coming from. In the heat of our argument, I hadn’t even caught my own freudian slip.

“You said, ‘this would be the reaction of anyone watching somebody they love struggle with addiction.’ Are you saying you love me?”

It was probably the first time in this entire discussion that I actually paused to think, but all I could think to do was deflect. It was the only way to spare myself the humiliation. So without a better response, I asked, “So what if I do? That doesn’t change anything.”

“It changes a lot, (y/n).” 

“Oh, really - what does it change?” I challenged. 

“Now, I can finally do this.”

He pulled me in so fast I didn’t have time to think, let alone register that his lips had just collided with mine, or that I was consciously kissing him back. To deepen the kiss, he tilted his head to the side and even sneaked his tongue into my mouth when I parted my lips to breathe the air I was being deprived of. The lack of oxygen to my brain from the way he was swallowing me whole was enough to make me dizzy and lightheaded, and more than enough to make me lose all inhibitions. 

After a year, excuse me, after 10 months, of waiting for the kiss, of waiting for the right moment, or prolonging it while it simultaneously lingered over our heads, we finally kissed. At last, we released the anguish, the desire - everything. We were kissing like we’d never kissed before in our lives and were desperately anxious to know the feeling, and in some ways, that was sort of true. 

So if love really is an addiction, then consider me addicted.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

taglist: 

@rexorangecouny @criminal-jive @andiebeaword @annesauriol @nymeria-targaryen @shae2001bts @sweetboyspencer @archiveofadragon @inkstainedgirl 

[goindownshipping]

“You’re the only one I wanna wake up next to.” for whoever you'd like!

Hold me closer, please?

Pairing: Tony Stark/Steve Rogers (Stony)

Rating: Teen (T)

Notes: GAH! I loved this prompt, and my brain just ran with it. Thank you for being lovely and enabling me constantly, @ohwereusingourmadeupnames <3

Word count: ~4k

Summary: 

Tony can’t sleep and he hasn’t been able to for years. As much as he longs for the closeness of a relationship, he’s resigned himself to flings and one night stands, knowing they won’t want to put up with his screaming and tear-filled nights. That all changes when Steve Rogers enters the picture. Pure fluff ensues with these two softies.

Tony startled awake, finding his throat dry and eyes damp in the darkness of his room. Rolling to face his nightstand, his alarm clock notified him that it was still too early to be awake - 4am was certainly not a humane hour. Tilting his head to glance at the other side of his bed, he was grateful to find it empty, with little to no evidence of whoever he’d come home with just a few hours prior. For Tony, it was a relief to find his bed empty. After all these years, he still couldn’t sleep through the night and he dreaded the conversation that inevitably followed one of his terror stricken nights.

Tony’s anxiety-riddled mind often disturbed his sleep, making it nearly impossible for him to share a bed in any of his previous relationships. Pepper had stuck it out with him for as long as she could, but after too many nights waking up to Tony on the couch, they both decided they needed to move on from their relationship. His casual flings and one night stands made his inability to sleep with another human irrelevant; he could always count on them ducking out before the waking hours. His reputation was known in enough social circles that he didn’t have to worry about people sticking around or trying to get more from him than he was willing to give. 

Falling asleep and waking up together were intimate parts of a relationship that Tony had never been able to partake in. He yearned for that closeness, the soft, rumpled moments in those seconds you crossed over from sleeping into consciousness. He could imagine the warmth of another body next to him, holding him through his darkest moments. No matter how much he desired that closeness, his mind betrayed him too many times for him to believe it was possible. 

Accepting the fact that his mind was far too awake to let him get any more rest, Tony rolled out of bed and headed for the kitchen, deciding he may as well get his day started. As the comforting scent of coffee began to fill his apartment, he felt the sleepy fog start to drift away. The quiet, emptiness of his apartment typically offered comfort after a sleepless night, but this morning it only emphasized the loneliness he tried to bury deep beneath layers of charm and overconfidence. Deciding he couldn’t stick around his home office today, Tony decided to make a rare appearance at his favorite coffee shop down the street. 

Just over an hour later, Tony was out the door and pulling out of the parking garage into the early morning traffic in the city. The sun was just coming up and Tony was happy to be among the other early risers. He wondered how many people were also escaping their own minds or sleepless nights. He enjoyed these peaceful moments, watching the sky soften as the sun rose, casting shadows around the skyscrapers that filled the city.

When Tony arrived at the coffee shop, he was happy to see that there weren’t many patrons inside yet. He entered with his work bag, prepared to settle in for a few hours. The staff smiled at him, recognizing him despite his infrequent visits. With a mug of hot coffee and a fresh muffin in hand, Tony settled into a booth in the back corner of the shop, spreading out his materials for the morning.

Time passed around him as he worked through the shop’s morning rush. By the time he finished his coffee and pastry, he had made considerable progress on the blueprints in front of him. He hit a snag in one of his calculations and took that as his cue to stretch his legs and acquire more caffeine; he knew he drank too much of the stuff but he couldn't be bothered to care. He grabbed his phone as he headed to the front of the shop, scrolling through his emails quickly.

The shop had quieted down since the morning rush, so Tony didn’t anticipate the person waiting to order at the counter. He stopped short, nearly colliding with the man directly in front of him. He was facing the register, his back to Tony. Tony couldn’t help but admire the man’s broad shoulders, highlighted nicely by the navy suit jacket he was wearing. Tony could stop his eyes from wandering further down, noticing the man’s narrow waist and how his slim cut pants fit nicely. 

Tony shook his head to clear it as the man stepped aside, clearing a path for Tony to order his refill. He was grateful for the fact that the woman behind the counter already knew his order, as he completely lost his train of thought at the sight of the man’s face. He was tall enough that Tony had to tilt his head up to catch a glimpse of the stranger’s face. His dark blond hair was long and slightly floppy, but styled enough to be kept off his face. Tony’s gaze couldn’t help but linger on the man’s face, which was covered in a thick beard, only highlighting his strong cheekbones.

Tony caught himself staring, but not before the stranger did, smirking in Tony’s direction. Tony barely had the decency to blush before grabbing his coffee and running back to his table, effectively hiding away from the handsome man. A moment later, he heard the bell on the door jingle and he looked over his shoulder, expecting to see the man leaving the small shop. Instead, he saw a new customer entering and the attractive man settled at a table not far from Tony’s makeshift workstation. The man smiled in Tony’s direction and Tony whipped his head back around rather than acknowledging the gesture.

Tony was acting as if he’d never seen an attractive man before, which was certainly not the case. Usually, he was smooth and well-spoken, charming the pants off anyone he wanted, literally and figuratively. Tony wasn’t sure what it was about this man that rendered Tony incapable of anything but gawking at him. Lost in thought, Tony didn’t hear the man moving behind him, and before he could do anything to stop it, he was sliding into the seat opposite Tony.

The stranger smiled and stuck his hand out in greeting. Tony just stared, yet again incapable of anything else.

“I’m Steve,” the man said curiously, keeping his hand extended toward Tony.

Tony’s brain rapidly sprung into action, remembering how to interact with another human. He reached out to shake the stranger- Steve’s hand. His hand was large and warm, nearly swallowing Tony’s smaller one in a firm grip.

“I’m Tony, and I swear I’m not usually like this,” he admitted sheepishly.

“Like what, throwing heart eyes at a random stranger in a coffee shop?” Steve teased.

“Well, there’s only so much I can do when the random stranger has your shoulders and a beard like that,” Tony flirted shamelessly.

The next couple hours passed in a similar fashion, both men apparently forgetting the work they planned to accomplish that day. They chatted, equal parts learning about each other flirting. Tony learned that Steve was a columnist at a smaller paper in the city and taught journalism classes on the side. When he wasn’t researching, writing, or teaching, Steve spent too much time with his dog, who was very cute according to the several photos he proudly showed to Tony. Steve learned that Tony was indeed Tony Stark of Stark Industries, an up and coming robotics firm in the city. The blueprints littering the table were a glimpse into his next big project and Tony rambled on about technology that Steve only pretended to understand.

A while later, Steve’s phone rang, snapping both of them out of their little bubble. Steve smiled apologetically while standing to answer the call. Taking advantage of his privacy, Tony shook his head and ran a hand down his face. He hadn’t enjoyed a stranger’s company like this in years. His mind told him to run; he knew his track record and it would be safer to end this before anything could happen. In that moment, Steve returned to the table looking like a bashful puppy and any thoughts Tony had about disappearing flew out the window.

“That was work,” Steve said, his voice dripping with regret. “I’ve gotta run to the office”.

Tony only nodded at that, not wanting to give away his desire to see Steve again. Luckily Steve saved him from embarrassment.

“I’d really like to see you again though. Maybe without all this work in the way,” Steve gestured to the blueprints between them.

Tony grinned and nodded. “I’d like that a lot”.

They exchanged numbers and Tony watched Steve head out the door and turn down the street. He was about to round the corner, but before he disappeared from view, Steve looked back, grinning when he saw Tony watching him. Tony smiled back before returning to his work.

About a month later, Tony and Steve had gone out to dinner several times, grabbed coffee in the afternoons, and taken Steve’s unfairly cute dog for a few strolls around Central Park. If Tony thought Steve was cuter than his dog, nobody had to know. Tony knew that what they were doing undoubtedly counted as dating, but Tony wasn’t willing to call it that yet. They held hands when they walked and Steve kissed him on the cheek in greeting and when they said goodbye every time they saw each other. 

Tony told Rhodey about Steve when his best friend pressed him on why he was so happy all of a sudden. It went unsaid that Tony hadn’t had any houseguests recently either.

“You like him, then?” Rhodey questioned.

“Yeah, honeybear, I like him. I can’t decide if I want to tear his clothes off or bundle him up on the couch”.

Rhodey threw his head back in a loud laugh. “Wow Tones, you’ve got it bad. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this”.

Tony pouted at that. He knew Rhodey was right and he didn’t know what to do about it. It was always at this point in relationships when things started to go off the rails. Just last night he had another terror-filled sleep, resulting in sweat drenched sheets and tear soaked pillows.

Rhodey’s gaze softened, knowing exactly what was running through Tony’s head.

“Just talk to him Tony. Based on what you’ve told me, it sounds like he’s just as gone for you as you are for him”.

“You’re right”.

“I’m sorry, can I get that in writing? How about a recording?”

Tony laughed at that and shooed Rhodey out of his apartment. If he was going to have this conversation with Steve, it needed to happen soon.

Tony pulled his phone out to call Steve.

On the other side of the city, Steve sat at home working through the column he owed his editor the following week. He’d made some solid progress when his phone buzzed on his desk. Seeing Tony’s name (and silly face he managed to capture on a walk) made him smile.

“Hey Tones”.

Tony could hear the smile in Steve’s voice, causing him to melt just a bit.

“Hi Steve. I uh, I was wondering what you were doing for dinner tonight?”

“No plans pal, want to grab a bite somewhere?”

“Um actually, I was wondering if you might want to come over here for dinner?”

Tony had been to Steve’s apartment briefly on the days that they’d taken his dog for a walk, but otherwise, they hadn’t visited each other’s homes. Tony was especially protective of his space, and Steve knew this. The gravity of Tony’s invitation was not lost on him.

“That sounds really nice, Tony. What time should I be there?”

“How’s six?”

“Perfect, I’ll bring wine”.

“I’ll see you tonight, Steve”.

“See you soon, Tones”.

Steve ended the call and just stared at his phone for a moment. He knew Tony didn’t trust people easily. He and Tony had been seeing each other for a little over a month now and had yet to have a conversation about taking any next steps in their relationship. Tony had told Steve little bits about past relationships and hinted that he isn’t typically the relationship type. Steve didn’t know what to make of it at the time, but the more time he spent with Tony, the more he learned about him. Steve assumed it wasn’t that Tony didn’t want to be in a relationship, but that he'd been broken too many times to believe in them again. Steve hoped that tonight would open the door to something more, even if it was just a crack.

Determined to make more progress on his column, Steve directed his attention back to his computer as best he could. His mind was swirling with thoughts about Tony and all the things he wanted with him. Steve knew he was steadily falling for the man. Tony was brilliant, challenging, hilarious, and had a bigger heart than anyone gave him credit for. Steve only hoped that Tony could see himself that way, too.

A few hours later, Steve was grabbing a couple of bottles of wine and heading out the door to make it to Tony’s apartment by six. Tony had texted him his address and Steve was pleasantly surprised at their proximity to each other. When Steve arrived at Tony's building, he was surprised to see Tony himself waiting at the entrance.

Steve beamed at Tony; he was never one for subtlety. As he approached Tony, he could see the man practically vibrating with nervous energy. As soon as he was within arm’s reach, Steve reached for Tony and pulled him in for a hug. Tony’s arms wrapped around his waist and his face squeezed into the junction of his neck and shoulder. Steve could feel the harsh breath Tony let out as soon as he held him close.

“Hey you,” Steve whispered.

“Hi Stevie”.

“As much as I love holding you like this, do you think we should maybe head inside?” Steve asked softly, reluctant to let go of the man in his arms.

Tony pulled back with a blush, but Steve kept a hand on the small of Tony’s back, attempting to keep as much contact as he could. Tony nodded and turned toward the front door without a word.

They were silent as they moved through the lobby and came to a stop in front of the elevators. Once they were inside the car and Tony pressed the “PH” button, he finally spoke.

“I’m really happy you’re here,” he said in a rush, as if he had forced the words out of his mouth.

“I’m really happy I’m here too, Tony”.

Eventually, the elevator doors opened directly into an expansive foyer, with exposed beams and rustic chandeliers above them. Steve stepped out, taking in the vast apartment surrounding him. Tony started down the hallway and Steve followed, taking in the many paintings and photos lining the hallway. They entered a kitchen half the size of Steve’s entire apartment to find several dishes littered across the stove.

“I might not know how to make much, but what I can make is damn good,” Tony said as he checked a sauce of some sort on the stove.

Steve set the bottles of wine on the massive island in the center of the kitchen and followed Tony to the stove. Tony was surprised to feel Steve’s chest pressed against his back, his arms around his waist, and his nose pressed against the top of his head.

“This smells delicious Tony. Anything I can help with?”

Tony reluctantly pointed out the cabinets that held his dishes as well where his wine glasses were hanging. Steve gave him one last squeeze and a soft kiss to his hair before stepping away. Steve found his way around Tony’s kitchen easily, and Tony felt his heart squeeze at the comfortability of it all. 

Before long, they were serving themselves heaping plates of pasta and veggies and Steve poured them each a generous glass of red wine. Tony grabbed the food and led them through to the dining room, while Steve followed with their wine and what was left in the bottle.

Tony watched nervously as Steve took the first bite of food and smiled with relief when Steve groaned at the taste.

“Tony, you’ve been holding out on me. This is delicious,” Steve grinned across the table.

Tony only smiled shyly before digging in himself.

Dinner was a quiet affair, both men devouring their food and enjoying their wine. They exchanged quiet words about the projects they were working on and Steve rambled about some new toy he’d gotten for his dog.

When they’d both cleaned their plates and finished the bottle of wine, Steve paused. Tony seemed to sense his confidence wavering, which was uncommon for Steve. 

“I saw that second bottle of wine, don’t think I’m kicking you out without sharing it first,” Tony admitted.

“Ha, my plan worked,” Steve teased.

Tony only shook his head. “Come on, we can dump these in the sink and watch a movie”.

Steve nodded gratefully and headed back into the kitchen with Tony, happy to spend more time with the man that was quickly stealing his heart and occupying the majority of his thoughts. They set their plates and silverware in the sink before grabbing the second bottle of wine and heading into the living room. Both men stood in the entryway to the room, Steve waiting for Tony’s lead to see how the man wanted to proceed. Tony eventually stepped down onto the soft carpet and made his way to the large plush sofa in the center of the room. He situated himself near the center of the couch and patted the cushion next to him, making it clear where he expected Steve to settle.

Steve stepped into the room, wine in hand, and made his way toward Tony. As soon as he settled on the couch he opened the bottle of wine, refilling each of their glasses. He was grateful for the distraction, not trusting his hands so close to Tony. Once the glasses were full, he grabbed them both and settled back into the couch. He lifted one toward Tony who took it happily before settling into Steve’s side. Steve wrapped his arm firmly around Tony, reveling in the closeness and willing the other man to melt into his side the way he’d been desperate for for weeks. 

Tony was stiff for a brief moment, but as soon as Steve squeezed his shoulder, urging him to come in closer, Tony gave in. His head came to rest on Steve’s shoulder and his entire form curled around Steve’s firm body. Steve hummed with pleasure, finally having this man closer than ever before.

Reaching to the side, Steve set his glass down on the table next to the couch; he wanted both arms available to wrap Tony up. When Tony noticed, he glanced up at Steve, and the bearded man’s resolve broke in an instant. 

Both of Steve’s hands came to rest on Tony’s cheeks, angling his face further up so Steve could take in all of his features. His hair was soft and unstyled, natural curls falling on his forehead. His eyes were wide and curious taking in Steve’s every move. His lips were slightly parted, tongue sneaking out to wet them the moment Steve’s eyes dipped down to them. At that, Steve lunged forward, pressing his lips against Tony’s before either man could think long enough to question the action. 

Tony immediately reciprocated and reached forward to weave his free hand through the long strands of hair on top of Steve’s head. Steve moaned at that, and Tony took the opportunity to softly explore Steve’s mouth with his tongue. Steve tasted like wine and tomatoes, an admittedly odd combination, but Tony couldn’t stop. Their lips and tongues continued to explore each other until Steve had to pull back for a deep breath. He kept Tony close, pressing their foreheads together as they each panted against each other.

“Tones,” Steve groaned.

“I know Stevie. I’m sorry that took so long,” Tony apologized.

Steve leaned in to press a quick kiss to Tony’s lips. “Never apologize for that, babe”. Steve couldn’t help the endearment as it slipped from his lips, but Tony only seemed to preen in response.

“Let’s find something to watch,” Tony said softly. As much as he wanted to continue down the path they started, he knew he wasn’t ready for much more.

Steve resettled himself with his arm around Tony’s shoulders, keeping the smaller man as close as he could manage. Tony grabbed the remote and pulled up Netflix before deciding on the newest original movie they’d released. Before either man could settle any further, Steve detached himself from Tony and laid down along the couch, his back pressed against the back cushions. He left plenty of space in front of him and looked at Tony expectantly.

“Can I just hold you for a bit, please?” He asked shyly.

Tony blushed bright red, feeling the warmth spread from his cheeks down past the collar of his shirt. He nodded quickly and settled down with his back pressed to Steve’s front. Steve’s left arm came to rest over his waist while his right arm settled under Tony’s cheek as if it were a pillow. Tony had never enjoyed the feeling of being held as he did in that moment.

Steve loved the feeling of having Tony in his arms. His entire body was pressed into his own, not an inch of space left between them. He nuzzled into Tony’s neck, unable to get enough of the man’s scent. Tony shivered while he pressed play on the movie, hoping to distract them both for at least a few minutes.

Less than halfway through the movie, Steve could hear Tony snuffling softly into his arm, clearly fast asleep. In an attempt not to wake him, Steve reached for the remote and shut the television off. Tony shifted in his sleep, and awoke enough at the sudden silence in the room.

“Mm Stevie, what time is it”

“It’s late sugar. Let me get you to bed”.

Tony froze at that. Suddenly he was wide awake and terrified at the prospect of Steve entering his bedroom. Before he could think better of it, he was stammering out words that hardly made any sense.

“I, I can’t sleep with you. I can’t sleep with anyone,” Tony rushed out.

Steve paused, not wanting to startle the man in his arms.

“Okay Tony, we don’t have to do anything. Just let me help you to your room”.

Tony’s mind cleared momentarily. Steve was still here after all the truths he’d shared over the past several weeks. Steve knew some of his deepest insecurities and Tony was sure Steve could sense the amount of hurt he’d been through over the years. Despite his inability to communicate and commit, Steve was still here, willing to take care of him and care for him. 

“No,” Tony argued. “I want you here. I just can’t sleep with anyone here. Haven’t been able to for years”. Tony let out a deep breath, grateful that Steve hadn’t tried to interrupt. “I get these nightmares sometimes, I don’t wanna wake you”.

“Oh, honey. You think a nightmare could keep me away from you? Come on, let’s get comfy and we’ll take it one step at a time”.

To Steve’s surprise, Tony agreed, nodding and getting to his feet. Steve stood and followed Tony down the hall to the master bedroom. As Tony entered his room, he stripped down to his boxers without much thought and crawled straight into bed. Steve stood in the doorway, unsure of what Tony wanted him to do. As much as he wanted to crawl right in next to Tony, Steve knew this was a slippery slope for the two of them.

Cracking an eye open, Tony looked up at Steve.

“Why are you still standing there baby?”

Steve’s heart absolutely stopped at that. Tony’s soft sleepy voice combined with the sweet pet name absolutely ruined him. Without much thought, Steve followed Tony’s lead and stripped down to his boxers before slipping under the covers. 

Tony turned to face him and settled a hand on Steve’s cheek.

“I might wake up screaming. Or crying. Or both usually, if I’m being honest”.

“What do you want me to do if that happens?”

“Just hold me when I wake up. Please don’t leave if you wake up before I do. I hate waking up alone after a nightmare and you’re the only one I wanna wake up next to”.

“Oh sweetheart, I promise I’ll be right here”.

Tony pressed a quick kiss to Steve’s lips before whispering a soft goodnight. He rolled over, pressing the backline of his body to Steve’s front, revelling in the feeling of Steve’s arms holding him close.

When he inevitably woke up with a scratchy throat and tear stained face, he was grateful for the warm, steady arms around him. He rolled over in Steve’s embrace, pressing his face into Steve’s chest, attempting to burrow himself even closer. Steve mumbled soft words into his ear, easing him back to sleep. 

“I’m here baby, I’ve got you. You’ll always be safe with me, I promise, love. Go back to sleep sweet thing”. 

Tony hummed in reply. As he drifted back to sleep he realized that he’d never been incapable of this closeness with another human. Despite the fact that all his previous relationships convinced him otherwise, all he needed was the right person to hold him close and keep him safe.

Steve’s strong arms and soft words were enough to lull him back to sleep, but not before he whispered softly, “please never let go”.

Tony was fast asleep when Steve replied, “I’m never letting go baby”.

[smooshjames]

forget you not (i)

you returned and the wall comes falling down (or: welcome back to la)

word count: a little over 4k

a/n: friends, quarantine has been good for one thing and one thing only: spurring me to write 20,000 words of shayne topp fanfic. it’s five parts and it’ll be updated (probably?) weekly. maybe more often if a lot of people like it. the premise is that the reader (hey that’s you) is in a band (which is based off of little mix; if you’re unfamiliar you should check them out here because they’ve never written a bad song ever) and uhhh things happen. i didn’t write any of the songs mentioned herein; here are links to the songs mentioned this chapter (x, x)

warnings: a metric fuck-ton of angst, this isn’t gender neutral (reader is referred to with she/her pronouns) so there’s that, reader is also implied to have anxiety but i never use the word directly (idk if that’s a necessary warning but it didn’t fit anywhere else)

Shayne knew something was up the second Courtney rounded the corner. He was sitting at his desk working on some ideas for possible upcoming videos, but he glanced up when he noticed the blonde entering. She cast a quick glance around the room, looking for somebody, and then she made eye contact with Shayne and did that thing she did when she was up to no good: a slight narrowing of the eyes, a slight upturn of the lips. She squared her shoulders and began marching directly toward him.

Great.

“Mr. Topp,” she said once she was within earshot of him. She rounded his desk and leaned back against it, folding her arms over her chest. “I have a proposition for you.”

Great.

Shayne sat back in his chair and nodded.

“I bought concert tickets for this Saturday for me and a friend,” she began. “But my friend just canceled on me -- family emergency -- and now I’ve got no one to go with. I already asked a bunch of other people and they’re already busy. I got these tickets months ago and they’re really good tickets so they were super fucking expensive and I feel shitty just… throwing one away. So I was hoping you would go with me.”

There was a moment of silence as Shayne considered. He was pretty sure he knew what the tickets were for; Courtney had been into some girl group lately. It probably wasn’t his first pick for a concert, but he was free on Saturday and he could tell Courtney really wanted someone to come with her. Plus, he was never one to turn down a free concert ticket.

“Yeah, sure,” he said. It would be good for him to get out of the house, at least. “Why not?”

Courtney grinned and clapped her hands together. “Great! I got a really good deal on VIP tickets so there’s a photo op beforehand. I’ll text you the address, be there at five o’clock on the dot.”

Shayne nodded and smiled over his shoulder as Courtney retreated back to her own desk. With her gone, he turned back to his laptop and got back to work, considering his new weekend plans as he did so.

The band probably wasn’t his first pick, sure, but going to a concert with Courtney could never be boring. And it would sure as hell be better than sitting at his apartment alone all night. So, all things considered, he was pretty excited.

***

It had been a long time since you’d been in LA.

You’d been on-edge all day; jittery, standoffish. Being back in this city was a blessing and a curse. This was the place where you had discovered your love of music and started your career, but it was also the place where you’d suffered the worst heartbreak of your life.

It didn’t help that you’d gotten up at four o’clock that morning.

You and your bandmates had spent most of the day doing press before making your way to the venue of your concert -- not the biggest concert hall LA had to offer, but certainly not the smallest, which was bittersweet in your mind. The decently-sized venue meant you were succeeding and moving up in the world. It also meant a decently-sized paycheck. But, on the downside, it meant that the crowd would be one of the biggest you’d ever performed for. More people meant more eyes watching your every move, scrutinizing you, noticing if you did something wrong. That filled you with dread.

You took a deep breath in the dressing room mirror, trying to convince yourself that everything would be okay. In five minutes, the meet and greet/photo op for people with VIP tickets would begin. You looked stunning; black and white leotard, thigh-high boots, and a faux fur coat which would definitely cause you to overheat under the stage lights. Your makeup and hair were done up to perfection.

You were photo-ready by all accounts except your own. You couldn’t stop fidgeting with your outfit, your hair, your accessories, trying in vain to make yourself look perfect. You could never quite seem to get there.

You were startled out of your thoughts by the sound of the dressing room door opening. One of your bandmates and best friends, Carly, entered the room. She was dressed in a black-and-white outfit to match the theme, but hers consisted of high-waisted leather pants and a crop top. Her makeup was the same as yours.

“Hey,” she said, voice soft. Carly had been your friend since before the band started, and thus she knew about what had happened last time you were in LA. You didn’t like to talk about it much, partly because it made you upset and partly because you didn’t see the point in dwelling on it. It had been years ago. It was stupid to be upset about it, and yet here you were. And Carly knew because you told Carly everything, even the stupid things.

You didn’t say anything in response to her greeting. You just flashed her a tight smile and checked yourself one last time in the mirror. You took a deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth, trying to calm your nerves. You decided that you’d have to face the music sooner or later.

“We’re all ready when you are, buttercup,” Carly said. You smiled at the sound of her nickname for you. “How’re you feeling?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you replied. And then you followed her out of the dressing room.

The photo op room was pretty simple. A small room half taken up by a simple white backdrop, half taken up with lights and camera equipment. There were four stools set out for you and your bandmates. The fans would come in through a door to the band’s left, talk for a couple of minutes, take their picture, and exit out the door to the band’s right. From there, they would go to their seats in the concert hall.

All you had to do was stand there, be friendly, smile for pictures. Easy.

And for the first hour or so, it was. You met countless fans and had wonderful conversations with them. A couple of them talked to you specifically about how important and inspiring you were to them, which honestly had you a little bit speechless.

You finished up your conversation with a group of teenage girls all decked out in tour merch, smiled for your picture, and waved to them as their chaperone (one of the girls’ moms, you assumed) led them out.

With the door shut behind them, you heard the door to your left open and the next group be admitted. A girl of average height rounded the backdrop, smiling brightly. She was pretty, you noted; thin, with shoulder-length blonde hair and delicate features. She had her hand wrapped around someone’s wrist, and when your gaze lifted from their wrist to their face, your heart nearly stopped beating.

Shayne.

You knew that Carly realized it was him at the same moment you did because you felt her stiffen beside you. You groped blindly for a stool and sat down on it, forcing yourself not to bolt out of the room. It seemed that he hadn’t noticed you yet.

Carly took a step backward so she could put an arm around your shoulders. If you didn’t know any better, you wouldn’t have thought anything of it. Everyone knew you and Carly were best friends (there were even quite a few people out there who suspected you were a couple). But you knew that she was trying to ground you in reality, and for that, you were profoundly grateful.

You were also impressed with Carly’s acting ability at that moment because even as her entire body went rigid, her smile didn’t waver for a millisecond. The girl introduced herself as Courtney and began talking excitedly to Alexis, one of your other bandmates, and she seemed to be none the wiser to the sudden tension in the room.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from Shayne even despite your best efforts to look at Courtney, or Carly, or Matt the photographer, or even the floor. He had grown up a lot since you saw him last, and he looked good. Seeing him again was bringing up all the conflicted feelings you’d been keeping locked inside your chest for the past five years, and you were pretty sure you were going to explode.

For the first few seconds, he wasn’t looking at the band; he turned around the room, looking at the lighting and equipment. You figured, based on the fact that you didn’t really sing Shayne’s type of music, and based on the way Courtney had been holding onto his wrist when they walked in, that it hadn’t been his idea to come to this concert.

You also figured they were probably dating, which made the revolt currently happening in your gut that much worse.

Time screeched to a halt as Shayne turned back around from inspecting the lighting equipment and immediately made direct eye contact with you. His eyes went wide and his jaw dropped slightly. Suddenly, you couldn’t hear what Courtney -- who had now moved on to talking to Piper, your fourth bandmate -- was saying. The ringing in your ears was too loud. A strangled sound was pulled out of your throat and you covered it with a loud, abrupt cough. When you looked back, Shayne seemed to be looking anywhere but your face.

And then Courtney made her way over to you. 

She was just another fan, you told yourself. Just another fan, not your ex’s new girlfriend. Just another fan, not a girl who was definitely prettier and funnier and smarter than you, who Shayne probably loved more than he’d ever loved you. Just another fan, not the girl who got to hold him at night while you slept alone in a cold hotel bed.

“Y/N!” she squealed. You swallowed hard and forced a smile onto your face. She seemed really nice, and you hated yourself for hating her. From the way she was acting, you figured that she probably didn’t know who you were. At least, who you were to Shayne. “Can I hug you? I know that’s super forward but you’re, like, my favorite singer in the whole world and I’ve been counting down the minutes until I got to meet you!”

Carly stiffened beside you again, but you ignored her. Piper and Alexis seemed to have caught on by now that something was wrong; they didn’t know who Shayne was, but they knew when you were faking a smile, and they knew that whenever Carly got protective over you, something was wrong.

Doing your best not to think about it, you nodded enthusiastically. “Of course!” you said. You slid off your stool and closed the distance between the two of you, wrapping her up in a hug. There was one awful moment when your feet hit the ground that you thought your knees wouldn’t support you, but you managed to stay upright despite the fact that your bones were turning into Jell-O. You squeezed your eyes shut and pretended you were hugging Carly, Piper, literally any other human being on the planet. As soon as she pulled back, you sat back down, not trusting yourself to stand unsupported.

“Okay, picture time,” Matt said.

Courtney nodded and got over onto your right side, slinging her arm around your shoulders and beaming for the picture. Shayne took his place between Piper and Alexis.

Matt snapped a few photos and then Courtney and Shayne were ushered out of the room by one of the crew people, and it was like you could breathe again. You collapsed against Carly like a house of cards. You were fairly sure that without her there to hold you somewhat upright, you would’ve fallen off your stool and into a heap on the ground. You felt your hands start to shake and you cursed yourself for it, hated yourself for the way your throat constricted with tears.

You heard Piper ask Matt if the band could have a moment of privacy, heard the door shut as he left the room, but it was distant and muffled, like your head was underwater. You pushed yourself away from Carly and gulped in air, trying to remember how to breathe, trying desperately not to vomit.

Carly let you sit up on the stool on your own, keeping just one hand on your arm as support. She knew you well enough to know that you needed a little bit of space to breathe and get your bearings. Alexis and Piper had walked over now, forming a protective huddle around you. You curled in on yourself slightly, crossing your arms over your stomach and staring down at your knees, trying to focus on breathing.

“We need to talk.”

A bolt of panic flashed through you. Shayne had just gotten home, and he was being oddly distant. You asked him how his day was and got no reply, which was strange. For a few minutes, though, you were able to rationalize it; maybe he’d just had a rough day and didn’t want to talk about it.

But then you heard those dreaded four words, and for just a moment the world stopped turning. Your hands trembled slightly as you put your bookmark in the book you were reading and leaned forward to set it safely on the coffee table. You put on the most neutral, unaffected face you could and turned around to face him. He was leaning up against your kitchen island with his back to you. His head was bowed slightly and you could see the tension he was holding in his shoulders.

“What’s up, babe?” you asked. All things considered, you actually managed to sound somewhat normal. You’d been half-expecting your voice to come out as a strained squeak, and half-expecting it to not come out at all. The fact that you’d managed a coherent sentence was a triumph in and of itself.

“This isn’t working anymore.”

There it was. The fear you’d had since day one. The thing that kept you awake long after he’d fallen asleep. He had gotten tired of you, finally realized he was better off without you, that he could do better than you. You felt tears welling up in your eyes but managed by some miracle to hold them back. A question flashed through your mind unbidden; had he already found someone else?

“What?” you asked, hoping against hope that you’d heard him wrong.

He turned to face you now, and his expression was unreadable. His eyes were stony, narrowed, distant. For a moment, you almost didn’t recognize him. You were used to Shayne as he always was; open, gentle, all warm gazes and goofy grins. In all the time you’d known him, he’d never been hard for you to read. But now he was and that was terrifying.

“I can’t be with you,” he said. He didn’t even sound upset; no anger, no sadness. He was just… resigned, passive, like he felt nothing all. Like there was nothing you could do or say to change this. Like it was inevitable.

You shook your head, mouth slightly agape, completely dumbfounded. You were trying to think of something to say, something poetic and beautiful that would make him reconsider, but your brain was making dial-up noises trying to compute what he was saying, and suddenly all the words in the English language escaped you entirely.

“I’m sorry,” he said. And he shrugged.

You didn’t cry, which took an impressive level of self-control on your end. No, you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry. If he wanted this, fine. If he felt nothing, fine. Then you felt nothing either.

Without a word, you went into the bedroom and threw some clothes into a bag. You grabbed your laptop. You walked into the bathroom to pack the essential toiletries.

Shayne didn’t move a muscle. He stood stock-still in the middle of your living space, staring at the place where you’d been sitting.

Finally, with your bag packed, you walked back into the living room and picked up your phone, keys, and wallet. You also tucked the book you’d been reading into your bag. “I’ll be back in a couple days to get the rest of my stuff,” you said. “You can keep all the furniture. Stay in the apartment if you want. I’m going to Carly’s.”

“That’s it?” he asked. He was staring at you, brows furrowed, voice strained.

You narrowed your eyes, confused and a little angry. “This is what you want, isn’t it? You just said that this isn’t working anymore. Am I supposed to fight? You want our last conversation to be a screaming match? I’ve been in this situation before, Shayne. There’s nothing I can say to change your mind. Better I leave now before we both say shit we regret.”

“I --” he began, but you were already gone.

“That was her ex,” you heard Carly say, and you realized that Piper had asked what was wrong. “He… well, there’s a lot of history there.”

Alexis and Piper both murmured sympathetically. You all had your share of shitty exes and love-related experiences; you’d all written your share of songs about it, that much was certain. Shayne was no exception there, but you were almost certain he didn’t know about your music. He had seemed just as surprised as you were when he saw you.

“Hey, sweetheart,” a new voice caused you to look up from your hunched position. Michelle, your manager, was standing there with a water bottle and a sympathetic look on her face. You took the water from her and smiled gratefully, not trusting your voice. “There are only a few fans left in line and then you’ve got some time between the photo op and mic check, okay?

“Maybe we should tell them that Y/N’s not feeling well --” Alexis began, but you held up a hand to stop her.

“I’m fine,” you said. You took a long drink of water and straightened up, put on a brave face. “I can tough it out through the last few groups. I will not disappoint people who paid money to see me, especially not over a boy.”

“That’s my girl,” Carly said, squeezing your arm before letting her hand drop back to her side. Michelle nodded and went to let the next group in. Matt the photographer reentered.

You smiled through the rest of the meet and greet, and it seemed like the fans were none the wiser. Finally, the last ones left and you felt your shoulders relax. You felt better now that some time had passed between seeing Shayne, still shaken up but far less nauseous.

“Mic check is at 6:30,” Michelle said once the last group was gone. “It’s just after six now so you’ve got a little under a half-hour to finish getting ready for the show. Take a breather, Y/N,” she said. You couldn’t help but laugh a little at that; Michelle was your manager, but she was also essentially the group’s mom while you guys were on the road. She kept you guys on schedule and on task, but always made sure your health was a priority as well. She was a godsend.

Carly, Alexis, and Piper led you back to the dressing room, where you immediately sank down into one of the armchairs in the back corner. It was half-hidden behind your costume rack, but that was alright; it was the most comfortable chair in the room, and you didn’t have to look at yourself in the mirror while you sat in it.

“I have an idea,” Carly said. You raised an eyebrow at the tone of her voice and the look on her face; that little smirk was never good. “Why don’t we sing Towers? You wrote it about him, didn’t you?”

You sighed. She was right; you had written a lot of songs about him, or at least with him in mind, and Towers was one of them. “I don’t know…” you said. On the one hand, it sounded really good. Towers was, in your opinion, one of the best songs you’d ever written, so you knew the fans would love it. And it was sort of a golden opportunity, right? When else would you get to sing one of the songs you’d written about him, one of the last songs you’d written about him, in a forum where you could be sure he’d hear it?

But on the other hand, it felt cruel. Your relationship had ended in fucking flames, but it hadn’t been entirely his fault. You had done things wrong, too, and it would be childish for you to ignore that. Besides, he had clearly moved on. You didn’t want to be the one dwelling on the past and singing a song from five years ago to a boy who was already ten miles past over you.

But on the other other hand, he’d probably never even heard the song before. He wouldn’t know that you specifically had written it, and he wouldn’t know that it was about him. Maybe singing it knowing he could hear would be the thing you needed to finally get closure. He didn’t have to actually know it was about him; you just had to convince yourself that he did. And then maybe your heart would finally put the years you’d spent together to rest. You took a deep breath.

“Okay,” you said. “When’s a good time to slot it in?”

The rest of the band giggled excitedly and began pitching ideas for when it would be the best time to sing the song. You did your best to settle your nerves, still frayed from seeing Shayne and now renewed with the idea of singing this song in front of him. But you were ready. In fact, you were excited.

You just hoped it didn’t blow up in your face.

***

Shayne was pretty sure his fucking lungs were collapsing.

Courtney was talking animatedly as she led him to their seats -- which were, of course, right up against the front of the stage -- but his brain wasn’t processing any of her words. He just mumbled his approval occasionally; yeah, the blonde’s outfit was really pretty, sure, they were all so nice. He desperately wanted to get out of this arena. He considered feigning a stomach ache and going home, but he’d feel like an asshole if he did. He certainly didn’t want to tell Courtney the truth for fear of ruining the concert (or, even worse, the band as a whole) for her. He had no way out; he’d have to suck it up and get through the concert. Once it was done, then he could go home and scream into his pillows to his hearts content.

He was so taken up by the whirlwind of emotions, thoughts, and memories running through his head that he almost slammed into Courtney as she stopped short, evidently having found their seats. He caught himself just in time to avoid hitting her, luckily, but not in time to avoid her noticing that something was up. “You okay?” she asked. Damn her and her perceptiveness.

“Uh, yeah,” he said. “Just, um… I’m gonna run to the bathroom. I’ll meet you back here.”

She nodded, and he barely even heard her little “okay” before he was walking quickly up the aisle toward the exit. He felt his throat spasming around tears and gritted his teeth against the sensation. He refused to cry. It had been years. He should’ve been over this.

He made his way toward the men’s bathroom and felt relief flood his system when he discovered it empty. He supposed it was still over an hour before the show started; the only people here were the arena crew, the band’s people, and the VIP ticket holders.

Shayne braced himself against the sink counter and gave himself a long, hard look in the mirror. All things considered, he looked alright. His eyes were a little red but he didn’t look like he’d been crying, and his breathing was coming a little more evenly now that he had the time to collect himself.

He just hadn’t been expecting to see you, that was all. It definitely wasn’t that some part of him was still in love with you, that he was kicking himself for letting you get away, and that seeing you in person had brought back every ounce of self-loathing over what had happened. No, it wasn’t that; he’d just been caught off guard. You had seemed pretty stricken yourself, if your widened eyes and shallow breathing had been any indication. His chest tightened at the notion that he may have caused you any anxiety or pain before you had to perform, especially on top of the damage he had already done so long ago.

Breathe, Shayne. Just breathe.

He nodded at himself in the bathroom mirror and went to rejoin Courtney. The whole time, he was desperately trying to convince himself that he would just enjoy the concert. He resolved to ignore the fact that it was you up there singing and dancing (and wearing an insanely revealing costume that hugged your curves in all the right places). He could still have fun.

He would still have fun.

[avengersassemble-fics]

Fine Line

part 03/?? “i carry it with me”

masterlist

previous part // next part

word count 4k

an: ugh i love sam/bucky interactions. my two doofuses

The quiet humming sound filtered from the small white bathroom and filled the halls of the rather empty apartment. There in the white porcelain bathroom hair flowed down through the air and into the sink, until the skin beneath was stubbled and clear. The humming sound finally came to a stop, leaving a silence in the air that was quite normal for this empty space. Bucky wiped his face clean with a warm moist washcloth and looked up to meet his own gaze in the mirror. He couldn’t help but run his hand over the softer shaven hair on his face, or the now short hair on the back of his neck. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw himself like this.

There was a soft ping that rang from the back of his jeans, and Bucky reached behind him to grab his phone. He swiped open the device and read the message from Sam, and rolled his eyes at the joking message before shoving the phone back into his pocket. He took special care in washing the hair down the sink and tossed the moist washcloth into the hamper before he walked into the hallway and his phone started to ring insistently. Bucky rolled his eyes, and pulled the phone from his back pocket, and put it up to his ear.

“What do you want, Sam?” He asked, making his way down the hallway to his room.

“Good morning, Sunshine,” Sam’s voice rang in his ear, but Bucky just sighed. “C’mon man, it’s New Years Eve.”

“I’m not interested in whatever you have planned, Sam,” Bucky told him. He could practically hear the eye roll on the other end of the line.

“Look man, you gotta come out and readjust to the world,” Sam started to explain while Bucky dug around his drawer for a shirt. “You won’t come to group meetings, you won’t go and see a professional, so why not just go out with me tonight? Nothing too big, let’s just go get some drinks and chill for a bit. Who knows when we’ll get another chance like this.”

Bucky gripped a black long sleeved shirt in his fist and fell silent after Sam spoke. He could hear the light chatters of someone on the other end, and Bucky sighed.

“Fine.” He caved in, and could tell his friend was grinning ear to ear on the other end. “But I swear to God, Sam, if I have to carry your drunk ass home-”

“That was one time!” Sam called out on the other end.

“Yeah, one time too many pal,” Bucky rolled his eyes as he spoke. “Just tell me where to meet you.”

“I’ll hit you up later,” Sam ended, and the beeping of the line closed the call. Bucky placed the phone on the dresser and pulled the black shirt over his body. He instinctively rubbed a hand over his shorter hair when another vibration came through on his phone, and he smiled at this notification in particular.

Now that Bucky could put a face to the words he read everyday, and the voice and laugh that still echoed in his mind, he knew he was in over his head. There was no question about it now. The more time he spent in the city the more he looked for you amongst the crowds. Sam had started to take notice when he’d pass by the cafe you populated days earlier and Bucky would slow his stroll to steal a look inside. He then stole his phone and found your contact information. Sooner or later, Bucky would get him back for that. For everything.

After the phone call, it became easier to text one another instead of using the website. But one thing he hadn’t done since that night was call you again. In all honesty, Bucky didn’t know if he would be able to handle hearing that sweet laced voice once more without caving and offering again to meet. Meet for real that is, not just watch you from across the street like.. Well like a spy.

So when your name came up in his texts, he was quick to open the message and read over your words anxiously.

You: NYE always brings out the most obnoxious people sometimes! It’s barely 10 and everything has booze in it.

Bucky chuckled at your words. This was his first New Years since his demise all those years ago. Truthfully, you were right. The parties back in his day were nothing compared to now. The pomp and circumstance was one of the main reasons he did not want Sam to drag him into public tonight. Even the couple of days leading up to now were too much for him. Bucky pressed the text box and began to type away.

Bucky: I don’t even want to imagine what tonight is going to be like, probably 10x as crazy

You: Wait a second hold on, you’ve never seen the ball drop in Times Square?

Bucky chortled to himself as he eased himself onto the edge of his bed.

Bucky: Can’t say I have doll, there’s a first for everything right?

You: Can’t wait to see your reaction haha!

Though you were just joking with him, Bucky frowned at the idea. He hoped to God Sam didn’t have any tricks up his sleeve tonight - though he had yet to see it happen live, he did look up clips from the previous years. The crowds were massive, and what was everyone doing kissing when the clock hit zero?

Bucky: Do you have plans tonight?

You: My sister is dragging me out again somewhere, but it’s top secret apparently.

Bucky: Hopefully in a part of town you’re allowed in.

You: You have jokes today I see.

Bucky: Has it made you smile yet?

A dangerous question. Bucky eagerly watched the three dots that hopped as you typed back a reply.

You: Yes, but that’s besides the point!

Bucky: Nope that’s all I needed to know, doll.

You: Yeah yeah whatever, jokester. Doing anything fun tonight?

Bucky: Just drinks with a buddy of mine.

You: Just two old men having a night out on the town huh?

Bucky: Look who has jokes now!

You: Take what you dish, old man.

Bucky chuckled to himself. You had started to resort to calling him old man regardless of your knowledge of him. Of course it was all in a joking manner, but you chalked it up to his use of the word doll. You said it sounded like something used in the 50’s (it probably was, but he wouldn’t know), and he had asked if it made you uncomfortable at all. Based off the look on your face the night he called and dropped the word a few times, he hoped the answer was no. And you reassured him of that in a message to answer his question.

Bucky: Try not to spit on yourself tonight.

You: You’ll never let me live that down, will you?

Bucky: Not a chance, doll.

The day carried on as most of his normally did. Alone in his apartment, some tunes filled the empty rooms in a low hum, and he either read, wrote in his journal, or texted back to you. This was how he preferred to spend his days. No missions, no life or death situations, no alien invasions, just the sound jazz in the background and.. You.

So this? This was not what Bucky wanted to do.

When Sam opened up the door to the bar, Bucky nearly choked him then and there. People adorning commemorative hats flocked everywhere, and they all greeted Sam like they knew him. Sam shook hands, slapped people over the shoulder, and smiled at a couple of dames.

Bucky was going to murder this man one day.

“Sam,” he warned when he finally got his companion on his own. “What the fuck is this?”

“I’m sorry I lured you here under false pretenses, but the group I’m with wanted to do something together,” Sam explained as he was handed two beers from the bartender. “Come on, man.. Just have a couple drinks with me, and if you want to leave - you can.”

Sam offered Bucky the bottle of alcohol and Bucky shook his head while he retrieved it. “I’m never trusting you again, I hope you know that.”

“I’m shocked and upset, truly,” Sam said and rolled his eyes. Bucky grumbled and rested on a barstool next to his disgraceful friend.

“So tell me,” Sam took a sip of his beer and pursed his lips and tossed a glance Bucky’s way. “When are you planning on meeting this girl? Sorry, officially meeting this girl?”

“Don’t think I ever will,” he answered honestly. Bucky took a swig from the bottle in his hand, even though he knew it wasn’t going to do much. “We’re in a dangerous line of work, Sam.”

Sam shook his head and motioned over to him. “That’s just an excuse.”

“No, it’s a fact,” Bucky replied. “We’re hunting the man who killed the King of Wakanda, you’re telling me that isn’t dangerous?”

“I never said that,” Sam replied and took a sip from the beer in his hands. “I said it’s an excuse. Barton has made it work, Stark did, God rest his soul. You’re obviously smitten with her.”

“Smitten,” Bucky lulled over the world. “And you call me old fashion.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam said with a roll of his eyes. “That’s what I get for hanging out with two old geezers for the last few years.”

The sudden mention, minus the name, of the old shared friend made silence fall between them. Sam was working towards forgiveness, Bucky wasn’t to that point yet. He hadn’t spoken his name, nor gone to see him since those days by the lake after Tony’s funeral. Sam knew he soured the mood by the look on Bucky's face, and before he could say something, Bucky was up out of his seat.

“Hey, wait-”

“It’s fine,” Bucky said and tossed a bill down on the bar. “This just isn’t my scene.”

Bucky beelined for the exit. He was nearly out, nearly to freedom when an unknowing body backed up into his path of travel and he knocked right into them. He was quick to catch them from hitting the ground, hands gripping their shoulders, and positioning them back upright. He mumbled apologies as the other steadied themselves with his arms, and his jaw dropped open a bit.

No fucking way was this his luck.

“Geez, I’m sorry,” your familiar silky voice said over the music and chatter. Bucky released his grip on your arms and swallowed the lump in his throat when you looked up to meet his gaze. Your eyebrow quirked up a bit as you seemed to recognize his face and Bucky cleared his throat.

“It’s no problem,” he reassured you. God, were his hands sweating?

“I remember you,” you offered him a smile and Bucky felt frozen in place. “From that club, you got me a couple of drinks.”

“Right,” he nodded and swallowed another lump in his throat. “Rum and Coke.”

“Well that was your choice,” you joked and he finally cracked a smile. “What’s your name?”

“Sam,” he said a little too quickly. He nodded at himself. Fuck. “My name’s Sam.”

“Nice to meet you, Sam,” you offered your hand.

Bucky hesitated for a moment before he gently enveloped your hand with his gloved metal one. “And what should I call you?”

“(Y/N),” you replied and he smiled.

“I like it,” he said before he could stop himself. You smiled and he released your hand. Shit shit shit that was too much-

“Would you like to buy me a drink?” You asked and Bucky blinked a couple times before him. You were flirting with him. He couldn’t help but grin and nod back towards the bar behind him.

“I would like nothing more,” he said. He motioned his hand towards the bar and you moved around him to it. To his dismay, you sat a couple seats away from Sam. Bucky leaned his side against the bar with his back to his previous companion and hoped to God he wasn’t going to look this way. You smiled sweetly at the bartender and ordered something bubbly, and Bucky gave a knowing nod for another beer.

“So Sam,” you said over the music. Bucky could practically feel Sam’s eyes turn and stare at the back of his head, and he wanted nothing more than to hit the smug look off his face. And when Sam realized who and what was going on, he could hear the idiot stifle back laughs. “Are you a part of this.. Thing?”

“The group?” Bucky asked. He heard Sam slam his beer down in a frenzy from laughter and he clenched his jaw. He was going to kill him. He really was. He could just turn around and do it right here, right now. “No, no I’m not a part of it.. Are you?”

You turned a bit over your shoulder, and pointed at your sister who was trying to pry a karaoke mic from another person. “That trainwreck over there is trying to get me to join.”

The bartender was back with the drinks and you thanked him with your pretty smile again. Bucky lifted his beer up and shifted his body so he could send a glare at Sam, who looked like he was going to burst at any moment. With a curled fist, Bucky punched his side, and you didn’t even notice. Sam coughed frantically and you glanced over with a concerned look. Bucky set his beer down and placed a firm solid hand on Sam’s shoulder.

“Woah there man, you okay?” Bucky asked as he neared. Once he was close enough to Sam’s ear he whispered. “Go the fuck away, Sam.”

“Fuck you, Bucky,” Sam said back just as low. Bucky retracted himself back to your side and Sam stood, offered a small nod to the both of you and retreated with his drink. Bucky finally eased himself onto a seat beside you while you watched Sam wander away.

“Is he okay?” You asked and Bucky nodded.

“Yeah, poor guy just can’t hold his alcohol.” Bucky smiled at his own statement and took another swig from his drink. You sipped at your drink, and he could tell from the corner of his eye you were staring at him. Bucky placed his drink down and glanced over at you and you smiled.

“So tell me, Sam,” you started and Bucky turned a bit so he could face you better and just take you in. “Not to be pushy or anything.”

“Push all you want,” he reassured you. He could’ve sworn he saw a hint of rosiness creek over your cheeks.

“What are you doing here if you aren’t a part of this group?”

Bucky had to say his next words very carefully. He knew if he gave too much away you may be able to connect the dots. Your eyes looked his face over as he pondered his thought and he nodded a bit.

“I was dusted, and my pal thinks I should join.. But I don’t think I’m ready.”

“Ah, I see,” you said and Bucky watched as you sipped your drink.

“What about you?” He asked and you glanced over at him as you sipped away. “Gonna listen to your friend and give this a try?”

You let out a little uh uh as you swallowed, and rested your elbows on the bar. “I don’t think it’s for me.”

“Why do you say that?” Bucky asked and you shrugged your shoulders.

“I think I’m doing okay on my own,” you admit to him.

You had a small smile on your face. Bucky couldn’t help but wonder if you thought about him at that moment. But he nodded and glanced up at the tv that hung on the wall. Only a few minutes to midnight. You followed his gaze to the tv and hummed a bit.

“So Sam, are you planning on kissing anyone when the ball drops?” You asked.

Bucky blinked at your question. You were looking at him with curious eyes, and he felt something tingle in his chest. But Bucky fought his thoughts and shook his head.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” he diverted your question and you let out another quiet hmm. You opened your mouth to say something but a hand grabbed onto your arm, and Bucky finally saw your sister up close and personal.

“They won’t let me sing,” she complained and you smiled at Bucky before turning to your sister.

“Good, you’re terrible,” you told her and she rolled her eyes and finally landed her gaze upon Bucky.

“Who is this?” She asked and gave him a nice smile. Bucky could tell you fought back a laugh and stood from your place, wrapping an arm around your sister.

“That’s Sam,” you told her. “And you’re drunk.”

“No just a little bit,” she said and winked at Bucky. He only offered a smile before his eyes locked with yours. “Come on, I wanna be right in the middle when the ball drops.”

“Okay pushover,” you agreed and your sister bounced back to the crowd. You finished your drink and turned to face him and offered Bucky a smile.

“Thank you,” you placed your hand on his and gave it a squeeze. Bucky felt his heart race under his chest and gave you a small nod as you walked away, taking his breath with you. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, not until his worst fears came true. Sam was back at his side.

“So that’s her, huh?” Sam asked as he pulled out his wallet to close his tab. Bucky grumbled and pulled his wallet out as well.

“Yeah.. That’s her,” Bucky admitted. Sam glanced over his shoulder and shrugged a bit.

“She’s cute man, I don’t know why you stole my name.”

“Please just for the love of God drop it,” Bucky nearly pleaded as he put a couple bills down for the bartender in payment and a tip.

“Look,” Sam started as he turned to face Bucky. “I get you want to protect her from this life.. But from what I can tell from the messages, and the flirting, she’s into you.”

Over the tv the sounds of that final countdown started. The crowd in the room began to chant along as well and both men glanced at the tv. Sam turned back to head over to the crowd and looked Bucky over one more time.

“All I’m saying is, don’t be afraid to make the move. We both know how that worked out for Steve.”

Sam wandered off to the group and Bucky stared at the wooden bar before him. The voices that echoed behind him started to count down louder as Bucky got lost in his thoughts.

20! 19! 18! 17! 16!

As much as it physically pained him to admit, Sam was right. But he couldn’t take his word for it if you were “into him” or not. Sam was the absolute worst judge on women. Ladies. Dames-- God damn it that didn’t matter right now!

15! 14! 13! 12! 11!

Just one test. One test and he would know for sure if he would reveal himself to you. If you felt the same way about him. This was his chance to see if what your eyes showed him tonight, and that night outside the cafe were what he was looking for.

10! 9! 8! 7! 6!

Bucky stood up from his chair and downed the remaining liquor in the bottle, even if it didn’t aid him, before he sauntered towards the crowd. He could easily pick you out amongst the other bodies, and had to push through a couple people to get there on time.

5! 4! 3! 2! 1!

Just as the people around started to yell out the fateful words ‘Happy New Year’ Buky grabbed a hold of your hand and pulled you into him. His hands enveloped your face and your expression went from shock to acknowledgment when your eyes met his. In one fluid motion, he leaned down to catch your lips with his.

Your lips didn’t move against his, and Bucky felt defeated. After a couple quick seconds he pulled away and opened his eyes once more to see you staring at him. You looked confused, but he couldn’t tell if you were upset or not. Bucky retracted his hands from your face while others around kissed one another. You held your gaze with him and Bucky was going to just forget this ever happened. Just forget you.

He was pulled back into the moment when you suddenly placed your hand on the nape of his neck, and ran your fingers into the edges of his hair. Bucky was quick to grab a hold of your hips and lean back down to kiss you once more. This time, you moved in sync with him. It was a slow and passionate kiss as you pressed yourself into his body. Your lips parted for him and Bucky eagerly snuck his tongue into your mouth, and you relaxed against him. The almost sloppy wet kisses made his head buzz as he tasted the sweet bubbly drink you consumed with him, and felt your fingers scratch his scalp. His fingers dug into your hips to relieve the pressure he felt in him, and as the cheering died down, you both finally released one another.

Bucky’s lips hovered over yours as your hot breaths mixed with one another. Your skin did indeed look rosy, and the beautiful color in your eyes looked a little darker. You slowly untangled your fingers from his hair, and Bucky took his hands off your hips. He hated to end it like this, but your sister was quick to grab your hand and insist on her tiredness, and pulled you with her to the exit. Bucky didn’t look away as you were pulled out into the snowy night, and he smiled to himself like an idiot.

By the time he got home he had felt his phone vibrate a couple times. As he climbed the stairs to his apartment he ignored Sam’s attempt at a joke on Bucky’s behalf, and fumbled with his keys as he read your message over.

You: Happy New Years, Bucky! Have a good night? Thought about this tonight after all the festivities:

Somewhere there is a place where I belong

Where an orchestra plays my favourite song

Butterflies gather and birds fly high

A beautiful place in a sun-lit sky

I wake and I wonder the land of the free

Where souls dance happy and the shore meets the sea

Mermaids chat and whisper the day

And Gods of hope are not far away

The place where I belong sits right in my hand

It lies in oceans blue and drifts of hot sand

I carry it with me, for my eyes to see

That the place I belong, sits within me

Bucky tossed his keys into the bowl, took his jacket off as usual, and ran his hand through his hair at the thought of tonight. He smiled as he typed back a response.

Bucky: Happy New Years, doll. I did have a good night actually. I’m guessing you had a good night with your sister?

When he didn’t get an immediate reply, Bucky thought he just missed you. He made his way to the bathroom and started to strip rom his clothes when his phone vibrated on the porcelain sink, and he all but rushed to read your message with a stupid grin on his face.

You: It was better than I expected :)

[hyunjin-bun]

The  Good Mistake {Bokuto x Akaashi and Kuroo x Kenma}

synopsis: Where Akaashi and Bokuto have to come to terms with how they feel and Kuroo and Kenma have to discover their feelings.

pairings: Bokuto x Akaashi and Kuroo x Kenma

genre: FLUFF! (or at least trying to be) crack (but like it wasn’t supposed to be that’s just what happened) mutual pining some light angst here and there.

warnings: Swearing if there are anymore you think i should add just dm me.

note: oh my god guys. Idk what to tell you just that this chapter is MASSIVE. Its over 4k words😲 and not my intention but i just couldn't find it in my heart to split this one up. Uhm so its the second last chapter and I’m honestly really proud of this one so hopefully ya’ll like it👀

If you’d like to be tagged just send me an ask (or a message if you feel to awkward with asks cos same👀💛) Enjoy!💕

I Missed You

Kuroo woke up with a start as his alarm on his phone blared. It was Monday and time to get ready for work. Turning around to switch his alarm off he remembered Kenma breaking down in his arms last night. And looked back to his other side and saw Kenma right where he’d left him. His eyes, although closed, were still puffy around the edges.  Otherwise, he seemed peaceful.

It made Kuroo’s heartbreak because he knew how important last night was for both of them but he wouldn’t be able to spend the day with Kenma. He didn’t want to wake him up but also didn’t want to leave without a word. He carefully untangled himself and walked towards Kenma’s pc, which was still on. He opened a new document and typed out a note knowing Kenma would go to his computer first.

I don’t know when you’ll wake up but I will most likely be at work when you do, and I felt that leaving without saying anything would be wrong. But Kozume, I will try to get home as soon as possible this evening because I really feel that I need to talk to you. So be ready at about six and we can go out tonight like we used to. See you then.

,Tetsurou  <3

After finishing the note, he got up, grabbed his phone, and closed the room as quietly as possible.

Only to walk straight into Bokuto. “Jesus Bo,” he whispered harshly while reeling back slightly. He let out a sigh as he closed his eyes rubbing the sleep off his face. “Wow, I’m sorry I have to go to practice early. Where you with Kenma the whole night, what happened?” Bokuto said with a questioning look.

He wouldn’t have been so curious if Kuroo hadn’t confided in him all the emotions he had been feeling for Kenma that one night the both of them got unnecessarily drunk and the other two boys had gone to bed early. “No no nothing happened we just haven’t spent a lot of time with each other recently so we watched some movies and caught up that’s all,” he said as he walked passed Bokuto to go get ready in his room.

Bokuto caught put his hand on his shoulder to keep him from moving further, “Look Kuroo, I have a feeling that you should say something to Kenma. I’m sure you’re scared of what it would entail between the two of you but you gotta take that leap bro.” Kuroo looked back at him and nodded slowly, “Thanks Bo, I’m thinking about it.” He started walking away as he remembered what he would be doing that evening. “Oh and I’ll be taking Kenma out tonight after work so we probably won't be home until quite late.”

Bokuto smiled at that, “That’s great dude! Okay well, I’m taking Keiji out for dinner tonight so we’ll probably be leaving the house after you fetch Kenma.” Kuroo nodded thanks and went to take a quick shower. He then grabbed his bag as well as all the documents he needed and left for work hoping that his day wouldn’t be too long.

<----->

The sun was fully up and shining intensely through his window when Kenma woke up. The air around him felt empty as he noticed the absence of Kuroo. He sat up as he remembered it was Monday so he probably woke up early to leave for work. He flopped back down onto his bed breathing in the scent of Kuroo mixing with his. It was intoxicating and sweet and he instantly missed the warmth that was next to him not so long ago.

His eyes felt heavy and he had a slight headache.  It had been an exhausting evening the night before trying to keep himself from doing anything stupid with Kuroo but he broke in the end and nearly fucked it up. After touching Kuroo’s face causing him to wake up, he panicked and just broke down, but even then, as he was falling apart, Kuroo held him and it felt like all the pieces of the puzzle that made up Kenma were glued together. He felt safe in Kuroo’s arms. Safer than he’d ever felt.

Deciding that maybe taking a shower would help with the slight headache and the puffiness of his face he got up slowly. He looked toward his pc and noticed a document open. He didn’t remember opening one the night before so he went towards it and noticed a short paragraph, it was from Kuroo.

He read the note over and over again and kept freezing at the heart Kuroo put after his name. He wanted Kenma to be ready at six so they could go out and talk. What could Kuroo possible want to talk about tonight?

Kenma started to get worried and figured Kuroo had realised what the problem was and was just trying to find a way to let him down easily. The time was 12 pm so he had a few more hours to psyche himself up for what was going to happen. 

<----->

The day moved agonizingly slow for Kuroo, but finally, after he finished some filing his boss said it was okay for him to go at ten to six. Kuroo groaned in frustration as he got into his car. It took 15 minutes to get back to their apartment, that’s if he was lucky and there was no traffic. As he got onto the highway he switched his radio on to have some music in the background to calm his nerves at least a little. He thanked his lucky stars as he saw there was no traffic.

He looked at his watch and noticed he was five minutes late already so opting to not make Kenma wait any longer than he had to he decided against going inside to change. He loosened his tie and threw it into the back of his car and unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt which helped cool him down while his heart raced a mile a minute.

He pulled up in front of their apartment building but there was no sign of Kenma. He hadn’t messaged him or gotten confirmation if he even wanted to go or not so he decided to send him a message.

Kuroo: Hey, I’m waiting outside. Do you wanna go out tonight? It's okay if you don’t

His palms started sweating as he expected Kenma to say no. He sighed with relief as a notification popped up.

Kenma: I do, I’m coming.

His response was short and simple but it made Kuroo’s stomach burst with butterflies. He smiled and couldn’t stop. He put his phone into the console and got out to stretch his legs for a couple of seconds and take off his blazer.

He heard the buzzer of the door to the building and looked up to see Kenma stumbling down the steps towards the car.

Kenma looked up at him looking almost defensive. Kuroo smiled at him hoping to ease him up a bit, “You ready to go Kenma?” Kenma looked at him almost annoyed, “I’ve been waiting since six so I guess so.” He said as he opened the car door and Kuroo laughed at the playful rudeness.

Kenma hopped into the passenger seat and Kuroo got into the drivers. “Okay so, what do you wanna do first?” he said as he buckled his seat belt.

“I thought you had something already planned,” Kenma looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

“I mean, I don’t I kinda just wanted to do things you want to I guess,” Kuroo said as he shrugged his shoulders.

Kenma sighed as he put his legs up on the dash, “Okay well, I’m kind of hungry I guess.” Kuroo praised his choice because he was practically starving; the last time he ate was a quick sandwich he bought from the café down the road from his work.

Starting the car, he drove to their favourite restaurant, which was not very far from where they stayed.  As they got out of the car it gave Kuroo a moment to notice Kenma’s appearance, he was wearing an obnoxiously bright yellow hoodie and black sweatpants. His hear was tied back in a low messy bun. Some strands of hair were too short to fit so they just hung loosely and almost angelically framed his face.

It was a bit chilly out so Kuroo grabbed the spare sweater he kept in his car. Now he looked somewhat less formal.

Kenma shivered as the walked up the path to the restaurant. He almost thought that the air around them would be awkward and uncomfortable but as per usual with Kuroo he somehow managed to put Kenma at ease. Every time.

This time it was the smile he got from Kuroo as he walked to the car earlier. It relieved some of the anxiety that had started to build up in the pit of his stomach. They got a booth almost at the back of the restaurant and Kenma couldn’t help but feel like he was on a date with Kuroo but he knew it was anything but that.

It felt very private sitting where they were sitting. Kenma liked it like this. He watched as Kuroo sat down and opened the menu to pick something. Kenma mirrored him even though he knew what he’d be getting. They ordered their drinks and food at the same time and the waiter left.

Kuroo put his elbows up on the table and balanced one hand under his chin looking at Kenma, “You wanna talk about what happened last night or not now?” Kenma placed his hand on the table trying to seem more open. He didn’t want Kuroo to think he’d keep being defensive. “I don’t think I’m quite ready to talk yet Tetsu.”

Kuroo huffed out a small chuckle and smiled at him, “That’s okay we can build up to it, what did you do today?” Kenma started to relax as he recounted probably his most boring day ever. He wasn’t really in the mood to stream because he knows his fans would have noticed how anxious he was and he wasn’t up to answering the questions they would throw at him so he’d basically sat and played games.

Kuroo looked almost sympathetic, “Why didn’t you feel up to streaming?” Kenma shrugged, “I don’t know, I guess it’s the same reason for last night.” Kuroo nodded and was about to say something when the waiter arrived with their order. While eating he listened carefully as Kuroo told him about how boring his day was too and how it went by so slowly because he was looking forward to tonight. This surprised Kenma. What was Kuroo so excited about?

He decided asking won't kill anyone except maybe his will to live. “Wha-Kenma why wouldn’t I be excited? We haven’t hung out like this in a long time and well,” he paused and couldn’t help the blood rush up to his cheeks, “Well I missed you Kenma.”

Kenma was taken aback at how forward Kuroo was being. Of course, they’d been forward with each other in the past about certain small things but never about each other. He felt a glimmer of hope in his heart at this.

Kuroo was worried if he’d said too much because of the look of surprise on Kenma’s face. Kenma looked down at his food and mumbled just loud enough for Kuroo to hear, “Well I’ve missed you too.”

Kenma looked back up to see Kuroo practically beaming, and Kenma couldn’t help but smile at him in return as his ears burned. They continued to eat in comfortable silence.

Kenma was nearly finished with his sushi when Kuroo asked what he wanted to do next. “Mmn no I chose the first thing, it's your turn now,” Kenma said after gulping the last bit of food down. Kuroo just smiled at him, “okay fine.” He didn’t say anymore and asked for the bill.

After paying they went to the car and Kenma stopped before opening the door. “Okay, where are we going Tetsu?” The man supported a mischievous grin on his face while shaking his head, “You’ll have to see when we get there Kenma.”

Kuroo drove for about 10 minutes and suddenly they were in the heart of the city. He parallel parked on the side of the street and looked at Kenma “You ready?” “Kuroo I don’t even know what I’m supposed to be ready for,” Kenma said incredulously. “Come on then,” Kuroo said as he stepped out of the car.

Kenma followed suit and shuffled closer to Kuroo when he walked around the car. It was busy in the city. Not as busy as it would be on a weekend but close enough. “Hold my hand so you don’t lose me?” Kuroo said, observing the fact that Kenma was becoming reserved at the sight of all the people walking around.

Kenma looked up at Kuroo with his eyes wide, “uh-uhm, you want to hold my hand?” he said as his face gradually got hotter. “Well yeah so I don’t lose you in the crowd,” he noted as he held out his hand for Kenma to take. Kenma hesitated long enough for Kuroo to think it was too much but Kenma took his hand. Holding Kuroo’s hand is everything he felt it would be and more. His hands were surprisingly soft and of course bigger than his.

Kuroo tried his hardest to hide the blush that had wound its way to his cheeks when Kenma took his hand. He had to remind himself that he used the excuse of not losing Kenma in the crowd of people and that they aren’t just like all the other couples he’d noticed walking around.

He led Kenma down one of the many alleys and stopped in front of a shop with lots of bright colours and lights. It was a game store he was told about by one of his colleagues at work and instantly thought about taking Kenma there. He wanted to do it for their first date but obviously, he hadn’t asked Kenma out.

He looked down at Kenma expectantly and his breath hitched when he saw how the lights reflected against his skin and how the lights made his eyes seem especially bright. “Tetsu how did you find out about this place it's beautiful,” Kenma said looking through the window at all the shelves and things on the walls.

“Beautiful,” He mumbled still looking at Kenma. Kenma turned to look at Kuroo, “What?” The sudden eye contact threw Kuroo out of his trance and he looked dowm, “Uh, yeah so one of my colleagues who is like 70 years old was telling me about his grandkids favourite store and its uh, this one.” Kenma just nodded and looked back through the window, “Well can we go in?”

Kuroo laughed and looked into the store too, “No of course not I just felt like making you look into your version of heaven and then drag your ass back home, seriously Kenma, of course we can.” Kenma gave him a small smile and pulled him into the store.

Stepping into the store was a big relief to Kenma because he was able to get out of the crowded and loud streets. There weren’t a lot of people inside the store maybe about 7 including him and Kuroo. The walls and ceiling were black and they had blue and red lights on either side of the room. There were posters all over the walls showing the new releases and life-size figures of characters were dotted here and there.

Kenma realised he was still holding Kuroo’s hand and let go thinking it wasn’t necessary anymore. Kuroo’s expression was unreadable as he let go. He was smiling but his eyes seemed to convey something different. He walked further into the store running his hands along the shelves, Kuroo watched him for a couple of seconds before following after him slowly. His hand felt empty without Kenma’s hand in it and he yearned to satiate his need for the feeling of Kenma’s skin against his.

They walked around and talked in the store until the owner said he’d be closing in 15 minutes. So Kenma quickened his pace and grabbed things he saw that he wanted to get. Kuroo was following him until he stopped and saw something that he wanted to get for Kenma.

It was a small pendant of one of the cats from Animal Crossing who Kuroo remembers was very similar to Kenma. They were both lazy and both would do activities if told they could get something like food out of it and just his general feel about him was very Kenma-ish. He smiled as he took the pendant off the shelf.

“Are you coming Kuroo?” he heard Kenma call for him. He looked up and Kenma had finished paying and was waiting for him by the door. “Oh yeah, I’m coming just wait for me there.” He replied as he gave the chain to the man at the register so he could pay for it. He declined a packet and slipped the chain into his pocket and thanked the cashier.

He and Kenma left the shop back into the street which had calmed down a bit so there were not as many people. Kenma looked up at Kuroo as they started to walk back to the car, “Hey thank you for tonight. I really enjoyed myself Tetsu.” Kuroo nodded and smiled in response, “I’m glad, and you seemed happier too.”

He then thought of an idea remembering what Bokuto had said to him that morning, “But, we aren’t done yet,” he said as he stopped in his tracks. Kenma stopped midstride and turned to look at him. “What do you mean, what else do you want to do?”

Kuroo then continued walking with a grin on his face. “Wh-what’s up with all these surprises Tetsu.” He grumbled as he followed Kuroo. Once they were back in the car Kuroo put the heater on as the temperature dropped a bit and his sweater was not nearly warm enough. He started to drive leaving the city and Kenma hooked up his phone to the cars speaker system to play some music that he liked.

Kuroo actually preferred listening to whatever Kenma played because he had a wider variety of genres that he listened to so he could go from hardcore rap to the softest and romantic music you could find yourself listening to. His favourite was a song called carry you by Ruelle which Kenma started to play.

He found himself humming along to the words and feels them resonate through the way he was feeling about Kenma at that moment. He stopped at a spot that was halfway up a mountain but had a beautiful view of the city. He stopped the car but kept it on to let the song play through until it ended.

Kenma looked out onto the view with wonder. He wasn’t the kind of person to travel much even if it was just down the road and even then he didn’t take much notice of the scenery around him. He pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. “Wow, Tetsu. This is…” he let out a huff as he smiled obviously speechless, “why did you bring me out here though?”

Kuroo continued to look out the window with determination. He had to go through with this. He couldn’t just keep himself from finding out what would happen. He was scared but it had to be done. “I have to confess something to you Kenma. I can’t keep it inside anymore it’s not fair to me or you.”

Kenma instantly felt a cold feeling wash over him. He knew what was coming and could feel his eyes start to burn as the tears threatened to flow. He tried to remain calm though. This needed to happen. No matter how much it hurts him it's necessary. He braced himself for the rejection.

Kuroo turned to look at Kenma but couldn’t see what was happening on his face as he was facing away. So he took that leap, “I think I’m in love with you Kenma.” As he said this he saw a tear roll down Kenma’s face.

Kenma whipped his head to the side so he could look at Kuroo, the look of absolute surprise very evident on his face. His jaw dropped open in complete disbelief. “What! is it that surprising?” Kuroo said. Kenma tried to regain his composure, “Tetsu are you sure?” he couldn’t believe what was coming from Kuroo’s mouth. Kuroo raised his eyebrow at him, “What do you mean ‘am I sure’ Kenma I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.”

Kuroo couldn’t quite read the emotions on Kenma’s face but he knew they weren’t bad. Maybe he had nothing to worry about?

Kenma moved so he could sit facing Kuroo directly, “Jesus Tetsurou I-well I love you too.” He looked as if he was close to tears as his gaze found its way to Kuroo’s. It was Kuroo’s turn to be surprised and he instantly smiled and looked down as if he was embarrassed about it.

Kenma rubbed his eyes to get rid of the tears that had threatened to fall not even minutes before. Kuroo looked back up again, “Is that what’s been bothering you lately?” Kenma laughed as he sniffed. Kuroo was oblivious but he wasn’t a complete idiot. “Yeah actually I wanted to talk to you about it but I was too scared that it would mean losing you and I don’t think I’d be able to handle that.”

Kuroo looked at him with a serious expression on his face. “So are you okay now, since it’s in the open?” Kenma nodded his head with a small smile. Kuroo lifted his hand to push back some hair that had fallen into Kenma’s face and he kept it there as he moved closer, his eyes keeping Kenma’s locked into place “May I kiss you Kenma?” Kenma nodded as he moved closer.

Kuroo cupped Kenma’s face between both his hands and lightly grazed his thumb over his cheekbone. Slowly he brushed his nose against Kenma’s and pressed their lips together as softly as he could to test out the waters to make sure he was completely okay with this. Kenma leaned more forward as he wrapped his arms around Kuroo’s neck and tangled his hands in his hair.

He sighed as Kuroo deepened the kiss, their lips moving in sync with each other. Kuroo bit Kenma’s bottom lip softly earning himself a small moan from him. Needing air, they pulled away from each other but Kuroo kept his forehead pressed against Kenma’s.

“God I’m so sorry I didn’t say anything sooner.“ He huffed out with a laugh and continued, “will you go out with me. On a date next time?” Kenma opened his eyes and smiled, “Yes Tetsu.” Kuroo giggled and kissed him again longer this time. After what felt like hours they untangled from each other but still stayed close.

“Oh I meant to ask you Tetsu, what did you get from the store earlier?” Kenma asked with a curious look on his face. Kuroo blanked for a second before remembering, “Oh shit, yeah. Well, remember when you introduced me to Animal Crossing and I told you my favourite villager in your village was that lazy cat named Bob?”

Kenma nodded, “It was actually because he reminded me of you. And when I walked past one of the stands earlier I saw this.” He reached into his pocket and brought out the chain with the pendant on it. “So I wanted to buy it for you.”

Kenma looked down at the chain hanging between them. He looked at Kuroo and smiled, “This may be the cutest thing anyone has ever gotten me Tetsu, thank you.” He took the chain from Kuroo and slipped it over his head holding the pendant of the lazy purple cat in his hand.

Kenma grabbed his phone to play music through it and they sat together listening to love songs that somehow deepened the already ocean depth love they had for each other.

Tagging: @gabbywubby  @shou-kunn @super-noya @thequeenofpotatoeunicornss @pudding-head-kenma @thirsthourdemon @thesecretlifeoflilly

[ifeellikeameowster]

E.V.O.L Chapter 2 - On No!

Chapter Summary: Logan is finally done with his workday and can now retire to his living quarter upstairs. He starts reviewing his notes for the day only to find a few inconsistencies and a startling conclusion...

Warnings: Beginnings of Yandere like behavior, mentions of stalking, emotional breakdown, breaking of objects.

Pairings: One-sided analogical.

Word Count: 4k+

Chapter followed by Author’s Note then Tag List under the read more:

One track mind, one track heart.

If I fail, I'll fall apart.

Maybe it is all a test.

'Cause I feel like I'm the worst,

So I always act like I'm the best.

Logan Sumner, self proclaimed magical child prodigy and warlock extraordinaire, always had three cups of coffee throughout his typical work day. One cup before breakfast, one in the middle of lunch, and finally one after his dinner. Dr Sumner was well known in the magical community as a stickler for his routine and the outbursts that were sure to follow if anything trivial ever dared to interrupt said routine. Though the particular interruptions that had occurred earlier that day hadn’t bothered him nearly as much as they should have. Almost as if-

He tightened his lips and jerkily shook his head to rid himself of that train of thought before it could even leave the station. Instead, he steered ever sturdily and steadily forward and into his quaint dining room table’s only occupying chair. It was time for dinner, after all. He whistled out into the air of the sparsely decorated apartment atop his shop for his two wonderful and trustworthy Familiars. 

Moriariy, punctual as per usual, was the first to join him. Flying in from the direction of his bedroom and landing at the other end of the table, where a small plate of little seeds and several lush fruits awaited him. His other Familiar, however, followed along at his typical slower pace. Slinking in from the direction of the stairwell and stopping beside him at the foot of the table, where a larger plate of tenderly cooked meats awaited him.

“Did you have a good run, Sheppard?” Logan asks the Valravn as he runs a gentle hand along the canine’s back.

Sheppard, who was slightly more wild in nature than the Yatagarasu, would occasionally leave the shop for the later half of their work day in order to have a refreshing romp in the nearest forest- the one just outside of Painic Park. Logan never once worried over his return, for his Familiars had never failed him before. Which is one of the many reasons he got along better with them than with his other, more humanoid peers.

The handsome pitch black wolf with scattered feathers along his form, bird’s talons as front legs, and a sharp beak perched at the end of his snout gave a tired out, low swooping nod at the query. His warlock gave him a quick pat on the head for his reply and turned away to focus on his own meal. 

It was a hearty and well balanced dinner of steak and salad, yet Logan could not help but feel as though he was craving something else entirely different. Perhaps it was the usual pull towards his work he so often felt? Nodding along to the notion, he picked up his cutlery in order to dig in. One cannot think well on an empty stomach, as the saying goes. Once he began eating, his polite and surprisingly patient Familiars began to eat their own meals as well.

After dinner he immediately washes the small amount of dishes used during the day. It was best not to let them pile up too much, as he was a man that loathed disorder and messiness.

Moriarty swooped in to help place the assorted plates and glasses back on the shelves while Sheppard strode his way over to the living room to lay between Logan’s grey loveseat and the small brick fireplace. Knowing full well that that seat was where Logan would be spending the next couple of hours as he casually went over the day’s work. 

Moriarty, on the other hand, would spend the time flitting between nesting on the cushion beside him, perching on the back of the loveseat, and resting himself upon Logan’s shoulder. His movements were easily predictable for Logan, who hardly ever got startled by the bird. Well, with the exception of…

The warlock pinched the bridge of his nose as he made his own way into the living room while holding his last cup of coffee of the day, sending Moriarty a look that somehow managed to be questioning, exasperated, and fond all rolled into one as he passed by him.

Why had the bird practically launched himself towards their newest client? Normally, if his Familiars invaded a strangers personal space so abruptly upon first meeting them then that meant that they saw them as a threat and were acting fast to protect their warlock. But that had apparently not been the case at all! Moriarity had....had proceeded to cuddle the darkly dressed man in an overly affectionate and quite frankly rude manner. His Familiars, as he had mentioned to the fellow, usually did not like anyone other than Logan. Only finding exception in long time acquaintances that he held a particular camaraderie with. Especially Moriarty because he was Logan’s first and therefore most bonded. The client in question, however...Had seemed to not mind at all...And had just happily soaked up the bird’s affection towards him. He had taken it all in with an alarmingly charming smile and softened voice that almost made his knees-

He falls into the loveseat, gripping the edge of the cushions with one hand and trying not to spill his fresh coffee with the other as he sits down. Anchoring his thoughts before he lets them set sail into some illusionary sunset. He needed to forget about that odd incident. He needed to start thinking straight again. He needed to get some more work done. 

Don't do love, don't do friends.

I'm only after success.

Don't need a relationship.

I'll never soften my grip.

With a resolved sigh the warlock reached over to the end table beside the loveseat, placed the just barely saved cup atop it’s coaster, scooped up the couple of notebooks that were there, and began looking through his notes on all of his meetings for the day. As he read through them, however, he began to feel unnaturally antsy. He chewed on his bottom lip. He tapped his nails against the cover. He hopped his foot continuously up and down. Sensing his uneasiness, Moriarty lets out a questioning caw soon followed by Sheppard’s concerned woof.  

“I’m fine.” He rasps out, “It’s just…” His eyes flicker towards the second notebook, the one now laying right beside his thigh. The one he would read second. Because he always read everything in chronological order and he would never skip around. Not for anything. Because it was very important that he remained well organized and timely in his work. So he would leave that one for later, for only after he had finished this one first. He would leave it there and he would-

Proceed to snatch it up immediately, entirely disregarding the previous notebook, which promptly and tragically fell onto the floor. Poor first notebook. Your fate belongs with the pen now.

“It’s this.” He hisses out as he flips on over to page thirty two. The beginning of his notes on his noon appointment, who had actually arrived an overwhelmingly terrible amount of one and a half hours late. Which had set him further on edge than he already was after dealing with Misses Stockbean around ten o’clock that morning, who had demanded more Ozian Poppy seeds than the original agreed amount for half the usual price. So understandably, he might have been a tad snappy towards the bloke at first but he had tried to soften at least a little bit after seeing how anxious the poor guy really was. But then, oh then, Moriarty had preceded to act entirely too strange for him which set Logan right back on edge again. After he had calmed his Familiar down with promises of extra fruits at dinner that night if he stayed quietly upstairs for the remainder of the appointment, he had finally been able to start to interview him.

Monday, September 23rd. Virgil Spurling. Age 26. Self Employed. Lives with his three adoptive parents, Thomas Proudfoot, Talyn Banes, and Joan Vivas. Only spends time with either the three of them, or his two honorary cousins Remington Sexton and Otto Toby Haggard. No living friends outside of the family. No current romantic or sexual partners. Has dark brown hair with light brown highlights. Has long bangs that fall over his eyes, sometimes almost covering them completely. Has rather stormy hazel blue eyes that almost appear violet depending on the lighting he is in. Has pronounced dark circles under his eyes- which are concerning. Has a lovely onyx teardrop piercing on his left cheek and a pair of matching dahlia piercings besides his lips. Has rounded, soft pink lips with a thinner upper lip and a thicker, more bitable lower lip and-

Wait a minute, just what kind of notes had he been taking the entire time he was conducting this interview?! He skips ahead two pages and he’s still just on the physical description section. His physical descriptions had always been more concise and to the point before now. He didn’t quite understand what had happened this time in order to change that. He skims ahead more to try and pinpoint any change or clue anywhere in all of this absurdity. 

Has brushed his bangs aside and placed them beside his ear to allow me to see that he has a tattoo behind his ear, on the side of his neck, comprised of a complicated swirl of black roses and thorns. It looks like it would have been painful to get but compliments the structure of the junction between his neck and shoulder nicely. It makes one wonder if he would appreciate someone’s equally difficult yet proudly designed tattoos of assorted constellations across one’s rib cages-

Okay, just why had he started talking about his own tattoos? These notebooks weren’t for some diary-esque documentation of himself. They were for taking professional notes so that he made sure he remembered the most important details of, and information for, all of his assorted clientele. Skip ahead further!

He is surprisingly smart. He is as quick witted as he is sharp-tongued. Metaphorically, of course. Physically, his actual tongue is baby pink and soft, if the few times it has darted out to lick nervously over his lips and teeth are of any indication. He hates pick up lines. Understandable. I find them pointless as well. He. Him. He too has memorized the entire periodic table of elements and is actually fluent in using their abbreviated symbols to make multiple words. Impressive. Breathtaking-

Well at least he seemed to be finally past the physical description now. Yet those strange sentences kept popping up and intertwining themselves where they had no right to be. Even if that had been rather breathtaking at the time it still...It still didn’t explain...Skip ahead! Skip ahead!

He lost his only friend at much too young of an age. I couldn't even begin to imagine how he must feel. How I would have felt were I in his place. He deserves to be comforted and well looked after. He needs a hug. A nice long, extended hug. Perhaps, seeing as I am the only one here with him as of the moment and thusly the only person currently available to do so I could-

Woah, woah, woah. Slow down there past Logan! One should never initiate physical contact with their client without their express consent. He knew that, of course. He knew that and yet he had written...He had written far too much about himself, is what he had done. Wasn’t he supposed to be finding Virgil a suitable romantic and/or sexual partner? How could he do that if he was too busy writing about himself and what...what he wanted? And wait, he wanted? He...yearned? And just for what, exactly? Skip-

He likes poetry. Specifically gothic poetry. That is one of my many favorites as well. I have a rather extensive collection in my shop that I could share with him-

Oh Merlin. 

He prefers Astronomy as well. Rather surprising, actually, given his darker appearance and habit of speaking- I had wrongly pegged him for someone much more superstitious. A nice surprise. A welcome one. He seems hyper fixated on the plethora of bird-associated constellations which is highly endearing. There is a new large telescope being currently housed in the recently opened observatory section of the Morph Museum, which is not that far of a walk from my shop. Perhaps I could take him-

Oh Merryweather.

He likes bath bombs and the hand soap that foams. He likes collecting seashells and storing little hidden trinkets in them. He likes feeling the gentler tides lap across his feet but dislikes ever actually going any further into the water unless someone he trusts is there with him. Meanwhile, I personally haven’t been out metal detecting in a while maybe I could go with-

Oh Mages of Both Old and New!

I know exactly what I want and who I want to be.

I know exactly why I walk and talk like a machine.

I'm now becoming my own self-fulfilled prophecy.

Oh, oh no, oh no, oh no, oh!

Logan tosses the notebook back down onto the couch, a notably much safer place than the floor, and lets out a choked, broken sob. Using his hands to haphazardly tug on his hair, he somehow hopes to numb his ever spiraling thoughts like a brain freeze might do so after drinking a cold beverage too fast but it’s not working.  Nothing’s working and-

And there’s a lick on one of his hands. He blinks aside a few tears he hadn’t even realized had fallen in the first place and sees that Sheppard had risen to his height by standing on his hind paws and was now trying to gently get his warlock to stop abusing his own scalp. Meanwhile, Moriarty was darting back and forth across the room, obviously trying to locate the source of Logan’s clear distress. He manages a breathy chuckle at that despite his current haggard condition and decides to wrap his arms gently around Sheppard’s feathered scuff instead.

“Really,” he praises, “What would I do without you two?” 

Sheppard huffs back at him, which roughly translated to Nothing, obviously. And causes Logan to break out into a more genuine laugh this time before sinking to his knees and bringing the pup softly down with him. He evens his breathing out as Shep licks consolingly at his hands and arms. “What am I going to do, boy?” he mumbles as he uses his dress shirt’s pocket handkerchief to dab at the stray tears with one arm as he still clings to the wolf with his other. “This can’t be happening, right? It just can’t.” He gets no response at that, however, probably since the poor canine can’t entirely grasp the emotional severity of the situation. 

Deciding to just toss the handkerchief into the nearest bin instead of sending it through the wash as per usual whenever he dirtied it, he finally lets go of Sheppard, stands back up, and brushes off his pants legs. Upon glancing towards the looming form of the notebook where it still lay tauntingly on the couch’s cushions, he guffaws a more strained and panicked laugh as his thought train not only takes off down the tracks but also entirely derails off course.

If you are not very careful,

Your possessions will possess you.

TV taught me how to feel,

Now real life has no appeal.

“What have I always told myself, hm?” He gestures wildy, causing Moriarty to stop his frantic searching in order to look towards him and for Sheppard to perk back up into attention as well. “What have I always told myself even way back in school? Even though other more hormonal mages always disagreed with me, what were the words I always stuck by, huh?” The two Familiars shared a brief confused look between the two of them.

Logan stops to run a hand through his hair in hopes of straightening it up a bit from it’s tousled state. “What words not only got me through school but also allowed me to reach my full potential and achieve the placement of top student?” He allows himself to take a moment to stroke a hand over each of the surfaces of all the awards aligning the top shelf of his smallest bookcase, located on the other side of the loveseat than the end table was. These were the backups of the awards he kept in his shop downstairs, just in case a particularly rowdy customer ever managed to break one. After his fingers left the “Best Little Potion Maker’s” one, he pushed himself away from the area entirely and headed swiftly towards the hallway in front of the staircase. 

It has no appeal.

It has no appeal.

It has no appeal.

It has no appeal.

It has no appeal!

His ever attentive Familiars followed worriedly behind him until they stop just before the steps. He flourishes a harsh, pointed finger at the few portraits hanging on the wall there. “What words were going to eventually get me all the way to the top of Heartwish City’s very own magical community? But are now just...Just dead pipe dreams!” His two most trusted creature companions, still ever so confused by his current trail of logic, made hushed little questioning noises.

Ripping the topmost portrait off of the wall, he began to hiss his next words at it as if the object itself had managed to personally offend him. “Focus on your work. Never fall prey to your feelings. You need to be successful in life more than you need to personally engage in any inane romantic or sexual endeavors.” Merlin’s painted facade stared blankly and unchangingly back at him. In utter retaliation at the silence, he tosses it frame and all down the stairs. Upon remembering Logan’s aversion to untidiness, Sheppard slinks slowly down them to go collect the scattered remains.

Don't want cash, don't want card.

Want it fast, want it hard.

Don't need money, don't need fame.

I just want to make a change.

“Lot of good that did me, boys!” He continues to deliriously shout out, “All these years and not even so much of an inkling of said feelings and yet over the course of one idiotically ineffable day I’ve managed to gain what is essentially a childish schoolyard crush!” He managed to breathe out all in one go before slumping tiredly against the side of the stairwell.

In a Eureka! moment Moriarty begins to excitedly flit to and fro while hurriedly chirping at his warlock. Almost too fast for him to be able to sense the meaning of. “Wait, slow down a bit Mori. What are you-” More hard to decipher chirps, “Hold on, move in? What on earth gave you that idea? No, he’s not going to-” More persistent caws this time, “Well, of course we both like him, I’ve literally just now established that already and- And wait just a moment.”

He scoops the bird gently into his palms. “You liked him first, didn’t you?” One short caw confirmed a resounding Yes. for him. “Did you know, then? Could you have possibly sensed that he’s perfect for me? For us?” He stutters out a breathy laugh, “That’s what that whole debacle was about, wasn’t it?” The crow coos soothingly back up at him and gives him a love bite on the bridge of his nose. Logan releases Moriarty back into the air, along with the emotions connected to his previous outburst, and leans back to place his hands firmly on his hips while he stood proudly back up on his own two feet.

“Just look at me, behaving so ridiculously over the top for such a trivial matter. Throwing a temper tantrum even! Just what would my old professors say, if they saw me now?” He shuffles over to the other side of the hallway where a small cabinet is and opens one of the drawers. “After all, I am more than perfectly capable of handling more than one problem at a time, am I not?” There was both a cheerfully agreeable caw and howl at that, which caused him to finally smile happily again. “And besides, it might not even last all that long. Crushes and mere infatutations are usually short lived!” He rifles through the drawer’s contents until he finds another portrait that was dusty and slightly cracked in one of the upper hand corners. Shutting the drawer and striding back over to the stairwell he holds it up to see if it’ll fit in the arrangement. “Yes, this’ll do perfectly.”

I just wanna change.

I just wanna change.

I just wanna change.

I just wanna change.

I just wanna change!

“And well, if it does last longer or just so happens to escalate further, then...” He concludes as he places the portrait on the spot with a short spell to fix the hook he had broken earlier and steps back to admire the new set up, “His parents never specified that I couldn't be the one I chose for his match, now did they?” Morgan Le Fey, now sitting atop the others as if on a throne made up of the mages, gives him a subtly wicked and tilted smile in response. 

He mirrors her expression for the briefest of moments before spinning on his heel and heading towards the only window on the top floor of his building. The warlock steps into his bedroom,  pushes the curtains aside, and undoes the latches in the center. As he thrusts the two panes wide open, Moriarty joins his side once more.

 “Ah, perfectly punctual as always, Moriarty.” he praises as the bird lands on the back of his hand before leaning in to whisper conspiratorially to him, “Before any new endeavor one embarks on in their life, they should always research properly first, yes?” After his Familiar nods in agreement he continues onwards, “And I’m sure you want to see him again soon yourself, right?” Upon realizing who his warlock was talking about, the bird fluffs up his feathers in anticipation. “Exactly, so this all makes perfect sense.” He waves away any other possible negative notions with a sweep of his hand and turns swiftly back towards the open window.

The sun was setting now. The doctor briefly recalled a time, as a kid, where he had stayed up long past his bedtime not only to see the sunset but to also test out his newest telescope. Back then, before he had properly entered into his magical schooling, he had been far more into scientific pursuits at the time. Though he still held a liking towards them now that he was older, what really currently consumed him was his work with all things magical and mythical. Though now, after today, a new beast of a subject was rounding the corner to have it’s turn eating away at his soul. Maybe, just maybe, if he was lucky enough, he could manage to take a bite out of it first.

“Alright, Moriarity, you know what you must do.” He interrupted the nostalgic scene and swung the arm the Yatagarasu was perched upon out the window and into the open picturesque evening air. His voice took on a booming echo, “Go forth and gather all that we must know, Though never your own cover you must blow.”

All three of his Familiar’s eyes flashed with the royal blue color of Logan’s magic before the third eye disappeared into the feathers of his forehead and his third leg was tucked away into the feathers of his tail. They both breathed a collective sigh of relief at another spell well cast, despite the roller coaster of emotions that they had all been through that day. Moriarty gave him one final nod in reassurance of their plan and took off into the ever changing dusk sky.

The warlock stayed by the window long enough to watch until his Familiar’s form disappeared over the horizon then set about closing and locking it back up. His other Familiar trudged upwards from the stairs, through the small apartment, and into his bedroom. Giving him a huff to announce his presence. 

“Oh, you cleaned it up?” he asked the Valravn, who butted his head against his thigh, “Thank you, though I could have gotten it myself later.” A grunt followed that and he chuckled as he scratched behind the canine’s ears, “Yes, yes you're a good boy. Now let’s head to bed, shall we?” Sheppard pulled away from the affection to howl at the window. “Moriarty? He’s...running an errand. He’ll be a while.” To which he received the most pointed look a dog’s face could ever muster. He shivered as he felt the intrinsically implied Can’t hide things from me, we’re bonded. and cleared his throat to correct himself, “He’s watching over our dear new acquaintance, Virgil. Don’t worry, you’ll be able to meet him yourself soon.” 

Much more satisfied by that answer, Shep hopped up onto his rightful spot at the foot of the bed. Where he settled down to wait as Logan went through his nightly routine of partially getting ready for the next work day, cleaning himself up, and changing into his pajamas. 

Meanwhile, the coffee mug in the living room on the dark wooden end table still sat forgotten and untouched. Where it would no doubt remain throughout the entire night.

I'm gonna live, I'm gonna fly.

I'm gonna fail, I'm gonna die.

I'm gonna live, I'm gonna fly.

I'm gonna fail, gonna die, die, die, die.

A/N: So I’m still a dirty rotten no good procrastinator. But! Hopefully it’ll help make up for the wait just a little bit that I’ll be posting both chapters 2 and 3 in quick secession. Along with a short, one-off Creativitwins fanfic (coming soon) based off of the latest episode (SVS Part 2). Hope you’ll enjoy! ^ . ^ “”” Also, I’ll no longer be going through the original post for reblogs to add to the taglist. So if anyone wants to be added to it please dm or ask me and let me know! ;3

Tag List: 

@accidental-sanders 

@ren-allen

@noneed4thistbh

@virgil-the-void-kitten

@totalwhovian

@bandgeek82002-love

@allycat31415

@notalwaysthevillian

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@demon-of-sparkles

@transdimentionalapocolypse

@maybe-one-day-i-will-be-okay

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@loveyousweets

@im-a-space-gay

@kai-the-person

[miracleboiz]

Making a Home Ch. 7

Kita Shinsuke had experienced a lot in life. He had been raised with his grandmother, a loving foster parent and for some time he followed in her foot steps before finding his own path. He thought his foster care license had expired before getting a call at three am with two small boys thrust into his arms. Miya Osamu and Atsumu, from broken homes but still fighting. Thirty days before his license expires. Thirty days to make a choice, keep the boys or let them be separated into different homes. Thirty days to fall in love with them.

Words: 4k

Relationships: Gen

Warnings: Mention of past child abuse, non-graphic abuse

Not from Kita, but it is mentioned. I will post any warnings before any panic attacks or vague descriptions of abuse.

Read below or on AO3

Shinsuke was just finishing the last of the dumplings as the doorbell rang. Osamu looked up with confusion, hair now dusted with flour.

“Akagi? Can you go see who that is? It’s probably Oomimi.” Shinsuke called, turning to wash his hands off in the sink and help Osamu copy him. “Aran, Atsumu can you set up the table? I already have the pot on the table.”

Aran paused the game and tossed Atsumu an easy grin, putting the controllers on the coffee table. He stood as Akagi skipped towards the front door with a cheer and led Atsumu into the kitchen.

“ ‘Mimi!” Akagi screamed and there was the sound of someone falling against the door quickly followed by a soft greeting.

Osamu and Atsumu both froze, staring at the doorway until Oomimi walked in with Akagi holding tightly to his back. Akagi waved at the staring group before tightening his hold on the suffering social worker.

“.... Here you are Atsumu.” Shinsuke said, turning away from Akagi to pass the plates of thin meat slices to him. Aran snagged the bowl of dumplings and some sauces before leading the way over to the table and starting to place them within arms reach for all of them.

A soft tugging on Shinsuke’s shirt revealed Osamu blinking up at him.

“Can I help too?” He asked, nearly bouncing when Shinsuke grabbed another sauce and offered it to him. “Thank you Shinsuke-san!”

“I’m assuming everything is going well then.” Oomimi said in his slow voice as he carefully closed the front door and made his way to the kitchen without removing his newly attached mushroom.

“They’re good kids, they’ve just had it a little rough.” Shinsuke nodded, glancing over at the two trying to get the cushions out again. Aran had stepped up behind them to grab some himself and had somehow managed to knock them all over and he was currently on the floor.

“Aran-kun died!” Atsumu called helpfully when he saw Shinsuke looking. He was quickly knocked on the ground himself as Osamu pulled a cushion off of Aran and slammed it into his brother.

“ ‘Tsumu died!” Osamu cheered, squealing as Atsumu scrambled to his feet and tackled him. They fell to the ground, laughing and shoving at each other as Aran slowly sat up.

“Dead people don’t move.” Akagi yelled from Oomimi’s back, happily clinging on with his legs as Oomimi tried to dislodge him for a moment. “Woah now! What if I died? Then where would my new nephews be? Huh ‘Mimi? What’s wrong with you?”

Oomimi didn’t bother to respond, carefully bowing to Shinsuke in apology before lifting up his grocery bag.

“I brought the vegetables.” Oomimi murmured as Shinsuke took the bag before grabbing a knife.

Shinsuke didn’t bother to look over at the boys again as he started to slice the fresh ingredients. It was Aran looking after them after all, if he couldn’t be trusted then none of them could.

Shinsuke finally brought the last plate over as the sun was starting to drop beneath the horizon, the last remnants of the early morning snow still glowing slightly as they stopped melting. Oomimi had finally rid himself of the parasite and had put Akagi down at one end of the table before taking his usual spot beside Kita on the other end of the table. Normally Aran took the other side but today they had their guests who squeezed themselves into the space between their newly acquired Oji-san and Shinsuke-san. Aran, instead, was forced to take the position to keep Akagi from harassing Oomimi.

“Aran…. Aran… Aran just lean back a little, I can see the edge of ‘Mimi’s shirt.” Akagi stage whispered and Aran let out a long suffering sigh.

Shinsuke turned his head down to hide a smile that was trying it’s best to escape as Akagi started sliding his hand over a tired looking Aran. He checked the pot, making sure it was boiling before leaning back and turning to the twins.

“What would you like to eat first?” Shinsuke asked the boys, offering the lid to Oomimi who was quietly filling up his side with noodles and tofu to cook..

“Noodles!”

“Rice!”

“Osamu, you have a bowl of rice in front of you dear. If you boil it it will just get soggy, would you like some noodles as well?” Shinsuke asked as Osamu’s lips drooped slightly. He looked up at the offer, hesitating before slowly nodding and Shinsuke grabbed both of their shares and dropped them in.

“You can add things on top of the rice or we can pour some of the broth over it if you like,” Shinsuke hummed as Osamu perked up and started to dig a small hole into his rice, “now, if you two want to drop a few things in you can.”

Atsumu went directly for the meat dropping in the thin slices of beef with near wild abandon and Oomimi quietly pushed the meat back over to Atsumu side. The child hesitated before snagging two pieces of salmon and stared the pot down as he lowered it down over his own noodles and looked up at Oomimi for approval.

Oomimi smiled and nodded, blinking in surprise when Atsumu seemed to brighten as he fell back with a vibrant smile. He nudged Shinsuke and tilted his head curiously, before he caught a drifting piece of tofu and saved it.

“They’re still recovering, I don’t know the last time they had kind human interaction so they’re just trying to make you happy. I told you, they’re good kids, they’ve just had a hard time.” Shinsuke said softly, watching Osamu lean half over the table to lay his own few slices of beef down.

“ ‘Samu watch out-” Atsumu nearly shouted as Osamu lost his balance and his hand fell on the corner of the sauce plate, splashing it up and over the table.Osamu gasped and dropped the beef into the pot with a splash as he jerked back.

“It was my fault,” The words were out of Atsumu’s mouth before he even realized, arm protectively spread in front of his brother. If anyone was going to be punished, Atsumu thought, he was going to take it.

“Atsumu,” Shinsuke said softly, heart aching at the obvious fear in both of their eyes.

“P-please don’t hurt him, it was me.” Osamu tried to insist, pushing his brother’s arm down.

“Little one, nobody is going to be hurt,” Shinsuke said as he stood, quickly making his way to the kitchen and grabbing a few wet cloths before returning and passing one to Akagi who started to mop up the table.

Atsumu and Osamu watched him like cornered animals, their hands finding each other immediately. Even after all day, they still reverted to their terrified mindset after an accident.

It’s still only day one, Shinsuke reminded himself, we have a long time to help.

“Let me see your hand, Osamu.” Shinsuke said, moving to kneel beside him and holding out his hand for him. Slowly, ever so carefully, Osamu lifted his hand and let Shinsuke take it by his wrist.

“You’re not in trouble, Osamu. It was just an accident,” Shinsuke promised as he ran the wet cloth over his damp hand, “I promise you’re not in trouble. It’s just soy sauce, we can get some more, can’t we Aran?”

“It’s okay,” Aran agreed, moving slowly to his feet and scooping up the dish. He disappeared into the kitchen as Shinsuke finished cleaning off Osamu’s hand and checked it over.

“Well you’re not hurt, so there’s no need for tears right?” Shinsuke said slowly, not sure if the tears were from fear or relief at this point.

Osamu choked out a yes, reaching up to scrub at his eyes. He took a shuddering breath, looking down as Shinsuke finally moved away from him to check on Atsumu. Shinsuke paused for a moment wondering if he should say something before letting the matter drop as he moved to his seat again.

“You can put more in the pot,” Akagi tried to encourage him as Aran returned with the now refilled dish and placed it back in its old spot. Osamu looked up for a second before shaking his head, still shaken.

“Would you like one of us to put things in for you?” Oomimi asked softly, inclining his head slightly at Osamu’s look of confusion. “I don’t mind, I have a few more dishes over here. Do you like carrots?”

Osamu nodded slowly and Oomimi carefully scooped up a few pieces before dropping them in. They went carefully over each item, Osamu nodding or shaking his head with each item and letting Oomimi lay it into the pot to cook.

Atsumu moved to add his own before he sank back down, hand still firmly clutched in Osamu’s. Aran noticed and spoke up before Shinsuke could.

“Would you like dumplings?” He offered, holding one up with a soft smile on his face. Atsumu hesitated, glancing at Shinsuke and then Akagi before he slowly nodded and let it add to his pile.

“What about any vegetables?” Aran asked when Atsumu shook his head at each of the offered pieces. Atsumu’s lips curled in a disgusted frown and Shinsuke had to fight back the urge to laugh in case he startled the child.

“Do you not like them?” Aran asked carefully, eyes on the child when Atsumu flinched.

“I’ll… eat anything you give me…” Atsumu said slowly and the adults frowned, glancing at each other.

“Atsumu, if you really don’t like them we won’t force you to eat them. We just have to find some vegetables you will eat, so you don’t get sick.” Aran explained but Atsumu just shrugged. Perhaps it was that explaining how vegetables worked didn’t quite matter to a six year old, or perhaps Atsumu was still trying to be as obedient as he could.

“I’ll eat them for you.” Osamu tried to whisper, shying away from the glance Akagi gave him.

“It’s okay… I’ll eat them…” Atsumu insisted, turning to Aran. “Please put them in.”

Aran paused, glancing at Shinsuke. Shinsuke could see the question in his eyes, this wasn’t Aran’s child or duty but he still had an idea. Slowly he nodded, staying quiet until he was needed. It was good for the boys to know they had more than just their parent to rely on.

“When I was little, I didn’t like vegetables either. They were so soft and mushy when my parents cooked them that it just made them gross.” Aran said as he watched Atsumu’s eyes widen slightly before they looked away again.

“They’re… they…” Atsumu started, glancing up at Shinsuke.

“You can tell us anything Atsumu, you won’t be in trouble for explaining yourself.” Shinsuke reached out to him slowly and, when Atsumu didn’t flinch away, he brushed away the hair falling into his eyes until it was parted opposite his brothers. Atsumu blinked up at him and then nodded, turning back to Aran as the hand slipped out of his hair.

“It… gets… stuck…” Atsumu explained, reaching up to touch his throat. “And it’s all soft and feels bad on my tongue… I don’t like them.”

“Have you ever eaten them raw?” Aran asked, snagging a piece of broccoli from the small dish. Atsumu blinked at him, head slowly tilting to the side like a dog’s.

“You… can eat them without cooking them? I’ve… had carrots but they just taste weird.” Atsumu asked, glancing around the table with confusion as Shinsuke started to pull his and his brother’s noodles from the pot and dish them up.

Shinsuke nodded to his question, carefully spooning Osamu’s vegetables into his rice hole. He checked on their dumplings before laying them on the side of Atsumu’s plate and turned to look at Aran who was cutting into the broccoli.

“Yep, though I can’t blame you about carrots, sometimes they’re sweet and then sometimes they’re dry so I don’t like carrots either. I do like tomatoes a lot though when they’re all chopped, or cucumbers. Potatoes too.” Aran said, slicing off the head of the broccoli and holding up just the green stick. He leaned over to offer it to Atsumu.

“Try it like this, and if you still don’t like it then we can try and find something else. I’m sure your dad- I’m sure Shinsuke wouldn’t mind. He likes cooking new things.”

Shinsuke tried to pretend that his heart hadn’t skipped more than a few beats at the comment. He tried to silence it, reminding himself that he wasn’t actually their father, just a temporary guardian. Yet as he looked around his dinner table, with Akagi happily dunking his dumplings into the pot and covering it with pork, Oomimi quietly taking bites only to hiss at the heat and do it again, Aran looking so gentle and endeared with the children, and both of the twins staring at the uncooked piece with absolute fascination, he found that it was a new feeling of home that he never wanted to give up.

Atsumu reached up with his own chopsticks to snag it. He stared at it for a minute, watching like it might strike him, before he finally popped it in his own mouth and chewed it.

There was silence as they all watched and Shinsuke was starting to feel bad making Atsumu the center of attention when Atsumu’s frown twisted into a smile instead. He looked up at Aran, eyes sparkling like he’d found the truth in the world.

“That wasn’t super gross!” Atsumu chirped happily. “Can I have some more like that please?”

“Oh, can… can I try too Aran-kun?” Osamu asked, gasping when Aran nodded and pulled more broccoli onto his plate to chop the heads off.

Oomimi watched for a moment before his and Akagi’s chopsticks both flashed and snagged the heads. Aran gasped dramatically, smacking Akagi’s chopsticks away as they went in for another bite only to lose two pieces to Oomimi.

“You guys are terrible bullies.” Aran snapped without fire and the twins laughed quietly at the scandalized look on Akagi’s face.

“I am not a bully, I am an angel that has been gifted to you from the gods themselves, all the gods. Every single one of them, including Kita!” Akagi argued back, whining when he was denied another broccoli head. Aran popped them in his mouth and then the hot pot before passing the now headless pieces to Oomimi to give to Shinsuke who quickly split them up between the two boys.

Shinsuke sighed and shook his head as he started to cook his own meal, keeping an eye on the twins as they started to eat. Atsumu didn’t seem to mind the vegetables at all just like he’d said, though Osamu was quick to pass the raw broccoli over in favor of his soft carrots.

As dinner passed, the boys started to relax again. Quietly laughing as Akagi regaled them with stories of wild adventures out of the country.

“So I’m sitting there in Australia right? And there’s this huge spider like… the size of your head,” Akagi was saying as he popped another dumpling in his mouth as the boys listened completely enraptured. “And I’m like thinking it’s going to eat me and the dude next to me just goes ‘Eh? What’re you doin? Get out of here, this isn’t a hotel for ya’ to the spider and the spider just stares at us and I’m sure I’m going to be gobbled up until the spider turns and runs down the street. Scariest moment of my life.”

Atsumu was nearly pressed against Shinsuke’s leg by the end of it, hand clutching Shinsuke’s wrist like he was afraid Shinsuke was going to leave him alone with the spiders. Osamu, on the other hand, was chowing down on the dumplings while completely entranced in the different stories.

“Shinsuke-san… I never want to see a spider again.” Atsumu whispered and Shinsuke reached up to pat his hair. He gently stroked the thick strands as Akagi started another story about bees.

“Okay okay, enough of the bug stories. It’s very late and we still have to get baths in.” Shinsuke said as Atsumu squeaked and rolled completely into his lap to hide from the story. Osamu whined, though when he saw his brother he stopped and crawled over to pat his back.

“I won’t let the bugs get you.” Osamu said soothingly, smiling when Atsumu’s head peaked over his shoulder to glare at him.

“You can’t stop a bug that could eat Oji-san.” Atsumu snapped, shivering and moving back to his hiding spot as Osamu gasped.

“I could too!”

“Enough you two, come on boys. Let’s go get a bath and if you’re still awake maybe your… Oji-san can pick out a movie before bed.” Shinsuke said, gently patting the boys’ backs until they were standing. Osamu was already yawning so he doubted they would get further than the actual bath.

“Aww, but I wanted Aran-kun to introduce them to volleyball.” Akagi whined, ignoring Aran’s confused look.

“What’s volleyball?” Osamu asked as he slipped over to the table again. Though Shinsuke wasn’t sure if he was hoping for another story or more rice and dumplings.

“It’s only the greatest game ever invented, that all your Oji-sans and your dad- Shinsuke-san played in high school.” Akagi said, already sitting up to explain more before Aran reached over and covered his mouth. He pointed to Shinsuke who was watching him with a half glare and Akagi wilted slightly.

“I’ll show you boys later, okay? Maybe I can teach you a few things while Shinsuke-kun is working or after school okay?” Aran said, letting his hand drop after a moment. His lips pursed and he turned to wipe the drool back onto the culprit’s shirt.

“You’re a twelve year old.”

“I’m your favorite twelve year old, right ‘Mimi?” Akagi chirped while Oomimi turned tired eyes on Shinsuke.

“Save me.” Oomimi said and Shinsuke rolled his eyes. They were all twelve year olds, that's why they all got along so well.

“I’m getting the boys clean, you three clean up.” Shinsuke said, careful not to leave any room for negotiation as he made his way to the wet room. He turned to the two, sighing at the sight of Osamu’s hair finally starting to wilt.

“Okay, we’re just going to take a quick bath after the shower okay? Are you okay if I stay in here?” Shinsuke asked and the twins glanced at each other. They seemed to be talking to each other and Osamu groaned before turning and nodding.

“Yes sir… But ya gotta make sure Atsumu washes his feet! He has gross feet!” Osamu insisted, turning his head away when Atsumu gasped and shoved him.

“You have stinky breath! Stinky breath baby!” Atsumu chanted until Shinsuke hushed them, reaching down to seperate them.

“Enough you two. We’ll scrub our feet and brush our teeth.” How on earth they managed to start a fight over a bath, Shinsuke had no idea. It was honestly almost impressive.

He turned and started to fill up the tub, ordering the twins to strip when another sound came from the doorway. Shinsuke looked up at the sound of plastic rustling to find Akagi holding a bag.

“I bought some bath supplies.” Akagi explained, passing the bag over with a smile at the twins.

Shinsuke opened it and sighed. Shampoo and conditioner were fine but… bubble bath and bath crayons were going to be the death of him. Before he had the chance to hide them away, the twins had already stepped over.

“Oh! Oh! We can have a bubble bath?” Atsumu gasped, turning to Akagi and bowing before he nearly fell on his face from the pants around his ankles. Shinsuke’s arm shot out and caught him, reaching down to tug the pants out from around his feet.

“Sorry Shinsuke-san. Thank you Oji-san!” Atsumu chirped, looking far too vibrant for so late at night. Yet Shinsuke couldn’t say no to that face.

“Alright, we can have a bubble bath, but only once we’re clean…” Shinsuke said, lips twitching at the cheers that rose up from both of the boys. He snagged their clothes, passing them to Akagi.

“Toss these in the boys’ hamper and bring some dry pajamas and leave them next to the towels okay?” Shinsuke passed them over, rolling his eyes at Akagi’s salute.

It wasn’t long before the water was at a decent temperature and the boys moved to sit on the stool under the shower head while Shinsuke turned the bath off and covered it to keep the heat. The shower itself was quick, though it took the combined efforts of Shinsuke and Atsumu to finally get rid of the last of the hair gel.

The boys were soaked and bouncing, accidentally spraying Shinsuke a few times with the water that slipped off their skin, though he didn’t care much. He shuffled them into the bath, pouring in the bubble bath and stirring it until it was completely covered in white clouds.

The twins squealed with delight, smacking at the bubbles quite cheerily. Shinsuke passed over the bath crayons with a vague sense of terror before allowing himself to relax. Whatever happened would happen.

Atsumu was currently drawing the world’s fattest rabbit as Osamu did his best to detail what looked like a pill bug on a piece of paper. Shinsuke settled beside the tub, keeping an eye on them.

“Tomorrow’s probably not going to be as much fun as today.” He said slowly, watching them glance at him before they went back to their drawings. “I have to go to work, but you’re more than welcome to join me or stay with Akagi at home. And you will be starting school next week.”

“Do we have to stay home?” Atsumu asked, adding a tail and then scribbling his own name between it’s ears. “Can we visit the bakery? They have muffins and a little boy just like us!”

“Actually they have three.” Shinsuke said, watching both of them look up excitedly. His heart cracked slightly at their hopeful gazes. They had been pulled away from their last school and now had no friends or a way to contact the old ones, it was probably exciting to know they lived right across from some who might want to be their friends.

“And yes, if you wish you can visit the bakery. But only with me or Akagi until you know the street a little more and the owners can recognize you, okay?”

“Yes Shinsuke-san.” The twins chirped together and Shinsuke watched Osamu glance at Atsumu’s characters before scribbling his brother's name and drawing an arrow to the bug.

“Atsumu’s a bug!” Osamu said with a smirk only to yelp as his brother splashed him and the bug started to melt off the wall. “My bug! Atsumu you bully! Shinsuke-san.”

Shinsuke sighed internally, though he felt incredibly fond of the two already. He never really understood the desire to antagonize one’s fellow child. Even when he was a kid and he met the new foster children his grandmother brought in, he much preferred to get along with them. Perhaps though, it was a way of pushing boundaries because the two clearly loved each other more than anything.

“Atsumu, don’t erase his work. Osamu, you know Atsumu doesn’t like bugs so don’t tease him about it- why are you staring at me?” Shinsuke blinked at the two of them, leaning back as they lifted their markers.

“Shinsuke-san.” Osamu said slowly.

“Yes?”

“Can we draw something on you?” Atsumu continued, making swirls in the air.

Shinsuke froze, taking in the wide eyes that fluttered with innocence. There was absolutely no way in hell he was letting two six years olds draw on his face. He had principles, a reputation, a-

“Sure.” A giant weakness for the sweetest two boys he’s ever met that were already chipping at his heart.

“Do not say a word.” Shinsuke said when he exited the wet room, two half asleep boys in fresh pajamas holding onto his legs. Aran had come to say something, only to freeze halfway down the hall.

His lips were pursed, clearly trying not to burst into laughter but soft snickers were escaping anyways. He turned, a snort echoing down the hall before calling for Oomimi.

“What is it-Oh my god, JoJo’s Circus is here.” Oomimi dead panned, quietly lifting up his phone and snapping three photos. Shinsuke closed his eyes, trying not to let the exhaustion win.

“Come on boys, time for bed.” He said, patting down their mostly dry hair.

“But… you said we would get to watch a movie…” Osamu insisted, only to yawn into his fist.

“Osamu, if you watch a movie now you’re going to fall asleep in it. Let's wait until tomorrow okay? Oji-san will still be here.” Shinsuke soothed, bending down to scoop him up into his arms as he led Atsumu down the hall.

“Oji-san is here-” Akagi said, popping his head out of the kitchen only to freeze at the sight of Shinsuke. “Oji-san is gone, I repeat Oji-san has been killed.”

The howl of laughter made Atsumu jump before he was stumbling trying to keep up with Shinsuke’s longer legs. Shinsuke paused to grab him but Aran stepped forward instead.

“Mind if I carry you to bed?” He asked and Atsumu shook his head, toddling forward to wrap his arms around Aran’s neck. Shinsuke watched as Aran’s face twisted in shock before melting into a look of complete adoration and affection as he scooped the child up.

Together they carried the twins to the bedroom, Osamu was already dead asleep by the time he was being laid down. He whined when Shinsuke pulled his arms from around his neck before he curled against the pillow.

Atsumu sat up though, yawning and rubbing at his eyes. He squinted at the two adults in the room, like he was trying to recognize them.

“What about… Ki-chan?” He asked and Shinsuke tilted his head at him until Atsumu patted the espeon beside his bed. “Osamu’s… sleeping buddy.”

“Oh his fox… Aran, it’s on the couch under the blanket, fetch it for me?” Shinsuke asked, waiting for him to leave before moving to Atsumu’s side. He stroked through his hair as he sat on the edge of his bed, watching his face relax and droop closer to sleep.

“Atsumu. Let me know if you need anything okay? You remember where my room is?” Shinsuke asked, nodding when Atsumu mumbled out the directions. Aran slipped in quietly, nodding to Shinsuke as he pressed the fox into Osamu’s arms and moved back out.

“Good… Get some rest, little one. I’ll see you in the morning.” Shinsuke murmured, though he was sure Atsumu was already asleep as he stood up and walked out.

“Normally I’d insist on talking with you like we usually do… But I think you just need a nap.” Oomimi said lightly, putting away the last of the now dry dishes. He tilted his head towards the couch where Akagi had put on a movie of some sort.

“Will you be going to bed or joining us?” Aran asked and Shinsuke wanted to decline, shake his head and smile before heading to bed. Stronger than that however, was the loneliness that had crept into his chest at the idea of his house falling silent again and it had only been a day.

“I’ll join you.” Shinsuke murmured, allowing himself to be pulled along. He was settled in between Akagi and Aran, Oomimi having stolen the large armchair for himself.

Later, Shinsuke couldn’t tell you what movie it was or what happened. He just remembered falling to his side and a warm body tucking him closer while someone else leaned on his other. Then waking up again slightly to someone carrying him to his bed, murmuring a goodnight before it was all dark again. He woke up at three am to his shirt smelling strangely of a familiar deodorant and the scent of spray on pain reliever like his old volleyball days. When he drifted off again, he couldn’t help but notice the smile that wouldn’t leave his lips.

[go4blood]

can we be seventeen?

It is finally time. Broadway!Michael. Heathers. Best friends to lovers. U know how we do. sorry I’m on mobile and can’t do the read more feature 😔

4k words

—

High School was the time of your life. You spent everyday after school with your best friend in the theatre. You two had many starring roles together, such as Tracy and Link in Hairspray, Sally Bowles and Cliff Bradshaw from Cabaret, and so many more. You two decided you both wanted to take on broadway. That being said, you bought an apartment together- a tiny one that is- in New York City. It was your 2nd month in New York. You loved it more than anything, but you were a starving artist. You had a few commercial roles and did some work in some short films, but you wanted to be on stage. You wanted people applauding you every night. You both wanted that.

But it’s hard to get on broadway. Broadway isn’t something easy to achieve.

The door to your apartment opened and interrupted your thoughts.

“Y/N! The restaurant was super busy today, so I think I got enough tip money to get the WiFi back on.” Michael walked through the door, car keys in hand, wearing a white button shirt with a black tie, along with black dress pants. Michael worked at a fancy Italian restaurant in the heart of New York City that only rich people can afford. He absolutely hated working there. It was far from his dream, but they had to pay the bills somehow. You worked at a coffee house yourself, and most of the time your money went towards bills and necessities only. And people hardly ever tip.

“Thank God! I’ve missed Netflix so much.” He laughed and you grinned, collapsing beside him on the couch. Michael was a great roommate. He always paid his share of everything, and he kept the living area clean. His room is another story, but at least you didn’t have to always see his room.

“I found our next audition! I forgot to tell you, when I was driving to work I saw that Heathers is currently being casted for broadway!”

You sighed, leaning your head on his shoulder, “I’m beginning to think we should’ve stayed home, it’s so hard to make it out here in New York…”

He scoffed, looking at you in your eyes, “Is my best friend, Y/N L/N, the one who forced me to audition for Oklahoma our freshman year, giving up? Come on now, that’s not the Y/N I know! Come on, auditions are tomorrow morning, it’s worth a shot.”

You pondered for a moment, thinking of the possibilities. This is what you came to New York for, after all. Maybe it was worth a shot.

“Fine, we’ll go. Just don’t get your hopes up…”

“I won’t, I promise. Now… I assume we’re having ramen again?”

“You know it.”

—

You sat beside Michael and looked around at who was at the audition. You could already tell that type casting would come into play, which made you nervous. You weren’t sure if you fit into any of these roles. What if you were wasting your time? You’d be lucky if you got to be a chorus member. Michael looked up from the paperwork as if he could sense how nervous you were.

“Relax, Y/N. You’ve been this way since High School! I remember auditions for Hairspray; you nearly had a panic attack the day of callbacks. And you rocked it! What are you scared of?”

“Failure, Michael.” You frowned and looked at him. He sighed, looking into your eyes.

“My best friend has never been a failure. Don’t even begin to think you’re a failure! Every good actor and actress struggled before succeeding.” He gave you a reassuring smile, and weight lifted off of your shoulders. Maybe he was right. In fact, he was right. You have to fall before you fly sometimes.

“Thank you, Michael.” You smiled as he smiled back at you. You wouldn’t wanna be struggling with anyone else.

A woman who seemed to be the director interrupted your thoughts, “Good morning everyone, welcome to the audition for Heathers. Shall we begin?” Everyone silently nodded, and the director cleared her throat, “the numbers my assistant gave to you when you walked in will now come into play… let’s start with #1. Come on up.”

You froze. You were #1. No pressure, right? You got up from your seat and walked up onto the stage, ready to perform the provided audition material. All of the girls were using audition material for the part of Veronica, the lead female part. No pressure.

You introduced yourself briefly and began, projecting with purpose, “My parents wanted to move me into high school out of the sixth grade, but we decided to chuck the idea because I’d have trouble making friends, blah, blah, blah. Now blah, blah, blah is all I ever do. I use my grand IQ to decide what color lip gloss to wear in the morning and how to hit three keggers before curfew… Betty Finn was a true friend and I sold her out for a bunch of Swatch dogs and Diet Coke heads. Killing Heather would be like offing the wicked witch of the west… wait east. West! God! I sound like a fucking psycho….Dear Diary: Heather told me she teaches people “real life.” She said, real life sucks losers dry. You want to fuck with the eagles, you have to learn to fly. I said, so, you teach people how to spread their wings and fly? She said, yes. I said, you’re beautiful.”

You emphasized certain things and changed tone when you felt it was needed. You wanted this so bad. But this wasn’t it! This was a musical, so you had to sing. You looked at the music provided for you and cued the piano player to begin playing. The song you were told to sing was “Fight For Me”. You sang each note with purpose. You wanted this more than anything. Before you knew it, you were done with your audition, and you sat back down in the audience beside Michael. He mouthed ‘good job’ to you, smiling. Before he knew it, it was his turn to audition.

The men auditioning read material for JD, the leading male part. You looked over what Michael had to perform, and the monologue was quite intense.

He cleared his throat and began with an intense tone of voice, “Can't believe you did it! I was teasing. I loved you! Sure, I was coming up here to kill you... First I was gonna try and get you back with my amazing petition. It's a shame you can't see what our fellow students really signed. Listen ‘We, students at Westerburg High will die. Today. Our buring bodies will be the ultimate protest to a society that degrades us. Fuck you all!’ It's not very subtle, but neither is blowing up a whole school, now is it? Talk about your suicide pacts, eh? When our school blows up tomorrow, it's gonna be the kind of thing that affects a whole generation! It'll be the Woodstock for the 80's! Damn it Veronica! We could have roasted marshmallows together!”

He was so talented. You would be damned if he didn’t get a role in this production. He then finished out his audition with the song “Meant To Be Yours”. He did amazing. He always put his all into his auditions. You were proud to be his friend. He walked off stage after he finished, and you both left.

—

As each day passed you absolutely could not stop thinking about callbacks. You were so anxious about whether you were gonna get one or not. You at least hoped Michael would get one so he could live out his dream if you couldn’t.

With each latte you made at work all that was on your mind was the possibility of getting a callback. At one point, you couldn’t even remember how to make an iced americano. They said they’d call you no matter what to let you know, which made you even more anxious. And everyday Michael came home from work all he talked about was callbacks and how bad he wanted this opportunity.

“I know you’ll make it, Michael. I mean come on, you’re extremely talented and you knocked that audition out of the park!”

“I did mediocre at best! You’re the one who’s gonna make it. You’re gonna be amazing in that cast. I’d rather you get it than me.”

You laid your head on his shoulder, looking up into his eyes, “You mean that, Mikey?”

“Would I lie to you? No. I wouldn’t. You’re amazing.”

—

You ran into Michael’s room after your shift at the coffee shop, shaking him awake, “I just got a callback during my shift! I get another audition tomorrow!”

“I got one too! While you were gone! We got callbacks!”

You two jumped up onto Michael’s bed and jumped in celebration. You were unbelievably happy.

“Well you know what that means… it’s a special occasion!” Michael ran to the kitchen and you followed behind him. He pulled out the boxed wine from the cabinet and got the plastic wine glasses out too.

The boxed wine was a tradition in your friendship. When you were casted in Hairspray sophomore year, he got his older friend to get it for him. It was cheap and lasted a while, so it was his number one choice. After high school graduation he brought it to your house after your grad party. And when you moved into the apartment, you had Dominos and boxed wine. It had a special place in your heart.

You put some wine in your cup and clinked your glass with his. Maybe it was finally time.

“Now let’s get wine drunk at 2 in the afternoon, shall we?” He smirked at you and you couldn’t help but laugh, knowing damn well he was a lightweight. It was gonna be a long day. Michael got up and connected his phone to the Bluetooth speaker, playing one of his playlists and taking your free hand in his.

“Michael what the hell are you doing?”

“Dancing! Duh!” He downed his wine glass and spun you around, laughing loudly.

You shook your head, putting down your glass and joining him, despite your lack of dance ability.

“You are the dancing queen, young and sweet, only… how old are we again? Who knows!” Michael was so carefree, and seeing him have no care in the world always warmed your heart.

“Hey Michael?”

“Yeah Y/N?”

“I knew I moved to New York with the right person.

—

You and Michael woke up extremely early the next morning for callbacks. The callback went well in your opinion, and Michael seemed to feel good about his as well. But after your callback it was back to the minimum wage job with less than mediocre tips. You had to wait a whole week until you’d find out if the callback resulted in you getting a role. It was gonna be the longest week of your life. As everyday passed and you made countless lattes and iced coffees all you thought of was your callback. It invaded your mind at every second of the day. No callback had stressed you out as much as this one. This one wasn’t some high school production from back home. This could be your big break for crying out loud! This was the most stress you had ever felt in your life.

When the day finally came around you and Michael waited around the apartment with phone in hand all day. The phone call you two were about to get would decide your futures. You paced around the living room, unable to stand still. Finally, Michael’s phone was the first to ring. He immediately picked up, sitting on the couch while biting his nails nervously.

“Hello? Yes this is him… yes I would. Thanks so much… alright goodbye.” He hung up, a solemn look on his face. You felt like you already knew what he was gonna say.

He then broke out into a grin, hugging you, “You’re looking at broadways new Jason Dean!”

You smacked his chest, gasping, “how dare you worry me like that, Michael!” You laughed, returning his hug happily. Shortly after, your phone also rang.

You answered, with a shaky voice, “Hello? Yes this is she… okay, yes I would, okay… thank you, goodbye.”

You were shocked. You looked at Michael, eyes dilated and full of disbelief, “I got the part… I-I’m Veronica…”

“No way! I get to lead with my best friend? This is amazing! We did it!” He hugged you, lifting you off of the ground.

You felt larger than life. You finally got to live out your dream. You were absolutely thrilled.

—

The first rehearsal was mainly just line running and song singing without much blocking and a brief dance rehearsal. Broadway was quite a shell shock. Rehearsals were triple the length of high school rehearsals, and dances were taught by actual choreographers, not the schools dance team coach. It was extremely different. It worried you- what if you couldn’t handle it? As you read lines your mind was in a whirlwind, and Michael could tell.

The director told everyone to take a 15 minute break, and you immediately broke down into a rant of how stressed you were to Michael.

“What if I’m not good enough for this? I’ve gotten so many notes from the director on things to do differently and it’s only day 1! I just wanna be the best I can be, I’m not usually cast into this type of role! I’m never usually a cocky or sassy type of character, I’m not good enough for this-“

Michael interrupted you during your extremely long rant, “Y/N! You’re doing great, it’s literally the first day. Everyone’s getting a lot of notes. You are fine. You always get in your head in the first week of rehearsals. You’re so talented and you deserve this, just calm down. Come on, smell the flowers, blow out the candles. Smell the flowers, blow out the candles. You’ve got this! I wouldn’t wanna plot revenge with anybody else, Veronica.”

You smiled, wrapping your arms around him and hugging him tightly. He always knew what to say in these situations.

“You’re not the only one getting notes ya know? You always panic, it worries me.” You frowned, you never meant to worry him. It was just the way you were. You were always hypercritical of yourself, and it got worse as you got older. It wasn’t all your fault though.

“You know why, Michael. My parents never came to any of the shows… I fought to please them, thinking maybe they’d come one of the nights of the show. They never did. They ruined my self esteem.” At that point you were just venting, and you felt bad after the realization. You quickly stopped talking, walking back on stage keeping your eyes glued to the floor.

The director loudly interrupted your thoughts with a loud clap, “Okay everyone, we’re gonna do the number for Meant To Be Yours, so get on up here, Michael.”

Michael quickly got up on the stage, flipping through his script to the right page. You had a few lines before he started singing, so you took your place behind the “closet door”.

Michael cleared his throat, putting on his angsty evil teen voice, “Knock! Knock! Sorry for coming in through the window. Dreadful etiquette, I know!” This part seemed to be written just for him. He was so good at being the odd guy.

You got out of your thoughts, replying with your line to his remark through the closet door set piece, “Get out of my house!”

Michael scoffed, jiggling the door knob and continuing on with the scene, “Hiding in the closet? Come on, unlock the door! Come out and get dressed, you’re my date to the pep rally tonight!” He then began singing the song, yelling through the door at certain parts. You had to admit, it felt like he was actually your psychotic boyfriend. He really knew what he was doing.

You were interrupted by him singing/yelling the next part of the song, “Veronica! Open the—open the door, please Veronica, open the door…” he finished the song, letting out an exasperated breath.

“So, um, any notes? To make it better…”

The director had a look of shock on her face, but good shock though. She looked at her notepad, and then looked up, “This is an amazing start, you’re making great character decisions. I think when you sing through the door you could act more desperate for her to come out, maybe beat on the door, not just yell through it. Maybe we could give you a prop? Like a gun? We’ll see. Other than that, it’s really great. Good job.”

Michael nodded, thanking her and walking down the stairs of the stage.

“Alright, y/n! We’re gonna do the opening scene, the dear diary one. Do what you think is right and I’ll give notes, as per usual. Alright?”

You nodded, sitting at the plastic table that would soon be a lunch table once the actual set was set up.

You mimed a notebook in front of you, taking a deep breath, “September 1st, 1989. Dear Diary:

I believe I'm a good person. You know, I think that there's good in everyone, but—here we are! First day of senior year! And uh... I look around at these kids that I've known all my life and I ask myself—what happened?” This then transitioned to you singing Beautiful. You only got through half of the song due to how much blocking was needed for this number in particular.

The director read off of her notes, “Alright, Y/N, so all I really have is that I want you to be more confident. I gave you this part for a reason, I believe in you. Just breathe, okay?”

You nodded, thanking her and walking off stage. You grabbed your bag and left to the subway with Michael.

“I told you you were doing good! You just need to believe in yourself, ya dingus.” He ruffled your hair and you blushed, nodding slowly.

“Michael, I think you’re the most talented person I know.”

“Well then you obviously haven’t met yourself.”

—

After what felt like a billion rehearsals, which was really just 2 months of rehearsals, costume day finally came! The best and worst day. A lot of things can go wrong. But a lot of the time, costume day is great.

You had one costume for the whole show, which you were secretly grateful for. Quick changes just stressed you out. Your costume was a grey pleated skirt that hit your mid thigh, blue knee high socks, a white blouse, and a blue blazer to go over the blouse. The director wanted everyone to be used to performing in their costumes, so you’d be rehearsing with them for the next 2 weeks until opening night.

Michael wore all black attire. His costume included a black t shirt, a black trench coat, black jeans, and clunky black boots. In all honesty, he did not look approachable. But at the same time, he intrigued you even more. With each rehearsal, you were thinking about Michael a lot more than usual, and in a different way than usual.

Were you attracted to your best friend?

Oh god. This could not be happening.

You knew way too much about him. His mother practically adopted you as her own. It would be so awkward if your feelings shined through. Your mind was racing, everything made sense.

When he would cup your cheek in one of your scenes and would immediately blush, when he would call you nicknames in your scenes and you broke into a huge grin, it was because you liked him as more than a friend.

“Y/N! How do ya like my costume?” Michael did a twirl and bowed, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Wow what a handsome teen psychopath you are, Michael.” He laughed, muttering a thank you.

“Um, you look nice in yours. Much less psycho looking, 10 out of 10.”

You laughed, twirling to show him the whole costume, “Why thank you, JD. How kind of you.”

He smiled at you, looking in your eyes for a little while.

He quickly got out of his trance, looking around awkwardly, “Um, well, let’s take our promotional photos then shall we?”

You nodded, following him to where the photographer was.

“We’re definitely getting drunk tonight, I need a breather.”

—

You and Michael were in the living room, playing Mario Kart on the Nintendo Switch whole drinking, you guessed it, boxed wine. You were both extremely drunk, laughing at every little thing.

“Did you seriously just hit me with a blue shell!?”

Michael laughed, “Sorry! I can't accept losing to you, princess.” His voice had a tinge of sarcasm, which was far from surprising.

You pouted, desperately trying to get your number one spot back. But to your defeat, Michael took your spot at the last minute and got first place.

“How dare you!”

He laughed as you tackled him on the couch, resulting in a slight spill of both of your glasses as the coffee table shook.

“Sorry babe, I won fair and square.” His tone had a slight bit of flirtiness to it. Blushing at the nickname, you got up and got yourself more to drink.

“Alright, I lost, what do you want your prize to be? I buy your lunch tomorrow? It’s done.”

“I don’t need anything… let’s just chill now, yeah?”

You nodded, sitting beside him on the couch and laying your head on his shoulder.

“Y/N, you know I wouldn’t wanna be anyone else’s costar, right?”

“Michael, you tell me that everyday.”

“Well, it’s true. God, I’m tired of pretending,” he sat up, looking you straight in the eyes, “I came with you to New York not just to pursue acting. I came here because I care about you more than anything. You make everyday a little better. I was in such a bad place before we met freshman year. I literally love you so much.”

“Yeah I love you too-“

“No Y/N! I’m in love with you! When we do our scenes together I can’t help but think about us being together! I can’t help but imagine me affectionately cupping your cheek and kissing you outside of the show. I can’t help that I actually think I’m meant to be yours! And no, this is not the alcohol talking. I’ve always felt this way. I felt this way when we were in every other show together! I want to shout from the rooftops that I love you!” He gripped your waist and kissed you deeply, pulling you onto his waist.

His kiss was intoxicating. You didn’t know how bad you wanted this. You finally realized that he was who you wanted all along.

“You may be set out to kill the whole school so we can be together, but I love you too, Michael.”

—

Opening night you were warming up in your dressing room when a knock came at your door. The stage manager gave you your 20 minute warning, while also handing you a large arrangement of roses.

“Who are these from? No one I know is coming to see me tonight…” You looked at the notecard that came with it, and it all made sense.

My dearest Veronica,

I’m glad I get to share the stage with raw talent tonight. And you I guess (Just kidding). Break a leg, and let’s fake some deaths tonight! I love you.

- JD

You never felt more in love.

—

Taglist!!

@i-calumhood @angelbabylu

[hearts-hunger]

Funny How Love Is || bxjxg

Summary: After a long day of failed auditions, Joe can’t stop thinking how he’s never quite good enough. Funny how love is always there to drown out doubt and remind him of how loved he is, especially by his two boyfriends.

Pairings: Ben Hardy x Joe Mazzello x Gwilym Lee || poly!borhap boys

Genre: Fluff, slight angst

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: None!

A/N: Hello lovelies!! I promised I’d give you some fluffy bxjxg by the end of the day, so here it is! That pic of Ben and Gwil on Gwil’s insta got me so soft that it actually kickstarted my dumb brain into writing for them again, and of course I had to write Joe in too. I hope you like it! ♡

Joe didn’t know exactly what it was that had made his day so horrible. Maybe it was the traffic, which he despised but usually tuned out of by calling one of his boyfriends. Maybe it was the fact that his phone had died just as he tried to call, leaving him stuck in the motionless car with no distractions. Maybe it was the same five songs that every radio station seemed to play, those top hits that he liked to dance to when he was tipsy but really would be happy never to hear while sober. Maybe it was the words of the casting director that kept echoing in his head without anything to drown it out, repeating over and over choice phrases that he’d been no stranger to in his acting career. We just don’t think you’re right for the part. You’ve got some good ideas but we’re going in a different direction. Sorry, Mr. Mazzello. We’ll give you a call when we decide.

Yeah, he knew what that meant. He’d get no such call, he could guarantee. Maybe it was arrogant on his part, but he’d thought that after landing Bohemian Rhapsody, casting directors everywhere would be begging for him to come audition for them. He’d found it was kind of the opposite; no matter how much money Borhap had made, Joseph Mazzello still wasn’t a big name in Hollywood, and people were looking for big names. Names that had made it onto more than one A-list movie in the past two decades.

He gripped the steering wheel a little tighter than necessary - really, traffic was crawling, so he could have put the car in park - and took a steadying breath. One rejected audition didn’t mean his whole career was coming to an end. He needed to be patient. He needed to keep trying.

He needed to stop hearing that damn casting director’s voice on repeat, is what he needed.

He fiddled with the radio again, tuning it to the station that played oldies and actually played Queen pretty consistently. No such luck this time, though - David Byrne’s voice crooned out through the speakers in its clipped way, oddly grating to Joe at the moment.

He turned the radio off with a huff. “Yeah, I’m about to be a psycho killer if this traffic doesn’t start moving.”

He was ready to be home. It had been a long and disheartening day, and he was just ready to be home and lay on the couch in sweatpants and watch reruns of X-Files on Fox. Maybe have some wine, possibly take a long and boiling hot shower. Anything to self-soothe from having to submit to the mortifying ordeal of giving his all to an audition only to be rejected, yet again.

“Finally,” he muttered to himself as traffic began to move. He eased the car up to the speed limit after inching forward for nearly half an hour and felt some of the tension in his shoulders ease.

He got home over an hour after he said he’d be back, night starting to fall over Belgravia and easing the temperature down with a cool breeze through the darkening sky. Looking up at the second floor windows of the brownstone, he couldn’t help but feel comforted at the warm light spilling between the sheer curtains and onto the street below. Double checking the car was locked, he headed up the steps to the front door, straightening his shoulders so as not to immediately give away how tired he felt.

The sound of “Funny How Love Is” greeted him as he closed the front door behind him, drifting in from where it was playing softly in the living room. He put his keys and his wallet on the little catch-all table in the foyer as he closed the door behind him.

“Honey, I’m home,” he called.

“Oh, fuck you!” came Ben’s voice from the living room.

Joe gave a surprised laugh at the reply, a smile crossing his face for the first time all day as kicked off his shoes. He made his way into the living room and found Ben on the couch, intently playing Mario Kart.

“That’s one hell of a way to greet your boyfriend,” Joe teased.

Ben gestured hopelessly to the screen. “I was in first place and Toad ran me right off.”

Joe saw Ben was playing Rainbow Road, and he could understand his boyfriend’s frustration. “So, that wasn’t directed at me?”

Ben looked mildly panicked. “God, no, sorry.” He gave Joe a smile. “Hi, honey. I’m glad you’re home. Come here.”

Joe sat next to Ben on the couch as he paused the game, tossing the controller aside in favor of taking Joe’s face in his hands and giving him a few gentle kisses.

“There,” he said. “Better?”

Joe couldn’t help but smile. “Much better, thank you.”

He propped his feet on the coffee table and leaned his head on Ben’s shoulder, enjoying the closeness. “You can keep playing if you want. Gotta show Toad who’s boss.”

Ben laughed, a warm and comforting sound, taking the controller in hand again as he started another race.

“And if you can’t beat Toad on Peach Beach, I’m officially disowning you,” Joe added.

Ben snorted. “Okay, dad, thanks.”

Joe was content to sit in silence and watch Ben play, listening as he sang along with Queen in his warm voice.

“Funny how love is everywhere, just look and see,” he sang almost out of habit. “Funny how love is anywhere you’re bound to be.”

Joe closed his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief, sinking into the sound of Ben’s voice and the feel of his warmth. Ben was practically a furnace; he usually wore his dozens of soft hoodies not because he was cold but because he was a very tactile person, enjoying physical touch and substituting with sweatshirts when he couldn’t have any.  

“So… how did your audition go?” Ben asked as the track switched to “Seven Seas of Rhye”, distracted by the video game but still wanting to engage with him.

Joe started to say that he didn’t want to talk about it, but he was saved from answering Ben as Gwil appeared on the stairs. Gwil smiled as he came down to the living room with a hoodie in hand, the corners of his eyes crinkling behind his round glasses.

“Thought I heard you come in,” he said. “How was your day, love?”

“Fine,” Joe said, trying for nonchalance. “Do you have a headache?”

While Gwil usually wore his glasses closer to bedtime and both Ben and Joe adored it, thinking it made Gwil’s sharp-featured beauty look a bit softer, they’d also learned that he wore them when he got headaches.

“No, thankfully,” Gwil said. “But my contacts were bothering me a bit.” He tossed the hoodie to Ben, who paused his game to pull it on.

“I couldn’t find the one you asked for,” Gwil said. “So I just grabbed one of mine.”

Ben gave him a smile. “‘S perfect, love, thanks.”

Gwil watched Ben go back to the game with a gentle smile on his face. That was Joe’s favorite part of being in a relationship with the two of them, seeing how they looked at each other like they hung the moon.

Joe warmed as that same gentle affection was turned on him, Gwil studying his face with a shadow of concern in his own before holding his hand out to Joe.

“Come on into the kitchen with me, Joey.”

Joe sighed and took Gwil’s hand, standing from his spot next to Ben on the couch. He almost wanted to stay with the blonde, knowing that Ben wouldn’t ask him questions about his day while he was focusing on the game. Gwil, though, had no such distractions, and Joe felt the weight of his admittedly vague answer between them.

“Tea?” Gwil asked, filling the kettle at the sink.

Joe took a seat at the bar. “Sure. Thanks.”

“There’s dinner leftover if you want some,” Gwil said, setting the kettle to heat on the stove. “I wasn’t sure if you’d eaten, since you came home later than you said. I tried to call but it went straight to voicemail.”

Joe ran a hand over his face. “Yeah, my phone died right as I left and I got caught in traffic. What’d you make?”

“It was Ben, actually,” Gwil said with a smile. “Chicken parmesan. I can heat some up for you if you want.”

“That’s ok,” Joe said. “I might have some later.”

In all honesty he felt kind of queasy at the thought of admitting that he hadn’t gotten the job. He stared blankly at the kettle on the stove, the casting director’s voice kept ringing in his ears. You’re just not what we’re looking for.

“Joe,” Gwil said.

He looked up to see Gwil taking three mugs down from the cabinet. “Hm?”

Gwil’s smile was colored with a bit of sadness. “I asked you what kind of tea you wanted.”

“Oh, sorry. Um, whatever you’re having. I don’t care.”

That wasn’t necessarily true; Ben and Gwil both knew Joe’s favorite tea was Darjeeling, and Gwil fixed it for him despite his answer. Joe felt a strange kind of ache as he watched Gwil make tea for the three of them, humming softly to himself, wiping up a spilled drop of water with the sleeve of his cozy black sweater. It was the same kind of ache he’d felt before they were together, when he’d found himself wanting to be held and comforted by the tall Welshman but not knowing how to ask.

“Where’d you go?” Gwil asked, giving him his tea.

Joe drew his mug close. “What do you mean?”

“You were miles away just then,” Gwil said. He smiled. “Just wanted to see where you’d got off to.”

“Nowhere,” he lied, running a hand over his face. “Just tired, that’s all.”

Gwil looked like he was about to say something, probably pushing back on the “just tired” excuse, but Ben’s voice cut him off from the living room.

“Did you make tea?” he asked.

“Yes, love,” Gwil called back. “Yours is ready if you want it.”

A moment later, Ben came into the kitchen; he took a seat next to Joe at the bar, pulling the sleeves of Gwil’s hoodie over his hands.

“Thanks,” he said as Gwil handed him a mug.

“My pleasure,” Gwil said, leaning on his elbows on the counter close to them. He bobbed his tea bag a few times, the water turning a honey color as the herbal tea he always drank seeped in.

“Say, you didn’t ever tell me how your audition went,” Ben said, nudging his shoulder lightly against Joe’s.

“You were a little distracted,” Joe said, trying for a joke and also trying to avoid the question again.

Ben smiled. “Yeah, but now I’m all yours. How was it?”

Joe wrapped his hands around the mug, feeling the warmth of it against the sudden chill of anxiety that made its way through him. “Um...” He felt a vague fight-or-flight feeling kick in, and searched for a way to get out from under the question without it being woefully obvious.

“Yeah, I’ll tell you all about it in a minute,” he said, standing. “I’m just gonna… go to the bathroom real quick.”

Oh, good job, Joe. He mentally kicked himself as his boyfriends gave him looks that mixed confusion and concern.

“Is everything ok?” Gwil asked.

Joe rubbed the back of his neck like he did when he was nervous, immediately making himself stop as soon as he noticed he was doing it. It was his biggest tell when he was lying or upset, and if they hadn’t already seen right through him like he was sure they had, his hand on the back of his neck was a dead giveaway.

“Yeah, fine.” Again, he tried for a joke. “I had to pee before I left, and sitting in traffic didn’t do me any favors. I’ll be right back.”

Before either of them could say anything or he could embarrass himself further, he made his escape up the stairs to the master bathroom. He could have gone to the guest bathroom downstairs, but he wanted a whole floor’s difference between him and his boyfriends who were surely talking about him now that they were alone. He splashed cool water on his face, glancing up at his reflection; he was red-cheeked with embarrassment, and he only flushed deeper when he thought of going back downstairs again. They’d probably take the hint and not ask him about it again - doubtless they’d guessed he didn’t get the part - but he’d still made such a huge deal about it that they were sure to walk on eggshells around him.

As he turned off the faucet and buried his face in a towel, he heard quiet bickering coming from the other side of the bathroom door.

“He obviously doesn’t want to talk about it,” Gwil was saying in a hushed voice. “Maybe we should just let it drop.”

“Maybe something’s really wrong,” Ben insisted, his tone matching his boyfriend’s. “Maybe it hasn’t got to do with the audition at all.”

Gwil was quiet for a moment. “You don’t think he’d hide something important, do you?”

Joe could picture Ben shrugging in response.

“He’s been like this since he walked through the door,” Ben said. “I’m worried, Gwil. This seems like a lot of fuss for one silly audition.”

“I agree,” Gwil said. “But maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s something different.”

Joe sighed. Why couldn’t he have just admitted he didn’t get the part and gotten it over with? He felt bad that he’d whipped his boyfriends up into a state of panic with his behavior; he knew it was childish. To have to go and tell them that it was indeed just the failed audition that had gotten him this upset, and not some life-threatening news worthy of a whole charade like the one he’d put on, was nearly too much to bear. He couldn’t hide in the bathroom forever, though, and after a few steadying breaths he went out into their bedroom.

Ben and Gwil broke apart from where they’d been talking closely together on the foot of the bed, trying to act as if they hadn’t just been in intent conversation about him. He almost smiled as he shrugged off his jacket and went to hang it in the closet; it was a small comfort that they were as bad as he was at acting like everything was fine. He stayed in the closet longer than he needed to, trying to buy himself some time or wait for them to say something.

Their hushed voices started up again, and Joe heard Ben say he was going to ask.

Gwil took Ben’s hand as he stood, trying to get him to sit back down. “Wait, Ben, just - ”

“Joey,” Ben said in his regular speaking voice, the baritone colored with concern. He gave Gwil’s hand a reassuring squeeze before letting it go and coming over to the closet.

“Please tell us what’s wrong,” he said.

Joe brushed past him and went to take off his watch, setting it on top of the dresser. “Nothing’s wrong,” he said, feeling a flare of frustration. Why couldn’t they have just let it go?

“Come on, sweetheart, you’ve been acting out of sorts since you came in the door,” Ben said. “We’re just worried about you.”

Joe huffed and carded his hand through his hair. “Fine,” he said. “I didn’t get the part, but you already knew that. That’s what’s wrong. Now can we please not talk about it any more?”

The words tasted bitter on his mouth, and now that he’d said them instead of just implied them, they couldn't be taken back.

“So…” Gwil ventured, “it is just the audition?”

“What, that’s not enough?” Joe snapped. He didn’t like that he was talking to his boyfriends like this, but he couldn’t seem to get a hold of his frustration and shame.

“No,” Gwil said, a bit surprised at Joe’s tone. “I mean, not getting a part is never fun, sure. But you’re not usually like this about it.”

Joe gave a derisive laugh. “Yeah, because I’ve had so many failed auditions that we know how I’m going to react to them.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Gwil said, pained that he’d wounded his boyfriend further. “We’ve all had plenty of failed auditions before. What I meant was that even out of the three of us, you’re usually the one who takes it best.”

That was true, and it was probably most of the reason why they were pressing him so hard about it this time. Gwil would brood and mull over his audition for hours on end if he didn’t get one, trying to see what he’d done wrong; Ben could get downright sulky if he got turned down. Joe, though, was always the one to crack a joke, to say that he hadn’t wanted the part anyways, to say they were probably going to go with someone else because the industry had a thing against redheads. He’d rarely taken a loss like he had this one, and he didn’t blame his boyfriends for being overly concerned.

Joe ran a hand over his face, annoyed at the sting of tears he felt.

“What was it about this one that made it so hard, Joe?” Gwil asked. “I don’t remember you saying you wanted it that badly, but I’m sorry if you did and I forgot.”

“No, it’s ok,” Joe said tiredly. Truth be told he hadn’t been very excited about this part, but at this point he figured he’d take what he could get.

He almost laughed. Of course, he’d been scraping the bottom of the barrel and had still come up empty. That was par for the course, wasn’t it?

“I just…” He shook his head. “Maybe it’s time to throw in the towel, you know?”

Ben and Gwil both frowned, surprise and confusion warring for dominance in their expressions. Ben sat at the foot of the bed again next to Gwil, both of them waiting patiently to hear what Joe meant even as they worried over him. Gwil put his hand over Ben’s to let the younger man know that it had been good to get Joe talking about this.

Joe sighed. “It’s been months since awards season, and I haven’t gotten any jobs.”

“That’s nothing to worry about, though,” Gwil said. He gave a wry smile. “You don’t get jobs lined up like that unless you work for Marvel or something.”

“You did,” Joe protested. “Both of you got jobs as soon as you got off Borhap.”

“Not big ones, though,” Gwil said. “Top End’s only playing in Australia, for god’s sake.”

“And I’ll only be in Six Underground for ten minutes, tops,” Ben agreed. “It’s not like I’m headlining my own box-office hit.”

“Still,” Joe said, unconsoled. “They’re still jobs. You’re still actors that people want to cast. I’m just…”

You’re just not what we’re looking for, the casting director’s voice filled in for him. That had been the constant, through all of it - everybody else could get a job, but Joe was never what anybody was looking for.

He hung his head. “Maybe I’m just not good enough.”

If he’d expected wild protest from his boyfriends, he didn’t get it. For a split second he had the dreadful feeling their silence was agreement, but no sooner had the thought crossed his mind than he felt Ben’s arms around him, pulling him close. He let himself be held, burying his face in Ben’s hoodie.

“Oh, Joey,” Gwil said, running a hand over his back and gently kissing the parts of his face that weren’t hidden against Ben’s chest. “That’s not true and you know it.”

“Why can’t I get a part, then?” he asked, his voice muffled by the fabric of Ben’s hoodie.

Gwil sighed. “I dunno, love. All I know is that every one of those movies would have been lucky to have you. You’re incredibly talented, Joe. You just haven’t found the right part yet.”

“And everybody who said no to you has no idea what they’re missing,” Ben agreed. He pulled back to look at Joe’s face, brushing away the few tears that Joe hadn’t managed to keep at bay. “Okay?”

Joe nodded. “Okay.” He knew he wouldn’t be fully convinced until he landed another job, but for now it was enough to lean on his boyfriends’ confidence in him.

“Sorry about…” He sighed. “Everything. I should have just told you.”

“That’s ok, love,” Gwil said. He brushed back Joe’s slightly mussed hair. “Why don’t you have a bath, hm? Wind down a bit before bed, how does that sound?”

“Only if you two join me,” he said.

Smiles surfaced on both of their faces.

“I think that can be arranged,” Gwil said, at the same time Ben said “do you even have to ask?”

Ben and Joe got comfy pajamas laid out for the three of them while Gwil drew the bath, leaving the bathroom lights off. They came into the bathroom greeted by the scent of rose bath salts and the warm glow of the candles they’d bought for just this purpose. Joe wasn’t even in the bath before he felt the tension leave his tired body, his boyfriend’s gentle hands helping him out of his clothes and into the warm water enough to erase a lifetime’s worth of worry. Gwil got in behind him and Ben across from them, their legs tangled together in the middle. Joe leaned back against Gwil’s chest as Gwil comfortably wrapped his arms around him. Ben traced up and down Joe’s thigh with a gentle touch.

“Okay, Benny?” Gwil asked.

Ben smiled. “Perfect. Though you both owe me lots of cuddles when we get in bed.”

Both Gwil and Joe gave a soft laugh.

“Come here, you,” Joe said, leaning forward to kiss Ben. The feel of Ben’s mouth on his and Gwil’s warm hand on his back made Joe almost lightheaded with happiness. He rested his forehead against Ben’s for a minute, drinking in the closeness of the two people he loved most in the world, the two people who showed him tirelessly that he was good enough, even when everything else was telling him he wasn’t.

He leaned back against Gwil and kissed his scruffy jaw, feeling Gwil’s smile.

“Thank you,” Joe said. “Both of you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Gwil twined his fingers with Joe’s. “Lucky for you, you’re stuck with us.”

Ben took their entwined fingers in his hands and brought them to his lips, peppering them with gentle kisses and tracing circles over their knuckles with the pad of his thumb.

“Gwil and I love you so much, Joey,” Ben said against their hands. “You’re perfect, you know? Absolutely perfect.”

Joe’s cheeks pinked and he turned his face to hide against Gwil. Gwil chuckled and kissed his temple.

“It’s true, love,” Gwil said. “You are perfect. And pretty soon some casting director’s going to see that as plainly as we do, I promise.”

“I love you,” Joe said. That one was just for Gwil, and he knew it; he drew Joe closer and gave a sigh of contentment.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

Joe lightly nudged Ben in the ribs with his heel, drawing a giggle from the blonde as Joe had hoped it would. Ben was very ticklish, and his innocent laughter was one of the most beautiful sounds Joe had ever heard.

“I love you,” Joe told him. He couldn’t help but smile at Ben’s grin.

“I love you too, Joey,” he said. “Even more than Mario Kart.”

Gwil gave a huff of a laugh. “Charming.”

“It’s okay, Gwil,” Ben said. “I love you more than Mario Kart too.”

“Did I ever mention how irresistible your skills for romance were?” Gwil asked.

They all laughed and settled closer to each other, limbs tangled in the warm water, Ben’s skin fairly shimmering in the gold light, Gwil’s big hands belying their true softness as they traced over whichever parts of his boyfriends he could reach. Ben hummed “Funny How Love Is” in the companionable stillness, and Joe felt it was rather appropriate. Funny how love is everywhere, just look and see. Funny how love is anywhere you’re bound to be.

Even if he never got cast again in his life, he’d still gotten Borhap, and that was the only that mattered because it was what brought him to Ben and Gwil. Tomorrow brings love in the shape of things. Even if tomorrow brought audition after failed audition, it would still bring him another day with the two loves of his life. It would still bring him to loving and being loved in a hundred different ways by the two people who made everything right in the world, no matter what.

story taglist: @sunflower-borhap-boys @mimibarnes

forever taglist: @tv-saved-the-teenage-girl @dashlilymark @hazah

[stareiiez]

Flower Petals and Blood

Chapter Five

Word count: 4k words

Pairings: Lavernius Tucker/ Reader, Leonard Church/ Reader

Genre: Angst, Slowburn, Hanahaki Disease AU, Hints at Love Triangle, Angst, Fluff, Eventual smut, Sexual tension, Smut, 18+ & 21 content.

Author’s note: Okay so finally? FINALLY, finally I uploaded and updated this series and I’m so happy from the positivity that you guys have had to the previous chapters and the twist I’m having on the characters/ plot. Any way, this centers more around the Tucker/ Reader dynamic and away from the disease for now. Enjoy!

The morning after you had puked your guts up of velvet like sharp petals on the roof of Blue base you were holed up in your room. Your throat was still sore and scratchy from the abuse it constantly goes through. One large sleep shirt that donned the Blue Team logo on the front. Notebooks were scattered upon the other half of your bed, various scribbled notes in black ink stained white paper and your fingers.  The streams of late morning sunlight were painted against your features as you turned to stare at the dying small pile of flower petals on your dresser. The golden light seemed to make the sort of tense and tired aura your bedroom had, to seem a little brighter.  You hadn't even bothered to remove them from your bedroom, the action seemed too tiring for your body. With a tired yawn, you had rubbed the last remaining traces of sleep from your eyes. You weren't planning on doing much today. Taking more notes about your current ongoing disease and looking up some sort of solution was what kept you up late at night.  Hell, maybe you would even let Doc run more physical tests on your body like you were some lab experiment in Red Base. Maybe Sarge wouldn't mind you wandering aimlessly into their base unannounced and armed, naturally.  Sarge probably also wouldn't mind you coughing up light blue and darker blue flower petals on his floor. It was bad enough he didn't 'allow blue bastards' in his base, but seeing even more shades of blue in his base? The gruff male would be practically shoving his shotgun down your throat and threatening to shove his boot up your ass for trying to infect his men with some sort of 'blue team disease.'

You didn't need to have any more stress to risk another upchuck that nearly kills you in front of someone new every day. It was bad enough Caboose, Doc and now Tucker knew about your condition. Church was probably the next one to know if you weren't too careful for trying to choke down another wave of crashing emotions that would rip your heart apart. God, Church, he could manifest anywhere he would want to. Knowing your own luck, maybe he already came into your room to talk to you while you were asleep and saw your evidence for this cursed illness. That random thought you had, sent your eyes to widen slightly and your body to launch up out of bed at a too quick pace for your sleepy brain to handle. You crossed the small distance from your bed to scoop up the still soft flower petals and dumped them in a drawer of your dresser. Cursing yourself for even stressing this early in the morning, you let out a puff of air, your right hand rose to run its fingers through your slight bed head tangled locks. You winced from the harsh few tugs before wincing once again when a sharp knock on your door jolted your senses.

It was too early to even talk to anyone, your head hasn't even caught up with your body's actions yet at this point. All you wanted to do was sleep and stay curled up in bed and hide from the world while coughing your poor lungs out.  

"What?" You said through slightly gritted teeth, brows raising in slight agitation from whoever was standing outside your door.

"Are you dead? Caboose has been panicking about if you were drowning in flowers yet." Tucker's voice floated through from the other side of your door.

Oh, how to be graced so early in the day by one of the people you didn't want to be around while dealing with this sickness. With a small scoff, you had turned to address your closed door, chest tightening slightly from the thought of the aqua soldier even bothering to worry about you in the first place. Hell, you were probably crazy to think differently, Tucker wasn't some heartless asshole he was just some horny, self-centered asshole.  Only he was slightly better than Church for only caring about himself.

"Are you sure you're here because of Caboose, or because you were worried yourself." You spoke, walking closer to your doorway and opening the steel door enough to get a good look at the male in front of you.

Tucker was dressed casually for once, in sweats and a standard black shirt. His long dark brown and very light brown locks were tied up in a neat ponytail, a few dreads were starting to fall from the updo and casually frame his angled face. His gaze landed on you before it drifted over your head to rest on your bed. His eyebrow cocking at the sight of your late night notes covering your sheets.

"What? No. Maybe, move we need to talk." Tucker said before he gently pushed you out of the way and then closed the door behind him once the door of your bedroom closed.

The male had made himself surprisingly comfy by seating himself on your bed and reaching over to pick up the notes you had scribbled on. A small scoff escaped his lips when he read 'Nature can suck my balls' underlined multiplied times. Clearly, you were frustrated up until that point. His fingers traced over your chicken scratch like the wording, and couldn't help an annoyingly like smirk to grace his features.

"Alright what exactly are you doing here, because usually, you would have come up with some stupid pick up line for sex by now," You turned to cast Tucker a look, one eyebrow rose in suspicion?

A moment ticked by, and your breath held before Tucker lifted his head to meet your eyes. Eyes locked on each other.

"What the hell are you doing coughing up flowers like you're some goddamn freak?!" Tucker blurted out. Ah, there it is, you were waiting for that time were one by one the members of either Red or Blue would come knocking on your door demanding answers if they ever saw your disease.

"It's a magic trick, surprise." You deadpanned, your voice lacking emotion.

"Very funny." Tucker rolled his eyes before he tilted his head, a dark brow raising in a hint of his impatience. "Now tell me the truth." There was a pregnant pause between you two, both pair of eyes locked on one another. One slightly pleading for answers, the other way too stubborn that was staring daggers at chocolate brown orbs.

Finally a sharp from your lips broke the silence, this was going on for far too long anyway. You couldn't be that stubborn anyway, you were practically dying day by day and petal by fucking petal. Besides, Tucker had watched you puke right after Church left. You couldn't dance around the truth anymore as much as you want to.

"Okay, okay." You sighed, you walked closer to Tucker. His eyes trained on your form while you sat down next to him. You situated yourself on the bed so you were facing the male, who in turn followed your lead to sit face to face.

Taking one deep breath you went into detail about your complicated relationship with Church. Much to your own embarrassment, and with flushed cheeks you told Tucker about the first time you actually slept with Church.

The one time you were found halfway tipsy with the oldest bottle of Jack Daniels gripped in your right hand, and your body laid lazily stretched out on the ratty couch cushions in the living room. Your cheeks had a small, drunken blush staining your features, and your eyes were glassy as they were locked upon Church's. You were a sight, to say the least when Church happened to walk in to find Tucker and help him start up the tank once again. Out of all the people out of Blue Team, except Caboose, you seemed to drink the least, but given any rare occasion, you would out drink anyone and happen to get drunker than anyone at the same time.

"Take a picture you little cunt, it will last a lot longer." You scoffed, a harsh slur to your words made you sound funny in your ears. Your brows knitted, you sounded like your voice was muffled and you had cotton balls in your ears.

Church rolled his eyes, his dark blue eyes had wandered over your stretched form. Orbs drinking in your lithe frame until they raked back up to meet your unsteady gaze. You knew he was staring, and with a few or more shots of liquid courage that you had in your system, you eagerly enjoyed being stared at.

"Where is everybody? Why aren't you being watched and why the fuck are you drinking so early in the day?" Church bit out. He walked over to you and easily snatched the more than half empty bottle of whiskey.

The liquid in the bottle sloshing recklessly back and forth. At his harsh action, a drunken whine left your alcohol-soaked lips. You didn't hesitate to reach out in failing attempts to grab the bottle back from a glaring Church, who was starting to raise the whiskey bottle over his head. Whiskey bottle out of reach, and with your drunk ass being too lazy and uncoordinated to stand up from the couch and reach for it yourself, you laid back down against the somewhat comfortable cushions.

"I had enough of you screaming your lungs about how you're going to kill everyone on Blue Team and yourself just because Caboose crashed something. Besides its what? Eleven pm right now? Lay off, old man." You scoffed your top lip curling into a snarl.

"How long have you been awake?"  Church asked, his eyes watching your unsteady gaze that was wavering back and forth from him to what he was holding.

"Ten minutes." You said you started to get up this time just as Church scoffed in disgust. Clearly, there was no time limit when it came to drinking. 'It's always five o'clock somewhere.' was your overused excused when the Blue leader would catch you drinking.  "Now give me." You drunkenly demanded.

"Interesting." Church droned on before a sigh slipped past his lips, your demand has his eyebrows drawing together in slight irritation. "Come get it then."  The male stated, and to his own amusement, he started to back away from your position on the couch.  

Church watched your unsteady movements, his feet were scooting back step by small step as he watched a sort of sparkling determination to drink some more. It was frustrating to your mind on why the male was backing more and more away from your clumsy footsteps. You swayed like a zombie that wasn't set on eating brains but just consuming the last bit of whiskey without a single regret. After a slow three minutes of a constant pattern of your sock covered feet sliding against the rough floor in sluggish movements, and Church backing up. The male had pressed his back against the wall, finally trapped. Your alcohol-soaked breath fanned against his face, and his nose scrunched slightly from the smell of it. Your drunk brain couldn't register how close you two were, noses just barely brushing up against each other and one hand was planted against his chest. Your weight settled on your tiptoes as you reached up to grab the bottle for the last time. Your other hand was grasping his scrawny, yet toned, arm.

Church stared at your flushed face thanks to intoxication, your hands were so warm against his cool skin and your chest was barely coming in contact with his own.

"Give me the drink already, you cunt." You growled out, weight swaying back and forth on your toes, that were cramping from holding your form up.

"Make me." Church challenged, his head dipping down slightly to stare you in the glazed over eyes. He was short, but he wasn't that short to still have a height advantage over you.

Call it stupidity and maybe you can blame the several bottles of alcohol you consumed but the tone in his voice for how he challenged you in the form of a tease, pushed your libido into action. The hand that was on his chest pushed Church more up against the wall. Dropping down onto your feet, you had leaned more into his chest and captured his lips in a swift kiss.  To say Church wasn't expecting you to kiss him was an understatement, he wanted this. Whether he could admit it or not, but the male always wanted to kiss you; to touch you in ways that would make any girl blush. Dear God, maybe he hung around Tucker way too much to know how exactly to touch someone. He was too uptight to even pay attention, but even he couldn't stop his hands from moving on their own and settle wherever they pleased.

Wrapped up in the drunk kiss, his arm that held the bottle lowered and encircled your waist tightly. His other hand had moved to rest against your cheek, a shaky breath escaped his lips when your teeth had decided to bite down on his bottom lip and pull gently at the chapped flesh.  His lungs were starting to burn slightly from the lack of oxygen but the feeling of your tongue invading his mouth.

It was starting to heat up fast in the room, and all Church wanted to do was make it even hotter with you. Pulling away from the kiss with bated breath, his lips were swollen and bitten to bits by your teeth that was tugging relentlessly at his bottom lip. You were both panting slightly out of breath nearly stealing oxygen from each other.  From then you couldn't remember much but you had dragged Church into your room when you both heard the voices of Tucker and Caboose approaching the base. Drunken kisses mixed with heated quick bites were peppered along both of you, and slight bruises had decorated your hips when you woke up in your bed the next morning. Your throat was still sore from moaning and swallowing Church's dick whole when you went down on him. You woke naked in your twisted sheets that stunk heavily of sex and semen that had left more than one stain on your standard satin blue colored sheets. Church was nowhere to be seen and the only reminder you had of that day was his dark blue boxers that had still spots of precum that were tossed across your room. From that day on it turned into more quiet sex in your bedroom, or you dragging church by the chest plate to one of the caves and fuck him for as long as his libido could last.

Biting your lip, your gaze dropped slightly as your cheeks flushed in a slight embarrassing hue. For something so small as just screwing, that was caused by your drunken endeavors, had spiraled into something so complicated that it made your heart hurt a little more and flowers bloom in your lungs for that reason.  

"You are royally fucked." Tucker spoke up once you managed to finally stop spilling your only secret about fucking his 'leader' of Blue Team.

A small snort escaped your mouth before you lifted your embarrassed gaze to lock eyes with Tucker, who was biting his bottom lip in an attempt to snicker or at least try to teasingly grin just to lighten the mood.

"Well I might not be entirely, I stayed up all night trying to break this stupid illness." You stated, reaching over behind his back to grab at the opened book that held pages of notes and different stupid solutions that could or couldn't work on you.

Handing the book to the male beside you, you had laid back on your bed. Bare feet dangling over the edge of your bed. One hand nestled against the back of your head to support it and the others was rubbing at your tingling chest. The too familiar feeling of coughing or at least feeling your chest flutter with an itchy feeling that would probably cause a new round of spasming coughs if you thought about it for too long. Since yesterday you haven't coughed since, and you would be damned sure if you had to cough again so early in the morning. The flipping of pages and the soft chuckles that escaped Tucker's mouth was a sure sign that he was reading through everything you had written down hastily. It'd be a huge shock if he could even read what the hell you wrote, maybe he was laughing at your illegible crackhead ideas.

"Lung transplant and move to Mexico. That's a new one." Tucker said, his shoulders lightly shaking in chuckles that were being held back in order to save your crumbling dignity.

"Well, it sounds stupid when you say it out loud, Lavernius." You muttered bitterly, eyebrows knitting in how absurd you probably sounded for backing up that idea.

"Found any ones that have seemed to be a sure-fire way?" Tucker finally closed your book once his eyes scanned over the last thing you wrote down and underlined multiple times in bold, black lines.

Distraction."A distraction. Maybe if I can find something to take my mind off Church I can officially force my heart to accept something new and allow those damn flowers to wilt and die." Moving your other hand behind your head, your shoulders rose in a soft shrug.

"Think anyone would be willing to let you screw them for a few days just to get over this asshole?" Tucker asked, his head turning to gaze down at you as you had laughed in response.

"No, it's not all going to be sexual you dingus. I just need a friend or someone to take my time and steer me clear from trying to fall even more for that ghost of a human being."

Tucker closed the book and rested it on the bed before he had plopped down next to you on his side. His eyes roamed over your face for a moment before he spoke up. Well if no one does volunteer, and you're out of options. I volunteer."

"I'm not going to fuck you." You deadpanned. You tilted your head to look at him straight on and you'd be damned if you didn't notice how close you two were laying next to each other.

"I didn't say that I'm just saying if you maybe wanted to you know where my room is." The male wiggled his eyebrows rather seductively or so he hoped. To you his little eyebrow wiggle made him look way too funny but it did put a slow spreading smile on your face.

"I'll keep that in mind." You replied with a roll of your eyes. You rose one hand without thinking and brought it to his nose to flick the end in a taunt. He had grabbed your hand once you had flicked his nose. Fingers had nearly wrapped around your own and the flush of warmth had pressed upon your open palm.

Your breath hitched in your throat unconsciously and your gaze automatically drew to his deep chocolate brown orbs.  Neither of you spoke, but the shallow breathing that left your lungs was speaking volumes out loud.  You didn't know who moved closer to each other but nose you could feel his breath on your face and the tip of his own nose was brushing against yours. For someone who seemed to be so terrible on making a move, or being a 'ladies man,' Tucker had gained a blush down his neck and over his entire face. He turned several shades into a rich red color from just his emotions alone. Tucker swallowed noisily like even he could sense the shifting atmosphere in your room. From what turned into just a casual air had shifted heavily into something so dense that left the air around you warmer and thick.

The fingers around your hand had squeezed gently and tugged it so it was placed around the back of his neck. Tucker moved slowly like he was scared that you'd shove him away and kick him out for even as just laying a hand on your body.  Your other hand planted on his chest and you had moved until your chest was nearly brushing against the back of your hand. Tucker's other hand move to lay on your waist, fingers pressing against your side with the right amount of pressure that made you shiver in bliss.  Here's your distraction, take it and forget about that asshole already. You nearly scolded yourself, and you'd be damned if you weren't about to let this chance go. You couldn't, you were so vulnerable and Tucker was leaning in already. With another shaky breath that slipped past your parted mouth, the male had captured your lips with his own chapped ones.

Tucker kissed like he practiced for this, or like he had too much experience. You doubted the latter, every time you decided to retaliate in his inappropriate advances it left him stuttering and biting down on his tongue way too quickly. Overall the pressure of his lips had left you sighing contently into his mouth, your body relaxed even more as his arms now moved to wrap around your waist and pull you more into his solid chest. The smell of Tucker overwhelmed your senses and the hints of men body wash had your mind growing numb with pleasure. Both arms were now wrapped around his neck and your fingers were playing with the hairs on the back of his neck; leaving him to shiver under your touch. It brought a smirk to the corner of your mouth without even breaking the kiss. His lips had easily parted your own and allowed his smooth tongue to invade every corner of your mouth.

A small moan that you didn't mean to let out had escaped from the intrusion. The pressure of the kiss deepened and your lungs were burning from the lack of oxygen, but feeling lightheaded and kissing your teammate feverishly was something you didn't want to end. Finally, you pulled away, but not without sinking your teeth into his bottom lip and pulling at it lightly. A quiet groan had left Tucker, and the sound of panting filled the room. Your eyes locked once again for another moment before you started to lean in for another kiss.

A sharp knock had split you both apart and nearly had Tucker scrambling off your small bed. Your heart hammered in your chest from the sudden scare had you snap out of your short-lived libido of maybe screwing Tucker in your bedroom.

Your name was muffled behind the other side of the steel door by someone who was the last person you ever wanted to talk to. Texas. Running a hand through your hair, you spared a glance at Tucker who was trying to get his bearings. His lips were swollen from kisses and his eyes were glazed and dark, way darker than normal. The look he had nearly caused you to flock to his side again, but you couldn't with the black armored ex-freelancer standing outside your door. Taking in a quick breath you opened your door rather roughly and were face to face with a golden visor.

"May I help you?" You said, voice holding a bit of irritation. Your eyebrows twitched when Tex didn't respond but instead looked over your shoulder to see Tucker standing in the background. You hoped he managed to extinguish that heated look already, you didn't need Texas to ask you why the male looked like that.

"We need to talk," Texas spoke her gaze still glued to Tucker before her helmet tilted to now turn to face you once more. Your veins froze to icicles under your skin, and your eyes narrowed when she continued. "Alone."

[thinkyoureholy]

A Woman Scorned [11]

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[Warning! There is smut in this chapter!!!!]

Pairing : Kim Jongin / Reader

Genre : Angst, Mature Language, Fluff, Smut

Words : 4k

Pt 1. Pt 2. Pt 3. Pt 4. Pt 5. Pt 6. Pt 7. Pt 8. Pt 9. Pt 10. Pt 11. Pt 12. Pt 13. Epilogue.

-Y/N’s P.O.V-

I walked briskly to my car, the tears of sadness that had been falling from my eyes had turned into tears of anger. As soon as I got in my car I let out a scream of frustration, a sob getting stuck in my throat as I hit the steering wheel. How dare he...how fucking dare he have the audacity to say that to me? Me? A whore, a slut? What gave him the fucking right? I was no longer his to claim, I was no longer bound by the restraints of our relationship that had gone to shit. Our relationship was a thing of the past so he had no right to barge in there and- I cut my thoughts off as I let out another scream of pure anger, angrily turning on the car and pulling out of the parking lot. My hands had a death grip on the steering wheel, my fingers turning white at the tight grip I had on the wheel.

Once home I got out of my car, slamming the car door and consequently the front door to the house as well. My pent up anger was starting to eat me up and I knew if I didn’t do something about it things were going to get ugly and they were going to get ugly fast. I wandered over to the kitchen, throwing my bag onto the couch. Just as I reached over to grab a cup from the cupboards my phone started ringing. I reached into my pocket, answering it without even checking who was calling.

“Is this your fucked up way on getting revenge!”

I pulled the phone away from my ear, wincing at the sound of her voice coming through the speaker. I looked at the number to see it didn't have caller ID but there was no way I'd ever mistake her voice with someone else's. I sighed heavily, leaning back against the counter as I brought the phone back up to my ear.

“What the hell are you even talking about?” I asked simply to entertain her, not actually caring about anything she had to say.

“Your fucking dog beat the hell out of my Jongin!” Bora yelled, “Y'know I always thought you'd never use violence but I guess I was wrong.”

“Bora, what the fuck-”

“Junmyeon! Your fucking boy toy or whatever he is to you I don't really care!” She yelled, clearly frustrated over how clueless I was.

As she was yelling I heard the front door open, Junmyeon walking in and as soon as I saw him I realized why she was so worked up.

“You know I can press charges against that asshole right? I don't give a fuck if he's a lawyer or not! He can't just go around-”

“Oh my God just shut up! Your voice is single handedly the worst fucking thing I've ever heard, fuck, just shut up for once in your miserable life!” I yelled, my annoyance rising the longer I heard her talk.

Before she could get another word out I hung up on her. I looked down at the phone in my hand for a few seconds before setting it down and made my way over to Junmyeon who had plopped down on the couch. I noticed the bruise forming on his jaw and his split lip first, taking in how his right hand was covered with blood, whether it was his or not I couldn't tell. Seeing him like this I could only imagine how he left Jongin. I set my jaw, crossing my arms over my chest as I kicked at his leg, getting him to look at me.

“Is it true you got into a fight with Jongin?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

Junmyeon scoffed, dabbing the cut on his lip with a napkin that was on the coffee table, “I'm so tired of hearing his fucking name.”

“Answer me.”

Junmyeon balled the napkin up in his hand before roughly throwing it back onto the table, “I did and what about it?”

“Dammit Junmyeon why?”

“You know damn well why.”

I sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of my nose, “No I don't Myeon. Why the hell would you get into it with him? He's not worth it.”

“You know what he's not...but you are.” He said, rising from his seat and staring right into my eyes, “I'm done. I'm so fucking done with all of this. I hate how he still gets to you. I hate how much his words and actions still affect you. I'm no fucking idiot I know everything so don't even try and deny it.”

I poked my tongue against the inside of my cheek, hating how right he was. I was annoyed that he let Jongin get inside his head but I was more annoyed at the fact he was throwing all of this in my face, like I already didn't know that. Doesn't he think that I hate that about myself too? I hate it so much that I want to bring the son of a bitch that makes me like this down but I won't have anyone doing it for me.

“I did this for you. I beat his pretty little face in because of the crap he said to you back there but you have the gall to ask why? He made you cry tears he doesn't even deserve yet you're still here asking me why?”

“No. You did this for you,” I said in a low voice, seeing a frown beginning to form on his face, “If it truly was for me you would've let what he said go over your head and let me handle-”

“Handle what?! You marched out of that office with tears streaming down your face. Tell me, exactly how you were going to handle it?! Huh?! I'm all ears so fucking tell me!” He yelled, cutting me office, his anger from before returning, “I wasn't about to let him get away with the shit he said.”

“Fucking hell Junmyeon this isn't your fight!” I shouted, my patience wearing thin, “I won't have you fighting my battles for me!”

“No it’s not my fight but you made it my fight the moment you asked me to become the company's financial advisor! Why the hell do you think I dropped everything to go there, to be there for you, huh? Ask yourself why I beat the shit out of that bastard for saying those things to you.”

He exhaled deeply, all the energy seeming to leave him as he took a few steps away from me. His words had rendered me speechless, my mind going blank. At seeing that he wasn't going to get a response he let out a scoff, the corners of his lips curling upwards for a few seconds before he bit his bottom lip quite harshly. He said nothing else as he turned on his heel and walked out of the living room. It felt like my feet were glued to the floor, hearing his footsteps as he left. I jumped slightly at hearing the front door slam shut, the sound echoing through the house. I was stuck in this stupor for a few seconds until my anger hit me once again. Today just wasn’t my day. First Jongin opened his damn mouth and drew tears from me he certainly didn’t deserve and now Junmyeon was telling me to ask myself a question I don’t know the answer to. I set my jaw as I thought how infuriating everyone was being today.

Turning on my heel I made my way over to the counter, grabbing the bottle of tequila Minseok had there and opening it. I was planning on downing it in its entirely, thinking I’d replace it later for him. I took a long swig  from the bottle, ignoring the burning in my throat as it went down. I grimaced as I plopped down onto the couch, kicking the coffee table back to try and get rid of the last remaining bits of anger that was still left in my system. I tried to clear my mind, refusing to think about what had happened in the day as I drank away. I was almost down with the bottle when I heard the front door open. I threw my head back, a lazy smile spreading across my face as I called out to Minseok. I got no response and now that I had time to think about it I remembered Minseok texting me earlier this morning that he’d be down with his parents for the weekend. Before I could get alarmed by the idea of it being an intruder I saw Junmyeon walking into my line of sight. I said nothing but raised the bottle in my hand towards him but he simply snatched it out of my hand. I didn’t have the energy to yell at him as I watched him look down at the nearly empty bottle.

“I was gone maybe ten minutes and you’ve already downed this entire bottle of tequila?” He asked, clearly irritated.

I let out a soft chuckle, following his figure as he sat down on the coffee table in front of me, “That is false...it still has about half a cup left in it.”

He sighed heavily, leaning forward as he rested his elbows on his thighs, “You’re drunk,” He said after silently observing me for a few seconds.

“I am indeed my dear Junmyeon,” I said with a grin, my words slightly slurred.

He shook his head, reaching over to grab my hand to get me to stand up, probably wanting to lead me to my room. I slapped his hand away from me, startling him. He stared at me with a frown on his face, my eyes not meeting his. I looked down at my fingers, idly messing with them as I ground my teeth together.

“Why’d you come back? You obviously had nothing more to say…” I trailed off in a low voice before adding under my breath, “Asking me such a stupid question…”

I scoffed to myself, keeping my eyes from looking at him as I entertained myself to staring a the tv on the far wall. I heard nothing from him for a few seconds. If I hadn’t known better I would’ve thought that he up and left but I could hear is breathing perfectly, even in my drunken state I was perfectly aware of everything that was going on around me.

“No...but I didn’t want to go home knowing you were angry...at me no less.” He said after a moment of silence, his tone soft.

“Then you shouldn’t have picked that damn fight with Jongin.”

Soon after that sentence left my mouth I heard a scoff leave his, a dry and humorless laugh following, “Don’t tell me you’re actually worried about him? After everything he’s said and done?”

“I’m not but that wasn’t your fight to pick.”

“And what would you have had me do, huh? Tell me what I should’ve done after hearing the shit he said to you in your office. You know I had half a mind to actually kill that bastard-”

“Fucking hell Junmyeon you should’ve just walked away like I did!” I yelled, cutting him off.

At my outburst it seemed like the feelings he was holding back reared their ugly heads as he stood up abruptly, kicking at the coffee table and knocking it over on its side, beginning to pace in front of me,  “In tears like you did?! Is that what you wanted?! For me to walk out of that room with my head down and tail between my legs?! Fuck. That. I gave that stuck up little prick the beating he deserved and I did it for you!”

“I never asked you to-”

“You didn’t have to! I would’ve beat the hell out of any son of a bitch that even thought to speak to you the way he did.” He said, red in the face as he stared down at me on the couch.

I couldn’t help but hate the feeling of being looked down on, figuratively and literally so I stood up so I was eye level with him. I opened my mouth but before I could get a word out I felt his hands on the side of my face before feeling his lips on mine. The fight that I had in me vanished the moment I felt his lips captured my own in a hungry kiss. I reached a hand up to grab onto his wrist tightly, using my other hand to pull him in closer by his shirt. Instead of just stepping closer to me he had me take one back, the back of my knees hitting the edge of the couch. He brought one of his hands down to wrap around my waist, the other to stop himself from completely letting his entire weight fall on top of me as we fell back onto the couch. His lips didn’t leave mine for a second as his hands started to roam my body. With his knee in between my legs I couldn’t help but grind onto his leg. He moaned softly into my mouth, his hands pinning my hips to the couch as he finally pulled away from the kiss. He hovered over me, his eyes staring into mine intently, as if looking for something in them.

“What are you doing?” I asked, panting slightly.

He smiled softly, “Looking to see if this is something we both want and not just to let out the pent up anger we have in our systems. I also wanted to see if you had sobered up enough to want this…”

I leaned up, pulling him down the rest of the way by wrapping my arms around his shoulders. He kissed me back just as eagerly, his fingers playing with the hem of my shirt, “Just finish what you started in my office.”

He grinned at that, his fingers already beginning to hike up my skirt, “Yes ma’am.”

And with that he reconnected his lips with mine but only for a few seconds before he started peppering kisses onto the side of my jaw, his lips finding the soft spot on my neck rather quickly. I was so engrossed in the feeling of his lips I wasn’t aware of the way his fingers had brushed against my thighs and then again later but much higher up until I felt his fingers press lightly on my clit over my underwear. I moaned at the feeling, my fingers digging into his clothed back. I felt him smirk against my skin, his lips not letting up on their assault on my neck as he moved my underwear to the side, his fingers running up and down my folds. I whined as I ground my hips against his fingers, wanting him to stop his teasing. Just as I was going to speak my thoughts aloud he pushed one of his fingers into my entrance. I arched my back at the feeling, a loud moan leaving my lips at having him push in a second fingers no more than a few seconds after the first one. He kept still but feeling his fingers inside of me was driving me crazy. I brought my hands up to his hair, pulling him up so his face was right above mine.

“Move.”

He let a smirk grace his features, leaning down to capture my lips with his when I felt him pull his fingers out slowly, before pushing back in. He kept this up for a few seconds, my juices covering his fingers and probably his whole hand by now. I could tell just how wet I was by the sound, his fingers finally picking up speed. I arched my back into him, feeling his bulge pressed up against my thigh. Without much thought I brought my hand down to cup him gently, a groan leaving his lips. He bit down on my lips, his fingers moving fast when his thumb joined them, drawing circles onto my clit. I gasped against his lips, reaching down to grab his arm with both my hands as I pulled away from the kiss.

“I’m--I’m gonna cum, fuck.” I moaned out, throwing my head back at the knot that had been tightening in my stomach just about ready to snap.

I felt myself getting closer and closer to the edge until I finally let myself go. My orgasm hit me hard, my legs shaking as he kept moving his fingers in and out of me. It took awhile for my orgasm to subside and when it did he finally pulled his fingers out of me, bringing them up to his lips and sucking my juices off them as he stared directly into my eyes. I let out a whine at seeing that, pushing him back and off of me. He seemed confused for a second but soon caught on when I began taking off my clothes in front of him. He didn’t waste another second in stripping himself of his own clothes. Once my bras was off and I saw him slip on a condom I sat on his lap, my lips immediately attacking his neck. He groan low in his throat at having me suck on the sensitive skin, his hands gripping the flesh of my thighs tightly when he felt my tongue soothe the skin after sucking on it so harshly. Without much thought I reached down in between us, lifting my hips from his for a second, aligning his member with my entrance. I sunk down on him with a moan, a moan of his own leaving his lips. I didn’t even allow myself time to adjust to him before I started moving. I let out a shaking breath at the feeling of him inside me. I had been so long since I had been with anyone and this felt like pure ecstasy.

“Holy shit…” Junmyeon let out in a shaky breath, his fingers digging into my thighs harder than before.

I let a smile spread across my face for a second before burying my face into his neck when I felt him hook his arms underneath my thighs and began thrust up into me. My nails dug into his shoulders, clawing across his back as I tried to muffle my moans as they got increasingly louder but to no avail. I don’t know for how long we were at it but I knew it was for quite some time, if my fatigue had anything to say about it.

-

I walked down the hallway of the building, opting out of wearing heels due to the activities I had participated in over the last few days. Junmyeon...had a hell of a lot of stamina and endurance but I wasn’t really complaining. Though going for as many rounds as we did I was left...a little sore. So heels were definitely out of the question this morning. Junmyeon unfortunately wasn’t able to come to work with me this morning since the director of his firm had called him early in the morning, saying he had some urgent business with him. As I walked to my office I could see Bora sitting at her desk, a knowing look in her eyes. I ignored the look entirely, going into my office and sitting down in my chair.

I hadn’t even been sitting for longer than a minute when Jongin entered the room. I kept an emotionless face as I watched him march over to me, noting the bruises on his jaw and over his eye barely beginning to heal. I only showed confusion when he slammed an envelope onto my desk. I looked down at it with furrowed brows, surprised to see that it was his letter of resignation.

“You’re quitting?”

“I’ve already cleared my office, all I needed was to give this to you. It’s what you wanted right? Now you can do whatever the hell you want with this damned company.” He snapped, his face clear with anger.

I set my jaw at the look in his eyes, remembering what he had said to me the Friday prior, “So instead of a fucking apology you chose to run away from me? Pathetic.”

“I was going to apologize, I wanted to fucking apologize but with what I heard that same night I decided to swallow my damn apology.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I heard you, the both of you.” He said, still being vague about everything.

When he saw that I wasn’t understanding anything he was saying he explained, “I looked through our documents, looking for your address so I could apologize to you. When I found your address I went there immediately but when I got there-” He cut himself off, his teeth grinding against each other as he tried to reel in his rage, “I heard everything, his moans...your moans. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that you and Junmyeon were fucking.”

I couldn’t help but laugh once he was done, throwing my head back as I was thrown into hysterics. It took a minute for me to finally calm down and when I did I could see how appalled he was to have me laughing at him after what he had just revealed to me.

“And that’s why you’re quitting? Just how much more pathetic can you get seriously?” I asked through a grin before I let my eyes scan his figure, a scoff falling from my mouth, “And to think...I once loved a man like you...it’s laughable really.”

“You’ve really turned into a stone cold bitch haven’t you?”

I grinned at his words, resting my elbows on my desk as I leaned forward, his letter of resignation in my hands, “Well as much as I’d love to see you out of a job…” I trailed off before tearing the envelope and the letter inside to pieces, “I can’t allow you to leave...at least not until I say so,” I said, throwing the torn pieces to his feet.

He had what I could only assume was a disgusted look on his face, losing his footing as he stumbled back, “Isn’t this what you fucking wanted? You wanted me gone right? You wanted my money, everything I ever had. So take it, I have no need for it anymore.”

I said nothing as I watched him pull out his wallet from his back pocket, pulling out the bills his was carrying in cash before throwing them at me. They simply fell to the floor in front of him as I stared at the money, uninterested.

“Take it, take it all. I’m done playing your fucked up game. I’m done being pushed around by you with the hope that you’d maybe, someday forgive me-”

“Don’t hold your breath, that’ll never happen.”

He let out a dry laugh, the smile on his face not reaching his eyes, “Oh, I know. I know that more than ever now so just take it all. My money, this cursed company, all of it...but I’m no longer gonna be around to fucking see it.”

The was the last he said before turning on his heel and leaving my office, slamming the door shut before him. Once he was gone I sat back in my chair, frowning at what I had just witnessed. The only thought that came to mind was...how was I going to go through with what I had planned for him if he was no longer around? The longer I thought about it the faster the wheels in my head turned. I grinned at the new plan I had formulated, a giddy look crossing my features.