#but the sketches are nice so shrugs it’ll just be whatever I get to first

[squuote]

I haven’t posted any of my sketches for her but I need everyone to know that anya mouthwashing is extremely fun to draw and that um. I love her <3 yay <3

[n0bamak1s]

whisper of the heart- megumi fushiguro x reader

summary: you begin to take notice of the name “megumi fushiguro” on all the tops of your library checkout cards. a semi-retelling of whisper of the heart featuring you and megumi. (genre: fluff, high school au, meet cute)

warnings: none! except maybe slightly ooc megumi

word count: 3.2k

a/n: hi everyone! ty all again for being so patient with me publishing this. i’ve been very busy with college apps lately, but i’m gonna try to keep this blog as active as i can while balancing it with school life. anyways, i had a lot of fun writing this, but i’m definitely not used to writing megumi, so feel free to leave feedback ^^ i also changed some details from the original movie and left it a bit open ended, so feel free to let me know if you want a part 2!

“who the hell is megumi fushiguro?”

your gaze was fixed on the faded ink reading the now all too familiar characters. the characters spelling out a name that managed to keep showing up on the yellow tinted checkout cards tucked into the books you borrowed.

nobara glanced over your shoulder, inspecting the piece of cardstock tucked between your fingers. wrinkling her nose in disgust, she plucked the card from you, holding it closer to her face.

“whoever it is, they have terrible handwriting.” she stuck her nose up, turning back to you with a playful smile. “i don’t know how you managed to get ‘megumi fushiguro’ out of that chicken scratch.” a face of mock distress crossed her features as she did air quotes around the name, as if she couldn’t believe such a delicate name would be given to someone with such handwriting. she’s always had a tendency to be a bit over dramatic about trivial stuff like this.

with nothing more than a huff in response, you snatched back the card, tucking it neatly back into your library book. your fingers grazed the worn down cover for a moment, gliding along the slight tears around the corners and the stiffness of the yellowing pages.

‘i wonder how many of these creases came from megumi fushiguro?’

“whoever it is, it seems like that name shows up in every book i check out in the library.”

nobara kicked a rock as she walked, leaving a small cloud of dust around her feet. “maybe you’re just imagining it. you always stay up so late doing whatever the hell it is you do in your free time that you’ve probably begun to hallucinate.” she nudged you playfully, eliciting a dead pan expression from you.

“i’m serious nobara. i mean, i’ve never really believed in fate but there’s no way it’s completely coincidental!”

she raised an eyebrow, as if to say you can’t be serious. “i think you’ve been reading too many romance novels, for all you know this person could totally be just some weird old guy with nothing better to do than visit the library.”

“hey!” you acted as if that last bit was a personal attack on you, and knowing nobara it probably was. “i’m not saying this megumi fushiguro person is my soulmate or anything, i just think it’s a very strange coincidence.” you shrugged off your backpack as you talked, putting away your book. noticing the suspiciously light weight of your bag, you rummaged your fingers around for a moment to find that your sketchbook had gone missing.

crap.

nobara turned to you, perceptive as ever of your suddenly altered demeanor. “forget something again?” it was almost annoying sometimes how well she knew you. was it really that obvious?

“just my sketchbook,” your hands rifled through your bag one final time to make sure you really didn’t have it “probably left it on the park bench or something, it’ll just be a minute to get it.” you turned to her with a sheepish smile, silently pleading her to follow you there. she stared blankly at you for a moment, probably having one of her internal monologues about how lucky you were to have her as a friend, before rolling her eyes and following suit.

“this better be quick, i have places to be you know!”

“no you don’t.” you turned around before you could meet her melodramatic glare.

behind you, you could hear her huff of dissatisfaction, though she made no move to leave, reassuming her position next to you, giving you a gentle nudge as she brushed next to you.

as you walked, the sunlight peeking between trees framing your pathway began to warm your face, highlighting the ends of your eyelashes and the tops of your cheeks with the warm glow of the first hints of summer time. for a moment, you closed your eyes, letting yourself be enveloped in it, before your fleeting thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a bike coming in your direction. you felt as if you’d jump out of your own skin in that moment, hearing a “move out of the way!” from a husky, disembodied voice.

it probably looked pretty ridiculous how you jumped out of the way, kicking up a fleeting cloud of dust as you avoided the sudden presence of the biker. grounding yourself, your eyes flickered up to the source of the voice, being met with the gaze of stormy blue eyes, framed by long, dark eyelashes that nobara would most definitely be envious of. taking in the boy’s whole figure, your eyes were drawn to the messy black hair atop his head, formed at the ends into contradictorily gentle looking spikes. the sleeves of his white button down were rolled up taut around his forearms, leading your gaze to his hands wrapped tightly around the bike handles.

oh, right. he’s still biking.

you turned your focus back to keeping to your side of the path momentarily, before the sight of your name written atop the sketchbook peeking out of his bag came into your field of vision as he continued to move past you. before you had time to think rationally, you turned to his now retreating form, breaking into a jog, kicking up a few more dust clouds as you did.

ignoring nobara’s incredulous calling of your name, you tried to call to the boy who had no intention of slowing down. “excuse me!” you cupped a hand around your mouth, hoping to project your voice louder. “hey!” the irritation in your voice was clear, but you breathed a small sigh of relief as the bike slowed to a stop, and the spike headed boy turned to your direction.

after an awkward moment of your continued jogging to him while he stood with a blank expression, you stopped in front of him, an accusatory look grazing your features.

“i think you have something of mine.” you tried your best to imitate the confident attitude you always admired from nobara, placing a hand on your hip and using the other one to point to his bag. his gaze followed the direction of where you pointed, his eyebrows raised while the rest of his face remained stagnant.

“oh, this?” he tugged the cardboard covered sketchbook out of the pocket it had been placed in, examining the cover. his eyes flickered between your name written in the top corner, and your currently annoyed looking face, as if he was playing some sort of word association game. you simply nodded in response, anticipation clear in your actions.

as he held out the sketchbook to you, he leaned down so his face was closer to you, as if to tell you a secret, voice low and eyes trained on you. “you should be more careful next time. you’re lucky i’m nice enough to not just steal this from you right now.”

you didn’t have an explanation as to why your heart began to race.

taking your silence as a response, he pushed it into your hands, his fingers brushing against yours gently. “nice drawings by the way, i recognize your friend over there from the portrait you drew of her on the first page.” his face remained stoic as he pointed at nobara, who was tapping her foot in boredom.

face warm from embarrassment, you snatched the sketchbook from where his hands lingered on it, muttering a bitter sounding “thanks” before stalking over to nobara once more, who looked relieved that she’d finally be able to go wherever it was she was going to.

“what an asshole.” you glared at him over your shoulder as he biked away, your gaze lingering a second too long for someone so insistent on hating him. nobara shook her head in response, clearly annoyed at your own obliviousness after witnessing the whole interaction.

a smug smile crossed her soft features. “maybe that’s megumi fushiguro.”

you raised a brow as you glanced at her. “as if!”

despite your insistence on your distaste for the mystery boy, he managed to have flooded your thoughts. ‘he must be using sorcery or something to keep himself on my mind, weirdo.’

still, you couldn’t deny how just a few more of your portraits were accented by ocean blue eyes, or pointed ends to the different mops of hair you sketched. how did you manage to keep attracting mystery people into your life?

when you returned to the library, you gripped a thick science fiction novel, the pages brushing your soft fingers as your marched it up to the checkout counter. as the librarian wrote the date on a small piece of cardstock, you took note of the fact that your name would be the first one there. had megumi fushiguro missed out on this one?

a pleasant smile stretched across your face as the librarian handed the book back to you. scrawling your name at the top of the checkout card, your eyes flickered to a stamp of ink beneath the slot for it.

donated by fushiguro.

of course it was.

the library door squeaked quietly as you pushed it open, one hand on the door, and the other placing your new book in your backpack. zipping it up and throwing it over your shoulder, you were met with the feeling of a dog sniffing your leg. your eyes trailed down to a dog almost akin to a small polar bear brushing its nose against your calf. reaching your hand to scratch softly against the back of his head, you coo gently at the not-so-little little guy.

“what’s got you all by yourself buddy?” an involuntary smile creeps onto your face at how he calms at your pats.

wordlessly, obviously considering this is a dog, he turns and walks a few steps forward, before pausing and tilting just his fur covered face toward you, egging you on to follow him just as you had the other day with nobara. you considered for a moment, before shrugging and giving in to his pretty minimal amount of convincing. nobara would be out getting lunch with maki today anyways, so you could use something to do today. after all, it could be fate.

it was almost as if you were one of those people who walked their dog without a lash, but in reality, it was more like the dog was walking you as it lead you down tall, sidewalk-lined hills and through parks filled with young parents having picnics with their children and couples going on walks. you wondered to yourself if this was a worthwhile excursion, was he just leading you to a dead end, or worse, was he some dog trained by a gang to lure people into danger?

after walking a few minutes more, you found out the spot you were being lead to was, in fact, even worse then both the possibilities you’d been brainstorming in your head, when you were met at the bottom of another hill with the stoic expression of that spike head. his eyes softened at the sight of the dog, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips that quickly vanished as he met your gaze, his eyes hardened in contrast with the bashfulness that shone on his cheeks.

“oh, you found him. thanks for that.” he cleared his throat awkwardly, shifting his gaze back to the dog. you shifted your weight from one foot to the other. to be fair though, what did you expect you’d do when you found where the dog was leading you?

“i should probably go.” your usually collected demeanor had been replaced with that of a puppy with its tail tucked between its legs. with a stiff wave, you took your leave, turning on your heel.

“wait.” his voice wavered, as if trying to catch himself before he spoke. “i can walk you home if you want. it’s the least i can do after you got him home.” he forced a smile onto his face, though it made him look more constipated than inviting. what happened to the snarky, aloof boy who had handed you your sketchbook just a few days ago?

still, you nodded, lips pressed into a line that you hoped resembled somewhat of a smile. surely, you should have been more worried about his sudden change in demeanor, but the relieved expression on his face seemed to soothe your nerves a bit. he assumed a spot next to you, tucking his hands in his pants pockets.

“your little buddy there lead me all over the city trying to find you, so i don’t exactly know how to get home from here, but maybe you can just lead me to the library.” you turned so you faced him, now aware of the close proximity between you two. nobara would probably laugh in your face if she could witness the moment you paused, stunned by the eye contact he made with you under his thick eyelashes. had you been perceptive enough in the moment, you may have noticed the blush creeping up his face. he nodded his head, which was already tilted down to face you fully, with eyes hazy and lips slightly parted.

“it’s just this way, i’ll show you.” he removed his hand from its pocket to point up the hill that had brought you to him in the first place. you gripped the straps of your backpack and faced in the direction he pointed to obediently, hoping to ignore the weird tension in the air. what could you talk to him about?

before you could continue your internal dilemma, he cleared his throat again. “you seem to like the library a lot, huh?”

by god was this boy terrible at small talk.

“i guess i do, but i don’t know how you came to that conclusion considering i only just brought up the library.” you cocked an eyebrow as you looked at him, probably sounding more annoyed than you’d intended.

he smiled knowingly at you, a hint of disbelief on his features as he raised his eyebrows. “i guess you wouldn’t know since your nose is always buried in a book, but i see you there like every day.”

your eyebrows furrowed so they practically touched, trying to rack your memory for seeing him in the library. “i’m sure i’d be able to recognize you if you did.” you were completely oblivious to the implications of how memorable you found him that laced your statement.

he shrugged nonchalantly. “believe it or not. i even tried sitting down in front of you a few times, but you were always too focused on your books to notice.” his smile was almost bittersweet as you waited by a stoplight. before you could respond, he continued. “it’s kind of admirable though. i think it’s nice that you’re so passionate about your books.”

you took a chance to look at him, really look at him, for the first time since you’d glared at him biking by. he held your gaze, eyes gentle. there was absolutely no way this was the same boy carrying your sketchbook in his bag from a few days ago.

“well if you think i’m so nice, what was with you trying to be all smart about my sketchbook?” ever the stubborn one, you were.

he shrugged his shoulders, shoving his hands back in his pockets. “you really should be more careful of your stuff. i was just letting you know. it’s not like i would have put in that effort for just anyone’s sketchbook. i guess i was just trying to make sure you wouldn’t lose it again. sorry if i offended you.”

the way he was blushing would have made any bypasser believe he’d just asked you to marry him.

“it’s just…” he continued “after seeing you in the library all the time, i thought you were really impressive. i thought if i tried to return your sketchbook, i could impress you too.” he kicked a rock that touched the edge of his sneaker.

“why would you wanna impress me?” your obliviousness was excruciating for the poor boy, though it was completely sincere on your end.

“you know, for someone so smart, you really are dense.” he pursed his lips, feigning annoyance. “and here i was thinking i was so obvious.”

at this point, you were nearing the library, and suddenly desperate to continue this conversation that you would have been dreading at the start of this walk.

“when it was obvious you weren’t gonna look up from your book, i tried checking out as many books as i could to get on your radar.” his smile had a weird hint of sadness behind it. you stayed silent, piecing together facts in your head.

“recognize the name megumi fushiguro?”

oh.

it pained you for a moment to know you’d have to tell nobara she was right.

“you’re megumi fushiguro?” your eyebrows shot up in surprise, mouth slightly agape. he seemed to stifle a laugh at your expression.

“i mean, what were you expecting?” he looked a little too smug for someone who was too scared to talk to you in the library.

“some weird old person, probably.” you shrugged, still with an incredulous look on your face. “i’m glad it wasn’t though.”

“oh?” he really did have a nice smile. “i guess you’re glad it was me then.” even he was unsure of this sudden confidence.

you pondered his question for a moment, but your body moved before your brain did, nodding your head slowly. he seemed to loosen up then, hands out of his pockets again, making you aware of how close you stood to him with the way his fingers brushed yours every few steps. a slight sadness filled your being as you stopped in front of those squeaky library doors that suddenly seemed so uninviting.

“i’ll tell you what then,” he started confidently, juxtaposing the bashful way he avoided eye contact with you all of a sudden “come to the library again tomorrow, and i’ll meet you there. really meet you this time, not just walking past your table. i can show you my favorites there and you can show me yours, it’ll be…fun.” he looked up almost worriedly for your reaction, slightly angry at himself for his sudden shyness, you seemed to have quite the effect on him.

there was a beat of silence, and he almost cut the tension in the air by taking back his request and booking it back home. before he could fully hatch his master escape plan, you reached over to grab his hand, his slender fingers lacing through yours. you gave it a light squeeze, and swore you could feel him jump a little at the contact.

“i’d like that a lot,” you looked in his eyes, which had gone from defensive to doe like in just your five words “megumi fushiguro.” he loved the way his name sounded coming from you. his anticipation cracked into a smile as he squeezed your hand back, and you prided yourself on getting to make him smile again.

“i’ll see you tomorrow, then.” he leaned down slightly as he said it, reminiscent of how he had scolded you about your sketchbook just a few days ago. you nodded in response, unable to stop the giddy smile stretching across your face.

tomorrow couldn’t come any faster.

[bvccy]

Hi!!! Hope you're doing great

Can I please have a mix between number 2 from the soft and 8 from the dark one

Thanks, lost of love ❤❤❤

Thank you so much, nonnie! I am so sorry this took so long, I meant to post yesterday but it wasn’t done. Also, the 8th dark prompt was requested just before you sent in this one, so that is filled separately here.

I tried to do the mix you asked for, and I took the liberty of writing this with Bucky (specifically 40s!BB), and I hope that it’s ok. It’s a bit of a more specific story, actually, that I’d wanted to write for a while. I also did a kind of first for me, because it involves Steve x reader as a backdrop 😂 Anyway.

Lots of love to you too, my dear! 💗💗💗

— PAIRING: soft!dark!Bucky x Reader • preserum!Steve x Reader — PROMPT: Asteria - gazing at one’s object of affection, from afar + Prassius - an impossible desire, and unclean love — LINKS: Masterlist • love stones prompt list — WORDCOUNT: 2.5k

It had taken long enough, and sometimes it seemed like it would never happen, but he finally found Steve a girlfriend — or rather, his girlfriend found him one. Dottie had exhausted several of her close friends and most acquaintances, but she knew how tired Bucky was of seeing his friend mope around, feeling like a third wheel, getting into trouble to pass the time. And honestly she liked Steve too, just not like that — but, wonder-worker that she was, Dottie found a girl that did.

She agreed to come on a double-date one night, and she and Stevie hit it right off. It was the first time Bucky met her too, and he didn't think much of the girl. Small, shy, not quite sickly-looking but not far from it, shoes a bit scuffed, clothes a bit too big for her and smelling of plain soap — in a word: perfect. She was perfect for his sickly, skinny friend who nobody else wanted, and by the looks of things, nobody had wanted her either because she seemed to have no idea what to do around a dance hall. As they were returning home that night, he even heard her confess to Steve that she had never been to one before.

They went out on two more dates, all four of them, within as many weeks. Bucky loved to dance, and Dottie too, but Steve and his girl weren't so fond of tripping over their feet and being laughed at. So they sat together at the table like a pair of broken toys, sharing an ice cream sundae, swinging shoulder-to-shoulder with the music when they liked the tune. Bucky waved at them when their eyes met, and they waved back and cheered at his dancefloor performance, but that happened less and less as they got caught up in each other. Steve would start to sketch things on the napkins while they chatted: the band, the sea of dancers, the fancy chandeliers, and eventually her.

"She said nobody's ever drawn her picture before," his friend said dreamily as they walked back, after they wished a good night to the girls. "Can you believe that?"

"Sure can…"

"She almost didn't let me do it. But she's so pretty, Buck."

"Mhm, nice girl."

"I mean yeah, she's no Dottie, but… I don't know, there's just somethin' I like so much about her… I guess her eyes, the way they look when she's smiling, or how her hair looks when the sun shines on it…"

"Get a load a' you," he grinned, wrapping his arm around Steve's shoulder in a playful grip that moved his friend's whole body. "One dame's sweet on you, and all of a sudden you're Romeo."

"At least I'm not a punk like you," Steve teased, slipping from his grasp.

"You know what I like best about her?"

"What?" he asked, with a hint of jealousy.

But Bucky smirked without a care. "How she keeps you out of trouble."

It had, indeed, been a while since Steve got in an alley brawl, and by their fifth date his last few bruises healed. He'd almost gotten into one by a cotton candy stand at Coney Island, but his girl was there to pull him back.

"Stevie, leave him alone…"

"You heard what he said?!"

"Who cares," she sighed, clinging to his arm and throwing the other man a hateful look. "Come on, didn't you want to win me that stuffed teddy bear?"

"Better listen to your girl, pal."

"Oh go find a sty to wallow in," she hissed.

"I ought'a smack some manners into you, you two-bit broad!"

"I'd worry about my own manners if I were you, buddy." Bucky slipped between them, coming from behind, standing now close enough to punch the guy if things got heated. But, seeing himself outnumbered, the other man cursed them and left. Just then, Dottie finally caught up.

"What's going on?" she asked, a little out of breath.

Bucky turned around, and was met by the heart-melting sight of Steve and his girl holding each other, her hands on his cheeks as she quietly chastised him, but loving enough that it made him smile and giggle. She closed it with a kiss to his cheek that made the boy blush, and a kittenish rub of their noses together.

"Nothing, everything's fine."

It was around the time they went to see a movie together that Bucky's joy for Steve turned into something else. They sat in the back while some musical played, and through the flashing lights and the corner of his eye, he could see his friend with his sweetheart holding hands on top of her lap throughout the whole performance. Meanwhile Dottie kept rubbing up against him, sometimes leaning her head on his shoulder, daring in the darker scenes to kiss his neck, but when she tried to get more of his attention —

"Buckyyy, what's wrong?"

— he shook her off. Hearing his name spoken by her voice suddenly felt disappointing.

He caught himself staring more and more, and not just when they went out together. Sometimes, the girl came by and spent some time with Steve, looking at his newer sketches, trying her hand too — oh and how disgusting they looked, Steve taking advantage of the situation to sit behind, and wrap his arms around her, and whisper in her ear. The pair greeted him cheerfully when he stepped through the living room and caught them, and he grinned back at them as he took a glass of milk, but all his appetite was gone.

And when they walked together through the park, and he saw them holding hands again… When Steve dug for some change to get her an ice cream, and they giggled stupidly as they made a mess of sharing it… When she fell asleep by his side one night at the dance hall, and Stevie woke her up with a tickle down her cheek, and she shivered and murmured like a bird and hid her face in his unworthy shoulder…

"Why don't you ever wanna dance, doll?" he asked as they were fetching drinks.

"Not much good at it, I guess," she shrugged. "The fast ones make me dizzy and I always trip."

"I can teach you. It'll work out great! Stevie teaches you to draw, I teach you how to dance… What do you say?"

The girl seemed to think, but shook her head. "Hmmm… No, not right now. Thanks," she smiled politely. "Besides, what would Stevie do meanwhile?"

She told him no just for the sake of keeping his scrawny little friend company, and Bucky had never felt more insulted — not that she wouldn't dance with him, although that hurt enough, but that he couldn't remember the last dame that gave something up just to stick with him, or got into fights for him, or kissed his wounds away, or held his hand in hers with no ulterior motive, and he'd found a girl that did that, and he wasted her on Steve.

So what if she was a little on the smaller side? So what if her dresses didn't fit right? So what if she came down with the cold at every change of season? He put up with it for Steve and he wasn't half as charming. The girl, instead, looked very delicate, more feminine in her own way, like when she braced her fingers on a table as she talked and mindlessly swung back and forth, animated in whatever she was saying, and her digits bent in such a childish way he feared they'd break, and it only made him want to kiss them. Or when she took her shoes off when she came to their apartment and he could catch a hint of shapely ankle, just perfect for his grip, or a peachy pink instep small enough to fit his palm. And when she fell asleep on their couch that one time and Bucky saw her all curled up, and noticed the arch of her hips and the cinch of her waist and pictured how good it would feel to hold them, and angle them upward, and…

Slowly, he started to appreciate some of what his friend had said that night, because she did have lovely eyes, and hair that looked so soft and warm, and her scent, unburdened by perfume, was sweet and girlish, and her lips looked kissable, and her wrists and knees and ankles too…

"Going out again, tonight?" he asked as the blond boy fixed himself in the mirror.

"Yeah, she wants to try this new place we —"

"Alright, alright…" sighed Bucky, already sick of hearing more. "So, that's all you're gonna do?"

"Well… yeah."

And then he voiced an evil thought. "Don't you ever want to… you know?"

"Y-you think we should?" Steve asked, turning away from his pallid reflection.

Bucky sat sprawled across the couch, and shrugged. "If she really likes you, she'd be up for it, don't you think?"

"I don't know about that, Buck."

"No? Ok," he nodded. "After all, what do I know?"

The aftermath of this particular advice was a draught of dates for poor ol' Steve, because just like Bucky had expected, the girl shrinked at the suggestion and couldn't stand to see him. For a while.

"Can you believe it, Buck?!"

"Yeah…"

"She'll see me again!"

"That's great, Stevie."

"What's wrong? You're lookin' real dour today."

Bucky knew he shouldn't. "I just…" He knew that it was wrong. "Look, it's great that she's forgiven you, but you gotta be realistic about this, pal." He had been happy for Steve at one point, long ago.

"What do you mean?"

But that was before he saw just how much love a girl could give, and realised he'd never felt it.

"Just don't delude yourself this is anything more than what it looks like, ok? She's only forgiven you because she knows nobody else will have her."

"That's mean, Buck."

"Yeah, well… I'm just looking out for you. You're my best friend, you know that. I don't want you getting hurt." It stuck in his throat to say it, but the bitterness stuck more.

And after Steve went to bed that night, Bucky took out the box of candy and the pricey perfume he had bought for her, threw them in the trash, and firmly promised to himself to never wait too long again.

But as he learned a bit later on, when they went back to double-dates, he might not have had a chance at all, because there was an unwitting element of truth to this cruel tirade.

"I can't exactly blame you, honey," Dottie consoled her as they stood in line for the ladies room, not knowing Bucky was just behind the thin divider leading to the men's. "If he does something like that again, I know this other fella —"

"Oh no, Dot, please… We're fine now. He explained things and… he's really sweet, I think he just had a moment of —"

"But just let me introduce you to Jim, see if you don't like him better."

"I… I don't know."

"He's a real charmer," Dottie grinned, "and he has these big, broad hands, jaw like an anvil. He just broke it off with Marcie cause she was a flirt."

He didn't hear anything next, but the girl must've shook her head cause Dottie asked, "You're sure?" and "Really? Well, if you change your mind…"

"Thanks, Dot," she lightly laughed.

"I don't know why you're so stubborn though, it's not like he's that far out your league. You just need to fix your hair a little bit and get a better brand of powder."

"It's not that easy."

"It's all it took me to get Bucky on my arm. That, and a better set of heels," she laughed.

"Yeah but you've always been pretty, Dot. Like, really pretty, and you know it. I guess some girls are for the James Barnes of this world, and some are the for the Steves."

She giggled as she said it, with not a hint of anger or resentment, and that's what stung the worst.

Bucky arranged to go see a late night movie with Dottie after that, while Steve and his girl went back to the apartment to listen to a boxing match on the radio and have some cherry sodas. Dottie went ahead to buy the tickets while Bucky walked them home, and after wishing him good night, she went upstairs to set things up. Steve was meant to go to the store and buy the drinks, but he stayed to chat with his friend a while.

"I can get some eggs and milk as well while I'm at it," he offered, swinging on his heels with his hands in his pockets.

"Sure."

"Or do we have enough for breakfast tomorrow?"

"Go ahead and buy them, pal," Bucky smiled, pretending to be less tired than he felt.

"Ok. And what about — darn!"

"What is it?"

"I just realized, I forgot to give her the keys," he said, taking a hand out of his pocket and holding them out. "I gotta get to the store, can you go up and give them to her?"

"Er, why don't —"

"You know I always trip on the stairs when I'm in hurry, Buck, they haven't changed the lightbulb yet. Don't make me do it."

"Fine, I'll go."

"I owe you big."

"You always do," he grinned, and took the keys from him.

Steve made off for the corner store, while Bucky started the long slow climb upstairs. It was completely dark inside at that hour, and the few candles some neighbours left to light the way had all gone out.

"Stevie, is that you?" he heard her call, standing right outside their door.

He kept one hand against the wall and walked his way toward her, stopping as he heard her whisper, "I think I lost the keys."

Blindly, she moved her hand forward, coming right across his chest. He felt her jolt at the unexpected contact, then burst into a giggle. Bucky could already feel the fanning of her breath right at the level of his chin. With an unseen smile, he took her hand, and placed the keys within it.

"Oh," she laughed. "You had them."

As her hand closed around them his own moved up her shoulder, fingers threading around her hair, and as he touched her jaw he felt her tilting slightly upward, shivering under the feeling.

"Is everything alright?" she asked.

He felt the warming tickle of her breath as he leaned close until, through the pitch black, he touched his lips to hers. Bucky did it lightly, just a little, just enough to taste and sip a kind of love he'd never really had. She stood surprised but took his kiss, and he felt her smiling into it, even beginning to kiss back just as he was parting from her.

"Your lips are softer than before," she giggled, in a sweet but altogether crushing way that made Bucky's heart beat stronger. "Stevie?"

Her hand moved through the air to touch him but felt nothing anymore, and down the stairs the heavy steps echoed, moving downward and away.

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Make A Scene

AMHL – Masterlist

Dick immediately noticed when Y/N started getting quieter and quieter as they got closer and closer to the venue.

Bruce had hired a driver to pick them up from their apartment in Gotham. And the car had gone quiet now. 

Dick reached over to gently hold her hand.

“Nervous?” He asked.

Y/N shrugged, not really seeing the point in trying to lie to her boyfriend.

“This isn’t your first rodeo, ya know.”

She gave him a look. “You know that wasn’t the same.” Her eyes flickered to the driver. “I wasn’t exactly…myself. And I wasn’t your girlfriend.”

Also, tonight they didn’t have the security and comfort of being at Wayne Manor.

No, instead this particular event was being held at the ballroom of Gotham’s most extravagant five-star hotel. It was a party for Wayne Enterprises, not a personal charity or party of the Wayne family.

Bruce had kindly asked Dick and Y/N to attend when board members and business partners started asking if the whole family would be attending. Jason hadn’t answered anyone’s calls or texts about it. None of them expected him to show up. Tim had to attend since he worked for Wayne Enterprises. And Damian…Well, Damian was his father’s son and not yet an adult. He basically had to do whatever Bruce asked of him while he lived under his roof.

“I’m not gonna leave your side,” Dick promised.

He squeezed her hand to further emphasize it.

Their car pulled up to the carpet at the bottom of the stairs.

There had to be a hundred journalists and photographers, along with random civilians who had nothing better to do than to see Gotham’s elite get out of cars and walk into a hotel.

Dick took in a deep breath.

Thankfully the car’s windows were tinted and protected them from any onlookers.

“Ready?” He asked her.

She nodded.

Dick opened the door and ignored the screams and flashes as he carefully helped Y/N out of the car with his offered hand. He also shielded her from the photographers to give her a moment to get out and adjust herself before they could capture any photos of her.

“Mr. Grayson! Mr. Grayson! Who is your mystery girlfriend?” Someone yelled.

Sometimes Y/N forgot that Dick was somewhat of a celebrity in Gotham City through association.

It wasn’t like people were asking for selfies everywhere he went. Or that the paparazzi were following his every move.

But in Gotham, people took note of where Dick Grayson went and who he was with.

And everyone noticed he’d had the same woman on his arm for quite some time now.

Even though Y/N and Dick had been dating for over a year, the media still couldn’t figure out Y/N’s identity. 

What they didn’t realize was that she controlled every single piece of information about herself that lived on the internet.

They didn’t stand a chance. 

Dick smiled and waved at people who called his name. But his hand other hand never left Y/N’s as he helped her up the stairs.

“Who are you wearing?” A female journalist yelled at Y/N.

She ignored them and focused on getting up the stairs without tripping and face planting. Not that Dick would ever let that happen.

However, she knew her outfit was going to draw gazes.

Y/N had made a promise to herself that if she was going to be forced to attend events like this with Dick, then she was going make a statement. People were already going to be staring at her, so she figured she might as well give them something good to stare at.

Instead of wearing a typical cocktail and formal dress, Y/N wore a full men’s suit that was tailored to perfection, but with the bowtie undone. It was what the fashion magazines would describe as “androgynous” in the press tomorrow morning.

Y/N wanted to control her own narrative. And she’d rather be judged for her bold decisions than just her trying to blend in.

Bruce insisted on paying for all the boys’ date’s dresses – in this case, suit – if they happened to bring one. He always thought it was more of an incentive for them to attend these terrible events if he encouraged them to bring significant others. And the press always had a field day with it, which only helped throw people of their trail when it came to their secret lives as vigilantes.

Everyone kept screaming Dick’s name as they walked in, and Y/N wondered how he got so good at smiling through the chaos and ignoring them.

Once they were inside, Dick felt the tension leave Y/N’s body a bit.

“Alcohol?” He offered with a smirk.

“Yes, please.”

He nodded, knowing it was exactly what she needed.

Quickly, he grabbed two champagne flutes off a passing waiter.

They clinked glasses.

Then he leaned forward and whispered in her ear, “Thank you for being my date.”

Y/N smiled at his sincerity.

Dick sighed before he threw back the champagne, “The quicker we find Bruce and prove we were here, the sooner we can leave.”

“Try not to sound so excited,” she laughed darkly.

Suddenly felt a small human wrap around her thighs.

Y/N gasped in excitement, “Dami!”

Dick smiled as he looked down at his 10-year-old brother hugging his girlfriend.

“Dick gave me the drawing you made for us. It’s so beautiful. I’m trying to find the perfect frame for it,” she told the boy.

Damian beamed with pride at that.

Suddenly the boy started asking a million questions about Stoker, one of his kittens that he’d given to them to take care of when Bruce gave a limit to how many cats Damian was allowed to have in the manor.

Then, to Dick’s shock, he saw Jason slowly walk over to them with his hands in his pant pockets.

He was not at all dressed nice enough for the event. No suit jacket. No tie. His white button-up shirt wrinkled, messily tucked into his pants, and with two many buttons undone. The sloppiness of it all clearly wasn’t an issue with the women, seeing as all of them were ogling Jason.

“Todd,” Damian greeted coldly, pausing his conversation with Y/N, who whipped around at the name.

“Hey, you,” Y/N smiled as she went to greet him.

Jason gave her a friendly kiss on the cheek and a quick hug.

“I really didn’t think you were coming,” Dick told his brother.

“Well, I wasn’t. But I got a business engagement.”

Y/N and Dick shared a confused look.

“What do you mean?” Dick asked.

“I found my neighbor crying on her fire escape a few nights ago. Apparently… one of the finance bros of Wayne fucking Enterprises was everything but a gentleman to her.”

Y/N’s eyes widened in realization. “J, I already took care of that.”

“I know,” Jason nodded as his eyes scanned the room. He was clearly on a personal mission tonight. “You deleted the evidence. I am teaching him a lesson.”

Dick slowly put together what they were implying.

“Oh, please don’t make a scene, Jason.” Dick begged him.

Because he knew Bruce wouldn’t be dealing with the aftermath; it would be him.

“Don’t worry!” Jason laughed. "I’m gonna take him outside before I beat the shit out of him. No one here will even notice. It’ll be fine,” Jason assured him as he gave Dick a far too heavy slap on the back.

“Just tell Bruce and he’ll get him fired,” Dick tried to convince him to take the less violent route.

“Oh, we already did,” Y/N muttered.

Dick’s gaze shot to his girlfriend.

“He’s getting fired on Monday,” she clarified sheepishly.

“Since when do the two of you work together behind my back?” Dick accused them.

But he wasn’t actually mad about anything – maybe just a little bit bitter.

Jason opened his mouth.

“I swear to God, Jason, if you say ‘club business,’ I will lose it…” Dick warned.

Y/N tried to hide her smile.

“Got him,” Jason growled as he glared at someone on the other side of the room.

As soon as he left them, Dick gave Y/N his full attention.

“Seriously?” He accused.

“I’m sorry! He asked me for a favor and I was happy to do it once I realized what it was,” Y/N defended.

Dick pouted a little. Mostly because he hated being left out.

“Don’t worry, ya big baby. I’m still your ‘guy in the chair’ and no one else’s,” she teased before giving him a kiss, immediately wiping the lipstick off his lips.

“How come Jason gets to beat up people at events like this, but I’m expected to behave like a well-trained dog?” Damian mumbled.

Dick sighed and shook his head.

“Jason likes to think he’s a lone wolf who doesn’t have to play by the rules,” Y/N tried to comfort the boy.

To distract Damian from getting further into how unfair it was, Y/N asked him to show her more of his drawings.

This seemed to please Damian and he pulled his phone out, flipping through photos and showing Y/N his recent sketches.

With Y/N being entertained by his youngest brother, Dick decided to go to the bar and get the two of them a stronger drink and maybe get a kiddie cocktail for Damian. He’d pretend to be patronized and annoyed by it, but Dick knew better.

He patiently waited for the bartender’s attention. 

“So Gotham’s Golden Boy really has returned…” a husky voice uttered beside him at the bar.

Dick glanced over to see a beautiful woman close to his age eyeing him.

It was clear what she wanted. Dick used tactics like this on countless missions.

“So I have,” he answered.

He was polite, but distant.

Women hitting on him at events like this was nothing new. To Gotham, Dick Grayson was a Bruce Wayne 2.0 – younger, just as charming and handsome as his mentor and stand-in father figure. 

Dick knew how to play the game. But he never had any interest in casual relationships like Bruce did.

“Back for good?” The woman persisted.

“My girlfriend and I are just in town for a few weeks,” he answered before ordering his drinks with the bartender finally.

“Oh, brought up the girlfriend rather quickly,” she laughed.

Dick quirked an eyebrow. “Is that a problem?”

“No, it’s just…my friends and I had a bet going.”

Then she pointed to a group of three young women, who were giggling and smiling, not even trying to pretend like they weren’t watching them closely.

“Oh, yeah?” Dick asked, already tired of this conversation.

--

Jason had already rejoined Y/N and Damian.

Y/N looked down to see his knuckles red with irritation and bruised.

“Please tell me there’s not a corpse in the alley behind this hotel now…” Y/N sighed.

“No,” Jason answered coldly. “Though there fucking should be.”

“What did he do?” Damian asked curiously, clearly he hadn’t been listening to their earlier conversation that closely.

Y/N shifted her weight in discomfort, not sure how to handle the subject with the boy. Yes, Damian was far more mature than many grown men, but he was still just a kid. There were some things Y/N felt like they should at least try to protect him from still. 

“He got my neighbor too drunk to consent, filmed them having sex without her knowing it, and then showed it to a bunch of people at their work,” Jason answered bluntly.

Damian’s brow furrowed, clearly thinking long and hard about what his brother just told him.

After a moment, the boy perked up, “I know where we could hide the body so even father won’t find out.”

“Damian!” Y/N scolded.

But Jason was beaming.

Y/N looked around for Dick, hoping to find another sane person to stop the two boys from actually murdering anyone tonight.

But when she finally spotted him, she saw a woman standing far too close to Dick and pointing to a group of girls who flirtatiously waved and winked at both of them.

“Real cute,” Y/N muttered to herself.

“Vultures,” Damian growled as he followed her gaze.

“Jason, if I leave you alone with Damian, are you going to kill someone?” She asked without taking her eyes off her boyfriend.

“I don’t need to be watched,” Damian groaned.

“No, I need you to watch Jason to make sure he doesn’t change his mind about keeping that asshole alive.”

“Fine,” Damian whined.

Without any further confirmation, Y/N left them. 

She walked across the party on a mission, never taking her stare off of her boyfriend.

Dick did a double take when he noticed her heading towards him.

“Hey,” he greeted innocently.

Because he was innocent. All he’d done was be polite to a bunch of women who were after him for his name…and maybe his good looks.

“I was wondering where my drink was,” Y/N said with a surprising calmness and smile.

Then she turned to the woman. 

“Hi, I’m Y/N. You must be a friend of Dick’s.” 

She held her hand out.

No cattiness. No rudeness.

Y/N said it with the same kindness that drunk women having with other drunk women in bar bathrooms.

“Oh…I’m Irina,” the woman stuttered as she took Y/N’s offered hand, clearly confused by Y/N’s niceness.

Dick held out her drink.

Y/N took it, quickly clinked her glass with both Dick and Irina.

“Cheers,” she sang before tossing it back and chugging the drink that was meant to be slowly sipped.

Dick didn’t know what game his girlfriend was playing, but he was intrigued.

Once Y/N lightly placed her empty glass back on the bar, she turned to Dick and tilted her head to the side. “Could you show me to the bathrooms? I have no idea where they are.”

“Of course,” Dick answered without knowing where this was going.

“It was nice meeting you, Irina,” Y/N told the woman as she linked her fingers with Dick’s and guided him away.

—

Meanwhile, Jason watched the interaction as if he were watching an award-winning movie. Him and Damian were way too far to hear, but everyone in the bat family could read lips more than fluently.

Then Jason smirked as he watched Y/N drag Dick away.

“Boys,” Bruce greeted as he snuck up on the two of them. “What are we staring at?”

“Oh, you know,” Jason hummed with hilarity, “just watching Y/N assert her dominance.”

“Good for her,” Bruce grinned as he realized what was happening.

He moved his attention to his youngest boy. “Alfred is waiting outside with the car. You’re officially released from your duties.”

“Finally,” Damian groaned.

“Don’t you wanna say bye to Y/N?” Jason asked.

“They’re coming to the manor tomorrow afternoon,” Bruce answered for his son. Then he raised a brow at Jason. “You’re welcome to join us.”

Jason’s only response was a shrug.

Bruce tried to hide his disappointment and nodded before he guided Damian away and walked him outside, where Alfred was waiting.

10 minutes later, Jason saw Dick trailing behind Y/N as she walked back to the main area of the event.

Jason burst out laughing at the spectacle. 

Dick’s hair was an absolute mess. Half of his shirt was untucked. His jacket was draped over his forearm. His lips were swollen and pink. Y/N had left lipstick all over his neck and even a bit on the collar of his shirt.

Yet somehow not a single hair was out of place on Y/N and her makeup was still immaculate. Her outfit was just as sleek and clean as when she’d arrived. The only thing different was the proud smirk on her lips.

Clearly Y/N had just had her way with Dick.

But she wanted to make sure the whole party knew about it.

—

Y/N hadn’t said a word to Dick since she dragged him from that woman.

Her body did all the talking.

One second they were at the bathroom doors, the next Y/N had thrown him against the tiled wall after locking the bathroom door.

She gave no verbal explanation, just started kissing him and undoing his pants.

“Not that I’m complaining. Like, at all,” Dick laughed as they rejoined the party. “But wanna to tell me what that was all about?”

Y/N finally stopped walking and turned to face him with narrowed eyes. “I think you know, Richard.”

Y/N only ever used his full first name to provoke and tease him. And he hated that it worked every single time.

Dick glanced around to see that everyone in their vicinity was eyeing them. Well, they were mostly eyeing him and how it was clear he’d just been fucked in the bathroom.

He stepped close to her and lowered his voice, “Ohhh, I see how it is.” His eyes flickered down to her lips for a split second. “If a guy does that, he’s jealous and possessive. But if a woman does it, it’s sexy…”

Y/N proudly smiled like the cheshire cat. “Exactly.”

Something over his shoulder caught her attention. “Oh, I see Tim. I’m going to go say hi.”

Without hesitation, she brushed past him.

Dick let his head fall, put his hands on his hips, and laughed.

He’d pay her back later tonight. And by ‘pay her back,’ he would just tell her how incredibly hot her behavior had been and basically invite her to do it whenever she damn well pleased.

Dick felt a presence beside him, and he didn’t have to raise his head to know it was Bruce.

“Hey,” Dick greeted him nonchalantly.

“You have lipstick all over your neck,” Bruce told him as he took a sip of his drink and looked around the party. “And your zippers down.”

“Sure is,” Dick sighed.

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

OK. This was way too fun to write. 

Let me know what you think!!!

ALL BONUS CONTENT CAN BE FOUND: HERE

[mypersonmyg]

Tebori Tapioca | JJK

**beautiful banner made by @monvante​ <3

pairing: Jeongguk x reader

genre: fluff, strangers to lovers, love at first sight,  tattoo au, tea shop au

wc: 15k

warnings: language, slow burn???

summary: a shining beacon in a sea of monotony OR you just might believe in love at first sight

a/n: hi friends, umm so yea this is a fic i’ve been cooking up for a while and as seems to happen with most of my fics there’s definitely room for more but i didn’t wanna go overboard because the last time i did no one read womp womp...

ANYWHO there’s still very much room for this universe to grow whether it be drabbles, smaller oneshots or whatever so if you have requests pls send them !! for this au or any others

honorary tag: @gukssunshine​

masterlist

Sunlight filters through an open storefront, natural light shading the room in incandescent glow, the honk of horns  just overstating the chirp of the birds perched in overarching trees that line the street. Lights are still lit, strung throughout branches despite the hour slowly inching toward noon. 

Your pencil taps a worn pad, the hundredth rotation of the dormant rectangle of sheets providing no more inspiration than ninety-nine and below. You shove the contents along a desk littered in your crumpled defeat, legs kicking to the wooden surface with comforting intent. 

It’s not unusual, the stray of your eyes to the shop just a few buildings from the florist decorating the opposing side of the street. A work in progress, a work almost in completion. It’s become a game, the guessing of its contents, the colorful display before it’s displayed intriguing to many passersby. You’re close to pondering a new theory when Jimin interrupts with his entrance from the back, reciting safety to Namjoon’s latest masterpiece. 

He whistles an impressive tune following the departure of a satisfied client, rounding his occupied desk and knocking your feet from his cluttered surface. You don’t have time for the countered glare of offense before his words are zeroed in as if he’s been waiting to direct them long before now when your guard is readily disarmed. “You have an office for a reason, why do you always have to sit at my desk.” 

“It’s a nice view.”

“I’ll admit that my delicate features leave nothing to the imagination, but I’m tired of cleaning up after you.” His words are emphasized by his hand’s routine swipe, piles of paper tumbling to the can beside him in rapid succession. Your eyes roll, Jimin’s fingers already beginning to type away on his desktop while your pupils track the delicate arch of his digits and your ears listen to the satisfying click of keys. The consideration of locking yourself away in your office trapezes along the wide expanse of your mind, but before it’s made up Jimin is speaking again, this time with an air of factual superiority. “A tea shop.”

“Hmm?” 

“The shop down the street, it’s a tea shop.” 

“You sound pretty confident,” You hum, eyes darting to the window, turquoise staring back in the fashion of awnings and fresh paint bordering a wooden frame. The sleeves of your sweater bite at your wrist in comforting fuzz, a slight itch along the skin  to pull you from quaint interest. “What makes you so sure?” 

“Just a feeling, it’s got that certain ambiance, you know?” Jimin’s hands wave with the impression of the ambiance so to speak, his eyes squinted in that way you so adore. The thought crosses your mind on many occasions, to compliment his subtle beauty, but the knowledge of his playfully arrogant counter always draws you from speech.

“Or because we ran into the owner on our way in this morning,” Namjoon chirps in kind, strolling to the lobby, his own pad in hand. He neatly tosses it to the desk, fingers skimming through unkempt hair. “Nice guy, said he might drop in for a consultation sometime.” 

“Consultation? Sounds big,” You muse, hand finding your abandoned pencil to drag faint strokes along your page, though even the slight draw brings grimace to your features, dulled in the shadow of your palm pressed to your forehead, easily nudging wisps of loose hair. Namjoon shrugs, a non-committal range of motion, his neck craning over your shoulder to sneak a peek at your lack of a work of art. 

He doesn’t speak on it, simply taking in the unfinished strokes, presumably in an attempt to reassure you in the midst of inspiration long lost. You're prepared to assure him that there’s no need for forced encouragement, but he moves on, collapsing onto near plush without a word.

“Says he’s been thinking about it for a while so I told him we could help him out. He also invited us to his opening, said he'd save some tea for us if we’re busy.” Lips pull back, dimples accenting Namjoon’s heavy cheeks. 

You’re unsurprised by his amicable tale, recalling your fresh steps into this very shop just a few years prior. Your body was bare of ink and your arms bore only a flimsy book with hopeful sketches. He’d taken in your wide eyed glance and the disappearance of your bottom lip to the gnawing confines of your teeth. His towering height and newly trimmed hair taunting you within the daunting shadow that filled your frame through the doorway. 

You chuckle at past memories, wondering how you could ever fear the gentle giant, his lips pulling into ready grin as he showed you to the very desk before you now. 

“What’s so funny?” Namjoon calls to you,  Jimin halting in his current endeavor to glance the smirk stretching your cheek. 

“Nothing, just thinking. Was that your last client for the day?” You grab for the sign-in ledger, finger trailing the thick page, pinky tugging at the pulled edge of a worn corner. Your smirk flips to a frown poorly withheld, the page filled with Namjoon only reminding you that your own supplies need only be sanitized to prevent the collection of dust. 

“Yeah, I figured we’d just close shop early today.” Jimin swipes the ledger with a tisk in your direction, not blind to silent thoughts. 

“It’s noon, what if someone wants a walk-in?” Your gaze slides to the clock, hands ticking slowly along the round wall piece. It’s not unreasonable to assume someone will come in seeking art of the bodily variety, and your hands itch to prove your worth, even if it lies within an album long binded. 

“Then I’m sure they’ll still want it tomorrow.” Namjoon shrugs, his hands folding over his chest forcing the bulge of recently buffed arms. You almost make a joke about the possible tear of the t-shirt hugging his frame, but refrain out of refusal to partake in the pursuance of sure to follow antics. “Besides, it’ll give you more time to work on that.” 

You follow the tilt of Namjoon’s hair, long grown out from his routine refusal to take time from his day to get a trim. You often joke that he’ll be gallivanting with a tail soon enough, his thick locks nearly shoulder length as it stands. He often finds himself shaking it from his peripheral with the wrong angling of his head. He motions to your barely done sketch, the page glaring at you with a mocking disgust. 

“Yeah, that’s what I’m gonna do.” You drip sarcasm, pad tossed to your bag and jacket jerked to waiting arms. 

~*~

Off-white trim borders the wall of a shop nearly complete, Jeongguk checks and double checks a list stored in the confines of his mental. Aside from constant fear of the opening of doors without the steady flood of patrons he’s eager for business, hard work finally paying its due. 

He’s only in for the morning, the steady tick of his wrist a reminder to snap from his obsessive habit, sure that he’ll receive word from Taehyung that he's on his way to drag him from the building. His grin rivals the glare of the sun as his eyes travel a building come together. His hand falls to his arm in dramatic pinch to ensure that his eyes aren’t filled with hopeful deceit. 

It fits, he thinks, stepping out onto the walk, key slotting into the door to ensure security. His shop melds perfectly with the heavily lined street, animated tapioca unfinished in the window somehow making sense with the neighboring extravagance of bloom at the near florist and the samples of ink from the tattoo shop across the way. Even the simple thrift shop with it’s objects of interest decorating the window compliments his simple display.

Opportunity hasn’t struck to visit his new neighbors, though he did stumble into a chunk of the owners of one of the shops. He found surprise in the ease with which conversation flowed, his mouth like the babble of a brooke despite the nerves that skipped like pebbles in his stomach and his heart that beat a million miles a minute following their friendly departure. 

In his stupor he nearly misses the float of voices a ways down the quietly milling street, but the recognition of a melodic tone draws his gaze. 

“I’ll take you for ice cream.” Jeongguk recognizes the voice that seeks to entice as Jimin, though he doesn’t recognize you. 

“I’m not a child you know.” Your statement is grumbled, the words echoing that of a childlike pout. Jeongguk can see the movement of your arms as they reach to a playful shove, the rhythmic shift of Jimin’s feet looking routine even from a distance. You choose not to acknowledge Jimin’s coo, his fingers poking at your protruding cheek as if to say Oh but aren’t you?

Jeongguk watches with interest and the initiative to work up the courage to bring acknowledgement to his presence and perhaps introduction to who he expects is the other third of the tattoo shop. You and Jimin are too caught in bickering to notice the figure just feet away, your fingers pinching Jimin’s nose with  a countering taunt. 

“Can’t I just treat you to a nice frozen treat? I don’t recall that being a crime, but please enlighten me.” You pinch the bridge of your own nose, the scent of freshly packed soil wafting from neatly situated pots. 

You spot the poke of pink from one of the tall and timid plants, though you imagine the fragile nature is only by way of visual, Yoongi always diligent with his seedling evolved friends. You make note to beg him to allow the purchase of a precarious plant, an act of teasing to stem from your track record, the memory of shriveled begonias bringing even your shoulders to lift in cringe. 

“Are you still talking?” Your gaze shifts back to Jimin, his flow not conscious to your unconscious senses. 

“So rude, you should be thanking me for the extra time off.”

“As if I need more time off, but fine, I suppose I can let you treat me as an apology for your ratty transgressions.” You tut. Were your ears peaked and footing less strayed you would’ve noted the distant chuckle of Jeongguk, still standing dormant outside of a dimmed shop.

His thoughts of hurried introduction came to halt with his notice of you. Your voice held a playful jab when you spoke, Jimin’s reactions only animated enough to draw slight attention from your raised tone. Despite your fussing dialogue, your posture was slouched just a tad and your hands fisted into snug jacket sleeves  to mimic paws. Jeongguk decides he’d be hard pressed not to be endeared by you in the slightest. 

“Wow, I thought I was gonna have to come here and drag you out by the ears.” Hands clap Jeongguk’s shoulders, Taehyung rounding his frame, grin gentle as he regards with relief. “I swear you’d probably live here if I didn’t keep you at bay. What are you--oh she’s pretty.” 

The two watch your retreat, your hand easily clasping Jimin's, the swing of connected wrists appearing natural with your stride through the afternoon chill. Jeongguk ignores the flare of his cheeks at the notion of exposure, thankful that Taehyung doesn’t make a show of his ogling. 

“Yeah, looks like she’s taken though...you wanna get ice cream?” Taehyung scrunches his nose, wind kissed cheeks held between gloved palms. His scoff is inward, Jeongguk’s suggestion appearing nothing short of ridiculous as the two are swept by a wind that’s particularly biting. While Taehyung shivers, Jeongguk doesn’t appear to mind, hands shoved in his pockets, heels rocking along cracked concrete. 

“Do I look like I want to get ice cream? It’s freezing out here and not everyone radiates the warmth of a furnace.” 

“Well unlike you, not everyone is so dramatic.”

“Whatever, just get some when we get home.” Taehyung lightly shoves, legs turning in the direction of his car, parked on asphalt, freshly coated by summer’s end.

 Jeongguk stares after the winded trail of a billowing pea, your bobbing figure rounding a corner and straying from widened eyes. He sucks through clenched teeth, opportunities knock having been missed at the hands of Taehyung. The clench of fists in pockets goes unnoticed as he rounds on planted heels and makes his way to the car, Taehyung happily staring from  the passenger seat waiting with a grin dripping sincerity. 

“You definitely owe me for this.”

~*~

You twitch along with the consistent drip of a leaky faucet, the tap of digits on worn ceramic offering a release to limbs without proper use. The biting chill in your toes is only minutely cured by the pilling of four blankets, barely thick enough to rival the wool knit socks Hoseok gifted you last christmas. 

You find pause in the sun setting from the window, dim lighting pouring through weak curtains. Your tongue prods at the confines of your mouth, frosted by forced treat and abandoned with the recommendation of a mug of hot cocoa which now rests lukewarm in your clenching palms. 

You force your mind to yield, racing in a direction opposite the self destructive course that usually remains dormant until you lay to rest for the evening. Hands numbed by the interference of a numbing chill met with the warmth of a mostly empty mug nearly spilling when your right palm jumps in the direction of your phone, perched on an end table composed of chipping wood and stains too set to resemble anything but a dark pool, a picture puddle fit for galoshes in adolescence. 

You wonder if Yoongi’s taken his plants in, the set of cold not nearly the condition for any pending life surely. Though you quickly pull back, recalling a conversation following another mishap, your plant lying limp before the attentive florist, his cheeks rosy from the heat lamps and the temperature set to ensure maximum growth year round. It was with passion that he waxed about the difference between certain plants and the amazing circumstances of their survival. 

It was with half amused grin, your head lopsided along the freshly painted door frame that he assured you that if a plant can survive the harsh conditions of the season of cool there was surely one meant to survive you. 

You glance to the succulent placed on the sill overlooking your sink. You had been indignant at Yoongi’s insistence that you take it, almost begging that he give you one of the smiling pink numbers reflecting in the window rather than the less impressive green poking from the dirt of a tiny hand painted pot. Yoongi’s reaction was much the same, innocence painting his rose blushed cheeks as he explained the beauty of every plant, sure to continue on until you gently removed the pot from his fingers.

Now the once shy note of green was large enough to cover your palm, a bright spot in the dark of your apartment, falling apart at the hands of purposeful ignorance from an absent landlord. 

A sharp tap against your front door draws your gaze, pointed as if to break the barrier of solid wood. You don’t notice the spill of your drink until warmth slips through your sweater, arm jerk sending the mug careening to shatter. The pieces decorate the floor with a colorful tap to pair with the running of dark liquid along the hardwood.

“Shit.” Words muttered in haste, one of many blankets piled in swaddle is heaved to the floor, your legs lifting you from the chair and gently to clothed knees. Cocooning the glass in the thick material you stand to full height when another tap draws you. Your hands tug at your sweater, the seep of the liquid already beginning to set in and your skin grows irritated from the unwanted intrusion. “Coming!”

You glance to the spot where chocolate dances along the edges of your braided rug, the centerpiece itching to soak up what it can manage of the chocolatey drink,  already dreading the work of scrubbing to prevent permanent damage. Making your way to the door your feet stride in a half walk half slide along hardwood, tripping up due to the soiled bits of fabric sticking to your feet and resisting a usually easy trek along the hardwood. The pull of the door is a surprise, an unfamiliar face staring back at you with a geometrically flattering smile. 

“Hello…” Your words are drawn and rasped, a mixture of the lack of dialogue and settling curiosity. 

“Hi, I’m Taehyung.” There’s no deterrence from Taehyung at your lack of reciprocated enthusiasm, just the shake of locks, shaggy and shielding his eyes that appear to glisten in the flicker of the hall lights. His eyes brighten in recognition, though you can’t seem to separate his stare from the reflection of his shocking irises and simply accept his hand as it slowly extends.

“Y/n. Is there something I can help you with?” You attempt a glance around his ever present frame in hope for an explanation, but the notion is non-existent so you wait as he gathers his own. You don’t miss the wandering of his eyes to the open of your apartment but don’t call him on it, an entrance composed of nothing more than a table and a crooked portrait gifted by Jin. You can hear his distant cackles as he positioned it just perfectly before the door. 

“Actually I was gonna ask you how to work the heat in this place, but you look about as warm as me so…” He shifts on his heels unsure, taking in your heavily bundled appearance. 

You tug once more at your stained sweater, your face heating with recollection of the soiled garment still clinging to you, now with more fervor from the added moisture. Your thick socks are layered over a pair only slightly less so and your legs appear heavily padded under two pairs of dense sweats. “You must be new here.”

Taehyung shrugs, half a step taken in retreat. He tilts his head just so, gesturing to the vacant hall, a door half ajar allowing the flood of light to illuminate the peel of ancient wallpaper. Not for the first time you wish you’d taken Jimin up on his spare room. “Yeah, just officially moved in today. We’re down the hall, heard the apartment’s been vacant for a while and it seemed nice enough.” 

“But no one told you that the heat only works correctly on a good day, sounds about right.”

“And our shower--” 

“Leaks?” You finish, the distant drip from your kitchen just audible over your speech. Your thumb pushes against the bow of your pursed lips, teeth grabbing hold of roughened skin whilst you watch the turn of cogs tumbling before you. 

“Yeah...should I call the landlord?” His brows knit at your nonchalance, thumb jerking to his apartment. You almost chuckle, covering your outburst with a quick tilt of your head. The simplicity of the suggestion seems only to add to the hilarity of the situation. 

“Sure, but I’d recommend investing in a space heater and keeping a couple of tools handy. I’m not wearing four layers to make a fashion statement.” Your fingers drum along the frame of your door, the gentle tap carrying between you in soft silence. “Well...welcome to the building and sorry to be the bearer of bad news.” 

“Guess someone had to be,” His throat clears in chuckle, hand tugging at the sleeve of his hoodie, the strings hanging lopsided where his hood lay half scrunched at the base of his neck. His thumb lifts to trace the corner of his mouth, shifted in that same grin that greeted you minutes prior, though this time your return is swift and without the same haze that accompanied his unfamiliar presence. “Thank you. I appreciate your help.”  

Taehyung turns on his heel at the pace of the gears turning in his brain, swift stride carrying him back to his door, yours clicking shut along the shells of his ears. He pushes into his residence, door squeaking on hinges as it closes in his wake. Straight for the living room he makes haste with lengthy stride, spotting  Jeongguk who swallows the couch with his body, spread as much as the lengthened cushion will allow. He peeks from his curtain of hair, dangling at the angle of his head, blinking with the poke of a follicle gently prodding his pupil. 

“So?” He pushes up to a sit, nearly knocking his phone from the arm where it’s perched without care. His shoulders shake from the mix of cold and anticipation, mistaking the grin that Taehyung sports as a triumphant mission. 

“Oh this place is spectacularly shitty, my friend. Looks like we’ll be snuggling like penguins if we wanna get warm tonight.” As if to punctuate his vivid explanation, Taehyung slides dangerously close to where Jeongguk remains sitting, legs brushing as he sinks into the already heated seat. 

Jeongguk nudges to the sharp of Taehyung’s shoulder, encouraging him further inward with a defeated groan. He’s sure he catches the scent of something similar to carpet that’s been left to mildew, but he attributes it to imagination. Somehow this very apartment seemed a saving grace just a month ago.  “I knew we should’ve splurged on that loft. Why are you smiling?” 

“Hm, so that girl that you were staring at earlier, you know her?” Taehyung doesn’t shy from his urge to throw himself over Jeongguk’s lap, ignoring the squint scrutiny from above. He pokes at the underside of Jeongguk’s chin, teasing a reaction from him, grimace evident from the suction of his cheeks. 

“Not exactly, I know the guy she was with though. They own the tattoo shop, why?” Taehyung braces his head with one hand, the other grabbing hold of the string dangling from his clothes, rolling the aglet between agile fingers. He ponders the thought of revealing that just beyond moth eaten wallpaper and the cracks of a concrete hall you await just a few doors down. 

“Just a question. You didn’t think I would just leave it, did you?” Jeongguk’s nose scrunches because he did in fact find that avenue favorable among the chosen. Taehyung pats his muscled thigh with  a patronizing shake of the head, hair already tangling with the push of his heavy skull to Jeongguk’s tough jeans. 

“So what, she’s cute, not like I know anything about her. I’m more concerned with making it through the night without contracting pneumonia or risking the complete freeze of my limbs.”

The two seem to scoot closer at the thought, Taehyung now pushed against Jeongguk’s abdomen. They paint quite a picture on their second hand furniture, couch in need of stitching at the seams and the questionable stain that inhabited it upon arrival nipping at the press of Taehyung’s socked feet into the cushion. 

Fatigue abandoned the task of unloading boxes that litter the expanse of open flooring and leftover furniture. Their energy fueled endeavor long forgotten along with the memory of comforting warmth. They both ponder the idea of retreating to respective rooms, but find it would be a miracle if they could manage to pull themselves from half comfort, abandoning the hope of body heat against the chill of the shared space. 

Audible groan travels the four walls when a gentle fist beats against the door. Taehyung shoves at Jeongguk’s shoulder, a silent appeal to the younger to make sacrifice and leave their cocooned warmth. Jeongguk won’t be swayed, his arms easily finding the weight of Taehyung’s side and nudging enough to send him careening to the floor with a resounding thud. 

Grumbles and groans of the incoherent leave Taehyung’s mouth, amused giggles falling from Jeongguk whose legs are now pulled to drink in the heat left behind. Taehyung stops for a moment, thinking that his timely trek was wasted, opposing party’s fist meeting wood no more. He gently opens the door, head ducking around the corner, foot stepping out only to stub into something surely placed for such an occasion as his physical reckoning. 

He foregoes subtly, mouth unhinging and curses falling akin to rocks from a cliff side, the echo bouncing against concrete and soaking into the slips and edges of the silent walls. Jeongguk ambles around the corner with concern etched features, the draw of his eyes landing on his roommate, leg at an angle and clutched whilst he leans against the doorframe. 

Jeongguk squeezes past, kneeling to pluck the sticky posted from the top of what appears to be a space heater. His eyes scan the crisp note, glancing down the hall with the knowledge that the perpetrator is surely long gone. “Dude, you good?” 

“Stubbed my fucking toe,” Taehyung strains. Jeongguk let’s him sulk, hiding a purposeful grin from the dramatist leaning over him. “What is that anyways.” 

“Space heater.” He passes the note, Taehyung scans it quickly with a hum. He doesn’t miss the look he’s receiving from Jeongguk, aware of the name scribbled along the tiny parchment. “Was nice of them. What did you say anyways?” 

“Nothing really, guess I’m just a natural charmer.” 

~*~

“Will you tell her that she should just move in with me like I suggested in the first place?” Jimin snags on the thick of Namjoon’s t-shirt, pulling him from his task, resituating his glasses along his face rather than the slide to the tip of his nose that seemed a regular occurance. You choose to ignore the commotion, back to sweeping dust and scattered leaves from the entrance of the shop. 

Your living situation, less than ideal, often leads you to Jimin’s door, his spare room rather drenched in your deposited belongings. It’s his futile mission to persuade you to trade up from your desolate one bedroom with it’s desperate calling for tlc and take permanent residence in his humble abode just uptown. 

It’s foolish not to consider, but you always find the scrape of your teeth roughening the budded surface of your tongue when he turns to you with his grin of sweet saccharine nearly once a week. You don’t know what it is about the cracks that seem to shimmy further up the walls with each passing minute or the breaks in the tile that beg an earthquake decades off, but you aren’t quite ready to part with it. 

“If you want me to stop coming over just say so,” You huff, fully aware that’s not the case but sure it’ll throw Jimin for a curve with enough distance to keep him at bay. 

He sputters, releasing Namjoon with a gentle shove, “That’s not it and you know it! I just don’t see why you stay there, it’s so...broken.” 

“I’ll have you know that I-”

“Have lived there since you came here blah blah blah, we know. Oh hey, a customer! Would you look at that,” Jimin’s over enthused response following a set of feet flooding through draws your next words to thin air, replaced with a well meaning grin. His perked posture slumps when he realizes that it is not in fact a patron looking to empty their wallet. “Oh, it’s just Hobi-hyung.” 

“Thanks for the sunshine,” Hoseok counters, elbows covered with a patched overcoat resting along the edge of Jimin’s desk. Though his words hold a tinge of sarcasm, he’s all smiles as he regards you. Much like Namjoon he sports his frames today, wide and rectangular perched along the bridge of his nose. From the opening of his coat you smirk at the peak of a bright yellow sweater, an animation practically dancing along the expanse of his chest. 

“Guess it’s a good thing that’s your job,” Namjoon pats him on his way to his office, returning with a box overflowing with garments and books. It’s not unusual that the two of them exchange goods, Hoseok’s thrift always looking for ways to fill the shelf.

 It surprised you in the beginning, the flow of people who seemed to always leave his shop holding something to their chest like it was the world stuffed into a novelty bag. That was before Hoseok insisted that you visit yourself, sure you’d find something of interest. He wasn’t perturbed by skepticism, it only seemed to fuel the glint of a thousand galaxies that flared in his concentrated stare. 

You’d ambled the lot for a good thirty minutes, fingers gliding along shelves so sturdy it came as a shock that he installed them himself, the wiggle of his elongated fingers when you recited the thought still fresh. It was the belief of Hoseok, in his own words, that there was a magic in places like his. A magnetic pull that would lead you to just the thing you need, often times things he himself didn’t even know he possessed. 

“The rest is all in good fun,” He’d finished with that smile that rivaled the shine of the largest star glistening from above. 

Your magic was nestled in the thick of it all, buried beneath someone else’s waiting fortune. It was the far corner that drew you, something about it just a shade darker than the rest of the large room. You’re unsure what possessed you, ignoring the insistence of magic cycling through the heavy air conditioning as you pillage through a pile of neatly folded quilts and the random placement of a busted stereo. 

“Find something?” Hoseok appeared, head resting just over your shoulder. Your crouch betrayed you and were it not for quick reflexes and a helping hand the bust of your ass was sure to find the floor. Hoseok stood with a pool of change shaking in his palm and his neat smile waiting for you to putter around with your find. 

“It’s just a necklace, nothing special.” 

“Still, take it, you never know.” He was insistent that you leave with the silver chain, an onyx pendant dangling from the end  and even more so that, rather than pay him, you admit that there’s something in the air. You agreed, but your reluctance was only truly squashed when you found yourself adorning the necklace more than your usual jewelry reserved for occasion.

“Hey, did you guys hear about the tea shop opening up?” Hoseok plants himself on Jimin’s desk, ignoring the playful glare burning a hole in his side. Namjoon rests the box on the ground next to him with a grunt, clear on Hoseok’s intention to linger as long as time will allow rather than collecting his treasure and hurrying back to his own place of work. 

“Jimin and I met the owner yesterday, he seems like a really nice guy.” Namjoon fills before Jimin has the chance to allow his jaw to unhinge, no doubt planning to flaunt his basic knowledge like privileged information.

“That’s nice. Rumor has it he specializes in boba.” You would chuckle were it not for the wild look in Hoseok’s eyes, his hands painting imaginary rainbow before slotting through the pockets of his coat. His feet steadily tap tap against the tile, the gentle nod of his head not at all unusual but nonetheless intriguing. “It’ll be so nice not having to drive a town over just to have a nice tapioca pearl.” 

“You know they sell those, you could make your own.” Your words are all but lost on the eccentric businessman, his tactic to avoid information displeasing to his interests taking full effect. His body angles, half hiding a chuckling Jimin from your view. Sliding the broom to the near closet, not unaware of leaves sadly crumpled against the tile from Hoseok’s timely entrance, but not bothered enough to scoop them into the waiting bin, you make haste to your office slipping between the door slightly ajar. “Right. Well I’m gonna go try to get some work done.”

You release a stuttered breath upon the gentle click of your door, mumbled dialogue just barely pushing through the thick wood. Air puffs your cheeks in half contemplation, silence stealing the inspiration that seemed to dance before you, brain now only half awake as time seems to dwindle at the speed of sound. Instead of the reach for a waiting pad and the scatter of ballpoint colors staring from your desk unused and impatient, you grab for a volume that seems to scream from the near bookshelf. 

It begs the recollection of time well spent, a pang in your chest follows a  rushing to the surface as if air tearing from lungs lacking capacity. Your full weight collapses to your chair, recently upgraded at Namjoon’s insistence that nursing the squeaky four wheeler that threatened to collapse with the wrong release of breath violated his own moral codes before the hushed mumble about legal repercussions. You aren’t complaining, the upgrade makes you feel like a permanent staple, especially when your mind is convinced that layoff is imminent. 

Your fingers trace the smooth cover of hardback, reckoning with the ache to feel the crisp of unturned pages and avoid the buildup that follows suit. It’s the not knowing that tugs at the precipice of your flowing mind, wishing for diagnosis from a stagnant flow of a previous gold mine. 

Your ears peak at the surge of voices layering the lobby, though your mind squashes the urge for a slip back into the throw of pleasant chatter. You draw a drawer, fishing for half tangled buds, slipping them into your heightened canals to drown with the sounds of your latest fix. 

~*~

The lift of Jeongguk’s gaze as heavy feet carry him past the fluorescent sign of Uhgood Tattoo and through the ringing entrance is subtle enough as doe eyes scan the lengthy space for a feminine form. He’s met with null, but the snag of his pupils on a wall of intricacy almost distracts from the loiter of men staring straight for him and Taehyung who is decidedly less preoccupied. 

“Jeongguk, nice to see you again!” Namjoon booms over every voice in the room. His arms are half open in eager acceptance and Jeongguk leads Taehyung to the settled group, one last sweep still leaving him wanting for an introduction or a glimpse at best. “We were actually just talking about you.” 

“About me?” His tone toes between surprise and unease, lips puckering in the shape of ‘oh’ and steps stuttering against the crunch of leaves slipping along linoleum. 

“Yeah, Hoseok here was just saying how excited he is that you moved in. He owns the thrift shop just across from you.” 

Hoseok doesn’t need much introduction before he’s centered in front of Jeongguk, smile glinting and hands reaching for the younger man with much fervor. Jeongguk would find the proximity daunting were it not for the friendly face reflecting in his widened irises. His chest rumbles, glad to place a face to bright signs and eccentric displays. 

“Nice to meet you, we’re all glad to have a new face on our little strip. I’m especially glad to have an excuse to save myself from Jin’s questionable experiments in the kitchen.” Hoseok’s hand has yet to stop its steady shake of Jeongguk’s, too caught in words, leaving his mind’s body on its own. “Feel free to drop by my shop anytime, I love seeing new faces. Plus-”

“Here we go…” Jimin cuts, feigned exasperation coating his pitched tone before he excuses himself to the back of the shop. His exit isn’t swift enough to hide the exasperation of the puff of air that gaps his lips. 

“There’s a special kind of magic in a shop like mine and because you just moved in the first trinket is on the house!” 

“Oh magic? Taehyung’s really into that stuff, we’ll stop in sometime.” He gestures to his friend whose hands are shoved to the thick of his sweatshirt, lips pushed inward with the suck of his cheeks. “This is him by the way, Taehyung, he’s my partner of sorts at the cafe and my roommate.” 

“Yeah, though the last one is questionable at the moment. Nice to meet you guys, this place is sweet! Do you do piercings by any chance?” As if by pure luck Jimin’s stepping back into the room, his eyes set ablaze with passion by the innocent inquiry. 

“Piercings are my specialty actually, I can pierce any and everything!” His hands clasp to Taehyung’s shoulder, glad for excitement out of the realm of files and spreadsheets. Taehyung, surprised by the eager response, can only seem to nod along to the spew that falls from Jimin’s lips that near miles per minute.  “Are you interested? I’d be happy to show you our collection.” 

“This could take a while,” Jeongguk is startled by the presence of Namjoon somehow closer than before. Jimin is still spouting about his work to his potential client, Jeongguk takes in Taehyung’s features in search of a signal for help, but only finds him  painted with interest and intrigue at the bundle of knowledge that is Park Jimin. Namjoon gestures to a hall along the far wall, a couple of paintings half crooked beckoning them forth.  “We can talk about those tattoos if you’re interested?” 

The buzz that surges in the cavity of his chest is answer enough, companied with the vigorous nod of his head, curls bouncing against the frame of his cheeks. “That would be great!” 

Namjoon easily falls into the roll of guide, leading the two down the hall and past a couple of doors tightly sealed. The walls are a dark shade, set aglow by the heat of fixtures hanging overhead. Even in the dim setting, Jeongguk finds his head swiveling in every direction, thirsting to take in every inch of the place.  In his haste he nearly trips over a section of flooring slightly raised, likely the result of settled foundation  over many years. He decides rather quickly in favor of the building, the character of the interior clashing rather nicely with the updated signage on the outside. 

‘We’ve got a few different stations for working,” Namjoon speaks up, drawing Jeongguk’s attention back. “We do them in the section off the side of the lobby if the customer is comfortable and it’s nothing major, but we also have private rooms that we as the artists like to use depending on the project.”

“That’s what these rooms are?” Jeongguk reaches with a pointed finger, tracing the expanse of the wooden frame, chipped and roughened, to a closed door. Rather than plaquing to decipher between the various enclosures there are framed sketches posted outside of each, nothing a newcomer like himself could pick up on, clearly contributed by the owners.

“For the most part, there’s my office and Y/n’s, and a storage closet but this is where the magic happens.” Namjoon allows Jeongguk a path to his office, door shutting in their wake with a dull thud. 

It’s less decorated than Jeongguk was expecting, the barely bare walls outside of the office building up the anticipation of the canvas that must be spread within. Instead there’s nothing put bright white, almost blinding compared to what he’s seen so far. There are a few framed photos of Jimin, himself, and you; all smiling in various scenarios of glee. Other than the placement of a decently sized shelf in the corner and the desk perched along the adjacent wall this office gives no indication of Namjoon’ s labyrinthine line of work. 

Even so, Namjoon appears highly intimidating as he takes a seat at his desk, gesturing Jeongguk to the comfortable chair across. Jeongguk is well aware that he doesn’t mean to give the impression of a boss, straight backed and fingers laced over mahogany, but that doesn’t make it any less so. 

“So!” Namjoon speaks with triumph, his gauntlet the toss of the pen that had previously dangled from the fold of  pierced ears. “You have any idea what you’re looking for in the ink department? I figure we can start with graphics and then discuss placement to see who the best fit would be for you.” 

“Best fit?” Jeongguk leans forward, boots squeaking obscenely on the tile beneath. His cheeks flush at lack of knowledge, feeling as if the words spewed were foreign when in reality it was a jolt sent to the creases of his spine and straight to the red soaked appendage in his upper chest. While he’s entered this room with the assumption that Namjoon would be his sole artist, there lay a chance that the two of you will come face to face. 

“Yeah, Y/n and I are both good at what we do but of course we both have our specialties. So we like to decide our clients that way sometimes.” Namjoon’s explanation leaves him none the wiser to hidden meanings and the hopeful perk of Jeongguk’s shoulders. 

“Oh. I haven’t met Y/n yet,” He wonders if you rest behind one of the many doors leading to this one, sketching away on what he’s sure can only be a masterpiece. “Is she around?” 

“Yeah...I don’t wanna disturb her though. Maybe she’ll be in the lobby when we’re finished here.” Namjoon’s words are sincere though his eyes seem to drift far off, their target the window over Jeongguk’s shoulder, shadowed by the growth of a large tree, branches dwarfing the ground outside. His trance is but a moment, focusing once more on the man before him. “What did you have in mind for your tattoo?” 

“Well, actually, I was wondering if you guys use the tebori method here? I know it’s more widely used in japan, but I don’t really see myself heading over there anytime soon.” This shop isn’t the first that Jeongguk has scoped in hope of an artist with an extra element of technique, the buildup for disappointment resting in a rehearsed expression. He watches the myriad of expressions that Namjoon cycles through, almost as if the answer rests against the tip of his tongue, but he’s unsure if it’s the correct one. “It’s totally fine if—”

“We do.” He speaks without much expression save for the way his spine seems to cave inward as he continues to think. Jeongguk isn’t sure whether he should continue speaking, choosing instead to study the tilt of a pen on the desk, threatening to roll to the floor if it dances any longer at the edge of the surface. His nerves itch to grab for the object for some form of reprieve, afraid that the pending clatter will disturb Namjoon’s steady concentration and perhaps the calm mask that he appears to be sporting.

His head tilts a tad, curls falling over one pupil, the other spying Namjoon as if zeroing in on a target, nearly scrutinizing the pensive thinking with his galaxy gaze. He can see that just past the roof of Namjoon’s head there lies a single divot in the wall, nearly tricking the bump of accidental furniture, but Jeongguk’s own fist clenches in recognition, thumb tracing the jag of his knuckles. 

“Y/n is the only person here that can tattoo with that particular technique, she’s amazing at it really, I’m just not sure if she’ll be up for it right now.” Namjoon’s words seem to pain him to utter, a strained longing in his voice that’s indecipherable without context. Jeongguk only nods along, curiosity curbed by his unyielding sense of etiquette in a situation that doesn’t wholly concern him. His feet are already pressing against the flooring, prepared to push to his feet and exchange pleasantries and assurance of no hard feelings, but Namjoon doesn’t seem quite through, leaving Jeongguk’s position to an awkward one hanging from the edge of his seat. “I don’t wanna speak for her though, so maybe you two can talk.” 

“Okay, should I set up an appointment?” 

“No, I think I heard her leave her office, she’ll probably be in the lobby. I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you now.”  Namjoon’s mouth is once again split in dimpled grin, leaving Jeongguk’s head to a spinning akin to a child’s top. He’s led from the room, paying extra attention to the hall, ears itching to pick up a tone much higher than those in the lobby he left only a short time ago. 

Contrary to Namjoon’s inference, the lobby is emptier than when they left, Jimin and Taehyung the only ones left milling about. Their speech mimics old friends, Jimin poking at Taehyung with the smile of someone who knows something that no one else does, Taehyung simply replying in kind with half grin. 

“I thought I heard, Y/n.” Namjoon directs his voice at Jimin, fingers tapping the surface of his desk whilst his eyes take inventory of the shop. Jeongguk wonders if he thinks you’re hiding behind one of the plants situated in the corner, waiting for the perfect moment to catch them off guard.

“Mm, she left. But not before this one got his flirt on,” Jimin’s elbow catches Taehyung’s rib with a sharp jab coloring his words. Taehyung doesn’t allow this to phase him, standing to his feet with a shrug of nonchalance.

“Not flirting, we just happen to know each other. You done here?” He aims at Jeongguk stepping with purpose toward the door. Neither makes eye contact, the subject of interest not particularly left to the category of unmentionable, but leaving them both awkward and stiff. 

“Uh, I think so.” Jeongguk slants so that Namjoon is well in his sights, already typing vigorously on his phone screen. “Should I schedule something or…?”

“Don’t worry about it, I have your number so I’ll just have Y/n give you a call to see when you guys meet.” 

Jeongguk stands a moment longer, his toes tapping to the leather roof of boots so chunky they seem to swallow him from toe to ankle, the footwear attempting to take from his lengthy form and failing miserably. He turns mid-step when Taehyung slaps lightly at the sleeve of his jacket, urging him to step beyond the threshold. He lifts his arm to half wave, mumbling pleasantries, barely audible of the steps that echo in his ears with each pace onto the desolate sidewalk. 

Jeongguk heads toward his own shop, missing the realization of the lack of paired steps with his own. Several paces behind him, a subtle guilt dressing the plains of his cheeks, Taehyung tugs at the wear of half chapped lips, wondering if the broach of a hazy subject is necessary. He catches Jeongguk easily with a jog, nearly stilling him mid-stride but saved from the extra physicality by the passing of a car.

“You know...Jimin was just joking.” Jeongguk’s brows lift, clearly only just catching sight of his constant companion, his own thoughts carrying him along the street without a wayward glance. His eyes widen, unsure of Taehyung’s intentions or the direction of the current topic. “About Y/n, I mean. I don’t really know her and we don’t flirt.” 

“Wouldn’t matter if you did.” 

“Yeah, sure. It’s just—look I know you saw her the other day and I’m willing to bet the only reason you haven’t mentioned that you’re intrigued is because you thought she was dating Jimin.” Taehyung treads, careful to avoid the gaze of reddened cheeks, Jeongguk’s hand raising to a nudge at his soft lobe, the other clenching and unclenching in denim blue, nails scratching the rough of fabric with each clasp. “Well clearly they’re not dating, so it wouldn’t be a bad thing if you did like her is all I’m saying.” 

“Like I said, I don’t really know her. I think she’s cute, from a distance anyways, but I don’t think that’s any reason for a declaration.” The gentle tick of the crosswalk draws Jeongguk's attention on the present path to the opposing side of the street, ignoring the gentle tick of his chest. 

A shining beacon in a sea of monotony. The words that filtered like a mantra, dressing the walls of his clogged brain, overflowing from files and dancing with the fires in tipped bins. Taehyung’s words extinguish the licking flames, if only momentarily, with meticulous reassurance. 

A pocket of vibration, dark and clinging to his chilled skin, is notification for incoming correspondence. His steps skip, tripping along asphalt, saved only by the subtle grasp of a steady hand. His thanks are dropped without hesitation, hand slipping from fabric confines with the heavily encased lifeline pulsing with power.

From: Unknown [ 2:25pm]~is this jeongguk? namjoon gave me your number, said you need a consult?

From: Me[ 2:26pm]~yea...this is y/n im guessing?

His eyes pierce the screen, undressing the words with precision, ensuring he doesn’t make a fool in reply. He wasn’t prepared for the quick interception of the conversation he’s still processing, inner workings too focused on what’s straight ahead, not minutely prepared for Namjoon's speedy deliverance.

From: Unknown [ 2:30pm]~ding ding ding. im pretty much free whenever, so let me know what works with you and we can meet to discuss what you need and whether im the person for the job 

From: Me[ 2:33pm]~ how about tomorrow around this time?

From: Unknown [ 2:34pm]~ cool. let’s meet at the park around the corner  

And now, he waits.

~*~

The first thing you noticed was his approach, a confidence in his stride yet eyes that tried and failed to hide the glisten of steady orbs and the kiss of wind landing atop the surprising density of his cheeks like the piling of new snow. Your legs were crossed at the ankle, bare skin grazed by the cool of grass half dried by the desert chill, hands gripping the accumulation of sleeve inched to the open of your palm whilst your lips curved in mimic at the pout of his own, unintentional but perfectly protruding with the tracking of your steady tilt.

If one were to ask about the slight tremor in your hand or the subtle inch across inches between, you would fail to mention the metaphorical personality of your pulsing appendage and the ooz of liquid red abandoning the organ overflowed to trace the expanse of veins humming with the melodic string of laughter yet to abandon the space since he first spoke. You were immediately taken with soft speech and stolen glances, the professional tossed aside when you asked him to meet you, altogether forgotten when he said hello. 

The pulsing was stunned only momentarily when he withdrew, hand disappearing into deep pockets to pose leather-bound pages and the hesitant stretch of muscles, the quick twitch of his neck the line of a rod, drawing you forward with each gentle reel of innocence. Now you sit, tangled in silent adoration, dripping admiration for the collaged pages, soaked in brilliance. 

“These are yours?” You stroke the page with the ease of your pointer, his head tilting, hair framing, whilst he nods in a lopsided grin. You don’t notice the glue to your cheek, his eyes steady studying you while you study the glide of his hand with jet black against the white page. 

He wonders if you catch the nerves, the steady vibration of his unsteady palms, gentle leap of muscled thigh and the brush of your leg with each accidental inch closer. The proximity did him in, your face from a distance only a picture on a page, face to face giving him the overwhelming sensation of the walk through a gallery filled with seven wonders, their spectacle meaningless without the promise of you. 

He pretended for a moment, between laughter and brushes of innocence that he’s known you a lifetime, the thought only pulling at his metaphorical strings because he wishes he had. Your voices echo is sure to leave him wide eyed and ceiling bound for nights to come, imagining the galaxy as you, white expanse the only thing keeping from the grip he so wishes he could establish on the slip of your time here. 

He knows it’s insanity, thoughts that won’t leave him be, the closeness driving him further to the edge. It’s the reason for his transition to the journal, the reason you’re perched in the grass with the whipping wind and dead leaves skirting around you. 

“It’s just some ideas I have, I jot them down so I don’t forget. I was hoping we could work on them, flesh them a bit more…” Your gaze leaves the page, magic dwindling a sum, aghast at the audacity in his words. You withdraw, clenching fists to rationalize the wait for rejection on your behalf. 

“Why me? I mean, you’ve seen Namjoon’s work, he’s great.” 

“He said that you’re skilled in the tebori method. I’d like them to be done in that style and not many people can. Plus, I’ve seen your work too, it’s just as amazing.” Jeongguk notes the deflation, not unaware of Namjoon’s warning. He’s tempted to pry, but reverses hoping to stumble upon neutral territory, already missing the strain of your muscles in smile. “But obviously it’s only if you’re comfortable. I don’t mean to put you on the spot.” 

“You’re not, I just...can I think about it? I know that’s so incredibly unprofessional of me but—”

“Take as long as you need.” Jeongguk decides immediately he doesn’t need an explanation, that your rumination is the promise of another rendezvous, high hopes lifting him over the horizon of the midday sun, skin aching for the glow of golden hour. 

You already know you’ll say yes, outright rejection never an option, the flicker of expression alight in your left receptacle more than reason to feel him once more. The physical is through the page, but the metaphorical is the connection of souls, the cliché of one person and the hope of renewed ardor. 

“I promise I won’t be long…” The words hang, heavy in the air between and with more meaning than your intent. You’re led away by the weight of obligation, required assistance from Jimin to cover the desk, legs like infant limbs after an hour unmoving. 

Jeongguk follows suit, still chewing the words before spewing his own right back. The same weight and familiarity in his soft deliverance. 

“I’ll be waiting.”

And now, you climb.

~*~

“How was your date?” Jimin is already setting up his station, eyes not sparing a glance, concentration wholly reserved. His vibration is palpable, though you don’t immediately notice, the feeling still finding stringed limbs when you reach your seat behind the desk. 

“I was meeting a client,” You speak hollow and unconvincing, the magic coursing through your veins begging to differ. Wonder is silent, eyes latching to the single eye muraled to the wall, imagining it to glisten like Sirius reflecting in the night sky, musing how one day could build a coherency of such magnetism yet still be held at arm’s length. 

“Oh really? It’s just that, I never meet my clients at the park...” His voice is a hum, settling an array of options for the post pierce browse. “—it’s certainly a bonus that said client is very handsome and already seems pretty interested.” 

“You’ve never even seen us in the same room, I just met him today.” 

“Whatever. I assume he’ll be coming around a lot more.”

Your fingers grasp the nearest instrument, ballpoint clicking in time with the tap of your toe against the leg of the chair. “I don’t know if I’m gonna agree. I don’t want him to be disappointed in the result.” 

“I know you think you’re old news, but the fact that you didn’t say no is reason enough. There’s clearly a part of you that wants to, so why not take the plunge?” 

“I can’t say yes just because I feel some strange attraction to him. That would be inappropriate,” Your mind barely registers the entrance of figure three, a client you presume, the sign-in ledger already halfway across the desk when Jimin speaks again. 

“So you are attracted to him?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Yes you did,” Your pen clatters, nimble fingers swooping it in your absence, Taehyung’s smirk a playful gleam to counter your startled posture. He greets Jimin as an old friend, the two waiting for you to catch up, the slouch of your spine and the configuration of the scene pulling you back into the current take. 

“You’re the one getting a piercing?” Wheels push the foundation, abandoning the desk in favor of the plush leather Taehyung has already sunken into. You believe he feels at home, the decorative jewelry already hanging from his lobes the badge of a pierced veteran. 

“Yeah, I figure it’s time to expand my collection.” His hand brushes the lengthy edges of his dark locks, leaving ample space for Jimin to reach his target, the depth of his gaze landing on your arch over the chair’s arm. “I’m assuming your meeting went well?” 

“What do you know about my meeting?” 

“Why do you think I was here yesterday? The piercing was just a bonus,” He pokes at the tray beside him, the light smack of Jimin’s hand drawing him back to the confines of his lounge. You try to connect dots lost in the fray of day to day. Taehyung is not entirely new to you though still unfamiliar, but you don’t recall the mention of Jeongguk during his earlier visits. 

“So you guys know each other then?” Your disbelief finds Jimin, his hand’s busied with extra sanitation and his lips focusing hard to keep his face straight. “I’m assuming I’m simply the last to know, okay then.”

“It’s just circumstance really, I’m the one who came to your door, you were in your office when we came here yesterday and he was in Namjoon’s office when you came out. I promise he wasn’t avoiding you, quite the opposite actually.” You’re too intrigued for embarrassment, your attention handed tenfold to Taehyung, his head slightly tilted while Jimin readies to pierce him. 

As of late the stench of disinfectant would trigger a memory you were fighting hard to shield from the surface, but the idea of not knowing more of Taehyung drives it from your mind, currently on one track and unwavered by anything that’s not Jeongguk. Even so, there’s a haze, or perhaps the attempt of common sense forcing you to look past the filter of brights to truly grasp reality.

“We’d never met before today, how could he possibly be looking for me?” 

“We actually saw you a few days ago, before you and I officially met. You and Jimin were leaving the shop and he seemed pretty distracted by you, but he thought you two were dating.” Your laughter emits in breathy sighs, muddled by the fluttering in your abdomen, Jimin’s lips smug, shoulders rounded. 

“Easy mistake, we’d make a cute couple.” It would be a fib to deny that it’s the first time it’s been thought that you and Jimin were more than friends. His neighbors foolishly believe your late nights are spent anywhere save for the couch, silver screen glaring back at your glued lids. 

You watch Jimin work, ignoring the bore of Taehyung’s eyes, his focal point to ignore the sharp sting of the needle. He barely flinches, your own body lurching in slight when the needle meets puffed skin. His hand clasps your wrist, pulling you closer, examining the bare skin in earnest. 

“You don’t have any tattoos...none that I can see at least.” He notices, jumping to your eyes and back to your arm. He leans forward when Jimin steps away, gathering his studded collection of earrings, reflecting with golds and silver. “That’s pretty interesting considering you give them to other people for a living.”

“Astute observation. I do not have any tattoos visible or otherwise.” Taehyung kisses his teeth, easily opting for a pair reminiscent of chains. You look for judgement, but there’s none in his study of the colorful space, just a curiosity he’s not sure he should breach. “I’ve always wanted one, but I was too scared. Ridiculous but true.” 

“Scared of needles?” 

“At first maybe. Scared of the permanence of it all. It feels like such a big responsibility, to me at least, to decide what to get tattooed and I’ve never gotten to a point where I could just do it.” You think back to pages bound by leather with frightening immediacy, the conviction with which the they screamed at you almost haunting if not for the beauty of it. Chilling in the details of sketches, moments in time grasped so eloquently. A part of you is certainly jealous, but the other part is so irrevocably drawn to depth and desire. “Hey, Taehyung, is Jeongguk still at his shop by chance?”

“Actually I’m supposed to be meeting him for ice cream after this so he might already be there.” He pulls his device from his jacket, squinting at the screen, thumb gliding in swiftness. “You guys should come!”

“Oh we don’t wanna—”

“I’m in, I’ve been craving a good scoop,” Jimin leaves no room for disagreement, his limbs already at full speed to hurry cleaning his station. “We don’t have any clients and Namjoon is out of town for the day, so I think we’re good to close up. Plus, you can tell Jeongguk you’ll take him on.” 

“I never said I would,” You slide back into your jacket, tucking your limbs into the sleeves. The sky has darkened significantly since the dusting of rays that splashed your skin as you sprawled the grass barely an hour earlier. 

“You never said you wouldn’t.” The two are like stooges, already mastering the collaborative effort to challenge you. 

“Have fun with your ice cream, I’m, hopefully, going home to a heated apartment.” 

~*~

Jin has been talking to Jeongguk since he entered, the recognition of the new young entrepreneur on the strip catching his attention without pause. He’s a nice guy, his energy something Jeongguk would appreciate on any given day, but he was hoping for a moment of collection before Taehyung arrived. 

He’s stuck on a blur, the low heat of his skin and the canals of his ears, yearning for the vibration of laughter and soft words spoken beneath the breeze. It was easy and good, an hour lost, an hour found. He would’ve laid there in the grass for hours after your departure were in not for the chill that crept in so easily without you beside him. 

He wonders if it was a mutual feeling or if your reaction was just polite, a business tactic. No. Not you, you’re not the type to pretend, he knows even if he doesn’t know. Your sincerity was like a sickness, spilling from your every crevice, pouring out with your every phrase. He’s sure even you don’t notice the significant way you carry yourself, impossible to turn away from. 

“Hey, Jin, talking Jeongguk’s ear off I see.” Jeongguk breaks his stare from where it concentrated on the ink already eating his skin, Jimin standing over the booth with Taehyung chuckling beside him. “Maybe give him a break and take out order?” 

“There’s a counter, Park Jimin, and—” Jin squints in the direction of the counter, a small line waiting for their treats of the frozen variety, though not many people are keen for the cold in the midst of winter. “—yup there’s definitely someone up there waiting just for you.” 

“Ha ha, leave him alone, Jin, his mind is already occupied plenty.” Jin slides from the booth, Jimin immediately taking his place, Taehyung sliding in after him. 

Jin feigns reluctance when Jimin recites his order, all around friendlier when Jeongguk and Taehyung do the same. Jimin turns his attention to the other side of the booth when Jin sidles off, already choosing his next target. “Where’s your head at?” 

“Hm?” 

“We just talked to Y/n, I hear your meeting went well, prospects are high. She seems interested,” Taehyung’s speech is backed with encouragement, Jeongguk’s lip quivering, but winning the fight against his impending smile, intent on not giving himself away too quickly. 

“She said she’d think about it and I’m perfectly okay with that.” He thinks of your promise, the thoughts skirting past the surface for a sign, a signal that the more he feels is exactly the meaning behind your words. His rang true, he would wait and be content. He would be prepared to have you work as his artist and end things there, but the weight in his pocket and the recollection of your eyes doubled in size leaves room for the want of more. 

“She seemed impressed with you,” Jimin adds, chin rested in his palm, reading for reaction. “The fact that she’s considering is a really good sign. For her and for you.” 

“It all just felt really natural,” The two watch as Jeongguk’s eyes glaze over just thinking about the exchange. “Almost like we…” 

He trails, face heating, his thoughts almost betraying him. He’s relieved when a server comes bearing dishes, thanking them aloud with pleasantry and inwardly for saving him from himself. The relief is short lived when two sets of eyes beam at him like he’s an amusement, waiting for him to continue.

“Almost like you…” 

“Nothing, it’s really stupid. She’s really great, I’ll be lucky if she decides that I’m worth it.” He covers lamely, shoving his spoon past his lips, letting creamy vanilla coat his tongue and ease his mind. 

“Trust me,” Jimin mumbles, swallowing his own hefty scoop. “She decided that the moment you sat down.” 

~*~

It’s unclear what brought you to this stool some nights later, half buzzed and wondering if you’ll have to call Jimin to drag you home. Your mind hasn’t completely fogged, liquor light with mercy, heavy consequences no doubt pending for the morning to come. A break, you’d decided, hands and knees stained with product, trying in vain to work the stain from your carpet, the smudge faint but not enough to miss your eye. 

The crowd is surprising, though you wouldn’t know as you don’t often go to the place with the metaphorical bad stuff, your own brand of lunacy dancing in boxes lacing your cabinetry. You recall the draw of drinks from mugs and Jimin off-key when you’re sliding more bills than you prefer across the counter. Moving is without appeal, head to the counter the way to go.

“Hey, you okay?” The voice is familiar, worth the work to lift your head. Jeongguk looks down at you, his hand placed to the bar, eyes wide with concern. 

His own stumbling through the door of the room with the dim lighting and the absurd amount of sports playing in every corner was boredom. Taehyung had plans and he was left alone to the drone of the television, the shop in need of a break from him. The dishes already glistening from his tenth wash despite the lack of use. A spot of dust enough to send him into a frenzy. From Jimin the name of the dive was briefly mentioned, in relation to what he couldn’t say, the topic never picking his brain from the moment it was first spoken. 

Now he’s glad he wasn’t a horrible companion, the sight of you hunched over reason enough for his half listen. He notes your solitude immediately, drawn to the side of the bar rather than the thick of it all, two glasses empty before you. 

“Jeongguk!” Your tone is uneven, eyes looking watered under the lights, your smile brightening in his eyes. He can’t help but to return, lowering into the stool so your faces are level. “I didn’t know you were here.” 

“I just got here actually and I saw you so…” 

“You came for me?” If you were less influenced the words would have remained nothing more than a thought, passing in a sea of others you could never muster courage to speak. Though you’re not sure that a post buzz reflection will make you wish they were any less materialized, the way his features soften like a fertilization for the growth of your thudding heart.

“I—yeah, I came for you. Are you ready to head home?” 

“You don’t know where I live,” You say the words, knowing you’ll go anywhere with him even if he doesn’t. You let him guide you from your stool, his touch soft, never too much. 

“You know, I’ve got a pretty good idea.” 

~*~

He lingers outside of your door, adoring the small struggle you have with lock and key, about to lend a hand when your triumph catches him, arms lifting over your head, turning to him with a smile. “Come on!” 

“You want me to come in?” Taehyung will be home soon and he has no way of explaining that he’s at your place that doesn’t involve some teasing on his best friend’s end of it, though it doesn’t matter when you latch on to the sleeve of his jacket and pull him past the threshold. 

The biggest difference between your place and theirs is the lived-in aspect. He would say that it’s cute, but it’s too simple a word. It seems you prefer mood lighting, the flip of a switch igniting fairies strung to the base of the ceiling. It suits you, who’s already stumbling toward the kitchen expecting that Jeongguk is hot on your trail. The décor is simple, a few paintings on the wall, rugs and cozy furniture. 

“I’m sorry if it’s cold in here, it’s always kind of cold in here,” You mutter, grabbing two mugs and giving life to your kettle. Jeongguk recalls that you were no longer in possession of your space heater, taken by Taehyung and himself and still unreturned. He debates running over to grab it, but your hand once more on his wrist, drags him to the sofa erasing the thought of walking out of that door. “Thanks for bringing me home, I promise I’m not that wasted. You don’t have to be so nervous.”

“No, I’m not nervous! Not because you were drinking anyways…” 

“So you are nervous...why?”

“You make me nervous...in a good way!” He’s quick to regroup, noting the fall of your features, hating that it’s because of him. “It’s completely insane, but from the moment I saw you I…” 

“Me too.” Jeongguk’s previously averted gaze rushes to meet you, already staring back. He doesn’t need to ask what you mean, confident that what you feel is what he feels. Confident that it doesn’t matter how insane it may sound. “It’s so crazy, but when I saw you yesterday something just clicked and I thought maybe it’s because you’re ridiculously attractive but then we talked and it was so natural.” 

“I’m glad it wasn’t just me,” He takes a chance, hand sliding to yours, resting against your thigh. Your fingers tangle without stutter, the position meant to be, so full of warmth and understanding. “I saw you with Jimin a few days ago, I couldn't stop staring."

So long is spent staring, enjoying each other and the mutual affection that's like an aura engulfing you.

"Where exactly do we go from here?” Jeongguk tugs at his bottom lip, another quality that fills you with warmth. 

“Why are you opening a tea shop?” 

“What?” 

“We’re practically strangers, I don’t even know your last name actually. So, if there’s some weird predestined love at first sight phenomenon going on here, I’d like to know everything about you before we proceed.” You click, smile a contagious thing, one that Jeongguk would be remiss not to embrace wholeheartedly. “So why a tea shop?” 

“Well first, my last name is Jeon—”

“Jeon Jeongguk…” He watches you test the words against your tongue. “Cute. You’re cute.” 

“Anyways,” He blushes. “I’ve always loved making tea. I learned it at a young age and then I started experimenting and decided that this is what I wanna do. I figured focusing on boba would draw more people in, but I also wanna expand on what I already know.” 

“Well if anything, Hoseok will be there at least twice a day.”

“What about you?” 

“I think I can make time, though you are really out of the way I might not be able to swing it.” 

“I’ll pick you up, or better yet I can just bring it right to you,” He offers, amused but truthful. “No, but I mean how did you get into tattooing, and how did you learn tebori?” 

“Ah…” Your eyes find one of the frames hanging nearest the window, a landscape that Jeongguk can barely make out aside from the distance of neon. “Well, I was studying abroad actually, in Japan. I was an art history major and I didn’t really know what I wanted to do so I thought getting away would help me figure it out.”

You think often about the day when your current occupation seemed so foreign, your adolescence always filled with imaginings of galleries under curation, days filled with frames and packed schedules. 

“One of my classmates convinced me to go out with her one night because she wanted a tattoo and I wanted one too, so I didn’t really see why I shouldn’t go. She got hers first, a flower I think, and while I was watching the artist I was just blown away by the technique.” 

“Tebori?”

“Mmhm, of course I’d seen the regular ink and needle, but this just seemed to me something on a deeper level and I fell in love with it. It’s probably the most insane thing I’ve done to date, but I finished my degree abroad and stayed in Japan to learn and now I’m here.”

“Why’d you come back?”

“It just felt like it was time...sometimes I wish I hadn’t or that I could go back to visit. Like it’ll remind me what it felt like in the beginning, make me feel like less of a failure. I'd actually get my tattoo.” 

“You’re not a failure, we just have patches sometimes. You’ll figure it out, we’ll figure it out.” The steam of the kettle startles from the moment you're quick to exit to the stove, mulling words and recovering from the embarrassment of exposure over the steaming water. “You know, I don’t have tea so I hope hot chocolate is okay?”

“It’s perfect,” Jeongguk accepts his mug and the packet of mix, stirring it in time with his breathing. He’s left to the obvious blushing of his cheeks, musing his circumstance, sharing a drink with the perfect anomaly. He’s ignored the constant stream of vibration from his pocket, no interest in removing himself from the cozy bubble. “So this place is pretty shitty, I would know and I’ve only lived here about a week. Why do you stay here?” 

“You live here? Wait...you and Taehyung are roommates, duh sorry. I’m still trying to catch up.” 

“Yeah, thanks for the space heater by the way. I’m pretty sure I would’ve given in the first night if I had to sleep in the cold.”

“Ha! No worries, sometimes I do give in and I stay over at Jimin’s place. But I’m just not ready to let this place go yet, I guess. It’s not great, but change is hard and I’ve been here for so long.” 

You're close along the counter, space invaded without invitation, gravitation controlling your every step. The rest of the night follows suit, closeness and appeal. You enjoy words and laughter, ignoring the possibility of the responsibility the next day alludes. 

Somehow you find yourselves in your bed, faces close and bodies tucked beneath the thick duvet. You're glad the heat isn’t working tonight, Jeongguk wrapped around you like a boa, slowly falling into the depths of unconsciousness, the conversation lulling with each random topic. Your throat is strained from laughter and your brain is filled with more than it thought possible. 

Inches are now centimeters and you’re snails inching toward the finish, certain but uncertain if the light of day will change the result of your exchange. 

The morning following you wake much the same as you slept, tangled, breaths mingling between. Jeongguk is still snoring, blissfully unaware of the authoritative knock echoing from your front door. Hands pushing at your eyes, feet tingling against the cold flooring, you swing the door with an annoyance you’re prepared to unleash before you’re met with Taehyung. 

His eyes are half frantic, neck craning to see around you. 

“Taehyung?”

“Hey, I’m sorry to bother you, but have you seen Jeongguk? I’ve been trying to reach him since last night and he’s not answering.” 

“O-oh...um he’s here, let me get him,” You mumble, allowing Taehyung, his eyes softening and features squinted, to step inside. You leave him standing in the living room, ignoring the knowing smirk, head bowed as you step into your bedroom. 

You regret the gentle shove of his shoulders, and the hushed “wake up” that slowly but surely draws Jeongguk from his sleep. He looked peaceful, full of youth with his eyes stapled and breath steady rising and falling. His eyes are puffy when he raises, confusion laced features recalling that he wasn’t in his own home. 

His arm extends, patting your side of the bed, unaware that you were the reason for premature awakening. “Hey sleepy head.”

“What are you doing up?” He finds your hand, grabbing hold in an attempt to pull you back to bed. Though you would be more than willing, Taehyung is sure to have heaps to say already, no reason to add fuel to the fire already blazing in his pupils. 

“Taehyung is here,” That catches his attention, eyes darting to the door half open. “He said he’s been trying to reach you. He’s waiting in the living room, I’m sorry if you didn’t want him to know you’re here, I panicked.” 

“No it’s fine,” He assures, sliding from the bed, the same chill that ate you catching him with bare feet. You follow him back out to Taehyung, who’s taken it upon himself to peruse the space, currently examining the coffee table with it’s day old mugs. “Hey, I’m sorry I didn’t get back to you.” 

Looking between the two of you, your hand finding habit at Jeongguk’s shoulder, he shrugs. “No biggie, just thought you might be in a ditch or something. Turns out I was very wrong, so I’ll leave you to it.” 

“I’ll just come with you, I should probably shower and change. I’ve got some stuff to take care of before the opening. I can’t believe it’s only a couple months away.” You drop your hand, leaving him to it, an awkward and unsure feeling settling in your stomach. It’s clear that Jeongguk is a bit embarrassed, not that you’re own emotions haven’t caused the sting of a heat in your cheeks. You wait for him to follow Taehyung, who’s already waved goodbye, hands in his pockets as he stalks away. 

Jeongguk isn’t so quick, turning to your ground bound pupils, fingers drifting to the trace of your jaw and nudging you to greet him. You’re taken by the lack of hesitation when his lips meet yours in kiss, short and sweet, altogether unexpected. “I’ll see you later, yeah?” 

“I wouldn’t miss it,” You coo, fingers brushing his cheek gingerly, rewarded with one more peck before Taehyung is groaning in the hallway, effectively tearing Jeongguk from you to catch up. 

~*~

You’re warm, for the first time in a long time you’re warm, from your chest to your veins, head and toes, and it’s all because of Jeon Jeongguk. His departure wasn’t the last of him, the next few months full of meetings planned and spontaneous, your phone alight with too many notifications, every one taken in with the same adoring smile and your own obsessed response. 

You would stop by Hoseok’s blessing him with a coffee, happily listening to his rambling about the horrendous new flavor Jin had him and Yoongi test the other night. Across the street you could just see Jeongguk through the window, lips pulled in concentration, pen scribbling on the pad in front of him. Though it was cute, you couldn’t help but to attempt to cheer him up, his eyes immediately finding you after he’s read the little note sent to his phone. 

You would be sick with yourself if you were the one to witness the affection radiating from your expanse, but you couldn’t care less how many times Jimin fake gags or the small lecture you endure when Yoongi delivers flowers later in the day. You hold on to the feeling and you hope that it feels like this all the time. 

“What are you working on?” Namjoon steps into your office, no other reason than his own boredom swallowing him whole, much like the cushions when he collapses into your sofa. 

“Just some of Jeongguk’s sketches…” You noticed rather quickly the familiar book resting on your bedside table after your first night together, no doubt placed by Jeongguk before sleep could find him. You spent the morning getting to know his art better, so you could try to make it exactly what he wanted. You only just got around to transferring the sketches to your own notebook, hoping to have something to show him at his opening. 

“He’s really good for you. I haven’t seen you this eager about sketching in a while.” 

“You think so?” 

“What, you don’t?”

“No, I just...I don’t want you to think I’m completely insane for jumping into this so suddenly. I mean, I think it’s insane that I could be so completely sure about someone so quickly and I think the world of you, so I don’t want you to be disappointed…” 

He laughs, whole hearted laughter fills your office and you’re not positive how you should respond. Your hands are unsteady on your pen, ready for him to completely crush your soul, back to the same girl standing in his doorway all those years ago. 

“Honestly, you give me way too much credit.”

“What do you mean?”

“The night that you showed up, I was wondering how I was even gonna keep this place open. The building wasn’t the most friendly looking, most people walked right past, the outside giving them the impression that the inside was just as decrepit,” He sighs, head supported by the arm of the chair, eyes holding the ceiling in place. “When you showed up I was seconds away from telling you to get lost, then you handed me your sketches and you looked so hopeful. You were my last chance, so really I should be thanking you for being so spontaneous, especially if it means you’re happy.” 

“Wow, why didn’t you ever say anything?” 

“I didn’t want to put more pressure than you already put on yourself. Plus, it doesn’t really matter now, does it? We’re doing pretty good, and that’s what’s important.” 

The revelation is a motivation, your grip on the pencil tightening, strokes light and even on the page. Namjoon doesn’t say much more, silent inspiration while he falls into slumber, the only reason he ever finds himself meandering into your space. 

“Knock knock,” Jeongguk peers around the corner, your finer flying to your lips, the other gesturing toward Namjoon, dozing peacefully. “Sorry, does he do that a lot?” 

“Oh yeah, he pretends he wants to know what I’m up to then he’s out like a light before I’ve finished speaking.” 

“I’ll have to try it sometime—”

“Watch it,” You warn playfully, sneakily closing your notebook so he can’t see. “What’s up? I figured you would be too busy filling orders for little ole me.” 

“Never, and I want you to try this! I was thinking I could add it to the special menu. I know everyone is into the whole lemonade with boba thing which we do offer but I was trying to make a tea that’s more on the fruity side than the tea side because I know some people are put off by the tea taste, ya know?” He watches you uncomfortably closely, your face trained to be as neutral as possible while flavors explode, traveling to opposing ends of your mouth, battling it out, but ultimately left with no winner. 

“You know, I appreciate the thought and I’m sure if you work on it some more it’ll be perfect but…”

“It’s disgusting.” He finishes for you sighing in defeat, collapsing in the chair across from you. 

“No!” You round the desk, his arms ready to accept your slide into his lap. “It’s not disgusting, it’s just...not quite blended yet.” 

He takes the to-go cup, sipping his own concoction. You wonder if he tried it at all before running over here, his habit of trusting your initial judgement extremely endearing, but unnecessary. It stems only from your admittance that you weren’t the biggest tea drinker and that you’re one of those lemonade with the boba people. His mission became clear, he couldn’t stand to see you walk into his shop knowing that you’ll be leaving with sugared lemons squeezed into juice. He has to make you the perfect tea if it’s the last thing he does.

He was set on making it for the opening, but to no avail, the sign flipped, his employees brewing away, his drop here only partially out of the necessity for his favorite taste tester. “It’s disgusting,” He decides immediately, fighting the urge to spit it back into the cup. “You have to stop being so nice to me, it’s cute, but I want you to yell at me like you yell at Jimin.” 

“I don’t yell at Jimin!” 

“You yell at Jimin all the time, lovingly, but there are voices raised.” Namjoon rubs at his eyes, tugging at the shirt riding at his abdomen. “We goin for tea or what? I swear people are gonna think we’re out of business with how often we close early.” 

"Yeah, can you just give us a minute?" You try your best to be discrete, nodding toward the notebook on your desk. 

"Yeah...Jimin and I will just meet you there." He leaves you, door clicking in his wake and you turn to Jeongguk with a ready grin, eyes wide with excitement.

"Is this one of those things where I should knock everything off of your desk? If so I'm down, but this is a weird time…"

"No! I have a surprise for you." You pull his journal from it's position beneath the stacks of paper on your desk. "You left this at my place your first night over."

"I've been looking for this! I was embarrassed to tell you I lost it, but it turns out you're a klepto." He teases, taking hold of the pages. "So you decided to hold it hostage?"

"I wasn't holding it hostage, I was working on…" You lift your sketchbook, flipping to the appropriate page. "These."

They aren't complete, but you want his first impression and suddenly you understand the tea thing. It's a radically different medium, your shared art actually pending ink on his body, but you don't want to go too far only to disappoint. He leans against the desk, not speaking, just staring, expressionless.

"If you don't like them we can talk about what you want changed, I just tried to make something I thought would fit what you've already got going." 

He finally looks up, eyes glistening, your stomach doing flips. You're too afraid to ask what he's thinking, so you continue to wait, hoping he'll speak up soon and that you didn't insult him with your vision.

"I love them."

"Really? You don't have to worry about hurting my feelings, it's your body you know."

"Really, you're amazing. This is better than I could've hoped and I can't wait until it's permanent." His words are firm with sincerity, notebook laid to the side in favor of pulling you into his arms. "How am I supposed to compete? I can't even make tea for you."

"Relax, your tea is perfectly fine! I just enjoy the occasional lemonade. Come on, we'll go to the shop, you can make me whatever you want and I'll love it."

"Deal, but...I-we have a surprise for you as well."

"For me?"

"Yeah, I was talking with the guys the other day, we were talking about you..."

"You and the guys? This should be good."

"It is, I promise." He produces an envelope from his pocket, no scrawl on the outside, more mystery than you're ready for. “I was thinking about what you said that first night, about wanting to remember what it was like in the beginning.” 

“What did you do?” You tear into the envelope, fingers moving so slowly you fear the skin will catch in the thin edges. What you pull is far from what you imagined, a ticket printed blue for a week’s time. Jeongguk stares at you expectantly, waiting for some form of reaction, but you’re not sure what to say. “This is a plane ticket…” 

“Yeah, to Japan. We want you to go back and we knew you wouldn’t do it unless we planned it for you.” 

“You guys didn’t have to.” 

“We wanted to, I wanted to. The way your eyes lit up talking about that time in your life, I would do anything to give that to you again. So we want you to go to Japan, do something for you.” His lips land on your forehead, breathing you in while you process the unexpected gift. It’s more than you could ever imagine, but there’s a single string, dangling with uncertainty. You figure the only way to eliminate it is to pull full force, risk sounding ridiculous. 

“What about you?” Jeongguk’s face scrunches in confusion, the inquiry the last thing he expected. His thoughts were far from himself, not naive enough to think his mind would be focused anywhere but you while you’re gone, but never thinking it would be a reason you’re unsure about going. “I don’t mean to sound stupid, but I’d miss you too much.” 

“You can call me everyday, any time of day. I’ll be there, you don’t have to worry about me not being here waiting for you.” 

“Or...you could come?” 

“Oh, you want me to? I figured you’d want to do your own thing, not have me weighing you down.” Your arms find his waist, head resting against his chest, giggling at the prospect of Jeongguk being anything more than a comforting presence. 

“Of course I want you to, I wanna show you everything.” 

“I’ll have to figure things out with the shop, but—”

“Oh, wow I’m so selfish. Of course you can’t just drop everything to come with me, I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking.” You shake your head, silently scolding your inconsideration. Jeongguk grabs hold of your shoulders, stopping you mid step, hand halfway to smack your forehead.

“I would love to come, I just have to talk to Taehyung about it. I’m sure he wouldn't mind taking on a little more responsibility. Actually he’ll probably pack my bags for me.” 

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. I’ll probably have to catch a later flight, just to get things taken care of.” He thinks aloud. 

“I think I can manage a few days on my own.” 

“I promise I won’t be long.” 

“I’ll be waiting.” 

And now, we smile. 

[fangirlovestuff]

Butterfly Effect - Steve Rogers x reader

a/n - Hey lovely people! this is for @holylulusworld​​‘s 10,000 followers celebration, congrats!! (even though you have a lot more now lol). the divider is by the amazing @firefly-graphics​. italics are for thoughts / flashbacks, and the first parts are all in chronological order. Enjoy!<3

Summary: The words on Steve’s arm point to the circumstances in which he will meet his soulmate, and they’re very specific, or so he thinks.

Prompt: 11 - soulmate AU

Word Count: ~2,070

Warnings: reader gets a tatoo but basically this is just a huge fluff fest:)

"That's a cute owl you're drawing there."  

These are the words that were imprinted on Steve's arm since the moment he was born. When Steve could finally read, he asked his mother why are the words there.

"These words are very important," Sarah explained. "They are the first words your soulmate will ever say to you."

"What's a soulmate?" asked a confused Steve.

"A soulmate," his mother answered, "is someone you're gonna love very much. They're the person you'd probably choose to spend the rest of your life with. Their soul is connected to yours in inexplicable ways, almost as if they were one and the same. This," she pointed at the words, "is the sign for you to realize when you'll meet them. Somewhere out there, there's someone with the first words you're gonna say to them."

"So I'll be drawing an owl when I meet my soulfriend?" Steve asked.

"It's soulmate, dear. And I guess you probably will."

"And this… soulmate, will they buy me ice cream?" Steve asked hopefully, not quite getting the point.

Sarah giggled at her son. "Yes, I think they will if you'd want that. But also, they would love you so much, and you'll have the most fun in the world with them."

"Was da your soulmate?" Steve asked.

"He is," his mother answered, the smile on her face tinged with a little sadness that Steve hadn't picked up on.

Okay, so two round eyes, and then the body, and I should add some feathers and –

"Mr. Rogers!" the math teacher said sternly. "I haven’t assigned any equations yet, so I would appreciate it if you'd keep your attention on me instead of your notebook, for now."

"Yes, Ms. Williams," Steve replied sheepishly.

"You know you've already met everyone in this class right? No one here is your soulmate," Bucky whispered once their teacher turned back to the board.

"But I still want to get better at it," Steve shrugged defensively. "She's gonna say it's cute, Buck. For that to happen it needs to actually be cute."

"I don't get your whole fuss around soulmates Steve, but whatever. Suit yourself," Bucky rolled his eyes.

"You don't believe in soulmates?" Steve asked.

"Well, I wouldn't strictly say that, it's just… my words are 'watch it, weirdo.' Call me crazy, but I'm not that stoked to find that person," Bucky chuckled.

"Mr. Barnes! Something to share with the rest of us?" Ms. Williams said.

"No Ms. Williams, I'm sorry," Bucky said timidly and Steve snickered.

Steve could draw owls in his sleep if he needed to. Right now, his pencil was sketching over the page, lightly shading the wings of the owl and the –

"Rogers! You're on in five!" the stage manager called out to him.

Steve sighed and snapped his sketchbook shut. He kept hoping that maybe it was one of the girls on tour with him, but so far it wasn't going so well. The government-mandated entertainment had quite enough free time so Steve could draw as many owls as he wanted to in between shows.

He put the notebook aside and slipped on the cowl they had him wear. The Captain was needed on stage.

"So people take art classes… for fun?" Steve asked, puzzled.

"Yeah," Natasha answered. "Lately you're always drawing away in your little notebook, so if you want to, I could help you sign up for a class. Maybe they can teach an old dog some new tricks," she smirked.

"Ha ha," Steve answered dryly. Yet he couldn't help considering the idea.

The thing was, Steve wasn't sure if his soulmate was still out there to be found. You'd think he would feel a difference, some indication if his soulmate was dead, but when he went out of the ice, Steve felt nothing different. There was still a part of him that was hoping that maybe, just maybe, fate planned this. That his soulmate was still out there.

"That's a great color scheme, Steve," the instructor said, and Steve nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Thanks," he smiled, albeit a tad shakily.

This was the fifth class Steve took this month, and yet, no luck. He wasn't even drawing an owl, and yet the start of that sentence made him jump as if he didn't have super… well, everything.

But that doesn't mean he was giving up. His tattoo was still in place, even after all of these years, it hadn't faded. So he had to believe he could still find his soulmate.

These times were a lot more different than his. People here weren't always inclined to live by that philosophy of "soulmates". Some people chose to simply disregard that and find someone they loved regardless. Steve admired that, but he couldn't say he understood. If you're offered your perfect partner, why walk out of that?

"It's called instant gratification," Nat chuckled when he raised that question to her. "People like to have what they want as soon as possible. Besides, some people don't believe it's real, or don't believe it'll work for them. So, they take matters into their own hands."

Steve was more patient than the average person. He waited decades in ice, what's a few more years to find his soulmate?

Bucky had found his soulmate. Steve couldn't believe it.

Sure, he was happy for Bucky. When he came back today from the store with nothing but a small slip of paper, Steve had half a mind to smack him upright the head for not getting anything. Probably forgot his wallet.

But when Bucky showed him the paper he read the words scribbled onto it – "call me, weirdo, xx" and a phone number, Steve pulled Bucky into a tight hug, patting him on the back.

"Congrats, pal," he smiled.

Bucky beamed. Yes, Bucky Barnes, the terrifying Winter Soldier was beaming and his eyes were shining like a high-schooler in love. And Steve wished that could've been him.

He really was happy for Bucky. That's the thing – this was a good thing. Besides from his best friend finding the love of his life, it also meant that Steve's soulmate is almost definitely out there. But he couldn't help feeling a spark of resentment deep inside of him. It made him feel guilty, but he couldn't help the bitter thought that Bucky was never too keen on finding his soulmate while Steve did everything in his power to find them. And yet, Bucky found his while Steve's still in the dark.

So, to get out of his own head a little, Steve decided to go paint in the park.

To be honest, it was a wonder that Steve hadn't gotten awfully tired of drawing by now. But he still loved it, loved the quiet it cultivated in his mind.

Steve set up a canvas and looked around. People weren't noticing him, busy in their own endeavors. He almost started drawing an owl out of instinct, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Steve wanted to forget about the whole soulmate business for a while and just draw.

He saw a butterfly fly over and land on a nearby bush. Steve focused on the butterfly, trying to remember as much as he can. The rest he can improvise. The butterfly fluttered its wings for a few seconds before flying away.

Steve started drawing the butterfly. Once he had the pencil sketch, he started filling it in with the paints he had brought. He started with the little circles on its wings, filling them in so the shade will be just right, and he was about to move on to the rest on the wings when –

"That's a cute owl you're drawing there."

"It's a butterfly," Steve turned around, puzzled, before realizing what you had just said to him.

Your mouth opened in a gentle gasp. Your hair and clothes were a little messy from your long day at work. And at that moment, when you were caught completely off guard, Steve first met you. You were the most beautiful thing he has ever laid eyes on, and he was an artist. He stared at you in utter shock while you returned him a similar look.

"Are you sure you wanna do this?" your friend asked, sitting next to you with a worried look.

"I'm tired of looking for my soulmate. Do you know how hard it is to make conversation about butterflies?" you looked back at her. "I want to do this," you told her.

The tattoo artist came closer. "Okay ma'am, you wanted a simple butterfly, right?"

"Yes," you answered decisively. "On my left wrist." Your right hand had your words on it. "It's a butterfly." Maybe if you had a tattoo your soulmate would see it, would find you.

You closed your eyes and braced for what came next.

You weren't sure about this blind date thing, but why not. You trusted your friend that she set you up with a nice guy, at least.

You set up to meet in a park, and from there walk to a nearby restaurant. Right when the guy showed up, there was a butterfly next to you.

"What’s that?" you asked quickly, pointing towards it.

Your date turned his head to look, but by the time he did the butterfly was already flying away. "I don't know, it was probably a bug or something."

You stifled your groan of disappointment. At least you'd get a dinner out of this.

You and Steve were staring at each other in amazement. Finally, you were the one to speak up. "You're Steve Rogers," you said, frowning in disbelief.

"And you're my… soulmate," he returned the same disbelieving look.

You introduced yourself quickly, smiling at him timidly when you finished.

"So, you wanna get ice cream or something?" Steve asked, unsure of what exactly to do. But apparently he said exactly the right thing, because your face lit up.

"Right now though? You're in the middle of your painting and I wouldn't wanna –"

"It doesn't matter," Steve said quickly and stashed the canvas and paints underneath a bench nearby. "No one passes here anyways," he shrugged. "Until today," he smiled and you giggled.

You made your way to an ice cream shop across the street from the park, walking side by side.

"So, what is the great Captain America doing drawing owl-looking butterflies in a local park?" you asked, smiling.

"I was just looking to clear my head a little," Steve said dismissively. "To be honest, the fact that you didn't find me drawing an actual owl is very ironic, looking back," Steve chuckled. "I spent pretty much my entire life drawing owls, attending painting classes, anything I could to find you," his gaze met yours and he smiled softly. "And I find you in a random park while drawing a butterfly."

"Don't underestimate nature's camouflage," you chuckled. "And hey, you think that's ironic? Butterflies are so scarce I got this," you rolled up your left sleeve a little, revealing your butterfly tattoo.

Steve's eyes widened. "It's beautiful," he automatically reached out to trace the lines on your arm, then withdraws his arm when he understands what he's doing. "It's not as beautiful as you," he says with a smile on his face.

You avert your eyes to the ground in front of you. "Thank you," you bashfully say.

You and Steve got your ice cream, and you exchanged plenty of stories of your adventures in search of each other, most of which were devastating when they happened but when you look back at them now, they were actually pretty funny.

"I hope I can see you again," Steve said when it was getting a little late.

He looked so hopeful, but the question in itself made you want to laugh at the obviousness of the answer. Instead, you rose onto your tiptoes, and planted your lips on his soft ones in a sweet kiss.

Once you parted you took a napkin and wrote down your number. "I sure hope to see you soon," you smiled.

"I'll call you, butterfly," Steve grinned and you beamed at the nickname.

And that night you both went home with huge smiles smeared across your faces. Finally, your quest to find your soulmate was at an end, and you could start a new journey, together.

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[127-mile]

HE WAS A SKATER BOY. she said see you later boy.

PAIRING: Skater Sicheng x female reader | Skater Shotaro x female reader.

GENRE: Skateboard, best friends | Fluff, angst.

WARNINGS: Mention of past injuries, strong language, accident, blood, violence, hospital, Jaehyun is a massive asshole, Yuta saves the day.

PLOT: You didn't think that by accompanying your best friend on his first day of work at the local skateboard store you would end up watching skaters fight during an illegal race.

WORD COUNT: +4.1k.

A/N: This is part of the sports collab hosted by @lucas-wongs | this is also inspired by sk8 the infinity that you do not need to know to read.

"Can you come with me?"

You frown when you hear Shotaro's voice, and when you turn your head, you find him in the doorframe, his arms crossed against his chest. Shotaro doesn't live here, and last you heard he didn't have a spare key to enter your apartment.

"I want to ask you how you got in, but I'm not sure I want to hear your answer," you mumble as you get up from your desk chair, stretching your arms above your head. "and why do you want me to come? It's your first day on the job, you don't need a chaperone."

He pouts, letting his arms fall to his sides. "I am stressed, this is my first job!" he says, like it's obvious, and you roll your eyes. "Please?"

"If I come, you better pay for the pizza for the next movie night, okay?" he nods, suddenly regaining his smile, and you grab your jacket. "If your boss, or your coworkers laugh at you because you needed me, I don't want to hear you complain."

"Do you think they're going to laugh at me?" he asks in a small voice, and you heave a sigh, you should have turned your tongue seven times in your mouth before speaking.

"If they laugh at you, it'll be my job, as your best friend, to beat them up, okay?" he laughs softly, and you push him out of the doorframe to exit your room. "Okay, I really need to know, how did you get into the apartment?"

He shrugs his shoulders. "You didn't close the balcony door, so I walked in through there." you found another reason to look for a new apartment.

"Come on, let's go or you'll be late." you put on your shoes, and you leave the apartment after taking the time to close the balcony door, you don't want a stranger to suddenly want to visit your apartment after seeing Shotaro do it.

Shotaro retrieves his skateboard outside the apartment complex, and also his backpack that he left in plain sight. "You have to stop trusting everyone, Shotaro, someday someone is going to steal your things."

"You live in the most peaceful and secure part of town, I have nothing to fear." that's what he believes.

The shop where Shotaro was hired is only ten minutes from your apartment, and when you approach it, you stop walking, thrusting your hands into the pockets of your jacket. "Can you go on your own, or do I have to go inside with you?"

He lowers his head, and he plays with the hem of his sweatshirt. "Can you come in with me, and pretend you want to buy something, so I don't look silly?"

If you knew this is the way your day would be, you wouldn't have asked your boss to give you a day off. Having to deal with unpleasant customers is certainly better than having to pretend to buy something from a store where nothing interests you.

"It's going to cost you a lot Shotaro, and it's only for today, okay?" he nods, and he walks over to the bay window.

"You don't have to be afraid, there is no one in the shop." it's true, on the other side of the glass, you can't see anyone. Which is no wonder, even though the store opened over six years ago, the customers aren't regular, so you wonder how it stays open.

You push open the door, and a doorbell rings, and your gaze lands on the counter almost immediately. "Hello?" a young man has his arms resting on the counter, and his face nestled in between. His breathing is slow and regular. He is sleeping.

Shotaro closes the door behind him, and walks over to the counter. "Excuse me?" he asks in a small voice, and when the man doesn't react, he gently pushes his shoulder. "Excuse me? I'm Shotaro, I'm the new employee."

"What is happening?" the young man asks in a hoarse voice full of sleep, raising his head. He rubs his eyes, yawning at length. "Can I help you?"

Shotaro is moving from leg to leg, clearly nervous. "I am Shotaro, I just got hired."

The young man gets up from his stool which scrapes against the tiles, and he shakes Shotaro's hand. "Oh yeah, the boss told me he found someone else. But from what you can see, we don't really have any clients today, so I don't know what I'm going to do with you."

Shotaro takes a deep breath, and he straightens up a bit. He wants to be confident in front of his colleague. "I can do the cleaning, whatever you don't want to do, I love skateboarding, so being here is enough, even if I'm not doing anything." he basically says he doesn't mind being paid for doing nothing. Understandable.

From where you stand, a little back, you can see the shadow of a smile on the young man's face. "Do you skate?" Shotaro nods. "I was afraid the boss hired someone who didn't know anything about skateboards, so welcome, I'm Sicheng!"

"Pleased to meet you." Shotaro says, and Sicheng finally seems to notice your presence, since you meet his gaze.

"Do you need anything?"

You open your mouth, but no sound comes out, luckily, Shotaro comes to your aid. "I was a little afraid to come, so I asked her to come with me." Sicheng hums, but he doesn't comment.

"You want to stay?" he asks you, and you shrug your shoulders.

"Yeah."

And that's how you started to spend your days off, and your weekends in the skateboard shop.

When you see Shotaro talking with clients, advise them about a skateboard, you tell yourself that he was born to do that, he is a natural. You can't remember the last time you saw him smile so much, and you wonder if his jaw hurts at the end of the day. You like to see your best friend like this.

As for Sicheng, he is interesting.

There are days when he barely speaks, when he answers your questions with grunts that make you laugh, and there are days when it's impossible to silence him. He's nice, he's caring with Shotaro, he always makes sure he feels good and comfortable with a client. And he doesn't hesitate to kick some of them out for asking silly questions.

You still don't know much about skateboarding, but you could spend hours watching Sicheng build a skateboard from start to finish.

A bit like today.

You are sitting on a wooden table where skateboard wheels are strewn about, sketches of boards are balled up on the floor, and on the shelves, and Sicheng is leaning over a workbench, figuring out why the board's wheels stop rolling.

"The wheels are round, they shouldn't stop rolling, don't you think so?" you ask by grabbing one of the sketches that you smooth out. It's an extravagant model, and you remember the client who asked for it. Red hair, red nail polish, the tattoo of a rose, and a bright smile.

"Do you think I don't know?" he mumbles, and you laugh softly, it's so easy to annoy him when he is working. Maybe that's the only reason you don't get bored to death when you're locked in the back room with him.

And to be honest, he is not ugly to look at.

"Maybe there's gravel stuck in the bearings?"

Sicheng sits up, and he turns to you with a frown. "How do you know about the bearings?"

You stick your tongue out. "I listen to you when you speak, Sicheng."

He smiles softly, and goes back to his work. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him picking up some sort of toothbrush to clean between the bearings, and as you predicted, some gravel falls on the workbench. "See? I should be paid for this."

"We have five clients a month, do you really think I can give you money for a simple advice?" he asks with a sigh, and you shrug your shoulders.

"The shop is still open, so your boss has enough money for that, and to pay you and Shotaro."

"I can pay you in gratitude, if you want." you chuckle, it is not with gratitude that you are going to pay your rent, but you accept. Next time you won't give him advice.

"I wanted to ask you, are you and Shotaro free tonight?" he asks, sitting down on the workbench before taking the board on his lap to spin the wheels.

"I am free, and as far as Shotaro is concerned, I have no idea." you answer by tilting your head. "Why?"

"You don't live together?" he narrows his eyes.

"No? Why would I be living with him?"

Sicheng is biting his lower lip, but rather than answering your current question, he prefers to answer your previous one. "I'm participating in a race tonight, and I trust you enough to get you there now."

"What does trust have to do with a race?" you ask. "Is this an illegal race?"

Sicheng is watching you like it's the most obvious thing. "Duh! Have you ever heard of skateboard races?" you shake your head. "They're organized by a rich man who we don't know anything about except his nickname. There's nothing to win, but it's fun to go there. You can meet some pretty cool people."

"I'll come, if I don't risk ending up in jail." Sicheng laughs, swinging his head back, but he bumps into the wall, which makes you laugh heartily. "How do you stand on a skateboard if you bump into a wall so easily?"

This time it's his turn to stick your tongue out. "I'll ask Shotaro."

You get off the table, and you go back to the shop where Shotaro is. He's sitting on the counter, watching a documentary about Tony Hawk on the television. "I see you are working very hard, it's nice to see."

He jumps, but he smiles when his gaze meets yours. "There's nothing to do, and Sicheng doesn't like me to be in the back of the store when he's working." and he is right, because Shotaro asks so many questions that Sicheng has trouble concentrating. The last time he cut his palm deep enough that you had to drive him to the emergency room for stitches.

"Sicheng asked if we would like to accompany him to a race tonight." you say, and Shotaro pauses the documentary.

"A skate race?" you nod your head. "Oh my god yes!"

You roll your eyes, Shotaro is adorable when he's excited, because he almost vibrates. "It's illegal, so we risk ending up in jail, don't smile too much."

"Watching an illegal race, and ending up in jail? That would take two things off my list of things to do before I die."

"See, the kid knows how to live!" you hear the back door shut behind Sicheng, and he rests his chin on your shoulder. "You'll see, we'll have fun!"

The way to the start line of the race is an adventure in itself. The car cannot drive on the steep road, and anyway, it is too crowded for you to be able to drive without taking the risk of running over someone.

"Do you do this regularly?" you ask, taking a deep breath, to avoid showing Sicheng that you are out of breath and that you regret having accepted his invitation.

Shotaro on the other hand looks like a child in a Christmas village. He looks at everything with wide, interested eyes, and a blinding smile. If you could, you would pinch his cheeks.

"Every weekend, sometimes twice a week, it depends on the organizer." he responds by shrugging his shoulders, tightening his fingers on the edge of his skateboard so that his knuckles turn white.

"And have you ever met him? The organizer?" Sicheng shakes his head.

"Never, he comes very rarely, but he has set up cameras everywhere so he can watch the skateboarders." you don't know if it's smart, or creepy.

When you get to the end of the trail, you fold your arms across your chest looking around. There are a lot of people, like a lot. You see hair of all colors, people of all ages, and it's nice.

"Sicheng!" the young man turns and his smile disappears when his gaze falls on a skateboarder. "I didn't think you would come, I heard you were way too busy taking care of an empty store."

Sicheng sighs. "Jaehyun, what are you doing here? I thought you couldn't skate anymore." Jaehyun's gaze falls on you, then on Shotaro before sliding down on the board he has just placed on the ground.

"Oh, did you bring some friends? That's good. Do you skate?" he asks Shotaro who nods vigorously. "Do you want to participate in the race?"

Sicheng opens his mouth to say something, but Shotaro is faster than him to answer. "I don't know, can I?" Jaehyun nods, smirking. "Oh my god, yes!"

"You're new here, so I'll race you, don't worry, I'm nice on the track." he winks at you, and turns on his heel before disappearing into the crowd.

You turn to Shotaro. "Are you crazy? You've never skated on this kind of road, you're going to get hurt!"

It is Sicheng's turn to speak. "You can't race him, he's a savage, he's going to send you into the background from the start to make sure he'll win!"

Shotaro shrugs his shoulders. "It's a good opportunity to try it out on the road, isn't it? And why would he do that, he's going to be in trouble if he hurts me on purpose."

Sicheng sighs. "You don't understand Shotaro. If he hurts you on purpose there won't be any consequences for him. It's an illegal race, so if something happens, if you need to be sent to the hospital , you will be the one in trouble, they won't give a shit if you mention Jaehyun."

"Oh." you put your arm on Shotaro's shoulder, who looks up at you.

"It's okay, Shotaro, you can train on a normal road, Sicheng must have places he likes to go, right?" Sicheng nods.

"I'm going to go for a walk, see if I don't see someone from the skate park." Shotaro whispers, and it's his turn to disappear into the crowd. Maybe you should hold him back, but you don't want to force him to stay if he's angry.

"Who is this Jaehyun?" you ask Sicheng who is approaching you so that he can speak without having to yell above the hubub.

"Jaehyun started skateboarding when he was very young, we actually met like that. It's just that he takes racing way too seriously, and he won't hesitate to push someone from the side of the road if that can allow him a victory. He is not afraid of anything, except defeat. He had an accident a few months ago, and we all thought it was the end of his career, but from what I just saw, it wasn't true."

It's not reassuring, you think, biting the inside of your cheek. "Have you ever raced against him?"

Sicheng laughs coldly. "Yeah. All I remember from the race is waking up in a hospital bed with my elbow and collarbone broken."

You understand why he told Shotaro not to race against him, and you are grateful to him for that.

"Come on, I'll show you around."

To avoid getting lost in the crowd, Sicheng takes your hand in his, and he intertwines your fingers. His hand is warm, and it's pretty nice.

He shows you the places where he fell, where he split his cheek, where he broke his wrist and the fingers of his left hand, and each time you can't help but laugh at the dramatic way he tells his stories. "You'll end up falling apart if you keep racing."

"I know it, my friends all tell me, but it's all I've got. It's the only thing I know how to do, where I'm good at." it’s something you don’t believe. You spent enough time with him to know that he is an artist, and that he wielded the tools like no one else. He has so much more than just his skateboard.

"You're wrong, you're-" you're cut off when a crackling sounds through the speakers is heard, and you turn your head towards Sicheng.

“We have the first participants in tonight's race! Jaehyun, a regular we never thought would ever come back, and a new kid, Shotaro!”

"Shit!" Sicheng exclaims, and he starts to run. At first you are frozen in place, but suddenly fingers are circling your wrist and you are pulled by Sicheng. "Come on, we have to stop him!"

Unfortunately with the people it's hard to navigate through the crowds, and before you even get to the starting track, a whistle blows, and the two boys set off.

"Stop the race!" Sicheng says to the young woman holding the whistle, and she shakes her head.

"No can do, sorry."

Your heart is beating so hard in your chest, that you wonder if it will fall at your feet, and Sicheng is not better. He is unable to stand still as he looks at one of the many screens that show the different places Shotaro will skate by.

You dig your fingernails into the palms of your hands without even realizing it, it's only when Sicheng gasps that you lower your gaze. You broke the skin, and blood is covering the tips of your fingernails. "It's going to be fine, calm down." he says, holding one of your hands.

"What is he doing?" someone exclaims with a mixture of surprise and indignation.

You look at the screen, and your eyes widen. Jaehyun and Shotaro are side by side, and Jaehyun is trying to knock him off his skateboard. "We have to do something."

When you don't get a response, you turn around, and you notice that Sicheng has disappeared. You stand on your tiptoes, and you see him running on the track before hopping on his skateboard.

Suddenly, what you feared is happening.

Shotaro loses his balance, and he falls off his skateboard. A fall is nothing, he could get away with a few bruises, but unfortunately at full speed it's a different story.

Shotaro tries to catch himself, but the way his wrist twists makes you nauseous. His wrist should not be bent like this. His head bangs against the asphalt, and your mouth opens with a silent scream. You have to help him, but for that you need your legs to obey you.

You shake your head, and when you regain the mobility of your legs, you start to run. You don't know if Sicheng saw the accident, all you know is you have to find Shotaro, and get him to the hospital as soon as possible.

When you get to Shotaro, he's still on the ground, unconscious. Sicheng and Jaehyun ​are a meter or two away.

"You bastard!" Sicheng says, and Jaehyun does nothing but laugh. He must have tripped, because his skateboard is nowhere to be seen.

"This is how it works, Sicheng!" Jaehyun responds with a smirk. "And why are you reacting like that anyway, you did it too, a few times if I remember correctly."

"Not at full speed, and in a bend! It's way too dangerous! You could have killed him!" Sicheng walks up to Jaehyun, and you don't need to see his face to know that he looks threatening, and that he's ready to hit Jaehyun, to make him pay for hurting Shotaro.

If he does, he will be in trouble, and you don't want that.

"Sicheng, we have to take him to the hospital!" Sicheng seems to notice your presence, as he turns his back on Jaehyun. A very bad idea, if you ask me, since Jaehyun grabs Sicheng's skateboard, and lifts it up high, probably about to knock it down on the back of Sicheng's head.

"Behind you!" you scream, and Sicheng falls to his knees, in time to dodge the blow that would certainly have caused massive damage.

"You're going to pay for this Jaehyun, and I promise you'll never get on a skateboard again!" Sicheng growls, and he joins you on all fours to avoid getting hit once more. He knows Jaehyun, he knows he'll try to knock him out at the first opportunity.

"He's bleeding Sicheng, and the car is so far away." you whisper when he's close enough to hear you, your hand resting on Shotaro's cheek. Blood is flowing from his wound to the head, and a tear rolls down your cheek.

"We can't call the ambulances, because everyone will be arrested, including us." then this is not an option. You have to find something else.

"My car is parked right there, I can go get it for you if you want. I'm also going to ask people to open the gates down the track so you don't have to endure the crowds."

You turn your head to the red haired boy who asked Sicheng for the weird skateboard the week before the race. "Please, that would help us tremendously!" you answer, and he disappears.

As promised, he comes back quickly, and he stops the car in front of you. "I'll help you put him in the car." he tells Sicheng who needs a minute to react, but when he does, he puts Shotaro in the backseat, and he sits with him, his head on his knees.

"We'll owe you one." you say, getting behind the wheel.

You drive off the racetrack without a hitch, and after that, it's just a matter of luck. All the lights are green, and there is no one on the road. Perfect.

You stop the car in front of the main door of the hospital, and you go out in a hurry. "I need help!" you say, and two nurses follow you outside. "He fell off his skateboard, hit his head and hasn't regained consciousness since. It's been 15 minutes."

Then it's a total blur.

Shotaro was taken away by several nurses, and you were forbidden to follow them.

It's been over two hours, and you're still sitting in the waiting room, your head resting on Sicheng's shoulder.

"I'm so sorry." he says in a whisper, and you look up at him. "I shouldn't have invited you. I should have known that Jaehyun would be there, and that he would seek to harm me without attacking me directly."

You shrug your shoulders. "You couldn't have known, especially after his accident. You just wanted to please Shotaro by inviting him."

Silence falls, and when the door opens on one of the nurses who took care of Shotaro, you get up from your chair, immediately imitated by Sicheng. "How is he?"

"He is fine." she says with a comforting smile. "The blow to the head was strong, but for some incredible reason he doesn't have a concussion. His wrist is broken, and he's going to have a few bruises. He is going to be just fine, and should be able to leave the hospital tomorrow after one last check up."

A weight slips off your shoulders, and before you know what's going on, Sicheng hugs you for a long, and strong embrace that you didn't know you needed. "Oh thank god."

Shotaro won't be in a race anytime soon, but he'll be getting back on his skateboard before his wrist is even healed.

[seokiloquy]

Bruised Ink - Kageyama Tobio

Soulmate AU: When you write on your skin it appears in the same spot on your soulmates body

Requested (though I changed it a bit to keep it as canon as possible)

Tags/Warnings: GN!Reader, Kageyama being a bit of an airhead, mild swearing

Word Count: 1.7K+

Art club, morning, lunch, and after school. Though admittedly your art club supervisor / English teacher didn’t enjoy seeing an eager face so early in the morning. She, over a matter of days, had gotten used to your silent presence in the corner of the art room as she worked on papers, occasionally asking for your opinion on a topic. 

“See you after school!” you called down the hall, before waving to your aforementioned supervisor who was talking to the art teacher in the corner.

You flicked your uniform jacket off, letting it hang off the top of a chair as you ran to your canvas. The clean paint brushes waited patiently next to the progressing piece of art and your pallet rested next to them, mummified and waiting to let it’s paints feel the air again. You delicately picked at the tape wrapped around the pallet, pulling it off to reveal the chemical smell of acrylics.

You gazed at your painting for a moment, admiring the contrasting muted colours that blended nicely into the slowly fading background. Taking a brush, no larger than the width of your pinky, you reached for a vibrant green and royal blue, ready to dollop small portions onto your pallet. You huffed through your nose as a clump of blue stuck to your fingers. With no paper towel in sight, you kept your mouth shut and rubbed the paint against the back of your opposite arm. 

“You’re going to stain your skin,” your teacher huffed behind you as she walked to her desk, brushing a free hand through her bob cut. “It looks almost like a bad bruise.”

You sighed, picking up your pallet and brush, gently working the bright teal colour you mixed into the layers of your canvas. “Maybe, but if I’m lucky it’ll be gone before any of the other teachers notice just like every other time.”

She gave you a quirked brow sliding into your spinning chair that was tucked into the corner of the room. She grabbed a pen with one hand and sipped on her coffee mug with the other. “What do you mean by that?”

You laughed. “Every time I doodle, draw, paint, or just anything on my skin whatsoever, it’s gone before I see it again.” 

“So your soulmate’s washing it off before class?” she hummed, turning her eyes away from your blocked-out painting and onto the sheets before her.

“I don’t have a tattoo or a red string, so most likely, ya. They probably don’t want to get in trouble. Or maybe they’re in a swim club and don’t even notice it?”

Chuckling she looked up but kept her head down, gifting you the sight of a mischievous look. “Or they could be sweating it all off.”

“How often does a person sweat to get rid of that much ink on a daily basis?”

“There are some dedicated athletes out there.” She shrugged, rubbing the golden tattoo on the back of her hand. “Then again, all soulmate connections are a bit different.

Humming, you turned back to your painting that leaned against the wall. “What are you working on this morning, Ms. Ono?”

Behind you, a page flipped followed by a groan. “First-year English.”

“First-year? I thought you taught second-year English?”

“I did for Sugawara’s class, but I usually teach the first-year.”

You pushed your brush into the canvas a little harder. “Damn, I thought I would get to be in your class.”

“Sorry, kiddo, but you wouldn’t be in my English class anyway. But your Japanese is improving!”

You huffed through your nose. “I’d hope so, the Sugawara’s really aren’t giving me a break.” You studied your canvas and took a step back, looking at how the light bounced off the surface and made the teal look with the less saturated colours.

“Good on them.”

“Don’t encourage it!”

“Kageyama, what happened to your arm?”

The boy’s grown out bowl cut swished as he flipped his arms around turning his head in search before eventually finding the offending colour that had spread into his skin. Twisting his arm, he gave the colour an indecisive look, before poking it his index finger. “Must be a bruise. Probably smacked it when we were setting up the net. Doesn’t hurt though. So hurry up, let’s get started.”

“Why does everyone have to get to school so early,” Sugawara mumbled to himself, pushing the door to the gym open as he ruffled his hair. He spoke louder, “Tanaka, can’t you stop these two?”

“Sorry, dude. But I’m having fun with this. Why are you here so early anyway?”

Sugawara sat down in the doorway, changing his shoes and rolling off his uniform pants to reveal his loose shorts for practice. “(Y/N) has been coming to school early to paint. And my parents said ‘they’ll get lost, you go too’ instead of ‘no, sleep a little longer.’” 

Tanaka huffed through his nose, “Has (L/N) been settling in well?”

“Oh ya. Eichi loves the new company. But now I have to keep up with essentially two siblings instead of one and these two idiots.” The silver-haired boy yawned as he gestured at the two first years that yelled at each other while throwing balls into the air.

Tanaka gets out a gruff chuckle before running into the centre of the gym to join the duo with endless energy.

“Gone again,” you mumbled as you slowly packed up the bento box that Koushi’s mom had prepared for you.

Your arm, which had been covered in paint stains and ink marks across the whole colour spectrum, had been wiped clean. No doubt the work of your soulmate and whatever activity they partook in during their free time. 

Grumbling, you took out your white ink pen and doodled a subtle frowning face on the inner crease of your wrist.

Ms. Ono rose from her seat, patting away invisible dirt that clung to her dark pencil skirt as the warning bell sounded through the speaker system. “Alright, (L/N). I have a class to teach, out you get.” She shuffled hat stacked papers in her hand, pausing for a moment as a look of realization was thrown onto her face. “Oh and, there won’t be art club this evening, so tell the other members too.”

“What? but that’s the best part of my day!”

“Sorry, (L/N) but I can’t be in here all the time.”

You whined, following the English teacher out of the room. Mr. Sato, the art head, walked into the paint-filled classroom as you left. You both gave him a friendly nod, before continuing with your conversation. “What can I do then? I’m not allowed to go home alone.”

Ms. Ono hummed, “Why don’t you sit in on Sugawara’s volleyball practice, you can use it as a figure study and sketch in your notebook.”

“I guess that’s not a bad idea.”

“Well, there you go. Alright, get, to class or you’ll be late.” She stepped into her sunlit classroom, walking straight for her desk with clicking heels.

You left the entryway of class 1-1’s homeroom and started making your way down the hall to your own room in class 1-4. As you weaved through the crowded hall of first years you kept your head up, looking for the nearest tunnel of space, only to get locked against the wall staring into the eyes of an intense schoolmate you were unaware of.

“Uh sorry,” you mumbled, looking away from his pinched brow and sharp eyes that only held your gaze for a moment.

He raised a brow, looking down the hall behind you to his classroom. Saying nothing, he huffed and schooled his expression. Placing the opposite hand on your shoulder, he spun your body to be behind him, switching locations, and continued down the hall. You watched his flat black hair bounce as he turned into class 1-3’s room.

“Well, isn’t he sweaty,” you mumbled to yourself as you made the last few steps into your classroom.

“Koushi, Koushi, Koushi. Are you sure it’s okay for me to sit in?”

“Just don’t encourage any foolishness and it should be fine. We still have to practice.”

You nodded, following your homestay as he led you to his club’s gym, rambling about his teammates.

“Ah, Tsukishima and Yamaguchi? They’re in my class. I didn’t know they played volleyball.”

“Do you talk to them?”

“No sir, I do not think Tsukishima's intimidating.”

Sugawara led you to the side where their manager stood, speaking with one of the teachers you had seen running around the school, you bowed silently as Sugawara quickly gave an introduction and ran off to change his shoes and clothes.

The group had an easy time ignoring your presence as you sat on the metal bench, flipping coloured pens between your fingers. Rough doodles filled the page as messily scribbled outlines took the form of the players you saw before you. Some were stretched out in the air while others dove to the ground in elegant swoops. 

Your pen skidded across the paper.

“Damn,” you muttered, lifting the tip and forcing it into the papers again. Nothing.

Twirling the ink-filled tool between your fingers you shifted the sketchbook off your lap and taking the pen to the surface of your skin.

The ink skidded, leaving uneven marks in an indecipherable pattern along the surface of your skin before running dry. You reached for another pen, only for the result to repeat. You grabbed another, and another. The pattern continued, pushing and pulling, dragging the fine tips as they slowly began to cover the entire surface of the back of your hand in every colour including your white ink, which luckily still worked fine and contrasted brilliantly with the muddied mess on your hand.

You huffed out a quiet cheer of success, finding that a majority of your pens worked fine, and placed the forgotten book back into your lap, coloured pages ready to be drawn over with your trusty series of pens.

“Yo, Kageyama. Is that another bruise?”

God this one is vague as hell but I didn’t have to brainpower to make it any more decipherable. 

It was originally requested that the reader be Sugawara’s little sibling but he only canonically has a little brother, not everyone physically looks like Sugawara, and the adoption trope is meh to me. So I went with a foreign exchange student that is being housed by his family. (if you couldn’t tell)

This au, in particular, is very hard because we try to keep our character (being Y/N) physically ambiguous for the purpose of allowing everybody to enjoy reading it. This au very much panders to those with lighter skin, so I apologize if I didn’t make it as open as I could’ve and please let me know if there are ways I can make this sort of au better. I want everyone to enjoy reading them and not feel excluded.

That’s all, and I hope everyone is healthy and safe. - Bacon

Posted: 06/12/2020

[scottfuckingreed]

So wrong, It’s right - Montgomery De La Cruz

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NOT REQUESTED

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Warnings!: smutty and cute (exactly how I imagine Monty actually)

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Can you admire something you’re a little afraid of? Is that possible or does that just contradict the entire point? Being the twin sister of Scott Reed means you’re in the jock group a lot. I’m around people like Bryce Walker and Montgomery De La Cruz all the time. I’m afraid of the power boys - men - like that have. And yet, I’m totally struck by them. Doodling around my notepad, I fade back into the classroom scene. Mrs Bradley goes on about how we need to be there for each other, and how to tell if our ‘friends’ are actually not okay even if they say they are. It’s pointless really, because it’s clear no one cares. It’s unfortunate. “Are you taking notes?” A whisper falls into my ear. I turn around to see an ‘innocent’ smile form on Monty’s face. “Why would I be taking notes?” I whisper back with a slight laugh. I’m not sure if some of these boys think playing dumb is cute, or they’re actually just stupid; probably both. “You just look like you’re taking notes,” he shrugs defensively and turns back to his area. I continue squiggling on my page until I feel a breath on my neck. My hairs stand instantly in an unknown way, sending shivers down my spine and a strange feeling in my stomach. “So what are you doing?” He whispers again. Rolling my eyes, I turn to him once again. “I’m decorating my page.” “You’re decorating your- what? Thats fucking stupid.” Sometimes I don’t get Monty’s responses. I know Monty is like that all the time. Rude? But why? The other’s are like it too. I just don’t know who’s genuinely a prick most of the time.

I wander over to Zach, who’s sat with Alex and he’s sat with Clay and those people. I don’t actually have a massive problem with Clay. I think he’s sweet. “Hey!” I smile when I get there. The response from Clay is a slight frown. Jess’ is a VERY small smile. Barely noticeable. “What do you want?” Clay mutters just loud enough for me to hear. “Clay-“ Jess laughs awkwardly. All I can do is smile. I get it. “Okay, I deserve that I guess.” I may have been involved in some ‘teasing’ back in the day when it comes to Clay. But that’s in the past. “I was just seeing if you were coming, Zach?” I shuffle my books that lay in my arms. “Nah I don’t think so, but you can join us if you want,” I love Zach. He’s a bit of an idiot a lot of the time, but his heart’s in the right place. Clay snaps his head very quickly at those words. “I don’t think I’m wanted here, but thanks anyway. I’ll see you guys around.” Walking away, I see Monty waiting for me. “Zachy staying with the pussies?” I roll my eyes and hit him on the arm. “Shut up, that’s not cute.” He chuckles and we walk to lunch.

We meet up with Scott, Charlie, Bryce and Marcus. “Where’s Zach?” Is the first thing Bryce, or anyone, says as we approach. “He’s with Clay and the other dipshits,” Monty laughs and sounds all cool and stuff. All I can do is roll my eyes. What do guys like Monty get from being nasty a lot of the time? “I think Y/N’s been flirting with me,” he adds, throwing his arm around my shoulder and pulling me in close. I imagine he thinks I like being this close to him. I grab his finger and drop his arm away. “Your ego is fucking massive,” I grunt with a smile. I take my water bottle out of my bag. “Almost as big as my dick,” I almost spit my water back out. Bad timing to take a drink. I get a poke on my shoulder, and that’s what does it for Scott. “Please don’t flirt with my sister in front of me!” He pushes Monty playfully on the shoulders. When I see Monty’s eyebrows raise, I know there’s something going on in his head. And his brain like never works. “Oh okay, I’ll just flirt with her when you’re not around then!” And a play fight erupts between all of them. “Alright kids!” Bryce pushes his foot against Monty, which makes both boys tumble to the ground. I swear the boys at the school are children.

Most of the guy’s had last period free - so they’d already gone home - leaving me to get home on my own. I finally leave the hell hole and bump into Monty. “Montgomery!” I smile, nudging my elbow into him. “Y/N, what do you want?” He chuckles. It sounds awkward or nervous, but that’s not Monty. Like, at all. “I was thinking... you could give me a lift home?” I smile innocently. He begins to walk, which his steps are bigger than mine, so I slightly jog to catch up. “Why would I do that?” His eyes scan me up and down. “Because you love me?” I stick my bottom lip out. The smile on his face only grows. He pretty much shakes his head until we reach his beautiful Jeep. I’m actually in love with his car. He doesnt reply. Instead he just stared at me with that grin. “Because I’m really fun to be around?” I ask again. Same response; he shakes his head. “Because I’m annoying and it’ll shut me up?” He raises his eyebrows. “Okay,” he says simply. All I can do is smile when I get into his car. “You’re so chirpy,” he laughs and starts the engine. “I know you love me,” once again, he shakes his head. “You wish.”

“Do you like what you see?” He smirks at me. I roll my eyes in a rush. “I’m not even looking at you,” I smile and turn my head out the window. I’ve actually watched every tap his fingers did against the steering wheel. I’d seen him nod along to whatever shit was on the radio. Not staring, but in the corner of my eye. Which I think is possibly worse. “I know you are, but it’s okay,” my eyes look back towards him. “I’m gonna have to tell Scotty that his little sister’s checking his best friend out,” I shake my head with a laugh. “We’re literally twins,” is all I can argue.

Monty turns in to the driveway to my house. “Thanks for that, Cruz-y,” he smiles very slightly at my words. Like, VERY slightly. “I guess it’s okay, but you definitely owe me,” I smile back at him and nod. “Of course, you can’t do anything to just ‘be nice’ can you?” I joke, chuckling as I open the door and hop out of his car. “Wait, Y/N,” he shouts out the open window. I watch as the boy gets out his car with something in his hand. “You almost left your phone,” he drops it in my hand. I tap it on his shoulder, and I automatically feel guilty for some reason. I haven’t done anything wrong, or anything I wouldn’t usually do. But I feel guilty. “Did you just, do something nice? For me?!” I drop my jaw with a gleaming smile. “I’m just a nice person,” he shrugs. “Well, I appreciate it,” I feel like I stand waiting for something that’s never gonna happen. I gazed towards the boy for what seems like ages. There was nothing to wait for. It was just awkward blank air. To break the silence, I turn and walk into my house. I’m not sure what else I was meant to do. I run up the stairs, excited to be home, and get out of my ‘nice’ clothes. Sweats and a bralette. It’s time to relax.

I set myself up. Pencils, my sketch pad, and myself laid on my stomach on my bed. Music on. Sometimes I draw from a picture, sometimes from my head, but most of the time it’s just doodles. Today it’s from my head. Just head with eyes and a face and everything. And time flies when you’re invested in something. “Wow,” is all I hear. I jump too much, shooting my head upwards and seeing Montgomery looking over at my book. “Holy shit!” My hand immediately goes over my pounding chest. That was not okay! “You could’ve knocked!” I shout, sitting myself up. “I did, you were just concentrating,” he shrugs and starts looking around my room. He picks up an ornament. I stand up, walking over to him and taking it off of him. It’s only when I get up that I remember what I’m wearing. I feel exposed. His eyes look my body up and down. And suddenly he’s in a rush. “Anyway, I just came to scare you,” and he leaves. Strange.

- A few days later -

A tight black dress. It fits like a glove around my hips, hugging my thighs nicely. This is an outfit that makes me feel like a bad bitch. “I know you’ve worn that dress just to piss me off,” Scott shakes his head as we drive to Bryce’s. Another stupid house party. Although I hate them, I find myself going to every one; enjoying myself too. “I don’t do it to piss you off Scott,” I laugh. He raises his eyebrows immediately. “I know exactly who you dress like that for,” which makes me heat up. Luckily my foundation hides the redness in my cheeks. I don’t even glance his way. I can’t. “Why is everything always about Monty?” It stresses me out that everything is about that boy. “Can’t I just dress up for myself?” I add, rather snappily. Here we are. Bryce pretty much has a car park in front of his fucking house. He might as well have ‘I’m a rich prick’ tattooed on his forehead. “You can, Y/N,” and he gets out the car. You can hear everything from inside the car, let alone walking towards the party itself. Pretty sure I felt the vibrations from the street over. “But did I mention Monty?” Our eyes lock. I swear he said his name? Shit.

Shit music, a load of half naked girls, and too many Varsity jackets? We must be at a Bryce Walker party. I don’t know half of these people here. But I do know Zach! I can’t rush over to him at the drinks table fast enough. “Hey!” I smile. “Y/N, dragged along again?” He asked, handing me a cup. The burning stench of whatever-the-fuck shoots through my nose with just one small sniff. “Jesus Christ, what’s in this?” An adorable smile spreads across his face. He’s so pure I swear. “It’s actually a shorter list if you ask what’s not in it,” he shrugs. I raise my eyebrows, wondering if the boy is smart enough to flirt with me. I leave it at silence, bringing the cup up to my lips. “Everything,” I look back his way. He leans himself down and gets close to my ear. The warmth of his breath does nothing to my body. “I put everything in it. Enjoy!” Is what he finishes with before walking away dancing.

I find myself dancing with everybody and nobody. The fun thing about a party is you don’t need to know anybody. Especially if there’s a lot of people, and you’re drunk. And since there’s everything in my cup, it’s safe to say that I’m a little gone after half of it. “Ah!” I shout and point, seeing a familiar boy across the room. “Where have you been?!” I shout ask. I think I ran over to him. Whatever I did, it happened very quickly. “Around,” he shrugs. And I giggle. What was funny, you ask? Absolutely nothing. But I’m tipsy and a little horny. “Are you drunk?” He laughs, taking my cup and sniffing it. His eyebrows raise, before he even takes a sip, let alone after. “It’s a Zachy special-” “Where’s your brother?” I hardly finish my sentence before he starts shouting his words over the loud music. “I don’t know,” my slightly drunken state is offended by his question. Maybe I’m just annoyed at myself, maybe it’s the fact that everything is about my brother, but it’s more than likely the fact that I wanna be flirted with. And he’s definitely not flirting with me. Rolling my eyes, I just turn and walk as far away as I can before stumbling and embarrassing myself completely. Completely into the arms of Montgomery De La Cruz. “Careful,” the slight giggle shocks me. It was..? Cute..? “Maybe you should sit down for a while,” I realise that I’m still in his arms, which is definitely the last place I should be, so I stand up ‘straight’. As straight and as still as I can be anyway. “It’s okay, I wanna dance!” Smiling massively towards him, I’m shocked when he actually reciprocates the happy look. He never smiles back at me. It must be pity. “You can dance sat down, I’ll come with you.”

I didn’t think I’d be spending a part of my night looking at the stars with Monty, but here we are. Well I’m sat on a sun bed, and he’s stood. The fresh air does a mix of sending the alcohol to my head, and sobering me up a little. Which makes no sense; I know. I’m just drunk. “Fuck, did I drop my drink?” Confusion hits me like a brick. So much so that I start patting my hips at the pockets I don’t have. Which also makes no fucking sense. “I took it off you- why would the cup be in your pocket?” He laughs, taking a seat on the concrete next to my lounger. “That’s cute,” as soon as the words fall out, my hand covers my mouth. “Shit, I won’t hear the end of that. Will I?” His lips press together, shaking his head slowly. “At least you’be admitted you find me cute,” I don’t even have the effort to argue. So I lay myself down.

Before I open my eyes, my head starts pounding. Unfortunately I remember quite a bit, if not all of last night. It’s effort to wake up. So I lay on my back. In a 3, 2, 1, I open my eyes to a ceiling. I might still be drunk, or my eyes aren’t working properly, but that ceiling doesn’t look like mine. “You’re awake!” A voice startles me. There stand Montgomery De La Cruz with water and a pill of some kind. “Fuck, this doesn’t look-” “I slept on the sofa,” and my heart, unfortunately, skips a beat. I lay a glance over to the chair. It’s small. “It’s comfier than it looks,” he shrugs, edging the items towards me. I don’t even know what to say. It’s... sweet? “This could literally be anything,” I squint my eyes at the drug with as much enthusiasm as I can in this state. “Don’t you trust me?” I press my lips together and screw my face up. “I do, unfortunately,” I shrug, and take the painkiller. “Good, lets get some food,” he nods his head towards the door. In my state? No. But I couldn’t turn down his offer.

“I’m curious Monty,” we walk where we can see the beach. Not on the sand, but the path very close. I’m not sure if he’s following me, or I’m following him. “Go on,” he smile, putting a chip in his mouth. Seaside chips are the best. To be honest, everything tastes better at the beach. “How did I end up in your bed?” I smile at my question. My cheeks blush slightly at the question. I must be broken. “Well you just passed out really, so I thought it was the right thing to do,” he shrugs in a very cute way? “Where’d Scott go?” As flattered as I am, Scott should’ve been there. I’m his twin sister. “He got with some slut-” I raise my eyebrows. “Sorry, he got with a blonde girl in a red skirt.” He shivers. A chuckle exits my mouth. “What’s that about?” A smile goes across his face, looking down. I’ve noticed every move he’s made since this ‘morning’. “Red’s such a slutty colour,” he says slowly. Is he weary of my reaction? “Tell me about it!” Only a moment of silence goes by. “Well, thank you,” His eyes lock with mine. “I respect that you didn’t try it on with me, because I definitely would’ve just let it happen,” without debate. Without thinking, he speaks. “I wouldn’t want it to happen like that,” my heart skips a beat. I see the instant regret in his face, but I can’t help but feel warmed by those words. Even so, he doesn’t correct himself.

I spend the rest of my day pacing my bedroom floor. Seeing as I woke up like midday, it’s not actually too long. It felt like it. An hour felt like 3. A knock goes on my door. Although I’m not doing anything, I felt suspicious. So I rush onto my bed and start reading a page of the book closest to me. ‘Twilight’. A classic. “Come in!” I shout. I expected it to be my mum, but it’s Scott. Guilt. Why? I don’t know. I didn’t do anything wrong. Even so, there’s still a feeling of guilt in my body. And it’s heavy. “You never knock,” I laugh nervously. “I wanted to apologise for leaving you at the party. That was a shitty brother move,” he shrugs. As much as I appreciate it, it feels weird. Does he know? I let a moment of silence go by before answering. “It’s fine, at least nothing happened,” looking back at my home screen, I hope that Scott leaves. Of course he doesn’t. He hasn’t asked the vital question. “So... where’d you crash?” Now... I could lie. I feel like I could lie easily too. Only if it’s not a trick question. What if Monty’s already told Scott? Then it’ll look like I’m covering something up. Am I? Nah. “Monty took me to his, but I swear nothing happened,” I almost rush out. Scott’s facial expression doesn’t really change, other than look slightly relieved. “Don’t worry, I trust you,” there’s a pause. “So did you, like, share a bed?” Which makes me smile massively. Only my brother would ask such an awkward question. “He actually gave me his bed, and I think he slept on a chair.” Scott looks surprised. “That chair in his bedroom?” He asks. I nod slowly. “Hmm,” and he leaves.

I spend the rest of my day rewatching Teen Wolf. Let’s not lie, it’s one of the best shows out there! So here I am, crying at how beautiful Stiles is, and my phone starts to ring. Heart: drops. It’s only Monty. For some reason I’m nervous to talk to him. So I hesitate answering the phone. Just do it Y/N! “Hey,” I clear my throat lightly. For context, Monty never calls me. Why would he? We’ve texted on and off about stupid shit. Like ‘is Scott with you’ and ‘can I copy your work’. That’s it. “Y/N, how are you?” His voice echos softly through my ear. “I’m alright, what’s up?” My hair twiddles around my forefinger. “What are you doing right now?” Other than crying at a stupid Netflix show? Other than getting nervous about you calling me? “Nothing, I think Scott’s-” “I didn’t call you to ask where Scott is,” he chuckles *cutely*. His tone made it sound like that was a strange thing to say. Like I said, he’s never really called me before. Not to actually speak to me. “So, what’s up?” I ask again. My body doesn’t seem to know what to do. I go from sitting down, to laying on my back, to my front, to pacing the floor. All over the place. “I was- uh- wondering if you could sneak out?” He whispers mischievously. Eyebrows: raised. I gasp through the phone with a smile. Tutting at him, I lose the capability to speak for a second. I clear my throat again. “Monty-” “Just for a walk.”

Walking to meet Monty was insane. I don’t even know my intentions, let alone his. But somehow it makes sense. The sky is dark, the air blows cold. My joggers keep my legs cosy. My arms, however, were unprepared. I’m not cold though. I’m nervous. The uncertainty of this whole thing is driving me insane. The craziness is eating at me. And yet I don’t know if I wanna face Monty. But I am. He’s ahead of me. My stomach just can’t keep still. Even with him standing right in front of me. Whatever happens, will happen. “I thought you were gonna stand me up, Y/N,” his smile screams nerves, which made me more nervous. A guy like Monty should never be nervous. “I was hesitant to come,” he nods slowly. “But I’m here.”

The chat was just about stupid shit, funny times, and thick with ‘beating around the bush’. I should be paying attention to where we were going. The absolutely insane thing is I trust Monty. I probably always have done. Through the teasing, and the being Scott’s twin sister, I’ve always felt somewhat comfortable. He’d even given me just hoodie to wear. I’m not sure if it’s something to read into, or it’s simply a kind gesture. “Monty... why did we just walk around for like 30 minutes just to get back to my house?” I can’t hold it back anymore. I need to know why I’m here. “Why am I walking the streets with you half 10 at night?” He avoids my eye contact. I realise that he doesn’t plan on answering me right now. I stop in my place, grabbing his hand. His skin soft and warm. I wish he wasn’t so damn hard to read. “Maybe I just wanted to hang out with you?” Shaking my head, I smile at the ground before locking eyes with him again. This time his eyes stay on mine. Neither of us move. “I’m confused,” a smile spreads across his face. “I’ve been confused for a while,” my eyebrows lift in curiosity. A while? Is he confused about the same shit I am? “Explain it to me.” And he just starts walking away from me.

“Monty!” I slightly jog up to him. It’s wrong of me, but I just wanted everything out on the line. I wanted it written in black and white. “It’s hard to explain the fact that I’m pretty much in love with my best friend’s sister,” my heart drops, yet it’s full at the same time. Jaw; dropped. “I- what?” My hands cover my gradually growing smile. His face stays neutral. This whole thing is just insane. “I’m sorry, but I am obsessed with everything you stand for,” and that does it. I know there is an unwritten rule about your brother’s best friend. This makes me entirely shitty. It’s nothing I ever imagined. The silence on my end makes Monty start to walk away. “You know what!” Once again I grab Monty. “Fuck it,” this time reaching for the back of his neck and pulling him close. Our lips magnetise together. Ive never felt such passion and respect from a person. The unbelievable feeling of his fingers crawling to my waist was something I realise I’ve been missing. It’s just one long kiss, and yet it’s so much more than that. Unknowing, I have been waiting for this moment for a little too long. He pulls my body as close to his as possible. I should be considering the fact that Scott could just look out his window. A thought should’ve crossed my mind that this is one of the shittiest things either of us could do. My conscience shouldn’t be clean. Right now, this is all I can think about.

I feel like I should feel guiltier than I do. I was more nervous of Scott catching me than my parents. Scott and I have always been close. We’re twins. We will always be that. But Monty and Scott? What just happened between me and Monty was risky for that. Yet I lay on my bed staring at my ceiling; I’m smiling like a fool. The clock reads 23:39. Just sleep Y/N. I just kissed Montgomery De La Cruz. A simple, but so perfect, kiss. I can’t wrap my head around it, let alone the fact that he said he’s ‘pretty much’ in love with me. Like shit. Is he gonna regret telling me that in the morning? I hope not.

- The Next Morning -

Nerves and a centimetre of guilt pumps through my veins, waking me up at exactly 06:12. I usually wake up at 07:00, so I might as well shower. I know I shouldn’t dress up just because Monty pronounced his love for me. You know I’m going to though. A touch of mascara and tinted lip balm will be subtle enough.

“You’ve gotta stop looking like that,” Scott shakes his head at me as I jog down the stairs and into the dining room. “Scott! You look beautiful sweetheart,” my mum kisses me on the cheek and hands me a plate of pancakes. I can’t even think about eating right now. “She does it just to flirt with Monty,” a metal spoon hits my back. He scoffs. “I do not!” Usually that would be true, but today it’s not. My high waisted shorts sit perfectly on my hips, and my fitted crop top hugs my breasts. I look down at my outfit. I honestly don’t even thinks it’s that bad. “It’s not my fault Monty flirts with me,” I tease Scott. Is that even a joke though? “Fuck, you wish!” “Right!” My mum shouts. Definitely at the swearing. “Just get to school!”

There’s silence in the car. Not even the radio plays a sound. This is where the guilt starts to sink in. “We’re picking Monty up, could you move to the back when we get to his?” Scott asks, cracking the first ‘smile’ towards me today. “Oh I see how it is,” I grunt jokingly, and he actually smiles. I can’t imagine what it would be like if me and Monty carried on. If anything it shows that yesterday was a mistake and can’t happen. Too much would be risked. We don’t live far from Monty, so in seconds we were outside. It hadn’t even sunk in that I have to see him today. Fuck. Slipping out the car, we lock eyes. “Good morning, Reed,” he huskily whispers. His smile captivates me, but I just have to ignore it. Just like I’m ignoring the fact that when I slid past him to get to the back seats, our bodies scraped together: I thought, stupidly enough, sitting behind Scott would mean there would be no eye contact between Monty and I. Boy was I wrong. In the corner of his eye. In the rear view mirror. It would stop if I stopped looking at him... right now that seems impossible.

“Hey Y/N,” Jess smiles at me as I walk past her locker. Strange? But I stop and turn. “Hey, how are you?” I ask, watching her grab her books. “I’m all good. I just wanted to apologise for Clay the other day. He’s just a bit-” “I deserved it, don’t even worry about it.” She presses her top and bottom lips together tightly. “Thank you though,” I open my arms to hug her, which she surprisingly accepts, until I get a tap on the shoulder. Jess releases me. When I turn and see Monty, my heart goes from zero to a hundred real fast. Imagine a boy having such a grip on you. “Monty,” my voice comes out shaky. “Jessica,” Monty nods at her, and he grunts. “I’ll see you later,” she screws her face up at him and walks away. “She’s such a bitch,” he rolls his eyes. THIS is what I don’t like about Monty. I just wish that list was longer than the stuff I do like about him. “Anyway, can we go talk somewhere?”

Panic thoughts rush through my head as I walk out the school with Monty. What if someone starts gossiping about the fact that we’ve left the school to talk? That’s so fucking stupid. Why would people do that? I’m a little nervous. I’m actually a LOT nervous. Breathe Y/N. I take a seat on the wall behind me. “I wanted to know how you’re feeling?” He simply says. I smile down to myself. “You make this so hard, why can’t you just be an asshole to me?” I let out in a whispered chuckle. “Is that what you want?” He brushes the back of his hand against my arm. “What do you want from this?” My question just makes him raise his eyebrows, as if the answer’s obvious. Does he want a fuck-buddy? Does he want a relationship? Is he just trying to fuck with my emotions? I mean, that last one’s completed with flying colours. “You’re gonna hate me for saying this Y/N, but I honestly just want you.” If anyone else said such a thing, I’d tell them to get a grip. This is Monty. Bad boy image with devilishly good looks. The boy you love to hate, and hate to love. He’s not meant to actually swoon for a girl. Is that what’s happening? Holy shit. “I don’t know if that can happen, what about Scott?” He smiles to himself. His body places itself next to me. “This has nothing to do with Scott,” he shrugs. I wish that was true. “All Scott does is warn me to stay away from you. You’re his best friend,” hand goes to my knee. My naked knee. Please move your hand a little higher; no. “I know, but he’d get over it,” I make a ‘would he really’ face at him. It’s hard to believe that. My eyes gaze away from him for a second. I look at the sky and the trees and that school building. Monty’s eyes are the last place I should look. Except my eyes drift back to his in a second. Stomach; drops. He slowly begins to move his head towards mine. I want to stop him. I want to consider the fact that anyone could see us right now. Including Scott. In all honesty, his lips aren’t moving towards mine fast enough. “Montgomery,” my whispered words stop his in his place. My forehead fall onto his. “I’d risk it, for you.”

School is always a drag, but when you’re waiting for it to end it goes 10x slower. Once again, the rest of our people had last period free. This leaves Monty and I the only ones left. I should be avoiding the boy at all costs. But my hearts flutters when I see him waiting at the school doors for me. I can’t even find words. “Hey,” Monty gives me a contained smile, as if he was holding back. I’m already blushing. “Montgomery,” I say simply. He starts moving, so my body automatically follows his lead. I honestly can’t help it. Can you blame me? Have you met the guy?! “Do you wanna walk with me?” Walk with him? Fuck yeah. But we all know what happened on that last walk of ours. For some reason that only makes me want to walk with him even more. I can’t control myself... he must have a voodoo doll or something.

As usual, our chats flow too naturally. I guess we’ve always spoken, but I never realised how well we got on until recently. Have I been hiding these feelings? It wasn’t intentional. But I should be containing my feelings now. I should cut Monty off before we hurt Scott. I wish I could. “How do you feel?” He asks again. Fuck, I wish he’d leave it alone. “That’s a loaded question Monty.” He stops in his place. A thought bubble appears above his head. It’s only for a few seconds. Then he softly takes hold of my forearm, and leads me into an alleyway. This is it. This is where he kills me. Both of his hands go to my wrists, lifting them and pushing me against the wall. This is single handedly the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced in my life. His eyes just stare back into mine. We’re so used to just staring at each other at this point. “How do you feel?” He asks again. I feel like I want his body on top of mine if we’re honest. A smug look captivates his face. Can he hear my thoughts? I gulp loudly. I think I’m about to have a heart attack. “Y/N,” he whispers deeply. “Can you just kiss me already?!”

He’s seems almost struck by my words. As if, although he wanted to hear them, he wasn’t expecting me to actually say them. His eyes scan my body intricately, up and down. I could watch him look at me all day. “Monty... did you hear what I said?” I ask. The corners of his mouth turn up before he makes a move. Finally. His lips on mine once again. I’ve been aching for this moment for at least 16 hours since the last, and first, time. Only this time it’s not just a long, still kiss. Within seconds his tongue asks for access into my mouth. The angel on my shoulder makes me hesitate. This is wrong. But it’s so fucking right. The devil, and my entire body, screams yes. His mouth; warm. The massaging sensation of his tongue sends flutters in every place possible. His hands squeeze my wrists tighter before realising them. They move to balance on the wall. Mine go to the bottom of his tee and... I realise we’re outside. In public. Where everyone and anyone can see us. I break away from his spell for a second. It’s somewhat comforting to see him breathing just as heavy as me. My right hand goes to his chest. “Fuck...” I whisper. I lean my head on the front of his shoulder. In the most adorable way, he places a soft kiss on the top of my head. He can definitely do that more often. “Do you wanna come back to mine?” He asks. What a stupid fucking question.

Luckily we were only seconds away from Monty’s place. I felt giggly the whole 3-5 minutes. It’s like I was in a trance. I heard Monty say that he dad was at work, and honestly it’s all I needed to hear. I could think about guilt, l right now, or anything other than the fact that I’ve never needed or wanted something so much in my life. So he unlocks the door. Before we can even get in the building, I turn Monty towards me and jump. My legs wrap around his waist tightly as I latch my lips onto his. This time there was nothing stopping us. Slam goes the door behind us. The wetness between my legs only grows as Monty’s hands cup my ass cheeks. Squeezing slightly, I let a small, breathy moan enter his mouth. He grunts. “Fuck, Y/N,” he mutters between our lips. It’s almost like he stepped foot on the gas. I’m not sure how, but Monty walks us up the stairs whilst we make out, all the way up to his bedroom. Maybe I should be wondering how he’s so good at this. I couldn’t care less.

My back bounces onto the bed. Our lips stay apart for only a second before his body is above mine. Hands smooth up and down from my hips to my waist. His fingers crawl to the buttons of my shorts. He stops. “Is this okay?” He asks. This is the moment. I know, just by that statement alone, that Monty is worth it. It confirms it all for me. My hands cover my mouth in awe. “I fucking love that,” I pretty much squeal. “Monty,” I speak, holding his head between my hands. “This is more than okay, I need you.” His lips attach back onto mine, and he starts undoing my shorts. I wiggle and lift my body to make it go faster, but they just don’t come off fast enough. All I keep imagining is that this is a dream. This is too crazy to be actually happening.

Just as Monty’s lips go to my neck, I hear a buzz. Is that my alarm? No. So this must be real. It is, however, Monty’s phone ringing. Monty pulls himself off of me. I reach over, pick up his phone, and see ‘Scotty’ written across the top. 1. Cute. 2. Fuck. “Imma just ignore it,” he smirks, rubbing his body back against mine. I don’t know what comes over me, but I find the strength and confidence to flip us over. I smile massively at what I’ve just accomplished. Here I am, straddling Montgomery De La Cruz. Does it get any better? His eyes look shocked. “That’s so fucking hot,” he lifts his head to lock our lips. “Shut up,” I whisper against his lips. I slide my tongue between his lips and... a phone rings. “Fuck,” I grunt frustratedly. ‘Scott’ comes across my phone this time. “Fuck, I’m gonna have to answer it,” I speak in a panic. “It’s fine just ignore him,” he reaches to grab my phone. My hand moves slowly away, making his eyes roll. “He could put 2 and 2 together and make 4,” I say simply. Shit. Act natural. “Hey Scott,” the key is to not overthink this. I won’t think about the fact that I’m in a thong straddling him best friend. Or that Monty’s fingers are tracing pattens on my ass cheeks. “Hey, have you seen Monty?” Of course. What other question would he ask? ‘I have actually. He’s currently between my legs. I could pass you on?’ But no. “No I haven’t, what’s up?” I hear a sigh through the phone. Okay Scott, just hang up now. “Bryce is looking for him. Where are you?” I put a bit of pressure on Monty’s chest with my hand, as I sign to stop, but he does not. Instead he squeezes my buttcheeks ever so slightly. This sends a rush of pleasure through my body, and a HEAVY breath out my mouth. “It sounds dodgy your end Y/N,” he laughs. I can hear the nerves in his voice. I know he’s thinking the worst, and it’s actually a reality right now. “I’m just working out.” In my head I can see Scott shake his head at my response. You’d think, as a jock, he’d understand the grind of working out and keeping fit. But no, Scott is naturally built like an athlete. “Well, enjoy that shit I guess?” His voice is uncertain. “If you do see Monty, tell him to come to the house! Bye,” before I can respond, he hangs up. I think I did it.

I let out a deep breath of relief. “Scott said that if I see you I should tell you to go to our house,” Monty pretends to throw me off him, but instead he flips us back over. “You can go if you’d like,” I mutter, slowly sticking out my bottom lip. I’m lying. My legs tighten around his body. His eyes widen. “I think I’m gonna stay with you,” he smiles, planting his lips back onto mine. He continues to kiss down my neck, just like he was before we were interrupted. “Montgomery,” I’m not sure if I regret stopping him. Theres just one thing I need more than this foreplay right now. Eyes: locked together. Fuck. He makes me nervous. I feel like it’s my first time all over again. “Can you just, like, fuck me now?” I giggle. I hardly finished my sentence before he pulls himself off me to go into a drawer. A condom. To get comfy, I move myself to his pillows. To think, a couple of days ago I woke up in this room panicking because I thought I slept with Monty. Now I’m about to.

He rummages the condom on in seconds. I’ll worry about the fact that he’s clearly very experienced later. “Is this good?” He asks. I could make a silly joke about how ‘he hasn’t started yet’. But I know exactly what he means. And it’s so fucking cute. My hands reach for the back of his head, pulling his lips onto mine for just a peck. “This is perfect.” Eyes are locked together, he leans down and rubs his nose on mine. The palpating going through my body is concerning. And somehow, just when he starts entering, it feels real. This only probably ever crossed my mind once. I steady my breathing as he pushes himself further inside me. Not a virgin, but definitely not a slut. In my opinion anyway. He notices me trying to get comfortable and plants his lips on mine for one long kiss. Humming vibrates from his lips onto mine. I want this moment to last forever.

Breath. Monty stays still for just a second, and pulls his lips away from mine. His right hand sweeps a strand of my hair out of my face. I reach my right hand up to his face, caressing his cheek and smoothing my thumb against his bottom lip. “You are,” pause, “so beautiful,” he says boldly. It wasn’t whispered. It wasn’t a question. I could hear he meant it. Montgomery De La Cruz thinks I’m beautiful. Without warning, he starts to pull out. My mouth gapes more and more. You know that point where you’re on a rollercoaster and you’re waiting for the drop... that was the anticipation for Monty to start thrusting. I’m a mess underneath him. When he does start, I feel myself coming apart at the seams already. His lips go back to mine, my arms stretch around his neck to pull him closer. Our tongues dance around. This was a ‘finally’ moment. The steadiness of the thrusts was perfection. It wasn’t rough, but it was nowhere near slow. And gentle. Everything about this boy was gentle. I don’t know if anyone has ever seen this soft Monty. I want this Monty all to myself. And right now, he’s mine. I wanted, and I needed, him as close as I could. My legs probably couldn’t wrap around his waist any tighter.

My entire being wanted to hold on for as long as I could, but this boy has some serious tricks. I feel like I’m quite stubborn so I could hold off. Monty’s right hand smooths down my hip, down my thigh, and hooks under my knee. As he lifted my leg slight higher, I knew I couldn’t hold on. “Fuck,” I pretty much squeal into his mouth as he reaches my g-spot. My abdomen bursts with excitement. My eyes glance at him biting his bottom lip very discreetly. His lips move from my lips to the side of my neck. I close my eyes for a second to just soak this moment in. I never thought I needed to feel this close to Monty. The pace increases by 2x at least, and a long lost knot begins to form in my stomach. It’s as if my body can sense the boy’s need to release. I think we’ve both been waiting for this moment for a little longer than we think we have. “Please tell me your close,” his husky voice tingles my neck. “Oh my god!” I moan loudly as my climax... finally. Connected. We continue to ride out each other’s highs. Wow.

My head lays against Monty’s chest. I know this can’t last forever. At some point I have to go home. When my heart stops racing, I sit up. “Do you regret it?” Is the first thing Monty asks. I smile to myself slightly. I shake my head slowly. “I kinda wish I did,” I shrug and turn my body towards him and cross my legs. “What do we do now?” I ask with a nervous giggle. He just stares at me. I’ve never been looked at like that before. “Scott’s gonna have to get over it. You’re too beautiful to keep it a secret,” cheesy, but fucking cuuuute. “Shut up. You’ll start making me believe it in a minute,” I push his chest lightly. Monty takes my hand and pulls me close to him. “You’re beautiful Y/N.” It’s hard to make jokes when the most handsome person is staring you dead in the eyes. My cheeks heat too quickly. “So, I heard you kinda like your best friends sister... how’s that working out for you?” I whisper. He opens his mouth, smiling massively for a second. “I actually say that I’m in love with my best friend’s sister. You should get your facts right.” A grin bigger than my head itself forms. “Wow, sassy Monty’s got,” I tease. “I mean it, Y/N. I’m in love with you.” I open my mouth to respond, but no words seems to form. I gobsmacked. Most of the times when I say I’m speechless, I’ve still got shit to say. I don’t know what to say to that. “Fuck, Monty,” I whisper. I nudge my nose against his chin. “If it turns out it’s because I look a little like Scotty, I’m gonna be pissed,” I laugh. Once again, Monty flips us over and puts his body between my legs. He put his tongue between his lips, licking them very sexily I might add. “That’s just a bonus,” my mouth drops open before pulling Monty’s lips down onto mine once again.

[pink-imagines]

spice it up

request: Ok this is something that’s been on my mind for a couple of days now, and it’s SUPER CHEESY but plz bear with me haha. I’ve been watching a lot of ANTM and it inspired me to think about an au where Bakugo is a pro-hero and Y/N is a upcoming top model visiting Japan to walk and display a new line of lingerie based off of Pro-Hero’s costumes (kinda like for a Victoria’s Secret fashion show) She’s chosen to wear the Ground Zero lingerie and she gets permission to shadow Bakugo for a day or two to get a read on his personality so she can base her walk off of him. Thing is, off the catwalk, Y/N’s personality is free-spirited, laidback and even a little shy, so when Bakugo meets her he’s like “why the fuck would they choose an extra like her to be me?” but little does he know on the catwalk her personality does a complete 180 and is outrageously fierce and confident. Pro-hero’s got a free invitation to the fashion show so with some convincing from his friends (and maybe because he was curious to see how the hell she was going to pull this off) he goes to the show and his reaction to when she steps on the catwalk… Lol I want to leave it up to you. Wow that was wayyy longer then I expected it to be. I’m sorry to spam you like that 😂 I feel like ppl are either going to love or hate this idea so if you don’t want to write it I honestly don’t blame you haha. Either way I love your posts! You’re writing style is very fun to read!

a/n: hellooo! hope you’re doing well! sorry for the late update, but i hope that this is an alright imagine!

warnings: description of lingerie(??)

masterlist

You were exhausted. The airport had always been a stressful place, but now you were jetlagged aswell. Flying to Japan wasn’t an easy task, but it was worth it. You carefully pushed the sunglasses you were wearing up the bridge of your nose. It was a weak disguise, but you really couldn’t care less.

“The car’s waiting outside. Let’s hurry up.”, your manager spoke fast. You grabbed your bag and followed after her. The paparazzi were flooding the exit, luckily they had put up fences. This was one of the reasons you had to look atleast a little bit dressed up on airports. Which was the most uncomfortable thing ever, but you just had to live with it. By “dressed up” they usually just meant “don’t wear sweatpants”. So you could still wear your comfy pair of jeans and a nice sweater or something of the sort.

“How do you feel after travelling so much? From New York, to London, to Paris and now here in Tokyo. How do you cope?” The same questions were popping up everywhere, but you didn’t stop for any of them. The only time you did stop was when you saw a few fans getting strangled against the fence. You hurried towards them, got their things signed and made sure they got back to safety.

“Let’s go, Y/N.”, your manager warned.

“Coming!”, you sighed and kept walking.

The next day you were driven to the place where you’d be messured for the lingerie.

“Y/N? Over here, honey!”, the designer said. He got you into a chair as soon as you arrived.

“What do you have for me today, Ray?”, you smiled kindly.

“So, heroes are a big thing. So we’ve made a line of hero-inspired lingerie, we think it’ll be a hit.”, he said with a big grin and showed you the sketches, “We’ll get them ready as soon as possible, but we need to match the right hero to the right model.”

“Alright, I trust your judgement.”, you looked through the sketches, “Give it to me, Ray.”

“Okay, okay. Since you’re the most charesmatic of the girls, we want you take care of the hothead.”, he pointed at one of the sketches, “Ground Zero.” You looked at the sketch. The top was some sort of dulled down orange color, in a lacy material. That wasn’t that bad, it was the usual, but there was a leather harness on top of it... a leather harness that connected to a leather choker. The bottoms were high-waisted and in the same lace material but black. But that wasn’t it. There was a pair of leather, knee-high, boots along with it.

“It’s... extreme.”, you sighed, “But, sure... I’ll do it.”

“Oh, thank you, Y/N. You’re a life saver, no model in Japan wanted to take the roll.”, he chuckled, “Here I’ll show you what we thought we should do for the face.” He showed you a face with cat-eye eyeliner, a simple nude lip and some sort of explosion looking thing behind the ears. You guessed that was a part of Ground Zero’s hero costume.

“Looks great, Ray.”, you smiled.

“Go get yourself meassured, your manager is booking you a meeting with Ground Zero so that you can study his personality.”, he said calmly and started to walk away.

How had you gotten yourself in this mess? To be honest, you didn’t know anymore. Everything happened so fast and now suddenly you were in the lobby of a hero agency, waiting for Ground Zero to go on his lunch break.

“Y/N Y/L/N?”, a rough voice asked behind you. You turned around to see a pair of crimson eyes staring into your soul. His hair was messy and he was just wearing jeans, a hoodie and a leather jacket. You didn’t know why you thought he’d show up in his hero costume.

“I’m guessing you’re Ground Zero?”, you stretched out your hand.

“You can say Bakugo.”, he scoffed and ignored your stretched out hand. He instead put his hands in his pockets.

“Are you ready to go?”, you asked.

“Why else would I be here?”, he sighed and walked to the exit. This was gonna be an exhausting week.

Bakugo walked as if he had just proven a point, or like he had just won an argument. To say the least, there was only pure confidence flooding in his veins. You hated it, but you simply had to see this as a job. You weren’t in your body, you were only watching from the audience.

“Are you just gonna sit there looking at me? You’re not gonna talk?”, he quirked an eyebrow at you.

“Fine then... um... what kind of music do you listen to?”, you asked innocently.

“Music?”, he bursted out into laughter, “That’s it? You really are just another extra!”

“Listen, man, you’re the one who wanted to talk. So talk.”, you kept your calm, you didn’t want to make a scene out in public.

“Eh- this place sucks, let’s go to my apartment. We can talk there.”, he shrugged and walked faster.

“Your apartment?”, you squeaked.

You were just supposed to follow him around for a while every day, but now you were in his apartment. This was only the first day! His apartment was nice though... it kind of had an oldschool aesthetic to it. Like he came straight out of a private school in England during the 1980′s.

“You asked what kind of music I’m into or something?”, he sighed and walked over to a record player after taking off his shoes and hanging up his jacket. You stopped for a second. Didn’t he just make fun of you for asking that? You watched as he flipped through a few records.

“Yeah, I did.”, you answered cautiosly and hung up your coat next to his jacket.

He effortlessly handled one of the vinyls and quickly put it on the record player... it started playing and-... was that The Beatles? Bakugo sat down on his couch as if it wasn’t extremely shocking for him to listen to this.

“You listen to The Beatles?”, you asked as Paul McCartney started signing the first verse of Yesterday.

“Who doesn’t?”, he sighed, “C’mon, sit down.” You sat down in one of the armchair’s and finished listening to the song.

“You don’t seem like you listen to this kind of music.”, you commented as the next song started playing.

“I don’t only listen to this, idiot.”, he snarked, “This was the first thing I found.”

“Whatever you say.”

A few days went by and you’d go through the same schedule. Wait for Bakugo to go out for his lunchbreak, walk around for a bit, go to his apartment and go home when he had to start his next shift. He started making you lunch, and he was a surprisingly good cook. 

For the last day he stopped you before you parted ways.

“Wait-... can I meet you at your hotel later tonight?”, he actually looked a little bit nervous for once.

“I mean, yeah... but why?”, you gave him an unsure smile.

“I’ll take you out for food, something spicy... unless you can’t handle that.”, he grinned, his confidence was suddenly back.

“You wanna bet?”, your laughed.

“Alright then, it’s a bet.”, he chuckled, “I’ll meet you around 7 in the lobby.”

“For sure. I’ll see you!”, you waved goodbye and so did he.

Just when you were about to sneak out to the lobby your manager walked past.

“Where are you going?”, she asked.

“I was just uh...”

“And why’s Ground Zero in the lobby? He’s starting a commotion! We don’t need that, we need you to rest for the show tomorrow!”, she sighed.

“Please, I just wanted to-”

“No, Y/N. You can’t go out tonight, you have a damn show tomorrow.”

“Well, please just tell Bak- I mean... Ground Zero that I can’t come... and that I’m sorry.”, you pleaded, “Please.”

“Fine...”, she agreed.

The next day you woke up early to go to the fitting, so that you could later that day go to the show. Since they had your measurments, it fit perfectly.

“Hey, Laura!”, you stopped your manager as she passed by your make up station.

“Yeah, what’s up? Need anything?”, she asked.

“No-... I was just wondering if you know if Ground Zero would be here tonight.”, you asked.

“I don’t know, honey.”, she sighed, “He hasn’t said anything about it.”

“Alright, thank you.”

You got a moment alone in your changing room before you were going backstage. There was a harch knock on the door, which prompted you to go over to it and open the door. 

“Is it time to come out n-”, you stopped dead in your tracks when you saw Bakugo in front of you.

“Hey.”, he said quietly.

“Hi.”, you responded, “How did you get back here?”

“It’s not that hard for a hero of my status.”, he grinned and puffed up his chest a bit.

“Okay, okay...”, you chuckled and wrapped the silk robe you had on tighter around you, “Well, I’m happy you made it.”

“Y/N! Showtime!”, you heard your manager shout.

“Coming!”, you answered.

“Good luck... on the show...”, he muttered.

“Thank you! I expect to see you in the crowd.”, you grinned and ran up to the backstage area.

-

Maybe he should’ve tried to see what she was wearing. He really hadn’t thought about it at all...

The show was in alphabetic order, so he’d have to sit there for a bit before she’d come out. He really didn’t care much for the other models and he might’ve fell asleep for a few minutes here and there... but that was the chair’s fault! It was too comfortable, it even had armrests! How could he not fall asleep? Just for a bit... 

“Ground Zero!”, they shouted, making him almost jump out of his seat. Eijiro, who sat beside him, let out a quiet chuckle.

“Shut up, man...”, he whispered before glueing his eyes to the runway. He didn’t even recognize her at first. Y/N was... different... and it wasn’t just the clothing... or more like the lack there of.

Her whole aura was different when she walked she was like a whole new person. She was fierce, confident, simply the embodiment of a goddess of war and destruction.  Katsuki’s eyes were glued to her, every curve and edge, and his mouth was slightly agape in shock. He didn’t even realize that people were taking pictures of him.

After the show Katsuki made his way backstage, where he met up with Y/N who was now wrapped up in her silk robe again.

“What did you think? Did you like it?”, she grinned.

“I-...”, he looked around at the people around him who were all watching, “It was alright.”

“Alright?”, you laughed, “Okay then, you diva, I’m gonna go get changed!” His gaze followed her form as she walked away from him to her changing room... until he noticed that people were staring at him.

“Oi! What are you looking at!?”

-

The next day you were already at the airport early in the morning, which was way to early since the plane didn’t leave for another hour. So you decided to look at the articles about last night.

You scrolled quickly through most of them until you saw a picture of a familiar face. It was Bakugo! Looking absolutely star struck as your figure strutted down the runway. A smile spread across your lips and you took a screenshot of the photo.

“Hey, do we have Ground Zero’s buisness email or something like that?”, you asked your manager.

“I can get it for you. Why do you need it?”, she quirked an eyebrow at you.

“Oh, I just wanted to thank him.”, you smiled sweetly, “Also, do you know the next time I’ll be working in Japan?”

“In a few months or so.”

“Perfect.” You couldn’t wait.

-

permanent taglist: @theoceanphoenixhasrisen | @raven-r0ses | @darkbeautyswife | @sondering-thoughts | @gowoneandonlyone | @bnhabadass | @queenblackcat | @jayetheanimefreek101 | @witchy-anna 

tagged for this fic: @bnha-violetnote​ | @succulent-momma​

[anystalker707]

Lights, camera and fuck off (4/4)

Pairing: Gerard Way x Fem Reader Genre: Fluff Word count: 2 349 Requested by @liv-silver1​ Summary: It seems like Gerard wants to tell reader something. Will he have the guts to?

The kitchen is filled with the smell of coffee and pancakes as I prepare some, with music playing in the background, though not too loud since Gerard's still asleep. Or was when I woke up. Nonetheless, it doesn't really matter, the quiet ambient is good enough.

As much as half of me already waited for it, I'm still surprised when arms suddenly wrap around my torso and Gerard's beard scratching against my neck makes me shrink with the tickling sensation. He chuckles at my reaction and places a kiss on my neck, resting his chin on my shoulder.

"Good morning," I greet him with a smile, receiving a lazy hum in response.

I continue cooking, Gerard continues there – he's warm, so it's quite pleasing. He stands still until I finish the pile of pancakes on the plate. With it, I believe he'll let go to eat or so I'm able to set the used dishes in the sink and all, but no. He continues there, the same way, not moving a muscle.

"Gee? You fell asleep there?" I joke with a chuckle. I would certainly turn to check on him if our position allowed me to.

It takes Gerard a moment, but he eventually moves; he adjusts his position, though still doesn't let go. "I can't stay away from you," he groans quietly and finally pulls away from me, stepping back to let me do what I need to before turning to him.

"We're in the same house," I tell him with a smile as taking the plate to the kitchen table, placing it with the rest of the food. "You're not really away from me if you're here, even more if you're just a few steps away." My purpose is mostly to tease him since I do know what he means. I don't think we do spend much time away from each other because we're often at least in the same room, whenever possible.

Gerard pouts as rolling his eyes, pulling me to a hug before I can notice. Sighing softly, I hug him back anyways, resting my head on his shoulder as enjoying the calming sensation he brings me. It feels like he's got something to say and there are a few specific options which would leave him in this shy state.

"Did you sleep well?" I ask, half of me curiously while the other half mostly wants him to start speaking and eventually feel encouraged to blurt out whatever he's holding back.

"Eh, kinda, y'know," Gerard says after a moment of thinking. I pull away to face him – he smiles shyly at me – and press my lips to his in a soft kiss. He hums appreciatively against my lips. The way his hands feel tense around my hips end up confirming my assumptions about something bugging him. Anyways, there must be a reason why he still didn't tell me about it, so I won't push it further.

.

"I think it'll rain later," I say as looking up – it's not like I can see the cloudy sky properly through the trees' leaves, but the specific cold wind going through them and giving us chills tells me enough. Averting my attention to Gerard, I see him looking up at the same direction I did seconds ago before his gaze moves to me.

"'Guess so," he replies, pulling on my hand again for us to continue walking; dry leaves and fallen sticks crack under our feet, creating a rather pleasing sound.

After we had lunch in a restaurant, he told me he'd like to come here for a walk in the woods and of course I accepted. I don't know if it's because I'm with him, but it always brings me certain peace. That's not something easy to explain, but it's calm. Like if there's no weight on hour shoulders. A kind of synchrony with... everything, I guess.

Gerard clearly wants to reach the clearing or maybe the creek, considering the way he takes. Both places are really beautiful and we usually go there many times since Gerard likes making sketches of the views. There are leaves and flowers pressed between the pages of his sketchbook – ones which I find in the way there and give him –, sometimes with something written. The places are naturally connected to a lot of happy memories.

Our plans, however, seem to change in the moment I feel the first cold, thick drop of rain falling on my hand. I plan to not mention about it – since Gerard seems determined to get there for some reason unknown to me –, but it's practically impossible with more and more drops following close. The rain catches us earlier than we thought.

A sigh escapes my lips as Gerard stops and furrows his eyebrows at the sky, like if silently cursing it. Behind the annoyed expression, I can notice an air of frustration.

"We should return," I tell him, pulling lightly on his hand. "'Don't want any of us catching a cold," I smile softly in an attempt of cheering him up. Gerard hums quietly as turning to look at me, nodding.

In our way back to the car, we barely exchange a word, more worried about rushing back to it. The atmosphere is noticeably heavier once we sit inside the car, in silence, with just the muffled sound of the rain against the car echoing in the small ambient besides our heavy breaths.

Gerard seems bothered and I wonder if I did something wrong. He looks out the windshield glass with an expression I can't really decipher and I observe him in an attempt of checking if my assumptions are right.

I'm startled with Gerard's eyes suddenly averting to me, blushing and about to apologize, but the unexpected smile over his face stops me from doing it. It doesn't seem forced, though the frustration didn't leave him, showing itself even in the way his shoulders fall.

He pulls me to a soft kiss, wordlessly comforting me and pushing away all my worry. Well, at least most of it.

"I love you," Gerard says softly, caressing my cheek lightly with his thumb while his other hand wraps around mine, both over my lap. "I've been falling in love with you since the first day we met."

A smile cracks my lips before I can notice and I can feel my cheeks burning again. I breathe a happy chuckle, "I love you more than you can ever imagine." I say back, softly. Carefully, I raise a hand to pull one of the now wet stands away from his face, smiling as I bring him for another kiss.

~

My attention is on my phone until I see Gerard in the walking in the room – the frustration is still present, though not as much as before. There's a smile on his face as he comes to sit down beside me, wrapping his arms around my torso as making himself comfortable next to me. He leans his head against my shoulder after pressing a kiss to my cheek and it's quite peaceful.

Just the faint sound coming from the until now neglected TV fills the room. It's a nice weekend, anyways, without anything much to do aside from lazy cuddles, even more with the cloudy weather.

"We should go outside," Gerard suggests out of sudden, his voice barely anything above a whisper. "It's going to rain again. I like watching the rain." He hums questioningly as nuzzling my neck, placing a kiss on it.

"Sounds nice," I smile, pressing a kiss to his head before reaching for the remote control to turn off the TV. How he was leaning against me, the sudden motion makes him fall to the couch without any warning – the playful complaining coming from him makes me laugh.

There's another couch in the back veranda – the place itself is quite wide, with a table where sometimes we'll have lunch when the others are over. It's also a good place to hang out, talk or even cuddle. The view of the garden is a nice one and Gerard likes to make sketches of it too. Or of anything that catches his attention, really, what's many things. So, of course, the familiar sketchbook is in his hand, along with his ink pens and charcoal pencils, as we walk to the outside.

The couch is cold, but not unpleasingly, quickly growing warm after we sit down on it. Gerard sits back on the couch, his sketchbook over the armrest for support. Meanwhile, I pull my legs over the cushion and lean against him; we're pretty much like in an exact inversion of the position we were in minutes ago.

"You feel like home," Gerard tells me suddenly, his voice quiet while his attention doesn't even leave his sketchbook. His words make me blush and crack a stupid smile; I bury my face in his shoulder, trying to hide my red cheeks.

"You do too." I press a kiss to his cheek, sighing happily as averting my eyes to the garden.

Just like earlier, the wind makes the trees' leaves and the plants shake, bringing more rain clouds with it and also creating a pleasing sound.

Our silence makes me think and, with the day unconsciously playing in my head, I notice something.

"You're being extra sweet today," I tell Gerard, playing with the folds of his hoodie over his arm. "Is there any special reason?" I ask more of teasingly, believing I'll finally find out whatever he's holding back. I don't really think there's anything apart from him just wanting to act sweeter or something similar, particularly, however, the way his cheeks redden do sparkle my curiosity.

Gerard opens his mouth to reply, his hand tightening a bit around his pencil, but nothing comes from him at first. He glances at me with an emotion I can't really identify and seems to have given up on saying something before finally speaking up.

"No, I," he shrugs, "I just wanted to." The red tone on his cheeks intensify as he twists his lips lightly whenever nervous, looking at me by the corner of his eyes.

A chuckle escapes my lips and I reply, "okay then." Well, it's probably to do with earlier – both the tension from the morning and whatever related to the woods earlier, but I can't think about what it could possibly be neither am I going to question him about it directly. At least yet.

Sighing happily, I lean my head against his shoulder again, my attention averting to the garden. It's not exactly sleepiness, but a similar feeling takes over me with all the comfort brought by the situation.

Unlike earlier, the raindrops that start falling from the sky are thin, signing that the rain will certainly last longer. It makes both of us noticeably relax with the new mood we're set in. I play with the hem of Gerard's hoodie, unconsciously trying to find a pattern in the sounds of the pencil against the paper and the small motions of his arm.

Suddenly, I'm pulled away from my thoughts. Gerard's sketchbook is held out in front of me and I instinctively take it in hand, looking at Gerard in seek for any explanation just to be met with none.

I try waiting, but I'm just able to notice he's probably blushing and I don't know if the fact of what's visible of his face being covered with hair proves it or not. Shrugging lightly, I turn to the sketchbook to see what's it.

A detailed drawing of Gerard and I is on the pages, with a few things written and some flower petals pressed to the paper. I take my time to observe the drawing – that's truly wonderful –, taking in all the details, before my attention moves to what's written.

You make every day worth living. You've shown me what love feels like. Will you marry me?

The question makes me freeze – my heart skips a beat and I'm left without reaction at first, with it coming out of sudden – and I can feel Gerard tensing up beside me due to it. What brings me back to reality is the pencil being held out towards me. He's probably not even looking at me, if I know him well, but it's not like I've got the guts to face him just yet.

As I stare at the page with my pencil in hand, I start reasoning everything and I notice that it's probably what he's been wanting to tell me the whole day. Maybe he was going to propose when we were in the woods, what justifies his frustration with the rain. My thoughts end up turning incoherent and just notice it when the of course is already written on the page in a shaky, nervous letter. I add a heart in the end before returning it to Gerard.

My eyes observe Gerard with certain excitement as he hesitantly looks at the sketchbook. His surprise is honestly confusing to me, but he eventually turns to me with glassy eyes and bright red cheeks, his eyes on the floor.

"Thank you for staying with me," he mutters almost inaudibly, shyly.

I don't move until I can't hold back anymore the happiness in my chest. I carefully set the sketchbook aside before tackling him in a hug.

"Oh, look at you! It's not something you need to be thankful for, I'm with you because I love you!" I say with a happy chuckle, wrapping my arms tightly around him and burying my face in the crook of his neck, too embarrassed to let him see my reaction.

Honestly, I never thought anyone would – or could – like me that much and maybe I'm even worried if Gerard is sure about that. However, the happiness is overwhelming. He chuckles lightly and I can feel him rubbing my back, playing lightly with my hair before a kiss is pressed to my head.

[static-fanatic-1]

Day Two

-| Stuck at A StandStill |-

StandStill: Chapter Three

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: Foul Language, Bullying.

Komori didn't really appreciate being in second place. Out of everyone in his school he went against one of the weakest students, and yet he got second in a two person race.

That isn't something to be proud of.

And it made his blood boil to no end.

With a bubbling jealousy and a rough plan in mind, the second day of U.A would be the beginning of his call to action. Of course he had some help, another student who resented class 1-A. He was blond and had a stare that pierced daggers through anyone he looked at. He had a smile that called you an asshole and an attitude that was too envious even for Komori.

His name was Monoma, and he would help him finally break Aiko down. Once she's out of the way with a mind as malleable as clay, he'll be able to shape her into his ideal version of herself. It'll be easy, just a little bit of manipulation to do so.

Komori sauntered his way into the school. His uniform was loose and he didn't bother fixing the tie around his neck. As long as he has the components of his uniform the teachers won't bother him.

His plum eyes glanced around at the students piling into the school, each one different than the others. Some had spiraling blue hair and doe like eyes while others had fur like manes. Teeth, horns, tails and more created a mythical atmosphere while some people had mechanical parts attached to their limbs. Some people even looked normal, well as normal as someone can be in a quirk infested world.

The bat child wasn't paying attention, and his shoulder bumped into someone else. "Tsk, watch it." He growled, turning to face the kid beside him.

He was tall, about as tall as Komori minus his ears, and they both shared a pair of glasses. Though he smiled, nervously, a extended his hand in good fortune. "I'm sorry about that, I'll take better care in watching where I am going."

Komori's sharp teeth gleamed past his pink lips. "Yeah, whatever." He turned his body away and waved his wings behind his back to dismiss the other student. "Just stay out of my way."

Iida furrowed his brows and pursed his lips in a scowl. "What a... nice fellow." He whispered, watching the bat saunter further into the school. Iida pushes up his glasses and turned to his locker.

Behind him he could hear heavy breathing and the clatter of shoes. He turned and waved his hand, shutting his own locker in the process. "Hello Aiko! Are you alright?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah! I just woke up late." She brushed her curly pink bangs from her sweaty forehead.

"Late? You're early, there are fifteen minutes before the ten minute bell."

Aiko whipped her head around with a pause. "Wait, what time is it?"

Iida lifted his wrist and pulled back his sleeve. "It is five minutes past eight."

"Really?! My alarm must have been off." She lightly chuckled, it was nervous and stressed. "I'll have to fix that when I get home. Uh, how have you been, Iida?"

He smacked a hand onto his chest and happily smiled. "My day is going wonderfully so far! And you?"

Aiko blushed. "I'm doing good." She shut her locker and fixed her backpack. "I guess we should go ahead and head to class huh?"

"Of course! All the top students are early to class!" Iida grabbed Aiko's hand and dragged her to the classroom with a grin plastered onto his strong features.

The hallways were the most uncrowded Aiko has ever seen. Being so early meant most of the students hung out around the lockers, conversing about whatever came to mind. Most seemed to be second or third years, while a few were first years who wanted to know the ropes.

Iida stopped near the door, not exactly in front of it, but close enough to not raise suspicion. Though, she should have guess something was wrong with someone as meticulous as Iida.

She glanced past his broad shoulder and was greeted with a face full of leathery wings. "Oh look who it is. The twat and the slapper. Seems they don't care who gets into class 1-a."

Iida moved back a bit, kinda stumbling over Aiko in the process. "Twat? Slapper?" He furrowed his brows at the insults, wait, were they even insults?

"You heard me." Komori pushed, stretching out his large wings to size Iida up. "Twat." Plum eyes scanned the figure behind Iida, a toothy grin stretching across his lips. "And slapper."

Aiko bit her lip, now the time to grow a backbone, she thought. He can insult me as much as he wanted but insulting a friend was out of the question. 'Say something. Tell him off!'

"Are you just going to stand there, mouth open like a fish out of water?" He mused, sidestepping to face her fully. "Or are you too terrified?" He leaned down, sharp teeth only a few inches away from nipping at her nose.

"Leave her alone." Snapped Iida, placing a large hand upon the aggressors shoulder. "There is a zero tolerance for bullying at U.A."

"Tsk, like that matters." The bat shrugged off the hand with a scoff, turning his back and ruffling with wings once more. His thin tail swished behind his lanky form with a newfound vigor. As if he enjoyed the challenge despite being seemingly annoyed. "But seriously, this is what the legendary class 1-A has to offer? A kid who can run fast and some girl with a useless quirk? Where's the competition?"

"Leave us alone, Komori. If we aren't worth your time why are you wasting it?" Snapped Aiko, finally building a bit of a backbone.

Komori turned and glared, his signature grin now faltering into something of mixed surprise and malice. He didn't need words to tell her to shut her pretty little mouth.

The tension was high and the thickness of the air could only be cut through with a sharp blade. Luckily, it seemed Iida was that sharp blade. He placed a warm hand on the small of her back to support the backbone. "We'll be taking our leave." Iida's tone was sharp, strong and defensive, warning Komori to back off and leave them alone before things get too ugly.

Komori watched with a malevolent glare through his shimmering glasses. "Just needed to make sure you knew your place."

The two students of class 1-A watched the bat walk away, his figure disappearing behind the doorframe of the class over. There was a pregnant silence between Aiko and Iida as they entered their classroom.

They were the only ones so far, so they stood next to each other and soaked in the new student they met. "Aiko, May I ask you a question?"

She hummed in approval, placing her bag down and giving him her undivided attention.

"Komori... do you know him?"

"Oh, yeah. We went to the same school ever since we were kids. He... always bullied me. I'm kind of used to it by now." She gave a small chuckle and avoided eye contact. Instead she decided her sketchbook cover was far more interesting than Iida's concerned eyes. "I wouldn't worry too much about him. He's all bark no bite."

Iida has never been bullied, at least not to his face. Every once in a while in middle school, a student would talk about him behind his back. Thing like his strange body language, intelligence, or physical appearance. He never thought too much about it, only that they must be jealous of his hard work. Still, that doesn't mean it didn't hurt.

"Well, tell me if you have any problem then." His hand pointed to Aiko and a comforting smile stretched across his thin lips.

"Th-thank you. I appreciate it." She really did, it wasn't everyday someone would help her stand up to a past bully. It actually never happened, not even her past teachers did anything other than scolding Komori.

Iida sat down in his seat and awaited the start of class. She guessed the conversation was over. Though it didn't feel over, Aiko couldn't help but linger on the kindness from her classmate. His words echoed trough her head as she sketched away her future hero costume. She made a few changes from her current costume, some she actually liked, but she could do that once she goes big after school.

Once she became a hero, all of her problems would fade away to nothing. All she'll have to do is battle against her family's killer: All for One.

The door to the classroom opened, the green haired boy labeled Izuku shuffling into the room. More students entered, each one with their own gait.

Then there was the teacher, he really was a strange man. He still looked like a gruff cat of sorts with yellow goggles. The scarf around his neck hung loosely on top his slouched shoulders. In his hands was a small stack of papers, he straightened them up in the pedestal in front of the class and readied himself for the rest of the students.

Once class started, Mr. Aizawa cleated his throat and began. "Today I am going to give you the class syllabus. I would read it carefully and thoroughly, if you don't you will miss something important." He flipped to the back of one of the papers. "We will need your parent's signature and your own, as well as a class fee and other important information. Again, look over it completely. You need to turn it in by this Friday."

~~~

Nothing too important happened, introductions, classes, teachers. Some were eccentric like the Voice Hero Present Mic, and some were... R-rated like Midnight.

Still, Aiko was giddy with excitement. She would be taught by heroes! Professional heroes! The young girl couldn't help but bounce her leg beneath her desk, tap her pencil on her sketchbook, and nibble her lip between her teeth.

She dug her hands into her backpack to fish out her binder. One section for each class, right now with different syllabuses and paperwork. She already took out her pen and signed everything, so she just had to ask Ms. Takahashi to do her part.

Aiko wasn't too focused on the door, well, until it burst open with s gust of wind. "Hahaha! Hello there!"

Everyone jumped from their seats with a newfound vigor, yelping and jumping with smiles that rivaled his own. All Might! In class 1-A! "All Might!" Even Aiko couldn't handle her excitement!

He continued to chuckle, swaying his way inside with Aizawa and shutting the door behind him. "Hello young heroes! I would introduce myself but I'm sure you already know who I am! Number one hero-" he turned to his side and flexed his muscles to the class "ALL MIGHT!!"

Out of everyone in the class, no one was as excited as Aiko. Even that kid with the freckles and green hair had nothing on the beaming smile and jumping Aiko was doing. She couldn't help it! All Might was more than her hero! He was kinda like a messiah for anyone in the Hero community! And Aiko was becoming a hero!

"This year will be an eventful one, as I have decided to help train the new generation of aspiring heroes!" He returned to standing straight and tall, towering over everyone in the room. He set his fists on his hips and continued. "I, as well as all the other teachers, will do our best to mold you into fine, young heroes! Bravery! Integrity! Compassion and hope are all necessary for someone to be the best hero they can be!”

He threw his head in a cheerful laugh, the entire class clapping from the small speech. All of them would become heroes and nothing would stop them! Aiko couldn't help the rush of excitement either!

All Might evaluates the class, each one a rising hero with promise. Finally, his eyes landed on Midoriya, and his smile grew just a bit more, yeah, he chose one good successor!

"Hurry up, All Might." Aizawa pushes, moving to his desk and tapping away on his computer.

"Right right." The number one rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry. Anyways, I have your syllabus' right here for my class. I will read most of it out, the important stuff at least, and then I'll ask you a question I would like you all to answer. So, let begin shall we?"

All Might, with his theatrical voice, wasn't the best at reading out loud. He stuttered more than any other teacher, and Aiko couldn't get past the funny tone he always wore. Imagine an over exaggerated, comedy relief character trying to read something serious. It's more entertaining than anything.

"Finally, the question I want to ask all of you is, what do you think makes a good hero?"

Iida raised his hand first, his entire body leaning up to the roof. Momo was the same, her hand stretched high above her head and even higher against all the other classmates. Though, All Might seemed to be a bit nicer to the shyer students, his first choice was a kid in the back with white and red hair, and a scar across his right heterochromia eyes.

"Go on, introduce yourself first, then answer the question."

All eyes took in the student in the back, his body shriveled and his hand slowly dipping down to his side. His face portrayed a different story, instead of being reserved and shy, there was a hint of distaste as his brows furrowed together. "My name is Todoroki Shoto, and I believe what makes a good hero is someone who protects people. Someone who doesn't hurt others needlessly, and instead helps them when they need it."

Aiko glanced back at All Might, the cryptic message seemed to make the number one hero uncomfortable. Weird.

"Of course! A good hero always puts others before themselves, and makes sure the masses are safe against villain attacks!" He moved on to the next student, the infamously pissed blond who seemed to not care at all given his posture. "And what about you?"

"Bakugou Katsuki," he introduced, springing up from his chair when he began the second part. "What makes the best hero is being on top! Winning and taking down useless villains!"

All Might stuttered. "We-well of course winning against villains is important! But winning isn't exactly what makes a hero. It is important to think of victory as a means to save as many civilians as possible." The pro hero moved on to another student, then another one, and another one, until he landed on Aiko.

She didn't even realize her hand was up, too excited to even think correctly. Her bright features dulled down, what was she going to say?! Revenge? Helping people like herself? That'd defiantly get Mr. and Mrs. Takahashi in trouble... they would hate that.

"My name is Takahashi Aiko and I think what makes a good hero is... helping people who can't help themselves. Through anything, like helping the elderly cross the street or helping someone with their homework."

All Might smiled. "That's a perfect example of what makes a good hero! Being a hero isn't always about fighting villains or saving civilians, it is also about being a good role model for the people who look up to you."

His theatrics didn't end when the bell rang, and he dashed out of the class with a strength matched by only one. Aiko was beyond excited, beyond proud! Talking in front of a class is difficult and she did it without any hiccups.

Seeing All Might, being brave, and making friends counts as a win in her book.

Iida wondered into view, his glasses falling slightly down his nose with a pleased grin. "Can you believe it?! All Might will be teaching us heroics! It's the chance of a life time!"

"Yeah!" Aiko began. "I can't believe it either! He's my hero."

"Mine too, I've always looked up to All Might. He's the world's best hero, there's no competition!" Iida finished collecting his things and waited, two more people wondering over. One was Uraraka, the cute brown haired girl with flushing cheeks. The other one was the green haired kid with cute freckles, Izuku maybe? "This is Uraraka and Izuku, we were in the same entrance exam."

Aiko gave a gentle smile. "Hi, I'm Aiko. I met Iida at my locker, his is across mine." She shrugged and stuffed her sketchbook into her back. "You guys can go ahead and get a table, I wanted to stay after class a few minutes."

"Sure!" Uraraka smiled and threw up a few thumbs up. "We'll save you a seat!"

"Sounds good." Aiko grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder. She waved away the small ground and looked around the busy halls, where did All Might go? From the path of talking students, her probably went in the opposite direction of the cafeteria. Would it be okay to see him?

She bit her lip, this would probably be the only time she could talk to him privately, after all he's probably really busy already. It would just be better to get what she's itching to say out of the way. Silver eyes glanced at her homeroom teacher, he was sitting at his desk, shifting through some papers with a bored expression.

He looks too busy to be bothered, so the aspiring hero trotted off into the hallways with vigor in her step. Passing through the cluttered halls, Aiko rushed through the crowds of students and past class 1-B.

Until she stumbled to the side form bumping into someone. "Sorry! Sorry!" She yelped, catching herself and grabbing the shoulders of the figure she hit. "I wasn't watching where I was going!"

The blond ran his hand through his hair, his too gleeful grin plastered onto his now visible face. "This is class 1-A? Pathetic! Can't even watch their own feet!" He cackled through his disturbing grin and held his pained chest. "Seriously?!"

The pink haired girl stumbled back, once again almost tripping on her feet. "I-I'm sorry?"

"Sorry? You don't even know how to apologize? Useless, hahaha!" He continued to imitate a hyena as another figure showed up... and smacked him across the back of the head.

"That's no way to talk to a fellow student!" The new figure chided, using her hand to swipe away the red ponytail form her shoulder. "Sorry about him, he's always been like this since we started class. Don't know why." She shyly laughed to herself. "My name's Itsuka Kendo by the way, if he ever does this again, just call me."

"S-sure?" Aiko gave a scared smile. "Uh, thanks—oh! Do you know where All Might went?"

"All Might?" Her face flashed with excitement. "Yeah! We went to the teacher's lounge over in that direction." She pointed her thumb behind her. "Anyway, I should take him to the lunchroom, ya' know?"

"Right, uh, thanks by the way... Kendo. I appreciate it." She glanced to the side, movement catching her eye.

Komori stared into her soul form behind Kendo, a snark plastered onto his features. He scoffed and walked off with his clawed hands into his pockets.

Kendo didn't notice Komori and instead smiled at Aiko's discomfort. "We honestly think he's an escapee from Tartarus or something." She giggles at her joke to try and lift the mood.

It worked. The two exchanged a little laugh. "I'll see you around I guess."

"Defiantly! See you later-?"

"Aiko, you too." Both separated their own ways, and continued their missions.

The pink haired girl ran through the halls and stopped in front of sign high on the wall. Big, bold letters told her she finally made it to the teacher's lounge. God, was she really going to go through with this?

The door opened before she could bail, a small mouse with the most adorable suit she had ever seen walked out. He had the cutest smile on his face with beady, black eyes that shimmered with momentary surprise. "Hello there!" He began, waving around a tiny paw. "How May I help you?"

She knew who this cute mouse was, and it only made her more regretful of her decision, would he be angry at her? "I-I-umm, I just-I was meaning to-uh-ask Mr. Might a question. I-I can ask another time if he is busy."

All Might jumped at her voice, quickly scurrying away from the view of the door. He wasn't in his All Might form, and if a student already figured out his secret, god that would be difficult to deal with. Still, he listened in, wondering what she might have been wanting to ask. He should go out there right? A little more time wouldn't kill him, besides he needed to be a role model right?

Taking a deep breath he inflated, fixed his suit and leaned into the doors entrance. "Hello there-er-little miss."

Her eyes shined a bit brighter, and Nezu glanced behind him with a raised brow. Toshinori grew his smile to reassure the little mouse.

"Sorry to bother you sir, I was just wondering if I could ask a question about earlier?"

He thought for a moment and remembered which class she might have been from. Oh! Right, the one he was just in. "Of course! What did you want to ask?" He fixed his posture and leaned on the door, waiting for her to continue, but she didn't right away. Instead she glanced over at Nezu nervously and fiddled with her hands.

"I'll see you at the office room, All Might." Nezu said, shuffling away with another cute wave.

The teacher and student watched him walk off before looking at each other once more. "Um, I was thinking about what you said, about what makes a hero, but would it be wrong for someone to want... revenge?"

The question took him by surprise. Revenge? Such a fickle idea split between right and wrong, would it be bad to want revenge? He didn't think so, after all an ulterior motive of him being a hero was also once revenge. "You want to be a hero for revenge? Who are you after?"

She blushed, clearly embarrassed. "It's a bit of a long story, but six years or so ago you saved me from a villain attack. My family didn't make it, but if you weren't there I'm sure more people would have died! If it wasn't for you I probably wouldn't be here, that's why I idolize you!"

"Six years ago? I'm sorry I don't remember much about villain attacks back then." He rubbed the back of his neck with a shy smile. "It's been quite a while."

Aiko shuffled on her feet. "It was a major attack in one of the rich districts, it has been rebuilt since then."

All Might thought deeply about her words, it's normal for villains to attack wealthy districts or shopping centers, either to get hostages or to steal. Her words didn't really make it easy to remember.

Then he thought about what happened six years ago, the scar along his torso tingling form a long lost memory. With that in mind, he would just base her experience after what he remembers in that fight. He couldn't forget that fight. "I think I remember, there was a lot of collateral damage, I'm sorry for your loss."

She smiled a sad smile and avoided eye contact. "Don't worry, you saved my life... and it wasn't your fault. I just want to find that villain and put him to justice for what he did, is that wrong?"

He snapped out of his thoughts, a small head of sweat dropping down his high cheekbones. "Of course it isn't, revenge can be a bad thing, but I think you are justified in wanting to find this missing villain." He shook his head to clear his mind. "You seem like such a sweet, young girl. There is no doubt in my mind you can put that villain to justice and make your family proud."

He placed a large hand on her shoulder and crouched down. Shadowed blue eyes now stared into weary silver ones. "You will be an amazing hero one day, I can tell."

"Th-Thank you, Mr. Might. Hearing that from my hero means more than you think." She glanced down at her hands, a loose nail catching her eyes, must have been from her fiddling. "Thank you, I was worried you'd think it was wrong."

"Everyone has their motives, some more selfish than others, wanting justice is on the selfless side of the spectrum." He stood up to his full height and flashed a smile. "And if it makes you feel any better, I find it admirable to want to justice."

Aiko blushed a deep crimson, did her hero seriously just call her admirable?! Is she dreaming?! No, she isn't, and the man in front of her wasn't just a made up fantasy. She was actually talking to the number one, her literal savior. "Th-Thank you! I promise to be the best hero I can be! I promise to put that man to justice and make you proud!"

With that she dashed off, her hands gripping her hair over her face to cover her blazing cheeks.

All Might chuckled, these students really seemed like a promising bunch huh?

[fantastic-bby]

Inked

Pairing: (F)Reader x Mark

Word count: 6.6k (my writing’s starting to get slightly longer owo)

Genre: Romance, soulmate au, Idol!Mark, Non-Idol!Reader

Summary: In a world where the tattoos would be shared among soulmates, Mark uses this to his advantage in an attempt in locating his soulmate. Unexpectedly, his soulmate ends up getting a tattoo that’s completely different than what he would usually get in an attempt to remind him that she exists. Unbeknownst to them, her tattoo is the one that brings them together...

Warnings: None

Playlist: Falling For You - Peachy! || Chocolate - The 1975 || Let Me - Got7 || Page - Got7

Soulmate series: Jaebeom - Strings || Jackson - Bubbles || Jinyoung - Masked || Youngjae - Drawings || BamBam - Footprints || Yugyeom - Pieces

The stinging on your calf was what woke you up. You moved to the full body mirror to see what it was and was shocked to see a large cross forming on your now irritated skin. You scrunch your face in annoyance; whatever tattoo your soulmate would get would appear on your own skin. 

You had already gone through three other tattoos and you felt every second of the needle as the designs were unwantedly inked into your skin. 

You had yet to find your soulmate and it seemed as though they just didn’t seem to bother that their soulmate would have the same tattoos and feel the same pain. It was a bit strange, but the only marks that you two would share were tattoos. Other soulmates would share bruises and feel pain whenever their soulmate would get injured, but not you. 

You only got their tattoos.

The first and second tattoos that appeared were a pair of dates written in roman numbers on your rib cage. You hated the fact that your soulmate chose their first tattoo on one of the most painful places to get a tattoo since you had to experience the grueling pain of it. 

The second tattoo that appeared was the word “Truth” on your inner bicep. You actually admired that tattoo. There was probably a more meaningful story behind it from your soulmate’s side, but you liked it because somehow, it resonated with you. 

This cross that was drawn on your calf was the third. Despite how beautiful the cross was turning out, you were annoyed that it woke you up at 2 a.m. You scolded your soulmate in your mind as you made your way back into bed - being careful not to bump your calf anywhere - and decided to try and sleep.

You woke up in the morning to the sound of your roommate moving around the apartment. 

“Haneul eonnie?” You questioned tiredly when you saw her limping towards the kitchen from her room. 

“Did I wake you?” She asked as she turned to you, “Leo got a tattoo on his fucking foot. It hurts like hell.” She grumbled when she showed the outline of a rose on her foot. 

“Damn,” You muttered out with a yawn, “I have a huge cross on my calf.” You turned around to show her the design. 

“Your soulmate really likes tattoos.” She pointed out as she pulled out a few eggs from the fridge. 

“It seems that way.” You sighed as you made your own way into the kitchen and pulled bacon out of the freezer. “I already have three other tattoos and whoever it is just keeps adding to it.” You mutter out. 

“They’re pretty, though.” Haneul points out as she turned the stove on, “I guess we’re both lucky our soulmates have nice tastes in tattoos.” She chuckles. 

“It might be a bit of a problem since the cross is in more of an obvious place,” You point out as you turn down to look at it, “But I think it’s really nice.” You smiled as you admire the rose design that filled the inside of the cross. 

“Why don't you get a tattoo?” She questioned. 

“I technically already have.” You looked at her in confusion as you gestured to the cross and the one on your inner bicep. 

“No, I mean why not you get one in person. Challenge your soulmate, (Y/n).” She clarified, “Get something simple but in a place they’ll have to look at all the time. Then they’ll remember that their tattoos are projected onto another person.” She explained.

“I’ll think about it.” You nodded. You did think about it. The thought sat in your head for the next few days. It was a good idea to get back at your soulmate for inking themselves constantly and causing you pain and discomfort. 

That led you to looking up small but cute tattoos while you sit in your room with your laptop in front of you. You were looking at an abundance of designs but only one seemed to stand out from the rest. You saved the design into your phone and left your room to see Haneul sitting on her couch with her soulmate - who also happened to be your best friend - Leo.

“I think I finally found a design that I like.” You announced to the two and showed them your phone. Haneul moved forward a bit to get a closer look at it, 

“Cute.” She smiled. 

“It’s simple.” Leo nodded. 

“Where are you getting it?” Haneul asked when she leaned back against the couch. 

“Probably on the collarbone. I don’t feel like troubling them too much with it. I just want to let them know, ‘hey, I’m here’.” You said as you looked at the design once again. 

“Why a paper plane?” Leo questioned as he slung his arm around Haneul’s shoulders. 

“I just think it’s cute.” You shrugged. “I don’t really have a meaning for it. It’s cute, it’s small and I think it’ll be a nice tattoo.” You look away from your phone to look at him nodding. 

“It is cute. But if you guys end up meeting because of this tattoo, let each other know if you’re getting another one.” Haneul grumbled when she glanced over at Leo. 

“I gave you a heads up.” He defended himself. 

“Yeah, while you were getting the tattoo.” She snapped at him. “I think it's a nice tattoo, (Y/n).” 

“When are you getting it? I can take you to the place I got mine.” Leo offered. 

“Really?” You questioned. When he nodded, you smiled, “Are you free tomorrow?”

“What about today?” She suggested. “You’ll be done in no time. It’s small.” She turned to her soulmate who shrugged.

“I’m free anytime this week.” 

“I don’t really want to disturb your together time so I’ll get it tomorrow.” You shake your head. 

“If you get it later, I’ll follow. I wanna see your reaction when you get the tattoo.” Haneul gave you a cheeky smile. 

At the tattoo parlor was where Haneul followed you and Leo. You gave in after a while and just decided ‘fuck it’. Leo drove the two of you into town where the parlor was and you couldn’t help but feel nervous as you looked at the design on your phone throughout the drive. 

“Are you coming in?” Haneul asked Leo when he parked the car outside the parlor. 

“I’m not missing (Y/n) getting her first tattoo.” He snorted as he unclipped the seatbelt. “I know the guy who owns this place so it’ll be nice to talk to him again.” He led you inside the small lot and greeted the man at the counter. The man had a complete tattoo sleeve covering his right arm and what looked like a half finished sleeve on his other. 

“Hyung!” The man’s face lit up when he saw him walk in, the name Han written on a nametag on his shirt. “Getting another tattoo?” He asked but when his eyes moved to the two of you following behind Leo he understood, “Ah, okay. I assume one of them is getting it.” 

“Yeah, Haneul isn’t exactly happy that I got the tattoo without telling her.” Leo chuckled and gestured his head over to Han when he looked at you. 

“This one?” He questioned. You nodded shyly and pulled your phone out of the pocket of your shorts to show him the design. Han looked at it and led you behind the black curtains that separate the rooms. 

“How long will it take?” You questioned as the nerves continued to build up when your brain realised what you were doing. 

“It’s a small tattoo. Probably an hour or two. Maybe less.” He shrugs as he pats on the leather chair. You sit in the chair and feel your palms start to sweat as Haneul and Leo watch you from the door. 

“We can’t join you over there because of a sanitary issue.” Leo informed when he remembered how his own friend had to wait for him when he was getting his tattoo. You watched Han move back and forth at the shelves. 

“No colours?” He glanced over at you when he sat at the sketching table. You bit your lip as you thought about it while looking at your phone. 

“A splash of watercolour behind it?” Your voice came out small when you felt as though the colouring would make it into too much of a cliche tattoo. 

“Alright.” He smiled kindly as he started to sketch out the tattoo. “Do you have any other tattoos?” He asked without taking his attention off of the paper. 

“I have another three but it’s because my soulmate keeps getting tattoos.” You extend your leg out to show him the cross on your calf. 

“Your soulmate seems to have an eye for tattoos or some kind of common sense not to get anything stupid tattooed on them. That’s a really lovely tattoo.” He hummed out as he stood up, “How’s this?” He showed you the stencil of the paper plane. He had added a trail of dotted lines and outlines of clouds. “I’ll colour in the clouds, don’t worry.” He smiled and moved over to the chair that was beside you when you nodded. You pulled down the strap of your tank top to expose your collarbone.

He placed the stencil onto your skin and pulled the paper away to reveal the blue outline of the design before rubbing your skin with numbing gel. 

The sound of the tattoo gun starting only heightened your nerves and your entire body was starting to sweat. Haneul and Leo continued to watch, both with pure amusement plastered all over their faces when the needle hit your skin. 

“Holy shit!” You yelped out. The constant sting of the needle got worse when it got closer to your collarbone and you could feel actual tears pricking your eyes from how painful it was.

“Yeah, the collarbone is pretty painful.” Han chuckled as he continued his work. You glared at Haneul when she started to giggle at you. 

“(Y/n) just has a low pain tolerance.” She snickered at you when you managed to give her the middle finger. 

“It’s not a problem.” Han glanced up at you for a moment. “It hurts more to get the tattoo yourself compared to when your soulmate gets one.” 

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I was thinking.” You mutter through a grimace. “This hurts way more than the rib cage one they got.” You glanced down to see him still outlining the plane. 

After another agonizing hour and a half, the tattoo was done. Han moved up from you and put away the tattoo gun on the metal table. 

“Finished.” He clapped his gloved hands together. “You guys can come closer now.” He ushered over the couple standing by the doorway. 

“You feeling okay?” Haneul asked as she moved over to your side. You nodded at her and adjusted yourself in your seat, your lower half feeling numb from sitting for too long.

“Yeah, it became bearable after a while.” You mutter out. 

“You can take a look at it in the mirror over there.” Han pointed out to the full body mirror sitting in the corner of the room as he prepared the plastic wrap. You moved over to the mirror and looked at the tattoo. 

“Oh, it’s so cute.” You cooed with a smile growing on your face when you saw the design sitting right under your collarbone.

“Now, you have something that contrasts the tattoos your soulmate keeps getting.” She smiled when she looked at the tattoo through the mirror as well. 

»»————-　　————-««

“Woah, that’s new.” Jackson pointed out when Mark sat up, tiredly rubbing his eyes. He squinted his eyes at his roommate through the pain of the throbbing headache; a painful souvenir from the night before.

“What?” He muttered out.

“You have a new tattoo.” Jackson pointed at the irritated skin of his collarbone. Mark looked down and his eyes widened when he saw the paper plane. “I guess your soulmate’s tired of you always getting tattoos.” He snickered. Mark groggily sat up from his bed and moved over to his closet, opening it to look in the mirror that hung off of the closet door. 

“I guess they are.” He muttered when he got a full look at the new tattoo. He wasn’t used to any colour being on his tattoos, but he liked it. It was simple. 

“It’s cute.” Jackson tilted his head to look at it properly. Mark nodded, 

“I like it.” He stated, gently running his fingers along the red skin and being careful not to apply any pressure to it. “I wonder what timezone they’re in since it happened while I was sleeping.” He hummed out as he ran a hair through his messy bed hair. 

“If you’re sleeping when this showed up, then that probably means you keep getting tattoos while they’re sleeping.” Jackson spoke as he threw on a shirt. Mark stared at himself in the mirror as he thought about it. A small sense of guilt washed over him when he realised that maybe they were sleeping whenever he was getting his tattoos. 

“Damn,” Mark sighed out as he looked down at his rib cage through the mirror. “That makes me feel bad.” 

“Maybe this is their way of reminding you they exist.” He joked. 

Mark spent the next few days completely obsessed with his new tattoo. He strangely felt more connected to his soulmate even though the tattoo was the only response he had ever gotten from them. His group always caught him silently admiring the tattoo in between schedules whenever he’d be shirtless or whenever he was wearing a low cut shirt. 

“Mark hyung, you’re really into it, huh?” Jinyoung asked when he walked into the changing room to see his older member staring at the vanity mirror while holding his shirt in his left hand. 

“I just think it’s really cute.” Mark muttered out without much attention towards Jinyoung. 

“Don’t spend too much time looking at it. We have to get ready for the show.”Jaebeom patted Mark on the back lightly as he walked past them. 

Right, the show. 

Mark was hoping that maybe he could find his soulmate wherever they were while they were on tour but so far he hadn’t felt much whenever they had fansigns or hi touches. 

The rest of his group had described their experience with their soulmates as a fire in their soul being ignited. Mark remembered asking Jackson about how he felt when he met his soulmate and distinctly remembers their conversation that night in their hotel room. 

“It felt like I suddenly saw everything in colour.” He explained. “I never knew how empty I actually felt until I met her.” 

“Is it like how other people describe it?” Mark asked. 

“Other people described it as an explosion in their soul. I think everyone feels it differently.” Jackson shrugged. “But I do remember feeling like everything in my body was just warm and I remember feeling so fucking happy.”

That was the feeling Mark was yearning for. The feeling of suddenly finding the person he was meant to spend forever with. The person he was connected with by soul. 

“Do you think maybe he’ll meet them soon?” Yugyeom whispered to Youngjae as they stood at the other end of the room. 

“Hopefully.” Youngjae shrugged. “He’s really into that tattoo. He doesn’t even appreciate his own tattoos this much.” He chuckled. 

“The tour might make it easier, but what if his soulmate’s in a location we’re not going to?” BamBam mentioned, making them all turn to him. 

“That is a possibility.” Youngjae nodded. 

“They could be in Korea for all we know.” Yugyeom pointed out with his bottom lip caught between his teeth. 

“He’s the only one who hasn’t found his soulmate yet. I feel bad for him.” BamBam sighed as they turned back to Mark to see him tracing his tattoo with his fingers. 

“Attention away from him or he might get snappy.” Jinyoung ushered as he approached them. “You know how he feels about the whole soulmate issue.” He spoke to them softly.

“You feeling hopeful?” Jackson asked Mark, tearing his attention away from the tattoo to finally put on the black tank top he was wearing for the concert. 

“About what?” Mark hummed out in question. 

“The tattoo.” He turned to Jackson and shrugged, 

“I don’t know when I’ll meet them or if I’ll ever meet them. I just like the tattoo and it makes me feel closer to them.” He smiled slightly at him but Jackson could see the sadness that was hiding behind his eyes. 

They were all aware that Mark could be slightly sensitive about the topic of soulmates, but he never really showed much sensitivity unless he was angry. Jackson could see how much despair Mark was in that he still hadn’t even come close to finding his soulmate. 

Every time Mark got a tattoo, he was secretly hoping he would find someone with the same exact tattoos. Thus, why he had gotten such a big tattoo in such an obvious place. He was hoping that he would bump into someone who had the same cross in the same place. He wanted to find his soulmate with the cross. 

“Mark hyung.” Yugyeom’s voice pulled Mark out of thought and made him turn to his younger member. “We need to go.” He gestured his head to the stage and Mark nodded, 

“Okay, let’s go.” 

»»————-　　————-««

You opened the front door with your eyes squinted at Leo. 

“Haneul eonnie isn’t here.” You grumble out as you rub your eyes from the evening nap that Leo had ever so rudely woken you from by ringing your doorbell. 

“Is it wrong for me to see my best friend? I needed to see you.” He said as he pushed past you and into the apartment. Your eyes only squinted even more at his words when you turn around to face him after you close the door. 

“Oppa, I know I said you practically live here too, but seriously?” You throw your arms up in the air in annoyance when his back was turned to you with his attention on his phone. You cross your arms over your chest when he turns around and holds his phone up in front of your face, 

“Look familiar?” He questions. You let your eyes adjust to the screen and your jaw goes slack when you see what he’s talking about. You yanked his phone out of his hands and zoom in on the picture or the large cross tattooed on the calf of non other than Mark Tuan from Got7. 

“Holy shit.” You mutter as you look back at him, “Does he have any of the other tattoos?”

Leo takes his phone back, “There’s really blurry pictures of others but look,” He showed you another picture of the tattoos on his bicep and rib cage, “Don’t you have these too?” He gestured to the tattoo on your inner bicep that was slightly showing from under the sleeve of your shirt. 

“No way.” You whisper in slight disbelief, “It could be a coincidence.” You shake your head. Leo raises an eyebrow at you before turning his phone back to himself. 

“It would be a coincidence if he didn’t have this one.” He turns the phone back to you and you could feel your entire being jump when you see a picture of Mark posing in his swimming trunks and a tattoo, no, your paper plane tattoo on his collarbone. 

“Where is this picture from?” You asked as you once again snatch his phone from his hands to get a better look. 

“One of their backup dancers is my brother. Sometimes they get drunk and swim in the pool and it just so happened that Mark got a new tattoo around the same time that you did.” He smirks as he crosses his arms over his chest, “I think we just found your soulmate.” 

“I still don’t believe it.” You bit your lip. 

“(Y/n), seriously?” He huffed out, “He has all your tattoos and that paper plane tattoo is exactly the same as yours.” He crossed his arms over his chest, “When Haneul gets back, I’m going to convince her to take you to their concert here in Seoul.” 

“I don’t know, Leo oppa. It doesn’t make sense. If they’re from Korea, then why do my tattoos always pop up while I’m sleeping?” You question, still stuck on the belief that Mark wasn’t your soulmate. 

“Think outside the box, (Y/n). Maybe he got them while he was on tour or while he was drunk or having an existential crisis in the middle of the night.” He squinted his eyes at you, “I’m getting you into the concert no matter what.” He gave you a cheeky smile and took his phone from your hands, dialing a number. 

“What are you doing?” You asked when he pressed his phone to his ear and began talking. 

“Hyung, when’s the next concert in Seoul?” His question made your eyes widen and you quickly jumped onto his back to try and grab his phone out of his hands. 

“Kang Leo!” You yell as you tried to pull the phone away from him. 

“I think I found Mark-ssi’s soulmate.” He spoke through the aggression you were putting him under, desperately trying to keep both of you standing and swatting your hands away. “Yeah, same tattoos and everything. Even the paper plane. They’re back next week?” You froze. He glanced over his shoulder and smirked when you did, “Alright, thanks. Three would work.” He hung up the phone and you were still hanging on his back frozen. You slid off of his back and glared at him, 

“What if he’s not my soulmate and I just end up embarrassing myself?” You poke at his chest. He raised his hand and flicked your forehead, causing you to yelp and move away from him. 

“That’s for speaking so disrespectfully to me.” He smiled at you, “And if he’s not, then we’ll find out. If he is and you don’t go, you’ll be throwing away an opportunity.” 

“Why do you know literally everyone?” You groaned as you crouched onto the floor with your hands covering your face. 

“I’m a social butterfly.” He shrugged. “You owe me now!” He cheered. You moved your hands from your face and glared at him just as the sound of beeping came from the keypad to the front door. 

Haneul walked into the apartment and froze in her spot when she saw you crouched on the ground and her soulmate standing across from you with a wide smile on his face. 

“Okay, what happened?” She questioned as she slipped off her heels.

“I think I found (Y/n)’s soulmate and he’s an idol!” Leo announced with his hands in the air. 

“Really?” She looked between you and him. You covered your face with your hands once again and nodded. “What did you do?” She moved over to him when she realised Leo must’ve done something about it.

“My brother is a backup dancer for Got7 and he got us three backstage passes for the concert next week in Seoul.” He unlocked his phone and showed her the picture of Mark’s tattoos. 

“Holy shit, (Y/n)’s gonna date an idol.” Haneul chuckled. You look up at her and pout,

“Eonnie, what if it’s not him?” You whine out at her. 

“Oh come on, it’s worth a try.” She waved her hand at you. “If we don’t go at all, we’ll never know.” She tugged on your arm so that you would stand up. “Now, you have a week to prepare. Put yourself together and let’s get two souls together!” She clapped excitedly. 

Haneul and Leo really spent the whole week just getting you ready. Leo even bought the fan lights because he felt like being at a concert without one would be boring. 

“I’m supporting my brother.” Leo shrugged when he insisted on buying the fan light. 

“The fan light is for the group, not your brother.” You pointed out. 

“Sssh,” He hushed you, “By supporting the group, I’m indirectly supporting my brother.” He said as he pulled the boxes off of the shelf. 

Haneul on the other hand was learning fanchants. 

“If we don’t learn them, it’ll be embarrassing. We’re listening to GOT7 almost everyday and we’ve never thought about learning any of the fanchants for fun.” She pointed out when you walked in on her playing one of their comebacks on the TV. You actually ended up joining her after half an hour of her playing Fly over and over again. 

You found yourself staring at the ceiling the night before the concert. You couldn’t bring yourself to sleep. Whether it was excitement from anticipating the concert or the possibility of meeting your soulmate, it wasn’t letting you sleep.

Mark instead was spending his time in the dorms, completely unaware of the person he was going to meet the next day. Leo’s brother had told everyone about it except for Mark, even their managers and the crew. 

“He’s sulking while playing Fortnite.” Jackson sighed as he closed the bedroom door to Jinyoung’s room. 

“If he knew what was going to happen tomorrow, I don’t think he’d sleep.” Jinyoung replied as he turned away from the keyboard sitting on his desk. Jackson sat himself on the edge of his bed, 

“He asked me a while ago about how I felt when I met my soulmate.” He muttered out, obviously concerned for Mark. 

“He asked me that, too. I don’t really blame him. We met our soulmates years ago. He’s the last of us and he hasn’t even come close to feeling like he’s going to meet his.” He pursed his lips as he turned back to the keyboard, starting to aimlessly play a melody. 

“Do you think she’s the one?” Jackson asked after a moment of listening to Jinyoung play. His question made his friend stop to think. 

“Anything could happen, Jackson. They said she has the tattoos. Let’s just hope it’s her.” He nodded slowly. 

“I hate seeing him sad. It makes me sad.” He pouted. 

“You sound like his boyfriend.” Jinyoung joked as he started playing once again. “Don’t worry too much about it. You might accidentally tell him.” He chuckled. 

“I promise I won’t tell him. I’m just worried, I guess.” Jackson shrugged. 

“It’s okay to be worried. He is our brother after all.” Jinyoung nodded at him, “Now, instead of being here, go give him your company. He might be feeling lonely.”

»»————-　　————-««

“You ready?” Haneul asked as she poked her head into your room. You were looking at the full body mirror and trying on outfits. “Are you having trouble?” She asked when you didn’t answer, your full attention of trying to find the right outfit. You turned to her with a sigh. She pursed her lips before rummaging through your closet, 

“I’ve tried everything. Nothing looks nice.” You groan as you plop yourself onto your bed. 

“You’re just nervous.” She pulled out a simple neon green crop top and white shorts, “Try this. Their whole colour is green anyway.” She handed you the outfit. You sat up and gave her a skeptical look but decided to put it on anyway. To your surprise, it was perfect. 

You left the apartment shortly after Leo arrived with all three of the fanlights in his hand, 

“My brother said he handed the passes to one of the guards.” Leo spoke as the three of you made your way down the apartment building, “We just have to show them our ID when we get there so they can confirm it’s us.” 

“You brought your purse, right?” Haneul questioned you. You nodded and pulled your purse out of your clear bag, making a double check to make sure you had everything you needed. 

“All’s here.” You nodded to the two of them. 

“Do you want to watch the show first or do you want to meet Mark first?” Leo asked as the three of you got into his car. 

“Let’s watch the show first. I don’t want him to feel disappointed while he’s performing.” You mutter out as you lean back in the leather seat. 

“Stop thinking that way, (Y/n).” Haneul turned around from the passenger seat to squint at you, “If we don’t go, we’ll never know. Even if he isn’t your soulmate, it’s still worth a shot.” She scolded you. You let out a sigh and nod, 

“Sorry, it just seems really unlikely to me.” You mumbled, looking out of the window to the buildings passing. 

“Why so?” Leo asked as he glanced at you through the rearview mirror. 

“He’s an idol. He’s like… famous. What if he turns me down even if we are soulmates because I’m just normal?” You let out another sigh, sinking further into the seat. 

“That’s impossible.” She shook her head, “You’re his soulmate. I’m pretty sure he’d do anything for you. Right, Leo?” Haneul lightly nudged Leo’s shoulder. 

“Yeah, totally.” He nodded, “My brother said that the other members’ soulmates aren’t idols. They’re with them even though they’re ‘normal’.” He raised one hand to air quote the word normal. “You’ll be fine, (Y/n).” He gave you a reassuring smile through the rearview mirror. 

You let your head rest against the window for the rest of the ride. Both your roommate and your best friend were still trying their best to reassure you, but your heart was still filled with doubt. Anything could happen. Mark was an idol and you were not. 

“Stop worrying about it and let’s have fun.” Haneul spoke as she guided your shoulders towards the venue. After you guys had arrived, you made the sudden decision to turn back but Haneul and Leo were having none of it. 

“You worry too much, (Y/n).” Leo chuckled as he led you straight to the entrance. You watched the way IGOT7’s were excitedly waiting outside the venue with their banners and their lightsticks. “Give me your IDs.” He spoke when he stopped in front of one of the guards. 

You could feel your stomach starting to fill with anxiety the longer you watched him talk to the guard. He turned around after a minute and handed you your pass, “Don’t lose it.” He chuckled. 

“I’m glad we didn’t come any earlier.” You muttered out as you slipped the lanyard of the pass around your neck, “I think it would’ve given me more opportunity to run away.” You joked. 

Haneul chuckled, “We didn’t need to come earlier because Leo’s brother got us VIP seats.” She glanced over at Leo who nodded. 

“We get to watch the whole show from above in one of the balcony area thingies.” He said as he led you into the venue and up the stairs. 

“Holy shit, we’ll see everything from here!” Haneul excitedly clapped her hands when she saw the view of the entire stage. You watched as the venue started to fill with people. The lights went off and you could feel the excitement of the concert buzz starting to replace your anxiety. You watched as the music started and the group came out onto the stage. 

Mark stepped out onto the stage with a smile on his face from the sound of the crowd chanting. 

“Ahgase, are you ready?” Jackson asked into the microphone, his voice coming out through the sound system and echoing throughout the venue. The crowd screamed louder. 

The moment you saw Mark, you were entranced. The sound of his voice made your heart flutter. The way his body moved made your worries completely disappear. His smile melted your heart. 

“Oh my god,” You whispered out in awe. 

Mark’s eyes were constantly scanning the crowd in an attempt to remember as many of their fans as he could. Halfway through Page, his eyes met yours. The whole world slowed down around him and everything else sounded muffled. His lips parted in awe at the sight of you and you could only do the same. It felt as though a fire was ignited in your soul. 

Mark did the only thing he felt was logical and lifted his arm up to show the tattoo on his inner bicep. You rolled up your sleeve and lifted your own arm. Despite the distance, he could still see the tattoo as clear as day. 

“(Y/n)?” Leo turned to you when you saw your arm up but you didn’t respond to him. He followed your gaze and saw Mark staring directly at you. “Haneul!” He called over to his soulmate who was sitting beside him. When she turned to face him, he pointed at you and she realised that you had already locked eyes with Mark. 

“(Y/n)!” Haneul reached over and waved her hand in front of your face, causing you to snap out of your trance. 

“What?” You asked as you turned to her. 

“Is he your soulmate?” She asked. You turn back to the stage and see Mark stealing glances in your direction as he moved over to the other side of the stage before nodding, 

“I think so.” 

»»————-　　————-««

“Take a deep breath, (Y/n).” Haneul rubbed your back gently, “If you really can’t do it, we can go.” She smiled softly at you. You turned to her and nodded, swallowing a lump in your throat. 

“Okay, we just need to follow this dude backstage.” Leo announced as he turned around from the crew member he was talking to. “You okay?” He questioned you, silently offering one last second to let yourself run away but you nodded. 

“I-I can do this.” You took a deep breath and smiled at him. 

“Okay, come on.” The crew member led you into the venue and through the back. You couldn’t help but rub your hands together anxiously the closer you got backstage. You looked around the venue to try and desperately find something that would calm you down when a hand wrapped around yours. 

You turned to your side to see Haneul holding your hand in hers with a comforting smile on her face. Leo slung his arm around your shoulders, 

“If anything happens, we’re here for you.” He smiled at you. You returned the smile, glad that at least you weren’t doing this alone because you were sure you would back out at the last minute. Which you were ready to do when you reached the curtain that hid the backstage. 

The grip on your hand tightened as you pushed through the curtain to see Leo’s brother waiting behind the curtain. His tired expression immediately lit up at the sight of his younger brother, 

“Leo!” He opened his arms and hugged him. 

“Hyung, you did really well!” Leo congratulated him as he pulled away, “This is Haneul and (Y/n).” He moved aside so that his brother could see you both. 

“I assume (Y/n)-ssi is the soulmate since you’ve mentioned Haneul-ssi a couple times before.” He smiled at you, “I’ll tell you now, Mark couldn’t stop talking about you right after the show finished.” He chuckled as he started walking, the three of you following him through the backstage area. “He kept talking about this girl who had his tattoos and how his entire world stopped moving the moment he saw her.” 

Haneul nudged your shoulder teasingly when she saw your cheeks starting to heat up. 

“(Y/n)’s nervous that he’ll turn her down because she’s not an idol.” She told Leo’s brother. You slapped her arm and she stuck her tongue out at you in response. 

“Really?” He turned around to glance at you. When you nodded shyly he let out a soft chuckle, “There’s no way that’ll happen. He’s sad a lot of the time because he’s the only one who hasn’t found his soulmate. All the other members found theirs years ago.” He stopped walking when he reached the changing room and turned around to face you completely, “No worries about this at all, (Y/n)-ssi. He will most definitely want to be with you.” He reassured you. 

He waited until you nodded and he knocked on the door. Your grip on Haneul’s hand turned into you practically hugging her arm as you felt yourself getting more and more nervous once again. She placed her other hand on top of yours to calm your nerves. 

“God, if you weren’t here, I probably would’ve melted into the ground.” You muttered out to her and she laughs, 

“I know you would, that’s why I’m here.” She teased, “Unfortunately, when the door opens and you have to see Mark, Leo and I are going to stay out here.” She muttered to you just as the door opened to reveal Youngjae. He looked between Leo’s brother and the three of you before nodding, 

“Is it her?” He gestured to you. Leo’s brother nodded. “Okay, good, because Mark hyung is getting sad again.” He chuckled as he moved aside to let you into the room. You glanced behind you to see Haneul, Leo and his brother looking at you with their thumbs up as the door closed. 

“Sad?” You questioned as you turned to Youngjae.

“He’s scared he’ll never see you again.” He let out another soft chuckle. The further you got into the room, the more members you saw. Yugyeom and BamBam were the next two who saw you, their eyes widening as they quickly left the room. “We’ll give you guys your privacy, but we’ll come back in like 20 minutes.” He said after Jinyoung and Jaebeom noticed your presence. 

Once they had left the room, you caught sight of Mark sitting in the corner with his knees to his chest. If the room hadn’t been empty, you wouldn’t have heard his soft sobs. You froze in place, unsure of whether you should comfort him or not. 

He glanced up at you and his bloodshot eyes widened when he saw you. “W-What are you doing here?” He asked as he scrambled to his feet and wiped away his tears with the back of his hand.

“My best friend saw a picture of your paper plane tattoo and his brother’s one of your backup dancers.” You explained softly as you took a step closer to him. 

“Are you…” He trailed off as he took a step closer as well, “My soulmate?” He asked as he hesitantly extended his hand towards you. 

“I think I am.” You whispered out as you took his hand. The electricity that ran through your hand was enough to let you know. Your entire body felt warm and felt as though the initial jolt was starting to ignite you from deep within. It was exactly the same feeling as when you had locked eyes with him for the first time. 

Mark’s grip on your hand tightened and more tears leaked out of his eyes as he smiled, 

“It’s you.” He let out a laugh through his tears, “You’re my soulmate.” He whispered as he leaned his face closer to yours. 

“I’ve been meaning to meet you.” You couldn’t help the smile that was creeping onto your face as he leaned closer and pressed his chapped lips to yours. You could feel the explosion everyone was talking about. Your heart felt like it could burst from pure love just by the feeling of his lips on yours. 

He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you against him, deepening the kiss. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders to tighten your grip around him. 

“That’s enough.” Jackson giggled from the doorway, forcing the two of you apart to turn to him only to see all of them - including Haneul, Leo, his brother and all their crew members - watching the two of you. “We don’t need any messes in the changing rooms.” He wiggled his eyebrows at the two of you. 

“Shut up.” Mark grumbled at him through the smile before turning back to you. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to meet you.” He hummed out as he pressed his forehead against yours.

[evengayerpanic]

Halloween Decor [Spookstober]

Day 7 of 13 Days of Spookstober: Warehouse 13.

It's the first Halloween that there hasn't been an artifact on the loose and Myka is determined to decorate the B&B completely for Trick or Treaters, if only she could get H.G. and Claudia to stop interfering.

_________________

“What if we set it up so that the skeleton lights on fire when the kids come up the sidewalk?” Claudia grinned from ear to ear, turning her notebook towards H.G. to show the older woman the mock prototypes she had roughly sketched out.

The smile on Helena’s face lit up excitedly. “With some pyrotechnics, we could make it a real show!”

“I know where we can find some leftover fireworks!”

“I could tether them to the house wiring, all we’d have to do is flick the light on the porch and it’d go off!”

“We could rig them to the skeleton as well so that it looks like the smoke show is coming from him, it’ll be completely rad and absolutely terrifying!”

“I’ll start on the bluepri-”

An expectant cough cut Helena off from speaking, and had the two glancing behind them and over at Myka, who looked less than amused by their elaborate Halloween decor brainstorming.

“We are not setting the house on fire.” She was firm, her voice authoritative and just slightly mothering as she glared at the two. “No discussion, not happening.”

“But Myka-”

“No!” The brunette woman glared between her girlfriend and surrogate sister. “Do you remember when you two exploded the Christmas Tree?”

Claudia let out a small laugh at the memory, or more specifically, the look on Myka’s face when their small artificial tree shot six feet into the air and combusted, causing everyone around it to have to duck for cover.

Her laugh was quickly cut off by an elbow to the stomach by Helena, who at least had the decency to look somewhat sorry by the event. “We calculated our nitrous wrong, it was only supposed to sparkle, be a real Christmas miracle, right Claudia?”

Catching on to the writer’s words, Claudia nodded quickly in agreement. “We won’t make that mistake again, Mykes, we promise we will be extra careful.”

Myka looked between Helena and Claudia, both of them flashing her pouty lips and clear wishful thinking. “You won’t make that mistake again-”

They both began to smile, looking hopeful.

“Because you are not setting the house on fire.”

“Aw come on Myka!” Claudia groaned.

“Please, darling?” Helena begged.

With a final shake of her head, Myka had made her decision, choosing instead to pass a box of decorations behind her to the two of them, over listening to their pleas for her to reconsider their idea.

“Enough, make yourselves useful and start sorting.” Myka smirked as she turned back for another box.

“All this stuff is lame though, there’s nothing scary!” Claudia huffed under her breath as she pulled out some cartoon-ish ghosts and a playful-looking Frankenstein head that was made for a door.

“I must agree with Claudia dear, isn’t Halloween for spooks and ghouls?” Helena complained as she pulled out a colourful witches hat and shoes.

“Trick or Treating is for little kids, okay, we’re not going to scare the hell out of a bunch of small children with whatever you two had planned... Got it?”

“Aww, no fair.” Came the groan in unison.

_________________

The very next day as Myka hung a few pleasant looking ghosts around the front yard of Leena’s Bed and Breakfast, she let out a gasp as her hand came in contact with a cold red liquid spurting from one of the ghost decorations, specifically from a large wound in it’s head.

Catching her breath, Myka jumped down from the ladder and let out an angry yell. “Claudia Donavan! Helena Grace Wells! Come here, now!”

Laughing, the two girls appeared from behind one of the other trees that Myka had decorated, high-fiving until they saw the angry look on Myka’s face. 

“We are NOT making our house some sort of freak fest, got it? It’s our first Halloween where we aren’t chasing after an artifact, and I would sort of like to see some adorable young kids in cute costumes...” The two had enough shame to look thoroughly chastised, nodding as she yelled. “Do I make myself clear?!”

“It was a really good set-up...” Claudia mumbled taking the bloodied ghost and walking away with it.

The attempts to get some scary decorations into and outside of the Bed and Breakfast didn’t end there though, no matter what the women had agreed to.

An hour later as Myka was setting up cute pumpkin lights along their front walkway, she nearly knocked herself out, getting shocked as the light emitted a tiny electric storm inside the glass bulb. Helena admitted that she may have gone slightly overboard.

Three hours after that, she let out a scream as the pumpkin she was setting out on the front stoop starting spilling out dozens of fake but actually moving robotic spiders. Claudia was the one who came running out of the house, gathering up ‘her precious babies’ before Myka could trample them.

Myka had almost had enough when she came across the Michael Myers doll in the basement of the B & B.

_________________

“Claudia, Helena, that is it, that’s enough!” She let out a shriek, watching the life-size collectible sit in a chair menacingly, eyes not leaving it until she heard the clatter coming down the stairs and fast approaching.

The two troublemakers skidded into the room, joint expressions of worry worn across their lips as they rushed to her side quickly.

“What is it, Darling?”

“What did we do now, Mykes?”

“This...” Myka trembled, pointing a finger at the being in the corner just past their noses. “This is enough. I asked the two of you for a nice happy, cheerful Halloween and you give me this?”

The two stopped speaking immediately, freezing to stare at the stunning replica that leered in the corner.

“Claudia?” Helena asked, her question unspoken but immediately understood by her young protege.

“Wasn’t me... Helena?”

“Heavens no.”

“Uhhh, Myka... That isn’t our work, that’s, that’s something else entirely.” Claudia’s whisper was frantic, worried. If it wasn’t their work, then what?

Myka rolled her eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous, I’m not falling for that... You two have been trying to get me for the past two days.” She crossed her arms over her chest, turning her back to the life-sized Michael Myers. “I’m not falling for it.”

“Uhhh, Myka...” Claudia warned, her eyes widening as the previously thought to be life-sized decoration, shakily got to it’s feet and took a step towards them.

“Myka... Myka...” Helena whispered, her own heart clenching fearfully as it lumbered threateningly closer to them.

“I’m not going to fall for it-” Myka was cut off by the sound of a loud groan, and the unmistakable shuffle of footsteps behind her as the Michael Myers lunged.

It was then that Claudia screamed, her voice uncharacteristically high pitched. “RUN!” 

Claudia and Helena took off out of the basement as fast as they could, the power of fight or flight kicking in and both of them choosing flight. As they sprinted, they both shared possibilities for the lumbering beast Michael Myers that stalked them. 

"Carpenter’s Camera! Puts people inside of his movies?”

“Nicotero’s brush? Makes creatures come to life!”

“What about the dream carousel, spin it once and you receive your greatest dreams, spin it twice and you live with nightmares? Myka, didn’t we bag and tag that last month...” Claudia froze as only silence responded back to her.

“Myka? MYKA!”

Helena stopped running at that moment, grabbing Claudia quickly to stop her from running as well. “We need to go back for her, what if she was caught?”

“What if we get caught?” Claudia argued, though secretly she knew that she wasn’t about to leave her bestfriend behind, no matter how scared she was.

“She’s the love of my life, Claudia...”

“Alright, let’s go.”

The two retraced their steps to the basement, hearts pounding in their chest and ears perked up ready to hear all manner of horrifying sounds.

What sound they didn’t expect, was laughter.

Peering their head down the stairs, Claudia let out an angry yell. “PETE!” She screeched, practically flying down the stairs to attack her male bestfriend the moment that she saw him pull the Michael Myers mask off.

“Myka!” Helena yelped, flying down the stairs as well to gather her lover in her arms, stopping only once she realized that the brunette was also grinning.

“What’s going on?” Claudia voiced angrily.

“We got you!” It was Helena’s turn to let out a screech of anger as her girlfriend proudly proclaimed her victory.

Helena stepped back from Myka like she had been slapped, her cheeks growing bright red. “We thought you were hurt, that you had been killed!”

Claudia also looked red and upset, her heart still pounding in her chest from the adrenaline. “What happened to not scaring anyone for Halloween!”

“I never said that.” Myka explained, wrapping an arm around the still trembling Helena, the smile on her face infuriating both Inventor’s incessantly. “I said I didn’t want to scare the little kids... Scaring two big overgrown kids is a bit more fun.”

Claudia pouted, smacking Pete in the arm once she realized that the two of them had plotted against her. “That’s not fair, you both are mean!” Still she couldn’t help the small smile growing on her, relief filling her as she realized that they all were safe.

Myka mirrored her smile, shrugging her shoulders.

“Next time you’ll learn not to mess with me.”

[fangirlovestuff]

Cycle - Steve Rogers x reader ch.4

Previously:  ch.1 ch.2 ch.3

Summary: Steve and you get closer, but it’s in order not to get too close. you both believe you know what you want, but... do you?

Word count: ~2,600

Warnings: SMUT, explicit language. 

a/n- hey lovely people! another weekend, another Cycle chapter😌 i’m so glad i managed to get this out today:) as always, italics are for thoughts. awesome divider is by @whimsicalrogers​. Enjoy! and well, thank me for the gif later;)

The morning after you went out, you got to work with your spirits lifted. Having gotten to know some more of your colleagues, you entered into the lab with a spring in your step, greeting everyone good morning.

Kate came up to you, asking how as last night. She was invited, but couldn't come, so she wanted to hear from you.

"It was great," you told her sincerely, "I wish you could've joined us, but I actually ended up having a really nice conversation with Steve," you smiled, expecting it to be the end of it.

Kate frowned. "Steve?" she asked, confused.

"You know," you looked at her incredulously, "Steve Rogers, Captain America, pretty tough guy to miss," you gestured with your hands to symbol a tall, wide frame. "He was really nice," you concluded.

"Oh, that Steve," Kate laughed, "sorry, I'm just not used to anyone calling him by his first name and not, you know, Cap," she giggled a tad awkwardly. "You know there are a lot of rumors going around him though, right?"

"I mean, I would expect there to be, since he's a superhero."

"They say he has a secret girlfriend he's keeping from the world. Or boyfriend, opinions are divided on that one," she laughed.

"Well, I'm pretty sure he doesn't," you chuckled, remembering last night's conversation.

"It’s just office gossip anyway, and we should probably get to work," Kate said and you nodded in agreement, starting to work on your current project.

"And you didn't even ask for her number?" Bucky asked. "You're even more of a lost cause than I thought."

"What?" Steve asked defensively, "It never came up," he shrugged. He made another move at Bucky, who dodged him expertly and caught his wrist, flipping him onto the training room mattress.

"Steve, let me ask you something, and please be honest with me. I'm your best friend, you can tell me anything. Do you even like women?"

"Yes!" Steve said, not particularly amused at Bucky's antics. He got up and got into position again.

"Then why, for the love of god, are you so adamant to never ever sleep with one?"

"That's not-" Steve sighed. "Look, I don't think she was actually interested, okay? She was giving me advice on how to get other girls, I mean, why would she—"

"Oh my god, Steve! She just told you how she'd like to be treated and you think she's not interested?"

"Well, when you put it that way…" Steve grumbled.

"Tell you what, there's only one way to find out. Ask her out, worst thing she could say is no," Bucky suggested.

"Whatever," Steve said, grabbing his jacket and leaving the training room, leaving a smirking Bucky in his wake.

You were just in your office close up for the day when there was a knock at the door.

"Come in," you said, not knowing who it could be, since you told the others to go ahead without you.

In enters one Steve Rogers, looking slightly disheveled, and yet just as handsome as ever. You shook that thought right out of your head. "Hi Steve," you greeted, "what can I help you with?"

"I was just coming by to ask if you might be hungry," Steve smiled timidly.

"After a whole day of lab work, I'd say the answer to that is a definite yes," you smiled back at him.

"Great, well, I just wondered if you'd like to grab dinner… with me," he chuckled. "I know a good spot down the street if you want."

"I'd love to!" you exclaimed. "Let's go," you said, grabbing your jacket from the chair and following him out into the chilly New York air.

"So, you've come to collect those flirting lessons I offered yesterday?" you chuckled as you were walking side by side.

"Something like that," Steve smiled.

You got to the restaurant and ordered. "So, humor me here," you said, "but how does the great Captain America not know how to flirt?"

He chuckled. "Well, for starters, because he's a righteous symbol of justice and liberty, flirting is more Bucky's thing," he admitted with a smile, "and I'm just Steve, not Captain America," he added.

"Wait, so it wasn't you who saved the world from these aliens a few years ago? Shame, you look just like him," you laughed and so did he. "But I get what you mean," you said, more serious this time, "I guess the entire world seeing you as a… how did you put it? Righteous symbol of justice and liberty?" you chuckled. "That can probably be a little intimidating."

Steve hummed in agreement. "Sometimes it is," he admitted. "Truth is, it makes you wonder how can the world buy this image so easily when I don't see myself that way at all. Not even close," Steve chuckled.

You felt a warmth blossoming in you at his open, honest demeanor. "Well, that doesn't disprove the fact that you're a hero, Steve," you said.

"I know it doesn't but… okay, you know when I grew up I was small and sickly, right?"

"It’s public knowledge," you agreed.

"I still feel like that guy, the guy who lived in Bucky's shadow, literally, and couldn't get what he wanted," Steve said with a far-off look.

"Steve," you said, reaching across the table and covering his hand with yours. His look returned here, locking eyes with you and words evaded you at his clear blue eyes meeting yours. You quickly regained your senses, "You don't need to live in anyone's shadow anymore, and for what it's worth you can have anything you want. I'm sure a baby would hand you his candy willingly," you said, and he chuckled.

"Hey, did I just Steve Rogers you?" you smirked.

"Oh no, we can't let that happen. Quick, tell me something about yourself before the sky falls down on our heads!" Steve exclaimed and you laughed.

"Okay, okay, let me think…" you furrowed your brows exaggeratedly. "In the future, I would really like to get married." You looked around suspiciously, "phew, I think we're in the clear," you joked. Shit, why would you say that? Congrats, you just managed to scare him away.

"Why?" Steve asked, his gaze resting intently on you.

"Because… sharing your life with another person is something I want to experience," you explained. "Being there for someone who loves me, heart and soul, no matter what, is very appealing," you chuckled. "And well, I guess there's still some little girl in me that wants a fairytale romance. Someone to sweep her off her feet and be her one true love. After all I've been through, it’s bizarre I still believe that, but I do," you concluded with a smile.

"Glad to know I'm not the only one who still believes that," Steve said with a reassuring look. "But… why do you think it's bizarre to believe that?"

"Besides the obvious reason that fairytales aren't real?" you asked, and he just smiled, nodding at you to continue. "Well, I guess every man I've been with has disproven that theory. People who I thought would actually be there for me, who wouldn’t only want me, but also love me, ended up walking away. And at a certain point, you just have to go with the flow. I did one-night-stands for a long while. But lately I decided I can't keep ignoring what I want any longer. So, I have to keep believing, even though it doesn't seem achievable," you smiled sadly.

"For all it's worth, I think you'll succeed," Steve smiled back at you, squeezing your hand.

"You think I'll succeed with anyone in particular or…?" you trailed off, and he blushed.

"Whatever you choose to," he answered.

"Well, I think the universe is definitely repaired since I shared all of that and our food hasn't even arrived yet," you chuckled, changing the subject.

You kept the chatter light until your food came and ate in relative silence, but it wasn't an unwelcome one. Every once in a while your eyes would meet and you'd simply smile at each other, gladly eating the delicious food. At the end of the meal Steve insisted on paying, and after a lot of convincing you managed to get him to split the check.  You left the restaurant as you entered it, side by side.

"My apartment is actually a couple of blocks from here, so if it's in your way you can come up for a coffee maybe?" Steve suggested.

"Yeah, sure thing," you agreed, surprised at how easy it was to be around him.

You went up to his apartment, chattering about work and life the whole way. Steve matched his pace to yours, so you were casually strolling through the streets of New York with Captain America by your side.

"Manhattan's probably a shock after living in Brooklyn, isn't it?" you inquired.

"You get used to it," Steve shrugged, unlocking his apartment door.

You let your eyes wander around his apartment, taking in the orderly state of it, the warm, simple environment that seemed to surround Steve wherever he goes, and his house reflected that. There was a canvas right in the middle of the living room, propped up against an easel. There were paints strewn around on the coffee table, but for now all the canvas held was a pencil sketch of the New York skyline. You let out a small chuckle about how… Steve this all was. This is when you truly understood what he meant before – how different Steve was from Captain America, because this is when you started to truly understand Steve.

"I'm so sorry about the mess," Steve said, starting to pick up the paintbrushes and paints.

"It's okay," you smiled, tracing the pencil lines with your fingers. "It's beautiful," you looked at Steve.

"Hopefully it'll look even better when it's colored," Steve said. "Here, I wanna use this color for that building and…" Steve started describing his plans for the painting, but all you could see were his lips moving, his eyes shining with excitement.

"That's great," you said, your heartbeat racing.

"Here, I can show you how to do it," Steve suggested.

"Sure," you agreed.

Once Steve showed you how to hold the brush, you started painting a bit of the background like he told you and he let out a chuckle. "You're doing it wrong," he said, and before you had the chance to be irritated his hand was covering yours, his tall frame against your back as he started showing you the right brush movements, the right amount of pressure to apply on the canvas.

"There you go, see? It's easy," Steve said, and you could hear the smile in his voice. You turned around to see it too, and your breath hitched. He was smiling, but you hadn’t realized how close you got. His face was just within reach, and if you just tilt your head upwards a little…

Steve made the first move, bending down to capture your lips with his, his tongue seeking permission into your mouth, which you granted readily. Your tongues explored each other's mouths and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, while he wrapped his around your waist, pulling you close.

Suddenly he broke away from you and you chased his mouth with yours but he put a hand on your shoulder. "I… we work together," he said, "and I don't wanna be another shitty dude," he added, smiling a little.

"Well, you raise good points. But, we don't actually work together that closely, and it's not shitty if we're both on the same page. Besides, if we don't do this right now we're gonna regret not doing it and that will just create more tension," you reasoned.

"You're probably right," Steve panted a little.

"Thank you, I watch a lot of rom-coms. Now, are we on the same page? We get it out of our system and that's it?" you knew it sounded a little harsh, but that's what needed to be done so no one got hurt.

"Deal," he said, and in an instance his lips were back on yours, more feverishly this time, his hands traveling down your waist, your ass, your hips, which he grabbed onto and lifted you up, and fuck, super-strength came very much in handy.

He led your way to the bedroom, one am supporting you up and one sneaking into your shirt to unhook your bra while your hands tangled in his hair, pulling a little, just enough to hear Steve groan into your mouth.

He pretty much tossed you onto the bed and you got rid of your shirt and bra while he threw away his shirt as well, revealing his toned chest and abdomen. You stared, practically drooling before he climbed on top of you and you started kissing his neck, his jaw, nipping gently on his sweet spot.

His hands found your breasts, teasing your nipples and you arched your chest against him at the touch. You started working his belt, and he looked at you one more time. When he saw the wanting look in your eyes it was all the confirmation he needed to take off your pants and your underwear, and kick his away too. He started trailing kisses on your collarbone, down the valley of your breasts and your stomach, every nerve in your body lighting up at his touch.

He finally reached between your thighs and looked up at you before licking a long stripe between your wet folds. You threw your head beck and moaned, because who knew America's golden boy can eat pussy like a fucking god.

He continued licking and sucking swirling his tongue around your clit and around your entrance, lapping at your folds, driving you crazy with every flick on his tongue, and it didn't take long before you fell apart at his touch, waves of pleasure coursing through your body as Steve continued his assault until you came down from your high.

He made his way back up your body and you pushed your hips up against his, feeling his hard length against you. "Steve," you looked at him in a silent plea.

"You sure you-"

"Yes, yes, yes please, I'm so fucking sure," you cut him off and he smirked a little before climbing off you, and you were about to whine when you saw him reach for a condom, and well, he's not America's golden boy for nothing I guess.

He put it on and climbed back on top of you, capturing your mouth in a breathtaking kiss, so much so that you didn't notice him lining up with your entrance until he pushed his tip into you, and started driving deeper and deeper inside your sensitive walls. The stretch was a lot at first, and you gasped, but then it turned into a moan when Steve started really moving, driving into you in slow, deep thrusts that caused you to claw at his back.

"Feel so good around me," Steve groaned, and you could only moan in response, clenching around him. He pushed your leg up a little, and the new angle had him hitting that sweet spot inside you with every thrust, and in no time the coil in your stomach snapped again, and you milked him through his orgasm too.

You were both panting as you laid down next to one another. You were silent for a moment before Steve spoke. "Think it worked? We got it out of our systems?"

"I mean," you smirked as you straddled his hips, "we can't be too thorough…"

Bucky is slowly but surely slipping away from me and becoming quite OOC, but it’s cool we love him anyways. please tell me what you thought and thank you so much for reading! <3

Taglist:  @horny-nd-bored​ @shannon124 @perfectlyharolds​ @wintersoldierslut​ @iceebabies​  @sleepingpapermouse @steverogerswasalwaysworthy @holtzkinnon @angelicl-y @stydia-4-ever @thatoneperson5000 @fangirlfree​ @kaitcordx25 @bequeening​ @steve-barry-damon-logan​ @itscrazycherryblossomcollection​ @hollandxmarvel​ @stargazingfangirl18 @readsreblogsfics @onetwo3000 @beritmetal @harrystylesholland@jazbot2000

Cycle Taglist: @dee-vn @alex747

if you wanna join / be removed from these taglists, comment/message me! much love <3

[2seokfan]

Scarlet & Hazel | Ch. 3

pairings: hoseok x reader x yoongi

genre: fluff, very light angst, smut (future)

word count: 6k

chapters: ch.1, ch.2, ch.3. ch.4

summary: 

Just cause you’re living paycheck to paycheck in a tiny apartment even after graduating college doesn’t mean you’re not happy. So what if your best friend is working her dream job making close to six figures every year?  So what if she’s in a loving, committed relationship with her perfect boyfriend that you’re 99% sure is going to propose to her sometime next year? It doesn’t matter that your idea of a perfect relationship is a $9.99 bottle of wine on Friday nights while you binge watch Netflix specials.

Ok so maybe you’re a teensy bit miserable. Maybe you have no idea what you’re doing with your life. Maybe all you need to do is accidentally cross paths with two hybrids who will drastically change that.

Meet “Scarlet” and “Hazel”, two of the most gorgeous hybrid men you have ever laid eyes on. With their help, you learn that life is an adventure, a roller-coaster with ups and downs, and you were too preoccupied with yourself to climb out of your own predicament. And hey, you’re not much of a romantic, but with these two, you just might change your mind.

a/n: Hello, Jun here! Whew this took a while to write but thank you for your patience!! (poor Y/N still doesn’t know their real names but maybe she’ll find out soon?) Any feedback is appreciated <3 

tag list: @wilhelminalucinda​ @ghostkat23​ @ayoo-bangtan​ @sadgurllayha

2 months later.

August is relentless. You’re sweaty all the time and you have no choice but the crank up the a/c every single day. This heat wave is incredibly brutal because all you want to do is stay at home eating ice cream in your underwear but instead you’re stuck working overtime to pay for what you assume will be a record-high electricity bill. Fuck you global warming. 

It’s currently Tuesday. You’re on lunch break at work, chowing down on a falafel wrap and scrolling through your phone, when a text pops up from Karli.

Karli: Don’t forget!

You: ???

Karli: This friday?

You scratch your head. Wtf?

You: What’s on friday?

Karli: Umm the date? Remember?

No you didn’t. Your dumbass actually forgot about a whole date. You can’t believe yourself. Karli finally set you up with that accountant guy from her job. What’s his name again? Brad? Brandon?

You: oh yeah! my bad haha

Karli: You forgot his name didn’t you?

You: …maybe

Karli: Lol it’s Bryce sweetie

Karli: He’s really sweet! Just give it a shot

You: of course i will

You: i’ll turn up my maximum charm

Karli: Dats my girlllll

Karli: Ugh gtg it’s my boss

Karli: Bye!

You: bye babe

You set your phone down, trying to envision this upcoming Friday. Karli mentioned she gave Bryce your phone number, and he’ll text you sometime this week about your date, so at least you don’t have to make any moves first. She did show you his picture though, being the wingman that she is by stalking all his social media just for you. You’ve gotta admit he is cute, the profile picture showed him sporting a casual smile, with blonde hair and blue eyes. The classic boy-next-door look.

“And he’s most likely not a serial killer!” You remember her declaring a few weeks ago, after scrolling through all his tweets. And when you say all his tweets you mean EVERY Single tweet from when he created his account in high school till now. Your best friend does not fuck around. 

“Thanks I appreciate that. Glad he’ll ‘most likely’ not kill me.” You rolled your eyes and grinned at her.

While you munch away the rest of your lunch, you think about how you just aren’t acting like yourself lately. In any other circumstance, you would’ve found yourself more excited for the date. Hell, in any other circumstance you would’ve at LEAst remembered his name, or thought about what to wear by now, or even stalked his social media along with Karli. There’s just a teensy problem though. See, in the past few months you happen to have met two boys who completely changed your standards in men. And you may have maybe developed the tiniest crush on both of them, at the same time. Like how?? You didn’t think you were physically capable of doing that?

You sigh, staring at the rest of your falafel wrap, and force yourself to accept reality. As much as you adore them, you know that your little crush will be completely unreciprocated. This you found out through your group chat, now named ‘Hazel’s Nuts’ (courtesy of Scarlet). It’s not that you confessed to them or anything, they just happened to let slip to you one day that they’re a mated pair. And hybrids mate for life, so they take that shit very seriously. Although this news stung a little, it didn’t cause you to be envious in any way. At the end of the day, crush or not, you’re just glad you have two more people in your life you can confidently call your close friends.

For the past two months you’ve actively kept up with them. Sometimes you’ll send memes back and forth all night, sometimes you’ll group call each other after work. Every once in a while, when they’re not busy doing whatever it is they’re doing, they facetime you. These are your favorite moments because you get to see them in all their attractive glory. Just because they don’t like you that way doesn’t mean a girl can’t deny herself some eye candy. 

You guys never run out of things to talk about. Each day you check the group chat and it’ll be popping. Your topics range from the movie that just came out, restaurants they discovered, to even discussing new criminal cases (you got Hazel into watching true crime Youtube videos and now he’s entirely hooked). Sometimes you just sit back and watch the two boys bicker back and forth. It’s hysterical how they decide to argue through text since you’re sure both of them are probably in the same room together, but you appreciate them keeping you in the loop. 

At this point they’ve already virtually met Karli. She’s been in the background of one or two of your facetimes. You’re glad she approves of them instantly and you wonder if it has a little something to do with their, especially Scarlet’s, boyish charms. She does keep you grounded though, never failing to mention how it’s suspicious that you don’t know their real names yet.

“I don’t think they mean any harm and they seem genuinely nice,” she had reassured, “But you gotta admit not telling you their names is a little sketch.”

You just shrugged. “They have their reasons.”

Internally you do believe she has a point. Even though you don’t want to force information out of the boys, you’re a naturally curious person. Your mind has already compiled a list of all the unusual facts you’ve discovered about them. 

A couple of things have become clear to you over the span of the last few months. The most important fact is that although they share tons of content with you, you still have no idea what they do for a living. You’re also 90% sure they don’t have an owner since there’s never anyone else around them. Another, more interesting fact is that you suspect they’re actually pretty wealthy. Every time you facetime, they’re in some sort of lavish looking hotel penthouse, with fancy furniture and artwork hanging in the background. They also dress designer, occasionally flashing their Balenciaga hats, or little Gucci necklaces, or other fancy logos your peasant-ass is unfamiliar with. You actually googled one of Hazel’s t-shirts from your most recent facetime, having no idea what the FG logo stood for. You remember your eyes bulging out of your head after discovering his plain white shirt with two black letters cost more than $200. TWO HUNDred dollars?!!! Do you know how much food and gas you could buy with $200? Why in the fuck would he spend that much on a shirt??

If only you knew how much their watches cost.

Friday rolls around faster than you can blink and before you know it, you’re rushing home from work to get ready. Bryce texted you for the first time on Wednesday to see if you wanted sushi (hell yeah you did) and you were fortunate enough to notify your boss so you could be let out early. You’ve been such a work horse the last few months that they had no choice but to let you leave in advance. 

So far Bryce seems nice enough but you can’t get a proper gauge of his character through text. Oh well, guess you’ll find out tonight.

The sushi place you’re meeting at is on the fancier side, and includes a bar. Knowing yourself, if there’s a bar, there’s no car, which means you won’t be driving. The last thing you want is to leave your car parked somewhere sketchy overnight cause you accidentally got too tipsy to drive. You like to think you have some semblance of control but it’s always better to be safe than sorry.

You were let out at 4, which means you have only 2 hours to get ready. As soon as you get home you sprint to your closet at lightning speed. You rummage through your drawers, hoping to find something, ANYthing, that’s appropriate for this occasion. For one quick second, your eyes dart to your forbidden drawer, aka the ho drawer. It contains the remains of your slutty party dresses and tops from college. Being the hoarder that you are, you never like throwing away things, even if you have no need for them anymore. Wait, what the hell am I thinking? You snap your eyes back to the rest of your closet. You’re going for sushi, not to dance at some club. Besides, you have no intention of sleeping with anyone tonight.

After an hour of deciding on a suitable outfit you finally start on your makeup. Your work makeup has dried up, and now feels gross and cakey on your face, so you remove it all and start anew. At least you had the decency to shower this morning so your hair isn’t too gross.

The place is around a 10 minute Uber ride away but you took your sweet ass time getting ready so now you’re in a frenzy. When your phone buzzes, signaling your driver is here, you swipe on some lipstick last minute, grab some chunky heels, and practically fly out the door. 

You stare out the window of your ride, wondering why you’re lowkey wishing you could spend Friday night at home watching tv instead, or even just spending the evening facetiming two hot hybrids. This all feels a little too rushed. But no, you shake your head and attempt to hype yourself up. C’mon Y/N this is the first real date you’ve been on in ages. At least TRy and be a little more motivated. 

The car pulls up and you thank the driver, stepping out into the warm night air. August is still hot, even in the evenings, and you’re glad you didn’t bring a cardigan. Bryce has already texted you, letting you know he was inside, sitting at your reserved spot. You take a deep breath. Ok, time to put on your game face. You strut in, trying your very best to push the faces of two very good-looking friends out of your mind.

You spot Bryce in a corner, head buried in his phone, his wavy blonde hair not easy to miss. You slide in the seat across from him, prompting him to quickly look up and flash you an easygoing smile.

“Hello there!”

“Hi!” You chuckle nervously. “I hope I’m not too late.”

“Not all all!” He slides his phone back in his pocket, smile still on his face. “You’re just in time.”

A waiter comes by and you both take your orders. You make sure to order a drink because you have a feeling you’ll need the liquid courage to strike up more conversation. Maybe some sake will help ease you.

The first couple minutes are kinda awkward, not gonna lie. Bryce tries to get you to talk about work and you do answer him, but honestly work is the last thing you want to discuss right now. You try to shift the conversation to his job, but that only ends up being worse as he quickly launches into the ins and outs of life as an accountant. Maybe your two hybrids friends have spoiled you because you barely remember the last time you had to fill empty space with small talk.

When the food comes you quietly sigh a breath of relief, hoping the sushi in front of you will help you both get settled and give you time to think of more interesting topics to talk about.

“So,” you wrack your brain, “let’s get to know each other more! Like, what’s your favorite ice cream flavor?” That’s got to be a safe enough question.

“Hm, I’m actually more of a yogurt kinda guy, ice cream’s not really my thing.”

You freeze, California roll halfway to your mouth. Ok, ok, cool, cool. So he doesn’t like ice cream, that’s fine. You sweat a little. Hurry Y/N think of something else to ask.

“Yeah, I guess that’s not everybody’s thing.” You grimace. “Then what about, i don’t know, cookies? What’s your favorite kinda cookie?”

“Actually I prefer crackers, you know, like the saltine ones? Cookies can be too sweet sometimes.” He’s devouring his dragon roll, not noticing the panic in your eyes. He’s caught you off guard twice today.

This isn’t going well and you’re genuinely surprised because you know Karli has done her research, certain that you two would get along. Guess life really likes to throw you some curveballs. 

Who the fuck prefers crackers over cookies anyway?? Ok. Code red! Change the fucking subject before the silence becomes unbearable. Your dessert-related ice breakers had never failed you before but there’s always a first for everything, you guess.

You take a generous swig of sake. “Right, crackers are... good.” You’re mumbling at this point. “Ok, um, what about hobbies? Got any?” Please throw me a fucking bone here! Your mind is reeling but externally you try to act calm and composed, dabbing at the corner or you mouth delicately with a napkin.

“Oh yeah!” His face lights up. Oh thank god. “Do you like football? Me and my buddies at the office sorta formed this team, and we play against other departments. It’s really fun! You should come by and watch sometime!”

“Uh, sure!” Football. Huh. The last time you were anywhere near a football was when you met someone from your college team at a bar. Well he wasn’t holding a football per se, but that counts right? You only remember how much of a douche he was, trying to hit on one of the girls from your group after getting entirely too wasted.

“Awesome! I’ll hit you up when the next game is set!” It’s almost impressive how he doesn’t notice all the tension emitting from your body. In fact, you have a feeling he’s actually enjoying himself and your company.

The rest of the dinner goes by in the same manner. With him happily answering all your questions and you slowly discovering just how little you both have in common.

He is a gentleman though, that you can’t deny. When all the food has been cleared away he immediately swoops in to pay the bill, ignoring your insistence at paying for your half at least. He really isn’t a bad person, just the opposite. Besides your difference in interests, he is a sweet guy overall, and you do find him to be physically attractive. There’s just no spark, no silver lining that keeps you wanting more. When you both get out of your seats he offers to drive you back to your place but you politely decline. You say it’s because you don’t want to trouble him but in reality you need space for yourself to think.

As soon as you arrive home you take off your shoes and plop yourself down on the couch, running your hands through your hair. You check your phone, a few notifications from ‘Hazel’s Nuts’ popping up.

Scarlet: Do you think she’s done with her date yet??

Hazel: Hey Y/N how was it?

You had told them about this date beforehand and they were excited to root for you, which did bruise your ego a bit since it reaffirmed your unreturned attraction to them, but also prompted you to go through with it. This last notification was from 45 minutes ago but you couldn’t reply since you were still at dinner.

You: hi I just got back!

You don’t expect them to respond right away but to your surprise:

Scarlet: And???

You: it was meh

Hazel: That bad huh?

You: no nothing like that!

You: he’s really cute and all, it’s just we basically have nothing in common

Scarlet: Aww poor Y/N (sad emojis)

Hazel: Hey happens to the best of us

Hazel: Actually I wouldn’t know cause I’ve only been with fox boy

You: thanks anyway, i appreciate it Hazel

Maybe it’s cause you’re a little tipsy, or maybe you just feel so open and vulnerable around them tonight, but the next text you send is especially honest.

You: ughhh idk guys i’m just so lonely!!! why can’t things just work out for me for once! Like the first real date I go on in years and this happens :(

They don’t respond for a long time. So long in fact you start to get worried that you exposed too much about yourself.

15 minutes pass by but to you it feels like hours. You’ve already removed all your makeup and changed into your pajama shirt. You relocate to your bed, checking your phone again, thinking of a way to play off your last text as a joke when:

Hazel: If you’re so lonely maybe you could adopt?

You grin to yourself, glad that they’re not being judgmental. Their concern for you resets your mood.

You: ha ha you know my apartment doesn’t allow pets

You: but honestly if i could i would, cause i’d definitely get a little kitty

Hazel: I’m flattered

You: thanks but i meant a real cat

Hazel: Either way i’m flattered

Scarlet: HEY what about foxes??

You: pretty sure owning a pet fox is illegal here Scar

Scarlet: (angry emojis)

Hazel: You heard what the lady said

You: anyways i’m going to bed

You: thanks for making me feel better guys <3

Hazel: Anytime

Scarlet: But hypothetically if foxes weren’t illegal you’d get a pet fox right??

You: of course i would sweetie

Scarlet: (happy emojis)

Scarlet: Yay!!! Goodnight Y/N!

Hazel: Night Y/N

You: night boys

You wake up next morning on your own time, checking your phone to see that you slept in till 11am. Wow, you haven’t slept that well in a while. Maybe it’s the stress from the previous weeks of non stop working, or the pressure to maintain your composure last night, but either way you knocked out like a rock. You sit up, lean back, and stretch your arms as far as they can go.

Today you’re meeting Karli at her place up north. She couldn’t ask you about last night since she was occupied, her seven year anniversary with her boyfriend Sunny coinciding with your date. But she assured you a couple days ago over facetime that today was going to be a girl’s day, no boyfriend included.

“Hey!” Sunny had popped out of nowhere in the video when he heard the news, a look of mock shock on his face. “I live here too! So what, you're just gonna kick me out of the house and leave me on the streets to starve?”

“My god stop being dramatic!” Karli had shoved him playfully off the screen. “I need girl time with Y/N and it’s not girl time if you’re in the house.”

“I can be one of the girls! Right Y/N?” He sounded betrayed.

“I know you can but I’m not the one who makes the rules.” You pointed out.

He sighed. “You got me there.”

Since you’re just spending time at Karli’s and getting takeout, you felt zero need to dress up. You washed your face, threw on an oversized t-shirt some old hookup left at your place (hey it was cute) and some tights, and tied your hair out of your face. This entire process took less than 30 minutes and next thing you know you’re ready to head out.

You sent Karli a quick text, letting her know you’re on the way. You grab a bottle of prosecco, your purse, and keys, saying a quick goodbye to your roommate Ayah on your way out. She gives you a small wave, reminding you that she, yet again, has to leave today for a whole week. You backtrack to give her a quick goodbye hug, telling her to drive safe, before you take off.

Karli’s place isn’t as far as the beach coffeehouse you frequent, but it’s still located in the wealthier side of town. The drive lasts a good 20 minutes but it feels a lot faster since you spend the whole time singing along to your favorite songs.

You pull up to Karli’s apartment complex, driving yourself to the guest parking space. Her apartment building is pretty tall, with a distant, but gorgeous view of the beach. 

Karli squeals when she opens the door, immediately giving you a big hug. When you break apart you hold up the bottle of prosecco in your hand, waving it in front of her face.

“I know you have the ingredients here so let’s make some spritz!”

“Yay!”

Aperol spritz is your favorite at-home drink to make with Karli. She had gone on a short trip to Italy in the summer between her two years at grad school and tried the drink there, completely falling in love. She googled the recipe, made it for you one day, you had said “Oh FUck that’s good!”, and the rest is history.

She grabs the bottle and quickly relocates it to her kitchen. Her energy levels are sky high today and you wonder what’s got her so elated. She’s skipping everywhere she goes, there’s a permanent smile etched on her face, and she’s humming non stop as she pulls you away from the front entrance.

Sunny emerges from the hallway, two hands in the air in surrender.

“I’m heading out, I swear!”

Sunny is a big teddy bear of a man, with tattoos splayed across his arms and a well-kept beard. There’s a term you learned online called ‘lumbersexual’ and that’s exactly the word to describe Sunny. He almost reminds you of Jason Momoa, the actor who played Aquaman. Those who just meet him think he looks intimidating at first but once you get past his height and size, you see just how much of a softie he is. He’s also extremely intelligent, working somewhere in the computer industry developing software.

Karli bounds over to him and gives him a big snuggly hug and tiptoes all the way up to give a quick kiss to his lips.

“Have fun babe! Love you!”

“Love you too! Also bye Y/N!”

“Bye Sunny have fun!” You smile as he treads out the door.

You both head to the kitchen and start making your drinks.

“Aren’t you extra chipper today!” You mention as you pour a splash of club soda into your glass.

“Am I?” She doesn’t look at you, wearing a mysterious grin, stirring her mixture with a straw.

After you both finish making your drinks, you head to her living room and settle onto her plush sofa.

Karli yawns, almost too dramatically, covering her left hand over her mouth. You quirk your eyebrow at her, wondering why she’s acting so weird until you spot it. There’s something large, something shiny, on her left ring finger.

“Oh my god….” Your entire mouth hangs open. “Oh my GOD!!! Is THAT…?”

“Yep!”

“Did HE -?”

“Yep!!”

“AND YOU - ?

“YEP I DID!!”

“YOU’RE ENGAGED?!?!?!”

“I KNOW!!!!”

What happens after is a shriek rivaling that of a pterodactyl taking flight after spotting prey, except the sound is just the two of you screaming and jumping up and down in Karli’s living room.

You bring her into a tight hug, so emotional that you’re about to tear up. And you’re not one to cry that easily.

“I’m so happy for you!” You pull apart and wipe a stray tear from your cheek.

“Thank you! I’m so happy too!” Her smile is also a little watery. “Like I knew he was gonna do it soon since we’ve been together so long but I’m still shocked you know?”

“I know!” 

“And I’m sorry. Today was supposed to be me asking about your date last night.” She dabs at her eyes. “Bryce really likes you too. He even texted me thanking me for introducing you!!”

“Oh shit...” You take this chance to drink your Aperol spritz. “I’m gonna be completely honest with you. It’s true he’s cute but there was no spark.” You give her an apologetic grin, knowing she really wanted this to work out for you. “Like don’t get me wrong he’s super nice and stuff but I just couldn’t find anything we have in common. I can’t believe he’s still into me?!” 

“Aw I’m sorry babe.” She pouts. “I really did think you would be a good match.”

“It’s ok. Anyways,” you wave her off, bringing up the more important subject at hand. “I’d much rather talk about your engagement! Like, hello?? You’re getting married, girl!!

Another squeal. You really hope her neighbors don’t complain.

“I know!! I literally don’t know what to think!” She smiles wistfully, like she’s on cloud nine, then brings her attention back to you. “Also you’re the maid of honor and you can’t back out of that.”

“I would never!” You gasp dramatically, one hand clutching your chest.

“But don’t worry!” She sets her drink down. “The wedding’s not happening till next year at least. We don’t have to start planning till way later.”

The rest of the day you spend chatting to Karli, prompting her to spill every single detail about the proposal. Even though you have no need to help her plan a wedding just yet, you can’t hold back from offering some ideas that spring to mind.

“I got it!!” You shout.

“You got what?”

“Hear me out,” you may or may not be a little tipsy at this point. “Goth wedding!” You say with jazz hands. Then you reach down to take another sip of your drink.

“Hmm…” She pretends to think about the idea, then giggles. “And that’s enough prosecco for you.” Plucking the glass out of your hand, she transfers it to her kitchen sink.

A couple more hours roll by. You both decide to watch a cheesy Netflix horror movie to sober up, paired with the Mexican takeout you ordered. By the time the credits roll, the sun has long since set, along with your alcohol buzz. You check the time on your phone, deciding it’s best to head home since poor Sunny has been respectfully out and about all day, giving you your girl time.

You give Karli one last big hug, murmuring into her hair how happy you are for her situation. She walks you to the apartment elevator, where you proceed to blow her a swift kiss right before the doors close in your face.

Reality sets in the moment you’re alone. Your head swims with thoughts as you drive back. Most of them are happy about your best friend’s engagement but you can’t discount the little ugly bubble of jealousy that wells down deep in your gut, reminding you of your own current situation. It’s not until you reach home that you realize you didn’t even play music in the car.

Ayah has long since gone on her business trip by the time you arrive at your apartment. The whole place looks dark and unwelcome, only highlighting the emptiness you feel inside. You trudge to your room and slump onto your bed. You try to scroll through social media as a way to distract yourself but you’re met, instead, by all the pictures and posts of happy people, showing off their achievements or bragging about their seemingly perfect lives.

You immediately lock your phone and throw it onto the blanket, the stress and anxiety from the last few months building to a boiling point in your mind. Your biggest concern is you still haven’t figured out your lease situation, and you only have two more months to move out or find someone new. Ayah has tried her best to help you but she’s bombarded by business trips so no luck so far. You let out a small groan and bury your head in the pillow, deciding to sleep it off and worry about your problems tomorrow, even though it’s not even that late.

Right as you’re about to drift off into dreamland, your phone rings. You fumble around the covers until it’s in your hands and check that you have a facetime call from your two favorite boys.

Immediately your body jerks awake and you sit up, swiping the answer button.

“Hey guys!”

“Hi Y/N!!” Scarlet’s heart-shaped smile is taking up most of the screen but you can see a sliver of white and grey hair behind him.

Hazel elbows him out of the way. “Sorry were you sleeping?” He tilts his head, ears twitching. “Wait, it’s only 10 pm where you’re at. You never sleep this early.”

“No I wasn’t... I mean, yeah I was trying to sleep but…”

You sigh. It’s their faces. Just seeing them through a screen, their wide, innocent eyes blinking up at you, makes you want to spill everything.

You nibble on your bottom lip for a moment. “I was just kinda having an existential crisis so I decided to sleep it off. No biggie.”

Scarlet’s eyebrows furrow in concern. After only two months, he can already tell when something is off with your tone of voice.

“Y/N what’s wrong?” He looks up for a bit, pausing to think. “Was it the date last night?”

“The date?” Oh yeah the date. Yet another thing that didn’t go well. You totally forgot about that can of worms. “Not really… or actually kinda?”

You try to reorganize your jumbled mess of a brain and put your thoughts into words.

“So you know how I said I was going to Karli’s today?”

“Mhm,” they nod at you to continue.

“Well turns out she got engaged last night.”

“That’s awesome! I’m so happy for her!” Scarlet bounces a little, then quickly returns to a more serious tone. “But that doesn’t really answer my question.”

“Yeah I’m happy for her too.” And you genuinely are.

You pause for another moment, teetering on the edge of playing your emotions off like it’s no big deal or exposing all of your concerns yet again. Your need for an outlet to vent to wins in the end. For the first time you find yourself unable to confide in Karli because you want her to be happy and focus on the engagement rather than to be preoccupied with you. Before you know it, the words flow from your mouth like running water.

“It’s just that her announcement really brought me back to earth, and I started thinking a little too much about my own life.” You purse your lips. “I don’t know… I feel pretty selfish right now because she’s doing so well and I just can’t help comparing my life to hers. I’m so proud of her but it’s like everything in her life is coming together and I just want that for me also.” You throw your hands up in frustration, almost knocking the phone off from where it leans on your pillow. “I mean we’re the same age for god's sake! Why can’t I get my shit together??”

“Well you should be proud of yourself though,” Hazel cuts in. “Cause we are.” He gestures to Scarlet and himself.

“Yeah!” Scarlet chimes. “I mean you’ve got a full time job and a place to stay. I know you don’t feel like it’s the most ideal situation right now but please don’t discredit yourself.”

“Thanks guys.” You calm down a bit, but then you remember the whole issue with your apartment. Scratching the back of your neck, a habit you’ve picked up whenever you’re nervous, you say in a much smaller voice, “although my ‘place to stay’ might not last much longer.”

“What do you mean?” Both boys’ eyebrows are raised in confusion.

You realize you never mentioned your living situation to them, the topic always pushed to the back of your mind whenever they initiated conversation.

“Yeah.” A dry chuckle leaves your lips. “My lease ends soon and Ayah wants to move to a place of her own. And I have two months to figure out where to live or find another roommate.” You let out a frustrated huff. “She’s been so helpful but still no luck I guess.” You shrug in defeat.

You feel like a balloon that’s lost all its air, brain exhausted from running through all the problems in your life.

“Actually that’s pretty convenient for- ” Scarlet starts, but is elbowed again in the ribs by Hazel. “Ow!”

“Not yet!” The cat hisses quietly to him.

“Huh?” Now you’re confused. What in the world are they talking about?

Hazel turns back to you. “I’m really sorry about everything Y/N. If there’s anything we can do to help please let us know.” 

“Thanks buddy.” You offer him a small smile, choosing to ignore what just happened since they clearly don’t want to reveal anything just yet. 

Hazel then shifts to a more nervous stance, ears slightly flattening and both hands grabbing his floofy grey tail for comfort. It’s the cutest goddamn thing you’ve ever seen in your life.

“So Y/N, um, there’s a reason we called you tonight.”

You’re glad for a change in subject, a much needed distraction away from your downward spiraling thoughts.

“Oh right! Yeah. What’s up guys?”

Scarlet steps in front of him again, blocking most of the screen.

“We have a surprise for you!” He’s so close to the camera that you can only see half of his unblemished face but from the way his eyes crinkle, you can tell he’s giddy with anticipation.

“A surprise- ?”

“Yeah!!”

Hazel nudges himself into view again. “Quit hogging the whole screen fox! I swear to god next time we’re using the tv. I can’t see anything! Anyways,” he turns to you and smooths his shirt, expression back to stoic, “are you free next weekend?”

“I should be. Why?” You’re still a little lost on what the surprise is.

“Cause we’re coming back to town!” Scarlet blurts out.

“You are?!” Suddenly all your negativity melts away, replaced by excitement. Hard to believe just five simple words can shift your mood a complete 180°.

“But wait, there’s more!” You snort at how much Scarlet sounded like an infomercial just now.

“We’d like to invite you to dinner next Saturday night. If that’s ok with you?” Hazel isn’t as physically expressive as Scarlet but the hopeful shine in his eyes gives himself away.

You melt at his expression, heart rate speeding up. “Of course that’s ok! I’d love to!”

“Great!” He flashes one of his rare gummy smiles. “Saturday night. 7 pm. We’ll text you the details.”

“Yep!” Scarlet pipes in. “There’s something important we gotta ask- !” He lets out a small gasp, tail bristling, and clamps a hand over his mouth as if he just said something he shouldn’t have.

“What’s important?” You’ve gotta admit, your curiosity is at its peak right now, and it doesn’t help that they’re acting a little weird today.

Hazel rubs his temples in exasperation, groaning at Scarlet. “What part of ‘not yet’ did you not understand?” He then addresses you. “Sorry Y/N I promise we’ll tell you when we see you in person.” 

“Ok.” Cool. That’s fine. You’re a little nervous about what they have to say and it’ll be torture to wait but you’re a big girl and you can handle not knowing for a week. “I can’t wait to see you guys!!” you added.

“Me too!” Scarlet’s personality is so bubbly and contagious that you can’t help but smile back at him.

“Same.” Hazel lets out a small yawn. “Well we’re in a different time zone than you and it’s really late here so I gotta hit the hay.”

“Mk, go get your beauty sleep.” You give them a little wave. “And thanks for everything. I mean it.”

“No problem Y/N.” Scarlet also gives off a yawn, stretching his tired limbs. “Goodnight.”

“Night.”

After ending the facetime call, you lie on your back, staring at the ceiling. Your mind is active once again, but this time it’s not clouded with self-deprecating thoughts. Instead, you spend the remainder of the evening theorizing about the ‘important’ things the boys have to tell you. Maybe you’ll finally find out their real names. Or maybe they’ll reveal something else about themselves, like why they’re constantly travelling, or what they actually do for a living. Either way you can’t wait for next Saturday to come around.

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