#anyone who bothers to read through the entire history gets a pat on the back and a medal for bravery

[marmotish]

Introducing — a profile much more detailed than I have ever filled out, and likely to be further edited and refined.

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More pages under the cut!

[monzamash]

down under — daniel ricciardo

daniel ricciardo x you | 1.3k summary – daniel receives a gift from a friend on the morning of the aus gp. warnings – 18+ (sex, course language) a/n – just wild, wild thoughts and prompts from @percervall & @estevries — both legends and brilliant writers. thank you for inspiring something so fun x masterlist

A loud yelp followed by a chesty laugh caught your attention as you stood in front of the hotel’s en suite mirror, putting on your face for the day. Daniel had answered the door and received whatever it was concierge had brought to your room. For you, it was too early to be bothered by anyone – the long haul flight that Daniel had warned you about had killed your mood and regret immediately set in while you tossed and turned all night, wishing you had heeded his warnings and flown to Australia earlier in the week with him.

The jet lag alone was bad enough without misty rain sweeping past the large sky-scraping windows, dampening the city and your already miserable spirit. There was no place you would rather be though – supporting and loving on your man for his first grand prix appearance of the season. It had been tough for both of you watching afar, the good and the bad memories flooding back. Recent history.

But Daniel had reassured you that he was at peace with his choices, happy to be a guest on the sidelines and you believed him. His smile was brighter, his painfully lame jokes were funnier and his charming disposition oozing contentment, finally returned. He was free to be who he wanted to be and to do whatever the fuck he wanted, when he wanted. Including annoying the absolute shit out of you every chance he got.

“Oh, honey! You gotta come out here and see these!” Daniel shouted from behind the door separating the two of you, closed by design so you could get through your morning routine without interruption.

“I’m drying my hair! Can you wait?”

He couldn’t. The door sliding open triggered an eye roll; knowing your kind hearted, generous boyfriend was barging in without invitation, giggles still bubbling away behind pursed lips, failing to suppress his little snorts. The whirring echo of your hairdryer diminished as you switched it off and set it down on the countertop, clipping the rest of your hair up before giving Daniel so much as a look – or a death stare.

“What do ya reckon?” He asked, patting your backside a couple of times to get your attention, bare feet tapping on the cold tiles as if he was jumping on the spot behind you. He was.

You sighed softly to yourself, prepared to plaster on a smile through gritted teeth for him as you spun around but you didn’t need to. The quick glance at Daniel’s goofy smile was brief before your eyes instantly trailed down his bare torso and landed on the only piece of material sheathing his toned body.

All that was covering him from being stark naked was a pair of skin tight Australian flag patterned budgy smugglers. Nothing else and truth be told, they weren't full-coverage. Not even a little bit.

“What the fuck are those?!” You gasped, a laugh slipping from your lips before you could clasp your hand over your mouth, shocked by the sight.

“Hot, right?” Of course he loved himself sick in them.

"Is that what concierge just dropped off? Who sent them?" You asked incredulously, reaching out and grabbing the small card hanging from Daniel's fingertips.

"It's a bucks night present from Scotty – apparently he wants all the boys to be matching when we go out on Sunday night," He replied with a raspy chuckle, aware of how strange that sounded and you couldn't help but roll your eyes when you read, 'don't cock it up and let the boys down' as you finished reading the note.

"You two fuckin' worry me sometimes..."

Your eyebrows had a life of their own, quirked so high on your forehead you were certain they had risen off your face entirely as you glanced down again. Yes, Daniel was hot, insanely so, but even you could see past all the abs and sexiness and admit he looked ridiculous, posing in front of you and catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror behind your head, smiling from ear to ear at how hilarious he looked. Blue steel activated.

“Want me to model these for ya?” He teased, poking his butt out and flexing his muscles like a body builder would.

“Seriously though – yeah or nah?”

“For what exactly?” You scoffed, unsure of what kind of yeah-nah, open-ended question you were dealing with before answering.

Daniel shrugged and bent his knees, eyebrows scrunched with a grimace, “I dunno,” He grunted, hand squeezing between his skin and the seams of the speedos, readjusting his situation in the tight confines. Some would say too tight.

“They are certainly something though…”

“Sexy? Sickening? Extremely flattering? Give me something to stroke my ego with for fucks sake,” He joked but genuinely wanted to know what your true feelings were behind that lip bite and pursed smile.

“Well they make you look massive…”

You threw that line out there for him, hoping he would bite.

“Duh, because I am massive.”

“… well,”

Your pause provoked Daniel, gasping at your insinuation as his hand immediately reached out and grabbed your jutted hips. His calloused fingertips brushing against your exposed, sensitive skin drew a high-pitched scream from your throat before catching you off guard and tickling the opposite side even harder, both watery-eyed from the uncontrollable laugher.

“I’m kidding! I’m kidding! You are! You are massive!”

You shouted loudly, palms pressed to his bare chest that was rising and falling from the dwindling laughter, curls tickling your skin as he kissed your neck softly, panting. Skin sweet from the shower you'd just taken without him, pout no longer lingering from that saga.

Daniel stifled a laugh against your ear at your proclamation, never tiring of hearing how satisfied you were with his attributes.

“I haven’t gotten any complaints so far in life so thank you for clearing that up, honey,” He sarcastically replied as you pushed him back gently, needing to get another peep at the speedos before they disappeared forever.

“They are so bloody tight, Daniel - that's why I can't stop giggling but I guess that's so everything doesn't fall out,” You reasoned, covering your blushing smile and trying not to laugh again. It was just too much, too early for you.

Daniel looked down, tugged on the waistband and glanced back up with a mischievous smirk, eyebrows wiggling as he closed the gap between the two of you again. You knew where this was going.

“Getting tighter by the second too, you know...”

Considering how tight the material was around his manhood to begin with, his voice was lot deeper than you expected in such constricting conditions. Between the seductive brown eyes practically undressing your partially clothed body and his hands roaming your waist again, reaching around to get a grip on your backside before hoisting you up on the counter, you were struggling to think of a reason to stop him.

Really, really struggling.

“Okay, big boy – simmer down. You have a press meeting in an hour so get out of the bathroom,” You ordered meekly, unconvincingly.

Daniel didn’t budge; his smirk flaring when he saw the devious glimmer in his eyes reflected back at him. He had you right where he wanted – fingertips tracing the bold 'of love and life' script inked on his clavicle forever, travelling south.

“I’m always fashionably late – you know this,” He taunted in response to your shallowed demands, peeking down and nudging forward between your thighs that he had spread with his strong hands, chuckling as he closed the inches separating you. Tantalisingly touching through thin material, breathlessly so.

“You are a walking fashion crime right now,” You retorted, pecking his puffy bottom lip and capturing the skin between your sharp teeth, assessing how far he was about to push you with limited time.

“Don’t test me, baby. Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

The gruffness in his voice strained his words as he whispered into your lips, the question tumbling down your throat along with your inaudible response. Every whine, every moan was muffled by the deep kiss he was pressing to your lips, tongues searching for one another amongst the desire that was burning within.

“We don’t have time for this,” You whispered and gently knocked Daniel back from between your thighs so you could hop down off the warm marbled counter. You were immediately met by a loud, 'noooo' protest from the man standing practically naked in front of you.

That was until you grabbed a fluffy white towel from the shelf behind him, chucked it on the ground and dropped to your knees with a smirk. You rested your palms on the sides of his muscular thighs, mind wandering until you remembered why you were down here, knees already tender but dulled by the ache between your own.

“I’m feeling particularly patriotic this morning – any idea why?”

Daniel shakily exhaled as your finger traced the white lines of the union jack, his eyes fluttering shut for a split second. He had finally realised what you meant – you didn’t have time for a quickie but the thought of having your warm lips wrapped around him had him throbbing in the tight polyester, large hand cupping your soft cheek as he gazed down into your matching lust-filled pupils.

“Want me to sing the national anthem while you suck me off?”

His crude question made you laugh as your eyes devoured what was being presented to you in a neatly sealed package. He was deliciously stiff when he sprung free, tip glistening – a whole goddamn meal served in red, white a blue. Nature’s gift.

"Go on then."

a//n – this is what you came for, right? 😂 just a little something to get my writing juices flowing again and to those new to the blog – hi! welcome to my mind lol x masterlist | askbox

[btssaysstudy]

Cheap Sunglasses || jjk

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook (BTS) x reader

Note: Inspired by cheap sunglasses by John K || do let me know if you liked it :)

Summary: Being a teaching assistant for college definitely has it monetary perks but who knew it had other perks in meeting a potential significant other.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of injury (not the reader), angst, jungkook being an annoying player at times, mentions of over-exhaustion from schoolwork

“Thanks y/n!” Mingyu grinned, reaching out for a fist bump. You laughed, returning the gesture. “No problem, just doing my job.” 

“I’ll treat you for a meal soon, you can count on it! I’ll see you around!” He gave you a quick side hug before leaving the lecture hall. You got up from your seat, packing your belongings to head off for lunch. 

“y/n! Could you help me compile the outline for the chapters to read for the semester?” Your professor approached you, handing you the list of chapters that class had to read. “Sure, when do you need it by?”

“Preferably by the end of this week? No rush! As long as it’s before midterms.”

“Okay, sure!” You glanced at the list, it was the same reading list as last semester, you just had to use your own outline for this semester. You smiled, thankful that nothing much changed with the syllabus so you had less work to do as a teaching assistant.

Your professor thanked you and left the hall. “You know, one definite perk of being a TA is tutoring hot students. Mingyu was definitely hitting on you.”

“No he’s not. We’re friends, I already met him for one of my classes last semester.”

“Mm, yea don’t believe you. Anyway, let’s hurry go, I’m starving.” Sooyoung rubbed her stomach and you grabbed your bag, leaving the hall with your friends. 

One definite perk, which was not what Sooyoung said, of being a TA was that you get paid and you definitely needed the money. It was tough to juggle being a TA at first and you weren’t sure if you were cut out for it, but 2 semesters later, you’ve been a TA every semester and it’s become a part of your schedule.

“Chan-mi!” A loud bright voice called out for other friend. The three of you stopped, turning around to find the boy who was dubbed as the “sunshine” of your college.

“Yes?” Chan-mi clearly unfazed by his loudness. Hoseok grinned, saying a brief hello to you and Sooyoung. “Our club manager just texted me that we have an upcoming gig. Just a little insider info for you, you’re on the performing team.”

Chan-mi nodded her head with a short laugh, “He texted me too actually.”

“What?! I thought i’ll be the good news bearer.” Hoseok pouted, his group approached him, patting him on the shoulder to rush him for lunch.

“I’ll see you at next practice then!” Chan-mi waved goodbye as he was being dragged away by his friends.

His friends. That group.

That group was popular and they knew it. They don’t seem to bask in it but they would slip some of the times — easily charming people to get what they need, having girls praying that they’ll become their girlfriends. It was no surprise that they have quite a list of girls they dated.

Despite the list,their reputation wasn’t that bad. They would make it clear to the girls they take out on dates — that they’re not looking to commit. You figured it was the least they could to do the poor girls who were pining for them, laying out the facts immediately.

“So what are we eating? I’m about to die any second.” Sooyoung grumbled once more.

—

“If you’d like to book my TA, I’ve sent you an email with a google sheet for you to find a slot. She’s a popular one so better book a slot asap if you need her help.” Your professor announced to the class, making you feel shy from her comment, your eyes glued to your screen as you felt the stares.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t know that you were a popular TA. You did put in the effort to help others since you were being paid after all, so, you did deserve the credit.

Throughout class, you could do your own things since you didn’t need to pay attention to the lesson. Halfway through the class, you clicked on the google sheet link to see that your upcoming week has been almost fully booked.

‘maybe i need a pay raise’ you thought to yourself, opening your own calendar to update your own schedule. Your eyes landed on a particular name, shocked that he even bothered to book a slot. 

Jeon Jungkook.

You stopped yourself from whipping your head around to find him. He was part of that group and known to be the very athletic one. You guessed you stereotyped him to be those athletes that didn’t care about studies. You felt slightly uneasy, knowing his reputation in college and the girls.

‘It’s okay, it’s just one time slot.’

Once you noted the ones who booked a time slot with you the upcoming week, you contacted each of them to settle the venue & confirm the timing.

We can meet at my place :) - Jungkook

Yea, I’m not entirely comfortable going to a stranger’s place - y/n

Relax, it was a joke. How about near your place? So you don’t have to travel so much. - Jungkook

That works fine, there’s a cafe near mine. I’ll text you the address later. - y/n

Once class ended your two friends rushed to your seat. “So how’s your schedule Ms. Popular?”

“Really busy.”

“I saw the sheet, Jeon Jungkook booked a slot with you? Perks of being a TA is definitely helping cute students.” Sooyoung giggled like a little pre-teen girl.

“You don’t even need to be a TA to get cute guys, you have so many admirers.” Chan-mi made a very true remark.

“I’ll admit, you’re not wrong. But y/n’s snagging boys of a different league.”

“Stop idolising them like they’re gods.”

“They’re looks are god-like.” Sooyoung countered.

“You’re unbelievable.”

—

“Hey,” someone tapped your shoulder, taking out your earpiece to greet Jungkook. “Hey.”

He was dressed in a typical tired college student, in grey sweats and a black hoodie. Yet, you had to admit he looked cute in them.

“Sorry, did I make you wait long?”

“Oh no, I just came early to make sure we get a good spot. Not too near the rest of the customers.”

“I see you want a little privacy.” Jungkook grinned cheekily, clearly implying something else. You raised a questioning eyebrow at him, “Sorry, just kidding.” He quickly apologised, taking the seat opposite you.

“Anyway, we can just begin immediately. Do you have any questions?”

Jungkook nodded his head, taking out his laptop. “I do actually. Quite a long list if you don’t mind.”

“Well you have me for an hour. Go ahead.” 

Throughout the 2 hours, you realised you really stereotyped him a great amount. You assumed he barely paid attention in class but he did — he even had a list of questions to ask. You honestly enjoyed helping these type of people the most, those that made their own effort to help themselves. 

“You know,” Jungkook spoke, coming back from ordering his drink. “For the past hour and a half, I gotta admit, I stereotyped you to be a super uptight and socially awkward person. Then again, having to help tutor a lot of people would need social skills as well.” 

With a chuckle, you shrugged your shoulders, “I stereotyped you too, so I guess we’re both guilty.”

Curious, Jungkook rested his weight on his arms as he leaned closer to you, “Oh really? What did you stereotype me as then?” A playful smirk clearly threatening to appear on his lips. 

“A dumb jock.” You mischievously grinned back at him, his smile dropped, clearly not expecting that answer. It felt good to bruise that ego of his, even if it was just a split second. “Since I’m asking you to tutor me, I’m not gonna argue that.” He leaned back, regaining his composure and confidence.

You could feel his entire presence exuding with confidence, though he did have something to be confident about. In fact, he had a few things to be confident about - athletically gifted, popular and handsome. Anyone would call you a liar if you said you didn’t think he was handsome. 

“If you don’t have anymore questions, we can wrap this up now.”

Jungkook nodded his head, “Thanks for helping me. Appreciate it.” He reached out his hand, offering a handshake. “A handshake?”

“Are you afraid of a little physical contact?” He teased.

Rolling your eyes, you reached out to give him a firm shake. “Glad I could help you.” He gave you a cute bunny smile, grabbing his things and leaving you behind in the cafe. You stayed for a few more minutes before heading back to your place to prepare dinner for your guests.

Cooking always seemed to make time pass by quickly because before you even realised, your friends were spamming your doorbell, rushing you to let them in. “How was he?” Sooyoung questioned the moment she entered your house. 

“I had a good day thank you.” You sarcastically replied, grabbing a cup for them. “He was alright, he actually came prepared with questions.”

“That’s surprising. I honestly thought he booked a slot just to flirt with you.” Chan-mi commented as she helped you set up the dining table. “Come on, he wouldn’t waste his time on me.”

“Why not? You’re a great catch.” Sooyoung argued.

“Pretty sure I give off the vibe of “date to settle” and not “date for the fun”. So obviously, he won’t even bother.” 

“Mm, you do have a point for that.”

“Anyway, enough about my tutees, let’s just enjoy girls night.” You raised your shot glass of soju, Sooyoung grinned excitedly, “Cheers to us”

-

As every week’s slot was released in the online sheet, Jungkook was always one of the first few to book. You couldn’t help but be surprised every time you saw his name on the schedule. 

“So you picked up the sport by accident?” You clarified again as you took another sip. Jungkook nodded his head, leaning back into his chair. “Seokjin was the one who wanted to learn it, he dragged me to the trial class and the rest was history. He takes credit for it.” He laughed, a reminiscing look on his face.

“From your stories, you guys seem like brothers.” You watched an endearing smile creep onto his face, “They really do seem like it.”

His phone started vibrating and he checked the caller ID before sighing, silencing the call. You furrowed your eyebrows together, “What’s with that annoyed look?”

Jungkook shook his head, running his fingers through his hair, “Nothing much, just someone I went out with a week ago.”

“Trouble in paradise?” You joked.

“There’s no paradise. It was just a date, nothing more to it.” He nonchalantly dismissed it. You felt a bit offended of how casual he was treating their feelings. “If you don’t want to, you don’t have to go out with them, you know? You’re just giving them false hope.”

Jungkook sat upright, “That’s not true. I clearly tell them that I don’t mind going out on a date but that’s nothing. Nothing more than a date out. So it’s on them for still going for it.”

You sighed, “But you already know these people are dating you and hoping that they’ll be the one who will change your mind about the idea of commitment.” Jungkook shrugged, “Maybe that’ll happen one day.”

Narrowing your eyes at the boy in front you, you wondered if that was what he had been secretly hoping for whenever he went out with these girls. “Do you want that to happen? Is that why you’re more than glad to go out on dates?”

He didn’t answer immediately, staring at you as if he was thinking of a reply. Clearing his throat he adjusted his sitting position, “I didn’t say that. I just said maybe it’ll happen.”

“Yea but are you hoping for it to happen?”

Jungkook casted a soft glare, “Okay enough about my love life. How about you? Aren’t you single as well?”

You leaned back, nodding your head, “Yea, what about it?”

“Well, why aren’t you attached?”

Pressing your lips into a thin line as you thought carefully of your answer. “Unlike you, I date to settle.” Jungkook jutted out his bottom lip, internalising your reply as he nodded his head in response. “Interesting. You’ll probably click well with Jimin.”

“Your friend Jimin?”

“Yea, he has the same thought as you. Always nagging at me about the same thing you just did.” Jungkook chuckled to himself, shaking his head as he recalled the countless times Jimin was talking about Jungkook’s active love life. 

“He’s right you know… Doesn’t it get lonely always meeting different people?”

There was a short pause in the conversation, Jungkook’s eyes shifting away, his gaze fixed on the table. “To be honest, yea. But at the same time it’s what keeps me from feeling lonely. Doesn’t make sense, I know.”

You smiled, “It’s cool, I kinda get it. But after our numerous study sessions together, I’m certain you deserve to be in a good relationship.”

Jungkook shrugged, “Thanks but I don’t think I’m cut out for it.”

Confused, you questioned for an explanation. Jungkook’s eyes wandered around as he thought of a response. The athlete randomly took out his pair of shades. “Are the shades part of your answer or something?”

“It’s cheap.”

“Okay?” Your response sounded for confused, wondering if he was trying to change the topic. If he was, it was a very weird way.

“I buy the cheap ones because I know i’m going to lose them sooner or later. Can’t keep the good ones. That’s how I feel about my love life. Sometimes it feels like I can’t have nice things.”

“Man.” You breathed out, leaning back into your seat. “That’s a great analogy and all but don’t be so bleak. Between the two of us? You’re probably going to be first one who gets into a solid relationship.”

Jungkook chuckled, “Thanks for the faith TA. Do you have the same amount of faith in me for this module?”

You pursed your lips jokingly, “I think you’ll need more consultations for the same level of faith.” Breaking into a chuckle right after and so did Jungkook.

The popular athlete reached out his tattooed hand once again, for a handshake. By then, you were used to this gesture, chuckling as you reached across the table to shake his hands. “Tell you what, let’s take a pause on tutoring. You should meet the rest.”

“The rest as in your group?”

“Yea,” He stood up, throwing his backpack over his shoulder and stuffed his hands in his sweatpants’ pockets. You liked his laid-back look, he always wore that similar style whenever he was meeting you and you assumed it was to get comfortable enough to study. 

“Are you going to keep staring at me?” Jungkook smirked. You rolled your eyes, standing up to get your bag. “Come on, don’t be so mean to me.” He playfully pouted and he looked cute. You felt yourself feel shy just from that, “I am not.”

“Yes you are, you always mock me or insult me. Where’s my compliment?”

You pursed your lips, bringing your finger to your lips as you pretended to ponder. “You’re doing well with this class.” 

Unsatisfied, he grumbled, “That’s not a compliment.”

“Of course it is.” You grinned cheekily at him, patting his shoulders. “But alright, you look cute in sweats.” Even though you clearly sounded nonchalant, your heart was racing from admitting that and you hoped that your face wasn’t getting hot. You kept your composure, and made the first move to leave the cafe. 

You realised that you didn’t know where you were going to meet his friends, “Oh yea, where are we going?” You turned around to see Jungkook still standing in place. He cleared his throat and adjust his bag strap. “R-Right, just follow me.”

You didn’t want to tease him further but you clearly saw a pink hue on his cheeks. “Cute.” You muttered to yourself as he led the way.

—

“You want a snack? My treat, for all the tutoring you’ve been giving me.” 

“Jungkook, you don’t have to—“

“Okay I’ll get you your usual.” He winked at you before heading off to the counter. You smiled to yourself, watching his figure walk away. You continued on your own work as you waited for him to come back. 

Jungkook happily came back as if he won a prize. “Guess who just got free cake? We did!” Jungkook cheered, pushing his stuff aside to make way for the food. “Free cake? Why?”

“So the lady who we always see here apparently owns this place. She’s at the counter today and she randomly gave me this cake for us to celebrate Valentine’s Day.”

Confused, you looked at your calendar. “Oh, it’s Valentine’s Day.” “yea it is, didn’t you know?” “Clearly didn’t.” You shrugged, “But you should’ve told her we’re not together. I feel bad for the free cake.”

“No no, you should feel flattered she called us a cute couple. It means you’re cute.” Jungkook’s body froze for a moment realizing what he had just said. You laughed, “Yea right. Good joke, kook.” 

Jungkook frowned, “I’m not joking. I think you’re cute.”

You pointed your pen in his direction, “You know, when I was young I heard that cute meant adorable but ugly.”

“That’s obviously not what I mean. You’re not ugly, that’s for sure.” Jungkook argued without hesitation. You felt flustered this time, retracting your pen. “T-Thanks, I guess.”

The two of you not only spend weekly 2h sessions together, but also became “study buddies”. Jungkook was unsurprisingly super concentrated whenever he started studying. You realised it was his character to always give it his all even if it was something he wasn’t too fond of — like studying. You also noticed his eyebrows would furrow as he tried to comprehend the materials, or sigh and scold himself whenever he found himself stuck. 

He had a lot of endearing habits while studying, you couldn’t help but smile every time you noticed it. 

“It’s Valentine’s Day, why aren’t you on a date today?”

“Because we arranged a study session today.” Jungkook answered as if it was so obvious. 

“It’s just one day of not studying, you could’ve just told me. Plus, I’m sure many girls were hinting you to ask them out.”

“You’re not wrong about that.” He smugly answered and it made you feel a tinge of jealousy that Jungkook saw these girls as “date potential” while you were just his “study buddy”. “Tone down your ego—“

“But I’d rather study with you than go out on a date.”

You found yourself speechless, not knowing how you should be replying to that. Sensing that you were lost for words, Jungkook smiled, “Did I just take your breath away?”

“Shut up.” You snapped out of it, throwing your pen at him.

—

Hey y/n! Sorry i’ll be a bit late later, at the clinic so it might take a while before I’m let off! - jk

Are you sick? We can just reschedule! - y/n

No no! Just sprained my ankle during practice, that’s all! - jk

that’s all?! you’re not traveling today. what’s ur address? i can go over instead - y/n

You bit your lip, wondering if you were overstepping by insisting that and quickly sent another text.

if you’re alright w that of course - y/n

sure i just didn’t want to suggest it in case you weren’t, i’ll text u my address in a bit! - jk

On your way to his place, you felt nervous but you shrugged it off, blaming it on your usual ‘first house visit jitters’ — just like any other time you visited a place for the first time. Or so you told yourself. You ignored that feeling as you rang the doorbell, waiting for the injured athlete to answer the door.

“Hey.” Jungkook greeted you with a smile. You took a good look at his casted ankle, his weight resting on his crutch. A wince crept on your face, “Ouch, looks bad.” 

“Thank you for asking, I feel fine.” 

You stepped in, eyes taking your time to wander around his place. It was cozy, not cluttered as you had assumed. Jungkook pointed to the table placed by the window, well-lit for a good place to study or to wind down and have a meal. “Nice place.”

“Thanks. Didn’t have much time to tidy up the place before you came.”

“It’s alright, looks neat to me.” Your eyes glanced back down to his ankle, “Are you sure you want to have this session today? I feel like you should be resting—“

“You’re already here. I can take a little revision. Don’t underestimate me.” He teased, gently shoving your shoulder. With a light laugh, you nodded and sat down at the table. You watched Jungkook as he tried to find a comfortable position for himself, especially with his injury. Dropping his crutch on the floor, he settled down quickly to begin the session.

“So how do I know which case to use?” 

“It depends on the scenario prof sets for finals. Just a tip, prof loves answers that argues both sides. So, it’s best if you argue with both cases but conclude with which is more relevant or stronger for the scenario.”

Jungkook nodded his head, his bottom lip jutted out once again as he took down your response in his notes. “Thanks, I’m glad I started consultations with you since the beginning of the semester. I would be drowning will all these laws and cases if I didn’t.”

“I’m sure you would’ve managed fine. Your friends are managing well too. Jimin’s pretty good with this module.” You made an off-handed comment about Jimin as you started to pack up your belongings. You failed to catch the slight furrow in his eyebrows and that irritated twitch in the corner of his lip at the mention of Jimin. He knew you two would match well, which he should be happy for Jimin, but instead, he felt annoyed that Jimin was having consultations with you.

He couldn’t help but ask, “He meets you too?”

“Oh yea,” You nodded, your eyes still not meeting his as you scrolled through your schedule, “He meets me lesser than you though, just once a week.”

Just once a week. He repeated your reply. That was enough to get close to you. Hell, he meets you three times a week almost every week. One would question if he really needed that many consultations a week. Jungkook would argue against that, defending that he needed it. But deep down inside, he knew he was lying. 

You thought the same. Chan-mi and Sooyoung would make remarks on why Jungkook needed three sessions a week, hinting that he just wanted to find excuses to meet you. You would deny it every time, saying that he would always come prepared for each session with questions, proving that he really took those sessions seriously. But just like Jungkook, you too had a feeling that it wasn’t true. 

“Anyway, hope your ankle gets better soon. I better give you time to rest.” You checked the time on your phone. Jungkook did the same time, quick to respond, “Do you want to stay for dinner? I’m going to be ordering delivery anyway. You know... With my ankle. You could have dinner before you leave.” He shrugged his shoulders, trying to be casual about it. Jungkook wasn’t sure what was making him particularly nervous to suggest that. He normally wasn’t nervous with his dates. Why was he nervous around you when it was not even a date to begin with?

You contemplated, imagining your schedule in your mind. The pause made him grow nervous, “You don’t have to—“

“I’m down for dinner. My schedule’s not too busy tonight.” You smiled, settling your bag down back on the chair. Jungkook returned an eager grin. “My treat. For coming all the way here to tutor me.”

“Enough with the treats—“

“No negotiations on this one. I really owe you for traveling here, especially on such a last minute notice.” Jungkook shook his head, scrolling through the list of possible food options.

“Alright, thanks kook.” 

That nickname made his lips tug upwards as he tried to fight the smile. “No problem. What do you want to have?”

—

Dinner didn’t take long to arrive, you helped him collect the delivery and set it out on the coffee table. Jungkook had convinced you to watch a movie with him while waiting for dinner. Sinking yourself back onto the couch, the two of you happily enjoyed dinner while watching the movie he had chosen. 

“That’s cute.” You commented as the credits rolled. The movie was a short light one and it helped the both of you de-stress from the upcoming finals season. You really needed that self-care. 

“Thanks for the dinner and movie. I honestly needed it. Haven’t had much time to wind down lately.” 

“Too busy with your consultations?” 

You nodded your head, letting out a long sigh. “Yea, don’t get me wrong. It’s rewarding helping others, especially with the pay. But it’s just during this killer period that makes me regret it.”

Jungkook frowned, sitting upright, “I’m sorry I keep booking you.”

You chuckled, “Don’t be sorry. That is my job anyway. Plus, you’re always prepared for the sessions. I hate sessions when they don’t even know why they booked it. Drives me mad.”

Jungkook hummed, agreeing with you. “That must suck.”

“Yea,” your eyes trailed back down to his ankle once again. “What happened with your ankle anyway?”

“Training today. It’s been tough as well for me. Coach has been increasing the intensity and we don’t really get enough rest with studies as well. I wasn’t in the greatest condition today so I slipped.” 

“Yikes. Hope it heals fast though.” You smiled cheekily, “Do I get to sign it?”

Jungkook laughed, “That’s so childish. No one signs casts anymore.”

“Please? I’ve never done it before!” You pouted, doing your best to convince him to let you vandalize his cast. You didn’t need to do much to convince him, he was willing to give in pretty much from the first time you brought it up. “A-Alright. Just don’t draw a dick or something.”

You hummed, feigning consideration. “I wasn’t planning to but now that you mentioned it...”

He glared, grabbing his throw pillow to toss it at your face. “Don’t you dare.”

“I was kidding.” You laughed, rushing to the table to grab a pen, sitting back down close to him to draw on his cast. 

Don’t flunk my module.

“Done!” You added an “A+” next to it, willing yourself to not draw a heart which you almost did. You pulled away from the cast, looking at your work proudly. Jungkook snorted, “Don’t flunk my module? I won’t. Definitely not after all our sessions together.”

“You better.” You turned to look at him, suddenly aware of how close your faces were next to each other. You watched his gaze drop to your lips before flickering up to meet yours, “May I...?”

You nodded slightly, overcome by the adrenaline and fluttery feeling that was consuming you. You both leaned in, gently kissing each other, making sure you don’t put so much weight against him to avoid hurting his injury. Jungkook’s hand found your waist as he pulled you in, the other cupping your cheek. With your arms snaking around his neck, you both deepened the kiss.

Something in you snapped and made you pull away abruptly. “I-I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have done that.” You quickly got up to take your belongings.

“W-Wait, what do you mean—“ Jungkook called after you, struggling to get up fast with his crutch.

“You’re just going to end whatever we’ll have if we try. We’re looking for different things remember?” You rubbed the nape of your neck, “L-Look, could we just pretend this didn’t happen? I don’t want anything to be awkward between us.”

“W-Wait but...” Jungkook sighed, noting how resolute you were with your suggestion. “If that’s what you want.”

“Thanks Jungkook... Anyway, I should probably go. Get well soon.” You shifted your bag on your shoulder and sent yourself out the door.

After that incident, your schedule you had planned went down the drain. Your brain was foggy and your focus out the window the entire night as you kept thinking about that kiss. How it felt and how happy you felt. But you also reminded yourself that Jungkook was not looking to settle and you didn’t want to put yourself through that. 

You just hoped things would be the same after that day.

—

I’m guessing the usual cafe? :) - jk

Where else would we go? - y/n

Maybe my place? - jk

Good try - y/n

Worth a shot - jk

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself every time you conversed with him. Your usual 2h slot with him would drag on if you didn’t have anything that day. It wouldn’t drag on because of questions, you two would just be talking and enjoying each other’s presence. Ever since you met his friends, you met him more outside your 2h slot with him. Though, it was always off-campus. 

The incident at his place was as if it didn’t even happen. As if it was just a wet dream of Jungkook. You were thankful he stuck to the agreement and acted as if nothing happened. However, a part of you felt that it was the wrong move. 

You look great today btw - jk

But that doesn’t mean you look bad on other days - jk

Just extra great today - jk

Feeling that familiar fluttery feeling in your heart, you chose to ignore the message, promptly closing your chat. You reminded yourself about their reputation with relationships, they weren’t into a serious commitment. You didn’t want to waste your own time either. For some reason you could feel someone staring at you and you could bet anyone 10 bucks that it was Jungkook. 

After that moment, class went by fast and it was finally time for lunch. “Y/n! Do you want to grab lunch sometime this week? I promised I’ll be treating.” Mingyu flashed a very charming smile that made you smile back automatically. Behind him was Sooyoung and Chan-mi approaching you. 

“You really don’t have to treat me, I’m just doing my job—“

“I insist, yn. I still owe you for carrying me on your back last semester for the other class.” He chuckled. “Come on, you pulled your own weight.” You shook your head with a laugh. You glanced at your two friends who were patiently waiting for you and possibly eagerly eavesdropping. Just as you were about to turn away, Jungkook’s group walked behind them.

You could’ve sworn that you made eye contact when you gave him a smile to which he coldly ignored, looking away and leaving the hall with his friends.

“We can go for lunch but you’re not treating me.”

Mingyu reached out to pat your shoulder, “We’ll see! I’ll get you again soon!” He winked at you and headed off. Your two giddy best friends reached out to pull you along with them. “Is that a date?”

“N-No it’s not!”

“Why are you stuttering?” Chan-mi teased, poking your sides. You took a few steps in front of them, turning around to face them as you walked backwards. “I swear it’s not a date. We’re just friends.”

“Alright, alright, now walk properly before you hurt yourself Miss-I-have-a-date-with-Mingyu.” Sooyoung turned you around by your shoulders. Just as she strongly whipped you around, your eyes met with Jungkook’s.

Your mouth opened to say hi but nothing happened when he once again, looked away, not acknowledging your presence. “Hey y/n!” Jimin happily greeted you, pulling you in for a hug. “Thanks for tutoring me yesterday.”

“No problem, just doing my job.” You grinned at him but your thoughts still on Jungkook ignoring you.

Jimin chuckled, ruffling your hair, “You’re cute when you’re humble. Anyway, see you around!” You said bye to the others, noting that Jungkook didn’t say a single word to you. It was as if you weren’t right in front of you and you felt offended.

“Did something happen between you and Jungkook?” 

“No, nothing happened.” You denied as the memory of the kiss flashed in your mind.

“Are you sure?” Chan-mi questioned and you sighed. “Sorry, can we not talk about him? Let’s just have lunch.”

You didn’t notice your two friends sharing a look before collectively agreeing to drop the topic.

—

“Hey.”

“You’re late.” You commented, staring at your screen as you continued your assignment. “Yea sorry, I was on a date with someone and it kinda over ran.”

Oh. A date with someone. “O-Oh, how did it go?”

“Pretty well.” Jungkook took a sit, taking out his laptop, ready to fire his questions. “That’s good!” you sounded happy for him. You weren’t sure if your eyes were just trying to make you feel better but it was as if Jungkook seemed disappointed with your reply, as if he was hoping for a different reaction. 

“Yea... Anyway, I don’t have much questions today so it should be a fast one. If you want, we could go get an early dinner?”

“I don’t think I can... I have quite a lot of things to do today.” 

“Oh... That’s cool.”

Moving on from the topic, you two went through the questions he had smoothly though there was something nagging at the back of your mind. Why was he so cold towards you that day? Why is he acting as if he wasn’t being such a dick towards you that day? 

“You good?”

“Hmm?” You glanced up to see genuine concerned eyes that made your heart flutter once again. “Y-Yea I’m good.”

“You sure? You seem quite out of it today. Are you unwell? Is something bothering you?”

You shook your head, getting frustrated. “Why were you ignoring me today in school?”

“W-What?” Jungkook pulled away, taken aback by your question. You sighed, “You know what I’m talking about.”

Jungkook shook his head, “I was just having a bad morning.”

“A bad morning.” You scoffed, “Right, so a bad morning would make you ignore my entire presence. I’ll take mental note of that.” Jungkook himself got annoyed, crossing his arms as he countered, “You didn’t seem to care about anyone else either when you were chatting up with Mingyu. Didn’t think my moody morning would even be noticed by you.”

You blinked a couple times, processing what he had just said. “W-What? I was just talking with him. Why are you even bringing this up?”

He didn’t answer this time, sighing as he packed his laptop in his bag. “I’m sorry, I can’t do this.” Jungkook got up and so did you. “You can’t do this? Are you jealous or something?”

“What? Of course not.” Jungkook frustratedly ruffled his hair. Not wanting to cause a scene at the cafe, you took your own stuff, chuckling dryly to yourself. “Well, you need to sort out whatever shit’s going on with you. I’m not here to guess how you’re feeling.”

“You’re not here to guess?” Jungkook whisper-yelled. “You were the one who suggested to ignore what happened. I’m here trying to keep my shit together because of that.”

“Jungkook, look. Let’s not talk about it here. Can we just drop it please?” ”Whatever.”

You walked away, not looking back to see Jungkook’s regretful look on his face.

—

Jungkook didn’t contact you after that day and you didn’t want to contact him either. Jimin, on the other hand, was trying to find out what happened between the two of you. 

“He always shuts the conversation down the moment one of us brings you up.” 

You sighed, “Nothing serious happened.”

“If that’s true, you guys wouldn’t be ignoring each other like the plague again. I had to lie to him about where I am today.”

A part of you, admittedly, would want Jungkook to reach out to you to just come clean about snapping at you the other day. You couldn’t understand how he could go on a date and then get pissed that you were talking to Mingyu. 

“You shouldn’t have lied to him.”

“It’s nothing.” Jimin shook his head, “What really happened between you two?”

Defeated, you told Jimin what happened that day at the cafe. “You two are just plain stupid. That poor boy likes you. You like him. Case solved.”

“If that’s true, he wouldn’t have gone on a date right before meeting me.”

“Yes, I agree that part’s fucked up. He just sucks at admitting his feelings to himself. Don’t worry, I’ll sort him out for you.” Jimin draped his arms around your shoulder, “you can count on me to give him a good nagging.”

“Thanks Jimin but you don’t have to do that—“

“Jimin? Y/N?”

The two of you turned around, Jimin immediately retracting his arm when you saw Jungkook standing right behind you. “Oh Kook!”

“I thought you said you’re meeting your Tinder date.”

“R-Right about that—“

“No, forget it, it’s clear who’s your Tinder date. Enjoy.” Jungkook shut him down and walked pass the both of you. Jimin sighed, “Looks like it’s time for me to fix this mess.”

“I think he’ll beat you up if you go after him. I’ll talk to him. You’re right, we need to talk.” Jimin gave you an encouraging smile, patting your shoulders, “Good luck.”

You needed that.

You hurriedly followed after him, calling out to him to stop and wait for you. It wasn’t that hard to catch up to him with his injury as well. 

Jungkook looked hurt and cold, as if he was building up his wall against you. “We weren’t on a date. Jimin didn’t want to tell you that he’s meeting me because apparently you get pissed every time you hear my name. I swear.”

“You don’t need to explain anything—“

“Yea of course I don’t, because I should just leave it to you to make wild assumptions every time some shit happens. I don’t get it. One moment, I think you may like me and the next moment you’re out on a date with someone else. Just tell me what is it and we can stop having this misunderstanding.”

Jungkook ruffled his hair, looking around the campus. “Can we talk somewhere else? And not here in public?”

You gestured with your hands, asking him to lead the way. Jungkook led you to a more secluded area, not too far away from where you bumped into him. You both couldn’t take walking together without clearing things up. 

Jungkook didn’t waste any time, immediately diving straight into it. “I do like you. Hell, there’s nothing to even doubt especially after that night. I wanted to kiss you for so long. I never admitted that to myself until that very moment. But then you said you wanted to drop everything and I thought it was just in the heat of the moment for you so I agreed. I rather be friends than back to strangers.” Jungkook breathed, taking a short pause, “But then I see you with Mingyu, with Jimin, and I know these men are your type. The ones that settle down with the right partner. The ones that don’t go on many dates. But that’s been me. So i figured you regretted it when you said that i didn’t want the same things you wanted. But fuck, i want to settle down with you. Take things slow, see where the future takes us. Three sessions with you was over the top for my studies but I did it because I love our time together. I love studying with you, going off topic and talking about other things. I love teasing you just to see your reaction because it makes me smile. I love it when you tease me back just to annoy me. You annoy me but I love it.” He sighed, looking at the floor before meeting your watery eyes.

“But I know I’m not the type of guy you’re looking for. You made it clear yourself that night when you asked to drop it. So there. That’s why I went on that date before meeting you. Because I was so nervous about seeing your face, I needed to get my mind off of you. I admit, I’m sorry for doing that because that just further proves your point about me.” He trailed off, as the realization sinks in of how he had just fucked up his own chances of being with you.

You didn’t bother interrupting him at all, your heart pounding loudly against your chest as you took in every single word he said. Your brain and heart having a civil war with each other. Not knowing what should your next move be. 

“I’m guessing silence means I’m right.” He spoke after receiving no response from you. “I’ll see you around. Take care of yourself.” He gave a pained smile as he headed off back to his place.

Your knees felt weak as you leaned back against the wall that was hiding the both of you from the others. Your hand brought up to your heart. 

What were you going to do?

With a heavy heart, you made your way back to your place. As you settled your dinner, you aimlessly browsed through the shows on Netflix as Your mind was busy thinking about Jungkook’s confession. 

Why didn’t you go after him? Why didn’t you say anything? Were you scared that it was all words? Were you scared of ruining the friendship you two had established? What was stopping you from doing what you wanted?

You knew you couldn’t leave things there. You had to do something before you regret. You liked Jungkook. A lot. You were willing to take the risk with him. Just as he was as willing to prove to you that he’s serious. 

You reached out for your phone and key, making your way out the door and to where you needed to be.

Once you had arrived, you were knocking on the door profusely, “Jungkook!” You called out.

The door opened, “W-What are you doing here—“

“I like you too. You’re wrong. I don’t regret that night. I regret saying that we should forget about it. Because i couldn’t. I didn’t. I thought about it everyday. I’m willing to take things slow with you if you’re willing. I don’t want to regret this as well.”

The smile on his face grew as you admitted your own feelings to him, Jungkook pulling you in with his free hand as the other still held on to his clutch.

“I mean it as well. I have zero intentions to play around with you. I’m serious and I’ll prove it. I’m not going to lose you, you’re not cheap sunglasses to me.”

“I trust you.” You said with a laugh, recalling his metaphor as his grin only grew wider. “You just made me a really happy man.”

“Really? I couldn’t tell with that wide grin on your face.”

“You’re annoying.” Jungkook said with no malice in his tone as he leaned in for a kiss. Both of you had been wanting to do that again ever since that incident. Your leg kicking the door shut as you pulled yourself closer to him. 

“I could get used to this.” You smiled as you pulled away. 

“Well, you should. I’m going to be kissing you for a long time.”

[lifewithdavefarts]

DaveFarts - Episode 10 “The Elevator” [Episode List] After visiting a friend’s house, Tim and the gassy-as-usual Dave take a really slow elevator together.

The Elevator

I took a quick sip of beer as our friend Adam left the living room to get another can in his fridge. What was left was a weirdly awkward silence and Dave, with his own beer, glaring at me.

“Dude,” he whispered. “It’s been a hour. I thought you were gonna tell him.”

I chose Adam as the first non-Dave bud to come out to, but it ended up being surprisingly hard to do. It’s not like Dave was forcing me or anything, or that Adam was a bad person; on the contrary, Dave was simply there with me as my emotional support in case things go south (but we both know they won’t) and Adam was, well, just Adam. Dave’s rightful reaction to me not coming out as planned didn’t bother me and as I said he wasn’t there to intimidate a confession out of me.

“Look, I don’t feel ready, okay?”

“You’ve been talking about the weather for 20 minutes.” he hissed. “What’s next? Geology?”

I chuckled. “Actually, this reminds me that they found this weird rock in South Amer-“

“I can’t believe this.”

“What’s not to believe? You take a big shovel and-“

“And I’m gonna dig my own grave if you start talking about rocks.”

I chuckled again. I know he wasn’t really mad.

Annoyed? Maybe. But mad? Nah, that’s a stretch.

He had all the rights to be annoyed though, but in the end it was my decision to make and he knew this.

We kept whispering as we heard Adam rummaging the fridge like some kind of raccoon longing for a cold drink.

“Look.” I said. “it’s late now anyway. Let’s just leave. Sorry I wasted your time.”

“Fine.” he replied. “Let’s finish our beers first at least.”

“That goes without saying.” and I took a long sip.

Truth is that I hadn’t any real reason to hide my homosexuality from Adam or any other of my buds actually. First, we’re in our 20s, we’re all mature and open-minded here. And in the end, excluding the whole fart-thing going on with Dave, they were all like him, chill guys. Adam, despite always sounding like someone who wants to have none of your shit, or anyone’s shit really, more than once proved that it’s just a facade and not-so-deep down he’s always ready to listen and back you up whenever you needed it. He did just listen to me talking about the weather for 20 minutes, so either he’s fascinated by the subject or knows I’m trying to tell him something else and is just patiently waiting.

The thought of wasting both of my buds’ time in a way or another kind of bothered me to be honest, so I was more than okay with wrapping things up and just leave, which me and Dave did mere minutes later.

“See you bro.” my bud said to Adam, standing by the door, as we went outside in the hallway, not far from the stairs and the elevator “Tim wants to talk about rocks so I’m taking him out of here before he kills you with boredom.”

“The one they dug up in Colombia?” Adam asked, much to our surprise.

“Yeah.” I answered. “They know it’s andesite but it has some interesting carvings on the surface and-“

A startled “What the fuck.” from Dave echoed in the hallway and the entire apartment building.

“What the fuck indeed.” Adam uttered, rather excitedly, completely missing the point. “This could change the archeo-history of the entire region.”

“I heard enough.” Dave said as he walked towards the elevator.

Both me and the other rock-enthusiast laughed at his reaction.

“By the way, I’m going to join you for a bit as I gotta walk the dog.” Adam remembered, reaching for a leash behind him.

“We’ll see you outside then.” Dave replied and then turned to me. “Tim, elevator, now.” he ordered.

“You sure, guys? You remember that thing is slow as shit, right?”

“We’ll be fine.” my bud said, patting my back. “I guess I’ll make Tim last longer then.” he joked.

“That only happens when you call me ‘daddy’” I joked back, as we walked towards the elevator, leaving our common friend behind.

“Rrrright.” Adam said. “I’ll get the dog while you two solve your sexual tension. See you outside.”

I pressed the button to summon the lift, Dave’s arm still around my shoulder as if he had something to show me. Truth to be told, I somehow knew where this was going.

As the panels of the door opened, we stepped into the elevator cab. I pressed the “G” on the control panel. I heard a mechanical noise and the elevator started its long, slow descent (we were at the 10th floor), after the doors closed behind us of course.

It was a cold evening and the cab wasn’t any warmer. I turned to Dave, who was wearing a dark blue hoodie and a pair of grey jeans. He looked at me with a smirk, hands in his jeans pockets; he raised his eyebrows and, without warning, a loud thunder echoed in that enclosed moving space.

The roaring fart had a slow start, with some interruptions, actually a sign for how big it was, but Dave, being an expert, quickly tamed the gassy beast and properly “tuned” the sound of the blast after a couple of seconds, keeping a consistent pitch, while also making it sound loud and deep. It felt like he was ripping one of those huge “when the girl finally leaves” farts, only, well, Dave-sized, which is always a sight to behold… hear? In this case there was no girl so he probably simply held all of his farts in to not ruin “the moment”, in case I wanted to come out back at Adam’s place (with beer acting as a bonus fuel).

A silly smile was drawn on my bro’s face as the fart kept going strong and proud, sometimes reaching some incredibly loud moments. He chuckled a bit and even winked at me when the blast made some particularly “meaty” noises, if that makes any sense. The fart was impressive on his own but Dave “interacting” with me while still masterfully passing gas was incredible as well (and, of course, hot).

The number 6 on the control panel lightened up and only in that moment I realized two things: the first being that the elevator was indeed slow as fuck; the second is that around 40 seconds passed and neither Dave nor his fart “flinched”. I was widely aroused by that and I felt the air around us getting more and more “polluted”, but not in an unbearable way actually. The blast kept echoing inside the elevator and I’m pretty sure that it could have been easily heard, albeit a bit muffled, by anyone taking the stairs.

Dave farted in my face many times, but no fart reached the length and power of this one, which is saying a lot. My bud’s butt-burps normally last around 6-12 seconds and don’t get me wrong they’re amazing, but man, maybe this one rip would have been too much to endure even for me: it simply wouldn’t stop. It’s like there was a loud engine in the elevator which couldn’t be turned off as I couldn’t hear anything else.

I was instead the opposite of turned off and teasing bastard Dave Maning knew this and, as usual, had no issue with it. At this point it was a race between Dave’s longest fart and the world’s slowest elevator.

We were now at the 3rd floor and my bud probably wanted to do a “big finale”; he was visibly pushing the blast out now, as if he wanted it to last as long as possible, a smirk still drawn on his face. He closed his eyes and the sound made it look like another fart was ripped over the sound of the previous fart, as if two audio channels in his ass somehow overlapped. The sound was of course louder than ever; the smell now, and only now, getting a bit hard to get used to. But to be honest, Dave’s skills as a sound designer alone were impressive enough.

A big part of me, mainly the one between my legs, wanted to get on my knees and plant my face in his denim ass before the fart faded out, but I knew that would have been too much even for such a chill guy like him. I’m sure he wouldn’t hate me or anything at this point but we both know there are some untold boundaries and honestly it’s better this way. I know how lucky I am to have someone like him around (farts or not).

My farting bro probably read my mind as he slowly turned around and got closer, again without affecting the fart’s quality and, being a bit taller then me, basically farted on the upper part of my hip. It almost made my entire body shake due to its power and it felt good. Now I really wanted to bend down as if I was tying my shoes but what stopped me this time was also the thought of… not surviving. I was familiar with Dave’s farts but this was absurdly powerful even for him.

And finally, as Dave resumed his previous position, again looking at me, the fart stopped, followed by my friend letting out a relieved whistle, and then an immature cackle.

Not even 2 seconds after that the elevator reached its destination, stopping as well. I jokingly clapped my hand and shook my head in disbelief. “Bravo!” I said, as if I just watched some fancy stage play.

Dave simply smiled and turned his back at me to face the exit, as we both waited for the just-as-slow panel doors to open.

“At least not all the time here was wasted.” he laughed.

“Bro, we had a beer together. That’s never a waste of time for me.” I replied.

“Wow. Rocks, gay and cringe. You got it all, Tim!” he replied.

We both laughed at me being needlessly cheesy and finally stepped out of that gas chamber. Someone stepped in the cab as we left it and the doors closed, leaving us in the hallway at the ground floor. We heard muffled coughing noises almost immediately and we laughed again, as we knew the disgusting reason. Poor, innocent soul.

“Ok but bro” Dave then said, looking a bit more serious. “You gotta do it someday. Trust me you can trust all of us.”

“I know man.” I replied, as we walked towards the exit “Next time I meet Adam, doesn’t matter where and when, I’m gonna tell him that I’m gay.”

My voice echoed in the building and through the stairs, but I didn’t care.

“You’re… gay?”

Okay, I cared.

We both turned around, puzzled.

It was Adam, right behind us (with this dog on leash), descending one last set of stairs before ending up in front of us. Somehow he’s been slower than the elevator, which both me and Dave found hilarious but I also had other emotions going on that moment.

Dave patted my shoulder encouragingly and stepped back: it was my time to shine.

“Yep.” I simply said. “I wanted to tell you hours ago but I didn’t have the guts to do it.”

Adam just stared at me with a confused expression.

I didn’t feel as nervous as I anticipated. “Yes, Dave knows it…” I quickly added, noticing him staring at my other straight bud. “And I asked him to not tell anyone.”

A moment of silence followed and those always feel like they last hours.

“I mean you two clearly have been dating each other for years” Adam joked. “So it’s no surprise, really.”

“WHAT WE HAVE IS SPECIAL!” Dave shouted, jokingly faking a desperate reaction.

I simply laughed and before I could process how well everything was going I felt Adam doing something very unusual for him: he hugged me.

“I’m glad you told me, man.” he simply said. “You know you can count on us.”

I know times have changed and all but this felt like a victory. Every time I’m gonna come out to a friend of mine it’s one step closer to the peak of a mountain and once at the top I will finally-

“Fuck, I forgot my phone.” Adam said, patting his pockets. “I’ll just take the elevato-“

“NOOO!” both me and Dave screamed, knowing that it was still a deadly gas chamber.

Adam simply replied with an annoyed expression and went for the stairs, the dog just behind him.

“Oh hey by the way.” I asked. “What took you so long? You said the elevator was slow but somehow we made it here before you.”

“Don’t underestimate me.” he replied. “It’s just that I heard some weird noises echoing through the stairs and me and another guy tried to understand what it was.”

Dave tried to not to burst into laughter, while I simply smiled like an idiot. Adam and his dog then went up the stairs and left us in silence, not until my gassy bro decided to break it the way he usually does.

A loud fart erupted and echoed through the building, only lasting around 4 seconds this time.

“There it is again!” we heard Adam say, a couple floors above us.

Me and Dave shared an amused look and went outside trying to not laugh like immature idiots. I felt the cold weather all over me, which was relieving considering the gas trap I’ve been trapped into only minutes earlier.

Despite a slow, yet really entertaining elevator ride, and my awkwardness, no time went wasted today.

“I’m proud of you, bro.” Dave said, this time serious, but still smiling.

“Wow.” I replied. “Straight and cringe. You got it all, Dave.” and winked at him.

“Don’t get too cocky now, rock nerd.”

I was rock-hard, to be more precise that’s for sure, but that was a detail I’d take care of later, perhaps thinking back of that absurd elevator ride. Whenever I’m with Dave, I’ll make sure we’re never taking the stairs again.

End of Episode 10

[suganovakawa]

A scenario of reader getting jealous when a girl try’s to shoot her shot with bokuto? ❤️

AHHHHH YES jealous scenarios are MUAH and i get to write about kou ??? ugh yes i do b blessed doe

𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 .

PAIRINGS : koutarou bokuto x fem! reader

GENRE : fluff , slight comedy

SYNOPSIS : you’ve been wanting to confess your feelings to the happy-go-lucky ace of fukurodani for a while , but every time the opportunity presents itself , you chicken out . you’ve gotten motivation to try again once more — but all of a sudden you overhear someone else wanting to confess to bokuto ? not on your watch !

word count : 2.4k

— check out my masterlist !!

a / n : WOOOOOOO i love bokuto unconditionally; needless to say, this was much much much fun to write!

⠀you were a hopeless mess.

⠀yet again, you failed to do the one, the one thing you've been wanting to do for the entire school year. you slumped away in shame as bokuto found his way back to akaashi, the two males soon walking away to volleyball practice.

⠀today was supposed to be the day, dammit!

⠀you were finally going to confess your feelings to him!

⠀everything went so smoothly until you chickened out; today was the perfect day to tell koutarou how you felt about him. the plan you set up for yourself was perfect - hook, line and sinker. the kicker was, you pulled too early and didn't get a catch. your eyes had closed once you were outside of fukurodani, your hands making way to your face as you muffled your yell of disappointment.

⠀your friends were gonna get a kick out of this one tomorrow.

⠀they placed a bet on this time today, all of them fed up of you chickening out countless of times. oh, the amount of yen you owed them tomorrow. they thought for sure that with money on the line, you'd step into shape and gather the guts to make the confession quick. it didn't matter if kou accepted your feelings or not - god, you really hoped he would - you just needed to finally step up and do it already.

⠀you felt kinda stupid, just standing in front of your school after hours. you had no reason to be there - none of the teachers were able to stay after school today, so you couldn't just camp out in a classroom and wait for a second wind to confess. at least, try to confess.

⠀koutarou bokuto was literally the most easy going person anyone could ever meet. the positive energy levels he possessed were through the roof; it was contagious, too - he hardly ever failed to make anyone smile, regardless of who they were, and how they were previously feeling. at least, that's how you managed to fall for the ace of fukurodani - you happened to bump into him after one of the worst days in history, and all it took to make you smile again was a couple of jokes and a "HEY HEY HEY" before he patted you on the shoulder and ran off for practice.

⠀your eyes caught a glimpse of long hair sneaking by you, a box of chocolates in her hand as she entered the school stealthily. if you hadn't noticed her eye from the corner of your eye, you probably wouldn't have noticed her creeping by you. your lips pressed together as she disappeared into the school, and something didn't feel right.

⠀chocolate was associated with love.

⠀with valentine's day.

⠀as a stress reliever.

⠀as a way to win someone over.

⠀was she going to confess to someone?

⠀your e/c eyes widened as it hit, she was going to confess to someone! she clearly had more guts than you; she'd probably end up doing it. but who was she going to confess to? there were hardly any others at school after hours today, besides the volleyball team.

⠀your stomach dropped. was she going to confess to someone on the volleyball team?

⠀even worse - was she going to confess to bokuto?

⠀oh no.

⠀no no no no no.

⠀before you could start thinking rationally, your worries got to you as you turned, your legs moving into a nervous jog as you brought yourself back inside of fukurodani. this was your big break, you couldn't let that happen. you were the one who was going to confess to bokuto, not anyone else! your jogging soon turned to sprinting, your mind figuring out where that girl was, and how you were either going to stop her, or find koutarou first.

⠀you then stopped abruptly. what the hell were you gonna do next?

⠀what, were you going to confess your feelings for him, or something?

⠀your second wind was already dying down, and you hadn't even stood face to face with bokuto yet. throwing in the towel already seemed like the easier option, to let that girl confess to your beloved owl boy and watch them have their happy ending.

⠀"y/n?" your thoughts paused as you turned around to see akaashi himself, looking at you quizically as you just stood in the middle of the hallway. "why are you still here? practice just ended."

⠀"it did?" were you really in a daze outside for that long you didn't even realize how much time passed? "oh! i, uhm, forgot something in a classroom. i just came back quickly to get it, that's all." you looked around for a few seconds before turning back to keiji once more. "where's bokuto? he's usually with you, right?"

⠀"oh, him." he chuckled, bringing a hand up to support the bag over his shoulders. "i promised him i'd wait outside; he's currently with some girl, she wanted to talk to him right after practice. knowing him, he'll probably be out pretty quickly. he'll reject her as he rejects everyone else."

⠀"reject?" your heart sunk at the word alone. "you mean, she's confessing to him right now?"

⠀"oh, yeah. she actually spoke to me earlier today, wanted to make sure that bokuto was available after practice to confess. i was the one who recommended she give him chocolates, too." he stopped speaking for a few moments, before a small smile took over his lips at the very obvious sight of your distress. "bokuto and that girl are right in front of the gym, just down the hall - in front of the main doors. in case you're here for... other purposes."

⠀your mind went blank. "huh?"

⠀"it's not my place to pry, so that's all i have to really say." his usually stoic eyes held a glint of something mischievous as he shrugged. "in my honest opinion, y/n - you have a much better chance of confessing than she does. just saying." he waved to you before walking away. "good luck, now."

⠀that second wind blew you over the moment keiji disappeared outside of the school. you had to get there, to koutarou. now.

⠀you were a bit flustered that akaashi read you like a book, but it worked in your favor as your legs gained the momentum to sprint to their location, your breath caught in your throat as you hid behind a set of lockers, right near where you overheard a mostly one-sided conversation going on.

⠀"i really hope you like these chocolates, bokuto! i bought them especially for you, i heard these ones are your favorites!"

⠀"you don't say, huh? well, thank you very much!"

⠀"and there's something else i wanted to tell you, too! i-if you'd let me, that is."

⠀your breathing shortened as a whole. this was it. she was going to do it.

⠀"oh, sure! just be quick though, akaashi is waiting for me outside."

⠀"i-i've liked you for a while, bokuto! a lot!"

⠀well that was certainly quick. you felt your heart drop in your stomach as she confessed so hastily, you didn't even realize it was a confession until it registered in your head moments later. defeat hung in the air as you began to turn and flee, like you always do, but not before koutarou had a chance to reply.

⠀"aww, i like you too, y'know! you're a great friend, and very thoughtful to have bought me these chocolates! i'm glad we're friends!"

⠀you suppressed an uneasy cough at his reply. that was friendzoning, right?

⠀"o-oh, yeah. f-friends! yeah, we're great friends, bokuto..." your chest clenched painfully at the dejection in her voice. you felt kinda sorry for her, in a way. giving her a pat on the back sounded like a magnificent option. "i-i'll see you around, i guess... good ol' friend of mine."

⠀your face contorted into a cringe before pressing your back against the locker, watching with a held breath as she ran away, not noticing your cheap hiding spot as she left the school in a hurry. the butterflies in your stomach were acting up more than usual; you had to get out of there.

⠀"i think the coast is clear..." lifting yourself from the lockers, you took a deep breath, only to bump into a certain someone as he turned the corner. you suppressed a scream as koutarou looked down at you with his big friendly grin - that same grin that probably friendzoned that poor girl. "b-bokuto! funny i've run into you today!"

⠀"y/n! hello!" his eyes lit up at the sound of your voice. "what are you doing here, after school? no teachers are here today."

⠀"ah, yeah, i know..." bringing a hand awkwardly to the back of your neck, your own eyes drifted to look at your feet. "actually, i-i was... looking for you. but i see you're busy, so please don't let me bother-"

⠀"oh no, you weren't bothering me at all!" he interrupted you a little too eagerly, causing your head to snap upwards and look at him in astonishment. you gasped in horror as he handed you the same box of chocolates he was gifted not too long ago. "care for these? they're not actually my favorite."

⠀"they... aren't?" you hesitated on taking the box - after all, they were bought for him, not you. "but didn't someone buy them for you, bokuto?"

⠀"yeah, but it came with a confession. i feel kinda bad, eating the chocolates from someone who i rejected." he laughed it off, shaking his head as he pushed the box into your hands once more. "c'mon, i won't tell anyone, so don't feel bad."

⠀"thanks, i guess...?" against your better judgement, you took the chocolates from kou and held them in your arms loosely. this was awkward. "i should get going now, i'll see you around?"

⠀"but y/n, thought you said you were looking for me? what is it you need?" your face flushed as the third year's lips formed into a pout, his head tilted slightly as he looked at you confusedly. "i can just text akaashi if it's too long, i'm sure he won't mind!"

⠀"w-well, i..." every part of your body was yelling at you to run. escape. flee. anything to get way from the current situation. this was just setting yourself up for utter failure. you'd much rather lose a yen bet than have koutarou bokuto reject you. "it's nothing too important, i assure you!"

⠀"it's important enough to have made you wait until after school to tell me, y'know." a nervous lump caught in your throat as he narrowed his golden eyes.

⠀damn, he got you there.

⠀"y-you're right about that..." you hesitated, the confession just bubbling in the back of your throat, waiting to explode. this was now or never. and you chose now. "i... i wanted to confess to you. i like you, bokuto. i like like you. a lot, actually. i have for a while, i've just been too shy to say anything until now. but after hearing your run in with the other girl, i understand if we're just going to be friends! totally, absolutely fine." your hid your tomato of a face downwards after spitting everything out in one go, your stomach spinning a mile a minute but a ton of bricks sliding off of your shoulders at the same time. at least you didn't owe your friends money now, right?

⠀"aww, i like you too, y/n!"

⠀your eyes met kou's, your embrace around the second-hand gift tightening. "haha, as friends, right?"

⠀"what? no. i like like you too, y/n."

⠀WHAT?

⠀you didn't even catch onto his obvious reply as he pulled you into a hug, his arms wrapping around you securely as he let out a laugh. "i've liked you for a while too, y/n!" he exclaimed jovially. "i didn't want to confess to you either, i always assumed you didn't like me in that way."

⠀"are you kidding? literally almost everyone likes you in that way! i certainly am no different." you could hear your heart beating in your ears as you gathered enough self control to hug him back just as tightly instead of just screaming out of pure shock.

⠀"well, i always assumed you weren't part of that 'almost'. it still feels like a dream that you are." he pulled away from the hug, but kept you in his arms. the feeling of it was entirely surreal. "i've always wanted you to be the one to confess to me, so i would reject every other confession in my way. after so many confessions, though, i nearly gave up." he grinned goofily. "but i didn't, and look at what my luck gave me! you!"

⠀"bokuto-"

⠀"it's koutarou to you now, missy." kou leaned down and left a kiss on your forehead to seal the deal. "i'm so happy right now, y/n! this is awesome! i'm gonna take you out this weekend, so count on it!"

⠀"could you please hurry up already? i've been waiting for twenty minutes now." you squeaked as a displeased keiji appeared behind you and bokuto, his arms impatiently crossed. once he saw you, though, he smiled. "ah, i see. looks like luck was on your side after all, y/n."

⠀"akaashi!" you paused for a second, looking down at the chocolates in your possession before bringing your eyes back to him. "i thought you said you recommended koutarou's favorites to her?"

⠀"oh, that. i lied." he chuckled. "if you really know bokuto, you'd know that he doesn't have favorites."

⠀you looked to kou, who nodded his head in agreement.

⠀"anyways, if you two are just going to stay here and hug in the middle of the hallway for another twenty minutes, i'll see myself home." keiji waved before placing his hands in his pockets. "i'll see you two tomorrow." you tried waving goodbye to the setter as he walked off, but you were abruptly pulled into another embrace.

⠀"hugging for another twenty minutes? that sounds wonderful!" bokuto smiled widely as he held you in his arms. "but maybe we shouldn't be doing that in school. i'll walk you home, y/n! i can give you a goodbye kiss from there."

⠀"thank you, koutarou!" a happy blush colored your cheeks nicely as he stepped back from the hug, only to stand at your side and lock fingers with you, leading you outside. a kiss? oh how you were so looking forward to that. you nibbled on your own bottom lip excitedly as the ace of hearts threw you into a random conversation about volleyball; you didn't know much about the sport, but with how much koutarou had to say on the subject, you were able to just listen to his voice and enjoy your time together walking home.

⠀man, you really were a hopeless mess.

taglist : @yams046

ask if you’d like to be part of my gen taglist! and don’t be afraid to make any specifications, either.

[princeanxious]

The Royal Librarian- Chapter 1

Chapter 1- “The Road to Perfection is Destructive.”

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Ships: Future analogical, future sidelines royality, sidelines established dukeceit, background remile

Word Count: a little over 3k

Warnings For This Chapter: Virgil’s got anxiety and is a bit self depricating, brief mentions of panic attacks, Virgil stays up and works himself for so much longer and harder than is healthy for a normal person in one session, boi highkey overthinks a ton when he’s not occupied. Don’t work yourself for 24 hours straight like Virge does, it’s not good for you.

Minor notes on Virgil’s mental state in this fic: Virgil has ADHD(as reflected by my own life experience) that shows up in different ways here and there, and he suffers from RSD(Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria) which drives Virgil’s need to be perfect or fail till he damn near collapses from exhaustion, which also just feeds into his chronic anxiety. Thats all for now!

Chapter one(you are here!)|Chapter two(coming soon!)

Bonus stuff:

-the Rough Library Layout

[[MORE]]

Quiet. Such a word was practically synonymous with Virgil’s existence. The young adult practically grew up in silence, sought quiet spaces out like a moth drawn to a flame. And like a deer spooked by a snapping branch, he often fled from loud groups larger than three. He had been a quiet child, content to lose himself in any book he could get his hands on, reading for hours in any quiet atmosphere he could find. Alone, and content because of it.

So it was really no surprise he picked up a local library apprenticeship when he’d turned fifteen, and was a well-versed and well-read librarian by age nineteen. He had his lifelong friend Patton to thank for making him apply alongside hundreds of others to the opening position of the Royal Astra Family’s castle Librarian position, a year later. And, to be fair? He’d only applied because he’d been sure his resume would never have been seen, let alone selected, if only to simply placate his best friend’s excited begging.

He didn’t account for Patton’s connections as the Royal Head Cook to shift that margine of possibility to reach at least being seen. Though Patton chalked it up to the fact that he’d always talked about Virgil around the royal family anyway, long before the position had needed a replacement. It seemed to be just Virgil’s luck that ‘Virgil’ just happened to be a very uncommon name.

The panic attack that followed after he received a letter that his resume had been selected alongside a select few others for further evaluation had been a rough one. Still, he held out hope that his perceived inexperienced youth would save him, the stress and responsibility of such a serious job couldn’t be trusted with some ambitious kid like him, could it?

And, besides, it’s not like Patton’s constant praises carried that much weight, right? That's just how Patton was, a personified ball of sunshine! It was why Virgil was never surprised to hear Patton mention the royal family and staff by name on accident, or mention a silly story involving them in private, he’d clearly become close to them as the Head Cook. Though, the more he thought about it, he realized that.. Well, it’s not like the royal family had known Patton as long as Virgil had. Patton could be too trusting, and tried to see good in everyone, and well, perhaps the royal family trusted his judge of character over just simple skills. And wasn’t it just peachy that Virgil was lifelong best friends with said ball of personified sunshine? (Not that he’d ever trade their friendship for the world, never. It was just Virgil’s problem that he could never seem to tell Patton no, huh?)

Eventually, a nerve wracking week passed before Virgil finally had his answer in the form of an acceptance letter hand-delivered and an accompanying uniform and granted permissions to traverse and move into the castle grounds, all ordered and signed by King Thomas himself.

Apparently, his suspicions over Patton’s influence had indeed won out.

Three days later, Virgil finds himself silently saying goodbye to the home he’d made on his own, not as terribly forlorn over the loss as he thought he’d be. The small cottage he’d been renting didn’t feel much like home to him, anyway, not like a library did. Still, there was a longing to hide from the large change crashing into his life, and thrice he’d hid under his covers and cursed his weak will against Patton’s puppy eye’d pout. Eventually though, he’d talked himself out of his panicked haze, just in time for his first shift the following day.

“I can’t believe I let Pat talk me into this.” The ravenette grumbled as he leaned to the side. Using his weight and momentum to shift the sliding ladder he was perched on, he slid closer to the next book he’d been reaching for.

“Become the castle’s new Librarian! It’ll be fun, he said! It’ll help sooth my anxiety to work with even more books and even less people, he said, the head cook who works with at least 20 other staff each hour to maintain a steady meal plan for the entire castle staff daily!” The little librarian huffed to himself, resignation seeping out with each controlled breath.

His first day hadn’t been an easy one, and though he hadn’t expected it to go smoothly, he certainly hadn’t expected it to become such a mess. It wasn’t his first time working as a librarian, but leave it to good ol’ Virgil to let life make his days as eventful as possible!

From the moment he woke to the time he had his lunch break, not that he would actually willingly take a break nor need one yet, the day had been.. busy, to put it lightly.

It’d been storming when he woke, and though he was on time to get ready and leave, he’d only realized that his umbrella had broken the month prior. It had left him to make a twenty minute dash in the pouring rain when he found no other options.

He was plenty grateful for a bathroom stationed just inside of the library building entrance, where he hurriedly rushed inside to change out of his soaked attire. He’d been smart enough to pack away his official Royal Librarian uniform into a water resistant bag with a few additional dry essentials, and let his common clothes get soaked instead.

In a short six and a half minutes, Virgil was changed and mostly dry, though there was little he could do about his damp hair aside from comb his fingers through it. With his wet clothes packed away, he made it into the library on time to begin his first very long shift.

He’d already been sworn into secrecy when it came to occasionally dealing with the royal family’s history and artifacts in the future, and with his first and hopefully one of very few ever meetings with King Thomas out of the way, he was officially the new Royal Librarian. And now, also the only. As he was told in no certain terms that the last had retired and fucked off into obscurity before anyone had realized that the library had been left in disorganized chaos.

The old coot had apparently made his own system for everything, and hadn't bothered to write any of it down. From sorting sections to assigning books to genres, none if it clear and often very, very unorganized.

Virgil’s first big task was to comb through the entire damn building and use a new system, one that made sense. He was to reorganize every book and every section, using the appropriate genres and sorting. This way the royal family could actually functionally use the library and not waste time sorting through chaos.

This was where Virgil found himself three hours later, on the verge of a minor mental breakdown as he’d just barely sorted an eighth of the books on the main library floor into the Dewey Decimal system.

He’d had plenty of empty tables at the beginning of his journey, and right now every single one had some few stacks of books on each, labeled accordingly. Aside from his muffled ranting and the pattering of rain, the library was relatively silent.

It was odd, being alone in such a gigantic library. It almost reminded him of home.

He paused for a brief moment, having set down the final few books taken from the bookshelf he’d been working on. He’d gone through just one row of 6 bookshelves, and had 7 rows left to go, and that was just barely counting putting books back in the previous shelves as he went. A whine left him as he realized just how long this project was going to take.

“Fucking fuck.”

Somewhere between the second row and the third, Patton had stopped by to check in on Virgil. He found him hard at work sorting the fiction section on the left side of the building, tables half forgotten as Virgil attached unobtrusive non-damaging number labels to each and every book. Stacks of books lay carefully placed on the floor against each shelf, seperated by label and lack of label.

“You already look so at home, Virge!” The head cook whisper-shouted, though the sentiment was not necessary as the only other being in the library was the librarian himself.

“Yeah yeah, hush you. I’m a bit too swamped for ‘I told you so’s at the moment. So, what's up?” Glancing up at the taller man, Virgil briefly noted a small package wrapped in cloth was held in his hands.

“Can you spare a minute to eat?” Patton giggled, but Virgil knew better. He’d known Patton since they were kids, it wasn’t a question. Or a decision to be made. With a sigh, he placed the book he was holding in its place before turning to the cheery cook. “Yeah, I can.”

“How’s the kitchen today?” He asked lightly, having eaten the light meal quickly in order to get back to sorting. Patton hadn’t commented, nor had he been shooed away when Virgil began sorting again. He contently sat out of the way to finish his own lunch, his original goal having been accomplished.

“Oh! It’s going great today, honestly. Not too many mishaps from the newbies today either, so that's a bonus! And well, you know, making mistakes is in human nature but, they’re learning so quickly, I’m so proud of them! They’ll be taking my place by fall, just you wait and see! And, well, Roman stopped by earlier to swipe some snacks for Prince Logan, his brother, and himself. You know, the usual.” Patton chuckled, and if Virgil had looked, he’d seen the besotted look Patton always had when he talked about the head knight of the prince, he’d seen it a hundred times and was bound to see it a hundred or so more.

“Oh, speaking of,” Virgil butted in playfully, “I’ll finally get a chance to meet this knight and shining armor you’ve been swooning over for over a year now, huh?”

He watched Patton’s freckled face flush bright red, sputtering and then coughing on his mouthful of food. Virgil just cackled delightedly, stepping over to give Patton a few hard pats on the back to be sure his friend didn’t choke.

He laughed again when Patton gave him a pout and a soft “You’re so mean to me, Virge!” Eventually Virgil was able to placate Patton with a gentle hug, and the cook was sunshine and smiles again.

A finished lunch break later had Virgil finally sending Patton off, back to the warm bustling kitchens in the main castle building while he moved on to the next portion of his task.

He quickly found the steady back and forth rythme soothing. Pick a few books up, put them away. Pull a few books out, sort it by number as per their section of genre, set it in the right place. It was a blessing to find that there was just enough of a consistency to the previous plan that he could find up to five to six books in the same category in a row, and each set of books could be similar in subject, usually ending up just one section away. Often was the wayward book that found itself out of place, though he had assumed that these were often books just placed back haphazardly considering their subject patterns.

Often the most scattered and random books had ended up being of a few select categories. Without fail, he found that it would end up being a book on Space and Astronomy and/or Mathematics, in-depth Anatomy of Plants and Animals, young adult Fantasy Adventure novels, or Horror novels. It was.. Sort of odd, how there had been no section for each and all of these books, and yet there were so many evenly scattered. Perhaps that had been on purpose then, not haphazardly placed. But why?

Too busy to think deeply about it, he designated spots fitting each book type, and decided he’d figure out what he’d do with the puzzle later.

It was 6 pm by the time he’d finished the fourth row, and Patton had stopped by briefly to check on his best friend. He watched Patton’s merry expression drop some, concern seeping in as he took in his best friend’s progress.

“It’s almost 6:30, Virgil. Have you had another break yet?” He asked, watching his best friend continue moving back and forth. “Aren’t you tired? It’s been a little under 12 hours at this point, kiddo.. dontcha think it’s time to call it for the day? I mean, you’re already halfway there!”

“Library hours, at least Librarian work hours, don’t end till 9. And yeah, I guess I’m a little tired? But I’m in the zone, Pat. You know how I get when I’m in The Zone. If I stop now, who knows how long it’ll take me to finish sorting the other half?” Virgil rambled, half distracted and still trying to keep a vice grip on his concentration. “And besides, King Thomas said he’d be checking in on me tomorrow.”

“But Virge, you know he doesn’t expect you to have it done in one day. Thomas isn’t like that! That’s why he gave you a whole week to settle in, so you could move into the Library’s living quarters-which you haven’t done yet, might I add!- and get the library situated.” Patton stood stiffly, knowing he was fighting a losing battle. Virgil was as stubborn as he himself was when his mind was made up.

“Look, Pat.. just, I’m sorry. You know I hate to worry you. I’ll try to stop at 10, go home and get some rest, and tomorrow i’ll move my stuff into my new home here. And, i’ll take a break from sorting for a few hours. Okay?” Virgil reached out, taking Patton’s hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. He let Patton pull him into a tight hug, and didn’t resist when Patton briefly rubbed at his tense shoulders.

“Okay. Just, take care of yourself, Virge, okay? If I find out you stayed out an hour later than 11 pm, you’re gonna be in big trouble mister!” Patton giggled, lightening the mood the way he knew how.

“Yeah, yeah, hear ya loud and clear, Dad.” He watched Patton beam at the nickname, and moments later he watched Patton disappear behind the library’s main entrance door as his friend left him be, reassured. Virgil gave a heavy sigh, looking down guiltily at the stray book clutched in his hands.

“Let’s just hope ‘trouble’ just means a week of disappointed reprimands like last time…”

Hours later, Virgil’s head jerked up from his sorting as a father clock somewhere in the library dinged, signalling 10 o'clock. Biting his lip, he walked to the front doors and examined his options. He found he could lock the library from the inside, and pulled down the shutters. Briskly, he moved to cover each large window with their thick drapery, finding the adorning cloth thick enough to keep the low artificial light from seeping out. He dimmed the inner library lights so the library looked closed, but otherwise the building was still functioning from within.

Unless someone else had keys to the doors of the library, no one would know that the librarian was still stationed and working within. No one could see out, and more importantly, no one could see in. Which meant that Virgil was safe from Patton’s wrath if the Cook came to check on him, temporarily at least.

“Fuck, Patton’s gonna be so mad..” He muttered to himself, leaning against the librarian’s desk with a deep sigh. He’d briefly admired the beautiful desk earlier in the day, from the intricate carving to the beautiful dark mahogany. It would serve him well in the future, he hoped, after the thorough ‘grounding’ he knew he was going to get from Patton.

He shook his head to free his thoughts. There was no sense in getting in trouble and feeling guilty about it if he didn’t do anything to learn from in the first place. It was time to get back to work, and if he was lucky, he’d finish the main body of the library by the time his next shift started. Then, he could try and play it off, like nothing had ever happened, he’d just keep Patton out of the library till tomorrow to hide his finished work.

11 pm came and passed as he worked, and when he looked next at the clock, he found it was nearly 4 am. Tired but determined with only one row left, Virgil trekked on with a new vigor. All-nighters weren’t anything new to Virgil, not in the slightest. He was a creature of the night who rarely got a full night's rest to begin with. And sure, it was rare he worked his body so hard and for so long, but fixations were hard to break once in The Zone, it’s not like he could feel it past the hyperfixation haze.

Patton had often told him off for it when they were young, but as time passed they’d come to realize that’s just how Virgil was. Laying down did nothing to lure his mind to sleep on even the tiredest of nights if his insomnia had something to say about it. Better that he used the extra time to be productive, rather than spend 6 hours tossing and turning in bed, numbers and thoughts crowding in his head, and only getting up more restless than before. Patton often just tried to ease the aftermath if he could help it.

Sliding the last book into place was like sliding a final puzzle piece into a massive puzzle. The triumph of accomplishment had never felt so good, not like this.

Though, he quickly found himself aimless not 10 minutes later, seeking errors to fix and lost books to give a home. His brain wasn’t ready to let go of it’s fixation just yet, but as each second crawled by, he found himself recentering into the real world.

His body ached, and he was exhausted. His stomach gnawed at him weakly in hunger and his eyes watered from staring unblinkingly for so long. He eyed the chair behind the librarian’s desk, his desk now, he reminded himself.

“Screw it.. The Library’s sorted enough, I've got the rest of the week to make it perfect. A ten minute nap won’t hurt, right..?” He huffed to himself as he pulled the window curtains open one by one. Shuffling over to the main library doors, he unlocked them and raised the shutters. Soft morning sun rays fluttered into the connected windowed hallway just beyond the doors. He smiled at the tiny beauty of life, spotting the main library windows letting in the same comforting, dappled light.

Pulling his cloak tighter around himself, he plopped into the chair at his desk, finding it soft and comforting. Leaning forward, he rested his head on his arms, and under the fluttering morning light, succumbed to sleep’s gentle embrace.

Unknowing of the rude awakening that was soon to come.

Chapter two

[oumaheroes]

WIP Extract- Breathe

This comes from my fic Reset, which is long and large and something that is most certainly impossible to read in a day.

The fic itself mainly focuses on England and France with FrUK as the relationship, but I enjoyed writing this interaction between Scotland and England and wanted to share. Context wise, England has been shot in the shoulder and has got himself into a bit of a political pickle- Scotland was called in to help dig him out of the very self-inflicted hole.

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Scotland did most of the talking. England was far too tired to argue or to properly conceptualise any next steps that were needed and the only emotion he found distinguishable from bone aching tiredness was deep gratitude. Now that everything was being handled by someone else, and someone else who England trusted to be competent, there was no panic or worry to keep him alert and he was finding it increasingly difficult to stay conscious, let alone remain focused on conversations enough to be able to provide intelligent input.

France was very much the same. He hadn't spoken much more since the motorhome, not even when North had laughed at him for his ridiculously baggy stolen clothes. The location of France's own things was a mystery- perhaps they had been abandoned at the care home or chucked out of the window as they'd driven here- who knew. Technically they were England's clothes anyway, so France wasn't too bothered.

The most France had done was rummage through Scotland's luggage before they set off and triumphantly pull one of Wales’ jumpers out from his suitcase to take for his own.

'If I ever insult the lovely Wales' fashion choices again, please remind me of this moment.'

It was a horribly garish thing, mottled with splashes of bright red and blue. It was entirely the sort of thing Scotland would also eye up and steal. Terrible looking though they may be, Wales' jumpers were, somehow, always the most comfortable and he was frequently annoyed with his siblings for taking them if he left them anywhere for too long, which he often did.

'We all know that as soon as you get back to your own clothes you will conveniently forget this conversation.'

France ignored England in favour of pulling the jumper over his head and giving a long sigh of contentment.

'Go on, hurry up,' Scotland pushed past him to the driver's door, causing him to stumble forwards, 'chuck England something to cover the blood and get in the car already. I'm leaving with or without you in five minutes.'

Although they now had the backing of the embassy to explain any erratic and untoward behaviour concerning the general public, England did look particularly horrific and it probably wouldn't end well if they waltzed in looking as they did. There was a high chance someone would panic and phone an ambulance which was the last thing anyone wanted- hospitals were always risky for their kind and drawing more attention to themselves at the moment wouldn't be wise.

Because of this, England before too long thankfully found himself in a hotel lobby wearing an extremely large green monstrosity he was most certainly not going to give back later.

Someone, probably not Scotland because the place was far too comfortable looking and Scotland was always the most careful (England preferred the word stingy) with money out of all of them, had arranged a hotel for them in Le Mans. It wasn't anywhere too extravagant or fancy but it was a bed each and that was honestly all England wanted right now. It wasn’t even that late in the evening but all he could think about was going to sleep somewhere and being left very much alone.

Sadly, he wasn't given that luxury. As soon as they'd checked in and avoided the suspicious eyes of the hotel staff, Scotland had bullied him into his room and through to the bathroom. He'd requested that the embassy bring additional medical supplies when they arrived for their nations to use and whilst England was pulling off the top most layers of clothing he unpacked them on his bed, picking out what he thought they'd need.

'It's not too bad,' England called out to him from the bathroom, giving up on his top completely and cackhandedly cutting his way free with a pair of medical scissors. In the room next door, he could hear the sound of a shower turning on- France must have jumped straight in, 'it'll be fine with a wash.'

Scotland returned with some bandages and antiseptic solution and placed them down on the counter, 'Sure.'

'Honestly.'

'Okay.'

'There's no point fussing, I can do it myself.'

England made a grab for the antiseptic but Scotland moved it back and away, out of easy reach, 'Christ, would you stop?'

'Just give it here, you go check on France or North.'

'No, England sit.'

There was a wooden chair in the bathroom and Scotland pulled it over and tried to push England into it. Too tired to properly fight him England sat, but reached over to the counter to grab for the gauze.

Scotland slapped his hand away and stood in front of them, blocking him.

'Scotland. Let me-'

'Bollocks to that, look,'

Scotland crouched down in front of him and England bristled immediately at the offense, 'Don't treat me like a child.' He wasn’t dying.

'I'm not, just,' Scotland made an exasperated noise, 'calm the fuck down.'

'I am calm, you are what is currently stressing me out.' England grit his teeth and forced himself to sound level-headed and somewhat close to polite. He really couldn't be arsed to deal with any more grief today and his tolerance for his brothers' particular flavour of annoyance was always low.

'No, hear me out for a minute,' Scotland put a large hand on England's good shoulder and let it rest there, heavy, and England tensed at the contact, 'breathe, for just one bloody second. Even before France came back you weren't feeling great and you've had a shit few days. Just breathe, and stop trying to take control of every damn thing.'

Scotland's eyes looked far too serious and, dare he say, concerned and England tried to shrug him off, 'I'm fine, I only got caught in the shoulder- it's nothing any of us haven't had before. There's no need for all of this,' England gestured with his head to the neat rolls of bandages and the bottle of antiseptic. They were modern luxuries to them; effective and modern medical supplies were only things that were easily to hand in the last century. England had received far worse injuries before, hell, had received far worse injuries from Scotland before- this truly was nothing worthy of any particular extra care or attention.

What he wanted was for Scotland to leave him alone and go and check on North, to make sure he was okay and let England pick at his shoulder how he wanted. Scotland wasn't usually one to provide any form of tender affection or coddling, whilst England had been growing up Scotland's method of child rearing at been a firm, rough bluntness that he now found oddly comforting and expected. This sort of behaviour usually came from Wales, so to see it from Scotland was incredibly unnerving.

'I'm not talking about the shoulder,' Scotland only tightened his hold and England tipped his head back against the wall in frustration, 'I can feel you better now that I'm close and you're putting me on edge.'

There were benefits to being in a political union. The UK was made up of four separate countries, four independent states with long, messy histories that intertwined yes, but were still very separate beings. However, under the United Kingdom they formed one nation, one political entity and that caused a strange blurring of self, sometimes. It gave them all a sort of fuzzy idea as to how the other members of the union were doing- how the English banks were faring, how the Welsh harvest was coming along, how much the tourism in Northern Ireland had swelled and boosted the local economy and how much the fishing industry was suffering in Scotland.

It was handy; it was extremely useful when it came to planning and understanding how to best move forward as one nation of 4 people, and it was also a pain.

It was a pain because England couldn't hide himself as much as he wanted to around his brothers these days, couldn't put on an entirely impenetrable mask of indifference as he would like because if there was something wrong then the other members of the United Kingdom would know about it, regardless of how much he tried to cover it up. He was used to this feeling of intimacy with Wales, who had been bound to him since 1301, but Scotland still felt somewhat new. They hadn't always had a peaceful relationship, their people had often been at very bloody war with each other, and at times it still felt odd for Scotland to read him so well, even after three hundred odd years together. Especially in moments when England wanted to come across differently to how he really felt.

It sometimes felt even stranger for Scotland to act upon England's vulnerability with kindness rather than take advantage, although England knew that he was being unfair to think that. He hadn't always given his eldest brother the opportunity to demonstrate anything other than what England had come to expect and a lot of that he knew in hindsight was self-inflicted.

As for right now...

England forced himself to meet Scotland’s eye, 'I'll be fine. I just need to sleep and eat something and get home.'

'Aye, I know,' Scotland gave his shoulder a brief pat before letting go, standing up to pick up the supplies on the counter, 'but you feel like you're gonna have a heart attack so until then, let someone else do something for a change. You don't have to do it all on your own.'

England closed his eyes and listened to the sound of the tap as Scotland washed his hands. Scotland was calm and healthy, his banks were strong, his people were happy and he felt steady and familiar- an old ancient lullaby and a well-trodden path to home.

Despite what he said, and even though he wouldn't never admit this even to himself, having Scotland nearby felt good and England had to concede that maybe his brother was right. He took a deep breath in and held it for a moment before letting it go, feeling the tension that he hadn't realised was there lift from his shoulders and jaw.

Scotland made a noise of approval and stepped closer, a calloused hand on England's arm to warn him about the incoming stinging sensation, 'everything is being handled. After this I'll go grab us something to eat, drag North in the shower, and you can go to bed.'

Belatedly, England realised that their entire conversation was being held in Brythonic and although a small part of himself was unamused that Scotland could trick and lull him into passivity so easily, he was mostly grateful for it. A shared history, a collective notion of stability, peace and default comfort wasn't something to take for granted. England couldn't quite bring himself to express this in words, but he hoped that his appreciation for it came across well enough by keeping his eyes shut and doing as he was told.

[need-a-fugue]

We Grow Together (27)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Tessa Sullivan (OFC)

Chapter Summary: An argument leads to a deep dive into the past, and Tessa finally shares with Bucky some important insights into her history. 

Warnings: Angst! Brief mentions of sexual assault.

Summary: Relationships can be tough, especially when one person is a recovering-from-being-brainwashed-and-tortured former assassin and the other is an overworked mutant scientist. But hey, every couple has their struggles. Right?

“What the hell was that?” Bucky angrily barks when he enters the conference room they commandeered at the tower.

Tessa doesn’t even realize that he’s talking to her, she’s so consumed with reading the emails on her phone. But of course, everyone else in the room knows exactly who his words are directed at. Clint casually reaches over her and pries the phone from her hands. “Hey! That’s important… that’s work,” she complains, smacking at him to get the phone back.

Bucky steps up so that he’s directly in front of her, looming over her as she leans on the table at the center of the room. “I told you to stay in my sight.” He seethes. “You don’t disappear like that.”

“What?” she asks, a scowl taking over her face. “Are you serious? I moved around the corner for like 30 seconds.”

“The one thing we agreed on was that you’d stay in our sights. The entire time. That’s protocol.”

“Protocol?” she laughs. “You said you were going to shoot him.”

He lets out and indignant scoff. “I wasn’t going to shoot him! You were in the middle of a restaurant. In Manhattan. You think I’m an idiot?”

“You think I am?”

“Enough,” Steve shouts, walking over to stand between the arguing couple. He turns to Tessa. “You were told to stay where we could see you. That was an order.”

She rolls her eyes dramatically. “Cal’s a complete asshole, but he’s no threat to me. Not like you’re thinking.”

“That’s not the damn point,” Bucky shoots out from behind Steve.

Steve levels her with a stare. “When you’re in the field, you follow my orders. If you can’t do that, you can’t be a part of this team. Understood?”

“Am I supposed to salute now or something?” she says, crossing her arms tightly in front of her.

He takes a step closer. “Is that understood?” he asks again through gritted teeth.

If she is intimidated, she doesn’t let it show, her stance remaining defiant even as she bitterly issues out, “Yes, sir.”

“And you,” he says, spinning around to face his friend, “You’re not in charge here.”

Bucky’s face pinches, so taken aback by the statement. “What?”

“This is my op. You report to me. You don’t threaten civilians – ”

“It wasn’t a real threat,” he protests.

“You don’t berate someone on my team,” Steve goes on.

He throw up his arms in obvious irritation. “This is such bullshit.”

Steve grabs his arm and drags him to a corner of the room, never mind the fact that Bucky’s metal fingers furiously try to pry loose from his grip as they move. “You’re pissed off, I get it,” he says in a low tone. “But if you want to be on this team, I need you respect my authority. If someone on the team screws up, it’s on me to talk to them about it. Not you. Especially if that someone is your…”

Bucky raises his eyebrows expectantly. “My…”

Steve rolls his eyes. “You know what I’m saying. If something happens with Tessa on a mission, you need to let me handle it. I don’t want to cut you loose. But if I feel like you can’t be objective, I will.”

Bucky grinds his jaw, positively seething at his friend’s – his captain’s – words. “Understood,” he grits out finally, realizing that there’s really no logical argument he can make.

“Good.” Steve turns back to the team. “Good,” he says to everyone. “Okay. Let’s head back to the compound for tonight. We can reconvene at 0700 to have an official debrief and plan our next move.”

“I don’t suppose anyone else wants to give me a lift?” Tessa asks, not even bothering to look up from the phone that she finally managed to wrestle away from Barton.

“Oh no,” Clint says, patting her on the shoulder as he heads for the door. “But just remember, if things get too tense, you two can always pull over and hate fuck in a bathroom somewhere.” She punches him in the arm. Hard. But it doesn’t keep him from raucously laughing as he strolls out of the room behind Nat and Steve.

000

They’re in the car no more than five minutes when she starts worrying her hands so hard that he actually hears a knuckle pop. He glances down and sees the anxious tugging and bending that’s caused her fingers to go white. “Stop that,” he snaps.

She looks over at him with a pained expression. “I’m sorry about leaving your sight, okay?” He doesn’t respond, though she can see his jaw tense as he watches the highway in front of them. “Are you really that mad at me?”

He pinches his lips tightly together and looks away from the road just long enough to spare her a glimpse. “No.”

She continues to nervously work her hands. “Are you sure? You seem pretty angry.”

He takes in a long, deep breath. “I’m mad at you for disobeying orders.” His eyes drop to the abused fingers in her lap and he sighs as he removes his right hand from the steering wheel and drops it onto her hands, pulling them apart. He laces his fingers with hers and turns his attention back to the road. “But I’m not really mad at you.”

She swallows hard and gives his hand a sharp squeeze. “I’m not good at following orders.”

“Yeah,” he says, the corner of his mouth quirking up as he moves his hand back to the wheel. “I know.”

“Steve got very captain-y,” she hums, brows raised. “I thought he was going to ground me.”

Bucky lets loose with a small chuckle, though he tries to hide it. “You’d deserve it.”

She shifts in her seat, turning to face him. “I popped around the corner for less than a minute.”

“A minute is all it takes,” he says, tone suddenly serious.

“He wasn’t going to hurt me. He wouldn’t do that.”

“You don’t know that,” he says, the pinched expression returning to his face.

“I do know that. I know him.”

“Right,” he says, a sardonic laugh escaping him. “You know him pretty damn well, huh?”

“Aha!” If it weren’t for the fact that she was belted in, she would be jumping right out of her seat. “I knew you were mad.”

“I’m not mad,” he seethes. “You have a past. So do I. You’ve been with other men.”

“So have you?”

He slowly turns his head to give her an irritated look. He’s met with a very recognizable shit-eating grin. “I’m not mad about that. I didn’t like finding out about him this way…”

Her expression falls and she pivots a bit in her seat, leaning her head back as she stares at him. “I didn’t know… It honestly didn’t occur to me…”

“I know.” He turns his soft blue eyes to her just long enough to momentarily meet her gaze.

“I didn’t really think he was dead.” She crinkles her brow. “Well, he could’ve been and it wouldn’t have surprised me. But… I honestly didn’t think I’d ever see him again.”

They sit in silence for a good mile and half before Bucky nervously utters, “You were with him for five years.”

She scoffs loudly. “Hardly.” She pulls her legs up underneath her, folding herself up on the leather seat. “I mean… technically, maybe.”

“Technically maybe?”

“It was… complicated.”

He continues to stare straight ahead at the road, makes no move to look at her when he asks, “Did you love him?”

She hesitates only briefly. “Yes.”

He gives a slow nod as he takes that in. “Even though he’s an asshole?”

Sniggering, she replies, “Because he’s an asshole. Always was.” She looks out the window wistfully. “The guy you saw today is the guy he’s always been. Just a giant ball of selfish, blind ambition.”

Bucky raises his brows thoughtfully. “Sounds a little like someone else I know.”

“You think I’m selfish?” she frowns at him.

He glances over at her with a playful smile. “Blindly ambitious,” he clarifies.

She shrugs. “Yeah, I guess. I guess we did have that in common.”

“So…” he prompts when she falls silent.

“So what?”

“So why would you fall in love with an asshole?” He looks over and sees the thoughtful frown on her face. “Am I an asshole?” he asks, a hint of sincerity mixed in with the teasing.

She looks positively stricken when she turns to him. “God, no. Baby,” she says, reaching out to grasp his shoulder, “You’re amazing.”

“I’m amazing?” he laughs.

She leans closer to him, curling around the center console in an attempt to be next to him. “You care so much… about me and Steve, and everyone else you love. And you love! And you show it.” Falling back into her seat, she turns her face away. “Cal was never like that. Not at all.”

“He didn’t love you?”

She shrugs. “I think he did. He’s just… different. And honestly, at that time, when I was with him – at least in the beginning – I don’t think I would’ve really accepted love… not the kind of love that you give me, anyway,” she finishes with a soft smile.

Bucky nods for a moment, thinking through what he wants to ask next. “But he never… hurt you?”

“Well,” she breathes out. “I was young, dumb, and in love. And he was a bit older, way more experienced, and, you know, an asshole.”

“Physically,” he states, a rough edge to his voice. She gives him a confused look. “That dream you had,” he says, struggling to get the words out. “Someone choked you.”

She takes a sharp inhale and shakes her head emphatically. “No. No, that wasn’t Cal.”

“So… some other asshole boyfriend?”

Sighing, she leans her head back on the headrest. “That was before Cal. A long time ago. When I was even younger and dumber.” She looks over at him and sees his jaw tick as his eyes remain fixed on the road ahead. “You’ve been holding onto that one,” she says with a smirk.

He gives her a get serious look, but says nothing.

They sit in silence for a long moment, the only sound the low hum of the barely there music on the radio. She lets out a single, long-held breath. “It was in college. I was 18 and living a double life. Science nerd in a fast-track med program by day. Vigilante mutant X-Man by night. Well, some nights.” He glances over at her and sees that she’s staring pensively out the passenger’s side window as she speaks. “There was this guy… just a normal, smart guy. Normal. You know how it is, you go out a few times. You have a good time. You think, hey, this is great, he really likes me! And I’d never been with a normal guy before. But then it was like a switch somewhere flipped and…” She shrugs again.

“And?” he asks, his voice timid.

She turns to face him and the two lock eyes for a brief moment before he’s forced to look back at the road. Once he turns away, she continues, slowly, achingly. “That night, things got… heated. More heated than usual. And he shoved me. And then he choked me. And I started to use my powers. But then I thought… if you do that, everyone will know. At Xavier’s I was… me. Whatever that meant. But in the real world… I had to be someone else. Something else.” She closes her eyes tightly, squeezing them shut for a single, long moment. “Like I said, I was young and dumb.”

He sits with her words for a moment, brow furrowed in thought. Then… “You let someone just…” He can’t quite bring himself to finish the thought, so she does it for him.

“Rape me?”

His eyes go wide, chest tightens. He had thought that might’ve been what happened. But hearing the word… It’s almost too much to take, and all at once, his mind veers back to Cal. “Why would you love someone who’s bad to you?” he asks, the question tumbling out over his lips as he slowly pulls the car over to the side of the road.

“What?” she asks, genuinely confused.

He puts the car in park and turns to her. “Why would you let someone hurt you?”

She looks into his eyes and sees indisputable pain, as though just hearing that she’s been hurt in the past had somehow managed to knock the wind out of him. “Are… are you talking about…”

“I’m talking about all of it, Tessa. I’m talking about this guy… Cal. I’m talking about re-hiring Max. I’m talking about this… thing in college.”

“I just told you about that. I didn’t want to be found out. I didn’t want to be the mutant freak.”

He shakes his head and stares her down, his light eyes suddenly swimming in unshed tears. “I’m talking about me almost killing you.”

“Jesus!” She rips off the seatbelt and propels herself upright in the car seat, up onto her knees that had been tucked beneath her. “We’ve been through this!”

“Have we?” he asks, voice a little too calm.

“You didn’t mean to hurt me. You would never mean to hurt me!”

“But I did.”

She shakes her head, frustration causing a bright blush to grow over her cheeks and burn at the tips of her ears. “I shouldn’t have to explain to you why I did or didn’t do something… I shouldn’t have to explain to you why I forgave you for something that wasn’t even your fault.”

“I never asked for an explanation. Because I know I would’ve forgiven you too. But… I’m worried there’s something more here. A pattern.” He speaks while staring down at his own hands, either too upset or too certain of his words to be willing to look her in the eye as he utters them.

Tessa takes in a deep breath and markedly blows it out. Anger and frustration are causing tears to build in her eyes and clog the back of her throat. “I’m sorry you feel that way,” she chokes out.

At hearing her tear-filled voice, his gaze shifts up. He locks eyes with her and his frown deepens. “I just want what’s best for you,” he says, soft sincerity lacing his words.

She lets out a single, harsh guffaw. “That’s what you say to a child, James. I’m not a fucking child.”

“Okay.” He turns back to the road, stares ahead at the setting sun in the distance. The car continues to run, engine idling in rhythm with the slight hum of the music on the radio.

Tessa shifts, unfolding her legs from beneath her and sliding back down into her seat. “Cal was like a drug for me,” she says softly. “His energy was… intense. And penetrating. I… I felt it.” She sniffles a bit and swipes at a few errant tears that rolled down her cheeks. “It’s not a pattern. I’m not some insecure little girl who goes looking for pain because she thinks she deserves it.”

He pivots his head toward her, gazing at the side of her still-red face as she focuses her eyes straight ahead. “What is it then?”

She shakes her head absently – “It’s me.” – and turns her glistening gaze to him for the briefest of moments. “Sometimes… I feel so much that it’s like I can’t actually feel anything at all. I can’t really explain it. Feeling energy… it’s just something I can do. It’s like seeing or hearing. Or smelling.” She turns her body towards him and reaches out, takes his hand in hers. “You know what it’s like when you smell something for so long, and you get used to it… sensitized? And then you just can’t smell it anymore?”

He nods.

“I think I have a better handle on it now. Probably not always. But I can sort of… tune people out now in a way that I couldn’t before. But then… when I first met Cal… I just needed to feel. And he had this sort of powerful energy that was just so… big. And I needed it. Because it was the only thing I could really feel. Sometimes I still get like that.” She pulls in a sharp breath. “And sometimes that intensity is bad… yeah. Sometimes it’s unhealthy or… or hurtful.” Then, looking deep into his eyes, she says simply, “But sometimes I need it.”

He pulls his hand from hers and reaches up to her face to swipe away a few tear tracks with the pad of his thumb. He gives her a small, almost sad smile. “Do you get that from me?”

A slight chuckle escapes her, as do a few more tears as her eyes shift down. “At first, maybe. Yeah, you have a sort of brooding intensity. And that was probably the first thing that attracted me to you.” She looks back up at him, takes in his frown. “Then I got to know you, and I realized there was so much more to be attracted to. And then I really got to know you…”

“I don’t like the idea of you wanting to be with me because of that.”

“Baby, it’s just… you.” She snuggles her cheek into his open palm. “Your energy is bright and intense and brave and… How could I not want to be around that?” He looks less than convinced as he drops his hand from her face and swallows hard. So she goes on, ready to explain. “Everyone has a certain energy signature. The people I know well, I can tell when they’re in a room, sometimes when they’re in the same building as me, even if I can’t see or hear them. I can feel them.”

He nods. “Yeah, you’ve mentioned that before.”

“But the thing I’ve noticed, the thing I’ve figured out over the years, is that inside that signature there’s this one thing. It almost feels dumb to put a word to it… a single word really isn’t enough to properly describe it… but…” She pauses for moment and chews the inside of her cheek as she thinks. “Natasha,” she starts again. “She’s this fierce, determined, fearless, smart, amazing woman.”

He raises his brows and nods. “Okay. Sure.”

“That thing that I can sense, the most potent piece of her energy signature… it’s vulnerability. It’s something she hides well, but I can see it… feel it. And Steve… When he’s around I’m swept up in this overwhelming desire for justice. It might not be something he’s always thinking about, but it’s so much a part of him that even his base energy just exudes it. Clint gives off joy. Even when he’s at his worst. Even when he doesn’t feel happy at all. He still is joy. Sam is love,” she says with a small laugh. “Pure and simple. And Tony is – it might sound crazy – insecurity. Bruce is fear,” she finishes with a frown.

Bucky gives her a thoughtful look. “What am I?”

She gazes at him, a small smile blooming on her face. “You’re my strength,” she says wistfully. “I might’ve noticed the intensity at first… the anger, the pain, the confusion… all of that created this force that sucked me in. But the closer I got to you, the easier it was to see what was hidden beneath all of those loud elements. You’ve made it through so much. You fought your way back from hell. You never gave up. You, my dear,” she says with a teasing glint, “are stronger than anyone I’ve known. At your core. It’s something that just… burns inside of you.”

He drops his head, a bit of a blush taking over his face. “That sounds better than… intensity.”

She laughs, a light and airy sound that makes his heart beat quicken. “Oh, you still have intensity. But what I get from you… it’s good.”

He looks up at her, still ducking his head. “Are you sure?”

She nods. “Cal was a destructive drug. You… you’re like… you’re like coffee.”

He snorts out a laugh. “I’m like coffee?”

Slowly, she climbs over the center console in the car and into his lap. He shifts to let her settle in as she wraps her arms around him. Laying her head on his shoulder, she mutters simply, “You sustain me.”

[tae-cup]

The Last Great American Dynasty | KTH Oneshot

Inspired by: Taylor Swift’s “The Last Great American Dynasty”

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Reader

Summary: A successful businessman meets a woman he never should have met.

Warnings: N/A, ANGST, but also lots of fluff!

Word Count: 5.8k (I really did get carried away with this one. And for what?)

A/N: I just got inspired-anywho, how’s everyone doing today?? Stay safe and wash your hands haha also I’m sorry about the end...

Other: Masterlist

There goes the last great American dynasty Who knows, if she never showed up, what could've been There goes the maddest woman this town has ever seen She had a marvelous time ruining everything

-

-

“Mr. Kim! Mr. Kim!” Dozens of reporters shouted as a handsome man made his way to his car. “Mr. Kim!” When he took a second to look back at the crowd, the reporters went into a frenzy. 

“Mr. Kim! Where are you going?”

“Mr. Kim! Is it true that your marriage with Jennie is two months away?” 

“Mr. Kim!” 

And on and on it went. The flashing lights and clicking of cameras wasn’t anything new to him. Taehyung simply smiled at the questions before stepping into his car. The driver started maneuvering through the mob of people. Inside, his stomach turned, disgusted at the thought of his arranged marriage with Jennie. He wanted to choose someone for himself, shouldn’t he be allowed that? The dark haired man was off on a short trip to somewhere secluded to enjoy his freedom. Then he would return a month before the wedding. As the scenery of buildings turned to green, he leaned back. The quiet in the car was a sound he missed. 

-

-

You walked over to the next table, carefully balancing a tray of plates and drinks on one arm. The other held the order number. Your hair was tied up in a messy bun. It hadn’t been messy when you started, it had just been hectic. Now, the lunch rush was dying down and this was your last table. You expected it would be the last table all day. You lived in a small town. Everyone knew everyone. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Jung, I have your food here.” You smiled and placed the plates in front of the married couple. They gave you warm smiles and went back to their conversation. You decided you would clean up your area early and head out. After all, every day was the same. The same residents came in and out. You knew there wouldn’t be anyone coming around. 

“Hey, Jisoo, I’m gonna clean up and then clock out. Want to go to the movies later?” You called back to your pretty friend who was manning the register and finishing up some order receipts. 

“Uh, sorry, Y/N,” She responded in a distracted voice as she focused on the totals. “I have a date.” 

“Oh, right! I completely forgot. How is he?” You wiggled your eyebrows. 

“Oh...He’s alright.” She smiled sheepishly, suddenly focused on the ground. 

“Just alright? Jisoo, he’s the catch of the town. Namjoon should be blessed to be in your presence.” 

She rolled her eyes, turning back to the register. You didn’t have much of a love life so you spent your time at home, at the diner, or wanting to know all the dirty secrets of Jisoo’s love life. Jisoo was classically beautiful. Full lips, long hair. and big eyes. It was no wonder she got the prettiest boy in town. Jisoo could have anyone in town. 

“Anyway, I’m sorry about the movies. I know you want to go see that new one.” 

“Live action Mulan can wait.” You chuckled. You walked into the back to grab a rag from the storage closet. You didn’t even hear the bell ring from the front that signaled someone entering the diner. “I mean, it’s just the most kick ass story of the 20th century and forever, am I right, Jisoo?” You found a rag and dunked it in the bucket of water nearby. Ringing it out, you started walking toward the front, damp rag in hand. “Jisoo?” 

Then you spotted what made her stop. It halted you in your tracks. 

“Oh.” You whispered to yourself. 

There stood a tall man with tan skin, beautiful full lips, and dark curly hair. Jisoo was nervously taking his order, but he didn’t seem to mind the wait. Your friend made a quick gesture under the counter. It said stop gaping you idiot. Then he looked at you. And oh, wasn’t the right word to describe your reaction. It was more like ohmygodwhoisthatwhyishesohandsomeshortcircuitinghelpme. When he shot you a small smile, you felt your heart flutter and start beating at an unusually fast pace. 

“Right this way, sir.” Jisoo hurried past you, carrying a napkin and silverware. She hadn’t expected anyone else either and had put away all the napkins and silverware. When she bumped past you, it was like the world went back to normal. You quickly went about cleaning the counters, trying to resist the urge to look at the handsome stranger a few tables away. 

He looked out the window idly as if he had all the time in the world. One hand tapped the table and he rested his chin in the other. His eyes just watched the treeline as if it could change at any moment. There was a distant look on his face. 

The bell rung at the kitchen and you jumped at the intrusion. It had been quiet. If it wasn’t for the tapping of his fingers, it would seem as if no one was there. You hurried to the back and carefully put his plate on a tray along with his drink. Then you made your way out where he sat. You didn’t want to break the lovely quiet, but you had to. 

“Hello!” You said cheerily, flashing him a winning smile. “I have your order of noodles and a coke.” You put down the plate and cool drink in front of him. 

The man watched you intently. You pushed a strand of hair behind your ear as you turned around to head back to cleaning tables. 

“What’s your name?” He said, his voice a deep rumble. 

“Ah, I’m Y/L/N Y/F/N.” You dipped your head in greeting, turning to face him again. 

“I’m Kim Taehyung.” His mouth twitched into a smile. 

“It’s nice to meet you.” 

Before you could go back again, he spoke, “Do you live here, in this town?” 

“Yes, sir.” You responded politely. 

“Here, come sit with me. I want to know more about this town.” He patted the seat next to him. You looked at him with hesitation. Finally, you found the courage to move forward. Instead of sitting beside him, you slid onto the seat across from him in the booth. 

“You’re new around here.” You pointed out, feeling dumb. Of course he’s not from around here.

“What gave it away?” He chuckled. You felt your tense shoulders relaxing. Taehyung was devilishly handsome. The name was familiar to you, but you couldn’t place your finger on it. 

“The suit. The car.” You gestured outside to the porsche. “Plus, I don’t recognize you and everyone knows everyone here.” You explained. 

The dark haired man looked pleased at your observations. “Tell me more about this town.” 

“Oh, okay, well, it used to be a mining and trading town. Settlers came from all over to find gold and trade silk.” You listed the history you remembered from your class. “But then we ran out and...” You sighed, thinking of the sad history of your dead beat town. “...and everyone left. My family stayed. We’ve been here since the beginning. I’ve always wanted to leave this place.” You whispered the last part. 

Then you turned to him, surprised as if just seeing him there. Did you just really pour out your thoughts with no filter to a stranger? He made you feel comfortable. He didn’t seem to judge you. You remembered the first person you told about wanting to leave. Your older sister had practically sobbed how unfair it would be if you left and not her. How you had to stay because it was family tradition. How you’d break your parents’ hearts. 

Well now your mother was dead, your father never home, and you had no college education. That didn’t stop you from trying and you were in no way stupid. You just didn’t have the means to get out of this town. Your sister had health complications and you felt obligated to stay. You were only 20. 

“I know how you feel.” Taehyung’s voice ripped you from your thoughts. “I wanted to get away from my life for a while. That’s why I’m here.” 

You tilted your head, taking in his words. What was so bad in his life that he needed to escape to the middle of nowhere? 

“I hope you can find something important in this town, then.” Your voice was tired. People came and went, but no one ever stayed. 

“Yes...hopefully.” When he looked at you, there was something in his eyes that you couldn’t quite read. 

He was fascinated by you. You didn’t ask too many questions and he was having a genuine conversation with someone for the first time in...years. I miss this. He thought to himself. 

“What do you do for work?” You asked, genuine curiosity tingeing your voice. You couldn’t help wondering about the newcomer in town. 

“Business.” He replied vaguely. You had a feeling he didn’t want you to pry, so you switched subjects. 

“This place used to be busy, you know?” You began. He looked at you, encouraging you to continue so you did. “I mean, when I was in high school I would have to try not to run into people at the shopping center.” You shook your head slightly at the memory. “Now I have trouble finding people.” 

“Where did everyone go?” 

The words struck a chord in you. You’d had those words ringing in your head since you graduated high school. It was lonely in this town. Your sister was in the hospital miles outside of town and your friends were merely ghosts besides Jisoo. He must have sense the atmosphere changed as he cleared his throat. Your eyes darted around his face, looking for any ulterior motives. Once deciding there were none, you sighed and gave in to the question. 

“I’m not entirely sure. Jisoo and I don’t talk about it usually.” You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. “But I think everyone left as fast as possible once high school ended and no one bothered looking back. This town will just be ghosts in a few years.” You admitted, clasping your hands together on the table. The thought of this town dying so easily always made you feel a tad emotional. You gave up your future for this. 

He nodded along. A muscle in his jaw twitched. “That’s what happened to my town.” 

That caught you off guard. Your expression must have said exactly that because he continued.

“I came from a small town just like this one. I guess this place gives me nostalgia. Now I live in Seoul. I was one of those teens who left and never came back. But I went to visit a few years ago and I knew there was nothing left for me in that town.” He shrugged nonchalantly, but it clearly still bothered him. You found yourself placing a hand on his and giving it a quit squeeze. 

“I’m sorry that happened to you.” You peered into his dark gaze. His breath hitched. Then he looked away, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. 

“Well, the past is past.” It barely came out as a whisper. You quickly withdrew your hand, realizing how intimate it seemed. You supposed you were just used to that kind of intimacy living in such a small town. 

“Achem, right. Well, I have to close up.” You excused yourself and slid out of the booth. Golden rays of sunlight painted the diner in a soft hue. His face practically glowed in this lighting. 

“Of course, of course.” He murmured, suddenly distant again. His eyes watched the trees that now cast long shadows on the road. 

You hurried to grab the long forgotten rag and started scrubbing at the counters. Jisoo looked at you, an amused grin on her face. You knew instantly that she’d seen the entire thing. 

“I see you two are getting along.” She teased. 

“Oh shush.” You huffed, heat crawling up your face. 

“Come on, Y/N, would it be so terrible to fall in love and leave this town? When Namjoon feels ready, he said he’d be willing to leave as well.” She said. Your head whipped around to face her. 

“W-what?” 

Her gaze softened at you. She came over and put a hand on your shoulder. “I’d never leave you behind here, but please at least consider it.” You tore your body away in disgust. 

“Jisoo, You know I can’t just up and leave, even if I did find someone. I have to look after Lisa and make sure my father isn’t dead by the side of the road every night.” You hissed. 

“I know-”

You two were cut off by a sudden presence. Taehyung placed the money owed on the table and smoothed out his suit. He dipped his head to the both of you. 

“Thank you, Jisoo, Y/N.” He said politely. 

The way your name sounded on his tongue made you shiver. Your conversation was abruptly halted and you felt tongue-tied, all anger forgotten. 

“Y/N, care to go to the movies with me sometime this week?” He casually stated, shaking you from your stupor. You pointed bleakly at yourself while mouthing me? He smiled softly at your confusion. 

“Y-Yes, I’d love to.” Your shock came across. He loved the open display of emotions on your face, on everyone around here. It was so unlike the poker face everyone gave him in the business world. 

“Does...does Friday work?” You asked cautiously. Jisoo looked between the two of you, a smirk on her face. 

“I’ll do whatever works best for you, I have an open schedule.” 

“Great, then how about I meet you after my shift on Friday. I finish up at 6 P.M. then.” You said, your voice not quite timid, but not quite sure either. 

“Sounds great.” He then turned and left. Taehyung found himself smiling at the obvious nervousness on your face. He found your face invading his mind as he got into the car. You were an open book and he wanted to read everything he could. 

-

-

“Hey, I’m clocking out early!” You called to Jisoo. It had been four days since your mini fight with her and you two acted as if it didn’t happen. Jisoo just smiled as you grabbed your car keys and raced out the glass front door. 

“Have fun!” She shouted at you, hoping you heard her. You had only lied a little when you said your shift ended at 6 P.M. You actually got off around 5:30 P.M., but you decided to leave at 5 instead to get ready for your date. 

Was it a date? Some part of you hoped it was. Taehyung had shown up every day for lunch since that Monday. Then after the rush was over, you would sit and talk with him or you would clean tables and talk. You hadn’t found someone who matched your speed of dialogue since forever. Jisoo was alright, but she usually gushed about Namjoon or about the crowds that came through. You two never went out together outside of work. 

You started up your car and soon enough you were at your apartment. It was a small one bedroom flat that was on top of the barber shop in town. Inside, there was fading paint from when you first moved in and a small kitchenette in the corner. You doubted it could even be called a kitchen. There wasn’t even an oven. You had a toaster oven, but it wasn’t fancy or anything. There was a microwave, a small fridge wedged between two small cabinets, and, thank god, a dishwasher. You hurried past the mess in the sink and towards the small room in the back. The bedroom held a queen sized bed, you had insisted, and that left hardly any space. After a shower, you surveyed your options for outfits. You finally decided on a simple combination of blue jeans, a soft tan turtleneck sweater, and brown heeled boots. You brushed your hair thoroughly and pulled out your limited makeup supplies. You didn’t have much time to do anything besides be at the diner. Dates were nonexistent. 

It’s not that you thought yourself ugly, you just didn’t seem to catch anyone’s eye. You carefully applied light foundation and lip gloss. Then you attached a pair of hoop earrings to your ears. Your hands gripped the edge of the sink as you had a mini crisis. To put your hair up or not. Well, you decided to leave it down. After all, he saw you in your messy bun everyday. Your hair fell in waves a smile gracing your lips as you stared at your reflection. You had put effort into your appearance for the first time in months and...you felt pretty. Your hands unclenched themselves from the sink and now went to smooth the nonexistent wrinkles in your sweater. 

You checked the time, cursing as you realized it was almost 6 P.M. You grabbed your purse and flew out the door. Your heels clicked against the concrete stairs as you made your way downstairs. Then you saw him. 

He was leaning against his car, arms crossed as he waited for you. 

“Taehyung!” You called, waving to get his attention. His eyes flicked up to you, his face instantly lighting up at your appearance. 

“Y/N! You look stunning.” He complimented. It was true. Even in your waitress outfit you were stunning to him. Everyday he got to know you more and he was completely infatuated with you. He stepped to the side and opened the passenger door, holding your hand and helping you in. You chuckled at his princely behavior. Or maybe this was what it was supposed to be like? The last boy you tried with was in high school and he had been far from dashing or a prince charming. Very unlike Taehyung. 

“You look quite ravishing yourself.” You said teasingly. He shut the door and went around to the driver’s side. 

“Now, uh, I don’t actually know where the movie theater is.” He confessed, turning to you with a hesitant smile. You couldn’t help but giggle. The drive was then spent giving him directions to the movie theater which was on the outskirts of town. When he asked why, you shrugged and claimed it was the only building available at the time. 

As he pulled into the small parking lot of the theater, he glanced at your form beside him. You were looking out the window, no doubt surveying surroundings you’ve seen most of your life. 

“How’s your sister?” He asked gently. You let out a deep breath. Ever since you’d admitted your situation to him, he’d been careful about the subject. Maybe it was a downer, but you never spoke of your sister. 

In all honesty, you loved your sister, but you also held a certain anger toward her. You tense, at his question. Then you turned to him. He killed the engine and you sat in darkness and silence. The moon shone overhead. Your mind reeled back in time as you told him about your past visit. 

-

You opened the door quietly, not wanting to disturb Lisa. She could never sleep because of the pain. No one could figure out what was wrong with her. One day she just woke up with an unbearable pain and it spread throughout her body. When the doctors told you she was sleeping, you almost wanted to turn back around, not wanting to wake her, but they insisted that she would be happy you came. 

So now you sat next to her, holding her hand. Her eyes blinked open, but they didn’t register your presence. 

“Lisa, I’m here, your little sister is here.” You whispered, brushing a strand of hair off her forehead. “I miss you. I miss your smile. I won’t leave this town until you can leave with me. I’ve been...I’ve been saving money. Once you’re better you and I can get out of here.” You gripped her hand. “But you just got to get better before that. We can leave and never look back.” 

There was no response. She didn’t even stir. You felt tears gathering at the corners of your eyes. 

“You know, I’m still so angry with you. You forced me to stay here with you, then you left me.” Your voice broke. You were sure she couldn’t even hear you. “But, Lisa, please don’t leave me here alone.” you started sobbing. “Who will I be?” 

You swiped at your eyes, still not letting go of her hand. “I’m sorry I’m being so selfish right now. I love you so much. Just keep fighting.” You felt tired, your body was heavy. There was the smallest twitch of her hand in yours. It would be imperceptible to most people, but you felt it. You gasped and stood, leaning over her glossy eyes. “Lisa! Lisa can you hear me? I felt your-I felt your hand move. I know you can hear me. I love you, you have to know that. It doesn’t matter if I’m mad at you or who I’ll be, because I’m no one without you. I’ll always love you.” 

You watched, looking for a sign of movement. But there was none. Just the quiet beeping of the heart monitor. 

-

You repeated the event, stopping before your long monologue. “So basically, she moved. I felt it. But she didn’t after that.” You frowned. “Sorry, this is too depressing for a first date.”

He held a hand up, looking guilty. “No, no, I asked the question, so...” Then he smiled widely. “And this is a date?” He was just messing with you. Of course he knew this was a date, but he loved watching you flush a deep red. 

“I-I mean it doesn’t have to be!” You stuttered out nervously. “I just thought, you know, because movies, and and and-” You rambled. 

“Do you want it to be?” He tilted his head slightly, leaning across the barrier between you two. A few inches and his lips could be on yours. 

“Yes.” You breathed softly. You wanted to desperately close the distance, even he seemed to falter for a moment. He took note of the distance and then the look in your eye. His gaze flickered to your lips and you thought he just might lean in to kiss you, but he pulled away with a smirk instead. You felt your heart drop and then flutter. 

“Then it is.” He opened the door and went around to help you out. You were still shocked. What just happened? Taehyung was a mystery to you. You stepped out of the car, trying to stop your legs from shaking. You were nervous, but you hoped he would think it was because of the cold. Before you could take another step, he took your hand in his and led the way. You felt your heart stop and your cheeks flushed red once again. Why couldn’t you get your act together around him? He made you feel both comfortable and nervous. 

You followed behind him as he went up to the ticket booth. A very bored looking teenage boy who looked to be asleep. Taehyung dropped your hand and you instantly missed his warmth as he pulled out his wallet. 

“Two, please, for Mulan.” He said to the ticket boy. The boy nodded lazily, pulling out two tickets. As he went to pay you suddenly shot your hand out. 

“Wait, I can pay for my ticket.” You said hurriedly. You didn’t want him paying for you because you always felt bad when people paid for your things. It made you feel guilty. 

“It’s okay, Y/N.” He raised an eyebrow. 

“I know, but Tae, I just feel guilty otherwise.” Tae. The name had slipped out of your mouth before you could even think. His gaze softened and he nodded, understanding your words.

“Okay.” He relented. “How about I pay for the tickets and you pay for concessions?” He spoke like a businessman. Then you remembered that he was a businessman. He must have caught his tone as well. It was a tone he used when bargaining with clients and partners. There was a certain kindness to it, but also something that said and that’s that. 

You nodded furiously to his suggestion and he shot you a smile before turning around and paying. Once inside, you ordered a large popcorn and a soda. Taehyung ordered a soda. 

“Are you sure you don’t want anything else?” You questioned. 

“No, it’s okay.” He said, placing his hands in his pockets. 

“How much were the tickets?” You narrowed your eyes. 

“$18. It’s really not a big deal.” 

“But Tae, This all only adds up to $15.” You gestured to the sodas and popcorn. Concessions in a small town will always be cheap. 

“And?”

“I’m not really holding up my end of the deal.” You protested. He sighed. 

“Y/N, it’s three dollars.” Taehyung held your soda as you handed it to him to find your wallet. 

“I know, I just,” You bit your lip and dug out $15, placing it on the counter before turning back around. “You know how I am.” 

You took back your drink and placed the popcorn under your arm as you made your way into the theater. There was...quite literally no one there except you two. It made you feel nervous, not because of him, but because of what he did to you without realizing it. He made your heart race, your legs shake, and you couldn’t get him out of your head. What would happen in a darkened room with just the two of you? 

Well, nothing really happened. The movie started up and you both seemed very intent on watching it, though about half way through, his arm went around your shoulder. And now you could no long focus on the movie. You could only focus on his warm arm around you and how you wanted it to stay there. You barely moved, worried he might move his arm then. Taehyung looked focused on the movie, but little did you know that he snuck glances at you when you weren’t looking at him. Yes, he wasn’t an idiot, he could feel you gawking at him. He found it endearing. He was honestly surprised you still hadn’t figured out who he was. Maybe tales of billionaire CEOs didn’t make it this far. Then he remembered his tale involved an arranged marriage to a woman that would not be you. He stiffened thinking of it. It wasn’t that he didn’t think Jennie was lovely, no, he had met her, she seemed fine, but he felt she would always regard him as a business partner. You talked to him like a normal person. What happens when she finds out? He thought to himself. 

Taehyung could feel the movie was ending soon. So he took a moment to study you once more, your face illuminated by the screen. You happened to look towards him as well. Your eyes connected and it felt like time stopped. You could get lost in those eyes. He leaned forward. 

“ Y/N.” He breathed, voice deep and husky. 

“Yes?” You whispered, leaning in as well. 

“You’re absolutely stunning.” He murmured. Then you closed the small space between you and him. Your lips moved against him, needy and soft. You stood from your seat moving to straddle him. 

“Tae.” You moaned against his lips. His hands placed themselves on your hips, keeping you in place. When you broke away, he had this devilish grin on his face. 

“Be mine, Y/N.” 

That took you off guard. Yes, he was an excellent kisser, but you felt like you barely knew him. He must have seen doubt flash across your face because he carefully placed a kiss on your cheek. 

“Please?” His lips moved against your skin. You found yourself pulling away. no matter how much you longed for his lips. 

“I barely know you.” You muttered. “Tell me one truthful thing about you.” You looked at him with doubt in your eyes. 

His smile seemed forced. “Alright. I’m Kim Taehyung. The billionaire CEO to Bangtan Inc.” 

Your face became pale. You had heard his name before. You remembered him from somewhere. You could have easily fallen in love with him, but how had he kept this secret from you? You could understand it in the beginning, but you had gotten to know him so well. He knew everything about your life, you knew nothing about his. You were strangers. You jumped up, smoothing down your rumpled sweater. Panic raced through your veins. What had you done? You weren’t supposed to be anyone and you didn’t want to be caught up in a scandal. You found yourself rushing out the door. That’s the thing with everyone in your family. When you have a conflict, you run. The only constant in your life had been this goddamn town. 

“Y/N wait!” He ran after you. He grasped your wrist, halting you. No man had ever run after you once you’d run away. “You asked me, a long time ago, that you hoped I found something important here. Well, I did. I found you.” He breathed. The sight of his lips so close to yours drove you crazy. You craved his touch, despite your better judgement. 

“So what? You make out with me once and think I’ll be yours? I didn’t even know you were a billionaire, not that that changes anything, but Tae, jesus, this was important information. It’s terrifying how easily you hid it from me. What other things do I not know?” Then you remembered where you heard his name before and you felt your stomach drop. He stopped himself from moving towards you, know you had just realized what he didn’t want you to. You remembered him as the title of an article. An article that talks about his new fiance. You felt sick. You wanted to get his touch off your skin, wipe his kiss from your lips. “You’re engaged.”

His face instantly dropped. “No, Y/N, I don’t want to be engaged with her, it’s arranged.” He pleaded, trying to explain. 

“That doesn’t change anything! You may not like it, but you need to be faithful to her!” You were keeping yourself from hyperventilating. “I refuse to be a homewrecker. I’m just some girl from a ghost town.” You turned around, ripping your arm from his grasp and crossing your arms as you walked away down the street. Your head bent down, heels clicking on the pavement, as you tried not to cry. “Please just forget about me and go back home to your fiance.”

“You make me feel normal. Please, I don’t love her, Y/N.”

“And you think I love you?!” You practically screeched before sprinting away as fast as possible in your boots. 

-

-

There was a soft knock on your door. Your apartment was dark save for the TV which was currently airing the wedding preparations for Kim Taehyung and Kim Jennie. You felt your heart falter seeing his face for the first time in a while. He looked so unhappy, but you shooed away the possibility that it was about you. You couldn’t get him out of your mind and it only became harder every day. 

“Go away!” You said hoarsely, pulling another tissue out for your unending stream of tears. You still couldn’t believe that had happened to you. 

“It’s me, Jisoo. I just wanted to know if you’re coming for your shift today? It’s okay if you’re not, I understand it’s hard.” Jisoo had been extraordinarily kind to you since the incident and she had no reason to be. “I tried to text, but you’re not answering your phone.” 

You checked your phone. Indeed, there were three missed calls and a couple texts from her all dated to an hour ago. 

“Ah, Sorry, Jisoo.” You called, slowly getting up and opening the door a crack. “I don’t think I have the strength.” You admitted weakly. You felt like you had no strength. Like when Taehyung left, he took a huge chunk of you with him. 

“Listen, Y/N.” She gently peered into your face, studying your tear streaked cheeks. “There’s someone you might want to see. He’s at the diner.” 

Your heart stopped and you knew it must be him. You slowly nodded. “I’ll be there.”

-

-

It was busy, as always. At least with the crowds you could keep your mind off of who you were really waiting to see come through that door. As you helped the last customer of the rush out the door, you spotted a familiar black porsche pull up. You felt your breath quicken and your eyes stayed locked on the car. The man you had been waiting to see stepped out and it almost broke your heart all over again. He made eye contact with you and you could tell he was just as shocked. He visibly stiffened, eyes widening. You felt tears brimming, threatening to pour out. You couldn’t bring yourself to look away. You wish you had. Those eyes, like galaxies and pools of obsidian you could get lost in, turned and opened the passenger door. 

And out came a beautiful woman you could only guess was Jennie. You were moving before you could even think. You threw down the menus in your hand, eyes flicking over to the booth he used to sit at, and pulled your hair out of your bun. Without saying anything to Jisoo, you ran out the back door. You could hear two people calling your name. Jisoo. And Taehyung. 

You rushed out the back door, hyperventilating. Those eyes, those hands, that mouth. You couldn’t bear to see them again. He made you fall in love with him and then he left. 

“Y/N!” That deep voice had the hairs on the back of your neck stand tall. 

“Taehyung.” Your voice sounded weak and bitter. 

“Long time no see.” He offered painfully. 

“A long time indeed.” You whispered, facing him full on. He was just as handsome as you remembered him to be a few months ago. His eyes peered into yours, trying to convey a million words. I need you. I miss you. I love you. And you felt that piercing stare. 

“Tae, I never told you but-” You were cut off by another female voice. Her tone was laced with concern, but her eyes looked suspiciously between you and Taehyung. 

“Tae.” She said sweetly. “What’s wrong?” Then she turned to fully take you in. “And who’s this?” Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly. 

Taehyung looked at you, then his gaze flickered over to Jennie. “She’s no one important, Love.” He turned and grabbed her hand, dragging her back into the store and breaking you in two once more. 

There goes the last great American dynasty Who knows, if she never showed up, what could've been?

...... She had a marvelous time ruining everything

[downwiththeficness]

In the Bond-Chapter 2

Summary: Lilah often wished she’d never said yes to working with the Gecko brothers—usually while dodging gunfire. At no time was she regretting that decision more than when she’s hanging upside down from the ceiling, staring down a group of hungry culebras and one (1) extremely powerful sun god.

Word Count: ~2,300

Warnings: None

A/N: This is an AU of my Story In the Blood, which can be read here. Basically, this fic explores what would have happened if Lilah had met up with Geckos before she met Brasa.

Taglist: @symbiont13

Start from the beginning   Next Chapter   Read on AO3   Masterlist

Lilah slid into a chair and regarded the lovers. Kate was sitting in Richie’s lap, rolling her eyes as he pressed intermittent kisses on her cheeks and neck. She’d grown used to their easy affection since the brothers had saved Kate from Amaru. For the first few days, Richie had hardly let go of Kate’s hand, would go where she went, snarling at anyone who came a little too close. Even now, he didn’t go very long without touching her, no matter the situation—a hand on her thigh, a the small of her back, toying with her hair. Kate seemed to take it all in stride, a soft smile that somehow made her look impossibly young.

It was Kate’s eyes that Lilah noticed first when she’d stepped through the doors of Jackknife Jed’s.  They flashed with gloom, aging her in a way that in no way reflected in her actual face. Looking at her made Lilah feel so disjointed that she still struggled to hold the younger woman’s gaze. Still, despite the unease, Lilah liked Kate. She certainly made dealing with the ever-arguing brothers just a little bit easier. Lilah couldn’t so easily be out-voted any more, and that was worth the disquiet she sometimes felt in Kate’s presence.

The door to the office flung open, Seth barreling through with no regard for how it hit the shelf behind it, a few of Richie’s knickknacks shaking in their stands. He was wiping sweat from his brow, his ever present frown just a little deeper than normal. Lilah’s eyes narrowed as she watched him come closer.

“Hey, watch the merchandise,” Richie called out, one hand lifting from around Kate’s middle to gesture broadly at the memorabilia.

Fandom was the one thing that Lilah and Richie really agreed on. They’d spent a lot of time on stake outs talking Star Trek, and then Firefly, followed by a whole host of niche geeky topics. He was surprisingly insightful about the little details that made each show unique. And, Lilah had spent a lot of time in hotels watching old B horror movies to be able to hold her own when he went down a rabbit hole.  It made the fact that she disagreed with him about the tenants of Jedi life acceptable, in his mind.

“We’ve got bigger problems than Obi Wan’s lightsaber, Richie.”

Seth was definitely in a mood. He might not understand Richie’s interests, and he might roll his eyes when his brother went on a tangent about canon timelines, but he at least respected Richie’s belongings enough that he didn’t intentionally screw around with them. This, whatever it was, was serious. Lilah eyed him narrowly, waiting.

Eyes vaguely betrayed, Richie muttered, “Its Mace Windu.”

Kate patted Richie’s arm lightly, saying, “What’s the problem?”

Rounding his desk, Seth sat heavily. After a deep sigh, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, tossing it on the desk in front of him. It bounced, making a soft ‘shhh’ sound as it slid across the pressed wood of the tabletop.

“We got a message today,” he explained, “And I don’t know what to make of it.”

Lilah leaned forward and plucked it up with two fingers. The paper was a heavy vellum, thick woven. She unfolded it, curious. The ink was a deep red, the lettering thick. As she brought it closer to read, Lilah caught a fragrance that had followed her in the weeks since their last failed mission.

Oh, no.

The letter was meticulously worded. The writing thick and bold, swirling softly around the crosses. Formal. Elegant. Commanding. Brasa.

Lilah read and re-read it, “He’s asking for peace.”

She looked at Seth, brows lifted in surprise. Then, she stood, stepped to Richie’s desk, and handed it to the younger brother. All the while, she tried to keep her face as neutral as possible. Lilah was grateful that Seth never bothered with the overhead lights, that only the lamps on either desk illuminated the room.  Her face was hot, her hands shaking. She didn’t know how to stand so as to draw no attention to herself while she internally panicked.

“He’s playing a game,” Seth said as he opened a drawer in his desk, pulling out a bottle, yanking out the stopper, and drinking straight from it. “Its a trap.”

Richie took a few moments to read the letter before Kate took it from him. She stood and read it, as well. Lilah watched her face, trying to discern her reaction. Kate chewed her thumbnail as her eyes flicked over the page, her brows together. A shadow passed over her expression.

“No,” Kate uttered so low that Lilah almost didn’t hear it, “He’s really asking for peace.”

Lilah didn’t have the time to think about how she might know that, or the implications. Or, how she might feel about those implications.

Seth scoffed, “How the fuck do you know that?”

Setting the letter down on Richie’s desk, Kate shrugged, “I spent a lot of time with him when I was...when she was inside me.” She sniffed, “Even though Amaru thought they were bullshit, he obeys the old laws. This is a formal call for peace talks. He’s written it in his own blood.”

Lilah felt her eyes widen, shocked that Kate could tell whose blood was on the paper. Shocked even further that someone would write a letter in their literal blood. Shocked still further that she cared how he might have procured his own blood in enough supply to write such a letter.

There were a few side effects from Kate’s possession, little quirks that Kate would sometimes display without really thinking. She’d stand up way too fast, know who might walk through the door next, hear conversations from the next room. Lilah did her best to just roll with it, but this was a little bit too freaky for Lilah’s normal ‘roll with it’ sensibilities. She deliberately set it aside, hoping that she wouldn’t need to examine the thought later.

Richie lit a cigarette, blowing the smoke through his nose, “Why now? We’ve spent the last six months fighting and killing each other, and now he wants to talk peace.”

Lilah sat down, folding her hands in her lap as she tried very hard not to think this was about her. She could not be so self-centered as to think that Brasa would give up a war just because she happened to be on the other side. A war he was, by all accounts, winning as the Gecko’s ceded more and more territory to the culebras he seemed to govern.  There had to be another explanation. A trap, maybe, a false sense of security.

“Alright,” Seth drawled, “We get him in a room and gank him.”

Kate gasped, looking horrified, “We have a chance to get real progress, here. Do you want to fight forever?”

Lilah definitely knew the answer to that question. Seth’s entire life was a fight—physical or otherwise. He wasn’t comfortable if there wasn’t some sort of conflict to battle through, his brother at his side. Even if they achieved peace, he’d be at someone’s throat within twenty four hours. It was both endearing and utterly frustrating to watch him cycle through the same motions over and over.

Seth rose, leaning his hands on the desk, “You, more than anyone, have a reason to want every one of those snakes dead.”

Sneering, Kate crossed her arms, “I, more than anyone, have a reason to want all of this to stop. I don’t want to see any more death.”

Behind her, Richie shifted uneasily in his chair. Lilah took each of them in, knowing there was far more history than she was privy to playing out right in front of her. It left her feeling like she couldn’t make a good decision, didn’t have enough data to create a strategy. This was not her preferred method of moving through life. She remained still, waiting.

“We should meet with him,” Kate asserted, hip cocking to the side.

It was not a rare occasion that Kate would insist that they act in a certain way. She had a strong moral compass that clashed with the brothers’ more criminal predilections. More often than not, Kate centered them, kept them from going too far. Lilah was grateful. She had never been successful in stemming off their momentum, once they got started.

“Absolutely not,” Seth shot back, his mouth a firm line.

Lilah surprised herself by adding, “I agree with Seth.”

Richie stubbed out his cigarette, “I’m with Kate.”

This was not surprising. Richie tended to side with Kate on most things. Lilah caught the look he sent Kate, though Kate was still looking at Seth. His eyes were following the line of her petite body, admiring in a way that made Lilah look away, embarrassed.

Seth circled his desk, leaning his hip against it, “Two against two. How’re we going to break the tie?”

There was a beat of silence, then Richie stood and offered up his fist, “Best out of three?”

When Richie beat Seth two to one, Seth gave him a hardy ‘fuck you’ and strode from the room. Richie heaved a beleaguered sigh and followed him. Lilah dropped her head in her hands, boggled by the decision making skills of her partners. Rock, paper scissors...honestly.

“Why don’t you want to meet with them?”

Lilah lifted her eyes at the question, feeling her chest constrict, “I won’t have to do the actual meeting, Kate.” Lie, lie, lie, Lilah, “I just don’t think we’ll be successful.”

Kate tilted her head to the side, “You think its a trap?”

Lilah grabbed onto that line of thinking. It was logical, far more logical than ‘No, Kate. I just don’t want to meet up with someone who claims I am his bondmate and with whom I have exchanged blood’. Even in her head, it sounded so incredibly stupid. Not to mention the fact that she’d been hiding it long enough that admitting it would only lead to suspicion.

“I think Seth is too hot headed,” Lilah clarified quickly, “I think that it’ll fall apart before it even gets started.”

There, that was a convincing lie that was pretty grounded in enough truth that even Lilah half believed it. She very carefully did not study Kate’s face to see if the lie had landed.

Kate moved closer, her ancient gaze peering at Lilah carefully, “You’re right.”

Oh. Okay.

“Thank you.”

“You need to go with them.”

Ah, fuck.

“What?”

Kate nodded, her expression hardening, “You go with them, keep things level, make this work.”

“Me?” Lilah didn’t like how high her voice came out. She cleared her throat, “No, you know them better than I do. You go. Bring me whatever contract they draw up, I’ll red line it, make sure its fair.”

That was her role. Look over the game plan, find the flaws, work out the kinks. In that, Lilah was comfortable and safe. No need to put herself back in a room with Brasa. No need to let this get even more out of hand. No need for the messiness that would come from that.

Shaking her head, Kate took a step back, “I can’t. I can’t face him. What I did to him was,” she searched for words, “terrible.”

The sudden turn of Kate’s tone, the way her face screwed up in real disgust, made Lilah sit up and stake notice. Where had this come from?

She inhaled, trying to parse the words, “What does that mean?”

Kate’s eyes were focused on the middle distance, her mouth quivering, “Amaru loved torture, all kinds of torture. She didn’t care who it was that she hurt. I—she liked,” Another breath, “Brasa was blood bound to her, she could make him do things, do anything. She never got her hands dirty, but him…”

Lilah waited for more, but Kate simply stopped speaking. She looked shell shocked, tears welling up. God, but Lilah had been completely fooled by Kate’s frequent smiles and clear headedness. She hadn’t known how much trauma the hell queen had put Kate through, hadn’t even thought that Kate was conscious of the things that she’d done while trapped inside her own body. Moved to action, she stood and embraced Kate, saying to her the only comfort she could think to give.

“Its the past. And, it wasn’t you.” Then, “Are you still blood bound?”

She felt like real shit for asking, but she needed to know what Brasa’s relationship was with Kate, and if it would make their own relationship (did they even have a relationship?) more complicated. Kate made a soft sound in the negative and Lilah let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. That was one complication she had, thankfully, avoided.

Kate’s body was taut, “When she first brought me back, when I met him, I felt the power I had over him. And, she abused it. I drained him dry that first night, to regain her strength. After three days, when he managed to stand up off the ground, she did it again. Because she could.” Kate pulled back and looked at Lilah, “That wasn’t even the worst of it. How can I look him in the eye after all that?”

Lilah shook her head, “Like I said, it wasn’t you. And, if he really wants to talk peace, he’ll set it aside. If not, fuck ‘im.”

That, at least, was the truth. Lilah had been fighting his kind of less than a year and she was tired of it. She wanted peace. She wanted to go on nice, normal jobs—jewel theft, a bank heist, possibly even some fine art that they could sell on the black market. Stuff that was in her wheelhouse, in her comfort zone. If he was going to hold Kate responsible for the actions of Amaru, then he wasn’t worth negotiating with. Full stop.

Kate loosed a soundless laugh, “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

[tf2-headcanons-and-scenarios]

Mercs receiving a cool-down hug from s/o?(you can decide what pissed them off in the first place)

A/N: This was certainly a treat to make, hope you enjoy these!! 💕

Scout:

- You began noticing Scout’s frustration on the battlefield after being sent through respawn a few times, though you didn’t think much of it at first

- However, Spy’s laughter along with the domination fanfare made it obvious that Scout was being owned by the opposition, specifically the enemy Scout

- Over and over again did you witness Scout going through respawn, more times than you could actually count that very round

- Engi said his respawn count ticked over 100 just as the round ended

- Despite winning the round, you didn’t see Scout celebrating with the rest of the team afterwards, so you went to look for him

- You found him bouncing his baseball against the wall, throwing the poor thing with a lot of force

- That was was definitely going to become dented

- You sat beside him and asked him what was wrong, to which he details his entire disaster of being dominated by a Scout just as annoying and cocky as him

- He told you that what really pissed him off was when he started weaving you into his trash talking

- Ridiculous things such as “Heh, looks like I’m the one that should be dating [y/n] from now on!” or “If [y/n] were to see you now they’d start falling in love with me instead!”

- As childish as the insults were, they really got to him and he couldn’t keep his cool for the entire round

- You didn’t know what to say so you brought him close for a comfort hug

- He was caught off-guard at first but it didn’t take long for him to hug you back tightly

- You boy stayed like that for a while and he eventually calmed down

- He’ll never admit that your hugs remind him of home

Soldier:

- It was easy to pinpoint when Soldier was growing angry, usually he’d start yelling at the top of his lungs and try to murder the hell out of the person/people that pushed him over the edge

- If someone on your team pissed him off, he’d make life for that person living hell until he either forgets about it or another poor soul manages to piss him off

- That poor soul so happened to be almost everyone on the entire team when they began to lose ground pushing the cart

- He was holding Scout up by the throat and pinned Pyro to the ground with his foot when you and Medic stepped in to intervene

- He was itching for blood and a bloody fight, nothing was going to calm him down anytime soon

- Heavy eventually restrained him and set him on top of the cart so he can still help push the bloody thing

- You sat on top of it with him as he kept trying to yell and fight absolutely everyone around him

- You try to tall reason into him but words seem to be the last thing he wants to hear, so you try the next best thing and hug him

- He froze and tried to shake you off at first, still boiling with anger, but he eventually quietened down and tried to get away from you less and less

- As Scout puts it, you managed to ‘tame the beast’ with a mere hug

- Soldier wouldn’t mind getting angry again if it meant you could hug him again. That being said, he was convinced for a while that you’ll only hug him if he’s angry

- He does try to get angry all the time for hugs from you

- You eventually remind him that hugs from you are infinite no matter what the circumstances are

Pyro:

- It comes down to Pyro’s body language to tell if they’re angry, happy, sad etc.

- It takes a while for you to notice, but you figured out they were not having a very good day when they walked out of respawn visibly shaking from anger, growling behind their gas mask as they march back to the front lines

- You didn’t really know what had happened until you witness Pyro protecting your fellow Engineer’s nest but dying to a very cocky Spy who never sapped the buildings, instead opting to pester and target only Pyro

- You never did see that Spy at the end of the round, you don’t know why

- When the round was over, you tried to find Pyro to see if they were alright, only to find them burning the bodies left behind by the enemy team as they all went through respawn

- They were violently shaking from anger, and they were verbally growling in frustration

- When you tried to approach them, they turned around, grabbed you and almost threw you into the fire when they snapped out of their rage for a few seconds

- This gave you the time to wrap them up in a hug and whisper comforting words into their ear through the gas mask

- They stopped shaking from anger and started shaking from crying, and they held onto you tightly, as if letting go was going to send them back to moments ago

- From that moment forward, anytime they begin to feel frustrated or angry, they seek you out for a hug

- They really believe your hugs work like magic, they make all the bad things go away

- If they have to wait for you to respawn for a quick hug, so be it

Demoman:

- Most of the time, if Demoman gets pissed off, he’d usually drink it away until it didn’t bother him anymore

- Even if he became drunk on the battlefield, so long as it meant he wasn’t feeling the absolute shit-fest that was being dominated by an enemy then he’ll drink until the cows come home

- However, you notice him trying to drink his anger away and failing miserably during a round of CTF in 2Fort

- Turns out some enemy Engineer was dishing out the dirt on absolutely everyone on your team, throwing insults and taunts at everyone who crossed his path

- Particularly this Texan asshole jabbed at Demo’s history of drinking, poor choices and his lost eye. As an added cherry on top, the enemy Engi threw you into that pile too

- “I don’t know who to feel sorry for: You for your lack of fighting skills, or ya girlfriend for dating your sorry drunk ass.”

- Demo was just feeling like shit to the point he was really pissed off

- In an attempt to comfort him, you bring him into a gentle and cautious hug, unsure if it was the best course of action to take

- Your shoulders relax when he returns the hug and clings to you as you rub soothing circles into his back and kiss his cheek and forehead

- Afterwards you accompany him to help get revenge on the enemy Engineer

- Let’s just say that it was a lot of fun for the both of you, not so much for the Engineer

Heavy:

- When this man is angry, he’s angry in one of two ways

- Either he mows down the entire enemy team with his mini-gun with no mercy or sense of control

- Or he stays silent, keeps to himself, avoids everyone like the plague and stays locked up in his room for hours on end without speaking to anyone else

- You catch him alone in his room reading a book in Russian one day after a fight ensued between the team

- Heavy, as you remembered, was one of the main participants in the argument and as much as he tried to keep his cook throughout the entire ordeal, you knew that Scout was never going to give up

- He notices your presence and instead of motioning for you to leave, he motions for you to come sit with him to read together

- You sit beside him and he gives you a book in English, and you both sit in awkward silence together reading in his room

- Eventually you break the silence by asking if he was ok. He doesn’t respond to you in words but he nods at the question

- You lean over and wrap your arms around him apologising for the mess that was the fight, at least what you had been guilty of doing/dating during the argument

- He lets out a sigh and holds you close, giving you gentle pats on the back. Heavy feels himself relaxing more and feeling less frustrated than before because of the hug

- He invites you to sit close to him as he translates his book into English for you to understand

- You both cool off completely reading Russian literature together, and he even teaches you a few new sentences in Russian

Engineer:

- Engineer is more on the verbal side of the coin whenever he’s angry. The only physical things he’s done while angry were throwing tools down on the ground or kicking broken machinery

- There was no round going on when you and the rest of the team hear something breaking, followed by the not-so-sweet melody of a Texan swearing throughout the base from his workshop

- You and a few of the mercs go and see what had happened, finding Engineer cursing at a teleporter that lay in pieces

- Eventually everyone but you left the area, and you step towards him to ask what had happened

- He told you that the teleporters were having a difficult time keeping themselves running, and hat he tried to fix them to no sort of avail

- He grabbed his hat and threw it down to the ground, kicking the broken bits of the teleporter and he roughly grabbed his blueprints and moved to work on it again

- You pick the pieces up and place them by the work bench before moving behind the Texan and giving him a comforting hug

- He tenses up at first before sighing and leaning into your gentle touch that he loves so dearly

- He apologises for the mess and making you concerned, giving you a hug in return

- He still is angry, just not as much now that you’re here

- You both spend the rest of the day fixing the teleporter

Medic:

- This man tends to hide the fact that he’s frustrated by getting himself busy with absolutely anything he can

- If there were no opportunities to experiment on a team member, he’d either feed his birds or write up medical reports he has yet to finish

- You find him feeding his doves late in the evening after overhearing the amount of headaches the German received from Scout and Soldier

- You didn’t know much of the details, but whatever it was that they did severely pissed of Medic

- You approach Medic and ask him for his side of the incident and he brushes you off, saying that he’s fine etc.

- You don’t buy his bullshit for a second but you don’t insist on any answers until he was willing to talk

- You give him a gentle hug to calm him down and you hear him let out a big sigh

- He calms down enough to tell you what happened, and you listen to him while petting Archimedes in your hands

- Eventually you both start discussing various other subjects to lighten the mood, the base filling up with laughter echoing from Medic’s lab

- He honestly believes you help him calm down after a stressful day, which means he goes to you if he’s feeling stressed or aggravated

- You help him extract revenge on Soldier and Scout the following morning

- Let’s just say Soldier and Scout scores leave on account of medical issues

Sniper:

- When he’s angry he’s silent full stop, and he grows a lot more distant from everyone around him

- In-Battle he just starts missing some of his shots if he’s angry, outside of battle he just drives off somewhere to cool off by himself for a few hours

- You managed to catch him before he left the base one evening after a disagreement ensued between the Australian and Spy

- You try to encourage him back to base instead of driving off somewhere but he doesn’t want to get out of the car and he tells you to either get in with him or go back to base

- You jump into the passenger seat of the car, much to Sniper’s surprise, and the both of you drive in awkward silence out to the middle of nowhere

- You follow him to the top of the van where he’s watching the stars above, his face in a scowl

- Both of you sit in silence until you reach over to hug him

- He tenses up at first but gives in and wraps an arm around you, understanding the intentions of your sudden hug

- You both sit in comfortable silence Star-gazing, and he calms down

- Since then, he offers to take you out Star-gazing every now and then, and hugs become a bit more frequent especially if he’s feeling frustrated

Spy:

- For Spy, much like most of the other mercs, he’d either make life for the person/people who pissed him off living hell or he’d retreat to his Smoking Room to be alone with his anger

- You went looking for the French mercenary after coming back from a trip to town, and found him drinking and smoking in his Smoking Room

- It didn’t take a genius to determine that he had another fight with Scout

- You invite yourself inside and you receive the unwelcoming cold shoulder from Spy, the both of you sitting in silence as he tries to calm himself down

- You break the silence by asking him what went wrong and he tells you to leave before he sends you through respawn

- Despite threatening you to leave, you knew better and stayed put, even going as bold as hugging him because no amount of words was going to get through to him

- He tries to push you away, spilling his beverage onto the floor, but you cling onto him and persist

- Eventually he stops fighting you in case you got hurt, and he began to sink into your embrace

- He won’t admit it to you, but he reckons your hug was what he needed after the headache that was Scout being a dick

- He invites you to stay in the Room, offering you a drink as he turns on some music

- He keeps you close for the rest of the evening, he wants to keep holding you in his arms and he wants to be held by your embrace as he finally calms down

[novannna]

Our Love is a Supernova

For the second day of wlw week, i wrote a novissa one-shot.  they go stargazing together, and ✨stuff✨ happens

wc: 2085

Nova tossed the pebble up and down in her hand.  It was round, and smooth.  The speckled gray surface was cool against her warm skin.  

Nova pulled her arm back, then hurled the stone at the window above her.  

It clacked loudly against the glass, then fell down to the ground below. 

Someone threw the window open, and looked around wildly, looking for the source of the noise.  

Nova grinned, and waved at the lanky red haired girl.  

Narcissa sighed, and shook her head.  

“Really?”  She mouthed.  

“Sorry,” Nova mouthed back.  “Come here.”

“I can’t.  My grandpa.”

“He’s asleep. I made sure of it.”

Narcissa gawked.  She held up her finger, and pulled the window back down, disappearing into the darkness of her room.

“Did you really put my grandfather to sleep?”  An annoyed voice asked.  

Nova grinned.  “Hey ‘Cissa.  I’ve missed you!”

The ginger haired girl raised her eyebrows.  She stood next to a large mirror Nova had brought up to the rooftop ages ago.  It was fractured in spots, and filthy, but it worked.  Narcissa could travel through it.  That was all that mattered.  

“You put my fucking grandfather to sleep.  Do you have any idea how risky that was?”

“Hey Nova, good to see you too Nova,”  Nova muttered under her breath.  

Narcissa groaned.  “I missed you too.  Now what are you doing here?”

“I’m bored, you're bored, let's do something!”  Nova said exuberantly.  

“How do you know I was bored.”  

Nova shrugged.  “You weren’t with me, so you must have been.”

Narcissa chuckled softly.  “Okay then.  What are we doing?”  

Nova’s eyes lit up.  “I want to show you something!  Come on!” Nova beckoned for Narcissa to follow wildly, and darted across the rough rooftop.  

---

Narcissa followed Nova as she led her to an uninhabited part of Gatlon.  They stopped in front of an old office building, stretching up to the sky.  

“This is what you wanted to show me?”  Narcissa didn’t bother hiding her disdain.  

Nova sighed.  “No.  What I want to show you is at the top.  Now hurry up, we don’t have all night.”  She raced inside the old building, and started sprinting up the staircase, Narcissa close behind.  

They ran up, the stairs creaking and shifting under their weight but never falling.  Narcissa couldn’t help feeling scared when the railing she grabbed fell down to the ground, or a patch of concrete was just missing entirely, but Nova didn’t seem fazed.  Of course she wasn’t.  This was Nova.  Nothing bothered her.  Nothing scared her.  She was unstoppable. Narcissa had known her for ages, but she had never seen Nova display any emotion but happiness, boredom or just no emotion at all.  That was the way Nova was.  Nothing bothered her the way things bothered everyone else.   Or, at least she didn’t show that she was bothered.  

They emerged at the top of the stairway.  The roof had mostly fallen away, exposing the night sky high above.  Old desks and chairs were scattered across the room.  

Narcissa leaned against the doorway, trying to catch her breath.  

Only a faint shimmer of sweat showed that Nova was affected at all.  Narcissa couldn’t help but notice how pretty Nova looked with her hair braided out of her sparkling brown eyes.  

“Is this what you wanted to show me?”  Narcissa gasped, still trying to regain her lost breath.  

Nova shook her head.  “Not quite.  We have to go a little bit more up.”  She jogged over to a fallen slab of roof, and scampered up.  It led to the exposed, crumbling roof top, and Narcissa approached the base cautiously.  

“Is it… is it safe?”  Narcissa asked.  

Nova shrugged.  “I guess?”

“Promising,” Narcissa shuddered.  “It’s your fault if I die.”

“Noted.  Now come on, it’s worth it.  I promise.”  Nova held her hand out to Narcissa who stood at the bottom of the slab still.  “I’ll keep you safe.”

Narcissa nodded tightly, and gulped.  Using both hands and feet, she slowly scaled the old roof.  When she was close enough, she grabbed onto Nova’s hand gratefully and hauled herself up the rest of the way.  

“Thank you,” Narcissa panted.  

“Of course.”  Nova grinned.  Noarcissa noticed a picnic blanket spread out before them.  

“What is this?”

Nova shrugged.  “I figured you’d be hungry.  I brought some food for us.”  

Narcissa smiled.  “Thank you!”

Nova blushed pink.  “It’s uh, it was no problem.  Now, sit!”  She plopped down, and patted the space on the blanket next to her.  “This is what I wanted to show you.”

“Gatlon?  I’ve seen this before Nova.  It’s not that pretty.”  Narcissa cautiously sat down.  She was intimately aware of the space between their hands.  

Nova sighed heavily.  “I know that idiot.  We didn’t come all the way up here for Gatlon.  We came here for the stars.  Look up.”

Narcissa tilted her head back, and gasped with awe.  “It’s amazing.”  The dark sky was studded with bright, shimmering diamonds.  The stars were plentiful here, their bright light shining down on the two girls.  

Nova nodded.  “We can see so many more here then we can from the library.  That’s why we came all the way out here.  Less light pollution.”    Nova laid down, and Narcissa soon followed.  The rock hard floor dug into her head, but she didn’t mind.  

“Which is your favourite constellation?”  Narcissa asked.  

“Hmm.”  Nova thought for a second.  “Probably Andromeda.  It’s named after the princess Andromeda who was sacrificed to Poseidon after her father said she was more beautiful than the Nereids.  She was chained to a rock, so a sea serpent could eat her, instead of it devouring the nation.”

“But didn’t she survive?”  Narcissa asked.  “I’ve read the myths.”

“She did, but to what life?  Does she really get a happy ending?”

“She marries, and gives birth to children.”

Nova’s nose automatically wrinkled.  “I like the story because it’s like mine.  I was forced into a place I don’t want to be because of someone else's actions, and now I’m stuck in a life I never wanted.”  Nova sighed heavily.    “It’s the one right there.”  She traced the star shape with her finger.  

“The one that looks like a little stick figure?”  Narcissa asked.  

Nova laughed, and nodded.  “Yeah.  That one.”

“Why do you like the stars so much?”  

“They remind me how small and unimportant I am.”

Narcissa laughed.  “That seems like a reason to hate them, not like them.”

Nova joined in with her own sweet laugh.  “I’m serious.  They remind me that no matter what I do, no matter what change I bring to Earth, it won’t really affect anything.”  Nova smiled softly.  “Did you know that each of those stars are billions and billions of miles away from Earth.  Some of them are probably already gone.  Exploded in some ancient supernova.  But their light still shines.  It will for a while.”  Nova turned her head to Narcissa.  “These stars are ancient.  By the time the light coming off them right now actually reaches us, the damage I do to Earth will be ancient history.  No matter how big I screw up, in the scheme of things, it doesn’t matter.”

“Wow.  That’s deep.  Y’know, I was thinking something along the lines of ‘Oh, they’re pretty, and very cool to look at,’” Narcissa giggled.  

Nova playfully shoved her, giggling along.  “Are you hungry?”  

“Not really,” Narcissa, but sat up anyways.  “Nova, can I ask you something?”

Nova nodded.  “Of course ‘Cissa.”

Narcissa inhaled deeply.  “Was this a date?”

Nova paused for a second.  “That depends.  Do you want it to be?”  

Narcissa thought about it.  Did she really want to be with Nova like that?  They were friends, but did Narcissa like her like that?  “Yeah,” Narcissa murmured softly.  “I would like this to be a date.”

Nova smiled.  “Then it's a date.”  She grabbed Narcissa’s face with her strong hands, and kissed Narcissa firmly.  

Every single nerve screamed.  It felt like Narcissa was burning up.  But not in a bad way.  It felt like pure, utter bliss.  Narcissa melted under Nova’s touch.  

It felt like Narcissa was a star in a supernova.  It felt like she was both dying, and living more brightly than ever before at the same time.  Narcissa leaned forwards into Nova, and wrapped her arms around her waist.  

When they finally broke apart, the fire vanished, leaving Narcissa hollow and empty.  

“I think,” Narcissa whispered, “I want dates more often.”

Nova laughed.  “Me too.  Every night if I could.”

“What’s stopping you?”

“Absolutely nothing.”  Nova rubbed Narcissa’s hands.  “Will you be my girlfriend, Narcissa Cronin?”

Narcissa nodded, giddy with happiness.  “Of course I will, Nova Artino.”

“We can’t tell your grandfather or any of the Anarchists,” Nova warned.  

Narcissa looked down.  “I know,” she said sadly.  

“They would make it so we wouldn’t be able to see each other again.  They don’t want me getting distracted, or losing focus.”

“Do you want to get distracted?”

“If it’s you distracting me, then definitely,” Nova smirked.  

“Good,” Narcissa breathed.  “Because I am excellent at distracting people.”  She kissed Nova’s lips again, her heart thudding in her ears.  

“You most certainly are.  I could be distracted all day.”

Narcissa’s face fell.  “But you can’t. We can’t.  In the day… we have lives to go back to.  People we can’t leave alone.”  

Nova squeezed her hand.  “Hey, that’s the day.  The night’s are ours.  We can do whatever we want, be whoever we want to be.”

“I don’t want to be anyone,” Narcissa said.  “I just want to be with you.  That’s all I want.”

“I want that too.  I want that so much.  More than almost anything.”

“Almost?”

Nova sighed.  “You see that darker cluster of buildings?”  She asked, pointing at Gatlon.  Narcissa nodded.  “For the first 6 years of my life, I lived there.  Until a man broke in, and killed my parents, and my sleeping baby sister.  Evie.”  Nova’s hands dug into Narcissa’s.  “The Renegades were supposed to come.  They promised.  They promised.  But they never showed up.  They let my family die.  So I’m going to kill them for doing that to me.”  Nova’s voice was thick with tears.  “I can’t let them hurt more people again.”  

“Oh Nova…” Narcissa threw her arms around the girl, and hugged her tightly.  “I had no idea.  I’m so, so sorry.”

Nova shrugged.  “It was a long time ago.”

“Still…”  Narcissa tried to imagine that, but couldn’t.   She never really knew her parents.  Her grandpa never really talked about it with her.  She never missed them.  Why would she?  Her grandfather loved her.  He took care of her.  He was enough.  But for Nova… Stars, that must have been terrible.  

“Shh,” Nova said.  “Let's talk about something else.”

“Okay.”  Narcissa snuggled close against Nova.  “what?”

Nova shrugged.  “I don’t know.”

“Oh!”  Narcissa gasped.  “A shooting star!”

“What did you wish for?”

“More nights like this.  Just you and me and the stars.”  Narcissa grinned.  

“That sounds nice,” Nova murmured.

“If you are with me, then it sounds perfect.”

Nova blushed.  “Our love is going to last longer than the sun will,” Nova declared.  “The sun will explode in a brilliant and enormous supernova someday, and it will kill all of humanity.  But it won’t destroy our bond.  I love you too much for the end of the world to get in our way.”  

“Me too.” Narcissa smiled.  “The end of the world hasn’t met us yet.”  

“It better watch out.”  Nova laughed, and rested her head on Narcissa’s shoulder.  “I’m glad I can escape reality with you.  Up here, I forget about everything.  It’s only you and me.  Everything else is worlds away.”  

“We’re the only up here.  You, me, and the constellations.”

“We’re like Andromeda.  Waiting on our rock, waiting for the serpent to come.  The second we leave, we’ll be saved, or killed.  All we can do is wait a little bit longer.”  Nova sighed.  

“Then let's wait a little bit longer.”  Narcissa smiled softly.  “No need to greet the serpent.  We can hide away here.”

“I’ll hide away with you forever if I have to,” Nova smiled.  

“Good.  Me too.  Because I love you, and I cherish every single second I spend near you.”  Narcissa leaned in to meet Nova’s lips once again.  It felt like returning home.  They were okay.  They were still alive.  

Maybe they were hiding from life, but they were happy, and warm, and safe, and that was all that mattered.  

tag list: @novissa @redassassin @rvbell @phobidawg @thepurpledragon4444 @janisarkisian @lavenderbloo let me know if u want to be added or taken off!! (and sorry if i forgot u its a bitch to remember all the new urls)

[kyosohmastan]

Hello! I love your fics! Could you write a fic where tohru is lusting after kyo in his black button down shirt? Thank you!

Can’t pass this up! I think she would think he’s handsome in that shirt. ;-; I included this in a smut challenge I’m doing although this one doesn’t have actual smut but the prompt was kissing so there’s a lot of kisses. It takes place right after his date with Kagura where Tohru is more aware of her feelings for him. You can find my one shot collection for the challenge here. Hope you enjoy this~

Rating: T

Words: 2,247

Faint patters of footsteps came from the kitchen and towards me. It had to be him, and I tried to steady my racing heart as I turned, my mouth full as I said, “Welcome back. Would you like dinner?” All the while, awestruck by him more than I typically was.

I’ve never seen him in that color before. He had on a black dress shirt that somehow made him more mature instead of boyish. He had been growing lately without the shirt's doing. But he appeared even more so with it.

I swallowed, trying not to visibly ogle him. I couldn’t when I was more concerned over the solemn expression he had. What had happened on his outing with Kagura? Perhaps he confessed his love to her and got rejected. My chest hurt at the idea of him being in love with her all this time because I...had wanted him for myself. Why couldn’t I just admit it to him?

“Don’t need any,” he said simply, turning and heading up the stairs.

“Um...okay,” I said, the disappointment evident in my delivery. I never wanted to see him down. No...he’d looked more upset since we got back from the beach house, way before his date with Kagura-san. Something was weighing on him so heavily. I wanted to release him from it.

I turned back to the others. Yuki-kun was narrowing his eyes as he watched Kyo-kun leave. “Don’t worry, Honda-san. He gets in these moods. Don’t let it concern you.”

I couldn’t not worry. I didn’t want to leave him alone, even if he wanted to be by himself. But I didn’t want to pry either. What could I do to help him anyway?

I continued to eat, but my stomach was in knots. I almost wanted to cough each bite back up.

Shigure-san and Yuki-kun wished me goodnight shortly after dinner. I stayed behind and cleaned up, doing it quicker than usual. I just had to see him.

I tip-toed up the stairs, then reached his door. I raised my arm to knock on it, pausing to rethink everything. However, my intuition told me to go to him. I gathered my courage and knocked. He opened the door relatively quickly. Maybe somehow, he was eager to see me. Or maybe I was wishfully thinking.

My eyes met his chest, that black shirt, then traveled to his beautiful face. I had planned out in my head what I was going to say. I was simply going to ask if he was alright. But words failed me. My mouth gaped as I took him in in the pitchest shade of black. He needed to wear that often.

His brow quirked. “Did you break?”

“Um..” I finally said. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t expect you to answer that quickly. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You seemed really depressed when you came in.”

He sighed through his nose. And I wondered if he’d sound like that if I’d-

“I’m fine,” he answered. “I don’t want you to worry about something that isn’t an issue in the first place.” He stepped aside, and I came into his room.

I had my doubts. He hadn’t seemed fine in a really long time. “Are you sure? I want to do what I can to help you.” The room was lit only by the lamp on his desk. It was rather dim. It made the dark of his shirt stand out more and, in return, his skin seemed bright in contrast. He looked like autumn cursed him, in the way his orange hair turned auburn in the lighting. How had I not noticed how vibrant he was? The colors that made him was something I’d never seen on anyone else. It was entirely him.

“I’m...good.” He shut the door, turning to me and examining my intuitive stare. “Tohru?”

“I’m sorry.” If I was freaking him out with my stares, I wouldn’t be surprised. “Um..that shirt?”

He shook his head once when I didn’t say anything more. “What about it?”

“You look...very handsome in it. I love the color on you.”

His nose scrunched. That wasn’t the reaction I’d been hoping for. But when he made a brief laugh, relief flooded me. “Are you sure you’re not the one who’s not okay?” He patted my head as he moved over to his futon, gracefully landing on it.

“Oh, I’m fine!” He was probably joking. I should have known. I followed, sitting a few feet beside him.

“Good.” He looked down, resting his arms on his bent knees. “As long as you’re okay, I’m fine too.”

How was that so? How could I impact him that much? “But you know, you can talk to me if something’s troubling you. Ever since we got back from vacation, you’ve seemed very down.”

His timid smile faded away. I was aware I was digging in too deep and pushing him out of his comfort zone. But I cared too much to let it go.

“There’s just some things on my mind that I shouldn’t tell you.”

I began to wonder...was it his confinement? I’d pushed the thought out of my mind, not wanting to consider it because it brought myself down. But I couldn’t ignore that it was a possibility for him. I wouldn’t let it happen.

“I know about your future, Kyo-kun. What’s going to happen…”

He sat up straight so fast, the futon quaked. “How? Akito-?”

“Yes,” I said regretfully. “If that’s what’s bothering you, I understand. But I want you to know that I’m going to try to stop it from happening.”

He shook his head instantly. “Don’t concern yourself over it. Besides, I’m struggling over more than that.”

More than being imprisoned forever? “What do you mean?”

He raked his hand through his hair, limply grabbing at the strands. “I shouldn’t tell you. Not when my future is set and we’ll be separated.”

“Kyo-kun,” I mumbled helplessly. “Your future isn’t set if I can stop it.”

“I don’t want you to,” he snapped. The reaction made me inch back. “I don’t want you to waste your time with that. You have yourself to think about. You need to focus on graduation.”

“No. I’m not as important as making sure you don’t get locked up because…” There was no way I could exit this conversation without spilling the truth. I dug myself into this. “There’s nothing more important as keeping you with me. I can’t lose you.”

His eyes lightened from their darkness. That hit a nerve. If it was in any way other than a good thing, then I was going to break. “Do you hear yourself? What about your mom.”

“She’s still important but things are changing.” When I thought they never would. But I know I have to live in the present and right then, Kyo-kun was with me. “The only thing I need to keep me whole is you. It would wreck me if you went away. I wouldn’t be able to stand it.”

There was a wonder on him as he looked to me like he’s reading a dense history book. But I was laying it all out there. What more was there to uncover? “You can’t love-” He cut himself off and shook his head. “I’ve done things that would make you change your mind.”

“That’s impossible,” I insist, scooting an inch closer to him while he leaned back. “Nothing you do could change my mind. What is it that you think would?”

He looked as he did when I found him in the forest, curled up, hugging himself as if he desperately needed someone to hold him, to shield him from whatever he’s seen. “I can’t tell you...not yet.”

That wasn’t what was important right now. Because it wouldn’t change my mind either way. “I love you, Kyo-kun,” I whispered, cautiously putting my hand on his knee.

He closes his eyes and turns his head from the wall and away from me. “I’m not supposed to be loved.”

I felt myself bolden. I had to if I was going to attempt to get through to him. I grabbed the collar of that black shirt and gently tugged to get him to look at me. “No. That's not true. I can’t help that I love you. And you deserve it. Everyone deserves love.”

He made himself look to me, and I settled back down again at his comforting gaze. “I can’t accept that. Even if... I love you too.”

My cheek went wet, and it wasn’t until then that I noticed I was crying. Despite his resistance, he wiped away my tears with his thumbs, holding my cheeks.

I grasped his wrist, the one he wore the rosary on, and my fingers memorized each of the beads. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” He was so close...just enough for me to lean over an inch and touch. I wouldn’t mind going as far as we could while my emotions were at an impeccable high.

My other hand pushed half of his bangs back, itching to touch some part of him. Finally, as if it had been years, he smiled.

I blinked away my tears and smiled back. Whatever he said, whether he was resistant, his actions spoke different. And I chose to listen to them. I took a leap and leaned forward, pressing my lips to the corner of his. I tried to gather up courage to give him what I really wanted. But as always, he had more of that than I did when it came to this type of thing. He always did initiate everything.

He kissed me fully. It was only the lightest press, but it was up to me to take it further. Now that we were there, I had more motivation to return it full force. I tangled my fingers into his hair and took his bottom lip between my teeth, albeit timidly. Was this something he was into? I initially thought maybe he didn’t want me to go so rough. But he didn’t falter as he kissed me again. I closed my eyes, inching back as I felt him move forward, and I laid down. I reached up to make sure he was still there even though I felt his lips on mine. I also had to feel him with my hands.

I held onto his hips, inching my hands up until I felt the skin under his shirt, and the ridges of muscle on his abdomen as I felt up. Wow, I was feeling him up. I still had to wonder if this was okay, but he didn’t pull back.

He returned the gesture, stroking the exposed skin on my hipbone with his thumb. There was a tingle in the pit of my stomach unlike anything I felt before. I wanted the ache to go away, but how could I ask? With something as serious as that, I couldn’t be sure if it was the right time. No, at that moment, his kiss was enough. The way he felt me with his cautious fingers was enough.

I tilted my head back, parting my lips to feel his tongue. He swept it along mine, mapping out each inch of it. For just a few moments, I was able to forget the possibility of him being taken from me. I had him for those few minutes only, and I cherished them.

But, sadly, we had to breathe. He parted and hoisted himself over me. I was rather pleased to see his lips so swollen.

He tilted his head. “Where’d you learn to do that?”

My cheeks heated. “It just came to me.”

He sat up, bonking my head with his fist as I rose up with him. “No, you probably get it from those romance movies you like to watch.”

“Yes,” I giggled. “I probably did. But it came to me naturally because I love you so much.”

He blushed right back at me. I stroked that red cheek. “You’re so...deserving of my love, Kyo-kun. Don’t think different.”

His smile was small. He still didn’t fully believe it. I’d keep saying it, repeating it like a chant until he did. “Okay, okay. I don’t mind it...telling me you love me. I love you so much, Tohru. I didn’t know so much pain would come with that feeling.”

I stood, pulling him up with me by his hands. I threaded my fingers through his. “It doesn’t have to hurt if you open yourself up to it.” I kissed him again, briefly this time. It was getting late.

“We’ll see,” he said, his smile dropping again. “I don’t know what we are now…”

I didn’t know myself. But I knew I didn’t want to be just friends. “We don’t have to label anything,” I said, begrudgingly making my way to the door. “But you have me, either way.”

In a gentle whisper, he replied, "I want you to be mine."

I’ve always wanted to hear that from him. I wanted that to be the last thing I heard from him tonight, so I kissed him before he could say more. He returned it so lovingly. I wanted to melt in it forever.

“Goodnight,” I whispered against his lips, leaving quietly. Only then did it register that I’d had my first kiss, but I wouldn’t let it be the last from him.

[vicunaburger]

Imperfect and inhuman, are we?

Fandom: School of Rock: The Musical (AU Verse) Chapters: 2/? Pairing: Dewey Finn x OC (Magdalena Newton) The Players: Dewey Finn, Magdalena Newton, Ned Schneebly, The School of Rock Students Word Count: 1,779 Warnings: M for Future Things

Notes: Oh yeah, this was a thing I was doing.

Chapter 2 - Evening - Serenade 

It was that near perfect sort of weather outside: the kind where it was cool enough to open all the windows, but not cold enough to warrant breaking out the portable heater and pointing directly at his feet. Instead of shutting himself away in the makeshift “soundproof” corner of his apartment, Dewey decided to take his personal jam session out onto the fire escape.

He had long since chased away the neighbors who took issue with his might tributes to the rock gods, so he wasn’t too concerned with having the police called on him.

Again.

Noise complaints carried expensive ass tickets.

Besides, using an acoustic guitar dampened the noise enough to satisfy the holdout residents around the building.

“Why is this G sounding like an A? Are you out of tune- fuck!” He mumbled though the impromptu song, angrily adjusting the strings. “I thought I fixed you when the humidity changed.”

“I don’t know that song,” a voice from the alleyway below called up to him. “Play Freebird.”

Startled, Dewey nearly fell off the windowsill onto the harsh, metal grating of the fire escape. Setting he guitar -gently- on the floor of the apartment, he climbed outside, peering down over the shaky railing to the ground below.

Looking ever so much the small, porcelain doll from such a height, he spotted a familiar woman wrapped in a winter white coat. Her dark hair spilled over one shoulder onto the pristine fabric, reminding him of one of those ink blot tests the Horace Green resident counselor would give the faculty every month.

She waved up to him, but it was hard to read her expression from such a distance. He could only assume she was in a good mood from her cheeky joke about requested another song. Then again, he had yet to see her in a bad mood.

Dewey was surprised -in the very best way- to see her so early in the evening. Magdalena had a habit of catching him as he arrived home from late night practice; it was uncanny how she always seemed to sneak up on him, barely making a sound as she approached him on the sidewalk. Normally, he could hear a pin drop from six feet away, but she was something else.

They would exchange pleasantries before she would continue her trek down the sidewalk toward the city proper, “to work” as she explained. She made no attempt to elaborate on what sort of job started so late at night; so, he guessed it was something medical.

Or she was a classy hooker.

Didn’t much bother him either way.

“Hey, Snow White!” Dewey called down to her, “Hold on, I’ll be right down.”

He near leapt back into his apartment, scrambling around on all fours, picking through various piles of laundry on the floor. They were organized – in a way – by the level of wear they received throughout the week. Obviously, something on the fresher side was the goal; it would be mortifying to pick out a shirt that had food stains or some other sign of his lack of forethought to hit the laundromat last week.

Magdalena always looked like a million bucks striking down that grimy sidewalk, whereas he looked like he rolled around a thrift store clothing bin.

He had gotten most of his wardrobe from thrifting, but she didn’t need to know.

“Aaaah – I’ll be right down… gimme just another minute.” He grabbed a sweater vest from under his bed, jamming it over his head as he yelled toward the window. “I don’t want you being late… for… whatever you would be late for!”

Struggling with the vest, as he had somehow managed to slip his head through an arm hole, he failed to notice the woman sitting politely outside the window.

Magdalena watching him angrily try and right himself; amused that he was taking such great pains to dress nicely for her sudden arrival. Frankly, what he already had on was enough for her, as she enjoyed seeing him so vulnerable?

No, casual was a better choice. Sometimes the nuance escaped her.

“No need to shout, Mr. Finn.” Magdalena finally announced herself, wanting to end his struggles. “I can hear you perfectly well.”

Dewey stopped midway removing the vest, dropping the garment to the ground, and pulling his t-shirt down over his stomach. It had ridden upward in his haste, exposing his midsection entirely. A bright blush spread across his cheeks, noting the fact she had been starting directly at the exposed pudge of his belly. Was it because of the pudge? It was the pudge, he concluded, her staring at him for any other reason was making a beeline for cheesy porn fantasy territory.

“What- how did you get up here?” He asked, blinking slowly.

Magdalena tilted her head, mirroring is blink, “The stairs.”

“Well, yeah duh the stairs, I meant like how you got up here so fast. There are like fifty steps up to this floor-” He sat on the windowsill across from her.

“Fifty-three steps.” She corrected him gently, brushing some stray hair behind her ear.

“How do you- “Dewey began.

“I counted.” Magdalena finished for him. “I passed all of my arithmetic courses some years ago, Mr. Finn, as I’m sure you have.”

Pausing, he ran a hand through his mess of hair, trying to smooth down his perpetual bedhead fluff. Magdalena’s hand twitched with the impulse to run her fingers through his hair, wondering if it would be as soft as it looked against her sensitive skin. It wouldn’t have been too hard to just reach over a little, just for a brief moment to keep that sensation as a memory.

Two things kept her impulse in check: one, social convention would frown upon such a familiar gesture of affection towards a man she hadn’t yet spoke a thousand words to altogether. Two; she dared not cross the threshold between the fire escape and his apartment.

Fire escapes were public, specifically owned apartments were not.

“I… sound like a complete jackass when I talk to you. I’m usually better? Sometimes. Most times. Promise. Swear on my vinyl collection; may it melt if I’m lying.” Dewey scratched the back of his neck nervously.

Shrugging, she gave him a small, reassuring smile, “Well, I don’t know anyone personally to compare your behaviors with, but I’m hardly offended by what you say.

Dewey looked about to cry, which she couldn’t be sure if it were because of her response, or the chill in the weather. He leaned forward, elbow on his knees, with his chin in his hand. The fact that his upper body was now technically beyond the windowsill was not lost on her, her eyes flicking down to calculate the angle between his head and the window frame.

He sighed heavily, taking note of her impeccable posture, “You’re so… polite, ya know that? Like those women in fancy drama movies on PBS. Sitting around waiting to marry some fancy lord or whatever. Why are you up here talking to me anyway?”

“Oh, well, shouting from the street would be grossly inappropriate. My mother, she always says, ‘Magda’” She deepened her accent, hunching slightly, “ ‘If they cannot be close enough to hear you speaking softly, they aren’t worthy of hearing what you have to say in the first place.’”

“So, you came up here because you wanted me to hear you better?” Dewey tried to piece what he could through the thick, eastern European accent she had donned. “I would have come down! Now you’ll get that coat all covered in rust and I’m gonna feel bad about it. And that’s gonna make me break out the wallet so you can get it dry cleaned, because I need to be a gentleman.”

Magdalena laughed, covering her mouth with the back of her hand, “I can get it washed, no charity required. It’s just a coat; but a Mr. Finn is unique, so I will gladly sacrifice something that can be replaced.”

The rocker stared at her, his jaw a little slack, “…are you real?”

“The eternal question plaguing the greatest minds in history.” She played with the ends of her inky hair, twisting it around her fingers, “Maybe. Maybe not. In this instance of sitting with you, yes, we are real in relation to each other. Then again, when I leave, you might not exist until I come back. Or vice-versa.”

“Terrifying,” He replied, shaking his head sadly.

Seizing the opportunity, she reached over with her free hand, patting his shoulder softly, “Quite; but I could always be wrong, Mr. Finn.”

Dewey reached upward, placing his larger hand upon hers, frowning when he felt how cold she felt, “Hey, why didn’t you tell me you were freezing? Here.”

Before she could stop him, he took hold of both her hands, pulling them inside the warmth of the apartment, rubbing them between his own hands to generate heat. Magdalena’s arms felt like their were being pulled through a nest of razor wire, her very sinew feeling as if it were being peeled back from her muscles.

She steeled her expression, biting her tongue to keep from screeching in pain from his selfless gesture, trembling head to toe with the effort. He thankfully didn’t notice her discomfort, cupping his hands around hers and puffing warm breaths against her cold skin. What should have been a tender, friendly gesture was being overridden by her compulsion to stay outside. His permission needed to be verbal, not physical. Words were powerful things in her experience.

Her head was pounding, her vision growing blurry with the pain streaking through her veins like acid. Faintly, she could feel a small drop of blood leaking out from her nose, trickling down her to her lip, and falling onto her lap.

Dewey must have taken his attention away from her hands, his eyes growing wide as he let her go, “You’re bleeding? Are you okay? Snow?”

The woman pulled her hands toward her body, one of them going up to try and hide her bloody nose, “Oh! I’m… forgive me, it happens occasionally. Not your fault!”

The moment her hands were outside the threshold of the window, her body felt perfectly normal. No pain, no throbbing headache. Just as she had been moments before.

“Allergy medication. Sometimes with the dry weather… ah, still, I apologize for the gruesome interruption.” She took a handkerchief out of her coat pocket, wiping away the blood as best she could. “Did I get it all? Less hideous?”

Leaning forward, Dewey pretended to examine her face, struggling to keep a stern expression, “Well, less hideous than you usually are, so it’s a start. Might take a little more work to get you from hideous to tolerable.”

Magdalena pouted, stuffing the handkerchief back into her pocket, “I’ll enlist your help to make sure I’m daresay presentable in the future. Goodnight, Mr. Finn, I expect a better song choice tomorrow.”

Writing Tags: @amywright @mrgeuse  @hoodoo12 @mr-geuse @paxenera @leiasolo77 @go-commander-kim @a-subconscious-manifestation @asriells @missihart23 @heknowshisherbs @clairjohnson

[searchingforstarss]

failure’s a stranger we all dream about

febuwhump/fluff fic #5! written for the fluff prompt missing you and the whump prompts revealed secret, creators choice (i’ve gone with some classic college stress) and mental disorder. 

Summary: Peter’s college workload and anxiety makes him worry that maybe he’s not good enough for Tony.

read on ao3 here!

--

The only thing coursing through Peter’s veins is Red Bull.

May would probably go into cardiac arrest if she could see how many empty cans of the stuff Peter has littered on the desk around him. It's not like he can help it. He just burns through it so fast and he really needs to stay awake tonight - his Circuits and Electronics assignment isn’t going to write itself, as much as he wishes it would.

So, here he is, with an assignment due tomorrow and an empty word document in front of him. The questions on his laptop screen are blurring together, burning into his eyeballs in the dim late-night light of the library and he has to blink a couple of times to refocus.

Which of the following is an effect of reflective radio frequency power?

What is the frequency of the source if the capacitive reactance is 0.06?

Compared to bipolar transistors, field effect transistors are normally characterized by what?

He knows all this. He does. Or at least, he should know all this. He should be able to do it in his sleep. He’s been doing this stuff with Tony in his lab since he was fifteen. He’s had adults telling him that he’s a genius his entire life.

So why is it so hard to think?

He just has to focus. That’s all it is. He hasn’t been putting enough work in lately, letting himself get distracted.

He takes another gulp of his Red Bull determinedly as he feels his eyes start to slip shut again.

If his hands are shaking from the caffeine as he picks up his calculator then nobody needs to know.

 ---

Peter glances up wildly to a tap on his shoulder.

He doesn’t know how much time has passed, but he’s gotten through four pages of his assignment questions and one more can of Red Bull.

At this point, he wonders whether it would be cheaper to kick the Red Bull habit and just take up drugs instead. Tony and May have been encouraging him to experiment in college. He thinks they probably just mean meeting new people, putting himself out there, maybe having a drink or two every so often. Drugs might be a bit extreme then.

Another tap on his shoulder.

The librarian is standing behind him. Her name’s Gale.

She really is very nice. Her greying hair and rounded glasses remind him of May’s mother that he only knew for a few years before she passed away when he was younger. She's always the one that has to ask him to leave night after night when the clock strikes midnight. Usually, he’s the only one left. Especially on a Thursday night like tonight, when everyone seems to be out partying to celebrate Friday’s imminent arrival.

Peter wonders whether May and Tony would be disappointed that all he’s really managed to accomplish in the way of meeting new people and putting himself out there is being on first name terms with the librarian.

Who's he kidding? Of course they would. He's been doing a lot more to disappoint them than just that. 

“Mister Parker, you know I have to tell you to leave.”

Peter sighs. He still has at least two pages of questions left to go. “Yeah, Gale. I know. Thanks.”

She watches as he gathers his things, and as he does, her eyes sweep over the cans of the Red Bull on the desk and pointedly up towards the sign on the wall reading “Strictly NO Food or Drink.” She never explicitly mentions it and Peter’s grateful because he’s not sure how he’d make it through without the pick-me-up, but he’s sure the second he goes anywhere near her library books with it rather than just his own laptop he’ll be hearing all about it. Especially if it’s her precious history section. He swears she spends half her time arranging, then rearranging it, seemingly for the hell of it - hardly anyone ever ventures into that section of the library.

Peter sheepishly gathers all of his mess into his arms and dumps it into his unzipped backpack, along with his laptop. The metal of the empty cans clink together as he slings his bag over one shoulder.

“Get out of here and get some rest,” Gale tells him pointedly, shooing him towards the exit.

“I will,” Peter says, nodding dutifully. He hopes that he isn’t lying through his teeth. Getting some rest sounds great. A faraway and unrealistic ideal maybe, but great all the same. It’s a shame all his mind can focus on is the rest of the assignment still sitting unfinished in his laptop files. “Have a good night.”

She gives him a wave as he steps out into the cool night air and as the doors shut behind him, she turns back towards the stack of books she’d been shelving behind her desk with a sad sort of smile. She always looks just a little bit sorry for him and Peter isn’t sure why.

He’s surely far from the only student at MIT who's overestimated their own skill and fallen victim to it.

---

The thing is, Peter really just didn’t expect college to be this hard.

That sounds kind of obnoxious whenever he thinks about it. Of course, he knew MIT was going to be a challenge. That was why Tony kept pushing him for it, telling him that it would extend him and allow him to ‘spread his wings’ in a way that not many colleges would.

He just didn’t exactly expect to be spending almost every night in the library.

He didn’t expect every new assignment to feel like a new weight on his chest until suddenly it’s the middle of the semester and he can’t breathe from the stress.

He didn’t expect to be falling behind.

He could keep up in high school without even having to try. He could skip studying, go out as Spider-Man and turn up to school the next day on barely a wink of sleep and with a freshly stitched up bullet wound in his side and still ace all his tests. He had Tony and May at his side, supporting him every step of the way.

Now they’re miles and miles away and he misses them. He tries not to wallow in it. He doesn’t want to look like a fool. He definitely doesn’t want to have to return to New York with his tail between his legs and have to admit to Tony and Pepper that actually they’ve made a mistake naming him as a joint heir to Stark Industries, that he can’t even handle a basic college education let alone running an entire company - especially one that’s worth billions.

It doesn't help that all of his professors seem to know Tony either. They don’t call Peter out for turning in the odd piece of homework late or getting distracted in class like they might do for anyone else. Instead, they give him pats on the back in hallways and tell him fondly that, “Tony must be so proud of you, following in his footsteps.”

Tony wouldn’t be, though. Not if he knew how much effort Peter was having to put in to keep his head above the water.

He just wants Tony to be proud of him.

He has to work harder - that’s the only way.

---

Completely disregarding his earlier resolution, Peter falls asleep in class the next morning.

He made it through the first fifteen minutes at least. Enough time to turn in his assignment as he stepped through the doors of the lecture hall (even if he did have to stay up until four am to do it, along with the Computation Structures homework he forgot about) and find a seat.

He ends up to a girl he’s fairly sure is called Angela. He’s paired up with her for one of their classes. Nanoelectronics, maybe? He’s convinced that she harbours a very strong dislike for him (he doesn’t like to admit that it’s probably because he never really gets his share of their work done in time) but it sure beats sitting through a two-hour lecture by himself. He’s always at more of a risk of nodding off if he holes away alone in a corner of the room.

But as it turns out, even sitting next to Angela and the furious tapping of her nails against the keyboard as she struggles to get down everything from the PowerPoint at the front of the room isn’t enough to keep Peter awake.

“And now we’re going to move on to…” Peter zones out the rest of the sentence just as their lecturer is just foraying into something about electrical current. He gives in to his losing battle with consciousness and falls asleep with his head in his hands.

 “... will be all for today. I’ll see you all next week.”

Peter jerks awake fifty minutes later to the sound of rustling and movement around him, hundreds of people stowing their laptops and notes away in their bags to go.

Angela is staring at him, clearly waiting for him to stow his desk back up so she can get past. He fumbles a little drowsily as he puts everything away, and as he stands she steps past him and towards the exit of the row. He stares down at his note page for today’s lecture which has nothing but the date scrawled at the top.

“Hey, wait, um, Angela?”

She turns around.

“It’s Angelica, actually.”

Peter cringes. Shit. “Sorry, I knew that, I swear,” he says, trying to sound as confident as he can. Angela (No, Angelica) cocks one eyebrow. She’s clearly seeing right through it. Peter feels his cheeks heat up. “I was just wondering whether, uh, do you reckon I could get your notes for today?”

She stares at him incredulously for a second.

“Get lost, Parker.”

--- 

Peter’s living in a single room this year, courtesy of Tony.

He wasn’t a massive fan of the idea at first, and at the moment he’s honestly not even sure why Tony’s bothering to pay for it when over the last month or so he’s been spending so much time in the library. He figures Tony would have been better off just forking out for a sleeping bag for him to set up under one of the tables instead (he doesn’t think Gale would like that all that much though).

It was their compromise. Peter let Tony pay for him to have a single room, and he got to carry on Spider-Manning when he’s needed. Sure, it’s not exactly the nightly patrols and throwing himself in the direction of danger every time his spidey sense so much as prickles like he might get up to in New York - but maybe that’s a good thing. At least he’s still in control. He can head out whenever if he needs to get involved, and return to patch himself up, however bloody he may be, without scaring one of his poor fellow already-stressed-out-enough-as-it-is undergraduate students.

Sure, maybe it means that everything seems a little quiet. There isn’t the sound of May’s soapy TV shows that she loves floating through from the living room or FRIDAY humming in the walls. He’s not used to the quiet, to being alone. Ned’s here though, so at least he doesn’t have to miss him. He lives a few floors down, rooming with a guy called Daniel - he’s cool enough and he doesn’t seem to mind Peter hanging around their room. Peter went to a few of the O-Week activities with them. Sometimes they all get together and play video games in the common lounge on a Saturday night.

So he’s not lonely. Definitely not.

He doesn’t even have time to think about being lonely.

It’s just sometimes, he needs to see a familiar face, and then he’s really glad that Ned’s here as well.

---

“Dude, I asked Angela - uh, no, Angelica, for her notes for that circuits lecture I just had and she just totally refused to help me. That’s like, uncalled for, right?”

Ned doesn’t even turn around at the sound of Peter’s voice as he walks straight in the door of the dorm room.

“Ever heard of knocking?”

“Yeah, yeah, I will next time, promise. But I need validation.”

Ned shrugs and spins around in his chair to face Peter. He looks well-rested, no dark circles under his eyes like Peter caught on himself in the reflection of the glass doors as he stepped into his lecture this morning. He kicks his feet up onto the bed. “Okay. Well, I need context."

Peter grimaces a little and Ned stares at him accusingly. Peter groans, taking a seat heavily at the end of Ned’s bed and throwing his head back against the wall petulantly. “She literally straight up just looked at me and was like no.”

Ned doesn’t look all that sympathetic. “Did you fall asleep in class again?”

Peter nods reluctantly. Ned thinks it over.

“I mean, it’s shit, but it’s also kinda your fault. Sorry to break it to you, but you really gotta stop doing that, man.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m working on it.” He groans. “Why did nobody tell us that college was going to be this hard?”

Ned’s forehead creases as if he’s trying to work something out. When he speaks, it’s slowly. “I don’t think it’s been too bad so far…”

Great. Peter’s just the stupid one then.

“Is everything going okay with you?”

Peter nods out of reflex. He’s never found anything academic difficult in his life. He can’t admit it now. Deflect, deflect, deflect. “Oh yeah, course. Just a little stressed. I keep leaving homework until the last minute, shit like that.”

Ned nods like he understands. Peter’s not sure he does.

---

“Mister Parker, could I speak to you for a minute?”

Peter’s heart begins thumping unnecessarily forcefully when his biological engineering professor calls this out as he’s leaving class a few days later.

He’s more than a little bit intimidated, to be honest. Not only is the man singling him out of the hundreds of students flooding out of their lecture hall right now, but he’s friends with Bruce. Bruce was the one who suggested he take this Ethics for Engineers paper back when he was course planning with Tony. Tony insisted that if he was going to be granted an exception to take five courses in his first semester then one of them had to be an elective - something he could kick back in a cruise through a little.

Bruce had suggested something like this, no matter how much Tony protested that he was absolutely not going to lose Peter to anything to do with biology. But Bruce said that William Nicholson was the bioengineering professor to learn from, and now here Peter is, wiping his sweaty palms against his jeans before shoving them into his pockets altogether, standing in front of the man himself.

“I - uh, yes, Professor Nicholson?”

The man smiles kindly. “Call me William, Peter.”

Peter just nods stiffly. “Is everything okay?”

“I just wanted to have a quick chat with you about your grades so far. I know the first semester of college can be tricky to navigate and I’m just a little concerned about how you’re faring.”

“I’m fine,” Peter blurts, nodding his head furiously. “I’m fine, honest.”

His professor looks unconvinced. “I have to say, when Bruce Banner got into contact with me before the year started, and he told me that he knew this brilliant kid starting college and taking one of my papers, I-”

“I get it,” Peter breaks in. He doesn’t need to hear the rest. He knows he’s a disappointment. “Turns out I’m not as brilliant as everyone thinks I am.”

Professor Nicholson raises his eyebrows over the top of his glasses. “That’s not what I was going to say at all Peter. What I was going to say is that I don’t think he was wrong, not in the slightest. I think you just need to keep your head screwed on straight and maybe just pull your socks up a little, put a bit more work in.”

Put a bit more work in.

Peter doesn’t know how much he has left in him. He doesn’t know how he could physically be doing more in a day.

“I - I, um,” Peter stumbles, trying to wrap his head around the words. “Uh, okay. What can I do, how do I put more work in?”

I can’t.

He’s already spending practically every waking minute either studying, or performing the basic functions necessary for human life like eating and showering, whilst simultaneously worrying about not studying.

I can’t put any more work in. I might drown.

“I don’t know how to put this lightly. You’re getting grades for attendance but everything else so far has been handed in late, or otherwise, may I say, completed fairly mediocrely. I don’t know if others are willing to let that slide, but I for one, am not. I understand this class isn’t worth as many units as others, and you may not view it as equally important, but if you carry along this projected path you’re setting for yourself, you’ll fail this class, Peter.”

Fail.

Fail. Fail. Fail.

Peter’s never failed a class before. He’s never even failed a test (apart from once when he was in a medically induced coma after nearly drowning in the Hudson the night before but he really thinks he should have been given a make-up opportunity for that).

He can’t fail.

Peter Parker doesn’t fail. Peter Parker is a genius - that’s what everyone’s always told him. Has he been fooling the people around him for years? Tricking them into thinking he’s smarter than he is?

Starks’ definitely don’t fail. That’s a fact. Peter’s expected to run Stark Industries one day. He can’t do that with a failed class imprinted onto his college manuscript forever.

Tony will be so disappointed in him.

“I can’t - I, no. I can’t fail, s-sir. I really can’t.”

Professor Nicholson’s mouth settles into a regretful line. “You won’t, necessarily. I just thought it would be wise to warn you. I can assign you a few pieces of extra-credit work if you wish, but mostly I just need to see better work. Get a few Bs, maybe an A, and that should pull you up over the line.”

“O-Okay, I can do that.”

Can I?

“Thanks for chatting with me, Peter. I just thought you should know.”

Peter nods dumbly. He thinks maybe he stumbles out a goodbye but he’s not too sure, his breathing stuttering and catching in his throat as he hastily turns to exit the room as quickly as he can.

He’s a failure.

The hallway outside the lecture hall is full of students waiting for their next class to start. They’re all unfamiliar faces, he doesn’t recognise any of them, and he pushes his way through people. His heart is still racing in his chest.

He’s failing.

He just needs to get away, but he can’t remember where he’s going or what class he has next. His phone screen blurs in front of him when he tugs it out of his pocket, and he hopes he’s not crying because god that would be embarrassing.

His breathing quickens again. He’s panicking, he knows he is. He’s well acquainted with this feeling, the way his chest contracts and his mouth dries out and the world spins around him. The way his limbs tingle and his mind narrows in on one specific thing.

Failure. Failure. Failure.

He shoves open the door to the first bathrooms he stumbles upon, keeping his head down and hoping that he doesn’t draw too much attention to himself. He nearly knocks someone over in his rush to hide himself away inside one of the stalls, and he bumbles out a stupid sounding apology before he slumps down on a toilet seat and locks the door firmly behind him.

Nothing seems to be working as Peter screws his eyes closed and tries to force his breathing back down to a semi-normal rate and ease the ache in his chest. The word failure keeps floating around in his head, emblazoned to the front of his mind. He may as well have it tattooed on his forehead.

The only semi-coherent thought he can conjure up in his panic-addled mind is that maybe he isn’t cut out for this after all.

He has to admit, that when he finally unlocks the toilet stall half an hour later and gets a good look at himself in the mirror, he’s a certified mess. Red blotchy cheeks, puffy eyes standing out against the dark circles underneath them, his hair manic from tugging it in his grip.

He even looks like a failure.

---

The only reason Peter leaves his room for the dining hall later that night is because he’s run out of ramen and microwave burritos.

He’s had a reminder scrawled on his whiteboard since last week to pencil in time to go grocery shopping, but he’s spent day after day ignoring said reminder so he’s landed himself in this situation. Out of venturing down the road to the grocery store or just across the quad to the dining hall, this seemed like the lesser of two evils.

It would be kind of nice to not be alone right now, but Ned and Daniel ate earlier - or at least that’s what Ned said when Peter had sent him a text to ask half an hour ago. The two of them did used to invite Peter to the dining hall with them. They’d all meet at the front doors of the hall and go together, but they stopped a while ago when Peter started declining the invitations more than he was accepting them. He doesn’t blame them, really.

He’s just pushing the doors open, the smell of buffet chicken tenders hitting his nose when his phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it out, hoping that maybe it’s the email with his extra-credit assignments from Professor Nicholson. He could add that to his already extensive to-do list for tonight.

Instead, it’s just a text from Tony.

Is now an okay time to call?

An emotion that Peter can’t quite figure out settles heavily at the pit of his stomach. Maybe it’s something akin to dread. Either way, he’s suddenly not all that hungry. Tony can read him like an open book - even over the phone. Speaking to him is an absolute no go.

I’m having dinner. Talk later, he types out in reply, before glancing back over it and adding a :) for good measure at the end. He hits send and turns his phone off. He tells himself he has too much work to do tonight to afford being distracted, anyway.

---

His phone rings again the next morning as he’s walking to class, interrupting the music he’s got blaring from his headphones.

He’s running on an hour of sleep. He got a head start on the coding for his algorithms class and finished half of the extra-credit work that Professor Nicholson emailed through to him. It would have been easier if Peter could concentrate without the pen he was gripping trembling the whole time with his pent-up nerves, but he thinks he managed to do an okay job.

He glances down at the screen blearily and isn’t at all surprised to see Tony’s name flashing across the top. The man didn’t even bother to text first this time.

Peter hits decline and types out another text.

Heading into class rn, sorry

He presses play on his music again and wonders how he’s going to stay awake in class without it.

---

Tony calls for the third time when Peter’s lying in bed a couple of nights later.

He has a pile of work waiting for him on his desk, but he’s so beyond tired at this point that he figured a quick nap can’t hurt before he sits down and starts to work through it all. He might even head down to the library. He hasn’t seen Gale in a few days, and the guy in the room next door to his has been arguing with his girlfriend on the phone for an hour now.

He doesn’t even have an excuse to text Tony tonight.

Friday nights are the one night he left wide open - when he doesn’t have night labs or study groups or some extracurricular that he signed up for at activities fair but hasn’t found time to attend in weeks. He did that on purpose, so that Friday’s were the night that he could let loose and have fun.

He misses the days when he’d been optimistic enough to think that would even be a possibility.

Peter knows that Tony knows that he’s free right now. Pepper texted him a photo a few weeks ago of a copy of his own college timetable taped to the fridge at the lake house.

He wants so badly to talk to Tony - to pick up the phone and hear that comforting voice that he’s been missing. But he can’t.

He’s a failure. Tony wouldn’t even want to talk to him if he knew that the kid he’s entrusting his entire company - the one he’s completely turned around with his bare hands and sheer will - can’t even handle one of the most necessary of human experiences: college.

He hits decline and shoves his phone under his pillow.

---

“You need to call Tony.”

Peter groans. It was a refreshing change when his phone rang this morning and it was May’s name instead of Tony’s, and he picked it up because Ned’s gone home for the weekend and honestly he’s just really starting to miss human contact. The last he had was ten hours ago when Gale ushered him out of the library with a warm pat on the shoulder and a warning that Red Bull will rot his teeth before he hits twenty-one.

Now, once he realises what the call is about, he’s kind of regretting picking it up in the first place.

“Morning to you too,” Peter grumbles as he paces impatiently back and forth in front of his microwave waiting for his breakfast burrito to be done. He finally made a trip to the grocery store yesterday.

“I’m serious Peter,” May says. “Why am I getting agitated texts from Tony every hour telling me that you’re ignoring him and asking if I’ve heard from you yet? You know I love him but there’s only so much Tony I can handle at a time. I have no idea how Pepper does it.”

“I’m not ignoring him… I just haven’t had the time.”

May hums a sort of disapproving sound like she doesn’t quite believe him.

“I’m not! Seriously,” Peter protests. “I’m busy, that’s all it is. Tony’s just reading too much into things. You know what he’s like.”

“Well, you need to find time in your incredibly busy college student schedule of partying and studying to call him, okay? I’m worried he’s constantly about one step away from getting in the car and kidnapping you to bring you back here himself.”

Peter groans.

“Not that I would mind that at all,” May continues. “I haven’t seen you since when, your birthday?”

“I’ll be home soon, I promise. I just gotta get all my work done first.”

“I’m going to hold you to that,” May tells him. Peter can practically hear the smile on her face and he misses her so much. “Call Tony. And I love you.”

“Yeah, yeah. I will. Love you too.”

---

Conveniently, Peter’s much too busy to get around to calling Tony for the rest of the day - or at least that’s what he tells himself. He turns his phone off anyway, just in case. Distractions are extremely unwelcome right now.

He ends up holed in the library by two in the afternoon, attempting to finish his extra-credit work and study for his nanoelectronics quiz.

He has a panic attack at seven when he realises that there’s no way he’s going to get any of this done in time. He can barely even read the words in front of him in his textbook, his brain jumbling them together, unable to sort the information into anything vaguely coherent.

Gale brings him out a cup of tea from the staffroom at eleven, despite her own ‘no food or drink’ signs she enjoys pointing out to Peter. It’s warm and comforting, and for a second Peter can almost pretend that he’s at home instead of sitting in the corner of a soulless college library.

By the time she has to send him back to his dorm at midnight, the cup of tea is empty in front of him and his eyes are drooping but his list of work he still has to get done seems just as long as when he started.

---

Peter feels like his entire life is just stuck on loop.

He gets up, drags himself to lectures and labs, sits in class and tries not to fall asleep, takes notes, does homework, studies for tests, steals as much sleep as he can in-between all that and then does it all again.

Sometimes, he catches himself thinking about Muffin, the pet hamster his elementary class used to have. Shy and quiet Peter would always end up by himself sitting at the table at the back of the classroom no one else wanted to sit at. It was next to Muffin’s cage though, and whenever he inevitably finished his work early he’d just sit, enthralled and watch the hamster run around and around on its neon green running wheel.

He feels a bit like that at the moment. Always running, not really getting anywhere. Except, he keeps tripping, struggling, can’t quite manage to pull himself back up onto his feet.

He’s leaving a lab that afternoon, still feeling like poor old Muffin on the running wheel because he can barely remember anything that was said and he knows he’s going to have to go back and re-read the entire chapter later tonight, when he hears excited murmuring around him.

He pays it no mind at first. The only thing he’s focused on is heading back to his dorm to grab a granola bar as a late breakfast. He didn’t have time to eat anything before he rushed out the door this morning.

Then, he hears a familiar name.

“Dude! My roommate just texted me, he said they saw Tony Stark walking across the quad.”

Peter freezes. His brain short-circuits a little bit but he snaps himself out of his thoughts to try and rejoin the physical world around him to hear what’s going on. The chattering continues.

“No way. Do you reckon he’s doing a lecture?”

“Someone else I know said they saw him getting out of a car like an hour ago.”

If he shows up to one of his lectures this afternoon and Tony’s standing up there, guest lecturing or some shit, like he always threatened to when he was wallowing on about how much he was going to miss Peter when he left for college, Peter might actually die.

When May mentioned that Tony was on the verge of coming up here himself, Peter didn’t think she was being serious.

Someone nudges him in the side as he grabs for the door handle, suddenly wanting nothing more than to get out of the building - but also cautious of venturing anywhere he could run into Tony.

“Hey, Parker. You know Tony Stark, right?”

Peter glances around. He doesn’t even recognise the guy that’s asking him. He wonders whether he should know his name as well.

“I, uh, yeah I do,” he manages to get out as eloquently as he can manage. “No idea what he’s doing here though,” he adds.

Secretly, as much as he doesn't want to think about it, he thinks he might have a fair idea.

Tony must know Peter's failing.

Professor Nicholson could have spoken to Bruce. Bruce probably would have told Tony. That's the only possible reason.

What if Tony’s only been trying to get hold of him to tell him how disappointed he is in him, how he knows now that he’s made a mistake naming Peter as one of his heirs? What if he wants Peter gone, never wants to be associated with someone who doesn’t even have the brains to pass his first-year college elective?

Somewhere in the back of his brain, Peter knows he must be overthinking. Tony loves him. He shouldn't be feeling this insecure about their relationship at this point. But even knowing this, it doesn't help the fact that Peter really doesn’t want to have to face him. If he could go forever not having to see Tony and own up to his horrifically embarrassing failures then he would. But somehow, he’s pretty certain that Tony will never let that happen.

Tony’s always been able to smell his mistakes from a mile off.

It used to be a good thing. It used to keep him safe. Now though, as he makes the first few tentative steps along the pavement that will eventually lead him straight to his dorm it just makes Peter feel like he’s headed off to the gallows.

The inevitable death of Tony’s pride in him.

---

He’s expecting it, knows what’s waiting for him behind his door when he makes it back to his dorm, but it still shocks him back a little, jarring to see Tony perched on the edge of his stupidly uncomfortable single bed. He’s in jeans and a sweater, nothing ostentatious, baseball cap and sunglasses he’d obviously had on resting on top of the nightstand. Clearly, he still managed to get recognised anyway and Peter’s sort of glad. It gave him a bit of a heads up even if he still feels woefully prepared to face the man that he’s been dodging calls from all week.

“W-What? Tony, uh, what are you doing here?” Peter stammers. He tears his eyes away from Tony and he can’t bear to look back, focusing on the ground instead, how the fraying carpet scuffs beneath his shoes.

Tony makes a small sort of surprised noise. “That’s not exactly the greeting I was hoping for, but I guess I can't exactly expect much when you’ve been ignoring me all week.”

“M’not ignoring you,” Peter mumbles in reply. He wishes Tony would just cut to the chase. They both know why he’s here. The longer he stands here in the doorway the more he feels like his heart’s about to explode out of his chest from how rapidly it’s beating. He knows Tony’s disappointed in him. He just needs to hear it so he can start forcing himself to come to terms with it.

He hopes he doesn’t cry. His eyes are already aching whenever he blinks from all the late nights and time staring at his laptop.

“You blowing off every one of my calls kinda sent me a different message,” Tony says, clearly trying to keep his voice nonchalant. “I was a little worried. Thought I better get up here, see how my favourite college student is going. Make sure you hadn’t gotten too carried away with Spidey and bled out on the floor of your dorm by yourself. Oh no - wait. I didn’t have to worry about that, because you picked up May’s calls. Just not mine.”

Peter’s cheeks heat up at being so blatantly called out. Tony still doesn’t sound mad yet. Just confused. A little hurt, maybe. He didn’t mean to hurt Tony.

“I just couldn’t… I dunno. Couldn’t speak to you. Not right now.”

The confusion on Tony’s face deepens. “Any reason why?”

Peter takes a closer look at Tony’s face. How can he not know? Why else would Tony be here if he genuinely doesn’t know about Peter’s college fuck ups, if he’s not here to break the news that Stark Industries can’t ever be linked with someone like him?

If Tony doesn’t know, somehow, then he can’t find out. “I can’t tell you. I can’t,” Peter stammers out.

Tony stares at him, eyes studying him carefully. Peter squirms under his gaze, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He still hasn’t stepped forward out of the doorway, but when a few people walk through the hall outside and crane their heads to peer in, he takes the smallest step forward he can manage and closes the door behind him with a thud.

He feels a lot more closed in now, just him and Tony in his tiny shoebox of a dorm.

“I thought we weren’t doing secrets anymore?” Tony asks. “Open communication, healthy family relationships? All the shit my therapist said to me after the snap. I know yours said the same.”

Peter worries his bottom lip between his teeth. He hopes Tony can’t see the way he’s shaking. For a split second, he toys with the idea of just telling him. Taking a deep breath and spilling everything, the fact that he’s failing his biological engineering class and that he can’t handle college. That he misses everyone at home like crazy, he’s lonely all the time and he feels like his mental health has taken a dramatic nosedive off a cliff.

But he doesn’t. The words feel heavy in his dry mouth. Instead, all that comes out is a sharp, “can we not do this?”

He regrets his tone as soon as the words leave his mouth, but Tony doesn’t push harder or demand that he spill. Instead, the man just shrugs. “Okay. If that’s what you want. I didn’t drive all this way to argue, so if you don’t want to talk about it then we won’t.”

Peter practically reels back in surprise. He suddenly feels bad for losing his cool. “Um, okay. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap, I’m just-”

“But you know what we do have to talk about?” Tony cuts in, waving off Peter’s awkward apology. “The state of this room. I thought I was paying for a single room, not for you to make the place so filthy that you could adopt a herd of cockroaches and rodents as roommates. I hope you’re charging them rent.”

“I’ve been busy,” is all Peter has to offer. Then, frowning, he adds, “and there aren’t rodents in here.” He takes another tentative step forward into the room just as Tony leans down to toe an empty ramen cup out from under the bed. His nose wrinkles in disgust.

“What, too busy to take the two seconds to put your trash where it belongs?” he says, leaning over to his right to toss the cup into the garbage can by the door. “See? Didn’t even need to get off the bed.”

“Show off,” Peter mutters.

Tony grins at the snark. “Seriously, when was the last time you actually opened your eyes and looked at this place, Pete?”

Peter’s not sure. Usually, he’s far too preoccupied to be concerned with something as mundane as what sort of living standard he’s upholding in his dorm room. But when he does look around, there are more ramen cups everywhere, stacked on top of rare free surfaces, peeking out from under furniture. Scattered graphing paper screwed up into tight balls litter the carpet. His duvet is scrunched up in the corner of the room after he spilt coffee on it the other night and never got round to washing it. It’s been a bit cold the past few nights but whatever.

“Did you come all the way here to pick apart my room? Because we could have just video called for that.”

“You wouldn’t have picked up,” Tony says plainly.

“Wait, no, I-”

“Nope. No excuses. I came to see what was going on, whether I could help with anything,” he explains. “And I have found my calling - elevating you up out of this filth.”

“I don’t know if I have time for this, Tony. I have things to do. Assignments, lots of assignments.”

“You can spare half an hour, kid.”

Peter relents.

---

It doesn’t actually even end up taking them that long. They clear out the mess of granola bar and burrito wrappers, ramen cups, old receipts and scrap paper that he’s let accumulate on the floor. Vacuum the carpet. Tidy the explosion of books and worksheets covering his desk. Make the bed - something Peter isn’t even sure he’s done since he first took the sheets out of their pack and put them on the mattress on his first night.

In the end, all it takes the two of them is twenty minutes and a couple of trips down to the trash chute at the end of the hall.

It puts Peter’s racing mind at ease a little bit, the monotony of it all, and as he tugs a final stray sock out from the bottom of his wardrobe to chuck into his laundry hamper, everything slips out and he reveals what he was so sure he desperately wanted to keep a secret.

It's probably been Tony’s plan this whole time, honestly.

“I don’t think I’m cut out for this, Tony.”

Tony looks up from where he’s shoving one of Peter’s windows open to let some air in. The hinges on it squeak as he does. “Cut out for what exactly? You mean cleaning? Because I’m with you on that one, bud, but this place really needed-”

“No, not that,” Peter says. He might laugh if he wasn’t so nervous. “This whole, um, this college thing.”

“What makes you say that?” Tony’s turned to face him now, leaning up against Peter’s desk in a fashion that Peter suspects is entirely faux-nonchalance.

“I just can’t do it. I suck at it.”

“Whoa, whoa,” Tony holds his hands up. “Slow it down there a little, kid. You don’t suck at it. I don’t think I’ve ever known you to not be able to do absolutely anything you put your mind to.”

Peter hates that. That is entirely his problem. So he tells Tony so. “That’s the whole thing though. Everyone thinks I’m super smart, like I’m meant to be flying through college, just like you did but I’m not. I can’t get anything right. I’m failing, Tony. Failing.”

Confusion is written all over Tony’s face. “Failing, what exactly?” he asks carefully. Peter bites down on his lip again. It’s already feeling kind of ragged. This was probably a mistake.

“My bioengineering paper. The ethics one.”

Tony furrows his eyebrows. His head cocks to one side a little as he thinks and Peter wonders whether he even realises he’s doing it. “Okay…” he sinks down back onto the newly-made bed, creasing the covers a little bit. “You wanna come sit down here for a minute? Have a chat?”

“I, uh, I think I’m good here.” Peter can’t bear the thought of letting himself get close only to be pushed away.

Tony shakes his head. There’s disappointment on his face, but not the kind that Peter was expecting. More like disappointment that Peter had even thought Tony would be mad in the first place, but he doesn’t quite understand that. How could Tony not be upset? He’s trying his best to live up to everything wonderful about Tony Stark but he keeps falling short. He’s still just unlucky old Peter Parker.

“Get over here,” Tony says, but his words aren’t commanding. They’re reassuring. He pats the space beside him, and Peter makes the few short steps to perch himself next to Tony. The man wraps a steady arm around his shoulders. Peter tries to force himself to stay upright, back stiff. He can’t just lean into every touch that he gets from Tony, no matter how much he’s missed having him close. He’s not a kid anymore, after all. He’s a college student.

“Is this why you were ignoring me?”

“I dunno,” Peter mumbles. “I just didn’t want you to find out.”

Tony squeezes the nape of his neck gently and all of Peter’s resolve disappears. He crumbles against Tony’s side.

“I can’t do it, Tony. I can’t. I’m trying so hard, I promise. I spend like, every night in the library and I barely even sleep anymore trying to keep up but I just can’t. Every time I sit down it’s like I just freak out and I can’t concentrate.”

“Can’t concentrate how?”

“I’m just worried about everything all the time. Worried I won’t get things done on time. Worried I’m not smart enough to even do the work. Worried about impressing my professors… worried about impressing you,” Peter adds finally, under his breath.

Tony’s arm tightens around his shoulder at this, and he stares down at him with a sort of understanding dawning across his face that Peter can’t quite make sense of. “Have you been taking your meds?”

That throws Peter a little. Taking his meds? He’s not sick.

“It’s not like, the flu or something,” he says blatantly, not quite sure how Tony got it this wrong. “It’s all the time. I’m not sick, I don’t have an excuse. I’m just not smart enough for this.”

“No, no, no. Not like that, sorry,” Tony says gently. “Has it occurred to you that maybe your anxiety might be acting up?”

Peter frowns, shaking his head. They sorted out all the issues he was having with his anxiety a few months after the reversal of the snap. He took the medication that Tony and Bruce synthesized for him for a while and that was that. Nothing overly traumatic in his life has happened since then. He shouldn’t need them anymore. He’s better.

“No, no, that was just when I got back from the snap. This is just college. Everyone does college.”

Tony takes a second to consider his words. When he speaks, it's careful and calm. “I’m no expert, bud, but your anxiety isn’t just going to disappear like that. It’ll come and go. Plus, sure, you’re right. Everyone does college-” Peter’s stomach knots nervously as Tony says that. He can’t help but feel that any moment now will be the moment that Tony turns around and tells him that he should be better. “-But, not everyone does college with as much pressure on their shoulders as you put on yourself. That’s a Peter Parker exclusive. You don’t have to be the best at everything all the time.”

“I do. You were. How am I ever going to take over Stark Industries one day like you want me to if I can’t even pass Ethics in Engineering? Bruce told me to take that as a fun paper.”

Tony winces at that. They really should have phrased it better.

“You don’t want to know how many classes I failed because I was too constantly hungover for even Rhodey to force me out of bed, Pete. The real world isn’t dependent on passing or failing. One class isn’t going to matter, even if I’ve got total faith in your ability to turn it all around before the end of the semester,” Tony says. Then he pauses. He looks over at Peter again and Peter can practically see the gears turning in his head. “Unless college isn’t something you want to do? Because it isn’t for everyone. You don’t need a degree, not really. You can already outrun me in the lab and Pep could teach you double the stuff you'd need to know about the business side in half the time, probably.”

“No, I want to do this. I do,” Peter says after a moment. He’s telling the truth. He wants a degree, he wants to see this through and come out the other side - just preferably not feeling like he does now. “I just wanted to make you proud of me at the same time. I... I've really messed that part up. How can you be proud of a failure?”

Tony sucks in a sharp breath at Peter’s words. His face twists like they've physically hurt him. “See, now I can see where we’ve gone wrong here. I’m always proud of you. Completely unconditionally and unequivocally. You don’t need to graduate as valedictorian to make me proud. All I want you to do is grow up into the best man you’re capable of being and you’re already doing that, buddy - far too quickly for my liking, I might add. You’ll be taller than me soon.”

“That’s not hard,” Peter murmurs before he can help himself and Tony snorts.

“There he is. Hijacking my sappy dad speech to make a cheap joke about my height. I see how it is.”

---

Peter sits cross-legged on his neatly-made bed later that night.

Tony’s sitting on the desk chair on the other side of the room, thumbing through his phone. “I’m ordering pizza. I’m not braving a college dining hall, I’ve been there, done that, and you need a proper meal. You want pepperoni?”

“I’m kinda feeling a Hawaiian tonight, to be honest.”

“You disgust me,” Tony retorts immediately but he returns his attention to his phone anyway, likely doing exactly as Peter’s asked.

He reaches over to grab the nanoelectronics textbook from his bedside table where he’d left it last night, all his unfinished work still piling up in the front of his mind, despite Tony’s reassuring presence. Before he can draw it off the nightstand and into his lap though, Tony’s hand closes around his wrist and shoves it away. He gathers the textbook up into his own arms and adds it to the neat pile they formed on his desk while they were cleaning.

“I kinda need those,” Peter protests. All he gets in response from Tony is a stern shake of the head.

“Not right now you don’t. Not a chance. What you need is a nap. I’m gonna sort through this and figure out a game plan for us to tackle all of this tomorrow.”

“You don’t have to help me,” Peter protests, no matter how appealing it sounds to have someone by his side to help him sort through the slog of his schoolwork. He wonders whether this is what it would have been like if he didn’t inadvertently shut Ned out in favour of desperately trying to get everything done.

“What? You think I’m just gonna sit around and watch you flail about and try to sort it yourself? What sort of parent would that make me?”

Once upon a time, maybe that word would have made the two of them freeze uncomfortably. Even now, they just stare at each other for a long moment. They’re family, indisputably, but even then the whole 'parent' word doesn’t get thrown around a whole lot. Peter thinks Tony’s still scared of stepping on the toes of dead people. Personally, he’s sure his parents would be glad that he’s got people in his corner apart from just May looking out for him. Especially Tony. Tony does a good job of it. 

“I guess you’re right,” Peter offers. “That would probably make you a pretty shitty parent.”

Tony grins, tinted with relief. “You got that right. So I wanna see that head on that uncomfortable looking pillow of yours for a little while, okay?” Tony commands, leaning over to press a quick kiss to Peter’s temple. “Just sleep.”

Peter does.

---

By the time Peter’s woken up by the smell of takeaway pizza filling the small space, Tony’s used his class planner and assignment schedule to organise his workbooks into piles of urgency on his desk - what needs to be completed right now and what can wait. He’s also listed everything on the whiteboard and is in the middle of removing every single can of Red Bull from Peter’s minifridge.

“Hey,” Peter grumbles blearily. “Mine.”

“Nope. Not anymore. They’ll rot your teeth. If you need your caffeine fix then just drink coffee like a real man. None of this sugary rubbish.” Tony tosses the four cans he has in his hands into the trash and reaches back in to grab the last few.

Peter snickers. “You sound like Gale.”

“Who the hell is Gale?”

“Our elderly librarian. She’s very nice.”

“Okay, first of all, you’re on a first-name basis with the librarian?" Tony asks incredulously.  "And second of all, I entirely resent being compared to someone you labelled as elderly, thank you very much.”

Peter grins. “I mean, if the shoe fits.”

“I’ve changed my mind all of a sudden. I haven’t missed you at all.” Tony's words are punctuated with an affectionate ruffle of Peter’s hair, and Peter knows that he doesn’t actually mean a word of it.

For the first time since this tiny little dorm room has become his home, he can breathe. Tony’s here.

Everything is always okay when Tony’s here.

[inyournightmares97]

Ultimatum (Part 2)

Park Jinyoung is a master negotiator. He’s used to preying on people’s weaknesses and manipulating them to get his way. So he can’t understand you; a lawyer who sees the world in black and white, as either good or bad. Conflict is inevitable.

But if the two of you can just set aside your differences, perhaps you can perform miracles together.

Word Count: 3.6k+

Warnings: Angst, office!au, enemies to lovers!au. Some language.

Part 1: In Which You Win

Part 2: In Which He Wins

Part 3: In Which the Common Enemy Appears

Part 4: In Which You Work Together

Part 5: In Which Nobody Wins (coming soon)

Part 6: In Which Everybody Wins (coming soon) 

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

It was like taking candy from a child. 

Cruel, but easy. 

“Do you know what this is, Yugyeom?” Jinyoung asked with a handsome smile. He leaned against Yugyeom’s desk gracefully, his expensive suit making the wooden table look dull in comparison. Jinyoung held a small sheaf of papers in his hand. “I just received this from IT. I think you’ll find it makes for very interesting reading.”

Yugyeom didn’t look up. You had just left the office for a meeting and he really didn’t want to deal with Park Jinyoung in your absence. 

“Huh. Maybe put it down there and I’ll take a look at it when I have time,” Yugyeom muttered, trying to focus on the work he was supposed to be doing. He could feel Jinyoung’s dark eyes piercing into his skull. 

“Are you sure? I think you want to read it now.”

“Not really.”

Jinyoung raised an eyebrow. “I see. You’d like me to leave it here for your boss to find when she comes back? Because I’m sure she’d be fascinated to go through your internet browsing history. There are some real gems in here.”

Yugyeom recoiled. “What?”

“The more recent ones are a delight. Let me see. ‘How to ask a girl out’ and ‘is it okay to date an intern’ and pick-up lines in Japanese. Is Hana Japanese? How ignorant of me, I never bothered to ask her. Oh! But I see if we go a couple months back then you enjoyed one particularly late night at the office alone, hmm? On 17th October at 11pm? Sounds like a wild ride. Busty brunettes-”

Yugyeom leapt to his feet and snatched the sheaf of papers, crumpling them up instantly. His cheeks and ears turned a bright red and he looked around furtively. Luckily you had stepped out for a meeting and Youngjae, the only other member of the Legal department, had gone to the cafeteria. 

“Stop it. Please. Where did you even get that?” Yugyeom pleaded. 

“I have friends in IT, Yugyeom,” Jinyoung explained as Yugyeom desperately ripped up the papers and tossed them into the bin under his desk. “I also have more copies of that.”

“I suppose you mean Mark Tuan. He’s not supposed to be releasing employee data like that. It’s against company policy for IT to disclose personal data to employees from other departments who don’t have clearance,” Yugyeom ranted, his brown eyes looking panicked. “It’s a breach of confidential information. So you can’t use that evidence against me because you obtained it illegally and without clearance-”

Jinyoung chuckled as he folded his arms across his chest. “Yugyeom. You poor child. You don’t understand how the world works, do you? I don’t need clearance to accidentally send this information to the rest of the office. What’s the worst that could happen to me? A formal reprimand, maybe a warning. But you… you’re going to face a lot worse.”

Yugyeom swallowed nervously. “Like what?”

Jinyoung leaned closer and lowered his voice to a whisper. “Like Hana finding out about your taste for brunettes even before you’ve asked her on a date.”

“Fuck.”

“What do you think? Does this seem like a risk you want to be taking?”

Yugyeom clenched his fists with hatred. “What do you want?”

Jinyoung grinned despicably and rolled up his sleeves. 

“That’s more like it. Let’s have a negotiation, shall we? It’s what I do best, after all.”

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

Yugyeom had been acting suspiciously silent all afternoon. 

“Are you okay?” you asked him with a kind smile. 

The young law graduate had only been working under you for a year, but his bright attitude and easy-going personality were the best things about him. Yugyeom could be clumsy and careless but he never lost his smile. Ever since you’d returned from your meeting, though, he had only been giving you one-word answers and avoiding your gaze. 

“Fine,” he muttered. 

“Are you sure? You’ve been pretty silent since I got back from my meeting.”

“Maybe something I ate at lunch didn’t agree with me,” he mumbled. Yugyeom’s face was white and you patted his back sympathetically. Poor kid. He’d been working hard with the big restructuring coming up soon. 

“I’m leaving early today since I have to go visit my Mom. You should go home too. And drink some soup,” you suggested as you packed up your belongings. “We’ve been overworking ourselves. Nobody seems to appreciate that we’re the only thing standing between this company and a massive lawsuit.” you complained. Jinyoung’s despicable face popped up in your mind. “How dare he call our job a mere formality. That arrogant bastard.”

Yugyeom hiccuped nervously. 

You smiled at him. “Here, drink some water. I’m guessing Park Jinyoung didn’t come by today?”

“W-what? No. Why? Did you see him?” 

“Of course not. I was at my meeting most of the day. I assumed he’d come down here and try to bother you about the term sheet again,” you replied. It wasn’t like Jinyoung to give up easily. “I’m surprised he hasn’t done anything yet. He only has two days until his deadline. He must have some plan?”

Yugyeom forced a smile. “Maybe you scared him.”

“Maybe,” you mused. “Anyway, I’m leaving. Go home, Yugyeom. Get some rest.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

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

“I need you to personally review the documents relating to the opening of our new office in Busan,” the CEO told you. “It’s important that nothing goes wrong during this restructuring. We need it to work in order to cut costs here at the Seoul office, but if we have legal problems then we could end up spending more than we save.”

You nodded, clutching the files to your chest. “Right. I understand, sir. We’ll take care of it.”

“I know I can count on you. Okay. That’s all for today, I have another meeting in a few minutes. Dismissed.”

You walked out of the CEOs office with a sigh, wondering how you had just been piled with more work than ever when you’d really wanted to take a few days off this week. Things were getting tougher. Your mind was preoccupied as you walked and you collided with a hard chest covered in an expensive suit. 

“Hello there,” Jinyoung’s deep voice greeted, sounding amused as he reached out to help you straighten up. You looked into his dark eyes. The man’s hands were soft and warm on your skin, unlike his personality.

You frowned at him. “What are you doing here?”

“I have a meeting with the CEO,” he informed you smugly. 

“About what?”

“None of your business. Run along and go pretend to be important elsewhere,” he told you airily. 

You narrowed your eyes at him. Something wasn’t right. Park Jinyoung shouldn’t be this happy. There was a sparkle in his dark eyes and even the way the corner of his lips was curved up suggested that he knew something you didn’t. 

Something smelled fishy. 

“How are you so calm? I don’t understand. Your client expects to be signing the agreement tomorrow and you haven’t even got a term sheet approved,” you reminded him. You’d checked with Hana and she had confirmed that Jinyoung would be meeting with the client tomorrow afternoon. What was he going to take to them? 

“You know what? I think I’ll manage.”

“Manage how?” you demanded. 

“There’s no fun in me telling you that, now is there?” Jinyoung asked. He coolly ran his fingers through his hair. “Keep your schedule vacant tomorrow. I imagine the entire office will be having a party to celebrate me securing the biggest deal of the year. It would be a shame if you missed it.”

“I can’t miss a party that won’t happen,” you snapped. 

“Sure, let’s see who wins this one. Spoiler alert: it’s me. It’s always me,” Jinyoung informed you with a pearly-white smile. He patted you on the head in a condescending manner that made your blood boil (how dare he: you were a fully grown woman!) and then calmly walked past you to enter the CEOs office. 

What was happening? 

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

At 8:34 pm on Tuesday night, Kim Yugyeom burst into tears and confessed everything. 

You weren't surprised, only angry. It was just like Park Jinyoung to prey on a person's weakness. He had no shame or remorse, possessed no sense of right and wrong. He didn't even have basic decency, how could you have expected better from him? 

“Hey, look. It’s going to be fine,” Youngjae tried to console Yugyeom gently, handing him a tissue to wipe his face. Most of the office had already left for the day but Yugyeom’s tears were still running like a waterfall. The poor boy was terrified.  

“I-it’s not fine. I’m going to be fired for having approved a term sheet that was clearly against company policy-” Yugyeom whimpered. 

“Nobody has to know!” Youngjae insisted. He turned and looked at you, expecting you to reassure Yugyeom. “Nobody has to know, right? Park Jinyoung won’t say anything because his ass is on the line. There’s no reason for senior management to read the agreement thoroughly. I’m sure the CEO will just sign it since it’s such a huge deal for our company. We’ll be fine for now. It’s a seven-year contract so really, it’ll be years before anyone begins to find any problems.”

You leaned back in your chair and sighed. “Do you guys know why the company doesn’t offer sub-licensing rights as a rule?”

Youngjae blinked. “I mean, yeah-”

“It’s because the software we’re licensing out is ours. If the client is allowed to license it to other people, or sub-license, then why would anyone come to us to buy it? We’d never make sales ourselves because the client would essentially be selling our product at a cheaper rate than us. We'd lose customers, literally. Sub-licensing puts our company at a disadvantage in the long run. But Park Jinyoung doesn’t care about the long run. He doesn’t even care whether this deal will benefit the company. He just wanted the personal glory of being the first guy in Sales to secure a ten million-dollar deal.” 

Yugyeom sniffled. “I’m sorry…”

You sighed and patted him on the back. You weren’t happy with Yugyeom, but the boy was already so miserable that it seemed heartless to scold him further. 

“Let’s call it a day, Yugyeom. We’re going to have to listen to Park Jinyoung gloating tomorrow, so we need our rest.”

“You’re not going to tell the CEO?” he asked hopefully. 

You bit your lip. Every part of you was screaming to go to the CEO now and tell him that Jinyoung’s contract grossly violated company policy, but it was too late. Yugyeom’s signature was already on the sheet. The poor boy would lose his job and you didn’t want to be directly responsible for that. You gave him a small smile. 

“I’m not going to tell. But the problem might get traced back to you someday, Yugyeom. I won’t lie. I’m not sure I can save you from that.”

“I-I know.”

“How about we all go get some pizza? Let’s invite Hana too. The poor girl can never join us when Jinyoung’s around,” you said brightly, in an attempt to dissipate the dull atmosphere. “Yugyeom, why don’t you go over to Sales and let her know?”

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Park Jinyoung probably rehearsed that despicable smile of his. 

You could picture it in your mind; Jinyoung standing in front of his mirror at home and practicing his pearly-white smile, checking to see which angles were most flattering. Jinyoung’s smile was made for the cameras, which was convenient because a press conference was held on Wednesday afternoon to announce that the two companies had entered into an enormous deal. 

You watched in silent disgust as Jinyoung smiled handsomely for the cameras and shook hands with the senior management. 

“Looks like they’re organizing a party to celebrate the deal,” Jinyoung announced loudly to Jackson as he walked past your desk later that evening, proudly carrying the small gift that the client had given him as a thank you. He was addressing his co-worker, but his dark eyes twinkled in your direction. “There’ll be lots of free booze. We’re going to need a designated driver.”

Jackson laughed. “Don’t look at me! I intend to get sloshed!”

“Oh, I’m sure someone from Legal will volunteer,” Jinyoung replied airily. “I can think of a few teetotallers in that department.”

What a prick. Like hell you would be driving his drunken ass home. 

Park Jinyoung gave you a cheeky smile and hurried past. Even the sight of his shapely posterior was not enough to calm you down. How did the man wake up every morning and live with himself? He had no shame. 

You paused for a few moments to visualise his head puffing up to three times its present size and then exploding into a billion tiny pieces, one for every dollar he’d made off the deal. The prospect made you feel marginally better and you were able to get back to work. 

You’d get your revenge. 

Although maybe not quite yet. 

“Are you all coming to the party tonight?” Hana asked hopefully, when she stopped by the Legal area on her return journey from getting Jackson coffee. Her question was addressed to all three of you but her gaze was on Yugyeom. He had been miserable all morning. His shoulders were slumped as he shuffled through some documents half-heartedly. 

“Of course we’re coming,” you told her. 

Yugyeom blinked. “Actually-”

“We’re coming. We did some work on that deal too, we deserve to be there,” you replied. You gave Yugyeom a firm look. “You’re not going to avoid it. If nothing else, at least enjoy the free drinks. Why would you refuse when the company is paying?”

“Right…” Yugyeom mumbled. 

“Can I come with you guys?” Hana asked shyly. “I don’t really want to go with the rest of the Sales team. Mr. Park is being offered a promotion, and it’s all he can talk about. I’m getting kind of tired of congratulating him on it whenever he brings it up.”

You flinched. “A promotion? Jinyoung?”

“Well… it’s not a promotion exactly. But since he’s such a good negotiator, the CEO wants him to help the Finance team make pitches to potential investors for our company. I guess that’s a step up from Sales, right?” she asked. 

Holy shit. They're sending him to our investors now? That was no small matter. Being in charge of finding clients was one thing, but to let Jinyoung talk to the company’s investors was pretty much the highest recognition they could have given him.

No wonder he had looked so pleased. 

"Of course you can come with us," you told her kindly, trying not to let your bitterness show. "I'm sure you need a break from all that toxicity up in Sales. We'll meet you after work, I think the restaurant they booked is within walking distance from here."

"Thanks!" Hana said brightly. "I'll see you!"

None of you were in a mood to celebrate Park Jinyoung's 'contributions' to the company but you decided that you would go. Hopefully a couple of drinks and some time spent with Hana would cheer Yugyeom up. Park Jinyoung could only be in one place at a time, so it should be easy to avoid him, right? 

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

It wasn't. 

Park Jinyoung seemed to actively follow you around the party. Youngjae left to hang out with his friends in IT and after the first half hour, Yugyeom and Hana found a private spot on a couch to chat with their cocktails. They looked cozy and you didn't want to disturb them, so you just stuck to the walls and smiled at people politely.  

Maybe you needed more friends. 

Then again, you’d never been one for socializing at work. You worked well with your team, sure, but you didn’t know much about their personal lives. And you didn’t spend hours in the cafeteria chatting with people from other departments. You had a pleasant working relationship with most people but you didn’t have any friends in this company. 

Oh well. 

You’d rather be alone than manipulate people the way Jinyoung did. 

You were just beginning to wonder if you could make an excuse to go home when you spotted a familiar smirk in the crowd. Park Jinyoung made his way over to you, a glass of whisky in one hand. He looked incredibly attractive. He’d unbuttoned the first two buttons on his shirt and his suit jacket was missing. Jinyoung’s hair was messy, and his skin flushed from the alcohol. 

“Well,” he greeted you with a smirk. “You must be the only person in the room who hasn’t congratulated me tonight. Even Yugyeom did it, although he squeezed my hand a little harder than he should have. I think you’re rubbing off on him.”

You said nothing, merely glared. 

“Oooooh, the stink eye. How terrifying,” he replied sarcastically. “Fine, don’t congratulate me. Oh! But would you mind driving me and Jackson home tonight? Everyone’s getting drunk and we can’t seem to find a ride. You don’t drink much at these kind of parties, do you?”

You held a hand out to stop a passing waiter and took two shots of hard liquor from him, one in each hand. Without breaking eye contact with Jinyoung you drank both of them in a single gulp and then set them down on the counter. Your head spun; but Jinyoung’s jaw fell slack and that was enough for you. 

“Ah, I see. You are drinking then.”

“Surprising,” you replied with a sneer, “that the man who can negotiate a ten million-dollar deal is too cheap to just take a cab home.”

Jinyoung scoffed. “Cheap? Me?”

“Oh, am I wrong?”

“You are, as a matter of fact,” he replied. The corner of his lips turned up. “I’ll prove it to you. Let me buy you a drink right now. Choose anything you want from the bar. Not the free drinks they’re handing out for our party, but the expensive stuff on the menu.”

“I wouldn’t touch a drink you bought me with a ten-foot pole,” you snapped. 

Jinyoung put a hand on his chest, looking offended. “What? What kind of a man do you think I am?”

“The kind who blackmails an innocent kid with his internet search history into signing a contract that he could be fired for having approved. Do you not think about the consequences of your actions, Park Jinyoung? Do you just go about the world doing whatever you please for your own benefit?”

Jinyoung’s eyes narrowed. “Of course. Who else do my actions need to benefit?”

“Unbelievable.”

“What?” he demanded. “Nobody’s ever done anything for me. I’ve gotten everything in this world through my own hard work. You think I haven’t been stepped on or cheated? Go ahead. Worship your laws and your ethics and your fucking company policy all you want. Those things have never helped anyone. We’re all responsible for taking care of our own asses, and no rulebook can change that.”

“You’re selfish and disgusting.”

“I’m happy.”

“Are you really? How do you live with yourself? It’s lonely at the top, Park Jinyoung.”

Jinyoung scoffed. His eyes looked around the room proudly. “Lonely? This party is being celebrated for my achievements. I’ve been congratulated by every single person here. I’m getting a raise and I’m about to be promoted. Do I look lonely? You’re the one who doesn’t have any friends here. All you do is act like a teacher’s pet and preach your moral superiority. It’s annoying.”

You flinched. “What?”

“It’s true, isn’t it? Nobody likes a goody-two-shoes. This isn’t primary school. There are no prizes for following the rules. Grow up.”

“I cannot believe your nerve.”

“No, you just can’t believe that your stupid company policy was wrong and that I found a better way to handle things on my own.”

“On your own? You blackmailed a kid! He could lose his job! And why? To secure that precious ten million-dollar deal? That deal is going to hurt the company in the long run and you knew it from the start! Not a single person benefits from this entire manipulative mess except for you!” you snapped. 

Jinyoung blinked. “Then go tell on me.”

“Excuse me?”

“Go on, teacher’s pet. Be a tattletale. Go tell the CEO. I’ll lose my job. Yugyeom will lose his job. And your precious company will be saved from the big, bad sublicensing term. I dare you to do it,” he challenged you. 

Your fists clenched. For a moment, you pictured yourself punching Park Jinyoung in the face, or throwing a martini onto his expensive shirt. How dare he create a problem and challenge you to fix it? How dare he pretend that he was right after his childish and selfish behaviour? You stared at him in disgust. 

“I hate you,” you snapped. 

Jinyoung smirked. “Are you sure? Or do you maybe just hate yourself? Because you’re so proud of always following the company policy and being a stickler for the rules but you can’t even bring yourself to tell the truth. You can fool yourself that you’re better than me all you want. But you’re complicit in this whole deal.”

“Fuck you.”

He chuckled. “What?”

“Fuck. You, Park Jinyoung,” you hissed as you turned to leave. “I can’t even look at you.”

“Are you sure?” Jinyoung called after you with a delighted laugh, as you hurried away. If you stayed then you would surely hit him, and you didn’t want to do that. “Because there’s a rumour around work that you can’t stop looking at my butt!”

You turned back to stare at him in disbelief. What? 

Jinyoung simply grinned. His dark eyes were twinkling mischievously and he lifted the hand carrying his drink to show off his forearm below his rolled-up sleeves. Jinyoung’s dark hair fell into his eyes, and there was something extremely kissable about those plump lips of his as he mouthed the words that made your blood boil. 

I win.

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