#but anyway yah i live comfortably at least physically | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

quagmireisadora · 5 years ago

Text

[Jonghyun / Taemin] Spring Runs in My Blood (Part 1)

Rating: R-ish Warning: none (yet) Genre: soulmate au Length: ~7694 (this part)

A/N: I rarely write JongTae and I never write soulmate aus so, my gratitude to @minhoandthebabes for allowing me to indulge in both with her. Title is a reference to the poem 봄 by Yoon Dongju

------

It wasn't the timer itself but the anticipation of it going off that led Jonghyun to the cafe. Not fate, not kismet. No. It was purely nerves. That's what he told himself later on.

In all honesty, his nerves had been performing calisthenics ever since he'd hit the "three months to go" mark and they'd sat him down for an orientation at work. What to expect and what not to expect, they’d told him--expect to be surprised, pleasantly or otherwise; don't expect sex right off the bat. Everyone went through an orientation like that, he was assured. Everyone was given a full rundown on the physical and emotional changes that were to come in the following… rest of his life, really. That's the standard duration spent with a soulmate, anyway. A lifetime.

So there he was, in the cafe, definitely not predestined to be there and simply craving caffeine before an important meeting with an important client. His head was in the bulky presentation he still needed to review, not on some stupid sequence of numbers on his wrist. Definitely not on the damn numbers, because they caught him by surprise. After all, time doesn't wait. Not for clients and not for meetings.

As he was placing his order, his wrist began vibrating.

"Oh hell…" he mumbled to himself, clutching at the string of green zeros as if to hide a shameful scar. “I can’t do this right now!” he thought as his eyes roved the cafe, looking for other victims of similar misfortune, other people panicking just like him. Anyone else with a soulmate problem? he silently--desperately--called out in his mind. Anyone at all?

Taemin went there often. The wifi was great, the coffee he didn't really care about. Snacks were nice too, and the barista was hot. At least, he'd tried to get her number and she hadn't slapped him, so that was a plus. Many years later as he recounted the memory for guests, he insisted he visited the place to escape his mother's nagging and his brother's domestics.

But really, he only went there for the wifi.

When he was just about to execute a perfect KO against another player, his timer buzzed. He jumped in surprise, yelled out a shocked “shit!”, did everything he wasn't supposed to do. And sent his drink flying onto an old man in a suit.

"Yah!" the man barked indignantly. "What do you think you're doing?!"

"A-ahh…! Why'd you sit so close to me, then?" Taemin complained in response. He looked back at his computer to find he'd been defeated and that his opponent--some guy from Taipei--was sending him all kinds of trash talk in celebration. "Ahhh!" he let out another disappointed sound.

The old man stared incredulously at him. "You punk...! Do you have any idea how expensive this suit is?!" he demanded, waving his lapel wildly, drops of juice flying from the action.

"Do you have any idea how good that drink was?!" Taemin snapped back, a few other patrons within earshot snorted. "What?" Taemin replied to them too. "It was really good, OK?! Had like little bits of pineapple and everything! And now your… stupid expensive suit is drinking all of it. You should be the one sorry to me, ahjussi!"

"Oh, I'll show you sorry--" the man glowered and rolled up his sleeves.

Jonghyun rubbed a hand on his forehead. "These idiots are being too noisy…" he muttered, still looking around. "How will I find that person now?!"

"--you need to watch your tone, young man!" the ahjussi yelled.

"I'm not a young man!" Taemin fought back, then realised that was incorrect. "I mean. I'm young and I'm a man. But. No, wait--" he held his hands out in front of himself to compute the situation, but the buzzing on his arm continued to be a distraction for his already addled brain. "Ahhh this stupid stupid timer going off right now!" he slapped the place like that would help stop it.

Had Jonghyun not been eavesdropping, he wouldn't have caught that. "Wh--what?" he narrowed his eyes, walking over to the scene and addressing the young and disoriented guy. "E-excuse me?" he started.

"Wat?"

"May I see your uhm…" he gestured to the other's arm, holding his own out. "May I see it?"

Taemin looked from the offered limb to the man. "Why?"

Jonghyun rolled his eyes in exasperation and grabbed the guy's hand to compare their timers. The buzzing stopped, a sign that they really were a match. He looked around the cafe and no one else seemed to be coming forward. "You’ve got to be--! Are you really the one?" he demanded, like that made absolutely no sense.

Taemin scratched his head. "The one what?"

It was the ahjussi with the ruined suit who came to their rescue. "Oh… I see," he backed away from them, his threats dissipating. "Uhh. Congrats," he waved his hand dismissively at them and left their side.

As more people around them caught on, they started to clap, the applause growing in a wave until every single pair of eyes in the cafe was on them. Taemin’s confused face slowly split into a grin, and then he waved at the other patrons like he was some kind of celebrity.

Jonghyun, on the other hand, wanted to shrink away in shame.

A barista came over with a tray, a gift set of two matching cups and several coupons for free drinks on it. "Congratulations, sirs," she bowed to them and smiled pleasantly. "Please accept these on our behalf, and make sure to post about this wonderful coincidence on your SNS!” She gestured politely to the large glass front of the cafe. “The nearest Soulmate Depot is across the street. Please be careful on your way, and visit us again soon!"

"Waaahhh~" Taemin accepted the gifts happily. "This is all so--!"

"Unbelievable..." Jonghyun completed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "W-wait," he had a sudden thought. "Are you even eighteen?"

"Why does that matter…?" Taemin scowled before his expression lightened. "Wait, you're gay?!" he pointed a ridiculing finger at the man as he laughed, then stopped with shock in his eyes. "Wait, I'm gay?!" he touched his chest. "But… girls think I'm hot."

Jonghyun nearly swooned and fainted at the stupidity. "Please come with me," he said in a very strict and very formal tone.

"What?! Where?!" Taemin defended himself. But his arm was tugged and he was left with no choice. He packed his things, hurriedly stuffing them into a backpack, and followed the other out.

It had snowed recently. The ground was slippery and the sky overcast. Someone at Jonghyun’s office had circulated news that there was a storm coming later in the week. But considering how insane his day had been so far, he wouldn't have been shocked if the sky started spitting a blizzard down at them any minute. As they walked towards the depot, he hugged his coat closer around himself.

"How old are you?" his inquiry had an impersonal tone.

"Uhh… twenty-six?" Taemin replied, counting on his fingers. "I think?"

You think? Jonghyun wondered if this guy was on drugs. He was sure he couldn’t handle an addict for a soulmate. "Uhm. By any chance, have you completed high-school?" he continued his questions.

"Duh," the other snorted. "I'm not some. Uhh. Imbecile?" he confirmed the word with Jonghyun. "Yeah, yeah. Imbecile. I have a job and all, OK?"

"Oh. May I ask where you work?" Jonghyun stopped walking and took out his phone, held it at the ready to cross-check the information.

"Ahhh why're you asking all this stuff?!" Taemin jiggled a finger in his ear. "So annoying…"

The other grit his teeth, struggling to maintain his composure. "Sir, if we're about to spend the rest of our lives together, I'd feel more comfortable knowing all this.”

"Oh," Taemin blinked. "Fair," he shrugged. "Uhh, I mean. I said I have a job but uhm--"

Here comes the clincher, Jonghyun thought.

"Heh. See, I did have a job. But then I went to the army for two years, and then I had only two months to go on my timer and nobody would give me a job. So now," Taemin chuckled stupidly. "I'm… unemployed?"

It didn't sound as bad as Jonghyun had expected it to be. Maybe not a druggie, just a weirdo. Still bad, but maybe he could learn to live with it. "And… may I ask how you survive, sir?"

Taemin picked his nose as he answered, completely bored now. "Well, hyung found his soulmate last year. They married and get a stipend from the state. And eomma and appa… they do what they can," he said with a noncommittal shrug, getting his hand slapped away from his face by a disgusted Jonghyun.

Moving on from the place and the subject, Taemin blinked at the large blue and white sign above their heads when they’d arrived across the street from the cafe. "I've never been inside one of these…" he spoke with awe, then turned to explain to the other. "You know. Cause I didn't have a soulmate before. But. Now I do. So. Yeah."

"I gathered," Jonghyun spoke from behind gritted teeth. He was losing his patience with all this. "Let's just get this over with."

They were asked to present their wrists to a scanner each. After a series of beeps and blinking lights, the door hushed open for them. They looked around the empty hallway, its walls and ceiling and even carpeting a pristine white.

"Whoa…" Taemin let out.

Soon, a woman with a confident gait walked over and stopped before them with a bow. "Welcome to Nonhyeon Soulmate Depot! Congratulations on beginning your journey together. We hope to give you all the information you need before you can go on and make happy and wonderful memories!" she bowed again and gestured for them to go through a tall set of doors at the far end of the hallway.

They shuffled over together, and a second wrist scan later were allowed into a much larger room filled with desks and cubicles and mechanical apparatus of all kinds.

"Whoa!" Taemin gushed again.

While the place looked full, it wasn't really. Only a handful of other couples were scattered around, seated at different tables. Each was being instructed by pleasant-faced officials, pointing at pamphlets or screens, talking with exaggerated motions, directing them to their next stop.

"Whoa--" Taemin started to express his amazement a third time when he was cut off by an irate Jonghyun.

"I think we should call someone over to help.”

On cue, a woman walked over to them, her air professional but her smile tight like she wasn't impressed with what they had to offer. "Welcome," she bowed as well. "This won't take very long. We've got biometrics over there--" she began to walk, pointing to various cubicles as they passed them. "Blood test over here, general physical test over here, eyesight and hearing here, urine test in the far end over by the toilet signs. And over here--" she stopped at one point. "We'll require your national ID numbers to link you up on our database," she explained. "Standard procedure. We also have an in-house specialist providing advice on pregnancy, but you won't be needing that."

"Oh. Why not?" Taemin asked with some disappointment.

The woman turned to him with exasperation. "Because you're both men. Now, come this way please…"

As they were herded from place to place, Jonghyun was constantly shocked by the man and his ridiculously dumb questions. The officers at the HQ seemed to have a very high threshold for nonsense, but Jonghyun--not a chance. He went eagerly when they separated them for individual interrogation.

In return for his curiosity, Taemin was asked all kinds of questions too. Did he have cancer. Did anyone in his family have cancer. Was he allergic to anything, did he have any phobias, was he currently on any special medication. Was there any history of mental illness in his family, or in his own life. He tried answering as faithfully as he could, even when some of the questions were complicated. Soon, he was starting to feel uncomfortable with all the measuring and weighing and poking and prodding he was being subjected to.

But when they were finally brought to the last counter, he was told he'd get a monthly stipend of five million won with a potential for increase depending on how their relationship progressed. Taemin nearly jumped for joy, doing a little jig when they were reunited again.

"Five-mill-yun, Five-mill-yun," he sang as Jonghyun watched him, embarrassed and wanting desperately to leave. The relief he felt when a woman came up to them and said they were free to go, was unparalleled. He stormed off into the night, wishing this was all a very elaborate nightmare his hysterical brain had conjured up, and that he'd wake up laughing about it.

But, nope.

"Hey…!" Taemin chased him down, almost slipping on ice. "Hey, wait!" he called after the other, reaching him only to keel over and breathe with difficulty. "What's--what's your name, though?!"

"I am Kim Jonghyun," came the stiff reply. "And you are…?"

"Taemin. Lee Taemin," he said with a bright smile. "Sixty-fifth nephew of the great Lee… Lee uhh," he scratched his head. "What was that philosopher dude's name again…?" he asked himself before flapping his wrist to dismiss his own thoughts. "Never mind. Nice to meet you anyway," he nodded and walked beside the guy for several feet.

It was only fifteen minutes later that Taemin stopped in confusion. "Wait, wait. Am I supposed to come with you?"

Jonghyun gave him a deprecating look. "Sir. I understand we are soulmates. But right now, I have more important things to attend to. Please," he gestured back the way they’d come. "Let me be on my way."

Taemin frowned. "But… numbers," he said like that explained everything.

Jonghyun huffed tiredly. "May I have your phone?" he held his own out. When he had both devices, he passed them against each other. "There. You have my details now. May I go?"

Taemin started to nod, but then held up a finger. "W-wait. They gave me--" he fished through the pockets of his large and puffy jacket before pulling out a box of condoms and holding it as if triumphantly. "These."

Jonghyun felt his face burn. "Goodbye!" he barked and scuttled away in urgency.

"So rude…!" Taemin scowled and spun on his heel to walk in the opposite direction. Once again, he made it several steps before he stopped and rang the newly added contact on his phone.

"Yes?!" Jonghyun hissed.

"Uhh, I'm lost. Where's the nearest station?"

Jonghyun nearly burst out in tears. Why did he have to walk into that café?

------

At home, Taemin was asked eager questions by his family. Who was it? What kind of person were they? Where did they live? Were they coming to pick him up that night? Was he moving out soon? He brushed all their inquiries away like he did with anything they'd ever asked of him.

Then he returned to playing video games again.

On the other, posher side of town, Jonghyun's coworkers easily forgave him for being late. The important meeting turned into a discussion about his soulmate, major project stakeholders and clients turning into gossip mongers within the blink of an eye. Jonghyun shifted uncomfortably from the attention to his personal life, happy to finally leave the room when the meeting was adjourned.

"You're happy, though?" Jinki asked him at the end of the day.

"Hardly," Jonghyun tried to keep the whine out of his voice but couldn't help it. "He's an idiot."

Jinki chuckled. "I'm sure he's not that bad."

Little did he know that over the duration of one week, Taemin would be the direct result of ensuing disaster.

To be fair, he did nothing out of the ordinary--he spent his time sitting in front of a screen and stuffing his face with junk food. His phone rang several times, but he ignored it. His mother knocked on his door at mealtimes but he ignored that, too. His hyung finally walked in and tried to fight the game controller out of his hands, but he resisted it until he couldn't.

By the end of the third day, there were weird headaches that lasted hours--pangs that nearly blinded him with tears. Then, his stomach started to get upset, rejecting everything he ate regardless of how healthy and nourishing his mother insisted it was. His father bought a bag of red ginseng to boil for him, his sister-in-law found a good acupuncturist in the neighborhood. They did their best to ignore his stubbornness, to stop his health from failing the way it was. But every remedy every solution was accompanied by the same, very strict advice.

"You need to go be with your soulmate."

Jonghyun knew this would happen, just as he knew he would probably end up suffering the same illness. As time wore on, he felt shittier and shittier and his health got worse and worse. And although Roo’s company would usually comfort him in such times, there was no curing this with puppy tricks and silly games.

When his stomach took a break from heaving its contents, he crawled out of the bathroom and rested against whatever he could find before reaching for his phone. He texted instead of calling. “I assume your condition is just as bad as mine,” he managed to write in formal words, despite the shudder in his hands. “Please come to this location, I believe meeting may help us.”

Taemin, in a daze of sickness and pain, wrote back a “who dis” to the location pin, before rolling away and falling asleep. His phone rang frantically for a long time in response to that, but there was simply no rousing him.

Somewhere across the river, a man let out an agonized and indignant yell of annoyance.

It was several hours later that Taemin could finally gather the strength and fortitude to sit up in bed, then waddle his way out of his room. It took him a long while to stop swooning and shrug on a jacket, leaving his home to the happy encouragement of his entire family. Outside, the air was biting cold, but the sun was out for a change. It reinforced his courage to keep going--he’d feel better soon, he thought to himself. A few minutes out in the fresh air would do him well. Right?

Wrong.

In a cold sweat, hanging off the side of a pedestrian bridge, he threw up again. Walking had been a bad idea. Being outside had been a bad idea. Thinking was a bad idea, too, he realized from under the haze of his splitting headache. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and cursed loudly, answering the call.

“Where the hell are you?” Jonghyun’s impatient voice immediately berated.

“I… I don’t know where I am!” Taemin whined, looking around for signs. “Come--come get me, I’m dying!

“You’re not dying, just… just send me your location, OK? I’ll come to you.”

It took them a while to navigate around each other, sharing directions and several calls filled with colorful language. Jonghyun’s head reeled with more than his sickness, and he had to try very hard not to just give up and fall onto the side of the street himself. But they did finally manage to find each other, and to their credit, Taemin wasn’t yet comatose enough to not recognize his soulmate and latch onto him as soon as he was within arm’s reach.

Relief filled them the minute they came into contact with each other, a long and heavy sigh escaping their mouths in unison. Jonghyun brushed the dirt off of Taemin’s clothes, muttering something about lying on the sidewalk like a homeless man, and then he piled them onto a bus.

By the time they’d arrived at his apartment building, they were both walking upright again.

“Is… this a kidnapping?” Taemin shattered all hope of a civil conversation the minute he opened his mouth.

“Yes,” Jonghyun replied sarcastically. “Man kidnaps his own soulmate, of course, what a terrible and common crime. In what world would that even make sense?!” he yelled.

“Y-you could be into…” Taemin gestured wildly, even though his argument held no conviction. “Organ trafficking!” If he had any other protests to make in that line of thought, they were all invalidated when he was yanked into an elevator.

“Wait… is this your house? Are you taking us to your apartment?” he asked as they waited in the lift car. “Do you have video games?”

“No…” Jonghyun shook his head, frowning. “Why?”

The other made a disgusted face. “What kind of person doesn’t have video games…” he mumbled, pulling out his phone and switching it to game mode. A hologram appeared above his screen, accompanied by the sounds of clashing swords and grunted exclamations.

Jonghyun scoffed, then snatched the device away. “Hey--” he said sternly, putting the device out of reach of the other as a struggle ensued. “Hey, listen to me! I’m bringing you into my house because we need to spend time with each other. Do you understand? That means no video games, no sulking in different rooms, no doing our own things, OK?” he explained. “Do you understand me?”

“Yeah, yeah, stop shouting,” Taemin complained when he gave up, covering his ear and mumbling something about feisty old men. He plodded after the other when they arrived at their floor, hands deep in his pockets and eyes on the carpet. “What are we going to do then?” he pouted as Jonghyun unlocked his front door. “You don’t have video games, you don’t look like a fun guy, and--” he suddenly brightened with an idea.

“Do we fuck?”

Jonghyun let out a choked noise. “N-no!” he denied, hesitating for a minute before allowing the other into his home. “We don’t even know each other yet!”

“But I mean…” Taemin followed his host indoors. “We’re two guys, aren’t we? Are we supposed to fuck? I don’t even know how we would fuck. Do you know how we would fuck? I don’t think we can fuck. What happens if we do fuck? Do I fuck you or do you fuck me? Is fucking even legal between two guys? Are we supposed to fuck in this neighborhood--?”

“Can you!” Jonghyun whirled and covered the man’s mouth. “Stop saying fuck so much?” he hissed. “It’s… it’s making me nervous!”

Taemin frowned, but nodded. But as was in his nature, when he was let go of, he muttered a single and unnecessary “fuck” and then ran away into another room.

“What has my life come to…” Jonghyun sobbed as he watched the other clown around in his apartment, opening door after door and peeking in.

------

When he’d calmed the guy down and handed him a glass of juice, they sat across from each other in the TV lounge, studying one another--or at least, Jonghyun did the studying while Taemin simply hummed tunelessly and sipped from a curly plastic straw. We’re adults, Jonghyun thought to himself. Right? Even if he’s a moron, we’re adults, we can deal with this like adults. This is no big deal.

“So. Uhm. Since you were so enthusiastic about it. Have you uhh…” he made a vague gesture at the man’s torso. “You know. Ever explored? Down there?”

Taemin frowned as he sipped noisily. “What, you mean Australia?” he asked. “No, I’ve never even crossed the equator before. Why’re you asking about travel all of a sudden?”

Jonghyun nearly fainted. No, he realized. We’re not adults. “I’m asking about your… you know! Man things!” he gestured wildly, a jabbing action at the other's crotch.

Taemin let out a low sound of comprehension. "Right, yeah, uhh--" he scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment. "Yeah. Sometimes. When there's. You know. Girl groups on TV and stuff," he shrugged.

"Girl groups," Jonghyun repeated to confirm. "On TV."

"Yeah, why--" Taemin pouted a little, sitting up in the armchair, feeling a little defensive. "You haven't?"

Jonghyun made a motion of the hands as if to say obviously that's a stupid thing to do, and I would never do that. "Wait, so," he started again after an awkward pause. "You… you like girls?"

Taemin scratched his forehead. "I… I've never been with one," he answered honestly. "Never been with anyone."

Jonghyun studied him at that, watched the way he sat, the way he shifted and scratched and worried his lip. Watched his nervous tics and his curious eyes. He leaned back in his chair and watched for a long time--somehow unbothered by how his staring could be perceived by the other. Somehow unconcerned with that etiquette for now.

Growing self-conscious by the minute, Taemin bounced his leg nervously as he looked around the apartment. "You live alone?" he asked before noticing the water dish in the corner. "You… you have a doggy?" he pronounced the word like a kid would.

"Hmm?" Jonghyun perked up a little at that. "You like doggies--I mean. Dogs?" he asked. "I can… I can let her out, if you're OK with them?"

Taemin’s eyes took on a gleam when he nodded eagerly. "Can I pet?"

Roo struggled in Jonghyun's arms, barking at the stranger when he walked her out. With each step she growled, baring her teeth.

Taemin's hand reach out tentatively for her to sniff. When she was satisfied he wasn't a threat she continued her barking until he giggled and offered more of his hand, scratching her neck. "Such a good girl…" he hushed. "How old?" he looked up at Jonghyun with awestruck eyes.

"Two years," the other replied with some pride.

For a while that's all Taemin did, playing with the pup, watching her perform her tricks, feeding her a treat or two, cackling gleefully when she licked his face. Jonghyun watched them with fondness, thinking this wasn't so bad after all. The man was an idiot, yes. And he had no experience with relationships, sure. But at least he wasn't some jerk. At least he wasn't an asshole--at least he wasn't a complete mismatch. That's what Jonghyun had been most afraid of.

Later that day as Roo ate, Taemin sat nearby ruffling the soft fur between her ears. "You want kids, don't you?" he asked his host.

Jonghyun was taken aback by the sudden question. "Why… what makes you say that?"

"My hyung says… he says that only people who can't have kids keep doggies now," Taemin replied.

There was a long silence between them at that, until Jonghyun broke it with an almost unintelligible, "Do you want kids?"

Taemin blinked at the other, looking to where he stood cleaning dishes. "I don't think I could afford to raise a child," he admitted.

Jonghyun took off his gloves and motioned around them at the apartment, at its large space, apparently designed for a family. "You don't have to do it alone, now. We can use both our stipends."

The other shook his head. "I want to use that money to… to help my family."

"Uhh…?" Jonghyun raised an eyebrow at that. "Isn't that money meant for us? For this relationship?" He frowned at Taemin. "Are there… does your family have financial difficulties?"

A nonchalant shrug replied. "Eomma used to work until she hurt her back and appa retired three years ago. Now hyung earns everything in a house of four, so… my stipend will help?" he reasoned. "Why. Do you--should I give that money to you?"

Jonghyun tutted. "No, of course not. But--" his frown deepened. "Why don't you get a job again?"

Taemin whined. "Like I haven't tried?!" he insisted, walking back to the armchair and falling into it with a pout. "They keep giving the job to people with more time, more freedom. Single people. People with no soulmates…" he complained. "Why is it so unfair?"

"That's… that doesn't seem right to me," Jonghyun shook his head, joining the other across the table. "Workplace equality includes people like us. We're protected by the law. You should complain about that to the--"

Taemin excitedly pointed at the other. "That's exactly what I say to them at every interview!" he nearly yelled. "... before they ask me to leave," he wilted in place.

Jonghyun thought about that. He had heard of people leaving the company before, citing an increase in responsibilities once they had a soulmate and a family to look after. He’d heard of it happening to others. But if the truth was that they were being let go in exchange for younger yet-unconnected workers with several years ahead of them before their timers ran out... if that was the truth, he suddenly felt threatened. The boss had said he was up for a promotion soon, would him meeting Taemin change that?

“What uhm...” he tried to allay his own fears by continuing to question the man. “What did you do? Before you went away for your service?”

“I... used to work as an engineer,” Taemin scratched his chin.

“E-engineer?” Jonghyun scoffed, wondering if he should cross-check the information after all. An idiot like this? And engineering? “You’re--you’re not joking, are you?” he confirmed suspiciously.

The other scowled. “No, I’m not.”

Balking, Jonghyun shifted forward in his chair. “Th-that’s...! That’s so prestigious! Why don’t you apply to get your old job back?!”

“Because they don’t want me back!” Taemin insisted. “I called, I sent my CV, I applied for internships--even when I’m not an intern anymore. And they--!” he sunk lower in his seat. “Just give me back my phone. I have a game to finish.”

“Taemin ssi,” Jonghyun said sternly. “There has to be another reason why they’re refusing. Have you ever thought of that? I mean, I still have my job,” he pointed to himself. “There has to be something else, something you’re not doing right--”

“Why did you bring me here if all you’re gonna do is lecture me?” Taemin complained.

The elder sighed. “OK... OK,” he placated. “You don’t want to talk. And I can’t leave you to play games by yourself. What else do you want to do?”

Taemin shrugged, still pouting.

“Have you... ever kissed someone?” Jonghyun inquired, receiving a shake of the head. “Would you like to try it?

Taemin looked around the apartment in confusion. “Who do I kiss?”

“Who do you think?!” Jonghyun demanded in frustration.

“Oh...” the other blinked, then widened his eyes. “Oh! Like two soulmates doing the--” he crossed his fingers together, “The thing. Oh. Yeah. Uhh... OK, then--” he sat forward excitedly, then stopped. “Wait, what am I supposed to do?”

Jonghyun couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him. He move closer, kneeling in front of the other and taking hold of his hands. They were small, he noticed. Soft, small, with a few silver rings on some of the fingers. “I’ll help you,” he assured in a kind voice.

Taemin shifted, unsure. “Do I need to do something?” he asked. “Like... do I hold my breath? Do I close my eyes? Is there a prayer I need to say? Or like a symbol I need to make or--?”

“Just...” Jonghyun held a finger to his own lips and craned in closer. He placed his palm to the side of the man’s face, feeling the hair and skin against his fingertips. The simple contact alone sent his heart into a speeding frenzy, his eyes studying the other for every shift every blink every exhale. There was so much to be read in Taemin’s expression, he realized then. So much sitting unspoken at the corner of those puffy lips, so many dreams in those trusting eyes. As the distance between their mouths narrowed to nearly nothing, he kept his gaze on the other, unfaltering until they were so close he had to let his eyes run out of focus before he blinked them shut.

The contact was so dizzying, Taemin thought he’d fall out of his seat. He’d never thought he’d be kissing a man, much less a man who was his soulmate. He’d also never imagined it would make him feel like there were fireworks going off in every inch of his body, like he lay face-first on a frying pan, the oil spitting as soon as it came in contact with his skin. He reached out for support, finding a pair of shoulders to lean against as his lungs started to burn for lack of air.

Jonghyun moved away a minute, then burst out laughing when he saw the other gasp. “You’re supposed to breathe!” he cracked up.

“How… how am I supposed to know that?!” Taemin demanded.

For once the other’s stupidity didn’t feel as stupid. “How did that feel?” Jonghyun asked, stroking his thumbs over bony knees.

“... wasn’t long enough for me to decide,” a mutter replied.

“Want to go again?”

Taemin frowned in confusion. “Go where--?” he started to ask before the lips were on him again, firmer and more insistent. He noticed more this time around. Their temperature, their softness, the way they slipped against his own mouth like. Like… he tried to compare it to something he knew but this was like nothing else. This was something that couldn’t be compared. So he held onto the strong shoulders and tried kissing back.

When Jonghyun hummed, the sound reverberated against Taemin’s cheek. He gasped once more, for more than breath this time, fingers tightening on the other’s shirt, brows knitting together, eyes squeezed shut, tongue--

The circle of Jonghyun’s arms grew tighter, bringing them closer together. He was filled with an odd sense of validation, of being complete and on the verge of unbelievable happiness. And the closer he pressed Taemin to himself, the larger the feeling became.

When they parted a second time, Taemin felt shaky. “I… I should--” he stood and fell back into his seat, knees weak and thighs trembling. He looked at the other with some shock, some fright, some confusion at the intensity of his feelings. “I’m going home,” he announced when his legs were working again, finding his phone on a table and dashing for the door.

He didn’t stop when the other protested, didn’t stop when he slipped on the stairs, didn’t stop for the traffic signals or the angry ahjussis pushing carts. He ran like there was no tomorrow, like there was a monster coming to swallow him whole if he didn’t get far away soon enough. He raced and wound through the streets, arriving at his parents’ home out of breath and maybe even a little out of his mind.

When his father let him in and asked him what he was doing back so soon, he pushed his way through and locked himself in his room. Sitting with his back to the door, hearing his chest pound in his head, feeling his breath rasp at the ends, he ignored his mother’s concerned knocking and stayed hidden.

------

The curriculum changed every few years, but when Taemin was a child schools would spend a few minutes every week instructing their students about soulmates. Some found each other as babies, their teacher had explained. Some didn’t meet until they were well into their seventies. Some had soulmates across the border while others were destined for someone on the other side of the world. It was a convoluted system that governments often debated on and countries frequently clashed over. But it always found someone for someone else--that was the guarantee people usually lived with. In this massive world filled with people and problems and prejudice, no one was ever alone.

Growing up, Taemin was used to constantly seeing people around him head to a Soulmate Depot hand in hand with strangers, or suddenly announce wedding dates. It was common for friends to stop seeing old friends, for families to be halved, for people to move across the country or even for children to be sent off to someone else’s home when their timers ran out. In the army too, he’d often hear snatches of gossip when a fellow private abruptly disappeared overnight or had to be reassigned public service positions closer to civilian sectors. Countrywide, the Ministry of Emotional Health monitored its citizens’ timers, their connections, and--it claimed--all their unique situations. Everything was controlled with an iron fist, ensuring citizens’ basic rights weren’t violated and any separations were managed quietly, without fuss or media attention. And Taemin... he’d been conditioned, over the years, to accept it all as a natural course of life. A mundane theme from his everyday. Everyone must have a soulmate, everyone must register, and everyone must try to make it work.

It was only when his best friend moved to another country and his brother brought home a bride overnight that he understood the weight, the implication of it all.

Meeting a soulmate in this sterile system, an act celebrated in media and spoken of avidly on morning talk shows--Taemin had come to expect it. What he hadn’t expected was how different the experience would be from his calculations. He’d always thought he would meet a city girl, like his hyung. That they would go on dates for a few months before marrying and settling down, living together, working together, spending the rest of their lives together like all the advertisements on TV. He’d resigned himself to something like that.

Someone like Jonghyun was not in his plans at all.

------

Over the next few days, they lived as they always had until the pain returned with a vengeance. Jonghyun tried to give the other space, tried to leave him alone. Remembering how Taemin had scampered away, he tried not to be too eager or pushy, that would only scare the guy into staying away. But the pain left him feeling as empty as his large apartment. He lay in bed sad and alone one evening, eyes on his phone, hoping for a call or a text. Anything.

In his place, Taemin distracted himself once more with games and food and drinks. He stayed in his room, watched old anime shows he’d already watched years ago, turned a blind eye to the pulsing in his rib cage. Maybe if I stay in once place the feeling will go away, he convinced himself while his health worsened. Yeah, maybe if I do other shit I won’t think about it anymore. He told himself to forget the way Jonghyun’s hands had held him, the way his breath had been warm and his tongue quick. He told himself to forget all of that--but the more he tried, the more space the memory took up in his mind.

He tried whatever he could to not think about the way his stomach turned every time his phone screen lit up with a message and it wasn’t Jonghyun. Eventually, he buried the thing under the mattress, out of sight. He pressed his hands to his ears when his mother asked him why he wasn’t going back, why he was making himself suffer. He yelled and threw a tantrum when his father reprimanded him with a “if you’re not going back, at least look for a job!”

Everything was agonizing. Everyone was an enemy. Finding himself a few blankets, he built a cocoon for his weakened body like it would protect him from the rest of the world. But when his breath shortened and his head began to split, his family couldn’t ignore him anymore.

It was finally Taesun and his annoyance that pulled him out of a pile on the floor and dragged him to their car. “You’re worrying everyone,” he scolded. “We can’t have you sitting at home acting like this. It’s making us feel on edge all the time!” He found Taemin’s phone, fought his brother away to look through the contacts and made a call.

Jonghyun pounced when he saw the number. “Taemin?! Is that you?! Where are you? Do you need me to come get you again--?!”

“Jonghyun ssi,” Taesun stopped him with a chuckle. “This is his brother.”

“Wh-why are you… is he OK? What happened?!”

“He’s with me. I’m bringing him over. He’s uhh--” he looked over at Taemin twitching in the passenger seat. “Look, I apologize for such short notice. Would it be OK if I leave him with you? It only has to be for a few days. You know. Until you two… get used to all this?”

Jonghyun blinked. “Uhh… s-sure? If he’s OK with it?”

“Well, he’s an idiot so,” Taesun laughed a little as he drove them through the narrow streets.

“He’s my idiot now,” Jonghyun murmured, getting out of bed with a groan, taking the support of walls and furniture to maneuver through the apartment.

Taesun smiled at that. “You seem like a good person. I’m not worried anymore. We’ll be there shortly,” he advised. “If you’re going through what he’s going through, please be safe until we get there.”

By the time Jonghyun made it downstairs and negotiated the lobby to arrive at the glass doors leading out, he was a sweaty shivering mess.

Parking nearby, Taesun lugged his as-good-as-comatose brother along until he saw the man sitting outside his building. “He’s all yours,” he handed the kid over when they were within earshot. “Aigoo, this kid… stubborn like you won’t believe!”

Taemin, having spent the whole drive whimpering and scratching at his arms, reached out weakly when he saw Jonghyun, his consciousness slipping away under his pain. But as soon as he was pulled into the other’s arms, he gave a long moan of relief as he clutched desperately and tried to climb onto the man like a child.

“It’s OK,” Jonghyun hushed. “You’re here now, it’s going to be OK.” He noticed the bag. “Are those his things?”

“Ah… yeah, clothes and some other stuff,” Taesun handed it over. “Please. If you need anything at all, just give me a call. Take care of each other,” he waved a hand with concern, hesitant to leave.

Jonghyun nodded and tried to wave back, walking them in and towards the elevator. He felt his strength returned little by little, felt his senses clear the longer he held Taemin in his arms. “You’re OK now,” he murmured. “You’re safe now, I’ve got you.”

Taemin shivered, burrowing into the other’s neck. “Yeah...” he managed, his mind still not entirely whole. When he heard the sound of an excited dog in the distance it only made him hold on tighter.

Jonghyun, feeling the strain of carrying the other all the way in, finally sat him down on the sofa and crouched before him like he had only days ago. “Do you need anything?” he asked. “Anything at all? Food, water…?” But his questions fell on deaf ears. The exhaustion of their time apart and the comfort of their meeting had clearly taken a heavy toll on the other. His head lolled forward as he started to fall asleep.

Taemin felt a pair of lips press against his forehead before his mind took him away.

When he awoke, he was alone, in a strange room on a strange sofa… no. Bed. He sat up in confusion. “What the…?” he began before a very adorable and very familiar doggy jumped onto him.

“Oh! Roo!” he grinned, gathering her into his arms. “Hello~” he carried her out of the room, following the smell of food. “Hmm, looks like your appa’s cooking us something nice? Isn’t he? Isn’t he, you cute little baby? Isn’t--?”

Jonghyun turned to look at him with eyebrows raised. “You like sausages?” he asked.

Taemin blinked. “Will you cut them like octopuses?” he asked, leaning against something as his giddiness still came and went in waves. “Eomma always cuts them like that for me…”

“Are you twelve?” Jonghyun ridiculed, but did as he was requested. “Your hyung seems nice,” he commented as he worked. “Poor guy looked so stressed. You’re a real troublemaker in your house, aren’t you?”

“No…!” Taemin protested, letting Roo run off and making his way to the fridge. “I just. Have a strong personality, OK?”

“Let me guess,” Jonghyun chuckled, holding the bowl of rice and sausages out to the other. “That’s something your eomma says, isn’t it?”

There was no more exchanged between them. Taemin’s appetite kicked the door in hard. He finished his bowl, took seconds and even thirds. Then he washed it all down with a bottle of juice, found yogurt and cut fruit in the fridge. Jonghyun made the mistake of leaving him alone while he showered, and when he returned all the boiled eggs and baby carrots and cheese slices were gone.

“Can we order pizza?” Taemin asked, still sitting on the floor in front of an ajar and now sad-looking fridge.

“What the fuck?!” Jonghyun balked at his raided pantry. “You even ate all the side dishes my eomma sent last week!”

“I… I was hungry!” Taemin defended.

“You ate what would’ve lasted me a month!”

“I told you I was hungry! Why don’t you pay attention? Why don’t you listen when I’m talking Why don’t you--?!” Taemin’s stomach grumbled and he clutched at it. “Ugghh so hungry…” he whined.

Jonghyun held his head in his hands.

Some time later, with a slice of pizza in one hand and his phone in the other, Taemin lounged on the living room floor as he chuckled along to stupid memes online. He entertained himself like this for a while until he noticed his host fuming at him.

“W-what?” he asked self-consciously.

“Put your phone away,” Jonghyun ordered, an edge to his voice, his face only softening when Taemin did as he was told. “Now. We’re going to spend some quality time together. And we’re going to learn to live with each other.” He patted the space next to him on the sofa. “Come here. Let’s watch a movie together. Then we’ll go out. Someplace warm. Like a cafe, OK?” he offered.

Taemin nodded slowly. “O-OK.”

#jongtae #long fic #shinee

7 notes · View notes

riseofmoonxchild · 6 years ago

Text

thunderstorms with jin.

jin x reader // fluff, drabble - (ft. namjoon)

You’re scared of thunderstorms, so you call Jin.

✰

The sun was just about to set, yet the sky grew so dark that you would have thought it was the middle of the night. At first, the only sound outside was the humidity. The air somehow as comforting as the blankets and pillows you were wrapped in. However, when the sky began darkening, all you had to do was head to your kitchen to get a glass of water and crawl back in bed, which was just about the size of your room, before a heavy wind settled. As the thickness of the storm grew so did your anxiety.

Your room was literally just big enough to fit your twin-sized bed and your desk just a few steps away, you could have reached it from where you were laying. All that was in the room besides that was a window just next to you, a small pathway to the door which led to the rest of your apartment, not much larger than your bedroom itself, and your cat Mochi. He was hiding under the desk. You beckoned him to curl up next to you, but he knew all of your tricks and fell for none of them. “Scaredy cat,” you retorted, rolling over and turning your back to him as you silently pouted.

You had tried to hide yourself in under your blankets and ignore the imminent storm. Immediately, rain started pouring. At first the sound was gentle, so you allowed it to lull you asleep. But then it quickly became overpowering, making it so you couldn’t see anything but rain and the collision it made with the pavement outside. You winced when you could sense flashes of light, making you feel anxious because you knew that you would hear thunder just as intense as the brightness of the lightning.

As much as you didn’t want to admit it, the rumbling of the thunder scared you. You could feel it vibrate your house it was so powerful. Mochi scattered out of the room, as you had left the door cracked open, to find a less exposing hiding spot.

Though your bed was only meant for one, and occasionally the addition of your cat, you could feel an absence as heavy as the rainfall outside. You felt like this when you became anxious on stormy nights or wistful during light rainfalls. You picked up your phone as you were under the covers and called the only person who could fill that gap and make you feel at ease, “Jin..”

“Wae..?” He answered drowsily, “What is it?” The smoothness in his voice was absent, but you found that the grogginess comforted you. You felt you were conversing with a Jin that only he allowed himself to reveal in front of you that way.

Another sound of thunder erupted. You were only wearing a tank top but that’s not why you shivered.

It had been a few hours since the storm started, and it was now really late. “I’m sorry I woke you..” Though this type of weather made you afraid to be alone, it was the first time you were calling Jin because of it. You wanted to at least hear his voice, feel some part of his presence, so that he could ease your anxiousness. “It’s just that I can’t sleep.”

You sat up on the edge of your bed, your blanket wrapped around you but your bare feet exposed and touching the floor.

He must have sensed there was something wrong with your voice, sense some part of your uneasiness. He didn’t sound sleepy any more. But the grogginess was still there. After a pause, he answered, “It’s okay. I’ll stay with you on the phone until you can."

"Okay."

"Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

Jin’s voice, or just his presence, must had soothed you so much that when the next sound of thunder approached you practically jumped. You heard muffled sounds coming from your phone, but in a split second a bright flash of lightning illuminated your whole room so you braced yourself by diving back onto your bed, making sure your face was buried in your pillow. You must have chucked your phone across the room in the process, because you noticed it lying on the floor.

You grew enough courage to escape from the safety of your bed and bend down to pick it up. The screen was cracked and it was turned off, permanently. You silently cursed.

However, you didn’t have much time to freak over your broken phone before the power went out. You had your desk lamp on, hating the idea of only having the illumination of frequent lightning strikes. You checked the lights in your apartment hall, reluctantly, just to verify that it was a blackout. It was.

You sighed, more out of uneasiness than disbelief. You rushed back to your bedroom as you heard more thunder, the kind that made you feel it could shake the entire building. You jumped back in your covers, grabbing a flashlight from under your bed.

Then you heard a knock at your door. It surprised you, so you just laid in bed, registering it for a moment. The only thing you could think of was that it was Jin, concerned about the disconnection. His dorm was only a few blocks away after all.

You dismissed the idea, just as the knocking continued. Extremely reluctantly, you inched your way out into the more open space of your living area and then the front door.

You answered, probably looking ridiculous due to lack of sleep, a blanket wrapped over your head, and a flashlight in one hand with your other on the doorknob, just staring at your neighbor, who had knocked on your door, slightly wildly but more paranoid about nothing in particular.

Namjoon lived right across the hall from you, “Hey, can I borrow a flashlight? I keep tripping over things just trying to find mine.” He didn’t seem phased by your appearance, just physically in pain. He winced as he rubbed his forehead, “It was kind of a challenge to get over here.”

You looked at him as if you were concerned, for his tendencies towards mayhem that was. "Yeah, sure." Namjoon was usually always asked you for odd favors, usually to borrow or fix something, even though you kept telling him you were as good as fixing things as he was at keeping them fixed.

"Hey, Namjoon, do you have a cell I could borrow? I kind of broke mine."

"I see our roles have reversed," he laughed lightly, then stopped, "I left it in my apartment.. So I'll have to get it and bring it back.."

Uncertain about the idea, you just handed Namjoon the flashlight you had in your hand instead of searching fifteen minutes to find him another one, "You'll need it more than me."

Since your neighbor left, you tried finding yourself another flashlight, taking a moment every two minutes to wrap your blanket in front of your face. You felt ridiculous.

Before you could succeed in your search, you heard another knock at the door, expecting Namjoon but finding a soaking wet- "Jin!"

"Yah, Y/N!" He scolded feebly, eyes wide, sounding more scared than upset. You could tell he had been genuinely worried. "Y-You sounded so scared over the phone, and then the connection was suddenly cut off..” You could also tell he was a bit out of it.

"Sorry!" You exclaimed, feeling how drenched Jin was in his black hoodie. He walked in and closed the door behind him, taking in a breath as if he was exhausted and taking of his hood. The ends of his hair were wet and sticking to his face and back of his neck. "My phone broke.. Or well I broke it.." you stayed as if you were guilty. "Sorry I made you come all the way over here.. I didn't know you would get so worried that you'd.. well, in the pouring rain and.. I mean it's lightning outside, Jin! Why'd you come over?"

He was unzipping his hoodie now, causing you to notice that his inside shirt was a little damp.

Another flash of lightning. You braced yourself this time by squeezing your eyes shut. Jin, who was right in front of you, your forehead inches from his chest, calmly placed his hands over your ears before you had the chance to. Despite his collected demeanor, he shook a little. You couldn't tell if it was him shivering from the cold or because of the thunder.

"I was worried because I know how much you hate thunder.. You just never called me before.. I didn't want you to be alone," he stated quietly. It was a statement Jin made very affectionately, allowing you to feel some sort of assurance that he was trying to take care of you, even though he may not have known what he was trying to say.

You smiled at the floor, his hands still cupped around your ears. Taking both his hands, you placed them back at their sides and quickly ran to your room. You returned with a hoodie he had lent you awhile ago. It was in the bottom drawer of your desk, but you admitted you took it out every once in awhile when you missed Jin the most. Fortunately he had been away to make you feel like that for awhile. There was something about him that always lingered, made you feel looked over and cared after constantly.

You conveniently returned back to your room, continuing your search for your flashlight. You didn't really need it, and you had only used one for some kind of comfort which you didn't really need while Jin was here, but you needed something to do instead of blush and wait for Jin to change his t-shirt. He would have secretly waited for you to be not be paying attention until he did anyway, even if that would have given him only twenty seconds.

Jin was now in his hoodie, sitting at the edge of your bed, as you pulled out the flashlight you really didn't need from under your bed. You had to admit it was more of a challenge than it should have been.

He just looked at you, a little affectionately, a small smiling playing at the edges of his lips, as you tried really hard to keep yourself calm with the thunder. Though you had to admit it was easier with Jin present. You looked at him and noticed the wet ends of his hair and the soft look on his face that never seemed to leave.

You two didn't really have to talk to enjoy each other's company. Especially now when Jin knew all you needed was for him to be there. It was for something actually quite small, a little quirk about you, but it made you appreciate him a lot more.

Suddenly, you heard another knock at the door, a subtle resemblance of the banging thunder outside. It was so startling, you jumped a bit, but Jin almost leapt of the bed in terror.

The knocking continued, and you noticed him lean over on both his hands on the floor, taking in a sigh of relief. You couldn’t help but laugh, placing an extra blanket on him. He wrapped it around himself and sat up, his face distraught. You couldn’t help but take in the moment.

Before you could get the door, he stood up determinedly, “I’ll get it,” he stopped you.

“It’s probably Namjoon, to return my flashlight,” you followed after him.

“Who is Namjoon? And why does he have your flashlight?” He questioned, exasperated. Jin opened the door, to find an apologetic looking Namjoon.

“Oh-“ he was caught off guard, “Hey, Y/N. Thanks for letting me borrow your flashlight, I found mine.”

Jin just shook his head in acknowledgement. “No problem,” you said behind Jin, and he closed the door, seemingly annoyed.

You were confused for a moment, until you realized he was just upset over the fact that Namjoon had scared him.

You thought his pouting was a bit cute, and as he turned to go back to your room, you were about to tease him. You looked at Jin, scrunching up your nose, and he returned a soft look, easing the tenseness in his face. Without warning, a crack of thunder split through the air and you both flinched.

Jin immediately grabbed your hand, yelling a short “woo” as he dashed back to your room and then launched onto your bed. Nervously giggling, you quickly followed and fit yourself in the space between Jin and your desk.

He just wrapped your blanket around you and hugged you. His shoulders were so broad and his embrace so big, you fit perfectly and completely in his arms.

You wrapped your arms around his waist as tightly as you could, and somehow you both ended up like that on your bed, completely wrapped up in each other. The storm still remained steady, but you were completely fine, listening to Jin talk about things like what he was going to for his next EatJin, the misbehaviors of Odeng and Eomuk, or how you really should play with Mochi more so he wasn't so grumpy with you, because of course the cat liked Jin more than you. For awhile you were both facing each other, breathing and laughing over the smallest things Jin said or how you had spontaneously and wistfully (over the idea of being able to actually cook) whispered, "Teach me how to cook," while you were listening to him in the same space.

After awhile, Jin had turned on his back, just staring at the ceiling, while you were right up against him and his right arm was under your head and playing with your hair, his free hand behind his head. The whole time he never ceased to soothe you with the sound of his talking, and you him with your soft laughs, until you both had completely calmed. Eventually you both were sleeping as soundly as children, totally relaxed, hearts light by soaking in the presence of each other.

☾

——————————————————————————————————

☽

6.2.19_

A/N: so this is a little bite-sized fluff I wrote a long time ago (like years, ahah). but I like re-reading it when I need something soft (or just jin). it’s perfect for summer-y, rainy nights, so i thought i’d share, enjoy~ ♥♥

22 notes · View notes

themyskira · 6 years ago

Text

The Life of Captain Marvel - issue #1

So here we are. Issue #1 of The Life of Captain Marvel, the miniseries that was touted as a bold new origin story that would change everything we thought we knew about Carol Danvers.

And it starts strong by exploiting family violence, trauma, mental illness and traumatic brain injury for melodramatic effect, with no intention of dealing with any of these complex themes in any depth or sensitivity.

For all that, infuriatingly little actually happens in this first issue. No exaggeration, the issue actually includes a stretch of nine months wherein Carol essentially does nothing except mope and grow her hair out. The dang plot doesn’t even arrive until the final seven pages.

Content warning: This issue begins with a flashback to Joe Danvers verbally abusing and hitting his kids. I haven’t included any images, but I talk at some length about Margaret Stohl’s abysmal handling of themes of abuse and family violence. Just a heads up.

The story opens on a flashback to an idyllic childhood holiday in Harpswell, Maine. There’s a montage of Carol and her brothers flying kites, wrestling each other, splashing in the water and stuffing their faces with candy, while adult Carol muses that she used to think her family was perfect.

Then the flashback takes a turn. One of Carol’s brothers rips the kite from her hand, tearing it. Their father, Joe, descends on the boys in a rage and begins verbally abusing and physically beating them as Carol looks on, because — surprise! — it’s Traumatic Past Retcon time!

Goodbye Joe Danvers, well-meaning but hard-headed dad who’s never understood his daughter and whose approval always seems to be out of reach. Hello Joe Danvers v. 2.0, scary unpredictable drunk who hit his kids and terrorised his entire family. Aren’t comics fun?

The flashbacks are interspersed with shots of Carol in the present day, where she’s battling supervillains Tanalth and Moonstone. As the flashback progresses, present-day Carol lashes out violently, alarming friends and foes alike.

“That’s why fighting’s easier than remembering. I tell myself that if I’m strong enough… I’ll beat the memories down so hard they’ll never come back.”

What’s strange to me about this page is the way it deliberately draws a parallel between Joe, snarling and raising his fist to strike his powerless young children, and Carol, snarling and raising her fist to strike down a powerful villain. By implication, it places Carol in the role of abuser, indicating an intergenerational cycle of violence.

Which of course is never explored or discussed beyond this, because Stohl doesn’t want to actually talk about the lasting impacts and terrible toll of family violence, she just wants to exploit it for THE DRAMAS.

As Joe whales on his sons, kid!Carol tries to run to their defence, only to be held back by mother Marie, who tells her, “You’ll just make it worse. Now’s not the time.”

We will be told numerous times over the course of this book what an incredible, loving mother Marie Danvers is, and how she’s prepared to sacrifice everything for Carol. Her actions, though? Her actions consistently portray a woman whose number one interest is in not creating more work or emotional angst for herself, even when it means hanging Carol out to dry.

This is not to say that Marie isn’t a victim as well in this scenario: though she never fears for her life or safety (she could pummel Joe into the ground without breaking a sweat), it could well be that constant gaslighting and emotional abuse have left her feeling unable to oppose her husband in anything.

It could well be, but that is nuance that Stohl is not interested in exploring, and all we get throughout this miniseries is Marie making excuses for Joe’s abusive behaviour and prioritising her own comfort over Carol’s emotional wellbeing and safety.

So anyway, flashback!Marie says “Now’s not the time”, and in the present day Carol shrieks “WHEN - IS - THE TIME?!” while damn near beating Moonstone into a pulp.

The other Avengers are disturbed by this.

Iron Man: Hey, Carol? Could you maybe leave a little something on the plate for… you know… bad guy jail? Black Panther: Would you call that rage… disproportionate?

hellooooo unfortunate paternalistic implications. A female superhero has a hysterical outburst on the battlefield, while her almost exclusively male colleagues look on in bewilderment. (‘This is why women can’t be superheroes, they’re too emotional!!!’)

Cap and T’Challa have to physically pull Carol off Moonstone, as Carol begins to hyperventilate.

Adding to our list of things that this series has zero interest in exploring:

What it’s like to experience a panic attack or traumatic flashback

What it’s like to live with an anxiety disorder

What it’s like to live with trauma

The Carol of this story is not a woman living with trauma and mental illness, she is a woman who swoons hysterically whenever the narrative starts drag a bit. Her panic attacks are purely a plot device used to ratchet up the dramatic tension at convenient moments, and it’s some of the most insensitive handling of mental illness I’ve seen in comics for a while.

Next comes the obligatory scene of Carol getting a full medical in Tony’s lab, only for Tony to throw his hands up and declare, ‘welp, there’s nothing physically wrong with you, are you sure there’s not something else going on????’. Because apparently neither Tony — who has personal experience with trauma — nor Steve — who lived through a FUCKING WAR — know PTSD when it’s punching them (well, Tanalth and Moonstone) in the face.

I mean REALLY.

Tony: Look, the breathing thing is probably some kinda nervous tic.

hi, hello, person with an anxiety disorder here, please do not tell somebody having a full-blown panic attack that it’s just a ‘nervous tic’, you absolute insensitive fuckstick.

Carol: [sigh] It’s… Father’s Day. Not my favourite day of the year, you know?

waitwaitwait, so CAROL recognised that she’d triggered and experienced a traumatic flashback, but for some reason decided to play dumb about it until she’d after she’d had a pointless medical examination??

Tony tells Carol she needs to get herself sorted out or else somebody is going to get hurt, so she goes to visit her mother and younger brother Joe Junior at the family’s holiday home in Maine.

Carol flies into town past a sign that reads, “Harpswell Sound / Summer Home of Captain Marvel” Carol: [narration] Oh, brother.

‘Oh, brother’ is right. I guess at least it isn’t as embarrassing as the time Stohl introduced a D-grade Captain Marvel TV series.

“Sugar’s Donuts / Official Donut of Captain Marvel”

hoookay yep that’s a bit much now.

At the donut shop, Carol runs into childhood friend Louis Lee, who’s grown into a Designated Love Interest with an obnoxious phonetically-spelled accent

“Better keep that to yah self, Ms. Danvers. Wouldn’t wantitah get out that yah cheatin’ on us…”

I despise him already.

Carol goes up to the house and hangs out with her mother and brother. Over dinner, Marie and JJ ask her why she’s dropped by so suddenly. Carol evades and JJ blows up at her because apparently he’s been holding in some anger about how he feels she abandoned the family and didn’t even bother to come home when their dad was terminally ill. (Which, hey, here’s another potentially rich thread to explore — PITY IT NEVER COMES UP BETWEEN THEM EVER AGAIN.)

Carol shoots back that he knows full well she was avoiding home because of their abusive father, only to be interrupted by the door slamming as their mother walks out.

…eeeeeexcept apparently that was an art mistake, because the very next page is Carol chasing after her brother, the one who actually stormed out. She finds him at their father’s grave, drinking booze.

He offers his recovering alcoholic sister the bottle, and when she lightly turns it down he gripes that she’d always thought she was better than everybody else and she should feel free to piss off any time now. Then he gets into his car and Carol lets him drive home drunk like the responsible person she is.

“Part of me knew I should go after Joe Jr. I mean, nobody in my family was any good with a bottle.”

WHAT IN THE HELL, CAROL.

But nah, see, she has more important things to do, like scream at her dead father and desecrate his headstone, because that’s sure not going to upset her family further, nope.

Her little tantrum is interrupted by the sound of tyres screeching and a car plunging off a bridge because YOU FUCKING MORON you stood there and watched your brother stagger drunk into his car and made the conscious decision that ‘nah, I’m gonna let this one play out’.

and ohohohohoho how ~poetic~! He crashed right through the ‘Summer Home of Captain Marvel’

god I hate everything in this comic.

JJ is rushed to hospital, where he is diagnosed with a traumatic brain injury, leaving him in a catatonic state.

And of course, Stohl’s Carol makes it all about her-fucking-self.

“In an instant, everything changes. You ruin someone’s life… it ruins yours right back. You’d give everything to have gone after him… and acted like the hero you’re supposed to be.”

Yes, JJ is in a coma with a traumatic brain injury, but let’s talk about how his near-fatal car accident ruined Carol’s life.

Anyway— NINE MONTHS LATER.

No, really.

We just skip over nine months.

Wherein apparently Carol has been doing nothing but poor-me-ing over her brother’s hospital bed.

Like.

She gave up her entire life and career.

Stopped saving the world.

Stopped interacting with everybody.

Just sat by JJ’s hospital bed looking melancholy and growing her hair out so that comic bros would stop complaining that she looked like a lesbian.

Tony tries texting her and she turns off her phone. So he appears beside her in an explosion of pixels.

which-- how?!?

There’s no visible technology at work here, nothing to indicate what’s projecting his image or enabling the two of them to communicate. Tony might as well be speaking to Carol via magic, for all we can tell.

Christ, it’s a superhero comic, it’s not like you have to work that hard to sell it to the reader. Two lines of dialogue: ‘What the actual hell, Tony?’ ‘Well, you wouldn’t return my calls, so I [insert technobabble here].’ That’s all you need. How lazy can you get?

Tony asks her to come back to the Avengers — we miss you, we need you, this isn’t good for you, etc. — and Carol’s like, ‘nah, I’m too busy wallowing in self-pity’.

And yes, like Carol’s PTSD and panic attacks, like the family violence, JJ’s brain injury exists solely here as a plot device. It’s not a disability he lives with or a trauma he survives, it’s a vehicle to bring melodrama to Carol’s story and a weakly-fabricated excuse for Carol to stay with the family and discover what she’s about to discover.

Because now it’s time to bring the still-catatonic JJ back home. And since the downstairs living room is more accessible than his upstairs bedroom, he’ll be taking the couch, where Carol has been crashing.

Yes, even though Carol has her own childhood bedroom in this house — we see it next issue — she has been couch-surfing for nine months. But now that somebody else has claimed her spot, she’s got to move into… JJ’s bedroom.

So she goes up the room and rather rudely starts going through her catatonic brother’s wardrobe and pulling his clothes out to make room for her own shit. Again, I cannot stress enough that she had her own bedroom in this house. She’s just… weirdly choosing to impose on everybody else.

In the wardrobe, Carol finds a box belonging to her dead father. The box contains a love letter, in Joe’s handwriting, addressed to a woman who is not his wife — along with what is obviously a piece of alien technology.

This is a comic with a goddamn identity crisis. It keeps tossing out plot hooks, only to abandon them pages later in favour of the next shiny idea.

It begins by announcing, ‘This is a story about Carol returning home and confronting her childhood trauma.’ Then it abruptly swerves: ‘wait, scratch that, this is a story about Carol struggling to hold her fractured family together after her brother is hurt in an accident she had the power to prevent’, and then, ‘hold up hold up what we meant to say was, this is a story about Carol discovering a hidden truth about her family and parentage’.

It’s like Stohl doesn’t know editing exists. Because spoiler alert: this story is not about either of those first two things. The first fifteen pages of this issue are a dead fucking weight. They do not need to be there, and in fact a lot of problems could have been solved by cutting them.

Carol decides to spend some time with her family because she’s working through some personal shit, and discovers a letter hinting that her late father was leading a double life. That’s it; that’s the story.

All these convoluted logistics around who gets the couch and who gets the bedroom? Not necessary. Again, Carol has a bedroom in this house. Since she’s not around much, it makes sense that Marie might be using it as a general storage space. So: Carol is staying in her old room and has to shift a few boxes to make space. In the process, her dad’s shoebox gets knocked loose from whatever nook it was stuffed into. THERE. EASY. DONE. PLOT UNLOCKED.

Like, the car accident actually makes it harder to get Carol to that point. The only reason I can see for it being there at all is to force the passage of time so that Carol can grow her hair out and dudebros can stop complaining that she’s unattractive. Because I guess it just never occurred to anybody that they could draw her with long hair to start with?

But ‘oh no, the aliens and the superpowers I can accept, but in the last comic I read Carol had short hair and I AM SORRY BUT there is NO WAY human hair grows that fast, this is BEYOND THE PALE’.

Oh, and can we talk about how Carol’s response to finding OBVIOUS ALIEN TECHNOLOGY is to go, ‘huh, I wonder what this is, let’s see if I can open it by smashing it repeatedly with a hammer’??

Carol: Huh. Let’s see if we can open it. [starts bashing the device wildly] Gah! Why — won’t — you— Marie: [off-panel] Carol! Can you help me with Joe’s tube? Carol: [wandering off as the device activates] Coming, Ma!

And then IMMEDIATELY GETS DISTRACTED AND WANDERS THE FUCK OFF, failing to notice that the OBVIOUS ALIEN DEVICE has suddenly activated and is now beeping ominously????

So while Carol blunders around obliviously, the obvious alien device sends a signal to a galaxy far far away, which in turn activates what is seriously and embarrassingly called a Kree Kleaner. A small spherical vessel orbiting a distant planet lights up and begin speeding towards Earth, while inside some kind of Kree cyborg gestates and grows to maturity at a rapid rate.

Meanwhile Carol sits by the sea with Digital Tony and mopes that “I knew my family wasn’t perfect… but I thought love was”.

you.

you fucking.

Look, I recognise that trauma is complicated and that family shit is even more so. I know people process and cope with things in different ways and at different speeds. And for Carol to suddenly discover that, on top of all the grief he was causing at home, her father was leading some kind of secret life with another women, must surely feel fucking horrible and bring up a lot of deeply painful memories.

But her reaction doesn’t gel with everything Stohl has told us about Carol’s relationship with her father.

We’ve been told that Joseph Danvers was a physically and verbally abusive alcoholic who terrorised his family to the point where, to this day, Carol struggles with PTSD and anxiety attacks. We’ve been told that Carol thinks of him as a mean, violent drunk who even in death haunts her family. She doesn’t understand why her mother stayed with him or why her brother still defends him, when all he ever did was make all of them feel small and powerless.

The idea that Carol would think all of this and yet still be totally blindsided to learn that Joe and Marie’s marriage was not a true-love-fairytale-romance is utterly, outrageously laughable.

Stohl presents the letter as bombshell that overturns everything Carol thought she knew about her family, indicating that Joe was leading a secret life she never knew about. It’s not. All it is is a confirmation of everything we’re told Carol already thinks about her father: that he was a cruel, self-absorbed bastard who treated his family like crap. You know what is a fucking bombshell?

The fact that Joe Danvers apparently had personal access to OBVIOUS ALIEN TECHNOLOGY.

AND AS FOR THIS LINE.

“And like they say, families were made to be broken.”

literally nobody says this.

I even checked, just to be fair to this comic, on the off-chance that it was in fact a thing.

One of the six search results is somebody on instagram quoting this comic. The other five are all related to the title of a single playlist on 8tracks.

But hey, like they say, Margaret Stohl is a fucking hack.

#comics talk #the days of our lives of captain marvel

16 notes · View notes

wordsturnintostories · 6 years ago

Text

...and then it was dark.

Yoongi | Jungkook

Masterlist

Summary: What it says in the title. This is a Power Outage situation with one of the members of Bangtan. Word Count: 1,800 Author’s Note: Of course Kookie's oneshot turned out longer than Yoongi's. Leave it to my brain to throw content at me for one member and then pretend like nothing works for another. Anyway, I hope you like it. :)

You sigh as you step into the relatively but still surprisingly cold air outside the shower. Quickly, a towel wraps around your body and you find comfort in the soft cotton. It’s not often that you block any bathroom for a long time but today is an exception. Today, you really need it. And today, it’s even justified. After the debacle that was your landlord’s attempt at fixing the broken heaters of your apartment himself and predictably making everything worse, introducing you to three weeks of ice showers, Namjoon has kindly offered to let you shower in the boy’s apartment.

“'Scientifically proven to be beneficial to health', my ass,” you’d muttered under your breath while trying to survive the first five seconds of your first cold water shower. When your landlord had the nerve to downplay the mess his nonexistent plumbing skills had caused, labeling the cold water as “melted glacier water, just like in the mountains!”, you’d just huffed angrily and stomped back into your apartment. He’d been lucky he’d already taken care of getting some actual plumbers. You don’t know what you might have done if not. So, you’d given plenty of thanks to Namjoon and the others in response to the kind offer. They had insisted it was nothing, that warm showers should be included in the list of basic human rights (amen) and that their shower was nothing special and full of care products for men (true, although you couldn’t believe your eyes when you saw the stacks of (expensive) makeup in there) and still, you didn’t accept their nonchalant way of swiping their own kindness under the rug, so you promised to cook dinner for them tonight. The thought of cooking accompanies you while you put on your own makeup (but damn, Taehyung uses the same base nuance as you, who knew). You still have no idea what to cook. Being so close with the boys had the advantage of knowing what they liked to eat (almost anything), but it is still a task to pick a meal that is a) easy to make, b) easy to make a lot of, c) tasty when it’s you making it and d) kind of adherent to their recent diet plans. (You still thank God that Jin and Jimin had both insisted they assist you because you know that those two are informed about everyone’s diets.) Just when you open the door to go to the living room, all thoughts about cooking disappear in an instant, like steam in the extractor hood. You halt, looking left and right, but there are no answers to your questions. The apartment is wrapped in a) darkness and b) silence. Which basically never occurs, especially not when you’re over. You’ve just taken one step outside the bathroom when a few dull steps on the carpet floor reaches your ears. Steps coming towards you. You try to fight the uneasiness that rushes through you. Had something happened during your shower? Was there someone else in the apartment? You curse while your mind already draws images. A stalker breaking into the apartment, a burglar, a kidnapper, a murderer…? The darkness is unnerving, you can’t see anything besides the tiny bit of carpet that the flickering light from the candles behind you reaches. Goosebumps settle on your skin. Where are the boys? Did something happen to them? Why is it so quiet?

Then, something crashes somewhere else and you shriek, cutting the silence in half. Hasty footsteps. A figure crashes into you, a hand clamps down on your mouth and you scream into it. “Sweetie, it’s just me,” Jungkook mumbles into your ear, “I didn’t mean to scare you, sorry.” He doesn’t waste any time in dragging you back into the bathroom and closing the door. “Jungkook!” Your voice is a hiss. You can’t figure out how to calm your heart. At least your boyfriend gets the message. “Did I really scare you that much? I’m sorry, really. I didn’t mean to scare you at all. Hey, are you okay?” Only when his arms are wound around you, pulling you against his broad chest, you nod. Jungkook’s heartbeat thrums steadily, only a little faster than usual. “I’m fine now. Why is it so dark out there?” It’s difficult to make out Jungkook’s expression in the semi-dark but you would swear you see a grin on his face. “Oh boy,” you groan, “what did you do now?” “Just…wait,” he says, sticking his head out the door to carefully scan the hallway, left and right. You send him a look. “What exactly are we doing here, Jungkook-ssi?” He frowns at your formal way of addressing him. “Hiding.” “From what?” “Not from. For. We’re waiting for me to be crowned king.” “King of Korea? Kpop? Bunny teeth?” Jungkook laughs, sitting down on the bathtub’s edge and jumping up with a yelp as soon as the residual water on the surface draws into his jeans. Oops. You may or may not have forgotten to wipe that dry. Still waiting for an answer, you put down all the stuff you’re holding and sit down on the ground opposite to him. When he notices that all of the tub’s edge is somewhat wet all over, he sits down shoulder-to-shoulder with you. You’re about to ask something else when voices that sound suspiciously like the other members’ voices appear in front of the closed door, prompting Jungkook to once again slap his hand over your mouth. He raises his pointer finger to his lips, asking you to be quiet. Through the door, you can hear Hoseok and Namjoon talk. However, the sound of your beating heart and the sudden rush of adrenaline make it hard to distinguish meaning and sound so you turn back to your boyfriend. He giggles softly when the danger passes and you can’t help but admire how prettily the golden glow of the candles accentuates the youthful expression of his face, the shimmer of mischief in his eyes and even the delicateness of his eyelashes. When his eyes suddenly fall on you, you freeze. Caught, your first instinct is to hide your face in your hands. Don’t let him see the blush. But he catches your hands, even going so far as to reach for your cheek and guide your face up to make eye contact with him. So gentle, so loving as he chuckles his way into your heart, making the urge to hide your tomato-red face even worse. “You’re so cute, really,” he says, placing a sweet peck on your nose, “If they don’t find me, you can be my queen.” You giggle and he looks thoroughly happy. “Queen of what? You can’t just make me ruler over something and not tell me what it is. Also, why are they even looking for you? Also, who is they? Also, you’re bold to assume they won’t check the bathroom.” Jungkook smirks, leaning closer, hands playing innocently with strands of your hair while his eyes follow your lips. The gaze is downwards since he’s taller than you even sitting down and you try not to get flustered by his intensity. “Right,” he says slowly, still admiring your lips, “You didn’t know. The boys and I were bored, so we decided to continue our hide-and-seek-championships. Since we’re keeping track and I won four games so far, a fifth victory will get me to break Yoongi-hyung’s record.” With a cocky grin, he adds, “And I’ll win for sure this time.” “Because you cheated this time.” “I didn’t!”, he protests, way too passionate to not give himself away. “I merely have a better game strategy than the others.” “Uh-oh, why does that sound suspicious, Jeon Jungkook?” He drags you into his lap. You know he loves it when you use his full name. Even if he tries to hide it, you always get a physical reaction out of him when you call him that. “Yah,” he grins, “it’s not suspicious. It’s called ‘thinking outside the box’ and I’m good at it. How else can you beat hyung at this game? He’s tiny. He can press himself into any space and then he falls asleep so he doesn’t even hear when we call for him.” “So your masterplan was…?” “I caused a power outage. Since they know you’re occupying the bathroom, they won’t go anywhere near it. They won’t assume I’m in here with you.” You both go silent when Jimin’s voice sing-songs in front of the door. “Noona?”, Jimin chirps. “Yes?” you answer. Jungkook looks tense, afraid that his masterplan might be ruined, and by you of all people, the ace in his sleeve. “Are you good in there? Do you have candles? We can't get the power back on...” “I’m great, Jimin, thank you. I probably need a couple more minutes in here, I hope that’s okay?” “Take your time, noona!” “Thank you. Jiminie?” “Yeah?” You decide to have some fun. You throw a look at Jungkook’s face when you say, “There’s something I need to tell you. It's about Jungkookie.” Jungkook is gripping your arms. His eyes are big, pleading. You grin and he shakes his head. “What is it?” Jungkook presses a kiss to your cheek. Please. I’ll do anything. Don’t rat me out. You wait a few seconds, searching his eyes. Should you- nah. “Is he on a diet right now?” Jungkook visibly relaxes, resting his head against the wall but sending you a glare that you return with a hand kiss à la Seokjin. “Um, I think so, why?” “Nevermind, I was just thinking about dinner. We could make something simple like pasta later, do you like that? I know a good sauce.” “That sounds great, noona. I'll help you later.” Jungkook lets out a sigh and his forehead hits your cheek. You smile at how caring Jimin is but when he disappears, but suddenly, a thought shoots through your mind. They won’t assume I’m in here with you. “Jeon Jungkook,” you say seriously, tapping him in the chest. He shivers. Big brown doe eyes tell you he did not expect that tone from you. “Is that the reason you told me yesterday that you wanted to keep our relationship a secret from the others? To win at hide and seek today? You didn't even know you'd play this today.” As soon as a mighty blush creeps up Jungkook’s neck and face, he’s trying his hardest to hide his face in your shoulder. You know you’re spot on. “Are you serious?” He writhes in your playful grip but knows he’s lost when you cup his face to make him look at you. With no other option in sight, he decides to put it all on the table and give you his puppy eyes. “Maybe?” He whispers cutely. “Sorry? I thought we’d tell them when we won?” “You made that up right now.” “Maybe?” He says again, grinning cheekily with that look that says, you know you can’t be mad at me. And he’s right, you can’t. You absolutely can’t because Jungkook is one cute cookie that makes your heart soft and your judgment biased.

“As his Majesty desires,” you say in a posh accent. “Just for how long does his kingship intend to remain in this vicinity?” “As long as it takes, my queen.”

hey, thanks for reading! feedback?

Masterlist

permanent taglist: @nataliarxmanxva, @aubzylynn, @inappropriatepirate, @buckysmusculararm, @coffeeismylife28, @sarahwroteathing, @engineeringgirlcve, @tequilavet, @221bshrlocked, @fanboyswhereare-you, @snakehairgirl

#bts fluff #bangtan #jungkook #jungkook x reader #cute #hopefully #bts #wordsturnintostories #jan2019

17 notes · View notes

itsmarianstories · 6 years ago

Text

All good things come in threes

[Taegiseok Oneshot]

Sequel to ‘Focus’ (it’s not necessary to read Focus first!)

Taehyung loves his best friend Jimin, but he doesn’t love that Jimin keeps dragging him to boxing matches. That may or may not change once he meets a certain boxing coach… The only problem: said boxing coach already has a boyfriend.

Moodboard

Part 2

Word count: 8.892

Tags: Polyamory, (mostly) Fluff, a bit of Angst, Food poisoning (just in case anyone is uncomfortable with that…), in this part is a scene where it gets a bis physical if you know what I mean, but it’s not really smut, there are some smut references tho

Okay, cut that. He regrets his decision. Holy. Fuck. He regrets his words so much. Why couldn't he just have choked on the spot and died instead of letting his traitor-tongue spill the words for his eternal agony.

It was Friday already and Taehyung had to be over at Jimins in an hour. Currently he was having a minor breakdown in front of his closet while he himself wasn't wearing anything beside the towel he had wrapped around his waist. It was so silly. He felt stupid about not being able to decide on what to wear. He wanted to be unbothered and confident and just wear whatever he felt like (which were baggy pants and a nice, fluffy hoodie) but whenever he reached out for the clothes images of Yoongi and Hoseok appeared in his mind and it made his tummy do stupid things. It was dumb and cliché but he wanted to look good. Dress to impress. He can do that easily, he knows in which clothes he looks the best, he is not studying fashion and design for nothing. But he also can't show up to a casual evening like he was ready for the catwalk. Finding the middle was harder than he thought it would be, but that may also be caused by his nerves and sudden self consciousness.

He would have kicked Jimins door down long ago if Jungkook wasn't already there. It's kind of suspicious if he drags Jimin out now to help him with his outfit so he had to deal with it on his own, but he is also running out of time and... god he really has no idea why he is making such a big deal out of it. He has never felt like this before, he has never struggled with picking an outfit. This is getting ridiculous.

Tae slapped his own cheeks a few times and took multiple deep breathes.

“Alright, Kim Taehyung, stop being a douche and get your shit done.” He mumbled before finally reaching out for his baggy pants and favourite hoodie. So what if he looks like a trash bin? They probably won’t even look at him in the first place. Okay, that thought hurt more than it should. Taehyung shook his head and ruffled through his still wet hair.

He knocked on Jimins door a little earlier than necessary. Junkook opened the door.

“Oh! It's you! Look at this, I wasn’t sure you are still alive.” He joked and Taehyung smacked his chest before pushing past him into the living room.

“Shut up.” Taehyung mumbled, trying not to sound embarrassed. “Where is Jimin?” He asked and Jungkook followed him in the living room, flopping down on the couch.

“Still in the bathroom I guess.”

“Jimin?” Taehyung called out, knocking on the wooden door.

“Taetae?” Jimin called back, voice muffled through the door. He heard rustling coming from the other side and then the door opened, revealing his best friend. Taehyung immediately pushed in with a groan and closed the door again.

“I'm going to die.” He whispered to prevent Jungkook from hearing anything.

“Sorry Tae. They made the plans without letting me know or I would have warned you. To be honest I was a little pissed seeing they made plans in my apartment without letting me know.” Jimin explained, shrugging slightly.

“It's okay, it's just for one evening.” Taehyung said, although they both knew that was bullshit since it probably won’t stay at this one evening. It's not like Taehyung can make up excuses forever.

“How are you feeling?” Jimin asked, making a little jump to sit on the counter next to the sink. Taehyung snorted again and flopped down on the closed toilet seat.

“It took me like almost an hour to get dressed and now I’m wearing this.” He said and Jimin raised his eyebrows surprised, because he knows that fashion is usually a thing Taehyung doesn't have to think about.

“If it becomes too much tonight, tell me okay? We'll just say you don't feel well or something.” The dancer said, his legs swinging in he air for they are too short to reach the ground.

“I'll be alright. It's not like I’m madly in love or anything.” At least he hoped so. Jimin didn't seem to believe him but he also didn't call him out on it. Instead he jumped of the counter and pulled Tae up and into a tight hug.

“You are amazing Taetae. I'm sure it will all turn out alright.” Jimin whispered again his chest.

“You sap.” Taehyung said but his smile dropped and he added more seriously “I just hope no one will notice.”

“Don't worry, Jungkookie, at least, is oblivious to anything that is not concerning food.”

Soon after that they left the bathroom and found the living room already full. Jungkook has moved into the loveseat next to the couch, Yoongi Hoseok and another man that Taehyung doesn't know (though he looked strangely familiar) next to them on the couch. Jimin jumped happily in Jungkooks lap and made himself comfortable while Taehyung took place on the armchair in front of the couch. He pulled the knees against his chest and stared at his hands, not daring to look at the couple. For a few seconds it was tensely silent until Jimin started speaking.

“Right so just to the beginning, I'd very much appreciate it if you guys could stop planning things in my apartment without letting me know.” He scolded. Jungkook wrapped his arms around the dancers middle and rested his head on his shoulder, a small pout on his lips.

“Sorry, baby.” He whispered but Jimin only shoved his elbow in his boyfriends side. Jimin may be all cute and soft but when he's angry he can become really scary real quick. Yoongi chuckled a little at the other couple.

“I'm sorry, Jimin. It was our idea and we thought it would be most convenient to do it here because our flat is pretty far away and Jungkooks is so small.” The coach said.

“Whatever.” Jimin mumbled.

“Anyways, this is Namjoon. An old college friend from us and now another box teacher.” Yoongi changed the topic and pointed at the guy next to him on the couch. Taehyung finally looked up and found both, Yoongi and Hoseok staring at him. He gulped and forced his eyes off them and instead looked at Namjoon. He was tall with rather short hair and plumb lips. He waved slightly a soft smile on his lips.

“Namjoonie is one of the few people who can take Yoongi down.” Jungkook giggled.

“Yah! You brat.” Yoongi complained though he didn't really look offended. All that Taehyung could focus on was Yoongis hand lazily massaging Hoseoks thigh.

“Well, to be fair, you are slacking off. In the old days when you were still actively boxing I wouldn't have stood a chance against you.” Namjoon spoke up for the first time. Yoongi shook his head a little but there was a fond smile tucking at the corners of his mouth.

“Enough of that.” Hoseok said. “Namjoon you already know Jimin right?”

“Hardly so, we saw each other for a few seconds when he picked Jungkook up after practice.” Hoseok rolled his eyes and flipped him of with his hand.

“Yeah, so you have already been introduced just say that. This is Taehyung, Jimins best friend.” Hoseok pointed in his direction and Taehyung forced a smile that probably looked rather ridiculous. He waved slightly at Namjoon who gave him a full on dimple smile in return.

“Oh are you a dancer too?” He asked and Taehyung ignored Jimins quiet snort. His dancing is amazing okay? Excuse him.

“No, I'm taking classes for fashion and design.” He explained.

“Ah so you like, design clothes?” Namjoon asked and Taehyung nodded.

“And he is super talented!” Hoseok exclaimed brightly. Taehyung stared at him a little confused and when Hoseok returned his gaze something changed in his eyes but Taehyung couldn't quite put a name on it.

“Yoongi told me about your drawings.” He said and Taehyungs lungs felt like they were imploding. His eyes widened almost comically as they jumped between Yoongi and Hoseok.

“Oh did he show you his drafts? They are so good right? I already made him promise me, once he is a famous designer I want free clothes.” Jimin chirped up. Yoongi ripped his eyes from the intense staring to look at Jimin.

“He didn't really show me. It was more of an accident, but I agree.” He turned back to look at Taehyung. “They are really good. I liked the details.” The former boxer added and Taehyung thought he would throw up any second.

“Ah, okay.” Jimin said, sensing that something was going on here. “Taetae.” He called and snapped Taehyung out of his trance.

“Come, help me get some snacks, will you?” Jimin smiled and Taehyung nodded stronger than necessary, already jumping out of the seat and basically fleeing into the kitchen.

“What was that all about? Are you okay?” Jimin whispered once they were out of the otheres possible eavesdrop radius. Taehyung sighed and rubbed a hand over his face.

“I kinda doodled Yoongi as model for a few designs and he saw it. I wasn't sure if he recognized himself but apparently...” Jimin hummed as he went through his shelves to gather a few snacks as well as drinks and glasses.

“Tae I think you really should reconsider your choice of hiding what you feel for them.” He suddenly said and Taehyung gaped at him.

“What?” He whisper-hissed. “Are you kidding? I-"

“Tae, did you not see how they just stared at you? Either you doodled Mona Lisa or they like you more than you think.” Taehyung scoffed.

“Don't be ridiculous.” Tae mumbled because he couldn’t allow himself to believe it. He just couldn't. He couldn't hope.

“Tae-" Jimin started again but Taehyung cut him of.

“No Jimin, please just drop it.” He said, grabbed the snacks and left without another word. He heard Jimins sigh but decided to ignore it. When he returned to the group he found that quite the awkward tension has suddenly clouded the air and all eyes landed on him. He wondered if something happened while he and Jimin were in the kitchen or if it was just so obvious how uncomfortable he was earlier. He cleared his throat and put the snacks down on the small coffee table in the middle, feigning cluelessness.

Jimin followed him seconds after and flopped down in Jungkooks lap again. Taehyung eyed the couple with something he would later recognize as longing. Not in a creepy kind of way but a 'I want what you have' kind of way and he felt awful for it.

Anyways they actually started playing games soon after. Starting of with monopoly but Jungkook soon flipped the board from the table when he had to pay rent to Yoongi for the fifth time. So they moved on to Uno and this time Jungkook won with a happy grin and frequent reminders what losers the others were. Hoseok became second and Taehyung thought the little dance the older did when he put down the last card was the most adorable thing he has ever seen.

The evening goes on and everything actually goes smooth to the point where Taehyung is actually surprised and enjoying himself. He pretends he doesn’t steal quick glances at the couple every once in a while and that his heart doesn't squeeze whenever the couple is sharing a moment.

They play a quantum of games and eventually Jungkook suggest to play charade. Jimin, Hoseok and Namjoon immediately agree. Yoongi seems rather displeased but he goes along with it anyway.

“We need to make teams.” Jungkook said. Jimin frowned a little.

“Let's just split up. Taehyungie can be in our team and Namjoonie in Hoseokie and Yoongis team.” The dancer said and Taehyung knew why he said that.

“That's boring we should draw lots and let fate decide.” Hoseok protested and as the stubborn energy-bundle that he is, of course he gets his way. So they draw lot’s and of course Taehyung ends up in a Team with Yoongi and Hoseok because fate hates him. Or the author who is writing a very shitty fanfiction that is his live is very sadistic, whatever. He just smiles and pretends to be fine and so they start brainstorming for words. Hoseok giggles at the words he is writing down and Yoongi just grins evilly and suddenly Taehyung is glad to be in their team.

He forgot about his stupid crush for a while and just enjoyed goofing around with his friends. It was loud and chaotic, but it was exactly what Taehyung needed after those last weeks. At some point it was Yoongis turn to portray a word. Taehyung and Hoseok both screamed words that didn't even match, hyping each other up even more. When Taehyung actually guessed correctly Yoongi threw both arms in the air and let out a rather high pitched scream, or more so the mix of a squeal and a laugh. Is eyes disappearing as bunch up in his bright gummy smile. Hoseok started screaming too because this was the last word and made them win the game. The couple pulled him in a group hug and it felt so natural that Taehyung held his breath for a moment.

And suddenly he was back on earth, his heartbeat picked up, his breathing became more of a silent panting, his hands started sweating again.

Really he can't say why it suddenly hit him like that. It was just a hug goddamn. But somehow that seemed to make something click in his mind and everything became too much. To be honest he doesn’t really remember leaving but suddenly his knees hit cold tiles and when he looked up he found himself in the bathroom.

He could hear voices from outside the door.

“I don't think that is a good idea.” “You have to trust me on this. Please, just let me talk to him.”

Taehyung froze. Not good. He can't handle talking to anyone right now.

Two soft knocks on the door and a single sob escaped Taehyungs throat. He didn't even realize he started crying.

“Tae.” Yoongi said and Taehyung bit in the back of his hand. “Please let me in.”

It's not even locked but Yoongi didn't try to open the door without Taehyungs consent.

“I... I'll be back soon.” He choked out but it didn't sound believable at all.

“Taehyung please.” Yoongi tried again and maybe Taehyung is a little masochist, or maybe he is tired from hiding and running away but instead of sending the older away he just whispers

“It's open anyway.” At first he hoped that Yoongi didn't hear it. Of course he did and the door opened few seconds later. Taehyung was still kneeling on the ground, his back to the door so he didn't see Yoongi before he felt him.

Big, warm hands brushing lightly over his back. He tensed a bit but his body reflexively pressed against the hand, searching for the contact.

“I'm sorry, if we overstepped.” The boxer mumbled, his voice almost more of a growl. Tae only shook his head.

“This... it's not like... it's not your fault.” Yoongis hands slowly wandered up his back and to his shoulder, turning him around and Taehyung looked at him for a second but the concern in the olders eyes made his heart clench so he lowered his eyes again.

“Please talk to me. Tell me what's wrong.” Yoongi said but Taehyung only shook his head again. He could never say it. Even if he wanted to, the words would stuck in his throat.

Yoongi scooped a bit closer, cupping Taehyungs face and forcing him to look up.

“What are you scared of?”Yoongi asked. Tae felt his bottom lip wobble as new tears found their way into his eyes.

“I... I can't-" He saw Yoongi frown before he pulled the younger into his embrace and Taehyung hated how much he loved it. How much he loved the warmth and Yoongis scent. And how safe he felt. It made him so weak and he melted against Yoongis chest.

“You can tell me, Tae. I'm not blind I noticed how you behaved the last few weeks. How you avoided us.” Taehyung immediately froze. Was he really that obvious? Were his efforts all for nothing after all?

“It's okay you can talk to me.” Yoongi repeated. Taehyung fisted his hands in Yoongis sweater and hid his face in the olders neck. He didn't know what to do. Should he really just confess? Make up a lie? Change the subject?

Eventually he pulled away and finally met Yoongis eyes.

“I'm sorry.” He mumbled. “For avoiding you and being weird and a mess. It's not you I swear. I'm sorry if I made you worry, to be honest I didn't think you would notice.” He admitted and after a short moment of considering and another moment of 'fuck-it' he added “I didn't think you would care. I figured-"

Taehyung experienced a lot surprises in his life, good ones as well as bad ones. Like the surprise party for his 16th birthday that Jimin has organized together with some friends. Or that one phone call from his mother telling him his grandmother had passed away. Usually a surprise was either good, or bad. And Taehyung usually loved good surprises. He wasn't so sure about this one.

His eyes are wide open, his body frozen in shock as all he can think is “WHATTHEFUCKWHATTHEFUCKEDYFUCKFUCKOMGFUCK"

Yoongis hands are still cupping his face and Taehyung can still smell his scent and feel his warmth. He can feel the others hair softly tickling his skin. He can feel his own heart beat at the speed of light. Maybe it's his imagination but he thinks he can also hear, or feel, Yoongis heart but ever so slightly slower than his own. However, all this is kind of a blur as the thing his mind his most focused on is the feeling of warm lips on his. Yes, I said lips. Min fucking Yoongi is kissing him. In the middle of his best friends bathroom, while snot and tears are covering his face and while his boyfriend is sitting just a few feet away in the living room.

To be really honest Taehyung had dreamed about this. Imagined how it would feel to kiss them. Nothing came near what he felt right now, though.

In total the kiss probably only lasted a few seconds, lips lightly pressed together and parting again. For Taehyung it felt like eternity until Yoongi pulled back again and stared him deeply in the eye. It felt like Taehyungs soul would freeze in place.

“Stop apologizing.” Yoongi said and it ripped Taehyung out of his trance.

“What the fuck?!” He hissed and jumped up, staring down at Yoongi in confusion, fury, fear, pain. Basically, a mess.

“Taehyung I-"

“Why would you do this?” Taehyung demanded further. Suddenly he felt very, very weak.

“Why would you do this to Hoseok? Why would you do this to me? I was happy with how it was. I mean not really but I could live with it. You just ruined everything! Oh my god, you made me a cheater! Your boyfriend is literally behind this wall? How can you do this? You have to tell him! You know what, I'll tell him. He deserves to know!” Taehyung rambled and made his way past Yoongi. He wanted to leave but he froze with his hand hovering over the door knob.

“He will hate me.” Taehyung whispered in sudden realisation. “Oh my god, he will actually hate me!” He whipped around staring at Yoongi who stood up again as well and didn't look fazed at all. It made Taehyung even more furious.

“This is your fault! He will hate me and then he will leave you and you will hate me too. Oh god and Jimin will be so disappointed.” He started pushing Yoongis chest. “I will end up alone because you couldn't fucking control yourself, what is wrong with you! Why would you even do this in the first place I-" Yoongi got hold of his hands and held him tightly in place. If Taehyung wasn't so distracted by his anger he would have been in wonder over how much strength Yoongi has in his tiny body.

“Taehyung.” The older said, his voice somewhat stern. “Are you done?” Taehyung frowned.

“Done? What do you mean done? I'm-" He tried to shake Yoongi off but the older was way stronger than him.

“Hoseok knows, okay? He knows and he is fine with it. No one will leave me, nor you, okay?” Yoongi said, his eyes digging into Taehyungs soul.

“What?” Taehyung asked softly, like a whisper.

“He knows.” Yoongi repeated. “Babe, can you come here for a second!” Yoongi yelled over Taehyungs shoulder and hardly 20 seconds later Hoseok stuck his head into the bathroom. Taehyung stared at him with wide eyes, Yoongi still holding his wrists tightly.

“Everything okay?” Hoseok asked, looking concerned as he noticed Taehyung standing there like he has seen a ghost.

“I kissed him.” Yoongi said, as if it was the most casual thing in the world. Taehyungs head whipped back to him, and back again to Hoseok staring at them both in shock because honestly what the fuck is happening? Hoseok opened his mouth, closed it again and eventually entered the bathroom completely.

“Is that why he looks like someone just told him santa is not real?” He asked and sat down on the edge of the bathtub. Yoongi nodded.

“He thought I cheated on you. With him.” Hoseok snorted. Actually snorted.

“That's cute. As if you'd ever dare to do that.” He said with oh so dark eyes. Yoongi winked at him and Taehyung felt sick. This was all too much for him to handle.

Yoongi lead him over to the toilet and placed him on the closed lid before sitting down next to Hoseok and taking his hand, pulling it in his lap.

“I... I don’t understand.” Taehyung choked out, his eyes jumping between the two men. They both smiled and Taehyung felt weird.

“Have you never wondered why we showed up at the cafe so often? Your Americano is not that good.” Yoongi said and Hoseok smacked him on the arm.

“Aish, shut up you idiot.” Yoongi pouted.

“Let me explain, I have always been rather open as you may have noticed.” Hoseok started. “And I have also been rather open with my relationships. I noticed already in my teenage years that I don't always fall for only one person. I was in polyamory relationships before but they didn't work out and then I met Yoongi and it was enough.” Tae gulped. Was it suddenly hot in here? Yoongi tilted his head to the side and closed his eyes, just listening to what Hoseok is saying. The latter had a fond smile on his face throughout his whole speech.

“When I first met him, I told him that I might fall for someone else in the future and he was okay with it. We agreed that whenever it happens we would be honest with each other and find a way. I don't think either of us expected Yoongi to be the one to fall for someone else.” Taehyungs eyes widened as he watched a blush creep on the oldest cheeks.

“When Yoongi came home that one day telling me that he met someone, I felt so many things. I was kind of shocked to be honest, and nervous and maybe a little scared when he said he wanted me to meet them. But I was also excited because I saw that sparkle in his eyes, the same sparkle he had on our first date so I realized how serious he was.” Yoongi chuckled embarrassed and let out a single scream that made Taehyung jump.

“When Yoongi brought me to your cafe, I was literally so nervous and then I met you and,” Hoseok sighed, still smiling “ it just fit? Okay, at first I was worried because I thought you were only interested in Yoongi but Yoongi said I’m just being dumb. And when we continued to come by more often and actually get to know you, I was so excited. You just kind of completed us in a way that I didn't know I needed.” Hoseok started frowning.

“But then you started avoiding us and I thought you noticed how we felt and it made you uncomfortable. Then Yoongi told me about those drawings you did of him way back and I thought about everything a lot and I remember how I felt when I first had a crush on multiple people and how scared and confused I was. I talked with Yoongi about everything for hours probably,” they both chuckled “and we decided to give it a try. You were already avoiding us so we didn't really have much to lose, so we came up with this evening. To this evening I'm still not sure if I'm right, or just hopefully assuming. Yeah, I just thought I'd be honest.” Hoseok looked actually nervous now. Yoongi let go of his hand and instead brought it up to his hair, gently trailing his fingers through the dark strands.

“You were amazing, baby.” He said and Hoseok snorted again, before they both turned to look at Taehyung who sat frozen on the toilet seat. Damn, this was so much for his two braincells to process. There are literally two hot guys sitting in front of him telling him they have a crush on him? Is this the real life?

“I,” he started but suddenly felt something drop in his stomach

“I really appreciate every thing you said just now and would love to continue this further but first, and really please don't take this personal-" He rambled as quickly as possible before jumping up, only to turn and drop to his knees for a nice reappearance from his lunch. God must really hate him.

“Oh my god, Tae!” Hoseok screeched. Yoongi was by his side within less than a second, brushing his bangs back and rubbing soothing circles on his back while Tae puked out his soul. Taehyung missed what Hoseok did, too busy focusing on not choking on his vomit.

“I-I'm sorry" He managed to slur out between his heaving . His mouth felt kinda numb but unfortunately it didn't block out the taste.

“Shh, don't apologize, love.” Yoongi murmured and Tae really wanted to appreciate the pet name but already gagged again. The small room was suddenly filled with multiple voices, Tae recognized Hoseok, Jimin and probably also Jungkook and Namjoon. Wow, this is just great.

Jimin flopped down on his other side, rubbing his shoulder. Yoongi flushed the toilet after Taehyung was done and Hoseok handed him a glass of water, which he accepted thankfully.

“What happened?” Jimin asked worried and pressed a cold, wet towel against his forehead. The dancer looked between the three of them but neither said a word. All eyes settled on Tae eventually.

“I uhm,” He coughed a little “I may or may not have eaten a salmon sandwich that I found in my fridge from like uh... two weeks ago.” He admitted sheepishly the whole room groaned.

“Tae, why are you like this?” Jimin whined and Taehyung wanted to make a joke but was rudely interrupted by another vomiting attack.

“You can stay here for the next few days, until you feel better. I don’t want you to be alone like this, you might smother on your own vomit in your sleep.” Jimin said. His only response was another aggressive heave though. At least until Taehyung was able to breath again.

“No, Jiminie you have practice and stuff. It's okay, I'll sleep on my side. You know, stable side position and all.” He protested.

“No, Tae really I-"

“He can come to us.” Yoongi suddenly said.

“How is that any better? Instead of bothering my best friend I'll bother the guys I-" He stopped midsentence when he realized what he was about to say. Damn this food poisoning must have an impact on his brain capacity.

“The guys you what?” Hoseok asked with a smirk and a brow raised.

“Nothing.” Tae quickly mumbled and blushed, gnawing on his bottom lip.

“Stop, both of you. We can come back to that once Taehyung feels better. Hoseok and I have kinda like, opposite schedules so one of us is basically always at home. We can take care of you.” Yoongi said and wouldn’t Taehyung feel so miserable right now, he would have thought it was hot.

“Okay" Jimin said “I guess that works. I'll come visit you, Taetae.”

“What? Don't I get a say in this?” He protested and it was almost funny like all three men said “No" at the same time. He huffed offended.

“You might be delirious, we can't relay on your opinion.” Hoseok grinned.

“I call that bullshit.” Tae pouted.

“ I don't know, that's probably just your sickness talking.” The older mused and Tae made an effort to punch him but Hoseok was standing too far away from where Tae was cowering on the ground and he was honestly too weak right now.

“Let him be, hope. I think he already suffered enough today.” Yoongi said, pulling Taehyung up from the ground. The younger whined in a silent 'yes'.

“Yeah well, I suffered the last few weeks.” Hoseok mumbled but rushed to Taehyungs other side to help Yoongi drag him out of the bathroom. Jimin rushed past them, heading to the kitchen only to return with a few plastic bags.

“Here, you know, for the car.” Taehyung grimaced and the thought almost made him vomit again. They said goodbye to Jungkook and Namjoon who were waiting in the living room and soon after he found himself in the back of Yoongis car, his head resting in Hoseoks lap as the older brushed his fingers through his hair. Man, this would be so nice if Taehyung wouldn't feel like dying right now.

“How are you feeling back there?” Yoongi asked with a glance in the rear view mirror, as if he just read his mind.

“Ugh" Taehyung groaned.

“We'll be there soon, it's not far.” Hoseok assured.

True to his words they arrived barely 15 minutes later and Taehyung realized that their excuse why they have planned this evening at Jimins apartment, was a blatant lie.

They helped him up the stairs into the second floor and Taehyung tiredly dropped on the coach as soon as it was in sight. He looked around in awe, taking in every little detail, from the poorly decorated window panes to the many photos on the walls and the kumamon pillows next to him. He loved everything about it. Especially how he was suddenly surrounded by their scent.

“Alright, we- Tae what are you doing, you can sleep in the bed.” Yoongi said. Taehyung frowned.

“Now, I don't want to-"

“You are literally sick did you think we would let you sleep on the couch?” Hoseok scolded and Taehyung was picked up again, manhandled really, and basically carried to the bedroom. The bed was huge. There was probably room for four people.

“Alright, we only have one bed, so you'll have to share with one of us. Actually I can sleep on the couch.” Yoongi said and Tae felt already bad.

“No baby, your back will hurt in the morning, it's fine I'll take the couch.” Hoseok contradicted.

“Can't we just all sleep in the bed? I don't want any of you to sleep on the couch.” Tae asked, already sitting cross-legged on the mattress.

“That would be quite cramped.” Yoongi frowned.

“What? Are you blind? Do you not see how huge this is?” He said and patted the bed.

“Fine.” Yoongi eventually said. They helped Taehyung get ready, things like brushing his teeth. He was a bit embarrassed but they took care of him so gently it made him feel all warm and fuzzy. Eventually he laid carefully tucked in, in bed and watched the other men get ready and it made something start bubbling in his stomach, but in a good way. Not the way that made him puke earlier.

Oh no, why did he think of that now. He hurriedly fought against the blanket to get up but his limps got tangled in the sheets and he initially winced about ruining the beautiful bed. At least he thought he would. Just in time Hoseok flopped down in front of him and handed him a bucket. It wasn't really much that came out, Taehyungs stomach probably almost empty by now. It's still nothing you want in your bed though. The forced heaving, the bitter-sour taste, the guilt and maybe exhaustion from today and the last weeks brought tears to his eyes. Hoseok went to empty the bucket and Taehyung felt so bad about it. He wouldn't even want to do it with his own vomit, even more so someone elses.

“I'm sorry.” He slurred, tongue still kind of numb. Yoongi took Hoseoks place and Taehyung saw how he already wanted to protest again so he quickly continued.

“For being gross and noisy, b-but mostly for avoiding you and making you feel bad.” He nervously rubbed the sleeve of his hoodie over his sweaty forehead but Yoongi took his hand away and kissed it instead.

“Go to bed love, you need rest.” The older said and gently brushed his cheek. Taehyung unconsciously leaned into the touch and closed his eyes with a quiet hum, or rather sigh. Finally he laid back down and moments later Yoongi followed, crawling in next to him. Hoseok came back with the bucket and placed it next to the bed, just in case, before joining the two men on the mattress.

The first few moments it was still a little awkward but then Taehyung decided to just say fuck it and make the best out of this moment. He could always just blame it on the sickness afterwards.

He snuggled up with his back pressed against Yoongi and pulled Hoseok closer. The first moments were a little awkward but when the two men got over the shock -or surprise really- they kind of melted together into a big puddle of human. It was amazing how they could make their bodies fit together so well, like puzzle pieces that match each other although they are from different puzzles.

Taehyung relished in the warmth and safety the others provided and it calmed his aching body. He smiled happily when Hoseok pressed a kiss onto his head and whispered a quiet “Goodnight Taetae”

Taehyung spend the next week at their flat and at first he still felt bad and protested when ever they did something for him. However, he quickly realized that you can't ever win against Hoseok and you really, really don't want to piss Yoongi off so he just relented and allowed them to spoil him. Once he stopped puking out everything that reached his stomach (which was after about four days jesus christ) they cooked him food and brought it to the bed or couch, where ever he was currently resting. They helped him change and shower (that was a really hard discussion with Taehyung claiming to be fine by himself only to actually slip in the bathroom and having the two men scold him the full ten minutes while helping him afterwards) and cleaned up after him. Hell, Yoongi even picked up some notes a classmate wrote for him over the classes he missed.

With every day Taehyung felt himself falling a little deeper and at the fourth day he was sure this was not just a stupid crush anymore. He had enough time to think about everything Hoseok said in Jimins bathroom and while he still wondered how the fuck they could actually like him back, he also wasn't stupid okay. Now that he knew (and had a lot of free time) he started to notice small things, like the lingering touches, the fond stares, besides from the obvious. Yoongi almost ever only called him by some pet name and Hoseok hugged or cuddled him whenever he got the chance to. Besides, who would go out all of their way to care for a sick person when they don't even know them that long?

The exciting and giddy feeling from the beginning, the 'oh my gosh they like me back what the fuckedy' has changed to a current state of warmth that was lazily pooling in his stomach, more of a 'wow look at these beautiful men, yep I scored them'. And yes, he does realize that he hasn't really scored them yet, but he was determined to change that, now that he didn't feel like puking on their feet every ten minutes anymore. He actually prepared a speech, wanting to be ready so that everything goes smoothly and he waited for them both to be home. Hoseok usually worked in the early morning and came home around afternoon while Yoongi started around late noon and came back in the evening.

Taehyung was sitting on the couch, cross-legged, a pillow in his lap and watching some drama on Netflix while Hoseok was preparing dinner. The kitchen and the living room were one big opening so Taehyung was able to watch Hoseok work and damn if that wasn't one of the hottest things he has ever seen. So yeah, he didn't really focus on the drama, like at all. He also was kinda nervous and tried really hard not to let it show. Taehyung was glad as well as scared when Yoongi entered with a groan.

“Hey babe, hard day?” Hoseok asked. Yoongi came over and greeted him with a kiss. It was sickeningly domestic and Taehyung loved everything about it.

“Mhmm, it's getting better.” Yoongi mumbled against his boyfriends lips. Taehyung didn't understand why he suddenly blushed.

“Go get changed, dinner is ready and your clothes smell of sweat.” Hoseok said, petting Yoongis chest.

“Aye, aye, sir.” The boxer replied and made his way over to the bedroom but not before coming over to him and leaving a gentle kiss on Taehyungs hair. The younger couldn't help but beam. Yoongi probably didn't see it, but Hoseok did and returned it with a fond expression. It motivated Taehyung even more to have That Talk and he decided to approach it after dinner.

“So, I'm not puking anymore.” Wow, Tae-dumbass-hyung, great start.

“Mhm, we noticed.” Hoseok mused, amused.

“It's just, I can probably return home soon and...” Damn where did his speech go? Why was this suddenly so hard?

“And...?” Yoongi asked.

“Well... I wanted to thank you guys. You really did so much for me, I don't know how to make it up to you.” He started to pick on the hem of his (Yoongis) sweater.

“You know we don't want you to do that anyway.” Hoseok scolded.

“Y-Yeah. On that note... I thought a lot about what you said, you know in the bathroom before I.... yes anyways. To say I was surprised would be the biggest understatement, I really...” He sighed frustrated, this is not how he wanted to do this. He took a deep breath and faced Yoongi.

“You know that night, where Jungkook fought that dude who harassed Jimin? And you were so angry at him for fighting like that, I was really amazed then. I always hated violence and everything having to do with it so I kind of just put you in that box as well. I judged you without even knowing you and you just went and threw those prejudices away just like that. It really impressed me but I didn’t allow myself to dwell on it too much because I knew you had a boyfriend. But then I got to know both of you and I really don't know when it happened but at some point I realized that... that my feelings were becoming a little more than what they should. And I kind of panicked because I was so sure you would be disgusted if you were to ever find out so I tried to minimize the contact. I didn't ever think there could be a possibility of you liking me back.” The two men stared at him with something close to awe and Taehyung really wanted to hug them.

“A-And I don't know how we should proceed from here, I have never been in this situation before, so I don't really know what to do. I just know that I really, really like you, both of you.” He mumbled those last words, suddenly feeling a lot more shy again. It was so relieving to let it out, to finally admit it. It felt like he had spent too much time underwater and was now finally able to breath again.

“Well, I've been in poly relationships before but everyone is different and needs different dynamics according to everyone’s comfort zone, so this is new to all of us.” Hoseok said, completely casually, like this was just some everyday conversation.

“R-Relationship?” Taehyung gasped. Technically this was the logical next step after they had confessed to each other, but it still felt kind of surreal to him.

“If that's what everyone wants of course.” Yoongi spoke up. He was a little more itchy and it was honestly adorable. Taehyung pulled his knees to his chest and rested his head on it.

“I don't know.” Taehyung whispered. “I mean I want to but... I’m scared.” Hoseok and Yoongi moved to sit on his left and right.

“It's okay to be scared.” Hoseok said and ran his fingers through Taehyungs hair, pushing his bangs out of his eyes.

“Can we take things slow?” He mumbled, suddenly feeling very young compared to the other man.

“Of course. We don't have to label anything, we can just spend some time together and see how it goes, okay?” Yoongi assured, his hand caressing Taehyungs thigh carefully. The youngest gulped and nodded.

“And uhm... can we not tell anyone just yet?” He asked. “It's not like I’m ashamed or anything just-“ Hoseok chuckled.

“You don't have to be so nervous, baby. It's okay, we understand. Again, this is new for us too.” Taehyung nodded. He felt a little shaken up, he didn't know why.

Yoongi then stood up from his chair and pecked Taehyungs forehead.

“Alright, let's clean up, then we can watch a movie or something.” He said. Hoseok stood up as well and moved to help Yoongi but Taehyung grabbed his hand. The older turned around a little surprised.

“Uhm... I already k-kissed Yoongi and I think it would only be fair if I...” Taehyung blushed. Hoseok chuckled.

“You want to kiss me?” He asked as if it wasn't clear. Taehyung turned his head away.

“You have to answer me, or I won’t know what you want.” He grinned and Taehyung let out a frustrated scoff.

“Yes, okay? I want to kiss you, happy now?” He pouted and Hoseok smirked.

“Very happy.” He said, while leaning down and pressing his lips against Taehyungs. The kiss was over in less than a second and when Hoseok pulled back Taehyung chased his mouth but the older shook his head amused.

“This will have to do for now. Go clean up.” Taehyung pouted again but did as asked anyway.

It was a couple of minutes and a bit of dish washing being done later that they found themselves on the couch together. Tae sat in the middle his legs draped over Yoongis lap who was lazily caressing his thigh. Hoseok had an arm around Taehyungs shoulders and used it to brush his fingers through his hair. The youngests head was resting on Hoseoks shoulder. He had no idea what movie they where watching but he enjoyed it no less. He still couldn’t believe this was actually happening.

The next following weeks they kept hanging out like that. Going out for dinner together, to the cinema, to the mall. Tae even agreed to go to box fights together or they just stayed at home. And it was great and fun and all but...

Hoseok and Yoongi obviously were a little closer and while they tried to include Tae as best as possible but at the same time he felt them holding a certain distance. It was like he was a third wheel all this time.

“We need to talk!” He blurted out while they all sat together around the TV once again. Hoseok and Yoongi froze and exchanged a glance.

“What is it?” Hoseok asked carefully. Both man straightening up on the couch. Tae bit his lip and stared at his fingers, a bit scared of their answer to his question.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” He said, quick like removing a band aid.

“What?” Yoongi and Hoseok asked in unison.

“I mean I’d totally understand. You two had a perfect relationship way before I came and I just like, squeezed in. You can just tell me if that’s the case. I mean" he chuckled coldly “I guess it would kinda hurt, but I’d really understand. It was fun but I guess it just doesn’t really fit-" His sentence was cut off when Yoongi turned his face and kissed him with such force that Tae gasped in his mouth. Yoongi used that opportunity to slide his tongue in Taehyungs mouth. It felt desperate and needy and it was everything that Tae needed in that moment. His hands covered Yoongis that cupped his face, holding them in place.

“Don't say stupid things like that!” Yoongi whispered against his lips, giving him a last peck before pulling back.

“We wanted to give you time, to get used to everything. We didn't know we were making you feel like that.” Yoongi explained.

“But we want you.” Hoseok added, his voice rough as he turned Tae to look at him. “We definitely want you.”

And then he crashed their lips together too. And wow. It was the first time they kissed since that almost nonexistencial peck all these weeks back and maybe Tae was greedy but really who cares. He wrapped his arms around Hoseoks neck pulled him impossibly close while leaning back on the couch, causing Hoseok to basically lay on top of him. In the process he reached out to his side, searching for the other one of his beautiful men. Yoongi got the hint and took Taes hand interlacing their fingers.

“Can-" He gulped “Can we go to the bedroom?” Tae asked shyly.

“Are you sure?” Hoseok asked and chuckled at Taehyungs furious nodding.

Yoongi stood up first and helped Tae up, Hoseok following them quickly. Maybe it was a bit soon but so what. Some people fuck at the first date.

The youngest went straight for the bed watching as the other two looked at him slightly amused, slightly endeared. Yoongi crawled over to him, sitting down next to him and watching Hoseok. The latter smirked and took off his shirt before joining them. Tae couldn't take his eyes off him, he was so stunning. His hand went straight to Hoseoks chest, feeling the muscles twitch under his touch, the smoothness of his skin, his warmth.

He gulped again, looking up to see both Yoongi and Hoseok grinning back at him. Hoseok leaned down to kiss him again with so much passion that Tae moaned against his lips. He felt Yoongis hand starting to fiddle with his shirt and shoving the hem up to the point where Taehyung pulled back to take it off completely.

He then turned to Yoongi, motioning him to take his shirt off as well, leaving them all bare chested. Impatiently Tae pulled both of them down, wanting to feel their skin against his. Yoongi dived right in, pressing his face against the youngest neck and nibbling at the skin there.

“You have no idea for how long I wanted this.” Hoseok murmured.

'Same' Tae thought as he took his hand and interlaced their fingers. He was in complete bliss of finally having the weight of his insecurities gone.

The night flew past them, with their bodies dancing together none of them paid attention to things like time. Dawn had already started once they flopped on the bed together, laying pressed together in one small pile of human. Taehyung was absolutely exhausted and he was pretty sure neither him nor Yoongi would walk much the following days but he didn’t regret it one bit. He sighed happily, hearing even breathing to his left and soft snoring to his right. In this very moment he was so sure that this is his place, this is where he belongs, where he is supposed to be.

Luckily it was Friday, or more like Saturday by now so they could stay in bed and laze around all weekend. Yoongi was the first to wake up, probably some when around noon. He pressed a kiss to Taes shoulder and Hoseoks arm (since it was the only thing he could reach) and crawled out of bed with a groan on his lips every time his hip ached. Tae woke up only moment later. He blinked sleepily and scratched his head, looking around. Once he saw that Yoongi was gone he decided to get up as well. He carefully tried to peel Hoseok from around him and pulled up a fresh pair of shorts (stolen from Hoseok). He rubbed at his lower back with a grimace on his face when he felt the stiffness of his body. Yoongi chuckled once he saw him waddling into the kitchen. It smelled heavenly of coffee.

“Morning sleepyhead.” The older laughed. Taes hair was sticking up in every direction.

“Morning.” He mumbled back.

“How do you feel?” Yoongi asked and Tae made a grimace again.

“I’m okay, what about you?” He asked back, carefully sliding on a chair, watching Yoongi making breakfast. Yoongi smiled at him.

“I’m used to it. Hope is... well he has a lot of stamina, you know.” Yoongi said and Tae snorted.

“Yeah, I noticed. I came like three times while he just kept going.”

“I know, I was there too.”Yoongi chuckled and looked at something behind Tae. A grin spread on his face. Tae turned around to see Hoseok stumbling into the room, scratching on his bare chest, eyes barely open. He walked over to Tae and slung his arms over his shoulders from behind and buried his face in his neck. Tae giggled as Hoseok started to nibble at his neck.

“How are my two lovely boyfriends?” Hoseok murmured against Taes skin. Technically they never officially agreed to be boyfriends but no one said anything against it.

“We are fine, hope.” Yoongi laughed and handed both of the a cup of coffee.

“I’m sorry for last night, I got a bit carried away.” Hoseok mumbled and started to massage Taes lower back. Yoongi walked around the kitchen isle and joined the pair. Tae pulled him onto his lap and Hoseok slung his free arm around his middle.

“We are gonna make this work, right?” Tae asked quietly and snuggled closer to Yoongi. The older hummed lowly.

“I think we will. We just have to promise each other to be honest and speak up if something bothers us. Like you did yesterday.” Yoongi stated.

“That was really brave of you.” Hoseok agreed, pressing a kiss to Taes hair.

“Stop!” Tae giggled a little flustered.

“You know what people say,” Hoseok said brightly “All good things come in threes.”

Yoongi groaned but smiled anyway.

[Bonus]

"Can you please finally tell me what the hell happened in that bathroom of mine?" Jimin pressed. Tae smiled sheepishly.

"A lot. Basically I was an idiot and you were right and I should have listened to you and been honest and all this chaos could have been prevented." He admitted, staring at the ceiling. Jimin inhaled deeply.

"I'm not saying I told you so, but that's exactly what I'm saying." Jimin pouted. Tae looked over to his best friend who was laying next to him.

"Maybe your bathroom has magical match making skills we didn't know of. Somehow both our love stories started in there." Tae chuckled.

"Hmm, maybe I should make a business of it. We'll just lock couples in there until one of them cries or vomits. What could possibly go wrong?" Jimin joked.

"You mean except of the slight chance of us getting sued?" Jimin giggled and slapped Taes chest lightly.

"I can't believe you'll have threesomes on a regular basis now." The dancer mumbled. Taehyung snorted.

"It sounds like a lot of work to be honest. Isn't it exhausting?" Jimin asked and Taehyung couldn't help but love.

"Hobi does most of the work, so it's fine. He-" His sentence got cut off.

"Yah, actually I don't wanna know after all. But I'm happy for you, TaeTae." The two friends smiled at each other.

"I'm happy too."

[Thanks for reading! :)]

#bts #fanfiction #bts fanfiction #taegiseok #Kim Taehyung #Jung Hoseok #Min Yoongi #all good things come in threes 2 #Barista Taehyung #Polyamory #Coffee shops #Jimin is still a real one #side jikook #food poisoning #happy end

3 notes · View notes

sunyoonandstars · 7 years ago

Text

✨Linked✨ || BTS Soulmate AU Series || You x !Soulmate! Yoongi | You x Jimin || Part 15

Text/Social Media/Narrative Series || Soulmate & College AU

Previous Part | Next Part

LINKED MASTERLIST

“According to Greek mythology, humans were originally created with four arms, four legs and a head with two faces. Fearing their power, Zeus split them into two separate parts, condemning them to spend their lives in search of their other halves.”

― Plato, The Symposium

Credit goes to the incredible @789cream for creating this beautiful moodboard for my series. Thanks again!

Pairing You x !Soulmate! Yoongi You x Jimin

Word count 2.548

‘siblings’, according to age: Namjoon, Jimin, y/n, Taehyung (you grew up living in the same foster home as implied in earlier parts of this series)

fluff

Key: y/sh/n = your ship��s name

„Come on. Stop it. We’re seriously way too cozy for two perfect strangers.“

„Jeez, y/n. Can’t you just let me be? Cut a guy some slack. This is the best I have slept in months. Seems you’re like some kind of medicine to me. I didn’t even need my pills. So, just let me enjoy this. Please?“ He pauses. „And we’re not really strangers anymore, are we?“

Instantly, you cease from continuing your half-hearted attempts to regain your freedom, stunned by his simple question.

„I don’t think we ever really were strangers, to begin with“, you hesitantly whisper into the profound quiet that has seized the room. Even Suga now falls into complete immobility, still clinging to you, his face buried in your chest.

Minutes pass like that, with this man of whom you barely know much more than his name, holding you as if he was drowning and you were the only piece of driftwood left that saved him from certain death. Neither of you says a word. All you do is listen to Suga’s rhythmic breathing, a sound more soothing to you than any other. You can’t remember a time at which you felt equally secure.

A/N: This chapter may not be as exciting as you were hoping for. And it’s not as angsty as usual. But I just needed this. And the story needed this, too. Enjoy. I really hope you like it. Love, Ana

Previously, on ‘Linked’...

Eventually, after years of successfully having avoided it, you have come across your soulmate. An ominous stranger of whom you know no more than the back of his head, his phone number and that he works as a part-time barista at your (former) favorite coffee shop.

Having been pressured by a friend into contacting him, things start to get complicated. Because your heart already belongs to another. And, haunted by the ghosts of your past, the last thing you want is for your soul to find its one, true, destined mate.

After texting back and forth for days with the man only known to you as your ‘Soulmate’, you are forced to break contact since he is starting to get too close and your boyfriend Jimin is anything but pleased with that. When your paths, however, cross, the ominous ‘Suga’, as he calls himself, refrains from revealing his true identity to you - which would mean an instant link of souls and the end of his torture - and, instead, is set on making his way into your life the right way.

A fateful accident at your workplace is followed by a visit to the emergency room and a falling out with your boyfriend, leading you to turn to a virtual stranger for comfort ...

Soulmates.

You had always dreaded the day on which the birthmark on your left wrist would suddenly start itching, whereas for most people the moment their one and only destined soulmate’s name was supposed to reveal itself, burning under their skin, couldn’t seem to come soon enough.

Foolish romantics.

Because once both sides acknowledge their destined soulmate, a connection forms which can never be undone. Not even by death.

Who in their right mind would voluntarily bind their soul to that of another for life? To share their every joy and hurt and be faithful until they take their very last breath without even having a choice? To suffer indescribable agony once the other one exits this life and be left in utter loneliness, so bottomlessly deep nothing will ever be able to fill it again, causing you physical pain and insanity?

That’s right. Not you. Especially, because your heart already belongs to someone else … Does it though?

CHAPTER 15

You are awoken by the sound of a phone repeatedly vibrating somewhere in the room. The ceaseless sound eventually leads you to, only reluctantly, return to reality and depart from the soundest sleep you had in what feels like a lifetime.

The second you open your eyes, though, you are instantly wide awake, a stifled scream leaving your parted lips as you freeze in place, paralyzed by the initial shock.

„What the —“

You find yourself looking wide-eyed at the face of a man that clearly isn’t your boyfriend Jimin. It’s that Suga. Still fast asleep, it appears. Only mere inches separate the two of you. He’s so close, his warm breath brushes your skin.

You can’t help but keep staring. He looks so peaceful. And beautiful. You have to restrain yourself and actively keep your hand from reaching out to touch his pale cheek, your fingertips tingling with the urge to find out what it would feel like.

But what’s the meaning of all this?, your thoughts start racing the moment you realize that you must have spent the night on a sofa in what seems to be a music studio.

Right.

Slowly but surely, the memories of last night come back to you.

You accompanied Suga to his studio where you were supposed to work on some collaboration with him but instead ended up crying. A lot. Suga calmed you down, helped you breathe and, apparently, fall asleep. And, for some reason, you just woke up holding his hand in yours. Or rather clinging onto it for dear life, it seems.

What the hell were you thinking, y/n!?

Immediately, you let go of his warm hand and push it as far away from your body as possible, your stupid heart racing as if you’d just ran a marathon.

Eyes as big as dinner plates, you hold your breath as Suga now starts moving next to you, his brows drawing together for an irritated frown.

„What’s wrong with you?“, he goes on to grumble in a slurred voice that’s still heavy with sleep, not bothering to open his eyes, his words barely understandable. „Let me sleep, for fuck’s sake.“

All right …

Still unable to bring your limbs to move or even as much as get a word to pass your lips, you choose to merely lie there and let it happen as Suga moves closer yet, one leg now wrapped around yours and his arm casually draped across your waist, lips pursed in an adorable pout.

No. No, y/n. Nothing about this is adorable. Get a grip!

„What?“, he sighs, annoyance clearly discernible in his tone, after minutes of suspenseful silence have passed with you still stuck in his embrace, constantly reminding yourself not to get too comfortable. „Your tension is rubbing off on me. That’s not acceptable. Don’t you like this?“

„Yes, I do but — No! That’s not —“ You press your eyelids shut and draw a deep breath in order to stop yourself from spouting any more nonsense, unwilling to give Suga the satisfaction of actually admitting that you indeed enjoy his nearness, as you feel a hot blush slowly occupy your cheeks.

„It’s just — I think your phone keeps buzzing. Don’t you wanna answer it? And how can you sleep through that anyway? This noise is literally driving me crazy.“

„I’m a very good sleeper. And that’s not my phone, by the way.“

Still, his eyes remain closed.

„How would you know?“

„Mine died last night before I went to sleep. And yours keeps doing that. Vibrating nonstop. You must be very popular. It’s rather bothersome.“

Shit. Tae. Jimin. At least one of them is most likely worried out of their mind by now.

„Fuck!“, the whispered curse escapes your lips, eliciting a low chuckle from Suga. A shiver runs down your spine when his hot breath strikes your neck.

„What? Worried about that boyfriend of yours?“

With these words, he comfortably nestles his head into the crook of your neck, streaks of his mint-colored hair tickling your sensitive skin. You can picture his smug grin without even looking.

„Is this funny to you?“

„Not particularly.“

„Then let go of me!“, you hiss, struggling to free yourself from his arm, but, in response, Suga merely tightens his grip on you.

„No“, he sulkily mumbles into the fabric of your jumper, shaking his head.

„Come on. Stop it. We’re seriously way too cozy for two perfect strangers.“

Instantly, you cease from continuing your half-hearted attempts to regain your freedom, stunned by his simple question.

Until you catch a glimpse of your wristwatch.

„Shit!“, you shout out the second you realize that it’s already past noon, coming back down to earth with a jolt.

„What now?“, Suga mumbles against your shoulder, not bothering to lift his head.

„The time. It’s almost one p.m.. Fuck! Let go. I need to leave.“

You try to sit up, but he won’t let you, holding you in place with both his arms wrapped around your waist.

„Yah! Suga! Let go!“

„Why?“

„I already missed two classes today! I need to get going.“

„Why?“

„What do you mean why?“ With a groan, you temporarily abandon your efforts to break free from his viselike grip. „I can’t miss the remaining two. Or people will ask questions. I don’t know about your classes, but in mine attendance is mandatory, you know. Someone will notice if I’m not there.“

You can feel him shrug his shoulders.

„So what? Didn’t you just say you missed two classes already? So it’s too late now anyway.“

Finally, he loosens his embrace and props his head up on his hand so he can look you in the eye.

„Don’t go. Stay here with me instead. Let’s work on the collab. It’s gonna be perfect to get your mind off things. And I’m sure you’re a model student when I’m not involved.“ His last words are accompanied by a cheeky little smirk. It suits him.

„So, I guess missing your classes for once won’t end your academic career, right? Just tell the profs you weren’t feeling well. You wouldn’t even be lying. After last night, I’d say a day off would do you good. What do you say? Turn your phone off and just stay. In here. Shut the world out for a few hours. I do it all the time when everything just gets too much.“

Nibbling at your lower lip, your heart rate quickening once more, you avoid Suga’s searching gaze as you ponder the alternatives to his enticing proposal.

„Well … I guess you’re right. It’s too late to go to my classes now anyway. And I’m not really feeling up to it.“

„See? So just stay. Or go. Whatever you’re comfortable with. But take today off. Just spend it doing whatever you want. And whatever’s gonna help you feel better.“

„That sounds nice. I think I needed to hear this.“

With a frown, Suga eventually lets go of you and retracts, bringing enough distance between the two of you to have a good view of your face.

„You don’t need anyone’s permission to give yourself a break once in a while, you know?“, he starts talking, his voice calm and his expression grave. „Not mine, not your boyfriend’s. Literally not anyone’s consent but your own. Don’t be so hard on yourself all the time, y/n. Sometimes we need to make room so we can breathe. Life can get overwhelming. That doesn’t mean you’re weak. It’s only human.“

Once again his words undo a knot that you didn’t even know was there but that apparently had been sitting right there in your chest for as long as you can remember. It feels like a weight has been lifted from your shoulders. Breathing never was so easy.

„Do you understand?“, Suga inquires as you remain silent, his eyes searching yours, brows drawn together.

You barely manage a nod in response, not trusting your vocal cords while your eyes well up against your will.

„Good. Now, let’s stop with the tears, all right? I mean, it’s okay to let it all out, of course. But I feel kinda uncomfortable with being remembered as the guy who made you cry all the time, okay?“

„Okay“, you sniffle, hiding your face in your hands, his words actually educing a genuine smile from you.

„Great. Now, let’s get to work.“ Giving a yawn, Suga gets up from the sofa and stretches his limbs before he turns around to questioningly raise a brow at you.

„Or don’t you wanna? I mean, it’s perfectly fine if you wanna go and do something else instead“, he nonchalantly claims, but the rosy tint of his cheeks tells another story.

Cute, you think to yourself.

„No. I want to stay. I really do“, you reply without hesitation, only now becoming fully aware of the fact that that’s indeed what you long to do the most. „I want to stay.“

„Really?“ He almost sounds surprised. „That’s great. I’m sure we’ll get a lot of work done. It’s still early and I feel rested and ready to work. What about you? Hungry? Thirsty? There’s a shower down the hall, in case you wanna freshen up. You can lock the door, so you don’t have to be afraid that somebody might come in. And I have a few spare shirts lying around here somewhere. Drinks and food in the fridge. We could literally stay holed up in here all day long.“

„Wow, you’re prepared for any eventuality, huh?“

You can’t help but let out a short laugh. Never before have you heard Suga complete as many consecutive sentences as he did just now, especially not in such an excited manner.

„Sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh at you“, you immediately apologize as you are forced to witness regret overshadow his beautiful features.

„Nah, it’s alright“, he shrugs his shoulders. „At least I made you laugh. So, anything you need? Should I go get breakfast while you’re in the shower? I mean, I don’t usually eat breakfast. But if you’re —“

„Yes, I’m hungry“, you cut him off, smiling. „It’s very considerate of you to make such an offer. But I’m honestly content with whatever you have here.“

„Well“, Suga grins. „Ramen and rice balls it is, then.“

„Sounds good to me.“ „So, you’re a girl of simple taste?“

„Maybe. Maybe not.“

You wink at him as you push aside the blanket he must have covered you in last night and eventually get up from the sofa, going on to straighten your back with a content sigh.

„Jeez, I’m glad you don’t have a single mirror in here. I’m sure I look like crap“, you mumble, more to yourself, running a hand through your messy hair.

„You look fine to me.“

You can’t hold back an amused scoff.

„Sure. You don’t sound too convincing, but thanks for trying.“ You avoid Suga’s deep, dark eyes, feeling them follow your every move. „So, that shirt you mentioned …“

„Oh. Yeah. Sure. Hold on a sec.“

While you slowly make your way to the small studio’s door, Suga starts hectically searching through a few drawers until he comes up with a black long-sleeved jersey.

„This should do.“

„It’s perfect.“

„The bathroom?“

„Fifth door to the left, just around the corner.“

„Thanks.“

You slip out of the room without looking back, quickly closing the door behind you before Suga can say another word.

Yoongi can feel his heart pound against his aching rib cage even though you are long gone. Unable to move, he just keeps standing there, staring at the door through which you just left, part of him still astounded by the way things went between the two of you ever since you entered his studio last night and part of him afraid that it was all just a mirage, that you didn’t look at him the way you did but that he merely needed you to and only saw what he wanted to see. He can’t lose the feeling that he will somehow scare you away if he doesn’t make a better effort to keep his feelings in check in the future. That quiet little voice in the back of Yoongi’s mind just won’t stop taunting him.

She’s gonna leave you, it mocks him. Just like they all do. You’re gonna be your usual self and as soon as she gets to know you for who you really are, she’s out the door. Maybe you creeped her out already? Maybe she won’t come back from the bathroom? What are you gonna do then, hmm? Are you gonna make her link with you?

„No!“, he screams out loud, startled by the sound of his own voice echoing throughout the silent studio.

With a shake of his head, he gets rid of those poisonous thoughts.

No. He’s not going to make you link with him. That’s now what you want. That’s not what it should be like. The last thing Yoongi wants is to force a love on you that you do not believe in.

For now, he is perfectly content with simply loving you, even if his feelings might now be reciprocated. Not yet, anyway. With simply being here for you, catching your fall and helping you back up. That’s already so much more than he could ever have asked for, more than he dared to imagine he could possibly have.

The ghosts of his past should remain just that, he decides. They shouldn’t be allowed to haunt what the two of you could have together.

And he will not have any kind of expectations on you.

This is just the beginning.

Then why keeps Yoongi’s heart racing like that of a nervous schoolboy as he anxiously awaits your return? Why do his thoughts wander down paths of imaginary futures, possibilities upon possibilities, each more painful than the last? Why do you make his knees turn to water? You, the rogue variable. The only thing in this whole world that could make him come undone. Nonetheless, he is drawn to you like a moth towards the flame. And he won’t fight it anymore.

Even if you will be the end of him, it shall be a glorious one.

END OF CHAPTER 15 || TO BE CONTINUED

Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it so far and this chapter didn’t disappoint. 😌

Here you can find my Masterlist in case you feel like checking out more of my BTS fiction.

Also, if you have Spotify, you can listen to the ‘official’ playlist to the ‘Linked’ series here. It contains all the songs having been sent back and forth between Yoongi and the reader in the past and some more tunes fitting the series’ vibe.

Take care and have a great day! ☺️💖

NONE of the GIFs used are mine. Credit goes to the initial creators. Thank you for your hard work and dedication.

210 notes · View notes

ayy-to-zee · 7 years ago

Text

Touch

masterlist //rules// request

Pairing: Haechan/ Lee Dong Hyuck X Reader

Genre: Fluff, super tiny bit of angst

Word Count: 1.9K +

Summary: 『 Touch seems to be just as essential as sunlight. 』- Diane Ackerman

『 I can’t even remember days without you or times I felt more comfortable alone... 』- NCT 127; TOUCH

☀️⭐✨☀️⭐✨☀️ ⭐✨☀️⭐✨☀️⭐

Lee Dong Hyuck certainly lived up to the name “Haechan.” It was a rather cute nickname that his CEO gave him the day he debuted as a part of NCT. Maybe it was part of because of his job as an idol, but to you, he “shone brightly” wherever he went.

That was what you’ve noted, seeing your boyfriend dance in his group’s Japanese debut music video. He definitely stood out to you more in this comeback, seeing him perform with such charisma and confidence. It disappointed you slightly that he didn’t have much of actual lines and mostly back-up vocals. You loved hearing his singing voice; it reminded you of the times he’d sing to himself when he busy cooking or traipsing around the grocery store aisles, looking around for condiments he thought you’d need for your rather bare pantry.

But, oh well, as long as Haechan is happy with his work and is giving his all in Japan at it, you’re happy, too.

You sighed, opening up your Messages app and tapping the first contact you’ve recently messaged:

📱📱[May 22, 2018, 23:45 PM]📱📱

You sent: heeellooooo my bootiful boyfriend ღゝ◡╹)ノ♡

hyuckiepoo sent: aaaaaaaand the bootiful boyfriend arrives~

hyuckiepoo sent: and jfc

hyuckiepoo sent: yuta’s taught you to use the kaomoji app, huh? that’s so old-school

You sent: I know but they looked cute! So why not? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

hyuckiepoo sent: since you’re up at this time and texting me, you probably just watched the new jap mv even tho it was released 2 weeks ago. you didn’t mention it last time bc you didn’t watch it, right?

You sent: (´⊙ω⊙`)！

hyuckiepoo sent: you’re just that predictable, boo

You sent: (ง •̀_•́)ง Fight me if you dare, poo-

hyuckiepoo sent: calm thyself, boo. I get it, work was probably being an ass to you during that time, right? 乁( ◔ ౪◔)ㄏ

You sent: Now, you’re using it? (o`Ao)?

hyuckiepoo sent: It’s cute when I use it (◡ ‿ ◡ ✿)

You sent: Whatever you makes you sleep at night, hyuckie (∗´꒳`)

hyuckiepoo sent: Well? How was it? Did I charm you all over again? (๑‾̀◡‾́)

You sent: (u v u)

You sent: You looked real cute.

You sent: Like I wanted to pat your head during your center time.

hyuckiepoo sent: YAH.

hyuckiepoo sent: YOU STILL STUCK IN TOUCH?

hyuckiepoo sent: THIS IS A SEXIER CONCEPT. EMPHASIS ON THE S E X Y.

hyuckiepoo sent: I DID NOT PRACTICE LOOKING AT THE CAMERA FOR A MONTH TO BE THOUGHT OF AS CUTE BY MY OWN GIRLFRIEND

☀️⭐✨☀️⭐✨☀️ ⭐✨☀️⭐✨

You laughed aloud in your bedroom, surprised at his quick response to your comment and the sudden lack of kaomojis. You started rolling over on your bed at the thought of him just practicing what his face must have looked like. He probably got advice from either Taeyong or Yuta.

Okay, you admitted, the first half of the time that he appeared, he looked really... really cool, but—

☀️⭐✨☀️⭐✨☀️ ⭐✨☀️⭐✨

You sent: BUT YOU LOOKED TINY WITH THAT BEAN POLE DANCING BEHIND YOU

You sent: DON’T PROVE ME OTHERWISE

hyuckiepoo sent: I CAN’T HELP THAT JOHNNY WAS PLACED BEHIND ME

hyuckiepoo sent: YOU-

hyuckiepoo sent: U W U

hyuckiepoo sent: Because I am a kind af boyfriend and am just that nice, I will not fly all the way back to Seoul to hit you

You sent: Yes, hyuckie poo, you are the best bf ever u v u

hyuckiepoo sent: But that doesn’t mean you’re off the hook, boo

You sent: O v O !!

hyuckiepoo sent: Love me tons when I come back, k? We’ll see if I forgive you then. I want 10x the cuddles.

You sent: Yes, yes, the love of my life, I will spoil you rotten ( ˊᵕˋ )♡.°⑅

hyuckiepoo sent: y o u b e t t e r (๑◕ㅂ▰)～♥

📱📱[-END CONVO-]📱📱

You smiled at the thought, him being back home. Your playful bickering together, your late night movie dates, your trips to the arcades and amusement parks, your day-long cuddling sessions, you waking up next to him the morning after a sleepover—

You stared at his contact photo in your messages before you looked to your other SNS accounts for pictures of him doing well in Japan. You chuckled bitterly as you scrolled down each feed. He really was a “full sun,” indeed, you thought, dropping your phone weakly onto the bed with a fan camera focused on him playing on the screen.

Even though you sounded so close to each other, he felt so... unreachable.

Even though you two called yourselves a couple, the both of you were just so far apart from each other nowadays.

Yes, you guys were together for three months, but you barely spend any physical time together. Most of your time was spent online. Those dates where you actually got to be together you had happened only once in every blue moon just because your schedules just happened to give you both time off.

Even with all that, you had no reason to doubt his love for you even when the distance between you was so wide. You knew the trials that came with dating him. You had no reason to think he was being unloyal to you. He proved his love for you every single day and didn’t make you feel unhappy.

So why did it still hurt you so much?

You felt the back of your eyes sting. You sniffed your nose and wiped your eyes immediately with your sweater sleeve. Nope. You were not going to cry about this again. Yes, it’s been nearly a month since you last saw each other but you knew what would happen if you agreed to date him. Three months ago, when you returned his confession, you figured this would eventually happen once you date someone so untouchable.

Your mind was brought back down to reality once you heard your ringtone blaring off from your phone. You wiped your eyes once again, picking up your phone and checking who was daring to call at nearly one in the morning.

📞📞“ hyuckiepoo is calling ”📞📞

What a fucking scare, you thought. It’s been quite a while since your last phone call with him. You sniffed again, clearing your sinuses to make sure your voice sounded at least normal enough and tapped the the green icon.

“Hyuck?”

“No, this is your social security service...” you rose a brow at the rather polite tone going off through the phone. “Yah! Of course it’s me, haha! Who else would be calling you?” You giggled at the sound of his voice. It’s been so long since you heard him laugh so heartily like that through the phone.

“Hm... Maybe Jeno? He said he’s going to call to check up on me since my boyfriend isn’t in Seoul to do that, anyway,” you mused, biting your bottom lip in expectation.

You heard him mock a scoff on the other side of the line. “‘Scuse me?!” you lightly snorted at his tone, disbelief laced into his voice. “Are you seriously talking to Jeno of all people behind my back?”

“W-Well...! What’s wrong with Jeno? He’s nice, isn’t he?” you asked, feigning innocence as you scooched over to grab the stuffed toy Dong Hyuck gave you on your first date on your drawer before you let your back rest comfortably on the pillows.

It wasn’t all untrue. Jeno did keep you some company but it was mostly limited to meme-sending and you asking if your boyfriend will ever return, which he is honestly tired of hearing because:

📱📱[May 21, 2018, 20:45 PM]📱📱

jeno my child sent: why don’t you ask him yourself?? you text him all the time smh;;; now lemme sleep early today. being an mc tomo = tons of work

📱📱[-END CONVO-]📱📱

“Boo. News flash, if you don’t remember. He’s called Je-no fun for a reason,” you scoffed at his mockery. “But you could have called me during this week, I wanted to hear your voice even for a little bit...”

“Boy, he’s not that bad. His memes are practically golden, I guess,” you huffed, trying to play it away. You froze for a bit there at his statement, biting your lip nervously. Even if you did, you’d probably be too busy to answer my phone calls, anyway, said the anxiety and insecurity bubbling up in the back of your throat. You had so much excuses to give to make up for the fear of him getting tired of you eating you up during the past month.

“Fossilized gold, probably. I send you the best memes and you know it, boo,” Donghyuck huffed through the phone. “When did that guy ever send you anything that actually made you laugh? That’s right. Never, haha!”

“Sure you do, bub,” you said in rather light agreement as if to tease him just a bit more. You could already hear him tapping his foot in frustration on the bedroom floor of his hotel suite. The thought made you giggle a bit. You could imagine him walking around the entire dorm room just trying to look for reasons why you shouldn’t be talking to Jeno.

After a few seconds of silence on the other side of the line, you expected him to start to talk about what the members did today, complain about his how tiring his performance was in the showcases they held, maybe ask you how you were doing at work, talk about what he saw in Japan that reminded him of you, or ask if you were sleeping enough at night.

Instead you were caught off-guard by the next three words his voice emitted: “I miss you...”

You didn’t know if you held your breath or not but that seriously took your breath away. “Hyuck...” you tried to speak in an attempt to try to play if off like you would usually do but he just interrupted you, beginning to voice himself out.

“Hear me out. It’s been a month by now since we last spent time together. I know I may have said that I’ve been okay in our texts. Well, I technically am but...” he continued, the cheery tone in his voice disappearing. You swore, it sounded like he wanted to cry.

“I couldn’t get my head off the thought of you... I keep trying to focus but I keep thinking back to the days when we would stay in each others arms all day... I want to hold your hand, hug you, kiss you... And when I think about you not being next to me, it hurts a lot...God, it’s cringy, what the hell, but I seriously can’t take it... I know our schedules suck like shit but I really really want to be with you so so bad... I want to see you...”

All this time about you silently worrying about yourself being a burden and you failed to even see if your boyfriend felt the same. What a great partner you were, you bitterly thought to yourself. You bit your lip as it quivered, finding it hard to breathe as he continued to speak.

“Hey...?” As much as you wanted to quickly respond to him to assure that you were fine and not going to cry, you couldn’t. All this time of feeling so alone without him just pent up within you and finally let loose.

“Me, too, Dong Hyuck...” You finally replied, your voice trembling with every second. “I miss you so so much...” you hiccuped, wiping your tears away. “It felt so lonely without you... I wanted to fly to you so bad but I didn’t want to get in your way... I didn’t want to feel like I was being a burden to you... I didn’t want you to get tired of me and not love me anymore...”

“Who said I’d stop loving you?”

Your eyes widened, hearing his voice simultaneously from different places, one from your phone and the other as if he was in the ... same room...

You whipped your head to see the very same Lee Dong Hyuck you fell in love with, roller bag handle in one hand, his phone in the other one. You remembered buying him the jacket and shirt he donned for his birthday. He pulled down the hood and pulled his black mask down, his eyes looking at you with such a loving gaze as he flashed you that grin that made you melt a thousand times over.

“Surprise, I guess?” he said, shrugging his shoulders. A small laugh escaping his lips when he saw that you drop your phone on the bed.

You immediately jumped off the bed, rushing over to pull him into your arms, feeling his warmth envelope you as he returned the favour with just as much fervor, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

Gods, he couldn’t recall the last time he ever brought you into his arms like this. Did you always feel this soft and warm? He didn’t remember your hair getting longer either. Did you forget to trim your hair? Whatever, he didn’t care anymore.

“I missed you so much, Hyuck...” you murmured, your tears dampening that precious jacket you got him. Dong Hyuck could care less, anyway. You were here. Right beside him. That was all that mattered to him.

“... I missed me, too, haha,” you laughed softly against his chest, lightly hitting his shoulder before he pulled you away from him. “But I missed you more...” he breathes out, his voice shaky and desperate.

“I love you so so much, (Y/N)...” he whined softly, resting his forehead against your own before cupping his hands over your cheeks and leaning over to graciously plant kisses on your forehead, each of your cheeks, your nose, and each area at the side of your lips before pulling away to take a good look at your face, as if implanting the image of you into the very back of his head. Every crease, wrinkle and imperfection you had on you and were insecure about just made you seem so... so... you and Dong Hyuck wouldn’t have you any other way.

Being Haechan, the idol who “shone brightly” beyond your grasp, was definitely a huge part of his life. But you definitely cannot ignore the fact that behind the light shining brightly was the shadow of Lee Dong Hyuck, the witty, mischievous, brusque, yet soft-hearted man who declared he’d love you like there was no tomorrow.

Yes, your relationship was rather complicated and there was no telling if you both would last long. There will definitely come days where you’re forced to do nothing but watch him from afar and bask as he shines on stage like the star he was born to be.

All that mattered to you, though, were moments like these, where his touch was just as important as sunlight.

-END-

☀️⭐✨☀️⭐✨☀️ ⭐✨☀️⭐✨

A/N: Hello! This is my first time to post up or show any of my written works so comments/critiques/feedback of any sort is super helpful! >v<!!

29 notes · View notes

mleighsquickspot · 7 years ago

Text

M’L Short

The Thinkers Smile...

Police Spokesperson: We have sufficient reason to believe that we have finally caught the man responsible for five murders. It’s been a combination of twelve months of work done by a number of stations in the area, and we are grateful for the press coverage and the hard work done by all who have been involved…

The year was 1980 in Chicago, Illinois and down the hall and away from the glaring shots of the news cameras; in a small waiting room a man sits calmly in a chair awaiting the arrival of the detective who was appointed to question him. He is dressed quite well in a black suit with matching tie and shoes. He has on a crisp white shirt, he is clean shaven, and his hair is pristinely cut so that it accents his everyday face. The man in the chair sitting quietly looks like an everyday guy one may see walking passed them on the street; yet, behind those green eyes there is an essence of a cold and calculating menace.

In time the man is moved from the small waiting room to a bigger interrogation room, where he is watched by several police officials. He says nothing while he fixes himself in the new chair that he was placed in, and the officials stare at him in cold distain as he smiles back at them. There is a notable silence in the room until the door opens and in walks the man that has wanted to speak with this person for some time. This man just so happens to be Detective Blake; he had been on the trial of this murderer for a year and he was the one of course appointed to question this possible killer. All the other men leave the room giving one more look at the man sitting in the chair smiling at them and then the door finally shuts.

Detective Blake: (sitting up in the chair) So, are we comfortable now? Do you need anything before we begin, coffee, water, a soda maybe?

Man in the Chair: (smiling) No thank you my dear detective, but no I’m fine.

Detective Blake: (looking the man in the eyes) Well, I guess we’ll just get down to business. My name is Detective Parker Blake, and is there anything you want to tell me before we start?

Man in the Chair: (leaning forward in the chair smiling) Yes, yes I do. By the end of this little meeting I will be walking out of this place a free man.

Detective Blake: (smiling) Yah, right; why do you say or even think that?

Man in the Chair: (smiling) Call it a hunch.

Detective Blake: (no longer smiling and opening a folder in front of him) Hum, so by our records your name is Deon Maxwell; no middle name. You were born December 31st, 1950 in Grapevine, Georgia. You have no known family and live alone.

Maxwell: All that is correct detective. I was abandoned as a child at an orphanage; were I live until I was eighteen.

Detective Blake: (looking at Maxwell then back down at the file) Yes, eventually you made your way to Europe and went to school there. You studied psychology at a local university and became shrink. By the age of twenty five you moved back to the states and have been under if not completely off the radar pretty much your whole life, until now.

Maxwell: (smiling) That is also true my dear detective.

Detective Blake: (looking sternly at Maxwell) I’m sure you know why you’re here Mr. Maxwell. About ten months ago a string of murders began happening in a pattern of about one every two months. And if you can Mr. Maxwell maybe you can explain how it came to be that you were either at the scene of the crime or in each case you knew the deceased person.

Maxwell: (sitting back in the chair still smiling) Why of course my dear detective, I can explain my presence in these poor peoples lives prior to their untimely deaths. However, if your plan is to blame these deaths on me then you better remember that you have nothing tying me to these people other than the face I knew them; whether I was at the scene or not.

Detective Blake: (sitting back in his chair) That is true, but we brought you in because we know you had something to do with these deaths, and our evidence can prove that you either killed these people are you caused the circumstances that lead to their deaths. So, why don’t we begin?

Maxwell: (sitting up in his chair) Well then if that’s the case my dear detective, then why don’t you walk me through what you think you have on me and we’ll just see about the outcome.

Detective Blake: (smiling) Ok, lets begin with your first victim, about ten months ago; one Mr. Duvall.

Maxwell: (grinning) Ah, yes; he was a lovely man. He was like a father to me.

Detective Blake: Yes, so much so that he placed you down in his will as the sole beneficiary of his sizable estate after only knowing you for a few weeks. Now how would you like to explain that Mr. Maxwell?

Maxwell: That’s your job isn’t it my dear detective, not mine.

Detective Blake: (looking in the file folder) My pleasure Mr. Maxwell. After some digging we were able to ascertain that you somehow got close to the old man, making his push all he knew away. Witnesses state that Mr. Duvall became paranoid and unpredictable within a short time and as a result was placed in a mental wing at a county nursing home. And in days of his admittance he was found dead, hanging in his room from the ceiling fan.

Maxwell: (shaking his head) Oh yes, what a horrible tragedy.

Detective Blake: (looking into Maxwell’s eyes) Right, but not for you because soon after is death; the next week to be precise, all of his money and assets were awarded to you. With no action that could be taken by either his family or friends to stop you. Also, I forgot to mention this but you were the last one to see him alive. In fact you saw him just moments before he was found dead in his room.

Maxwell: (looking calm and sure of himself) Yes, detective that is all true, but as I’m sure as you know I met with him several hours before he was found. And I assure you when I left him he was very much alive. I’m sure you looked at the footage from the room they have cameras you know. And I’m sure your team dusted for prints and looked for other evidence that proved I was the killer.

The detective glared at Maxwell as he said these things, sitting across from him; knowing that he was right. That even with witnesses there was no physical evidence placing Maxwell exactly at the scene of the crime when Mr. Duvall died. There were no materials on or around the body and nothing else that suggested anything else other than the old man simply hung himself due to a mental break.

Maxwell: (smiling) So, my dear detective Blake, would you like to try again?

Detective Blake: (smirking) Oh, I can and I will with pleasure. Let’s move on for now in time a few months later to one Mrs. Janice, your next victim.

Maxwell: (patting his chest) Dear sweet woman, she loved me so; just like a son. More correctly like her poor deceased son. (smiling) Well at least now they are together.

Detective Blake: (looking annoyed) Right, we found that you met her as she was looking for applicants to take an apartment she was renting.

Maxwell: (changing position in his chair) That is correct detective.

Detective Blake: (looking at the file folder) You lived at the residence and supposedly did repairs for the lady at another location she was renovating.

Maxwell: (rubbing his hand on his jacket) Yes, I am very good with my hands.

Detective Blake: (looking up from the folder) You followed the same pattern as your first victim. Within a short time you had isolated Mrs. Janice to the point that she was hardly ever seen by her friends and family. Neighbors claimed that before she died; all she did was take frequent trips over to your residence from her own, which we were told was quite a trip fro a woman of her age.

Maxwell: Well what can I say, I am very good company.

Detective Blake: (staring) I’m sure. Anyway, just like Mr. Duvall; Mrs. Janice ends up dead. She some how falls from a second story window breaking both her back and her neck. And once again a week or so later all her worldly possessions and money end up going to you. No attempt is made to fight off the decision by her family, what did you do threaten them to keep them quiet?

Maxwell: (laughing) Oh, my dear detective, you have such a wonderful imagination.

Detective Blake: (slamming his fist on the table) Cut the crap you sick son of a bitch, what did you to that woman?

Maxwell: (looking Blake in the eye) I did nothing to dear Mrs. Janice.

Detective Blake: (getting up from his chair) Don’t give me that, she took her swan dive while you were with her. Witnesses said that they saw you looking out the very window she jumped from only seconds after she did it.

Maxwell: (sitting up in his chair) Ah! My dear sir you just said the magic word, jumped. Just like Mr. Duvall, I my have been present in this case just before she died, but did you find any evidence that the poor woman was indeed pushed out that window. Or, did you only conclude that she jumped to her horrible demise?

Once again Blake had been shut down by Maxwell due to evidence he was correct about. There was just like before nothing to suggest that the woman was pushed out the window. There were no foreign fibers or prints either on the window sill or on the woman’s body that were not her own. The only thing that investigators could agree on was that it was odd that she broke both her neck and back on a two story fall. That is a fall that many people have made and walked away from; they all agreed that it must have been a one in a million freak accident. Even with Maxwell being there no could say for sure that he had pushed her out the window; from the position of her body on the ground it looked as if she jumped.

Maxwell: (yawning) Well detective is that all you have or is there more?

Detective Blake: (sitting back down in his chair) Of course there is more. There are the three other victims that you killed you psycho.

Maxwell: (sitting back in the chair, making himself comfortable) Please detective due tell.

As detective Blake out lined the deaths of three more innocent people, the deaths became more and more gruesome. They went on through the night and into the morning outlining the step by step deaths of one Mr. Flannery, one Mrs. Gordon, and finally one Mr. Vance. Mr. Flannery who was Maxwell’s third victim knew him for all of a few weeks ended up dead due to a gun shot wound to the head. The fourth victim was Mrs. Gordon who knew Maxwell for a few months and was then found dead in her home with the skin of her face missing. And the fifth victim was on Mr. Vance who was found burned to a crisp after his car went down an embankment and exploded. He had also known Maxwell for a short time. Each deceased ended up leaving something for Maxwell that friends and family either could not or would not contest. Thus in each case Maxwell became some what richer or more important thanks to it.

Detective Blake was just waiting to see how Maxwell was going to explain his way out of each death and wanted him to trip up so he could catch him in one of his many lies. Yet; Maxwell never did, Maxwell had a perfectly possible explanations for each death. He laid out how he knew each person and how they could have come to their early departures, but only after a little assurance from the detective.

Detective Blake: (sitting back in his chair getting comfortable) Now then Mr. Maxwell …

Maxwell: (smiling) Oh, my good detective, please call me Deon.

Detective Blake: (looking annoyed) No thanks, Mr. Maxwell. As I was saying if you didn’t kill these people then how did they end up dead and leaving you their possessions?

Maxwell: (reclining in his chair) Well, let’s see; first I’m not under arrest am I?

Detective Blake: (smirking) No sir, you haven’t been read your rights or processed through our system, and you haven’t asked for a lawyer. So, nothing you say can be used against you in a court of law.

Maxwell: (looking calmly at Blake) Well, that’s just fine; I won’t need any of that anyway. But I just wanted to make sure that we were just having a little chat.

Detective Blake: (smiling) Yes sir, we are just having a little chat. So let’s have it already, how will you explain all this away?

Maxwell: (adjusting his jacket) My dear Detective Blake, I can explain all of these horrible events with just one word “Fate”.

Detective Blake: (looking puzzled) Fate! What the hell does that mean?

Maxwell: What I mean detective is that I did indeed meet and become to know these five people in question. Who unfortunately ended up having bad things happen to them; which did result in their untimely deaths. But I did not kill them or in any way lead them to their deaths.

Detective Blake: (looking very interested) I’m intrigued Mr. Maxwell, so what kinds of bad things did these upstanding and law abiding people do that could have possibly led them to their deaths? You are full of it and are a really bad liar. We are going to put you under the jail for the deaths of these people; who’s only bad situation was that they knew you.

Maxwell: (smiling) You are so passionate my dear detective, but even with what you think you have on me after all your brilliant detective work; you really made no attempt to find out what was going on in their lives. You saw me and that was that.

Thus as Detective Blake had done earlier, Mr. Maxwell began to lay out what he knew about the personal lives of these people whom he claimed to be so close to in such a short amount of time. Maxwell stated that in the case of Mr. Duvall it turned out that he didn’t trust his family. They had squandered much of his fortune and as he got older they planned to place him in a nursing home. He had recently become ill and used the chance to take action when he met Maxwell. He claimed to be the old man’s only advocate helping him to stay in his own home, and thus before anyone had a chance he changed his will leaving everything he had to Maxwell. He wrote the will in such a way that his family could not fight his wishes and soon after his illness did cause him to have to go into a home, where he in their last visit had decided not to live in that sort of situation.

Next there is the tragic case of Mrs. Janice, who from Maxwell’s words was living in a lonely existence before her death. Now Mrs. Janice was getting older and was also ill like Mr. Duvall. Yet, unlike him she lived alone and really had nothing in the way of money. All she had was her home full of memories for company. When she met Maxwell she told him that he bared an uncanny resemblance to her long dead son Jackson, who had died in a car accident only a few years earlier. Maxwell stated that it was true that they spent time together in both his apartment and at her home. She would mainly show him pictures of her son and other long dead family, and express to him how glad she was that he was with her; she was very lonely. The day came when Maxwell told her that he was going to be moving on to another place, and thanked her for her time and hospitality. Maxwell stated that the last thing she told him was that if he was going to leave then she would to, and just like that she was gone. It was only a few days later while he was helping friends of hers clean out her home that he learned that she left him all she had; all her worldly possessions that he sold to antique shops in the area. As for any money in that case he claimed to only be awarded a few hundred dollars.

As for Mr. Flannery, Maxwell claimed that he owed money to a few loan sharks and couldn’t repay them. Maxwell said that he only met him by playing golf with him by chance one day. Maxwell claimed that Flannery called him a day before he died and thanked him for that nice after noon and to look out for a gift from him in a few days. Maxwell said that he received a set of golf clubs the following week, and that is how he learned that he had died. And there was no money to be had because, the poor man had none.

In the case of Mrs. Gordon, Maxwell claimed to have met her through an outreach program for those who want to help the elderly. She like Mrs. Janice was tragic due to the fact that she lived alone and had no family other than her little dog. Maxwell claimed that Mrs. Gordon really did need to be in a nursing home but insisted that she could continue to live on her own. He stated that he once stopped her from mistaking her dog’s heart worn medicine for her pain medicine and began marking her bottles for her. The volunteers were on a rotating schedule and he was only with her for a month or so; then he moved to his next assignment. After her death a few weeks after Maxwell had moved on, he learned that she had left him her dog; which he promptly gave away to a family with children.

And of course there is Mr. Vance whom Maxwell claimed to share a passion for antique cars and shows. Mr. Vance would fix up the cars and then drive them for show. Maxwell claimed that the car in question that he was found in was a classic that he had previously asked Mr. Vance not to drive due to the breaks not being completely up to par. But Mr. Vance Maxwell claimed just laughed and told him that he worried too much for someone who was so young. Or at least young compared to him. Maxwell claimed he received a call a few days after Mr. Vance’s death and that is when he learned that the man had left him his entire antique car collection as well as some money to keep the cars up. Maxwell said he gave the cars to a car museum as well as the money for their up keep.

As Maxwell finished his explanations Detective Blake hated to think that any of it was even possibly true. Blake stared across the table at Maxwell as if he was evil itself. He was expected to buy these stories being pulled out of this guy’s ass, when he knew who was responsible for the deaths of these poor people and in his mind possibly more. Blake could only guess at how many more people had goon down because of this man, but he was determined that no more would if he could help it.

Detective Blake: (looking unconvinced) Well Mr. Maxwell, I guess that wraps things up. You are good Mr. Maxwell, so we are supposed to believe that all these people died due to accidents and other circumstances, right? And that each one just so happened to leave you something for being a nice guy? I don’t buy one word of it Mr. Maxwell, not one word!

Maxwell: (still calm) That is entirely your choice my dear Detective Blake, however before our little chat began I did ask if I was under arrest and you made it very clear that I was not. So if you don’t mind I will be on my way now.

Police Chief Andrews: (opening the door) Blake can I take to you?

Detective Blake: (getting up from the chair) Sure, Now sit tight for a few more moments, I’ll be right back.

Police Chief Andrews: (looking defeated) Blake I’m sorry but we have to let him go.

Detective Blake: (looking upset) What do you mean we have to let him go? He’s the murder!

Police Chief Andrews: (trying to stay calm) We don’t have the evidence we need to stick it to him. Everything he said could be just as possible as him just killing these people. We can’t hold him on the “he knew them so he killed them” evidence we have, I’m sorry; cut him loose.

Detective Blake: (looking upset) Yes sir! (opening the door to the interrogation room) Mr. Maxwell you are free to go, sorry for the inconvenience.

Maxwell: (standing up and fixing his suit) Not a problem my dear detective, you were just doing your job.

And just as he had said the previous afternoon Deon Maxwell walked out of the interrogation room, down the hall, and out the station doors; into the early morning air as a free man. In the following days and weeks detective Blake and his team learned that everything Maxwell had said was in fact true about the five people, when it came to how they died and circumstances surrounding their deaths. Mr. Duvall hung himself with a belt he had hidden in his suitcase some days before he was taken to the home. Mrs. Janice threw herself out a window due to loneliness; Mr. Flannery shot himself in the head with a gun he owned. Mrs. Gordon accidently took her dogs medicine and Mr. Vance’s brakes on his antique car gave out as he was rounding a turn.

Years pile on and the case of the suicide five as it comes to be called still bothers Detective Blake. From time to time he would pull out the case file and his own notes, as well as the notes he took while Maxwell was recounting how the five could have died. He knew that the evidence fit the causes of death and that every angle had since been investigated on the matter. But he could never shake the feeling that he knew that somehow that Deon Maxwell was in some way involved in these people’s deaths. Deon Maxwell never again came up on Blake’s radar for any other crimes, nor did he come up anywhere else; it was as if he had vanished. Blake knew that he could no longer make Maxwell answer his question but one day while looking over the notes Blake believed he answered the questions for himself.

Detective Blake: (speaking to himself) Where did the belt come from in the Duvall case? The nurses check out the entering patients to make sure that don’t have anything with them that could be used to harm themselves or others. Who brought Mrs. Gordon her last set of pills? He said he used to mark them for her so she wouldn’t take the wrong ones. Where did Mr. Flannery get the gun he used to kill himself? We found that he had sold all his guns a few years prior and his registration had expired due to his age, so how did he get it himself. Mr. Vance’s breaks went completely out, but he had just worked on that car himself, so he would have known if there was a problem. And Mrs. Janice died after a two story fall; how did she break both her back and neck when all she could have broken was her arm or hip, even for her age jumping out a window. What if they were broken before she went out that window?

Now after so many years looking at one case Blake was as sure now as he was then that at least Deon Maxwell had caused the deaths of the five and he knew how in each case. However, Blake also knew that Maxwell had gotten away with murder. The only thing that continued to go through his mind was the words Maxwell had told him during the interrogation…

Maxwell: Well my dear Detective Blake, I can explain these horrible events with just one word “Fate”.

Those words echoed in Blake’s mind until his death a few years later. At his funeral service he had family and close friends there to send him off, and in the far background there was an unknown figure also there to pay his final respects; and perhaps to run it in that he was never caught by a man who had all the answers in front of him and was unable to stick them together sooner.

image: Abstract The Thinker by Stephen Younts

Let me know what you think and pass the thought along.

#short #story #stories #shortstory #shortstories #mleigh #mlshort #thethinkerssmile #questions #thoughts #conversations

11 notes · View notes

ieryana · 6 years ago

Text

Dinner with Christians

*** Disclaimer *** - this is tongue in cheek fun. If you take it seriously and get triggered because bew hew you know a Christians then tough shit frankly. Enjoy! ________________________________________________________________

"Fun as in 'naked twister' fun?" he quipped, slightly too hopefully. Felicity shot him one of her narrow-eyed, ‘you better behave’ sort of looks and squeezed his arm. "It's just that I went to a party once and it was full of forty-something swingers and-" "Oh you did not," She admonished with a flap of her hand that signalled that she didn't believe him and that the subject was dead. "Besides," she added, almost as an afterthought, "they're good Christian people, they wouldn't be into anything like that." "They're what?" A look of horror flew across Max’s face. Last time he’d encountered Christians en masse was his Christening, and he’d slept through that. "Flick! Daaahling! Happy New Year!" A horribly ‘faux posh’ voice echoed from the porch. "Tom, Helen, how are you both, awww!" Felicity gushed, hugging her hosts and flashing air kisses that missed by miles. It was at that moment that the girl that was once Felicity Harbour changed….in a way Max hoped he would never see again. The transformation was devastating, dramatic and swift. In that moment, she had become the entity known as Flick. Max stood in the doorway and juggled the beer, a resigned but somehow desperate expression on his face. What had just happened? It was only seven pm and he already wished the night was over. As he walked into the predictably magnolia and laminate hallway he spared a thought for the lads in the King's Arms, drinking, celebrating, happy, and single. Happy New Year indeed. From inside, the stomach-churning soprano 'Walking in the Air' began to filter through into the hallway and he knew that with certainty it wouldn't be long before Cliff made an appearance too. Tom and Helen were pretty as boring as the house. Helen was slightly overweight and dowdy. Straight mousy hair framed a chubby face and she was dressed in a shapeless floral dress. Tom was the sort of guy you would want to beat savagely and, were it not for the fact that it would be something like kicking a puppy, you feared that you would. Sporting a pair of tortoise shell rimmed glasses and a drab loose knit sweater; he’d also adopted a magnificent eye twitch that Max found compelling. Tom would use words like 'cathartic' and 'holistic' a lot and pronounced the word beautiful as 'buuudafull’. Max ground his teeth together and tried to smile. "So Maximillian nice to finally meet you, how aaaare you? We heard you've been mentally ill is that right?" Tom said all in one breathe. Maximillian? Against his better judgement, he shifted the bitter into the crook of his arm and grasped Tom's limp, slightly damp hand, pumping it in greeting whilst brandishing a vaguely threatening fake grin. "No, no it was a week off work for compassionate reasons, some work rela-" "Super! Well, this is my wife Helen…" Tom cut in with a disarming smile and a sweep of his hand. Feeling more than very put out, Max braced himself as Helen approached him for a double air kiss and he was horrified to note a wispy, grey moustache lying in wait across her top lip. She smelled faintly of Yardley’s English Lavender, and that was no great surprise either. Helen also had this irritating habit of talking to you through either closed or wildly fluttering eyelids, it made him wonder whether half way through a conversation he could nip away and come back without being noticed. "Soooo gooooood to seeee yooooou," she whined. Tom and Helen invited them into an untidy living room and introduced them to the others: Jed and Hannah, Campbell and his friend Philip, and Camilla. "Guys, this is Maximillian, Flick's beau – he's recently been mentally ill," Tom was saying, nodding sagely, "So let’s hope he finds tonight's diverse social integration… cathartic." Max raised a hand in salute. "Well, I wasn't strictly ill, but hello." Something told him that the five pints of John Smith's he'd downed before meeting Flick and friends wouldn't be enough. He then noticed Jed was wearing sandals with Argyll socks and briefly flirted with the idea of running away – quickly. Dinner was a bland vegetarian affair that Helen had managed to become tearful over when she discovered that she had burned the crust of the leak and leak pie. The potatoes were more than slightly underdone and the onion gravy watery beyond compare, although the Swede and carrot mash was passable. She seemed heartened by the fact that her eye-watering, sugar-free rhubarb and gooseberry compote was edible, or at least that was the suggestion that everyone had given her by doggedly finishing their bowls. "I think I've just developed a stomach ulcer," Max whispered to Flick, who shushed him tetchily. "Matchmakers and coffee?" offered Tom, as if it was the height of sophistication. "I'll stick with the beer, thanks." Max pointed to his fast depleting stock. The group had barely managed to empty three bottles of predictably cheap wine over dinner. He cracked open another can and tried to get comfortable on the lumpy sofa. "So," Jed was saying, his legs crossed and his hands constructing a pyramid at his chest, "Hannah and I met Campbell whilst on sabbatical in Bratislava in 1999…" "Yea yea, Bratislava’s an awesome country”; Campbell interjected as if anyone was interested in his point. Max rolled his eyes, but thought again about speaking out, leaving the group to embarrass themselves. "Well, it's funny," Campbell continued in his soft, whiney Scottish accent and patted his 'friends' arm, "because Philip and I met during his gap year in Burundi." "Yes I was working with Médecins Sans Frontières as a volunteer nurse." Philip added with a self-satisfied smile. "Oh that's riiiight," gushed Helen. "I heard that you had done a lot of good work in the Third World." "I now do some volunteer work with special needs, but not as much as I'd like to" Philip continued, "in fact I'm a dedicated helper in the community for a great person called Ben Calloe." “Wonky Ben?" Max said. The front room fell silent. To look at their faces so aghast, one would have thought that he had just dropped his pants. "What? Wonky Ben, gammy leg, he comes in the pub." "He's got cerebral palsy, Max," Philip said with the measured patience of somebody trying to break some really bad news. "Yeah but you want to try and race lad, he's pretty quick after a few rum and cokes I can tell you." "You feed him alcohol?" Campbell seemed genuinely horrified. Max shrugged. "He's a bloke not a gerbil. Why shouldn’t he enjoy a drink or two, he’s still a person". He was vaguely aware of Flick tugging urgently at his sleeve. "What, you've never raced a drunken spazz?" "We don't refer to them as 'spastic' anymore." Hannah said gently. "Anyway…" Tom intervened. "Campbell, you were saying about Burundi…" Max's eyes darted incredulously from speaker to speaker, what irritated him more than the inane anecdotes of who met whom and during what Hutu uprising, was the fact that Camilla simply nodded in agreement to every statement and mmm-mmm'd her approval. This further cemented Max's theory that she had nothing to add to any conversation. Anywhere. Ever. Max sighed and cracked open another can. "So Maxi, did your faith helped you through your period of mental illness?" Tom said, some time later, turning his attention across the table. "Sorry, what?" Max jumped awake from the semi-doze he’d fallen into "Your faith, was it a crutch?" Helen asked. "I found that my faith brought me through my darker moments when I was diagnosed with uterine polyps." "Mmm, yah, polyps." Camilla nodded seriously, shooting Helen a tight lipped look of unswerving support and female camaraderie. "Er, no, I'm not a big church goer to be honest." Or at all, but he wasn’t going to admit that. "Awww." The group crooned in an 'oh you poor, silly, ignorant little man' fashion. He noted that Flick looked suitably embarrassed and could not help but feel a little crow of jubilation inside him. "You really should consider taking Christ into your life." Hannah said. "Mmm-mmm, yah. Christ our Lord." Camilla spouted and actually held up a hand in some sort of 'hey Jesus, here I am,' wave. Max drew a patient breath and forced a smile. "No, thanks all the same. I'm happy with my lot and it's not really for me, but cheers." "Don't worry; I'm sure you will regain your faith with Flick's help, she is such a strong woman." Helen sympathised. "You will find that it was the glory of the Lord that drew you out of your mental illness." "Oh, I'm not so sure!" Max replied smoothly. They all looked at him in earnest. "Yes Max… it was. They nodded as one. "Oh yes, Jesus loves you. He loves us all." Hannah intoned. This was getting a little creepy, and Max edged his way along the sofa. "Doesn't seem to love wonky Ben that much does he now," Max replied sourly. "Ah, don't worry, the Lord has His own plan for Ben. His physical illness is part of god’s plan, as was your mental illness." Max slammed his hand down on the nearby table causing everyone to jump and sending John Smiths tins scattering. Camilla stopped mmm-mmming all of a sudden and looked petrified. He stood up and stared at them all. "Look, I'm not mentally ill. I never have been; I had a week's leave of absence after some work related stresses and my mum dying. And before you say it, no, she's hasn't 'crossed over' or 'become spirit' or whatever it is you nut-jobs think and she's not 'in a better place'. She's in a box, in the ground, in Highgate cemetery. Oh and in case you were wondering, I don't want to join your blasted Christian polyp support group or whatever it is. I have been listening to you lot for the past four hours and you have yet to say anything remotely constructive or interesting!" "Maxi, I really don't think this is-" Campbell began to speak, looking pale. "It's Max you irritating Scottish poof!" "Wha-what?" Campbell and Philip both looked stunned, as if some great and unspoken secret had been splashed across the national news. "Oh come off it, people! If these two were any more mince they'd be a Chilli Con Carne." An awkward silence fell across the group, broken only by Philip, who began to weep quietly into his napkin. He glared at them for a few seconds longer before about turning and striding into the hallway. "Jesus Christ! No wonder they threw you lot to the lions!” The door slammed shut in his wake. "Peace be with you…" Tom murmured cheerlessly, smoothing his pullover.

#christians #writing #short story #funny #christian polyp support group #i wrote this back in 2008 and it still makes me giggle #donttakeitsoseriously

1 note · View note

uerisimilitvde · 7 years ago

Text

Also Into You (M)

rating: H for hixtape thirst-quenching pairing: hoseok x reader/you word count: almost 7k ao3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11963322

A heartbreak and your internal confusion; just the perfect combination of a problem your best friend can fix.

"Hey Hoseok, bring your girl space friend home, she's too drunk."

You managed to hear from your friend you recognized as the host of tonight’s booze night when you were trying to stop yourself from dozing off. Not that much, but you drank to your heart's content, enough for you to forget something you have to forget, just like what your friends suggested. Hence now, your head was thrown at the couch's seat, butt's numb from the cold floor and your legs wrap a leg of a black faux marble table where bottles stood empty and white plates lie, decorated with crumbs. Your friends' suggestion was indeed effective. Until someone so stupid just has to bring up that memory blurred by alcohol. "Yeah? Has she forgotten about crying already?" Hoseok spoke as he went near your side, and then nudging you arm. "Hey." He was startled when you snapped at him. It was his fault anyway for bringing it up, and you actually wanted him to physically feel the pain you were feeling in your heart but you were too drunk to have the needed force of your hand to slap him. "Hey," speaking now with much concern, or was it your hallucination, he straightened your back. "Do you wanna go home?" "I'm not yet drunk. And you should drink, you party pooper." You poked his cheek, but felt nothing when you thought you did. Right, you are too drunk to see him doubling now. "Let's go home~ let's go home~" Jaein whined while tugging your shirt from the side. "Yah~ We didn't tell you to drown yourself in vodka! Look at you! Lifeless drunk!" "Says the woman who almost stripped in front of a dog!" "Seriously? At least I have sobered up now!" "I've sobered up as well, I'm just resti - " Gross as it is, you felt your insides twitching and as much as you don't want to make a mess, you tried to stand up and walked slowly to the toilet with Hoseok and Jaein as your support, yelling hold it as if their lives depended on it. You didn't notice yourself tearing up as you emptied your poor stomach. Was it the pain of your twitching stomach or the stinging of your throat? It was most definitely worse than that, but you tried so hard to make the alcohol still make its wonder to your mind. To make you forget your one month short relationship with the woman of your yesterday's dreams. To diss yourself for crying about a bitch who only looked for a good makeout and became a complete jerk after a huge disappointment from your performance which she did not even open up to you nor give you lessons and advice. You felt a splash of cold water directed onto your face as a hearty chuckle was then heard just by a close inch from you ears. "Here, let me wash you up." "It's okay, I can - " "Just - " he pushed your hand back down and continued washing you up and even gargling some water he scooped with his hands. You are slowly slightly sobering up, and by then you felt his soft caress on your back. "Here's the towel. And a glass of water. Is she okay now?" You heard Jaein's voice from faint to clear. "Yeah, at least she didn't pass out - " And as if on cue, you did, caused by fatigue. Hoseok was quick enough to catch you by then after a squeal of shock from Jaein. "We should really go now."

Hoseok hesitantly dropped off Jaein by her house even if he asked her to come with him to send you to your apartment. He was completely nervous thinking how is he going to take care of you, change your dirty clothes to something comfy, if you have not waken up upon getting back to your home, and what else, that stupid plan of Namjoon. Jaein just laughed it out before entering their gates, unbelieved of what she just heard and then teasing him if he now sees you differently. Hoseok did not argue any farther with that, and just went to his mission of sending you home safe and sound.

If he is to be the most honest human, he really feels awkward right now if he were to undress and re-dress you of something else. Not that he haven't seen you on your bra; you are too liberated for his sake, though he was so used to it when he comes over for hangouts and stuff. But the you of tonight was someone else. He is seeing a new you; so fragile, so pained, so sorrowful - a three-sixty degree of what he knew of you as you. He laid your flushed body on your bed, careful not to hurt a muscle on you. His slow panting was the only sound heard around, and he can't help but to look at the blush on your cheeks, messy hair, and your dead eyes. Somehow, he became conscious of his gender and yours that he never even once bothered reminding himself of when you two are on bed watching movies or when you two are too huddled up to each other when hangout spaces are so skimpy. "Jung Hoseok, what's your problem now? You don't want your friend to sleep like a corpse when she always took care of you at times like this!" He told himself as he searched your dresser for a decent nightwear but it seemed like you haven't done your laundry yet. He looked further and saw the nightie he once gifted you for Kris Kringle as something dirty, a week after your coming out. It was of royal blue silk, and a length he never saw you donned. He smiled at the thought of you not even discarding this when you obviously never even once tried it since it was given almost a year ago. "Do you seriously want me to change... into that?" He jolted at your voice suddenly breaking his thoughts. "Yes... I mean you should change before your slumber at least! I'll find you another if you aren't comfortable with this." "It's fine. I've never wore it anyway; for a change, maybe? I will." You extended your arm as if waiting for him to throw it to you. "Are you okay now?" He said, and with your nod he continued. "Go take a shower. You reek of alcohol and vomit." "Ugh, alright." With his little help, you managed to get out of bed and go straight to the shower. "Uhm, Hoseok..." Hoseok hummed, letting you know he listens behind your closed bathroom door. You looked at your reflection in the mirror: you were ruined. Your eyes are dark and bagged; face so bare that you can't even remember your what your makeup looks like when you went out with your group of friends to party and mostly just get drunk at Namjoon's. Are you really letting this heartbreak affect you like this? Sure, it was kind of experimental but you loved her. She was your best friend. And, ironically, you had yourself confused since the day she taught you to walk lady-like - so far from your tomboyish style - when the class nominated you as the muse for the annual sports fest which originally was a tease about you but was then approved by the admin. Since then you fought with every speedy heartbeats when she is so close, her thighs touching yours, or when she looks at you directly in the eyes when she is asking for favors. Until the cold winter nights bothered you, thinking about her more frequent than how you think of your daily routine, blushing when memories of her hugging you and holding your hand came to mind. By then, you were still confused, but definitely this particular girl attracted you more than any man before, and soon you found yourself confessing to your friends about your situation when you can’t seem to hold onto your pretense any longer. And after seeing your reflection now, you became even more confused of yourself - of your sexuality. “...Do you think you can spare the night?” “Do you want me to stay?” You fiddled with your fingers as tears again formed blurred your sight. “Well, I’m thinking… I need someone to talk to.” You waited for him to respond and you nervously continued when it became silent at the other side of the door, sensing he might want to go home right away for it is already early morning of yesterday’s tomorrow. “I-It’s just for the night! Maybe you can go after we talk. Or maybe we can talk some other time?” “Sure.” You sighed at his comforting voice. “We can talk all day about it if that’s how I can be of help.” Sometimes you actually wondered why does your bestfriend have no lover when he is this caring and sweet. Admirers, he had them - lots. But he never spoke of any name he might have found pretty or sexy or attractive, nor ask for some of your advice if you came to know this particular person. It once actually popped in your mind that he might be gay like you, or maybe asexual because he never once reacted when he saw you on your underwear once, but you respected him as much as he respected your coming out so you never said a word about your speculations on him. You went out of the shower wearing the silk nightwear and for once you felt aware. Never in your life you wore a dress in such length, straps so thin, and neckline outlining your breasts, and you reminded yourself not to look Hoseok in the eye yet, afraid that he might be looking at you in awe or perhaps disgusted at the sight. “Do you wanna take a shower?” You walked to your vanity table, eyes straight into the mirror as you made your way. You took out your hair dryer and told him that you only have in your dresser his once new dark grey sweatpants you borrowed from him before and never returned because you liked it for yourself - and he laughed at that confession, not even remembering that he had such pants. It was his reflection walking to the bathroom that made you start distracting your mind with the noise from the dryer. Self, are you okay? - You asked yourself, aware of your nervous breathing you don’t even know where it came from. Why am I suddenly so nervous? You increased the power of the dryer and let yourself be absorbed by the annoying noise as you slowed down the pace of your breaths. Hair still damp yet dry enough to not drip, you set aside the machine and propped into your bed not without taking out the sweatpants from your dresser, placing it on the floor by the bathroom so he can change to it without exposing his naked body on you. Not that you mind; you never did actually. You have seen him shirtless and you weren’t bothered by it, but it is not to be ignored that he has a built that can make girls drool, given that he is one of the best dancers in school. Your thoughts made you cover yourself up to head with your blanket. Ugh, what really am I? Soon, you heard your bathroom door creaking joined then by his hearty chuckle. “Are you sleeping on me now? Oh - ah this pants! So this was in here all along?” “Just wear it already.” “Alright...done.” He said as you heard a popping sound of the garters to his skin. Finally, you let yourself breath some nice air, releasing your head from your blanket cocoon. His weight created waves on your bed as he laid himself beside you, back resting on a pillow against the headboard. “So... let it all out.” You didn’t break your stare off the ceiling, starting your verbal novel with a sigh. From the very start of your confusion back then, to you confessing to her, to you asking your ex-girlfriend out, and to every details after, you mapped them in your mind and shared to him. He listened, careful not to miss a thing out when he is completely distracted by the smell of your soap on him, and your shampoo lingering at his side. It was a tough job but he did it as good as how he always does when you were around him. “...I thought… I thought maybe because I liked her, I could make her feel good. But when I tried, when we tried, I can’t seem to find it… enjoyable? Pleasing?” “Mhhm,” He hummed when you paused for a moment. “What have you felt then?” “I don’t know. Uh… Awkward? Yeah, I felt awkward while we do it and kind of... disgusted after that - I don’t know really! I felt like we don’t have a sexual connection or something” You covered your face with your both hands. “Part of me says I like her yet part of me says I didn’t want to do it.” For a while, there was a calming silence. A silence you have craved for your brain to feel at ease. “I think I know what your problem is.” You snapped your head to his direction, angling up a bit to look into his eyes that met yours when he looked down at you. “Maybe you are straight after all.” Your stomach curled at that, causing some ticklish feeling inside. Straight? Me? I don’t think so. “After I felt some attraction with a girl, I am straight?” “Well, that was one girl. Have you even felt that way to any girls? Most girls?” “Hmm, I’m kind of a loyal person.” “I don’t mean like that!” He was sitting straight by now, arms flexed as he tried to balance himself on the soft mattress. “I mean it’s possible to have a girl crush! You can’t just say you’re a lesbian if you’re attracted to your same sex. Ah I knew it since you came out.” “Know what?” “You came out when you were still confused, and all because you were confused. Didn’t we ask you that? That you might just be confused but you were so stubborn, but we still respected you.” “I don’t get it. Why did she even make me confused if I’m straight then?” “That could have happened because you two are always... together…?” “Then what about us? We are always together and - “ You stopped halfway on what you were saying as you even more became aware - of yourself, of him with his bare half just few inches away from you, his sweatpants touching your bare shoulders. The room fell silent yet again when both of you couldn’t think of what to say as defense on what you were saying. All the images of you being together then flashed in your mind; all your teasings, all your ticklings, all your phonecalls at night, all the times he slept on your shoulders or you on his lap, all the times he carried you on his back or you by his arm when he is drunk. You two have always been by each other’s side since middle school and became much closer in your first year of college, especially when you came out, wherein you two stayed at each others apartments sometimes when you feel like it not even caring on what the other looks like. You two were almost teased by your friends inside and outside of the group since then, but you being known as the pretty one who is always in tomboy style since elementary and him having a reputation of no girls til I turn 18, teases always die down before it even reached your ears. Both of you are always comfortable around each other to the extent of forgetting the fact that you are actually not in the same sex as him, nor him as you. You felt neutral whenever you are with him like how you see him and your friends, but it never crossed your mind how he actually felt when he saw you almost naked when he made a surprise visit or when your hands accidentally brush each other or when your cheeks are almost an inch away when studying together. You blinked multiple times as you looked down at your wriggling feet under your blanket gathering all your thoughts and reserved speeches for when awkward moments arise. Some tension is obviously just standing around the corner waiting to be lifted but none of you seemed strong enough to, until he tried to. “Actually…” he breathed out as heavy as the tension he is trying to lift and push away. “I want to ask you that…” You looked at his eyes, a decision you regretted the most as of now, seeing it as dark as his hair and as deep as his voice. “W-what?”

There was a lump in his throat but he fought with it with all his might. “Don’t you feel anything when you’re with me?” A gasped managed to escape silently as your eyes seemed to bulge out of your head just like how your heart seemed to love the idea of escaping out of your chest. Much more when he dipped his head closer to yours when you didn’t say anything, his hands on both sides of your head, and then getting the chance of pressing his lips on yours. It was so sudden, though you somehow felt it was coming. It was a pure and chaste kiss - a peck actually - that lasted for about a millisecond but it didn’t fail to make your heart to skip a beat. “How about now?” he stayed in that position, eyes glued on yours and a hand travelling from your forehead to your cheek. His lips slowly formed a soft smile when he noticed the slight blush tinting your cheeks. You cursed the novel feeling inside your heart. What is this? I shouldn’t be feeling this! And newsflash, he is your bestfriend, much like what your ex-girlfriend was. You tried your hardest to fight the urge to feel his lips on yours once again, thinking a lesbian should find it nonchalant to kiss a boy, but you find it to be something else. You wanted it again, and this time longer and deeper. His face tells you he is getting worried upon your unresponsive attitude that you might just kick him out of the house for kissing you but it all faded when you rose from lying, discarding the heavy sheet resting on your body and then holding his neck. You looked into his eyes now darker as ever as you both exchanged breaths. “I don’t know what this is, but it is what I feel right now.” And without waiting any reaction from him, you took his lips for yourself and kissed him as it was your favorite thing to do. The kiss was not as pure as the first, just perfect how you wanted it to be. It was of plain desire - as bad as if it was forbidden. You kissed him thirstily and he kissed you back hungrily, eating your mouth as if he was a predator and you were the only prey left. His hands, which you did not even notice taking a hold on you, travelled from your hips to your waist pulling you closer to him as you continue the thing with your tongue to his that makes him moan - a sound you love hearing and a feeling in your mouth you can’t seem to get sick of. None of you even has an idea of breaking the kiss for a breath of oxygen; only but an idea of having it better. You wasted no time putting your weight on him, straddling him with your legs and let him rest his back comfortably against the headboard; by then, a moan you two can’t help but let out made you break the kiss when you felt his hard rock under you and him feeling your heat on his clothed erection. How difficult was it for him to restrict himself not to tear both your clothes off right then and there but he is letting you take your time as if helping you on knowing and discovering yourself better. You rested your forehead against his as your instincts whispers you an idea of rocking your hips against his with a devilish smirk he can even see through his eyes shut hard, and so you did with a bite of your lower lip. He let out a guttural moan, showing you his neck upon throwing his head back, allowing you to lean comfortably to his shoulder as you continued to work him up. His grip on your waist tightened, controlling your pace and increasing your weight on him. Everything was new to you, and you were moving like you are being manipulated by a hedonistic parasite in your brain. You were… enjoying it somehow, feeling the pool of heat already soaking, almost dripping out of, your underwear as your breath hitches when he did too. Him moaning your name was something you’ve never thought of, not like you were actually thinking of fucking him. You never did, you never found him sensually attractive. There was one time though, but that was that, just once. It was when you were both drunk once, and he was being the guy who was a total opposite of him, speaking the language of debauchery mixed with humour. It was the alcohol probably that time. But this time, it is just you finding him so erotic. “H-Hoseok… I…” “Are you close, babe?” His groan-filled voice, even calling you babe, furthermore increased the turning of your stomach. You nodded fast, not even caring if you looked like the virgin of all virgins for cumming just by grinding. “Let loose, baby. Come for me.” It wasn’t him to talk this way, but you are sure he didn’t drink enough last night to be drunk like last time. And with that thought, you almost screamed his name but you chose to bite your lips with only a whimper loud enough for only Hoseok to hear, embarrassed. You panted your hot breaths onto his neck as you rode your high, but you were completely astounded as to why he is still rock hard. Even though you feel a little shy, you tried to look at him and he was actually waiting for you to do so. With a smile yet still hooded eyes, he cupped your cheeks with him still breathing hard, legs writhing as he tries to stop himself from cumming. He need no words from you to tell him you wanted more of him, so he plunged his lips to yours once again, this time flipping you over to your back as he hovered over you. He was as careful as how he laid you on this bed earlier when you were in slumber, controlling his strength not to hurt a single muscle. For a while of tongue-wrestling - so deep and sounds oh so wet - you broke off from the kiss as you gasped for air as lying down does not really help your lungs in creating more oxygen when he takes all of it from you. With your hands on his chest, you looked up at his dark orbs that reflected your own desire. “I want you.” “I do too.” He knew it, he was just waiting for you to say it. “I’ve always did.” That was his signal to devour your mouth in his, discarding your nightwear, sliding it up like it was butter on your skin. He wasted zero seconds in kissing you down to your jaws, then neck, trying to find that spot; which he knew he succeeded when you moaned out his name, all the while massaging your clothed breast. Oh how he hated your bra having three locks, he almost lost his patience - almost biting your collarbone skin off - when at last he did and conquered your nipples standing erect with his hot, dirty little mouth. You let out a gasp as your back arched, wanting him to have all of you in his mouth. His soft hair entangles with your fingers as you take hold of him, unconsciously pulling his hair when he did some magic in pleasing the heck out of you with his sucks and playful tongue. He then went on to the other mount, pleasing it equally as how he did to the other. It was no news that you are dripping again, like a goddamn full dam having to let out volumes of water. He went on kissing, licking, and sucking your skin down to your abdomen and further down to where attention is most needed. Your toes curl at the contact of his hot breath to your clothed sex, and soon you felt him cupping your mound with his mouth. “A-Ahhh… Ju-Jung... H-Hoseok…” You don’t even care on your crumpled sheets now, now that you feel the utmost pleasure you’ve never felt in your nineteen years of living. At the sound of his name coming from the loudest moan you’ve ever let out the entire time, he groaned through your heat, wondering how much sweeter would it sound when he eats you out, even more when he fucks you deep. “I’ve been wanting to hear that from you.” He teasingly pulls off your panty slowly caressing your legs as he did. “These legs are perfect. I felt so lucky I might be the first one to see them.” You chuckled at his sudden compliment. How can he be so evil yet an angel at the same time? “Wow baby, you’re glistening,” he whispers of lustful breath onto your damp mound. “Look at me. Look at me as I taste and eat you out baby.” Even though you can’t bear to even open your eyes, you did as told when it was just his excuse to see your face scrunching because of his mouth. With just the softest touch of his tongue you were already sending your eyes back to roll inside, but he was quick to grab your hand to remind you of what he said, eventually interlacing fingers with yours. You looked at his eyes directly and you swore you can’t see your bestfriend’s soul in this sex god of a creature lapping your juices. He was looking back at you, dead eyes, not even blinking, and his moans all the more bringing out your arousal. “Oh baby, you are so wet for me.” His tongue went to rubbing your clit, making you curse in all the language you have learned and not long enough he was rubbing your labia with his finger, eventually inserting it to your hot, dripping entrance. You almost choke, and you concluded you can’t handle looking at his evil eyes who never left yours anymore. Your head fell onto the bed, in sync with the arching of your back, letting out another loud moan, now sexier than the previous ones. His fingers tremble at that, but he wanted it unknown, making him torture your poor bud to make his suffering unnoticed. “You like it, babe?” You moaned a yes, “So, so much… you are so good Hoseok…” and as a reward for your compliment, he added another finger, ramming to you unstably, while trying so hard to keep himself from cumming - saving it to see you showered with loads of it. Faster - you said through bitten, already swollen lips to which he obeyed. He was sweating so hard, but he never let it get in the way of seeing your face contort in pleasure, even if some slide down to his face or his eyes. He himself can’t help but to pant, feeling his own cum on the verge of release, and it was your continuous moaning and hip thrusting on his hand that made him so close. “Ahh, I can’t hold it anymore,” he said almost inaudible with his guttural sounds, as he stood on the bed on his knees, releasing his sex to freedom from the restraints of the sweatpants. As much as you were disappointed at the sudden absence of his mouth when you were just as close as he is, you found it exciting seeing him pump himself right in front of you, his tip looking like the most delicious strawberry with a subtle pint of cream on top. “Baby, touch yourself for me…?” His voice almost air, and without further ado, you did the honors to yourself. Both of you were chasing breaths, as you look into each other’s eyes as you two worked yourselves up. There’s no point in denying that it was the second image of him that appealed erotic to you, next to him speaking of vulgarity. “I’m cumming…” you two chorused with moans as your background music. It took not much of a while, reaching the bridge part - the climax - and for the second time tonight, you had your release, now at the same time with his. You felt some warm liquid shooting to your navel, to your breasts, and some spurts right on your parted lips. Eyes still shut, you tasted him, running your tongue on your lips. “You are so fucking hot.” Words you’ve never heard directed to you just escaped his mouth. You smiled faintly at that, a bit sad that it just ended right there. Or that was what you thought, until you heard a sound of a cloth being thrown across the room. You jolted at the sudden contact of his tongue on your navel, tasting himself as he journeyed up towards your breasts and to your neck, again claiming your favorite spot, while his hand found yours to hold and interlace with. All these actions never seemed to cease making you hot and damp, and now much wetter. This time was a bit more passionate; he was kissing and licking you painfully slow as he goes back to your sucking your breasts, making you hiss when his teeth accidentally, or not, grazed on your flesh. “H-Hoseok… wait,” out of the blue, you told him. “I think you’ve done your job.” You pulled him up, reaching for his lips as you kiss it passionately. “It’s my turn.” He swore his lip skin may tore off after hearing how you became dominant, and was even more aroused when you strongly pushed him to the side, claiming the top. You started a heated kiss once again, tongue already fighting when it began, as you began working him up with your damp heat rubbing his shaft - skin to skin - feeling it twitch just underneath you. He was almost groping you like he never wanted to let you go any moment now, or maybe forever. You were doing so good in working him up and god his moans louder than yours are music to your ears. You don’t even care how he bites your lips so hard, as long as you feel him shiver because of you, it was enough. Obviously, he never had sex before as much as you do seeing him writhe and become so weak by the contact of your soft and hot labia on his growing erect, and his moans so muffled and all guttural, so deep yet loud. Your wet kisses travelled from his mouth, to his neck, to his toned abs, and while doing so, you didn’t miss the chance to slide your body against his shaft as you go down. You heard him hissed as your hand finally takes a hold of him. “Tighter,” he says, his hand over yours, adjusting it to his tightness and speed preference, and for future reference. You gasped at his size in your grip. He is unexpectedly this big and long? You haven’t imagined it for yourself, but one time - or was that twice - you had to see its shape when he was lying down in the dance studio after some tiring rehearsal, arms and legs sprawled away from his body. Just with the thought of him inside you had you moaning his name and you just had to hide it by licking his building precum on the tip. You had him even weaker as you continued sliding up and down with the help of some of your juices, and your mouth taking over. His legs tensed up, be he was still mindful enough not to press your head between his thighs. “You feel so good - mhhmhm.” “And you taste even better.” You were so wanting him. You were so hungry of him that you just sucked him off as fast as you can and as tight as your mouth can handle and it made him almost scream, nevertheless bucking his hips into your mouth. “How are you so good at this? Fuck…” His moans was definitely a sin, tempting you to pleasure yourself but he was quick to tell you he got other plans. A much better plan. “Let me take care of you, baby.” And as if he was in a hurry, he turned both of you over, him taking the top spot yet again. “Are you ready babe?” He pampered your skin with kisses, and from the vibration of your throat and your legs already wrapping his waist, he already knew your answer. “Uh-uh. Not without some protection.” He smirks at you as he gets something from under your pillow. “What the - ? Hey, I don’t buy condoms!” He chuckled at your cute reaction. “It’s mine. I slid it under earlier,” and wore the condom himself like he was an expert of it. “Did you plan all of this?” “Nope,” he whispers as lies on top of you, angling himself to your entrance. “Namjoon did.” That devilish smirk was enough for him to start his momentum of conquering your mouth with his, and your sex with his. As much as you wanted the kiss not to break, you were both betrayed by your gasps and moans. “Oh fuck, you’re so tight.” He wasn’t even halfway but your eyes are already shut, fingernails already digging crescent moons on his back while the other hand is pulling his hair. “Fuck, Hoseok…” and you didn’t even realized you were holding your breath when he finally have settled inside and you were both panting. “Oh my god… ahh…. oh dear… ahhhh.” “Babe, ugh. You… Fit me perfectly…” he kissed your lips as chaste as his first, cupping your cheeks. “How do you want it baby?” “I don’t know. Just… just do something.” You spoke as if your manners left you. “Just tell me if it hurts and I’ll stop, alright babe?” “No. Please. Wait until we cum. Don’t even stop if I tell you to.” “As you say so, love.” Was it the new nickname or was it him coming out slowly and rummaging fastly that sent you to bliss? You don’t even care thinking about it after a few seconds as he makes you feel good - feel best - with his strong thrusts as expected from a dancer with powerful thighs. It took you some time to adjust to his tempo and his force and now you were matching his rhythm as you buck your hips meeting his. He loved it, sure enough, told by his heavier moans, dirty language which he surprisingly can let out in a situation that takes most oxygen out of his lungs and voice stolen by his moans, and his endearing kiss that lasted not long enough for him to catch a huge breath. He just wanted for you to feel the utmost pleasure that Namjoon indeed told him about. The pleasure that might show you the real you - of what you truly are - so you can get rid of your heartbreak and confusion. And you. You wanted to feel more of him as if his strong, speedy thrusts aren’t enough yet so you clenched around him. “I-I’ll fucking stop if you do that again I’m not kidding.” He says, travelling down his mouth to your neck. Unending series of moans and the sticky smell of lust surrounded your room as he fastens his pace even more, almost making your bed creak. He can’t get enough of how good he feels in you, of how nice and warm you around him, but even more it was the friction that keeps his libido stronger than his own body and mind combined. You felt his hot breath increase in speed as well; his mouth became steady against your ears, obviously diverting all his focus on slapping of your fleshes. “Hoseok… uhhhh…. I’m…. I’m close…” Your moans almost ate your words as you felt your core tighten for the third time now. “Harder… please…” Obedient as he always is, he did so, matching every strong thrust with a loud moan. Surely, your neighbors might have been mad by now, or maybe they were enjoying as well, remembering they were your age. With that kinky thought of having heard, you spilled your hot mess with him still inside you, letting your neighbors know who made you feel good at four am in the morning. “God… Hoseok… that was… the amaz - “ “We’re not… done yet… I haven’t… cum…” The mood changed all of a sudden, when you thought you were just riding out your high, he too seemed to slowed down his pace, kissing you as passionate as he can. How can he fuck so good and the suddenly turn it into something so passionate, so sweet yet so pure. It seemed as if he was making love to you, and you reciprocated the feeling to him, which he truly deserves. “Shit, I don’t want this to end.” He said as he rested his forehead against yours, sweat blending in with yours. “I don’t want us to end after this.” Confused of his sudden change in tone, you looked at him, yours still meeting his pelvis with passion. “What do you mean?” The three words he’s been wanting to tell you since he doesn’t even remember when can’t just slip from his tongue even if people would mock his cowardice. “Well… unless you realize… that I am not just a friend who you had sex with and… think not of this as experimental - a one-night thing.” He moaned at the sudden flick of his pelvis. “You mean you want this to happen again?” You said with a chuckle. “Hmm… If you finally find out the answer you’ve been looking for, then...” You smiled at him, cupping his cheeks and placing another chaste kiss on his lips. “Well, what do you think?” You tried rolling your hips in circular way making his hand so weak in your hold. “I just came three times. Won’t that already tell you something?” “What something?” His pace was gradually increasing making you pause for a moment before continuing on what you were saying. “That maybe I’m also into guys.” You smiled as you lift up his hand you were holding, and placing it on the left side of your chest. “...that maybe I’m also into you.” He bit his lips at your words with a smile as wide as an upside down rainbow but what made him moan is the fact that your heart beats as fast as how his does. He surrendered all his might, slamming onto you as hard and fast as he can to make himself cum and later on just spend the night with you, showing instead of saying how much he really felt for you, hoping for the next day, the sun would shine as bright to give him a chance to tell you the three words he still keeps in his mind, not breaking the promise to himself of saying it to that only girl he truly dears with his whole heart You.

#bts #bangtan #beyond the scene #jhope #jung hoseok #hoseok #hobi #jhope smut #bts smut #bts scenario #jhope scenario #R:drabbles

49 notes · View notes

mirkwoodshewolf · 8 years ago

Text

Still my star sweeper; Loki x teen reader

This request came from the idea of one of my wattpad requestors but also by wattpad’s popular demand of my first ever child/teen comfort oneshot they wanted or asked if I was going to do a part 2 so this ended up being born and counts as a sequel to the Star sweeper oneshot. I hope you all enjoy it as much as the first part :) Be warned of intense arguments, maybe some swearing but it all works out in fluff in the end.

Taglist:

@evyiione

__________________________________________________

I had put my books back into my locker just as the last bell was ringing signaling that school was out for the whole summer. Yaaasss! I have been waiting for this moment since the beginning of the school year.

“Hey (y/n)!” I heard my bffl (bffl/n) call out to me. I ran towards her as well as the rest of my merry crew and bffl said as we all walked out towards the front of the school.

“Are you just as psyched as I am for this summer?”

“Uhh yeah pretty much born psyched”.

“Okay so we got everything pretty much all planned out”. They said.

“Sweet oh hey (m/bff/n) did your dad say it was alright to bring the van to the lake house my Uncle Tony is letting us stay in?”

“Yeah so long as my dad doesn’t find any alcohol or beer cans he said we can use it” he said.

“Awesome, okay so when we get there first thing we’ll do is—” Suddenly I was knocked down by a flash of black fur and felt a wet tongue lick my face frantically. “What the—hey stop it! Stop it! Get off of me you mangy—” I stopped when I got a good look at this wolf-dog’s eyes. Green eyes. Oh shit.

“Whoa I knew you loved animals (n/n) but this is a new one” (2bff/n) said.

“Yeah well what can I say, I just love animals!” I sneered through my teeth as I pushed the ‘dog’ off of me and tightly gripped him by the neck. “Okay umm….I will text you guys the details of the lake house by tonight and then we will head out when I say”. We soon parted ways and I made sure to keep a normal yet tight grip on the dog that was happily walking by my side. Then I rushed into an abandoned alleyway and looked around till the coast was clear before snapping at him.

“Why must you do that everytime you come to my school?” The wolf-dog soon shined a bright green light as it transformed back into its God form, yeah that’s right my uncle Loki.

“Now is that anyway to treat your favorite uncle my little Star Sweeper?” I groaned at the nickname. Ever since I was born, my uncle always referred to me as his “Little Star Sweeper”. At first it was cute when I was like 5 but I’m 17 now, I’m not a little girl anymore so why must he always call me that.

“Uncle Loki, you know how I feel about that name now, so could you please stop treating me like I’m 5 years old?”

“But you’ll always be my Star Sweeper, no matter how old you are” he then brought me into his chest smothering me.

“Geez, you’re worse than dad and Uncle Tony combined, now can we please get out of here before someone sees us”.

“Leave that to me”. Soon we were back in the tower and I immediately forced myself from my uncle’s embrace and took out my phone and began a group chat about our lake house getaway before we become seniors and maybe even plan another trip after graduation next year before we all head out into the world as adults. “Umm (y/n), do you mind putting the phone for one second and at least give me a proper hello”. I looked up seeing Uncle Loki having his arms open for a hello hug.

“Hello and goodbye” I then used my magic to teleport from the living room to my bedroom and made sure to put a protective seal by my door, windows and vents to make sure Uncle Loki didn’t come in.

Now don’t get me wrong I still love him but he just hovers over me like an annoying bug sometimes, I swear if I didn’t know any better I’d say he was my father and not my father Thor, at least he gives me some independence.

As I continued to chat with my groupie throughout the rest of the week and pack for our lake house getaway, Uncle Loki had been constantly persistent in wanting to know what was going on but I made sure to attack back with sassy remarks or use my magic to just disappear.

“Okay so we’ll leave in three days and make sure to bring your swimwear, uhh hell yeah I’m bringing the (f/c) one. Makes me feel like a sext badass warrior. Okay (bffl/n) yeah I’ll see you then. I know I’m psyched too, okay dude, see yah bye~” I hung up the phone and set it down as I took out my (f/c) bathing suit.

I’ll have to give thanks to Aunt Nat, big sister Wanda and Aunt Sif for the training, without their help I would’ve never been able to fit into this sexy thing. I playfully modeled in front of my mirror when my closet door came shooting outwards and my uncle jumped out saying.

“What the Hel is this!?”

“God damn it haven’t you ever heard of privacy!?”

“That’s not important the real question is what do you think you’re doing with that!?” He pointed at my bathing suit and I said.

“Would you calm down Uncle Loki it’s just a bathing suit, all of my friends are bringing ones just like these”.

“Over my dead body will my little Star be walking out of this tower dressed like that!”

“Did you really just say that? Oh my God you really just said that didn’t you!?” I walked out of my room with Uncle Loki tailing right behind me.

“Hold it right there young lady we are not done yet!”

“Well I’m done with you!” I cried out.

“You better change that tone of yours right now missy, as long as I’m here and your father isn’t, I am in charge and my responsibility”.

“Well I wish father was here instead of you”. I muttered.

“What was that you said?” He sneered.

“What you didn’t hear me? I said I wish father was here instead of you!”

“Alright, you leave me no choice, you are grounded and you’re not going on the trip of yours either”.

“WHAT!? This is so unfair!!”

“Unfair?”

“Yes! You walk around telling what to do, what not to do, treating me like you’re my father well—you’re not my father! I am the daughter of Thor Odinson and Jane Foster. You’re are nothing but a selfish, coldhearted, silver tongue, BEAST!” SLAP!!

I suddenly found myself on the ground and pain started forming on my right cheek. Silence pierced the air as I slowly turned and looked up to see my uncle Loki with his hand raised and a venomous look in his eyes.

“Loki!” my father’s voice cried out. Loki turned to see all the Avengers standing there in shock and anger at what they had just seen, when he looked to me his eyes suddenly turned into pure horror.

“Oh Gods, (y/n) I—I didn’t mean to I—” tears filled my eyes and I used my magic to disappear back into my room, locking all entry ways in and sobbed into my pillows.

Even with every fight we’ve had, every disagreement, not once, not once has Loki ever hit me. Even fights that were this big he never once raised his hand to hurt me. I continued to cry until I cried myself to sleep.

I didn’t come out. I couldn’t, I just couldn’t look my family in the eye after what had happened yesterday nor could I face Uncle Loki again. I had used my healing abilities to heal the bruise that had formed overnight but the emotional pain I couldn’t heal.

Pietro and Wanda came downstairs with solemn looks on their faces.

“Any luck?” asked Bruce.

“No she still von’t come out” said Wanda.

“Poor kid” stated Tony solemnly.

“I even offered my chocolate stash as a reward but even zhat didn’t do anything” said Pietro. The twins sat down by the bar beside Tony, Bruce and Nat. Thor then came in and Steve asked him.

“Still not talking?”

“Afraid not, through everything my brother has done I’ve never seen him this far gone”.

“Well he should feel guilty after what he did to (n/n) he’s lucky that I didn’t have a gun in my hands when we came back from our mission” Bucky snapped.

“Easy Buck” stated Steve.

“No, no Cap he’s right, Loki should pay for what he did to (n/n), I get first crack at him though first”.

“My friends please, now I know you are still sore even now about my brother, but you must remember that ever since she was born, Loki has always loved (y/n) so much, even with all the fights and the bickering that happened after she became a young woman. Let me try to convince my brother to at least apologize to her, maybe that’ll soften the relationship between the two of them”.

“That is true. I have heard from young (y/n)’s mind that if an apology was made between her and Mr. Laufeyson then she could come out from her room” stated Vision.

“Vis, we talked about this” Wanda stated softly.

“The Vision is right, I will talk to Loki and if I have to I’ll force him out of his room and into (y/n)’s until they both work it out together”. Thor then left his friends and went back to his brother’s room.

Thor entered inside only to see Loki in the same place as he always has been, in the corner of his room, furniture turned over and his physical appearance pale and sorrow-filled.

“Loki, if you do not fix your crime against my daughter I will have no choice but to use force on both of you until you both work out an apology together”. Loki remained silent until he finally stated.

“Did you see the way she—looked at me?” Loki looked up at Thor with red eyes that were still gleaming with tears. “I never wanted her hurt, but it won’t matter now. She was right. I am truly nothing, but a beast”.

“No brother, my daughter was just mad, she loves you and is equally heartbroken as you are right now. You cannot let what she said get to you, fix your mistake and put it right. If you let this continue on, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life”. With that being said, Loki knew what he had to do, he didn’t believe that it would work nor did he think he deserved forgiveness but he just had to at least tell his precious star sweeper how sorry he really was.

Loki then came to my bedroom door all alone and just stood there hesitant to knock on my door until finally he did.

‘Go away’ I said.

‘(Y/n), it’s me darling’. I heard Uncle Loki’s voice from the other side of my door.

“What do you want?” I snapped.

‘Darling, I—I know what I did was unforgivable, I should never have taken my anger out on you and hit you the way I did. I—I just want you to know that I am truly sorry. And I don’t mean to say this just to get it out of the way I really, truly mean it. What I did to you—it was beyond unspeakable and I understand if you’ll never want to even look at me again, and that if there was anything I could’ve done to stop myself from hitting you I would’ve done it. And for that I am sorry my dear, I’m so, so sorry’. I remained silent for a while hearing his heartbreaking confession.

I walked up to my door and opened it after letting down the barrier spell and said.

“Can you say that again this time to my face?” I smiled softly at my hidden sassy remark as Uncle Loki turned around and smiled back at me. I let him in my room and we both sat down on the bed together.

“I meant every word I said (y/n), I may be known as the God of Lies but all that I’ve just said was far from a lie”.

“I know, but I’m just as guilty. I shouldn’t have said any of those things, after all that you’ve told me about your past I only just made it worse by calling you all those cruel things”.

“No, no darling I honestly deserved it. Look,” he tilted my chin to face him eye to eye as he brought me close to him. “Ever since you were born, at first I thought I’d be dealing with a shrewd child, but the second I looked down at you, you had lighten my cold, dark world and I wanted nothing more than to make sure you kept that light. As you grew older I still couldn’t help but see that tiny little baby I first looked down upon, but by doing just that, I blinded myself to the reality that was right before my eyes, my little star sweep—my niece was growing up all too fast. One moment I was holding her close that she was buried in my armor, then in just a blink of an eye, she’s all grown up almost ready to graduate from school, enter SHIELD as an agent and become a member of the Avengers. So grown up in fact that she doesn’t need her pestering uncle hovering over her anymore”.

“Oh Uncle Loki,” I wiped away a hidden tear that had fallen from his face before saying. “Just because I’m growing up, doesn’t mean that I’ll never need you. Sure you hover but I know that just means you care, though could you do it a little less?” At that statement the two of us laughed softly together. “I’m sorry for saying all those cruel things to you”.

“And I’m sorry for hitting you, are we okay now?”

“Yeah, we’re cool”. We both smiled at each other then I said.

“Uncle Loki?”

“Yes (y/n)?”

“Will you—will you call me Star Sweeper again?” At that moment I had never seen my uncle smile so big in all my life as he embraced me tightly while saying.

“I’d never thought you’d never ask. I love you my little Star Sweeper”.

“I love you too Uncle Loki” I said as I hugged him back nuzzling into his chest while he rocked me back and forth kissing the top of my head repeatedly.

#loki laufeyson #loki x teen reader #uncle!loki #loki fandom #loki fanfiction #fluff #family #avengers fanfiction

232 notes · View notes

possibilistfanfiction · 8 years ago

Note

hey jude!!! just read ur last anon abt being nb and wondered if u could talk abt ur own gender experience?

well basically i didnt grow up in a very open household, like rly Zero discussion of gender, so i know i Experienced gender entirely but i played almost exclusively with the boys in my class until probably grade 6 or 7, & at puberty, even tho i was a better athlete than most boys in my class still, i started hanging out with girls more, at recess, etc. i was always into androgyny, even if i had no idea (& i didn’t) what that was—i liked some femme things, absolutely, but i wanted nothing to do w skirts or pretty shoes. i wanted to be in adidas running sneakers 24/7 if i could help it, & i wore a uniform to school w the option of a skirt/pants, & im p sure i always wore pants. at the time this, to me, seemed more functional, & it was, but it was also, as i can understand now, something that made me feel Less like a girl, although not at all like a boy.

when i was older, 12, 13, 14, my parents wanted me to dress nicer, & i was v much into like american eagle shit, although by mid hs i was into some vintage stuff. one rly big odd style influence for me was mia wasikowksa in this weird movie called restless bc it was this v soft femme androgyny & i think for me this kind of gender expression became very important to see & understand. it wasn’t that she didn’t look like a girl, or that she wasn’t a girl, but she also sometimes looked like a boy, or wore boys clothes, but she wasn’t butch. idk this movie sent me for a loop honestly lol.

& obviously my understanding of gender expression didn’t correlate (& doesn’t correlate!) w so many gender identities, & “passing” is extremely harmful as a notion, etc. but when i was younger my understanding of gender & sexuality was very limited & began to expand when i saw very femme but still andro ppl, even tho i couldn’t articulate it at the time.

when i was a teenager i knew i didnt want to rly have a single thing to do w any boy, which made me sure i was a lesbian bc thats the only narrative i’d rly known abt queerness, or queer women, or even queer ppl who presented as femme. there werent any out lesbians at my school (no fucking way), & the only out queer kid at all was a white gay guy a year older than me, who was popular in the way white gay boys can be popular in high school. but i read voraciously, was fascinated by the crossdressing in shakespeare (paris in the merchant of venice was a particular fixation of mine?) & anyway. i knew i was queer, i knew i liked girls, & i knew i was outrageously uncomfortable w my body, particularly my breasts. for a long time i thought this was because i was ashamed of my sexuality, when i came to sort of understand that, but ofc now i know abt dysmorphia & dysphoria, so yknow. knowledge.

when i went to college i came out big time, & it became very important to me to both be queer & look sort of queer but not queer enough to be Queer—i wanted ppl to be like ‘maybe into girls, but maybe straight.’ as im sure many of us know, this was a lot of internalized shame abt a lot of things, so that sucks. however, i cut my hair which was like the first comfortable thing i had done for my appearance in a v long time, & also smth which my parents hated & i did anyway. i wore a Lot of rly femme stuff bc they hated it tho? so this was all v confusing for me bc my parents are v homophobic, & here i was in college starting to read queer theory & gender theory & falling in love w like. the most beautiful, brilliant girl, & also spiraling into a mixed episode after i got diagnosed w bipolar I, which sort of put everything else on the backburner for a year.

eventually tho i sorted that out (as much as u can sort smth like that out) & i started to rly pay attention to androgyny. i went to europe & i think theres a whole bunch of nuances to fashion that exist there that certainly arent here, & i spent a winter in warsaw so there were aspects to fashion & expression there that were entirely abt functionality, which i was v attracted to. in college, as well, & especially after college, gender became smth i was v much invested in bc i was (& absolutely am) a feminist, so my place in the canon & zeitgeist was one as a queer female writer. it was so so central to who i was, & what i was writing abt. every single thing i wrote in college was in some way a balm, some sort of piece abt myself, learning abt trauma & the body. sorting through a lot of hurt. i could write a theory piece abt elizabeth bishop & reading it back now i know it was also abt me, that kinda stuff.

when i went to toronto i rly rly started being invested in looking critically at gender & my experience of it bc being read as a woman was smth that was grating on me, even tho i had identified as woman for so long, & had no desire at all to transition. i know 100% i am not a trans man, so that was confusing for a long time because i sort of knew there was a space between but it was very hard to conceptualize. eventually i sort of came to understand gender is a color wheel where cis boys are blue & cis women are pink & then theres literally a ton of other colors out there, so yknow. lots of different experiences of gender. some days i feel much more strongly like i identify w women (in mostly political situations, it matters to me to be read as “female” sometimes bc rights for ppl w vaginas AND trans women are FUCKED UP in so many places). some days i hate the idea of identifying as a woman. i also never want to identify as a man. so when i was in toronto i rly started to know a LOT of queer ppl w so many different expressions of gender. & we were all young & lovely & open & fucked up & we would get fucked up but we would also go read together in the park & wander around alleys in the snow & like. there’s a Muchness to toronto that i experienced that helped me, personally, understand these intersections between my own sexuality & gender & expression as much more than just a gay woman who isn’t butch & isn’t femme. i was rly lucky to become part of a community that identified as Queer, & so i became v much understanding of these different aspects of my own identity that fell outside of binary—my sexuality, my gender. Queerness is a vital & profound thing to me & i was rly able (& so fortunate) to have a close friend group of mostly queer ppl & then a few of the actual literally most incredible allies i’ve ever known & will ever know.

so then from there i just rly kinda thought abt things & like i got a binder & stuff in TO but rly started to evaluate my dysmorphia & dysphoria (i had struggled really badly w an eating disorder in/post college) & was able to sort out that so much of it had to do w feeling uncomfortable in the way my body was read in the world. & that will always happen bc i LOVE makeup & i have a “feminine” voice & sometimes i love skirts & i shave my legs bc i like how it feels sometimes & i dont ever want to go on T—none of these things make anyone ANY gender, but ofc theyre coded as “female.” but i’m learning to just yknow educate where i can & take a lot of solace in the community of ppl i have fostered who support & understand my Being. i’ve also allowed myself to be invested in aesthetics & fashion & how much a role that plays bc like. yah fuck Yah i look cool shit bc my friends love it & absolutely i wanna wear the same vans maia mitchell has & i want a melodrama hoodie & i LOVE local toronto designers & their angsty patches abt sad songs & whiskey but i love fashion born out of histories that is connected to smth i can understand, like queer punk movements, or smth my friends & i share, like blundstones (which are gender neutral, which is cool). i’m fascinated in how ppl express their Selves, & we are so unfortunately Finite in our bodies in the sense that that’s rly how the world, in our day to day interactions, processes who & what we are. so i invest in the care of mine by trying to listen to it, trying to make it comfortable—& clothing is a huge thing that can do that. also its fun so anyone who thinks loving (ethical, cool) fashion is vain can eat my ass

anyway lmao now i have a p decent sense, atm at least, of what makes my body its most comfortable (even if that is v far from Comfortable at times). i love my tattoos, & i basically never rly want long hair again i’m p sure, & i love makeup, & if i could wear vans or blundstones every day for the entirety of my life at this point that would be incredible. those are easy things, & i try to allow my body, in its cultural place, to have access to them as much as possible, which is so important to me in a sense of having access to a physical space that matches my mental space of gender identity. politically sometimes i feel v v much a “woman” in terms of my lived experience, & i allow that of myself as well. sometimes when i write it’s important to me that my poetry be read as a queer person but also someone who is culturally coded as a woman, bc those are still always central concerns of my work—the trauma, the power there. but day to day i’m mostly happy spending my time obsessing over other things, like what to call this new genre of music halsey & lorde are making, or why my dog stevie is a Fanatic when it comes to ice cubes. ive come to enough terms w my gender, & my sexuality—& the expression thereof—that unless someone is talking abt gender, or someone asks me a question, it’s not smth that is constantly on my mind, which is. Nice. its so nice lol.

also i would like to point out that i know my experience being non binary is rly rly white & western in so many ways & i get that. my cultural experience of non binary gender is also v much this like. ive felt frustrated before but never in my life have i felt scared to be non-binary while i was like out & abt in the world, bc i still pass as a cis white woman literally everywhere all the time (which has its pros & cons but like, still, a lot of privilege). so i do try to keep all of that in mind as well when i try to center myself & all that jazz

& who tf knows where all of that will take me. i feel like, bc ive learned to listen to my body & my brain so much better than i did when i was younger—even when they might hate themselves—i am so much better at filling up a space in the world that occupies smth healthy. which is not smth i take lightly, & i’m also so open to changes, as long as they feel good & beneficial & true. which is sort of new for me. who knows man ur mid twenties are a wild ride

27 notes · View notes

miniwolfsbane · 6 years ago

Text

Copied from @andalite-angel post. Edited slightly.

A - Ships that you currently like a lot. (They don’t have to be OTPs because not everyone has OTPs.) Friendships, pairings, etc. are allowed.

Biospecialist, Marco/Rachel, Sam/Rahne, all cannon Disney Princess pairings, the two young kids Pacific Rim Uprising, Lancitty, Evo Kurt/ Amanda, Jott in Evo. Skyward??

B - A pairing–platonic, romantic or ***** that you initially didn’t consider, but someone changed your mind.

Fanfic writers and Evo romy, adult Jubilee x Gambit, others.

C - A ship you have never liked and probably never will.

Never gonna be big on Evo Romy ever again, will forever hate Rahne x Roberto, Sam and Rahne with anyone but each other!!

D - A pairing you wish you liked but just can’t.

Evo Romy...somtimes. Because it does sorta make sense IN FANNON, but not in cannon. And Jean x Scott, because it’s so iconic, but I only like them in Evo, so...yah.

E - Have you added anything cracky crazy/hilarious to your fandom? If so, what?

See my fan fiction.

F - What’s the longest you’ve ever been in a fandom?

The Little Mermaid and Star Trek have been there for 95% of my life.

G - Have you ever had an OTP? If so, do you remember your first one? Who was in it?

Sailor Moon and Tuxedo Mask, Sam/Rahne, Ariel and Eric (first when I was 5, even though I wanted to be Ariel), Rachel Tobias (first when I was actually gettin into fandom), Jake/Cassie (Animorphs), Clark/Lana, Clark/Lois (I think??) and Chloe/Ollie, Romy (even in Evo at a point!), and now Eliza and Goliath in Gargoyles. I keep saying I’m not a shipper, but I think I’m just a subtle one that pines and doesn’t read a lot of fanfic, but my heart swells over seeing my OTP on screen

H - What is your favorite source text for fandom stuff (e.g., TV shows, movies, books, anime, Western animation, etc.)?

TV Shows and Western (superhero) Animation mostly, but also a few animes.

I - Has Tumblr caused you to stop liking any fandoms, if so, which and why?

I was annoyed by the Agents Of Shield fandoms behavior for a while, but I’ve never stopped liking any fandoms because of Tumblr.

J - Name a fandom you didn’t think about until you saw it all over Tumblr. (You don’t have to care about it or follow it; it just has to be something that Tumblr made you aware of.)

SuperWhoLock, Riverdale...some other popular teen shows.

K - What character has your favorite development arc/the best development arc?

Tie between Sailor Moon and Gambit I guess, but I’m sure there are lots of others. Sailor Jupiter has a good arc as well, even though she doesn’t have a lot of character development TBH.

L - Say something genuinely nice about a character who isn’t one of your faves. (Characters you’re neutral about are fair game, as are characters you merely dislike. Characters that you absolutely loathe with the fire of ten thousand suns are exempt, as there is no point in giving yourself an aneurysm over a character that you hate.)

Roberto Dacosta’s super strength power is pretty cool and he’s a chill guy. And rich. (I just realized that a lot of X-Men characters are rich, actually. Gambit, Xavier, Warren and him. Holy crap.)

M - Name a character that you’d like to have for a friend.

Sailor Jupiter and Sailor Moon. TAS Rogue too, because she seems fun to hang with, and who wouldn’t like to be called “Sugah” all the time?

N - Name three things you wish you saw more or in your main fandom (or a fandom of choice).

MORE GAMBIT (and comic Nightcrawler) IMAGINES!! And just more love and less fan wars across all fandoms, really.

O - Choose a song at random. Which ship or character does it remind you of?

Hero by Chad Kroger. Ship: Romy or Mollyx Remy. Character: Gambit or Angel.

P - Invent a random AU for any fandom (we always need more ideas).

For any fandom? A mad scientist and a famous baker get together after the scientist contacts aliens, resulting in a warring invasion on earth.

Q - A fandom you’ve abandoned and why.

To be perfectly honest, The Smurfs because we’re a Christain household and we found it had stuff in it we didn’t agree with. I was three. Other than that, I’ve only given up one other fandom permenantly that wasn’t what I thought it was and chosen at a bad time.

R - Which friendship/platonic relationship is your favorite in fandom?

Kurt and Kitty in Evo, and Logan and Kurt is cool, but I don’t actually pay much attention to it.

S - Show us an example of your personal headcanon (prompts optional but encouraged)

Hmmm. One that isn’t too boring? Remy isn’t (wasn’t? He is married now) particular about a woman’s height and is comfortable enough with himself to date a woman much taller or shorter than he is. (Remember, Frenzy was freaking 6′7 before she got rebooted to a normal height and it was implied they had history.) For a while it was a wish of mine they’d pair him with a short gal, because all X-women are physically clones of each other, minus Rahne, Kitty and Jubilee. Blargh. Oooh, just had an idea for a new art project to make the girls look individual! ^_^

T - Do you have any hard and fast headcanons that you will die defending?

Besides the above? Uh...headcannon that Remy smells good and his hair is silky to the touch and yes I’m a sick, weird little person, I know. Haha, not really. I’m not much of a headcannon person.

U - Three favorite characters from three different fandoms, and why they’re your favorites.

* Gambit: Hot, suave, lit, accent, good cook, romantic, my fictional ideal man (told you, I’m sick and weird). * Sailor Jupiter: Sweet, loyal, living on her own at bloody 14 years old, strong physically and emotionally, had trouble believing/finding her feminity like me, tall (not like me!), brunette character, thunder powers. * Tuvok (Star Trek): My second crush ever, calm, reflective, hot grandpa, sarcasm galore, strong, suffers emotionally and physically, POC and like the only black vulcan that I know of, cute little boy chest, that butt (XD), frakin’ hot.

V - Which character do you relate to most?

Surprisingly, one I haven’t talked about yet and that I’m not really fandom-y about. Rapunzel from Tangled. When I saw the movie, I was attached to her immediately. I’d grown up homeschooled and at that point I’d been caregiving for one of my parents for six years at that point, unable to move out and get married and have much of a life, so I was always metaphorically in a tower too. I have childish interests, am artistic and creative, have done LOTS of self-insert art like her, and am a generally happy person (even if I don’t always show it and don’t smile enough). So, out of every character in my many fandoms, I relate to Rapunzel the most. Also, I have only 2 things of Tangled merch-the movie, the soundtrack, and a gorgeous bedspread that’s actually based on the show, but doesn’t look like it. (I don’t like it’s animation/character designs, so it’s been hard to get into it.)

W - A trope which you are virtually certain to hate in any fandom.

OMG, do we have to go here? Anything over-sexualized or kinky or just plain gross/weird. (v***, gore, ect.) There’s this one X-Men:Evo artist on DA that would be brilliant, but I can’t stomach their gallery because they feel the need to do a few v*** and bondage pics amongst otherwise G-rated pictures. *throws up* IT’S A SHOW FOR 7-YEAR OLDS!!

X - A trope which you are almost certain to love in any fandom.

Huge guy, Tiny girl! (but it looks...weird...in live action. *Good Luck Charlie flashbacks*.) Also age differences. Some people are put off by Usagi and Mamo’s age difference in Classic, but I think it’s cute and they were really chaste about it. Specifically, I liked the part where he told her to do well in school for some reason.

Y - What are your secondhand fandoms (i.e., fandoms you aren’t in personally but are tangentially familiar with because your friends/people on your dash are in them)? Holy crap, Pride and Prejudice and Anne of Green Gables. No one on my dash is into them though, it’s a real life thing. Long story.

Z - Just ramble about something fan-related, go go go! (Prompts optional but encouraged.)

I have written more self-inserts than is probably healthy, but at least I’ve mostly gotten past my teenage phase of thinking anime guys are hot and it’s extended to Gambit as well. I’d much rather see him be portrayed by a living, breathing actor semi-bringing my fantasies to life than as a drawn character. Well, not that I’m not happy seeing him animated and his voice in Evo is still super hot, but that’s another thing. Anyway, on that note, I wish XM:E weren’t a dead fandom and I could get more reviews instead of just faves/follows. I get so frustrated, because I’m not writing my fics for myself, I’m writing them to finish the story and for the fans. I know OCs/SI aren’t everyones bread and butter, but when you work hard on something, you want people to enjoy and appreciate it on it’s own merits. My regulars dropped off the planet and the fandom is just not that active online. (It’s still kind of active though, otherwise the Gambit and other prints on Steven Gordon’s online store wouldn’t have sold out so fast.) I wish it had been as creative as the MLP fandom, but even that wouldn’t have saved it. Thankfully, there are a few people “keeping the faith”, like Coldfusion180 and some others. They haven’t abandoned it and people have made AMVs for it in recent years, long after the shows cancellation. I know we’ve all moved on in one way or another, but it’s still nice to see the love for the show and it’s characters going strong, even if we’re now a niche fandom, tiny, but there. And even if I don’t get another single review up until the last in the series, at least I can say I finished it, if nothing else. Even if your fandom is dead, keep supporting it. If we don’t keep the characters alive, they die and are forgotten. They need us.

https://fanfiction.net/~miniwolfsbane

1 note · View note

tilltheendwilliwrite · 8 years ago

Text

Soft Names, Soft Touches

Chapter Four

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Bucky x OC | Word Count: 4.2K+

Warnings: Swearing. Fluff. Russian that may or may not be correct. Mild sexual content.

Five days later Franki sat on the couch in the communal living room watching the team laugh and chat, the TV on in the background, and Steve’s hand sitting beneath hers. Steve’s idea had initially seemed so crazy but, after hearing the reasoning behind it, Wanda’s theory, and letting Tony run tests along with Doctor Cho, the results had been surprising. While Hydra had never been able to dissect her genetic code, or, figure out her mutation, Doctor Cho’s lab and equipment were top of the line, very advanced, and had managed to get much further before the samples degraded.

Her healing factor and inability to feel pain was, as expected, part of her mutation. As long as the tissue was in some way connected to her, it regenerated, but, once it was removed, it degraded quickly. However, when Doctor Cho had delved deeper into her genetics, they had found something surprising. Franki shouldn’t have been able to feel much of anything. Soft, hard, pain, pleasure, nothing should have phased her, but, the serum had had a surprising effect. While it had wholly ignored her pain receptors, it had enhanced her skins ability to feel light contact. It was why she preferred to be fully covered or submerged in the pool. The uniform pressure kept her from over stimulating.

Doctor Cho had been surprised that the Chinese had not figured this out but, after a few more questions, Franki had sighed and quietly explained to the Doc, trying to keep as few people as possible from overhearing, about her time in the Hydra base. They had kept them all barely clothed, the girls they’d taken, shorts and sports bra only, no different than how Steve had found her. This exposure had kept her skin constantly overstimulated, almost to the point of numbness, and she had grown used to it even though it was incredibly uncomfortable. Alone in a cell most of the time, it was only when training, or, towards the end when she’d been an experiment, that she had contact with others. Brutal contact. It was like they were trying to elicit a pain response and just kept hitting her harder and harder.

Even the scientists had been brutal. Grabbing, jabbing hands, unconcerned with her comfort because they knew she felt nothing. Their touch had been nausea-inducing, but she’d done her best to keep that information to herself. Whenever they came for her, she fought like a tiger until they beat her into submission. Bloody and bruised, it mattered little how they touched her because she was so dead inside nothing registered.

Doctor Cho’s horror had been apparent on her face, but Franki had just shrugged. It was what it was, and nothing could change her past. Once she’d been free to choose her own clothing, she had made sure it was long of sleeve and covered her completely, allowing her to escape for the most part the response of her skin.

With a little assistance from Bucky and Natasha, the only ones currently capable of maintaining physical contact for more extended periods, they had started to map her threshold, the place where feeling became nothing. Franki had found it all rather fascinating, especially the speculation on her ability to tell friend from foe directly through touch. It wasn’t exactly something she could test in the lab, and it remained just a theory for now.

So, here she sat, slowly breathing through the bubbling anxiety and need to wrench her hand away that filled her with the feeling of Steve’s fingers beneath her own. It helped that Bucky stood watching at the bar, his smile one of pride that she could focus on.

“You’re doing great, Franki,” Steve murmured, a smile on his face and in his eyes. Today was the first day she’d made it past the five-minute mark and hadn’t needed to pull her hand away.

“Thanks,” she said, distracted by the way Bucky licked the rim of his glass.

Glancing towards his best friend, Steve’s grin got wider with the knowing light in Bucky’s bright blue eyes. The man was providing a distraction for his nervous girl. “I know I’ve said it before, but I’m thrilled that you and Buck are together. You both deserve to be happy.”

“Hmm, yes, happy,” she murmured, watching Bucky trail his fingers over the sweating surface of the glass.

Steve’s grin turned just slightly slyer with her distraction. “I like his soft name. Fits. Kind of makes me wish for one of my own.”

Bucky’s fingers just kept sliding up and down the wet edge. Up and down. Up and down. A caress she knew only too well. She knew his touch, little ones, light ones, ones that came to her hand or her arm, her shoulder or her shin. Always gentle. Soft. So careful. They were addicting. “Hmm?” She hummed, having missed what Cap had said.

“Soft names. I wish I had one.” He grinned, not at all upset she was ignoring him. They were pushing ten minutes, and she hadn’t shivered in the past four.

“Belyy rystar’,” she murmured.

“What?”

The shocked voice broke the spell she’d been under, and she darted startled eyes to Steve. “I-I… huh?” Franki made to pull away, but his fingers were quick to close around hers, sending a jolt of panic through her body. “Steve!” Her outraged squawk drew all eyes to her.

Instantly regretting the action, he immediately let go and held up his hands. “That’s on me, Franki. Sorry, but what did you call me?”

“Whatcha doing, pal?” Bucky nearly growled, arriving in front of them.

“It is fine, Bucky. Cap’s reaction was instinctive. I’m fine.” She was so embarrassed. Why couldn’t she just be normal with them? These were her friends for Thor’s sake!

A light flush coloured her face and had Bucky crouching down. “Hey, hey, hey, doll face. None of that now. You did real good, and not everything is going to change overnight.”

His hand caressed her cheek, and she sighed, the feeling one of sweet pleasure. “I know.” At least with him, she was fine.

“Now, you going to answer Cap’s question?” he grinned smugly at her.

Groaning, hand going to her eyes, Franki sighed, “Belyy rystar’,” she said, “It means white knight.”

“Really?”

The soft, breathy question was so unlike Cap that she glanced at him uncertainly. A smile was slowly growing into a massive grin, his blue eyes wide and sparkling, and she chuckled in surprise. “I take it you approve?”

“Heck, yah!” Steve smirked a crooked grin at Bucky.

Shaking her head, Franki got to her feet and turned to go. “Then that is all that matters. I am off to meet Peter. He is assisting me with something today.”

“Spider punk? What?” Bucky grumbled. “Why?”

He was suddenly on his feet and crowding her, causing her skin to hum gently with his closeness. “It is my first day back to training. I am officially cleared for duty and Peter, and I have been talking. He’s going to help me with a new move. Something that might make getting in and out of places easier.”

“Can I watch?” Natasha called out from the kitchen, grinning at the scowl on Barnes’ face. Ever since he and Franki had gotten together, he’d been a bit overbearing and seriously protective. She liked it on him, even when it got a touch annoying. Franki had never had someone care for her the way Bucky did, and it made Nat happy for her.

“Da, if you wish.” Franki shrugged.

“What move?” Steve asked, also curious.

“A pendulum swing,” Franki said, walking away to get ready.

“You sure that’s such a good idea, doll? You just got cleared for active duty,” Bucky cautioned only to be shot a narrowed, silver-eyed glare.

“Would you prefer I prove my recovery by kicking your ass, Barnes? I could oblige you if that is your wish,” Franki quipped.

“Oh! Them’s fighting words!” Sam chortled, nudging Tony.

“She needs to test the new suit anyway,” Tony stated, sauntering closer. “Why not go a few rounds with sunshine here and then work with the spiderling.”

“Someone talking about me?” Peter asked, a wide grin on his face as he came through the door. It fell quickly when Bucky turned cold eyes his direction. “What I do? I just got here!”

“Nothing, Peter. You don’t worry about him.” She poked Bucky in the chest. “Stark, my suit?” Franki called on her way towards the door.

“In your room, doll.” He smirked at Bucky when the man glared at him. “What?”

“Stop encouraging her.” To anyone else that looked would have struck fear in their hearts. To his teammates, it simply made them laugh. “Ingrates.” Huffing, he stalked towards Peter. “You be careful with my woman, spider punk. Or else.”

“Yup! Uh huh! Whatever you say, Bucky!” Peter yelped, leaping out of the way and ending up halfway to the ceiling, hanging from the wall.

Stalking from the room, choosing to ignore the loud laughter behind him, Bucky followed after Francessca to her door and knocked firmly. “Franki?”

“I’m doing this, Bucky. Don’t be such a fuddy-duddy,” she called out, dragging the new suit up her body and shimmying her hips into it. It was a little stiffer than the last one, and she could see some of the modifications Tony had made in the mesh of wires that ran through the fabric.

Disliking yelling at her through the door, he tried the handle and walked in when it turned. “Look, baby, it ain’t that… I… don’t… want…” He had expected her to be in her bedroom, not standing in the sitting room, clothing strewn around her with her back to him, hair already tied up, her bodysuit only to her waist leaving her back and all that beautiful skin bare. “Wow…” he whispered, swinging the door closed behind him.

“So much for being a gentleman and turning around,” Franki stated, glaring at him over her shoulder.

He knew he should, really, but good god she was a gorgeous woman. The muscles of her back were sleek and toned, captivating, and he couldn’t help but stare. “Francessca…”

A small smile twitched her lips when she slipped her arms into the sleeves. “See something you like, soldier?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I really do.” Five days. Five days of soft touches and timid exploration. Five days of sweet innocence and drugging kisses. Five days was all it had taken to have him drowning in her and craving more. The suit came up, and she shrugged into it, covering her arms and shoulders, tugging it together in the front before he was able to find his voice again. “Malyutka, leave the zipper and turn around.”

“Bucky?” His hands were suddenly on her shoulders, his crossing of the room swift and silent.

“I would really appreciate it if you would leave the zipper and turn around,” he murmured, his voice deep and husky, sensual sounding.

A shiver traced her for his presence was heady. He was always so careful to make sure she was comfortable, unafraid with each step forwards they took, that, this time, to hear that growl like it was a command made her quiver in anticipation. He never demanded and the fact that this one time it had started that way, it aroused her greatly. Far greater than she had expected.

He was a good man, she knew this right down to her soul. He would never hurt her, not ever, but to know she tested the control he was so careful of… it thrilled her.

Tilting her head, Franki looked up and back at him, arching just slightly with the move, and watched his blue eyes shift from her face to her front. She knew what he would see, the expanse of skin that flowed from her throat straight down to just below her navel. How her suit clung to the generous curve of her breasts, leaving the inner edge bare, and how her hands, covered with the suits half gloves, wandered the teeth of the zipper he’d asked to remain undone. Red nails trailed down to the tab and held there, waiting. “This zipper?” she purred.

Was the little minx teasing him? Her silver eyes danced with fire and desire. The little minx was teasing him! Elated, Bucky moved slowly around to stand before her, his hands tracing down her arms to land softly on her waist. “You like teasing me, doll face?”

“Da,” she cooed, smile spreading over her lips. “I really do.”

Grinning, he let his eyes trail over the gap in her suit, admiring the perfection of her sleek form. “Can I touch you, Franki?”

Another shiver streaked her spine, all heat and need. “I wish you would, James.”

Fuck me! He damn near groaned finding himself achingly hard. She never said his name and to hear it fall from her gorgeous lips left him breathless. Looking into her eyes, he slowly dropped to his knees before her. “You stop me if it gets to be too much, Francessca.”

“Snegopad?” She had no idea what he was doing, but when his eyes fell from hers to focus on the patch of skin below her navel, she inhaled sharply. Then his lips pressed there, and she wallowed in the sensation of warm breath and sensually stroking tongue. “Oh, god. Bucky!” Her hands went to his hair when teeth pressed into her flesh.

“You okay, baby?” he chuckled, mouth not entirely lifting from her soft skin.

“I… oh!” She’d never felt anything like it. His hands always felt so good, their touch creating tingles and pleasurable waves of sensation, but this was so different. It was hot, his breath washing over her skin, then cold when his saliva caught the air, heat still gathered but it was much more intense, and slick wetness was pooling between her thighs. “Bozhe moi!” she cried out, a plea to god.

“Moya zvezdochka,” he growled pressing his nose to her stomach and inhaling her frost and vanilla scent. “Talk to me.” Her hand was clenched tightly in his hair, but she wasn’t trying to drag his head away. If anything she was holding him there, mouth to her skin, keeping his lips dragging over exquisitely smooth flesh.

Throwing her head back, gasping, crying out in wonder, Franki moaned, “Don’t stop!”

Smirking against her stomach, Bucky swept his tongue over the sleek muscles of her abdomen, felt them clench in reaction, and could have purred with pleasure. She tasted like candy, like she was a sweet just for him, made for him. The hands at her waist shifted slowly to draw her closer as he kissed his way up her abdomen until he could press his nose between her breasts. The soft mounds brushed his cheeks, and he licked the underside and inner curve of what was bare.

Franki’s knees buckled.

Landing on his thighs, he held her against him while she panted. “Francessca?”

Slightly muffled, her name was a question that demanded an answer. He was giving her a choice. Stop or continue. Looking down, his blue eyes dark pools of arousal, she whispered, “Don’t stop…”

“Franki,” Her trust in him was humbling. Holding her gaze, he slipped his flesh hand between them and gently peeled her suit from her, baring her breast. Her lips parted on a soft exhale, a little gasp when the zipper rubbed her nipple, but he didn’t look away from her eyes. He wanted to see it, see her reaction the very first time he touched her so intimately. Slowly, he skimmed his mouth over the curve, the swell of soft skin until he neared the apex. Her heavy panting had increased, her flesh pinking with the flow of blood to the surface, and silver eyes darkened to steel as he watched.

He hovered there, warm breath washing over her nipple, causing it to swell in reaction. Unable to take the tension she whispered, “Bucky, please!” Moist heat closed over her, and she nearly screamed with the sensation, only just managing to contain herself to a quiet groan.

Her back bowed impossibly deep, and he growled with how fucking sexy she was. Blind eyes, parted panting lips, a flush darkening all her creamy skin, and an endless stream of nonsense Russian was pouring from her. Everything from pleas to a deity, to sweet moans, to soft swears, and some seriously dirty ones that he was astounded she even knew. Suckling on her gently, he was barely able to contain his own groan when her knees slipped from his thighs, one sliding between his legs and rubbing against his cock, the steel rod that had lodged itself inside his jeans. It was only the strength of his arm at her back that kept her up where he could keep his mouth on her breast, licking and flicking the hard bud of her nipple and sucking the velvet skin back into his mouth.

The tight coil that grew into life every time he touched her was so incredibly strong that she thought it would simply snap at any moment. “Oh, oh, snegopad!” Breath hitching, she tugged on his hair. “I don’t… I can’t… Bucky!”

With her panicked squeal, he instantly lifted his head and drew her closer, holding her against his chest with a gentle touch. “Shh, malyutka. I’ve got you, doll.” Her arms went around his neck, and he smiled against her throat for she no longer hesitated to touch him.

Resting there a moment, regaining the balance he’d stolen from her, Franki sighed and turned her face into his throat. Breathing in the smoky scent of his skin, she felt a little giddy, a little light headed and lifted up enough to whisper against his ear, “You quite overwhelm me… James.”

Her teeth found his earlobe and tugged shooting a bolt of desire straight to his overly insistent cock. Pulling back enough to see her face, he smirked at the smile that graced her lips. “You making a pass at me, Franki? Cause ya know, if in you are, I may just have to talk to HR or something about this harassment.”

That smile had been appearing more and more often on one James Buchannan Barnes’ face, and she was finding herself very fond of it, but she couldn’t let him get away with his teasing without teasing him back. She scoffed a little when she said, “Ease up there, mister. Why you bustin’ my chops already?” The look on his face had her bursting into peals of laughter.

She’d sounded like a dame from his old neighbourhood and shocked the shit out of him. “How the hell did you do that?”

Continuing to chuckle, she gently cupped both of his cheeks and laid a smacking kiss to his lips. “It’s called the internet my dear Bucky. A little Googling of forty’s lingo and listening to you and Steve reminisce, it wasn’t that hard to pick up.” Patting his cheeks with a bit more force than necessary, she pressed back and watched his eyes fall to her chest. It was only then she remembered her state of undress and made to right herself.

“Don’t!” Bucky entreated, grabbing her wrists. “Don’t hide from me,” he pleaded softly when she stiffened. “You’re so damn gorgeous.” Her thighs had clamped down on his to keep from sliding off his lap when he’d captured her wrists, an action that reinforced just how strong her legs truly were. Once she joined him in his bed, they would strangle him when he loved her, he was sure of it. “Don’t ever hide from me, baby.” Going slow, he released her wrist to press his flesh hand to her taut stomach. Sliding beneath the fabric of her suit, he caressed the silky skin up her ribcage until he could gently cup her pert mound. “You like that, doll?” A moan escaped her lips as her eyelids fluttered shut.

“Yes…” It was heaven his touch. So sensual it was captivating.

“I could just touch you all day, sugar and never get enough.” But they had already surpassed her threshold once, and he wasn’t about to do it again, not when she was supposed to go play with the spider. Caressing the soft mound with its succulent rose coloured nipple one last time, he carefully drew her suit back over her chest and pulled up the zipper. The new suit ended at the hollow base of her throat, and he gently cupped her nape, arching her forwards to press a soft kiss to her thrumming pulse. “Take a deep breath, moya zvezdochka. It’s past time we joined the others.”

Closing her fists in his shirt, she jerked him forwards and planted her lips on his. Tilting just slightly, Franki nipped his bottom lip, kissed him thoroughly until her lips felt swollen, and pulled back only when she could no longer breathe. His lips chased after hers, and she used her very special skill set to slip out of his grasp and across the room. “And whose fault is it we are late, Sergeant? Did I come barging into your room?”

Hands on her hips, she cocked an eyebrow at him that had him wondering just how she’d gotten all the way over there when she had so recently been right in front of him. “What’s your beef, sugar? I didn’t hear you complainin’.” Laughter danced in her silver eyes and a small smile twitched her lips.

“No complaints here, Sarge,” she threw over her shoulder, striding for the door. When a large metal hand landed on it above her head, Franki had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. “Something you need, soldier?” His opposite hand snaked around her stomach and jerked her back against him.

“Just a reminder, malyutka. You’re mine first before you get to play with Parker and if I don’t like how the session goes, I ain’t letting you try this cock-o-mammy scheme of yours.”

Her skin hummed where his breath washed over it, and she shivered minutely, but she wasn’t going to be deterred. It had been five days, and she needed to move. “You know I have the same needs as you and Steve. Why are you so pigheaded about this?”

He growled softly, tucking his face down in the crook of her shoulder. “I hate seeing you get hurt, baby.”

Sighing softly, she turned to face him and placed her hands on his chest. Just that small thing made her so happy, feel so… normal, it nearly made her smile but his eyes showed how worried he was and she pressed up on her toes to kiss him gently. “I won’t tell you to stop worrying, snegopad. This is impossible for both of us. I worry for you every time you go out that door, but, Bucky, I cannot not fight. I have the abilities, and I will use them to help the Avengers. This thing I do with Peter is meant to help keep me out of trouble, and yes, it is going to be tricky, difficult to get right, and I may fall a few times, but, that is why we practice. Is it not better this way? Figure it out now when I can have a soft landing rather than a bone-crushing one?”

Sighing heavily, Bucky leaned down to rest his forehead against hers and felt her strong arms wrap around his neck. “I… I can’t… I can’t lose you, Franki. Not know. Not after finding out how right it is to touch you, hold you, kiss you.” Pulling her in close, he held her tightly. “I think I’d go mad if I did.”

“Then I will make sure you never have to,” she vowed. When she pulled back, his eyes were damp and shadowed, and she knew his past was chasing him. Desperate to lighten the mood, she gave his shaggy hair a tug. “So, this soldier I know promised to take me out and show me off once I was all healed up.”

"He did, did he? You’d best point him out so I can kick his ass. No one takes out my best girl but me.” He grinned when she giggled. “Tell you what. If you can plant me on my butt, I’ll let you pick where we go for dinner.”

“Oh! You’re so going to regret that, Barnes!” Laughing softly, Franki grinned wickedly. “You’d best suit up, Sarge, cause I’m going to hand you your ass today!”

Wicked delight filled her face, and he opened the door only to find Wilson with his hand raised. “Birdbrain. What you want?”

Grinning broadly, Sam shook his head. “Caught the short straw to see what was keeping Franki. Kind of glad I did now. You see a little action there… Sarge?”

“Don’t make me kick your ass too, Sam.” Franki glared at him as she went by. “You know I can.”

“Yeah, yeah. Still, think that last time you cheated.” He huffed, following her down the hall.

“Say that again, Wilson, and I’ll step aside so she can have at you today instead.” Bucky smirked, turning into his own rooms as they continued towards the elevator. “See you in five, doll face.”

“Better be bringing your ‘A’ game, soldier!” She called out, sauntering after Sam.

Next Chapter

#winter soldier fic #winter soldier #avengers fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #fanfiction #avengers au #bucky barnes #soft names

352 notes · View notes