#Despite the fact he should have already graduated even though technically it was fixed in later reprints

[elisedonut]

*had to repeat can be anything from his parents forcing him to, to just doing so badly he was given the option

like I typically have him fail his 5th because that's more time to catch up and more time with Percy and because suddenly being in the same class as Oliver when before they were not, is alot of fun but I'm curious if there's a consensus

[iamjungkooked]

Mr. Min

↳Pairing: Min Yoongi x female reader

↳Genre: Romance (all fluff)

↳Word count: 4.7K

↳Rating: G

↳Warnings: None

↳Summary:

Min Yoongi is the asshole boss who keeps you late at work every night. But then you find out why and it gives you the upper hand.

A/N: I hope you guys like it!! Finally wrote something less than 5k. It has been a while for sure. Cross posting this from my other blog @iamtaekooked​. You guys have been following me on here even though i am like never on here its crazy. I LOVE YOU ALL. THANK YOU SO MUCH. I AM GOING TO TRY POSTING MORE IF MY LIFE LETS ME.

Your hand begins cramping as you finish writing the report for asshole number one Min Yoongi. Writing a report is easy, but having to write it by hand is what makes you want to strangle him. The tiny blue desk clock strikes 11 pm and once again you lose out on the opportunity to live your life. At this point, you have lost track of how many times you have stayed late at the office while your friends enjoy their weekends with dinners, movies and activities. Sometimes it’s so bad that you video call them just as you’re about to drift off to sleep.

You don’t even bother to hope to go home early anymore. Min Yoongi always finds ways to make you stay late with him. You went through the five stages of grief at first because you felt your life was being taken away from you. You even thought of threatening him with a lawsuit because he couldn’t make you work over 40 hours a week. When you did he was quick to turn the tables by offering you overtime pay-- and not a measly sum. It was money you couldn’t turn away. So, once again you let yourself fall prey to his actions.

Slowly but surely you began getting used to this so-called “routine”. Gradually, hours started fading into one another until one day you became so habituated with staying late (and to the mind-boggling pay) that Yoongi didn’t even have to come to your cubicle to hand you anything. You already asked him in the morning for your evening assignment. One would think this would be a hint for him-- but no. The man was as clueless as one could be.

Like any other night, you had an assignment, one which Yoongi labelled as important. But then again everything was important. Any task he assigned (or rather you asked for) he classified as important. You wondered if he understood what the word means because if everything is important then technically nothing is. Rather than ask him about it, which wasn’t necessary anyway you did what you were handsomely paid to do.

A sigh passed your dry lips. Once again you grabbed the pen and began writing-- this time going as fast as your wrist would allow. The ink flowed from the pen to the paper in black scribbles, hardly understandable. But you could not bring yourself to care. He would have to deal with it, and that was that.

Having written the last sentence, you capped the pen and pushed back the chair so you could go to his office. Your heels hurt from wearing six-inch pumps all day. No less would do because turns out asshole Min Yoongi had made that provision because apparently, it looked “more professional”. While walking to his office you just imagined torturing him in your mind by making him wear these fucking heels. It was slightly comical imagery but also satisfying, so much so that you could not help yourself from smiling.

You knocked on the opaque glass door as you reached his office. It was customary for you to knock once and for him to not answer. Normally you would slide the documents or whatever is needed under the door because Yoongi had specifically requested he not be disturbed. But something prompted you to stick your head against the glass door and peer inside through the clear margins. You couldn’t see anything so despite Yoongi’s “request” you turned the knob, opened the door slightly and peeked your head inside. The scene in front of you however was not quite something you were expecting.

Min Yoongi was laying back against his very comfortable looking plush leather rotating chair, with his headphones on, legs resting on top of the table and his eyes fixed with a concentration on his laptop. There were empty boxes of takeout at his desk and the whole image conveyed to you that he hadn’t actually done any work. It was an inkling, which means you could be wrong. But you would be damned if you didn’t make your presence known.

You walked inside, standing halfway between him and the door and cleared your throat as loud as you could. There was no response as expected. You walked a few steps and stopped just short of his desk, yet he still did not notice you. You looked at the report in your hand and threw it on his desk, which landed with a thud. He jumped, and finally looked at you. It took a second but the realization dawned on him. His eyes bulged like he had been caught red-handed and you noticed his adam’s apple bob as he gulped hard.

He hastily took off his earphones and straightened in his chair. “I thought I told you not to disturb me”

“I am sorry, did I ruin the fun?” your brows knit together.

“Do you have the report?” he asked instead.

You look at the papers on his desk and then back at him to make him aware of it sitting in front of his eyes.  

He fumbles with the papers and picks them up. While he’s busy scanning the papers you take in the state of his desk. One side is completely neat with all the binders and files organized, and the other is just filled with trash. As you’re busy studying the contents of his desk, you notice the name of your client’s company on one of the papers. Curiously you reach towards the file, Yoongi still busy reading your report. You scan the pages and realize without even having to read halfway through it that Yoongi had already finished the report and it was marked with yesterday’s date, which means he already sent it to the client.

“Do you care to explain this Mr. Min?” your fingers curl into a fist around the papers.

His eyes widen once more. “Oh shit” he mumbles-- a deer caught in the headlights expression on his face.

He sighs, dropping your report on the table. “Oh fuck” he rubs his forehead. “It’s nothing,” he says with a straight face just a moment after looking like he’d been caught.

“It looks like you already completed the report. Why did I have to do it if you already did it?”

“I wanted you to” he’s quick to reply.

“I am sorry Mr. Min but that is not a good enough explanation. I stayed here even though I did not have to. I find it unfair that I have to do work that has already been done-- and that too by you. I doubt you don’t trust yourself with work”

“That’s enough with the questions” he replied curtly.

“Wait a minute” you look back at the pile of papers on his desk and find a presentation he had asked you to make for him a week ago. However,  the date this presentation was printed was a week before that which means that once again he made you do something that had already been done. Sensing a pattern you decided to confront him right then and there.

“Pardon my french, but why the hell have I been doing work that had already been done?”

Yoongi sighed once more, but this time he sounded more defeated than the first. “Look, I can’t give you an explanation you will like. There isn’t one. But I’ll tell you the truth”

“Good” you fold your arms across your chest.

“You won’t like this either but I asked you to stay late because I wanted you to be here with me. I never got used to working late at night. Something about being alone always irked me, so I started keeping people around. It’s not right, I know” he’s quick to justify just as he noticed you opening your mouth to speak. “Trust me, I know. But then when Brian left and you joined, I knew that I needed you around. So I started asking you to stay late. Turns out, I liked your company more than I have liked anyone else’s so I even started paying you to stay late, which I have never done either” he finishes, The only problem is he doesn’t sound sincere enough. It’s like he’s telling you for the sake of telling you.

“I am sorry Mr. Min but you are not a child. I can’t be putting my life on hold just so you don’t have to be alone at night. Do you have any idea how many occasions and opportunities I have missed in my life because of this? I couldn’t attend my best friend’s graduation, I couldn’t be there for the birth of my nephew because I was here slaving away. To think it was for nothing is terrible. You should really say sorry” you glare at the man, demanding an apology you know you deserve because it doesn’t matter how much money you got paid. It won’t compensate for the memories you could have made.

He purses his lips. “I won’t” he shakes his head. “I know it’s wrong but I don’t say sorry”

You scoff. “You’re an asshole”

He shrugs as if your remark doesn’t bother him in the slightest. “Be that as it may. I did what I did because I like having you around. In fact, I did it because I like you and I am not ashamed of it”

Under normal circumstances, you probably would have been flattered and even blushed at having been confessed to. But these weren’t normal circumstances and on top of that, it was Min Yoongi.

“How about this-- you can go home early for all of next week” he offers.

It actually makes your blood boil because he thinks he’s being generous. But even if you gave him a wide berth, this wasn’t even cutting it close “All of next month actually” you counter, determined in your own way to make him apologize for his actions.

He considers it. A few beats of silence pass as both of you continue to stare at each other. “Fine” he agrees.

“Good.” you say shortly, before turning on your heels and heading towards the door.

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Yoongi ends up keeping his word for the whole of next month. If it were up to you, you would have asked him that you will never stay late. But after your anger had died down in a week or so, the rational part of your mind convinced you that the money was too good. And it was. So you didn’t try to extend it.

In that one month, however, Yoongi was being awfully generous towards you. You figured it was his way of making up for his actions.

After a week of your heated conversation with him, you found a bouquet of flowers at home addressed to your best friend. There was no name on it. It turned out you did not need a name, because one you knew whose handwriting it was and secondly, the apology was enough for you to know who they were from.

I am sorry y/n missed your graduation. I realize she should have been there with you and it is my fault she was not. I can’t turn back time but I hope these flowers and this small gift make up for it. Congratulations on your achievement.

Accompanying the flowers was a generous gift, one which could have only been given by Yoongi. A full spa weekend with your best friend. It was an all-inclusive offer.

It felt like he was bribing you to forgive him. But even if that were the case, you felt you deserved this and you would be damned if you let it go to waste. If this is how he wanted to apologize, then so be it. In a way, he was giving you the opportunity to spend quality time with Hana.

Hana was ecstatic. “Isn’t it sweet?” she said dreamily.

You couldn’t help but scoff. “It’s not sweet. It’s what he should be doing. Not this exact thing per se. But he needs to be making up for what he did and he is” you reminded her.

“Fine” Hana was quick to give up because even she knew not to argue.

To apologize, at the end of the month Yoongi also ends up giving you the biggest client. This one you feel conflicted about because you can’t discern his intention. So you do the only thing you can. You went charging to his office to demand an explanation.

Maybe he heard you coming but before you could even open your mouth after entering the room he was already speaking.

“I know,” he says as he gave you one glance before focusing on his laptop as he typed away. “I gave you a client because you deserve it. Trying to make up for troubling you is also part of it, but it’s mostly because you deserve it” he explains without sparing you another glance this time. “It just so happens Karla likes you and I think you can understand each other well as women. Not to mention you have great marketing skills that Karla’s company could use” he finishes speaking and the sound of keys clacking stops as well. He gives you his undivided attention. “So” he joins his fingers in a steeple, elbows resting on the desk. “What do you think?”

You don’t even give it a second of thought. “You made a good decision Mr. Min” corners of your lips curve in a smile.

“Of course I did” he reciprocates your smile. “I never make bad decisions” his smile grows into a knowing grin.

You catch the sarcastic play on words. “I wouldn’t be too sure of that”. Your gaze lingers on his a second longer before you nod and turn away to leave.

Just as you reach for the door, he speaks.

“Do your best”

You turn around and give him a curtsey nod. “You bet I will”

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You’re back to working late nights, but this time with Yoongi in his office on actual things that matter.

You and Yoongi have been working on a pitch for Karla’s company to convince them to change their branding. You work late hours into the night as usual. You flirt here and there, but nothing major happens as you both keep it professional(ish). There are a few laughs exchanged, a couple of longing gazes, moments so thick with tension you could practically taste it on your tongue.

You lean over to look at Yoongi’s list of ideas, but unknowingly invade his personal bubble-- that intimate zone only reserved for significant others/spouses. You get caught up in the moment as you look at him, and he looks at you. For a moment you think he’ll kiss you. But instead, he clears his throat. “I’ll be back” his voice is a whisper.

He gets up hurriedly and leaves, clearing his throat all the way to the door.

You watch his figure disappear behind the opaque glass door.

“Keep it professional” you chide yourself with a shake of the head.

You focus back on your notes, flipping through the pages trying to put a concept map together.

A draft of air hits you and you look in the direction to find Yoongi opening the door. He walks in a few feet, one hand hidden behind his back.

Curiosity piqued and you offer him an inquisitive look. “What are you hiding Mr. Min?”

Wordlessly, he brings his arm forward. In his hand is a bouquet of baby’s breath flowers.

“How did you-” you start.

“I know” he erases the distance between you as he stops just shy of invading your intimate space and holds out the flowers.

You reach for them. “Thank you. But how do you know I like these?”

“You said it” he mentions.

“I did?” you look at him puzzled.

“Two nights ago. We were talking about using florals to brighten up the aesthetic for Karla’s company and you mentioned baby’s breath is your favourite flower”

“ I don’t even remember saying that” you shake your head, almost in disbelief that he remembered. “You actually remembered?”

He nods. “I remember everything you say” he replies“ no matter how sharply you put it” he adds with a chuckle.

At a loss for words, all you can do is stare at the man filled with a foreign feeling.

“Thank you” you finally manage to say.

“You’re very welcome” his lips curve into a smile.

He returns to his seat while you place the flowers on his desk as gently as you can. Once he’s seated you take the opportunity to ask. “Mr. Min” you address him.

“Yeah” he looks at you in a way that makes your heart race faster.

“Why did you give me these?” it feels like the incessant urgent know has been satisfied and you feel relieved.

He shrugs. “I don’t know. I guess I wanted to” he looks down at the papers in front of him. A few moments of silence pass as you continue studying him while he keeps his gaze downcast. “An-anyway let's get back to it” he quickly changes the subject.

You nod. Under the dim lighting of his office, for the very first time you notice how handsome he looks. His skin looks like porcelain, his eyes glimmer with a hint of golden flecks around the irises. His lips look buttery soft. You bite back on your lip as you realize how much quicker you’re breathing.

“Is something wrong?” Yoongi questions as he looks up at you.

You vigourously shake your head. “I just— I am sorry”

“I caught you staring didn’t I?” he responds but it’s not really meant to be a question. “I don’t mind. I like the attention” he winks.

Your eyes widen. “I— I wasn’t” your attempt at denying it is futile and even you know it. But you have to at least attempt to save face.

“If it helps, I actually think it’s cute” his lips upturn in a playful smile.

You keep mum, considering there is nothing to say. Even though you don’t speak, the smile on your lips says everything Yoongi needs to know.

You hear him softly laughing and you can sense him just shaking his head. Then you hear something and you aren’t sure if you hear it right but it sounds an awful lot like “you’re cute miss y/n”

You end up spending another hour brainstorming ideas. After that last exchange between you, you thought you couldn’t concentrate. But you did. And once more you flirted a little, exchanged gazes, and avoid as hard as you can to pay no mind to the vibe between you.

“I think we should call it a night” Yoongi stretches his arms over his head with a groan. “You’re tired too”

“Okay” you start gathering all the papers into a pile.

“Don’t worry about this” he waves his hand in a dismissive manner. “I’ll do it. Start getting your stuff together. I’ll drop you off”

“You don’t have to” you reply, the burdensome feeling coming on. “I can go home”

“Did I give you a choice?” he narrows his eyes at you. “Just because I got you these flowers, and that spa day and gave you Karla doesn’t mean you get to tell what I have or don’t have to do. Got it” he sounds a little stern, but in a way where he’s being thoughtful more than trying to be a jerk.

“Yes, Mr. Min” the meekness in your voice surprises you. As you stand in front of him you cannot understand what brings on this sudden submissive attitude. But you have already agreed and something tells you Mr. Min won’t take no for an answer.

“I’ll be right there” he motions to the door with his head, indicating that you should pack up.

“Okay” you pick up the bouquet and quietly walk out of his office.

The walk back to your desk is filled with mixed emotions. A fluttery feeling floats in your stomach, giving you the perception that your head is spinning. You almost stumble as you reach your desk. You realize you’re breathless as you grip onto the edges of the desk to steady yourself. “Shit. So much for keeping it professional” you mutter while you grab your bag. You sling it over your shoulder. You gather the flowers in your hand as you wait for Yoongi.

Moments later he’s coming out. “Ready?” he asks.

With a dry mouth and dizzying intoxication brought upon his presence all you do is nod.

“After you.” he says.

Maybe he isn’t an asshole after all.

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The sounds of crickets chirping in the silence of the night help shroud some of your thoughts. But not enough apparently because merely Yoongi’s presence is enough to send you in a tizzy. It’s maybe only been about five seconds since Yoongi stopped in front of your house but it sure feels like hours.

“Umm” you’re the first to break the silence. “Well, thank you for the ride an-and for these flowers”

“You’re welcome” comes his quiet voice.

You unlock the door, one foot already out of the door.

“Wait” his hand on your forearm stops you.

You turn to look at him. “Yeah?”

“I actually brought you these flowers because I was going to ask you on a date” he confesses.

“Oh” is all you can manage. You don’t know what else to say.

“So, will you…?” he sounds unsure as he says these words, almost like he himself doesn’t know.

He sounds sincere enough. But as it stands you have two choices: give in easily at which point you may as well give up any hope in future of asking him for anything. Or you could just play hard to get so he knows it won’t be easy.

“I’ll think about” confidence flows through your voice, and along with a coy smirk on your lips.

Yoongi’s previously solemn expression is replaced by a crooked smile. He studies you quietly, making you wonder what he’s thinking. “I’ll give you five minutes”

“No. If that’s how long you think it takes to figure out whether I want to give you a chance, then my answer is no”.

“Fine. How long do you want?”

“It’s not about long I want Mr. Min. It’s about how long you are willing to wait” and without hearing his response you exit the car.

All Yoongi can do is stare at you open-mouthed-- stunned and in utter disbelief.

You didn’t know Yoongi would wait for two whole months. You didn’t expect him to keep it professional between you either

You also didn’t expect Min Yoongi to come to your desk at 2 pm and ask you to look over the designs for one of your clients.

“You look lovely today y/n” he stops next to your desk, holding out a file for you.

“I always look lovely” you take the file from him, dismissing his compliment because you’re sure he’s just buttering you up into doing something for him. Not that you wouldn’t if he hadn’t said anything.

“I mean it” his voice softens as he recognizes your disbelief. “Blue looks good on you’” he motions to your blue blouse, and looks you straight in the eyes. He doesn’t even flinch-- which means he actually probably means it.

You certainly don’t regret picking it out anymore. “Thank you”

“You’re very welcome.” he adds with a smile that stretches into a grin. “Oh and can you look this over. Please and thank you”

“I will” you nod. “Question for you”

“Anything” he half sits on your desk as he awaits your ask.

“Did you come here to give me the file or to tell me I look good?”

“I came here to tell you, you look beautiful if what you’re after is my motive” the corners of his mouth turn up in a soft flirty smile.

“I am. But I’ll also look at this” you gesture to the file in your hand.

He acknowledges your response with a nod as he turns around and starts towards his office.

“Mr. Min” you call out and he turns around. “That suit looks great on you”

It takes him a second to comprehend your words, but as soon as he does, he’s back to smiling. “Thank you y/n”

Just as easily he struts away, just as easily everyone around you is stunned into silence. It looks like a comic scene as everyone looks at Yoongi’s retreating figure with mouth’s agape.

“Did he flirt with you?” one of your coworker’s peers over the divide between your cubicles.

You look up at him. “Yes he did”

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At 4 pm, you walk back to his office with your notes on the changes that should be made. You knock on the door once. He doesn’t answer so you take it as your cue to enter.

“Here are the notes” you hold out the file as you stop just in front of his desk.

“It’s already done?” Yoongi is forced to look up his work.

“Yes and yes”

“Okay. You can leave it on the desk” he goes back to his work.

You wait for him to catch on. But he doesn’t. So you start towards the door.

“Wait” he calls out. “Yes and Yes?”

You turn around, feeling giddy with anticipation.

“What’s the second yes for?” he looks at you puzzled.

“I guess you don’t want to go on that date anymore” you quirk a brow.

He closes his laptop and leans back in his chair. “Took you long enough”

“You reap what you sow Mr. Min”

“Is that right?” it’s rhetorical of course but you nod anyway.

He chuckles. “Let’s go “ he grabs his coat from the back of the chair and swings it around and on his shoulders.

You look at him puzzled. “Right now? What about work?”

“First, I am the boss so I make the rules and I say we go. Second, I made the mistake of offering you five minutes of time to make your decision. You really think I am going to give you a day or two for this date”

You can’t help but laugh. “In that case Mr. Min, let’s go”

He heads to the door first as you follow “After you” he opens it and you’re almost out of the door when he shuts the door. “Wait. I have to do something” he pulls you to himself, supporting you by the waist as he presses his lips to yours.

Maybe time stops when his lips meet yours. But the flutter in your stomach only intensifies. You feel weak in the knees. You hold onto the nape of Yoongi’s neck as your legs begin to tingle. Yoongi’s hands rest on your sides, and gently make their way up to cup your cheeks. You moan into his mouth, as his tongue dances against your lips.

Yoongi keeps his eyes slightly open as he pulls back for air. He wasn’t sure if he was dreaming so he held onto you tighter, causing you to become aware of the contour of his body flush against yours. “I am sorry if I took you by surprise” he’s slightly breathless and flushed. “I wasn’t sure how the date would go and if I would get the chance to do this. If you don’t want to go anymore” he stops to lick his lips. “I would understand” he finishes.

“So you’re not an asshole after all” you look at him through the curtain of your eyelashes.

He raises a brow at you silently telling you to consider your wording as if you're treading on thin ice. “I am still your boss”

You shrug. “You lost the upper hand when you asked me out”

“I knew I liked you for a reason” he says while he takes a tiny step back to give you space and time to collect yourself.

“I think I might fall” your breathless voice takes you by surprise.

“You already have” he curls his fingers around yours.

Hand in hand you walk out of his office, causing ruckus in your wake as your coworkers gawk in disbelief at your departing figures. Because how could Mr.Min be acting like this? More importantly, how could Mr. Min be smiling like an absolute idiot.

I hope you enjoyed it :) Don’t forget to like and reblog! Thank you for reading.

[iamtaekooked]

Mr. Min

↳Pairing: Min Yoongi x female reader 

↳Genre: Romance (all fluff)

↳Word count: 4.7K 

↳Rating: G 

↳Warnings: None

↳Summary: 

 Min Yoongi is the asshole boss who keeps you late at work every night. But then you find out why and it gives you the upper hand.

A/N: I hope you guys like it!! Finally wrote something less than 5k. It has been a while for sure. 

Your hand begins cramping as you finish writing the report for asshole number one Min Yoongi. Writing a report is easy, but having to write it by hand is what makes you want to strangle him. The tiny blue desk clock strikes 11 pm and once again you lose out on the opportunity to live your life. At this point, you have lost track of how many times you have stayed late at the office while your friends enjoy their weekends with dinners, movies and activities. Sometimes it’s so bad that you video call them just as you’re about to drift off to sleep.

You don’t even bother to hope to go home early anymore. Min Yoongi always finds ways to make you stay late with him. You went through the five stages of grief at first because you felt your life was being taken away from you. You even thought of threatening him with a lawsuit because he couldn’t make you work over 40 hours a week. When you did he was quick to turn the tables by offering you overtime pay-- and not a measly sum. It was money you couldn’t turn away. So, once again you let yourself fall prey to his actions.

Slowly but surely you began getting used to this so-called “routine”. Gradually, hours started fading into one another until one day you became so habituated with staying late (and to the mind-boggling pay) that Yoongi didn’t even have to come to your cubicle to hand you anything. You already asked him in the morning for your evening assignment. One would think this would be a hint for him-- but no. The man was as clueless as one could be.

Like any other night, you had an assignment, one which Yoongi labelled as important. But then again everything was important. Any task he assigned (or rather you asked for) he classified as important. You wondered if he understood what the word means because if everything is important then technically nothing is. Rather than ask him about it, which wasn’t necessary anyway you did what you were handsomely paid to do.

A sigh passed your dry lips. Once again you grabbed the pen and began writing-- this time going as fast as your wrist would allow. The ink flowed from the pen to the paper in black scribbles, hardly understandable. But you could not bring yourself to care. He would have to deal with it, and that was that.

Having written the last sentence, you capped the pen and pushed back the chair so you could go to his office. Your heels hurt from wearing six-inch pumps all day. No less would do because turns out asshole Min Yoongi had made that provision because apparently, it looked “more professional”. While walking to his office you just imagined torturing him in your mind by making him wear these fucking heels. It was slightly comical imagery but also satisfying, so much so that you could not help yourself from smiling.

You knocked on the opaque glass door as you reached his office. It was customary for you to knock once and for him to not answer. Normally you would slide the documents or whatever is needed under the door because Yoongi had specifically requested he not be disturbed. But something prompted you to stick your head against the glass door and peer inside through the clear margins. You couldn’t see anything so despite Yoongi’s “request” you turned the knob, opened the door slightly and peeked your head inside. The scene in front of you however was not quite something you were expecting.

Min Yoongi was laying back against his very comfortable looking plush leather rotating chair, with his headphones on, legs resting on top of the table and his eyes fixed with a concentration on his laptop. There were empty boxes of takeout at his desk and the whole image conveyed to you that he hadn’t actually done any work. It was an inkling, which means you could be wrong. But you would be damned if you didn’t make your presence known.

You walked inside, standing halfway between him and the door and cleared your throat as loud as you could. There was no response as expected. You walked a few steps and stopped just short of his desk, yet he still did not notice you. You looked at the report in your hand and threw it on his desk, which landed with a thud. He jumped, and finally looked at you. It took a second but the realization dawned on him. His eyes bulged like he had been caught red-handed and you noticed his adam’s apple bob as he gulped hard.

He hastily took off his earphones and straightened in his chair. “I thought I told you not to disturb me”

“I am sorry, did I ruin the fun?” your brows knit together.

“Do you have the report?” he asked instead.

You look at the papers on his desk and then back at him to make him aware of it sitting in front of his eyes.  

He fumbles with the papers and picks them up. While he’s busy scanning the papers you take in the state of his desk. One side is completely neat with all the binders and files organized, and the other is just filled with trash. As you’re busy studying the contents of his desk, you notice the name of your client’s company on one of the papers. Curiously you reach towards the file, Yoongi still busy reading your report. You scan the pages and realize without even having to read halfway through it that Yoongi had already finished the report and it was marked with yesterday’s date, which means he already sent it to the client.

“Do you care to explain this Mr. Min?” your fingers curl into a fist around the papers.

His eyes widen once more. “Oh shit” he mumbles-- a deer caught in the headlights expression on his face.

He sighs, dropping your report on the table. “Oh fuck” he rubs his forehead. “It’s nothing,” he says with a straight face just a moment after looking like he’d been caught.

“It looks like you already completed the report. Why did I have to do it if you already did it?”

“I wanted you to” he’s quick to reply.

“I am sorry Mr. Min but that is not a good enough explanation. I stayed here even though I did not have to. I find it unfair that I have to do work that has already been done-- and that too by you. I doubt you don’t trust yourself with work”

“That’s enough with the questions” he replied curtly.

“Wait a minute” you look back at the pile of papers on his desk and find a presentation he had asked you to make for him a week ago. However,  the date this presentation was printed was a week before that which means that once again he made you do something that had already been done. Sensing a pattern you decided to confront him right then and there.

“Pardon my french, but why the hell have I been doing work that had already been done?”

Yoongi sighed once more, but this time he sounded more defeated than the first. “Look, I can’t give you an explanation you will like. There isn’t one. But I’ll tell you the truth”

“Good” you fold your arms across your chest.

“You won’t like this either but I asked you to stay late because I wanted you to be here with me. I never got used to working late at night. Something about being alone always irked me, so I started keeping people around. It’s not right, I know” he’s quick to justify just as he noticed you opening your mouth to speak. “Trust me, I know. But then when Brian left and you joined, I knew that I needed you around. So I started asking you to stay late. Turns out, I liked your company more than I have liked anyone else’s so I even started paying you to stay late, which I have never done either” he finishes, The only problem is he doesn’t sound sincere enough. It’s like he’s telling you for the sake of telling you.

“I am sorry Mr. Min but you are not a child. I can’t be putting my life on hold just so you don’t have to be alone at night. Do you have any idea how many occasions and opportunities I have missed in my life because of this? I couldn’t attend my best friend’s graduation, I couldn’t be there for the birth of my nephew because I was here slaving away. To think it was for nothing is terrible. You should really say sorry” you glare at the man, demanding an apology you know you deserve because it doesn’t matter how much money you got paid. It won’t compensate for the memories you could have made.

He purses his lips. “I won’t” he shakes his head. “I know it’s wrong but I don’t say sorry”

You scoff. “You’re an asshole”

He shrugs as if your remark doesn’t bother him in the slightest. “Be that as it may. I did what I did because I like having you around. In fact, I did it because I like you and I am not ashamed of it”

Under normal circumstances, you probably would have been flattered and even blushed at having been confessed to. But these weren’t normal circumstances and on top of that, it was Min Yoongi.

“How about this-- you can go home early for all of next week” he offers.

It actually makes your blood boil because he thinks he’s being generous. But even if you gave him a wide berth, this wasn’t even cutting it close “All of next month actually” you counter, determined in your own way to make him apologize for his actions.

He considers it. A few beats of silence pass as both of you continue to stare at each other. “Fine” he agrees.

“Good.” you say shortly, before turning on your heels and heading towards the door.

Yoongi ends up keeping his word for the whole of next month. If it were up to you, you would have asked him that you will never stay late. But after your anger had died down in a week or so, the rational part of your mind convinced you that the money was too good. And it was. So you didn’t try to extend it.

In that one month, however, Yoongi was being awfully generous towards you. You figured it was his way of making up for his actions.

After a week of your heated conversation with him, you found a bouquet of flowers at home addressed to your best friend. There was no name on it. It turned out you did not need a name, because one you knew whose handwriting it was and secondly, the apology was enough for you to know who they were from.

I am sorry y/n missed your graduation. I realize she should have been there with you and it is my fault she was not. I can’t turn back time but I hope these flowers and this small gift make up for it. Congratulations on your achievement.

Accompanying the flowers was a generous gift, one which could have only been given by Yoongi. A full spa weekend with your best friend. It was an all-inclusive offer.

It felt like he was bribing you to forgive him. But even if that were the case, you felt you deserved this and you would be damned if you let it go to waste. If this is how he wanted to apologize, then so be it. In a way, he was giving you the opportunity to spend quality time with Hana.

Hana was ecstatic. “Isn’t it sweet?” she said dreamily.

You couldn’t help but scoff. “It’s not sweet. It’s what he should be doing. Not this exact thing per se. But he needs to be making up for what he did and he is” you reminded her.

“Fine” Hana was quick to give up because even she knew not to argue.

To apologize, at the end of the month Yoongi also ends up giving you the biggest client. This one you feel conflicted about because you can’t discern his intention. So you do the only thing you can. You went charging to his office to demand an explanation.

Maybe he heard you coming but before you could even open your mouth after entering the room he was already speaking.

“I know,” he says as he gave you one glance before focusing on his laptop as he typed away. “I gave you a client because you deserve it. Trying to make up for troubling you is also part of it, but it’s mostly because you deserve it” he explains without sparing you another glance this time. “It just so happens Karla likes you and I think you can understand each other well as women. Not to mention you have great marketing skills that Karla’s company could use” he finishes speaking and the sound of keys clacking stops as well. He gives you his undivided attention. “So” he joins his fingers in a steeple, elbows resting on the desk. “What do you think?”

You don’t even give it a second of thought. “You made a good decision Mr. Min” corners of your lips curve in a smile.

“Of course I did” he reciprocates your smile. “I never make bad decisions” his smile grows into a knowing grin.

You catch the sarcastic play on words. “I wouldn’t be too sure of that”. Your gaze lingers on his a second longer before you nod and turn away to leave.

Just as you reach for the door, he speaks.

“Do your best”

You turn around and give him a curtsey nod. “You bet I will”

You’re back to working late nights, but this time with Yoongi in his office on actual things that matter.

You and Yoongi have been working on a pitch for Karla’s company to convince them to change their branding. You work late hours into the night as usual. You flirt here and there, but nothing major happens as you both keep it professional(ish). There are a few laughs exchanged, a couple of longing gazes, moments so thick with tension you could practically taste it on your tongue.

You lean over to look at Yoongi’s list of ideas, but unknowingly invade his personal bubble-- that intimate zone only reserved for significant others/spouses. You get caught up in the moment as you look at him, and he looks at you. For a moment you think he’ll kiss you. But instead, he clears his throat. “I’ll be back” his voice is a whisper.

He gets up hurriedly and leaves, clearing his throat all the way to the door.

You watch his figure disappear behind the opaque glass door.

“Keep it professional” you chide yourself with a shake of the head.

You focus back on your notes, flipping through the pages trying to put a concept map together.

A draft of air hits you and you look in the direction to find Yoongi opening the door. He walks in a few feet, one hand hidden behind his back.

Curiosity piqued and you offer him an inquisitive look. “What are you hiding Mr. Min?”

Wordlessly, he brings his arm forward. In his hand is a bouquet of baby’s breath flowers.

“How did you-” you start.

“I know” he erases the distance between you as he stops just shy of invading your intimate space and holds out the flowers.

You reach for them. “Thank you. But how do you know I like these?”

“You said it” he mentions.

“I did?” you look at him puzzled.

“Two nights ago. We were talking about using florals to brighten up the aesthetic for Karla’s company and you mentioned baby’s breath is your favourite flower”

“ I don’t even remember saying that” you shake your head, almost in disbelief that he remembered. “You actually remembered?”

He nods. “I remember everything you say” he replies“ no matter how sharply you put it” he adds with a chuckle.

At a loss for words, all you can do is stare at the man filled with a foreign feeling.

“Thank you” you finally manage to say.

“You’re very welcome” his lips curve into a smile.

He returns to his seat while you place the flowers on his desk as gently as you can. Once he’s seated you take the opportunity to ask. “Mr. Min” you address him.

“Yeah” he looks at you in a way that makes your heart race faster.

“Why did you give me these?” it feels like the incessant urgent know has been satisfied and you feel relieved.

He shrugs. “I don’t know. I guess I wanted to” he looks down at the papers in front of him. A few moments of silence pass as you continue studying him while he keeps his gaze downcast. “An-anyway let's get back to it” he quickly changes the subject.

You nod. Under the dim lighting of his office, for the very first time you notice how handsome he looks. His skin looks like porcelain, his eyes glimmer with a hint of golden flecks around the irises. His lips look buttery soft. You bite back on your lip as you realize how much quicker you’re breathing.

“Is something wrong?” Yoongi questions as he looks up at you.

You vigourously shake your head. “I just— I am sorry”

“I caught you staring didn’t I?” he responds but it’s not really meant to be a question. “I don’t mind. I like the attention” he winks.

Your eyes widen. “I— I wasn’t” your attempt at denying it is futile and even you know it. But you have to at least attempt to save face.

“If it helps, I actually think it’s cute” his lips upturn in a playful smile.

You keep mum, considering there is nothing to say. Even though you don’t speak, the smile on your lips says everything Yoongi needs to know.

You hear him softly laughing and you can sense him just shaking his head. Then you hear something and you aren’t sure if you hear it right but it sounds an awful lot like “you’re cute miss y/n” 

You end up spending another hour brainstorming ideas. After that last exchange between you, you thought you couldn’t concentrate. But you did. And once more you flirted a little, exchanged gazes, and avoid as hard as you can to pay no mind to the vibe between you.

“I think we should call it a night” Yoongi stretches his arms over his head with a groan. “You’re tired too”

“Okay” you start gathering all the papers into a pile.

“Don’t worry about this” he waves his hand in a dismissive manner. “I’ll do it. Start getting your stuff together. I’ll drop you off”

“You don’t have to” you reply, the burdensome feeling coming on. “I can go home”

“Did I give you a choice?” he narrows his eyes at you. “Just because I got you these flowers, and that spa day and gave you Karla doesn’t mean you get to tell what I have or don’t have to do. Got it” he sounds a little stern, but in a way where he’s being thoughtful more than trying to be a jerk.

“Yes, Mr. Min” the meekness in your voice surprises you. As you stand in front of him you cannot understand what brings on this sudden submissive attitude. But you have already agreed and something tells you Mr. Min won’t take no for an answer.

“I’ll be right there” he motions to the door with his head, indicating that you should pack up.

“Okay” you pick up the bouquet and quietly walk out of his office.

The walk back to your desk is filled with mixed emotions. A fluttery feeling floats in your stomach, giving you the perception that your head is spinning. You almost stumble as you reach your desk. You realize you’re breathless as you grip onto the edges of the desk to steady yourself. “Shit. So much for keeping it professional” you mutter while you grab your bag. You sling it over your shoulder. You gather the flowers in your hand as you wait for Yoongi.

Moments later he’s coming out. “Ready?” he asks.

With a dry mouth and dizzying intoxication brought upon his presence all you do is nod.

“After you.” he says.

Maybe he isn’t an asshole after all.

The sounds of crickets chirping in the silence of the night help shroud some of your thoughts. But not enough apparently because merely Yoongi’s presence is enough to send you in a tizzy. It’s maybe only been about five seconds since Yoongi stopped in front of your house but it sure feels like hours.

“Umm” you’re the first to break the silence. “Well, thank you for the ride an-and for these flowers”

“You’re welcome” comes his quiet voice.

You unlock the door, one foot already out of the door.

“Wait” his hand on your forearm stops you.

You turn to look at him. “Yeah?”

“I actually brought you these flowers because I was going to ask you on a date” he confesses.

“Oh” is all you can manage. You don’t know what else to say.

“So, will you…?” he sounds unsure as he says these words, almost like he himself doesn’t know.

He sounds sincere enough. But as it stands you have two choices: give in easily at which point you may as well give up any hope in future of asking him for anything. Or you could just play hard to get so he knows it won’t be easy.

“I’ll think about” confidence flows through your voice, and along with a coy smirk on your lips.

Yoongi’s previously solemn expression is replaced by a crooked smile. He studies you quietly, making you wonder what he’s thinking. “I’ll give you five minutes”

“No. If that’s how long you think it takes to figure out whether I want to give you a chance, then my answer is no”.

“Fine. How long do you want?”

“It’s not about long I want Mr. Min. It’s about how long you are willing to wait” and without hearing his response you exit the car.

All Yoongi can do is stare at you open-mouthed-- stunned and in utter disbelief.

You didn’t know Yoongi would wait for two whole months. You didn’t expect him to keep it professional between you either

You also didn’t expect Min Yoongi to come to your desk at 2 pm and ask you to look over the designs for one of your clients.

“You look lovely today y/n” he stops next to your desk, holding out a file for you.

“I always look lovely” you take the file from him, dismissing his compliment because you’re sure he’s just buttering you up into doing something for him. Not that you wouldn’t if he hadn’t said anything.

“I mean it” his voice softens as he recognizes your disbelief. “Blue looks good on you’” he motions to your blue blouse, and looks you straight in the eyes. He doesn’t even flinch-- which means he actually probably means it.

You certainly don’t regret picking it out anymore. “Thank you”

“You’re very welcome.” he adds with a smile that stretches into a grin. “Oh and can you look this over. Please and thank you”

“I will” you nod. “Question for you”

“Anything” he half sits on your desk as he awaits your ask.

“Did you come here to give me the file or to tell me I look good?”

“I came here to tell you, you look beautiful if what you’re after is my motive” the corners of his mouth turn up in a soft flirty smile.

“I am. But I’ll also look at this” you gesture to the file in your hand.

He acknowledges your response with a nod as he turns around and starts towards his office.

“Mr. Min” you call out and he turns around. “That suit looks great on you”

It takes him a second to comprehend your words, but as soon as he does, he’s back to smiling. “Thank you y/n”

Just as easily he struts away, just as easily everyone around you is stunned into silence. It looks like a comic scene as everyone looks at Yoongi’s retreating figure with mouth’s agape.

“Did he flirt with you?” one of your coworker’s peers over the divide between your cubicles.

You look up at him. “Yes he did”

At 4 pm, you walk back to his office with your notes on the changes that should be made. You knock on the door once. He doesn’t answer so you take it as your cue to enter.

“Here are the notes” you hold out the file as you stop just in front of his desk.

“It’s already done?” Yoongi is forced to look up his work.

“Yes and yes”

“Okay. You can leave it on the desk” he goes back to his work.

You wait for him to catch on. But he doesn’t. So you start towards the door.

“Wait” he calls out. “Yes and Yes?”

You turn around, feeling giddy with anticipation.

“What’s the second yes for?” he looks at you puzzled.

“I guess you don’t want to go on that date anymore” you quirk a brow.

He closes his laptop and leans back in his chair. “Took you long enough”

“You reap what you sow Mr. Min”

“Is that right?” it’s rhetorical of course but you nod anyway.

He chuckles. “Let’s go “ he grabs his coat from the back of the chair and swings it around and on his shoulders.

You look at him puzzled. “Right now? What about work?”

“First, I am the boss so I make the rules and I say we go. Second, I made the mistake of offering you five minutes of time to make your decision. You really think I am going to give you a day or two for this date”

You can’t help but laugh. “In that case Mr. Min, let’s go”

He heads to the door first as you follow “After you” he opens it and you’re almost out of the door when he shuts the door. “Wait. I have to do something” he pulls you to himself, supporting you by the waist as he presses his lips to yours.

Maybe time stops when his lips meet yours. But the flutter in your stomach only intensifies. You feel weak in the knees. You hold onto the nape of Yoongi’s neck as your legs begin to tingle. Yoongi’s hands rest on your sides, and gently make their way up to cup your cheeks. You moan into his mouth, as his tongue dances against your lips.

Yoongi keeps his eyes slightly open as he pulls back for air. He wasn’t sure if he was dreaming so he held onto you tighter, causing you to become aware of the contour of his body flush against yours. “I am sorry if I took you by surprise” he’s slightly breathless and flushed. “I wasn’t sure how the date would go and if I would get the chance to do this. If you don’t want to go anymore” he stops to lick his lips. “I would understand” he finishes.

“So you’re not an asshole after all” you look at him through the curtain of your eyelashes.

He raises a brow at you silently telling you to consider your wording as if you're treading on thin ice. “I am still your boss”

You shrug. “You lost the upper hand when you asked me out”

“I knew I liked you for a reason” he says while he takes a tiny step back to give you space and time to collect yourself.

“I think I might fall” your breathless voice takes you by surprise.

“You already have” he curls his fingers around yours.

Hand in hand you walk out of his office, causing ruckus in your wake as your coworkers gawk in disbelief at your departing figures. Because how could Mr.Min be acting like this? More importantly, how could Mr. Min be smiling like an absolute idiot.

I hope you enjoyed reading :) Don’t forget to like and reblog! Thank you for reading. 

[noctuaas]

COLD NIGHTS, WARM HEARTS

prompt; suga + mistletoe

pairing; sugawara koushi x reader

content; gender neutral!reader, established relationship, christmas, timeskip!suga, alcohol mention

word count; 599

Sugawara Koushi was full of surprises. You knew this, yet he still always managed to catch you off guard.

He came across as the predictable type, the kind that sticks to the safe route instead of taking risks. (There was certainly nothing wrong with that in your eyes. Some people say ‘no risk, no reward’, but you would beg to differ; if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, right?) It was evident in the way he played volleyball in highschool, the way he chose courses in college, even the way he taught his classes now. Maybe that was why when it came to you, the simple fact that he always had something up his sleeve was the biggest surprise of all.

The first time he surprised you actually wasn’t when he first asked you out. (You saw that coming from a mile away—if a mile was a semester-long group project in your Technical Business Writing class during junior year of college. If the growing amount of time y’all spent chatting during group sessions instead of working hadn’t tipped you off, then the regular facetime calls you two ended up having over winter break certainly did.)

Instead, it happened when Suga showed up at your apartment after you posted a picture of yourself crying on your private Snapchat story because you had miserably failed your first statistics exam of the semester. In his delicate hands had been a small bouquet of lavender (he had once read somewhere that the scent of lavender was known to ease anxiety), and you were offered a much needed hug. At the time, he hadn’t even officially asked you to be his partner yet.

That had been the first surprise of many to come. Sometimes they seemed completely out of the blue—like his ability to down a shot of Everclear straight, no chaser, or his ownership of a pet chameleon—while you probably should have seen others coming—like his adorable affinity for working with kids, or his unabashed love for the Christmas season.

Suga reminded you of those craft and home decor stores that began selling Christmas items way before anyone was probably even thinking about the holiday. He was reindeer socks and two trees in the house and Michael Buble’s album during the car ride to family Thanksgiving.

So, you should have seen this coming; should have known when he told you that his volleyball team from senior year of highschool was having a little Christmas party reunion, that he would have something planned. It should have been so obvious, what with it being your first time meeting the team that took him to nationals. (You had met his classmates—Daichi and Asahi—before, but the ‘youngins’, as Suga liked to refer to his underclassmen, were more elusive creatures.)

Hindsight was always 20/20 though, so despite all the little warning signs that something was up with your boyfriend of five years—the whispers to Daichi, the fiddling with his pant pockets, the glances at the mistletoe hanging halfway to the dining room—you were blindsided.

“Finally got me under the mistletoe like you wanted?” you laughed, blissfully unaware.

“That’s right,” Suga only smiled in return.

“Then kiss me already, you sap!”

“Hold on, I’ve gotta do something first.”

Suga never told anyone, but he had decided he wanted to marry you before you two had even graduated college.

He finally went down on one knee on a snowy Christmas Eve, surrounded by cheesy sweaters and good eggnog, with the same people who helped his highschool dream come true bearing witness to his next dream coming true as well.

[softyoongiionly]

🧊lo-fi hip hop🧊

You have a terrible day and, Yoongi comes to the rescue.

In more ways than one...

Genre: Fluff, Smut (18+ only plz)

Word Count:

Warnings: a wee bit of angst but, not a TON, Yoongi :o), smut and explicit language.

A/N: Hiiiiii I missed you I love you please enjoy! This is unedited for now.

Also, yes this is technically a FnD drabble but, it can be read as a stand alone. HOWWeevvverrr if you want to read the fic this belongs to, 

subscribe here x

You are having the worst day. 

Like, the kind of day where you stub your pinky toe on the corner of the table, spill your coffee all over yourself and, miss your train to class kind of day. 

It’s the kind of day where all you want to do is crawl beneath the covers and, cry for approximately 18 hours straight. 

Just the girly things. 

But given the fact that you’re 3 weeks away from graduation and, you can’t do that.   

You catch a taxi to your classes, walk off the soreness in your foot and, change out of your coffee stained shirt. 

The day drags on endlessly and, you feel yourself getting overwhelmed at things that would normally roll off your shoulders. 

On the subway ride home, you’re practically holding back tears as you try to reign in all the emotions you’re dealing with.  

You could call Jimin. 

You know he’d be here for you in a heartbeat. 

You could text your two other best friends and, you know that they’d cheer you up with various memes and tik toks. 

But, there is only one person you want to call.  

There is only one person, in this moment, who’d be able to put a proper smile on your face.   

Yoongi.  

The only problem is: your boyfriend is also dealing with his own mountain of stress.   

He’s been in the studio since Monday mastering his final project.   

You’ve barely heard from him. 

You haven’t seen each other since the day after Jimin’s showcase and, that was nearly a week ago.  

You miss him.   

A lot. 

Yoongi has a way of making everything smaller.   

He takes life in piece by piece and, with a perspective that is so uniquely him, he seems to know the right thing to do. 

It’s almost as if it’s instinctual.  

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t need him right now.  

You needed his gentle words of encouragement, the lullaby of his voice, the tenderness behind his touch…  

There is a bit of embarrassment that washes over you. 

You’ve never been the one to need anyone.  

You value the people in your life of course but, you’ve never felt like this before.  

Sitting on your couch, there is strong battle waging inside your head.   

To call or not to call.   

He is your boyfriend so, you know he’d be there for you.   

But you don’t want to bother him.  

You know how much stress his under and, you don’t want to add to that.   

But fuck, today is rough.   

Sometimes you just need your mans.   

You decide to bite the bullet and call him.   

The persistent ringing on the other end of the line is causing a bit of anxiety to knock against your chest. 

What if he’s too busy?   

What if he thinks you’re being dramatic?   

You know these concerns are unreasonable; Yoongi is the kindest person alive. 

But, there is still a level of apprehension regarding asking others for help. 

“Hey, I’m sorry I haven’t texted back today, I should be almost done.” 

His voice soothes you immediately. 

“Uh no- no it’s ok. I just um…” You trail off, trying to contain the instability in your voice but you’re too late. 

He’s already heard it. 

“Yah is everything good? Are you alright?” 

“Y-yeah I just- I just wanted to check in.” 

“You don’t sound alright. What’s going on jagi?” 

His concern chisels away at the bit of resolve you have left and, rather than lie to him, you decide to be honest. 

“I’m just not having a good day and-“ Your voice breaks and Yoongi can feel his chest clenching at the sound, “I just wanted to say hi.” 

“Are you home right now?”  

You nod despite his inability to see you, “Yeah I just got in. I’m sorry to bother you in the studio-“  

“Hey you’re never bothering me, don’t worry about that. Are you up for seeing anyone or do you just want to talk?” 

Yoongi is amazing this way. 

He never assumes. 

He always asks what you’re comfortable with. 

He knows that there are times when sadness is left alone and, there are times when sadness needs a visitor. 

“I don’t want to interrupt you in the studio. I just miss you…” 

Yoongi bites his lip on the other end of the line. 

He wishes you knew how important you were to him. 

He wishes you knew that he’d drop anything for you.  

“I’ll come over ok? I miss you too. It’s been a long week huh?” 

You want to protest, you really do… 

The sound of his voice is too much to resist though and, you find yourself resigning to his plans to come see you. 

“Yeah it has. Are you sure you can? I don’t want to stop you from working.” 

Yoongi can hear the tension in your voice and, right now all he wants to do is bring the light back into it. 

“You are more important than anything I’m doing here.” You can already hear him grabbing his things and, for the first time today you feel a smile coming across your face, “I’ll bring dinner too, are you craving anything?”  

Jesus, you really love this man.  

“Dumplings.”  

Your reply is paired with a light giggle and, Yoongi’s rickety laughter continues the process of lightening your mood. 

“Why did I even ask? Alright, I’ll grab those and then I’ll be right there ok?” 

“Ok, thank you…I love you.” 

The words are still so new between the two of you and, they cause a giant gummy smile to erupt on Yoongi’s face. 

“I love you too jagiya.” 

Just like that, with a few simple words, your bad day is suddenly much brighter. 

After changing into more comfortable clothes, you tidy up a bit around your apartment to prepare for Yoongi’s arrival. 

He doesn’t take long to get to you and, when there is a knock at your front door, you nearly trip as you run towards the sound. 

Yoongi is standing in the doorway with a takeout bag in his hand, looking like the most beautiful man on planet earth.  

He’s in a black v neck and, gray sweat pants and, his black hair is a fluffy mess atop his head suggesting that he had recently showered. 

He smiles at you with a knowing look in his eyes but, before he is able to stay anything, you wrap your arms around his waist and, bury your face in his chest. 

“Hi.” He murmurs, wrapping his free arm around you, kissing the top of your head. “Rough day hm?” 

All you do is nod, taking in the clean scent of his cologne. 

A fond smile is immediately on his lips as he too, is comforted by your presence.  

Yoongi makes his way into your apartment whilst he still holds onto you, setting the food on the counter so he can hug you properly.  

In his arms, you peek up at him and, one sight of his pouty lips is enough for you to kiss him.  

It’s the not kiss Yoongi expects as figured you’d be pretty emotional when he got to you but, the way you’re working his lips makes his knees weak. 

You didn’t expect it either but, you couldn’t help yourself. 

Sliding your hands up his back, you tangle your fingers into the loose strands at the base of his neck, your lips moving slightly more urgently against his. 

“Hey-“ Yoongi doesn’t want to stop you, he really doesn’t but, he wants to make sure you’re ok before you go any further. “Are you ok?” 

He smooths a thumb over your swollen lips, his eyes slightly lulled from the effect your kiss has on him, “What do you need?” 

His questions have multiple meanings and, you wish you had clearer answers for him but all you can muster is, “I need you.” 

A small smirk comes across his lips as he tilts your chin up towards him, “I’m right here jagi.” 

You nod and, move to kiss him again before he brings you to a gentle stop, placing a kiss on cheek, “Hey…lets slow down ok? I wanna make sure you’re alright before we do anything…”  

Now listen… 

The next thing you’re about to do is a little unreasonable. 

It’s a little ridiculous... 

It’s a little silly.  

But, you’re only human.  

For whatever reason, Yoongi wanting to hold off on sex makes the tears congregate back to your eyes. 

“Oh- Oh you’re right I’m sorry. I’m sorry I should have asked...” You sniffle, avoiding his gaze and, stepping away from him.  

The sting of embarrassment heats up your cheeks and, before he has a chance to say anything, you nod to the food on the counter, “Thank you uh- thank you for bringing the food. How much do I-?” The emotion squeezes at the tone of your voice until it’s clearly noticeable that you’re about to cry. 

“Whoa hey- hey…what’s wrong?” Yoongi rushes over to you, place his hands on your upper arms, “Jagi…look at me.” 

You’re frozen in the middle of your kitchen, your gaze fixed firmly on a chewed up hair-tie courtesy of Marzipan. 

“I’m ok.” You insist despite the tears filling your eye sockets, “I’m sorry I jumped on you like that.”  

“You have tears in your eyes, you’re not fine.” He remarks sagely, tilting his head to get you to look at him “Come here…”  

He pulls you back into his arms despite the stiffness in your body before he speaks up again, “Did you just apologize for kissing me?” 

“I just-“ You sniffle, your chest heaving with the onslaught of emotion, “I can’t do anything right. I spilled coffee all over myself this morning, I stubbed my toe, I missed my train, I kept getting questions wrong in the lecture, I am freaking out about this deadline this Tuesday and, then…and then…” You’re trying to speak through your tears but, it’s becoming a jumbled mess, “I can’t even turn my boyfriend on without making it weird and, I interrupted your studio time and, I’m just a mess-  I’m sorry.” 

Yoongi wants to tell you how wrong you are, he wants to slough away all of your tension but, for the moment, he lets you cry into his chest. 

He holds you in the middle of the kitchen floor, pressing kisses into your forehead as the two of you sway gently from side to side.  

“Let’s go lay down…” 

The tenderness in his voice is impossible to refuse and, all you can do is let him lead you to your bedroom, abandoning the food  on the countertop. 

Yoongi is an expert at reheating leftovers as he often forgets to finish all of his food. 

The covers are pulled back despite the fact that you’re still clinging to him but, he doesn’t miss a beat as he pulls you underneath your duvet, insuring that you don’t move far from him. 

“I got you, I hear you…” He whispers into the near darkness of your bedroom, his words punctuated with more kisses. 

“I’m sorry…”  

It’s a terrible habit of yours, to apologize when you’re sad, but it’s a habit none the less. 

“Stop apologizing, you didn’t do anything wrong. You’re just having a bad day baby…” 

Yoongi reserves terms of endearment for when he really means them. Sure, they slip out during heated sessions in the bedroom but, they always have a meaning and, they are never used as just another name to call you. 

“I’ve read your paper yeah? It’s full of so much passion and, research. They are going to want to publish it in an undergrad journal of some kind. You have so a way with words, it’s incredible. I know it’s easy to get swept up in the pressure and, that’s ok. Just try and remember that you’ve done your best and, that’s all you can do.” His hand combs through your hair gently, stopping at any snags along the way and, moving to a new spot as he continues, “You don’t ever have to be sorry for having a bad day. I’m not just around for the good days…” 

Shifting beneath your duvet, you peer up at him with a hopeless glance, “I just hate feeling this way, I feel weak.” 

Yoongi’s pretty mouth curves up into a fond smile as he brushes his thumb over your cheek, “You’re weak for having a bad day?” 

“I mean…no. I guess not, I just feel weak for-“ You cut yourself off as your teeth take their place on your bottom lip, “for feeling like I needed you. I knew that nothing else would have made me feel better and, I guess I’ve never been in that position before. It freaks me out a little bit.” 

Yoongi’s wise eyes follow along with your words, his smile lingering all the while, “Terrifying isn’t it?”  

You groan, burying your face into his neck, causing rickety laughter to leave his lips as he holds you tighter to his chest.  

“I…hate….feelings.” You grumble against his skin, placing a few timid kisses there. 

Yoongi continues laughing, his capable fingers brushing against the exposed skin on your back. 

“I felt the same way that night at my studio. I knew there was no one else I wanted to see.” Yoongi murmurs, the tone of his voice soothing you, “I hated that I was right. You made me feel so much better. I didn’t want you to leave the next day even though I was going to see you that night. Trust me, I understand how scary it can be to need someone but, I know for a fact you didn’t think I was weak for needing you that night. So, I don’t think you should apply different standards for yourself. That isn’t fair.” 

As expected, Yoongi provides the exact support you need. 

He’s right. 

There is no weakness in being vulnerable. 

There is no weakness in having a bad day.  

“You’re smart.” You note and, a smile breaks across your mouth as Yoongi laughs again. 

It’s one of your favorite sounds. 

“So are you.” He kisses the top of your head, his hands sliding down to your hips, squeezing at them gently, “it’s not always easy to see the good in yourself but, keep trying ok?” 

A response from you comes in the form of a nod whilst warmth flutters into your heart.  

It’s the kind of warmth only Yoongi can provide and, it makes you want to kiss him until the early hours of the morning.  

It’s a possibility right? 

You know he should probably go back to the studio after dinner. 

Yoongi maneuvers the two of you during your contemplation so that he’s in a position to connect his lips to yours. 

He’s so gentle. 

He kisses your bottom lip first, lingering for a moment before proceeding to your top lip.  

Yoongi’s hooded eyes remain partially open, staring into your own as he repeats the motions on your lips over and over again. 

You let him, enjoying the plushness of his mouth, enjoying the way he wets your lips.  

Finally though, it becomes too much and your hand reaches up to brush at the tender skin of his cheek before pulling him closer to you. 

Yoongi kisses you slowly, as he usually does but, you can feel the emotion behind it. 

The sun informs you of its dwindling position in the sky as the light in your room grows dimmer and dimmer.  

The traffic outside your window is a distant sound compared to the soft increase in breath coming from your boyfriend.  

“I love kissing you.” He whispers, suckling at your bottom lip. 

You smile into his mouth, reconnecting your lips fully before responding, “I love you.” 

His gums are out then, beaming brightly at your sudden proclamation. 

Yoongi swears he could listen to you saying those three words a million times and, he’d never get tired of it. 

“Don’t try to one up me…” He chuckles, the sound rumbling deep within his chest as he tilts your chin up towards him with one finger, “I love you too.” 

It’s your turn to grin now, your eyes likely staring up at him as if he were the greatest gift in the world. 

Because, you know, he is.  

“Is your appetite back? I can throw those dumplings on the stove really quick if you want.” He offers, his finger still hooked underneath your chin. 

Although it’s a tempting offer, it surprises you a bit and you can’t help but pout up at him. 

“Yah what’s that face for?”  

“We’ve been making out for like 10 minutes, how are you thinking about food right now?”  

Your tone isn’t accusatory as normally something like this wouldn’t phase you but, you’re a bit fragile today and, unfortunately your insecurities tend to pop out during times like these. 

Yoongi still remains endeared beneath your inquiry, a smirk at the corner of his mouth, “I’m thinking about your needs right now. If I was thinking about myself I’d probably be kissing my way up your thighs right now…” 

His answer is surprising and it’s enough to send arousal flooding to your core.  

You’re extra sensitive today and desperate for relief that you know Yoongi is more than capable of providing. 

“I don’t need food…” You grumble, trying to hide the way he affects you and, Yoongi is quick to kiss the pout of your lips, snickering as he does. 

“No? What do you need then?” 

You’re really receptive to his touch now as he slides his hands back down to your hips. 

He notices and, your reaction causes his dick to twitch in the confines of his sweats. 

“You…” You murmur against his lips, parting your legs subconsciously, “I know you probably have to go back soon but-“ 

With a furrowed brow, Yoongi moves from your lips, “Go back where?” 

“To the studio.” 

Yoongi shakes his head, pecking your lips twice in a row, “I’m not going anywhere. I told you, you’re important than anything in the studio.” 

Biting your lip, you nod, sliding your hands up his nimble arms and resting them on his shoulders, “Can you stay the night?” 

A soft smile is on his lips then, “Of course…” He whispers, before nodding to the pillows, “Now lay down for me…” 

As you’re settling back against the bed, Yoongi is up on his knees shifting so he can lay between your legs. 

Before he does though, he smirks shamelessly looking over his shoulder towards your window, “Alexa, play Yoongi’s lo-fi mix…” 

Your mouth parts in shock before a giggle rushes past your lips, “When did you have time to do that???” 

He chuckles as the music starts flooding in through the speakers, “I paired my phone with it when I set it up for you. It auto-connects whenever I come over…” 

You roll your eyes, giggling still, “I should have known- did you make a sex playlist?” 

He blushes at your accusation but, he doesn’t immediately deny it as he slowly parts your thighs, “Stop asking so many questions.” He smirks again as he hears your laughter, feeling warm at the sound of it, “Close your eyes…” 

As your giggling fades, you oblige and allowing your eyes to flutter shut. 

The low hum of the music fills you with a sense of relaxation despite the quickening of heartbeat. 

Yoongi runs his hands gently up your legs, parting them further as he allows his finger tips to tease against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. 

His motions cause goosebumps to erupt beneath his touch and, he can’t help but smile to himself at your reaction.  

It’s satisfying to know he affects you this way. 

Although, Yoongi still believes it’s incomparable to the way you affect him. 

Silence settles between the two of you for the moment as the smooth ambience of the music dances around the room.  

Yoongi continues teasing over your skin; trace shapes over your hips, fluttering his fingers dangerously close to the ache between your legs but, he pulls away to push your t-shirt up your body, revealing your breasts to him.  

You can’t see his reaction to you but, you can hear him inhale shakily at the sight of you. 

“So beautiful...” He murmurs in Korean, the sound of his voice sending a shiver up your spine. 

A smile presents itself as you recognize the word, “You said beautiful...” 

Yoongi returns your smile at your pride, nodding as he brushes his fingers over your nipples. 

“Hmm so you have been studying...” He observes and, you can feel his breath against your skin as he leans down to press a kiss between your breasts. 

You nudge him with your knee, keeping your eyes shut despite your urge to look at him, “Shut up.” 

He snickers before placing lingering kisses down the length of your torso, nipping at the top of your belly button, smirking as you giggle. 

As he gets to the waistband of your shorts, you feel around and gently brush your hand against his cheek, “I didn’t shave...” 

Yoongi doesn’t falter but, he does take your fingertip between his lips, sucking on the end of it, “Good.” 

His response fuels something inside of you and, for whatever reason, it makes you wetter. 

Acceptance in all forms is sexy, what can you say? 

Yoongi continues his motions down the seam of your shorts, spreading warmth and pleasure as he does.  

He purses his lips, hovering over the fabric right above your clit before pushing against it with his mouth, rubbing back and forth.  

The movement is slow and deliberate but, it’s enough to cause your center to throb. 

Yoongi does this for a moment, before he licks up the length of your shorts. 

You say nothing as he teases you because, you know his intention isn’t to be cruel. 

Build-up can make or break a good orgasm. 

Yoongi finally tugs down your shorts and, at the sight between your legs, he feels himself growing uncomfortably hard. 

A deep breath is pulled through your nose as you feel his lips on you. 

He kisses at your lips before licking up one side of you, then the other... 

“Fuck, I’m hungry...” 

The bit of Korean is the last thing he utters before his tongue rubs over your clit. 

The sensation sends a jolt of pleasure to the base of your spine, an unstable breath leaving your lips. 

You don’t have time to decipher what he says because, he quickly gets to work on eating you out.  

Yoongi really is an artist between your thighs.  

He knows exactly where to lick, when to suck, when to rub... 

His quick but deliberate and, yet it feels like it lasts forever every time.  

You feel his lips kissing and licking at your clit before your hands tangle in his hair, urging him to go harder. 

And harder he goes... 

You can feel yourself growing closer to cumming so, with your eyes still closed, you trail your fingers over your breasts, allowing your fingertips to ghost over hardened nipples. 

Despite your lack of vision, you can assume Yoongi is watching you by the way he groans into your pussy. 

“I wish I could do that for you.” He whispers, lightly pressing a finger against your entrance, “But I need my hands for something else.” 

“Oh-” 

The sound is involuntary, the feeling of Yoongi curling a finger inside of you prompts it from you without warning. 

Yoongi can feel how close you are and, he knows it’s a matter of time before you come into his hand.  

“Does it feel good?” His voice is deep but, it’s heightening slightly to accommodate the way he coos at you; he really can’t help it. He loves seeing you like this. 

Your rapid nod fuels him to increase his speed, his tongue still working wonders on your clit. 

“Open your eyes, try and look at me jagi...” He urges, his tone growing reedier 

Of course you do as he asks and, immediately you find his gaze despite the intial haziness in your vision. 

He’s barely illuminated by the city lights streaming in through your curtains but, you can see the loving smile on his face, the arousal heavy in his eyes... 

“Are you gonna cum for me?” He whispers, pressing his fingers into your g-spot, creating a sinful amount of pleasure inside of you. 

“Yes- yoongi...” Your moan is cut off by silence as your orgasm rears it’s head, your back beginning to arch off the bed, “Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Yoongi-” 

He sighs hopelessly into your pussy, the sound of his name on your lips makes him weak, “Cum jagiya. You deserve it, cum for me...” 

It’s not long before you’re sitting up, ignoring the twinkling stars in your vision as you tug your boyfriend on top of you, finding his lips immediately.  

You love that you taste yourself on him and, you take your time to kiss him deeply, showing your appreciation for the work he did between your legs. 

“You came so much.” He whispers, nudging at your nose as he takes his position back against the pillows whilst pulling you with him, “You did so good...” 

Small words of encouragement mean a lot on a day where you aren’t feeling 100% and, they cause you to smile when you tuck your face into his neck. 

“I wanna make you feel good now.” You punctuate your declaration with a kiss behind Yoongi’s ear, “Can I?” 

Yoongi tilts his head to allow you better access to his neck, his hands tightening on your hips, “Please. I missed you.” 

You smile then, kissing at his sweet spot again before a request leaves your lips, “Can I give you a hickey?” 

This causes Yoongi to snicker, relishing in the juvenile nature of such a question but, he can’t deny that he likes it when you mark him. 

“Yeah...just one though.” He warns, knowing full well how decorated his neck would become if he gave you full reign, “I have a presentation in two days.” 

You don’t have control over the pout that forms on your lips, “Just one?”

Yoongi chuckles again and licks his lips before looking down at you, his brows rising in amusement, “On my neck yeah- there are other places to mark me.”

At this, you smirk, conceding with him as you secure your lips right at his sweet spot. A few kisses are placed against his neck before sucking his skin between your teeth.

Yoongi tenses up beneath you, his hands squeezing at the fabric of your shirt whilst his eyes flutter closed.

“Fuck.” He whispers, slightly breathless, “Bite harder…”

And you do by apply more force with your teeth, your free hand trailing down his stomach to palm him through his pants. His dick is pressing uncomfortably against the seam of his sweat pants, the gray material dampened with pre-cum.

“You’re so hard.” You giggle

With a loud sigh, Yoongi speaks again, his voice deepening slightly with the onslaught of arousal, “I just ate you out- what did you expect?”

With a satisfied smile, you lean back into his lips, indulging in him for a moment.

He smirks into your mouth, pulling you onto his body so you’re straddling his hips, “You wanna ride me?” Yoongi mutters whilst his hands rest on your ass.

You’re only in your t-shirt after all and, you’re now sitting on top of his hardened dick, it would only make sense to make him cum this way.

He pulls away momentarily, lips wet with spit, eyes lulled with desire, “I really want you to.” He whispers, kissing you again, batting his pretty eye lashes for you.

Biting your lip, you push his hair back away from his forehead, trying to cope with how hot he looks right now; slightly sweaty, disheveled, horny…

You want to fuck him so bad.

“Hold onto my hips and help me, I want to go at your pace…”

He smiles softly, nodding silently, heading turning toward the speaker, “Alexa- play Withdrawn by Mello…”

Your lips bubble over with laughter as a new song starts playing but, otherwise you don’t comment on it, instead opting to lean down and kiss him once more.  

Moments later, Yoongi’s eyes are rolling back as he feels you sink down on him, his fingertips pressing hard into the flesh of your hips.

“Ugh shit-“ He breathes and, with his neck fully exposed, you can admire the violet mark on the side of his throat, a sense of pride filling your gut as you do.

Yoongi’s hands guide you up and down his length, his eyes squeezing shut once again as the feeling of you begins to overwhelm.

With tender lips, you lean down, kissing up the side of his throat, ensuring that your hips keep their pace on him, “Does it feel good?” You whisper in his ear and, he’s quick to turn towards you to tuck his face into your neck.

“Y-Yeah…please don’t stop.”

You don’t.

You ride him all the way off the deep end, kissing each of his pretty features as he cums, telling him you love him as he’s coming down.

Your orgasm is a natural occurrence when he’s inside of you  but, it wasn’t your main focus.

Sex with Yoongi isn’t transactional.

There’s too much love for that.

You’re laying on Yoongi’s chest now, your fingertips tracing shapes over the skin on his ribs, admiring the instability in his heartbeat.

“I love this.” You murmur, turning slightly to press a kiss to his chest.

“My heart?” He smirks, combing a hand through your hair.

“Mhm- it’s my favorite.” Placing another kiss to his chest, you shoot him a pointed look, “If you say anything sarcastic regarding the fact that your heart is just an organ, I will fight you.

His body shakes with laughter but, he nods regardless, opting out of being a little shit.

“How are you feeling?”

You soften, resting your chin on his chest, “So much better. Thank you for coming over.”

He pinches your cheek, “I’m here for you anytime you need me. You know that right?”

Nodding, you kiss the hand against your face, “I do.”

“Good.” He nudges against your lips, his gums peeking out with smile on his mouth when you giggle. “I love you…”

With all the warmth in the world, you snuggle up to him and, he responds by tugging the blanket over the both of you.

“I love you too.”

[wickedmilo]

SURVIVAL TIPS | MILO & WILLOW

PLACE: A bookstore TIMING: Way, way back when Milo first became a vampire SUMMARY: Milo and Willow accidentally cross paths, and realise they both have the power to distract each other from their problems WRITING PARTNER: @willcwthewisp​ CONTENT WARNINGS: None

Milo couldn’t remember the last time he had unironically set foot in a bookstore. After graduating uni, it all felt a little pointless. He had books, though they were at his parents’ house, far beyond his reach now. And reading felt too trivial considering the latest developments in his life. Why would he ever need books? What could they possibly have to offer him? But this evening, against his better judgement, he had been struck by the overwhelming urge to go to a bookshop. To steal back a semblance of the normalcy belonging to his previous life. With Harsh’s constant, and unexpected support, he was feeling more in control than ever before. Though his grip on his cravings remained tenuous at best, he figured he was capable of a short visit. After impatiently waiting for the sun to set, he had hurried into town, slipping quietly through the familiar door. The bell above him rang out, announcing his arrival, and the sound caused a wave of nostalgia to wash over him. Maybe he missed this more than he thought. Once upon a time, before he had allowed himself to spiral, he would come here. His mom would find new books for him to study. His dad would nudge him away from the children’s section, towards the classics that were technically beyond his reading level. If it’s easy, then what are you learning, Milo? You need to be challenged. He could still hear his tone, the exact way he would make not being able to choose his own stories sound like a privilege rather than a frustration.  

Drifting through the various sections, taking in the new sounds, and scents he had never been able to appreciate before, it wasn’t long until he found himself standing where his parents used to encourage him to stand. They would search through the shelves, talking amongst themselves to determine which novels were best suited for their son. Even now that he had a choice, he was drawn to the books they had selected for him. Maybe it was a warped sense of loyalty, maybe he missed the simplicity of having every decision made for him. Gently running his fingers along the spine of Great Expectations, he wondered whether Charles Dickens had lived in a world of vampires, and ghosts. Certainly Edgar Allan Poe had to have known about the existence of the Supernatural. It made him want to revisit the tales, search for any hint that might indicate the world had always been this confusing. Finally pulling Great Expectations from the shelf, he turned to walk towards the seating area, completely unaware of the person walking in the opposite direction. He stumbled backwards the moment he saw them, very nearly walking into them. A sheepish grin on his face, he did what he could to hold his breath. Harsh had already warned him doing so would draw attention, but he didn’t see any other option when people got so close. “Shit- I’m sorry. I didn’t see you.” 

Willow was to the point of desperation when it came to finding the book she was looking for. For some unfathomable reason it wasn’t available anywhere that she could find online. Maybe it was simply so popular that most sellers had run out of it, but either way she’d ended up braving the trek to the bookstore after hearing they had a copy in stock. Books were one of the few ways she’d managed to stay sane in her self-appointed isolation, filling her head with stories of the outside world that she couldn’t bring herself to experience anymore. But she should have known going out into public once again was a terrible idea, and that became clear the moment she nearly collided with another being. Her eyes widened in alarm at the severity of the close call, already imagining how she could have sent the young man standing in front of her flying through multiple shelves of books.  

“Oh god-” Willow gasped as if she’d been startled at a haunted house, hand clutched to her chest as she took a few, healthy steps backwards to put some space between her and the stranger. “No, no- I didn't see you there either, I’m sorry.” Her nerves had been set on edge by the near run in, and she was doing her best to steady her breaths, trying not to think about the ten million ways this interaction could go poorly if the stranger got too close. “I was just- I wasn’t watching that carefully where I was going, I guess.” A lapse on judgement on her part. She should know better than to walk blindly when she was a walking disaster waiting to happen. 

Milo was already tense, doing his very best to hide it. But it made him feel a little better to hear the stranger’s heart pounding in her chest. Clearly he wasn’t the only person who had been caught so off guard, and clearly he wasn’t the only person so panicked by the close proximity. The relief didn’t last for very long though. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, the sound of her pulse served as an unwelcome reminder of how dry his throat felt, the new reality he was desperately trying to ignore. Before he could take a further step back, the woman had done so for him, and he watched her curiously, wondering whether she might also a reason of her own to keep her distance. “Are you okay?” He asked, genuinely concerned for her. “No- I wasn’t looking either, it was my fault as much as it was yours!” He insisted. If he had been more careful, as careful as he should be given his current situation, this wouldn’t have happened. But he was already tired of being careful. Was one evening too much to ask for? One evening of reading books in a bookstore like a regular human being? “I, uh-” He held up his copy of Great Expectations, still holding his breath between sentences as though such a desperate gesture might be able to fix all of his problems. “I was distracted too…”

“Oh- oh, I’m fine!” Willow tried to assure, not wanting the young man to think he’d startled her too badly— even if he had done just that. “Are you alright?” she asked out of politeness. He didn’t seem very shaken, but it was only in her nature to ask in return. Forcing a chuckle, she clutched the book she’d fetched to her chest, as if it could protect her. “I think we’re gonna have to either agree to disagree, or just let me take the blame.” She wasn’t particularly in the practice of letting the guilt fall on someone else when it came to situations that involved herself. “Oh, are you reading Great Expectations?” she asked as she took in the title and cover of the book. It wasn’t one of her favorites- mostly because she’d been forced to read it in highschool, but it was still a classic and staple. In her opinion, it had ghosts that weren’t really ghosts, and that was something she’d been drawn to. 

Smiling at the woman’s insistence that she really was okay, Milo allowed himself to relax as much as he dared to. It wasn’t easy, trying to find a balance. Trying to stay aware of his surroundings, while also staying aware of himself. He could only hope one day it would become a part of his routine, something he did without even needing to focus. “I am.” He answered quietly. He wasn’t sure how true that was, but he sincerely appreciated the question. “I mean, if you want to take the blame I have a track record of avoiding responsibility.” He teased, laughing quietly at the fact that he was being entirely honest now. “I’m not going to try and stop you.” Glancing down at the book in his hands, he stared at the cover for a moment too long. There were so many childhood memories connected to it that it was difficult to look away from. “I guess so.” He grinned, offering her a shrug. “My parents made me read it as a kid… I’m kind of missing the simplicity of that, you know? My biggest worry being how quickly I could get to the end of a book.” Finally tearing his gaze away and looking back up at the stranger, he realised he had yet to introduce himself. “I’m Milo, by the way… So, are you going to tell me what you’re reading? Hopefully something far less cliché.”

Part of Willow was glad that the young man hadn’t insisted on taking the blame as many people were often wont to do. Generally that just resulted in a tiring back and forth until they found some sort of compromise, or forgot what they were talking about altogether. “Perfect,” she settled the burden of blame with a chuckle, her smile still warm. “Glad we agreed on that as easily as we did.” He seemed nice despite her nearly running headlong into him. Her head tilted curiously to the side, listening closely while he spoke of his parents and books. “Oh- well that’s...sweet in a way. And it makes sense.” She could certainly relate to wishing for a simpler time, often thinking of the days she’d been able to walk free without fear of breaking someone in half via telekinesis. “Books are a good way to forget the world for a bit.” They were her favorite method of escaping behind painting. “Oh- I’m Willow,” she replied quickly, a little embarrassed that she’d forgotten to introduce herself in the first place. “I don’t think Great Expectations is necessarily cliché,” she offered politely with another little laugh before continuing on. “But mine’s called ‘Leave the World’.”

Amused by Willow apparently being grateful he was readily allowing her to take the blame, Milo realised he was genuinely beginning to enjoy her company. His smile only growing as she talked about the ease of the decision, it was refreshing not being seen as somebody argumentative, or petulant, even if the context could barely be considered serious. “It was a pleasure discussing business with you.” He replied, feigning sincerity as he caught her eye. Raising his eyebrows as she called his actions sweet, he wasn’t sure he would use that word but perhaps from an outsider’s perspective his explanation could be seen as sentimental. “Yeah, you could probably call it that.” He admitted, absentmindedly tapping his fingertips against the cover of the book still in his hands. “I don’t know… I hadn’t really thought about it. I don’t even know why I came here really, I think I might be looking for something that’s just... impossible to find, you know?” His old life, his humanity... Realising the stranger was right, his smile softened into an open, and unguarded expression. Books were a good way to escape, however briefly. And though there were no hidden doorways here allowing him to step back into the past, maybe a brief escape would enough for now. If achieving one was even possible. Maybe it needed to be enough. “Leave the World?” He couldn't say he had ever heard of it. “I don’t suppose there are any tips in there? I could use a vacation from this place.”

The younger man’s words brought a laugh to Willow’s lips, and she was grateful for the bell-like sound as she reminded herself how few and far between interactions like this had been. Sure- she’d talked to people in her self-imposed isolation, had even seen a few humans here and there, but there was nothing that could replace the actual company of another living and breathing person. “I hope I don’t have a bill coming in the mail for this business talk,” she teased back. Her shoulders relaxing another inch while she let herself slip a little further into comfort. 

The expression on her face took on a more sincere air as her head tilted curiously to the side, a gentle nod of understanding shaking it in the end. “I think...a lot of people feel that way, if we’re being honest.” And she didn’t see any reason not to be. Even ghosts were looking for something that seemed impossible to find. After all, that was why they’d stuck around in the first place. “But I also haven’t met anyone that hasn’t eventually found what they’re looking for. Sometimes you just need help, you know?” That was the job of the medium or exorcist in her mind— to extend that helping hand when someone needed it. “And sometimes the answer isn’t what we expect, but I think you’ll get there eventually.” Another chuckle shook her gently before she gave her answer. “No tips in there unless you’re looking for ways to survive and deal with the apocalypse. But if you’re looking for some ‘vacation’ books I can take you to some of my favorites?”

Milo laughed too, his eyes shining. “I wasn’t going to but now that I think about it my rent is probably due.” He teased, unable to help himself. He could hardly consider their conversation business talk, but he was enjoying it more than he would ever have expected to. Although he liked his time alone, socialising had always come naturally to him. He had no issue with talking to people, getting to know them when their paths somehow managed to cross with his own. He missed this, he missed making new friends. His smile fading somewhat as Willow became serious again, he appreciated her honesty. It made him sad to know what she was saying was probably true, but it also helped him to feel less alone. Sometimes he just needed to be reminded of that fact. “Yeah, I guess you’re right…” He murmured, knowing the sense of relief would be temporary. How long until he convinced himself otherwise? Until his own mind erased Willow’s wisdom? “It’s easy to forget sometimes, you know? Especially when your problems are so… specific.” He admitted, offering her a hesitant shrug.  

A smile tugging at his lips again, the mention of hope was comforting, regardless of the fact that everything felt pretty hopeless right about now. He was more stable than he had been, though still not used to his new life, still close enough to his old one to actively grieve for it. “You really think so?” He asked, knowing his longing would be obvious in his voice. He made no effort to hide it, too distracted by the mention of finding answers, by the sound of Willow’s heartbeat, by the book in his hands still reminding him of his childhood. “I really hope so…” Maybe she was right. Harsh was helping him now, and things were getting better. The progress was slow, but it still counted as progress. “Thank you.” His smile became more genuine as he felt a strange rush of affection for the woman he barely knew. Apparently she believed in him, apparently she was convinced one day he might actually be okay again. “Hm, I think tips on how to survive might be more useful to me than vacation books.” He was only half teasing. “But if you’d be up for the company, I’d love to see some of your favourites.” 

“Well- you’ll just have to send over the prices so I can get a look at them. My sister’s actually better with stuff like that anyway, so I’ll probably pass them on to her,” Willow chuckled. It was true though. Meg had needed to negotiate quite a few contracts along with her manager when it came to her spot as a blossoming celebrity. She’d missed this as well. Even though she’d always been a little more on the quieter side, Willow had always loved seeing a new smile wherever she could find them. Her warm expression shifted into concern another time as Milo continued to speak of his problems. She might not have the abilities to go along with being a proper medium, but she’d still been raised as one, and along with that came a compassion geared towards helping. “Well if you ever need reminding just message me, alright? I’m easy enough to find on the town forums. My full name’s Willow Finch if you want to search me, though.” Maybe she was coming on too strong when it came to being helpful, but it’d always been hard for her to draw that line. If she wanted to help, why shouldn't she make sure the other person knew it without a doubt?  

“Of course I think so,” Willow repeated with another soft smile, already happy to see the smallest flash of hope enter into Milo’s eyes. “I haven’t met a person yet that couldn’t find what they were looking for. Even if it took time. And even if it wasn’t what they were expecting.” The poor guy. She could practically feel the desperate wanting in his voice, could recognize it because she herself was on a seemingly hopeless quest for answers when it came to her own problems with telekinesis. There had to be an end...right? But a smaller voice in her mind reminded Willow that endings weren’t always happy. Nevertheless she brushed it aside, and turned to start on her way towards her favorite section of the store. “Come on- I think we can find some books that fall into both categories,” she finished with a grin over her shoulder. 

Milo continued to smile in response to the joke, leaning into the way this woman seemed able to distract him from his problems, if only for a brief moment in time. He could see she was being genuine, that she actually wanted to help, and he wasn’t used to that. Not anymore.  “I hope she doesn’t take a cut of the check?” He teased, his smile growing as she insisted she was always going to be there if he needed a reminder that all hope wasn’t lost. It was an odd thing for a stranger to offer, but given his life as of late, he didn’t feel as though his gauge on what was normal even functioned anymore. It had been permanently shattered when he woke up as an official member of the undead. Slipping his phone from his pocket, he held it out to her, encouraging her to plug her name and number into his list of contacts. “I might take you up on that, you know…” Why not? What did he have to lose by making another hesitant friend? “Willow Finch… your name has superhero vibes, has anybody ever told you that?” His eyes were shining as he was reminded of who he used to be, the kid who spent his free time split between the comic book store, and the many questionable establishments White Crest had to offer him. He was still very much that person, but nothing felt quite so simple anymore. He only wanted things to be simple.  

His smile fading when Willow insisted he would eventually find what he was looking for, some sense of peace, some way of being content with what he had become, maybe even some level of control when it came to fighting against the bloodlust continually scratching the back of his throat, he was impatient, but he was also happy just to believe that the answers were out there. He would find them, and maybe, just maybe, he would be okay. Surprised when she started to walk away from him, he faltered before hurrying to fall into step beside her, holding his breath as her movement caused the smell of her blood to permeate the air. He didn’t know what she meant by both categories, surely survival books and vacation books were on two very different ends of a spectrum. But he didn’t care, he wanted to understand, he wanted to follow her. Because, for some reason, she made him feel like there was hope, like he existed as more than some miserable outcome, and that was proving to be incredibly rare. 

[sintatae]

camera roll

camera roll // 2984 words (previously on old acc chimtaehyvng)

…in which the lines between being best friends and being in love are blurred and documented.

pairing: taehyung x reader genre: f2l, angst, breakup/makeup, fluff, annoying kids

You and Taehyung had known each other for a long time. You were there for each other’s graduations, and there when he started pursuing music and stardom. It was always a Skype call away between the two of you. You knew everything about each other, could tell what each other wanted in whatever mood you were in.

The love you shared wasn’t one that was predictable, it was a love that blossomed and grew before you even realized what was happening. It was one of those loves that snuck up on you. You promised between the two of you that you wouldn’t become one of those cliché couples, promising to be best friends before anything else.

Being best friends with Taehyung meant that you had a gazillion silly pictures of him saved on your phone. Pictures of screenshotted snapchats he’d sent you, pictures of him sleeping in weird positions from exhaustion, pictures of messy hair in the morning. Any kind of silly picture? You had it.

Being in love with Taehyung meant that the screenshots of snapchats he sent you were ones sent in adoration and longing for you whenever he was away. Being in love with him meant that the pictures of him sleeping in awkward positions were taken after spending hours on the couch together catching up in each other’s presence, even after you were both exhausted from the jobs you led. Being in love with him meant that the messy hair in the morning was created by you and you alone after trying to wake him up.

It shouldn’t have been such a surprise to you when the pictures slowly and gradually stopped being taken and saved. You really thought that you could blame it on the distance and on the constant time differences and travelling, but when even the Skype calls and texts became a commodity to come by, you knew it was something else.

When you broke up, he had said that he just wanted to go back to being best friends. And you had only agreed because you didn’t think you could handle not having Taehyung in your life, after being together for so long. And you both tried, you really did. But for lack of a better word, it was weird.

It had been the first family get-together of the year, and you had reluctantly agreed to go to your mom and dad’s house for dinner. It was also the first family party you’d go to without Taehyung by your side, cracking jokes all night and schmoozing your parents. It had been a few weeks after you had broken up, your calls and texts rare and down to once or twice a week (at most) despite agreeing to keep close.

Your family had known that you both had decided to just stay friends, but even after telling them you were okay with it, you didn’t miss the concerned looks they sent each other when you had kept to yourself during the party.

You see, your parents had always been your biggest critics especially when it came to Taehyung (I mean, they claim to have set you guys up from when you were little, so you should technically owe it all to them), however they had to step aside when it came to your six-year-old niece.

Your niece was always outspoken, taking after your sister, never knowing when to hold back even when the situation presented itself as awkward. She would always say the funniest things, something that Taehyung just loved and ate up. He loved how sassy she could be, always purposely provoking her after winning at one of the board games she had broken out of the closet.

You remember shaking your head at him as your niece would get so riled up and start pouting, Taehyung eventually giving in and poking her on the nose to get her to stop. In which she’d just giggle and hug him tightly. Needless to say, your niece just adored Taehyung. Possibly more than you. (Oh yeah, without a doubt).

Just as you were taking another sip of the wine that your sister had given you (to loosen up, she said), you felt someone tug at the bottom of your skirt.

“Where’s Taehyungie?” Your niece asked you, while holding a box full of Jenga pieces.

“Oh. Um, he’s not coming tonight, sweetie.” You said, setting down the glass of wine. “But I can play with you, if you want.”

“Hmm… That’s okay.” She’d say, pouting. “Can you call him and tell him to come?”

“Um, I think he’s busy tonight.” You said, even though you knew your smart little niece wasn’t buying it.

“You’re not friends anymore, are you?” She’d say, your eyes widening. “I can tell because usually if he couldn’t come, you’d be ignoring Mommy so you could talk to him on the phone.”

You could only scoff in disbelief at the six-year-old, sputtering out a reply.

“Um, no I wouldn’t, he’d be the one messaging me anyway. B-but, that doesn’t matter. The fact of the matter is he’s not here and if you don’t want me to play with you, then you can play alone.” You’d say, downing the rest of your wine.

Your niece would only huff and cross her arms, walking away from you, probably going to tattle to your sister that you were being mean. If Taehyung had been there, he’d probably laugh at how grouchy you were being, and team up with your niece against you in a game of Battleship, loser having to kiss the other team and beg for forgiveness. (And of course, you’d lose. Every. Time.)

You rolled your eyes as you thought of Taehyung once again. Annoyed that you had seemingly become one of those girls that couldn’t function without their boyfriend at social events. Except he wasn’t your boyfriend anymore, he was your best friend. Sort of.  Maybe?

You sighed longingly as you briefly checked your last text conversation you had with Taehyung. It was about a week ago, and you both had awkwardly been talking about what he had done for New Year’s Eve with the boys since they were away. The conversation had consisted of a lot of dry texting, nothing like the animated texts you both had received before.

You huffed and downed the rest of your glass of wine, grabbing the bottle for a refill. You continued to do so the rest of the night, talking and mingling (and being a human) with your other family members, all the while sipping on your wine.

You were sitting by the fireplace when your parents came up from the basement, carrying a big three-ringed binder. Something you knew all too well.

Karaoke.

Your relatives clapped their hands and whooped, while your sister and you just groaned. Your family members were big karaoke lovers, thinking it was the best way to liven up any party. Your sister and you had grown up having staple karaoke songs that your parents would make you sing at every party, followed up by your grandmas and aunts pinching your cheeks and slipping you a couple of dollars. (Which you didn’t complain about.)

Oh, but your grandma just LOVED when Taehyung would sing during karaoke. There was one party, where after it had died down a bit, your grandma grabbed Taehyung’s hand and asked him to sing a little song. And of course, he’d say yes, always being the schmoozer.

Taehyung had picked an old, classic love song and upon starting to sing, he had begun to walk towards you. Convincing you to believe that he was just about to embarrassingly serenade you in front of all your family.

But nope, the idiot took a detour and swiped a rose out of the vase on the dining table, to kneel in front of your grandma and sing.

You smiled at the memory before quickly shaking your head and groaning. There you were again, thinking about Taehyung. You decided that you would wallow no more (at least where people can see you) and the next thing you knew, you had abandoned your glass of wine and had taken the bottle itself, trekking up the stairs to your old bedroom.

Walking through your old bedroom door, you scoffed when you had realized your parents had turned your old room into their storage area for their little miscellaneous things. You rolled your eyes and walked past all of their junk to your bathroom, taking a swig of your wine and figuring that laying in the tub will be the next best thing.

Hopping into the tub and leaning your head against a little folded towel, you pulled out your phone and continued on in your self-pity. You opened the folder you had of Taehyung at the height of your masochism. You smiled at the memories the two of you had, laughed at the playful faces he would make to ruin every cute picture you tried to take.

Your mind clouded by all of the wine you had consumed, your finger hovered over the call button below his contact picture.

“What are you doing?” Your niece said, interrupting your thoughts. “Are you trying to call Taehyungie?”

“What? No! I’m not doing anything—Hey! Give that back!” You said, while scrambling in the tub to reach the phone she had snatched away from you, your intoxicated self preventing you from being successful.

You knew you were too late when you heard the familiar ringing, realizing that your little angel of a niece had already pressed the call button. You covered your mouth in shock, and waited for Taehyung’s answer.

“Hello?” Taehyung answered, his deep voice sounding through the receiver of the phone. Your stomach reacting to his voice with the same butterflies as it always did.

“Taehyungie?! It’s me. Why aren’t you here, you big butthead?” Your niece whined into the phone.

“Oh uh, I—“ Taehyung said before your niece interrupted him.

“Were you just afraid that I was going to win against you again? You know, auntie’s been hiding in the bathroom because she’s just as bored as I am since you’re not here! You have to come here and fix this right now!” Your niece yelled into the phone.

You tried to stifle a laugh at how flustered Taehyung sounded on the phone, poor thing. Didn’t know what was coming for him.

“Sweetie, is your auntie there? Can I talk to her?” You heard Taehyung say, your eyes widening and shaking your head at your niece.

You mouthed no, I’m not here, to her before she shrugged and replied to Taehyung, saying “Yup, she’s right here. She’s laying in the bathtub being weird.”

You snorted again, not being able to keep in your laughter at this point—you weren’t sure if it was out of embarrassment or out of astonishment at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation.

Your niece shoved the phone to your ear, your giggles bubbling up to your throat.

“Hi Tae,” you said, “What’s up?”

“Hey! Um, so what’s all this about? Why’s the munchkin calling me and telling me I’m a butthead?” He said, and you could practically hear the smile behind his voice.

“Oh hahaha,” You replied. “Oh gosh, she’s being so funny right now because you’re not here. She literally came and found me in the tub, and took my phone and—“

“Why are you even in the tub?!” Taehyung said, laughing along with you.

“Well, because I miss you, silly!” You said, laughing again. “I may have drunk a little too much wine, and just wanted to lay down and the tub was my only choice.”

“Haha, okay fair enough.” Taehyung said, and you felt an air of silence because things were still awkward between you two. You sighed.

“Yeah okay. Well, I’ll tell you the truth, tonight was the first family get together after you and I broke up and of course the little one asked me where you were because she just absolutely adores you.” You said, the words tumbling out of your mouth faster before your mind could play catch-up.

“So basically, I’ve sat here in the tub for the past 30 minutes looking at cute, old pictures of you to feel okay, because you’re the only one I can have fun with even if the circumstances are as dry as this family party. And you know, my niece just adores you—“

“Hey, I—“ Taehyung said.

“So I’m sorry she called you and probably disturbed your sleep, or practice or whatever it is that you were doing—“ You spit out before Taehyung finally interrupted you.

“Hey! It’s okay. Don’t worry about it. Umm…I’ll see you soon, okay?” Taehyung said, before you heard the phone call beep to an end.

You dropped your phone into your lap, facepalming at the realization that you’ve probably made your already awkward situation ten times worse. You pushed your phone further away from you, opting to close your eyes and forget the situation altogether.

It wasn’t until another twenty minutes of you wallowing in your tub of embarrassment that you heard a familiar voice downstairs, promptly joining your family in on their karaoke singing.

Is that…? It can’t be.

Oh, but it was. Before you knew it, your little niece had come running through the bathroom door.

“Auntie!! He’s here! Taehyungie’s here!!!!!�� She shrieked of pure excitement, before running back down the stairs.

Your eyes widened as you jumped out of the tub, taking a quick look at yourself in the mirror (well, you had to make sure) and followed after her.

And there he was, in all his glory, charming your family just as he always had, singing and dancing to the cheesy song on the screen.

You shook your head, bewildered at the scene in front of you. Taehyung at that point had finished singing his song, while your family members applauded him and clapped him on the back. He sent you a small smile, before pointing towards the kitchen for you to follow him.

To which you did, swiping a wipe of lip balm onto your lips while you trailed after him into the kitchen. (Hey, better safe than sorry!)

You both leaned against the counter as he smiled down at you, nudging your arm with your elbow before the two of you broke out into laughter.

“What are you doing here, Tae?” You asked him, finally letting yourself smile back at him.

“Well,” He shrugged. “I missed my best friend.”

“I missed mine, too.” You said, your smile turning into a sad one. Taehyung sighed beside you as an awkward beat of silenced passed between the two of you.

“I messed up, okay? I got scared.” He said, looking forward and avoiding your eyes. “It was getting harder and harder for me to catch up with you and I knew you didn’t deserve it. And it’s such a lame excuse, but I was just being selfish when I said I wanted to go back to being best friends again because I realized I can’t really not have you? In my life? But I was afraid that at the rate I was going that you’d eventually get fed up with me and then I wouldn’t have you at all and—“

“Stop.” You said, covering his mouth with your hand. “First of all, you’re an idiot. Because regardless of what happens, you’re actually stuck with me. You can’t get rid of me, that’s it. Like that’s just how life is.”

Taehyung removed your hand from his mouth and laughed, intertwining your fingers together.

“Second of all, we were always best friends and we still are. So there’s nothing to worry about.” You said, bringing your held hands up to give him a kiss on the knuckle.

“I know, I know. We’re best friends, but now I know we’re even better as a couple and I’m not going to make that same mistake again. Because yeah, you’re stuck with me too.” He said, smiling down at you, before tilting your chin up with his other hand and pulling you in for a sweet kiss.

The two of you pulled apart for what felt like a second before pressing another sweet kiss to one another’s lips. Smiling, you felt your arms wrap around his neck while his wrapped around your waist to lift you up in bliss.

“Blech!!! Okay Taehyungie, I did NOT call you over here for you to do that. Now come play Jenga with me, you butthead!!” Your niece spoke from between you and Taehyung.

You laughed as she grabbed his hand and dragged him over to the dining table where the two of them would commence in playing her long awaited game.

The rest of the night would be spent with you doing what you always did, laughing and singing with Taehyung. Being silly and in love, and all that fun stuff because you were happy and you had your best friend back.

And of course, your camera roll would have a handful of new additions from that night because it wasn’t just a camera roll to save your funny and silly memories. It had become a way for you to document the story of you and Taehyung, a way for you to discover the progression of your relationship.

Yeah sure, you were best friends. Best friends in love, the biggest cliché of them all probably.

But no one had to know that because somewhere along the way, the lines of friendship and being in love had seemed to blur within the story of your camera roll. Because being best friends with Taehyung and being in love with Taehyung had really become one in the same, they went hand in hand.

(Okay and yeah, maybe your niece occasionally played a recurring role in your story too. The little twerp.)

~~

UPDATED AN / feb 10 2020:  hiiiii, this was a cute oneshot i wrote back in 2016.. tbh I don’t know if I can re-write this because it was one of the first ones i ever wrote. but that being said, please be gracious and keep in mind this was written and inspired by 2016 bts. 

i have a lot more ideas coming :) 

[singledarkshade]

Stress Relief

Summary: Stuck with the annoying Lieutenant Coburn on a mission, Rip is being driven crazy. But it's a mission that will change his life forever. Author’s Note: Rip Week Day 4: Time for Romance – Rip is a romantic at heart, ship him with whoever you think is right for him. Any pairing goes. I chose Miranda and Rip.                                ********************************************* “Your mission is one that shall require you both to practice patience,” Druce said as Lieutenant Rip Hunter and Lieutenant Miranda Coburn stood side by side at attention in his office, “I was against pairing you two, considering your inability to be in the same room without almost every discussion becoming an argument. However, you have the specialities that are required to ensure that the mission is successful.”

“What is the mission, sir?” Miranda asked before Rip could.

“You are being dispatched to ensure that the exploratory mission to Neptune in 2151 is successful,” Druce stated, “We have received information that there will be an attempt to disrupt it.”

Rip glanced at Miranda before asking, “And this requires both of us?”

“You are to work together,” Druce ignored the question and continued, “Lieutenant Hunter, your technical expertise will be required to fix any issues with the probe that may occur, while Lieutenant Coburn, as the more qualified pilot, will be there to ensure that it is flown into the right part of the planet if required.”

“Sir, I can…” they both started, stopping and frowning at one another.

Druce stood, “These are your orders. You will be taking the Waverider.”

“Sir,” Miranda frowned, “Surely I should take my own ship with my own AI? Which was put together by the technical team and not...” she glanced to where Rip stood before finishing, “Hunter.”

“No,” Druce said, stopping her before she could argue, “One ship will be overlooked but two will be less easy to hide. I have made this decision and you’re dismissed.” When neither moved, he sighed, “Now.”

Druce watched as the two Lieutenants left his office. He counted to three before the door opened again and Rip appeared.

“No,” Druce stated sharply, “Lieutenant Coburn will be working with you on this mission and nothing you say shall change that. I understand that you two do not get along but, in a word, tough. Now get out of my office.”

Rip seethed in annoyance.

Coburn was not only arrogant but so uptight and smug that the next few weeks were going to be utter hell.

“Gideon,” he called as he entered his ship, the ship he had spent years returning to its former glory, “We have a mission and we’re going to have a guest for the duration.”

“The information has been uploaded to my system,” Gideon told him, “I have prepared a room for Lieutenant Coburn.”

Rip gave a slight smile heading up to the bridge, “Thank you, Gideon. Hopefully, this won’t last as long as Druce thinks it will.”

“Captain,” Gideon said. Although he was only a Lieutenant, Gideon always referred to him as Captain since he was in command of the ship, “Might I suggest that you look on this as a test of your patience.”

Rip rolled his eyes as he stepped onto the bridge, “Gideon, please stop channelling my mother.”

“Lieutenant Coburn is waiting to enter the ship,” Gideon told him.

Nodding Rip started his checks.

“Captain,” Gideon stated, “You are being childish.”

“Fine,” he sighed, “Let her onboard and show her where she’s staying. Although you probably shouldn’t refer to me as Captain while she can hear.”

“I am programmed…”

“I know,” Rip cut her off, “But considering Lieutenant Coburn’s love of the rules and how she will react to the title, especially since she’s going to be onboard for the next few weeks, please just do as I ask.”

There was several minutes of silence before Gideon replied, “Of course, Lieutenant Hunter.”

 Miranda walked onto the Waverider, irritated that she was being stuck with Hunter for the next few weeks. Druce’s golden boy had a tendency to disregard whatever rules he didn’t feel like following.

The fact he had a ship before graduating to the rank of Captain was something that had rankled all of them. Fine he had rebuilt the ship and fixed the AI, but the basic fact still annoyed her.

“Welcome onboard, Lieutenant Coburn,” Gideon spoke up, “I have a room ready for you.”

Miranda nodded, “Thank you, Gideon. Where is Lieutenant Hunter?”

“He is currently on the bridge readying the ship to leave,” Gideon replied, “As soon as you have unpacked, he has asked that you join him.”

“Tell him I’ll be a few minutes,” Miranda told her, entering the room that had been set aside for her.

Dropping her bag on the bed, she unpacked the spare uniform she’d brought with her and hung it up. Grabbing her hairbrush, she pulled her hair back into a neat ponytail making sure she looked like a proper Time Master. Hunter may ignore the regulations regarding his clothing when not on the base, but Miranda was not going to especially as she knew it would drive him crazy.

“Finally,” Hunter rolled his eyes the moment she walked onto the bridge, “Are you ready to go now?”

Sliding into one of the seats, Miranda pulled down the restraint, “Ready. Although as I am the better pilot surely it would make more sense if I piloted.”

“The Waverider is mine,” Rip replied sharply, “I’m flying.”

Smirking that she’d managed to rile him, Miranda leaned back and said nothing as they took off for their destination.

                                 *********************************************

 Rip sighed in annoyance, they’d been stuck here for almost two weeks waiting to see if the suspected Time Pirates would show up to stop the exploratory mission to Neptune, a hugely important even in human history.

Coburn was driving him crazy. She insisted that they follow the normal training regime they would back at the Vanishing Point despite the fact they neither needed to, nor were expected to.

And she was everywhere. The ship was big enough that they shouldn’t have to see one another except when they swapped to watch over the bridge and yet, every time he turned around there she was.

Sipping tea, nibbling a biscuit (never eating it properly she always nibbled), playing with her hair, leaning on the main console as she studied information Gideon provided while tapping one foot against the floor as she thought.

“Gideon,” Rip called as he headed to the galley, “Is there any indication there are pirates anywhere?”

“No, Captain,” she replied, “Lieutenant Coburn has readjusted the scanners during the night to ensure accuracy.”

Rip let out a long sigh, “Of course she did. Can’t she leave anything alone?”

“The scanners are ten percent more accurate now,” Gideon told him.

Letting out an annoyed snort, Rip headed to make himself some tea. Pulling out a mug to make Coburn one as well.

“Does she want something to eat?” Rip asked, as he programmed breakfast for himself.

“Lieutenant Coburn has asked for porridge with apple and cinnamon,” Gideon replied, “Along with the tea you were already making for her.”

Rip looked down at the fact he had two mugs in front of him, he hadn’t realised he’d done that. With a shrug he grabbed a tray and put the two mugs plus their breakfasts on it. Walking onto the bridge, he was surprised by how he felt heat rise in his neck when Coburn smiled at him.

“I take it there was no sign of any pirates?” Rip asked as he handed her the bowl with her porridge and her tea.

Laughing she shook her head before she closed her eyes taking a sip of her tea.

“I will give you this,” she smiled at him, “You know how to make a good cup of tea.”

Rip shrugged, his neck getting hotter as he replied, “Well, Mother taught me a few things.”

 Miranda chuckled amused as she began to eat. Even though this mission had been completely pointless so far, she actually enjoyed being on the Waverider. It was nice to spend some time away from the Vanishing Point, allowing her to go over some of her theories which to her surprise Gideon was really helpful with. Not to mention making Hunter do the daily training regime when he clearly found it irritating was fun.

They’d never gotten along.

They were both so competitive and it didn’t help that they were always pitted against one another. She also despised the fact that he’d had the Waverider since they’d been first year cadets. Logically she knew it was because his entry project was to rebuild Gideon, and he had managed it which allowed Gideon’s self-repair systems to fix the Waverider with his help. But it was still something that annoyed a lot of people.

However, over the past few weeks, watching him within his own ship had been interesting because it turned out he wasn’t as aggravating as she always thought him to be. When he didn’t realise that she was there, Hunter…Rip would sing to himself as he worked, on occasion singing with Gideon. She could see how much pride he had in the Waverider, it was kept in pristine condition and he worked on each system every few days.

To her surprise, he also made dinner from scratch rather than using the fabricator several times during the week. Miranda had been stunned when he made some for her as well but even more so that it was delicious.

“I can take over now,” Rip said as he finished his roll and sausage, “If you want to go get some sleep.”

Miranda shrugged, “I’m fine. Not really tired at the moment.”

He looked at her thoughtfully, “Well, Gideon can set up the firing range.”

“Is my company that awful?” Miranda teased, surprised at the soft blush that touched his pale features.

“Not really,” he murmured before adding, “I just thought you would want to get off the bridge for a while.”

“Gideon mentioned that you’ve been studying the Gosher Riots,” Miranda noted, it was one of the topics she had been given to study recently, “Any thoughts?”

Surprise touched his face, and Rip replied, “One or two.”

 “You can’t seriously believe that?”

Rip shrugged, “All I’m saying is that it is highly unlikely.”

“All the evidence collected shows that it was what happened,” Miranda argued back, “Do you have anything to suggest otherwise?”

He mused for a second before nodding, “Druce let me borrow a diary from Helas that is part of his collection. The man who wrote it was a servant in the palace at the time.”

Miranda’s eyes lit up and she leaned forward, “You have one of the diaries onboard?”

Rip smiled at how excited she was at the prospect, “It’s in my quarters. I’ve been reading it the past few nights.”

“And you’re saying it disproves the theory?” Miranda demanded, as she started off the bridge.

Confused Rip followed her, “No, it actually claims that a chemical was used to start the whole thing.”

“So, you’re not a believer in the so called ‘Love Dust’?” Miranda laughed as she reached his rooms.

Rip rolled his eyes, “It’s preposterous. A chemical substance that makes you fall in love with another person is ridiculous.”

“Well,” Miranda noted, “To be fair it’s not falling in love, just an uncontrollable need for sex.”

Rip felt heat cover his neck again but thankfully Miranda wasn’t paying any attention to him as she just walked into his quarters and headed straight for his desk.

“Oh wow,” she murmured, gently lifting the diary up and turning a few pages, “This is incredible. Listen to this, ‘The sweet smell of the magical dust they covered the palace in filled the air and soon the floor was nothing but bodies, naked and writhing as they pleasured each other, their only intention to reach satisfaction’.”

Rip swallowed at the sound of her voice caressing each word.

“And what do you think of that?” Miranda asked amused.

“It’s a poetic description of an orgy that likely had more to do with copious quantities of alcohol than magical ‘love dust’,” Rip replied.

Miranda laughed, “Oh come on. Why can’t you believe in something that you are not able to put in a little box?”

“It’s preposterous,” he said again, “

“Well it’s not like we’ll ever know,” Miranda rolled her eyes before a mischievous smile touched her lips, “That time is forbidden so we couldn’t steal some to test it.”

Rip frowned at her, “What a shame,” adding sarcastically, “I really wanted to test your theory.”

“I have a small sample of the substance for you to try,” Gideon spoke up suddenly.

Before they could say anything the hiss of the air conditioning system preceded a sickly-sweet smell. Rip felt his head begin to swim, shaking it and blinking to clear his vision he tried to focus again. Miranda appeared before him, and it was like he was seeing her for the first time. Her dark eyes bright with her brilliant mind, her pale skin was glowing, a slight blush on her cheeks and then he focussed on her soft pink lips.

Rip found himself moving and pressed his lips to hers. Miranda’s arms locked around his neck pulling him close as their kiss deepened. Rip slammed into the wall as they stumbled slightly trying to get closer to each other.

Breaking apart for air, Rip trailed his lips down along her neck while she pushed his jacket off him. He moaned as Miranda’s hands suddenly slid along his stomach and in the back of his mind Rip realised that she’d undone his shirt.

It wasn’t long before their clothes were scattered over the floor and Miranda pulled him over to the bed.

 Rip rolled off Miranda, breathing heavily and lay at her side staring at the ceiling trying to work out what had possessed him to do something so stupid.

And then he remembered…

“Gideon,” he snapped, “What the hell did you drug us with?”

“It was the chemical that is known as ‘love dust’,” Gideon replied.

“Why on earth would you do that?” he demanded, trying not to look at Miranda, “Why would you…”

“You requested the chance to test Lieutenant Coburn’s theory, which I gave you. However, the dose I gave you wore off within twenty seconds,” Gideon told him, “Anything that happened after those twenty seconds came from you.”

At his side Rip heard Miranda begin to laugh.

“Rip,” Miranda said softly, touching his cheek so he would look at her. And she looked gorgeous with tousled hair and pink tinge to her glistening skin, “This wasn’t a bad thing.”

“It’s forbidden,” Rip reminded her.

Miranda shrugged, “What is? We’ve been stuck here for almost two weeks waiting for something that hasn’t happened yet. This was just a little…stress relief. That’s not against the rules.”

“Stress relief?”

A slow smile touched her lips and she lay on her side leaning on her elbow, “I’m feeling very relaxed and I’m sure you were too. Before you started having a panic attack.”

Rip stared at her.

“Well?” she slid closer to him, “Were you relaxed?”

Swallowing he nodded.

Miranda softly touched her lips to his again. When she broke the kiss, Miranda smiled at him before sliding out of the bed, not bothering to cover her naked form.

“I’m going to have shower,” she glanced over her shoulder, “If you’re feeling a little stressed again, you should join me.”

Rip lay frozen for several moments listening to the water start.

Stress relief…

He slid out of the bed and stepped into the shower room; Miranda smiled when she saw him through the steam. Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him close when he joined her.

“We should destress a little more,” Miranda murmured, before adding, “And I need help washing my hair.”

                                 *********************************************

 Miranda wandered to the galley to get some tea before heading up to the bridge to check if anything had happened. They’d been here almost a full month waiting for an attack which so far hadn’t appeared.

Since their first ‘stress relief’ session they’d spent every night together, and Rip was getting a lot more comfortable around her. It was amazing how different he was now he’d relaxed. Miranda knew Rip was smart, you had to be to even be considered to be a Time Master, but he had always been very quiet. Although she knew he was one of the top students of their class, Rip rarely spoke up amongst the others. Only doing so when he had something specific to say, which was usually disagreeing with her, so she’d never got a chance to watch his mind work until now. He had one of those minds that worked problems at angles, solving them in ways she hadn’t expected. It was incredible, and completely unexpected, how well they worked together.

After they had a ‘stress relief’ session each night, they would talk. Going over theories and ideas that they both had, they seemed to connect in a way Miranda had never thought was possible with anyone, never mind him.

She knew that once their mission was over, she had to ensure they continued to spend time together.

 “Yes, sir,” Rip said as Druce finished speaking, “I’ll tell Lieutenant Coburn.”

“Tell me what?” Miranda asked the moment Druce disappeared from the screen making Rip turn to find her walking onto the bridge.

He stood, “We’re being recalled.”

“Oh,” she grimaced, “Straight away?”

Rip smiled slightly, “No. They’re allowing us to witness the probe landing.”

“Oh,” Miranda grinned, “That means we have six hours.”

“Well actually six hours and nineteen minut…” he stopped as Miranda pressed her finger to his lips.

“That means,” she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, “We can ‘destress’ a few more times before we head back to base.”

Rip sighed, “This isn’t a good idea, Miranda. We both know what we’re doing, no matter how we label it, is against the rules.”

“Rip,” she breathed, “You have broken a lot of rules and gotten away with it.”

He winced, “But anytime I have done so was in the service of a mission. This is different.”

Miranda shook her head, “I don’t want to stop spending time with you. Even before Gideon dosed us, I was attracted to you, but I had no idea how you felt about me. We’re allowed to care for each other Rip, no matter what they say.”

“But…”

“Do you enjoy being with me?” Miranda asked firmly.

Rip stared at her for a few moments before whispering, “Yes.”

“We’re not hurting anyone,” she reminded him, “And considering how much time we will spend on missions mostly on our own then,” Miranda brushed her lips to his, “A little ‘stress relief’ can’t be frowned upon.”

He continued to stare at her, his mind going over and over everything.

“Unless this doesn’t mean the same to you as it does to me,” Miranda sighed.

She moved away and Rip caught her hand making her turn back.

“I don’t…I’ve never…” he took a quick breath, “I’ve never felt like this for anyone, Miranda.”

Stepping closer to him again, Miranda took his face in her hands and whispered, “Neither have I.”

Rip rested his forehead against hers, “I don’t know how to do this.”

Miranda kissed him, sliding her arms around his neck and pulling him close. When they parted, she murmured, “I don’t either, but we can learn together.”

Still holding onto her, Rip nodded, “Okay.”

“Now,” Miranda smiled, “We have just over six hours before we have to return to the Vanishing Point. Let’s ‘destress’ a few times before we go home.”

As she pulled him, Rip moved with her knowing he was in deep and realising he didn’t care.

                                 *********************************************

 “Lieutenant Hunter is not currently onboard,” Gideon spoke up as Druce stepped onto the Waverider.

“I know, Gideon,” he replied as he started through the corridors, “He’s currently being debriefed. I’m just here to retrieve the book he borrowed from me.”

“Of course,” she stated, “It is sitting on the desk inside his quarters.”

Druce nodded, “Thank you, Gideon.” Reaching the room he easily found the diary and lifted it, “Lieutenant Hunter will be busy for several hours, and a team will be fitting some new fabricators. Your scheduled self-diagnostic has been moved up to today.”

“I am not due for a self-diagnosis until next month,” Gideon noted.

Druce smiled, “I am aware of this, but this was the first long term mission you and the Waverider has been on since Rip repaired your systems. Soon you will be away from the Vanishing Point for extended periods of time and it’s best to ensure now that no problems will occur.”

“Your reasoning is sound, Time Master Druce,” Gideon told him, “I will alert Lieutenant Hunter that I have done this.”

Druce waited until he was sure Gideon was in diagnostic mode before he found the camera he’d set up in Rip’s room.

Rip and Miranda had a part to play in the future, but both had been annoyingly restrained despite the obvious attraction. He hoped this mission, with the planted chemical aphrodisiac, would push them where he needed them to go. In some ways they were both very predictable in what they would argue about and Druce just needed to ensure the material had been there.

Quickly checking through the film captured and smiled to himself as he watched the two of them getting intimate.

His plan was on track.

[shadowthrone-ammanas]

Ghost Kid Chapter Ten: Repairs

Hat Kid was getting close to finishing her attempt at repairing the ship. She wouldn’t know if it was successful until she finished and turned it on. Once on, its self-diagnostics systems would tell her if the ship could fly and if so, how well.

It was nerve-wracking being so close to an answer on whether or not she was stuck here or if she’d have to truly start to consider how people back home might react to her new form. Despite that she buckled down on it, taking breaks only to read her book in lieu of sleeping.

The Subcon history book was dense and thick, lasting her far longer than any of the fairytale books had. The images of Subcon before it had been cursed were the most interesting. It was just a normal small kingdom surrounded by normal woods. It seemed to be a peaceful place, a few wars had been fought over it but not many and none of them particularly bad, all ending in peace treaties. It was actually kind of boring, not what Hat Kid had been expecting at all. It kept her busy when not working on her ship so she kept reading, hoping for more interesting stuff to pop up deeper in the book.

But eventually she reached a point where she finally, at long last had done everything she possibly could to repair her ship with what resources she had. She’d had to cut a few corners but in theory it might work. Only one way to find out.

The ship fired up just fine. Maybe it took a few seconds longer than normal but that might’ve just been her anticipation making it seem longer. She sat at the command desk… where her body had been and thus where she’d died! … Nope, she wasn’t thinking about that right now even if she just realized she’d been avoiding this spot until now. But she had no choice, it was the ship’s command desk.

She quickly punched in some commands, starting the ship’s self-diagnostics. It took it a few minutes but the overall result came up yellow. More info revealed that it was functional but being careful was advised, especially when warp jumping. The computer also advised going home for immediate proper repair. But that was possible, according the computer which was rarely wrong, the ship could safely make it all the way back home. Meaning despite all odds she’d done it, she’d gotten her ship space worthy again. All she had to do now was fix the window and she was free to go home whenever she pleased because she already had all the Time Pieces back – she’d only been sticking around to do the Death Wish contracts.

It almost didn’t feel real. How long had she been working on this? Weeks and weeks for sure, months even. And now it was basically done. But… did she still even want to go home?

Would she be accepted back as a ghost? Would returning dead count as having failed the final test? If so, they’d want take her ship away. Did she want to risk that with how strict the Headmaster was? Her ship meant everything to her, losing it or giving it up was out of the question, it was hers. But… she’d worked so hard to go back home, both before and after her death. And it was home she couldn’t just abandon home without even trying even if it meant risking her ship, could she?

With a sigh, she exited through the broken window, floating down to the forest floor. If only she could take a nap, get away from thinking about this decision for a while. She could read, that helped a lot but… she wasn’t in the mood to slog through more the history book right now.

Instead, she went for a wander. Getting away from the ship and just looking around the forest was nice, especially now that there weren’t any hazards to her. Eventually she inevitably ended up looking for Snatcher. It had been a while since she’d talked to him, days in fact. She found him in his favourite reading spot in the giant hollow.

“Snatcher,” she said in way of greeting as she floated in.

“Hmm… hello,” he replied, not looking up from his book.

“Um… I finished repairing my ship.” That got him to lower his book and look at her. “All I need to do now is fix the window and I can go home.”

“That’s great news,” he replied with a smile. “I’ll finally be rid of you. I can’t wait.”

“Yeah, but…” Hat Kid lifted a hand to rub the back her neck, far too used to the feel of her own ghostly form now. “I don’t know if I want to go to back home.”

Snatcher’s eyes narrowed as he actually closed his book now. “Why not?”

“I uh… don’t know if… they’d let me back like this. They might… count my death as a failure and… take away my ship.” And without that, what was the point? She had no family, a friend yes, but… would Bow want her back like this?

“Who’s ‘they’?”

“The school. I didn’t teach myself how to fly and repair a space ship, you know, someone had to teach me.”

“Honestly kid, if you told me you did, I might actually believe you.” Oh! A compliment, that was unlike him. Exciting stuff. But before she could call him on it, he continued. “But why are they teaching children that stuff in the first place?”

Should Hat Kid answer this? She’d been told not to say anything about her home planet to any intelligent life she discovered. … He was her BFF though so it was probably fine, especially since he wasn’t likely to be able to do anything with the info even if he wanted to. Besides, the rule had been about intelligent life and Snatcher was not alive so telling him was technically not breaking the rules. So…

“Well,” she said, “most of the kids aren’t given a real ship to fly until they’re a bit older. I’m what they call a ‘prodigy’ though, meaning I’m like real smart or something. I went through the classes super-fast so I would be allowed to fly a spaceship.” Once she’d learned that that was on the table, she’d been determined to do it no matter what it took. “Some of the teachers complained about how fast I was elevated because like a lot of the pilot tests and training things are super dangerous and people get hurt during them. They quickly stopped caring though after I aced the first one.” And she’d never cared, danger was fun and more than worth dealing with if it meant she got to fly her ship.

Snatcher frowned. “That sounds like a major lawsuit waiting to happen. They’re going to get sued into the ground sometime soon, the fact that they haven’t been already is a miracle.”

Hat Kid shrugged; she didn’t know much about that kind of thing. “I don’t know if they can be.” She didn’t really care either. “I’m pretty sure they’re heavily backed by the government or some big important organization that wants more trained pilots for their space fleet. They’re into ‘exploring outer space and expanding their galactic influence’ which I’m pretty sure means they’re into conquering weaker planets and expanding their space empire.”

Now Snatcher actually looked offended. It was comical. “That’s even worse kid. What the peck is wrong with your home planet?”

“I don’t know.” Hat Kid hadn’t thought anything was strange about it, though she had grown up with it so maybe he was right? She didn’t care though, she just wanted to fly her space ship. But…  “Why do you care so much?”

“I don’t.” Lies, he put on a calm demeanor now that didn’t change how openly offended he’d just been. “I’m just saying, a school training children and other young people to be part of basically their army is amoral. I have no doubt there’s a lot of brainwashing going on there. The fact that their training is dangerous makes it even worse, especially since they let literal children take part in it.”

“What about all your contracts? You forced me to work for you, doing some pretty dangerous things. And the Death Wish contracts are super-duper dangerous, I almost died doing them more times than I can count. So, aren’t you just as bad as they are?”

“That’s different.” Snatcher made a dismissive gesture. “I’m not in charge of your wellbeing. People who take on the responsibility of raising and teaching children should at least try to raise them well.”

“So, what you’re saying is if you adopted a kid, you’d be a good parent?” Hat Kid would like to see that. She couldn’t even imagine Snatcher trying to be good, it’d be hilarious.

“Oh uh… I guess I’d try to be.” Snatcher shrugged, examining his nonexistent nails. “I’m not going to adopt any children though. I hate kids, they’re the worst. There’s one in particular that won’t stop bothering me, she’s without a doubt the single most annoying person I’ve ever met.”

Hat Kid couldn’t help but giggle a bit. “I’ll take that as a compliment. You’re old so you must’ve met a lot of people, the fact that I’m the most annoying one is impressive.”

“I’m not old.” Despite his contrary words, his expression and tone were closer to being soft than he probably intended. “Or well… maybe I am old in a way. Nothing wrong with being old though. And it wasn’t a compliment, it was an insult. Being annoying is a bad thing kid, it makes people not like you.”

“Well, you seem to like me plenty despite that so I’m not too worried.”

Snatcher scoffed. “In your dreams kid.” He could say that all he wanted but she knew the truth, this conversation confirmed it. But speaking of that, the thing she’d come here to discuss with him wasn’t resolved, they’d got sidetracked.

“But uh… anyway,” she said. “I was tasked with visiting three planets to gather data and stuff, this one wasn’t really planned, as a final test. I was supposed to fly back home and graduate and the ship would officially be mine.” It already was hers as far as she was concerned. “But… since I died, they might view it as a failure and take away my ship. I… would rather not return if that’s what they’re going to do.”

“How likely is it that they’ll take your ship?”

“Uh… I don’t know but… I fear it’s high.” Was she just being paranoid though? Or was she judging them accurately? “And I don’t know much about ghosts on my home planet but… I know there are ghost hunters who hunt them. I don’t know what they do with them once they catch them though.” There was a very real possibility she’d find out if she went back. “So… I don’t know if I should go home but I’ve worked so hard to go back and it’s still home so… I’m not sure what I should do.”

“Hmmm… sounds like you’re in a bit of pickle.”

“Yeah, can you uh… help me? Give me advice or something? I know you probably don’t have any experience in this kind of thing but… I don’t know what to do.”

Snatcher was silent for a few seconds before replying. “Depending on the exact laws of your planet, you might be able to make a legal case for keeping your ship and graduating. You’re a child without a legal guardian though so that complicates things a bit on top of the fact that the school itself is already unethical so they wouldn’t play fair and they’d be able to get away with it because they have a lot of money and a powerful backer. And you’re a ghost, if they’re the kind who want to eradicate ghosts, then you’re probably screwed if you return. So, I would say, if you comfortable taking the risk, then go for it, otherwise, cut your losses and find a new home. You already said you don’t have any parents and the way you spoke about it suggested you don’t have any family either so there’s really nothing keeping you from not returning.” His tone suggested he thought that was the right course of action.

“Uh… okay. I need to think about it some more than I guess.” But really… she’d already decided, hadn’t she? She’d just wanted someone to tell her that that was the right choice or at least an okay choice to make. And she needed one more thing… “If I do decide not to go back though can I… stay here?” Because where else would she go? She was a ghost, a haunted forest full of other ghosts would be the most logical place for her to call her new home. With a bit of work – and probably with Snatcher’s help if he was willing – she could get a docking bay for her ship in the forest so she could take off and land at will. She could take her ship to the nearest spaceport to repair it fully before returning and then from then on this would be her home base. Assuming of course that Snatcher was okay with her staying indefinitely.

Snatcher opened his mouth as if to answer but grimaced instead. “Uh… you know what, fine,” he finally said, relaxing back into his chair. “Since you died, you’ve been less of a bother anyway, so I guess you can stay, provided you continue to stay out of my way.”

“All right, I can do that. Thank you!”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Go figure out what you want to do.” He made a shooing gesture towards her. “And then tell me so I know if I should expect you to stick around or not.” He picked up his book again, opening it and already ignoring her again.

Previous / Next

[homenum-revelio-hq]

Welcome (back) to the Order of the Phoenix, Gabe!

You have been accepted for the role of REMUS LUPIN! We loved your thoughts on the darker, more difficult layers of Remus’s friendships and fears and we were fascinated by your ideas about lycanthropy’s effects on his gender transition! We’re so happy you’ve come back to Homenum Revelio, and excited to see you on our dash again!

Please take a look at the new member checklist and send in your account within 24 hours! Thank you for joining the fight against Voldemort!

OUT OF CHARACTER:

NAME: Gabe

AGE: 22

TIMEZONE: GMT-3

ACTIVITY LEVEL: Honestly pretty active, I’m still quarantined and will stay that way for a good while, probably. Remus is just one of those characters that comes easy to me, so good chances that I’ll be around a lot, hah. I’m most active on the weekdays! Weekends my sister usually tricks me into watching a billion movies or a new show, so I end up being less present.

ANYTHING ELSE: Nope!

CHARACTER DETAILS:

NAME: Remus John Lupin

AGE: 21

GENDER, PRONOUNS, and SEXUALITY: trans male, he/him/his, he’d rather not classify his sexuality as anything other than not-straight.

Remus didn’t start taking the wonderful Attisgalli Corrective Draughts until he joined Hogwarts officially, as his parents wanted to wait for that before they started him on the gender reassignment potions. That’s not to say they didn’t support their son’s identity, which he’d been frankly very vocal about since he could talk, they just wanted to be sure that he would be safe. He already had a lot on his plate. Being a werewolf, they needed to make sure the potions could even be safely used with someone like him, so they waited to talk to Dumbledore and his trusty team of potion-makers about it. Remus was on corrective draughts for all of his puberty and he’s currently on the heavier dose that only needs updating every few years. He has a few annoying side-effects after taking the wrong dosage too early. He doesn’t suppose many people know about this, and he doesn’t particularly care to tell anyone, apart from the people who already know.

As far as his sexuality goes, I don’t think he likes any of the labels he’s stumbled upon, I don’t think he openly – or even privately – calls himself anything when it comes to sexuality. He just doesn’t give it much thought. He likes whoever he likes, and if you were to say “oh, so you’re pansexual, then”, he might simply offer you a tired grunt and an unhappy twist of his face. He doesn’t feel comfortable in any boxes. “Queer” as an umbrella term would be the closest he’d get to labeling himself. All that being said, as the writer, I’d personally put him as a 4 on the kinsey scale, but that’s between you and me.

BLOOD STATUS: Half-blood/Half-breed

HOUSE ALUMNI: Gryffindor

ANY CHANGES: Don’t think so! I’m keeping the fc of Charlie Rowe after surfing through many others because I think he does Upset & Angry right. That’s really important for a Remus, he’s working through a lot right now. I also really considered to go for Paul Mescal from the new show “Normal People” because I think he has a great normal face and (from what I can tell, maybe) some pretty scars on his chin and he has some great scenes BUT he currently has no resources. Also considered Louis Hofmann, from netflix’s Dark, but decided he looked too young, even though he’s in his twenties, too. Anyway, just wanted to briefly take you with me on that faceclaim journey, the conclusion is that I love Charlie Rowe and I didn’t know him before so I thank you guys for suggesting him!

CHARACTER BACKGROUND:

PERSONALITY:

Remus today is very different from who he was in Hogwarts. That’s no surprise, of course – who doesn’t grow out of their weird teenage years? But it feels different with him, and that’s because at seventeen, Remus already had enough baggage to count for an adult. So where does that leave you, at twenty-one?

He is a lot of things. He is tired, he is angry, he is devastated, he is young. If before he was only a boy, crushed under the weight of all the things that happened to him, now he is a man, standing tall but hardened by life’s constant beating. He hasn’t so much overcome his issues as he has simply grown friendly with his demons. His edges have turned sharper, his hands have grown colder, he’s losing contact with his faith.

That’s not to say his core has changed. Remus is kind, before anything else. He hasn’t lost the warmth his mother taught him, because that kind of empathy is not something one easily shrugs off. Even the war couldn’t take this from him. It wears him down these days, being selfless, having a caring vein and needing to look after others. He’s already lost so much, and he doesn’t see this changing anytime soon, as they continue to lose battle after battle, but this is still who he is. He wants a better world, he wants the good side to win.

Remus is also very secretive. He can come across as cold or distant to people he doesn’t know, because he had a lifetime of keeping himself concealed. It’s his defense mechanism and it’s how he’s kept himself alive after all these years.

In fact, he’s not even fully sure how his few friends managed to slip under that armour so easily. Sure, his armour wasn’t so well-built when he was a child, but it was still some work. He was once simply a scared eleven-year-old, eager to learn and be a good student, and suddenly he ended up in a lifelong bond with three other idiots. In a lot of ways, he owes so much of his personality to the Marauders. He bloomed in Hogwarts, he had a safe and healthy environment with people he loved, he could finally grow into a normal boy; he cracked jokes and he made fun of himself and he learned not to take things so seriously. He was not just a werewolf, not just a monster. He’s a great friend, he’s funny on his good days, he’s sarcastic and kind and protective of his friends. He owes this to them.

Remus is a trans man who started taking corrective draughts as soon as he entered Hogwarts. Dumbledore was the one who encouraged his parents to allow this, promising he’d keep an eye out and take care of Remus. There wasn’t exactly any research done on whether or not the potions would affect a werewolf’s body differently, so they’d have to be cautious, but several potion makers insisted nothing should go wrong.

They were right, technically. The potions didn’t react any kind of way with his blood, they did their work normally. It also perhaps helped that most of the side-effects were all things that Remus had been dealing with his whole life, due to the curse: muscle and joint aches, mood swings, headaches. The only catch was that every time he turned, every full moon, when he came back into his human form, the draught had completely worn off.

This made things a little more complicated. It didn’t mean anything to his health, thankfully, all he had to do was take another dose of the potion in the morning and he’d be back on track. It was something about his metabolism overworking, the fact that his body healed itself after each moon. They could never quite fix that little quirk – every morning after the full moon, he’d wake up in a body that didn’t belong to him.

This was when he was on a small dosage of the draught, of course, still going through puberty and taking the so-called “Children’s Corrective Doses” that had to be ingested every week.

Despite the general crippling discomfort of briefly being in the wrong body once a month, it was fine when he was making the turns by himself at first. Then the Marauders joined, and that was weird; it took him a while to agree to their presence and it wasn’t only because they could be in danger. He was scared of being that vulnerable, too.

Because of this monthly hiccup on the process, potioneers instructed that he should be on this smaller dose for as long as possible before he transitioned safely into the “Permanent Corrective Dose”. Five years at least, seven if he could, before he switched to the potion that he’d only have to take every two years or more. This shouldn’t be a problem, he thought innocently, hearing this at age eleven.

By sixteen, the temptation of the Permanent Dose was too grand. It stopped being bearable after a while, the whole “waking up in the wrong body once a month” experience. And the temptation was there because the potioneers said that an adult dosage would likely fix that monthly issue. All he wanted was to stop worrying about this thing – wasn’t the fact that he turned into a murderous beast more than enough? Besides, he was turning seventeen soon, he was most likely done with puberty, he had done the smaller doses for six years already.

So the Marauders made a grand plan. And out of all the illegal, morally questionable things Remus has done, he probably holds this one as the best. They managed to buy him a vial of a Permanent Corrective Dose, and he drank it without thinking twice.

This didn’t come without consequences. Dumbledore was mad. His parents were mad. Every potioneer he knew was pretty annoyed. He frankly couldn’t give a damn, he was overjoyed – it had worked. The moon came, and for the first time when he came back to his senses, he was in the right body, his body. He didn’t care if anyone was pissed at him.

He still doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about the debilitating migraines he still gets as a side-effect. He doesn’t care that his muscles will sometimes cramp, or that his skin sometimes feels raw. He can handle all of that – quite frankly, he’s happy to deal with all of that, if it means keeping his body through the transformations.

It’s important to take from this that Remus Lupin doesn’t shy away from many things. He likes to deal with things head-on, he is a Gryffindor, after all. Once Dumbledore sent him to live with the werewolves shortly after graduating, he made sure to take another permanent dose, a heavier one, to last him however long he stayed out. This time the draught was acquired legally, since he was already of age, but the higher dose in this short amount of time wasn’t exactly what the mediwix ordered. This ended up aggravating his side-effects.

Still – and perhaps that is a testament to his stubbornness –, he’ll tell you this was all worth it.

BRIEF OVERVIEW OF FAMILY:

Remus grew up in a happy home. Well, as happy as a family could be, while plagued by the curse of lycanthropy. So maybe not so happy at all.

He doesn’t remember much of his early childhood, if you ask him. He remembers the looming sense of despair, he remembers seeing his parents cry through cracks of barely open doors, he remembers quiet dinners and he remembers feeling awful. He can’t remember not being a werewolf, but he thinks they were the happiest before that.

They were okay after it, eventually, too. They all had to learn to navigate it, and once he grew a little older, things were easier, as easy as they would get. He remembers that time a little better – the times just before he went to Hogwarts and his time at the castle, too.

Overall, Remus grew up with a good family, he’d tell you. They didn’t have many distant relatives, so it was always just the three of them, and his parents were supportive – mostly. Hope was the warmth of the house, and if anything, she only grew closer to Remus after he was bitten. She was overprotective, and stern, and she had trouble handling when things didn’t go exactly her way, but those are hardly things kids notice about their parents when they’re still kids. He could tell you this today, but his memories of her are still all sugar-coated, tinted pink, gentle.

She didn’t understand his gender identity at first, his father once told him. Hope still had too many roots in the muggle world, it took her some time to wrap her head around all of these ideas. Lyall was the one who had to sit her down and explain to her about the corrective draught, and how common it actually was, how safe. She was the one who wanted to wait for a talk with the Headmaster before she let him take the potions.

Luckily for Remus, he was so young by the time she was having those first doubts and issues with his identity, he doesn’t have any bad memories of that. To him, she never mistreated him, and he never felt anything but accepted. She protected him with all of her heart, and that included all of him, her son, and a werewolf.

In fact, one of his fondest memories of her is getting a haircut, before his very first day in Hogwarts. He usually wore his hair somewhere a little above shoulder-length, a little choppy; he just liked how it swung when he ran, to be honest, and how it splattered water everywhere if he spun his head really fast in the shower. But he was terrified of having magic classes for the first time, he was scared of being thrown into a castle full of people he didn’t know, far away from his parents, the only safe haven he knew. She was the one who suggested a haircut first. They sat and flipped through silly muggle magazines until he found a cut he liked on some cologne ad, and she did it herself. Looks somewhat similar to what he still has as a haircut, if only with more bowlcut-esque qualities back then.

Lyall was more distant, growing up. Hope had little trouble getting over her bias of gender to accept his identity, but his father couldn’t do the same for his curse. If you asked Remus, he never really accepted his child being a werewolf, he was ashamed of his condition.

If you asked Lyall, the story’s a bit different. He was distant, but only because he couldn’t deal with all of the turmoil within himself. He couldn’t look at his child without thinking that he was the one responsible for Fenrir’s attack. He was responsible for his son being a werewolf, cursed forever – how could he look at Remus and see past that? Of course he was distant. Of course he dedicated his time trying to find a cure. As the turns hurt Remus, they hurt his father just as much. Every moon, he suffered with him.

It was hard for him, looking past that, but not because he was in any way ashamed of the condition. He felt sorry, and he didn’t know where to put all the guilt. He didn’t want to spend all of his time pitying his child, but he did. And it was easier to be distant when he felt undeserving of his son’s love in the first place; there would never be anything he could do to make up for this.

In conclusion, they were good parents, but it would also be unfair to completely ignore that Remus has such an issue with being a werewolf, as an adult, and – given that he was closeted about that his whole life –, this must’ve come from his parents. Their efforts to protect and hide Remus’ lycanthropy have not done him any good on the long run, they have not quite focused on the “but also, love yourself” part of their speech. Not to fully blame them or anything, of course there isn’t a “how to raise a werewolf” manual out there, and they had to deal with so much since he was just a little boy, they did what they had to do to keep their child safe. Remus truly believes they did the very best they could, and that they were perfect parents, given the circumstances.

I don’t think it registers to him that they may be the very root of the crippling self-deprecation he feels, and frankly, I don’t think it ever will register. This is not the kind of thing you unravel within yourself without some serious help.

Nowadays, since Hope’s passing, the two Lupin men have managed to grow closer. The hurt is still there, Remus still thinks his father is too cold and ashamed of him, and Lyall thinks he’s guilty and that Remus must hate him. They’re not big on talking about feelings, but they’re warmer with each other now than they ever were. That’s not saying much, it’s barely anything more than the occasional back pat and smile, but Remus likes to think Hope would be happy.

OCCUPATION:

He currently still works with the Dissendum Task Force, as he feels truly at home taking care of that part of things. He wants a job, he always wanted to be able to take care of himself, of course, I imagine he put up a fight when it came to depending solely on James’ money. He always intended to pay it back, to eventually find something for himself. He grew comfortable, the slightest bit, with James’ money, knowing he had that safety net while he figured things out, and while they all had bigger things to worry about. Now he has lost his friend, and he needs to find something, anything, to keep himself afloat, and all of this on top of the grieving, it might just make him reach a breaking point.

ROLE WITHIN THE ORDER/THOUGHTS ABOUT THE ORDER:

Remus feels like a paradox within the order. He feels both at the very center of it, as well as standing on the outside, looking in. He believes in them wholeheartedly, even if he’s not so sure he stumbled upon all of this belief himself, or if it’s been drilled into him by one very dedicated James Potter. And now that James is gone – how should he know how to feel?

More and more, he feels like he’s simply floating around in this war, a walking mystery, neither here nor there. He does as he’s told, he helps whoever he can help, and he won’t say a peep but he is starting to question his own faith, at this point. It’s difficult not to. He had a problem going with the werewolves, of course, and that time was generally awful, but he owed Dumbledore too much to say no. How much of what he does really is his choice, or someone else’s? He’s starting to grow tired of it.

He loves his friends more than anything, therefor he loves the Order, but he’s afraid of how long this might last.

SURVIVAL:

Remus is always on the move, but that’s nothing new to him. He’s been on the move since he was a kid, occasionally dragged off from one side of Europe to another, their family led by his father’s blind ambition towards finding a cure. He never felt like he could truly stop, and he grew up to embrace a sense of restlessness. The first place he truly understood the meaning of “home” was the castle, and even then, he knew his time there would have an end. In a way, this has helped him survive. He stays alert, he stays on the move. He’s always ready to pack up and disappear, as long as he knows he has the right people on his side.

His current living situation is, I imagine, complicated at best. He wouldn’t want to get a place on money that’s not his own, and he’s never been able to make his own money, at least not substantially. First, he was out with the other werewolves, he followed them anywhere and slept wherever he could when he needed to.

Then, he stayed at the McKinnon estate, and even though he knows he can stay there, he’s still often looking over his shoulder, waiting for the day they’ll kick him out. It still doesn’t feel right. It never does. He hasn’t felt at home since Hogwarts – or, perhaps, the odd times in between when he couch surfed wherever Sirius, James, or Peter were staying.

Now, he’s with his father momentarily, hiding. He hasn’t told Lyall anything that happened, he just packed up and showed up at his father’s doorstep. The contact isn’t ideal, but Remus needed the full recharge, even if just for a day or two. Lyall welcomed him with a brow heavy with concern, but he put the kettle on for some tea anyway, and he didn’t ask questions he didn’t want the answers to. Remus deemed that good enough.

RELATIONSHIPS:

Oh, boy. Things are a mess. This is the emo part of the app.

I must start this section talking about how much friends mean to Remus. They mean everything. Everything he heard since he was five-years-old was how much he needed to hide himself, how badly he needed to keep this secret, or everything would end terribly. He was a monster. He was capable of horrible, despicable things, and no one could accept him. By eleven, he’d come to term with this. By eleven, he barely even believed he’d get the chance to study. This is the weight this little kid had to carry around.

And then – enter the Marauders, the best, most miraculous thing to happen to him. A boy with a curse, suddenly welcomed into the coolest group of kids he’d ever met. He honestly felt like it was some kind of lie, or an elaborate prank. Those very first months after they met, he’d wait until the others all fell asleep and he’d write letters to his mom, telling her all about them. He’d write fast and he’d write over several sheets of parchment, talking about all the wonderful, terrible things that boys their age did. He was happy.

Eventually, he stopped waiting for the other shoe to drop. They grew close, the others found out his secret, they never once turned away from him. They helped him. They loved each other, the lot of them. And it was so, so much more than a monster could hope for – still, to this day, he’s not sure how they do it, how they can love him. He owes them so much, but it’s not even about that, it’s not about owing. If he did, he’d owe them his entire soul. There’s not enough space in his body, in his heart, for how much he owes them.

They were, and they continue to be, everything.

And then the war happened. They parted ways, and by the time Remus came back, things had shifted. Things felt off. He was certain the love was still there – it has to be, it has to –, but it felt like it was stained, tainted by something else, something ugly. Suddenly, he’s not sure he can trust them anymore, but he doesn’t know if that’s his gut speaking, or if it’s paranoia.

That’s the duality of man, and the duality of monster, he supposes. Everything trails between gut feeling and paranoia. He’s scared of being doubted, so he’ll turn a pointing finger right back. If they think he can be a mole, then they can be a mole.

He’s terrified of losing them. More than anything, Remus really is terrified of losing his loved ones. He knows he can survive it; he’s lost his mum, he now lost James, you would think he’s hardened enough by now to be able to take it, but he’s not. In his eyes, they are his humanity. What is he, if he doesn’t have his friends? What’s a monster if he isn’t loved?

They all knew going into this that it wouldn’t be easy, sure, but sometimes Remus feels a little alone in how much he feels. It seems like the world keeps turning, the war doesn’t stop for grief. And it feels like everyone else picks themselves up and moves right along with it, but he can’t. Every death weighs on him, every loss has just been piling and piling up onto his shoulders and he doesn’t know how much else he can take. He feels like everyone else is so much better equipped for this. They all mourn, sure, but… do they? They can’t be feeling this like he does, because if they were, they’d be feeling this crippling dread. They’d be feeling how hard it is to move, how shaky his hands feel all the time, how his heart seems to be broken into a million pieces and all of his insides have rottened.

He resents that. He wants to be able to grieve openly without feeling like he’s slowing anyone down. He wants to be able to feel things, and give them time, before they’re running into the next death trap that could easily take another one of his loved ones. He really needs the time to stop and feel this, because it’s crushing him, and he doesn’t feel like any of his friends understand how bad it is – which in itself is the most crushing part of it. When did they all become these sort of robots programmed for war? And why didn’t he get that memo?

James Potter – Don’t get me started on the duality of being so hurt by the fact that your best friend outed your biggest, most damning secret to everyone, and then died. I mean. What the fuck, James. In all seriousness, this is a lot to handle, which is why he deserves to be mentioned in this section even if this doesn’t exactly make for new plots. Remus doesn’t know how to feel; normally he’d be upset at that betrayal, accidental or not, but he didn’t even have the time to process that, before grief steamrolled into everything. He wants to be angry. He wants the right to be mad, to maybe yell at James, to hear his apologies and immediately forgive him, because of course he’s not really angry, he’s just scared. And instead, he gets silence.

Sirius Black – Sirius always has a way of filling up every room he walks into. Remus always thought he’d be better off if he was a little more like Sirius, and maybe that’s why they work – how opposing their energies are. Remus is always trying to make himself smaller. In a way, this is also why they don’t work, on the times they don’t. Sirius was probably the person he trusted the most, even if they didn’t always see eye to eye. It hurts him a lot to think that maybe this trust is broken now; that maybe after all of this, they’ll end up too cold and distant to have the friendship they used to have. He hopes, blindly, that’s not the case.

Peter Pettigrew – He feels protective towards Peter. Maybe that stems from their years in the castle, how Peter was seen as the little kid who trailed behind them and not one of the Marauders himself. Remus never liked hearing that. And Peter is different than the others to him, he always seemed a bit smaller, a bit more innocent; Sirius and James have no trouble taking care of themselves, that’s not even a question. Peter, on the other hand. Remus feels like he needs to help him any way he can.

Lily Evans – He loves Lily like a sister. She reminds him of his mother, sometimes, with her warmth and her determination. She’s the strongest person he knows, and he think he’d probably trust her and follow her blindly anywhere – or, at least, he felt like that when they were all in school. He still wishes they were closer nowadays, he wishes they spoke more.

Marlene McKinnon – She’s too cool for him, honestly. Plain and simple, somewhere in the core of his being, he’s still just a really lame teenager who thinks she might be too cool to hang out with him. He’s grateful that he gets to crash at the estate, but he’s also well-aware of her family’s view of the half-breeds. He can’t quite relax while he’s there, he keeps expecting to be discovered and kicked out any passing second. Now that his secret is out, he fears she’ll turn on him.

OOC EXPLORATION:

SHIPS/ANTI-SHIPS:

I ship Remus/chemistry first, always, of course! I always find that you have to throw characters together in action before you start planning anything, you never know where the chemistry will be. I’ve taken part in many a ships in my time, Sirius/Remus probably being the main one, but in this context, everything’s a little trickier! It’s a very unstable, difficult time, and this is a very sad and angry Remus. He wants something, he wants to have someone, I just don’t think he even knows how, or where to begin with. I think he pushes the idea of romance so far back in his brain, thinking he can never have it, that it’s almost an impossibility in itself because of it. I think he’ll have a very difficult time believing anyone wants him like that, even if it does happen. I really look forward to possibly exploring any ships if chemistry happens! And I don’t think I have any anti-ships, currently. All is fair in the rp land.

WHAT PRIVILEGES AND BIASES DOES YOUR CHARACTER HAVE?

It is safe to say Remus has a bias against werewolves, in the saddest, most twisted way possible. Yes, he is one, and he doesn’t deny that to himself, but there’s a reason why he’s so careful to hide it from everyone else, why he was so reluctant in letting even his closest friends help him out – he agrees with all the stories and tales. He doesn’t feel proud to have this curse, he wouldn’t defend it if someone were to attack it.

They are monsters, once a month, under the moon. It doesn’t matter if his friends for years tried to convince him he’s a good person, he won’t believe it until he lets go of these horrible ideas he has of the curse itself. Even after meeting so many others like him. He may think hating it – hating himself – makes him better, a higher moral ground on the scale, as opposed to the werewolves who flaunt it. He may think some of them, like Fenrir, are worse than him for this, but it doesn’t make things that much better for how he views them.

As far as privileges go, Remus recognizes he has it pretty easy as far as his family life goes. He had loving parents – as far as he can tell –, he had a normal home life; he’s a half-blood, which meant he usually flew under the radar, considering how other wix seemed to view muggleborns, in contrast.

But as far as privileges he doesn’t recognize, I’d say that’s probably more interesting. Remus thinks of himself as a monster. A werewolf, bitten while he was still so young. His bite scar sits on his shoulder, now grown and shifted but the pale scar tissue never gone, an ugly mark. He doesn’t think himself particularly handsome, he doesn’t see many talents that stand out. He thinks he’s pretty much at the very bottom of the food chain.

Which is all kind of untrue, he’s blinded by his self-deprecation. Everyone has privileges, he is no different. He’s a werewolf, and that’s terrible, but other than that he’s not exactly doing too bad. He was always a good student, he liked studying, good grades came easy. His looks had never proven to be a problem, even if he believes it is. He had a good home, dedicated parents, he never ran out of money for books and robes and chocolate bars growing up. If you strip Remus of his lycanthropy – and lord knows he’s dreamed of that –, the truth is, he doesn’t have anything else to feel sorry about. And he’s so stuck feeling sorry for himself all the time, that he has a hard time recognizing his privileges and biases.

To him, he’s a monster, but to anyone else who doesn’t know of his condition, he’s really just another regular guy fighting the war. Of course, now, with everyone’s discovery – things will change.

WHAT ARE YOU MOST LOOKING FORWARD TO?

Well, I’m not new to this scene, hi, hello! So I already know everyone here is an amazing writer, and I adore you admins (I promise I’m not just sucking up for the sake of the app, it’s true). I love Remus, it’s been a few years since I last played him but he’s the muse that’s always alive in my head – this is the fastest and longest bio I ever wrote, to prove my point, aha. I especially love this Remus, the mid-war, post-Hogwarts, “can’t get a job”, “questioning the loyalty of the people I love the most” Remus. He’s feeling a lot. He’s tired, he’s angry, he’s grown sharp edges from the soft boy he once was. There’s so much to explore, and while it’s definitely a little scary to fill in someone else’s shoes, I’m really looking forward to writing with everyone and exploring all the many plots and relationships possible!

PLOT DROP IDEAS (OPTIONAL):

I’m terrible at these, I’ll admit, but I am open to everything you may want to throw my way! I also think I’ll need to take a second to acclimate into any of Remus’ pre-existing plots before throwing around any specifics of my own.

That being said, though, something that I’m excited to explore is his current unemployment. I want him to search for some kind of proper job to try to pay things for himself. I think he’s too proud to ask anyone else for help at this point, and he might have several emotional breakdowns on this process, but he’s gonna do his best. Also anything to do with his current (quite terrible) side-effects from Attisgalli Corrective Draughts, or exploring his gender identity in general, I’d love that!

ANYTHING ELSE? I was gonna do a pinterest board but I’ll spare you guys the trouble for now, this is already 11 pages long. Oops! Thank you for reading!!

[boymeetsweevil]

For science 1/7 -  (NSFW)

Grouping: Reader x Nerd!Jungkook

Word Count: 6.1k

Warnings/Themes: masturbation (vaginal) & voyeurism, unrequited feelings, eventual sex. is this crack yet? lol there’s a plot i swear.

Summary: Jungkook asks you to let him watch you get off. For science.

A/N: posting this now because I’ve been working on it on and off for like a month and im tired of looking at it and jk’s bday is coming up HAPPY BIRTHDAY JK and i’ll be too busy with school plus im almost 7k into the second chapter so..

part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7

Your eyes burn in protest as you scroll to the top of your terminal window once more to search for the error that is fucking your code up. It’s been hours of work and you still haven’t managed to get your program to run even though the homework assignment is easy in theory. In fact it’s just like a problem that Jungkook said the professors would probably give you in your sophomore year, and here you are in your junior year seeing such an ‘easy’ question. With him, it had truly been easy, though. Jungkook was a better computer science teacher than any professor you’d ever encountered. Thinking back to early high school days has you smiling softly to yourself. 

You miss sitting closely together, heads sometimes touching, as you both bent over a problem while he explained why it looked hard, but was actually something you could do in your sleep. The wide smile he would give you when you completed competition questions in minimal time would always set your heart fluttering.

Your phone vibrating brings you back to reality. The caller ID reads ~JK~ and you swoop in to answer the call. If the time in the corner of your computer is right (and it is) he should have already opened his decision letter from the PhD department.

“Hey, what’s the verdict,” you ask as soon as you accept the call. You know there’s no other reason why he’d call you when you were supposed to meet up in a few hours for weekly game night.

“I got in,” his voice is soft, but you know him well enough to be able to hear the joy mixed in.

“Congratulations, Kook! That’s amazing, I knew you would get in, they’d be crazy not to accept you. Oh my god, we should celebrate.”

“Yeah, I was thinking maybe we could go out for drinks before heading back to mine to play tonight. You in?” Now you can practically hear the smile in his voice.

“Of course I’m in. Let me just pack up and I can meet you. Where are you--the department lounge? I’ll come over.”

“Actually,” his shy tone has you sitting down slowly, returning your jacket to where you had it slung over the back of your chair. “You don’t have to leave right away. I was gonna try and call Yoori. You know, to tell her the news. And then tell Tae and Hobi, of course.”

“Oh. Yeah, no, that makes total sense. I should probably finish this code for Choi’s class anyway. It’s due on Sunday, but I’m almost done. Might as well turn it in early once I find this error.” Your hand scrapes at the sides of your jeans, looking for something to grab at.

“Well then I guess I have time,” he chuckles, “Your typos are always so tiny that they take hours to find. Let’s meet up at the bar in 2 hours then?” 

You wince. Although it’s not at all a mean-spirited jab, you’re no longer in the mood for the friendly banter at the mention of Yoori, Jungkook’s long time unrequited love.

“Sure. See you then,” you hang up before he has the chance to say goodbye formally like he always insists on doing.

You put your phone down and berate yourself for getting distracted. If you were the brilliant Yoori, you wouldn’t have even made the typo in the first place. But you weren’t Yoori because you didn’t have the fortune of being born four years earlier and four times more beautiful, elegant, or intelligent. And you didn’t have the luck of being so much of a genius that you could skip years ahead of school like Jungkook either. So instead you would just have to chug along, always watching Jungkook chase Yoori.

You go back to scrolling through your code only to find the error a third of the way down. Jungkook was right, the typo was tiny--a misplaced equals sign. You sigh and run the code to make sure it’s perfect this time, and when it is you send it in to your professor to be graded. You consider heading home and using the extra time to make yourself look nice. Not that there was anything wrong with your oversized university t-shirt and jeans, but suddenly you think maybe things would be different for you with regards to your love life if you tried a little harder. You’re about to leave the library entrance that’s closest to your dorm, but you get a text from Jungkook.

6:41 - I called Yoori and she said she heard about my deal with RealiCorp and she wants to link up when she gets back on campus!

You narrow your eyes at the text. Jungkook had recently sold some software he developed to an up and coming gaming company that was supposed to make the imaging on immersion headsets better. He had made a pretty penny and was covertly offered a position at the company, but it was also a large victory for the computer science department at the university and his picture had been circulating around the department website for weeks. You suppose she finally saw it while she was taking a break from her research project off campus and decided to answer his calls for a change.

You text back what you hope sounds like a cheerful congratulation and decide to just go to the bar instead. What’s the harm in a few rounds before the rest of the crew arrives?

The harm would have been miniscule at most if you hadn’t been in your feelings, but when Jungkook, Tae, and Hobi arrive, you’re three rounds in and a little bit sloppy.

“Woah,” Hobi shouts, giving you a too strong pat on the back when he sits in the chair next to you. “Someone started a little early. What’s the occasion, are we celebrating something for you too?” Jungkook shakes his head with a sheepish smile and goes to sit beside you, away from Hoseok.

“Nope. Just getting ready for an evening with your loud ass.” He gives you a pretend pout and flags the bartender over. Tae sits next to him and gives you a little wave and smile.

“Two whiskeys, make mine a sour and make his straight. From the high shelf.”

“Hey now,” Taehyung’s eyes widen comically, “Are you forgetting that payday isn’t until next week? I’ll take the regular whiskey down there, please.”

“Don’t worry. Kookie said he was paying with his RealiCorp money,” Hoseok stage whispers into your ear, “He’ll probably cover your round too.”  You swat him away and turn to Jungkook, raising a questioning eyebrow.

“You know I’ll cover yours. The rest of them, I don’t know.”

“What? Come on, you’re the youngest,” Tae whines, less than satisfied with his cheap whiskey shot.

“Shouldn’t that mean you guys pay for me?”

“N-no! Because you’re actually our senior now. You’re graduating this year, I’m the oldest technically but I’m not graduating until next year. We know these two aren’t graduating until the year after that,” he points to you and Tae, “Plus, you’re going to the PhD program next year. You should definitely be paying for us.” Hoseok has a point, you and Tae nod sagely to back him up.

“Fine,” Jungkook sighs, pushing his thick glasses up the bridge of his nose, “I’m in a good mood, so why not.”

“I bet you are,” Tae’s grin is big and catlike in the low light of the bar. His gaze a little lewd. “I would be too if I was one step closer to finally bagging a girl like Yoori.”

You look down into your beer bottle, the green glass suddenly much more fascinating than the conversation at hand.

“Did you hear,”Hoseok turns toward you,”Yoori is gonna come back soon and when she does he’s gonna make her Mrs. Jeon.”

“I’ll be sure to throw rice during the wedding,” you snark. The bartender brings you a new beer without another word. Taehyung howls at your comment.

“I’d kill to have a wedding night with her.”

“Hell, I’d kill to have a bathroom stall night. With anyone,” Hoseok sighs, “It’s hard out here for a comp-sci major. Right, guys?”

You hum in agreement. It had been a while since you’d last gotten laid.

“You’re right. I can’t even remember that geology minor’s face. Do you remember her? What was her name? Mara? Kara?”

“Sara,” Hoseok provides with a grin, “I think she has a thing for comp-sci majors. Kook, you ever hook up with Sara?”

Jungkook shyly traces a finger around the rim of his empty vodka class. “I haven’t hooked up with anyone.”

“Ever?” You try to keep incredulity from bleeding into your question.

“Ever,” he nods. He hiccups a little and all of the sudden you totally believe that Jungkook is a virgin.

“Dude, wait, I thought you hooked up with that one chick at the music festival last spring. Am I the only one who saw her?” 

Tae nods in agreement. “Yeah, she gave you her hotel room key and everything.”

“It wasn’t like that. She told me her brother was there for a robotics tournament and I asked her if I could see the bot.”

You smile despite your sour mood. If there was one thing you loved about Jungkook it was his blind enthusiasm for STEM. Even if it made him a little oblivious to other things at times.

“Well, you better fix that whole virgin thing fast, bro. Chicks like Yoori probably want someone with experience. In more ways than one, if you catch my drift.” Hoseok nudges Tae with a wry smile.

“That’s not just a Yoori thing, most people don’t want to have to coddle someone in bed unless that’s, like, their kink or something,” you take a large swallow of beer.

“Wait,” Tae says, eyeing you like he’s had an epiphany, “You’re a girl--”

“Didn’t we establish this 2 years ago? When we met?”

“No, no, I mean you can help Kookie so he doesn’t drop the ball with Yoori.”

“Yeah, right,” you snort, “Help him how? Give him a sex-ed lecture?” You turn to laugh with Jungkook, but he’s looking at you seriously. Or as seriously as he can when he’s tipsy with unfocused eyes and blushing cheeks.

“You…don’t want to help me?” His voice sounds pathetic and small, making you feel bad instantly.

“Oh, Kook, it’s not that I don’t want to help you. But think about what that implies.”

“Is it because I’m a virgin?”

“Oh my god, Kook, there’s nothing wrong with being a virgin don’t listen to us. We’re idiots.”

“Then why don’t you want to help me?”

Because I like you. You swallow hard, your throat suddenly dry. You obviously don’t say that, though. Instead you sit back in your bar stool.

“I-I would if I could, but I don’t know how to help you,” you finally say.

“It’s fine. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I guess the thought of being with Yoori makes me a little stupid.”

Desperately you search for a solution. Instead of finding one, you call the bartender back and order a round of tequila shots. Jungkook gives you a sad look but doesn’t ruin the mood by not taking a shot. You order two more rounds because somehow, even though he’s drunk, he still looks dejected. After your third shot you can’t stand the way his shoulder slump.

“You know what,” you slur loudly, drawing three pairs of eyes to your face lazily. “It’s getting late and we might not get to play Fortnite this weekend. Let’s all get to bed so we can be up early tomorrow to play.”

Tae points a wobbly finger in your direction, eyes suspicious. “When you say early, you mean after 2pm right?”

It takes twenty minutes for everyone to get their shit together enough to leave the bar. Tae and Hoseok keep losing each other in the bathroom. Jungkook keeps forgetting that he has to pay and tries to ask the bartender what he thinks about sub-atomic particle physics. Even though you’re drunk off your ass, you somehow manage to keep yourself responsible enough to wrangle Tae and Hobi out of the bathroom and guide Jungkook through the motions of swiping his card and signing the bill. The four of you then squeeze into the back of an uber. Hoseok whines about being lonely while sitting in the passenger’s seat. Jungkook’s bumps his hand against yours until he can firmly grasp it and get your attention before you pass out.

“Hey, can I sleep on the couch,” he whispers in your ear. His breath smells like alcohol and limes. You turn your head to chase the scent away and rest your head on his shoulder. You yawn.

“Sure. No problem, buddy.”

Your apartment is the first stop on the route and you launch yourself out the car and run up through your lobby and to the elevator to escape the cold of the air conditioner and the fluorescent lights. Jungkook lingers in the car until Tae pushes him out to make room for Hoseok.

“Kook,” Tae calls out as he helps Hoseok pour himself into the back seat.

“Wassap?”

“The only way to get good at sex is losta—lotta...lot’s a practish. Okay?”

“But-but…Who am I gonna practice with?”

Tae merely whistles and points a finger upward, gesturing to your illuminated window. The car pulls away and Jungkook sways unsteadily up onto the sidewalk with nausea clawing at his throat. Thinking of the stairs he’ll have to climb—because there’s no way in hell he’s taking the elevator, even in this state—he regrets not just going to his own first floor dorm. Does he really need to get sex counseling from you? There’s always porn, he muses before remembering the rant you’d gone on blaming porn for making a guy you’d been hooking up with try to do weird things in bed involving a summer squash. Looks like he’d have to rely on the real deal to get anywhere with Yoori. Oh, Yoori.

A shimmering vision of the beautiful girl with elegant eyes and an ever-painted smile floats in front of his hazy vision and gives him the strength he needs to hobble forward towards the lobby door with dedication.

Minutes ago you couldn’t wait to go to sleep, but as soon you unlocked your door and made it to your room, you were wide awake. Even brushing your teeth and stripping out of your jeans didn’t to tire you out.

“Fuck,” you groan. You throw yourself onto your bed and hope that the way the room spins will lull you to sleep but when the spinning stops, your eyes still won’t stay closed.

The clock resting on your desk across the room reads 1:48am. It’s already clear that you’re going to be hung over, but knowing that it won’t be cushioned by a nice long sleep before you have to go to yoga at 12 makes you want to cry. You desperately wrack your brain for all the remedies there are to make you sleepy. You just canceled your cable last week to save some money, so you can’t veg out in front of the TV. You’re lactose intolerant, so warm milk isn’t an option. You’d take a warm shower but you washed your hair already and if you go to bed with wet hair your mother’s voice will haunt you all night with stories of the cold coming your way. Kicking your feet in frustration, you toss yourself over the edge of the bed to hang. Maybe all the blood will flow to your head and you’ll pass out.

You’re about to risk passing out and landing on your neck the wrong way and dying when a bright pink shoebox under your bed catches your eye. Of course, you think, how could you forget your precious vibrator. Luckily for you, a good orgasm or three always managed to knock you out like a light. You reach over and scoot the box forward with your outstretched fingertips until you get it close enough to reach inside and grab the petite tiffany blue bullet. Giddy laughter leaves your mouth as you heft yourself back onto your bed and fall back on the pillows with a contented sigh. Orgasms solve all your problems. You flick the device on to the lowest setting and ghost it against your clothed mound.

Jungkook is completely breathless as he leaves the center stairwell and finally arrives on your floor. The stairs were a bitch and a half, but your door is only two down from the floor entrance. He can practically hear the siren song of your pull-out couch. When he turns the knob to your front door, it doesn’t budge and he wonders if you must have locked it on instinct. There’s no way you forgot that he was staying over, he thinks to himself. Reaching above the doorjamb, he hunts for the spare key you left there especially for him. The door unlocks easily and he smiles to himself as he locks the door behind him and toes off his shoes. He’s about to face plant into the couch when you call his name faintly from your bedroom.

As he stumbles through the hallway slowly to your room, he thinks over what Taehyung said to him before driving off. To Jungkook’s drunk mind it makes sense, so it must be a good idea to seek sex practice from you. You’re the only girl he knows and he’s known you so long that he can already tell there would be no awkwardness. The sad look in your eyes as you listened to his predicament in the bar tells him that you want to help him, but you didn’t know what route to take. He flexes his hands by his sides and figures he’ll just tell you what Taehyung told him and get to coming up with a curriculum.

The door to your bedroom is half-open and the lights shine through the opening, so he figures you must be up and waiting for him. He can still hear you calling his name, but it still sounds oddly soft from where he is. He pushes the door open but freezes in his tracks when he sees you.

The first thing he notices is obviously the frantically moving hand you have between your legs and the loud buzzing sound that comes from it. He takes in more details the longer he looks. He realizes belatedly then that you’re not wearing pants. Thanks to the high prescription strength of his glasses, he can also see the way your hand and thighs shine and the huge dark spot in the crotch of your panties in the light of your table lamp. Your toes are curling and he can just make out the way your lower stomach clenches underneath the very same sweatshirt you’d been wearing to the bar. Technically he can’t see your other hand but he has a pretty good idea of where it is and what it might be doing with the way it disappears under your shirt. You can’t see him, though, because your head is thrown back and your eyes are closed. The only thing you’re probably at least partly aware of is the cacophony of wet sounds that come from where you work the nose of the toy over yourself. The last thing he notices is the way you call his name in a soft whining tone that has him stepping forward without thinking.

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you whine as the slippery heel of your hand bumps against your covered clit a little roughly on an upstroke.

“Yes?”

“What the hell,” your eyes snap open and your head whips around to see him leaning on the door frame as he watches you.

His eyes are heavy with alcohol and his cheeks are just as pink as the lip he releases from the grasp of his teeth. He reaches out and stumbles forward, causing you to scramble back to distance yourself from him. You bring your knees up to hug to your chest before you realize that you’re still very much on show.

“Jeon Jungkook, what is going on here,” you shriek, bringing your hands to cover your eyes only makes you feel a little bit better.

He sits down on your bed like it’s any other day and he’s just chilling in the room like you invited him over. And then you realize that you did kind of invite him over as fragmented memories of the recent uber ride you took together spring up.

“You said you wanted to help me, but you didn’t know how. But Tae told me I just have to practish.”

“Practish?”

“Practice,” he corrects himself.

“Practice what?”

“Practice sex. Duh!”

“Jungkook, no!”

“Please? I wouldn’t be asking such a huge favor if I didn’t think it was absolutely necessary.”

“Why can’t you just go to a frat party like everyone else?” 

Your heart is beating rapidly and you think maybe you’re not drunk anymore. Never in your life did you think you would turn down sex from Jungkook, but then again you never pictured it happening this way.

“Because I,” his head hangs and he starts to pick at a loose thread in your duvet, “I guess I missed out on this kind of thing when we were younger and I don’t think I could get very good results in a basement party. Plus, I know you’d…”

“I’d what?”

“You’d be good to me.” He lifts his eyes to lock with yours. His gaze is oddly sharp despite the fact that his skin is still clammy like it gets when he drinks.

Your breath hitches and for a moment it does feel like the fantasies you have almost every other time that you settle into your room, lonely and horny. Jungkook laughs bitterly to himself and you can feel your resolve crumbling as something selfish rears its head in the back of your mind. He tries one last time. 

“Please?” 

You crack.

“Okay.”

“Really?” His eyes light up once more as he gives you a blinding smile. “Great. Let’s start!”

It feels as though you’re having an out of body experience as you watch him clamber closer onto the bed with you. Your legs naturally open to accommodate him and he scoots into your space, his hands falling to naturally stroke with the soft skin of your ankles. Even though he lacks experience, Jungkook has a leg up in that he’s naturally on the affectionate side. Something you can’t teach with any amount of practice. Even still, the idea that Jungkook will be sitting between your naked thighs makes your stomach do flip flops.You barely start formulating something to say that will sound educational when you hear him get ready to interject once more.

“God, what is it?” You worry that if he interrupts you one more time you’ll lose your nerve.

“I need a visual aid. And, uh, I won’t be able to see because of your, uh, undergarments.”

You’re certain that you’ve never taken anything off faster than you do in that moment. The panties fly into some far corner of your room and you can only hope that they don’t land in a clump of dust bunnies.

“Alright,” you stutter, “I don’t have to give you an anatomy lesson, right? Please tell me you at least know where everything is.”

“We took anatomy together in 7th grade,” he says like that’s a decent answer.

You roll your eyes. “Right, okay. Anatomy lesson it is.”

“What’s this,” you point at yourself.

“That’s the uh…entrance to the vagina?”

“Ok and?”

“It’s where the pleasure comes from?”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes?”

“Partial credit.”

“Isn’t that where the…phallus goes, though?” You decide it would be best to ignore his word choice for now.

“Yeah, I mean stuff goes in there but that’s not where all the pleasure comes from. For some people that’s not where any of it comes from.”

His eyes widen nervously. “Then where does it come from if not from penetration?”

You gesture again. “This is the clitoris.” His sweaty bangs flop over his lenses as he nods enthusiastically. Finally something he remembers.

“The clitoris,” he chirps affirmatively. You side eye him, but keep going.

“This little thing is basically there for the sole purpose of pleasure.”

“How do I activate it?” Again you blink at his terminology. Although you’d been a STEM freak with Jungkook for years, somehow he managed to baffle you with his nerdiness.

“Uh, you can stimulate it by touching it.” You draw a small circle in the air around the nub to demonstrate. “Like that, for example. You can also use your hands or your mouth.”

“Or that little blue thing you were using earlier,” he chimes in, reminding you of the embarrassing way this whole thing started.

You sigh. “Yeah. That too.”

“And that’s it?”

“No that’s definitely not it. We haven’t even touched the other places of pleasure or technique or foreplay. But this is a pretty good cheat code.”

“So what about the inside? Like the tubes?”

“There’s really not that much you need to know involving the actual reproductive organs themselves. We can just focus on the external bits for now.” You wince at how uncomfortable the discussion is.

“That makes sense,” his brows furrow seriously. He’s slow to blink, partly so he doesn’t miss anything and partly because he’s still fighting off tendrils of sleep.

“I mean,” you wring your hands anxiously, “that’s all you really need to know for now. It’s mostly learning on the go, anyway. You’ll be fine.”

“But what if I’m not fine. Don’t you think you could, you know, show me?”

“What is there to show?”

“How about you just continue…what you were doing when I came in.”

“Masturbating.”

“What?”

“I was masturbating when you came in.”

A hand flies to the collar of his shirt and he tugs on it sheepishly. “Yeah, that’s what I meant.”

You try not to focus on how weirdly awkward the mood is now that your lust has calmed down to barely even a simmer. You reach for the discarded vibrator that jumped out of your hand and landed by the edge of the head of your bed, but he stops you with a raised hand.

“Can you, uh, maybe do it the old-fashioned way? For the first time at least?”

“Right, I guess I’ll get to it.”

Jungkook sits back on his heels patiently and watches closely as your hand trails a path down your torso to the apex of your thighs. The first touch, though you know it’s your own hand, has you twitching a bit. You bite your lip hard to focus and circle your entrance to coax out more moisture, then you move back to circle your clit. You close your eyes in hopes that not being able to see Jungkook’s gaping expression will help. It does, a bit. After a few moments, you let out a breathy sigh and sink further into the pillows. You plant one foot more firmly on the mattress to give yourself some leverage and push yourself more into your circling hand. The slight increase in pressure has you moaning and your eyes fluttering. You peek through heavy lids to see Jungkook’s expression has also changed. His eyes, clear just a second ago, look glassy again from behind his lenses, his mouth slack and shiny. The rise and fall of his chest is a bit heavier. You let yourself think it’s because of you and go back to collect more arousal to increase the slip.

Apparently, you’re more turned on than you thought. When your middle and ring fingers wander down to your hole they come back pleasantly slick. Something in you suddenly feels rebellious, so you use your free hand to spread your lips further and bring your coated fingers up to Jungkook’s face. You flex your fingers and separate them to show crystalline streaks of arousal connecting them.

“Just so you know, this is a good sign.”

Jungkook swallows hard. Somehow, even though you’re still wearing socks and a baggy sweatshirt, you’re hotter than all the completely bare, busty women he’d watched moan and writhe wildly on his computer screen. He reaches out and delicately grabs you wrist before redirecting your hand back to your dripping center.

“Keep going,” he rasps.

You whine and begin to rub your clit more earnestly, lewd wet sounds fill the room. He can practically see your lips getting wetter and wetter as you redistribute your arousal with every rough swipe of your fingers. Your wrist is moving fast, but it’s clear that you’re becoming frustrated with all that you can do with one hand. Your other hand quickly moves to take over making tight figure eights around your clit while the one already coated in your juices moves back down to your entrance once more. This time, you crook two shining fingers and shove them into your hole. Immediately your back bends and a drawn out moan leaves your mouth. Jungkook gasps quietly. You pump your fingers in and out roughly, then withdraw them to add a third finger.

He watches you like that for a while before you get fed up again. It’s been a while since you’ve been so needy and you feel like you’re on fire. Your toes curl impatiently on either side of Jungkook and he realizes you’re looking for more. On instinct he scoots further until his own legs are brushing up against the undersides of yours. His hand reaches out to pet your quivering thigh in a sympathetic effort to help with your plateau. He looks down at your hand, twitching feverishly in and out of yourself. His hands are much bigger and suddenly he moves like he’s about to replace your fingers with his own.

When Jungkook’s hands start to approach your center your breath hitches. You’re not quite in the right state of mind to reject him if he offers to finger you, but you don’t want to take advantage of the situation and make it any more emotionally complicated than it already is.

“Not yet,” you offer when his hands get too close for comfort, “Next time, maybe.”

He seems to be thinking the same thing and averts his attention to the forgotten vibrator. His grip on your thigh disappears, and you sigh quietly, but it’s hidden under the slick sounds you make each time your fingers get sucked into your heat and the low moans you make every time your pinch your clit just so.

“W-what do I do?” His voice is small and his sudden worried look has you wrapping a hand around his and bringing it to show him how you click the toy on and circle it around your entrance.

His hands are sweaty, shaky, so when your hips start to circle on their own, they move to find a resting spot on your thighs and squeeze to deal with the tension rising in his own belly. He grits his teeth, clenches his hands, does anything he can to keep from overstepping and making this about him. As obviously cliché as it sounds, seeing you sweating and moaning underneath him lets him see you in a new light. You’d always been around, but your presence as a woman in his life was backgrounded at best. Now, with Yoori momentarily not clouding his mind, he wants nothing more than to ravage you. He’s almost certain that if he tried, his lack of experience wouldn’t matter too much. He’s sure his body would be able to act on baser instinct and give you the what you wanted. If you wanted.

Your moans change in pitch and soon he’s aware that this will be the first time he’ll have been privy to someone else’s orgasm in real life. His dick is painfully hard and straining against the jeans he’s wearing. But he forgets the discomfort fast as he watches you grind yourself down against the toy in a way that is absolutely filthy. Your bottom lip, shiny and reddened, is pulled taut between your teeth in ecstasy. Your eyes flutter open and lock with his own. You focus and notice his blown-out pupils look huge within the depths of deep brown irises. There’s no denying he’s turned on once you flick your gaze down to his crotch and see the large tent in his pants.

“I—I think I’m gonna…Oh!” Your leg kicks out on its own like some electric current runs through you. Your voice breaks as the waves of your approaching high begin to take over you. One of his hands inches upwards a bit and strokes the tense muscle near your groin softly, at a loss for words. “Oh god, Jungkook, you—” keening, your eyes roll into the back of your head.

One of your hands reaches up to squeeze at his bicep as he’s leaning over you. He wonders in the back of his mind when he got so close to you. Your leg hooks around him like it has a mind of it’s own and tugs him down, forcing him to topple over you. That’s the last straw and you sob from the intense pleasure. Meanwhile your warmth and proximity and your words prove to be a deadly combination and within seconds he’s spilling over himself in his boxers, untouched. He lets out a low groan that puffs against the side of your neck.

You both sit there and breathe for a long while, catching your breath and coming back down to earth. He sits up eventually and pulls away from you, leaving you cold. Your legs flop from around him heavily. You’re a bit irritated when you realize you won’t be able to walk normally for a while. He discretely wipes his hands off on your duvet while you wipe at the sweat soaking your hairline.

“That’s it, that’s the show,” you finally say.

He shoots up and looks at you anxiously. It’s cute. “You mean until next time, right?”

His eyes are wide and imploring as he hovers over by you. He looks a bit like a turtle from this angle. A cute one, though. One that you want to play with again next week. You nod even though he might have all that he needs to do well with Yoori, being the fast learner that he is.

“I guess so. Same time, next week. Do some research for next time maybe. Make sure it’s from something not involving the medical library.”

“Got it!” He turns and waits until you’re not looking to adjust his pants.

You notice his hair is sticking to his forehead when he finally stands up. And there’s a cowlick sticking up in the back that reminds you of middle school Jungkook, before he met Yoori. The idea of the other girl, the girl he’s really in love with, dims your post-coital glow. Although, you suppose you have her to thank for this evening’s events. How else could you have ever managed a one-sided romp in the sheets with your long-time crush?

Both of you take turns using the bathroom to clean up. While he hums in time with washing up, you slip panties on and debate about whether or not to throw your sweats back on. You decide that if you’re going to play this off like it hasn’t changed your relationship, you should put pants back on.He comes out looking pink and clean and you want to pull him back into your bed and wrap yourself around him. 

To protect his glasses from the dangers of the bathroom, he left them in your room. Squinting, he walks with hands out to collect them. When he puts them on he doesn’t look at you and instead pulls his phone out of his pocket and swipes around while leaving the room.

“Heading out,” you ask with a quasi-disinterested tone.

“Yeah, I remembered I have to run the Saturday tutoring session this week. So I might as well go home so I can get ready for that. You should come, you know. Your test scores dropped 2 points this week.” Typical Jungkook. He couldn’t ever fully leave TA mode.

You roll your eyes. “Thanks for the reminder, but that’s still an A.”

“Maybe we can try this again next week the same time?”

“Yeah, uh, okay.”

“Cool, I’ll put it on my calendar.” He lifts his phone to his face to tell the digital assistant to pencil you in for next week. You try not to grimace at becoming a date in his calendar app.

“Get out already, you nerd.” You push him out after he puts his coat back on, but you do watch out the window to make sure his taxi comes.

[littlemsstark3000]

Common

Pairing: Tony Stark x Natasha Romanoff

Summary: Natasha went on a 21-day mission in Turkey one year after she got married to Tony, leaving him and Peter behind.

*****

Peter was lying on his bed for more than two hours but he still could not sleep. He was done watching his mom and dad's favorite series on his own Stark pad before jumping to bed and even shut his eyes for an hour, but he was barely sleepy.

He decided to get up and walk to the elevator that could bring him to the rooftop. It has been a while since the last time he went up there. Before - those days when he was still adjusting to his new life in the tower as SHIELD consultant-slash-Stark Industries owner's adopted son - he used to go up there to think, as he watched the busy New York City.

But after Tony Stark married Natasha Romanoff, the very own Black Widow of SHIELD, the two treated him very much as their own child. There was never a day that the couple left him out. They showered him with so much love and devoted their time to attend to his every need, that he did not have a moment to be lonely anymore.

Until this night.

Before he reached the lobby of the elevator though, Peter passed by the tower's bar and caught Tony sitting there alone, head down. In his hand was a glass, and he noticed, despite the dimly lit spot of his father, the bottle of vodka which was almost halfway finished already.

Tony looked up almost the same time that he called his attention.

"Dad?"

The genius billionaire put down the shot glass and wiped his face with bare hands. "Hey son. Why are you still up?"

Peter stepped closer to the counter.

"Why are you still up and here, too?" he asked as reply.

"Uh, nah," Tony shrugged and glanced at the vodka. "Just getting a fill."

"Can't sleep?" He opted to ask even if it was too obvious.

His dad shook his head.

"You miss Mom." It was more of a statement than a question.

He received a nod.

"I miss her, too."

Yeah, Peter admitted to himself, it was why their huge house felt empty to him and why he wanted to go up the rooftop instead of staying in his room. Natasha was not around to check up on him in his room at 9:00 pm like what she always did, and she wouldn't be there to wake him up the next day, too.

Tony sighed and took one more shot from his glass before his expression turned from sad to grim.

"She won't be home until after 21 more days."

It was a giveaway for Peter. And he had to speak out what has been bugging him for days.

"I know that you and Mom weren't talking before she left..."

He caught him freeze for microseconds before responding.

"We did, over our last dinner together. About your graduation right?"

"You were just trying to because I was there. I'm not a kid anymore..." Peter pushed further. "What's happening?"

Avoiding his eyes, Tony stood from the bar stool and approached him. "Everything's going to be fine, Pete. It's... just a phase," he answered vaguely then tapped his shoulder instead of explaining.

"You will fix it once she's back, right?"

"Of course. Don't think too much about it." His dad kissed his hair from the side. "Go to bed. Good night, son."

Peter just nodded and turned to watch a-little-drunk Tony walked back to the hallway that led to the bedrooms.

"Good night, Dad."

*****

"Hello?"

Natasha sensed anticipation from Peter's voice when he spoke from the other line after the ringing stopped. It seemed like he had been waiting for her call, so the moment that his mobile line rang, he picked it up immediately.

"Hey sweetheart," she replied briefly, knowing that he would recognize her despite the unknown number.

"Mom! I knew it, you'd call! How are you? Is everything okay?"

Peter was a combination of excitement and worry. Her eyes automatically watered.

Natasha never thought that she would reach a point like this... Working at SHIELD had been her life for more than a decade and she believed that she could die a SHIELD agent. Being abroad for missions was a norm for her. Going on dangerous assignments was never an issue. Every time she went away to take down bases with her team, the thought that she would not be able to go back alive to her home - if she could call the SHIELD helicarrier as such - was welcome.

But not this time around.

Three days into this 21-day assignment in Turkey, her first long and out-of-the-country task after she got married to Tony a year ago, she already felt that things weren't the same anymore. She still is the Black Widow, her skills for her job and the want to do good for people always in her. The thing is... she’s also Natasha Romanoff-Stark now. Wife and mother. Tony and Peter are her home now and she is deeply, passionately invested in her small family. She never imagined that the love she has for them is humanly possible.

Her chest tightened at the thought of his son and husband being so far away. Though, she needed to be strong for them and for her duty at hand.

"I'm fine. How's everything there? Your dad?"

"We're okay mom, I just miss you so much. Dad misses you, too... I caught him at the bar late last night."

Anxiety clouded her head. Tony has not been drinking for the past months. But what Peter just said...

"I miss him too, baby. Both of you. I miss you everyday," she kept her voice from breaking.

"Will you call him, too?"

In an instant, her husband filled her mind. How he did not stop her from taking this mission, though she felt that he was not happy about it. How he was zoning out during the last few days before she left the tower. He never suggested about re-considering this assignment nor did he request to cut it short. She probably would not have yielded anyway; she wanted to do the mission. But being in this situation now, she could only hope that she listened to what her husband had to say.

"I might -"

"Nat, let's go."

Before Natasha could finish what she was about to say, she was cut by Clint who stood a few steps away from her but has been monitoring her call. She could not make a call as often and as long as she wanted for security purposes, so she has to limit it and remain untraceable.

Peter heard him from the other line.

"Mom..."

Her heart broke once again. Unlike the previous night when she was able to keep herself from crying so Clint would not be alarmed of her internal struggle, the following nights might be less bearable. Although, she knew her best friend understood. It was actually him who arranged this call to Peter even without her asking.

"I gotta go, Pete. I'll call you again when I can, okay? Please look after your Dad for me," her lips trembled and she had to bite it.

"Yes, Mom. You take care. I love you."

"I will, sweetheart. Love you two so much. I'm going home soon."

As soon as she ended the call, her tears fell. She wiped them as she crushed the phone to the ground then walked past Clint, saying her thanks discreetly.

The Black Widow mask was back on.

*****

Tony has stopped working but he hasn't realized it yet. He was just looking at various holograms which he opened to, supposedly, study. But his mind just wandered off to Natasha, like how it had been for the past 20 days.

A month ago, Nick Fury asked him to look into the case of possible new HYDRA base in Turkey and he did. He provided all the information he gathered and proposed on how they could go about it.

The base would need a closer surveillance for a few days to see the routine around the area, ins and outs, as well as to check on the technology that they can use to infiltrate their systems - basically, things SHIELD cannot perform from afar due to restrictions.

To his great dismay, their best option was to send Natasha and Clint to do the job. Both were very well-versed in what to do, strategies and technical skills combined. They were highly reliable even if they worked remotely; they problem solve on their own, no need for supervision.

And when Fury asked if Natasha could take the mission, Tony was not surprised that she did almost immediately. Almost, because she looked at him while they were inside the director's office as if asking for permission... But how could he say no?

One: Having seen the available details about this base himself, he knew how delicate the job would be. They could not send just anyone who could afford to go. It required specially skillful, experienced agents... Unfortunately for him, his wife is on top of that list.

Two: When he married Natasha, he accepted the fact that she would not stop doing what she had been doing for more than half of her life. She rested, yes, but would never stop. Being a SHIELD agent was her good cause. She did what she does best here. She found her purpose here. More than anyone else, he as her former teammate and co-Avenger should understand that.

Three: If she declined this mission, it should be her decision because she has always been more than capable of thinking and deciding on her own. It would not be him dictating stuff to her or directing her actions. She is his wife, his better half. He swore to himself that he would respect her and value her more than his ego, which he has taken care of for a good portion of his childhood to adulthood.

And so he... did not affirm but did not disagree either.

Natasha took the job. He was left behind to wait. As a SHIELD consultant, he could not meddle with operations. While he can give and get information, he could not get in the front line. He stayed out, as he always has in other missions which did not involve his wife.

Fury was kind enough to let him know from time to time that Natasha and Clint were still in their radar, but they still cannot reach the two anytime they want for their security.

Tony's thoughts were interrupted when FRIDAY spoke.

"Boss, Natasha is in the vicinity. She is taking the private elevator from the helipad to the 90th floor."

He immediately stood up from his swivel chair and headed out of the workshop which was five floors below their three-floor penthouse, where Natasha was going.

"Where is Peter?"

"He just arrived from the University and is at the 90th floor too, boss."

In a few seconds, he was already on the same floor. He heard Natasha's and Peter's voices from where he stopped and stood out of the lift, and he gave them a little time alone.

"Mom!"

"Hi, baby."

"What happened? What's this?"

"Don't worry, it's nothing serious. Just bruise and scratches," his wife chuckled.

She's hurt, his jaw automatically clenched.

"FRIDAY, can you please tell Dad that Mom is back?"

"I already have, Peter."

"Are you sure you're okay?" worry was still evident in Peter's tone, and Tony was feeling the same.

"Nothing that I cannot handle. And you're gonna take care of me, yeah?"

"Of course, yeah... I missed you so much."

"Missed you too, sweetie."

He stepped out of his hiding and saw Peter hugging his mom tightly as they sat on the couch.

Natasha's left arm was in arm sling. There was a patch on one side of her forehead.

She saw him approaching first, and the young man must have felt it then turned his head.

"Dad," he voiced.

Tony smiled a little and nodded.

"Pete, can you get your mom water and make her a sandwich, please? She's probably tired and starving."

"I am," his wife confirmed.

"Alright."

Natasha kissed their son’s hair before he headed to the kitchen.

Tony fell on one knee in front of her and rested his hands on both her sides as she still sat on the couch.

"Hi."

"How was it?" He asked about the mission.

"Done."

He nodded. "Good."

"Is this time for small talk?"

"Guess we have to reserve the longer discussion until tonight. Peter will be back with your sandwich in a bit."

"How much time do we have?" she ran her free hand from his messy hair to face, touching his cheek with her thumb repeatedly.

"One minute tops."

"Can I kiss you for one minute then?"

"You can, but just to set your expectations, that's never gonna be enough after 21 days of absence," he teased.

Natasha raised an eyebrow as if asking what else?

"That's another thing we'll reserve for tonight."

Natasha broke into her familiar laughter, but her eyes suddenly were filled with tears.

And Tony's were, too.

His wife is definitely home.

*****

"I wanna feel your love

Just give me all your trust

Common ain't us

Cause common ain't enough..."

- Common, Zayn Malik

[yoolee]

If lee wrote otome | #2 - Boss

The Heroine (MC)

CEO MC: Never gets enough sleep, which makes her sarcastic but is also semi her own fault given the amount of caffeine she consumes. Sort of obsessive about long-term planning, unwaveringly believes that a company’s value comes from its employees and will choose them over shareholder dividends every time. Determined to run an ethical company even if it means it’s not the most profitable company. Super duper Type A – aggressive and fearless because she has to be. Sometimes really just wants a cupcake in her hand and a cat in her lap, but then she’s bored and goes back to business planning. Creative risk-taker, decent negotiator. Smart enough to know where she needs help and hire people who can do the things she can’t (or, more to the point, doesn’t want to do). Gets back up every time. Will definitely fight you. Might feel bad about it later but only if someone reminds her it happened.

Love Interests

The BARISTA: Peppy, optimist (or so MC thinks) but it turns out they actually switch up their personality depending on who they’re serving (sometimes they are the chill, hipster philosopher, sometimes they are the rude New York get-it-done eye roller, etc.) actually somewhere in the middle of it all – but really IS an optimist despite themselves. Kind of slippery and hard to pin down. Big family, used to being what their other siblings/parents need from them. Fairly certain CEO MC is headed for an early heart attack with the amount of espresso she imbibes. Probably an author. Maybe an ex-broadway personjust because. IDK.

The PR LAWYER: Worked-three-jobs-put-self-through-college story. Patience, tact, good at calming people down. Detail oriented, a little fussy about appearances. Perennially exasperated by CEO (Please don’t promise to have a cure for cancer In the next three years with no data to back it up. No, you can’t punch the reporter for being a dick. Look, I know you WANT to donate 100% of proceeds to charity but please pick a friendlier one than ‘punch reporters in the face foundation’ that’s not gonna fly) never gets enough sleep. Has a key to MC’s house so they can come yell at her for making their life difficult at whatever hour of the night she insists on doing so. Is on MC’s speed-dial, which means they also get called to DD, though they’d rather not.

FLAKY MODEL(s?): Trust fund kid? Pretty face? Floats through life? The sort of person who will get on the wrong subway train and then just ride it all day people-watching never mind that they had an appointment six hours ago. Pose with a boa constrictor? Sure, as long as it’s being treated humanely. Tarantula on the face? Awwww, it’s fuzzyyyyy. No filter, no worries. Probably drags CEO MC along on a Caribbean shoot and PR Lawyer has to call and yell because that does not look good, okay? And poor MC is like, I thought we were getting a drink and model is like WE ARE we are getting tropical coconut water from the SOURCE here oh wait I don’t know how to drink out of a coconut…who knows why they are attracted to CEO MC, probably because she’s there and sticks around and no one else does. Human puppy dog.

CHAIRMAN OF THE BOARD: young hotshot venture capitalist, thinks CEO MC is a bleeding heart (your employees do not need that many sick days, lost productivity blah blah blah why do we need a daycare onsite that’s a waste of shareholder money), kind of a math whiz, naturally lucky, doesn’t get along with family (gambling problem in the fam – which manifests in him in investment risks and unresolved issues) butts heads constantly with MC, frequently tries to get her fired – in part because his attempts to do so get her fired up and she does great things, which ultimately is better for the company than when she’s just doing her normal ‘good’ job. She is going to be royally ticked when she figures that out. Manipulative, but relatively benign under it all. The sort of person who smirks instead of smiles. All the time.

CHEF FROM HER FAVORITE RESTAURANT: Also a CEO though on smaller scale, because, running a restaurant IS running a business. Probably under the impression CEO MC is actually like, a graduate student with no money because she tends to get takeout at weird hours. Gruff, grumpy, abrupt, but heart of gold. Basically—will grumble about you coming in late but will add extra veggies to your pasta because you’re looking a little pale and need the nutrients and if you call them on it will snarl that they had to be used up they were going bad and he wasn’t going to waste extra, expensive, PROTEIN on you. (MC asks them out and then realizes the only nice restaurant she knows is the one the chef owns)

PRESCHOOL TEACHER: JUST A DECENTLY NICE PERSON. Checks in to make sure MC has eaten regularly, staying hydrated, needs anything fixed around the house (she can do her own plumbing but doesn’t like the electrical and hey it’s nice to have company). Good with kids. Maybe divorced and wanted them but ex-spouse didn’t? idk. Calm, not easily ruffled, sweet as pie, except when he’s playing video games and suddenly MC understands how he can get through the day without any aggression – he unleashes it on fictional zombies. Blissfully normal, all things considered.

PERSONAL TRAINER: “fine, whatever, EAT THE DANG CHEESE if you’re just going to ignore my nutritional advice we’re doing ten more reps” athletic, happiest when DOING versus saying or reading or sitting. Not as impulsive as you’d guess at first glance, because they tend to use working out as a meditative time to make decisions. Didn’t finish college because they realized they just didn’t enjoy it, but they did enjoy working with student athletes, which is how they got into training. Enviably fit. Wants to expand the gym so wheedles business advice out of MC in exchange for not harassing her about her tendency to drink coffee instead of water (she insists it has water IN it, it should count) not particularly intimidated by her, which is a pleasant change of pace.

Supporting Cast (non LIs)

ADMINISTRATIVE ASSISTANT: Keeps MC sane, has her back, schedules everything. Good at details, even better at smiling at angry people and making them not-angry through sheer force of sunny personality (actually a ruse, MC is convinced she’s actually the most delightfully evil person ever, but like some kind of fairy tale where when you acknowledge the thing it goes away, refuses to ever dive into figuring out). Older than the MC because we need to stop making middle aged women invisible in stories?? Sometimes has to remind MC of how much she does by holding silent protests (in part why MC thinks she is secretly a supervillain in the making) which are always, always successful.

PARENT COMPANY ADMIN ASSISTANT: Bane of MC’s existence. Smarmy, smily pain in the tush.

CFO: We have put in an official request with the company credit card management to start declining purchases at that coffee shop you go to, no this is not negotiable, it’s not in the budget anymore drink so darn water woman. Completely willing to go toe-to-toe with MC, meetings often involve a lot of yelling, but they’re always productive and no hard feelings.

CIO: Serpent-y, but not in a bad way. Just a very cool-tempered person, very contained, very guarded, very introverted. Never happy when she has to do presentations, so super willing to share knowledge with MC so she does it instead (she is not a great teacher, kind of judgey and shows her frustration when MC doesn’t ‘get’ it right away, but very brilliant, and there’s no malice in the judgement, just no filter). Extremely logic-oriented and process-oriented over people-oriented. Picks up and assess tech very quickly, and good at finding affordable, fast solutions.

RANDOM MARKETING EMPLOYEE:  Set up to be a villain but is actually like gung-ho on MC’s side. Literally an ex pageant queen, went to college on scholarship from it. Out of the workforce for awhile as a stay at home mom when her kids were young, but picks up the new trends fast. Now a single mother, so will literally fight the chairman if he tries to take away the company daycare. Some days uses the ‘people see a pretty face and assume no brain’ to her advantage, some days it wears her out. Unofficially drinking buddy with MC, even though they both feel weird about it given the fact MC is technically boss’s boss’s boss.

BARTENDER: also an ex-girlfriend maybe? Current best friend? Who she turns to when the barista cuts her off from coffee and the chef’s restaurant is already closed. Sharp-tongued, bristly, generally disgusted with MC’s six inch heels and slacks in her leather-jacket, cigar smoke bar. Like lady, you’re lost. Probably on the mob payroll at some point in her life.

ROUTE PLOTS:

(Chairman route?) MERGER – company has just bought another company, which is a major risk move for CEO (can only be one, so do you keep the old one on as a VP? Do you let them go? Will they be bitter/try to sabotage you?) you have to fend off internal sabotage, get everything running smoothly without either company falling apart in the process.  

(PR Lawyer route?) Parent company did something massively shady and it’s tainting your company’s name too, so you have to scrounge to avoid having to fire half your employees and keep the company alive.

(Model route?) New product launch – hence why models are entering the picture. It’s a new business venture in the sense it’s targeted at a completely new audience your company hasn’t catered to before.

(Personal Trainer route?) Company is in its infancy, hugely risky time, and you’re doing everything you can to ensure it’s a success  (maybe including putting your own salary back into it, which means you can’t afford PT so they agree to work with you as long as you give them business advice)

FROM @han-pan- they keep trying to buy new retail space for the gym and MC keeps buying it instead because it’s SUCH GOOD PROPERTY and they sort of exasperatedly are like ugh fine whatever you owe me since you keep swiping prime spots out from under my nose

See the rest here

[ifleewroteotome]

#4 - Boss!

Context: Sarcastic, ambitious, slightly aggressive, creative and caffeine-addicted CEO manages her business and falls in love, featuring:

Heroine: Risk-taker, smart enough to hire people to do the things she can’t (or doesn’t want to do), gets sh-- done and done well. Drinks too much coffee and does not know what work-life-balance is.

Barista: Peppy, optimistic, concerned for CEO’s general health and well-being. Chameleon.

PR Lawyer: Not paid nearly enough. Perennially exasperated. All to often CEO’s DD. Responsible.

Chairman of the board: hotshot venture capitalist with an attitude. Super alike to CEO which is why they bang heads a lot. Never smiles--just smirks. A lot.

Flaky model: Hired to promote new product, floating breezily through life like the blessed flower child they are. 

Chef: Grump with a heart of gold, has CEO’s takeout order ready (with extra veggies because girl, vitamins)

Preschool teacher neighbor: Actual hufflepuff, single parent, has the work-life balance stuff figured out.

Personal trainer: Doer of things. Does not judge. 

Supporting cast!: Possibly-evil-but-also-awesome administrative assistant, smarmy parent company vultures, cool-tempered CIO, quick-tempered CFO, ex-beauty pageant marketing employee/ally, ex-girlfriend bartender

The Heroine (MC)

CEO MC: Never gets enough sleep, which makes her sarcastic but is also semi her own fault given the amount of caffeine she consumes. Sort of obsessive about long-term planning, unwaveringly believes that a company’s value comes from its employees and will choose them over shareholder dividends every time. Determined to run an ethical company even if it means it’s not the most profitable company. Super duper Type A – aggressive and fearless because she has to be. Sometimes really just wants a cupcake in her hand and a cat in her lap, but then she’s bored and goes back to business planning. Creative risk-taker, decent negotiator. Smart enough to know where she needs help and hire people who can do the things she can’t (or, more to the point, doesn’t want to do). Gets back up every time. Will definitely fight you. Might feel bad about it later but only if someone reminds her it happened.

Love Interests

The BARISTA: Peppy, optimist (or so MC thinks) but it turns out they actually switch up their personality depending on who they’re serving (sometimes they are the chill, hipster philosopher, sometimes they are the rude New York get-it-done eye roller, etc.) actually somewhere in the middle of it all – but really IS an optimist despite themselves. Kind of slippery and hard to pin down. Big family, used to being what their other siblings/parents need from them. Fairly certain CEO MC is headed for an early heart attack with the amount of espresso she imbibes. Probably an author. Maybe an ex-broadway personjust because. IDK.

The PR LAWYER: Worked-three-jobs-put-self-through-college story. Patience, tact, good at calming people down. Detail oriented, a little fussy about appearances. Perennially exasperated by CEO (Please don’t promise to have a cure for cancer In the next three years with no data to back it up. No, you can’t punch the reporter for being a dick. Look, I know you WANT to donate 100% of proceeds to charity but please pick a friendlier one than ‘punch reporters in the face foundation’ that’s not gonna fly) never gets enough sleep. Has a key to MC’s house so they can come yell at her for making their life difficult at whatever hour of the night she insists on doing so. Is on MC’s speed-dial, which means they also get called to DD, though they’d rather not.

FLAKY MODEL(s?): Trust fund kid? Pretty face? Floats through life? The sort of person who will get on the wrong subway train and then just ride it all day people-watching never mind that they had an appointment six hours ago. Pose with a boa constrictor? Sure, as long as it’s being treated humanely. Tarantula on the face? Awwww, it’s fuzzyyyyy. No filter, no worries. Probably drags CEO MC along on a Caribbean shoot and PR Lawyer has to call and yell because that does not look good, okay? And poor MC is like, I thought we were getting a drink and model is like WE ARE we are getting tropical coconut water from the SOURCE here oh wait I don’t know how to drink out of a coconut…who knows why they are attracted to CEO MC, probably because she’s there and sticks around and no one else does. Human puppy dog.

CHAIRMAN OF THE BOARD: young hotshot venture capitalist, thinks CEO MC is a bleeding heart (your employees do not need that many sick days, lost productivity blah blah blah why do we need a daycare onsite that’s a waste of shareholder money), kind of a math whiz, naturally lucky, doesn’t get along with family (gambling problem in the fam – which manifests in him in investment risks and unresolved issues) butts heads constantly with MC, frequently tries to get her fired – in part because his attempts to do so get her fired up and she does great things, which ultimately is better for the company than when she’s just doing her normal ‘good’ job. She is going to be royally ticked when she figures that out. Manipulative, but relatively benign under it all. The sort of person who smirks instead of smiles. All the time.

CHEF FROM HER FAVORITE RESTAURANT: Also a CEO though on smaller scale, because, running a restaurant IS running a business. Probably under the impression CEO MC is actually like, a graduate student with no money because she tends to get takeout at weird hours. Gruff, grumpy, abrupt, but heart of gold. Basically—will grumble about you coming in late but will add extra veggies to your pasta because you’re looking a little pale and need the nutrients and if you call them on it will snarl that they had to be used up they were going bad and he wasn’t going to waste extra, expensive, PROTEIN on you. (MC asks them out and then realizes the only nice restaurant she knows is the one the chef owns)

PRESCHOOL TEACHER: JUST A DECENTLY NICE PERSON. Checks in to make sure MC has eaten regularly, staying hydrated, needs anything fixed around the house (she can do her own plumbing but doesn’t like the electrical and hey it’s nice to have company). Good with kids. Maybe divorced and wanted them but ex-spouse didn’t? idk. Calm, not easily ruffled, sweet as pie, except when he’s playing video games and suddenly MC understands how he can get through the day without any aggression – he unleashes it on fictional zombies. Blissfully normal, all things considered.

PERSONAL TRAINER: “fine, whatever, EAT THE DANG CHEESE if you’re just going to ignore my nutritional advice we’re doing ten more reps” athletic, happiest when DOING versus saying or reading or sitting. Not as impulsive as you’d guess at first glance, because they tend to use working out as a meditative time to make decisions. Didn’t finish college because they realized they just didn’t enjoy it, but they did enjoy working with student athletes, which is how they got into training. Enviably fit. Wants to expand the gym so wheedles business advice out of MC in exchange for not harassing her about her tendency to drink coffee instead of water (she insists it has water IN it, it should count) not particularly intimidated by her, which is a pleasant change of pace.

Supporting Cast (non LIs)

ADMINISTRATIVE ASSISTANT: Keeps MC sane, has her back, schedules everything. Good at details, even better at smiling at angry people and making them not-angry through sheer force of sunny personality (actually a ruse, MC is convinced she’s actually the most delightfully evil person ever, but like some kind of fairy tale where when you acknowledge the thing it goes away, refuses to ever dive into figuring out). Older than the MC because we need to stop making middle aged women invisible in stories?? Sometimes has to remind MC of how much she does by holding silent protests (in part why MC thinks she is secretly a supervillain in the making) which are always, always successful.

PARENT COMPANY ADMIN ASSISTANT: Bane of MC’s existence. Smarmy, smily pain in the tush.

CFO: We have put in an official request with the company credit card management to start declining purchases at that coffee shop you go to, no this is not negotiable, it’s not in the budget anymore drink so darn water woman. Completely willing to go toe-to-toe with MC, meetings often involve a lot of yelling, but they’re always productive and no hard feelings.

CIO: Serpent-y, but not in a bad way. Just a very cool-tempered person, very contained, very guarded, very introverted. Never happy when she has to do presentations, so super willing to share knowledge with MC so she does it instead (she is not a great teacher, kind of judgey and shows her frustration when MC doesn’t ‘get’ it right away, but very brilliant, and there’s no malice in the judgement, just no filter). Extremely logic-oriented and process-oriented over people-oriented. Picks up and assess tech very quickly, and good at finding affordable, fast solutions.

RANDOM MARKETING EMPLOYEE: Set up to be a villain but is actually like gung-ho on MC’s side. Literally an ex pageant queen, went to college on scholarship from it. Out of the workforce for awhile as a stay at home mom when her kids were young, but picks up the new trends fast. Now a single mother, so will literally fight the chairman if he tries to take away the company daycare. Some days uses the ‘people see a pretty face and assume no brain’ to her advantage, some days it wears her out. Unofficially drinking buddy with MC, even though they both feel weird about it given the fact MC is technically boss’s boss’s boss.

BARTENDER: also an ex-girlfriend maybe? Current best friend? Who she turns to when the barista cuts her off from coffee and the chef’s restaurant is already closed. Sharp-tongued, bristly, generally disgusted with MC’s six inch heels and slacks in her leather-jacket, cigar smoke bar. Like lady, you’re lost. Probably on the mob payroll at some point in her life.

ROUTE PLOTS:

(Chairman route?) MERGER – company has just bought another company, which is a major risk move for CEO (can only be one, so do you keep the old one on as a VP? Do you let them go? Will they be bitter/try to sabotage you?) you have to fend off internal sabotage, get everything running smoothly without either company falling apart in the process.  

(PR Lawyer route?) Parent company did something massively shady and it’s tainting your company’s name too, so you have to scrounge to avoid having to fire half your employees and keep the company alive.

(Model route?) New product launch – hence why models are entering the picture. It’s a new business venture in the sense it’s targeted at a completely new audience your company hasn’t catered to before.

(Personal Trainer route?) Company is in its infancy, hugely risky time, and you’re doing everything you can to ensure it’s a success  (maybe including putting your own salary back into it, which means you can’t afford PT so they agree to work with you as long as you give them business advice)

FROM @han-pan- they keep trying to buy new retail space for the gym and MC keeps buying it instead because it’s SUCH GOOD PROPERTY and they sort of exasperatedly are like ugh fine whatever you owe me since you keep swiping prime spots out from under my nose

See the rest here

[cardinalwrites]

Lava

Based off this video because I cannot stop laughing

It had started out as a simple enough dare, Dean and Cas would each get a total of 3 tries per person to try and “kill” the other by telling the other that “the floor is lava.” They would then have five seconds before they had to find a way to get off the ground and scream that the floor was lava to any unsuspecting passerby if there were anyway. There was no prize, not really. Dean just really wanted to beat Cas at something, and Cas didn’t mind if he got bragging rights.

Cas had been first, during a walk in the park between their two college classes on campus. “The floor is lava,” he’d casually said. Dean had not understood until he did, and at which point he only had 3 seconds left and nothing that he could use to get off the ground. Nothing, except, for a trashcan just up the trail. He’d made it with one second to spare.

“The floor is lava!” Dean screamed triumphantly, balancing precariously on the poor trashcan below him. He had managed to get into a crouch before the inevitable happened––when Dean went to get down back onto the ground and rejoin Cas he slipped and wound up wedging his butt straight into the trashcan. Castiel wouldn’t let him forget it for a week.

The next turn had been Dean’s, choosing to wait until Cas and he were on a grocery run to enact his plan.

“Hey, Cas,” he called the other’s attention while they were in the toilet paper aisle. 

“Hm?”

“The floor is lava.” 

Castiel’s face went from recognition to laughter, and then to fear as he twisted his head between the full aisles, unsure of how to get off the ground.

“Five... Four... Three...” Dean goaded, pushing Castiel further into a frenzy. Castiel had only just managed to see a lack of toilet paper on the shelves when he jumped headfirst into the store shelf, toilet paper flying everywhere. He had made it, but not before both Dean and he were promptly kicked out of the store, no groceries in hand. Mary would have their heads, but Dean and Cas would laugh about it for the next month.

Dean had been getting nervous during that month, however, because it had been Castiel’s turn and he had yet to say anything for four entire weeks. He should have known Castiel’s strategy, however. The man was a genius at figuring out his opponent. They had been at the campus Starbucks when it happened.

“Dean,” Castiel tapped the other boy on the shoulder. Dean had thought it was because Castiel wanted to order that ridiculous drink with all the honey in it that he liked, but no. Instead, it was much, much worse. “The floor is lava.”

Dean stared at his best friend, panic setting in quickly. This was a crowded place, and they were just about to place their order.

“Sir, what will you have?” The barista had asked.

“I am so sorry about this,” Dean didn’t give the poor college student another chance to stop him before he was up on the cashier’s desk screaming “THE FLOOR IS LAVA” to half of the university. The fun part was that some of the coffee drinkers joined in. The not-so fun part was the manager politely escorting a very red Dean out, Castiel emerging not too soon after with Dean’s favorite drink and his own honey coma inducing conception. 

Dean vowed to make Castiel eat the grin on his face the entire way back to their shared dorm, a plan already in motion.

It would take place the following week, during a time where they were looking through possible carpets for their apartment that they’d be sharing for next year. It was a modest store with a wide selection, one Dean knew they would be in for hours if Castiel had his way. He didn't blame him or anything, he actually found it kind of cute, but like hell Dean would tell Cas that, not while they were still tied and it was his turn.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean motioned for the other to join him at the swatch desk, carpet squares in various colors and textures laid out before him. “They have everything here, it’s crazy. They even have a color called,” he flipped through a few squares, “‘The Floor is Lava’”

“Oh, Dean,” now it was Castiel’s turn to shift again in the store, people not necessarily crowding the place like the coffee shop, but nevertheless not that many places that had an actual place to get off the floor. Carpet rollers were everywhere, and Dean thought he would actually win as he counted down. He should never have underestimated his best friend, however.

Castiel found a way, even if it meant rolling himself between two carpet rollers in the nearest rack to do so, his form disappearing into the back half of the showpiece, laughter being the only indication that he was even there to begin with. Getting him out of there had proved to be an hour-long ordeal, but not one that Dean particularly disliked. Castiel neither. Both boys ended up nearly face first on the ground once Dean had managed to pull Cas out, but if they stayed that way for a little longer than probably was platonically acceptable neither was complaining about it. They each had one shot left to win, and the score was still tied.

Dean thought whatever Cas would pull him through would be easy compared to the last two. Whenever they were at stores seemed like the most likely option to do so, and he had been right. Two weeks later, they had been looking through dog toys and luggage to ship to Sam when Castiel spoke the famous last words. Dean thought he’d gotten a game plan together when they had walked into the store initially, scouting every aisle for a possible landing perch should it come to it. Castiel, of course, must have done the exact same thing, carefully waiting until they were between aisles and out in the open by said dog toys and luggage to carry out his final attempt to best Dean. 

“Five, four, three, two, one!” Castiel nearly had him until Dean dove headfirst into the carefully arranged luggage, each one toppling like dominoes. They had been banned from that store, too, but not before Castiel joisted Dean up from the pit of luggage he’d found himself in and never letting go of Dean’s hand until the manager closed the door of the store to them altogether. It was all up to Dean now to end this, and he had to make sure it was a good one.

Three and a half weeks passed then, both roommates nearly done with their finals for the semester and smelling the beginnings of a summer where they could at least tentatively relax. It had been fun, playing the game and trying to best each other, and if it had resulted in a few heart stopping moments for either of them then all the more. Dean knew he had a crush on his roommate, but he didn’t wish to risk it. Losing his best friend was too much.

They had been walking along the beach, a very rare sight to behold in and of itself. But the wind had been calm and it was beginning to look like summer. It had been Dean’s idea to go, but it was for a very specific reason. The beach could have rocks on the shore, sure, but not everywhere. He would win hands down.

“Summer is nearly here. Do you have any plans?” Castiel asked, his feet sinking into the sand beneath him as Dean and he walked side by side, shoulders occasionally brushing against one another.

“Dunno, probably work at the shop or take some online classes. I need to if I want to graduate the same year as you,” Dean responded, his eyes looking for just the right place with no rocks or anything that could help Cas clear the game. There was one such place not too far ahead.

“You and I will graduate at the same, time, Dean,” Castiel spoke as if this was fact that had already happened, a staple of the future. 

“Yeah, well, then we’ll have our futures to worry about, you know,” Dean couldn’t help but add, the sand below him seeming to cause him to sink as he fought to walk. They were nearly there, he just had to keep talking. “But we’ll have each other, right?”

“Of course, Dean,” Castiel spoke so resolutely it caused Dean’s heart to skip a beat. “You are not getting rid of me that easily.”

Dean smiled at the thought. He had no intention of doing that any time soon, or ever really. “You know what else we’ll have?”

“What?”

“The floor is lava,” Dean enunciated each word as his eyes fixed on Castiel’s, savoring the recognition that dawned on the other boy’s face. 

“Dean, there’s nowhere––”

“Hasn’t stopped you before! Five, four, three, two, on––” Dean thought he would win, even if the prize was nothing itself. He really thought there had been nothing Castiel could jump for to avoid the ground. 

He never counted on himself being something that technically fit the criteria.

Dean clamored to maintain his balance as Castiel jumped straight into his arms and put his legs around Dean’s waist, arms encircling Dean’s head as Dean suddenly got a very personal encounter with Castiel’s face. He could feel how fast Castiel’s heart had been beating from the sudden panic, or maybe that was just his own.

“Guess it remained a tie,” Castiel breathed, his eyes searching Dean’s before trailing down to Dean’s lips.

“Y-yeah. I didn’t think of that, of me,” Dean barely whispered, the waves nearly drowning out his words altogether. “Guess we both won?”

Castiel smiled and nodded, though he made no attempt of getting off of Dean. For his part, Dean found he didn’t mind holding Castiel’s weight the way he was. It felt welcome. It felt right.

“Cas, I need to tell you something,” Dean began. This felt too right to be left as a question. “Even after we graduate and get jobs and be adults and have lives, I need to tell you that I––”

Castiel silenced him by closing the distance between them. Dean barely had time to register what had happened before he found his legs give out from under him and both of them cascade onto the sand beneath, Castiel now on top of him. Despite that, however, they did not break the kiss until what felt like hours later.

“Dean?” Castiel searched the other boy’s green eyes, happiness etched into every one of his features. 

“Y-yeah?” Dean smiled right back, everything now being opened up to him. This was what he wanted, this was the future he dreamt of but never dared ask about before.

“We just fell in lava.”

[wishingforatypewriter]

Fighting with Nakiris

Summary: In which Erina and Alice are angry because they care. Some spoilers for chapter 222. Fourth installment in my On the Road series. 

This was becoming a bad habit, Erina realized as she made her way down to the main kitchen at three in the morning as she had almost every night for the last week and a half. And as was usually the case, Yukihira was already in there making something.

He grinned when he saw her. Erina swallowed thickly, suddenly hyper-aware of her short nightgown and messy ponytail. "Perfect timing, Nakiri."

"Hmm. What do you have for me today?" she asked, eyeing him and the large metal pot he was stirring with a blend of fascination and disdain. Considering the ordeal he'd just gone through to get the former third seat on their side, Erina assumed that he'd try to get a decent amount of sleep—but clearly she'd been wrong. He never did have any sense of self-preservation.

"Coq au vin ramen," he explained before ladling her out a serving. His insanity might have been rubbing off on her, but the French inspired dish actually sounded like a good idea.

Erina took a deep breath before sampling the rich soup, flavored with chicken bones and red wine. It tasted of summer nights in Paris—of walks along the Seine and stolen moments in the shade of the Musee d'Orsay. And that was only the broth.

"Have you ever even been to France?" she asked, breathless.

"Nope."

Damn him. Erina noted the subtle balance between the slightly acidic broth and the rich lardons. The flavors were beyond reproach. She had come to realize that in the kitchen after dark, her god tongue was entirely his creature—and oh how she hated him for it.

"So what do you think?" he asked her, grinning in that self-satisfied way of his.

"Passable," she said curtly, refusing to meet his eyes. He didn't seem completely bent on torturing her tonight, and she appreciated it. "Barely."

Usually he'd try to get a better response out of her, but Souma merely shrugged at her less than enthused reaction. Her hooded eyes and rapid breathing said all the words she refused to speak aloud. "Want me to try again? I had another idea for ramen using jerk pork."

Erina nibbled her lower lip; that sounded delicious. But she wasn't even done slurping up the contents of the bowl in front of her. Would she be able to survive another of his creations without losing her composure? "I won't be made into your guinea pig, Yukihira!" she snapped. "People pay absurd amounts of money to have me take even one bite of their dishes."

"You seem to be enjoying it, though," he pointed out. "Isn't that why you keep coming down here at night?"

"Absolutely not! Nothing would make me happier than to stop running into you down here," she said with a scoff and an exaggerated hair flip.

"Alright. Just pretend I'm not here." Then he took out another gargantuan pot and started mincing garlic with thyme and scotch bonnet peppers.

Erina frowned. He had let the argument go a lot faster than she expected, perhaps faster than she wanted. Was something wrong?

Deciding to take advantage of the reprieve he'd granted her, Erina was able ignore him for all of five minutes before she glanced his way. He looked more exhausted than she had ever seen him. "Why don't you just go to bed? Tadokoro-san said you collapsed earlier today."

"Well, technically that was yesterday."

"Not the point."

Souma merely shrugged, the tired expression gone now that he knew she was looking. "I bounced back," he explained. "But going against Megishima made me realize there are all types of ramen out there."

"Naturally he would." Erina knew that by their third year, each student chef at Tōtsuki settled into a specialization—and senior Elite Ten members held complete hegemony over their specialties. She could hardly fathom how the former third seat had been convinced by anything the likes of Yukihira had to say. "But that still doesn't change the fact that you need sleep to function...not that you were ever all that functional to begin with."

"Don't worry about it. I never needed much sleep." Then he flashed her an easy grin—one, she assumed, that was meant to convince her of his infallibility, that he had an easy solution stored away for every potential setback. It was the expression of a charismatic leader trying to assuage the worries of a subordinate, and she resented it immensely. He may have had all the other rebels—hell, everyone else in their graduating class—spellbound, but he could not fool her.

"Okay, let's get one thing straight between us," she said, her voice level, her expression made of steel. "In general, I'm clearly far above you. But in this one particular situation, you and I are equals. I am not one of your adoring fans—"

"Nakiri, what are you—"

"Let me finish," she said, meeting his eyes with a defiant amethyst stare. "You know that unwavering faith in your ability to fix things that everyone else seems to be depending on? I don't have it. At all. I see things the way they are. If you keep overworking yourself like this, you're going to end up in the hospital, and then my father will get everything he wants. It is so arrogant for you to think that despite everything Isshiki-senpai, and Takumi, and even Hisako and Alice and the others have been doing, the fate of the culinary world rests on whether you can perfect two or three extra dishes in the middle of the night!"

For a good minute afterwards, Souma only looked at her. For someone who rarely said what she meant, Nakiri could give a damn good lecture when she wanted to. "You're right. I'm sorry if that's how I came off."

"Really?" Erina blinked once. Twice. She hadn't expected it to be that easy. "I mean…just try to be reasonable—limit it to one or two all-nighters a week."

As soon as she left the kitchen, Erina ran into Kuga-senpai loitering in the hallway. She could tell from the smirk on his face that he had heard everything.

"Is there something you need, senpai?" she asked.

"My snack time is right after yours," he explained. "But maybe I should just head back upstairs."

"Do as you see fit," the Nakiri heiress said, nonplussed, before continuing down the hall.

"You know, Nakiri-kun," he said to her retreating back. "You have a really strange way of letting your feelings show. You should be more honest."

"Good night, Kuga-senpai." Erina continued until she reached the staircase, back straight, head held high. And then, in the comfort of her own bedroom, she buried her face in a thick down pillow and screamed.

It was well past four when they came back from their late night mission, this one to break the Azami faction's monopoly over the ingredient supply chains in Hokkaido. Usually Yuki and Ryouko and the others slept through the clandestine departures and early arrivals. But this time they were all disturbed by the sounds of a largely one-sided argument.

"You guys are so stupid. Insanely stupid!" Alice said.

"Okay," Kurokiba replied, set on appeasing her.

"But it's not okay. You could have gotten yourselves killed!"

"Do you understand how much money that was?" Hayama inserted.

"It wasn't even that much money!" Alice shouted. "Back me up here, Hishoko."

"It actually was a lot of money, Alice," Hisako told her, and since Alice was paying these bribes out of her checking account, she was very glad that it hadn't been stolen. "I'm going to go get some ice."

When the Arato heiress went up to the breakfast nook to retrieve said ice, she happened upon the usual eavesdropping crowd. Ikumi, Yuki, and Ryouko were joined by Marui and Ibusaki. All five of them were sipping tea—Hisako's tea, mind you—and wearing intrigued expressions. The sounds of the argument were still wafting up, loud and clear.

"But what if they had been armed?"

"They weren't."

"But what if they had been? You would be dead, Ryo-kun!"

“You’re exaggerating.” 

“In what way am I exaggerating?” 

Hisako grabbed an ice bucket and a few dish rags, sighing. "You guys have until this bucket is full to ask your questions." She pushed the button on the fridge. "Go."

"What the hell happened?" Ikumi asked.

"The person we were supposed to make a deal with actually set us up to get robbed."

"Are you alright, secretary-chi?" Yuki questioned, raising her hand like a child in school.

"Alice and I stayed in the car the whole time," she explained. "We didn't even know what happened until it was over."

"But Kurokiba and Hayama…" Ryouko let the question hang in the air.

"Were stupid enough to try and fight their way out? Yes."

"Boys are so dumb," Yuki said. "I definitely agree with Alice-chi now."

"Yoshino-san, that's a lot of money to just lose," Ibusaki interjected.

"What happened to the money, anyway?" Mauri asked.

"We still have it somehow." Hisako finished her tale just as the ice bucket reached its capacity. "But naturally Alice is not happy."

"And you?" Ikumi asked.

Hisako sighed. She really hadn't had a chance to react with Alice barely letting anyone get a word in edgewise. She supposed she was just glad nothing really bad happened. "Honestly, I'm just ready for bed at this point. Goodnight, all."

She descended the stairs to a chorus of 'goodnight Hishoko' and was surprised to find the living room silent.

"Alice decided to take the argument back to her room so she could get comfortable," Hayama told her.

"Typical." Hisako rolled her eyes at the revelation. "How'd you manage to escape?"

"She has tunnel vision when she's mad, and you know how she is with Kurokiba. All I had to do was stand on the other side of the room."

Hisako actually laughed a little. "You're the worst." Wordlessly she wrapped some of the ice up in dishrags and handed it to him. "She's right, you know. Dramatic, but right."

"Probably." He took the DIY ice pack from her, thanked her. "Luckily none of those gentlemen in the pub hit as hard as you do."

"Oh, shut up." She had to admit, there might have been some truth to it. She had spent years taking self-defense classes so she would be able to protect Erina in case of an emergency. However, she would have never guessed that her right hook packed such a punch while she was sleeping. "Where'd you learn how to fight, anyway?" she asked. While Kurokiba had always served as Alice's enforcer, she didn't imagine that Hayama got much practice in ass kicking while watering the plants in Professor Shiomi's greenhouse.

"Here and there," he said with a sigh, and Hisako knew that she wouldn't get a more detailed response out of him. Not tonight, anyway.

"Wanna do me a favor?" she asked before realizing that the question made her sound a bit too much like Alice.

"Depends on what."

"Go give Alice and Kurokiba the rest of this ice before it melts." She, for one, was not getting drawn into her tirade again.

"Not happening," he told her. "Ask for something else."

Hisako smirked. He should not have said that. "You know that dish you made for the finals of the autumn elections…"

Two hours, several cups of expensive tea, and a plate of pacific saury carpaccio later, they were found asleep on the living room couch. This time, at least, nobody was punched.