#and then some genius decided to break them up immediately afterwards because of some ignorant and completely idiotic baby queer mentality

[aaronsinferno]

Thinking about what could’ve been…

9-1-1 (2018-) S08E06 ★ 'Confessions'

[imthepointe]

We’re Not Really Strangers

Jay’s not really sure why Cole has always been so touchy with him, but he decides to welcome the physical contact- to an extent. And so he resigns himself to a great and terrible boundary of friendly intimacy with his best friend; more than strangers but never more than friends, perhaps destined for something greater.

In which Jay is one-hundred percent, entirely straight.

a/n: 4302 words, tw for internalized homophobia

When Jay first met Cole, he first noticed his arms. His really nice, lean, smooth arms. They were unusually buff for a thirteen-year-old, and reflected years of mountain climbing and muscle building. The very next thing he thought was what? because that was a weird thing to notice in a guy.

In his reckless adolescence, the little lightning ninja chalked this first and silent observation up to the fact that pre-teens shouldn’t be so buff and that it was only natural for him to notice Cole’s inherent, smoulder-y attractiveness.

Because Jay liked girls. He liked their skin, their long hair, and…

It doesn’t matter. Jay liked girls, exclusively.

Five years later Jay can’t imagine a life without Cole. He’s his partner in fighting, combat, and training, but also in just day-to-day life. Their conversations range from fighting about which flavor of ramen is best to more serious topics such as relationships...with family.

Jay remembered when Cole had first opened up to him about losing his mother and his rocky relationship with his father. He had looked down, until finally, Jay scooted just a little bit closer to him. His side pressed into Cole’s, and the earth ninja crumbled, allowing himself to be emotional and sincere. And when it was all over, Cole put his hands on Jay’s and thanked him; Jay ignored the warmth in his chest, attributing it to the vulnerability of the conversation and the delicacy of the talk.

But Cole’s physical presence persisted. It started during gaming nights, when the two were so close they were practically on top of one another, their thighs touching and oh god Cole’s bicep flexing against Jay’s arm as he gripped the game controller tighter.

Jay decided he didn’t mind the contact and allowed Cole to continue being close.

During training, Cole would not miss any opportunity to help Jay stand from the ground, extending hand to help him up and gently pulling the blue ninja to his feet. During physical combat training, Cole would win- and rather it was because Jay liked when Cole would swiftly pin him down to the ground or simply because the earth ninja was a better fighter than he, Jay wasn’t sure.

As they were sitting for dinner, Cole’s hand would brush against Jay’s. It was fleeting and probably an accident.

This was the problem: Jay found himself thinking about Cole’s muscles much more than he thought about kissing nameless girls. But he maintained that it was only because Cole was his best friend and naturally a pretty handsy guy- not to mention he does have stellar muscles, anyway, so it was only natural that they were noticeable to Jay.

But this resolve crumbled one hot summer day during training. They were both seventeen.

“You all have such cool places to keep your weapons,” Jay complained. Kai, Zane, Cole, Jay, and Lloyd were all out in the monastery’s courtyard, taking a small break from the morning’s rigorous training.

“Do we?” Zane asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“Yes,” Jay said, dragging the “s” sound. “I just have to carry my nunchucks.”

Kai suggested he get a belt that would hold them, and Jay liked that idea, until the belt finally came.

Kai had made it for him. Jay was grateful- he really was- but this was by god the ugliest thing he had ever laid eyes on. Not to mention it weighed about as much as he did, and it hardly even was able to hold his nunchucks.

But as to not disappoint the fire ninja, he tried to put it on. Tried. Unfortunately- or perhaps fortunately, Jay’s not sure- Kai was also not an expert in design and practical effectiveness.

“Kai, this buckles in the back,” Jay said. “I can’t get it on.” Internally, Jay breathed a sigh of relief. At least he for sure didn’t have to put the belt on now.

But when Cole offered to help him put the belt on, he quickly accepted.

So Cole took the belt and knelt down beside the blue ninja, buckling the buckle (in the back!) with gentleness and care. All throughout practice, Jay found himself annoyed by the cumbersome feeling of the belt, even if he did have a place to store his nunchucks. But, the next day, when Cole offered to help him put the belt on again, Jay said yes before his mind could catch up.

Jay was uncomfortably comfortable with it all. When he should be trying to focus on training, all he can think about was Cole’s warm and calloused hands gently touching his hips, steadying them to buckle his stupid little nunchuck belt.

The third night after the belt incident, the lightning ninja was in his room, mentally reprimanding himself for stewing over Cole’s likely innocent acts of kindness- not because he wasn’t grateful for Cole’s help and generosity, he really was, but because he should be used to Cole’s touchiness by now.

And that was that. Cole has always been a little bit more physical in his...affections, and had no issue giving gentle touches and reassuring looks to anyone. That was right, Jay supposed. It didn’t matter because the entire situation was just Cole being the nice guy that he was. If it had been Zane with a belt fiasco, the earth ninja wouldn’t have hesitated to help him clasp the buckle either. Jay wasn’t even sure why he was so worked up about the whole thing anyways.

He dismissed the thought. Plus, no matter how physical Cole was, it didn’t matter, because Jay liked girls anyways. He really liked Nya, who, despite being the only girl he had ever had some sort of connection with beside his mother, seemed to like him too.

So he drifted off to sleep, dreaming about kissing her... but everytime he closed his eyes and conjured up this mental picture, she didn’t have a face.

---

A week later, after dinner, Jay and Cole were alone playing some game when the black ninja set his controller down and assumed an aura of stoic-ness about him.

“What’s up?” Jay asked.

“I’m bisexual,” Cole responded.

Jay’s mouth hung wide for a moment, before he mustered a smile and a “cool!” and cracking some stupid joke like leave it to you to overachieve. But he had also noticed the strength and vulnerability of Cole’s tone. When he came out then, he might have been scared, but he wasn’t afraid. Jay even remembered finding it admirable how relaxed Cole remained.

And then the moment was over, ending with Cole muttering “just wanted to let you know.” Jay didn’t mind, and they resumed gaming.

Minutes later, the door opened to reveal Kai, Lloyd, Zane, and Nya.

“C’mon, lovebirds, Wu wants us to try out some new training technique. He said-”

“Lovebirds? That’s a new one, Kai,” Cole interrupted, a light and playful smile on his face. He seemed to be handling Kai’s words with considerably more lightheartedness, either not putting more than two cents to Kai’s words or just not caring regardless.  

But Jay cared, a lot. He jumped from the couch and met Kai’s eyes.

“And at least I’m straight!” Jay shouted in a valiant display of defense, perhaps more as a reminder to himself than the others. He felt his cheeks burn and his stomach twist; he regretted saying that almost immediately.

(Jay would spend the next week regretting his reaction, loathing himself for his intonation and word choice. Soon, though, the regret turned into a serious analysis of why he cared so much about Kai’s tease, but this rhetorical question stumped even Jay’s genius. Because- in that moment- Jay wanted whatever it was Kai thought he and Cole were.

The lightning ninja came to the conclusion that he and Cole were naturally going to be drawn to spend time together, because obviously. They were best friends, and Jay couldn’t imagine not spending time alone with the earth ninja. It’s what kept their friendship so strong.)

“Okay, uh,” Kai stammered, glancing to the side, as if he were trying to avoid something. “It was a joke. I was kidding.”

Nya scoffed. “Let’s just go,” she said, turning to leave. Lloyd and Zane followed her path in suit, presumably towards the monastery’s courtyard to do whatever it was Wu wanted them to do. Then Kai inhaled quickly and turned, and Jay made a move to follow, but something stopped him.

He spared a final glance back at Cole, who he expected to still have a kind expression. Instead, he was sitting on the couch, head in his hands, and cheeks twinged ever so slightly pink.

Jay shook his head and left him alone.

They didn’t practice together that night; Jay practiced with Nya and left Cole alone with Lloyd. Afterwards, everyone had gone inside to shower and head to bed, save for he and Nya.

“Hey,” she called. “Thank you for practicing with me tonight.” Jay’s shoulders stiffened.

Surely it was at least 11 at night by now, completely dark outside. He could hardly see Nya standing directly in front of him.

“You’re welcome. I…” he trailed off, trying to think of something he should say. “I really wanted to. And you’re a good partner.”

“Yeah?”

Jay smiled. “Yeah.”

Then their hands brushed. It was silent for a moment, the only sound the small, labored breaths coming from the two ninjas. They were close, and Jay was elated. This was exactly how it was supposed to happen. This is always how it happened in the books he read or the shows he watched.

Then Nya smiled, and Jay smiled, and then he kissed her.

He supposed it was nice. Even though he couldn’t really see her, he liked kissing Nya. He had thought about it for quite some time. They pulled apart, and Jay looked at her once more, as if he had just seen her in this light for the very first time.

“Thanks again, Jay,” she whispered. The water ninja turned to head inside, but he stopped her, catching her hand.

“Nya,” he said, and it sounded more like a question than a statement. “I like you. I really like you.”

“But you wish I was Cole?”

Jay felt his heart drop and face flush, before he was spitting defenses left and right. That was not what he was expecting after he kissed the girl of his dreams.

Nya didn’t know what he felt. How could she? But as Jay almost expected himself to be angry with her, he wasn’t. His heart began to rapidly beat, and suddenly he wanted to leave this conversation so badly he probably would have faced a djinn again if it meant he could wish this all away.  

“Don’t play dumb, Jay,” she laughed. Her smile was kind. “You two hold hands all the time. I’ve seen the way you look at him. You just think you like me.” She took his hand, despite the fact that it was shaky and sweaty from anxiety.

“Listen to me, Jay. Take a deep breath.”

The lightning ninja almost protested, but remained silent, deciding anything he said might just dig himself deeper. “I think you’re great,” Nya began. “But…” she looked off in the distance, probably at the mountains far away. “Trust me. Think about it, and you can talk to me later if you want. Truth is, Jay, I love you, and care for you. And I’m observant.” She let go of his hand, gave his shoulder a squeeze, and went inside the monastery, leaving him alone.

He had one single, fleeting, yet distinct thought as he watched her turn away: Nya’s never been wrong before.

---

Somewhere between denial and anger and bargaining and depression there was Jay. Cole- or, at least, the thought of him- started to keep him up at night, in a real bad way, because every time he closed his eyes he saw him. It was like a rhythm known only to him, the way Jay would push the earth ninja as far away as possible from him during the day but at night wish he was closer than ever.

He was repelling Cole, ever since that night, that terrible, terrible night, when Cole trusted him and when Nya stepped out of her place. He didn’t want to, though. Still, Jay took no initiative to restore their intimacy they once had, even though his heart ached for it.

Of course, though, nothing gold can stay; as the weekly movie night rolled around, he found himself sitting next to the black ninja on the couch, maybe just a little too close for comfort.

But the chosen movie is boring. He was looking at the screen, yes, but his mind was somewhere else- maybe on Cole, whose head was nearly resting on his shoulder, asleep soundly and taking in small, shallow breaths; maybe it was on Nya, who was watching the movie, seemingly very interested in whatever the plot was but probably not really; or Kai, Lloyd, Zane, and Pixal, the latter of which were holding hands and smiling, and Kai and Lloyd fixated on the movie.

See, that was the thing about relationships Jay never really understood. How did Zane know he liked Pixal? Zane was a robot. How did he ever fall for her? Was it human nature, or lack thereof? Or something more innate?

“I believe the term for it is ‘pansexuality,’’' Zane had once said, a couple months ago. “I love Pixal because of who they are. I do not think it is in my coding to see...” he paused, thinking. “...gender. I simply love her regardless, and they love me. I firmly believe that’s what matters most.”

Jay had liked that. Maybe he could be comfortable with that, but his eyes drooped from fatigue before he could stew over it any more.

When he finally awoke, he and Cole had shifted considerably. Everyone else was gone- the movie probably long over- but Cole was nearly on top of him, curled into his side, his face relaxed and soft from sleep. His hair is brushed over onto his face in soft waves, his eyelashes fluttering, mouth slightly open.

Surely Jay must be half-asleep, because he feels the urge to continue dozing like that, his arms wrapped around Cole and at ease in his comfortable presence. But there’s something else, too: a warning. His mind was screaming at him, telling him that this was too close, that friends don’t touch like this. Sure, he and Cole had always displayed their friendship in more physically intimate ways, but this was too far…

He pried himself out of Cole’s arms, stumbling off the couch.

“Jay…?”

Cole had sat up from his position, eyes weary and dreamy. Jay just smiled, ignoring the flushing panic and embarrassment- oh, god- burning bright. “It’s late,” he said. “Go to your room and sleep.”

He did. And Jay somehow managed to make it back to his room, too, despite nearly falling over into Cole’s arms multiple times from the sheer self-humiliation of it all.

---

It went like this: Jay spent half of the next day lying to himself, that no, he did not want to be in a relationship with his best friend who happens to be a guy, and then the later half realizing that he had been lying to himself for much, much longer than a day.

He and Cole weren’t just friends. They weren’t acquaintances, but for some reason, it felt like they were strangers all over again. If they were taken back to the very first day they met- brand new faces, a fresh start- would things have gone differently now that Jay...knew?

He didn’t want to really be lovesick strangers. He wanted something forever. The most terrifying part- besides maybe Nya being right- was that his entire being was yearning for a relationship with Cole.

His mind was racing all through dinner that night, meaning he had nothing to say. It had been an easy day, no missions, just lazing around, and Jay hated it, because he needed something to preoccupy himself with. Nya spared him a few loving glances with a glint of mischievousness in her eye, but otherwise, no one seemed to notice his unusual silence.

After dinner, Jay busied himself; he didn’t think a single thing when he saw Nya tell Cole something, and then when Cole precariously disappeared out of the monastery, and after dinner was over, he volunteered to clean the kitchen. Zane had thanked him, and Jay was alone to wipe down the counters and do the dishes.

Methodical and logical- cleaning was a matter of the brain, not the heart, and thank the FSM for it. The blue ninja’s heart was growing tired. He cleaned until the kitchen was spotless, then retreated to his bedroom.

It was too cramped. Everywhere reminded him of Cole, of Nya; the picture on his nightstand, the one on his desk, where he could see his hand wrapped loosely around Cole’s pinky finger. He needed out, and he needed out fast, and he just needed a place to collect his thoughts and get some fresh air.

It was at least midnight by now, but Nya was in the living room, so he told her where he was going to make sure no one worried (a habit formed due to the unnaturally large number of times one of them has been kidnapped, or worse.)

“I’m going for a walk,” he mentioned in passing.

“Really?” she didn’t sound surprised. “It’s late.”

Jay fidgeted. “Yeah, I’m sure. Plus it’s a nice night out. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay.”

He walked out of the monastery and into the courtyard, relishing in the initial breeze that hit him. He would walk down the mountain and back up and be fine.

But a walk turned into a jog, and soon into a sprint. He wondered briefly why he thought he could run away from this realization, leaving it all behind in his bedroom at the monastery. And at least, for a few moments, it succeeded; the burning sensation in his chest and side stitches gnawing at his muscles made him completely forget about the whole situation. But soon, he asked himself why he was running down the monastery’s mountain, and the whole thing came back to Jay, and he audibly groaned.

He wished things could return to normal. He wished he could be normal. But for now, he was only concerned about placing one leg in front of the other as fast as he could despite the strong protest of his lungs.

He quickly tired out, doubling over to place his hands on his knees as soon as he reached the bottom of the mountain. The warm midsummer night breeze offered little reprieve from neither his anxiety nor his feelings for Cole.

“Jay?”

Speak of the devil.

It must have been an odd sight, Jay thought, to see him there, just after 12 at night, heaving and sweating to no end.

Jay sucked in a breath. “What are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here…” Cole trailed off, before glaring at Jay. “What are you doing here?”

Jay couldn’t meet his eyes. His heart was beating out of his chest, and no, it wasn’t from his impromptu run down a mountain. The FSM must have been playing some sick joke on him, because not only was he facing a life-altering realization tonight, now he had to face said person who had been the catalyst for this life-altering realization.

What the fuck.

Cole’s face shifted from that of possibly some unreadable shock to concern. “I was watching the stars, but I take it that was not what you were doing,” he sighed, taking one step closer to him. “Jay, what are you doing here,” he repeated slowly.

The prospect of explaining the entire thing to Cole seemed silly. Maybe because Cole should already know, or maybe because he had been in denial for nearly five years of his feelings and oh god the anticipation and anxiety were overwhelming. And so Jay opened his mouth to say something to Cole that might satisfy his queries, but all that came out was a choked sob.

The tears began and didn’t stop, not when Cole reached out a strong and steady arm and whispered reassurances like “hey, it’s okay,” and “shh, there.” The tears didn’t stop when Cole said “let’s get you inside,” and swooped Jay up in his arms and carried him all the way up the monastery’s steps up the mountain.

Jay cried harder at the prospect that this might be the last time he’s ever in Cole’s arms like this, bridal style.

And finally, Cole made it inside, shirt stained from tears that weren’t his and dotted with sweat from Jay’s temple. He took Jay to his bedroom and laid him down on his bed, before covering him up and sitting on the foot of his bed, as far away from arm’s reach as possible.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked.

Jay sniffed pathetically, sitting up from where the earth ninja had tucked him in.

This time, Jay instigated the closeness.

He slid his hand towards Cole, close but not touching. The other ninja held out his arms, and for the first time in a week, Jay quickly consented to falling into his embrace. It was a warm hug, with Cole’s strong, sturdy arms around Jay’s shaking frame.

Jay spoke, voice just above a whisper. “I think I might be gay. Or something. I dunno. Men.” Cole hugged him tighter, and the embrace grew more sincere.

Cole was about to say something, but Jay shushed him, as he had become aware enough to realize that a.) this might be far too intimate and b.) he just made Cole carry him, crying, all the way from the base of the mountain to the top.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and he was overcome with some relief that had been just out of grasp for the last five years. He pulled away from Cole and wiped his eyes. “I’m not sure why I’m crying.”

“That’s okay,” Cole smiled. “I don’t mind.”

“No, I’m serious,” Jay said. The pair remained quiet, eyes downcast, some unspoken feelings of tension hanging in the air. “ I came to terms with my sexuality and then I- I just ran all the way down the monastery mountain like a lunatic and I probably really smelly and gross and you still hugged me and carried me. I’m sorry.”

Cole gave a soft smile and a small, gentle laugh that made Jay’s stomach flip, but he could almost sense the upcoming conversation:

Hey, Jay, how’d you realize you might be queer?

Oh, nothing, besides the fact that I often pictured your face on Nya’s when I kissed her (once) and that you sitting right here in front of me makes it pretty easy!

Jay nearly squeaked- yeah, no thanks. He’d rather not do that tonight. Instead, he laid back down on Cole’s bed.

“We don’t have to ever talk about it, if you don’t want to. But I do want you to know that this won’t change anything between us, okay? Like- I won’t stop being your friend…”

Jay felt a twinge of guilt, so he closed his eyes, perhaps pretending to be overcome with sleepiness.

“...and I’ll still love and support you unconditionally. As a partner and friend. Nothing will change because you’re gay, I promise.”

The lightning ninja isn’t sure what spunk possessed him in that moment, but when he found himself saying “what if I want things to change?” before his mind could think clearly, he nearly punched himself square in the jaw for his sheer audacity.

Cole blinked from the foot of the bed. “What?”

Jay composed himself, staring at the ceiling, and decided it was now or never to confess his feelings. “What I guess I mean is that I’d be okay with a change. Maybe not for the worst. Because I like you, Cole. Like- like like you. And you’ve always been touchy with me, and now I want those touches and hand holdings and long hugs to mean something.”

At first he was afraid he had upset Cole, because the black ninja didn’t say anything for what seemed like an eternity. But then, in a swift and fluid movement, he was lying in his bed beside Jay and spooning him.

“This means something,” he said. “And really, for me at least, it always has.”

Jay cuddled into Cole. This was nice. And now that he was comfortable, it was even better. No more suppressed feelings, no more denial. He could admire Cole for who he truly was- yes, a good training partner, with nice wavy black hair and dark skin that looks like amber in the afternoon light and biceps and abs that could rival a god, but also as a crush. A support. A partner...not only for training.

Jay was nearly asleep in Cole’s arms when he whispered, “can I kiss you?”

The earth ninja looked at Jay. “I’ve been waiting for you to since the day I met you,” he said, and their lips met with enthusiastic and warm vitality. Cole’s lips were soft, a stark contrast to his muscular body, and Jay wondered why he didn’t do this sooner.

“By the way,” Jay whispered, “I always hated the feeling of the nunchuck belt. I just let you put it on me because I liked the way your hands felt around my waist.”

“And you just now realized you’re gay?”

---

Nya peeked into the room and, admittedly, felt a little relieved when she saw Jay in Cole’s arms, both sound asleep.

She was so glad she had told Cole to go stargazing that night.

[kuroo-shitsurou]

Weekly Meal Prep (Yandere!Omi Fushimi)

note: this is my first attempt at working with the yandere theme so i don't really know if i did good or bad,,, but something about messed up omi just sends me straight to hell. hope you enjoy!

word count: 2.9k

Monday.

"This is so good! This has got to be one of my favorite curry dishes so far." You gushed, shoving another spoonful of the new curry in your mouth.

"Glad you liked it. The place had bad reviews, but I think it's just because normal people don't know how to appreciate the raw and concentrated flavor of curry." Chikage grinned as he looked at you endearingly

"Ugh," You scoffed, "Why can't people understand that the raw flavor of the spices are supposed to taste like this? I dislike the artificial flavors of watered down and manufactured spices because of how... fake it tastes in curry dishes." You were about to go on a full-on rant about how using real spices in curry dishes should be the only way to cook curry.

Chikage watched you with his emerald eyes, admiring how beautiful you looked when you talked about something that you were so passionate about. Yeah, sure, he disliked women, but being here with you made him realize that maybe the other gender wasn't all that bad. Actually, he still hated women; He just didn't hate you.

You weren't a woman. To him, you were a goddess.

"Thank you for taking me out, by the way." You suddenly spoke, breaking your rant about the whole curry ordeal. "You didn't have to, but you did. I appreciate that a lot, Chikage."

His lips curled up in a warm smile.

"Don't mention it, director."

After you two finished your meals, you had to go back to the dorm immediately to hold several meetings with the troupes regarding their next projects. As Chikage held the door open for you, his eyes darted back inside the bustling restaurant.

"Hm? Is something wrong, Chikage?"

Again, he smiled at you, but it was more strained than the last.

"Of course not. Let's go home, shall we?"

-

Tuesday.

"Oi, careful." Juza wrapped an arm around you and pulled you closer to him. A motorcycle was speeding by and it nearly hit you, but thankfully, Juza saw it before it impacted. "Tsk, careless drivers piss me off. Stand here." He then guided you to walk inside of the sidewalk.

"Oh crap, I didn't see that. Thank you, Juza! You're so nice." Juza blushed at your kind words, but he shook his head to rid of the thoughts.

"'S nothin."

"Hey, look at that! They're selling a new flavor of crepes! Come on, let's check it out!" You grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him over to your favorite crepe place. They didn't have a line yet, which was good, because you were able to purchase the new crepes for you and Juza.

"Here!" You grinned at him, handing him one of the crepes

"Lemme pay for them."

"Nonsense!" You gently pushed the crepe further into his hand, and his mind went wild when your fingers brushed his skin. "Consider this a thank you gift because you saved me earlier."

He took the crepe hesitantly, and muttered a quiet "Thanks." before he bit into it.

His face lit up immediately.

"'S sweet. I like it."

"Marshmallow crepes. Genius! We should bring one home for Hisoka. I'm sure he'd love this!"

Juza smiled. He adored how you were always considerate and thoughtful of other people even when you weren't physically with them. It's one of the many things that he loved about you.

Suddenly, he felt a shiver down his spine. He looked around, but was suddenly distracted when you were spilling the cream all over yourself.

"Crap!"

"Oi, tissue!"

He handed you a few tissues so you could wipe your shirt, and you had to admit that was a little mortifying to be that clumsy in front of the younger male.

"Thank you for being so reliable, Juza. Makes me feel

As you were mindlessly walking home, Juza couldn't help but think to himself why that motorcycle looked so damn familiar.

-

Wednesday.

"Come on, director-chan! I promise you, it tastes good!"

"Kazu, I am legitimately going to HURT you."

"No you're not! That's so mean!" Kazunari wept crocodile tears.

"Come on, director-chan! It's just a bite!"

"Kumon, I'm going to die. If I don't make it, tell everyone in Mankai that I love them and that I always treated them as my own family."

"Director-chan, you aren't going to die here." Kumon sweat dropped.

"No, I've accepted my fate. If this is what I must do for love, then at least I'll go out knowing that I did it for you boys.

"Director-chan, it's just a salad. You don't have to be so dramatic about it!"

"It's a death trap! I know you boys want to kill me so you can always get free time!"

"If anything, we're concerned about you health! That's why we want you to eat this!" Kazunari made sure that the fork had greens, kani, and a mishmash of everything before he held it in front of your mouth. "Here, say ah!"

You wanted to throw up. Vegetables. Disgusting.

"This store sells the best kani salad! You have to try it, I promise you'll like it!" Kumon looked at you with big doe eyes and you sighed in defeat.

You leaned forward to eat the portion on the fork and Kazunari blushed because he realized that he was feeding you. It was an adorable sight, and maybe peer pressuring someone into eating healthy food could be an addition to his growing list of love advice.

You blinked. "It's... actually pretty good."

"Right?!" Kumon beamed before giving the restaurant owner a thumbs up.

"Here, director-chan!" Kazunari filled the fork again, "Say ah!"

Your face bloomed red and you snatched the fork from his hand, "I can feed myself just fine, Kazu!"

"You really are the cutest!"

"I wanna feed you too, director-chan!"

Kazunari watched as Kumon bothered you while you ate the rest of the salad. It was off-putting how there seemed to be a cold atmosphere in the room. He looked around to see that there were just a few customers sitting in the dining area. His eyes landed on a hooded figure who was sitting in a lone booth in the corner of the room. The figure had his face hidden behind a menu, but there was something about the person that reminded Kazu of a certain brunette that they loved in Mankai.

Maybe that was just coincidence.

After all, there were a lot of brunettes in Japan.

Right?

-

Thursday.

"It's odd for you two to take me out for Chinese." You stated. Your eyes were scanning the menu of the new Chinese place that opened just a few blocks away from the Mankai dormitory.

"Tsumugi found out about the egg drop soup because apparently it's famous outside of Veludo Way. He was insistent that we take you to try it." Tasuku replied, eyeing how excited Tsumugi looked.

"I've heard great reviews about the egg drop soup and I've been dying to try it." Tsumugi's usually calm and gentle tone of voice was laced with a child-like glee, and it took all of your willpower not to reach over the table so that you can pinch his cheeks.

"He already ordered individual soups for us, but if you want anything else off the menu, go ahead and order it as well." Tasuku won't admit it aloud, but he liked spending time with you and Tsumugi. Being with his bestfriend and his favorite director made him feel a sense of comfort that just made him feel all warm and gooey inside. He felt at home with you two and he wouldn't exchange that feeling for the world.

"It's refreshing to be with you two, especially since it's a lot calmer whenever Tasuku isn't at your throat, Tsumugi." You giggled, ignoring the deadpan look that the athletic male beside you was giving you.

"I'm glad you feel that way, director-san." Tsumugi chimed, smiling. He took your hand a placed a gentle kiss on the back of it. "Spend some more time with us, alright?"

Your face immediately felt hot and you pulled your hand back to save yourself from being more embarrassed than you already were.

"Is it just me, or does it feel like we're being watched?" Tasuku murmured as his eyes quickly scouted the room. Ever since you entered the restaurant, Tasuku already had this instinct in his guts screaming that there was someone watching you. Not just you in particular, but the three of you. You heard him speak, but what he said was unclear.

"Sorry, did you say something, Tasuku?"

"Oh, I was just mumbling. Don't worry about it.

"Three orders of egg drop soup. Can I help you with anything else?"

"No, thank you!"

"Enjoy your meal!"

Tsumugi immediately began to eat his soup even though it was still hot. His face melted into pure bliss as he felt the delicious components sliding down his throat.

"It's so good." He commented, masking his elation.

"It really is!" You added, taking quick slurps from your spoon. The soup itself tasted rich in flavor; It wasn't too runny, nor was it too starchy.

"It tastes okay to me."

"That's so disrespectful, Tasuku." You jokingly said with a mocking tone. "This soup legitimately changed my life. I wish I could have it everyday, along with curry."

"You somehow managed to sneak curry into the conversation again, huh?" He sighed, smiling at the way you laughed afterward.

Tasuku continued to consume his soup while observing how you and Tsumugi were practically worshipping the soup. He decided to ignore the eerie feeling building in the pit of his stomach gnawing at him alive.

Maybe it was just the soup.

-

Friday.

"Hurry up. We don't have all day."

"Gee, you don't have to be so mean about it!"

"I told you to make it quick. We have to get back in town because we have another meeting to attend to."

You and Sakyo just got out of a business meeting outside of Veludo Way. It was regarding a sponsorship for the Autumn Troupe's next play. Sakyo, the greatest cheapskate and money-pinching Sakyo, was more than willing to accompany you to the next town over if it meant saving the company tens of thousands worth of yen. As long as it involved finances, the blond always needed to be a part of it.

"I know that, but we need to grab lunch before we head to the next meeting. It's bad to miss out on meals, you know! Come on, we'll just grab something from this store and rush back to Veludo Way."

Sakyo sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, but you did have a point. He was also feeling the hunger starting to rise inside of him. It was already lunchtime by the time you guys finished with the first meeting of the day, and he didn't really have a proper breakfast earlier.

You walked into this quaint little restaurant on the side of the road owned by a lovely old couple.

"Good afternoon, may I help you with anything?" The old lady asked warmly.

You felt your heart soften, "Is it possible to get two yakiniku bento boxes to go?"

She smiled, "Of course, dearie. They'll be right out."

"She seems nice!" You whispered to Sakyo, who was sitting across from you.

"She reminds me of you."

"Eh? Don't tell me I'm already aging! I don't wanna be like you yet!"

"I can and will leave you here."

"Eh, but seriously, how?"

Sakyo sighed exasperatedly. "She... sounds nice. Lovely, even. She just has a nice smile and it reminds me of how nice you are when you talk to other people."

"S-Sakyo, is that really you? Who are you? Are you an alien? How are you being so honest right now?"

"I'm going back to Veludo Way without you.

"Hey, I'm kidding!" You pouted.

"Two yakiniku bento boxes to go?" An old man, presumably the husband of the lady they talked to, walked over to you two and handed you the bag of bento boxes.

"Ah, thank you!" You bowed before taking the bag from his hands. You took your wallet out to pay, but Sakyo already left money in the box where you put your payment.

"Hey, I can-"

"Consider it my treat. You'll be working hard today, after all." For a brief second, he gave you a warm smile. However, it was quickly replaced by his usual scowl. "Now hurry up and let's go."

"Geez, I was just about to call you cute as well!

"I am not cute, _____."

As you two were walking out of the restaurant, the old couple gave you a fond smile.

"We were like that too when we were younger."

"Mhm. They look good together, don't you think?"

When you got back to the car, you began to snack on the onigiri part of your bento. You didn't notice how Sakyo's eyes were glaring daggers into the figure who was idly sitting on his motorcycle just a good few meters away from the car.

The figure was wearing a denim jacket and a black helmet, but he could see a few tufts of brown hair sticking out from above the nape of his neck.

His hand grasped the steering wheel in a tight grip until his knuckles turned pale. What was he feeling? Anxiety? Hostility?

The sensation of being... followed?

His mind was racing at the thought, but he decided to rid the negativity filling his consciousness to the brim.

"Sakyo, here's your onigiri." Your voice snapped him out of his daze, and he shot you a small smile.

"Thanks. Let's head back to town now."

"Mhm!"

Seeing the pure innocence, joy, and trust in your smile made him content. He wanted to protect you and your smile forever.

If only he could.

-

Saturday.

You woke up earlier than usual because you promised Itaru that you'd go with him to the game store down the street since today was the release day of the new game he'd been itching to buy.

You sat up to stretch and noticed that Omi was in your room.

"Gah!" You gasped, pulling the sheets up to cover yourself. "Omi?!"

He gave you a warm smile, "Oh, good morning! You're finally up. Sorry for barging in like this, I just wanted to call you over for breakfast."

"Th-Thanks for waking me up but um, do you mind? I'm still kinda in my nightwear." You blushed, knowing that your bra was still unhooked.

Omi's eyes darkened for a brief moment, but it was gone as soon as he blinked. It was replaced by the usual hazel eyes that gave you the warmest and kindest looks.

"I'm sorry! I'll be waiting for you outside." He then left your room, shutting the door behind him without making a sound.

"Jeez, Omi." You muttered to yourself. You quickly hooked your bra together then changed into a more decent t-shirt, appropriate enough for the other boys in the company to see you without being flustered or bewildered out of their minds. Seriously, Azami acts as if he's never seen a girl's shoulders before, what's up with that?

You tied your hair in a ponytail and went out of your room to head over to the kitchen where a bunch of familiar platters were waiting for you.

"Oh, wow, isn't this quite a... variety for breakfast?" You spoke, careful with your words. You always appreciated Omi for making food for the company, but the dishes he served this particular Saturday morning seemed like a mishmash of different food combinations and you just couldn't put your finger on why the food looked and smelled so familiar to you.

"Dig in, my dearest director." He replied, with his back facing you. It seemed as though he was still preparing something by the sink.

You took a seat and viewed the selection he prepared for breakfast.

Curry. Delicious, by the way.

Yakiniku.

Kani Salad.

Egg drop soup.

Crepes.

"Hey, didn't I..." You whispered to yourself, finally realizing that the meals he prepared for you were all meals you've eaten that week.

How did he know? Did the guys tell him about it?

"Well? Aren't you going to eat? You've been enjoying these all week, why not relive the moments one more time? I made sure to prepare them just the way you like them, after all." Omi's voice was laced with something... unknown. Was it possessiveness? He didn't sound like the warm and loving Omi you knew and love.

This Omi was... dangerous. He was terrifying. His back was still facing you, but you could feel a threatening aura from his broad shoulders because of how they looked so stiff.

He turned around and you froze upon seeing his half-lidded eyes. There was a crazed look in his pupils, something that reeked of want, lust, and obsession.

"You had curry with Chikage on Monday. Marshmallow crepes with Juza on Tuesday. Kani Salad with Kumon and Kazunari on Wednesday. Egg drop soup with Tsumugi and Tasuku on Thursday. Then you had a yakiniku bento box with Sakyo yesterday, right?"

Your eyes widened. The boys were pretty aware of the places you went to and who you went there with, but how in the world did Omi know everything?

"Don't worry about it. You don't have to go out with them anymore. I'm the only one who gets to cook for you from now on, okay?" Omi took steps closer to you. You wanted to scream, to run out of the room, to call for help from anyone, but you felt as if you were paralyzed with fear.

This wasn't Omi anymore.

He stopped when he was directly in front of you from across the table, and you could see his thin lips twist into a sadistic smile.

"Dig in, my precious director."

[im-totally-not-an-alien]

Final Fantasy 7 prompts no 50 (!!!)

1. Cloud died on the mountain when he was young, but his mother refused to except his death. Instead, she lights a candle in the front window of her home every night, praying for the gods to return her little boy to her.

When Sephiroth and Zack arrive she begged for them to look for her little boy while they were on the mountain, to bring him home...even if it's just his bones.

They hesitantly accepted.

Cloud, as a ghost, appears to them and throws snowballs at them. The pair, ignorant about how long the boy had been missing, immediately attack to capture him, but he seems to disappear behind trees and rocks.

They kept losing him and they stayed with mama Strife for the night. The process repeats day after day.

She eventually starts mothering Sephiroth and they start filling the voids in each other's hearts, until one day the boy came to Zack and Sephiroth, thanked them, asked them to take care of his mom, and them faded away right before their eyes.

2. Both Zack and Cloud survived on the the Midgar cliffs, but where captured by the Turks and brought to Rufus to serve as his personal bodyguards.

Its clear that Rufus has other intentions for them, but Zack doesn't have a clue what they could be.

Cloud has an idea, since a lot of monsters have been escaping from the science department lately...

3. Sephiroth and Cloud are Soulmates.

Cloud thought soulmates were overrated and that he wasn't good enough for the general, not to mention he didn't really know anything about him.

Sephiroth, however, is almost obsessed with Cloud, and the idea of a fated love.

Genesis thinks its hilarious...for the first two weeks, afterwards its really annoying and the paperwork from the "romance incidents" started piling up, prompting Genesis to try teaching the Silver General to flirt, and when that failed he began pulling different people into the fiasco, making more and more of a mess until Strife finally surrenders and goes on a picnic near Kalm with his soulmate...and actually enjoys it now that he wasn't feeling forced and suffocated by everyone's expectations.

4. Sephiroth peering into Clouds shattered memories cause he has nothing better to do while being trapped in the lifestream.

5. Chocobos rescue Zack and comatose Cloud while they were running from Shinra, and accepted them as honorary Chocobos...though that might've been because of their hair...

6. AC cloud wakes up lying on the ground near a river with the General leaning over him. He scrambled into a salute, even while laying on the ground, "General, sir!"

Sephiroth peered at him, as though inspecting him. "At ease SOLDIER."

The blond looked dumbfounded for a moment before looking down at himself and making a small noise of surprise.

He was soaked and his chest and throat ached fiercely, but he was in a modified SOLDIER uniform. He was a SOLDIER!? When had that happened?!

Sephiroth, however, had already put together that Cloud had amnesia, and decided he was going to milk it for all it was worth. Besides, he deserved it for preforming CPR on his precious puppet and saving his life.

He basks in the glow of Reunion, thinking this is how it's supposed to be when he notices Cloud obeying every order he makes without question or hesitation, they fight together fluidly, destroying any monsters or towns they come across. Not once do Clouds memories threaten to come back, instead, his hold over his puppet only grows with time.

What people don't seem to realize is that Sephiroth was raised in the art of war, thus he was a genius strategist and could be ruthless and manipulative when he wished. He disposed of the blonds former friends one by one before they even had a chance to interfere. Starting with the fistfighter.

7. Time traveler Cloud becoming Midgars local cryptic.

8. Alternative reality Cloud walked into a W.R.O. meeting room but instead of seeing Reeve when he looked up he saw a bunch of glowing SOLDIER eyes staring at him. Worse, one pair belonged to Sephiroth.

Fuck.

He stared at the rooms occupants and they stared back, before the aforementioned silverette softly asked, "Cloud? Is that...really you?"

Cloud took a deep breath, turned around and walked right back out the door, deciding there wasn't enough coffee in the world to make him deal with this mess. It could be someone else's problem.

Sadly, the portal to that other world remained open, even after he heard the whoosh of the automatic door behind him.

8. A very confused Witcher hunting a very confused Cloud

Crack and angst. Crangst? Is that a thing?

It is now.

9. Clouds abilities interfered with Shelkes, causing both of them to be bodily transported into Cyberspace...and 10 years into the past.

The problem is that they can't get out. Shelke seems hesitant at first, but admits there's a reason the doesn't stay in her net dives for too long. Prolonged exposure can cause mental and emotional degradation, essentially robbing them of their sanity and eventually rendering them braindead.

Now their only hope is to contact someone in through technology, which thanks to their powers still interfering with eachothers, comes off as glitches in machinery and poltergeist activities. How will they get help in time?

10. Merman Cloud saving AVALANCHE in Junon after Merc. Zack had saved him in Midgar and released him into the ocean the first chance they got.

11. A heavily medicated Sephiroth overhears Time traveler Cloud admit that he was created using Cloud and Sephiroths DNA.

Sephiroth bursts in like, "You're my son?!"

"Oh, gods no." The blond muttered, mortified. He wasn't even given the chance to react beyond that before the general scooped him up and ran out the door, proudly proclaiming Strife to be his son and holding him in the air for all to see, all the while he kept muttering, "nonononono" and was powerless to do anything thanks to the combined efforts of shock and the Generals sheer joy emanating through his j cells.

"Congratulations General." A SOLDIER 2nd said calmly. Strife died a little inside as Kunsel snapped a photo

Later, a copy of the photo was blown up and the image of Sephiroth holding Strife helpless in the air was on display in the mess hall for all to see.

An anonymous letter was also sent to Hojo, congratulating him on his grandchild.

The scientists enraged screams could be heard even six floors down

12. Barret and Tifa where digging through the abandoned remains of the new Nebilheim, only to come across an underground series of chambers containing the slightly burnt items belonging to the villiagers before the massacre.

The brawny gunman brought the items belonging to child Cloud and his late mother to the blond, expecting a small thanks.

He wasn't expecting Cloud to break down over a picture of his mother, or to sob into his chest. He softly patted the former merc as he cried. Barret had no idea what to do with a rainy Cloud.

13. Some idiot left Cloud and Yuffie in charge of the boat.

When Cloud found the note he was livid. What kind of brainless morons left the two people with intense sea sickness alone on a boat?! What were they supposed to do if intruders arrive? Groan at them and hope they take pity?

14. Cloud never thought he'd be so grateful to see Sephiroth calmly walking towards him with his sword drawn

15. So, it turns out Genesis can use magic as a frog.

[tomiokai]

Drunk Words, Sober Thoughts || Spencer Reid

Masterlist

A/N: This is a fic I have wanted to write for a long time, and I have read this concept a whole bunch of times from different fandom so it isn’t my original idea. Kudos to whoever made this idea first, I love it, but I did want to write one with my own twist. So yeah, enjoy. I don’t drink so bare with me. Maybe a happy part two, possibly. 

Please don’t copy my works, but if you do want to use it as inspiration please give me credit, at least tag me. I do read a lot and when I see my ideas getting stolen and then turned into new stories it really hurts me.

Summary: After Y/n and Spencer’s one-sided breakup, Y/n gets drunk on their breakup anniversary and calls Spencer and admits that she still loves him and that she is mothering his child. This is after prison Spencer so he isn’t as nice!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Category: Angst

Warnings: Angst. Not a happy ending, I really wanted it to be a happy ending but life sucks so whatever. Alcohol obviously. Have your tissues ready if you are sensitive. Swearing. 

Word Count: 3.2k

_

“I’m sorry Y/n but I don’t love you anymore. Everything about us is just so complicated. We’re always fighting and arguing, and my job is very stressful and time-consuming, our fire burned out a long time ago and we just don’t belong together anymore. I just can’t do this with you, I’m sorry and I hope you’ll find someone else and please forgive me one day” 

Those were the words that ended our 2-year relationship. Spencer didn’t love me anymore. He left me standing there in the rain outside of the BAU, 10 o’clock at night, in the dark, alone. He walked away from me, from our child that he didn’t even know about, I was going to tell him but he left before I could. And I knew that if I told him about our child I would burden him with our child. With me. 

Of course the team was devastated when they were informed that we had broken up.

 Garcia, JJ, Emily, and I still hang out regularly, we would go to nightclubs, and bars and all sorts of fun places together, we never lost our connection with each other. Spencer was a topic that was never brought up when we hung out, but when he was the whole mood would be killed. 

Rossi and I would meet up every second Saturday of the month and we would have a nice dinner together and talk, nothing romantic, only a father-daughter relationship. He was also the godfather to Spencer and I’s child. And of course Penelope was the godmother, it was a tough decision between the girls, but since Penelope had the least dangerous part of the job she was the best choice.  

Henry Y/l/n Reid was the beautiful baby boy I had given birth to on October 31 weighing 7.6 pounds. A coincidence to say the least, it was on Spencer’s favorite holiday. He took up almost all of Spencer’s facial features, only leaving Henry with my y/h/c hair, and plump lips. He looked too much like Spencer, anyone who looked at Henry would immediately assume he was Spencer’s. When I was in labor, practically the whole team came rushing to the hospital leaving Spencer alone at the BAU for a few hours. I had made everyone keep it a secret to not tell Spencer until I decided too and so when they had gone back they all had their own excuses. It has been two years since our breakup, I had raised him myself, along with the girls, and Rossi. It was hard being a single mother, 2-year-old Henry had definitely inherited Spencer’s genius brain and had on multiple occasions asked where his daddy was. Every time the answer would be, “Daddy has a very busy job and doesn’t have time, he travels a lot, but he’s coming back really soon”.  And that was how it went every single day for two years. 

On many occasions JJ would suggest I tell Spencer but every time I would decline and say, “not yet”.  

All this time I was still madly in love with Spencer. Every night I would cry myself to sleep knowing the person I loved the most other than Henry didn’t love me back. He had moved on, on several occasions Emily would come to tell me about the girls she would see Spencer flirting with. It wasn’t something I wanted to know, but I needed to know. A very small part of my heart suggests that if I had told Spencer the night I found out about Henry he would have never left me, but Spencer had stopped loving me long before that and telling him would burden him to me. I loved him, so so much, and it was all my fault he didn’t love me back. Rossi, every time we met up would tell me it wasn’t my fault that Spencer had fallen out of love with me, but deep down inside of me it felt like it was. Maybe it was because of Maeve, maybe not. 

Laying in bed crying, that is exactly what I was doing right this moment. The tears spilling out of my eyes staining the plush white pillow under my head, my body curled in the fetal position. Trembling, shaking, coldness, and the choked sobs from my lips filled the air. Henry completely oblivious of what's happening, was sleeping in the room next door. Whenever Henry saw me cry he would wrap me in a tight long hug, his small arms squeezing me tightly, his cheek on my shoulders, he never said anything, just hugged me. He truly was a smart little boy. 

Tonight's tears were different. They didn’t just come out of my eyes, they poured out. Today marked the official 2 year break up anniversary, two whole years knowing the person you loved the most probably had someone else on their mind. 

‘He never loved you.’

‘He’s too good for you.’

‘He hates you.’

‘He loves someone else.’

‘He wants nothing to do with you.’

‘He left you alone.’

‘YOU WEREN’T GOOD ENOUGH, THAT’S WHY HE LEFT YOU.’

‘YOU'RE A WHORE.’

‘YOU'RE UGLY.’ 

‘YOU DON’T DESERVE LOVE.”

The voices never stopped, slapping at my brain. The pounding just got worse whenever I tried to ignore it. 

That's it. I bolted up from my bed and started walking towards the kitchen. Wine, Vodka, Beer, all those sounded great right now. And you know what that’s exactly what's going to happen. To get wasted. I’m never this reckless, but tonight, tonight was an exception, it hurt too much, the pain jabbing at my heart was too much to handle. 

I stomped quietly down the halls of my apartment and swung the kitchen cabinet door that held the booze open. Nothing. 

Plan b. 

Grabbing the skimpiest dress I owned I threw it on and taped up on some light makeup. The dress I had on looked so slutty I almost decided to just cancel my plans, the dress was a deep dark shade of emerald green, it had almost the thinnest straps, a plunging neckline, and a skirt that stopped at the top of my thighs. For makeup a smokey eye with gold and blood-red lipstick. I grabbed my long y/h/c hair and pulled it into a slick, tight ponytail at the top of my head and turned to the bathroom mirror. I looked like a desperate whore, I had thought to myself as I stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. The jabbing was not going to let me rest so I threw my stupid thoughts about being a whore out of my head and called Rossi. 

David picked up on the third ring.

“Y/n why are you calling me at 10:30pm?” David’s voice came from the other end. 

“I’m so sorry David for waking you up so late but could you please please please come to my apartment and watch Henry for a few hours? He’s asleep already! All you have to do is listen for him.” My voice pleaded, sounding more desperate than the time I begged Spencer to come back. 

“Fine, but you owe me a coffee tomorrow,” David answered shuffling around his apartment for a coat and his keys. “I’ll be there in 3 minutes. 

“Thank you, see you,” I said into the phone and hung up.

Three minutes passed and as Rossi promised he showed up. 

I swung the door open as soon as I heard the knock on the door. 

Rossi just stood there looking at me with a disapproving look on his face. I could tell he already knew what I was up to. After all he is a profiler. 

I stepped aside so David could step in. 

“I’m only doing this because I know you need this,” Rossi said stepping in. 

“Thank you,” I said a small smile on my face. 

“Be safe okay? And don’t do anything you’ll regret.” David said, taking off his coat and sitting down in the armchair by the tv. 

“Okay. I’ll be back in a few hours and the guest room is always open.” I said grabbing my purse and closing the door. 

I called a cab to take me to the most popular night club. The more people the better. The driver kept eyeing me throughout the entire car ride, and I get why, I did dress like a lady that wanted nothing but attention. 

When we stopped in front of the club, I jumped out and threw my money to the driver before he could say anything and walked away and into the club. 

The club was crowded as I had suspected, this was good this way I blended in. 

As I made my way to the bar part of the club, I felt insane amounts of prying eyes on me, but I chose to ignore all of them.

“I’d like the strongest drink you have here,” I said to the bartender as I slapped down a few bucks.

“Break up?” The bartender asked as he picked up the money. 

“You can say that,” I said holding the tears back. 

I waited as the male bartender, Elliot I had read on his tag, prepared my drink. All around me were couples dancing and grinding against each other. Jealousy. that's what I was feeling right now at the moment. 

The bartender brought back my drink and I downed it in a matter of seconds. What came afterward hit strong. The drink made my mind fuzzy and fluffy. That’s good. I wanted to feel the clouds. Right? 

“I’ll take three more of these.”  I slurred already dizzy. 

“I’m sorry miss but you can’t have more than three of these, they are very strong.” The bartender said back. 

“I’ll pay double,” I answered.

“I’m sorry miss, but it's against policy, and I have a good idea how you are feeling, and it may seem like a good idea right now, but it’ll suck later,” Elliot responds back. 

“Fine, two more than,” I said handing him more bills. 

He took the money without any words and walked to the back to prepare the drinks. I may be no profiler but I can sure as hell tell he thinks I’m psychotic.

Elliot brought back my drinks, and I gave him a quick thanks. I grabbed my second glass and stared around me again.  Happy couples everywhere. Ugh. I downed my second glass as an attractive man approached me. 

“Hey pretty lady, mind if I take you home for tonight?” The man asked. 

I thought about it. I really did. But I loved Spencer way too much. “No thank you,” I answered. 

“Come on.” The man said, grabbing my hand roughly. His face dangerously close to mine that I could smell his disgusting breath.

“NO THANKS,” I repeated trying to pull my wrists away.

His hand tightened against my arm. “Come on you whore! You're basically asking for it by the way you're dressed.” The man spat. 

I started struggling and pulling but the man wouldn’t let go one bit. 

“Hey let her go, the lady said no,” Elliot said approaching the counter towards us. 

The man looked at me in disgust and let go of my wrists and walked away stomping his feet. 

“Thanks,” I said as tears started spilling out of my eyes. 

“Yeah no problem, be safe okay?” He asked. 

“Yeah okay,” I answered as I chugged my last glass of alcohol.

I stood up, wobbling, and tried my best to make my way out of the club. 

I could still hear the music as I walked out of the club. It was pouring rain outside. Great. My stupid ass didn’t bring a jacket.  I saw a phone booth a few feet away and I quickly made my way to it, tripping and stumbling a bit. Everything around me was spinning and I felt like I could be flying right now. I closed the door to the phone booth and just clutched to the wall as I tried to sort out all my thoughts. 

Then an idea struck me. Call Spencer Reid. 

If I wasn’t drunk I wouldn’t have done it, but now it was too late, the numbers were already dialed, and the phone was already against my ear. 

On the fifth ring he picked up. He picked up. Picked up. He actually picked up.

“Hello?” Came Spencer's angelic voice, although he sounded pissed. 

“Spencer? Is- Is that you?” I slurred stuttering like crazy. I already knew but I had to make sure.

“Y/n is that you? Why do you sound drunk?” Spencer’s voice came.

“Of course dummy I’m drunk, why else would I be calling.” I laughed, bubbly hiccups erupting my mouth. 

“Why are you calling me y/n, it's one in the morning and I’m kind of busy.” He said, definitely pissed.  “Wait are you outside?”

“Y-yes,” I answered back.

There was a long pause. 

What I said next was not something I would have said if I wasn’t pissed drunk. “I really miss you Spence. And, and I love you so much and I hate that you left m-”

“Stop Y/n I don’t want to hear it. I told you two years ago that I don't love you.” Spencer stopped me.

“Spencer please, please, please. I’m s-s-sorry for whatever i- I did.” I sobbed tears, definitely pouring out of my eyes. 

“I’m sorry Y/n. I told you a million ti-.” Before he could finish, a female voice came on. “Hey babe who is that?”

CRACK. That was my heartbreaking. 

“I’m not your babe Amanda.” I barely hear,  my choked sobs were stopping me from focusing on anything. 

“Is-is that a woman?” I clocked out. 

“Yes it is, I told you I was kinda busy.” Spencer spat. 

That’s it. That’s when I snapped. “THAT’S IT IF YOU’RE GOING TO SLEEP WITH OTHER WOMEN, I WON’T LET YOU MEET HENRY, YOU BASTARD,” I screamed into the poor phone. 

My eyes immediately popped open in horror as I realized what I just yelled. I slapped my hand to my mouth in horror. Tears definitely still pouring out my eyes.

“Who’s Henry?” Spencer asked.

“NO. NO. NO. NO.” I screamed on the phone, still in denial. 

“Get dressed and get out of my house. GO!” I heard Spencer from a distance. “I’m coming to pick you up,” Spencer said to me.

“Why would you fucking do that?” I cried. 

“Because obviously you’re bat shit drunk Y/n. And plus if I left you to die in a random phone box somewhere. Rossi’s going to strangle me. Where are you?” Spencer exclaimed.

“I-I’m on third street in front of the club,” I answered calming down. 

“Okay bye.” He said and hung up. 

“BITCH!” I yelled into the deadline. 

Oh god I’m going to throw up.  I ran out of the phone booth and thankfully my hair is already pulled back. I basically threw up everything I ate for dinner. I rubbed my lips with my arm and saw that my red lipstick was rubbed on my arms which only meant one thing it was rubbed on my cheek too.

I stood by the side of the road both hands in front of me holding my handbag, drenched in rainwater, Mascara running down my soaked cheeks, lipstick smudged. And that’s exactly how I looked when Spencer pulled up on the side of the road. 

Spencer pulled the door open from his seat and motioned me into his car. I climbed into the car and grabbed the seat belt to fasten it but my head was so spiny it was impossible. Spencer grabbed the seat belt from my hands and roughly shoved it in. 

“God you look like a cheap whore,” Spencer stated as he pulled away from the crib.

“I KNOW YOU DON’T HAVE TO RUB IT IN,” I yelled, frustrated. 

“Jesus women calm down I’m just saying,” Spencer said calmly, eyes never leaving the road. 

I sat there in silence frustrated as hell. 

“So who’s Henry? Your new boyfriend?” Spencer sneered.

On any other day when I’m sober I would have played along with it, but no.

“No,” I answered staring straight ahead. 

“Then who is he?” Spencer asked, turning his head to me.

“No one.” I spat, making eye contact with him. 

“You can’t just bring a random guy up and not tell me!” Spencer said, clearly frustrated. 

“YES I CAN,” I yelled.

“JUST TELL ME JESUS CHRIST.” He yelled back.

I bit my lip as I started balling my eyes out. 

“Just tell me.” Spencer urged. 

“HE’S YOUR TWO-YEAR-OLD SON. OKAY NOW DROP IT!” I snapped. 

His eyes widened in surprise. I looked at him in horror, slapping my hand to my mouth. 

“I have a son?” Spencer asked, amazed, but also looking angry. “And you didn’t tell me for two years?” 

I just nodded covering the rest of my face crying into my hands. 

“When were you going to tell me?” He asked.

I didn’t answer.

“WHEN WERE YOU GOING TO TELL ME?” Spencer yelled. 

I looked up at him and his face was all red and he was gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were turning white. 

“I don’t know.” I choked out.

We neared my apartment building and Spencer parked his car. “Get out, I’ll call you when I’m less pissed at you.” Spencer managed between clenched teeth.

I just sat there cause I really didn’t know what to do.

“I SAID GET OUT OF MY CAR NOW!” Spencer yelled, his hands in the air now. 

“OKAY, BYE,” I screamed back and got out of the car and slammed the door shut. Spencer immediately drove away, no hesitation, and never looked back.

I climbed the stairs to my apartment, tears still pouring out my eyes, dress still soaked, and makeup all over. 

When I opened my apartment door Rossi stood up and looked at me. With one look Rossi knew and ran towards me to wrap me in a very tight hug

I dropped my bag onto the floor and hugged Rossi back, crying into his shoulder as he patted my wet hair. 

Part two?

[animeniacss]

A Palette of Emotions - Artist!Taehyung x Teacher!Reader - Chapter 16- What Makes Me Passionate

Synopsis: Taehyung dreams of being a professional and famous artist one day, but finds that the sea of creativity can be lurking with blood hungry sharks, as well as bland, motionless starfish. Swimming through the sea of opportunities somehow washed him up onto the shore of Bright Star Preschool, as an art teacher. This wasn’t where he expected to be 4 years into his career, but anything to get his big break though, right?

Feat. BTS, TXT, ITZY, Jisoo (BlackPink), Taeyong (NCT)

Genre: Romance, Slow Burn, Love Triangle, Drama, School Setting, Working!AU

Length: approx. 4.8k words

Chapter 16 - What Makes Me Passionate

Taehyung felt that he was floating on Cloud 9 after, what he would at least consider, a successful date with you in the hills outside of Seoul. He had such a good time, and even with his silly little slip-up, he was confident that you enjoyed yourself too. When he got home afterward, he lounged out on the couch and flipped on the television, his phone resting safely on his lap until you sent him that confirmation text that you had made it home safely. Once he did, he had Jimin on the phone for over an hour, gushing like a schoolgirl about his afternoon, and how happy he was. Saying it out loud only continued to fill him with happiness.

That happiness lasted into the night and right into the next day. Jungkook wanted to come over and paint, and Taehyung had no objections. As he waited in his kitchen for the knock at the door, alerting him of Jungkook’s presence, Taehyung was whipping up a few sandwiches for the duo to eat at lunch.

“Hyung!” He heard faintly from behind the door. He lifted his head in the direction of the door, where a loud knock came following the voice.

“Yeah, hold on!” He shouted, setting the food on the table before heading to the door. When he flung it open, Jungkook was standing in his view, a bag slung over his shoulder, and a grin on his face. “Hey, Jungkook. Come in.”

“I have some cool new things that I painted over the past few days that I want to show you, Hyung!” Taehyung looked over as Jungkook slid off his shoes and set his bag down on the coffee table, plopping down in front of it before starting to pull out a bunch of canvases of varying sizes. Taehyung felt as though he was looking at himself on Christmas, frantically opening presents with wide and curious eyes, even though Jungkook already knew exactly like he was going to pull out and show. When Taehyung walked over, plopping down on the couch and watching as Jungkook turned in his direction, handing him a few of the smaller canvases. “Which one do you like the best?”

When Taehyung spread the handful of canvases on the couch beside him as well as his lap, looking them over with focused eyes. The various canvases were practically like a rainbow, various colors lined up and spread around the canvases as a focal point for each. The red canvas resembled that of a rose, a hint of green poking out at the bottom as if the flower had just recently bloomed. The yellow resembled a daisy, bright and lively behind hints of a blue background. Purple resembled a stunning lilac, and as Taehyung’s eyes landed on each new canvas, he continued to get the same theme: floral.

“These are nice. What made you choose to do a whole floral theme?” Taehyung’s eyes lifted to see Jungkook and…what was that he noticed on Jungkook’s cheeks? Red-tinted blush? Jungkook must have realized as well because he immediately turned away. “What’s with the sudden red face?” He hummed.

“It’s a long story, just answer the question of which one you like best, please.” He begged, not turning back to look at his Hyung. Taehyung, already with a good idea of where this was going, looked back down at the pictures laid before him.

“Well…” Taehyung began. “I think my personal favorite is the lilac. But there’s something to suggest that can be of good advice.” Taehyung’s explanation made Jungkook finally turn back around to face him. “But I’ll only tell you if I get an explanation. I need some backstory to make a fair decision.”

Jungkook sighed, offering only a pout in response. “Alright.” He began. “One of the girls in my class…noticed me sketching during art.” Taehyung rubbed his tongue against the inside of his cheek, an amused smile forming on his face. “So, she started talking to me a lot and said she thinks I’m talented. Usually, girls are pushy with me but like…she’s pretty calm. She hasn’t tried to flirt with me or anything. She just wants to talk about my art and it’s nice.”

“So, does that have a connection with the paintings on my lap?” A curious Taehyung asked.

“Yes,” Jungkook said. “She said she’s a really big fan of flowers. But she never really told me a specific one, she just kind of say she liked flowers. So, I made a whole bunch of flowers, and…I wanted to give her the best one.” Taehyung smiled.

“That’s cute, Jungkook. These are all good.”

“But you like lilac best?” He asked curiously. Taehyung nodded. “Then I’ll give-.”

“Hold on,” Taehyung said quickly. “Remember I said I had a suggestion that could work if I had the right information?” Jungkook nodded. “Well, now I have the right information.” Taehyung leaned back against his couch and motioned to the paintings. “If you don’t know what kind of flower she likes the best then give them all to her.”

“But isn’t that a bit excessive? She’s not me…” Jungkook’s ears tinted a little pinker. “my…girlfriend, or anything.”

“But clearly, you want her to be,” Taehyung said simply. Jungkook huffed, but he didn’t respond because he knew Taehyung was right. So did Taehyung. He’s a love guru now, after all. “But I know what you mean. Dropping like 5 different paintings on her desk in class seems a bit…too much. So, what would you do if you were buying a bunch of regular flowers for her?” Jungkook raised an eyebrow a bit, confused as to what Taehyung wanted for an answer. “Well?”

“I’d buy her a bouquet, I guess,” Jungkook said. Taehyung motioned down to all of the paintings once again, then offered his friend a small smile. “…Oh. Oh! Hyung, that’s a great idea!” Jungkook immediately took the paintings back into his arms, laying them out on the coffee table now. “I can go pick up a little carrier and give it to her on Monday! Hyung, you’re a genius!”

A genius. Yes, he was. Taehyung crossed his arms and offered Jungkook a playful, yet confident grin. “Any time, Jungkook. Considered it repayment for helping me last time.” Jungkook laughed a bit.

“How did the date go, anyway?” Jungkook asked curiously. Taehyung sighed, wagging his finger just slightly at the teen.

“Now, now Jungkook, it’s rude to kiss and tell, now isn’t it?” Taehyung asked curiously. Jungkook raised an eyebrow. It was obvious to him that Taehyung had been dying to share the experience since Jungkook first walked through the door of the apartment. After a second, Taehyung’s boxy smile returned to his face. “Alright, well since you’re being so adamant, I guess I can share.”

“You’re insane. I still can’t imagine how you scored that date.” Jungkook muttered, but Taehyung ignored it. Resting in the back of his chair, he resembled that of an old war veteran, preparing to share his stories of grandeur with the grandchildren at a family reunion. It made Jungkook snicker in amusement.

“Well, we went to the hills and had lunch. We got to do some painting, and overall, it was a really good time. She said she wants to do it again sometime, so hopefully, soon we can plan another one.” Jungkook nodded.

“That’s great.” An amused Jungkook responded. “What did you end up painting?” Taehyung looked to his left, pointing to the painting that was resting against the wall. “Oh, wow. That’s incredible.”

“I just need to finish shading. I was going to do it at some point today.” Jungkook looked down at his stack of paintings on the coffee table. “Hungry? I made some lunch.” He quickly added, before hopping up and heading into the kitchen.

A few hours had passed after lunch, and the boys decided to just start painting. Jungkook’s desire for mentoring has slowly just formed into a painting session once a week, with some advice sprinkled here and there as questions arose, and honestly, bother Jungkook and Taehyung couldn’t have asked for a better arrangement. Taehyung had his painting on his biggest canvas, allowing him to stand up and fill in the shading in the areas he had previously labeled in hopes to remember. He was working quite diligently, his brush furiously rubbing against the canvas to add dimension to the face, body, and background of the scene as if it was basking in the glow of the sun. Jungkook must have noticed Taehyung’s hard work because he spoke up with a question. However, it wasn’t a question about whether or not he should use a particular color scheme, and that took Taehyung slightly off of his guard.

“What makes you passionate, Hyung?” Jungkook asked. Taehyung turned his head to look at Jungkook when he asked this. He stalled his reply to see if Jungkook would add anything else to his abrupt statement, and he did. “Is it her?”

“…Didn’t I already answer that last time?” Taehyung asked curiously as his eyes wandered back to his painting.

“Well, yeah. But I asked if she inspired you then, not if she made you passionate. You can be inspired by anything but I think it won’t be anything special if there’s no passion in it. That’s why I turned to you for advice in the first place.” Taehyung sighed. Suddenly, he no longer felt like the wise, older mentor that he had enjoyed being up until this point. “Well, am I right?”

“I…I mean I guess,” Taehyung said. It would explain all of the sketches he’d made of her recently, all of the features he has gotten to put to paper and morph into something almost as beautiful as the real thing. “I just like to draw her. Is that weird?”

“When you word it like that…” Jungkook’s comment elicited chuckles from both of them. “I was just curious, because if passion lets you draw amazing things like this-.” He motioned to the painting that Taehyung was working on. “-then I mean come on. I could only wish to have that kind of passion when I work.”

“Seems like you do already Mr. Florist.” Taehyung teased. Jungkook laughed shyly, and Taehyung turned back to his painting, continuing to shade in his painting.

“Maybe I should reword my question,” Jungkook added. “…Do you think being in love makes you passionate?” Taehyungs brush stopped stroking the canvas, pressing against the canvas for a moment.

“Well, it can be a source for people, definitely, but-.”

“I mean for you, Hyung.” Jungkook corrected. Taehyung was silent for a moment, not looking at the younger boy though he can feel his eyes burning holes into his back. After a moment, he shrugged.

“I couldn’t tell you…” Taehyung said. “I’ve never been in love before.” Jungkook nodded, deciding to leave the conversation at that and turn back to his work. As the duo got back into focusing on their paintings, Taehyung’s eyes wandered towards his desk, where his small stack of haphazardly placed sketches laid. Through them, he could see different prominent features of you poking out into his view, from your cheeks to your adorably addicting grin. Love was something he never really experienced growing up unless you count the occasional adolescent crush. He had never been in love before, at least not before now, and honestly, he wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

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

Your night with Hoseok wasn’t much different from Taehyungs in terms of conversation. Hoseok had come over with some take-out and wine, much like he did every time that he stopped by knowing they would be doing work. However, it wasn’t long into the cutting and preparation of materials that Hoseok asked the dreaded “So tell me all about your date!”

“It was fine.” You said simply and hoped Hoseok would leave it at that. You and Hoseok both knew him well enough to know that was next to impossible.

“Fine is not detailed enough. What did you do, what happened? I’ve held off texting you about it because I knew I was coming over today and I’ve waited long enough!”

“Do you just find all your entertainment in my life?” you asked curiously. Hoseok only nodded, and you sighed. “All we did was have a picnic and paint! I sent you the picture of what I made and I told you it’s going up in the classroom Monday.”

“Yes, that’s all fine and good but I want to know like…what happened?” You raised an eyebrow at the way he emphasized his word, and Hoseok sighed. “Was it good enough to go on another one with him?”

“I…I don’t know. I told him I had a good time and would do it again but…I don’t know.” Hoseok’s eyes went a bit wide, and he leaned forward. You glanced up at him. “What are you staring at me like that for?”

“Did…did he kiss you or anything?”

“Hoseok!”

“I’m curious!” He gasped, grinning a bit. “I just want to know, that’s all!”

“I just…” you shook your head. “No. No, we didn’t kiss or anything like that, we just ate and he helped me with my painting a bit and that’s all.” Hoseok leaned back in his chair. “Besides, even if he tried to kiss me, I don’t think I would’ve gone in to accept it.”

“Why?” Hoseok asked curiously. You sighed, clasping your hands together and pressing them to your forehead as if they would help push out the words you wanted to share.

-------One Week Ago----

You had just watched as Taehyung and Hoseok walked out of the restaurant, Taehyung’s eyes falling in your direction as he made his way towards the door. Once he was out of your sight, you sighed. The sigh alerted Namjoon, who decided to look in the direction you were just in time to see the duo leaving the building.

“Hoseok and Taehyung? Didn’t think they would show up here? Did they know where we were coming?”

“No, I don’t think so.” You said simply. “I didn’t even know we were coming here, so I’ll be concerned if they managed to find out.” Namjoon chuckled a bit, taking a sip of his wine.

“Well, maybe they just wanted to see how lovely you look tonight.” Your eyes cast up to Namjoon, and all you could do in response was chuckle.

“Thank you, but my hair is a bit frizzy tonight so it’s not-.”

“No, it’s perfect.” He assured, offering you one of his gentlest smiles. “I think the frizzier hair suits you well. It looks more natural that way, you know?” He gently reached out, poking at a bit of hair on your forehead that was sticking out. You had to admit, it made you giggle a bit.

“Thank you.” You said softly.

As your dinner with Namjoon began to wrap, he paid the bill that was almost as long as your phone number and escorted you out with a hand resting gently on your hip. Upon walking out of the warm, heated building and into the slightly brisker air, it made you shiver slightly, instinctively scooting closer to Namjoon in the hope to find warmth at his side. Namjoon noticed immediately and was quick to tug off the jacket of his tux, sliding it over your shoulders. When you looked up at him, Namjoon smiled, his arm slipping around you as he led you down the street.

“It’s a nice night. Do you want to take a walk before I take you back home?”

“Okay.” You said softly, nodding your head. Both of you headed down the street, admiring the lights that were turning on to illuminate the street as you both walked down. “Thank you for dinner.” You said gently.

“Of course! I hope you enjoyed it.” He smiled happily. “I had a great time.”

“Me too. It was delicious.”

Both of you walked in silence for a little while, just enjoying the comfortable air that followed you both through the night. As Namjoon walked you back towards his car, he was quick to open up the door to the passenger’s side. As gentlemanly as ever. You smiled, quickly taking off his jacket and handing it back to him.

“Thank you for this.” You said softly. Namjoon was hesitant but took it back knowing well that you were about to be in his heated car. When his hand grasped on to it, a few his fingers pressed against your tight knuckles, which made you bit your lip. When you glanced up at Namjoon, you saw he was staring right back at you. The way his eyes captivated you, was unlike anything you had ever seen every time you got the chance to catch a glimpse. Regardless of how you felt going on a few dates with Namjoon, you had to admit he was extremely attractive, and the fact he asked you out at all was something that you would never wrap your head around. You must have been staring at him for far too long, because the next thing you knew, Namjoon quickly leaned forward, pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

The action was so sudden, it completely caught you off guard, transporting you back into the reality that you were faced with. What was going on?! Before you could give a proper reaction, Namjoon pulled back. It was only slightly, leaving a small gap between the two of you so that if either of you wanted to go in for another kiss, the travel would be short. You blinked, staring up at Namjoon with what must have been wide and confused eyes. Namjoon chuckled breathlessly, scratching his red cheek as two dimples poked out into view.

“Sorry, I uhm…” Namjoon couldn’t seem to find the right words to finish the thoughts swimming in his mind. Your fingertips reached up to your lips quickly, as if you could catch the feeling one more time simply by touching them. When your eyes raised back up to Namjoon, he blinked. “Are you okay?”

“Y…yes, I-.” Now you were the one lost for words, unsure of what you could say at this moment. That silence that overtook the both of you before returned, however, unlike before when it was comforting, now it was totally awkward. Namjoon’s eyes widened, and he quickly covered his mouth.

“Oh God, I made you so uncomfortable, I’m so sorry, I should have asked or something first, I-.”

“No, no!” You said quickly, waving your hands. “Namjoon I just…it just took me off guard, that’s all. But…I guess it makes sense you’d want to do that…we’ve been on several dates now…” You could see the guilt wash over his face as he ran a hand over it, hoping it would wipe the guilt away, but to no avail. He quickly let out a deep sigh, and you looked down at your feet.

“Uhm, here….” Namjoon quickly helped you into the car. Once you were settled, you watched him close the door and walk around to the other side. Your eyes trailed him all the way around, and you could see his hands run through his hair as he slid in beside you.

No matter how fast Namjoon could have driven, that awkward silence followed behind you, filling the car with tension so thick you almost felt as if you were suffocating. For a while, you looked down at your lap. You had no idea what to say at this moment, it was still shocking that you had even experienced it. As your eyes trailed over to see if Namjoon’s reaction had at all changed, you noticed that his eyes were fixated only on the road. One of his hands gripped the steering wheel, while the other covered his mouth, almost as if he was thinking while he drove. You didn’t know what to say but felt like you should say something.

“…Sorry.” You said softly. Maybe not that. Namjoon immediately looked over at you, eyes wide.

“S-. Why are you apologizing? You have nothing to apologize for. I should be on my knees begging for your forgiveness.” A small smile escaped your lips.

“I feel bad I gave such an uncomfortable reaction.” You said softly. “I didn’t mean to…it just happened. But I didn’t…mind it? I don’t know.”

Namjoon offered you a small smile. “Feels like we’re back in high school, doesn’t it? All these weird emotions in our minds yet not enough wisdom yet to sort it all into its proper places.”

“All these years later and clearly I still can’t.” You added. Namjoon laughed a bit. “I never really dated in high school, either, so I never had the experience.”

“Neither did I. I can’t remember the last serious relationship I was in.” You nodded. “But I am sorry that I made you uncomfortable. I just…I’ve kind of wanted to do that for a while.” You nodded.

“…Thank you, I think.” You both shared another chuckle before you pressed your hands together. As Namjoon pulled up to your apartment, you glanced up at where your window was, then looked back at Namjoon. “I’ll see you Monday morning at drop-off, then.” You smiled happily. Namjoon smiled.

“Yes, see you then.” He said. When you slid out of the car, you offered him another shy wave before heading up the steps and into your apartment building. Namjoon leaned forward to watch you, making sure you made it in alright.

This part you didn’t see, but once you were out of his sight, Namjoon slammed his hands angrily on the steering wheel, cursing at himself for his stupidity.

--------------Present Day---------

“HE KISSED YOU?” Hoseok shouted, standing up so quickly that the chair he was resting on flew back and slammed down onto the floor. The sound made you both flinch in surprise, and Hoseok quickly turned to pick it up. “You never told anyone that part!”

“It wasn’t anyone’s business, that’s why.” You spoke. “Besides, if I said something then Seokjin would have been losing his mind, and I did not want to deal with it.”

“He had no right to do that!”

“And who are you to tell me or anyone else what they can do on a date?” You asked, frowning. Your harsh tone stopped Hoseok in his tracks, and his tense body quickly began to relax muscle by muscle.

“But still, he….” As you watched Hoseok mutter his words, you saw his face droop and his eyes grow slightly darker, as if he was trying to escape this reality and wake up in a new one. You frowned. “He did that…and then Taehyung, he…” Hoseok plopped back down on the chair, shoulders slumped in frustration. “I can’t believe that he did that….”

“Are you okay?” You asked softly.

“Are you?” Hoseok gasped. “He just surprises you with a kiss then acts like everything is okay. He didn’t even look awkward when he dropped off Kai that next Monday…”

“He didn’t have to. I told him it wasn’t a big deal.”

“B-but it is a big deal!” Hoseok said quickly.

“…Hoseok, what’s wrong with you? Why are you getting so worked up about this?”

“Well, there’s Namjoon who's taking you out on dates and now starting to kiss you. Then there’s Taehyung who just took you out, and…” Hoseok’s shoulders slumped. “What’s going to be the point of having me around then?” For a moment, you couldn’t tell if Hoseok was teasing you with that question, however, even if he was, the truth behind his statement and the fear that lied within it became more prevalent as Hoseok crossed his arms. “It already took a while after we made plans to hang out to actually hang out.”

“Hobi…” you said softly.

“I know you don’t want to date me, that’s…well, it hurts but there’s nothing I can do about it but I…I can’t handle all of this anymore. It’s stressing me out.” You quickly reached out, taking Hoseok’s hands tightly into yours. He glanced up at you, a slight pout on his face much like that of a little child

“Hoseok even if I date a thousand different people in my lifetime, they’re not going to be my best friend like you are.” Slowly, Hoseok’s head lowered until he was resting his forehead on your hands, which he was tightly gripping with his own. You managed to lift your thumb, gently stroking his hair in hopes that would soothe him a bit.

“Please don’t date a thousand different people, I can’t fight that many people.” You smiled a bit at Hoseok’s playful comment. “I just don’t want to feel unimportant to you, that’s all. Hearing these stories about your dates, as much as I want to know, it kills me inside.”

“You won’t ever be unimportant to be, Hobi~.” You cooed reassuringly. Hoseok took a moment to remain in that position, silent as he relaxed into the feeling of your thumb, and eventually your entire hand, lifting into his hair and stroking through it gently. As he did, you pursed your lips.

As you watched Hoseok rest there, you began thinking about Namjoon, Taehyung, and Hoseok. How on earth did you of all people manage to get three guys like them roped into your life? And how the hell were you going to work all of this out? What kind of relationship did you want to be a part of? Did you even want to be a part of a relationship right now? Obviously, you do if you’re accepting dates left and right. You thought to yourself. If that were the case, how on earth were you going to be able to determine the path that was meant for you? You knew the simple answer to all of these questions:

You had no fucking idea.

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

While you and Kim Taehyung were thinking about your love lives in your unique ways, the weekend came to a close and schools opened back up for the next school week. With this, a certain Jeon Jungkook strolled into his high school. This was the most nervous he had ever been in his life, next to maybe when he graduated from middle school and had to give a speech to the entire room. However, he wanted to set his plan into action as soon as possible, and he knew the longer he waited, the longer it would take for him to do this, eventually meaning he would never do it. So, it was now or never.

As Jungkook walked into the school, a few girls approached him to talk or wished him a good morning from the other side of the hall, giggling and sighing when he offered a hello back. He was being friendly, however, he had one mission that he knew he was going to complete before the morning came to a close. Entering his classroom, he saw her. Sitting at her desk in the front of the classroom, young Moon Nashin was talking with a small group of her friends. She was only alerted of Jungkook’s attention when one of her friends called out to wish him a good morning. She was quick to follow suit.

“Good morning, Jungkook!” She said happily. Jungkook nodded, walking up to her.

“Good morning.” He said softly. His hands were shaking so they were stuck in his pockets for right now. “Uhm…Nashin… I bought you something, and I want to give it to you if that’s okay.” Nashin’s eyes widened in surprise at the news, and she turned to her friends, who were just as shocked as she was.

“Okay!” She said cheerily. “That’s so exciting, what did you get me?” Jungkook nodded, setting his backpack on the floor and opening it. He quickly lifted a small bouquet. However, the bouquet was not flowers, at least not ones with a floral scent that could be smelt. These flowers only smelt of dried paint, of the hard work and passion Jungkook put into his art. When he stuck the little bouquet out to Nashin, her eyes went even wider, and Jungkook saw her face light up. “Wh-.”

“You said you liked flowers, but I didn’t know which ones. So, I painted you a whole bunch. And my Hyung helped me think of a unique idea to give them to you like they’re a real bouquet so…here.” He handed them to her as she rose from her seat, and she immediately took them. “You inspired me to paint a lot of pretty things recently. I wanted to thank you for that.” Nashin looked up at Jungkook and offered a wide, excited smile.

“Thank you so much! These are beautifully done!” By now, the rest of the class had gathered around to examine what Nashin had received. A few other girls in the room were whispering, jealous of her for her amazing gift, while boys were kicking themselves yet again for not being like the Jeon Jungkook. He only offered a shy smile, scratching his neck. Before he knew it, Nashin quickly embraced Jungkook in a tight hug. This startled him immediately, catching him off guard and making him stumble a little.

“Tell your mentor he’s a genius, this was so thoughtful and I’m so happy I get to be your inspiration, Jungkook!” 

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[chaoticneutralwriter]

Misery and its Company

As the saying goes, misery loves company now that you’ve officially joined the ‘can’t go to a BTS concert’ club but you find company in probably the last person anyone would think of (even if he thinks you’re the one possessed by a demonic entity).

guardian demon!Jimin x reader

word count: 7.3k

genre: supernatural, fluff, romance, comedy, slow-burn

Related works: see masterlist under guardian demon!jimin au

Continuation of Thirty Second Heartbreak

A/N: And so the ball starts rolling.... (SORRY FOR THE WAIT AS PER USUAL TAT!! But I still love you~)

You're met with silence, which is a bit surprising coming from him since he always seems to have a sassy comment ready to dish out. You spend the time finishing up on typing your message before you finally put your phone down and your eyes naturally stray over to him. The first thing you see is just how confused he looks, the most you've seen him – one perfectly raised eyebrow, eyes scrunched and the corner of his full lips slightly downturn; the image almost manages to crack a smile on you.

Right when you're about to voice your own confusion, he asks. “So what of it?”

The heavy sigh escapes from you before you can stifle it, already feeling the weight of your post-concert depression except you haven't even went yet and the slightest tinge of annoyance for Jimin's tactless question.

“Well, in case you haven't noticed, I'm not made of money and even if I were to go, the cost of the tickets alone is a lot already but now I have to take into account for travel and a place to stay.” You explain, tapping back into your group chat to also continue this conversation there too. “Also, even trying for a ticket is hard in itself; my friends and I were lucky to score some the last time they were here.”

“Then why not try again? You can always split costs for travel and hotel can't you?”

“They're pretty much tight on money too.”

You hear him scoff lightly, cocking his head to one side still very much not understanding your point. “I thought you were pretty much dedicated to BTS, ready to drop the ball for them the moment they announce anything.”

“Not like I don't want to go! It's just...” You feel your frustrations begin to boil over; frustration for not having your city included in the stops, for having restraints like distance, time, money, and that no matter how much you even (theoretically) try to work out a plausible plan, it still wouldn't work. “There's too many strings I need to pull, and not just on my end, to make this work.”

The words pained you even if you were the one who spoke them. They don't stop the dull yearning in your chest that had settled there, only making it worse, to the point where your friend's joke about 'YOLO-ing' it for this concert is looking more and more enticing as you reply laughing to it. Alas, the logical side wins you over at the end of the day, the need for sustaining yourself in the long run and upholding responsibilities smothering out the more impulsive side of you that flares up at the most unexpected of times.

“It's fine.” You say after a while, more to yourself you think than it is for Jimin who's been observing you quietly from the side. “The trailer said that there were 'more dates to come', so I'm gonna put my faith that they will come.”

“Because in BTS we trust?” The demon snorts and the underlying light-heartedness of his tone in the comment successfully tickles a small smile out of you.

“Yeah,” You laugh lightly, “In BTS we trust.”

-

He says that, but it doesn't take a genius to figure out that it's not as okay as it seems. Days pass by from the initial announcement of the tour, you go on about your life as if everything is fine, like the dog sitting in the burning house type of way.

Jimin still doesn't quite understand your logic in any of this. He gets you've got other commitments in life (school and work) and also money hesitancy, but...this is BTS we're talking about – the one thing that brings joy to you and for all the times you've proclaimed your undying love for them, you choose to pass up the opportunity to actually see them? Because of, what he thinks, are materialistic reasons? What if this was your only chance for another two-three years? He only thinks this because he's honestly seen people with way worse odds against them and yet the minute they get the chance at something they want, they jump on it, money and responsibilities be damned. Impulsivity, the very core to the folly of humans in the best way he's seen it – caused by giving in to the temptations of their own poison, their own kryptonite and often times, lead to their own demise.

He cocks his head again, lost in thought; you're so confusing because by all means you should've done the same; be blinded by your love in pursuit to chase that temporary high, only to crash and burn afterwards in dealing with the consequences. But here, logic wins over your heart's desire and willingly you suffer under the pretense of blind faith instead.

Ah, he thinks in realization, is this simply you choosing between the lesser of the poisons?

He catches a smile creeping up at the corner of his lips at the possibility. Interesting...

“What are you smiling so dreamily to yourself? Thinking about setting a poor sap on fire?”

The ghost of a smile instantly vanishes at the sound of another presence and Jimin's face quickly takes on a more irritable one.

“Yes, in fact, I actually had you in mind.”

“Oh dear brother, you're going to have to do better than that.” Jungkook sidles up to the older demon, plopping himself down on the edge of the building he's found the guardian on. The night air is still cool, but seeing as there is no wind to be felt it made sitting outside pleasant, even more so with the view of the city lights illuminating from below. But Jimin is not here for the view, never really has been while Jungkook on the other hand, is here to pick apart his mentor and friend's brain. Jimin's blasé response to Jungkook's follow up all the more intrigues the young demon because that's a clear sign that something else was on his mind. Something more important and he's willing to bet money on what that could be. So he waits, bides his time to see if he'll crack. It pays off.

“Humor me,” Jimin's smooth lilt breaks through the silence, the only other sounds were the bustling of cars passing by below, too faint to be a disturbance to the two demons in their own world atop of another. “If one was given the chance to see the one thing that brings them joy, with the prospect of probably never seeing them again, would you still forgo your responsibilities, even if they'll most likely lead to your demise in the long run? Or do you not, instead, live a stable life but suffer for an undetermined amount of time on the what-ifs?”

Jungkook straightens up, the metaphorical throwing him off a bit. To be honest, he wasn't really sure what he was expecting but nevertheless, he's willing to take a whack at it. Who knows, it might lead to some more telling things. Crossing his arms, he answers after giving it some serious thought.

“Depends on what one values.” Jungkook responds vaguely enough. “If desire and satisfaction rules above all else, then indulging in ones joy even at the cost of your demise in the long run is but a small matter.” He pauses, tilting his head much like a puppy, as a thought comes into mind. “What's that expression mortals like to say? Curiousity killed the cat but satisfaction brought it back? Makes you think they rather prefer acting on impulse than to go through a slow death of not knowing the possibilities from trying.”

Jimin goes quiet again in contemplation; from Jungkook's answer, even he eludes to the fact that humans would naturally fall into that sort of trap – just like how Eve did with the snake and the apple in the Garden of Eden. But then there's you, who's brain triumphs over your heart even when presented with your figurative apple.

“Why do you ask, brother?” Jungkook speaks up after the silence becomes too unbearable for him. “Last I remember, you're not much of a riddler type.”

He doesn't get an immediate answer and it further prods at the younger demon's curiousity. So his mind starts to race, pulling up information he already knew and piecing them together in hopes of coming up with something coherent. Jimin has always been aware of the weak will of humans, ruefully laments on them in fact, for making his job as a demon very lacklustre so why would it get him all hot and bothered now? Come to think of it, he's hadn't had a thrill since meeting Jungkook and....

The light bulb goes off in the brunette's head and his face does not hide his eureka moment. Jimin is immediately suspicious.

“What's with the stupid look?” He asks, eyes narrowing.

“....this is about Y/N isn't it?”

“Wouldn't you like to know.”

“So it is. I knew it!”

“I didn't even say it is!”

Jungkook makes a knowing hum in the back of his throat, noise rising in pitch with thin lips curling at the edges to give his cheeky grin a very bunny-like quality. It takes everything in Jimin to not smack the younger upside the head but with much effort, he settles with rolling his eyes hard and shaking his head, turning away to gaze out at the city instead.

“Has something come up recently with Y/N?” Jungkook persists however, doe eyes wide and leaning into Jimin's personal space. “Did you two get into a philosophical argument? Clashed on morals?”

Jimin remains determined to ignore him, and Jungkook could feel his eye twitch at his friend's stubbornness. So he decides to switch tactics; do the one thing that'll get on the older demon's nerve in one second flat: make absurd assumptions. Leaning in closer for dramatic effect, Jungkook whispers scandalously, much like a gossiping housewife.

“Has she committed a sin?”

The reaction was instantaneous.

“W-What?! What are you even talking about?! Of course not!” Jimin sputters and it brings indescribable joy to Jungkook to see him so flustered (a very rare sight). He can't help the bark of laughter that has his head tipping back but quickly recovers to placate the older demon so that he doesn't end up ditching him with no answers to his odd behaviour.

“Okay, okay then what? You seem awfully troubled and I could only guess it has something to do with your darling of a charge.”

The glare sent his way could kill, dark eyes flashing dangerously red before they flicker back to their muted brown. Jungkook puts his hands up disarmingly, watching the other demon release a heavy sigh while running a hand through his faded midnight blue locks. Jimin stares unseeingly out at the cityscape for a moment longer before he gives in.

“You know how Y/N loves that boy band of hers', BTS right?”

“Oh yeah, the ones who's faces we borrowed, not to mention her room is a reminder of it in our every waking moment and we don't even sleep. Why?”

The corner of Jimin's lips pulls up without resistance in the way Jungkook answered the question, like he was asked what the colour of the sky was. His big doe eyes stare at Jimin, blinking perplexedly.

“Well,” The older demon starts, rolling his head to one side to deliberately drag it out. He hates having to confide in someone, it goes against a lot of his demonic nature but then again, he's currently working as some mortal's guardian now so he can't exactly say this is a first – but that doesn't mean he still doesn't dread every second of this. With a heave of his shoulders, he spills, “They're doing a world tour right now and one of their stops is in the area.”

Jungkook's eyes grow impossibly in size at the news, mouth dropping open in shock and surprise. “Holy shit! I bet Y/N's freaking losing it right now! Is that what's this is all about? Did you tell her she can't go 'cus she's broke or something?”

“Quite the opposite actually.” Jimin cuts in sharply, deadpan. “She's decided not to go because the stop isn't exactly in the city but a few hours bus or plane ride away and something about not having friends agreeing to go, even after the fact I said I was fully expecting her to go too.”

That makes Jungkook pause, completely taken aback. So much so that it makes him zone out and at any moment, the X-Files theme music will start playing in the distant. Jimin looks on in disbelief, not really sure how to react but definitely knows that he's having a hard time keeping a straight face. Finally, after it seems like Jungkook's returned back into his vessel, he snaps.

“That's ridiculous! How can she not go see them?! This is her life's work! Has she lost her mind?! Are you sure we're even talking about the same person here?” He says it all in one breath, eyes still so piercing that Jimin leans back with a concerned furrow of his brow.

“Don't ask me, ask her because I would like to know too.”

“You're right, I should. There's just no way.” Jungkook nods to himself, abruptly standing with a fierce determination that Jimin had to thank his supernatural reflexes once again to be able to stop the younger demon in time from bursting through your room at five in the morning.

-

It becomes even more painfully obvious as the first days of the tour comes around the corner. Jungkook probably (read: most likely) made matters worst by doing what he couldn't do the first time he heard the news of you not going out of your way to any of the tour stops; ask why in the seven hells you're not doing it. After having to explain to him about how being a broke college student, knee deep in debt (and climbing), working at a part-time, minimum wage job will probably have you end up on the streets before you can say 'BTS', (and Jimin throwing a warning fireball shot at his head) he drops the topic.

But the salt has been rubbed into your metaphorical wound and you're still feeling the burn, as much as you don't want to admit it. It's not like you haven't been to a BTS concert before, in fact, you had gone the previous year. In hindsight, there are many fans who wouldn't even have the slightest chance ever of seeing them for a number of reasons; you're blessed enough to have them in your country at all. But BTS, oh BTS, when you're in deep, it's deep. You don't think you can put into words how happy they make you feel, how they became something more than just a K-Pop band you follow because they have great music (bonus that they're all ethereally beautiful, inside and out), how much they influence your life in small ways that cause a bigger effect. It may seem ridiculous to other people, but for those who don't understand won't see how they helped you re-connect with old friends you never thought you could be close with again, comfort you in your hard times with their songs and letters, and helped remind you that you're doing great even when it doesn't seem like it.

They're the ones who tell you the things you need to hear the most.

A heavy sigh escapes you before you realize, and it seems to make your whole body sag. You're on your last few weeks of the semester, crunch time and exams are looming over your head and instead of studying, all you can think of is how you're not living your best life right now.

“That's the fifteenth time you've sighed.”

You throw a halfhearted glare behind you where the demon stands, back leaning against the closed door with his arms crossed coolly. You only let out a grunt in response, turning back around to stare vacantly at your laptop screen, trying to force yourself to read through your online textbook chapters and go through Powerpoint slides on God knows what anymore – the subjects are all blurring together at this rate. You've also have given up on colour coding your notes along the way, finding it too troublesome to switch between the different coloured pens and highlighters you have so needless to say, you're on your way to failing your exams.

You don't even pay any mind when you feel Jimin's presence creep up beside you, your desk creaking at the added weight caused by him pressing his hips into it to peer down at you like a house cat wanting attention and is thinking about sitting on your keyboard to get it.

It goes on for a few minutes but after reading the same two sentences again for the fifth time, you let out a loud, ragged breath, dropping the pen you're holding and letting your head fall forward.

“What do you want?” You ask tiredly.

He doesn't reply right away as if giving the answer some thought before he says in a very deadpanned voice, “You look awful.”

You shoot him an unamused side glance that's devoid of any real effort, picking up your pen to twirl it distractedly in between your fingers as you slouch further in your seat, practically wallowing in your misery. “Yeah, well that's what having five different exams to do within two weeks will do to you. Now, be a dear and leave me alone to die.”

You hear a quiet snort but you really do have half the mind to actually ask him to send you to literal Hell if it means that you'll get out of having to write these exams. You're pretty sure that having your limbs pulled and set aflame will be much more painless than this. But alas, as if reading your mind, Jimin saunters away without another word, footsteps quietly receding and you're surprised he listened.....Or he really is leaving you alone to die a slow and painful death. Damn, there goes your chance.

Looking back at your screen has you wanting to bash your head against the desk and though you really want to just call it a day, you need to get this chapter finished. So after a few more mental pep talk, you haul yourself up begrudgingly to start reading through the paragraphs of texts again.

You make it about three pages away from the end when you're pulled out of your tunnel vision by a hand reaching over to place a mug of steaming tea in front of you. It takes you a second to let the image settle into your mind but once you process that Jimin had went and got you a cup of tea in a small gesture to ease your stress, your eyes immediately trail up to who it belonged to, slightly widen at the realization. When you meet his own gaze however, your face begins to warm.

He quirks one perfectly shaped eyebrow at you but otherwise, his face remains passive. It makes you feel silly, with your racing heart and shaking eyes struggling to remain focused on him. In moments like these, you can't hide behind the facade of being annoyed by his teasing, letting you become just a tad bit too vulnerable in front of him. It makes you not know how to act which makes you fumble and make a fool out of yourself. You hated that feeling, so you shy away, dropping your gaze to the mug of tea and hands reaching up to cup the ceramic with a murmured thanks.

You miss the way he stares at you for a moment longer, just taking in your slightly disheveled hair, the way your shoulders slouch, eyes drooping and the mindless doodles that litter on the pages of your notes, having long lost their focus on the subject at hand. He watches as you delicately hold the mug up to your lips, giving a steady blow to cool the liquid inside before taking your first sip. A soft hum of approval escapes you and already Jimin can see the drink easing your tired body and mind. It's only then that he turns away, letting his head roll back towards the ceiling. Jimin lets you have your moment of peace, letting the companionable silence take over. His eyes drift over to your bedside clock and seeing the time reaching into the early morning hours has a small smile tugging at his lips. It seems you two always had a habit of being in each other's company during these times, but perhaps given the nature in how you met, it's only fitting.

Turning his head back to you again, Jimin finds that you've made it halfway through your mug of tea and decides then that it'll be in your best interest to head to bed.

“You should sleep. It's getting late.”

“....But I need to finish this chapter.”

Even as you go to protest, Jimin can hear the drowsiness in your voice as well as the reluctance to continue. He shifts his body to face you, towering over you as you peer up at him with a slight pout to your lips. Honestly he doesn't know why you're so adamant on pushing yourself like this when you're clearly very tired but a part of him does respect you for your tenacity.... Or he should say stubbornness. Either way, he can't have you fainting all because you choose to bypass sleep but furthermore, what kind of demon would he be if he's not tempting you into the more self-indulgent things in life.

You instinctively shrink back from the demon when he leans down slightly, letting one hand rest against the back of your chair. You watch with trepidation as his dark, alluring eyes roam over your face in an almost calculative manner, and the way the light of your desk lamp makes them glimmer as well doesn't help the growing suspicion you have that he's up to no good. As you swallow nervously, you see from the corner of your eyes his free hand reaching up to the tea mug you have clenched in your hand still, prying it away from your crushing hold with relative ease.

“Now, Y/N....” Jimin's voice flows out like velvet honey – rich, smooth and dulcet, like a Siren's song drawing you in, powerless. Vaguely, you had the thought that Jimin was using a bit of his demonic powers to enthrall you into submission but another part of you argued that you're still very much aware of your surroundings, of what he's doing and that perhaps, to your utter astonishment, you're willingly allowing it to happen; maybe going as far to say that you enjoy it.

You register the gentle way he places the mug onto the desk, never once breaking eye contact with you before you feel the ghost of his touch along your shoulder, nudging you so that you swivel towards him. Your body reacts, goosebumps erupting and as you see him lean in just a hair more, your breath catches in your throat. You watch, hyper aware as his pillowy lips part and he whispers huskily.

“Why don't you be a dear, and come to bed....”

God yes, the words were right at the tip of your tongue, mind unable to distinguish between meaning the bed or something else entirely, but you would've embarrassingly said it in the same way as someone who just got asked if they wanted to eat a plate of the creamiest chicken Alfredo....for free.

But Jimin, Park impeccable timing, the Biggest Tease™ Jimin, knows when exactly to leave you high and dry because the next thing you know, you're being hauled upwards and the swooping sensation of your stomach dropping like you're on a roller coaster kicks your muddled brain right back into fight or flight mode, starting with an undignified cross between a yelp and a loud, choked gasp escaping from your lips. You're jostled into his arms, limbs flailing between trying to reorient yourself and slapping a hand over your mouth to prevent you from waking up Jaehee (and possibly your neighbour). Jimin takes it like a champ, stupidly well-coordinated and steady throughout it all (even has the gall to snigger at you) as he nonchalantly turns to deposit you onto your bed.

You bounce with a squeak but immediately shoot upright, grabbing the first pillow you touch to smack him with it, only the weight and momentum don't add up for an effective throw and instead, Jimin gets a light pat that barely puts a wrinkle in his luxurious black, lace-up collar, tunic shirt (probably made of Egyptian cotton). He makes a show of that by dusting off the spot where the pillow had hit, unperturbed.

“What is wrong with you!?” You hiss indignantly, red in the face. “I'm not a sack of potatoes! Don't – !” You cut yourself off to chuck another pillow at him, this time it flies upwards to his face but he catches it midair. Clearly, you're proving yourself not to be the most athletic but at least you stopped the snide comment that was about to leave his mouth. Unfortunately, the sly smile is still on his face when he lowers the pillow, casually fluffing it as if you had voluntarily given it to him and he's graciously accepted to do it out of the kindness of his heart.

“Now, now my darling Y/N, I know it's past your bedtime so there's no need to throw a tantrum.”

“I'm not a child, Jimin.” You snap back, eyes narrowing on him. “I need to finish my exam notes tonight so I can start on making other notes on my other exams.”

“You can do that tomorrow.”

“I literally have three pages left!”

“Exactly.” He says, plopping the pillow back at the head of the bed. “It won't take you that long. Besides, I can't have you sabotaging my way to getting into the good graces of heaven just because you decide to pull a quick one on me.”

That made you raise an eyebrow. “Good graces...? Oh, right.”

You completely forgot about that; the whole point of Jimin being here. Now that it's been brought up, Jimin's good track record, by the looks of it thus far, meant that he was well on his way to getting let off the hook for...whatever heinous crime he committed against heaven. The thought suddenly has your mind spiralling with questions.

“Are you like expecting their letter of approval some time soon or what?” It slips out before you can really think about it. The demon only gives a noncommittal shrug, tossing the first pillow you threw back onto the bed from the floor.

“Who knows – we never know what heaven is up to half the time. Nevertheless, I'd rather not take any risks so,” He redirects the topic back to you and your deplorable sleep schedule seamlessly with a pointed look, “we can do this the easy way, or the hard way.”

You scoff a laugh at that, crossing your arms,“You just said you weren't going risk your perfect track record and now you're threatening me to sleep?”

“Oh cherub, I didn't say I was going to use physical force to make you sleep you know.” Jimin smiles with a tilt of his head, making his fringes fall lightly over his eyes....that were beginning to glow red; at first dimly before gradually becoming more luminous. An immediate chill washes over you, your initial stubbornness shrinking back down by ten notches and unease takes over.

“I can simply ask and you would listen.”

Before you can ask what he meant by that, you hear another voice whisper in the back of your, lie down.

Soon you feel your own body seize up and against your will, you're lying back on your bed. The only thing you could do is stare up in shock at Jimin who shoots back a smug smirk.

“W-What did you do to me?!” You whisper shout, voice cracking when for the life of you, you find that you can't get yourself to sit back up or move any of your limbs for that matter.

“Your mind is in such a worn and tired state that it's easy for me to take control, bend you to my will you could say.” He replies, matter of fact. Jimin blinks and the eerie glow vanishes along with the numbness of losing control of your body. You immediately do a pat down to ensure that that's the case and once satisfied, you shoot a hard glare his way.

“That's not fair.”

“It is doll; you could have easily stopped it but in your state, I highly doubt that.”

And being the dumbass that you are, you shoot up in retaliation (and maybe even out of pettiness), but is met with the same constricting force that had restrained you earlier. Jimin is unfazed, not a single hair out of place, one hand cupping his cheek with a sickly sweet smile staring down at your struggling form.

“We can do this all night darling; you know I don't sleep.”

A few more minutes of silent fighting with him no where near breaking a sweat and you about to sweat buckets, you let out a frustrated groan, letting go of the strain you've been putting on yourself in attempts to break free of his hold. It's then that he relents, your body automatically becoming loose against the mattress, too tired to even think about trying to lift a finger and it's with a belated scowl of annoyance that you realized you just played yourself.

“Sweet dreams cherub. You'll thank me later.” Jimin says a little too smugly. In a last ditch effort to getting the last laugh, you limply swing your arm at him, hoping to land an indignant smack to his person but as expected, he dances out of the way in time, giggling all the way.

-

Contrary to what Jimin said, you're not so thankful. Well....Sure, you did get a fairly well rested sleep but in terms of progress with your study notes....

“What are you doing?”

You minimize the window so that your digital textbook could be seen on the screen instead, going back to pretend like you were in the middle of writing down a note.

“Studying.”

“Right....” You hear him drag the word out as he saunters over to obnoxiously lean over you to reach your laptop. “And not, oh I don't know, scrolling through your Twitter feed to read everyone freaking out about tickets going on sale in half an hour?”

Jimin takes the time to click on your hidden window right at that moment to pull up the receipts. You swat his hand away, hitting with a satisfying smack but all he does is squeak a laugh as he pulls away and you're left red-faced in embarrassment anyways. You throw down your pen in order to rest your head in your hands, heaving out a heavy sigh.

“I can't help it....” You nearly whine. “It's stressing me out even when I'm not going to buy one anyways. Like I should be but I'm not and my mind is just screaming at me why?”

“You know what that is?” Jimin singsongs from his place on your bed, reclining back on it as if he owns it. “It's your gut telling you that you should.”

You shoot a glare his way. “If you think you can tempt me this time then no.”

He shrugs, turning his attention back on his phone. “Your loss.”

Minutes tick by and though you valiantly truck through half a chapter more, once the clock struck its half hour mark, you find yourself unconsciously pulling up one of the ticket web page (you know, just out of curiousity). As expected, the site is borderline malfunctioning probably from the rush of people on their server and on top of that, there's this new queue line setup that you have to go through before even getting to the seat selection screen.

You're currently behind 250 other people.

You feel dejected already, knowing that even if you had wanted to get a ticket, the chances of that are slim to none, just as you had predicted.

“Wow....what is that?” Jimin's breath brushes over your ear so closely that you jump at the sudden proximity. You run a hand over your face, trying to calm your racing heart before addressing the demon.

“It looks like a new queuing system to buy tickets, I guess to stop bots or something....”

“Huh, well shit.” He chuffs, “I'd say getting into hell is a lot easier than that, by the looks of it.”

You laugh dryly, watching the little running man on screen run as if his life depended on it but has yet to move even an inch forward (wow, story of your life). “Aren't you a demon? Don't you have some black magic for this kind of stuff, like cheating the system?”

He hums, tilting his head from side to side. “I can...”

You hate yourself for perking up at the idea, wide eyes following Jimin as he moves languidly back over to your bed. He takes his time to flop back and get comfortable, bringing an arm up to cushion behind his head while pulling out his phone before he notices your laser beam eyes. The sight causes his lips to quirk.

“There are some strings I can pull if you want the tickets that badly, but as with most demonic magic, it'll be at the expense of someone else.”

You deflate, brows furrowing at the statement. “Expense? How?”

“Simple – for you to get the tickets, someone else will lose their chance, no matter how good the odds were for them.” Jimin puts plainly, bringing his phone down. “So do you want to? Just say the word.”

He holds up a hand in a way that looks like he's about to snap his fingers, eyes faintly glowing in that reddish hue. You swallow, watching with morbid fascination that literally all it would take is a snap of his fingers and the tides would turn in your favour. You could have something to look forward to once all the stress of exams and a school year is over; the perfect escape to just forget about your worries for a while.

But you tear your eyes away, letting out a sigh that has you slumping your shoulders.

“No, it's fine.”

It wouldn't be fair, you'd rather try with your own chances and not have to live with the guilt of ruining someone else's because you so happen to have a demon to your advantage (you don't think anyone could say that in their lifetime). You know it'll eat you alive.

Jimin raises an eyebrow at you but acquiesces, lowering his hand almost disappointingly. He watches you close the ticket window and then go back to reading your textbook, the only sounds between the two of you is the scratching of your pen on paper as you take notes. After a moment more, Jimin huffs quietly to himself.

“You're no fun....”

-

You continue to read through your textbooks for the rest of the day, stopping only to eat and take few short breaks (snacking, getting a drink, showering etc). Even when you feel like you're not taking in any information by the time the sun has gone down, you stubbornly write down everything that might be of significance. As for your guardian demon, the last you saw of him was earlier that afternoon when he had offered to get the tickets by shadier means. You figured at some point he had gotten bored and wandered off to probably tempt more unfortunate souls around the city.

By the time you decided you've had enough and should probably head to bed in preparation for your first exam of the week, it was already half past twelve. You can only praise the sun that the class was at least an afternoon one. But in spite of that, you find that you can't fall asleep once your head hits the pillow and you've settled under your covers.

You toss and you turn repeatedly, trying desperately to shut off your racing mind. Of course, you think ruefully with your eyes shut tight but very much still awake, that the one time you try to be a decent human being and go to sleep early, your mind decides to have a crisis – asking unhelpful hypotheticals like 'are you sure you've studied enough?', 'can you answer this particular question right now if you're asked it?', or 'what if you'll never see BTS again for another three or four years? You're probably missing your one and only chance right now', 'hey, remember that one thing you did when you were sixteen? Man you're such a –'

“You know you'd make a very poor actress from the way you're pretending to be asleep.”

“I'm not trying to pretend.” You grumble, finally giving up and letting your eyes fall back open. As per usual, it takes a while before they adjust to start distinguishing shapes in the darkness of your room and from there, you see the unmistakable figure of Jimin by your door. You shoot him one pointed look before going back to stare aimlessly at your ceiling and after a silence passes between you two, you dejectedly admit, “I can't sleep.”

“I can see that.”

“Maybe it's the pre-exam jitters or something, like I feel like I'm gonna blank out as soon as I see the papers.” You find yourself ranting to him, maybe in hopes of trying elevate your worries or lull you enough to finally sleep. Either way, it has you feeling like you're in a psychology session with Jimin as your psychologist – which you should not have someone as a psychologist....or anyone for that matter. You run a hand down your face, refraining from groaning as you catch your mind racing with ridiculous thoughts again when you should SLEEPING.

You feel a dip in the bed and you don't need to look up to know who it is.

“Humans are so easily troubled by their own minds....” You hear him sigh. “I'm sure you'll do fine.”

You huff one back in return,“As if you – ”

“Like I said cherub, you're funny but not dumb. You're just getting in your head again.” Jimin says this as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. You're surprisingly touched by his words despite his blasé tone but you know by now how to read Jimin's sincerity. It warms your cheeks and makes you fidget with the sheets by your hands.

“....You're very bold to assume I won't totally bomb this exam.” You can't help deflecting. You feel him shift as if to shrug his shoulders.

“Well, when all else fails, you can bullshit your way. You're good at that right?”

A puff of air escapes through your nose, the smile threatening to overtake your face. You swat lightly at him, the back of your hand unfortunately meeting the bonier end of his knee. You immediately recoil hissing in pain. He lightly snickers.

“Sleep cherub.”

“I told you I can't.”

“Count sheeps then.”

The suggestion makes you crane your neck to give him a raised eyebrow and a face that clearly asks, ‘are you serious?’ When all you’re met is silence, you’re surprised that he’s actually serious. But you’re also getting desperate at this point, at your ropes end so you think, why not give a tried-and-true trick a go?

So you inhale deeply, then exhale steadily through your mouth, closing your eyes as you try to slow your breathing and picture a meadow with a little picket fence, where fluffy white sheeps are bound to hop over one by one in succession.

One sheep.

You try to let it become your lullaby, hypnotizing you to drift into a dreamless slumber.

Two sheep.

Three sheep....

Four sheep...

For a moment, you think it's working or...or maybe you're trying to fool yourself into thinking it's working and you just look silly. Actually, were you supposed to say ‘little’ before each sheep or...?

You exhale loudly, eyes coming open again. “It didn't work...”

Even Jimin lets out a quiet groan of his own, head thumping back against your wall. You feel him shift again and hear the light smack of his hands coming down on his thighs as he pushes himself off your bed. “Well, that's all I got.”

“W-Wait, I swear you have a spell for this.” You say, propping yourself up on your elbows. “The sleeping one you always do.”

You faintly see him halt in his steps, turning back to you with a hand on his hip. “Yeah, but it's magic induced sleep – it puts you in a deeper slumber than natural sleep and as a human, you're susceptible to becoming dependent on it.”

“Okay... Yeah, I get it, but....I'm asking you this time – just this once. I feel like I'm going to lose my mind at this rate.” You half plead. He goes quiet and you think he'll humour you by giving it some thought before outright turning you down. “I swear this will be the only time, you can even use enough to just make me sleepy....?”

Still, he remains quiet and you think that's your answer enough. So you begin to sink back into your bed, preparing to count sheep into oblivion when you hear him release a sigh, bringing a hand up to run it through his hair. Then, he turns back to you and you can only stare up in question.

“You owe me.” He murmurs under his breath. You blink, mind floundering for an appropriate response but it seems that Jimin didn’t plan on leaving any room for argument as he carries on to say, “Lie back.”

You involuntarily swallow but obey regardless, lying back fully and getting comfortable. In all honesty, you understand where he's coming from, having already experienced the magic induced sleep spell a total of two times but....you really need this, even the groggy after effects can't stop you.

Jimin stoops to take his seat on the empty space beside you again, only this time, he positions himself in a way he can hover over you. The faint glow of his eyes is the only thing that helps you get an idea of just how close he is to you, along with the soft caress of his breath against your lashes and rapidly warming cheeks. You wait with baited breath, nibbling your lower lip out of nerves. It makes him let out a breathy chortle.

“Relax, you're making me nervous.”

You snort unattractively, eyes darting off to the side as you mumble under your breath. “You shouldn't be talking....”

Jimin doesn't say anything in reply, though you know he's probably smiling to himself and it's only when you feel a gentle hand cupping your cheek does your gaze snap back to his, body freezing up instinctively. He patiently waits until you're used to his touch and though it takes while, you eventually feel yourself loosening up, as if his gaze has you spellbound. Jimin senses the way you once tense body relaxes and he takes it as a cue to prepare the spell, eyes glowing a little more vividly as he whispers the magic words.

“Now, sleep.”

The last thing you feel is the feather light touch of Jimin's thumb caressing your cheek as you gladly let the familiar hazy cloud swallow you finally into your much desired dreamless sleep.

[sleepless-in-starbucks]

Suspend Your Disbelief

Note: Does this make sense? Unlikely. I wrote it instead of doing prep work for my finals. But I’m still posting it. Summary: Logan just wanted to eat lunch, not have some crazy hotshot sit down and start pushing the magic agenda on him. Good thing he was never going to see him ever again. Right? Warning: Non-consensual kissing (they both end up fine with it but it does happen), a few swear words

   Logan hated him. Utterly despised the smug bastard that was Roman whatever-his-last-name-was. Logan didn’t catch it and he currently didn’t care.

   “You have absolutely no proof of anything you’re saying.” Logan said angrily, gesturing around him. “I, on the other hand, have a plethora!”    “You only think you do.” The cocky arse replied with what Logan refused to describe as a winning smile. “But I can explain everything with one word.”

   “Don’t you dare.”

   “Magic.” Roman said with jazz hands, as if he were offering a movie option and not attempting to drive Logan mad.

   “Gravity?”    “Magic.”    “Plant growth?”

   “I’mma have to say magic.”

   “Rainbows?”    “Gay magic.”

   “Atoms!?”

   “You won’t believe me… but… magic.”

   Logan slid his seat back to faceplant in the table. Three science degrees, for this? To fight with some hotshot who recognized his face from his lectures and decided to ruin his lunch with this nonsense?

   “If you’re going to tell me you honestly, seriously believe this, this, insanity then why, pray tell, did you come over to talk to me?” Logan tilted his head to glare at Roman. “I’m a scientist. I actually use my brain.”

   “Not properly, clearly.” Roman replied, infuriatingly. Logan couldn’t even tell if he was joking or not.

   “I-”    “Oh, sorry Microsoft Nerd, but my ride’s here.” Roman interrupted, picking up his phone as it dinged. He patted Logan’s elbow with a smile. “Think about what I’ve said, would you?”

   “You’ve spoken only gibberish about magic.”

   “Only gibberish to some.” Roman replied while he got up, pulling a twenty out of his wallet and throwing it on the table. “Whatever you’re getting’s on me.” And with that, he twirled away from the table and headed off towards the parking lot.

   Logan resisted the unprofessional urge to growl as the near stranger wandered off. Sitting up in his seat, he crumpled the twenty in his hand. He hadn’t ordered anything yet, and after that conversation, he decided he’d prefer to eat at home. At least there was someone rational there.

   As he pulled out his own wallet to put the money in, he stopped when he found a white note coupled with the cash. He squinted at the excessively swirly writing.

   If you ever care to free yourself from the lies of big science, give me a call; xxx-xxxx

Prince of Magic, Gay, and Truth- Roman

   Logan frowned at the note as if it was Roman’s face and he was still blabbering about the world all being run by magic and nothing else. He was sorely tempted to rip it to shreds and let it blow away in the breeze.

   “Sir, are you ready to order?”

   Logan stuffed the twenty and the note into his wallet instantly, looking up to answer the waitress, “I’m just going, thanks.”

   Slipping his wallet back into his pocket, he headed in the opposite direction of the parking lot, trying not to think about the stupid note from the stupid man in his pocket.

   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

   “And you know what he said?”

   “Lemme guess.” Virgil deadpanned from where he was lounging on his bed, swiping through his phone. “Magic?”

   “Magic!” Logan rubbed his forehead. “Honestly, Virgil, he was the most infuriating person I’ve ever met! You two would get along splendidly, I’m sure.”

   “I’m insulted, Logan. I’m supposed to be the most infuriating person you’ve ever met.”

   “He’s an extremely strong contender.” Logan huffed. “Besides, you’re annoying simply because you’re annoying.”

   “Aw, thanks, Lo. I didn’t realize I meant that much to you.” Virgil cooed.

   “Just like that.” Logan said. “But Roman? He’s just wrong. Or pulling my leg. Or perhaps both. And he’s so cocky about it, like he knows everything, smiling the entire time, stupid winning smile and bright teeth he doesn’t deserve to have-”

   “Lo, have you considered you have a crush?”

   Logan jerked out of his position of existential crisis on the floor to face Virgil. “Are you mad?!”

   Virgil rolled his eyes. “God, Logan, you gay disaster, when’s the last time you had a crush that you can’t recognize one?”

   “I’ve not had a crush since first grade.” Logan responded. “And even then, really, he was just very good at drawing scales. Even with crayon, really, it was masterful-”    “I thought CIL-D (Classmate of Interest Letter- D) was just a good artist?” Virgil said with a shit-eating grin.

   Logan glared at him. “Shut up.”

   Virgil looked like he would not be shutting up about this for the foreseeable future. “Sure. That aside, I hate to break it to you, Logan, but you’re totally head-over-heels for this ‘prince.’”

   “I despise him with every fiber of my being.” Logan responded.

   “And yet, you still have his number.” Logan scowled at the white scrap Virgil was toying with in his hands. Showing him that was a mistake, apparently. “And despite the fact that he is, allegedly, an absolute fool, you won’t stop talking about him. Or thinking about what he said, even though it’s bullshit. And you just spent like a solid minute describing his smile.”

   “It’s a stupid smile.”

   “You called it winning and his teeth bright.” Virgil responded, flopping over on the bed to look at Logan while he taunted him. “You’re gay for him, Lo.”

   “Even if you’re right- and I am admitting on zero levels that you are- what does it matter?” Logan asked. “He just wanted to taunt me with his silly ideas. I highly doubt he’s interested.”

   “I’d say he’s super interested.”

   Logan leaned back on the nearest wall, which wasn’t very near, leaving him with just his head propped up as he met Virgil’s eyes and said, “Really? Virge, buddy, I know it’s hard living with a genius when all you do is dance-”

   “Now is not the time to mock my job and you’re just trying to avoid the real topic at hand.”

   “-but this is just getting to be a bit too far of a reach, don’t you think?” Logan finished, ignoring the interruption.

   Virgil rolled his eyes. “Logan, you’re one of the top scientists in the country, and yet, you refuse to talk to practically anyone.”

   “I speak with those who can stimulate my intellect.” Logan responded. “And you.”

   “Ha ha. Logan, those who stimulate your intellect are down to about five other scientists and people who ask super weird questions to frustrate you.” Virgil waved the phone number. “This Roman guy probably thought you looked cute and knew the only way to catch your interest was to be so incredibly stupid you couldn’t let the matter drop.”

   “I disagree entirely.” Logan replied, offended. “I don’t continue interactions with crazy fools for the sake that they’re incredibly foolish.”

   Virgil raised an eyebrow. “The concept of the sun is just a lie that the government uses to convince us that the ‘sun’ warms us, and not the radiation they leak into the atmosphere.”    “...There are so many things wrong with that, just to start with ancient peoples beliefs and sun gods before the government could exist to do anything about it,”

   Logan went on for a good three minutes before he recognized the grin on Virgil’s face. “I’ve been played.” He said immediately, cutting off a rant about how does one even fake the sun.

   “Yep.”

   “I hate you.”

   “Sureeee.” Virgil replied, swinging his feet off the bed and dropping the number on Logan’s lap. “Listen, Rem and me’s dance number starts in fifteen, so I’ve gotta go, but you should call the cute idiot while I’m gone.” Virgil winked as he reached the doorway. “Who knows. Maybe I’ll be the right one for once.”

   And with that comment, Virgil was out of the apartment. Logan frowned, turning back to look at the paper.

   He did not have a crush. Roman was infuriating. He didn’t have a nice smile, he didn’t look cute when he mocked Logan, he didn’t walk with a perfectly exaggerated swagger, and he wasn’t at all deserving of the princely title he had given himself.

   But it was Logan’s duty to at least and try to crush ignorance. And if Roman was going to be the most ignorant fool of them all, than Logan was practically legally responsible to properly correct him.

   With a deep sigh, he picked up his phone.

   ~~~~~~~~~

   Logan kicked another pebble. He was slightly (read: extremely) early for his meetup with Roman. Only because it worked better for him to take the earlier bus. Not because he was nervous. As he had pointedly told Roman multiple times via text, this was an informational conference to discuss his awfully flawed view of science and the natural world.

   Roman had eloquently responded with, “So, a nerd date?”

   Logan told him to come to the park if he cared or not before promptly turning off his phone. He felt foolish immediately afterwards, and turned it back on to check Roman had confirmed he’d be coming.

   Not that Logan cared if he came or not. He just didn’t have that much time in his life to waste.

   Logan realized he had been glaring at the poor kicked pebble for a few minutes at the same time he realized a car was entering the parking lot. It was a bright blue minivan. Logan wasn’t one hundred percent it was Roman’s style, per say (not that he cared what Roman’s style was), but when the idiot himself bounded out of the passenger side, he was forced to accept this was his ride.

   Out of the driver’s side came an equally energetic person wearing an oversized sweater and a ridiculously large smile.

   “See, Pat, I told you he’d beat us here.” Roman said while looking at Logan. Logan rolled his eyes.

   “I like to be punctual.”

   “If you say so.” Roman said, same stupidly egotistical etched on his face. “See you in a bit, Patton!”

   Patton waved at both of them. “Okay, Ro! Have fun on your date!”

   “It’s not a date!” Logan protested immediately.

   Patton giggled. “My mistake. Bye you two!”

   Logan turned his glare upon Roman while Patton drove off. “A date? Really? I thought we went over this.”

   Roman shrugged. “Patton gets the most absurd ideas in his head.”

   “Why do I have a sneaking suspicion you’re the reason he had that idea in his head?”

   “No clue, I’m sure.” Roman replied. “Now, shall we stroll gayily through the park and discuss matters of magic and fake science?”

   “Gayily?”

   “You know, happily?” Roman said, arching an eyebrow smugly. “What? Haven’t heard the definition?”

   “You’re a twat.”

   “So I’ve been told.” Roman started heading into the park. “Onwards!”

   Logan huffed before hurrying to catch up with him. As they walked past the flower beds that were planted at the park’s entrance, Logan took in disdainfully the casual dress Roman was wearing. Not that there was anything wrong with dresses, but the light pink-and-white colours with golden crown designs splattered across it were about as professional as a picnic.

   Roman apparently caught him staring, smirking at Logan as he said, “See something you like?”

   Logan immediately fixed his gaze forward, replying, “You’re dressed quite casually.”

   “It’s a walk in the park, literally.” Roman replied. “Unlike someone here, I don’t enjoy taking those in pressed slacks and ties.”

   “I had a meeting before this.” Logan lied. He didn’t have a meeting beforehand, he just refused to in any way, shape, or form play into Roman or Virgil’s fantasy that this was a date. “We don’t all have time on our hands.”

   “I’m insulted.” Roman said with an exaggerated gasp. “Us actors as very busy.”    “You’re an actor?” Logan said before mumbling to himself, “That explains a lot.”

   Roman caught the whisper. “Does it?”

   “I see now your imagination has run away from you, as I’m sure it’s prone to do living in the land of make-believe, and has given you the foolish idea that magic rules the world.” Logan explained.

   Roman rolled his eyes as he moved off the path to stand on the small observation deck sticking out of the park land and over the little lake that bordered it. “You know, I’m not the only one with these ideas.”

   “The world is sadly filled with a lot of weirdos.” Logan said, not minding the stop on the deck. It was slightly humid and he was starting to regret the slacks, anyways.

   “Well not everyone who believes it is a weirdo.” Roman responded. “Ever heard of Dr. Emile Picani?”

   Logan waved a hand. “Pretty top notch psychologist, yeah. Don’t tell me you think he believes this nonsense.”

   “No, I don’t think so. I do know so, however.” Roman grinned as if he had won the whole argument. “Talked to him a few days ago.”

   “Listen, I respect Emile. The fact that he’s so heavily incorporated Disney into everything he does is great. But it only stands that if he’s willing to be so deeply invested in such silly tales, then he might be swayed to believe in a world of magic.”

   “Silly tales? I’m sorry, are you insulting Disney?”

   Logan raised an eyebrow. “What? Irked they’ve yet to pick you up for roll of Evil Stepmother, Princess?”

   “An insult and a complimentary nickname?” Roman winked. “Careful, Teach, I might start thinking you’re flirting.”

   “That wouldn’t be very professional.”

   “That was a weak excuse.”

   “It’s not an excuse.” Logan corrected. “It’s the reason why I cannot currently be flirting with you. That’s not even getting into the fact you’re a self-centered, egotistical, half-brained fool who thinks he can prove any stupid idea with a nice smile and confident attitude-”

   Virgil had always said Logan ranted enough the only way anyone would ever be able to shut him up was by kissing him, teasing that would be his first kiss. Logan would roll his eyes and point out that no one these days had that type of confidence or desire to kiss a talkative nerd. Besides, slapping people was much more fun.

   Apparently, Roman whatever-his-last-name-was was part of the small percentage of people who had that confidence and possibly the only person who wanted to kiss a talkative nerd.

   Logan had just barely became aware of the fact that lips were pressed to his when Roman pulled back, lacking, for the first time around Logan, confidence.

   “I shouldn’t have done that.” Roman all but stuttered, blushing as he apologized. “God, I’m such a-”

   Logan wasn’t completely processing everything at this point but he had figured out not kissing Roman had left him feeling very put out and, hey, turnabout’s fair play, right? Roman seemed just as surprised as Logan was but neither of them pulled away before they needed to take a breath.

   Logan had instantly turned crimson before he turned to face the lake. Roman was the first to speak, with a light chuckle, saying, “Not flirting with me, eh?”

   “You kissed me first.” Logan responded, still not facing him.

   A beat of silence before, “Want to do it again?”

   Logan faced him once more, the front of his dress crumpled from where Logan only realized now he must have pulled him down to kiss him back (it wasn’t fair, really, Roman being a head taller than him) and that smug smirk back on his face.

   “You really are insufferable.”

   “You realize I did make up the whole ‘everything is just magic’ thing, right?”

   Logan pulled Roman down by his dress again, stopping right before the third inevitable kiss to ask,

   “Then what do you call this?”

   Roman’s mouth was immediately too preoccupied to answer this question, but to Logan, this time magic might have been the only realistic answer.

[slytherin-puffskein]

67: When One Stops The Kiss To Whisper “I’m Sorry, Are You Sure You-” And They Answer By Kissing Them More

@cervo-live-in-arts Here it is ! I decided to create an AU for this prompt, in which blood supremacy is... really popular with Purebloods. All characters also live in a small village.

* * *

When it was heard that a pureblood family was hosting a masked Ball, Lau just knew he had to get involved somehow. After all, pureblooded people didn’t mix with muggleborn wizards. If Lau manages to sneak inside without anyone knowing they are hanging with a disgusting mudblood, he might as well die right afterwards, because nothing else in life could be possibly greater. As soon as he saw the declaration on the city’s announcement board, he immediately snatched the poster and ran to Tulip Karasu’s place, his dearest friend.

They came up with a plan fairly easily and quickly. A few illusion charms, and no one shall ever know Lau is possibly a muggleborn... and he’ll get to have the time of his life. Tulip decided to join in, mostly because parties meant free snacks... and opportunities to find new targets for her pranks. They spent the following week practising spells and making their outfits, and as the day of the Ball came, they were both ready for it. Tulip took out her wand, and showed Lau a nice mask that represented a fox, with long red ears and deep black eyes. She gently tapped her wand against the mask, and it seemed to change... not physically, but... another level that Lau couldn’t really describe.

Magic. How do you describe it anyway ? Tulip handed him the mask, a smile on her lips.

“It’s a masked Ball, after all. With this mask I just enchanted, no one will recognize you, may it be because of your voice or your general attitude. Aren’t I a genius ? My parents underestimate me, truly”

Lau couldn’t help but smile, and he admired the mask. Where did Tulip get it anyway ? It was a perfect match for the outfit he was wearing. A nice black cloak with a black suit, and an orange tie to break all of this darkness. Tulip, on the other hand, leaned more towards colours, as she was wearing a stunningly beautiful blue dress that could easily be compared with a night sky. Her mask was equally gorgeous: all black, covered in small shiny stones and with a nice feather on the side to top it off.

“You really went all out with this outfit, huh ?” he suddenly says.

“Of course. I need to look as pompous as a Pureblood. Come on now, let’s go the Ball”

She grabbed the old poster, reading the address and putting her mask on with her free hand. Lau decided to do the same.

“The Lee Mansion. God, I bet they will have House Elves”

That left a bad taste in Lau’s mouth. House Elves... Purebloods had the tendency to treat them horribly.

* * *

There were, indeed, House Elves scurrying around the Mansion, making sure that everything was in order as guests were chatting, dancing and eating snacks from the large buffet. At the sight of all this food, Lau’s stomach involuntary growled. He wasn’t the richest guy around, and sometimes he had huge struggles with making ends meet. And now that winter was approaching, he was getting more and more worried.

He almost considered stealing food from this party, but people would definitely notice him. He had an enchanted mask, not enchanted hands. Maybe he can try magical gloves next time... huh, he’ll mention it to Tulip later. His friend was currently by herself, sipping on some alcohol... but Lau never truly liked that sort of drink. With a rather specific objective in mind, he slipped out of the main hall, and sneaked past a door to find himself into a large hallway, with the walls covered with large painted portraits. Under each, a named was carved in what seemed like pure gold. Yolanda Lee, Anastasia Lee, Rodolf Lee... they all looked absurdly strict, and boringly dull. He finally stopped at the final portrait, showing a young boy around his age. This guy wasn’t strict or dull, that Lau perfectly knew.

Barnaby Lee.

His heart fluttered for a moment... and he dared to remove his mask. Soon enough, footsteps echoed through the hallway, and Barnaby finally joined Laurent, a smile on his lips. His mask is reminiscent of a snake, but he quickly removed it to show himself to his crush.

“I thought you wouldn’t have been able to make it... I had to beg my parents to throw this Ball. They feel like being alone lately, but I managed to convince them !”

And he shot Lau a huge, bright smile, that instantly made the redhead melt.

“It took me a lot of work” Lau said, “Enchanted masks, making sure to not rise suspicions... but it’s all worth it in the end, because I get to see you”

To see Barnaby Lee, his forbidden friend. Once again, pureblood and muggleborn don’t usually mix... but Lau and Barnaby deliberately ignored that unwritten rule to hang out. He felt bad for having lied to Tulip... but he feared that she would have judged him for trying to get to a fancy party only to see a friend he wasn’t even supposed to have in the first place.

From where they are, they can both hear music from the main hall... and quickly enough, a low, waltz music starts playing. A smile forms itself on Barnaby’s lips as he offers his hand to his friend.

“May I have this dance ?”

Lau can’t help but giggle, and grabs Barnaby’s hand.

“You may, good sir”

And Barnaby wrapped his arm around Lau’s waist, still holding his hand with the other, and both of their hearts skipped a beat as they noticed how much closer they were now. Lau could see every single of his friend’s features: from the most visible like his cheekbones to the most subtle ones, like his dark eyelashes.

Handsome. This single word immediately comes to Lau’s mind, surfacing as if it had been resting deep under water for a while... and a blush immediately shows up on Lau’s face as they start dancing. It’s smooth, it’s slow, it’s... natural. As if Barnaby and Lau were made to be dancing with each other. Although they are both usually pretty clumsy, no one steps on the other’s foot or accidentally trips. Everything seems go along smoothly, and in the end they’re staring at each other, their lips sightly parted.

Barnaby’s eyes seem to sparkle.

Lau’s too.

He can still remember when they both met, in the public market. He had been so nice to him... without thinking much, right here in this deserted hallway, Laurent pressed his lips against Barnaby’s... and they both press their bodies together as Barnaby kisses back without a second thought. He can taste the chocolate cupcakes he knew his grandmother would bring, and he giggled.

“Decided to visit the buffet ?” he whispered against his lips.

“You know me, Barnaby Lee”

He slid his fingers into his hair, and they both sunk themselves into that kiss... until Barnaby pulled away, looking suddenly worried. The soft music was still playing, but Lau could barely hear it as he kept focus on Barnaby.

“A-Are you... sure about this, Lau ? I-I mean, our statuses are different, a-and, you know the saying. Purebloods and Muggleborns don’t m-mix... what if you get in trouble ? I-I couldn’t possibly live with myself if something happened to you”

But as a simple answer, Lau kissed him again. And again, and again. They kissed for what seemed like an eternity, and Lau never wanted it to end... he did force himself to pull away, though, but only briefly. Their lips could still brush against each other.

“I don’t care, Barnaby Lee. I don’t care about any of this... the only thing that matters is us”

He gently cupped his face, and kissed him again. Barnaby was quick to kiss back... and they spent the rest of the Ball in Barnaby’s room, away from prying glances, only talking and cuddling with each other, hoping for a good future.

[elcorhamletlive]

fandom: MCU (Post-Avengers) ship: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark tags: Fluff and Smut/Handjob/Laughing during sex

It’s very simple.

Tony may not be the tactical mastermind of their team, but, hell, he is a genius, so he knows some strategical thinking, thank you very much. And contrary to popular opinion, Tony knows what he wants, and, mostly – at least on an intellectual level – he has at least an idea on how to get it.

Tony wanted Steve Rogers from the first time he saw him.

Well, technically, not really, he supposes – the first time he saw Steve Rogers, he had been maybe five years old, and he had no idea what the concept of wanting someone even was. He saw Captain America, thought he was awesome, and wanted to be his friend. Then, as he grew older, he hated Captain America, thought he was the worst thing that ever happened to his life, and wanted to beg his father to stop searching for him.

Then, as an adult, he laid his eyes on Steve Rogers on a S.H.I.E.L.D. helicarrier and wanted him.

It would have been easy to blame it all on some weird Freudian-esque way to get back at his father, but Tony knows that’d be bullshit. He was always aware that Captain America was hot – who wasn’t – but, personally, the clichéd, Ken-doll look didn’t appeal much to him. It just wasn’t his thing.

So it was kind of a surprise when, while Tony’s brain was deciding that he hated Steve Rogers’ guts, Little Tony was happily informing him how much he liked Steve Rogers’ everything, from his pink lips to his steel gaze to the way his hands rested on his belt.

So while Tony’s mind was going, “fuck this guy”, Tony’s dick was going, “fuck this guy”, and, well. It was a lost battle from the start.

Which leads him to where he is now, opening the door to his bedroom, pushing Steve inside without stopping kissing him for a second. Tony wishes he cared a little more about how this is going to affect the team and their fragile tentative truce-turned-pseudo-friendship, but right now, feeling Steve’s hot, soft mouth against his, he doesn’t give a single fuck.

Like he said: Very, very simple.

“We should-“ Steve starts saying, but Tony shuts him up with his mouth. He guesses he should let Steve speak, probably, but it’s hard when Steve’s lips are already swollen and flushed, begging to be tasted.

Steve is a fucking good kisser, too, which is just unfair, when you consider how little experience he must have had until now. Granted, he’s not a technique master, but he’s so damn enthusiastic, laying strong hands on the back of Tony’s neck as he ducks his head to explore his mouth fully. His warm tongue traces the seam of Tony’s lips as if he’s memorizing it, and that really shouldn’t be enough to get Tony as eager and wanting as he is now, but it is. Tony retaliates by pushing him against the wall, kisses growing hungrier as he makes good on his promise to bruise those ridiculously shapely lips.

Tony drags his mouth over Steve’s jaw now, enjoying the feel and taste of that silky skin. His hands are at Steve’s sides, holding him firmly. Of course, Steve could push him off easily if he wanted to - and isn’t that a huge turn on, when you think about it. He doesn’t, though, and Tony can feel Steve’s erection against him, and he’s about to drop to his knees to find out what freedom tastes like when Steve whispers again, a little more urgent, “Tony.”

Tony backs away a little. Steve’s face is all flushed. His hair is messy, floppy bangs falling over his forehead and reaching his eyes. He’s so goddamn pretty, it’s not even fair. Someone should have intervened, at Eskrine’s office, all those years ago: Sorry, sir, you’re way too beautiful to take part on this experiment. Your face combined with superserum-enhanced muscles would go above and beyond what the human brain can handle. In the name of the sanity of geniuses who will be born a couple decades from now, we have to turn down your request.

Steve brushes his hair off his forehead. That floppy hair of his is the most ridiculous thing Tony’s ever seen. It’d be great to pull it, to angle Steve’s head and fuck his mouth. Steve would suck the way he kisses, clumsy but so eager, those soft lips wrapped around Tony’s-

“We should, hm. We should get to bed,” Steve says, and something in his voice rings alarm bells in Tony’s head.

“What?” he asks, still panting, brushing past his overwhelming arousal to take in Steve’s body language. Steve’s posture seems unusually stiff, and though he glances at the bed, it doesn’t seem like he’s actually looking at it, and more that he’s using it as an excuse to not look at Tony.

“I mean,” Steve says, turning back to Tony sharply. “It seems more comfortable?” He makes it sound more like a question than a suggestion, and after a second of silence, he turns towards Tony, hands at his waist. “But if you prefer here, that’s – that’s also fine.”

Tony, honestly, has no strong preference. He definitely wouldn’t say no to the idea of turning Steve on his back and fucking him against the wall, or being fucked by him, or any other possible combination involving his dick and Steve’s dick and one or possibly both of their assholes. But he doesn’t mind going to bed either, and he guesses that’s what Steve might want, from his sudden awkwardness.

“It is more comfortable,” Tony says, running his hands over Steve’s arms. He nods towards the bed, watching as Steve blinks at him with those baby blues, and, in a moment of awkward impulsiveness, holds Steve’s hand, intending on pulling him gently and loosen it immediately afterwards.

To his surprise, though, Steve’s hand clutches his, and the alarm bells on Tony’s head are now too loud for him to ignore.

“Everything okay, Cap?” he asks, trying to keep his voice as casual as possible.

“Yes,” Steve replies, quickly – too quickly. He sits on the bed and pulls Tony closer, hand finding the back of his head, pulling him down. “Come on,” he says, bringing their mouths together. And man, is that a good distraction, that scorching hot mouth against Tony’s and those strong hands pulling him towards the bed – but not enough to make Tony forget that rigidness on Steve’s shoulders and that nervous look on his face.

Tony breaks apart the kiss – which, fine, takes a little longer than it should, but honestly, stopping kissing Steve Rogers to do the right thing should be a character test. It should earn him a prize or something.

He keeps his hands on Steve’s shoulders – he wants to keep them in a neutral position, but honestly, no part of Steve’s body is neutral to touch, he finds. He swallows. “You want this, Cap?”

Steve’s eyes widen and his mouth opens, again, entirely too fast. “I do,” he says, as if he’s defending himself from an accusation, and this is so not how Tony wants this go. “I just-“

“Hey, hey,” Tony says, raising both his hands. His body protests the whole not touching Steve thing, but it’s easier to think that way. “It’s not a problem, ok? I mean, if you want, that’s fine – more than fine, honestly, but, anyway, point is: nobody signed a contract in blood here, right? I’m not gonna fill a report to Fury if you change your mind.”

To his surprise, Steve’s mouth curls in a shade of a smile. Something in Tony’s brain notes that as important data, for some reason (he’s given up trying to understand how his thought process works years ago), like a lightbulb goes off in his head.

“Not changing my mind,” Steve says. His smile grows a little self-depreciating, and he rubs the back of his neck. “Just… Not very used to this, I guess.“

That’s a half-truth if Tony ever heard one. “Have you ever done this before?” he asks, trying to keep his voice clear of any judgement and possible arousal that the thought of a virgin Captain America in his bed gives him.

Steve’s jaw clenches. “Yes.”

“With a man?”

It’s almost funny, because Tony can tell every single part of Steve wants to lie to him, but, apparently, he can’t find it in himself to do so. “No,” he admits, bashful.

Tony’s dick throbs enthusiastically at Steve’s honesty, and Tony’s brain sends a message for him to calm the fuck down as the actual implications of what is happening dawn on him. Steve just stares at him with those unbelievably blue eyes, and maybe he doesn’t – ok, scratch that, he definitely doesn’t want to look vulnerable, but that’s how he looks now, young and nervous, very unlike the stoic leader Tony has been getting used to work with, the past few months.

“Okay,” Tony says. He wants to ask again if Steve wants this – if he’s sure that he wants his first time with a man to be with Tony, precisely, when Tony’s pretty sure Steve would have to beat guys off him with a stick at any gay bar in the world. But Tony’s had some experience trying to talk Steve out of things by now and – well. He’s had better luck coming up with new elements, to put it bluntly.

So, basically, if Steve wants to do this, he’s gonna do it, and he’s gonna do it even if it means gritting his teeth and powering through perfectly normal feelings of nervousness or awkwardness. Which is… really not the attitude that Tony looks for in people he takes to his bed. Like, ever.

“Let’s take this slow then, all right?” Tony says, and he doesn’t wait for Steve to answer, sitting down next to him on the bed and taking his jaw on his hand.

He presses a soft kiss to the corner of Steve’s mouth, taking in his sharp inhale of breath, his flushed face, his dilated pupils. Steve’s body is into this, for sure, but Tony needs him to be all here, all for what’s happening. There are lines of tension all over his jaw and neck, and he actually shakes a little when Tony moves closer.

This is supposed to be fun, you know, Tony wants to say, but he has a feeling trying to address this directly is just gonna make Steve shut himself off more.

Then again, Tony is a genius, so he might have a better idea. Maybe.

He presses a kiss to Steve’s jaw, descending his way to his neck. Steve’s skin smells like soap, subtle and sweet, and though a part of Tony wants nothing more than to leave a collar of bites and marks all over his neck, he knows that’s not the goal right now, so he just nuzzles Steve’s neck a little, rubbing his goatee on his skin.

Steve squirms a little, huffing out a surprised laugh.

“Hmm, ticklish, are we?” Tony says, pleased, going back to the task of giving Captain America a nice amount of beard burn.

“Knock it off,” Steve says, but he’s laughing, apparently despise himself. His posture loosens a little, too, which, hey, point for Tony. He raises his head and runs his hands over Steve’s shoulders, still too tense for his liking.

He pulls Steve into a kiss. That’s far from a hardship – Steve’s mouth feels wonderful against his, soft and warm. Steve is eager, ready to part his lips, to let his tongue find Tony’s, and it takes Tony a moment to coax the kiss and set a lighter, exploring pace. He takes the time to trace Steve’s lips with his tongue, suck his bottom lip lightly, listen to the delicious humming noise Steve makes into the kiss.

“Slow down, Cap,” Tony says, when Steve grows more frantic again, pushing Tony to lay on the bed. It’s a bit hard to keep himself from just pressing Steve into the mattress and devouring his mouth, but Tony keeps it cool, pulling away, pressing deep, slower kisses onto his lips instead. “This isn’t a mission, nobody dies if you don’t disarm the bomb on time – okay, terrible metaphor, but you get my gist,” He babbles. Steve lets out a weak chuckle, but there’s a glimpse of nervousness on his face.

“I know what I’m doing, Tony,” he says, but there’s a note of unmistakable doubt on his voice, that Tony makes sure to shut down really fast.

“Oh, you definitely, definitely do,” Tony mumbles against his mouth, before capturing it again in a deep kiss to illustrate his point. “You are way too good at this, it’s not even fair,” he whispers when they pull apart, enjoying the flush that spreads over Steve’s cheeks at the praise. He nips at his lower lip before continuing: “Can’t blame me for wanting to take my time.”

Steve doesn’t seem fully convinced, but Tony pulls him closer, runs his hands over his sides and kisses him again. They spend a while doing just that, kissing and curling around each other on the bed. It’s delicious, and Tony can feel Steve’s body relaxing a little against his, can feel his touches growing more daring, grip growing stronger on Tony’s waist, lifting his shirt, hands travelling over Tony’s lower back.

When Tony pulls away to take a breath, Steve’s eyes are wonderfully darkened. He is panting, that silly floppy hair falling over his forehead, and Tony brushes it back with his fingers, without thinking.

“Didn’t peg you as someone who liked to take things slow,” Steve says. His voice is a little weird, like he’s trying too hard to sound dry, but it comes off too honest for it work. Suddenly, Tony wonders if he has thought of this before – if he has spent much time wondering how Tony likes to take things in bed, wondering about what Tony would like.

“Well, I am,” Tony whispers against Steve’s cheek. It’s a blatant lie, really – Tony enjoys a healthy amount of foreplay, but the last time he spent this much time laying in bed fully clothed just kissing someone was…

Huh. He doesn’t think it ever happened before.

This line of thought makes strange things happen at Tony’s chest. He decides to scrap it.

“I sense you’re getting a little impatient, though, Cap,” Tony says, rolling his hips forward and pressing himself against Steve’s blatant erection, earning himself a groan that makes his own dick twitch on his pants. He kisses Steve’s ear, sucking on his earlobe, and Steve’s hands fly to his ass, pressing him closer. “Gotta say, you’re definitely the most energetic ninety-year old I’ve ever taken to bed.”

Steve’s laugh is loud this time. Tony watches the way his eyes crinkle, mentally categorizes the way his body shakes with laughter. Steve laughs like he’s forgotten how to do it, like it surprises him he still can.

It’s a good laugh, Tony thinks. A bit rusty, but still. It’s pretty great.

He opens the first few buttons of Steve’s shirt, letting it fall open on his sides, taking the moment to rub his face on his skin again. Steve’s chuckling, and Tony runs his hands under the fabric, skimming those pecs, alternating between kisses and just plain ticklish beard burn.

“Tony-“ Steve huffs, voice a hilarious mix of breathless and exasperated, cutting himself off with a gasp when Tony’s hand finds one of his nipples, brushing his fingers over it, teasing it.

“Now, come on, Cap, I know you didn’t expect me to be all serious in bed,” Tony whispers, mouth trailing over Steve’s collarbone – Steve’s flush goes all the way down, spreading over his chest in a gorgeous pink hue, delicate color over all that firm muscle, how is he even real. “I’m feeling super magnanimous today, so I’m not even going to say there’s only one way to shut me up,” Tony keeps going, paying attention to the way Steve’s body melts at his touches. He wonders if Steve’s ever been this relaxed before, and the thought makes him want to keep talking: “You can think about that next time you want to yell at me in a meeting.”

Steve’s hands grip his ass firmly, pushing Tony closer, pressing his body against his. “I have,” he whispers, dazedly, and he has no right to make two simple words sound so damn hot.

“You mean you don’t only have wet dreams about the Constitution? The History books lied to me,” Tony says, hand trailing over Steve’s stomach, stopping right above his belt. Steve’s laugh is rough and breathless, exactly the way Tony wants it. “Now, let’s see how can I best serve my country, hm?” He unbuttons Steve’s pants, lowering the bandh of his underwear. “Oh, wow, land of the brave indeed.”

Steve lets out a surprised laugh, burying his face on Tony’s shoulder. His cock bobs against his stomach, flushed and beautiful. Tony’s mouth waters at the sight, but he thinks sucking him off right now might make Steve come too fast, and while that’s just fine in Tony’s book (might be a little too fine for his ego, to be honest), he doesn’t want Steve to feel self-conscious. He’s never seen Steve laugh that much before, and it’s one hell of a good look on him.

“Oh, say, can you see,” Tony starts humming, trailing his fingers over Steve’s stomach lightly, just barely brushing his cock. Steve actually swears amidst a bunch of giggling, which is the best possible reaction Tony could have imagined. “By the dawn’s early light, what so proudly we-“

Steve pinches him.

“Hey!” Tony complains, but he’s grinning against Steve’s neck now, and he can’t help but press a few sucking kisses there. There’s none of that tension of the beginning, and Tony wonders if he can get away with giving him a hickey. “Excuse me, sir, but it’s my God-given right to express my patriotism whenever I feel like.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Steve says, but his voice is incredibly fond, filled with wonder in a way that makes Tony’s heart perform some funny acrobatics on his chest, which, okay, means they need to get the show going and not focus on that. “You’re so- Fuck,” Steve blurts when Tony takes a hold of his cock, letting out a bunch of incredible little noises as Tony runs his thumb over the tip gently, smearing pre-come over his hand.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tony says in a sing-song voice, though it’s hard to keep himself unaffected. Steve feels heavy and hot on his hand, and as Tony slicks him up, his own cock twitches on his pants. “I’m just a proud citizen, happy to be part of the greatest nation in the wor- Ouch!” he protests, when Steve pinches him on his side, but it’s impossible to not smile when Steve grins at him.

In a way, it’s almost a blessing Steve doesn’t smile like that more often. Keeps the Sun from being outshined and all.

“Will you just…” Steve says, hips jerking forward, trying to thrust into Tony’s hand. Tony grins, and Steve clumsily pulls him up by his shirt, pressing a kiss on his mouth. He’s so fucking sweet, mouth hot and wet against Tony’s, cock throbbing with want in Tony’s hand, needy and demanding.

Tony kisses him back deeply, hand stroking along his length, setting up a pace. He pulls back, nipping at Steve’s bottom lip, then buries his face on the curve of his neck and probably gives him a bunch of hickeys, biting and sucking shamelessly. Tony feels a little like a teenager, dizzy with arousal over a fully clothed hand job, but Steve’s expression is more erotic than a hardcore porno now, with his half-lidded eyes finding Tony’s, red lips parted in an oh as he trusts his hips forward, body jerking at every motion of Tony’s hand.

When Steve comes, his hands sink deeply onto Tony’s shoulders, probably bruising him, and Tony thinks: God, he’s beautiful. It’s a strangely stupid thought that might caused by the lack of blood flow on his brain right now, because Steve is always beautiful, but right now he’s beautiful in an almost dangerous way. Steve’s body sinks onto the mattress as if he’s limbless, and he’s got those stupid bangs falling over his forehead again and a lazy smile on his lips. Right now he’s beautiful in a way that’s scary, laying on Tony’s bed, wrecked and happy. Like he belongs there.

Tony swallows tickly, letting go of his cock, and Steve pulls him closer, kisses him all open-mouthed and sloppy.

Tony kisses him back, because he’s only human. His own dick is painfully hard against his pants, but right now, that can wait.

“Thank you,” Steve breathes against his lips, and Tony needs, needs to give a snarky reply, because there’s absolutely no other way he can handle the look Steve is giving him right now.

“Don’t thank me for performing my civic duty.” His hand reaches forward of its volition, brushing Steve’s hair off his forehead (the bangs are fucking adorable, okay, sue him). “Besides – I’m not nearly done with you yet,” he whispers, but it comes out less suggestive than he means to, more like a promise than anything else.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Steve says, grabbing his waist. He rolls him over (easily, as if Tony weighs nothing, Jesus Christ) and presses a kiss on Tony’s jaw. “Still.“ His blue gaze is incredibly bright against Tony’s. “You’re… I don’t know.” He shakes his head, smile big and full of wonder, and Tony physically has to pull him closer, he just has to. “Just – thank you.”

The part of Tony’s brain that still has survival instincts is going Fuck fuck fuck in the back of his head. The rest of his brain is busy marveling at that smile, and thinking Steve just… Steve should keep doing that. Keep laughing. Keep smiling. Because of Tony. He. He should always do that.

“Anytime, Cap,” Tony says, softly, when Steve starts pressing kisses at his neck and unbuttoning his shirt. It comes out too real, too sincere, his head spinning. “Anytime.”

[bixbobbynet]

181115 | Santa’s Elves [AU]

HB: Every year without fail, Hanbin takes his daughter, Yooae, to the shopping mall downtown a week before Christmas. A key feature to the festivities include sitting on Santa’s lap and making a wish. Yooae always seems to ask for easy gifts to fulfill, so he’s more than happy to do let her develop a list. Besides that, the mall includes something of a classroom art activity for the children. His daughter had always been too young to partake in it, however is eligible this year. Folks around town call it ‘Santa’s Workshop’ as it has allowed the kids to pretend like they’re Santa’s elves, and make a range of fun and colorful crafts. “Can I? Can I really?” Yooae asks excitedly; practically bouncing out of her shoes. “Of course, sweetheart. We can make gingerbread houses, and Christmas tree ornaments, and anything else you want to do.” The black-haired male wonders if he can leave momentarily to buy some last-minute presents. Unfortunately, it’s yet another year where the two of them only have each other, but if he can see his little girl smile then nothing else really matters.

BB: "c'mon, dad - how long does your hair have to take, are you trying to meet someone at a /kids/ workshop?" Haru rolls her eyes as she thunders down the hall, dinosaur backpack swinging behind her with every step as she pulls herself into her boots and jacket. Jiwon, ever so amused at the incredibly sassy nature of the girl - something she's definitely picked it up from her mother, - grabs his car keys and lets her hop into the vehicle before he locks the door with one last look at his perfectly coiffed strands. "Just looking good for you," he answers here with a laugh, reaching over to ruffle the 8-year old's hair as she buckles herself in, and he pulls carefully out of the driveway. The mall is bustling with far too many last-minute shoppers, all sweaty shoulders and squeaky sneakers on tile when the two of them attempt to push through the crowd in the direction of Santa's workshop. "what do you want to do first, Haru-ya? Should we look for something for Donghyuk samchun?"

HB: Having decided to stick around through the introductory section of the children’s workshop, he’s acutely aware of the people that are looking at him. No part of this situation—just a father and his daughter—seem to make sense to them in a place filled with mothers and their children about to do arts and crafts. Yooae fidgets in her seat as her legs sway back and forth. The 7-year-old has always been a bit hyperactive, but Hanbin has never once faulted her for it. If anything, he’s always found endearing; even if she accidentally kicks him sometimes. In the meantime, the mandatory instructions are over and done with, and the families are free to begin on their projects. In their particular group, they’ve forgone the coloring pages in favor of the gingerbread house-making. Yooae immediately begins to instruct him on what to do as her very own personal assistant. His job includes pouring ready-made icing into an applicator, and laying out all the pieces of the house while his little boss picks out the decorations.

BB: the instructor's introduction has already started by the time he hurries in with his daughter, in the back of his mind blaming the incredibly filled parking spots in the lot out front, fighting to thread through lanes of traffic and honking cars in the early winter's breeze. haphazardly he shoves Haru to one of the empty stations at the corner of the room, just next to another little girl who looks to be a around her age - part of him hopes the workshop will take a substantial enough amount of time so that he can do some shopping of his own. "--parents, if you could please take your places, we can begin with setting up the basic structure of the gingerbread house, and softening the icing for Santa's helpers here," the program coordinator drones on as Jiwon peeks over at Haru and watches at where she's already taking everything out of their packaging, arranging the candy by size and colour. "hey slow down, let me help with that," he complains before grasping hold of the icing tube, working gentle fingers down the plastic encasing. chuckling softly, he turns to the parent situated beside him with a grin, ready to make a joke when he notices just how.. attractive his neighbour is.  "heh, looks like they barely need our help now, huh?"

HB: Hanbin fixes his posture as he holds one side of the construction in place on the white, rectangular base. Getting the icing into the bag feels so much more tedious in comparison, and Yooae insists on doing that part anyway. He’s watching his little girl carefully empty out the bowl and start work on connecting each side of the building. It’s here that he hears an unfamiliar voice speak on his right-hand side, so he turns with an automatic smile—partly because he’s already been smiling, and partly because the statement rings true. “And here I thought I had a couple more months to go.” He responds playfully. The brunet looks over at the stranger’s daughter, and is even more pleased to learn how similar their situations are. “She looks pretty clever. I bet she’s pretty smart, isn’t she?” He asks joyously, knowing full well the look of a proud father. “Hold this wall, too, daddy.” His own cuts his train of thought to revert his attention back to the project at hand; doing as requested of him within a moment’s notice. “There’s no crumbles for the road to the house..” She says with a frown. He quickly looks for a substitute among their limited stash of decorations and candy. He soon picks up a couple options with his free hand. “We can crush the lollipop or.. skittles.” Yooae seems to light up at the idea, then grabs the candies straight out of his grasp. “Anything else, sweetheart?” She doesn’t answer very clearly; presumably unsure herself.

BB: the voice that's emitted from the young father isn't quite what he expects, but it's velvety, subtle; he finds himself a little in awe before he snaps out of his reverie and flashes a sheepish grin. "more like a couple years... they really grow up so fast. how old is yours? she's beautiful." Jiwon's soft gaze follows down to where the little girl is fussing with the walls, an earnest comment out of the plethora of badly-behaved kids he's encountered before. She's quiet, but determined - not unlike his own daughter who's more keen on working away than socializing. the two males trail off briefly to tend to - or, supervise - their own projects in various stages of completion; Haru is already trying to stack the roof and handed him a package of sprinkles to rip open when his neighbour speaks, drawing his attention to the warm, twinkling gaze and high cheekbones once again. "she's very sharp. gets it from her mother," he chuckles in mock-exasperation, "Witty, but stubborn." As if proving his point he gestures to the girl, who in turn whips back to frown at him with a pout. "That definitely comes from you," she huffs, then ignoring the pair in favour of concentrating on her house. they work in silence for a little while longer, Haru quietly instructing Jiwon to hold pieces for her as they dried - hence his current squatted position trying to keep the green Christmas tree in place. "-- don't use the lollipop, that's for the door," both parents blink at the girl when she breaks the silence to point at the candies in Yooae's grasp. "here - use my extra cookies," pudgy fingers push a package of crumbled chocolate chip cookies in her direction as Jiwon looks on with a proud grin. "that's very sweet of you, Haru-ya. What do you want to use for yours?"

HB: Delighted to talk about her own, he answers right away. “She’s seven. A month away from eight, in fact.” He softly brushes Yooae’s hair as he speaks. “What about yours?” It’s truly not everyday that he gets to talk to another father, especially with the kind of sigma he’s surrounded by. 

He watches the way Yooae reacts to the act of kindness. Although she voices her thanks the other girl and accepts the cookies right away, she feels conflicted somehow; as if her plans are all stupid and this other girl’s a complete genius. Then, because she’s always been more influenced by Hanbin than his counterpart, Yooae hurries up to finish the basis of the gingerbread house since finishing the task always comes first.

As soon as the house is built, the decoration is done fully by the kid herself. It seems like the best time to leave temporarily to do some last-minute shopping, but then again, he’s not that comfortable leaving his 7-year-old daughter in the middle of a mall—least of all when Yooae hasn’t gotten a phone yet.

Hanbin settles for the idea that they’ll be shopping with one another once all the events are over and done with. In addition to that, he’d somehow been convinced that they would need to have ice cream afterwards. In the meantime, Yooae’s been chatting away one-sidedly at all her decoration choices—and by some means created candy people to represent ‘father and daughter’ living in this semi-edible abode.

BB: Jiwon watches fondly as the little girl stirs under her father's gentle hand, shifting slightly although she doesn't deviate from her concentration. "Wow, she's a big girl, huh?" He snaps out of his reverie with a smile and meets the other male's own, nostalgia laced in his tone. "Almost nine, now... it's been so long I don't know what I'd do without her." In so many years of raising Haru alone, he only found comfort in her companionship and the ups and downs they both went through together -- he feels guilty for how difficult it's been for her growing up without a mother but she knows that he's doing his best. And no one understands him better than she does.

The rest of the room is filled with the various sounds of whining children, the clattering of candies and wrappers, and the faint jingle of Christmas tunes just drowning out the cries of frustrated parents. It might be the happiest time of the year, but kids being off from school always means extra chaos. He's summoned yet again to tear the individual packaging off the colourful gumdrops when Haru starts to build the "bushes", intermittently feeding him the candies that look too squished or came out crumbled. Jiwon's just satisfied watching her triumph over the small project, her cheeks puffed in determination - and the squeal she emits when he distracts her with a wet chocolatey peck to the cheek. "Daddy stop, you're gross," comes the mutter, despite the tight clutch in his sleeve that remains with the fingers of her free hand.

He glances over to the warm sight of the other parent and the lively conversation happening with his daughter, at which he merely chuckles and peeks over in a bout of curiosity. "So have you two gotten all your Christmas shopping done yet?"

HB: Hanbin’s dark locks fell over his eyes as he watched his daughter in such animated actions. “I know what you mean.” Soft-spoken, yet visibly reminiscent of a period long passed. “She’ll always be my little girl, though. No matter what.” He chuckled just to keep it light-hearted and friendly.

Yooae eventually completed her build, however didn’t fail to catch any so-called ‘flaws’ that she had encountered while she gave it a good, thorough inspection. Hanbin could reassure her to hell and heaven, and back again, but it seemed like that just would not stick. “You made such a beautiful gingerbread house, sweetie. I’m so proud of you.” He pulled the little girl closer for a small squeeze before she started whining and pushing off of him in embarrassment.

“Thank you..” She muttered after a short while. 

The two of them made quick work of their hands, and tidied up their station. There was nothing in particular to throw away, though, as Yooae was somewhat efficient in her construction. In the meantime, he heard the other father speak out once more. He couldn’t tell if the man was trying to be polite or was genuinely invested into their broken conversation. Either way, he enjoyed the company of the other. “Oh, i’m afraid not.” He wiped the table in loose motions. “We’ll be going around for some last-minute shopping once we’re done here.” Hanbin pulled his sweater’s sleeve back to reveal his watch. “It’s almost lunch, so maybe that should be taken care of first.” He faced the other once more with a soft smile. “If you have some time, would you care to join us?”

[just-a-sarcastic-simmer]

Thank you all so much for voting on which challenge I should add to my blog! The Disney Princess Challenge ended up winning, though ti was a three way tie for quite some time!

Stay tuned for some posts later today! (More information regarding the exact rules I’ll be following below)

Gen 1 Snow White

-      Must be able to get pregnant

-      Must work from home (writing, painting, collecting, etc.)

-      Must befriend 7 different sims and have 7 pregnancies with them

-      When each child (dwarf) is born, randomly select a negative trait for them. This trait should be unique to that sim and should be given to them at the earliest opportunity.

Negative traits: Gloomy, Hot-Headed, Glutton, Erratic, Lazy, Slob, Squeamish, Evil, Kleptomaniac, Mean, Clumsy, Jealous 

-      Each child must complete their child aspiration and get an A in school before aging up

-      Optional (because I’ll forget): Snow White cannot talk to elderly women or eat apples.

Gen 2 Cinderella

-      Must have Neat and Foodie traits

-      Must be the only one to clean the house and cook all the meals

-      May not hire any help (no maid, butler, caterer)

-      2 of Cinderella’s siblings must stay in the household and live with them

-      They can have relationships and children as long as there is room for Tiana          to be born

-   They may move out after Snow White has died 

-      Your future spouse can move in, but you cannot get married until after Snow White has died 

Gen 3 Giselle

-        Must have the cheerful and/or romantic trait(s)

-        Have a whirlwind romance with a sim she’s just met – get engaged within first date

-        Before the wedding, somehow the two must get separated (i.e. a missed flight, kidnapped by aliens, your choice!)

-        While trying to get back in time for the wedding, Giselle must stay with a single parent who has the perfectionist and/or gloomy trait

Have a rocky start, but eventually the two of them fall for eachother

-        Have the first sim finally find Giselle – the two should break up shortly after this (you decide how) and stay good friends

Optional: follow the movie and have the first sim fall for your spouse’s ex

-        May have up to five children (Any child can be heir, including your spouse’s child from a previous relationship!)

 Gen 4 Tiana

-      Must have the Ambitious Trait 

-      Must get a Part Time Job as a Teenager 

-      Must get a Full Time Job the same day as your YA birthday and reach top as that career before death 

Optional (requires Dine Out): Instead of a traditional career, Tiana can purchase a restaurant where they work at least 5 days a week. 

-      Must marry a sim who is green (hair,eyes orskin) AND one of the following traits: 

Lazy, Slob, Snob, Materialistic, Noncommital, Insane 

-      Tiana’s Children must also get part time jobs as teens and full time jobs on their YA birthdays (with the exception of Mulan) 

-      Non-heir children must stay in the household until they reach lvl 5 of their careers and then they may move out 

-      Must have at least 2 children 

Gen 5 Mulan

-      Must have a different Aspiration from their parents and siblings, and possibly anyone else in the family tree

-      Must join a career that has not been done in the family before

-      Must complete their aspiration OR reach lvl 10 of their career before dating and getting married. No romantic interactions until then.

-      Must be BFFs with their future spouse before any romance happens, even after completing the above criteria

-      Even after getting married and having kids, Mulan needs to keep their job and is encouraged to complete more aspirations

Gen 6 Ariel

-      Must have the Curator aspiration

-      Cannot get an actual job. Instead they should spend their time completing as many collections as possible

One of those collections must be fish

-      After meeting their future spouse, they must marry them within 3 days (ideally in a big splashy wedding)

Optional: The love-interest must be another life state (alien, vampire) 

-      After getting married, they do one of the following: 

Leave home to live with their spouse OR 

You have to pay the toll: Move your family to an empty lot and use the money cheat to set your household funds to $3000 

Gen 7 Aurora

-      Must have the lazy trait

-      Must have 3 friends who are red, green and blue

-      Must move friends into your household as soon as possible but you cannot control them

-      May only live with BFFs and immediate family until Adult Birthday. During this time:

Except when meeting up with their love-interest, Aurora should leave the house and interact with others as little as possible

Cannot get an actual job – do freelance work or just work on skills

BFFs are allowed to get jobs but you should arrange their schedules so one of them is always home with Aurora

-      Aurora should meet their love-interest while sneaking out alone at night

-      On their adult birthday (or day after), Aurora should marry their love-interest in a wedding ceremony with their friends and family in attendance 

You can move the friends out after the wedding or keep them around to bother the newlyweds  

Aurora can now get a real job

-      Must have only 1 child  

Gen 8 Rapunzel

-      As a child, Rapunzel can only leave the house to go to school

-      As a teen, Rapunzel can only leave the house to go to school AND sneak out at night and when their parents are not home

-      As a child/teen Rapunzel must work on an “indoor” skill (Painting, writing, music) and reach lvl 8 before becoming a YA 

-      Your YA trait must be Loves Outdoors

-      While sneaking out, meet someone, fall in love, and elope. 

Rapunzel can now leave the house whenever they want

-      After marrigae, Rapunzel needs to pick up an “outdoor” skill (gardening, fishing)

-      Must use indoor and outdoor skills to earn money instead of getting a job

Both skills should be maxed by the time of death.

-      Must have 2 children

Gen 9 Anna and Elsa

-      Anna must have the Outgoing trait and Elsa must have the Loner Trait

-      Anna and Elsa must become BFFs as children

-      Right after her YA birthday, Anna should have a whirlwind romance with a sim she just meets.

They should get married and pregnant very quickly

Anna’s new spouse should cheat on her with Elsa, resulting in them having a baby as well

-      After both babies are born, Anna should learn of the betrayal 

Anna should get divorced from their spouse

Anna and Elsa should have a huge fight, resulting in one of them moving out and leaving their child behind for their sister to raise 

If Anna stays:

Anna should fall in love again and should ask them to move in

Anna can have more children with their new love interest, but these children cannot be heir 

Anna’s new love interest should have a job while Anna stays at home and throws parties all the time

Must throw a party at least once every 3 days

Must throw each type of party at least once

If Elsa stays:

Must join the political career and always work from home

May only leave home for work. Beside’s that Elsa should stay in the house

Elsa is not allowed to invited other sims over. Outside of work, they can only interact with the children

The children can each invite one friend over at a time

-      After Anna and Elsa’s children become teenagers, the missing sister should return and make up with their sister

Anna and Elsa should live together again

Gen 10 Jasmine

-      Must have the Good trait

-      Must fall in love and get married to a sim with the Evil trait

Spouse should be in the criminal career

-      Spouse must make enemies with 10 sims

-      Jasmine must befriend the same 10 sims

Should max out their relationship bar

Gen 11 Megara

-        Must have the gloomy trait

-        Must have a failed relationship where their partner cheats on them and leaves

Optional for story purposes: they sacrifice something large for this person before being left for another

-        Must join the criminal career or villain route of secret agent career after this (follow in Aladdin’s footsteps?)

-        While undercover/on the job, Megara must meet a rookie ‘hero’ who develops a crush on them early on

Spouse must be either a detective or secret agent (diamond agent route)

-        Megara eventually falls for the above mentioned sim and leaves the criminal career

May choose whatever career you’d like if you want your heir to continue to work

-        May have a maximum of two children

Gen 12 Belle

-      Must have the Bookworm trait

-      Date at least 5 men (?)

-      Move in your future spouse as a YA

-      Become enemies with your future spouse

Stay enemies with them for 1 week while living in the same house

-      After 1 week, start improving your relationship until you fall in love

-      Get married in a big splashy wedding ceremony

-      The Challenge ends where Belle’s oldest child becomes a YA

Generation 13 Merida

"If you had the chance to change your fate, would you?"  You always wondered why your mother gave up her riches for a poor boy. Your adventures lead you into trouble, and you were nearly always grounded. When Merida becomes a teenager this story begins.  -    Have the 'Self Assured' trait  -    Lose your siblings and mother in an unfortunate accident  -    Seek out a way to change the past but fail  -    You do not believe in love - never marry -    You believe you are cursed - never have children -    Grow up alone and regretful (These last three conditions are only in place because it is the last generation. If you wish to continue afterwards then Merida may marry and have kids)

My additions: Main story goal is to break the curse – may or may not succeed.

Gen 14 Kida

-        Should have the genius trait and join the scientist career

-        When the heir is a child, one of their parents should die in some fashion

-        Should befriend another sim who is somehow different (an alien, a human, someone from another country, etc)

-        Optional: If you have jungle adventures, the your heir and their ‘Milo’ should explore the temples together

-        Marriage isn’t required this gen, but your heir should eventually have a child with the different sim from above

+

Generation 15 Pocahontas 

"You think I'm an ignorant savage, you've been so many places, I guess it must be so."  You come from different worlds, yet the love of your life is forbidden by your family. When Pocahontas becomes a teenager this story begins. - Fall in love with a "different" kind of Sim, (e.g a green or blue Sim) - Marry that "different" kind of Sim.  - Run away and elope - Have a maximum of 4 kids

Generation 16: Moana 

"One day I'll know, how far I'll go" You grew up as the heir to a legacy, born to rule over others; however you want to explore and see the world. You know your choices make you who you are and you hope that one day they will show you the world. Starts when Moana becomes a teenager. -  Have the curator aspiration and the Loves Outdoors trait. -  Have a close relationship with her Grandmother (who dies before Moana becomes a YA) -  Run away from home and meet Maui, a man with no living family or relations, who you become BFFs with. You then have to find/craft plumbite (the heart of Te Fiti) and when you give it to your enemy (Te Ku) you become friends with them. -  Return home in glory. Marry Maui and have kids.

So I could already tell ahead of time that the combination of Disney, traditional fairytales, and mythology were going to be a downfall of mine (16 generations why do I do this to myself) So we’ll see how this goes!

Most of the generations are from @mdebunny ‘s DPR and from Playingwith mah’s Disney Princess Challenge though three (Megara, Giselle, and Kida because I’ve gotta include some of my other favorite Disney princesses) are my own.

[chillihansol]

Studio Shenanigans ; W O O Z I

[ bf!jihoon x reader ]

word count: 762 genre: fluff a/n: i was listening to ed sheeran while making this so i felt so good heheh. thank you anon for requesting this! im sorry it took so long but i hope you still like it. 

66: “Did you just wink at me?” 68: “Stop staring at me.”

“I still can’t believe that Woozi hyung lets Y/N inside the studio.” Seungkwan said through the microphone, shaking his head in disbelief.

I pressed the button before speaking, “This guy is pretty much in love at me, what can I say?” I grinned at Seungkwan. I glanced at Jihoon who was sitting right beside me and he gave me a death glare. 

“Yah, Seungkwan. Start singing the bridge. And when you do it well, you’re done.” Jihoon stated impatiently. He started playing the minus one of the song they’re working on.

As expected, Seungkwan sang it beautifully pouring all his feelings on the song. He did well on the first try but Jihoon wanted to record it again because of some minor flaws that I didn’t even notice when Seungkwan was singing. After two more recordings, Jihoon dismissed Seungkwan so he could start making the song.

A tired sigh let out Jihoon’s mouth as Seungkwan closed the door of the studio.

I turned from my seat to face him. “I saw no flaw on his singing.” I said flatly, tilting my head on the side.

“Of course you can’t see it. You have to listen to it.” He replied with the same tone I had. “But seriously, his vocals are no joke. I wasn’t just satisfied on his first try because I knew he could do better.” He sighed once again before working on his computer.

“Wow, I should be grateful to have a genius boyfriend, right?” I grinned, moving closer to him. He smirked at me, his eyes glued on the screen. 

I leaned on the table in front of us, resting my head on my arms, and stared at him as he did the magic on their music. I saw how committed he is on composing. His determination was something I adored in him. Even if sometimes we had fights because he’s staying late at night just to finish recording, his work was never a hindrance in our relationship. We have been together for a long time, so I don’t think that something’s going to break us apart now. His commitment to music is as strong as our commitment to each other.

“Stop staring at me. I’m trying to work here.” He muttered, but not annoyingly.

I ignored what he said and continued to look at him. He decided to ignore me too but when he couldn’t hold it anymore, he sighed, removing the headphones from his head. He placed it on the table before shifting his position and pulling my chair closer, making me sat up straightly.

He looked at me in the eye intently. “What do you want?”

“Nothing. I wasn’t saying anything. I was just looking at you.” I replied, shaking my head slightly.

He reached for my hands and slowly massaged them. Who said Jihoon didn’t like skinship? Well, he doesn’t really like it. But he loves small intimate actions like this.

“I feel like saying this to you, but I’m sorry that I had to work today. I know we haven’t spent much time together for the past week.” He said, still looking directly at my eyes.

“Jihoon, this is fine with me. As long as I’m with you, it’s fine. I’m actually very happy to see you work right now. Your presence fills me.” I smiled genuinely at him.

“Your words are good. You should write a song.” He smirked.

“Wow, you’re ruining the moment.” I sighed imitating Seungkwan’s sigh earlier. He laughed at me, his eyes closed forming into a thin line. “But I’m telling the truth. I’m really glad to see you work.”

“I don’t! You’re distracting me.” He whined a little.

“Is it my fault that you’re so in love with me?” I winked at him.

“Did you just wink at me?” He said in disgust. He hates it when I do it. 

I placed my free hand over my chest, pretending to be hurt on what he said. He broke into laughter when he saw it.

“How about you go back to editing so you could finish it immediately and we could spend time afterwards?” I rolled my eyes at him.

“Alright alright! Yes, ma’am!” He turned from his position shaking his head.

I went back to resting my head on the table and started staring at him once again. But as time passed by, I found myself drifting into my dreamland as he started humming my favorite song.

[lucas-taylor-rpg]

The Second It Began, Part 8

((Previously))

A few more minutes had passed. Lucas finished sipping his milk, prompting his father to comment, “Finally! Took you long enough.” Lucas frowned at him. The commander ignored that. He took the empty cup—and, much to his son’s disappointment, filled it up with more milk. Lucas frowned again. “Don’t give me that look, kid,” Taylor said while putting the cup back on the table. “You’ve got to drink.”

“No, I don’t,” Lucas replied. “I’ve had one cup, I think that’s enough for now. Actually, I think that’s enough for eternity.”

“Come on, it’s one cup,” Taylor urged. “Can’t you handle drinking just one more cup?”

“I can handle it with no problem,” Lucas claimed. “I just don’t want to.”

Taylor blinked. “Really? No problem?” he questioned. “It seemed to me you had a pretty big problem with the first cup. You were sipping it for half an hour.”

“I—” Lucas opened his mouth as if to respond, yet it took him a couple of seconds to find his words. Taylor raised his eyebrows at him. “That wasn’t because I couldn’t handle it!” the young man defended himself. “That was…” His voice trailed off.

“What?”

“You know what?” he said, leaning forward. “Here.” He grabbed the cup of milk and raised it to his lips. After giving his father a look, he downed its contents at once. Good grief, was it gross! He had to fight hard not to grimace at the taste—or, god forbid, puke. In spite of his efforts, there was a frown on his face as he put the empty cup down. He exhaled, then looked up at his father. “Happy?” he asked.

“Very,” Taylor said, smiling. “Want another one?”

“No!”

“Okay, then.” Taylor chuckled.

“I mean,” Lucas said, “I could handle it, you know? I could, believe me,” he insisted. He really did not want his father to think he was too much of a wimp to handle drinking something only because it did not taste great. “I just don’t want to because…” He paused for a second. “I want to save it for later.”

“If you say so…” Taylor took the cup and put it and the bottle into his bag. Afterwards, the commander leaned back. He eyed his son. The boy had been sitting in that chair for about an hour by then. While he had promised the kid two, he figured one was enough to get at once. “Hey, can I suggest something?” Taylor spoke up. “I know you still have an hour in my chair left, but how about you get it some other time? We could go walk through the rest of the colony now. I don’t know if I’ll get called away again later, and I was kind of hoping to get that done today.”

“Sure.” Lucas gave a nod. Immediately, his feet were down on the floor.

“Really?” Taylor asked while Lucas stood up. “You don’t mind?” He had not expected his son to agree so readily.

“To be honest with you,” the boy said as he stretched his body, “I was sitting in the same position for so long, it was starting to get uncomfortable.”

Taylor laughed at that. Lucas frowned once again.

(_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_)

They were walking through a part of Terra Nova which was surrounded by the wooden fence yet contained nothing but trees. His father insisted on showing him the entire colony, even the parts where nothing had been built yet. It was like walking through the jungle, except he knew he was (supposed to be) safe.

“Dad?” Lucas spoke up as they walked, prompting Taylor to look at him. “Can I ask you a question?”

“What?”

“Was it hard? Staying in the jungle on your own?” Lucas inquired. Taylor gave him a look, and Lucas added, “I mean, obviously, it must have been hard, but… I, I guess I’m trying to ask how hard it was. It’s just…” He paused, trying to find the right words. His father waited for him to finish the thought. “Well, you see, when they first told me what happened with the portal—that it malfunctioned when you walked through it and… Honestly, my first thought was: ‘He must be dead now.’ I mean, four months. That’s insane! The idea that you would survive out there, with all the dinosaurs and everything, all alone, for so long… It seemed impossible. But you survived.”

Taylor nodded. “I know what you mean,” he said. “If I had been in your place and heard this happened to somebody, I wouldn’t have thought they could have made it, either. Even now, having gone through it myself, I wouldn’t find it likely. It was a tough experience.”

“Yeah, but… you seem pretty okay now,” Lucas replied. “You’re still alive. You don’t even seem scarred by that. And I don’t mean just physical scars. I mean, you seem so happy here, like you really love this place. One would think you’d hate it here after what you went through.”

“Why would I hate it here? It’s not like it was Terra Nova’s fault I got stuck here alone.”

Lucas considered saying that Taylor clearly did not have a problem with hating people for things that were not their fault, but he decided to stay on topic. “So how hard was it?”

Taylor took in a breath. “Some days were… really hard. Some days were more or less okay,” he replied. “You know, it’s funny, most people think the hardest part about living out there was fighting off dinosaurs, but honestly? The worst part was being alone all the time.”

“Being alone?” Lucas questioned. “That doesn’t sound dangerous.”

“It wasn’t ‘dangerous’ per se; it was just hard to handle,” Taylor told him. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying living among dinosaurs wasn’t hard. It was. But it was more of a… occasional hardship. Every now and then, I’d have a really big problem, but most of the time, I managed to steer clear of them. But the isolation? That was constant. I couldn’t hide from that.”

“Yeah, but still,” Lucas said, “it’s just being alone… I’m not saying it sounds like fun, but it doesn’t seem that bad.”

“Actually, in some ways, I’d go as far as to say it was good for me,” the father claimed. “It gave me a lot of time to think, you know? About life, about what’s important and what’s not.”

“Really?” The boy chuckled. “You never struck me as the philosophical type.”

“Well, there are only so many things you can think about when you’re alone,” Taylor said, chuckling as well. “To be honest, sometimes I kind of want to go back there. Not for long, just for a day or two. Maybe even a week. Like on a vacation, to take a break, clear my head. It really helped me figure things out. On the other hand, being alone for long 118 days… That felt awful. Never being able to talk to anyone, not even see anyone… It’s not easy to be isolated for such a long time. It’s not easy at all. Frankly, there were days I worried I’d go crazy from the loneliness.”

Lucas was surprised to hear that. Taylor had never struck him as all that social, either. Sure, the man had friends, but they were only the people he knew from work. In fact, he barely spent any time with them outside of work. Lucas had not realized those people were so important to his father. “If you say so…” Besides, he still found it hard to believe that loneliness could be more difficult to deal with than the threat of becoming dino-food. After all, he had been lonely ever since his mother had died, and he was still alive nearly five years later. He did not think he would survive five years among dinosaurs. Shaking off that thought, Lucas spoke up, “So, Aristotle…” He chuckled to himself. “Amuse me: what is most important in life?”

A little smile appeared on Taylor’s face. “Family,” he answered.

“Ha!” Lucas laughed, and his father’s smile suddenly turned into a frown. “Come on!” the youth said. “You don’t really expect me to believe that, do you?”

Taylor blinked. “What, you don’t think family’s important?”

“I’m not saying I don’t think so. I’m saying I don’t believe that you think so,” Lucas clarified, his voice gaining a mere hint of bitterness.

“Oh, you think family doesn’t matter to me?”

Lucas shrugged and nodded at the same time.

Taylor snorted. “Why do you think I wanted you to come here, genius?”

“Because if I had stayed in 2143, you wouldn’t be able to get on my nerves?” His father shook his head while Lucas chuckled.

“Let’s be honest,” Taylor replied, “that’s probably the reason you came here.”

Lucas smirked. His father was not far from the truth. Not far at all.

(_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_)

They went around the whole colony. Taylor told Lucas not only about the places that were already there, but also about pretty much everything that was planned. Lucas wondered how many of those plans would come about before his employers would pillage the planet. He hoped it would not be a lot. The smaller the colony was, the easier it would be to defeat it.

Eventually, their walk led them back to where they had started—their house. “And, as you already know,” Taylor said, nodding towards the yellow building, “this is your new home.”

‘Home.’ It felt strange to hear his father say that. Not so much because it was new, but because he knew it would not last. Because he knew he could not want it to last. He had to hate it, did he not? A place he hated could not be considered ‘home.’

“Hey, I have an idea,” Taylor spoke up.

The young man looked at him, noting the father had a smile on his face. “What?”

“Why don’t we take a picture here?” Taylor suggested.

“A picture?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Let’s take a photo in front of the house. Our first picture together in Terra Nova.”

Lucas considered it for a second, then shook his head. “I don’t want to take a picture.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t like taking pictures,” Lucas claimed.

Taylor wrinkled his brows. “Since when?”

“Since you want to be in the picture, too.” After all, wouldn’t his handsome face fade in comparison with his father’s ugliness? He mentally laughed at the thought.

“Oh, come on! Just one photo, that won’t kill you,” Taylor insisted. He looked into the bag he was carrying and starting rummaging in it as he spoke, “Years from now, we can look at it and remember the early days of the colony and the time you arrived and how nice that all was.”

‘Nice’? Lucas had spent his first day feeling so sick he ended up vomiting, and Taylor still called it ‘nice’?

Finally, the father found what he was looking for. He pulled out a small, flat device with a tiny camera installed in it. He looked up at his son. “Let’s do this.” The man put his left arm around Lucas’s waist and pulled him in front of the house’s main entrance. Lucas groaned, but Taylor ignored that. Keeping his arm around the boy, he stood next to him. He raised his right hand, extending it before them. A screen on the device showed a preview of the picture they were about to take. They were standing a little too close in Lucas’s opinion (he would have preferred standing at least five feet apart), but he did not comment on that. Taylor smiled for the camera and got ready to capture the moment.

Realizing his father was not going to relent, Lucas complied and looked at the camera as well. The expression on his face, however, remained displeased.

“Come on, smile!” Taylor urged.

He did not feel like smiling, not in the slightest. Nevertheless, he wanted to get it over with, and so he forced a smile as bright and toothy as he could manage.

One second later, a quiet click was heard. Taylor lowered his hand. “There we go,” he said to himself. He tapped the device’s screen, and the image he had just taken reappeared. “Aw, look at us.” He chuckled, showing his son the photo.

It was an ordinary picture of two men, one young, at the mere beginning of adulthood, one older, with white hair to prove his years of wisdom. They were standing close next to each other, smiling at the camera. It looked sweet, actually. There was nothing in the picture to suggest it was fake. If it had been a photo of anybody else, Lucas would have been fooled into thinking the relationship between the two men was warm and loving. Into thinking the two led happy lives. ‘If only…’

“Isn’t it nice?” Taylor said, admiring the photograph. “You have such a pretty smile there.” It was not a smirk, it was not a grin of gloating amusement. The smile in the picture, while feigned, looked like a genuine smile of happiness. It was a beautiful sight in Taylor’s opinion. Not only because it meant his child was happy—a father’s greatest dream—, but also for the resemblance he bore to his mother. Taylor could always see Ayani’s features on Lucas’s face (to a certain extent, anyway), but nothing made it as obvious as the smile. “You should smile like that more often.”

“Oh, I smile plenty often,” Lucas claimed. “Just not when you’re around ’cause…” His voice trailed off. The boy gazed aside as if he was lost in thought. “You know, it’s strange,” he said, sounding confused in spite of the fact he was anything but, “I never feel like smiling when we’re together for some reason…”

Taylor narrowed his eyes, prompting Lucas to grin—not a happy grin, but a mocking one. The commander sighed. “Anyway…” He turned off the device and put it into his bag. “So now that we’ve finished our walk,” he said, looking up at his son, “what do you think of the colony?”

Lucas took in a breath. “Well,” he answered, “it’s no Chicago.”

Upon hearing that, Taylor furrowed his brows. “You’re saying that like it’s a bad thing.” Lucas shrugged. “Oh, please!” the commander replied, frowning. “That place is filthy; this world is pristine. Don’t tell me you’d rather live there.”

“I’m not saying that,” Lucas responded. “I’m just saying this place could use some work.”

“Believe me, people are working hard on it every day.”

Lucas did not find that hard to believe. If he were being honest with himself, the colony was bigger and built better than he had expected. For a place that had been founded mere five months earlier, he could see the beginning of a real town there. While impressive on the one hand (plus, he had to admit—the more advanced his new ‘home,’ the more comfortable his stay, however short), he was not glad there were such capable, industrious people.

“You know,” Commander Taylor spoke up, “there is one more place I want to take you to. And when we’re there, I promise you’ll see how great the colony is.”

“What place?”

Instead of answering, the corners of Taylor’s lips turned upwards. “It’s a surprise,” he said.

Lucas blinked. The look on his father’s face seemed rather sly. When he considered what a crazy place he had come to, the smile made Lucas feel a little nervous. “Seriously, where do you want to take me?” he asked again.

“Uh-uh. I’m not telling you,” Taylor insisted. “You’ll have to come with me and see for yourself.”

Lucas sighed. “Fine,” he said. “Can you at least tell me how long it’s going to take?”

“Not more than an hour.”

“An hour?” The boy thought about it for a moment, then said, “Okay, but I’m going to need to use the bathroom first.”

Upon hearing that, Taylor’s gaze narrowed. “You’re not sick again, are you?” he said, looking his son up and down. After all, the last time Lucas had announced he needed to use said room, he had gone there to puke.

“No,” Lucas assured him, “I just need to pee.”

“Okay, then.” Pleased to know that, Taylor nodded towards the house. “Go on.”

Lucas opened the front door and headed for the bathroom at the back of the house. In the meantime, Taylor walked into the kitchen. He put his bag onto the counter, then poured himself a glass of water.

A minute later, Lucas returned—with his right arm over his left shoulder. He glared at his father, eyes angry enough to kill. “Oh, no,” Taylor said when he took in what his son was doing. “Are you scratching again?”

“Yeah,” Lucas confirmed, scowling.

“I thought it stopped itching.” After all, Lucas had not scratched the whole time they were at his office. Nor while going around the colony. He had not even squirmed like he had while they had been watching the brachiosaurs.

“It did stop,” Lucas grumbled as he scratched his shoulder blade. “I don’t know. I guess when I was sitting there, I was thinking about other things…” He switched his hands, but the attempt was as futile as all his previous ones. “Then you asked me if I was sick again, and it got me thinking about how I was sick before and how I had the leech and how itchy it was, and suddenly it started itching again. This is your fault!”

Taylor gave a shrug. “Well, just stop thinking about it again.”

“I wish I could…” Lucas tried extending his arm as much as he could. His shoulder made a cracking sound, but he did not scratch his intended target.

“Your shoulder is cracking again.”

“I can hear,” Lucas all but snapped.

“Then stop scratching! You know you can’t reach the spot, anyway.” Lucas stopped, only to glare at his father, then resumed the desperate activity. His shoulder cracked once more. Taylor shook his head. “Lucas!” The son paused, looking at him. “Enough,” Taylor said. “Listen, when I take you to the place I want to take you to, I’m sure you’ll forget all about your itch.”

The young man frowned as his attempts to scratch proved to remain unsuccessful. He let his arm drop. “I hope you’re right.”

“I know I am,” Taylor said, sending the boy a little smile. Lucas began to walk towards the door, but Taylor stopped him. “Actually, you know what?” he spoke up. “I think I’m going to relieve myself, too.” Lucas nodded, then proceeded to scratch himself again. Why he was still trying was beyond Taylor’s comprehension; then again, Lucas had always been stubborn. Deciding not to comment on it further, Taylor reached for his bag. “Before I go…” The man took out the bottle of milk. When Lucas saw it, he could not help but groan. Taylor chuckled, then poured his son a glass and set it down onto the counter. “Enjoy.” Finally, he went to the bathroom.

Before his father could walk in, Lucas spoke up, “Dad?”

“What?” the man asked, looking back at his son.

“This might be wrong, but… Do you think it could be the gauze?”

“The itching?” Taylor questioned.

“Yeah,” Lucas replied, nodding. “I mean, I don’t know what it’s made of, but it’s not the same as my shirt. Do you think it could be the fabric?”

“Well, I don’t know, but…” Taylor shook his head. “I don’t think so. It’s probably just the wound healing.”

“I don’t know.” Lucas sighed. He tried to scratch himself with his left hand again. “Could you take it off?”

“I don’t know if that’s—”

“Just in case,” Lucas cut in. “It might not help, but maybe it will, you never know.”

Taylor flattened his lips for a moment. “Did the doctor say how long you should have it there?” he asked.

“Well, she only put it there because it was still bleeding a little. I’m sure it’s fine by now.”

Taylor walked toward his son. “Let me see.” Lucas turned around, lifting his shirt. There was a square of white gauze between the lower part of his shoulder blades, taped to his skin from top and bottom. The father took hold of the right edge of the upper tape and started peeling it off. Slowly, carefully, making sure not to disturb the bottom tape. Once the top was separated from Lucas’s skin, he took a look at the wound underneath. He frowned. “You’ve got a pretty big scab there,” he said.

“Is it bleeding?” Lucas asked.

“No, it doesn’t seem to be anymore.” After those words, he pulled off the bottom tape—fast. Lucas flinched. Given how gently his father had peeled of the top, he had not expected the sudden pain. Taylor heard Lucas let out a small gasp, and he could not help but chuckle at him. Lucas scowled. He pulled his shirt back down while Taylor threw the gauze in the trash. “Is the itching any better?” the man asked, looking up at his son.

Lucas shook his head. “No, it’s not,” he grumbled. He started to scratch himself once again. “It’s itching like crazy!”

“I told you it wasn’t the gauze,” Taylor replied, shrugging.

Lucas sighed. He was anything but happy about his father being right. “Just go to the bathroom… or whatever it is you wanted to do.”

Taylor turned around, walking towards the room in question. “And stop scratching already!” he ordered, looking at Lucas over his shoulder. “You know we agreed you’d only get two hours in my chair if you wouldn’t scratch.”

Lucas sighed again, but he lowered his hand, anyway. Taylor gave a nod, then went to the bathroom.

As soon as the door closed behind his father, Lucas began scratching his shoulder blade. The spot that itched, however, remained untouched.

He stopped a few seconds later. The boy shook his head. ‘This is useless,’ he thought, leaning against the kitchen counter. ‘I’ll never reach the spot on my own.’ Suddenly, he got an idea. What if he did not reach it on his own? What if he had help? Not his father’s help, of course; the man had made it clear he would leave Lucas to twist in the wind. But what if he had the help of an instrument? If he could not reach it on his own, perhaps he could find something around—a long, sharp object, preferably—to scratch himself with.

(_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_)

Commander Taylor walked out of the bathroom, only to hear Lucas utter a bathroom-related word. “Sheet,” Lucas said under his breath while staring at his right hand.

“Hey!” Lucas nearly flinched as he looked up at him. He lowered his hand, shielding it from Taylor’s view behind the counter. “Watch your tongue!” the father said.

“Sorry,” Lucas apologized.

Taylor went closer to the boy, eying him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Lucas quickly replied. “Doesn’t matter. Would you excuse me for just a second?” Sending his father a polite smile, he started to walk towards the bathroom.

The commander furrowed his brows. “Where are you going?”

“I need to pee,” Lucas claimed, not stopping in his tracks.

Taylor blinked. “You did that five minutes ago,” he said.

Lucas had reached the door by then. He opened it but did not walk in. Instead, he looked at his father and told him, “Yes, but then I drank the glass of milk, so now I have to go again.”

Lucas stepped into the small room while Taylor looked at the counter. The glass was standing at the same spot as before—and what more than that, not a single drop of milk was missing. “But the glass is still full.”

“No, it’s not,” Lucas called out from the bathroom, then closed the door.

Taylor looked at the glass once again. Unless he had gone mad and his eyes were deceiving him, it was full to the brim. He looked at the bathroom door, then back at the glass and back at the door. One thing he was sure of: Lucas had not gone to pee. He went over there. Not bothering to knock, he opened the door. He found Lucas crouching in front of the sink. The doors of the cabinet underneath it were open; he must have been searching it. However, as soon as he heard the bathroom door open, Lucas’s eyes shot up to his father. The youth scowled. “Excuse me!” he said. “Can’t I get some privacy? This is the bathroom.”

As he looked at him, Taylor noticed something concerning on Lucas’s hand—blood. A small amount of it, to be fair, but even that was more than there should have been. “What happened to your hand?” He bended over and tried to take hold of it to have a closer look, but the boy pulled away. “What��”

“Okay, just,” he cut in, looking up at his father, “just promise you won’t get mad.”

Taylor furrowed his brows. If his son was asking him not to get mad, that probably meant he would, in fact, get mad. However, he could see in Lucas’s eyes (the kid was staring hard at him—why was he not blinking again?) that he would not get an answer unless he complied. “I promise.”

Lucas studied his father’s face. He knew the man had broken similar promises in the past. Then again, he seemed to be in a good mood that day; perhaps he would not be angry. Lucas blinked and heaved a sigh. “My hand’s fine. I wiped that off my back,” he admitted. He got up from his crouch, getting on the same level as the commander. “I think I may have—accidentally, mind you…” Lucas paused for two seconds. Taylor raised his eyebrows, already suspecting how the sentence would end. “…scratched off the scab.”

“What?” Taylor replied, even though Lucas had said exactly what he had expected.

“I don’t know. I can’t see it, but—”

“Let me see.” Taylor went behind Lucas and lifted his shirt up. Sure enough, red was trickling down from the spot where the leech had bitten him.

Lucas tried turning his head back, but he did not manage to see the condition of the scab. “Is it off?”

“Mostly,” the old man confirmed. “It’s hanging there by one edge, but it’s not covering the wound.”

“Damn,” Lucas muttered while Taylor let go of the shirt. The boy crouched again, looking into the open cabinet.“Hey, where is the healing spray?” he asked. “Do we not have it?”

“Top shelf, in the back, but…” Taylor took in a breath. “Son, I think you might better go back to the infirmary.”

“What?” Lucas glanced up at him, then shook his head. He looked back into the cabinet. “No. Come on, it’s not that bad, is it?”

“Well, I don’t know how deep the leech bit you, but didn’t you say the doctor rubbed some ointment on the wound to help it heal?”

“So?”

“Don’t you think you might need the ointment again since you re-opened the wound? If the spray had been enough, she could have just sprayed it in the first place,” Taylor said.

“I’m sure the spray is enough. Ah, here,” Lucas said as he found what he was looking for. He took out a small, gray bottle of medical spray. He stood up straight and held it out to his father. “Can you spray it?”

“No.”

“Dad—”

“But I can take you to the infirmary.”

He did not want to go back there. Especially not with his father. The doctor would surely lecture him for scratching the wound. Then his father would find out he had lied about scratching being allowed. And then his father would scold him, too. He was hoping to avoid all that. Lucas shook his head. “I really don’t think it’s necessary.”

“Well, I really…” Taylor paused. “Actually, I don’t know if it’s necessary, but I’m not taking any chances.” He snatched the spray from Lucas’s hand and placed it onto the sink’s edge. “We’re going.” After those words, he headed out of the bathroom and to the front door.

Lucas took in a deep breath. His eyes traveled up towards the ceiling as he mentally asked higher powers he did not believe in for mercy. Afterwards, he followed his father.

Taylor was already at the door, but when he reached for the handle, he stopped. He turned around and looked back at Lucas, his eyes as narrow as his mind (at least where his son was concerned, or so Lucas thought). “How did this happen, anyway?” the man asked. “I thought you couldn’t reach the spot.”

“I couldn’t,” Lucas replied. “Not with my hands, anyway…”

“Oh. What did you scratch with?”

Lucas shrugged. “Just… something I found nearby.”

It was at that moment that Taylor’s eyes landed on the kitchen counter Lucas was standing next to. The answer was lying right there in plain sight. Taylor’s narrow eyes suddenly widened. “A knife?” he questioned incredulously. Lucas shrugged again. “Are you kidding me? You scratched a scab on your back with a knife? Of course you scratched it off! What were you thinking?!”

Lucas frowned. He had known his father’s promise not to get angry would be broken. “I wasn’t thinking. I was itching,” he grumbled.

Taylor shook his head, then opened the door. “Come on, you genius,” he said and proceeded to walk out.

Lucas stayed behind for a moment, fuming. His frown turned into a scowl. ‘Genius.’ Good god, he hated it when his father used that word ironically! He went after his father, but he slammed the front door shut when he left the house. Taylor did not seem to notice that.

After a few seconds, Lucas caught up to the old man. Together, they walked in the direction of the infirmary. Once again, Commander Taylor shook his head. “I told you to stop scratching,” he muttered. “I told you, but you just wouldn’t listen…”

The son sighed. “In my defense,” he spoke up, “the wound’s not itching anymore, so, you know… At least it worked. That’s a good thing, right?” Taylor sent him a glare. “Okay, I’ll shut up now,” Lucas concluded, looking away.

He walked the rest of the way in silence. When they arrived in front of the building that was the infirmary, Taylor held the door open for him. He took in a deep breath, then stepped inside.

Oh, he really hoped the doctor would not scold him…

(_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_)

“Come on, I told you not to scratch the wound.”

Damn it! The doctor’s tone sounded awfully similar to the one his father would use when admonishing him. Lucas frowned.

When Taylor heard what she said, Lucas’s ‘I’m sure it’s fine’ came back to mind. The father gave his son a look.

Lucas shrugged. “I forgot.” Taylor shook his head, seeing through the lie.

The doctor sighed, then said she was going to get more ointment.

(_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_)

“There we go,” the doctor said after cleaning the blood and applying the ointment. “But no scratching this time, all right? Just leave it be for the day. It’ll stop itching in a few hours. Okay?”

“O-kay,” Lucas uttered. What, did she think he was an idiot? That he had not learned his lesson? That he was too weak to control himself? He barely knew her (he did not even remember her name, in spite of the fact she had introduced herself to them when they had first arrived), but he already disliked her.

She stepped over to a nearby table, where she took some tape and a piece of gauze. As she was about to cover the wound, Commander Taylor stopped her. “Actually, you know what?” he spoke up. “I was thinking, do you have anything around here that could help relieve the itching? Another ointment or something?”

Lucas’s eyes snapped to his father.

“I can take a loo—”

“I don’t need another ointment,” Lucas interrupted her, glaring at his father. What, did great Commander think he was weak, too? Of course he did. In fact, he had held that opinion for as long as Lucas could remember. It gleamed in his eyes whenever he looked at his son.

“If you didn’t need it,” Taylor told him, “we wouldn’t be here right now.”

And there he had it. The look was confirmed by his words (not that it was necessary). Lucas scowled. “That’s not true!” he argued, telling it to himself as much as he was telling it to his father.

The doctor looked at him, then at Taylor. Taking a step forward, she said, “I will go—”

“Hang on!” Lucas stopped her. “I don’t want any ointment or anything else for the itching. I can handle it.”

Taylor eyed him, clearly not of the same belief. “Are you sure about that?”

“Positive.”

In spite of Lucas’s wish, the doctor still looked at Taylor to see if she should go get something for the itching or not. Apparently, it did not matter to her that he was an adult, that he was in charge of himself. In the doctor’s eyes, the great, greatest Commander Taylor ruled everyone. He really disliked her.

Taylor just shrugged when she looked at him, and so she proceeded to tape the square of white to his back. Before letting him go, she reminded him one more time not to scratch the wound. Lucas bit his lip. Hard. His nostril flared a bit, but he did not say anything in response. A part of him wanted to snap at her; however, he figured it would be best not to make enemies just yet. (Sure, he had to consider everyone there an enemy, but he did not want to be considered an enemy himself. He had to keep up appearances until he finished his job.) Instead, he decided to leave. He quickly put on his shirt, practically jumped off the bed and headed straight for the main exit without bothering to say goodbye.

Taylor followed him, wondering why it was that Lucas was walking so quickly.

Once they were outside the building, Taylor spoke up, “So are you ready for our trip?”

Lucas groaned.

“Well, gee, don’t be too excited.”

“Do we have to go now?” Lucas asked. “It’s been a long day.”

Taylor furrowed his brows. “It’s only afternoon. And you slept for almost twelve hours last night,” he said. “Are you all right?”

Lucas sighed. “I’m fine,” he lied.

“You don’t look fine.”

‘Oh, what do you know?’ Lucas thought in annoyance. Since when did his father not fall for the ‘I’m fine’ reassurance? True, he had not said it very convincingly, but he had not thought it would be necessary.

“What’s going on, son?” Taylor asked.

Lucas shook his head. “Nothing. It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it,” he replied. Taylor raised his eyebrows, tilting his head a little. Lucas stuck his hands into his pockets, shifting his weight on his feet. “Look,” he said, briefly glancing at the ground, “I’m… not in the best mood right now.”

“Is the wound itching again?”

“Not yet.” Thank god.

“Then why are you in a bad mood?”

“I don’t know. I just…” Lucas took in a breath, glancing away again. “Sometimes moods just happen, you know?”

Taylor heaved a sigh, then decided not to question his son any further. He suspected the mood was not random (although he was not sure of its cause), but if Lucas wanted to keep it to himself, he would not force him to do otherwise. “Well, trust me,” the father said, “the place I want to take you to will make your mood a lot better. It’s impossible to be in a bad mood there.”

‘I don’t think a place like that exists…’ “Let’s go, then,” Lucas said, forcing a smile. Taylor returned it with one that seemed a lot more genuine. After giving a nod, the commander started walking. Lucas followed him. “So where is it we’re going?” the boy inquired.

“First, we’re going for a car,” Taylor said. “We’re going to drive there.”

Drive? Was the place in the jungle? That did not seem safe. Then again, his father probably knew better if it was safe or not. Unless his father was taking him there to kill him… Geez, why did that thought occur to him again? Mentally shrugging it off, Lucas spoke up, “And we’ll be back in about an hour, right?”

“Yeah, probably,” Taylor confirmed.

Lucas gave a nod. “Can I get the second hour in your chair as soon as we come back?” he asked. He was not sure why, but sitting behind the dino-desk had felt empowering. He figured he needed that.

“Oh, you’re not getting the second hour,” Taylor said—rather nonchalantly, Lucas was disappointed to note.

As soon as he heard what his father said, Lucas stopped dead in his tracks. “What?”

Taylor came to a halt as well. He looked at his son and sighed. “I’m sorry, but that was meant to be a reward. You didn’t earn it.”

Lucas glared at him, but when Taylor returned the stare, his gaze softened. “But you promised,” the boy all but whined.

“The agreement was you’d only get two hours if you stopped scratching,” Taylor countered. “Which you clearly didn’t do.”

“But I—”

“Commander!” a familiar male voice interrupted their conversation. Upon turning his head in its direction, Lucas found Lieutenant Guzman rushing to them.

Commander Taylor took a few steps toward him. “Guz, what is it?” he asked.

When Guzman reached him, he explained the situation to Taylor. Lucas did not catch the whole conversation (partly because they were not standing right next to him and were using more-or-less quiet voices, partly because he just did not care enough to listen and so let his mind wander), but he overheard a mention of Washington and the barracks. Based on the little information he had, Lucas guessed his father would need to leave.

After a minute, Taylor and Guzman exchanged nods. While the latter began walking away, the former came back to Lucas. “I knew I would get called away again,” Taylor said, more to himself than to Lucas.

It appeared Lucas’s guess had been correct.

“Listen, I have to go now, but I’ll be back within half an hour. We’re going to go as soon as I come for you, okay?”

Lucas shrugged. “I guess…”

“Go back to the house and wait for me there. This won’t take long, I promise.”

Ah, another promise Lucas was sure would be broken.

He did not mind, though. In fact, he was glad to have some time away from his father. He needed a break from the old man’s presence. After he gave his father a nod, the commander left, and Lucas went back to his new house.

((Continue here))

[assweetassuga]

Prompt 15: Late Night Confessions

Prompt: "do you have ANY idea what time it is-” “Shhhh-" “AND YOU’RE OUT HERE ON THE STREETS IN YOUR PAJAMAS” “Not so loud" “no, you PUT me down right this instant-” AU: Roommate Genre: fluff Ship: Reader x Min Yoongi/ Suga Third person POV with reader referred to as 'Y/N', 'she', 'her',... Note: Yoongi isn't 'famous' or part of BTS here. He's only an aspiring music producer who is somewhat well known. Warning: this is pretty long and not proofread or edited. ___________________________________ It wasn't Y/N's fault. It really wasn't. She tried her hardest to avoid failing her exams but she let one subject slip away and earn her an F. But it wasn't her fault, the professor hated her and made it her mission to fail Y/N- only because she wouldn't talk much during class. What kind of dumb reason was that? And what did the professor benefit from having her repeat the class and seeing her again?- Y/N could never figure it out. Anyway, despite it only being ten in the morning, Y/N's day was already ruined. Having received her grades for the previous semester with many disappointments, she cancelled her plans to meet up with her friends and headed back to the apartment she shared with the self-proclaimed world renowned music producer, Min Yoongi, who was actually only a locally known but brilliant producer who worked behind the scenes for some very well known groups and artists. Although his work can be done from the comfort of his own room/ office, his company forces him to work from their official building, so she was sure she wouldn't find him when she reached their shared space. Despite this, she made sure to knock on his door once she got home and was actually surprised to hear a response. Suddenly concerned, Y/N entered his room and almost immediately tripped on a shoe placed haphazardly in front of the door. "Yah Min Yoongi clean your room up it's a safety hazard," Yoongi, who was somewhat concealed by the back of his huge desk chair, swiveled around in said chair while posing like The Godfather and and eyed her silently, quirking an eyebrow. "It's an organized mess. It reflects my genius," Y/N rolled her eyes at his typical response and walked over closer to him, seating herself on the small couch next to his desk. "Whatever. Why are you here?" "What? Can't I be in my room?" "You know what I mean. Aren't you supposed to be at work?" "I am at work," "Yoong," "Y/N (nickname)," "I'm waiting for a valid response," "I gave you one," Y/N usually loved their routine banter, but on that specific day she couldn't even handle looking at him, let alone talking to him. She was feeling especially guilty that day, because he was expecting her to inform him of her grades and he knew she was stalling. The only reason she felt guilty about her less-than-satisfactory results was because he'd actually taken time out of his busy schedule to help her study some topics he was good at, and she didn't want to seem like she was taking his help for granted by displaying such ugly marks. Since she wasn't getting anywhere with her attempt at stalling, she decided to just leave and avoid talking about the topic. With that, she got off the couch, gave him one last eye roll, and headed towards the door that would lead her to her freedom and her cosy bed. "Not so fast, Y/N," Y/N couldn't hide her groan and rested her hand on the door knob. She closed her eyes and composed herself, trying to look as innocent as possible before she turned around to face him. "Yes, Yoongi?" "Your grades please," and he held out his arm for the folder that she held that contained the shameful truth. "Uuuhh... I didn't get them," "Bullshit. Hand it over," "Please no," "Y/N," "Please," she begged, using the well known puppy dog eyes technique she knew would usually work on him. "Your cuteness won't work this time. Come on, Y/N, show me your grades. I know they're not as bad as you're making them seem," "They are, I swear they are. You'll be disappointed and you'll realize you wasted your time. And I'm sorry about that. I really am. Just please don't look at them," "Y/N, it's okay. I promise you I won't be mad. And you're not a waste of time, I actually enjoyed those study sessions, even if you think they didn't pay off," Y/N jutted her bottom lip out, pouting, as she tried one last attempt at the puppy dog plead. Realizing it really didn't work this time, she visibly deflated and huffed. "Fine. I'll give you the folder, but don't open it before I leave the room. Let me leave first then look at them. Please," "Whatever you want, Y/N," "Promise me," "I promise," "Pinkie swear?" Yoongi chuckled at that but held up his little finger. "Pinkie swear," he said as they hooked their fingers. As soon as the oath was bound, Y/N all but ran out of his room and over to hers after throwing the folder on his bed. Without even bothering to take her clothes off, she dove onto her own bed and rolled herself up in her bedcovers like a burrito. Within half an hour, unexpected sleep overtook her, leaving a confused Yoongi standing at the foot of her bed with her grades in his hands. "She falls asleep even faster than I do. What a weirdo," he mumbled as he placed the grades folder on her desk and wrote her a sticky note- which he then stuck on the folder. He decided against waking her up and let her rest after weeks of stressing over finals and the results afterwards, promising himself he'd check on her around dinner time after he ordered something for them to eat. Fourteen hours later, Y/N woke up with a pounding headache. Confused about the year and the planet she lived on, she groped around for her phone to check those details before she checked herself into a mental hospital. She found her phone dug under her back bra strap; how it got there was a mystery to her and the universe. As soon as she saw the time and the darkness outside her open windows, she yelped and her phone slid out of her hands. She'd never been able to sleep for fourteen continuous hours; she must've been really upset in order for her to take a depression nap like that. With a throbbing head and numb limbs, she got off her bed and tiptoed to the shared bathroom, trying not to make any sound and thus avoid any unnecessary encounters with her roommate. She still didn't know how to face him after those shameful grades. When she passed the kitchen she saw a bag of food from the usual place she and Yoongi would order from when they wanted to treat themselves- but there was no Yoongi and no indication of him having eaten. She immediately felt bad, she was usually the one who nagged/ reminded him to eat, while he was the one who reminded her to do everything she forgot to do... which is everything needed to function as a human being. She decided to check up on him after relieving her sad, distended bladder and then brushing her teeth. Yoongi wasn't in his room when she slowly opened his door. He wasn't in the living room either. He was no where to be found, and she was starting to worry. At this time he'd usually be asleep, eating or working away at his laptop, finishing what he couldn't during the day, but he wasn't doing that right now, and breaking a habit was near impossible for him. She called his phone too many times for rationality before she discovered it buried underneath his bedsheets. The fact that he didn't have his phone on him worried her even more. She paced the apartment endlessly, thinking of a logical course of action, before she threw caution to the wind and put on her shoes and coat and head out to look for him in the few places he went to when he left home or work. An hour later found a furious Y/N and an out-of-character Yoongi. "do you have ANY idea what time it is-” she started, seething with anger and worry. “SHHHH-” “AND YOU’RE OUT HERE ON THE STREETS IN YOUR PAJAMAS," “Not so loud, Y/N,” “no, you PUT me down right this instant-” "Y/N, stop fidgeting," he whined, holding her bridal style and swinging her left and right as if to halt her movements. "Yoongi I'm dead serious put me down right now," Y/N's heart was pounding with fear of falling- perhaps both ways of that sense. "What if I don't want to," he deadpanned, posing it as a phrase instead of a sentence. "You'll regret it. If you let me fall I'll have your head. I'm pretty sure you're drunk and I don't need a head injury right now," He suddenly stopped the swinging but he kept her in his arms. "I'm not drunk," he said, sounding as sober as ever. "Then what are you doing?" Y/N was convinced he wasn't drunk- despite the fact that he can hold his liquor, Yoongi was a way-too-obvious drunk, his face would be flushed and his eyes would be unfocused and watery. He would also be unstable on his feet and he sure as hell wouldn't be able to lift and carry her like this. Right now, his eyes were watery, but that was probably because of lack of sleep- also evidenced by the black under-eye bags. "I'm carrying you back home," he replied, tilting his face to where hers was, smiling his rare wide smile that made Y/N want to frame it and keep it with her for when she was feeling down... which was generally all the time. "Can I ask why?" She inquired after she recovered from the effect his smile had on her. "No," he smiled again, sarcastically this time, but still a smile she loved seeing. For someone who was as attractive looking while straight-faced as Yoongi, his smile always left an unexpected aftertaste in Y/N's heart that was different from the usual appreciation she had for his looks. I mean, come on. She knew being attracted to her roommate was a bad idea, but it's not like it was interfering with anything... maybe. Whenever she was confronted with her potential feelings for him she'd always shut them out and ignore them; she was convinced they were useless and more than likely only one sided. Besides, she was fine with her relationship with him as it was; she was too terrified of alienating him by talking about such useless things as emotions. Shaking her head to clear her thoughts and think of a response for his statement, she narrowed her eyes at him as her gave her a (cute) shit eating grin and shuffled her in his arms, shifting her weight to distribute it evenly so it wouldn't interfere with their walk back home. "Yoongi seriously I'm too heavy for this just put me down," "Don't wanna," he said and held her tighter. Y/N's heart squeezed at that- before she shut it up, that is. "Yooooooongiiiiiiii," she whined, then she realized there was no getting anywhere with him. "Fine, then at least tell me where you were," "Hmm," he feigned being deep in thought, "I was just out and about, walking to clear my head," "You and I both know you don't do that," "Indeed?" "Indeed," "Maybe indeed will be our always," "Shut up doofus," They both erupted in hardly muted fits of giggles, Y/N's left arm went around Yoongi's waist and clutched the back of his shirt while he subconsciously brought her closer to his chest. They were aware of how silly the exchange was but they both were smitten by each other's presence that they couldn't see the signs staring them right in the eyes. "Yoongi aren't you exhausted?" She asked as she saw him unsuccessfully hide his yawn. Both of them were unconscious of her right arm slowly inching up to reach his face until it touched the side of his cheekbone. He shook his head in denial but his drooping eyelids and watery eyes betrayed him. Her thumb stroked his cheek languidly, neither of them minding the contact. In fact, they were both enjoying the minimal skinship- not that either of them would admit it even if it saved their lives. "We'll be home soon," he whispered, subconsciously angling his face towards her touch. She nodded, maintaining the eye contact as she consciously caressed his cheek, enjoying the way her heart reacted to a gesture as small as him smiling faintly in response. His smile grew as she cupped his cheek with her entire hand while she still caressed his cheekbone with her thumb. She nodded in acknowledgement of his statement as their faces drew closer and their emotions ran deeper. They've been dancing around each other for the past three years, so this advancement in their relationship was logical- at least that's what Yoongi thought. Y/N held her breath and stilled as she watched him draw even closer, letting him take this interaction in the direction he wanted. She thought her heart would burst out of her chest as he rested his forehead on hers and closed his eyes as he sighed slowly. Her hand was still on his face but it was inching closer to his neck and then his hair. She'd always wanted to stroke his hair and feel its softness- despite his claims of it being rough and damaged because of over-dying, it was actually silky smooth and fluffy she was almost jealous. "Y/N," he started, his voice rougher than usual despite the fact that he was whispering. "Hmm?" She couldn't bring herself to say anything besides a hum in fear of ruining the moment. "If you keep doing that I might fall asleep while walking," he whispered, his eyes still closed, causing her to smirk triumphantly and angle her face up so both their foreheads and noses were touching. Still stroking his hair, she inched her face away from his, causing his eyes to fly open at the sudden loss of contact. Before he can question it, she quickly pecked his nose and just as quickly moved back, almost falling in Yoongi's suddenly less stable arms, then hiding her face in his chest. She didn't want to over think and go over what she just did and what it could mean to him but it was hard to avoid the thoughts... until he stopped walking and slowly set her back to her feet, her face still buried in his chest. Both hearts pounding and minds racing, each one of the two individuals was thinking of a way to take this moment in the direction he and she wanted. The directions were the same, unbeknownst to the other party. Suddenly decisive, Yoongi placed his arms around her waist, silently asking her to look at him. Once she did, he took his chance. With their eyes staring into the others' and both of his hands cupping her small face, he gently brushed their lips together in an almost-but-not-exactly kiss. They both sighed at the teasing contact but stayed where they were, collecting their wits and attempting to calm their racing hearts. Y/N's arms circled his waist, prompting him closer. He took the gesture as encouragement and pressed their lips together as he kissed her over and over in small, innocent kisses that conveyed both their feelings for each other. Y/N kissed back, and after countless tiny kisses that made her head spin into euphoria, she held his face in place and deepened the kiss, starting slowly at first and then exploding and letting rip the fire of emotions she felt for him. After his initial shock he reciprocated, and all too soon they were both coming up for air. "Damn, Y/N," he sighed, eyes wide and pupils blown wider than she's ever seen them, "if I'd known that would be your response I would've kissed you sooner. Much, much sooner," Suddenly shy, Y/N kissed his cheek in response and buried her face in his chest. He drew her in closer and held her tightly, smiling faintly at the precious girl in his arms. Even without verbal confession, he knew he finally had her. Years and years of pining were worth it for just this moment of complete satisfaction and tranquility- he wondered if this is what happiness truly felt like. They remained standing in the same spot, in each others' arms, for what felt like a happy lifetime. They weren't sure who moved first, but at some point they resumed their walk home, still wrapped in each other with small smiles and secretive glances. Anyone could tell they were smitten- it was as if they were in their own heart-shaped bubble with small heart-shaped bubbles floating around them. In short, it was super cheesy and they both knew it. Once they got home, the atmosphere shifted and became somewhat heavier. Yoongi- whose stomach rumbled loudly at some point during the walk- headed straight for the kitchen, while Y/N went to her room to change into her pajamas before joining Yoongi for a late night snack. "What're we having?" She asked as she entered the kitchen wearing one of her better pajamas. Yoongi, whose back was turned to her, lifted the bag of food that he'd ordered almost a lifetime ago, but it was empty as he'd removed the containers and was heating up the food. "It'll be ready in around five minutes," "'Kay," she replied, walking slowly toward him and hugging him from behind, resting her head on the back of his shoulder. He stiffened slightly at the unexpected contact but relaxed almost immediately, letting out a soothing sigh as he got back to the mugs of hot chocolate he was preparing. Y/N's head was placed strategically to hear his heartbeat, and she was strangely satisfied to hear it beating as rapidly as hers was. The disbelief as to what had happened earlier was starting to sink in- had they really kissed? Did they really have such a cute moment just around an hour ago? She was baffled- she never expected one of her greatest wishes would come true this easily. "Yoongi," she murmured slowly, mind still foggy. "Yes love?" He replied, throwing in the endearment almost mindlessly and causing Y/N to melt and spike her heartbeat up a few notches. "I- we- that is, um... what-" Yoongi cut her off by turning around and holding her arms tightly but not painfully while looking directly into her eyes as if trying to convey a message merely by eye contact. "Y/N," "Yes?" She squeaked uncharacteristically then cringed at how she was acting. Why was Yoongi turning her into a pile of mush like this? He blinked slowly once, twice, three times, the action mesmerizing Y/N and causing her to reflexively mirror him. "I'm going to say this once because honest to god I haven't had much time to prepare and I want to do it now so please pay attention. Y/N, you mean the world to me. I mean it, you're more important to me than anything or anyone else. You make me want to say and do cheesy things like in those movies you watch when you're PMSing. You make me want to laugh and cry and love and hate and I just- you make me feel. Ever since I met you five years ago and especially three years ago when you let me move in- you slowly wore down my walls and let yourself into my entire being and helped me learn how to feel again- and I love you for that. I don't know if mere words can describe this... thing that I'm feeling but, Y/N I don't think I can ever just remain 'friends' or 'roommates' simply. I've been in love with you for so long and I've had many opportunities to tell you and hopefully make you mine but I've always chickened out- until tonight when my cousin called me crying about losing his wife and asking me to come over and help with arrangements. His situation terrified me and I realized I would never want to lose you like he lost his wife- his other half. Yes, I realize I'm being super cheesy and we're not married or anything but you bring out this side in me and I'm not sure if I should hate you or love you for it- although I'm inclined to choose the latter. I'm not sure why I'm telling you all this and I'm probably scaring you off but it's been building inside for so long it was bound to come out at some point. Y/N, I love you so much and I can't see myself without you in any way. Will you accept my feelings and make me yours?" Throughout his speech, Y/N got more and more teary eyed until the tears started flowing rapidly when he mentioned his cousin's loss. Once he noticed the tears streaming down her face, he panicked and tried to backtrack and rectify what he said, until she interrupted him with a kiss she didn't realize she was capable of giving. She kissed him with all the passion she had and a handful more, conveying all the love and tenderness she felt for him, answering all his questions and giving him more answers than he'd asked. Her kiss made his head spin so fast he almost forgot his own name, which he was reminded of when she sighed it heavily after they broke apart for air. Tears still streaming down her face, she held his in both hands and tried to word exactly what she was trying to say with her kiss. "The feelings you induce in me when you're around, when you look at me and talk to me and touch me, even the innocent and mindless touches, cannot be explained by the simple word 'love'. Yoongi, the way I feel for you transcends any emotion articulated by our limited human vocabulary, but for the lack of better wording, I love you. I love love love you so much I never thought I'd be able to tell you. Yes, I accept your feelings. I am yours and you are mine and I don't want this to ever change. I love you Yoongi, so much that it terrifies me," she ended her smaller speech with a sigh and a shake of her head. "You've even made me cry because I couldn't handle my emotions. I hope you can take responsibility for that. Oh, and," she added as an afterthought, "after this I will be clinging to you like a damn koala so much so you'll regret this," she giggled, silently praying that he'd never regret this; them. At this he laughed loudly, his lips stretching over his teeth and gums in a genuine laugh at her ridiculousness- not that she minded, she loved his smile and even more so his laugh; both so rare but so beautiful. She voiced her thoughts, ceasing his laugh but causing him to grin stupidly at her statement. "That smile and laugh, they're yours and yours only," he proclaimed, pecking her forehead and holding her close. "That's so damn cheesy though," she groaned, her voice muffled because her face was pressed to his chest, "but I love this side of yours," "Well I love you, so I guess it's a fair trade," "You, sir, are the king of cheese," "You love it though," "Damn right I do," she admitted, kissing his cheek and begrudgingly removing herself from his warm embrace after both their stomachs rumbled embarrassingly loudly causing them both to burst into laughter. "So the food's ready. Let's eat quickly, Y/N, I want to sleep next to you tonight," Y/N blinked at the unexpected statement and blushed when the words sunk in. She squeaked a quick 'okay' and took the plates of food and mugs of hot chocolate from him and placed them on the table. He joined her soon after, displaying a self-satisfied smile and a twinkle in his eyes. Halfway through their meal, Yoongi seemed to remember something. "Oh, before I forget. Y/N, about your grades-" "Aaaaaaagh Yoongs no don't bring this up when I'm in the best mood," whined Y/N, pouting. "I'm not disappointed in you, baby," he rolled his eyes, Y/N's heart skipping a beat at the pet name, "however," Y/N could see a dangerous glint in his eyes before he finished his sentence, "I will have to punish you later for that D-," and he winked, pulverizing Y/N's intestines into mush and coloring her cheeks a warm red. She felt her whole body heating up in a blush at his comment, but she soon recovered and swatted at his arm, looking him straight in the eye and trying to mess with him too. "I can't wait, sweetheart," smirking, she stroked his hand as it lay on the table close to her then linked their fingers together, before looking up through her eyelashes at a violently blushing Min Yoongi. "I really can't wait,"

[octoberwren]

Prompt: Steve x Darcy: Is it too late? (My Dear)

So I have lowkey shipped this couple for years, not because I was ashamed or anything, but because there were so much amazing fanfiction out there for them already, and I was slightly (a lot) intimidated by it. So I didn’t think I’d be able to get their voices right or do it justice. But I decided recently to broaden my horizons as some you who follow me might know already. And the wonderful human who runs @shieldshockfanfic​ gave me some prompts to run with and I decided on this one, it just hit all the right angsty notes with me. So I just wanted to say THANK YOU to @shieldshockfanfic for the heartwarming encouragement to help me be brave. Much Love to you!

Hope you enjoy the read.

You can also read it on Ao3 for your convenience.

Summary:  First there's a kidnapping. Then a bullet. And all Darcy really knows is that she despises portals.

 As far as kidnappings went Darcy's one was pretty creative, she'd have to admit, albeit grudgingly and Tony would have to finally give up the good alcohol, for her to ever reveal that little truth nugget.

 Portals weren't an unusual thing in the science labs, no matter how many times she had threatened the genius/deranged people she called her friends, that portals were a bad time waiting to happen.

 She was right. Darcy was always right, which was why it was super annoying that no one ever, ya' know, listened to her.

 But the portal that had Darcy immediately glaring at, with all of her only-one-cup-of-coffee-today fury didn't actually come from Jane or more shockingly, Tony. It came from some brightly dressed assholes in yellow hazmat suits.

 Joy.

 Of course, she threw her cup at one of the idiots head and of course when they started making grabby hands, she shoved Jane into one of the rooms made for a very specific reason; keeping The Hulk from squishing people. She slammed her hand on the red button that everyone said not to touch, and locked the furious and cussing scientist/future Queen of Asgard inside.

 She never claimed to have superb self-preservation skills, but she's sure someone would be totally proud of how she took a swing at another henchman, knocking him on his ass.

 It's her, she's the one proud of knocking him on his ass. She didn't even have the training for that move! And they said movies can't teach you things.

She's was still grinning manically, even when the blood dripped from her mouth from their retaliation on her.

 The alarms were still going mad and Jane was still cussing a blue streak when they shoved her none too gently inside the portal. Real creative, who knew A.I.M had the balls to even try that.

 And now she's currently tied to a chair in an empty room, which was more clichéd, so they're not exactly batting a thousand in her humble opinion.

 An opinion she voiced much to the displeasure of Squirrely Eyes whose scowl would make small children cry, luckily for Darcy she's witnessed Steve's Disappointed In You patented face, she's been through way worse.

 Just thinking of the man, that she has an adolescence crush from hell for, gives her the backbone to not give up. Because despite her bravado, she is absolutely fucking terrified, the hands behind her back are shaking and she can feel the tremor in her legs.

 But Steve, amazing man that he is, wouldn't back down, he'd fight, even if the whole world was telling him to back off, to move on, he wouldn't. He didn't. He stood up and he fought back with everything he had and then some.

 He helped Tony and Bucky in the best way he could, he made them a team again, it took a lot of time and so much shouting, she had to rush to her room, before she did something stupid, like cry in front of them.

 Or worse, punch them in the face.

 With Steve's pure stubbornness, they mended their relationship, the team started to fight the good fight again. The movie nights returned, and Darcy tried to help in any way she could.

 She made food for when they returned home bloody, she spoke to Bucky when late at night he'd wander the halls. She helped Tony get off his ass and talk to Pepper.

 She mostly avoided Steve, not that she didn't desperately want to talk to him, hug him, feed him hot cocoa. (Watching him beat the crap out of his punching bag was her favorite past time) But when they had first come back before she had even a chance to speak to him, Darcy had overheard Sam tease him about a kiss and then the name Sharon Carter had come up and she got her ass out of dodge.

 Afterward, she tried and spectacularly failed to notice his frown every time she sat on the opposite side of the lounge at movie night or made up some excuse when he entered the room. She was a big girl and Darcy knew that the only way this could possibly hurt this much, was a fact she wanted to bury, that she didn't have a crush on him, it was something, much, much worse.

 She didn't even hate Sharon, the woman was badass, of course Steve had gone for her, he deserved that after all he'd been through, something truly amazing.

 Darcy wasn't a hero, she wasn't a beautiful agent with scary skills.

 She was just Darcy, a woman who swore when she breathed, had sarcasm running through her veins and a scary addiction to caffeine. She was a college dropout turned lab assistant to her best friend, she'd never be good enough for a man like Steve, a war hero, a bonafide superhero and the bravest man she had ever known.

 But right now she was regretting every single step away from him, she was probably going to die by these bumblebees and he'd never know how much she-

 The crack against her cheek snapped her back into painful reality and Darcy groaned then glared when she tasted the metallic taste of blood. "What the actual fuck dude?!"

 Another slap and Darcy was getting real tired of this shit, "You weren't paying attention." He condescendingly told her, with a skeevy smile.

 "To what, your evil monologue?" Darcy took every reserve of anger she had left, which was a lot actually, and spat blood on his shiny black shoes.

 She smiled brightly at his disgust, "In case you haven't noticed, you took the wrong girl, I thought A.I.M was supposed to be the smart villains. I might be brunette, but I'm no Jane Foster."

 She gave him a ‘so there' look which he promptly ignored, the bastard.

 Squirrely Eyes leaned into her personal space and Darcy barely held in the gag at his overwhelming cologne, "And what makes you think you're not the girl we were after Darcy Lewis?"

 "First off, it's woman, thank you very much, I grew these boobs at thirteen and went through enough jackasses teasing me to deserve the title. Also, whaaaat?" she regretted mentioning the word boobs as soon as she said it, because now the only thing the creep was staring at was the girls, which, gross.

 Still talking to her boobs, The Pervert said, "There's someone very important who loves you, oh so much. A moron would be able to see it. And I'd bet he'd be willing to do anything to get you back. Like giving up a sample of his blood."

 Despite the situation, despite everything telling her, lies, lies, lies, her stupid heart was thumping with erratic speed, not in fear, but with something that felt suspiciously like hope. The traitor.

 "Thor?" She squeezed out because come on! He couldn't mean-

 Pervy Mcpervasin laughed in her face and Darcy scrunched up her nose because, hello no personal space, thy name is asshole.

 "I would have thought The Captain would have chosen a smarter woman, someone like Sharon Carter."

 She would have winced at his words, if she hadn't been too busy breaking his nose with her forehead. 

 Wow… where did that hot white anger come from? It's like she blacked out in a rage and woke up to his piggish squealing.

 He was holding his bloody nose with one hand, while she just blinked at him, "That'll teach you to respect personal space, numbnuts."

 "Ooo bish." How he slurred the words was still funny, even as he swung his hand for another strike to her face, only to be interrupted by an explosion that had the building rocking from the force.

 Her captor swung around to stare at the still closed door, Darcy let out a chuckle at his surprised action, "Oooh you're in trouble." She sing songed at his back.

 He turned to glare at her, "Ut up"

 "Seriously," Darcy continued, heedless of his garbled warning, "What kind of dumbass pokes that bear? Don't get me wrong, your plan was super-duper good, if not totally clichéd," She wasn't letting that go, it started off so well, "But… and this is a big, huge, don't-fuck-with-Captain-America kind of mistake. Your plan worked. He's here. So ya' know. Have fun with that, dead man walking."

 He was purple by the time she finished and with all that anger being directed at her, he reached out and grabbed her hair so hard her scalp burned, "I will ki-"

 The door burst in and a seething Steve, in all his Captain America glory, stepped into the room, "Let. Her. Go. Now." He clipped out of clenched teeth, the menace and screaming danger pouring off of him in waves. It would have been terrifying, if it didn't turn her on so much.

 Which was super awkward given the situation.

 "Told you so." Darcy snarked to the idiot still holding onto her head, Steve's gaze connected with her own and her breath snagged against her lungs at the intensity of his eyes.

 Maybe he did care about her? In a non platonic kind of way.

 But when he trailed those eyes over her face, (by the pain she was in, Darcy knew she looked like a bloody mess,) his blue eyes went savage in fury.

 "You have one second to take your filthy tainted hands off of her, before I tell the guy with a gun to put a bullet in you." Steve growled out taking a threatening step forward to reveal Bucky at his back and 0.1 milliseconds later, the -for once smart- man, practically tripped away with his arms up.

 "Smart move." He said before swinging his shield into an arch and knocking the portal hopping jackass unconscious and crumbling to the floor.

 Steve was at her side in a second flipping open a knife to cut the zip ties locking her in place, when her hands were free, she rubbed at the raw skin. That would take a couple days to feel not so crappy.

 She barely had a chance to get up on her own power before Steve was hauling her up and checking her face over, "Are you okay? Of course, you're not okay, stupid question. Tell me where else it hurts, does anything else hurt, Sweetheart?" He was so frantic, that thankfully he missed the blush staining her cheeks and the popping of her eyeballs.

 Sweetheart?

 Darcy looked at Bucky who was still hovering in the doorway, to check if she was as slack-jawed as she felt.

 He only made it worse my smirking and winking at her, the asshole.

 "Doll? Are you hurt anywhere else, we need to get you to medical anyway, but I want to know." She snapped her attention to Steve's stupidly handsome face and those baby blues that screamed concerned and Darcy could feel her broken heart melting.

 "What, this?" She choked out, but when he looked more anxious and on the verge of carrying her out, by just her voice, Darcy made sure her next words were light and teasing, anything to get that look off his face.

 "It was just a love tap. Dude could take some lessons from me, I knocked his buddy out with one hit." She was still proud of that damnit, and it seemed so was Steve as the first smile she had seen from him yet graced his soft lips.

 "I know," He whispered, while stroking her cheekbone with his thumb, "I saw, you have one hell of a right hook, Sweetheart."

 Her breath hitched for the second time in a matter of minutes, not just because of the pet name (seriously? Did the man forget she had a name?) but by the tender (almost adoring?) way he was looking at her.

 She opened her mouth to say, something, she had no idea, but a cough from Bucky had Steve snatching his hands away from her face. Darcy ducked her head down, her hair falling like a curtain to cut off her hurt from him.

 What did she expect really?

 "We should head back." The former assassin said, she caught Steve's terse nod as she looked up, he motioned for her to go in front of him, presumably so she'd be safe between the both of them.

 Darcy, for life of her, would never know what exactly made her turn before the super soldiers, it might have been a shift in the air, an out of place noise, a feeling maybe. The obvious point is, she did turn before them so she was the first to notice, the not so unconscious man lift a gun to Steve's back.

 Probably the second more obvious soul wrecking point, was the split second she tried to push Steve out of the way, he noticed as well and turned back to shove her behind him, so Darcy got a wall of muscle for protection and Steve...

 God Steve, no, not him, not him.  

 The first bullet ripped through his chest, the second came from Bucky as he put one square between that fuckers eyes. But Darcy didn't care about that, all she cared about was that the love of her life was falling to his knees, with blood spreading over his beloved uniform.

 "Nonononononono," Darcy hit the ground hard as she crawled over to him, but she didn't care about her pain, "Steve, come on, open those baby blues I adore. Open them, Steve. Please?"

 But he wasn't opening them, and with a trembling hand she felt his pulse and gasped out an agonized sob.

 Bucky was white noise behind her, something about Tony and medic, but Darcy was ripping off her top, scrunching it up and and and,

 Her hands were red. Blood red. Steve's blood, oh fuck this wasn't happening.

 "I tried to move on just to see you happy, you can't be happy if you're dead Steve. You're not dead. You're not. Open your fucking eyes, Steve. I need you to be happy," She was rambling, she thinks this is what people like Jane would call hysteria or was it going into shock?

 His face was pale, snow like, he was…she wouldn't be able to survive this, she knew her limits, her capabilities and this was not one of them.

 Darcy could already feel the black void of nothingness stretching open her heart and it was frightening and cold and so very lonely without him.

 His chest wasn't moving, even as she tried to pump air into lungs with her hands and breathe life into his red stained lips. This was not the kiss she always dreamt of and gave up on, this tasted like death and desolation.

 "Steve, Steve, I love you, okay, I love you. So, S-so come on, don't l-leave me, I need you, I need your smile, and your old timey speak and your optimism to brighten my day. A-and I-I don't care if you don't love me b-back. I just need you to be alive. Please, please, Steve. Please be alive." Her head was over his heart, and she heard nothing, nothing.

 Nothing but her hyperventilation. There was no air, none. Oh, God.

 "I'll stop avoiding you."She whispered into his chest and clutched the material of both their clothing, "Please come back to me."

 "Kid!" It was a disjointed voice, like something you'd hear from the bottom of deep water, she ignored it.

 Because if she stayed right here, if she kept talking, if she kept her head right here, over the heart she always wanted to keep safe, he'd wake up.

 He'd wake up.

 He had too.

 Steve was invincible, larger than life, the man with a plan.

 He had a plan right? Did anyone? Did she?

 "Please."

 "Kid you have to let go, we have to-"

 "Get the fuck off me! No, don't leave him! He has a plan! Let go!"

 "Sorry, Darcy."Such soft words and a small needle.

 "Don't leave me, Steve." a whimper, then Darcy went limp like a rag doll, "It should have been me."

   Darcy gasped in oxygen and shot upright from a deep sleep. 

 Waking up was never a joyous occasion for her, she'd beg and plead to the Gods above to shut off her alarm and bargain with her soul just to have a few more minutes.

 But this was different.

 Darcy blinked trying to figure out just what was-

 Oh.

 She really had been hysterical if Bucky had to inject something to make her go to dreamland.

 Steve.

 Steve was dead, wasn't he? It wasn't an awful nightmare if the blood under her fingernails were any kind of morbid proof enough.

 Before she knew it her hands were under the tap and her skin was raw from scrubbing, ripping off her pants, where was her other shirt? Right, she basically gave Bucky a free showing when she tore it off her body.

 An amused chuckle left her, that slowly turned into a full blown belly laugh until tears streamed down her face, just picturing his face as she basically straddled Steve in only her bra, had her in hysterical giggles.

 Or maybe it was just hysteria, because she wasn't laughing anymore, the tears were streaming down her face when she opened the shower door and put the water to just the point of boiling, over her clammy skin.

 Maybe she should go find The Winter Soldier and ask for the really good stuff, because she had a feeling she wouldn't be sleeping or stopping the bone crushing sobs anytime soon.

 She was numb and in agonizing pain all at once, Darcy had never ever felt this lost and broken before, she felt fragile, like porcelain as she slid down the tiles and hugged her knees to her chest, the water beating against her skin.

  She tried to focus on one spot and not think of him, or how he always made her coffee when she was feeling down, or once ran in the rain to save her from a bad date, how he managed to make her a little less cynical by just being him.

 She tried to forget how stupidly in love with him she was, how she knew that she'd always be in love with him.

 Even now that he was gone.

 He was gone.

 Her head fell against her kneecaps, and long after the water had gone cold, she still couldn't stop thinking about him.

 How Steve died because of her, because of her stupidity. How could she let herself get captured? He always wanted her to get some training, but Darcy blew it off, no one was coming to get her after all.

 "Oh, Darcy." the soft whimsical voice of her best friend floated to her from inside the shower.

 She was wrapped up in Jane's arms before she could blink, her whispers of, "It's okay, it's okay." the only noise besides the streaming water.

 "It's not Jane, Steve's-" She couldn't even say it, saying it made it real and Darcy was far from ready to face her new reality.

 "Hey, it's alright," Jane, sweet Jane, swept away her wet hair and tucked it behind Darcy's ear, "He's alive."

 Her words were spoken in English, but Jane might as well been talking a language from another planet, for all the good it did Darcy’s sluggish mind.

 "...What?"

 "He's alive."

 Darcy shoved up to standing and turned off the shower, while Jane stepped outside and grabbed a towel to hand to her, Darcy robotically took it with numb hands and wrapped it around her shivering body.

 She shook her head slowly, not comprehending, "No, Jane. I saw him, he didn't have a pulse."

 She would have felt that? Wouldn't she have?

 Jane shrugged, "Apparently it's a super soldier thing, his heart rate slowed, just like when he was frozen for years, it allowed Helen Cho to work her magic. She explained it to me but I'm not that kind of doctor. He's only now regained consciousness. I was checking up on him for you, seeing as you were so…out of it when you got here."

 Darcy sucked in a breath, the relief hitting her in full force that her knees almost buckled under her,  Jane quickly led her back to her bed, where she collapsed against the mattress.

 "He's alive." she breathed, testing the words in her mouth, trying to make it tangible.

 "He is, I thought maybe you'd want to go get dressed and see him?" Jane had always known about her feelings towards Steve and she had always wanted Darcy to tell him outright, she thought Steve felt the same.

 But nothing had really changed had it? He was still dating Sharon, and now Darcy had almost killed him.

 Aside from her love confession to him while he was bleeding out, everything was back to normal, except now Bucky knew, which was disturbing to think about actually.

 "Darcy?"

 "No, not today, I can't today Jane." She was liable to do something stupid, like spill her guts again.

 Her friend opened her mouth, probably to go on a rant but the look in her eyes made Jane snap it shut, and nod tightly. "Fine, you get today but tomorrow you're seeing him."

 Yep, tomorrow she’ll say thanks for saving my life man, and sorry I almost ended yours. But that could wait.

 She just needed today.

Okay, so it had already been two days, fine three. But who was counting?

 Apparently, Bucky was, because every time she ran from Steve, his best pal was waiting in the shadows, lifting up a digit on his finger to show the exact amount of days, she had been sneaking around the tower.

 Fine, avoidance was her name and avoiding was her game, it didn't help that Tony, Natasha, and Clint kept giving her the damn side eye as well. Apparently, Bucky wasn't the only one to witness her breakdown.

 And now because the team was all honesty, all the time, she was forced to deal with all of the disappointment in their faces.

 Not Coolio dudes.

 Even Tony. Tony. Mr-conceal-don't-feel himself, gave a shake of his head.

 Well fuck that noise, by the time the fourth day came around and one more soft (but not that soft Bucky!) whispered ‘idiot' and she locked herself in her room with wine and ice cream.

 The perfect break up combo. Except she hadn't broken up with him. She scoffed in derision at herself, yep, she needed this.

 The knock on her door had her slamming down her- just poured- glass of wine, and stomping to the door in agitation. She swung open the door to give Tom, Dick or Harry a verbal beat down.

 Only it was Steve, and he was mighty pissed by the dark frown plastered to his face.

 Her knee jerk reaction was to slam the door in his face, only Steve was one step ahead of her, as he gripped the side of the door so hard his knuckles turned white and she feared for the metals safety.

 "Don't." He gritted out, while pushing himself through the door and effectively making her take a couple of steps back.

 The slam of the closing door made her jump and Darcy cursed at herself, she wasn't afraid of Steve, she would never be afraid of him.

 But nervous? Yeah, she could be that, especially since that too tight t-shirt and jeans made her want to climb him like a tree.

 And he smelled so delicious that she wanted to lick and bite at the skin that tease of a shirt gave away…wait when did he get so close?

 "You said you wouldn't avoid me anymore" Steve moved closer, his lips pulled into a thin line, "You're a lot of things Darce, but I never took you for a liar."

 "Huh?" She was beyond confused, not because he knew she was avoiding him, Steve was intelligent, Darcy figured he would put two and two together, sooner or later. She just thought she would have screwed up her courage by then.

 No, she was confused because he said she told him that, which was impossible because she never said anything about…oh, shity, shit, shit.

 It was like the proverbial light switch clicked on; He heard her.

 Which also meant he heard… "Oh, fuck." She breathed out, her anxiousness racked up to about a thousand and she was backing away so fast and looking for the damn exit sign.

 "So what is it Doll?" Her heart skipped at that, and at the intense way he was tracking her with his blue eyes "You have the courage to tell me while I'm bleeding under your hands, but not when I'm standing right here in front of you?"

 "Uhm…" Darcy's back hit the wall and Steve was suddenly right in front of her, so very, very close.

 Between a rock and hard place, she had the insane urge to giggle but stopped at the blaze in his eyes.

 "You love me." There might have been a fire in his eyes, but his words were so gentle, whispered like an intimacy they only shared.

 Those three quietly spoken words were about as subtle as a bomb going off in her silent apartment, loud, deafening and the inevitable wreckage would be irreparable.

 "You're dating Sharon." Darcy gasped out as his hand landed on her shoulder, his calloused palm making her shiver.

 "I'm not." He said but when Darcy arched an-are you shitting me-eyebrow, Steve shook his head. "I'm not, it was never like that between her and I."

 "But Sam said you kissed her." Why did she sound like a whiny teenager?

 "Was that why you refused to even look me in the eye, when I came back?" When Darcy said nothing, he let out a deep sigh of frustration, "It didn't mean anything, I tried to make it mean something at first, but I knew as soon as it happened that it was a mistake. I was going through a lot and well, I'm not proud of it, but I-"

 "Wanted to have something, just in case?" Darcy asked because she honestly got it, with Peggy and then Bucky, and to top it all off, the catastrophe that ended with Tony.

 Fighting against his teammates, it was a shitty time for him and he thought he might not make it back, she couldn't blame him, she never did.

 He didn't owe her anything, they weren't together, they were friends who occasionally binge-watched shows and sat talking for hours together.

 Even though she tried to hide it, he must have seen the pain flicker on her face because he was cupping her face in his large hands, "It was something like that, but I did come home, and when everything settled, I couldn't stop thinking of a mouthy brunette."

 "Tony?" She said just to sass him, he huffed out a laugh, staring at her with something that looked a lot like adoration.

 "No, babydoll, I couldn't stop thinking about you." Darcy couldn't look away now, even if she wanted to, " and when I realized that, I spoke to Sharon and she agreed that we were better off as friends. It was better that way. So that’s when I came to the tower hoping to talk to you, but you were doing everything in your power to be in the exact opposite place that I was."

 "Steve…"

 "So I thought, ‘She must not feel the same way I do' and it tore at me Darcy, but If you wanted space, I'd give it to you. I'd give you anything you wanted or needed." Steve pushed the hair out of her eyes, and tilted her chin so she was staring right into his deep and tender gaze. 

 He gave a sad sort of smile to her, "Even if that meant what you wanted wasn't me."

 Darcy knew she had to put it all on the line now and yes, she was scared shitless but, if this brave man could trust her with all of his feelings, then she could grow some balls and tell him some home truths as well.

 "I know I'm awesome. I know that." She had to be clear on that, because she knew she was kickass but, "You just always seemed so far out of my league, another dimension really."

 Steve got that look of anger again, the one she saw just as she opened the door, "What the hell are you talking about Babydoll?"

 "Look, just listen alright?" The nicknames weren't helping either, they were very distracting, in the best kind of way.

 Steve nodded once, tightly, so she rushed to continue before he could rant, which looked like he was on the verge of doing.

 "I'm not talking about the Superhero thing, although that's some of it, I'll never be an agent or a hero. I don't think I'll ever be able to really know about The Captain's world, because I don't go out and fight like you guys do. And that's fine, I can live with that, I help in the ways that I can. I accepted that a long time ago, what I really struggle with is this," Darcy reached over to lay her hand over his beating heart.

 The very thing she thought had died days ago, and just feeling it thump against her palm was memorizing.

 "This is Steve Rogers, the man that makes Captain America who he is. This heart has always been so pure and so good, that I don't think mine will ever measure up. I swear more than I breathe, I don't like a lot of people and I get pissy when the coffee machine breaks. I'm just Darcy and because of me this wonderful heart almost stopped beating."

 The absolute quiet when she stopped talking was tense and suffocating so much so, that she wished Jane would walk in to drag her to work, just so she would be saved from herself.

 Steve's arms slammed against the wall beside her head caging her in and she let out a gasp at the several emotions mixing in his tortured eyes, "Just Darcy,? You say that like that hasn't always been perfection to me. Just Darcy, always made me feel like I wasn't alone in this world when everything else had been taken from me. Just Darcy, spoke to Bucky like a human being instead of the monster he thought he was. Just Darcy, drank with a broken Tony when he needed it at sent him after Pepper when he thought he didn't deserve it."

 "She threw Jane out of danger, made sure her best friend was safe before slugging an asshole who should never have put his hands on her, then faced a dozen armed men with a grin on her face." Steve wiped the tears that were falling from her eyes and then leant down to rest his forehead against her own,

 "You scared the living hell out of me when I found out that they had taken you, all I could think was that I was too late, I'd never see you again and that I wouldn't be able to tell you...then when I got there, you were taunting that son of a bitch, and I didn't know whether I wanted to strangle you or kiss you until you were too dazed to do anything else."

 For once in her life, Darcy was speechless, she had no witty reply or inappropriate response, she was stunned that Steve, gorgeous, wonderful Steve felt that strongly for her, she wanted to do a dance, she wanted to cry, she really wanted that kiss he brought up because it sounded…it actually sounded like…

 "Also, don't for one second blame yourself for that bullet," And there went her happy glow, her stomach plummeted and she felt nauseous just remembering that mess of a day.

 "Hey," Steve whispered trying to get her to look at him, when that didn't work he cupped her face again, which was becoming a habit of his, not that she was complaining. "I would do it again in a second. That might not be what you want to hear, but you'll always come first to me Darcy. You'll always be my top priority, so maybe it's a good thing you don't fight with us because I wouldn't be able to do my job otherwise. And yes it was touch and go there for a bit, but do you know what brought me back?"

 She had a feeling but you know what they say about assuming, so she shook her head, and prayed that the hope that was spreading through her body like liquid sun, bright and dazzling, wouldn't be crushed with his next words.

 "It was you, I heard your voice Darce, I heard you say ‘I love you' and I knew I had to fight my way back so I could tell you something as well," He leant down to kiss her jaw then her cheek, and finally her forehead.

 Only to lean back again to stare into her eyes, his lips breaking into a dazzling smile that set her heart on fire, "I love you, Just Darcy, I have for a very long time now and I'm hoping you'll say you love me too, because I'm wide awake now and I desperately want you to be my girl."

 When she stared wide eyed at him, because yes, this is exactly what she wanted but she didn't actually think it would happen, Steve for the first time that night, got a nervous look in his eyes as he searched her face.

 "Unless you're afraid of something else or?"

 She looked up at him and now that he mentioned it, "You're way too tall, and I'm super short Steve, things like that could be deal breakers." Her shit eating grin was instantly wiped off her face and she let out an embarrassed squeaking sound, when he very suddenly dropped his hands to her thighs and hauled her up against his firm body.

 Darcy wrapped her legs around his hips on reflex, her hands curling around his neck wasn't that, but it was on her bucket list, so.

 "There are ways around it." Steve growled out in his deep voice and holy shit if he didn't kiss her like right the fuck no-

 Oh that was much better.. His lips were smooth against her own, but his tongue was scorching hot as he licked his way into her mouth, and Darcy was surprised she hadn't spontaneously combusted yet, it was a kiss made for the silver screen. Or a porno. Especially when he moved his hips and she got hit with some mind blowing friction, enough to let out a wanton moan at the contact.

 Steve nipped at her lip in response to that moan and tangled his hand through Darcy’s hair, sending the best shiver racing up her spine, "Say it." He groaned against her mouth, his other hand grabbing a handful of her ass and squeezing it possessively, pushing her closer to him, like he wanted absolutely no space between them.  

 "God, you're beautiful Darcy. Made for me, Doll." Steve moved to her neck, licking a spot that made her legs tighten and instinctively thrust up against him, which made him groan and push her harder up against the wall.

 "Darcy," His voice was wrecked, a breathless growl, "say it."

 "Uhnmmg." That honestly was the best she could come up with, as his very talented mouth continued its assault on her neck and turned her brain into mush.

 But when he leant back, her whine of displeasure followed him. She blinked up at him, opening her eyes to his, only to wish she kept them closed because she was sure she was going to melt into a puddle just staring at him.

 Steve's hair was disheveled, his chest was heaving in breaths, but it was his eyes that had her almost undone. They looked almost feral, his pupils were blown wide in lust, Darcy's hand clenched his hair in response to that look, if this was only from a kiss, then how the hell would they survive the sex?

 "Darcy, I need you to say it, I need to hear it. Please." The hoarse way he asked made her finally pay attention to the question.

 Oh. Whoops. Well he couldn't blame her, she had been thinking about this moment for years,

 "Steve," She made sure she looked straight into his eyes, she carded her her hands through his hair and whispered, "I'm in love with you, I loved you when it almost killed us both, and I'll love you forever if you let me."

 "Always." He said instantaneously, kissing her nose, "So, does this mean you'll be my girl?"

 "Well, I don't know," She knew the way she said it was dripping in tease and trouble, he knew it too by the arch of his eyebrow, "You know how they say to always test drive the car before making a lifetime commitment?"

 Darcy couldn't help waggling her eyebrows, even when he snorted in amusement at her, "I wanted to take you on date first, Babydoll."

 Him nipping at her ear kind of ruined the absolute sweetness of his words, "Screw the date Steve, I want to start living our lives together, now."

 "Yeah," He said already walking to the bedroom with her in his arms, "Now sounds good Darce, real good."

 And it was good, amazing, perfect; their lives together. The sex was pretty fan-fucking-tastic as well.

That’s it my Darlings, thank you so much for reading! You have no idea how much I appreciate that ; ) Much Love.