#and I dropped it on tiled floor so hopefully it's not too difficult to clean up.... i am sorry cleaning ladiesss

[autism69]

half my coffee on the floor.... guys let's all go home

[pinkanonwrites]

Washrack Academy

Jetstorm and Jetfire have a lot of questions about humans. But you? You just want to take your shower in peace.

TFA Jetfire, TFA Jetstorm, and Reader, no ships but it's implied Jetfire has a little crush on the reader, human reader, non-sexual nudity, is it still voyeurism if it's mostly fueled by curiosity? probably, AFAB Reader with GN Pronouns, alien anatomy discussions

"You know, humans are being much more hygienic than Sentinel says they are being."

You rolled your eyes, hefting your small duffel bag further up your shoulder. "Yeah, well Sentinel doesn't know as much about humans as he thinks he does. Most people I know shower every other day at the very least. We aren't big fans of being dirty."

"But now you are being extra dirty!" Jetstorm loomed over you with a cheeky grin, running a huge metal digit over the top of your head. A slick of motor oil came with it, sending another disgusted shiver down your spine at the gooey sensation. "Bumblebee maybe needs to working on power steering! And not splashing human friends with drinks of celebration."

Being a human liaison representing the city of Detroit on Cybertron was already a job way outside of the normal parameters of your career, and the stress was leaving you pretty wired. But Bumblebee accidentally tipping an oversized can of motor oil off a table and directly onto your head while showing off just had to be the final nail in the coffin. In front of a whole bunch of big important Autobots and everything.

Now you were being flanked on either side by Sentinel Prime's personal squadron (a gig they eagerly volunteered for and a choice both you and Sentinel had little say in) as they showed you to whatever the Cybertronian equivalent of an army base locker room was so you could get cleaned up. 

"And motor oil not to be damaging your fluffy organic fibers?" Great, now Jetfire was poking at your greasy hair too. At least he had half a processor to keep his igniters off while he did.

"It's called hair. And it'll only damage it if I leave it in too long. Plus, it's really bad for my skin."

"Good for it not to be doing badness to hair! Yikes for it to be doing badness to skin. So sensitive, little organics. Must be very hard!"

"You're telling me, bud."

"Here! Coming this way." Jetstorm gestured for you to follow him through a tiled doorway. The room beyond looked remarkably similar to the locker room you'd had in high school, though blown up to a cartoonish scale. "We have tiny washrack for mini-bot sizes. Maybe too big for you still, but is better than nothing!"

He wasn't exaggerating, the handles for the mini-bot sized faucets were still a good two or three feet out of your reach. 

"Where do you even put your towels? Your soap?" You glanced around but failed to find any bench or wall divot suitably placed for setting your things down. "Is there anywhere I can set my bag?"

"Just be putting bag into subspace! Easy for peasy!" A small compartment popped open on Jetstorm's chest, and from it he procured… a metal scouring pad? A giant one, about the size of a large restaurant platter. If the situation weren't so incredibly absurd already, you might've gotten a chuckle out of the idea of a robot using a Brillo pad as a loofah.

"Yeah, we don't… humans don't have that." You said instead. Because this situation was, in fact, incredibly absurd.

Jetfire and Jetstorm looked at each other, mirrored expressions of visible confusion. Then, they both shrugged.

"Being a human…"

"...Is very difficult!"

"Look, just- can one of you hold it for me? Please?"

"For certain! I will be best at human wash rack supplies holder job! Be counting on me." You dropped your duffel bag into Jetfire's cupped hands and wrenched it open. Grabbing your various bottles of hair product and a large towel from within, you lined them up on the floor along the wall and hopefully just beyond the reach of the shower's spray. But as you moved for the bottom of your shirt to pull it off, you felt the prickle of two pairs of optics staring just a little bit too hard at your body.

"Are you two just gonna… watch me? You can wait outside, you know."

"We are to be protecting you from curious bots! And make sure you do not do the snooping or the wandering off." Jetstorm insisted.

"Are you gonna do that while staring me down? A little privacy, please." Was it ironic to ask for privacy in a locker room? Probably. But most people had the decency not to stare while someone was getting undressed. 

Most people. Maybe that sentiment didn't extend to twelve foot tall transforming robot soldiers.

"Staring? Who is doing the staring? Certainly not us goodness bots!" 

"No, no! We would never be the staring! Especially not at soft and squishy little human frame!"

Both brothers rushed to cup a servo over their optics, continuously asserting their supposed innocence all the while. You sighed, peeling your way out of your slick and permanently stained clothes and letting them fall to the ground in an oily heap.

"Well I don't know how it is on Cybertron, but on Earth staring at people in the locker room is what we call 'bad manners.' You two ever heard of those?"

"We will being so very manners-filled! No staring from us at you, big promise." Jetfire insisted, carefully depositing your bag into his subspace as he brought his other servo up so they were both covering his faceplate.

"Though do not be trying to do the sneaking off while we are look-away! That would be also called 'bad manners.'" Added Jetstorm with a cheeky thumbs-up.

"I'm not going to go sneaking around your base naked, so you don't need to worry about that. Now could one of you get the water for me, please?"

As Jetstorm felt along the wall and cranked the water to partial blast, you swear you heard him ask his brother 'But what is "naked" meaning?' The hiss of the showerhead quickly covered it, though, and you decided you'd rather focus on getting clean before you struggled to explain the foreign concept to the pair of ridiculous twins. The water ran just hot enough to make your skin tingle as you lathered your hair with shampoo, vigorously scrubbing the motor oil free from your scalp. It'd probably take more than a few rinses to get everything out, you'd have to ask Professor Sumdac to bridge you some more toiletries way sooner than you'd originally planned. Maybe Sari could pick some up for you on her next trip home?

But as you lathered your hair up for the fourth (maybe fifth?) time, you couldn't help but notice a quiet, metallic buzzing that could just barely be heard over the hiss of water. It paused and fizzed in a rhythmic pattern, not all too dissimilar from Morse Code. It would stop for a moment, before picking up again, slightly lower pitched this time. It sounded almost like… a conversation.

"If you've got something to say, you can say it out loud." You called them out. Jetfire startled at the sound of your voice, his own sounding slightly strained. 

"What? But we are such quiet being!"

"You're doing that… that 'EM field' thing. Where you talk to each other with your brains? I've heard Bee and Bulkhead do it before. So, c'mon. What do you want to know?"

He clammed up, absentmindedly scuffing one of his pedes against the tiled floor. Jetstorm, meanwhile, had a sly grin growing across his faceplate. He raised his free servo up in the air like a student waiting to be called on.

"Actually, Jetfire is having a question!"

"I-I am not! Do not listen, brother is merely making funny joke!"

"No, no! Do not listen to him! Jetfire is very, very curious about human not having sp-MRMPH!"

A cacophony of metal on metal echoed through the wash racks as Jetfire tackled his brother to the wet tile, wrestling his servos over the other's intake to keep him quiet. Jetstorm grabbed for his brother's goggles and pulled him into a shaky headlock, even as Jetfire repeatedly kicked him in the knees with the flat of his pede. You scrambled to grab your towel, clutching it to your front as the two bots collapsed to the ground in an ear-splitting crash.

"Hey, HEY! Quit it! What the hell are you two doing?!"

Both of their heads snapped up at your tone, Jetstorm still looking mischievous while his brother had the decency to look a bit sheepish. He quickly pried Jetfire's servo off of his intake.

"Jetfire is wanting to know why humans do not have spike! You know, since he was doing the peeking."

"Y-You were also doing peeking! I know you were curious too!" Jetfire shot back.

"Maybe curious, yes, but you are obsessed! 'Oh, little humans are so soft and so squishy being! Why so warm? I want to be holding one!'"

"I am not sounding like that! You are making exaggeration!"

Jetfire seemed on the verge of tackling his brother again, so you quickly stepped in. "Okay, geez, look. I will answer one, ONE! Question each. And only if you stop hitting each other. That's it. I don't have the energy for this today."

The two bots awkwardly clambered back to their feet, Jetstorm looking down at you with a playful grin while Jetfire seemed to be looking anywhere but your unclothed frame.

"Brotherrrrr?" Jetstorm teased. "Would you like to be going first?" 

Jetfire dignified his brother's teasing with a sharp elbow to the side, but spoke anyway. "S-Sorry to be peeking when you said not, but, um, do humans not have- uh, not have spike? Or is it hidden? Maybe not pressurized? If embarrassing you don't have to say. No biggee."

You furrowed your brow. 'Spike.' You don't think you'd heard any of the Autobots use that term before, at least not around you. Maybe it was a built-in weapon? Or some sort of specialized armor plating?

"I, uh, I don't know what a spike is. Sorry. Can you be… more specific?"

Jetfire let out a high-pitched sound, similar to heat escaping a tea kettle, while his brother only seemed to beam even brighter at his humiliated suffering.

"Ah, you know! Spike!" Jetstorm grinned. "Right here, above valve? Comes out like 'fssshh'? No modesty panel on you, so maybe just hidden away!" He made a bunch of vague motions in front of his crotch, and with a looming horror you started to catch on as he mimed the motion of something growing and rising up in front of his crotch plate. His modesty panel.

Holy shit they had robot dicks.

"N-No? No, I don't have a- a spike." You were doing your absolute best to stay focused on the conversation at hand, not think about… about the robot penis that apparently all Cybertronians had? "Humans, uh, most humans just have one or the other. The, um, the spike or the… the…"

"Valve?" Jetstorm happily supplied.

"Sure? I guess?!"

"Something new to be learned every day! Right, brother?" Jetstorm thumped his brother on the back with an open servo, while Jetfire was openly refusing to make eye contact with you. The temperature in the room seemed to peak by a few degrees, and based on the heat waves rolling off of Jetfire's body you had an inkling suspicion it was his doing, however unintentional it may be. "Anyways, my turn, yes? You said word 'naked'. What is 'naked' meaning?"

"Uh, y-yeah. Um, yeah. Sure." God, you did not have the mental fortitude to deal with these revelations today. "Naked just means you're not… covered up? Wearing clothes. There are some parts on a human that have to be covered in public, otherwise it's uh… inappropriate." Your only solace was that now you had some sort of comparison to make between Cybertronians and humans. "Like, you guys wouldn't walk around with your… your spike out? Same for humans."

"Ohhh…" They even had stunned realizations in unison. You'd almost consider it cute, if you weren't already so burnt-out.

"Yep, well, class is over. Can I please get dressed now? Preferably without being watched?"

"A-Ah! Yes, of course! So sorry! Here is things." Jetfire quickly fumbled your duffel out of his subspace, only for it to slip through his digits and hit the floor with a thud. Wincing, he turned to shove his brother from the room, calling over his shoulder to you as they went. "We will be watching door so no bots do peeking! Then there is no way we be seeing you naked, not even little bit! Seeing you in moment- but not naked! Just normal seeing!"

"O-Okay? I'll be out in… a bit." But they were already gone. Weird. Weird couple of bots. But hey, at least now you could dry your hair in peace.

~  ~  ~  ~  ~  

"Very bumpy landing, brother." Jetstorm couldn't fight his mirthful grin as he stared down at his spark-twin, who was currently sitting with his back to the wall outside the wash racks, knee-joints pulled up tight to his chassis and faceplate hidden from view. "I may not be seeing exact same appeal you do, but humans are verrrrrry entertaining being. That human especially so!"

"I wish to be offline." Jetfire lamented. "So awkward, very very uncool. They will never be speaking to me again."

"Do not be so downer, brother! They answer questions very nice, and do not even yell when you peeking at their array!"

Jetfire let out another pathetic wail. "Do not be reminding me! Me, caught peeking? Would rather scrub every rivet on Omega Supreme than be that embarrassing again." He slammed his helm against the tops of his knee-joints a few times for good measure, a loud, echoing clanking reverberating down the hall. "Why are little humans being so soft? A-And when covering self, why are little peeks of soft bits around towel so- so erotic?"

Jetstorm cackled, patting his brother atop the helm with his servo. "And to think, we thought being human is hard. Sounds like liking human is much, much harder!"

[izzyfandoms]

Through Your Ears And Mine

SHIPS: Dukemile

CHARACTERS: Remus Sanders, Emile Picani

WARNING: Remus eats something gross

GENERAL TAGLIST: @quillfics42 @aj-draws @phantomofthesanderssides @phlying-squirrel @sly-is-my-name-loving-is-my-game @because-were-fam-ily @imtryingthisout @a-creepycookie @emo-disaster @littlestr @spooky-scary-virgil @fuyel @mimsidoodles @soupgremlin @aroaceagenderfluid @birdsbookshiddeninrealbirdsskin @quirkalurk @gingers-trashy-stuff @iinyxtello @justaqueercactus @melodiread @mrbubbajones @glassferns @pun-master-logan @gayturtlez @k1ngtok1

Masterpost

A Series Of Soulmate AUs Masterpost

Remus always knew when he was about to switch hearing with his soulmate.

His ears warmed and started to tingle, and he always had a few second warning until he lost his own hearing, and started to hear through his soulmate’s ears. It always lasted at least five seconds, and never more than half a minute, though mostly somewhere in the middle, and usually didn’t give him too much information, though he enjoyed it every time.

He often heard cartoons, and he’d managed to piece together that his soulmate was a therapist through the numerous snippets of patients talking. Once, he’d heard them call his soulmate ‘doc,’ which was as close to a name or nickname as Remus had ever gotten to hearing.

Whenever he heard music, it was almost always Disney or from cartoons, which painted quite the picture of what Remus’s soulmate was like.

He seemed cute and sweet and kind, based on his taste and his choice of career, and absolutely nothing like Remus, himself.

But everyone said that opposites attracted, and Remus already knew that his soulmate was exactly his type. That was how soulmates worked, after all.

Unfortunately, Remus’s voice stopped working whenever he heard through his soulmate’s ears, which made it pretty difficult to leave a message, and the unpredictability of when it happened made it equally hard to plan ahead. He was never much of a planner, though, and was content to just let life happen to him.

They couldn’t really use their soulbond to find each other, but Remus was still happy with what it was, and listening to his soulmate was always the best part of his day.

He’d find him when he found them, and though Remus was impatient, he wasn’t the kind of person to just go out and find him himself.

When he heard the warmth and tingling in his ears, he was listening to music – it was loud and crude, just his taste, but nothing his soulmate hadn’t heard through him before, so he kept it going when the world faded out, and his soulmate’s side faded in.

“-are the Crystal Gems, we’ll always save the day!”

Ah, Steven Universe. Remus’s cousin, Patton, had teamed up with Roman to make Remus watch the show with them, so he was familiar with the theme tune. It also wasn’t the first time he’d overheard his soulmate watching it.

“And if you think we can’t, we’ll always find a way!”

Remus drummed his fingers on his knee in time to the music.

“That’s why the people of this world believe in: Garnet, Amethyst and Pearl and Steven!”

Only a moment after the theme-tune was finished, it faded out and the song Remus was listening to faded back in. It was almost over, and Remus suddenly realised how loud it was, especially in comparison to the song he’d just overheard. Hopefully his soulmate didn’t have sensitive ears.

Remus huffed, flopping back against the couch, and keeping the song at the deafening volume.

That was boring. He’d been hoping for something a little more interesting – some snippet that would tell him more about his soulmate and their life – but apparently fate had had different ideas.

Remus got up, ripping the headphones from his head and dropping them and his phone onto the couch cushions. He went over to his kitchen and decided to make the most terrible snack he could possibly think of. After a moment of consideration, tapping his foot on the kitchen floor tiles and scanning his surroundings, he decided on ketchup and mint chocolate chip ice cream.

For a second, he wondered if he should microwave the ingredients, making it more of a soup, but he decided against it as he really didn’t want to wait that long.

He mixed the two ingredients in the first bowl he could find, grabbing a spoon from the drawer and then sitting on his kitchen counter, pulling his legs up to sit cross-legged.

He ate slowly, savouring the sweet and sour mix of food that he knew would absolutely horrify everyone he’d ever met. Remus would have to text Roman about his snack lately, simply to nauseate and annoy his twin brother. It tasted good, in Remus’s opinion, but he was always one who liked peculiar flavours.

When Remus finished his snack, he dropped the bowl into the sink, alongside all of the other dishes that had been left there for days. He could clean up another time.

(He would not.)

The moment he took a step out of the kitchen, the warmth and tingling in his ears suddenly resumed.

Remus froze in place. It was uncommon for these things to happen back-to-back like this, but not completely underheard of. Once, a few years ago, it had happened twelve times in one day – twice an hour for six hours in a row – and afterwards Roman had told him that that had meant he’d been close to meeting his soulmate, but had missed the opportunity. After that, Remus had sulked for a week.

Hope began to bubble up inside of him, and Remus immediately grinned. He slumped against the wall, and prepared to listen to what he assumed was likely going to be more Steven Universe.

Instead, when his hearing faded out, and his soulmate’s faded in, he heard something else.

“Gosh, I really hope you can hear this! My friend told me to do this, said it worked for him. I recorded this on my phone, ‘cos you can’t normally hear my voice,” the voice was quick, and it took a moment for it to click in Remus’s head that this must have been his soulmate’s voice. He would’ve gasped if he could have. Instead his voice was stuck in his throat, like it always was when he heard through his soulmate’s ears. “So, um, my address is...”

There was only just enough time for the address to finish, before the sound faded out, and the silence of Remus’s apartment faded back in.

He was frozen in place, his eyes wide.

The voice was male, at least from Remus could tell, which made sense as Remus was gay, and therefore only really attracted to men. It was perfect, and already the most attractive voice Remus had ever heard in his life, and he never wanted to stop hearing it.

A minute passed, and then Remus jumped to work. He sped through his apartment, sifting through the mess of drawers – and making an even bigger mess – as he searched for a pen and a piece of paper. He went over the address again and again and again in his head as he moved, making sure not to forget it and memorizing it quickly.

When he finally found a scrap piece of paper – that had a doodle of a man being beheaded on the back – he immediately scribbled the address over the back.

He stared at it for a few seconds, clutching the paper so tightly that he almost ripped it in half.

Then, he made his mind up.

The plans he had already made for tonight, meeting up with his parents for their fortnightly dinner together, immediately slipped from his head. He had to go to this address.

He rushed over to the couch, picking up his phone and searching up the address, and his eyes lit up and his heart skipped a beat when he realised: his soulmate was close.  

A two-hour long drive. Possibly less, if Remus didn’t care about breaking laws and ignoring the speed limit, which he truly did not care about.

He could go to that address right now. He could meet his soulmate today.

Remus had to. He would.

He crumpled the paper up into a ball, shoving it into his pocket along with the pen. He then rushed through his apartment like a hurricane, making an even bigger mess of the place as he searched through drawers for his car keys. For once, he was annoyed with himself at his lack of order, as he usually didn’t have much of an idea of where everything was. Normally he didn’t mind, but right now he was in enough of a hurry that he hated it.

When he finally found his keys, he turned and left his apartment.

He forgot to shut the door behind him, but it would be a while until he remembered that.

He drove faster than the speed limit when he could, but apparently fate was on his side, as he wasn’t at any point pulled over. He was halfway through his drive when the hearing switched again, and, for once in his life, Remus was responsible, and he pulled over to listen.

It was the same voice – another recorded message – and Remus’s heart skipped a beat in his chest.

It started with an awkward laugh – endearing and adorable and it made fireworks go off in Remus’s heart – and then the voice spoke again.

“Maybe I should’ve started with my number,” his soulmate said. “And my name. I got a little ahead of myself there, sorry.” Another awkward laugh. “Um... my name is Emile Picani and my number is...”

Remus grabbed the pen that he’d stuffed into his pocket and scribbled the number across the back of his right hand as it was recited. The hearing faded out, and he was left staring at his hand when the sound of the cars zooming past him faded back in.

After a moment, he dug around in his pockets for his phone, and retrieved it quickly.

He wasted no time adding the contact to his phone, and then texting it immediately.

REMUS

would it be weird for me to come to ur address right now

If Remus were any other man, he would have realised how weird of an opening that was. However, he was not any other man, he was Remus, and that was the best he could come up with.

He didn’t have to wait long for a reply.

EMILE

Umm....

I guess that depends on who you are!

Remus could practically hear that sweet, awkward laugh in his head, and he couldn’t wait for the next time he’d get to hear it in his ears again. Hopefully, that next time would happen face-to-face.

REMUS

soulmate

ur voice is pretty

Remus drummed his fingers on his knee as he waited impatiently for the next text. It only took a couple minutes for the next text to come.

EMILE

Oh my gosh!!! Wow!!!!!

So it worked?

My brother told me it would but i was so nervous!

It worked for him and his soulmate but i wasn’t sure it would for us!!!!

All bonds are different right?

REMUS

it worked

can i come then?

EMILE

Gosh okay!!

I don’t have work today and it would be jut wonderful to finally meet you!!!

*just

As long as it doesn’t inconvenience you of course

REMUS

Im already close

And he was. A quick glance at his GPS made it known that he was already only an hour away. Just an away from his soulmate’s place, and from finally meeting his soulmate himself.

Remus was ecstatic.

He stuffed his phone into his pocket and restarted his drive.

Again, he drove over the speed limit, but, again, it seemed that fate was on his side, and he wasn’t caught and pulled over.

He got a few complaints from pedestrians when he sloppily parked just down the street from his soulmate’s apartment building, and one even kicked his tire. He ignored them all without hesitation, though, and only just remembered to lock his car behind him as he raced down the street: not quite running, but certainly hurrying.

He passed pedestrians that he paid no mind, darting through the crowd, and then stopped in his tracks when he passed a small stall selling flowers.

Remus paused, his mind moving a mile a minute, before he bought the first bouquet that caught his eye – it was rainbow: a bright, mixture of colours that Remus hoped his soulmate would like.

He wasn’t usually the nice, romantic type, but even Remus wanted to make a good first impression.

It didn’t take long for him to get inside the apartment building – one of the tenants opened the door just before him, and kept holding it open for Remus when they saw him following behind.

He climbed the stairs – he figured running up them was better than taking the elevator, and risking having to stop at every floor. It didn’t take long for him to find his soulmate’s apartment; he checked the address once on the way, and, though his hand-writing was messy and unreadable to most, he knew he was in the right place.

Remus stopped at the door, and knocked loudly.

But before just before it could open, the familiar warmth and tingling of his ears returned, and the moment the door swung open, he still heard it, but through the ears of the man now in front of him, instead of his own.

The man in front of him – his soulmate, his soulmate – was cute. Very, very cute. He had curly hair and wide eyes, and clothes that were pink and beige and neat and clean, as opposed to Remus’s, which were always ripped and messy.

They stared at each other, as they could not yet talk.

Emile’s eyes kept flicking between Remus’s face and the bouquet, and it was only when their hearing switched back that he remembered to hand the flowers to his soulmate.

He held them out, and Emile took them and held them to his chest.

“Thank you.”

[btswishes]

Love me for who I am now

Bucky x Reader ( Chapter 5)

Previous / Next (6)

Summary: You apply for the Stark internship and end up getting it, so now you have 5 months to make a good impression to continue working with the Avengers.

A/N:  I hope the chapters are not too long with no action. Lets see how it goes from now on. I have no idea how long this might end up being, presumably not past 20 chapters. Sorry for any mistakes made, hope you enjoy it even a tiny bit.

Tag list: @vicmc624  @yasminwashere​​

Word count:  4,076

Warmings: fights, harsh language, not part of the original MCU

Y/N- Your name                            

Y/L/N- Your Last Name                  

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

  Three moons shined over your new room one after the other, observing its slow but sure change. A white canvas starting to turn into a personal expression of ownership and personality. Working with Dr. Banner was quite enjoyable. It was you two at first till Tony joined in, showing you little tricks that increased your productivity by 50%. Amazing what one could do with an experienced teacher. You got used to the gym, going on your own at this point. Anxiety now a part of the past. The first week in the compound felt like more than a month. Cups and mugs, kitchen and rooms, you memorized it all by heart – a surprise even to some of the Avengers still struggling with it. Your brain but a sponge for all important information.

  Peeking inside your room, the sun gently warmed up your skin, awaking you to a missed call from Nea. Your fingers lazily, based on touch memory, rung her phone back.

“Why don’t you pick up when I call you?” she lectured you in the mic

“Because unlike your grand majesty vampire Nea, we mortals need sleep to function.” You murmured in a groggy tone “Maybe share your ambrosia with me next time.”

“They don’t offer super soldier serum energy drinks there?”

“No.” your voice sounded like two stones being grinded together. Palm rubbed over your eyes, leaning your body on that exact elbow seconds later “What do you want? It’s 6 fucking AM.”

“To have breakfast together grumpy.” Nea had a devilish tone, who knew what she was thinking in that pretty head of hers again.

“Now!?”

“No, no. At 9 maybe. Same place we usually go to.” It took a bit of convincing, but you ended up saying yes “See ya later sugar.” The beep following her voice made you throw the phone to the side and puff out, body falling back on the mattress. Your eyes shot open again a few cloud movements later, when you jumped off the bed and into the bathroom. Your gaze landed on the reflection, hair looking like you had an exciting night – wrong by a mile.

  6AM or not, you couldn’t fall asleep anymore, so what was the next best thing? Getting training over while everyone was hopefully still sleeping. Less embarrassment when you miss the punching bag and face plant in it – again.

  Workout clothes on your back, bag in hand and a big chug of water – off to the elevator for your exhausted self. Numbers appearing into the little screen one after the other, counting down the floors till you smelled that familiar cleaner. At this point it did the same job as a preworkout powder. Throwing the duffle bag on a bench, you dragged yourself around the gym - thrilled by the emptiness.

“Lovely.” Your voice rung out breathy with relieve. Some cardio later you began your usual workout program designed by yours truly the trio of demons - Nat, Steve and Bucky who in more than one way was the father of the shittiest things you had to do. What normal human being does upside-down crunches? 

  White chalk enveloped your fist in a cloud, as it made contact with the punching bag. The sheer force pushing back farther with each powerful blow. You huffed and puffed bearing the exhaustion starting to slowly drop and pile in your system. The little trickster in your head began hypnotizing you, making giving up or stopping now such a sweet idea, only one choice away. Yet if you didn’t finish up the daily routine you knew they would catch you and the penalty one was far from pleasant. Better the lesser evil than Satan himself.

“Glad to see you are not training your face for once.” The voice vibrated with an amused bass, conducted by the heavy boots shacking up the room with the same depth.

“Ha, ha.” Your skin made contact with the leather at the last word, taking the object off the chains in one clean swoop “Funny Sergeant. So much so I didn’t even laugh.” Fingers wrapped around your wrists as the punching-bag rested on the floor after its ceremonial thump, making sure there was no damage you could have missed with the lack of pain.

  His eyes enveloped your arm, running over your shoulder and to your face, no thought behind his blue eyes. Almost like a force of habit to check for something. Even if his body frame was big you could never noticed him moving, which was scary at first. Bucky could be anywhere at anytime with no sign at all.

“What got you up this early?” he grabbed a second punching bag and threw it on the hook, filling the huge gym hall with the sound of metal hitting metal “Night…terrors?” the sentence came out like a small whisper, hoping you didn’t catch it.

“Nope si-“

“Do I make you uncomfortable?” your words stuck on top of your tongue, just shaking your head “ Then why don’t you use my name the same way you call Steve and Natasha?” your eyes looked at him for a moment, before grabbing the weights from the side and tying them up to your waistline. His head turned to the side, somehow making him feel stupid for letting such a thing leave his lips. A coldblooded soldier, scared of a request.

“I actually had a goodnight sleep, that is until my best friend called me at 6am.” Your body pushed off the floor, chains singing out, tapping on your thighs.

“I see.”

  Palms firm on the bar, your neck crooked a bit to catch a glimpse of his sagging posture before refocusing in front.

“How did you sleep…- Bucky?” the blue color in his eyes twinkled with delight, maybe a hint of pleasure at how his name sounded coming out from your lips, with that sweet tone he seemed drawn to the past days. It felt almost like he longed to hear it again from decades ago.

“I slept.” His voice was colored with need to cover his lie with a coat of truth

“Doesn’t look-“ you pulled yourself up the bar “- like you did much of that. Trouble sleeping too?”

  Bucky’s fist kept hitting the bag at the same speed you were doing pull ups close by. Two sounds, hand in had married to a familiar rhythm intertwined by silence. His grunts sending a chill down your neck, convulsing it back a bit. It felt almost like his fingers were inches from touching you skin, the area blazing.

“Ugh.” You whined out, his ear twitching in your direction. The thud followed your body walking past him to your bag “I will go take a shower seeing how it is 8 already. Time sure passes fast with you Bucky.” A giggle rung out tugging on a smile. His lips parted, but he gave himself an unaffected façade, even if his heart was doing leaps.

“I don’t talk much.”

“Well maybe if you actually slept more, you would.” Scolding and serious about health issues with this man child, had become a daily occurrence. Seeing how he didn’t even try to lay down. “See ya later.” You waved the back of your hand at him, walking away.

  The showers in the compound were amazing. Everyone in the Avengers had their own one. Your shampoo and products were already resting inside waiting for you to jump in. It was a co-ed bathroom, but usually most of you guys had a different schedule so no encounters. Well maybe once or twice with Natasha, but it was fun aside from her teasing. The warm skin on your heel cooled down immediately after it made contact with the light navy tiles.

“Ohhh.” Your muscles made you spasm for a minute before adjusting to the temperature. Water running over your body, relaxing every bit of your strained figure, droplets gently massaging the pain from the inside out rhythmically. The stream pulled your hair down, elongating it with each pass over. You felt your arm lean onto the wall in front, just to enjoy the full effect of the radiating warmth, opening up your sinuses. Eyes slowly closing, taking you to a safe space, almost away from this world and back into another.

  After what felt like an eternity of alone time in the gym, Bucky had stopped working out just standing there. He had no more motivation. Fist draped with the soft material of the towel, he made his way to the shared showers before his body froze. Running water caught him off guard, but what laid the finishing blow was the delicious smell of flowers and fruits filling up his senses. Usually faint to people, but he was enhanced – a gift on missions, a knife to his chest when it came to things like these. He took a deep breath, trying to swallow the forming lump in his throat. Bucky didn’t know why this was so difficult for him. He had been in here with others before, but nothing made his blood flow faster than right now.

“Bucky?” your voice shook him out of his daze, nowhere to run anymore.

“Yeah. Sorry I didn’t know you were still here.” Your face flushed red upon hearing him actually answer, for a second you thought it was just a random sound. His heavy footsteps echoed on purpose, almost like he wanted you to know where he was exactly, so you would feel less uncomfortable or frightened. Eyes shooting in the direction of your door, where he seemed to have stopped.

“Something wrong?” your voice pitched with his presence so close to your naked body

“My shower is next to Sam and Steve on the other end, but-“ he stopped opening the door to the one positioned right next to you. “ My name is right here.” It took you a minute to register what could have happened, before a forced laugh pushed out your throat

“Tony got bored I guess.” He always pulled stunts like this from what you saw and were told by others. Pepper made sure to warn you, but you didn’t think he would go this far. Then again, why were you nervous in the first place anyways? Who cares, right? You knew Bucky wouldn’t do anything, he was just a puppy with a scary outer shell. Or maybe you wanted something - a thought turning your eyes a bit dark, glazed over almost.

“I swear, he needs his ass beat.” Bucky growled which didn’t help your situation or thoughts “I will wait for you outside.” Pressing your lips together you held in a thought, that just couldn’t sit still. Its metaphorical fingers pried an escape open.

“It’s ok. I trust you, plus we are team mates Bucky. I don’t think it will always be a nice encounter for us if I started going on missions soon.”  

  Tense air, steam filling not only the room but also your mind. Damn it! You cursed at yourself, but that soon dissolved the moment you heard the click and water hitting the tiles. For a moment air couldn’t come out of you, only the humidity in the room running over both your bodies.

  Gathering yourself together, the memory of your breakfast plans harnessed you into action. Your finger flicked the lid of the bottle open, pouring some onto your sponge. Cutting the water flow, you began rubbing it all over your body, bubbles forming a thin fabric like veil over your figure. Taking in the ambiance of the situation, you could smell that familiar scent that usually came off Bucky – almost relaxing you out of instinct.

“That is a nice shampoo you have there.” You spoke up. Bucky wasn’t a stranger, plus small talk could ease your nerves more. In your mind you were the only one feeling weird – far from the truth.

“It’s a body wash.” He said “I use it for both.”

“You can’t do that!” and just like that anxiety flew out of the window like it wasn’t here, in your chest at all “ That will dry your hair out!”

“It does the job. I don’t mind.”

“Well you should. I know it’s probably too much work for you, but you gotta put some care in yourself too Bucky. This is a terrorist attack to your scalp!”

“You seem very enthusiastic about this subject.” He laughed out, catching you of guard. He was having too much fun and you weren’t having any of it. Bucky should be taking you seriously. Pursing out your lips, the little devil on your shoulder crawled to your ear and whispered with an alluring voice. The corners of your lips curled up in the same evil smirk, as your fingers silently grabbed your mango ice cream with essential oils, shampoo. Tiptoeing over to the wall dividing you, you reached over pouring some on top of his head, while Bucky was busy explaining how it is a waste of time for him. Palm over your lips grasping your jaw, you tried to not let out even the smallest peep, no matter how much you wanted to bust out laughing – he would find out. The sergeant’s big hands rubbed the product into his long hair, before bringing his fingers to his nose and catching your snickering from the other side. A new found confidence started filling your blood circulation with adrenalin.

  Bucky didn’t say anything, he used your lack of concentration to do exactly the same. It took you faster to figure it out, his shampoo already soaked up into your hair, roots and scalp.

“Barnes!” a hostile hiss parting your mouth, mad at his childish behavior even thought you were the one that started it in the first place.

“An eye for an eye doll.” You could practically feel him smirking. Switching the game on you, it wasn’t fun being on the receiving end.

“Did you peep on me!” he laughed out and denied , seeing how riled up you were – feeding his inner self 

“Don’t let yourself fall prey to your primal instincts James.” This was the first time you used his first, real name. You wanted to tease him, he always acted like a kid so pushing his buttons wouldn’t be something too difficult to achieve. On the other side, fire lit up in his chest, flowing like lava all over his body, skin radiating waves off heat. Bucky’s eyes shot up almost over the wall, dark.

“Oh trust me doll, this wall isn’t high enough or strong enough if I truly wanted to take your figure in.” His palm hit the top of the only barrier between you two, proving his point. The tiles almost cracked under his pressure “If I wanted to I easily could.” Showing just how tall and massive he actually was. The water almost not hitting the floor could give you a good idea about his posture. The image of his back flexing in that pose intoxicated your mind, but you weren’t ready to give up the crown now.

“Don’t be ashamed Bucky. You lack a few years of experience sleeping through them. Happens, no one will put it against you.” Hitting him right in the manhood, low blow even if he was 100+ years.

“Say that after you have experienced me doll. 40s James couldn’t do to you the things super soldier me can.” Your voice hitched upon that whole sentence, the confidence in this man. You heard Steve joking about this from time to time, but coming directly from Bucky was a whole other thing. The shower felt like ages, when you stepped out wrapping the towel around yourself as tight as possible. Not taking your chance with meeting him you dashed towards the door, almost slipping.

“Careful doll face.” his right hand holding you by the waist, chest pressed into you. He had only one towel around his hips dangerously close to sliding off his hips and thick thighs. The water from his hair dripping onto your chest, fixed hungry gaze onto you. “Cat got your tongue? You were so talkative with that wall between us.” A light push and you found yourself back onto your feet and scrambling to get out to the lockers and to your room.

  You didn’t want to give yourself a moment to process what happened, so you got dressed and ran off to your destination. Flying through the crowds almost, leaving the situation streets behind.

“Wow wow!” Nea’s hands flew up when your body jumped into the booth she saved for you two “What got you all riled up?”

“I am NOT!” strenuous notes hitting her right in the face.

“Ok…so not the case then. I already ordered your usual. Mind?” you shook your head, leaving your light green bag close to you, trying to calm down. “So.” Leaning onto the soft pads on her palms, Nea eyed you up and down feeling embarrassment oozing out “ Did you break something or someone?”

“No, No. Can you just, drop it?” mimicking her posture you threw your face in your hands, wishing to A) go back in time or B) just disappear from the face of the Earth.

“I was going to but...” pulling her body back, letting it lean on the chair, she scanned “Let me guess. You dressed up in less than 10min, ran here for the same amount of time AND.” Her nose found its way to your hair, making you jump back protectively “You smell like a man, not a boy. A man. Not to mention your red face.” Nea paused, letting you take in her wave of words “Grab a glass of water and let’s see if it will evaporate. Tssssss burning.”

“Your order.” A waitress rolled up with your food. Thanking her, you flashed a forced smile watching her walk away.

“Spill it! Who was it?” arrows were being shot at you. Nea was your best friend. If you didn’t tell her, who would you? After a lot of consideration you sighed, giving her the sign she needed to get ready for this.

An explanation later 

“You got cocky.” Her arm taking in her weight on the table minutes after the whole story “ What does the agent even look like? Is he taller? I mean do you have an upper hand or something.”

“It was….Bucky.” you hid your face, waiting for the explosion. Not hearing anything pulled your eyes to her wide ones, mouth hanging almost to the table. With a light motion you closed it back up for her.

“The….the…WINTER SOLDIER!?”

“SHHHHH!” your body flung up, pressing both your hands to her mouth, almost stopping her air. Nea pushed you off, oxygen meeting her lungs before silence again. “Don’t yell!”

“Well I mean WHO WOULDN’T .” She noticed how uncomfortable you were about explaining “At least he smells really good. Is he as beefy as they say? Who is thicker him or Steve? What about Thor, heard he had a nice body too!”

“Calm down. I don’t wanna talk about other people like that.”

“Fine! Keep it to yourself then….” She eyed you, her posture sideways “How is the tower treating you? ” The topic changed to your daily lives and some tea about mutual friends. Breakfast was nice, quite refreshing to meet the city bustle compared to the Zen state of the compound. Nea knew exactly how to calm you down and get you back into your natural rhythm. After paying, you two made your way out the restaurant and back into the ensemble of random sounds.

“Any plan?”

“Hm?” Nea was throwing you a worried stare “About?”

“The situation with the sergeant. You will meet him at some point in there. Gym, hall, common room. You can’t evade him forever. What if you end up being paired up on a mission? Y/N, you are not the type to let stuff like these effect your job.” She was right. There was no way to hide forever. Being bold was what got you in this situation and it could be the answer to it again.

“You are right. If we end up being in a place alone, I will talk it out with him. Probs apologies for making him uncomfortable.” Rubbing the back of your neck you paired the motion with an uneasy, maybe slightly painful laugh.

“ There you go again!” Nea crossed her arms in front of her chest scoffing, letting them fall forcefully. “Going in your head. To me it sounded like he liked it AND teased you back. Don’t force people away like you usually do just because you THINK they don’t like you.” Her smile was soft, sweet like that of a mother giving advice to her hurt child.

“OK!” balling your fingers in a fist you rose them to the level of your chin – aura filled with enthusiasm “I got this!”

“You do!” this girl could hype a crocodile to fly and actually do it.

“What is wrong?” you waved your hand in front of her concentrated face behind you, seeing as how your words weren’t registering anymore

“Better do what you promised me ok?” her hand pushed you back slightly, before you felt an arm as strong as a bolder grab onto you, lifting you off in one swift move.

“TAKE GOOD CARE OF HER!” your best friend’s voice being left further and further away. The disruptive winds were pulling your hair back with the speed the car was drifting with, drying out even the smallest water droplet left. In a moment’s notice you got smuggled in through the big window, finding yourself sitting in someone’s lap.

“Congratulations on your first mission kid.” Steve was holding onto the car’s wheel like there was no tomorrow, driving with speed close to seeing God.

“What is going on!?”you began moving around, confused, catching the city and your freetime in the distance. Bucky’s hands pushed you down onto his lap, trying to stop you from falling out the window

“Tony called. Something out of nowhere popped up and he needs us.”

“Us?” you gasped at the blonde man, trying to calm your heart from the contact with Bucky

“Yup.” His thumb pointed at the back seat “Bruce made sure to pack the stuff we need so just sit down and enjoy the ride. Bucky is pretty comfy.” He threw you a wink.

“Can I go to the back at least?”

“No can do doll. We can’t stop the car.” Your now seat explained

  Rage, confusion and who knows what else was stirring up in you, wanting to jab a punch in both the faces of the super soldiers. Tony too, he has been messing around a bit too much lately. Your back hit Bucky’s muscles when you leaned aggressively, pushing your arms to your chest as you blew a strand of hair out of your face. The whole situation pulled a light groan out of him, that didn’t go unnoticed to your shivering thighs.

“We will be there in a bit.” Steve grabbed the gearstick with the same aggression projected on the wheel, his knuckle turning white under the drip. There was no running away from this, first mission or not you at least wanted to know before hand, get briefed maybe. Your knee began jumping nervously. How bad could this actually be - sending 2 super soldiers and a bag of who knows what. If your metal dust was in there, shit was going to go down. Could you do it? Could you trust yourself enough to finish the job, not get yelled at….or die?

  Bucky’s vibranium arm ran over your uneasy leg and gently rubbed circles into the fabric of the pants. Head leaning down to your ear, fingers moving the hair to expose the shell.

“It’s ok, just relax. Nothing will happen promise baby girl.” Warm air over your skin, yet calming in a weird way “I have been told that my lap is pretty comfortable by ladies. Just enjoy it.”

“James! Buchanan! Barnes! How! Can! You! Be! Pervery! Right! NOW!!!” a hit to his chest between each word, send a vibration through his body, the laugh coming out distorted. Steve threw a look your way, but didn’t say anything, keeping his thoughts behind those serious eyes of his. As he let his best friend get beat up. Whatever it was, this mission was not just a field trip and Cap knew.

[janekfan]

Commitment

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26181859

The tiny printed words on the statement Jon held in his hand seemed to swim on the page as he attempted to read it for the third time in as many minutes. Throwing in the towel, he slid it back into its folder beside the scraps of research and notes Martin left behind when he finally succumbed to the flu Sasha saw fit to spread to the staff before disappearing presumably to recover in peace. A persistent headache resistant to even a staggering amount of paracetamol rested just behind his eyes and Jon removed his glasses, folding them beside the copious paperwork, and let his forehead rest on folded arms.

He was, quite frankly. Knackered.

But there was too much left unanswered to not keep working and Jon would be damned if he allowed a little exhaustion to get in the way of figuring out what the hell was going on. Martin would be back soon and hopefully so would Sasha and until then he would pick up the slack. The sound of footsteps drew his attention and he reluctantly turned his head towards the window in the door, tensing when a Tim-shaped shadow paused for a few seconds before walking on and releasing the breath he was holding in a shaky sigh.

It wasn’t a secret, Tim’s dislike of him, and rather than invite his ire, Jon opted to slog through the work from his ill assistants himself. He’d pulled all nighters before, this was no different and it wouldn’t be much longer, he was sure of it. So lost in thought, Jon didn’t notice the footsteps again until Tim’s bulk was all but blocking the light sifting through the frosted glass. Even with that barrier between them, Jon could tell he was upset, shoulders set stiff, his voice slipped through and it was like he was trying to convince himself of something. Eyes wide when the door knob began to turn, Jon scrambled to sit up straight and look presentable before Tim’s cold presence filled the small office.

“Evening, Tim.”

“Haven’t you been home?” Jon forced himself to stay calm despite the scorn in his tone. There was a time. Before.

Well, that was over now.

“Ah, uh. D’didn’t seem worth it.” Mumbled as he gestured at the piles of research, confused when myriad conflicting emotions flew across Tim’s face and settled on weary indifference.

“Why didn’t you--” Tim shook his head. “You know what. Nevermind. Work yourself into the desk.” The slamming of the door and the rattling of the glass reverberated in Jon’s skull, and he groaned, letting his head fall again.

“Night, Tim.”

Groggy, Jon swallowed around the desert in his mouth, coughing roughly into his elbow. Sleeping on his desk hadn’t been a good plan of action at all and if anything his headache was worse than before. Coffee. Tea. Whichever they had in the breakroom. And some more painkillers. He’d been foolish not to drink much of anything before and was certainly suffering for it now, staggering woozily into the rickety shelves against the wall and kissing a box of organized files goodbye as they spilled all over the floor. All he could do was blink dumbly at the new tile job he’d done, stepping carefully over the mess when he felt like he had a better grasp on which direction was up. When was the last time he’d eaten? Thankfully, with everyone either sick or avoiding him, Jon was able to take his time limping to the breakroom and preparing the tea he’d found. He added a generous spoonful of honey, feeling luxurious today, and closed his eyes against just how good the sweet, hot drink felt on his aching throat.

“You look shite.” The disdain was palpable and Jon swallowed around the clot of sorrow. He wouldn’t cry in front of him. He would not.

“Thank you, Tim.”

“Sound it too.” He couldn’t argue, instead finishing up his tea and setting about washing the mug. “Martin keeps telling me to check on you.”

“I’m doing just fine.” He braced himself on the counter.

“Clearly.” Dry.

“You can tell Martin and be on your way. I don’t want to keep you.” He met Tim’s narrowed eyes much more confidently than he felt, wishing he’d kept the mug so he’d have something to do with his hands.

“Tch.”

The day did not go up from there. Jon felt increasingly chilled, even bundled up in everything he could find. The files were still all over his floor and he couldn’t make himself care enough to do anything about it when he could barely lift his chin off his chest.

“Maybe. Maybe a, a lie down.” He took with him the bottle of water he’d been nursing (Martin would be proud and making him proud had climbed to the top of his priority list without him noticing) and the half empty bottle of paracetamol, having to lean heavily on the wall to even make it to the room that held the cot. The whole of him ached fiercely, like his joints were full of glass dust and he was stumbling through a brush fire, and by the time he arrived he had to admit that he was possibly, probably, ill. “Fan’fantastic.” Oh, he couldn’t pinpoint a time in his life when he felt this poorly. He was shaking too hard to get a grip on the cap, cursing children and their child safety, and ended up sending a handful of pills skittering across the floor. He salvaged four, swallowing them dry, and when he coughed, struggled again to open the water bottle only to spill most of it he sobbed. Frustrated, Jon felt tears spring to his eyes when faced with cleaning up the mess he’d made because all he was good for was making a mess of things and this was why he was alone because he deserved to be that way. He forced down the remaining water, scrubbed his forearm roughly against his face, and collapsed sideways, tossing and turning in increasingly vain attempts to get comfortable and only making himself nauseous. He couldn’t get up again. He didn’t want to be sick, instead leaning over the edge of the cot, Jon pressed his face to the cool tile of the floor, breath slow and measured, trying to focus on settling down. God, is this what Martin was having to go through? He should’ve checked on him. Why didn’t he think to check on him? Should. He should do that now. What if he needed help? He should help.

With numb fingers he fumbled for his phone, hissing through his teeth at the sharp stab of pain the bright screen lighting up caused. It was difficult to work the buttons with only one hand, when his contacts list, laughably small, wavered like a disturbed pond but. Each letter felt like a small miracle. But, if Martin was this poorly he shouldn’t, couldn’t be left alone.

mm artin, jut chdcking in hkw fj you ffele?

He knew he’d misspelled several things but had no more energy to contemplate trying a second time. Pressing send was already too much effort as it was and jamming his device back into the pocket he freed it from was out of the question. He wanted to wait for Martin’s response, felt the worry filling him up, choking him, but the phone slipped from his enervated fingers when his eyes slid closed and he finally fell into blissful darkness.

The notification blinked across the top of his screen and Tim ignored it for the third consecutive time, maintaining focus on the game instead of bothering with whatever Martin wanted. He’d checked on the guy and he was on his feet so job done. Martin calling however was a sight bit harder to ignore and he sighed heavily, rolling his eyes before picking up.

“Tim!” He sounded mostly back to normal at least, feeling better if the energy behind his shouting was any indication. “Tim. Are you listening to me?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m listening.” Sort of.

“You need to find Jon. S’s’something is wrong.”

“I saw him earlier, he’s fine.” Mostly.

“Tim.” The noise over the line was a cross between frustration and anger. “Tim. He’s not. Please. I’m going to call a cab.”

“No, Martin. I’ll find him. Stay there and I’ll call you back in a tick.” Trust even Jon to cause trouble from another room. He wasn’t in the kitchen, nor was he in his office and the disorderly files littering the ground did send a pang of uneasiness through him. “Jon?” He wasn’t in the stacks and Tim began searching each hallway in earnest, finally considering that he may actually be sleeping and all but ran to storage, throwing the door wide and almost falling to his knees in shock. “J’Jon??” The pills. The water. Martin was right. Something was so, so wrong. “Jon!” When he didn’t move, Tim dropped to the floor, ignoring the medication he crushed to powder under his shoes.

He said he’d call Martin. He needed. He needed to call. 999?

Taking a deep breath and bracing himself for the worst, Tim lifted Jon’s upper body from the floor, exhaling the breath he was holding in a rush when he moaned, brow creasing. He cradled him against his knee to run his fingers through Jon’s loose, sweat-damp hair so he could see his deeply flushed face.

“You’re burning up, boss.” Murmuring absently, Tim let his hand rest on his forehead. Martin. He shifted enough to sit on the edge of the cot, Jon still halfway in his lap, completely out of it, and dialed.

“Tim?”

“You were right.” Tim sighed. “He’s down with what looks like your flu.”

“It wasn’t mine.” Barely audible muttering drifted through the speaker. “How is he?”

“I think. I could use some help here. If you’re feeling up to it.” He looked down. He had yet to remove his hand. Jon had yet to wake up. “He’s, he’s bad off.”

“Should you call A&E?” Martin’s voice went quiet at the same time the hazy brown of Jon’s eyes became visible through fluttering lashes.

“He seems to be coming awake on his own. Uh, see you in?”

“Fifteen.” And disconnected the line.

“Jon?” In response he coughed and it rattled in his narrow chest painfully.

“We, we, w’we’ll need to find a replacement.” Despite all that happened between them, Jon’s strange, slurred words made something in Tim’s chest ache and he laid his palm along the length of his feverish cheek.

“A replacement for what?” Fitfully, Jon turned his head, hiding his eyes from the light in Tim’s shirt and swallowing painfully.

“Teakettle’s.” The wheezing, struggling pull for air wasn’t good. “I’it’s gone walkabout.”

Oh dear.

“Martin’s on his way.” Thank god. “He’ll know what to do, just relax.” This was it, his brain was melting. “We need to cool you down.”

“N’no. M’already cold.” Shivering, like he had to prove it, the whine in his refusal was almost, dare he say it. Endearing. If only because this was so far on the opposite end of his usual spectrum and he was so poorly. “Tim?” Why did he have to be so talkative now?

“Yeah, boss?” Gently he eased Martin’s scarf from around his neck and for someone so oblivious of his own infatuation, Jon clearly had it bad for the man if he’d resorted to stealing Martin’s clothes for comfort.

“If you--stop.” Tim was able to bat Jon’s uncoordinated hands away from where he was working on the buttons of his jacket until the man forgot what he was doing. “If you were a beetle…” Despite himself, Tim couldn’t help but chuff. He should record this. It was gold.

“Yeah, boss?” Pressing his fumbling fingers down again, squeezing lightly.

“What would y’do with your extra legs.” When Tim laughed, easing Jon’s arms out of the sleeves, the archivist frowned so very seriously. “S’for research, Tim.” He shivered again, shaking delicately all over now. Of course there would be a sweater under here. No wonder he was boiling. “Tim?” This time he whimpered.

“Yeah, boss?” And Jon’s voice was the smallest, most broken thing.

“Don’t. I think. Think m’not well.”

“Understatement of the year, I’m afraid.” He heard his breath hitch when he tugged the sweater over his head to find him in his vest.

“Tim?”

“Yeah, boss?” To his dismay, tears slipped down his cheeks into the already sweat damp hair at his temples. Tim didn’t remember there being so much grey.

“M’sorry.” Lips pressed together in a trembling line. “M’so. So sorry.” Now wasn’t the time for this. Where was Martin? Martin who was so much better at this than he was. Who still worried about the man trembling in his lap.

“S’alright, Jon.”

“Tim?” Speak of the devil, Martin swung around the door frame, panting, having evidently run from the cab. “He looks really bad.” He unbundled himself, reaching into the bag he’d brought for a thermometer, passing it off to Tim and unpacking the rest of his supplies which included a thermos of tea. Because Martin. Soft and sure, he brushed his fingers through Jon’s flyaways, smoothing them out of his face. “I’ve brought some Lemsip. Christ, he’s so much worse than I was--what’s it say?”

“39.5. Never anything by halves.” Martin visibly relaxed.

“High, but not dangerous and he’s no doubt miserable. The medicine will help.” He knelt beside them, fixing a smile upon his face. “Hullo, Jon.”

“Y’should be resting.” He seemed confused to see him, limp and pliable when Martin switched places with Tim and knuckled away his tears.

“I will once I’ve seen to you, alright? We both will. Take these for me?” Clumsy, Jon followed his directions, even downing the tea without complaint, and Tim admired Martin’s control of their strong willed, idiot coworker, wished he still felt that easy around him. Martin was petting back his hair and Jon was struggling to stay awake, slightly cross-eyed and basically staring, besotted, at Martin’s face. “How’re you feeling?”

“N’need to.” Jon blinked hard. “Tell.”

“Hush,” he soothed, “whatever it is can wait.” But Jon shook his head, insistent.

“Queen of Egypt melted, ‘nd I’ll say that ye may love in spite of beaver hats.” The hell? Martin’s eyes went wide at his nonsensical rambling and Tim began sputtering.

“Was that part of a statement? Is he going all,” Tim wiggled his fingers for emphasis. “Spooky?”

Martin shook his head, clamping down on what appeared to be laughter as Jon finally slipped sideways into sleep.

“He just recited Keats. I am never letting him live that down.” It was Tim’s turn to laugh.

“You dunno the half of it, Marto.”

After tucking Jon in and cleaning up the mess he’d made earlier; only paracetamol, he’d probably felt ill but spilled the bottle in such a state, Martin checked his temperature again and found it lower.

“How’re you doing, Tim?” They were tidying the files Jon had knocked off his shelf earlier and even though Martin had given him an out, he found he wanted to help. He’d been scared earlier, finding him like that, and all the animosity between them unresolved made it worse. They were friends once. And like Martin said, Jon was going through things right along with them.

“Tired.”

“Thank you, for staying with him until I could get here.” Martin tapped together a neat stack of folders. “I know.” He sighed. “Well. I know.”

“He took over all your paperwork, so I owed him one.”

“Of course he did.” He began grumbling to himself about fools and their tendencies to not use their brains, compiling reports much more aggressively than before and it was Tim’s turn to shake his head because Martin.

He had it just as bad.

[iridescentjin]

Summary: Taehyung x reader. roommates! au (I couldn’t get all of it in because it was a lot, but I got a lot of the things in).

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Masturbation, unprotected sex, mild hair pulling, dry humping (sort of. more like wet humping), multiple orgasms. the softest dom!Taehyung that he can hardly be called a dom.

Word Count: 1894

You’re sitting on the couch in your living room, eating a bowl of cereal, when your roommate, Taehyung saunters into the room. He has his usual relaxed look on his face, and he looks so good even in his pajamas. There was no denying that Taehyung was one of the hottest men you’d ever met in your life.

You had been roommates with Taehyung for years, since your sophomore year of college, and the two of you just worked together. You couldn’t say that you hadn’t checked him out from time to time, but the fact that you’d taken care of him while he was throwing up from drinking too much or that time he had the stomach flu made it difficult to see him as anything more than just your goofy roommate.

Tae emerges from the kitchen with a bowl of oatmeal in his hand and stares at your for a second. He tilts his head, and when he opens his mouth, you can’t believe what he’s saying to you.

 “Not to make things weird, but I thought about you when I came last night.”

You nearly choke on the bite of cereal in your mouth. You force yourself to swallow it and look at him with huge eyes. “You what!?”

He shrugs and walks off to his bedroom, oatmeal in hand. You sit on the couch flabbergasted by the admission, followed by him just casually walking away. Your mind is racing as you sit on the couch, wracking your brain for any times that Tae might have given away that he was sexually attracted to you. You come up empty. The two of you made a point to keep it platonic between the two of you, and you had an unspoken agreement to never discuss your sex lives with one another, except the occasional jab about how loud the other was.

After you finish eating, you decide to take a shower to hopefully clear your mind after Taehyung threw you for that loop. You stand under the hot water, letting it fall on your shoulders. You close your eyes and let your mind wander. You think about all the things you have to do this week, the painting that you’ve been working on, and then your mind betrays you. Behind your eyelids, you see an imagine of Taehyung, on his bed, lights dim, cock in hand. His hair is disheveled, and his mouth is parted slightly. His chest rises and falls quickly as his breath quickens.

You stop yourself, shaking your head, before that fantasy goes anything further. You admonish yourself for thinking about Tae like that, but the ache between your legs gives you away. You decide that if you just take care of it now. You slip your hand between your legs, drawing gentle circles on your clit, trying to picture anything but Tae’s face twisted in pleasure, eyes locked on yours.

You let yourself slip into the pleasure of the feeling. You don’t hear the slight knock on the door or the man enter the bathroom until it’s too late. You let out a little moan of his name at the same time that Tae starts, “Sorry, I left my toothbrush-”

Your eyes snap open, and you scream at the foggy visage looking at you through the glass. You try to find something to say, something that will make the embarrassment go away. “Tae, I…”

You can’t find the words, so you trail off. Suddenly, he throws the shower door open, letting the water start to form little puddles on the tile floor. In his pajamas, he steps into the shower and pulls you toward him. You are so shocked that you let it happen, your naked body pressed against his clothed form.

He brings his hand against your cheek and angles your head up to him. He leans in toward you, stopping about an inch away from you. “Did you just say my name?”

You stand there, completely shocked and still mortified, in silence. You are staring at him, unable to form words. He hand slips into your hair, and he tugs gently on the wet strands.

“Y/n, I’m not kidding right now. I need to know before I make a huge mistake. Did you or did you not just say my name while touching yourself?”

Finally, you force your mouth to open. You could lie, and then this embarrassing moment would be over. But you’re too curious to know what it’s like with Taehyung. “I said your name,” slips past your lips.

It’s all Tae needs, and he presses his mouth to yours. Your mouths move together feverishly, like you want to explore every inch of each other’s mouths before the chance slips away from you. The way that his lips and tongue feel against yours is making even more heat pool between your legs. You moan into his mouth as you press your chest more firmly against his. 

“You’re really bad at hiding how turned on you are, you know?” he mumbles against your lips.

“I’m not trying to hide it. And you’re not good at it either.” You slide your hand down his waist and wrap your hand around his hard cock that is straining against his pajama pants.

He reaches over and shuts off the water and pulls you, still dripping, behind him to his bedroom. When you are in the room, he pushes the door shut behind you. He looks at you and sighs a heavy exhale.

“Okay, before this goes any further...is this a bad idea?” he asks, suddenly looking a little shy.

“I mean probably,” you respond. “But I think that I’m willing to take the chance. Are you?”

He thinks for a moment. “If this fucks everything up, we throw away years of friendship and roommate-itude. But, god, I’ve wanted you like this for so long. Fuck it.”

He peels the pajama top over his head and drops his pants. He’s not wearing underwear, and you gasp a little at how his firm length sits up away from his hips. Tae pulls you back against him and starts kissing you again. His hands explore your back and your ass. You feel how hard he is against you. Your head is swimming with the thought that Tae has wanted this for so long.

“Will you let me take control?” Tae asks, as his lips caress your skin down your neck.

You nod, and you feel yourself growing wetter thinking about him telling you what to do?

He smiles a wicked little smile and lies down on the bed. He beckons you over with his finger, and you climb on top of him, straddling his waist, hovering over him. He lets out a deep groan from inside his chest, as he stares at your glistening pussy. 

“You don’t get to feel me inside you yet. Show me that you want it. Let me feel how wet you are.”

He pulls your hips down, so your slit is against his cock. He feels so warm and hard under you that you can’t keep your hips from moving. You slide against him easily, coating him in your arousal. The head of his dick catches on your clit, and you moan out against him. His skin against you feels like velvet, and you are so sensitive that you don’t ever want to stop moving your hips. The skin on his dick is so smooth, and you feel yourself dripping from the contact. You continue moving your hips, and, soon, Taehyung starts moving his hips too.

You look up into his face, and his eyes are blown wide, focused on the place where your bodies are joined. He moans, “fuck,” as his grip tightens on your hips.

“Tae, I’m gonna cum,” you moan out, dropping your head against his shoulder.

“Stay upright, y/n, and I’ll let you cum.”

You sit up, forcing yourself to stay up, throwing your head back on your shoulders. You feel yourself tumble over the edge of your orgasm, pulsing and dripping as Tae’s cock continues to glide against you. Little moans and whimpers spill over your lips as you cum. In between your moans, you hear Tae utter, “fuck, I love you.”

You moan loudly as your ears register what you just heard. You don’t say anything back to him yet, just letting the words resonate.

“I want to be in you. Can I fuck you raw?”

He said it like he hadn’t just admitted that he loved you. You nod and add, “I’m clean and on  the pill.

He doesn’t hesitate and slides his cock inside you, groaning as he does it.

“Fuck you feel so good. So wet. So hot.”

His words are starting to not make sense, but he keeps moving his hips, thrusting up into you. You roll your hips and match his pace. The way that he curves up inside you feels amazing, and his hands on your skin feel so hot they almost burn you. You are riding him, and you can feel yourself ready to cum again. “Tae, Tae I’m gonna-”

He cuts you off, putting his finger to your lips. “How do you feel about me?”

“Tae, you’re my best friend, and you’re fucking me so good.”

He shakes his head as his thrusts take a more punishing pace. “I said I love you. Do you love me? Or do you just see me as your friend?”

You don’t let yourself think of Tae as anything more than a friend most of the time because you don’t want to ruin your friendship, but when you think about it, he is the person that you want next to you at everything, the person you want to do everything with, the person you miss the most when he’s gone. Oh fuck you think to yourself.

“Yeah. Tae, I love you too.”

With your words, Tae topples over the edge of his orgasm, thrusting up into you hard. “I love you,” spilling out of his mouth over and over. You feel him painting you with his cum, and you tumble over the edge as well, clenching against him as he fills you.

You are panting, and your head falls to his shoulder again. He wraps his arms around your torso and pulls you as close to him as he can. His hips slow, and he stops completely when you start coming down from your orgasm. You stay there like that for a long time.

He kisses your forehead as he pulls his softening cock out of you. You groan a little at the loss, but you keep your face buried in his neck.

“I meant what I said, y/n.”

You force yourself to look up at him, and his eyes are wide and vulnerable. You lean up and kiss his cheek. “I did too,” you say with a smile.

He pulls you tighter against him, and you don’t have time to worry about the implications of your admissions before the two of you are drifting off to sleep.

[izzy-b-hands]

Our House

Eugene is away on business for a few weeks, and they’ve both wanted bits and pieces of the house fixed up/changed. 

Snafu can do that all on his own, right? 

Important lessons about home improvement and how it is a fickle beast below the cut!

At the end, re: wine, I’m basing their reactions off of what wine does to me (makes me sleepy af and basically useless if I have more than a glass or two.) 

Also, I did get a weird headache mid-writing this so hopefully it sounds decent and I didn’t accidentally a word anywhere (I read over it for a quick edit, but y’all know I’m notorious for still missing mistakes until three days later.) If y’all do notice something off/an error on this, please let me know so I can fix it asap!

My love to all who read/like/reblog!

The three weeks marked on the calendar had seemed long, in the days prior to them. He’d spent those days moaning to Eugene about how difficult it would be, and how long the weeks would take to pass. 

They hadn’t felt long enough now though. 

The bedroom was done, at least, in a cheerful, soft, pastel yellow. A pastel sage green trim made the whole room feel like spring, at least to Snafu. Eugene would love it, that much he knew for sure. 

“He ain’t gonna love the rest of this though,” Snafu sighed, and took in the rest of the house as he walked through it. Eugene would be back in a day, and he had so much left to do: 

The kitchen was missing half the cabinet doors, which were outside near the shed, halfway to being refinished, varnished, and repainted a light rose pink with white accents. He had never realized just how many cabinets they had until now, and it seemed like too many.

The guest bathroom had yet to be retiled, though the tiles were sitting ready for him to put down. 

The guest bedroom was waiting to be repainted a greyish green, but he hadn’t had time to even crack the paint cans open. 

And finally, and perhaps worst, the living room was...

“A fuckin’ disaster,” Snafu muttered to himself as he walked into it, carefully. The repainting of it to a plum had gone just fine. However, a bit of paint had gotten onto the velvet chaise lounge they’d recently bought at a flea market. They were going to reupholster it anyway, why not do it now to get rid of the paint? 

Snafu shook his head at the memory of asking himself that question. From there, he’d been on a search for a nice velvet to replace the original that would also match the walls, and be to Eugene and his tastes. Easier said than done, and made all the harder at the realization that some of the wood flooring had, at some point, somehow been damaged (maybe when they’d moved in the lounge? He couldn’t be sure.) 

Which meant of course the wood flooring needed to be repaired, which was...a task, putting it mildly.

“How the hell am I gonna finish this?” Snafu asked Queen, who was preening on the leftover velvet for the lounge. 

She rolled over and turned away from him, still preening with one paw. 

“Exactly,” he sighed, then traipsed into the front hall, sitting onto the first step of the staircase to the upper level. “I just gotta make a plan, right? I mean, he might not even notice the guest room; I can paint that later. Bathroom might be an issue, but we don’t even use that bathroom that much, I can hide the tiles. And how often does anybody really look at a cabinet, like really look, ya know?” 

Queen looked over, sighed, and closed her eyes for a nap.

“Right? I don’t look at cabinet doors, that’s for sure,” Snafu continued. “So that just leaves the living room, and the living room-” 

The front door creaked open, and he just barely resisted the urge to bolt. 

“Hey! Is Eugene ba-what in the everloving...” Sidney froze in the doorway, staring at the living room mess. “So, he isn’t back yet then?” 

Snafu shook his head. “Nah, or I’d be dead.” 

“He won’t be that upset,” Sidney soothed. “I know you mentioned you were doin’ some work but...damn. Hey, nearly done though, really. Just the chair there, and the floor some, and-” 

“Most of the rest of the house,” Snafu interrupted. “I got a little ambitious.” 

“How ambitious?” Sidney asked gently, and joined Snafu on the step. 

By the time Snafu was done regaling him with everything that needed doing, Sidney had gone pale. 

“That’s maybe a little too ambitious indeed, Snaf. But, I admire it.” 

“And now you’re headin’ on home, right?” 

Sidney frowned. “Hell do you mean? I’m gonna help you get done whatever we can. We’ll call Mary, she can come by and help paint, and help you with that lounge. Between the three of us, we can get some of it done at least.” 

Snafu stared. They were friends more for Eugene’s sake, rather than to actually be friends (if anything, he got along better with Mary.) There was nothing wrong with Sidney, they just hadn’t clicked in any major way. But it was moments like this he was grateful they both put in the work to become better friends, because what was a good friend if not occasionally a home improvement knight in shining armor?

He hugged Sidney tight, until Sidney finally tried to wriggle out. “Thank you. I know he wouldn’t actually kill me-” 

“He doesn’t even like raising his voice to you,” Sidney interrupted. “Every time y’all argue, he calls me and says how bad he feels about any shouting. And I highly doubt it’s even really ‘shouting.’ But you might have earned it this time, though I would defend you.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. This was done with good intentions, to give him a nice surprise to come home too. Not your fault home improvement shit never goes right,” Sidney replied. “Come on, get up. We got a long night, and I still gotta call Mary.” 

Once Mary was over, it was shocking how fast it all seemed to go. It wasn’t that Sid and Mary rushed him or their own tasks, just that it seemed...easier. The house was warm and loud (as well as the backyard for the last few hours of daylight, while he and Sid finished up the cabinet doors, leaving them painted and drying near the back door) and with the dog and cats occasionally peeking in to check on them, it all felt lively and just good. Better than it had felt for the weeks of being empty except for himself and the pets. 

It was six in the morning when they gave up, and, and Sidney put it “had to accept it for what it was.” 

Which wasn’t terrible, all things considered. 

The last bit of the living room flooring had been fixed up, and the lounge reupholstered thanks to Mary’s endless hard work on it. 

The guest bedroom might need another coat, but it was at least mostly done, and the animals had been kept out of it so the door could be shut, keeping the paint fumes mostly confined to the hall near it. 

The guest bathroom still had some tiles to finish putting down, but it was about halfway done, and that was a hell of a lot further than Snafu had figured they’d get. 

The cabinet doors still needed to finish drying and be actually put back onto the kitchen cabinets, but they looked damn pretty. 

They cleaned up, and settled in to wait for Eugene.

And waited. 

And waited. 

And waited. 

“He would have called by now,” Snafu muttered, after four hours had passed from when Eugene was supposed to be home. “I should go down to the station, see why he isn’t in yet. Maybe he meant for me to pick him up and forgot to say...” 

Sidney shook his head. “That ain’t Eugene. He has a checklist for his checklists; he would have told you. At least four times.” 

Mary nodded. “Do you have a number you can call him at? Maybe his train got delayed and he’s still at his hotel in, where was it again he was going?” 

“Atlanta,” Snafu replied, and walked to the phone with them and three of the cats on his heels. 

He wasn’t at the hotel, nor at the train station in Atlanta. Nor was he at the train station in Mobile, waiting to be picked up. 

“Merriell, don’t panic,” Sidney said softly as they walked back to the couch, and Sid using his proper name was enough to send him spiraling. 

“What if he’s hurt, what if something happened? I should have just gone with him, y’all could have looked after the pets, and I could have found somethin’ to do in Atlanta while he was busy. This is my fault.” 

“How on earth is this your fault?” Mary asked. “I’m sure he’s just fine, probably just...held up, somehow. Who knows, maybe he just can’t catch a cab to the station.”

“For four hours?” Sidney scoffed, then winced as Mary slapped his arm. “I mean yeah. You never know. Could be a cab driver shortage...” 

He expected them to leave, but they stayed even as the day wore on into the evening. Mary eventually got up to check on the paint in the guest room, and when she didn’t return, Snafu figured it was dry enough for the final coat. Sid followed shortly after in getting up, and the sound of the back door opening and closing let him know that the cabinet doors were apparently ready to be put back in place. 

Meanwhile, he waited and watched the phone. 

“Snaf, I’m sure he’s fine,” Sidney said as they finally slipped on their shoes and retrieved their keys from the front hall table. “Somethin’ silly just held him up, and he’ll be rushing in here before you know it. Let yourself get some sleep, okay?” 

Mary nodded, and turned to the door, only to nearly be smacked in the face by it as it swung open.

“I am so sorry,” Eugene was a mess, hair clearly unbrushed, clothes wrinkled, and eyes wild. “Are you okay? Why are you two here? I mean, I don’t mean that like; you just don’t live here is what I mean-” 

“Gene,” Sidney said gently. “Shut the fuck up and breathe for a minute. What happened?” 

Eugene sighed, kicked off his shoes, and moved past them to drop on the newly upholstered chaise lounge. “Snaf, it’s for you. Got it sitting outside. It’s wrapped up, but take a look. Hopefully you like it, and then we can bring it inside. Thought we could hang it in here, on the-did you paint in here?” 

Snafu ignored Sidney’s face-palm and Mary’s shaking head as he headed outside. Just by the front door, was a too-big-for-one-person-to-carry framed canvas, bits of the golden colored frame sticking out from under the brown paper wrapping. And under the paper...

“Those are our babies!” Snafu crowed, and ran back inside, nearly knocked the lounge back as he dropped onto it to hug Eugene. “You had to have commissioned that ages ago, to get them pictures of the cats and God knows how you got a decent one of Ack-Ack, and when did you do that?” 

“Soon as they mentioned they might need me to travel,” Eugene replied. “Called around, found a local artist, sent the pictures along in the mail whenever I got a chance that you weren’t paying attention. Thought it would be a way to make up for me being gone, but gettin’ that thing in and off of a train was something else, and then they nearly didn’t want to let me on, and-” 

Eugene shrugged. “But I made it. And it made it. You like it?” 

“I love it!” he buried his face in Eugene’s shoulder, hugging him tight again and taking in everything about him again, how he felt, the scent of his cologne. “But you better not be goin’ anywhere for awhile regardless. I can tell you later, but I-” 

“You two are absolutely meant for each other,” Sidney laughed. “You with the picture, and this fool...he redid half the damn house while you were gone. With our help, though we were happy to do it. That lounge you’re sittin’ on?” 

Eugene looked down at it as he moved out of Snafu’s embrace as if he was seeing it for the first time. “This wasn’t green velvet when I left.” 

“No, no it wasn’t,” Mary smiled. “But it is now! And wait’ll you see the rest of it, he worked hard. Ran out of time, but he worked hard.” 

“How much did you try to do in three weeks?” Eugene laughed, though his smile drooped slightly as not one of the three of them answered.

“Tell you what,” Snafu replied after a moment. “We get that painting inside, hung up, and have dinner. And then I’ll tell you all what I did, and how I owe our Sid and Mary a very big favor for it, starting with a late dinner tonight if you both want to stay.” 

“...Everything is one piece, right?” 

“Except for the tile of the guest bathroom, yes,” Sid interjected. “And if you’ll have us, we’d be happy to stay. Can get that last bit of tiling done with Snaf before we go.”

“I like it! And we’ll have a bit of wine to celebrate your being home,” Snafu said to Eugene, and kissed him before hopping off the lounge and towards the kitchen. “In fact, wine first, picture hanging, then dinner, then tiling?” 

“Sounds like a dangerous combination,” Eugene said. “But why not, if we’re celebrating. How badly can it turn out?” 

Two bottles of wine between them all, and the rest of the night later, they managed to get the picture inside and resting safely against a wall in the front hall, and the guest bathroom was left mercifully untouched by any drunken work. 

Despite it, Snafu had never been happier. Eugene was home, there was good food, good wine, good friends, a gorgeous gift, and the house looked lovely. He couldn’t ask for more. 

[oldloveatz]

dance with me | san

— TYPE: prince!au, somewhat requested, princess!reader, fluff

— WORD COUNT: 2.8k

— SYNOPSIS: the annual grand ball takes place in your father’s palace, and on that night you meet a particular someone you become very interested in.

— MESSAGE: hi, i see that you’re getting so many requests so idk if you’re still accepting them but if yes, then i would like to request anything san related. it’s completely up to you to choose the plot, i just need more san scenarios in my life �� also, you’re such an amazing writer and my fav blog on tumblr so yeah, ty for taking your time to write for us!

— AUTHOR’S MESSAGE: so thank you for requesting a san scenario and thank you so much for reading all of my stuff im devastated ): but since you didn’t request anything specific, i took one idea from a few ideas i came up with and wrote it for san! please enjoy this omg im so sorry if it’s bad

you dreaded the grand ball your father throws annually. you had to get in a very tight corset (tight enough to constrict your lungs) and dance with strangers in some painful heels. on top of that, you had to wear a very tiring dress which you know your parents had picked for you to wear. it wasn’t that you hated the grand ball, you liked them, in fact. they were a bit socially tiring, however. you were constantly pulled left and right by your mother and father to introduce you to some family that you care less about. they weren’t even the same family you meet each year!

“a-are you sure you don’t want to wear your hair up for the ball?” your helper, elena, asked. she was verifying the clothes, shoes, makeup and accessories, hairstyle and even perfume that you’d be wearing for the ball. she offered to wear your hair up, but you insisted to not even touch your hair. “oh, your father-“

“i don’t care!” you exclaimed, which frightened her a little. “i’m sorry. but just sprinkle glitter in it, it’s fine.”

“i understand your frustrations,” elena said, pulling your velvet stool to sit down. and she was right, you were frustrated. frustrated that you had to wear whatever she was ordered to dress you in. “but, listen to me, dear. the ball will be a fun experience for you to meet other people.”

“oh, i meet so many people,” you cut in. “way too many people for my liking.”

all elena could do was sigh, thinking of another response to your remark. “alright, i’m not going to touch your hair. but you will wear your cor-“

“please, lose the corset,” you insisted. “if i breathe in that fucking-“

“language,” she warned. no wonder they soft-banned you from going outside. you were learning foul words from the people outside the castle you lived in, which was also alright because you liked them.

“well, if i breathe in a corset, either it will break or my ribs will,” you explained, hopefully it was enough to convince her to not put you in a tightly tied corset. god, you didn’t want to spend 45 minutes just putting on a corset. “and puncture my lungs, which you all do not want to happen.”

“alright, fine,” elena said, getting up from the raspberry-colored velvet stool to cross off the hairstyle and the corset from her list. “anything else you want to lose?”

“uh, yes,” you started, getting up from your king sized bed and beginning to pace across your shiny, marble floor. the reflection perfectly mimicked the ceiling, a clean tiled dark ceiling with gold intricates. the walls were white and the familiar intricates like the ceiling. you loved your room, in fact you spend a lot of time in your room. “i’d like to lose the heels.”

“but, darling they’re designer heels,” elena said, completely unfazed with the things you wished to not wear.

“so? my feet are murdered by the end of the day if i wore those heels,” you reasoned. the sound of scratches on her clipboard definitely fueled your victory, a smile playing on your lips. “and i think that’s it. yeah, that’s it.”

“rather plain, but simple,” she commented, clipboard in hand before heading for the door to leave. “lunch is ready, by the way.”

“oh, sweet.”

your darling parents discussed the ball for tonight, giggling to each other as if it was the first ball they had ever organized. your parents were the king and queen of the land, holding power but they take advantage of the said power by being kind to those who lived outside the castle. they were loved by many, which is why it was perfectly fine for you to step outside and spend the day out for hours. and you have done it.

after lunch, you bid your goodbye to go hang out with your friends (or non-royal as those who worked for your family would say). the village was a sight to behold, and you adored seeing paintings of talented artists that live within the village. you bought about fifty paintings, maybe more.

“y/n! i thought you said you weren’t coming by today?” your friend, jaehyun, asked, getting up from his spot and giving you a side hug.

you trusted jaehyun, he was the boy who helped you become comfortable with the world outside the walls of your castle. he introduced you to his friends, befriending the girls and the boys easily and connecting with them in an instant. jaehyun whistled at his friends, stealing their attention from the marbles they were playing with and running up to you and him.

“i wasn’t, but they let me go out today,” you told him with a smile. “i came to give you an invitation actually! i stole one from my parents, and you are invited to the ball tonight.”

you earned groans from the invitation, as for sure the others wanted to go too. you placed a finger on your lips, hoping to shush them and they did.

the enveloped was gorgeous. it was parchment-colored, beige and blotched. the sound that it makes when it gets touched was the most satisfying thing ever, and hearing jaehyun fumble with a fancy royal-like envelope was making you nervous. you didn’t want him to drop the letter. it was sealed by a custom-made wax and stamp for your family, and the wax was sparkling under the bright sunlight as it was mixed with gold particles. you did the honors of writing his name at the front, though calligraphy was difficult to do so you printed his name in your normal handwriting.

jaehyun lifted the flap carefully, hoping he wouldn’t ruin the wax at all and whispered a ‘yes!’ when he didn’t tear it apart. you snickered at his action, covering your mouth and the others mirrored your action. “what does the letter say?”

“it just says i’m invited to the castle,” jaehyun said, stuffing the letter back into the envelope in a delicate manner. he then slipped the letter into his pants’ pockets, patting it from the outside to make sure it wasn’t folded in any way. “i’ll see if i can go. i.. i don’t have anything nice to wear.”

“it’ll be lovely if you can,” you told him with a smile, placing a hand on his shoulder to reassure him that it was okay if he couldn’t attend. “i won’t hate you if you couldn’t. plus i have all the time to come out here and hang out with you guys! a ball means nothing.”

you went back a couple of hours later to get ready for the ball, silently cursing in your head each step on the track on your way back. the guards opened the tall, dark oak doors for you and you stepped in, the sound of dry track silenced as soon as your shoes met the smooth, marble floor. the environment of the castle was much different than the village. the castle was huge, but echo-y and quiet - obnoxiously quiet. on the other hand, the village was small, but a lot of children run around and kiosks that contained things to catch attention from anyone. you liked both on some days.

“it is about time you returned from your trip,” elena said, standing at the bottom of the grand staircase with her iconic clipboard wrapped in her arm. she had been waiting for you to get home, rather patiently but as soon as she watched you enter through the tall doors, all of her contained patience went down the drain. “shall we get started then, dear?”

“do we have food? i’m quite famished,” you told her, hoping to get through with this excuse and stall. but, elena saw through your excuse and shook your head. you weren’t too hungry anyway, you hoped for the dress to be loose enough for you to eat later on. you and elena headed up the grand staircase, hand resting on the gold-engraved wooden railing for support as you made your way up in your room.

elena had sent you to the bathroom to take a long, refreshing bubble bath. so, you sat in the bathtub filled with bubbles that spilled over the tub. your eyes stared blankly at the white-tiled wall, ignoring the anxiety building up in your chest but also the excitement slowly mixing with the feeling. of course, you were excited. maybe there will be a cute boy you’d want to dance with, or other people you’d eventually want to meet. it wasn’t like you had a choice though, your parents will pull you left and right meeting families you didn’t even know existed.

your thoughts were disrupted by elena pounding her fist on the door, “hurry up, darling! we still have to get you in our dress!”

you stepped out of the tub, grabbing the beige towel sitting on a golden rack next to the tub and began patting it throughout your body and rubbing it around your hair to soak up any water in your mop of hair. you wrapped your body in your soft plush robe, tiptoeing back into your room where everything was set up around your vanity.

elyssio was standing by your vanity with a hairbrush with a smile on his face, and you didn’t have the heart to tell him that you wanted to do something simple for the night. you hoped elena told him, maybe that’s what the hairbrush is for. “hey, elyssio! it’s nice to see you again.”

“very nice to see you too, princess!” elyssio said, placing the big hairbrush down on the surface of the vanity that had been littered with various boxes filled with shiny and elegant jewelry. you looked over at the headless mannequin standing still a few feet away from the vanity, and you fell in love with your dress. it was everything you had dreamed of wearing. “your parents did a very good job picking your dress for the night.”

“they took note of how you reacted to each dress they picked for every ball occasion,” elena said, sitting on the velvet stool located at the foot of your grand bed. you smiled, taking the skirt-part of the dress in your hand, and god you were thankful the dress was just right for you. “so, do you want to get the hair and makeup out of the way or get in the dress first?”

the process of the get-up ran faster than you thought, as you were in the empty hallways wandering with your dress on complete with the slightly elevated flats, waiting for the ball to start. it was 7:15 in the night, and guests were expected to pile in the grandeur room for the ball. you wanted to kill time, so you went into the kitchen to see what kinds of hors d’oeuvre and appetizers they had for the guests.

“kingston, what are you cooking for tonight?”

“hey! you’re not supposed to be here!” kingston pushed you out of the kitchen. “we don’t want you smelling like the food. you’ll see them when it’s out.”

you wandered the walls again, deciding to head to the library to kill time by reading the big books you had been putting off to the side. you’ve read the the smaller ones, at least. you grabbed the nearest big binded book in sight and sat yourself down on the velvet chair, opening up the hard cover and reading the very first page. you thought that you’d just fall asleep, assuming it’d be a boring book mostly about the geography of the earth, but that really wasn’t the case.

you had been in the castle’s library burning through time by reading the book you had grabbed, clearly and deeply into the topic of geography. what was it about the book that made the concept of geography so interesting? you were so into the book that you hadn’t realize the ball started. you wouldn’t have known if elena hadn’t gone in the library to tell you.

the room was filled with many people, a few minutes in when it started. more and more citizens and visitors made their way through the door, hearing a lot of ‘woah’s and such. as the usual, you were introduced to royal families. handshakes and smiles and nods had already gotten you worn out, but you carried on.

you pranced to the food section, grabbing a ceramic plate decorated with faint pink flowers and gold specks all around it and began walking down the table to see what the chefs had to offer. you ended up not bothering to ask what food is what, whatever looked good to you - you took it.

“that’s a lot of food you’re getting there,” a voice said from behind you. upon turning around, the owner of the voice must be an angel. he was a bit tall, he had the eyes of the fox and cheekbones made from the greek gods and goddesses. he had think yet so pink lips, if he told you he was an alien you’d believe him. how could someone be so gorgeous? “are you the king and queen’s daughter?”

“u-uhm, yes- yes i am,” you stuttered, moving on along down the table. you glanced at what he was wearing, and gosh was he a gem. the only difference between his suit and the other young boys in the room was he was adorned in gold chains, from head to toe. even his ears were littered with gold. “what’s your name?”

“san,” he replied. you took note of how nice his voice sounded in your ears, you wanted to hear more of him. “i don’t think we’ve met yet.”

“yeah, i don’t think so either,” you responded, reaching the end of the table and standing off to the side. you wondered if you should wait for him and talk more. “i’ll see you around..?”

san turned his head from the bread and butter presented in of him, flashing a small smile in his face that made your heart thump like a rabbit’s foot. he nodded, “you will.”

you sat down to eat, fending off your parents’ random arm grabs to leave you alone because you were eating. you sure got a lot of food, some of it you didn’t even get to finish at all. maybe you were rushing to find him, maybe that was it.

“you’re done eating, princess?” elena asked, dabbing on a handkerchief to her lips to get rid off of the sauce from the spaghetti. you nodded, dusting off any food on your dress and yourself to make sure you don’t make a fool out of yourself when you see san again. you checked your hair too. “you look great, sweetheart. go out there and dance.”

“thank you, i will!” you hopped off the platform which your table had been on top of and began to walk around, simply disguising it as meeting other families and attendees, but you only wanted to look for san.

you found him in a group of girls, gushing and poking his gold-adorned suit as they giggled so loudly. you didn’t think much of it and approached san, tapping on his shoulder to get his attention. he swiveled around, a smile creeping on his face as if he knew you’d come to him.

“oh my gosh, it’s the princess..”

“winnie, shut up..!”

“hey,” he greeted with his cute smile. you noticed his dimples, smiling even more at this. “i knew you’d come see me.”

you blushed, knowing that he had known you’d come for him. “uhm.. yeah.. so-”

“does the princess want to dance with the prince?” he asked, the girls behind him muttering to each other and gasping. your eyes peeked at them, before training them on san. his hand reached out to you, offering it for you to take and dance with him.

you took his hand, and in an instant he led you to the dance floor among other pairs dancing with each other. he grabbed your other hand, placing it on his shoulder and attaching his hand onto your waist. your hands still intertwined together when he offered you his hand. you got the idea that he must be a romantic person.

“where have you been all my life?” you whispered, eyes so lost in the void of his eyes. a smirk appeared on his lips, that later transformed into the sweetest smile you have ever seen. you just thought out loud, and felt so embarrassed that you said that to him. but.. san didn’t mind. “i’m sorry i said that.”

“i was just going to ask the same thing,” he said, his eyes were soon beginning to fill the dark void with adoration, like falling in love at first sight. “i’m glad you came to me tonight.”

jaehyun witnessed them dance together to the slow and perfect classical melody, his heart slowly falling off of its place. he left the venue, knowing that she was never interested in him in that way in the first place.

[goldinkmaknae]

Rainy Days

This is my first story and if you like it I'd appreciate you following me so I could know if I should do this more!!

Prompt: Use the lyrics of your favorite song as the basis of a short story.

The song I will be using is: HEIZE~ You, Clouds, Rain

Word count- 5139

Yoongi X reader

Genre- coffee shop AU, slight fluff, angst

summary-You are a cafe owner and one day you pay yoongi to play at the small cafe, thanks to him your company gets a big boost and you both become great friends, maybe even more~

“She’s trouble Sal, please trust me.”

Those words were the ones I never thought I’d regret saying. He never knew what I knew about her, the reason she wanted to be his. The only thing I remember from the day he left me was the rain and the feeling of losing something you loved, to someone who didn’t deserve it.

“Is the replacement pianist here?” I questioned my coworker while I slid my apron on. The day was cloudy, rain tapping against the window pane.

In spite of the gloomy atmosphere outside, there were a few people in my cafe eating breakfast with smiles on their faces. I always enjoyed making others happy with the food we created, and I worked hard to help the cafe create a homey atmosphere. With live music, what could be better than that?

“The replacement will be here soon, his name is Min Yoongi,” Rhea replied, leaving quickly to take the orders of people who had arrived at the tables near the door.

 Today will be a good day, I promised myself.

“Oh, Sal called again, I forgot to tell you.” She came back behind the counter to gather the coffee that was recently made, her eyes flickering in my direction every few seconds, gauging my reaction. “He said it’s important for you to talk to him.”

The bell above the door chimed, and the pianist strode through it, keyboard held easily in one hand. He was obviously taller than me I could tell even from this distance, but it’s not like that was a difficult feat if I’m being honest. As he shrugged his hood off, I noticed his hair was a platinum color. When he looked up at me, our eyes met, and I smiled sheepishly, waving softly at him. There was a hint of a smile on his face, and I briefly wondered how dazzling it would be like when he smiled for real. I took his entrance as an excuse to disregarded the current conversation we were having in favor of helping him set up.

“You must be Min Yoongi,” I stuck my hand out and he took it gently between his. His fingertips were cold, thanks to the weather. “My name is y/n. I run this place.” “

Ah, it’s nice to meet you.” He spoke as gently as he shook my hand, and I was surprised at how deep his voice was. He quietly began creating his set up and busied himself with that, so I decided to get him some coffee in hopes that he would cheer up.

“I don’t know how you like your coffee, but I brought you a cup. Surely it’ll warm you up.” I set the creamer and sugar next to his mug on the table. My face flushed, and I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “Actually, I’m not even sure if you like coffee, but hopefully my guess was correct.”

Yoongi shot me a gummy smile, “I love coffee.” He grabbed a couple of sugar packets and sprinkled them in after the creamer, "Actually, I’ve been told I’ve got a lot in common with a great cup; I’m cute and just a little bit bitter.”

I giggled at his ridiculous joke, with a little more zealous than was probably necessary, “I can’t say I see the resemblance.” 

He scoffed, but was grinning none the less, “That hurts, y/n.”

***

Yoongi had quite a large fanbase, and it felt that every time I thought there couldn’t be more, another fan would home sauntering through the doorframe to support him. It was easily one of our most successful days.

In the few minutes I spoke to him between songs and skirting around the cafe as I attended to customers, I understood exactly why they adored them. He was quiet, more so than most people, but this wasn’t news to me. I didn’t talk much to myself, except at work where I held a different, personable personality toward customers. In spite of this, Yoongi was really easy to talk to, somehow chirping quirky one-liner to me when I least expected it. He was actually rather charismatic.

Yoongi had left the bathroom after his long day of playing, as the final customer left the cafe, and I began cleaning the counters. However, not long after I began, the door chimed. 

“I’m so sorry, but it’s past our hours!” I motioned toward the windowpane where our closing sign hung, as I gave the countertop the last scrub before turning to address them, “I was just about to close—“

I all but choked on my words. Sal stood in the doorway, and his drunken state vibrated through the cafe. I involuntarily shivered. He only got drunk when something bad happened. 

“Y/n.” He hiccuped, lowering his voice while he limped closer, “I should’ve trusted you. I should’ve listened…she lied to me, about everything.” His tear stained cheeks formed a sad smile and he left only a few inches between us. His breath was harsher now, and I could practically smell the soju rolling off him in waves. He had obviously drunk too much.

I took a few steps back, creating some space for us. “What are you doing here?” There was a slight crack in my voice, betraying my attempts to sound strong. 

“I’ve loved you y/n, I know you feel the same,” he gripped my white shirt and dropped the empty bottle he had in his hand. It clattered harshly against the wood flooring and rolled a few feet away, echoing in the silence. “I was just too stupid…you would never betray me like her. I didn’t know that before, but I do — I do now.”

“You’re not making any sense,” I tried getting out of his grasp, twisting my body away from his. He only pulled me in tighter. “Stop it, Sal. You’re scaring me.” But as his grip continued to tighten, my reflexes kicked in, and I wrenched my body away from his with all my might, as chairs clattered against each other while he staggered back, attempting to regain his balance.

“Get out of my store.” I pointed at the door, my voice strong. The tears I had tried to hold back were threatening to escape, but I didn’t move to wipe them away. I wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. 

He stumbled toward the door, muttering a simple, “I’ll be back.” 

The breath I was holding back freed itself and I began moving the chairs back into their original place, tossing the bottle into the recycling bin with more force than I intended. It cracked and a few chips scattered in the bin.

“Are you okay y/n?” The sound of his voice made me jump, a chair clashing with the wood floor, and I leaned back to stare at him.

Yoongi stood in the hallway, a hand rubbing at the back of his neck, “I didn’t mean to overhear everything, but that man seemed to be very drunk and I wasn’t sure if he was going to give you trouble.”

The genuine concern in his voice made me quickly wipe the stray tears away, and I smiled back in the assurance that I was fine. “I need to pay you for today!” I clapped my hands and walked behind the counter, counting the money and handing him his share.

He smiled softly, seeming to understand I didn’t want to talk about anything. As he opened the door to the cafe, Yoongi stalled, twisting his body in the doorway, 

“I don’t want to push my luck, but should I come back tomorrow?”

“Only if you’re available. Today was one of the better day’s we’ve had, so I would actually love it if you’d do so.”

He grinned, “Sound’s good then. Same time?”

I nodded, and he said goodbye before disappearing through the doorway.

Silence overwhelmed the cafe, as I turned the lights off and marched upstairs, my dog Marvin whining the minute he heard the final step creak under my weight.

As I unlatched the door to my studio apartment, he ran in circles at my feet, as my fingertips grazed his glossy white and grey speckled coat.

“How are you, Marv?” I asked, and he whined in response, leading me toward his bowl with a pointed look. “I know you’re hungry buddy, gimme a sec.” I pulled a can of wet food from the cabinet and mixed it half and half with his dry food. 

He spun in circles as I walked to set his bowl down, and I smiled briefly at his enthusiasm, patting his head.

I glanced around my kitchen and when I realized I wasn’t remotely hungry, I walked into my room in a dazed state. As I set my phone to charge, it connected to my Bluetooth speakers, and as luck would have it, I heard the opening notes of a song that meant a lot to me. I could hear Marvin’s approaching as his nails clicked against the wood floor, and his furry head bobbed into view.

He stared at me, head tilted to the side, ears at attention, no doubt listening to the way my breath was coming in short, shallow spurts. The memories I associated with that song were coming back and before I knew it I was in tears. 

He threw his front paws on my bed, creeping closer to rest his chin on my shoulder, and I cuddled with him as my vision went blurry.

The memories may not matter to me anymore, at least not in the way they used to, but they’re mine and I can’t forget them. For the first time in awhile, I thought to myself that it was alright to be sad today, that I had a reason. ***

Yoongi appeared again for his fifth performance, and although I thought the first week he appeared was packed, it was nothing compared to today.

“I see your little group loves you,” I praised him, nudging his shoulder as I set the coffee he asked for on the table next to his seat.

“What can I say? My music is irresistible.” he laughed as he finished setting up his piano in the same spot he had yesterday.

“Yeah, I’m still not sure I know what you mean.” I giggled softly.

“You’re a tough crowd to please, y/n.” He tiled his head to the side and eyed me, “As a true musician, I’m always interested in improving my appeal. What would you say is missing from my repertoire?”

I tapped my chin thoughtfully, “It’s actually pretty well rounded, but I think we’re missing a little bit of that childhood innocence.”

“Childhood innocence?” His eyebrows knitted themselves together as they flew into his hairline. “Care to elaborate?”

I tugged subtly on the lanyard sticking out of my pocket, it was littered with soot sprites, stars, and a certain silver and blue dragon. His eyes drifted to where my hand was fidgeting. “I can think of a couple Studio Ghibli films that could serve as inspiration for next week’s performance.”

“Oh really? I’m not so sure I’m familiar with these movies,” though the upturned corner of his lips said otherwise.

“I’ve got them all on DVD.” I shrugged, picking up the plates and mugs from the table a few feet away.

“If this is an elaborate ruse to invite me over,” he teased, “You have my full attention.”

“Actually, I was leading up to lending you the movies. But seeing as you’re so eager to spend time with me after hours, I might have to reconsider.” With that you drifted away, taking the used dishes and utensils back into the kitchen.

Joking around with Yoongi was far easier than I would have ever expected. Banter bouncing back and forth between us like some invisible game of ping pong.

With a few minutes to spare between taking orders and running checks, I found that my eyes were focused on Yoongi far more often than was probably normal. As his fingers slid easily across the white keys, and the notes drifted out of his keyboard, it was easy to see just why he had such an eager following. His music seemed to lighten up the cafe, and the love I felt reverberate through his music was no joke.

“Seriously your music is amazing!” Gina exclaimed as the rest of the employees gathered up their belongings, getting ready to leave for the day. “You’re telling me you wrote that last piece yourself?” Rhea asked just as intrigued.

Yoongi simply shrugged, his cheeks turning the slightest tinge of pink. “I mean, yeah. But it’s not a big deal.”

I rolled my eyes, though the smile on my face betrayed me. He was humble too? Honestly, did he have any flaws?

I was tending to the last couple of customers we had, hoping to close up before eight when the bell chimed.

“I’m sorry but—“ My breath caught in my throat when I saw his figure standing in the door. “What did I tell you about coming here?” I walked over quickly, pushing Sal out the door.

He gripped my wrist harder than he had the day before. “Listen to me y/n,” his voice feigned sincerity, but his body language was fierce.

“No!” I said strongly, attempting to keep my voice even,  so as not to disturb the remaining customers. "I’m done listening to you. Just because she left you, doesn’t mean I’ll just be here to comfort you. I’m done.” I slammed his hands away from me and began walking back to the counter.

I felt Yoongi’s eyes watching my every movement, they had been since the minute Sal walked through the door with a scowl on his face. Sal turned me around forcibly and slapped me across my cheek, it burned like hell. My teeth clenched, and my fist fell into a ball, but before I could return the favor, Sal was knocked to the ground. Yoongi was standing over him, his eyes narrowed and voice strong, “Leave her alone.”

“Who the hell is this?” Sal growled, hopping up and shoving Young’s shoulders. “Your new little boy toy?”

“It’s none of your goddamn business.”

“I’m sorry, was I talking to you?” Sal shoved his shoulders again, hands gripping Youngi’s shirt.

Yoongi swayed in Sal’s hands, though something told me he could easily break free if he wanted to. Biting back a smirking as he glanced at the ground, he rolled his head up to face Sal. I could tell his patience was growing thin. “You asked, I answered. That’s kind of how questions work, isn’t it?” Yoongi shoved Sal, and he stumbled into the countertop. Yoongi turned to face me, “You alright, y/n?”

Sal chuckled darkly before taking a swing at Yoongi, and before I could process what was happening their fists were flying.

“Both of you stop!” I pulled Yoongi off of Sal and looked at his bloody lip, while the other workers held Sal back.

“Go upstairs, okay? I’ll be there in a second.” You slid your lanyard into his hand, and Yoongi huffed, his brown eyes dark, but nodded and silently marched up. I turned to face Sal, "I think its best that you leave Sal. Don’t come back.”

When I got to the top of the stairs I found Yoongi leaning against the wall to my door, fiddling with the keys in his hands.

I softly took it from him and unlocked to the door, pulling it open and motioning for him to follow me inside. He sheepishly did so as I walked him into the small bathroom. I pointed toward the toilet and he willingly took a seat while I sank onto my heels, rummaging through the cabinet for my first aid kit.

“So, why’d you do it?”

“I don’t like seeing women being treated poorly.” He muttered.

I grabbed the tin, before turning toward Yoongi. In the small bathroom, I situated myself between his legs and tilted his chin up with my fingertips so I could get a better look at his wound. Although he seemed like he was relaxed on the edge of the seat, I could see a fire burning in his eyes. I inspected the sliver of a cut on his cheek, and the split on his mouth, and began to tap his lip with the medication. As I began to clean his wound, he winced from the pain at first, then stared at me while I continued.

“Thank you, but I could’ve taken care of it. I can’t let you get hurt in my cafe.” I shot him an apologetic smile, half joking. "It’s not good for business.”

“Oh, is that all? And here I thought you were worried about me.” He cracked a smile, and I was relieved to see he wasn’t entirely frustrated.

“In all seriousness, you shouldn’t have pushed his buttons like that. He wasn’t worth it.”

“What? Sardonic humor is just my way of relating to the world. It’s not my fault he couldn’t appreciate it.”

Yoongi was silent as I threw the used supplies in the trash over his shoulder.

“He’s an ex-right?”

“Not exactly.”

“But, you had liked him? Or he had liked you?” His forehead wrinkled as he tried to piece it together.

"He was my best friend. But you’re right, I did have feelings for him.” *** Three days later, it was Tuesday evening and there was a knock at my door. When I glanced through the door’s window I caught a glimpse of platinum, and I knew right away who it was.

Yoongi smiled sheepishly when I pulled it open.

“What’s up?” I eyed him as I glanced at the clock on the counter at the bottom of the stairs.

“I called you, but you didn’t answer,” He shrugged, “I just wanted to ask you something.”

I pulled my phone out of my pocket. 3 Missed calls from Yoongi.

“Sorry, it was my day off. Y’know, you could’ve left me a voicemail. You didn’t have to come all the way over here.”

“I don’t leave messages. If I wanted to talk to a machine, I’d talk to my VCR.” The corners of his mouth quirked upward.

“Who has VCR’s nowadays?” My nose wrinkled. 

He waved me off and closed his eyes, “That’s not the point. I really just wanted to see if you’d like to hang out?”

I pulled the leg of my pajamas in a nervous fidget. “Depends on what you have in mind?”

“Now listen,” Yoongi put on his most convincing voice as he continued, “Rhea told me you have a day off tomorrow, too. So here’s what I was thinking: an all-nighter, you and me. First, one to fall asleep owes the other breakfast.”

I paused, acting like I was weighing the thought in my mind. Though, if we’re being honest, I’d already made it up the second I opened the door to him.

“You’re on, Yoongi.” I sidestepped and he passed through the entryway, smug grin on his face. “I hope you make good french toast because that’s my favorite thing to eat for breakfast.” He eyed me, as I continued, "I just got up from a nap, so I’m fully ready to kick your ass.”

If we’re being honest, I wasn’t sure how I ended up watching Studio Ghibli films with Yoongi. I wasn’t even sure how I’d let Yoongi into my apartment so easily, normally I’d have fought tooth and nail; made up some excuse about taking Marvin to the vet the next day for his check-up, because there was no way in hell I was letting Yoongi stay overnight, not so he could see what I looked like when I was sleeping, drool pooling on the pillowcase and snores emanating from my chest. But all the same, everything with him was weirdly easy, and just like that he had wormed his way in.

“You know what I like most about people?” He asked as he rubbed Marvin’s temples, and my dog sank into his touch.

“Hm?”

“Their pets.”

I shoved his shoulder. “If you want Marv, you can keep him. He sheds too much, and snores like a horse.”

“Horses snore?” Suga chuckled, and I simply shrugged in return, as I popped the cork off the wine glass.

“Do you want some?”

“Aish. You’re making this too easy. You’re totally going to fall asleep by the time we’re done with the second movie.”

I stuck my tongue out at him. “Bet. I can handle my alcohol. Now, do you want some or not?”

“I’m not really much for wine, but if you’re the one who’s giving it to me, how could I say no?” *** Three glasses of wine later, and I could feel my cheeks growing rosy. I may or may not have bluffed when Yoongi had teased me earlier, but whether or not that was obvious to his own ruddy face was yet to be determined.

The movie was long forgotten, fading to the background after I caught him quoting a portion of it back to me, and called him out. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. It was a lucky guess!” 

“Lucky guess my ass. Just what else don’t I know about you?”

This had somehow transformed into us asking one another questions, in an attempt to bond as he put it. Though most of the questions he posed seemed like they were meant to make me laugh, rather than actually produce a conversation of substance. Which was actually all the better, seeing as I had too much time to think these last couple of days. 

“Y/n, if you were a dinosaur, what kind would you be?”

I rolled my eyes and took another sip, “Next question.”

Yoongi raised his hands in mock defense, “I understand, some questions are just too personal,” Yoongi deadpanned, “I apologize.” 

“What’s the point of these questions anyway?” I laughed. 

“To get to know each other, duh.”

“Fine, do you believe in aliens?”

He scoffed, “Not a chance!”

I motioned toward the door, “Get out, I don’t have time for people who don’t believe in aliens.”

“Oh no, I can tell I just opened a can of worms.” Yoongi shook his head, grinning into his glass. “Let’s just agree to disagree.” His face was suddenly serious he watched the couple onscreen. “What was it you liked about him?”

I shrugged, glancing at the new healing cut on Yoongi’s lip. Far too angry with the ways Sal behaved, nothing of substance came to mind. 

“Okay…then what is it that you fall in love with in others, in general?”

“Details.” I answered simply, “I fall in love with details.” I bit my lip and stared at the glass to keep myself from spilling everything I wanted to say. I fall in love with things like your gummy smile, and the way you look when you’re lost in the music. 

“So what was it about him then? What were the details?”

My forehead creased as the frozen fruit swirled in my cup. “It’s stupid, but it probably was never about him, really.” I sat up straighter, my legs folding criss-cross underneath myself, and Yoongi mirrored me, sitting straighter as if to show me I had all of his attention. “I’ve always been hungry for love, I think. Just once, I wanted to know what it was like to get my fill of it — to be fed so much love that I couldn’t take any more. I just wanted to be enough for someone. Just once. And I think I thought that if I gave enough of myself, got close enough, that he’d have to like me too, never mind that we’re incompatible because I care too much, and he doesn’t care at all.” 

“I understand the sentiment,” Yoongi supplied, “It’s difficult when you feel like you share so much of yourself with others, and can only get back a fraction of that in return.” He sighed and rested a hand on mine, “But, sometimes people don’t know how to share their affection with you, and you might come to find that it takes on the weirdest forms. Being loved isn’t always about grand gestures, or kissing in the rain; sometimes it’s giving a stranger coffee he never asked for, or learning hours worth of Studio Ghibli soundtracks because a girl mentioned she liked it once.” 

I slapped a hand over my face, “You didn’t.” 

He chuckled, “Maybe I did, so what? It doesn’t matter. The point is, he might not have looked at you the way you deserve, but there’s plenty of other people out there who show you they love you every day.”

Things were silent for a moment. “I feel guilty in some ways,” I sighed. “I’ve known him longer than anyone else, enough to know he’s been through a lot. So much as he might deserve it at this point, I still feel guilty.”

“Friendship isn’t about who you’ve known the longest, though. It’s about who walked into your life, said ‘I’m here for you’, and proved it. From the looks of it, he was doing a shitty job at that. You’re better off without him.” Yoongi frowned, “And for the record, you are going to be so much more than ‘enough’ for someone, someday. To be honest, you already are.” 

It wasn’t until Yoongi stretched a finger out, swiping a stray tear from my cheek that I realized what was happening. “I don’t even know why I’m crying right now,” I sniffled, hastily wiping the rest, avoiding eye contact with him. “It’s stupid.”

Yoongi tsked softly, his voice light, “I cry all the time! I cry in my bedroom, in the bathroom, in the hallway, in the elevator. In fact this morning, I woke up crying.” He gently pried my hand away from my cheek, turning me to face him.

“Sorry,” I muttered sheepishly. 

“Never apologize for being sensitive or emotional. It’s just a sign that you have a big heart and aren’t afraid to let others own a piece of it. Showing your emotions is actually a sign of strength if you ask me. ” I opened my mouth and shut it as quickly as he gave me a look, “Your feelings are valid. You have every right to feel whatever emotion you want. You aren’t being dramatic, and you aren’t over-exaggerating. You’re feeling. And that’s okay.”

I stared at Yoongi, his eyes searching my face as if he wanted to ensure every bit of what he said was absorbed. As his dark eyes took me in, I wondered briefly what they would look like if he fell in love. 

“How do you do it?” I asked softly.

“Do what?”

“Feel so comfortable with yourself. Walk around like you don’t give a damn about what anyone else thinks.”

“People will either like me, or they won’t. It took me twenty-something years to learn how to love myself, and I don’t have that kinda time to convince somebody else.” He shrugged, sending me a soft smile. “Though, now you have me curious. What did you think of me when you first saw me?”

That you were beautiful. “You had more talent in your hands than anyone else I’ve ever met.” 

“Well, that was anticlimactic.” 

I rolled my eyes, teasing him. “You’re not satisfied with my answer? I thought you didn’t care what anyone thought?” 

He shrugged, “I just don’t think it’s fair I had more of an opinion on you, than you had on me.”

“Okay…so what did you think when you first met me, then?” “I thought to myself, ’She looks like someone I’ll be writing about later.’” *** As it would turn out, Yoongi was far better at making french toast than I’d anticipated. And in the weeks that came and left, it turned out he could cook a myriad of other things too. 

He was patient and he was kind, and with each day we spent together I felt like everything that happened with Sal was light years ago. 

Don’t get me wrong, there were good days, and there were bad, but it seemed like the rain was finally coming to an end for me. For the most part. 

“Here, you need some cheering up.” Yoongi walked into the room as I stacked the last chair, and slid the lock on the front door shut. He connected his phone to my speaker, a music streaming through it moments later.

He grabbed my hands and put his own around my waist, tossing the rag in my hand on the counter. I tensed up, embarrassed. 

“I don’t know how to dance Yoongi.”

“It’s okay, I’ll show you!” he started counting, but our feet continued to collide. And he pulled his lip between his teeth in concentration.

“You don’t know how to dance either, do you?” I giggled. 

“Of course I do.” He huffed, continuing to count under his breath. 

“I thought musicians were supposed to have rhythm?” You teased.

“I took lessons once, okay? I know what I’m doing.”

“When was it, when you were five?” 

“I was seven, actually,” He muttered, pouting.

A few steps later and I gave up, taking his hands in mine and swinging his arms in a wild way causing him to laugh.

“That’s not fair I’m supposed to be the one making you laugh, not the other way around!”

I laughed at his ‘frustrated’ body language and we started dancing oddly. 

Yoongi smiles and swings me around, and for the first time in awhile, everything seems bearable.

[donaldresslerfanfic]

Cake Pop Lady.

Rating: M

Warnings: Strong Language, Sexual Content.

Word Count: 2322

Donald Ressler X OC Maggie Waters.

Chapter: Thirty Five.

Chapter Index

Story on Wattpad

Maggie.

I didn't wanted to get up as early as Don had gotten up to. I knew why his Mondays started suspiciously early, and this one wasn't any different. He had the commission thing at 9 but he was up and at it at six. Again, I knew why. His NA meetings were Mondays.

I don't know if he knew I knew he still went, because even I thought he had stopped going, that he thought he was too good for them. That wasn't the case, he'd been clean for almost two years now and ever since I detoxed him he attended the meetings.

I felt the bed sink in next to me, then Don's hand crawl up from my waist to the side of it. He leaned in and gave me a kiss on my jaw, then moved down to my neck.

"Remember the commission is at 9, hopefully I'll be done before lunch, I don't know how long it's going to take but I'll take a taxi now and you can come pick me up then"

"Okay" I groggily replied, feeling another kiss on my neck, then the bed move again as Don got off it and walked out.

I was about to drift to sleep for another hour or so when I heard my coffee machine start, it was an expresso machine and thus, it needed to be manually handled, meaning: someone was in my kitchen.

I stood up and walked down, thinking maybe Don was going to miss the meeting to get in time to the commission.

Donald wasn't in my kitchen, it was Raymond. Drinking from a little cup the coffee from the expresso machine and eating some croissants Don knew I liked, which I why he always brought them for me on the way back from his morning run.

He slid a cup to me as I fixed my hair a little.

"I'm planning on going back to bed, thank you" I said humorlessly "and yes, Ray, you can totally eat one of my croissants"

He chuckled and cleaned his fingers with a tissue.

"I need to speak with Agent Ressler"

"Too bad, he's not here"

"Then where?"

"Why do you want to talk to him?" I sat down in the stools near him.

"Agent Keen is being targeted by an assassin I'm sure the bureau would like to have behind bars"

I just sighed and crossed my arms over the table.

"He's in a meeting, NA meeting. It's a few blocks away from the White House, in Cardozo I think" I said reluctantly.

"Thank you" he replied shortly, then searched in his jacket and pulled out a  piece of paper. "There's a building in downtown DC that I need you to check out." He took a little piece of paper and handed it to me "it's an office building, it's the sixth floor I'm interested in. I need you to go there and inspect it thoroughly. Walls, floor tiles, accomodations, even the brand of tea the secretary drinks"

I just took the paper and sighed.

"We're close from finishing Maggie, I appreciate your help"

I nodded again and felt a tap on my shoulder as Raymond walked behind me and exited my house from the French doors of my back yard.

I took a shower and dressed up to go out and do this thing for Raymond. Might as well get it all over with before having to go and pick up Don.

The office building wasn't tall compared to the ones around, 20 stories, quiet side of town. Clearly old since the lobby was really marmoly. I climbed up the elevator to floor six with a purse to my wrist and my phone in my hand, opened on the camera app and taking photos of everything.

Senior year Drama Class don't fail me now.

"Hello" I leaned into the desk, measuring it's height with mine. "I need an appointment with Dr. Huffnaggel please"

The desk was made out of refined light brown wood, PVC exterior, on the other side there was a computer, the usual office supplies, no personal effects which was good, a chair in which the secretary was sitting on.

She looked up at me and gave me a warm smile.

"Yes of course, what's the motive of the consultation?"

"My uh" I pretended to sutter. The walls were pale white, the letters of the office behind the secretary read "Dr. Oren Huffnaggel, marital therapy and counselment." I had to get a good look at those to make out the font.

"My husband has just been admitted to the army and-" I still had it, I covered my mouth while tears striked down my eyes. "I'm just so anxious and I can't stoop thinking he's going to die" I whispered at the end. I quickly cleaned up my tears and gave her a weak smile "sorry, it's just been too hard for me, I haven't slept a full night in days and-" thank God she interrupted me, because I was running out of things to say

"Why don't you take a seat and I'll get you some water"

I nodded while she motioned and the seats behind me. As soon as she was out of sight I shamelessly took pictures of the place, the doors, the lights, the floor tiles, the couch, taking a closer one to get the fabric right, the decorations and such.

I sat down when I heard the click of heels coming back to the reception area and waited for the secretary to hand me a glass of water. I gave her a thankful nod as I took a little sip, then watched her go around the desk and write something down a paper. She doubled back and handed me a little card

"Given the urgency of the situation in can set up an emergency appointment at 10, how does that sound?"

I let out a little sigh of relief and took the paper

"Yes, that sounds amazing, thank you so much..." I waited until she told me her name

"Dorothy, and it's no problem. I'll see you tomorrow" she gave me a sweet smile and returned to the desk when another person came in. I left the glass in a side table and stood up.

Perfect, I could review the pictures today and tomorrow I could come back and settle some things if I'm not sure.

It was still early for me to go back home so I got to work. I printed the pictures, then headed to one of the providers Gina had when it came to costume made furniture. I spent maybe an hour looking through samples of fabric to get the one in the couches look the same, then I headed to the paint shop and got the colors for the walls outside and inside, the tiles were difficult because they were this hideous green and I didn't know if I'll be able to get the right pattern.

While moving from a shop to another I got a call from Don, saying that he was good to go. It was well pass lunch time but I was still hungry.

I drove down to the White House and parked a few blocks ahead, switching seats while I waited. Don liked to drive.

He came around a few minutes later, opening the door and handing me a little bag while he took a seat.

"What's this?" I said peaking inside.

"I don't know, it's one of those YOLO bags"

I laughed, throwing my head back a little, he chuckled a bit too. He could be really funny when he wanted to.

"You mean a swag bag?" I said between chuckles.

"Yeah one of those" he cut the corner and began driving "don't eat anything of it though, it might be poisoned" he playfully warned.

"Well, I'm hungry so might as well" I fished something out of the bag and gasped "I freaking love cake pops, you have no idea." I unwrapped the cake pop and gave it a bite. I hummed in content and looked at Don. He looked a little upset "you okay?" I said, touching his arm.

"We'll see. For now, Hamilton, Equinox? Where do you want to eat?"

"Au Bon Pain" I named, digging in the bag again.

There was only one spot in a side high table which we took, I ordered a César salad and Don ordered a turkey sandwich, and since it was lunchtime rush hour, we got served fast.

"So, how did it go at the thing?"

"I don't know, the Director and I stated out cases and-"

"The director of what?" I asked, stirring my salad around.

"The Director of Clandestine Services, who is also a member of the Cabal. I think he's the one Reddington has been targeting this whole time"

"Mmm" I hummed and nodded "and then what?"

"And then, Laurel Hitchin will take the case to the President and give us his decision"

"And she's what of the President?"

"She's the National Security Advisor"

"Is she the cake pop lady? Is that why you said they might be poisoned?" I joked, he smiled and looked up at the TV. Frowning, he took his phone out of his inner pocket and dialed.

I looked up and watched the screen above us. The Breaking News were about Liz Keen being shot and killed during an FBI raid that clearly hadn't happened under Don's approval. He said a few words on the phone, then hung up and turned back to his meal.

"That's not true right?" I asked, referring to Agent Keen.

"No, it's not. Navabi has been trying to reach me to get my opinion on how we will handle this new case Reddington gave us, seems like they did a good job."

"You've got a good team A.D Ressler" I teased, making him smile and finally look at me.

He'd been really distraught today and I had gotten so used to having him over me all the time, now that I had gotten nothing all day, I missed it.

I reached out and ran the back of my hand on his cheek, making him lean his head to the side and place a kiss on my hand.

"Hi" I said with a smile. He took my hand and gave it another kiss.

"I have a lot on my plate today" he said in an apologetic way. I gave him a little smile and nodded

"I know" I replied. He leaned in to give me one short kiss before standing up and clearing our bill.

While we walked out, hand in hand, I spoke up, making noise over the little uncomfortable silence.

"I was thinking to invite my sister this weekend, you know, I have to set up the guest bedrooms and such. I'm trying to keep myself occupied you know, since my boyfriend is never home"

When we were getting close to the car he pulled me by the hand and made my chest bump up to his, leading his hands to my waist.

"Your boyfriend is never home? Sounds like a real douchebag" I chuckled and led my hands to his neck

"He might, but he catches baddies for a living and looks very hot doing so. He's a keeper"

He smiled again, looking down at my lips and leaning in to kiss me slowly. He finished off with another kiss on my forehead and unlocked the door of the car.

"Want me to drop you off somewhere?" He asked. I climbed on the passenger seat and twisted my eyebrows at him.

"It's my car, so I'm dropping you off somewhere and move along with my business. I have a lot on my plate as well"

He snorted a little laugh and turned the engine on.

I knew he knew I was working with Raymond, and it was a little weird that he didn't ask. But I was relieved as well, I really didn't like lying to him.

That night he was not at all happy. As soon as I saw him walk to the kitchen where I was and tore off his tie, I worded myself carefully.

"Cake pop lady screwed you over?"

"Damn right she screwed me over, he set me up to work with the Director. Share Intel. He wants Liz and Reddington dead, and having him there while we're still in touch with them is going to make me give explanations I don't want to give. Everything Reddington is doing-"

"I'm going to stop you right there" I rudely interrupted "I'll listen, but first. Have you ever seen anything like this?" I pulled out a picture from a Manila folder and showed it to him. It was a statue of a stupid horse I had to get.

"No" he said a little upset "Maggie this is-"

"Important, I know, which is why I got the unimportant stuff out of the way. Now sit, I'll listen" I motioned at the stool next to me

While he sat down I turned off the computer and closed it, watching as how he unbuttoned  his shirt and sighed.

I stood up and placed my hand on his forehead, moving it sideways and messing up his hair a little. He pulled my by the waist while I rounded his shoulders with my hands.

"You've been doing great. And you're being forced to work and to trust people you don't want to. I'm confident in you Donnie, I know you'll pull through this"

I hugged him and made him rest his head on my shoulder as I ran my hand on his neck, putting a little pressure on the side of his spine, he was really tense and knotted up all over.

After a while he placed a kiss on my neck and pulled the computer closer to him.

"Here, I'll help you find that stupid horse"

[sanzochan]

The Librarians: Shape of My Heart

Title: Shape of My Heart Author: Alasse Fefalas (sanzochan) Fandom: The Librarians Characters: Eve Baird, Flynn Carsen Pairings: Eve Baird/Flynn Carsen Rating: K Word Count: 1358 words Summary: Eve comes home to find the kitchen in a mess and Flynn in the middle of it all. (Overdue) Valentine's day fic. Evlynn. One-shot. Shape of My Heart It had been a long day in the Library. It always was on special days like this. The five concurrent cases stretched out their resources, but the Librarians still managed to deal with them all. With the sun setting behind her, all Eve wanted to do was to go home and lie down on the couch. The first thing Eve was greeted with when she came home was a loud clanging of a metal pan dropping onto the floor, followed by a soft curse. A smile tugged at the corner of her lips. Flynn was home... and doing something in the kitchen. Intrigued, she tiptoed quietly over to her kitchen and peeked inside. It was a mess. Her granite kitchen tops were dusted with flour, bowls scattered all around, there were two pots on the stove, and what was that streak of red on her wall? Flynn stood in the middle of everything, his back to her. Despite the apron tied around his waist, there were still some brown streaks staining the back of his white shirt. His sleeves were folded up above his elbow, and she could see specks of white on his arm. "What happened here?" Eve wondered out loud, making Flynn jump in surprise. Flynn turned around quickly, his hands holding a piping bag. Immediately, he put it down on the counter. "Eve! You're home! You're home... early." "It's seven thirty. That's not early," she replied, chuckling at the state he was in. Flour covered his hair and cheeks, and there was some red batter stuck near his jaw. Grabbing a kitchen towel, she gently wiped it off his face, kissing the newly-cleaned spot. "Were you trying to bake a cake, or did a magical cake come in here and attack you? Because if it did, I honestly wouldn't be surprised anymore." Flynn grinned and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer to him. "If I blame the cake monster, do I still have to clean up?" Laughing, Eve cupped his face and kissed him, tasting chocolate in his mouth. "Nothing's gonna save you from clean up, Librarian." "It's entirely your mixer's fault," pouted Flynn. "It went crazy." "Yeah, the mixer," she repeated, rolling her eyes at him. Pointing at the streak of red across her wall, Eve asked, "How did you get food colouring on the wall though? That's going to be hell to take off..." "I was trying to get the tube open and accidentally squeezed too hard," he said sheepishly. "And don't worry. I'm sure Jenkins has something for that. I think we can use that solution he uses to get rid of the grout in the tiles..." "Hopefully that'll work. Red food colouring is the worst," she said, frowning. "So," she said, smiling at him, "what were you trying to make?" Eve tried to look around Flynn to see what he was making but gently pushed her away. "Don't look! It's not done yet!" he said quickly, turning her around and ushering her to the bedroom. "Go shower and change. I promise I'll be ready by the time you're done," he said, kissing her on her cheek. Exiting the room, he closed the door behind him. Eve noticed a royal blue dress laid out on the bed and chuckled. Quickly, she showered and got ready. Pulling on the sleeveless peplum dress, she checked herself in front of the mirror. The v of the dress ended just in the middle of her chest, leading down to the faux gold belt above the ruffles of her dress. The bottom half of the dress hugged her hips, ending above her knees. She couldn't help but grin to herself. Flynn always had good taste. With her make-up on, she knocked on her door. "Can I come out now?" There was a flurry of activity from beyond the door. Eve was curious, but she was also patient. Eventually, Flynn opened the door. He was fully dressed in a white suit and grey sneakers, his hair and face no longer covered in flour, and a stalk of a red carnation in his hand. "Hi," he greeted, almost gawking at her. "You look beautiful." "Thank you. Someone left a dress on my bed, you see. Thought I might give it a spin." "Good choice," he chuckled. Flynn held out the flower stalk. "For you, my Guardian." "Thank you, Librarian." Eve took the carnation and took a whiff of it. She had grown to love the flowers despite not liking them in the first place. It always reminded her of how he smelled. Flynn offered his arm. "Shall we take a very short walk to your dining room?" Laughing, Eve slipped her arm into his. Flynn led her down the apartment, explaining to her why he was late. "I'd have come home earlier to prepare everything, but Cupid's always been difficult to handle, even more so when he's drugged. We're so not letting him near any teenage covens any time soon. I sort of lost track of time trying to bake the cake because the mixer went a little crazy and maybe I shouldn't have tried baking and getting dinner ready at the same time. Who knew baking was so hard?! It's just food science! It shouldn't be this hard!" "Should've just followed Betty Crocker's recipe," tutted Eve. "Can't go wrong with eggs, oil and water. Plus, it saves you from-- whoa." Eve's dining area was decorated with strings of white fairy lights. On the table was a dinner setting for two, a small lit candle, a tray of baked pasta, an unopened bottle of white wine, and a heart-shaped cake with white frosting. On the cake was written, "Happy V-day!" in red icing. "I couldn't fit 'Valentine's' so I just shortened it," Flynn explained. "Did you, by any chance, get shot by Cupid's arrow or something?" asked Eve incredulously. "Technically no. I did get scratched by it just now accidentally but nothing happened. No side effects at all!" laughed Flynn. "Yeah, about that... for someone who doesn't really celebrate Valentine's day, this is really... something." Turning to him, she cupped his face. "Are you sure you're okay?" Chuckling, Flynn gave her a peck on her lips. "Trust me, Eve. I'm fine. I just thought it'd be nice to have a quiet evening together. Just the two of us." Eve felt her chest warming. With all the hecticness in their lives, it had slipped her mind how much of a romantic Flynn was. "Thank you," she said softly. "I love it." Beaming, Flynn pulled out a chair for her. As she sat down, she took in everything that was in front of her. She had to stifle her laughter when she saw that the cake was a little... odd. "Ah, you noticed the cake," mumbled Flynn as he sat down opposite her. "It's a little flat on one side, isn't it?" Eve smirked, still trying to contain herself. "I, err, forgot to turn it in the oven while I was preparing the pasta," he confessed. "Pasta la vista, heart." She shook her head at the bad pun but the smirk gave away that she loved it. "Hey, as long as it tastes good, I'm not complaining. It does taste good, right?" she inquired, raising an eyebrow at him. "I hope it does," he shrugged. "So... what do you think? A little too much?" Eve leaned over and took his hand, weaving her fingers through his. It was more than she had expected - in fact, she hadn't expected them to celebrate it at all. Giving him a warm smile, she rubbed her thumb against his. "It's perfect." Fin. -- A/N: Okay, I know I'm late (again, as always) but I had a lot of work to do in this period so I could only write at night. I hadn't expected this to have gotten so long... it was only supposed to be a drabble. Seriously how did it get this long?! I don't even know. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it! Give me your thoughts! Good, bad, anything! Thanks for reading! http://archiveofourown.org/works/9772463

[distances-explode]

Endlessly (16).

Hey wow hey I’m back at it w the fanfic writing. Had to take a break due to school stuff, but I swear I’m back now!

Masterpost 

(bc if you’re anything like me you definitely need to reread some stuff to get caught up)

Chapter title cred: Pierce the Veil

16. Hell Above.

Thursday.

It isn't long after his parents leave him that he realizes he's never going to get any sleep until he goes to see Alex. The drugs are beginning to wear off, and even though the comedown from a high is usually enough to lull him to sleep, he's wide awake. With no doubt that this is the cause of some divine intervention, he takes his sweet time with getting ready, looking through nearly every shirt in his closet, then taking another twenty minutes to find a pair of shoes.

His parents are downstairs supervising the staff's cleanup job when he comes down, sipping wine and talking quietly. "I'm going out." He barely looks at them as he walks past.

Bassam raises an eyebrow, but Joyce doesn't look the least bit surprised. "To Alex's, I presume?"

He stops at the door and turns to face his parents. "Yeah. Can't sleep." Jack shrugs.

Jack would swear his mother looked a little proud. "Good."

He nods, and swinging his keys in his hand, he heads for the door. "I don't know when I'll be back. I know, I know, 'don't come back until you and Alex have made u-"

"Wait!" Bassam calls just before Jack opens the front door.

He turns to see both of his parents looking at him nervously. "What?"

"You...you might want to fly to Alex's." Bassam says, looking towards the ground.

"More like 'you have to fly to Alex's.'" Joyce cuts in. "The throng of people you had here...well...they weren't too kind to your car."

Anger grumbles in Jack's chest. Fucking fantastic. "Right. Guess I'm flying there and going to the mechanic's tomorrow." He drops the keys right where he's standing before walking past his parents to the back door. Seeing the damage on his baby would only make him angrier and he didn't need to show up at Alex's ready to go on a rampage. If he remembered correctly, his temper was exactly what got him into this situation in the first place. Slamming the porch door behind him, Jack slides off his shirt, tying one of the sleeves to a belt loop on his jeans, and takes off.

As soon as he's in the air, his vague annoyance and nervousness seems to fade to the back of his mind. It doesn't disappear, but for once he feels like he can think about something that isn't Alex. Still, right now, Alex is the only thing he wants on his mind. Alex, so independent, so headstrong. On one hand, Jack wishes Alex would simply keep his mouth shut sometimes. However, he knows without Alex's need for Jack to know his moral superiority, he wouldn't be the same Alex.

And as much as they fight, as much as their differing values tear them apart, he knew Alex wouldn't be nearly as interesting to him without that difference, that fire that draws them near one another and burns them again and again. Maybe that makes him insane, loving the thrill of the chase, the fight - okay, that's totally what makes him insane, but Jack's not interested in questioning his mental stability tonight. The only thing he needs is for him and Alex to be okay again.

He's not too far from Alex's when he hears it. A shrill scream from an alley. A shiver runs down his back. Was it a murder? Rape? Judging by the group of laughter echoing from the same area, Jack would guess gang rape. Averting his direction, he promises he'll just watch for a few seconds before returning to his journey to Alex's. This is the kind of thing he lives for, and he can't just ignore it, as much as something in him tells him he should. As he approaches, excitement and another emotion he can't quite identify bubble in his stomach. He can hear another scream as he gets close, this time muffled. Good, he thinks. The only thing Jack hates more than angels are stupid criminals.

Jack hovers over the roof of the club beside the alley. He remembers this place. This club is where Alex and him first met. This alley is where Jack had possibly the best orgasm of his life. He lets his eyes close for a moment as he takes a deep breath. Good times, good times.

Another muffled scream is what reopens Jack's eyes. There, in the narrow alley, he counts 6 people. Five against one isn't particularly fair, but it does make for interesting entertainment. In Jack's experience, the more people there are against the victim, the harder they fight. They fight like they're Superman or some other ultra-strong being, and it never stops being amusing to watch their idiocy prolong their torture. He scoffs a little, and the victim's head snaps backward, eyes looking right at Jack.

For a split second Jack is surprised. There are very few humans that can hear a supernatural being while they're airborne. Most of them are prophets or very dedicated priests. Jack doesn't really have time to think about this, though, before the next second takes his breath away in cold, hard fear. Never in his life has he felt a wave of terror so consuming as this one, so paralyzing that he can't even blink. NO, every part of his body screams. With this comes the anger, hot and heavy, breaking through the layers of fear that kept him still. Immediately Jack falls into action.

The element of surprise as he dives off the building is enough to get two of the five on the ground. As their brains process who the fuck is this guy and how the hell did he jump off the roof like that, Jack pulls his pocket knife from the back pocket of his jeans and puts himself in between the criminals and Alex. "Get your wings out," Jack grunts, trying not to let the others hear, which becomes difficult when they start approaching them. "You guys better back the fuck off." Jack practically growls, holding his knife out. "You do not want to mess with me."

The five men exchange glances. "Aw, what, you his boyfriend?" The largest one smiles, a sinister tone tainting his words.

"I think that's the last thing you should be worrying about right now." Jack snaps back. Alex can see Jack's shoulders heaving as he tries to slide off his shirt as inconspicuously as possible. It ends up being easier than he thought it would be, given the gang had already ripped it up pretty well. And anyways, all of the attention seems to be focused on Jack for the time being. Although his heart is still racing, Alex knows he's safe now. Jack is a much better fighter than all of these men combined, he's sure. Even if it weren't for the supernatural speed and strength that came with being a demon, Jack has definitely been in more fights than all of these men combined. Alex has faith.

All of the men laugh at Jack. "In case you haven't noticed, faggot, we still outnumber you." The largest one takes one more step towards Jack before the demon's poise breaks.

Alex closes his eyes the second he sees Jack flinch, because as much as he wishes he's wrong about what's about to happen, he knows he isn't. However, his hands don't make for good earplugs. The clash of skin with metal makes him light-headed, and the groans of pain that litter the alleyway raise bile in his throat. He hasn't been touched yet, so he can only assume that Jack isn't one of those on the ground.

The fight seems to last forever, and more than once Alex feels a warm liquid seep into his jeans or spew across his arms. Mentally, he's commanding himself to take flight, to get away from this place in whatever way possible, but much like the fear that froze Jack earlier, Alex can't seem to feel his wings in order to propel himself into the sky. When his legs go out, he knows he's in shock.

The ground is eager to meet him, allowing cold gravel to stab him through his pants. It's uncomfortable, but he knows if he tries to move, he'll puke. His head is spinning, even with his eyes closed. The groans of pain are becoming few and far between, but every one still goes straight to Alex's heart. For a while, he doesn't even realize he's being spoken to over the misery of the alley. "Alex? Hey, it's over. We can leave here. You're safe." Jack attempts to soothe him, but all Alex can think is that he's about to throw up on Jack Barakat, the demon with the worst case of bipolar disorder that Alex has ever seen. He can't even gesture for Jack to move away, as a simple twitch of his fingers starts the rolls of nausea.

He tries to move, tries to turn his head to the side before he can be sick, but his body chooses this moment to fail him. As he gets sick all over himself and Jack, he can only hope he looks pitiful enough to get off easy; a few hours of yelling would hopefully suffice.

However, the shock of Jack pushing repositioning Alex and holding his hair out of his face nearly makes him sick again. Jack rubs his back as the aftershocks pulse through his abdomen, and only once he's been still for a minute does Jack whisper, "are you okay, now?" Alex nods his head weakly, still trying to figure out if this was actually Jack, or some really fucked up dream. "Then let's get you home. Can you fly?"

Alex tries, he really does, but when his wings falter for the third time in a block's distance, Jack refuses to let him continue. He practically carries the angel into his house through his bedroom window. He wants to drop Alex on the bed, but at the last minute he thinks better of it. Only a few steps further brings them to his en suite bathroom, where the floor is tiled - aka, easy to clean up. After sitting him down as lightly as possible, Jack collapses next to him, not even bothering to turn on the bathroom light. He might be a world-class fighter, but that didn't mean it didn't take a lot out of him, especially being so outnumbered. Combine that with carrying Alex for nearly a mile, and it's enough to tire Satan themself out.

Rubbing his eyes, Alex tries to wake himself up. "I guess we should clean up, then." He rasps, voice just as unwilling to work as the rest of his body.

Jack moans, and somehow his pain hurts more than everything else Alex has just experienced. "Tomorrow. When we wake up. I don't think I can stay upright for that long, and God knows you can't, either." Jack reaches a hand out to pat the angel's knee. "Look, I want to know why you were there and how you got involved with those assholes and I want to talk to you about us and everything that's been going on, but I just can't tonight. I know you probably still hate me but we can worry about that tomorrow, too."

Alex is silent for so long that Jack thinks he must have fallen asleep. "I've never hated you, Jack." He says finally. "And after tonight, how could I ever hate you?"

Jack gives him a half-shrug. "I'm a demon. Everyone hating me is generally how it works."

Suddenly the nausea makes a reappearance, but this time Alex is able to (barely) swallow it down. "Right." He barely mouths the word. Averting his gaze, Alex finds that he's seated right next to his bathroom cabinets. He barely has to move to open the door and pull out a few towels. Towels are easy to wash, he thinks, laying four over Jack and saving two for himself. "Goodnight, Jack." Alex whispers. "I'm glad you're here."

Jack is still, and his breathing has almost totally evened out, but even his sleep-like state can't keep a small smile from blooming across his face.