#i couldn’t get to sleep until way past 3am for no apparent reason

[fingertipsmp3]

It’s not even noon and today is already bad

[the-infamous-coat-of-baron-zemo]

Missed Opportunities | Helmut Zemo x Reader | Chapter 3

Welcome to Part 3! You've made it this far? I'm impressed. Thank you for sticking around. This is quite the long chapter so, I hope you enjoy the juicy action all around.

And this one was quite the doozy to write. It's 3AM now? Hah, I've spent the entire day writing two chapters. But definitely don't expect more at quite this frequency. But I appreciate you all none the less.

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Tag Requests: @lostghostgirl94 @neoarchipelago @fillechatoyante @fanfics-ig

Did I miss someone? For future tag requests: Please send me a direct message if possible, it's easy to lose people in the mix and I don't want to miss anyone!

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For previous chapters go here: Part 1 | Part 2

Word Count: 5.358

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

It had been precisely three hours, forty-two minutes since two Avengers and a criminal mastermind had left the safe house you were staying in.

You were currently staring up at the ceiling with mild boredom waiting for the next round of texts to come in. An alert notification rang through the near empty residence, the noise echoed off the walls of the living room intensifying the reverberation of sound.

Rolling over, you flopped onto you stomach from your position on the couch, stretching your arm out to grab the phone off the coffee table.

Carefully, you read the incoming message. 'No recent signs of Karli, but following up on a handprint Bucky found a couple miles from our initial start position. Zemo has a theory it might lead to a section of tunnel that veers off towards the harbor. Will update again in another hour. - S'

Great.

So they'll easily be gone at least another couple hours, leaving you to your own devices. That's dangerous. There's no telling what kind of trouble you could get into without something to do. Your mind was always processing, constantly formulating new plans and calculating risk probabilities. It's why you were so fidgety and animated. You didn't inherently have ADHD, but your brain was so active the symptoms manifested as such. You had a genius level intelligence, you just chose to down-play it most of the time. You craved activities to keep your mind from going into overdrive; it's why you spend most of your mornings running. To drain your body of excess energy and let your brain rest.

You groaned in irritation, tossing the phone back onto the coffee table. Sam could have at least given you a pin point location so you could do some research on the area where the handprint was found.

Maybe you could read for a bit.

You got up and headed to your room at the back of the apartment. Zemo gave you the last room at the end of the hallway, it also happened to be the only room that had a half bath attached to it. Which in retrospect, was quite thoughtful of him.

As you reached your room, a chilly draft fell across your body, causing goosebumps to raise on your fair skin. You noticed you left a window open in the room and moved to close it. Often times, late at night you sat at the window sill and read to pass the time when you couldn't sleep. Sometimes, you'd crack the window open and simply listen to the sounds of the outside; they were just as soothing. There was no denying it was quite lovely where you were staying. Helmut Zemo had impeccable taste.

You grabbed your book and crossed the room, rubbing your arm to help circulate some heat back into your body, but before you got to the door, a patch of blue caught your eye. Zemo's hoodie. It had been left draped haphazardly over the back of one of the chairs in your room. A constant reminder you needed to give it back to the Baron, but you weren't ready to just yet, and funnily enough, he hadn't asked for it.

Shifting from foot to foot, you debated what to do. It was comfortable. Wearing it one last time couldn't hurt, right? There wasn't anyone here to cajole you about it anyways and you could just take it off before the guys got back. Perfectly reasonable. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you snagged the garment off the chair and pulled it on as you walked back out to the main living room, book in hand.

As you rounded the corner and made your way through the kitchen back to the couch, you heard a loud metallic bang against the entry-way door accompanied with the tell tale signs of door knobs turning. Caught off guard by the sudden intrusion, you had leapt off the ground, clutching the book to your chest.

You stared at the door in fear knowing it was way too soon for anyone to have returned yet. And they wouldn't have caused the disruption in the attempts to break in. Pushing down your apprehension, your senses started to return to you, and you realized you need to get to your phone. Now.

Your eyes moved across the apartment and landed on the coffee table a short distance away from you. Bingo. You took a step forward towards the table when the front doors suddenly swung open and a whirl of red, white and blue flew past your face. The projectile, nearly hitting you, caused you to stumble, knocking you backwards onto the floor. You landed clumsily, but thankfully caught yourself before your head smacked against the ground.

You didn't need to look up to know exactly what object flew at your head. The sound alone was unmistakable.

"Apologies for the erratic entrance, I only meant to use it to help open the door - I hadn't planned on Lemar here unlocking the them so easily. When the doors fell open, it kind of just flew right out of my hand."

Annoyance had now replaced your fear.

John Walker.

You had many opinions of the man based off what Sam and Bucky had told you, but you hadn't had the pleasure of actually meeting him. Until now.

This did not help sway your opinion of him in the very least. If anything, it only solidified that the government had made a rash decision. You don't just had over the shield to anyone.

You glared up at the intruders from your position on the floor. This was completely unexpected. How did he even manage to locate this safe house? Something nagged at the back of your mind that Captain Walker might have had help from people with a questionable background. You shoved the thought aside for the time being.

Lemar had gone around to the back of the couch and pulled the shield out of the wall embedded in between the two stained windows. Walker, who stood next to you, was offering his hand to help you up.

You didn't even make an effort to consider his gesture and got up off the floor without his assistance, dusting yourself off in the process.

Walker appeared undeterred by your dismissal of him and instead put on a winning smile and rotated his hand in the attempts of a handshake.

"I think we got off on the wrong foot. John Walker. Captain America," he proudly stated.

"I know who you are Captain Walker, as well as your friend here," you briskly answered, crossing your arms in front of you.

You could see the smile start to drop off his face and his eyes turn a bit darker.

"And I know who you are as well, you're well documented along with the Avengers, but I was trying to be polite," Walker grounded out with forced effort.

You didn't want to start an argument with the newly anointed Captain America, but there was something off about him that just irritated you.

"Polite?" you sarcastically question. "How is barging into someone's residence, polite? Please, do explain," you shifted your weight onto one side, giving him an expectant look.

"I don't have to explain myself to you. In case you've forgotten, I'm Captain America," he took a step towards you, his body language highly suggesting an intimidation tactic.

You held your tongue and took a step back to place more distance between yourself and Walker. You spared a glance at his partner to gauge his reaction, but his expression was guarded, although he was watching with rapt attention.

"What do you want, Walker?" you bit out. You attempted to keep some of the contempt out of your voice, but he had quickly turned your mood sour this afternoon.

"Where's Zemo?" Walker cut straight to the chase this time.

"Not here, obviously," you held your arms out, gesturing around.

"I want to know where Zemo is. He's coming with us," the captain took another step towards you, this time with a more forceful intention.

You furrowed your brow and took another step back. His posturing was starting to make you slightly nervous.

"Even if I did know where he was, I'm not saying either way. Zemo has been surprisingly helpful to us, and we need him to locate Karli along with the rest of the Flag-Smashers, including the missing vials of serum. And he's more likely to continue working with us, than provide you with any information at all. That I can say with absolute certainty," your words sounded confident, but inside you were trembling.

That was apparently the wrong thing to say to Captain America.

His entire demeanor changed. Once where there was some warmth and light-heartedness, there was only a cold emptiness left in his gaze. He reached back to grab the shield from Lemar, and then without any warning shoved you back against the wall to your left.

You heard the distinct sound of your right shoulder pop as is slammed into the wall along with the rest of your body. The rapid movement from Walker and impact from the shield knocked the wind right out of you. The pressure from the amount of force he was exerting pinned you to the wall and caused the shield to be painfully pressed into your side, separating you from Walker. You could feel the rim of the shield digging slightly into your neck, but not enough to cause any real damage.

"John!" you heard Hoskins shout with alarm from behind Walker.

You swallowed thickly; very real fear had settled into your bones. You were capable of defending yourself, but hadn't actually needed to put those skills into any use. Bucky and Sam had taught you some moves and hold to get out of, but it never crossed any of your minds once you'd have to fight Captain America. You tried to shift your head to the side to see how far away your phone was. What possible options you had. Maybe you could appeal to his partner and deescalate the situation before things got too ugly.

"I'm only going to ask this one last time. Where is Zemo?" Walker spit out, putting force against the shield, which in turn, caused you to grimace in pain.

"Hoskins, you really going to allow Captain America to torture an innocent citizen trying to help in a cause we're all aligned in?" you gasped out, trying to swallow as much air as possible through the pain wracking your body.

You refused to let it show. Holding back as much of the discomfort you were in. You didn't want to give Walker the satisfaction.

"John, ease up. She's not a terrorist, and frankly, I agree with her," Hoskins voiced, his footsteps bringing him closer to Walker with the hopes of gaining his attention no doubt.

The pressure from the shield against your form was lifted slightly, though the shield was still closer to your body than you'd like to admit. You closed your eyes to focus on regaining some stability and figure out your next course of action to get yourself out of this mess.

"Stay out of this Lemar," John replied, but his menacing stature had lessened minutely.

You opened your eyes to stare at Walker. He had removed the shield between the two of you and placed it on his back; however he stepped into your personal space instead and placed a hand against your collarbone, essentially rendering you immobile again.

Well, at least now you could breathe.

Walker peered down at you with distain, "You're really not going to give him up are you?"

You clenched your jaw and lifted your chin defiantly at him.

"No," you answered.

The wheels were turning inside Walker's head. You could literally see the fire burning in his eyes, realizing he wasn't going to get an answer out of you. Not willingly.

He dipped his head and released his hold on you, pointing a finger right at your face, "This isn't over. Not by a long shot."

You saw Lemar walk up and pat Walker's shoulder, "Alright, let's get out of here."

Walker straightened up and stiffly walked away, leaving Hoskins trailing behind. His ego had taken a blow today.

Hoskins gave an apologetic shrug, "He's under a lot of stress."

Before Lemar could fully clear your line of sight, you quietly spoke up, "He doesn't deserve that shield."

Hoskins didn't have a response to that.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

In wake of the aftermath, you had tried to clean up as best possible. You assessed your injuries were non life-threatening, though your right shoulder was most definitely dislocated. The arm was kept close against your body hoping to not jostle it too much. You felt spikes of pain as you cleaned the area where Walker had thrown the shield into the wall, but ignored it so you could get the place back in shape before Sam, Bucky and Zemo returned.

Sam had messaged not too long ago, they were roughly 20 minutes out from the apartment.

Your ribs were throbbing from where the shield had been buried into your side, but you didn't think they had been broken, only bruised. You were going to have to ask one of them pop your shoulder back into place.

You were dreading the conversation, but were determined to remain as calm as possible to help alleviate the immediate reaction they were going to have once you revealed what happened.

The events of the day had finally caught up with you and coupled with the cleaning efforts, your body was signaling it's exhaustion. You were in the kitchen, and honestly didn't think you could make the short trip to one of the sofas; so you carefully sat on one of the chairs in the kitchen and waited patiently.

Sure enough, 20 minutes later, the doors to the apartment opened and the guys swiftly came in to greet you.

"Did you even leave the kitchen?" James inquired, coasting around the kitchen to grab a drink.

You smiled tightly and responded in kind, "For a short while, yes. Did you guys find anything worth while?" You quickly wanted to change the subject but knowing you were only delaying the inevitable.

"Yeah, we think we've discovered a possible building Karli is using to hideout in. We had planned on eating something quickly and then leave again to check it out tonight," Sam explained.

As Sam was talking, Bucky had accidently bumped into you, causing you to wince and pull your arm tighter to you. Luckily, he didn't see your face, but Sam did.

"Hey, you okay?" Sam questioned, voice filling with concern.

You blew out a breath bracing yourself for what you were about to say.

"What happened to my wall?" Zemo piped up, giving you a curious glance, he had moved to run his hand along the diagonal cut, inches deep, in the space between the ceiling to floor windows.

Bucky left his glass and walked over to get a better look, as did Sam. Both of them would know precisely what caused a mark like that to become etched into a wall.

Sam and Bucky snapped their heads back to you as soon as they saw the indention, but it was Zemo who spoke first.

"John Walker was here," he stated, shrugging off his coat and hanging it over the back of the couch he was nearby.

"It was an, eventful afternoon here," you tried to put some overly cheerful, comedic tones into your voice, but failed pretty miserably.

"What happened?" Sam immediately asked.

The trio had made their way back to the kitchen to get answers from you.

Zemo came to stand nearby, eyes roaming your body, searching. With his expertise, there was no question that he would quickly figure out you were injured; so you tried to tell your story as concisely as possible.

"Um, so - Walker and Lemar showed up. He asked for Zemo. I told him he wasn't here aaaaand they left. The end," you hurriedly spoke, wanting to get this over with and not draw any more attention to yourself.

But you could see in Helmut's eyes, he knew there was more to your story. His carefully crafted mask was starting to crack as you saw his gaze drift down to you cradling your arm underneath the island away from Bucky and Sam's eyeline.

"You're hurt," Zemo said. His face showed open concern as he walked the remaining distance to you.

With more tenderness than you thought possible coming from him, he slowly and carefully moved your right arm away from your body. He kept his eyes trained on you for any discomfort or signs of pain.

Once your arm had left your lap though, you reached over with your left hand to grip one of his wrists to prevent him from moving your arm any further.

"Don't, please," you pleaded, gritting your teeth and swallowing down the pain threatening to erupt from you. You were panting now, and more clear than ever something had happened to you while they were gone.

Helmut released your arm without hesitation, but did not leave your side. You saw him exchange tense looks between James and Sam. Normally, Bucky would have been focused on keeping Zemo away from you, but with the current circumstances, he was no longer a priority.

"What actually happened?" Bucky softly called out, he and Sam had gotten closer to take a better look at you. Sam brought a chair out to sit next to you and give you a once over, while you explained.

The expressions on their faces were grim as they anxiously awaited your reply.

"It wasn't - it's not quite as bad as it seems," you started, stuttering out the words as Sam brought his hands up to check your head for any injuries first.

"He just barged right in and was insistent on finding Zemo. He was acting so arrogant and pompous, I just refused to give him any information on his whereabouts," you continued on. "He didn't like the fact I wasn't willing to cooperate with "Captain America" and he got a little.....rough with me."

Sam paused his surveying to meet your gaze. You could see the guilt beginning to creep into his eyes. He turned his head to look up at Bucky, who was angrily flexing his vibranium arm in displeasure. Probably only affirming his notion that Sam should have never given up the shield in the first place.

"What did he do?" Bucky's tone brook no argument. He wanted to know the truth.

You scrunched your face in unpleasantness when Sam checked your lower neck and collarbone, he had found the place on your body where the shield and his hand had met you.

"Is this from - ?" Sam couldn't finish his sentence and he looked away in anger. You could tell he just wanted to get up and throw something, and that was commonly uncharacteristic for him.

Zemo had shifted his position to take a peek at what Sam was doing while he checked you out. You saw how his eyes had darkened with quiet rage taking stock of everything. There was an outline of a thin scrap mark against the underside of your neck and jaw, but it was a clear demarcation that would only be caused from the shield itself.

You nodded sadly and focused on answering Bucky's question as you gave Sam the okay to keep going.

"Walker, didn't get what he wanted, so he did the only other thing he knows how to do," you cleared your throat and rubbed your hand against your forehead.

"Use brute force," Zemo darkly said.

"He used the shield to push me up against the wall over there," you pointed over as you continued re-telling what happened. "I was knocked into the wall pretty hard, but Walker lost all focus and nearly suffocated me from the force of the shield against my body. I think he -" you yelped like a wounded animal, not able to finish your story when Sam touched your shoulder.

Bucky's eyes had widen and became deeply concerned over your pained scream.

Your muscled were clenched tight as you tried to ride out the pain, face starting to turn red.

Zemo had placed a light hand on your back, leaning down to comfort you and remind you to breath.

You fumbled with your good arm as you tried taking in deep breaths and motioned to Sam what was wrong with your arm.

Even with your poor mime animation of pretending to have your arm pulled from your socket, James picked up on what you were getting at. He tapped Sam to switch places with him. Your eyes were watering at this point and you blinked back the tears wanting to fall.

"Alright doll, on the count of three, I'm going to raise your arm and put pressure on your shoulder, okay?" Bucky solemnly said.

Sam gave you a smile of assurance while Zemo ended up taking your good hand, letting you know you could use him to brace yourself. He and James shared a silent conversation before nodding at one another. If Sam had a problem with Zemo providing you comfort, he didn't show it. You figured he was letting some of his dormant humanity rise to surface in this moment.

You shook slightly trying to prepare yourself for the next round of pain once your shoulder was fixed, but James didn't give you any time.

"Three," he commanded, snapping your shoulder back into its socket before you had a chance to even reaction.

You let out another cry of pain, holding onto Zemo's hand tightly, but somehow, the fear of the oncoming pain dissipated as you let go of his hand and rubbed your shoulder with minimal soreness.

You cleared your throat and looked at everyone after a few moments of rest. Surprised at how efficiently James had handled your shoulder, but then again, he was the perfect person to do the job.

You scrunched up your nose at James, "What happened to one and two?"

He huffed out a laugh, "It worked didn't it?"

"Thank you. All of you," you gave a lazy smile through the tiredness that filled you up. "I think I'll be okay now - that was the worst of it. Promise. Walker didn't do any further harm to me. I managed to convince Lemar to get Walker to back down," you glossed over the section where Walker threatened you, but you could bring that up later.

None of them were satisfied with your response, but you're guessing they let it slide given the circumstances.

Zemo reached into the freezer to grab an ice pack. He handed it to you to place on your shoulder helping with your recovery. You accepted it from him extremely grateful. You mused your opinion of him was constantly evolving the more time you actually spent with him.

Sam had asked if you were sure there weren't any other areas you wanted to have checked over for injuries.

You assured him, you were alright, just tired and very sore.

Bucky had swiftly gotten up from his chair and made it known he wanted to go after Walker this evening. You knew he wasn't going to let this incident go any time soon. Sam had also been in agreement after fully understanding what transpired, but Zemo was eerily silent.

"You guys should follow your original plan. Don't let Walker distract you. I'm alive and I am going to be okay. Go follow your lead on Karli," you interjected, trying to be the reasonable one. There was no need for them to go off halfcocked while they were still very upset. You were too, if you were being honest with yourself, but your focus was on your friends first and foremost.

"Well, we're not leaving you here alone. I can stay behind and let Zemo and Sam check things out," James said.

"Actually, it makes the most sense if I stay behind," Zemo chimed in.

"Why is that?" Sam countered warily.

"The particular location you are going to, I have....a history there. It would be wise for me to not be seen in that part of town as to not raise any alarm bells," he reasoned with them.

"And why should we trust you with her?" Bucky asked, suspicion creeping into his voice.

"Because I have no motive to do any harm to her nor shall I allow any further injury come to her. On this James, I give you my word," Helmut replied, the seriousness of his tone was not lost on anyone in the room.

"Okay," Sam relented, moving about the kitchen to pack some food for their evening night out.

"Just like that, huh?" James said with disbelief.

"Yeah, just like that," Sam parroted back.

Bucky wasn't happy about the situation, but there was an urgency to find Karli, so he caved.

James leaned over on the counter to make sure you were 100% okay being left along with Zemo, reminding you at any time you can call and they'd rush back instantly for whatever reason.

You stood up slowly, balancing the ice pack on your shoulder and shuffled over a few steps towards him, "Thank you. Now, go."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

You waved to to your friends a second round of goodbyes for the day. You sagged against the counter, temporarily forgetting about Zemo for the moment. You really needed to lie down.

As if he read your thoughts, you suddenly felt his presence as an arm wrapped around your waist, resting firmly against your hip.

"Here, let me help you get someplace more comfortable than this," Zemo asserted, taking his free hand and dropping the ice pack from your shoulder onto the counter. He then grabbed your left hand, raising your arm and wrapped it around his neck to help support you. So now most of your weight is on your left side, allowing your right to have most of the pressure released from your injuries.

You were so close to him you could smell his expensive cologne and aftershave. It was intoxicating and caused your head to swim a little. You stumbled slightly, but Zemo kept you steady as you both made your way to your room.

In your exhausted state, you managed to sneak in a few glances to Zemo, who was concentrating on the task at hand, not wanting to cause any jarring movements. He deserved more credit than you had been giving him; he truly did seem to care in his own warped way.

Once you had gotten to your room, he guided you to the bed to lie down. Not once had you complained. A true testament of just how tired you were. You couldn't even muster a snarky reply at his disheveled state of being, from practically dragging you down the hallway.

You snuggled into the hoodie you were wearing and tried to lie in a position that wouldn't cause too much discomfort for your shoulder and ribs.

Zemo had stepped into the closet and when he returned he came back with a couple extra pillows. He propped them against your injured side to prevent you from rolling over during the night.

If nothing else, Zemo was incredibly thorough when he focused on something. And right now, that focus was you. It was unnerving, but also thrilling at the same time. Maybe you did have a head injury, because all you could do was smirk at how utterly adorable he was tending to you. It made you curious as to whether this was what Zemo was like before. For the first time, you really wanted to know more about him.

You saw how he was confident in everything he does, and this situation was no different apparently. He had been muttering to himself as he adjusted bedding and made sure there was nothing in the room that you could trip over if you had to get up. He was taking in all the possibilities, like you did.

He had been actively avoiding looking at you though since Bucky and Sam left. You weren't entirely sure why, as he's had zero problems watching you over the past several days. You have a feeling it's because you're one of a few people who have seen beneath the surface of Helmut Zemo, and he's reacting the only way he knows how to at this moment.

Distraction.

You were too sleepy to ponder this any further and turned your head to the side to see what Zemo was fiddling with now.

He had finished up the last of his tasks and looked around the room satisfied with his work. Only then did he turn to look at you.

If it had been anyone else, you would swear that Zemo almost seemed nervous. He was, at many times in your experience, hard to read; so all of these new expressions are a different side for you to see.

Zemo tentatively sat on the edge of the bed next to you.

"Do you need anything?" he genuinely inquired.

You shook your head, indicating you didn't.

All of a sudden he laughed. It ended nearly as quickly as it had began. You raised an eyebrow him in reply, but he simply tugged on the sleeve of his hoodie you were still wearing.

Too tired to be embarrassed about it, you simply mumbled, "Shut up. I still plan on giving it back, although, given it's track record, you should quite possibly get rid of it. After what happened today, I think it might be bad luck."

You saw Zemo dip his head and chuckle at your reply. He look much more carefree when he laughed. You'd have to add him to your daily list. Make Zemo laugh.

His expression sobered rather quickly though and became pensive after that, staring out the window briefly before resting his gaze back on you.

"You keep it. It looks better on you."

Not knowing what to say, caught up in the storm in his eyes, you give a small smile. You can feel your cheeks turning red under the intensity of his stare.

Zemo stood up, getting ready to leave when you stopped him by latching onto his wrist.

"Wait," you murmured.

The swift action caused him to furrow his brow in confusion.

You weren't sure exactly what you wanted from him, only that you didn't want him to go.

"Stay."

You could tell you startled him with your request. Your eyes grew larger realizing the potential double meaning.

"Just until I fall asleep?" you clarified, a yawn escaped as you covered your mouth.

Zemo visibly relaxed and had you relinquish your hold on his arm so he could pull up a chair to your bed. He turned his head around the room in search of something. He went to the nightstand and picked up your book.

Amusement flitted across the features of his face as he read the cover. Zemo sat down on the chair and propped his feet up on the side of the bed.

You shut your eyes and tried to block out the soreness covering your body. Tomorrow would be worse. The next day always is. You had begun to doze off, when ever so quietly, you heard Zemo's voice fill the room.

He was reading to you. Lulling you into a peaceful sleep and letting you know he was still present. Wanting you to know, in his own way, he was upholding his promise to Bucky and Sam. That you were safe with him. That you could trust him just as you had, when you asked him to stay in the first place.

With those final thoughts, you drifted off, listening to the subdued sound of his voice.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

[nomsugayoongi]

Off My Face.

Pairing: Jungkook X OC female (nameless)

Tags: fluff, slight angst, eventual smutty smut, softJK.

Disclaimer: So, I literally created a Tumblr to post this mess. There are already a bunch more parts written which I can post if wanted. Haven't written anything in ages so be nice and forgive my overwhelming JK softness. :p

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Who's that?" She asked, leaning against the wall next to Namjoon. He raised an eyebrow as he scanned the room, clearly confused. "Who?" He replied. "The purple haired dude that just walked in. Over there by the door. Black jacket." She muttered, squinting through the darkness. Namjoon chuckled and looked at her like she was crazy. "What do you mean? It's Jungkook." He said.

She gasped and squinted even harder. "Eh??" She squeaked. "That's not Jungkook. Look at the hair. It's...long, and there's way more tattoos there than Jungkook has and..." Her rebuttal died mid sentence as Mystery Purple Hair moved out of the shadows of the doorway and she saw him clearly. It was indeed Jungkook but he looked...different. She'd only been gone a couple of months but apparently that was all it took for Jungkook to transform himself. He looked...older. He appeared to have shed his "puppy" look and what was stood across the room from her was nothing but man. Hot man. Jungkook scanned the room, stopping to talk briefly to Jin before he caught sight of her. His face broke into its token bunny smile and he said something to Jin who nodded before he made his way across the room. "You're back!" He grinned. She gulped quickly, paying absolutely no attention to the nose dive her stomach was currently doing into her shoes as he approached her. "I'm back" she confirmed, returning his smile. He strode straight over, scooping her up into a bear hug. "How was England? Did you miss us? Are you happy to be back?" Jungkook asked, setting her back on the floor and pulling back. She nodded. "Massively. England was...England. Cold, wet, grey, joyless. But nevermind that, what happened to you? Someone leave you alone with a Sharpie?" She teased, pulling his right arm out by then wrist and turning it over to indicate his new ink. He chuckled. "I like them" he shrugged. She glanced up, catching his big brown eyes then gasped again. A silver bar now pierced his eyebrow. "And you've poked holes in your face. Was nobody watching the maknae while I was away?" She teased. Jungkook rolled his eyes and grinned. "Welcome home" he said, pulling her into another hug. She spent the evening catching up with her boys. Laughing riotously, eating great food, regluing herself to Suga's side and wondering why she ever felt the need to go back to England. If anything, the trip back to her country of origin had done nothing more than cement the fact that there was nothing there for her anymore. Her life was here. Her family was here. Her family was the people all gathered in this house. She felt utterly content and beyond happy to be back. However, there was a niggling little something that was putting a crimp on her perfect homecoming. She could not, for the life of her, pry her mind off Jungkook. And as the evening drew to a close and one by one, the guys started retreating to their rooms, the noise died down and her thoughts got louder. What had happened to him? What had happened to her that she couldn't focus on anything but him. He was just Jungkook. She'd known him years. He was one of her family. He meant the same to her as the others. But her mind was screaming and his name was the only thing it was saying. It was approaching 3am. Suga had passed out hours ago and was fast asleep sprawled along one side.of the corner sofa next to her. The room was in total darkness except for the flicker of light from the TV screen. Namjoon was half asleep on her other side. Hobi, Jin, and Jimin had gone to bed already. V was sat at a table opposite tucking into some Ramen with Jungkook. Both engrossed in their conversation and their noodles, she allowed herself to study him in the flickering light. His hair was considerably longer than when she last saw him and now coloured a deep purple, Contrasting strongly against his flawless skin and framing his face perfectly, then resting just above his shoulders. Her urge to run her fingers though it was making her hands restless and she fidgeted uncomfortably on the sofa. She swallowed hard, her eyes skipping over his features. Pretty brown eyes, newly pierced eyebrow which really suited him, cute nose, sensual, slightly pouty lips that broke into the most disarming smile, strong jawline, slender neck. She tried to swallow past her increasingly dry mouth as she became painfully aware of her heartbeat, thudding more and more erratically the longer she looked at him. She reprimanded herself silently, arguing in

her mind that this was ridiculous. He was Jungkook. It didn't matter that her stomach rolled uncomfortably every time he looked at her. It didn't matter that she wanted to trace every line of the dark ink that snaked his arm with her fingertips. It didn't matter that all she could think about was running her nose slowly along his jawline, inhaling the scent of his skin as she clenched his soft, long hair in her fingers. It didn't matter that there was nothing she wanted more than to disappear in him. Her nose brushing his, close enough to feel his warm breath between them, his lips parted, hers skimming gently along his, hot, heavy breath, the pressure of his soft lips yielding to hers, the taste of his tongue. His hands, strong, firm, sliding slowly down her back, hitching up her shirt to touch skin as he pulled her closer. Her eyes fluttered, her breath caught in her throat, stomach churning. What the hell? It was Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook. This couldn't be happening. She snapped back into herself so suddenly she wondered if she'd actually fallen asleep. Her heart was racing. Tae and Jungkook were looking at her when her eyes finally focused on a solid object. "Bad dream?" Tae asked with an amused smile. "Did I fall asleep?" She muttered, genuinely confused. She kept her gaze locked firmly on Tae. She could see Jungkook out of the corner of her eye but was terrified that whatever had just happened to her was written all over her face. "Well you just jumped out of your skin so I figured you had." He replied. Her face was burning. She could practically still feel Jungkook, smell him, taste him. She needed to get out of here. She jumped up, causing Suga whose head had been resting against her knee to flop unceremoniously back onto the sofa, waking him with a start. "HUH? He yelped. "Erm....sorry Shugs" she muttered, ruffling her hair and trying to get her bearings while still carefully avoiding looking at Jungkook at all. "I need to go...pass out" she grumbled, heading straight for the stairs without looking back. She knew that exit was highly suspicious but once into the safety of her room, she didn't care. She leaned against the door, bracing it with her body as though she expected someone to try kick it in. The air was cool and refreshing thanks to the open window and she breathed steadily, trying to return her thumping heart to a regular rhythm. "Oh this is not good!" She whispered. --------------------------------------------------------------------- The following morning came far too quickly after a restless night. She just couldn't settle. Her stomach was in knots. What the hell had happened last night? What was that half awake fantasy business and why was it replaying in her mind like an iMax movie with full surround sound and smell-o-vision. She dreaded leaving the confines of her room for fear of running into him. Just the thought of seeing him made her stomach churn. "This is stupid!" She grumbled to herself, throwing her legs off the bed defiantly. "I will not be a prisoner in this god damn room for nothing. Last night was...a one off. Everything is fine. I will go downstairs, I will see Jungkook and he will just be Jungkook. No weird romance movie slideshow, no flutterings, thoughts or desires of any kind. Just...normal" Even she didn't really believe her whispered self pep talk but she feigned conviction anyway. She slid out of bed, pulled on ripped jeans and a hoodie and approached her bedroom door. With a deep breath, she reached for the handle and practically threw herself out of her room. Her determination was not only building by the second but she was also flooded with a sense of defiance. She jogged down the stairs, ready for the day ahead. Looking forward to hanging out with the boys and having a lazy day. She could hear the faint murmer of chatter as she approached the kitchen. Hobi was up for sure and maybe Namjoon. She strode into the kitchen with a bright smile. "Morning guys!" She was greeted with a chorus of responses and scanned the room. Hobi making coffee. Namjoon leaning on the

counter. Suga slumped at the kitchen table. Jimin and Tae chatting as they poured orange juice. No Jungkook. She ignored the wave of relief and made a beeline for Suga, ruffling his hair as he grumbled sleepily against the table top. "Morning Shugs" she grinned. Namjoon was looking at her quizically. "You seem...better today" he mused. She raised a questioning eyebrow at him as she squeezed passed Hobi for the coffee pot. "Better?" He nodded with a look of amusement. "You were...weird yesterday. Not yourself. You seemed...distracted." he said. She shrugged and shook her head. "Jetlag probably. I felt kind of out of it to be honest. Just needed to be home and sleep" she replied, nonchalantly. Namjoon wasn't buying it at all and she could tell by the look on his face but he nodded as though he accepted her reasoning. She stayed in the kitchen with the guys, filling them in on her trip back to England and what had happened during the 3 months away. She got so caught up in it that she didn't think about Jungkook at all. That was, until he came down. She was halfway through her bowl of cereal when he padded into the kitchen. Barefoot in black shorts and an oversized white t shirt showing off his tattoos. His long hair deliciously tousled. He was still sleepy eyed but he looked warm and...inviting. She dropped her spoon, clattering loudly against the table making everyone turn and look at her. "Whoops. Butter fingers" she mumbled sheepisly. Everyone carried on with what they were doing apart from Namjoon who was looking from her to Jungkook with a smirk. "Jetlag come back?" He teased. She could feel the heat rising to her face and hoped to every deity under the sun that she wasn't blushing. "Never dropped anything before?" She questioned. He shrugged and chuckled playfully. His gaze was casual but she felt like he could see every thought in her head. She pushed her half eaten cereal bowl away from her and leaned back in her chair. She was trying to look casual but had an inkling that she was failing miserably. Suddenly Jungkook was right behind her, leaning over the back of her chair to reach for her unfinished cereal. His hair tickled the side of her face and the faint fruity smell she associated with him flooded over her. Her breath caught sharply. Her heart kicking into double time. It lasted literally seconds but it seemed like an age before he straightened up with his stolen breakfast. He flashed her a bunny smile and wandered over to the fridge to grab milk. She realised she'd been holding her breath the entire time and let out a quiet huff. Namjoon's smirk had turned into a full blown grin. Flustered, she stood from the table and exited the kitchen. Maybe she'd find some solace in the lounge. She flopped wearily onto the sofa, closing her eyes and exhaling slowly. Damn. It didn't make any sense. How in the hell had Jungkook turned from bunny to honey overnight. A few more tattoos, an eyebrow piercing and slightly longer hair didn't change him that dramatically. He was still the exact same Jungkook she'd known for years. But...he wasn't. He was hot. Like...painfully, sinfully, stomach clenchingly hot. Had he always been this hot and she'd just not noticed? She knew he was attractive in the general sense. She worked for BTS. She saw the effect he had on women every day of her life. But... she'd never been one of them. He was just...adorable, sweet, regular Jungkook. Now one trip to England had turned the world on its head and there was nothing regular about him. She groaned with annoyance, closing her eyes. She was going to be objective about this if it killed her. She'd always been close to all the guys. Each one had a different facet to their personality that made them so very dear to her. Yoongi was a part of her. She loved him completely. Namjoon was her confidante. She could talk about anything with him and absolutely trust that he'd never give her anything back but honesty and understanding. Jimin was her sunshine. He could brighten the darkest of days with no effort. Tae was her sweetheart. One of the most

genuine, lovely people she'd ever known. Hobi and Jin made her laugh until she couldn't breathe on days when laughter seemed a million miles away. And Jungkook was a bunny. Sweet, playful, easy going, her gaming buddy. They were all integral to her. But NEVER in a romantic sense. It seemed almost laughable to her to put romance and any one of them in the same place. It just wasn't that thing. Ever. They were family. More than simple, fleeting romance. They were her ride or die. None of the others had changed a bit. She still loved them completely. She'd still die for any one of them. But now Jungkook wasn't so much tiptoeing as stomping in huge obnoxious boots into a whole new territory for her. Him and romance seemed intrinsically linked. They went together like water and ...more water. She couldn't even look at him without her mind throwing up a million different scenarios, none of which were located even remotely near the friend zone. She pictured him as he was when he walked into the kitchen. Objectively, that was just early morning after not a lot of sleep Jungkook. Not like she hadn't seen him like that a thousand times before. But this morning he was different. Sleepy, disheveled, soft and warm, relaxed, comforting and so so sexy. Jungkook and sexy were not two words that went together. Now she couldn't separate the two if her life depended on it. God, he was sexy. Like, lose all thought, toe curling, scream into a pillow sexy. Her mind raced, presenting her with thoughts to only fuel the fire. Him laid in bed, languid and comfortable, snuggling into him, feeling his body heat, legs entwined, burying her face into the back of his neck, smelling his hair as he grumbles happily, rolling towards her with a sleepy smile, his eyes still closed, skimming his fingertips up her arm until they stop on her neck, his thumb slowly stroking along her jaw, his lips meet hers in a lazy kiss, still halfway between sleep and waking, sweet to begin with, gentle, his lips brushing softly as he's pulled from his sleep, then teasing as he realises what's going on, his lips part, his tongue tickling her lips, asking for entry which is happily granted. His hand moves from her neck back down her arm until he finds her hand. Their fingers entwine as he rolls her onto her back and straddles her, lifting her hands to pin them either side of her head. He's more forceful now, tongues brushing together, his kiss deep and heady. A soft moan of contentment rumbles in his throat. He breaks the kiss, her eyes flutter open to see him on top of her, hair falling into his eyes as he scrunches his nose up in a wide smile. "Good morning" he whispers. "Everything ok?" A voice broke her from her daydream and her eyes snapped open. Namjoon was stood in the doorway of the lounge with the same grin he'd been sporting when she'd left the kitchen. "Peachy. Why?" She responded with a tight smile. "You're being weird again. If I didn't know better I'd think you and Jungkook hooked up" he shrugged. "WHAT?" she squeeked. Her attempt at casual fell completely flat. She sounded more like she'd just been stung by a bee. Namjoon laughed heartily. "Something's going on. What it is?" He questioned. She considered brushing it off but this was Namjoon. He could read her like a children's book. She swallowed hard, suddenly needing to say everything in her head out loud to a human person. Maybe that would make her realise how dumb it was and restore her sanity. She sighed heavily and noticing the expression on her face, Namjoons grin faded into a look of concern. "Can we talk?" She muttered. He frowned, nodding. "Of course. What is it?" He asked. She looked around and ran her fingers though her hair. "Not here. Outside?"

[hopelessromanticvirgo]

Sincerely, Always Yours

Chapter 42

Chapter 41

Warning: Panic attack. Mature content.

Robbe is alone at home, his mother went to visit her sister again and as usual, Robbe decided to stay at home instead of following her. His mom thinks Sander is staying with him. No matter how independent Robbe is, she tends to always get worried, not because he can’t take care of his self, both of them know that’s not true, and it’s not only her mother instincts kicking in, she just knows that Robbe doesn’t like being alone, specially at night, she only left him right now with one condition and it was the same as it always has been: Sander staying over at his place and Robbe promised her that he wouldn’t be alone, but he lied.

He hasn’t heard anything from the boy for almost three days now, he has been ignoring all his calls and messages. Robbe wants to say that he’s not worried but that would be another big lie.

He feels extremely confused about everything that has been going around. Sander said he wasn’t avoiding him, he knew that but that was in the past, now he was definitely ignoring him. He told him that he’d text him later but he never did.

Robbe didn’t want to blow his phone up but he left a few messages, just checking up on him.

Jens said he should leave Sander alone, that he would talk to him when he wanted to and that was exactly what Robbe was doing, but he sneakily left a few messages to him, letting him know that he was there for him.

Like always, even if Robbe doesn’t want to admit it often, Jens was right.

And Robbe found about that late at night one day.

His phone was buzzing around 3am. He went to bed just an hour ago but even for a short amount of time he still managed to went into the the deep sleep, and didn’t hear his phone at first.

Apparently, his phone has been calling for a while now, the person at the other side of the line didn’t give up until Robbe woke up and picked up his phone.

He almost had a heart attack when he saw who was calling at this time of the day, he sat up, his face panicked and answered his phone with his shaky hands.

“Sander? Hey.” He didn’t know what else to say, his heart already sure something horrible must have happened, anxiety eating him alive until the boy spoke up, but things got even way worse when he did.

“R-Robbe? C-can I - are you the-e-ere?” He breathed out weakly, his voice breaking which made Robbe held his breath.

Fuck. This is so bad.

“Hey. Yeah, I’m here, okay? Where are you? I will come to you. Just tell me where you are, please.” Robbe didn’t know what to think. All he knew was that he needed to be by his side immediately.

Sander took another shaky breath and tried to speak but when he couldn’t, he stopped, only mumbling words Robbe couldn’t hear.

“San, listen to my voice alright? I don’t know what’s wrong and if I can make everything better but I can be there for you. Let me be there for you, just tell me where you are. Are you at home? Are you alone?” Robbe needed to stay calm for him, he was trying to do so. Unfortunately or fortunately for him, he had a very good experience with that because of his mom.

But even if he somewhat knew what to do, he couldn’t help himself but still panic.

Not hearing from him for a while already made him worried and now, hearing him like this, being in this type of state, made alarms go off in his head.

The boy stayed so silent that Robbe even checked if he was still on the line with him.

“R-Robbe. I - I need you.” He cried out and Robbe felt the untouchable source tightening up the grip on his heart, making it harder for him to breath. Feeling his stomach drop.

He tightly closed his eyes, trying to only focus on the boy who was talking to him.

“I’m here, I’m here with you. Can I see you? If you don’t want to see me that’s okay too, but just talk to me okay? I hate hearing you like this, tell me what’s wrong. But if you don’t want to do that either I can just stay here, I will talk, you don’t have to say or do anything.” He was talking fast, trying to get the boy to open up maybe just a little bit.

Sander stayed quiet for a while and Robbe decided that he needed more reassurance. “Please Sander. I miss you.”

He really did. Not seeing him for a few days was a pure torture for him and specially now hearing how hurt and upset he was and while Robbe didn’t know the reason for it, all he wanted to do was to take his pain away.

Robbe doesn’t know what made Sander decide to finally let him in, or if he was just checking to see what Robbe’d say but all he said was: “I’m outside of your house.” And Robbe was instantly out of the bed and by his doorstep.

When he opened the door he didn’t know what to expect, so he was kind of surprised to see that Sander was really there, standing, his black jacket hugging him close to his body. Robbe went up to him, he turned on the light in the hallway so when he looked at him, he could see what kind of condition he was in, his face white, eyes and nose red from crying and cold, his cheeks ruined with tears, his hair messy, fidgeting on his foot.

Robbe didn’t know if he should touch him yet or not, so he tried to control his hands, without panicking, moved away from the door which Sander took as a clue to let himself in, walked in slowly, not looking at Robbe, not even once.

The brunet closed the door and followed him. The boy went in his living room, took off his shoes and jacket and sat down on the couch.

“Do you want something? Maybe some coffee or tea?” Robbe asked softly, ignoring the desperate feeling of wanting to embrace him in his arms, not wanting to make him uncomfortable until Sander would tell him it was okay to do so.

Sander shook his head.

Robbe stayed there, leaning on the door of the living room, staring at Sander, until the boy looked up at him and whispered: “can you come here?” Robbe was sitting by his side in the next second, his hands urging to touch him, his fingers wanted to intertwine with Sander’s own.

Sander was taking a very long time to start talking but Robbe didn’t have anywhere else to be but with him, Sander could take as much time as he wanted and needed.

“Robbe?” He finally spoke up after a while and Robbe almost jumped because of sudden breaking of the silence.

“Yeah. I’m listening.” He hates seeing him like this, feeling so hopeless because he doesn’t know what to do, or what to say. All he can do is to hold him but he can’t do that right now too.

“I’m unhappy, Robbe. I’m extremely unhappy.” Sander said, his voice serious, on the edge of breaking, which made Robbe took a swallow breath.

He stayed quiet, waiting for Sander to go on but then he realized that Sander wasn’t going to continue talking.

“Unhappy about what Sander?” He carefully asked, got a little bit closer to him. Sander noticed but didn’t make any comment, still looking in front of him, staring at the wall.

“About everything.” The sentence held so much pain and torture that it left Robbe shocked. He has been with him on his bad days, but he has never heard Sander saying something with this type of emotion. So strong, filled with agony.

“Are you unhappy about me too?” Robbe asked just because he had nothing else to say.

He didn’t want to hear an answer to that.

Sander looked at him for the first time since he got there.

Everything but you. He wanted to say but decided to stay quiet, since in the end even if he wanted it or not, Robbe was one of the reason why he wasn’t happy, he just couldn’t admit it.

“I cheated on Britt.” He said, which took Robbe by surprise since he was waiting for anything but that.

This time Sander continued what he was saying, without stopping.

“I cheated. Or everyone tells me I did. I don’t remember anything. You’re also not telling me what happened or what I did. You say you don’t remember but - I can feel that you’re lying - I feel disgusting. There is a big hole in my head that I can’t fill in. After you told me that I was so fucked up - I - I don’t remember anything I did - I - I lost control and I - fuck” he started breathing hard again and that was Robbe’s last straw, he pulled him towards himself and hugged his head close to his chest. Sander went numb in his arms, completely broke down.

Robbe tried to say something but Sander didn’t let him, he was still continuing his desperate ranting, clutching Robbe’s T-shirt in his hands. “I try so hard to remember but I just can’t - I - I don’t remember anything, Robbe and I feel so dirty and disgusting - my head is full of thoughts, I’m overthinking and I just can’t stop - there is a part of my life that I don’t remember and you know how much I hate losing control - Did I - someone - a stranger? I shouldn’t - I hate myself - lost control - it wasn’t supposed to happen -“ Sander started gasping for air, Robbe getting more and more scared by each passing second. He tightened up his grip on him, made him look up at his face.

Sander knew he was lying to him, or maybe not lying but also not telling him the full truth and Robbe felt horrible. Somehow he was always the one causing him the pain. Would it be really better for him to know what really happened? But Robbe also has no idea what was real or not. So he decided to stay quiet.

Maybe it was a wrong choice.

Robbe can understand what Sander was trying to tell him. When Jens first told him about Sander cheating, he couldn’t believe it, because of how much Sander hates cheating. One time he even said something like “how can you sleep with a person you’re not in love with, I don’t understand” which stayed with Robbe for years now. He remembers Sander telling him that he didn’t touch Britt that day, which technically meant that he wasn’t in love with her yet, or wasn’t that deep in love so he’d sleep with her. If Robbe is honest, that made him calm down a bit, made him a little bit happy to hear.

So hearing about cheating for Sanded must have been hard knowing how loyal he is about not making love to anybody he isn’t in love with.

Robbe can’t help him much, he knows and is sure that they were together the whole night that day, but if that’s true then ironically Robbe must be the one who gave him the hickey, and even if he remembers them kissing each other, he has no memory of that, so saying something would only make things worse.

What if he’s just completely wrong? What if they never kissed and maybe they were even away from each other for a while and Sander got it from another person?

As much as that though makes him sick down in his stomach, it’s a possibility. But he can’t say a word about it since it will only make Sander feel worse, because right now, part of him must already be thinking that he cheated with somebody he didn’t know, a stranger, someone he didn’t love.

And that’s why he felt disgusting.

“Hey, hey Sander listen to me, can you do that?” When the boy couldn’t answer and only started crying harder, Robbe knew he had to ask an easier question.

“Can you breath with me? Is that okay?” After a while Sander nodded his head. “Okay, try to follow my breathing okay? Look at me in the eyes.”

Sander looked up and as Robbe was about to try to help him calm down, Sander froze and stopped crying, holding his breath, just staring at him, his cheeks stained with tears, his gaze unfocused like he didn’t know where and with who he was. “Is it me? Is it my fault?”

Robbe felt that the topic of the conversation completely shifted to something else, he could see it in Sander’s eyes and he got scared of what the boy would say next.

“What is your fault Sander?” Robbe asked softly, trying to ignore the fact that the boy wasn’t making any sense, it seemed like he was just thinking out loud, about something Robbe had no idea but he was at least glad that he was included in this conversation and Sander felt comfortable enough to talk about it.

“Why isn’t it me, Robbe?” He asked out of the blue but still looked zoned out.

Sander’s thoughts were all over the place and Robbe could feel that.

“Why isn’t it me? Am I that unlovable? Why can’t I be happy for once? Am I asking too much? Why don’t I deserve it? Why don’t I deserve love and happiness?”

“Sander, no, you -“ Robbe tried to say, shook his head, couldn’t understand how Sander could say stuff like this about himself.

All he wanted to do was to tell him how lovable he was, and how he deserved everything in this world but even if he had the guts to say it, he couldn’t do it right now, not when he was this vulnerable and not thinking straight.

Not now when all Sander needed was emotional support and somebody who would listen to him.

“Oh you - why - fuck Robbe why don’t I deserve happiness?” He shook his head like he was out of the phase and looked away.

“Sander you do, you deserve it. Who makes you think you don’t? Because they are wrong okay? You deserve everything.”

Sander wasn’t listening to him, still going off about his own thing.

“Is it because maybe I’m needy? Maybe because I get jealous easily? Am I not a good person?”

“Sander, what the hell are you talking about? You’re the best person I know, okay?” He tried to hold his hand but Sander put them up in his head and tugged his hair with them, letting out a deep sigh.

“Why am I never the one Robbe? Why am I not -“ he said and leaned back on the couch, throwing his head back.

You’re the only one.

Robbe has no idea what to say, and it’s not like Sander is asking him to say anything really.

But he can’t exactly stay quiet, so he tries again, opening his mouth to say something but Sander cuts him off again.

“Britt and I broke up.” He said out of the topic again, jumping from one sentence to another.

“Yeah?” Robbe doesn’t like the changing of the topics but he doesn’t have that much choice and saying in this, does he.

“It was meant to happen, we all knew.” Sander slightly shook his head again, and cringed his mouth in disapproval.

“Are you happy without her?” Robbe dared to ask, being so worried about the boy that he even didn’t feel any joy from hearing the news.

“She was never the problem.” He said, playing with the ring on his second finger.

“Then who was?” Robbe tried and got a little bit close to his body again, hoping that he wouldn’t be pushed away.

Sander looked at him after Robbe said that, then knitted his eyebrows together and looked around. “Are you alone?” Asked in a confused voice.

“Yeah. My mom - uh - she’s staying at her sister’s for a while. I didn’t - I wanted to tell you but I - I knew you weren’t feeling well - so -“ he started scratching the back of his neck, avoiding Sander’s gaze.

The boy nodded his head and got up, making the brunet’s eyes wide, getting ready to get up too, afraid Sander was going to leave him.

“Where are you going?” His scared voice asked, already on his feet.

Sander looked at him up and down, with somehow amused face. “I’m going to the bathroom.”

“Oh - yeah - yeah sorry - uh - yea - go. I will be here.” He muttered, feeling the blush creeping up on his cheeks and watched Sander disappear in the hallway.

He took a big sigh, this wasn’t what he expected to happen at all.

He feels useless, the boy he is in love with is hurting and he just can’t do anything to prevent that from happening. He feels sick.

The fact that Sander isn’t making sense doesn’t help at all. He’s constantly jumping from one thing to another and Robbe can’t make out much from what he’s saying. He feels like he wants to rip his hair out, his frustrated, because he can’t do anything.

He feels like that one time when his mother started showing symptoms for her mental illness, he was just a kid, alone, not knowing what to do.

Then he had Jens. And after that he had Sander to lean his shoulder on too.

He still does.

Sander is the best thing that has ever happened to him. Robbe remembers is like it was yesterday when they first meet, how fast they became friends, Sander getting Robbe out of his comfort zone and shield, making him do stuff he’d never imagine doing, being spontaneous, being amazing, perfect.

Robbe noticed they were getting way too close way too fast. Sander going with Robbe and him mom when they’d go on a vacation so Robbe would have fun. Robbe following Sander’s parents in their countryside cottage every year.

It was the best thing until Robbe realized that he started wondering what Sander’s lips tasted like, he started touching his hands or hair when it wasn’t necessary, he started stealing his clothes when they’d hang out together at his place, stuffing it in his backpack, smelling it when he’d go back home, wearing it when he’d go to sleep at night until Sander’s smell would disappear and change with his own, then he’d wash it and secretly put it back in Sander’s closet, taking the different tshirt for himself and the circle would repeat over and over again.

And Robbe didn’t know why he was doing all those. He thought every friends acted like that but then he realized that he wasn’t acting like this with Jens, and after that, it wasn’t long before he found out the truth, which started everything, every mess in his life that has ever been created.

He let out a exhausted sigh. He really needs to get some sleep, right now he’s not thinking clearly, but in his defense, neither is the boy who just walked back in the room.

“Are you sure you don’t want anything?” Robbe asked while yawning as Sander sat down next to him again.

“No, I’m not hungry.” He said, now somehow seeming on a better mood.

“Alright. So -“ Robbe hates awkward situations.

“So -“

“Does your mom know you’re here?” Robbe suddenly says and watches Sander’s face drop and that’s all he needs to see to know the answer to his question.

“Sander!” He said in a scolding manner. “She’s gonna be so worried. Wait, I will call her.” Robbe said and got up to get his phone but Sander hold his wrist to stop him and made him sit down again.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. She won’t even notice I’m gone, don’t worry.” The boy is never the one to make his parents worried which is another red flag for Robbe and he looks at him weirdly.

“I will just tell her you’re here, that’s all.” He said slowly and carefully but Sander still refused, which made Robbe take a moment, his eyes wide.

“You don’t want me to talk to her.” He said as a matter of fact and when Sander stayed silent, he realized that he figured it out correctly. His eyes went wide,made Sander let go of his hand. “Wait. What? Why don’t you want me to talk to her?”

“It’s just - she will say something and I don’t -“ he started mumbling, looking around the room.

“Oh my god, you are afraid. What? You’re afraid of what she’s going to tell me?” Robbe questioned again.

“Robbe it’s not that serious -“ Sander tried to make it better but the boy already figured it out.

“You know she’s going to tell me thing that you have been hiding, don’t you? You’re afraid she will tell me why you’re acting like this.” Robbe said, debating whenever he should call her or not, when Sander turned to him and held his fingers with both of his hands, making Robbe look down at their connected hands.

“Can you do something for me?” Sander asks softly, his eyes gone, zoned out, like he’s out of his world. Robbe started breathing heavily, forgetting everything he wanted to do say or do.

Sander was finally asking for something and Robbe immediately focused on that.

“Yeah, anything.” He whispered, still looking down at their hands and Sander squeezed it, making the boy look up at him.

“Anything?” He asked again and Robbe nodded in agreement.

I will do anything for you.

“Robbe.” He whispered, closing his eyes and reopening them like he was dazed, like he was still high.

High on something else.

“Yeah? I’m here.” The air around them became different, something changed but Robbe didn’t know what.

Robbe started getting nervous, scared of what would happen in the next minute.

And apparently he had every reason to feel this way because the next thing Sander whispered, almost made him fall down on the floor.

“Kiss me.”

“W-what?” Did Robbe heard him right?

Sander closed his eyes again and repeated it.

Robbe felt something getting stuck in his throat, his palms getting sweaty.

Is this some kind of a sick joke?

When Robbe didn’t answer him, Sander got a little bit closer, making the boy try to back off but he was sitting right against the cushion on the sofa, he couldn’t go anywhere.

“Please, kiss me.” He whispered again, painfully, his voice sounds like he already gave up on something.

Robbe couldn’t talk, he felt frozen, staring at his face, the way he looked, his face covered with an emotion Robbe couldn’t figure out. His voice desperate, with a bit of sadness in it.

Robbe knew he had to say something, so he started: “Sander, I -“ but the boy got interrupted when Sander got even closer to him, letting go of his hands, now both of his palms touching Robbe’s face, against his cheeks, his thumb going up and down on his skin, sending shivers down to his spine.

Robbe was somehow sure that he stopped breathing but when he looked down at how fast his chest was moving because of his rapid breaths, he stayed quite surprised.

Sander didn’t waste any time and put his forehead against Robbe’s.

“Please, Robbe. Tell me that I can kiss you and I will. It doesn’t have to mean anything, I just - I - I need y - I need it, please.” His painful, at the edge of breaking and shaking voice breathed out against Robbe’s lips.

The only thing Robbe could see was his eyes, right in front of him. He had nowhere to run, or to hide but he knew something about this was very wrong.

“I - I don’t think that’s a good idea, you’re not -“ he tried to say but Sander shook his head against him, making Robbe’s head also move slightly.

How can Robbe say that this is what he has been dreaming for his whole life but he didn’t want it to happen like this, not when Sander wasn’t thinking clearly.

“Shh - don’t think about that - no thinking okay? Just answer me.” He said, his hands still on his cheeks, making Robbe feel trapped and safe at the same time.

The universe must be fucking with him, pulling this kind of shit upon him.

“Can I kiss you?” Sander asks again, not giving up and Robbe knows all his control will be slipping away any time soon, and he doesn’t know how to feel about that.

“Can I kiss you? Yes or no?” Sander demanded and Robbe swallowed hard, looking deep into Sander’s eyes, seeing tears which started forming in them.

It was not a surprise that Robbe was selfish.

He often did things that he knew were wrong but just because he was egoistic, he didn’t care, or maybe he did but tried to ignore it.

This time wasn’t an exception, so when Sander asked him to give him an answer, not moving a muscle until Robbe would tell him to do so, he decided to cover a few centimeter of space that were between their faces and touch his lips with his own, finally giving in. And that was the moment when Robbe realized that it was definitely not his time kissing Sander and all the emotions he felt in the past came back rushing in his head, but still not sure quite of what happened that day and if the things he remembered were one hundred percent real.

This time Sander lips didn’t taste like alcohol or cigarettes, it tasted salty, which Robbe realized was because of his tears running down from his eyes to his chin, but it was soft, tender, filled with emotions.

Robbe felt Sander’s fingers going towards the back of his neck, gripping his hair, kissing him back and Robbe was melting, or flying, he can’t be sure, he just knows that he left the earth and he’s somewhere far away, where only thing that mattered in this world was his lips kissing Sander.

He shouldn’t be enjoying this as much as he is, deep down he knows it’s wrong but when he feels Sander’s tongue against his mouth, he instantly opens it and all his worries are thrown out of the window for a little while.

The boy pulls away soon, his face showing fear but Robbe doesn’t let him, too mesmerized, pushes him against the other side of the sofa, practically sitting on top of him, his hands roaming around on his body.

Robbe can’t stop, Sander is like a drug, he tasted it once, he was forced to forget about it, to get “recovered” but the taste of his lips were still in his memories, nobody being able to un-carve them out of his mind, but now he tasted it again, instantly getting lost in his feelings and he knows, he’s addicted and no matter what, after this, he will never get help, there isn’t a rehab for this, there is only pain to live with being addicted to something you can never have and Robbe has to deal with it, but he doesn’t care, he just wants to taste it again, and again, and again, until he takes his last breath. And if he dies because of this addiction, he’s okay with that too.

There are hands sneaking under his shirt, resting on his back, going up and down, making the boy shiver and he feels his self getting dizzy.

His lips never stop moving, getting lost and lost in the kiss, sinking deep towards the hell of burning feelings.

Robbe has no idea how much time passed, maybe a few minutes, maybe hours, but the next thing he knows is that he’s getting up, dragging Sander along with him from the couch, not letting him pull away, not pushing away his lips, the boy mumbling a quiet and scared “what - what are you doing?” against him, Robbe only shushing him, whispering “bedroom” in his mouth, feeing the other boy swallowing while nodding his head.

How they got to Robbe’s room the boy doesn’t remember. All he remembers is that he somehow managed to make Sander’s t-shirt disappear somewhere in the hallway, probably throwing and dropping it on the floor.

As soon as they opened the door, Robbe pushed him on the bed, laying down on top of him, taking both of his wrists in his right hand and pushing them over his head, holding them there together, continuing kissing his lips until he let go of his hands and trailed his lips towards his neck, whispering: “I’m gonna leave marks okay?” The boys under him nodding his head, whimpering, gripping Robbe’s hair in his now free hands.

Robbe saw an almost vanished mark on his neck, eyed it. The mark that started and ruined everything but the real question was if it really destroyed something or built it.

He started kissing the skin, trying to leave as much marks as he possibly could, going from his neck down to his chest and that’s where alarms in his head came back.

His head froze.

The thought of everything he was doing being so wrong came back. Sander was vulnerable, Robbe isn’t supposed to be doing this.

You’re taking advantage.

He’s not mentally stable to push you away.

Stop.

He will hate you for this.

You’re taking advantage of his condition.

He’s not thinking clearly.

He doesn’t want you.

He’s just vulnerable, he doesn’t know what’s going on.

You’re selfish.

You’re using him.

He froze, his lips started trembling. Sander wasn’t pushing him away and stopping now would mean that there was a possibility of Sander realizing he didn’t want this, and if that happened, Robbe would never get the chance to be this close to him again.

His head is about to explode, he still had no idea how they got there.

If he will keep quiet, Sander won’t push him away.

But at the same time, he feels like he’s taking advantage which he can’t do to Sander.

Fuck.

He stopped and Sander noticed, looked up at him and Robbe felt so scared.

What am I doing?

The part of his head was screaming at him to go on, the egoistic one but the other part was begging him to not do something he’d regret later just because he acted selfish.

I’m selfish.

I love him.

I’m selfish.

I love him.

I love him.

I love him.

Robbe stopped and sat up. Not going away from Sander, still practically sitting on top of him, looking down at his terrified face and he felt horrible.

“I’m sorry - I - I don’t think we should - I don’t want to take advantage of this situation - you’re not thinking clearly and I -“ Robbe started and immediately Sander’s face dropped, his jaw clenched, looked away, turning his head away.

“You don’t want me.” He whispered, his voice filled with pain, trying to make his head disappear in the pillow.

“No. Sander, no. That’s not - “ he took a big breath, sitting on top of his shirtless best friend, person who he was in love with, dying to scream about how much he wanted and loved him, but wasn’t able to.

“I just need to know you’re okay with this. I can’t just - I need to make sure you’re -“ Why was everything so hard to say? Maybe because Sander was staring at him with his big, beautiful eyes, making Robbe forget about everything else but the boy in front of him.

Sander pushed himself up on his elbows, kissed Robbe, making the boy smile and wrap one of his hand around his head, other on his waist balancing him in his arms. And like some kind of miracle, everything was okay again.

“Just shut up, okay? Just stop talking and kiss me.” Sander said against his lips and Robbe couldn’t bring himself to argue with him again, kissing him again, laying him down on the bed.

Staring at his face as went down, to his neck again, then towards his chest, Sander’s eyes not leaving his own as he trailed even down.

Robbe still knew it was wrong, still knew it wasn’t supposed to happen like this but no matter what it was still magical, more than anything he could ask for.

More than anything he could even wish for.

He knows he fell a long time ago but it was this exact second when he realized that he would never be able to get up, he’d have to be on the ground his whole life.

It’d never get better. They’d never get over this.

Robbe is the type of person who overthinks about everything, thinks about every version and options and right now, no matter how much he tries to block out his thought about the future, he knows, they are doomed.

Robbe would never be able to be his friend after this, and as much as he was already upset, as much as he was already grieving, he couldn’t help but feel like in the heaven.

And maybe sometimes we need to chose between being okay for a longtime and between living your best life for a few seconds.

Robbe made that choice. Wrong or right, he already made it.

After a while when he was the one on his back, his nails leaving marks on Sander’s shoulders, looking up at him, consuming by the things he was feeling, throwing himself in that black hole, disappearing. He watched their friendship or whatever it was, crumbling into pieces, crashing down, and he knew they’d never be able to glue the broken pieces back to each other.

Robbe was selfish. He knew he wasn’t ready to make the choice he made.

He wasn’t ready to destroy his most purest relationship.

But in the heat of the moment, he did it. And he dragged Sander down with him.

He exchanged the best thing he had in his life for a pure bliss of a feeling which would end before he’d even notice.

Did robbe already feel guilty? Yes but at the same time no.

But his worries were managing to disappear for a while when he’d feel soft lip on his own, or feel them on his neck.

He knew they’d never be okay after this. His mind was already making him ready to let all of it, and that second came faster when they breathed out together, exhausted, the boy’s forehead on his own, putting it down on his chest, hiding his face, both of them trying to calm down, frozen against each other’s bodies.

When he felt Sander’s breathing getting frequent, he woke up from his dream, realized they were back to the reality and winced.

“Hey, hey, hey.” He sat him up with him, put his face between his palms, looking into his scared eyes, watching his chest rising up and down, figuring out that it must be hard for him to breath.

“I - I’m sorry - I - I shouldn’t have - I should go I - I’m sorry -“ Sander cried out, fresh tears falling down from his eyes and Robbe was hit straight on his face with a horrible reality.

Sander was weeping because of their lost friendship.

“Look at me. Look at me.” Robbe demented, knowing he needed to be the big guy here, he need to take matters and responsibilities into own his hands.

“Don’t think, just don’t think about anything! Do you hear me? Don’t think! Can you do that for me?” He sternly asked, shaking Sander’s body a bit after the boy only shook his head.

“No, no. Listen to me, don’t think. Just not now. Come here.” He laid down again, making Sander put his head on his chest, wrapping him in his arms tightly, not planning to let go until he’d be forced to do so.

He needs to keep this feeling as long as he can.

He needs to keep him here with him as long as he can.

“Can you focus on my heartbeat?” Robbe asked, putting Sander’e ear right on top of his heart.

“Listen to it okay? Focus on how it’s beating. Don’t think. Just focus on that.” He swallowed. Feeling like a mom in the war, pretending that everything was alright for her kids, pretending that everything would be okay while people were throwing bombs right on top of them.

Sander slowly nodded.

“It’s fast”. He whispered against his skin.

“Yeah? That’s because you’re with me. It’s always fast around you. Can you listen to it calm down? I promise you, it will start getting slower. Can you do that for me?” He asked, tighten up the grip against him, pulling him even close even if it was impossible, kissing Sander’s head with his trembly lips.

He felt the boy nodded again, closely listening to Robbe’s heartbeat getting slower and slower as the boy was trying to calm down.

It continued after a few minutes, until Robbe forced himself to relax, coming down from his high finally and also trying not to panic.

At least not until the morning.

When he looked down, Sander’s eyes were closed, his face calm, and he breathed out, kissing his head again.

Biting his lip so he wouldn’t make a sound while the tears started to silently fall down from his eyes.

He is happy about what happened, he’s in the clouds but he knows this day means the end of their friendship.

He’s crying because he knows it’s over.

He’s crying because he feels like it’s the last day he’ll be able to hold Sander this close to his body.

And Robbe’s just a boy. He’s just a boy in love.

Just a poor boy captivated and held from the fears he has, but he doesn’t have to be afraid of what would happen if he wouldn’t be able to fight his feelings anymore.

Here is what would happen.

He’s not guilty that it happened.

He’s happy.

But he ruined everything.

He fell and while doing so, he made everything around him crash down too.

Robbe is sure Sander won’t be there to catch him as he promised and he’s crying.

Holding boy close to him, saying goodbye to him in his head, saying goodbye to everything.

“We were never just friends, were we?” He asks nobody particular.

“At least you were never just a friend for me.” Robbe added, smiling sadly, kissing his hair again, a tear falling down on Sander’s head while he was doing it.

Robbe doesn’t know how it happened. What Sander feels. Why he asked for Robbe to kiss him. A hopeless romantic part of him is whispering the truth to him but for Robbe, it’s too good to be true so he doesn’t listen, convinced that Sander will never want to see him again, so he’s taking what he can take.

I wish I could hold you close and never let go.

I don’t want to let go.

Please don’t let me let go of you.

Robbe stayed up until the very first light of the sun, couldn’t sleep, his thoughts dark and heavy, feeling helpless like he usually does, smiles weekly when Sander will mumble something in his sleep or scrunch up his nose.

But then exhaustion took over his body. Last thing he remembers is somebody kissing the skin right on top of his heart in his sleep, warming up Robbe’s whole body.

A blond boy was kissing the heart which belonged to him. Poetic.

Chapter 43

[shyvioletcat]

Okay DEF “you’re dripping blood on the carpet” but “on my carpet” would be funnier. For Elorcan, I’d say.

I’m titling this Fixer-upper Part 1

~~~~~

Elide stood on the front lawn looking at the little house in front of her. It was nothing fancy, just a little weatherboard cottage, three bedrooms (although one was definitely more study sized), one bathroom and open planned kitchen and living area. It wasn't much, but it was hers. And something Elide was immensely proud of.

It was also a fixer-upper. Another reason Elide had actually been able to afford the thing. With a sigh she walked up the uneven wooden steps and unlocked the door. She was lucky that most of the work to be done was cosmetic, but regardless the only room she had set up was her bedroom, the other furniture yet to be purchased or in storage until everything was done.

When it came to actually fixing up houses Elide wasn’t all that knowledgeable. She had planned to watch a lot of YouTube and harass the workers down at the hardware store, but Rowan had a better offer. Elide had been celebrating her knew purchase with her best friend and her best friend’s boyfriend and showing them pictures of all the things that needed to be done when Rowan had come up with a solution. His friend had recently lost his job and was a bit of a handyman apparently. Elide had met Lorcan a few times, a bit of a sullen prick and not very sociable – also Aelin hated his guts – but Rowan had looked so hopeful that Elide had agreed. A favour to Rowan more than anything.

There was a knock on the front door and Elide went to greet the punctual sullen prick himself. She swung the front door open, the thing groaning in a way that told her the hinges weren’t long for this world, and Lorcan stood there with a giant toolbox in his hand.

“Hi,” Elide said.

“Hey,” Lorcan said as he moved past her into the house. “Thought I’d start in the kitchen so you can start using it.”

Well, he wasn’t one for conversation but at least he was efficient.

“Cool, I’ll just be in my room if you need me,” Elide said and left him to work.

Hooking her laptop up to her phone data Elide started looking at kitchen things, seeming as that was the priority. The bones of it were good, but it needed a new bench top. She had been looking for a while, and was distracted by spice racks when she heard a vicious stream of swear words, enough to make the most seasoned sailor blush. Elide was about to investigate when Lorcan nudged the door open, one hand holding the other, blood covering both.

“What did you do?” Elide asked, too stunned to do anything.

“Got any band-aids?”

Elide blinked once. “I think you’re going to need more than a band-aid for that.”

Lorcan shrugged. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”

Springing into action Elide got up, finding her first-aid kit in one of her boxes, thanking Annieth for the sense to pack it in her essentials, and also grabbed the old towel she had used to wrap up her bedside lamp in. Elide turned around, Lorcan still stood there holding the injury.

“You just gonna stand there?” He said flatly, like her assistance was an inconvenience.

“You’re dripping blood on my carpet,” Elide said.

Lorcan looked down and that swearing started again then he fled the room.

Elide followed him out and found him leaning on the bench. She took her time getting over to him, laying a towel on top of the counter for him to bleed on.

Elide waited but Lorcan didn’t offer his hand to her. “Are you just gonna stare at your hand, or?”

Without a word Lorcan relented his hand and Elide got to work. He was right, it wasn’t as bad as all the blood made it look like, it was just a long cut on the palm of his hand. She put a large band-aid over it then a bandage for extra protection. Lorcan flexed his hand and then went back to his task. Elide’s brows were high and she was about to spit a spiteful you’re welcome when he glanced over his shoulder.

“Thanks,” he said. “I'll clean up the mess on the carpet.”

“Okay, sure,” Elide said. “I’m gonna head out for a bit.”

“Okay.”

That was the end of that conversation it seemed. Elide went back to her room and grabbed her purse, glancing back at her kitchen on her way out. She couldn’t see him but she could hear him working on something. Lorcan was... he was something. When she got back he was gone and so were the blood stains.

~~~~~

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[max-is-tired]

It’s Fine By Me (If You Never Leave)

Pairing: Dukexiety

Characters: Remus Sanders, Virgil Sanders

Words: 2.062

Warnings: Sympathetic Remus, swearing, crying, kissing

Notes: I... might be starting to grow lowkey in love with Dark Sides ships sdkjvnsjkfvn 

Anyway!! here is a new fic, not even a week after the last one I posted -miracles exist apparently. A big thank you to my boyfriend @afulldeckofaces for catching the mistakes that slipped past 3am me skvnsfjv you’re the best babe <3

I hope you guys like it!!

Commission me!!  Buy me a coffee!!  Join my Discord server!!

If you had told 15 years old Virgil that one day he would’ve fallen in love with none other than Remus Grimm, he would’ve probably ended up cracking a rib or two by laughing too much.

And yet, look at him now -19 years old ad head over hills for his best friend, who just happened to have had to move two towns over because of college.

God, feelings sucked.

Virgil groaned in frustration, letting his forehead hit the textbook lying open in front of him with a muffled thump.

He was tired. He was so. Fucking. Tired. Tired of college, tired of this stupid crush that kept stubbornly refusing to go away, tired of his stupid anxiety and tired of having to deal with all of this without his best friend by his side.

Yes, he was grumpy because he hadn’t seen Remus in more than a month, sue him.

As if sensing his worsening mood, his phone buzzed, breaking Virgil out of his thoughts. Letting out a series of annoyed grumbles and half-assed curses, Virgil snatched his phone from where it was lying on the desk, Remus’ wild grin staring back at him from the screen.

It was a photo they had taken that summer, just before Remus had had to leave for college. Roman had been the one taking it, the day Patton had decided to drag -for some more literally than others- their entire group out for some ice cream.

Remus had thrown his arm around Virgil’s shoulder, proudly showing off his chocolate mustache as the other fumbled with his cone to keep it from falling to the ground.

Virgil remembered glaring daggers at him for a total of two seconds before Remus’ waggling eyebrows did him in and sent him in a snickering fit.

Virgil remembered the weight of Remus’ arm around his shoulder, his warmth seeping through his shirt in a way that somehow, didn’t make him uncomfortable -he had never felt uncomfortable with Remus, not once, not even under the hot summer Florida weather in the middle of July.

He only saw that photo for the first time later that night, staring at Remus’ wide grin and sparkling green eyes as his heart hammered in his chest.

The realization had crashed over him like a tsunami, every thought in his head screeching to a halt as he slowly became more and more aware of the fact that he was very much in love with his best friend.

”Of course,” Virgil remembered thinking, staring at his phone with wide eyes, ”who else could it be?”

And boy if that thought alone hadn’t scared the living shit out of him.

For a moment, Virgil let his mind linger on the memory of that sunny afternoon, a soft smile stretching on his face.

Then, he swiped up and clicked on the notification.

”You up for a little chat?” read Remus’ message, followed by a string of random emojis Virgil didn’t even try to decipher -he knew it would probably be useless since they rarely made sense in the first place.

Virgil frowned, threw a considering glance at his textbook and the various papers still scattered on the desk and shrugged -it was not like he was getting anything done anyway.

“sure, why not”

Not even ten seconds later Virgil’s phone lit up with an incoming call, the first notes of My Immortal filling the room.

“Hey there Spider boy!” came Remus’ voice from the other side of the line.

Immediately, Virgil felt some of the tension leave his shoulders, relaxing back on his chair as he pushed himself away from the cluttered desk.

“Sup, Trashman,” he answered, not even bothering to fight down the tired grin tugging at his lips -Remus was not there to tease him about it anyway, so.

“Wow, don’t sound too excited to hear from me.”

Virgil snorted, his smile turning more and more genuine as the seconds passed.

“Fuck you.”

“Maybe later. But really, you sound like shit -everything alright? Are there some bones that I need to break?”

Virgil groaned, leaning back as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Now that he wasn’t panicking over his homework exhaustion was slamming down on him full-force, making it very hard for him to string together a coherent thought let alone think about filtering whatever shit was coming out of his mouth.

“It’s just… fucking everything, man. College is kicking my ass, my anxiety is kicking my ass and I’m just- I’m just tired, you know?”

From the other side of the line, Virgil heard Remus hiss in sympathy at his words.

“Yeah, shit, that sounds rough as hell.”

A beat of silence, and then-

“I can drive over and burn down your campus if you want. No college, no classes. Boom, airtight.”

Virgil couldn’t have stopped the amused snickers leaving his mouth even if he’d tried, shoulders shaking with his laughter as he fought to stifle it down.

“Thanks for the very tempting offer, but I think I’ll give it a pass for now.”

Then, he sighed, feeling his smile slip away as he stared at the ceiling, his sadness starting to creep up on him again. “... I miss you,” he whispered -he hadn’t exactly meant to say that out loud, but he had and now just couldn’t stop.

“I just- I miss our daily escapades and you sneaking into my room at the oddest hours of the day because you decided for some reason that simply using the front door was too mainstream.”

Virgil took in a ragged breath, distantly feeling his eyes start to sting with unshed tears.

“I miss being able to just call you when everything gets too much with the knowledge you’ll be knocking at my window in five minutes max. I miss having you physically by my side every day, I miss my best friend and I feel so fucking bad about it because you’re following your dreams and I’m proud of you, I really am but I also want you right here by my side and-”

Virgil audibly snapped his mouth shut, pressing a hand over his lips to stifle his sobs as tears streamed down his face out of his control.

“I’m sorry,” he whimpered, moving the phone away from his ear.

“Virgil-” Remu voice called, sounding worried and maybe a little desperate. but before he could say anything more, Virgil hung up, letting his room fall back into silence before throwing the phone somewhere on his bed.

Virgil bit down hard on his lip, but he could do nothing against the sobs that kept bubbling in his throat. One escaped, then another and soon Virgil could do nothing but curl up with his head hidden between his knees, yearning for the one person that could not help him the way he wanted him to.

+++

Virgil didn’t exactly remember when he fell asleep, his memory being somewhat hazy in-between the tears that seemed to never end and the way he kept feeling like something was trying to squeeze him to death from the inside-out.

What he did remember, however, was waking up to a very familiar sound -one he’d thought he wouldn’t get to hear again in quite some time.

Initially, during those few moments floating between dreams and awakening, when reality hasn’t quite set in yet and sleep still hangs heavily from your eyelids, Virgil had almost believed he was still dreaming, his own vain hopes playing cruel tricks to his brain.

But the seconds kept ticking and Virgil kept hearing the goddamn sound, so there were only two possible explanations -either someone was trying to break into his room, or-

Virgil bolted up, almost tumbling off the chair he had fallen asleep on -which, ouch- in his haste to get to the window.

And sure enough, there Remus was, with his signature manic grin as he waved at Virgil from the tree branch he was perched on.

Virgil stared, hands moving almost on their own as they went through the familiar motions of unlocking the window to let his best friend in.

“Thanks, it was starting to get chilly out!” Remus chirped, climbing in with practiced ease and plopping himself down on the bed.

“What the fuck,” Virgil answered, still trying to process what was going on.

“I- you- what???” Virgil felt like his brain was about to implode, his gaze flickering from Remus to the window and then back to Remus again.

“Dude, what the hell are you doing here? It’s fucking two am or something like that and you live like, three hours away!”

Remus shrugged, shuffling around so he could sit cross-legged in the middle of the bed.

“My best friend is hurting, why would I not come?”

“It’s the middle of the week, you have classes tomorrow,” Virgil weakly pointed out, starting to feel a little choked up with all the emotions coursing through him at once.

“It’s Thursday, or Friday morning is you wanna be accurate,” Remus easily countered. “I know for a fact that neither you nor I have anything important going on tomorrow and the weekend is class free, so I’m going to crash here until Monday morning since we both have afternoon classes. And no, this is not up to debate. It’s happening, Spider Boy.”

Virgil blinked, staring at him with wide eyes as his heart hammered in his chest.

There was a tingling sensation running through all of his body, electrifying in the best of ways. It felt like fire and ice and water altogether, filling him up and up until-

“I love you,” Virgil blurted out, unable to stop the words from tumbling out any longer.

Remus stared for a second before a dazzling grin took over his face.

“I love you too!” he chirped, grinning so wide Virgil distantly worried if it didn’t hurt to pull at the muscles that much.

“No, uh-” Virgil stuttered, all too aware of how flustered he probably looked at that moment.

He bit his lip, pondering his next course of action. He could still salvage this, just let it go and make Remus believe he meant it in a platonic way and nothing more, burying his feelings in the deepest and darkest corner of his heart. But on the other hand… did he really want to do that?

“I meant in a romantic way, Remus,” he finally admitted, looking everywhere but at his best friend, “I love you as in I want to be your boyfriend and kiss you and stuff.”

Silence fell, filling the room as Virgil kept carefully avoiding Remus’ eyes.

God, he’d ruined everything, didn’t he?

Then he saw a familiar hand reach out and grab a fistful of his hoodie, firmly tugging him forward before he could express his confusion.

Virgil let out a startled yelp, stumbling towards the bed until he found himself face-to-face with his best friend. Still grinning, Remus winked before leaning in, erasing the last few inches separating them as he kissed him square on the lips.

Virgil froze, eyes as wide as saucers as he tried to comprehend whatever the fuck was going on. But before he could do that, Remus pulled back, slowly letting his eyes slide open again as a small, soft smile tugged at the corner of his lips -it was such a strange expression to see on Remus’ face, but Virgil found that he didn’t mind it at all, as long as it was directed at him.

“I know what you meant,” Remus chuckled, pecking Virgil on the lips again for good measure, “and I love you too. Now, are you gonna actually get on the bed and cuddle or do I need to drag you under the covers myself?”

Virgil let out a startled snort, feeling like he was reeling from the last five minutes alone. Still, he dutifully climbed on the bed and flopped down, feeling his exhaustion start to creep back on him again.

Remus grinned, laying down beside Virgil and immediately cuddling as close as humanly possible.

“Comfy?” Virgil teased, moving his hand to gently card it through the other’s hair.

“Hush boyfriend, pillows don’t talk,” Remus grumbled, already halfway gone as he somehow snuggled even closer.

Virgil hummed, leaning down to leave a kiss in Remus’ hair.

Boyfriend, uh? Well, it did have a nice ring to it.

[twinklecupcake]

Charlotteshade

proposes -

Baron Nightshade. It wasn't a typical proposal, nor was it one of those big villainous "I would level this whole damn city for you" kind that some other local supervillains would do.

What happened was, one night while he and Charlotte were drifting off to sleep, Baron surprised her back to wakefulness by saying "We should get married."

It took a few seconds for Charlotte to realize he wasn't just saying nonsense because he was tired.

shops for groceries -

Charlotte. She's the one with a civilian identity, so she's the only one who can actually go out and shop. (Until Nightshade is 'defeated,' of course.)

Nightshade's just gone with the equivalent to instacart. There's a villain with a civilian identity that does deliveries for other villains.

kills the spiders -

Both of them. Neither of them give a fuck about bugs.

comes home drunk at 3am -

Baron's most likely to be drunk, but Charlotte's more likely to slip in at 3 am. Likely because of a patrol, an all-nighter, or because she couldn't get away from her team's base before then.

remembers to feed the fish -

CHARLOTTE.

You think Nightshade can have a pet? He cannot. He'd get so lost in working on a project that he'd forget he had fish at all.

initiates duets -

Charlotte, one hundred percent. She doesn't mean to, she just hums or sings under her breath and then suddenly Nightshade's joining in.

falls asleep first -

Charlotte, by virtue of not having sudden inspiration flashes and spontaneously working through the night.

plans spontaneous trips -

Nightshade: "Charlotte, wake up, we're going to Tokyo."

Charlotte: "WHAT?"

wakes the other up at 3am demanding pancakes -

Baron snaps out of an intense work session by the sound/sensation of his stomach growling, just as Charlotte drags him away from his lab with a "YOU HAVE TO EAT SOMETHING."

sends the other unsolicited nudes -

Neither. Both are way too classy.

brags about knowing karate even though they never made it past yellow belt -

Nightshade, trying to say why Charlotte's brother doesn't scare him.

comes to a complete halt outside bakeries/candy shops -

Charlotte.

blows sarcastic kisses after doing ridiculous shit -

Baron Nightshade totally does that a few times as part of his getaways.

Except no, he actually means it.

killed the guy (also, which hid the body) -

You can't prove anything about the new rose bushes outside Nightshade's home.

wears the least clothing around the house -

Charlotte would probably do that more often because Nightshade cares about safety protocols.

has icky sentimental moments for no apparent reason -

BOTH

[mingishoe]

When you get too close to another member

OT7 x Reader

Kim Namjoon

Namjoon completely trusts you and doesn’t mind you being with the other boys, so when you’ve been out shopping all day with Jin he doesn’t think too much about it. After shopping all day with Jin you came home with armfuls of bags, laughing like two idiots. After helping Jin take all his bags to his room you bid your good-nights and go back to your boyfriends room. You yourself only had like 4 bags so it wasn’t too much to carry. As you walk into the room you see Namjoon laying down scrolling through his phone. You set your bags on the desk and say hello to Namjoon. “Hey baby, how was shopping with Jin Hyung?” Namjoon asked giggling slightly. “It was great, I got some new clothes, but I’m so tired.” You sigh and lay next to Namjoon. “I can imagine, you two were gone for gone for like 6 hours!” He responds laughing.

Kim Seokjin

Jin wasn’t one to get too jealous because he knew he could trust you around the other members, but every once in a while he got a bit annoyed at how much the other members bothered you. You, Jin, and Hoseok were in the practice room and Hoseok kept persisting he taught you a new dance, which you wanted to learn. Jin was sitting on the floor against the mirror as Hoseok was moving your body accordingly when you couldn’t get a specific move down. While watching Hoseok continuously grab your leg Jin finally had enough of it. All of a sudden Jin popped up from his spot and ran towards you and Hoseok. “Jinie what are you doing?” you questioned as he picked you up over his shoulder and ran out of the practice room. “Nothing, you need some rest you look tired” he said quite fast and rushed. You looked up at him and said “Are you sure you’re not just jealous babe?” while giggling. “Maybe…” he responded while kissing you on the cheek.

Min Yoongi

Yoongi probably would get the most jealous out of the group. You’ve been spending a lot of time with Namjoon helping him with his new album coming out. Yoongi walked into Namjoon’s studio to ask him to listen to a song he had just finished producing when he saw you with his headphones on while Namjoon’s head was pressed against yours so he can hear slightly as well. As soon as Yoongi walked in you immediately perked up and started smiling, “Hey baby” you smiled at him to which he just completely ignored you and handed the flash drive to Namjoon telling him to listen to number 7. You furrowed your eyebrows wondering what was wrong with him, but shrugged it off thinking he was frustrated about something not working or sounding right. Later that night you walked into his room wanting to spend time with him since he was busy all day. He was facing the wall with his head under the covers. “Yoongi, baby? Are you asleep?” you asked knowing the answer was probably yes which is why you’re surprised when he says, “What do you want?” “I-I just wanted to come cuddle or watch a movie since you were so busy today.” You respond quite taken aback by his harsh tone. “Why don’t you go cuddle with Namjoon since you two are so close” he spat back, still under the covers. You snorted wondering if he was actually serious, “Yoongi what the fuck are you talking about?” you started walking towards the bed to sit on it. “Why would I want to cuddle and watch a movie with Namjoon when I already have the perfect cuddle buddy and boyfriend, whom I love very much, right here. He slowly took off the covers revealing his signature gummy smile with his arm out waiting for you to cuddle with him. “Love you” is what you heard from him when you snuggled your face into his neck. “Love you more”

Jung Hoseok (slightly smutty but not rly)

Hoseok was a really possessive person, but not so much jealous. For some reason Hoseok HATED for you to be with Jungkook. He was at dance practice and you were extremely bored, so you were playing video games with Jungkook in his room. You two were in a really intense game of Mario Kart so neither of you could hear the door open and slam shut. You and Jungkook were currently have a yelling contest to try and distract the other from wining. “KOOOOOK” you screamed throwing the controller down on the bed after he beat you by .5 a second. Jungkook was sitting in his desk chair while you were sitting on his bed. The door suddenly flew open with an angry Hoseok on the other side, “What the fuck are y’all doing?!” You and Jungkook immediately turned around and looked down like you two were actually doing something bad, which y’all weren’t, and quietly and simply responded, “Mario Kart.” Hoseok looked between the two of you and said, “continue,” you and Jungkook looked at each other, skeptical about what Hoseok was playing at. You and Jungkook both got back in to your positions, him in his desk chair and you sitting Criss-cross on his bed. Hoseok sat on the bed next to you, and to be frank, he was making you 10 times more nervous. You were currently winning and Hoseok’s hand was slowly going up your thigh to rest to the bottom of your jeans. “H-Hoseok, what’re you doing?” You asked trying to not get too distracted. “Nothing baby, keep going.” He responded smirking at you. It was your last lap and you were winning by a hair, Jungkook right behind you. You felt the waist of your pants being tugged on you look down quickly and see Hoseok got the button of your jeans undone and was beginning to stick his hand down your pants into your underwear. “Hobi, stop, you’re gonna make me lose!” You responded getting quite angry. “I’m just trying to remind you my name is the only one you can scream” he responded, too loudly for your liking, making you stop and have Jungkook speed past you.

Park Jimin

Jimin didn’t get so much possessive or jealous but he became insecure that he wasn’t treating you right. Jimin especially didn’t like you being around Yoongi as much as you were. You and Yoongi have similar personality traits and like the same things, so it was natural for you two to be close. Everyone was out recording for song for the new album except Yoongi since he has been having a sore throat for the past few days. You decided to stay and keep Yoongi company by eating popcorn and watching Netflix on the big screen in the living room area. You and Yoongi were sitting on the two seat couch with popcorn in between your crossed legs. It was getting late and the boys still weren’t back yet, and you were starting to get tired. Yoongi had fallen asleep a long time ago leaning against your body. You must’ve fallen asleep as well with your head on Yoongi’s shoulder because when you woke up it was 3am and apparently everyone was back because all the keys were on the key holder. Yoongi moved to where he was leaning the other way so it was easy to get up without waking him up. You go towards your boyfriends room and open the door and see Jimin sleeping peacefully. You change into some shorts and leave the sweater you had on. You get into the bed and expect Jimin to pull his arm around you, but instead he faces the other direction away from you. “Jimin? Baby? Are you okay?” You asked, concerned about his behaviour thinking he might not be feeling well. Jimin doesn’t respond but you can see him nod from where he’s laying. “Jimin, are you sure bec- ohhh…. Is this because Yoongi?” You asked now started to understand what was wrong. Once again, you see him nod from where he was looking. You stay quiet for a minute, not sure what to say until you hear a whisper, barely audible, like maybe you weren’t even supposed to hear it. “Are you sure you still love me?” You snap your heads towards Jimin, not being able to believe what he just said. “Park Jimin, look at me,” you whispered soft enough but hard enough for him to listen to you. Your eyes scanned the soft features of his face, his sparkling eyes, his beautiful plump lips, his soft skin you could touch all day, “Jimin baby, don’t ever believe I don’t love you. I love you more than anything and anybody in the world. You’re my rock, I don’t know what I would do without you.” You told him softly making intense eye contact so he would see how serious you are. “Are- are you sure because Yoon-“ “Jimin, please be quiet.” You cut him off not wanting to hear what he had to say about Yoongi. You looked down at his lips before kissing him softly to prove your point. “I love you, Park Jimin”

Kim Taehyung

Taehyung wasn’t so much jealous because he knew he could trust you and the other members, but he was aware of Jimin’s small crush on you. Every time you were with Jimin, Taehyung turned into a sloth. He was so clingy, not that you minded, but he was always right next to you or holding you somehow. So when Jimin was trying to help you learn how to play the piano, Taehyung wouldn’t leave you alone for 2 seconds. “TaeTae, can you please go sit on the sofa please, Jimin is trying to show me and he can’t with you grabbing my hands every minute.” You looked at Taehyung then to Jimin smiling sympathetically. “Hey, I can help you another time, why don’t you let Tae help you for today?”  You looked back at Taehyung looking at you with wide hopeful eyes, “I- I guess that’ll be okay” you looked at Taehyung and smiled. Taehyung thanked Jimin as he walked out of the room leaving you two together. You turned around shooting Taehyung a glare, “Why did you do that Tae, Jimin was just trying to help me learn.” Taehyung look at you with guilty eyes, “Sorry, I just wanted you to myself for today.” You turned around to hug Taehyung and put your head in his face, “It’s okay baby, we can spend all day together.”

Jeon Jungkook

Jungkook was both possessive and got jealous super easily especially when you and Taehyung were hanging out alone. Sure Taehyung was his best friend and he trusted him more than the other boys, but it was just his instinct to want you all to himself. Jungkook was going to be out all day with one of his friends you didn’t know, so Taehyung asked you if you wanted to go see a movie with him so you won’t be alone. You agreed quickly since you didn’t have anything to do and no one else was around. You and Taehyung honesty no interest in each other but apparently to Jungkook going to the movies with him was the end of the world. You and Taehyung walk into the dorms screaming and laughing at each other. Jungkook was sitting in the kitchen with Jin talking about who knows what, but you didn’t pay too much attention to him besides giving him a small smile while walking to the back room with Taehyung. From the very beginning you knew Jungkook was going to be slightly annoyed about the whole thing, but you didn’t think it was as serious as he thought it was. After awhile of you and Taehyung talking you hear a door slam shut and you immediately knew it was Jungkook. You sigh as you get up thanking Taehyung and telling him goodnight since it was quite late already and you head to Jungkook’s room. You open the door and see Jungkook walking back and forth across the room, eyes closed and hands on his ears. Instead of trying to talk to him, you wait till his back is towards you and go to hug him. He stiffens for a moment then relaxes when he realized it was you. You knew exactly what he was thinking so you just start talking to him, “You know I love you right, not Taehyung.” You can feel him laugh slightly so you continue, “I’m being serious, I’m all yours, and only yours. Forever.” You feel him start to shift around so you loosen your grip from around him so he can turn around to hug you, “I love you.”

[imaginesandideas]

Sorry?

okay it’s so random, but this is a very short (1.8k worth of words) idea that came to me all of sudden, so - I guess it’s my first Diego fic aye? 🎉

WARNINGS: swearing, bits of ANGST and SMUT (underage please scroll down past this)

~~~~~

Living in the centre has its moments. Like shops and bus stops nearby, or great apartments. But there any days when you’d rather kill every single one of your nosy neighbours, noisy people on the street and everyone else who comes in your way.

Why? Cause you’ve had a long, tiring day and nothing went as planned, and all you wanted to do was to have a nice long shower, maybe eat some leftovers and go straight to bed to get some well deserved rest.

But no.

Apparently the universe and someone banging at your door at 3am were having other plans.

So you drag your already warmed up, limb body from the bed, and down the hall slowly opening your reddened eyes and cursing under your breath.

“Good fucking riddance! What kind of a blabbering asshole wakes up people in the middle of the goddamn night for no bloody reason!”

The door swings open and you’re met with the most pitiful countenance one could ever expect.

No, not a box of cute puppies but a whole 6 feet of shameless discourtesy. And missed calls.

“Well, well-“

“I’ll explain!”

“- Diego fucking Hargreeves kneeling at my doorstep at dawn. Unexpected, uninvited-“

“_____ please, quiet love. You’re alarm the neighbours.”

“ - AND, dares to give me instructions on what I am supposed to do.”

Your face is the epitome of resignation and anger, a perfectly sour mix of those two. Normally you’d just let him in, check if he’s injured and go back to bed with his arms wrapped safely around your curled up form. But it’s not one of those days.

“What the fuck do you want...” You speak up quieter now, but with just as much of exhaustion in your voice. Your arms crossed over your chest.

“You?”

“Cut the bullshit Hargreeves.”

“I’m sorry okay? If only you’d know you’d understand.” He’s also visibly tired but you can’t let this one slip out.

“Then tell me!”

“Here?” His eyebrows rise in the darkness of the hall as he gestures around himself.

“Yeah, could be here.”

“Can I at least come in?”

You take a deep breath before nodding and stepping back inside to let him pass. As the door closes you can feel his warm hands roaming up your sides but you shimmy out of his grasp scrunching up your nose.

“You smell.”

“Well yeah, I’ve been locked up for 3 days. That’s why I didn’t come earlier.” Your face twists in shock at his words. He’s visibly broken but he still tries to cover the whole story with guilt so you don’t ask further questions. And you just give up.

It’s way too late to continue any of this and you really just wanted to get those extra hours of sleep before your afternoon shift.

You bring your hands to your face to rub circles around your sleep deprived eyes and sigh loudly.

“Never mind. Clean yourself up, I’m going back to sleep.” You exclaim before heading back in direction of your bedroom. He doesn’t move though and you’re too sleepy to notice.

“Love you.” He calls after you, but you wave him off.

Once your body hits the mattress you’re gone. Your limbs mindlessly tangle themselves in the cold sheets, providing a much needed coverage.

When Diego finally turns the water off you’re long asleep. After grabbing a towel he comes to you, but stops mid-step at the door. Your chest is heaving peacefully, lips are slightly parted.

Somehow, in all of this madness, he found that fragile piece of happiness he wasn’t sure he was deserving of. It was you all along, and it took him so much time to realise that. So much that he was ashamed of himself.

Afraid that maybe his presence is making your life even more difficult. But maybe he’ll be able to repay you one day. One day.

But for now it’s still the night, even if the sun is already brightening up the sky, making it appear both orange and grey.

Throwing on a tshirt he climbs up to your side, curling around your sleeping form protectively. He watches your brows as they knit together in a dreamy haze. How your lashes flutter lightly, how the veins on your neck reappear with every intake of air, how your hair frames your face. Soon street lamps turn off and the sun is about to rise. But both of you breathe steadily together, snuggled, safe.

~~~~~

Some noise almost wakes you up around 10am but your brain has more sleeping on its mind. You can’t really protest, you’ve been up all yesterday and that idiot boyfriend of yours had you woken up in the middle of your blissful, undisturbed rest.

Your head and eyes are still heavy with sleep. Still half awake you keep your eyes closed, only covering your face with your arms for another half an hour. Chest raises, lungs are filling with fresh morning air, only you don’t remember leaving your window open.

Warmth spreads from your fingertips to your feet. Until it’s too much and you squirm, tossing and turning on your back before you abruptly come back to your senses.

“Di-Diego?” You stir sitting up on your elbows before your voice turns into a moan. From beneath your lashes you notice the growing smirk forming on his clearly occupied lips. He’s so pleased with himself he doesn’t even bother to answer. His mouth gently sucks on your clit, tongue swipes across your folds in a sweet yet torturously slow manner.

Classic Diego. But no, you can’t even think about it right now, he’s too good at it. Way too good for your liking. He nips, licks, gently bites on your thighs in the meantime leaving blooming, dark marks. You exhale another loud moan which only fuels his movements. It’s slow and sensual yet intense, enough to strike a match within you. And it burns, spreads from your core to your head and wakes all of your senses. You sit up completely and he pulls your legs up, over his shoulders, devouring deeper. Feasting on you.

“Uhh, Di, what’s gotten into you?” He pulls back with exaggerated pop, grinning.

“You.”

You roll your eyes playfully and in a blink of an eye he’s back at it again, sucking on your sensitive nub with newfound vigour. Your head falls back on your shoulders, eyes follow rolling back into your skull. His hair is soft underneath your fingertips when you reach out to tug at the roots encouragingly and he hums sending vibrations through your body. You’re trembling, losing your breath. Soon enough he notices that and adds fingers to stimulate your folds even more as his lips feverishly continue attack on your clit.

And like a bolt of lightning you unravel in front of his eyes, your shoulders tense just for a moment before relaxing as shocks of pleasure take over you. It feels like you’re about to sink into sheets, pillows and everything else. And it’s too much, your arms almost give out threatening to make you collapse.

Your fingers dig into the hair on his scalp and you gently pull him away, your eyes finally locking for longer than few seconds. Talking seems unnecessary so you shift to bring his lips close to your own. He takes the matter into his own hands yet again and climbs up over you to kiss you deeply. How could possibly not love that perfect mouth of his. You can smell yourself on him just as intensely as the soap on his soft skin. It feels so good it might as well be a dream, but it’s not and you pull away breathless.

“You need to shower.”

“Again?!” He whines in a raised voice and you laugh at how petty he looks like this. Like a disappointed puppy.

“Di, you smell like my cum baby. Don’t want you running on the streets smelling like my pussy.”

Your words cause his pout to turn into a toothy grin.

“Maybe I don’t mind smelling like my favourite pussy.” He whispers with that cheeky smirk of his before leaning down to plant a kiss to your sternum.

Smooth fucker.

“Still doesn’t explain this kind of ‘good morning’.” You lower your voice. “... after how harsh I’ve been last night. I didn’t mean that.”

“I know. But I’ve been a dick several times too, so I guess we’re even. Besides, I wanted to make it up to you. And that prison cell was cold and lonely y’know...” Your laughter fills the room and he smiles even wider, only semi-offended. “I mean it! I missed you.”

“You missed my ass, that’s what it is.”

“I missed those too.” He says squeezing your breasts before biting on your nipple through your shirt making you squeal. “And I love to pleasure my lady.” He adds and you playfully roll your eyes, though you know he’s being genuine.

Since you two got together he made his mission to prove you how incredible you are. In a way, he crowned you his queen. And even if that queen sometimes had to patch him up late at night, he still made sure to pay her back later with everything he could. In words and actions.

You reach up to kiss his cheek as your fingers stroke the skin on his cheek and temple.

“I love you Di. Even if you sneak up on me in the middle of the night like a fucking creep.”

“Love you too babygirl.”

You caress his cheek lovingly and he can’t help but get lost in your eyes over and over again. As if the world did not exist. Only you. Together.

“I also love that perfect mouth of yours.” You tease and he immediately catches it. Two could play that game of constant innuendos.

“Is that so? Well, I love your pretty lips too.”

“Yeah?”

“Uh-hm. Couldn’t stop thinking about them in that cell. And your pretty cu-”

“Oookay, that’s enough for now! First - breakfast.” You forcefully roll him off you before quickly jumping on your feet in direction of the kitchen, fixing your underwear in the process and leaving a chuckling mess of a human behind you. You could get used to having that laugh everyday in your bedroom. And such enjoyable mornings. And-

“I’m not hungry though.��� He yells after once he catches his breath. You peek out the open door and he’s seated in the middle of the mattress, hands behind his head leaning on the headboard, all spread out and comfy.

“Is that so?”

“I mean, I’ve already eaten, so I’d much rather burn some more calories if you’re into exercising before breakfast.” He says wiggling his eyebrows at you. Oh he’s really good at teasing. But you’re in no way complaining. And mornings with Diego could just become your favourite morning routine...

[myaekingheart]

113. The Road Not Taken

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Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth; Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same, And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back. I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference. -The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost

               Kakashi sucked in a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut tight. The mattress shifted yet again, this time taking the majority of the blankets along as well. The clock read 3am. “Alright, Rei, care to tell me what’s going on with you?”

               Rei froze, peeking out at him from amid her fabric coccoon. “What are you talking about?” she asked, voice muffled. “I’m fine!”

               “Rei, you’ve been rocking the bed like we’re on high seas for the past two hours” Kakashi replied. “You’re not fine.”

               She hated how easily he saw through her. Not that she was hiding it very well to begin with. Pursing her lips, she placed a tender hand on his chest and replied, “It’s really not that big of a deal. Don’t worry about it.”

               If she was lucky, her vague response would suffice and that would be the end of that. Unfortunately, her luck was running out.

               Kakashi took her hand in his and shifted it off his chest, sitting up. “Talk to me, Rei” he insisted and there was a look in his eyes that said he meant business. That said he was not letting this go without an explanation. “What’s going on?”

               “God, okay, Kakashi! Fine!” Rei exclaimed, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes. “I’m just kind of stressed out.”

               “What else is new?” Kakashi muttered under his breath. His comment, though quiet, was apparently loud enough for her to feed him a sharp, steely glare. Kakashi raised his hands in defense, muttering an apology she wasn’t sure he meant. “What’s stressing you out? Is it the wedding? Or, uh…something else?” His eyes shifted down to her lower stomach and in that moment, she felt seen: acknowledged but also vulnerable. Her hand flew to her abdomen and her eyes dropped to the floor, her cheeks growing red even in the darkness.

               “I mean, that’s, uh…that’s part of it” she said. “It’s been two weeks. I’m supposed to get my period any day now. Well, actually…I was supposed to get it on Wednesday”

               Kakashi counted the days on his fingers, trying to remember what day it was today. Amid work, they all started to blur together. After a moment, however, he calculated that today was freshly Sunday. She was four days late. “D-do you think that you’re--? I mean, do you think that we were, uh, successful?”

               “I-I don’t know” Rei shook her head. “It’s so hard to know, you know?”

               “I really don’t” Kakashi muttered before she continued.

               “I know there are signs to look for like, you know, a late period” she said. “Nausea, sensitive breasts, shit like that. I just wish there was a more definitive sign. Like at least when you get your period, it’s so obvious but with this? I keep feeling myself second guessing. I’m so unsure and…and scared. What if I’m not? But then, even scarier…what if I am?”

               Kakashi felt his panic surge, but it was a good feeling. The thought of them having been successful, of her sitting here before him carrying their child, made him wild with excitement. “Well have you had any symptoms? Have you been nauseous at all?”

               “Mm, I mean, yeah, a little” Rei replied casually. “But that could just be from stress, or bad chicken, I don’t know.”

               “If it was bad chicken, I’m sure I’d be feeling sick, too” Kakashi countered. Rei hated to admit that he did have a point. She sucked in a sharp breath, pressing her hand slightly harder against her stomach as if that would help quell her anxiety. “Do you think we should see a doctor? Take a pregnancy test?” he asked.

               “No, absolutely not” Rei shook her head. Kakashi blinked, taken aback by how insistent she was. “It’s too soon. I’ve read that you’re supposed to wait until at least a week after your period was supposed to show up. Something about hormone levels or something like that? I don’t know the details, I’m not a scientist. I just know trying it now won’t get us anywhere.”

               “Well, if there’s nothing else we can do, there’s no use worrying about it anymore, right?” Kakashi asked, though he quickly realized that was the wrong answer. Groaning, Rei reached across the bed to slap him lightly on the arm.

               “That doesn’t make me feel any better, Kakashi!” Rei replied. “I’m still going to worry about it regardless. And also, there’s, uh…there’s one other thing.” This last part she said much quieter, much softer and shyer than before. Kakashi leaned forward, his curiosity piquing, a silent encouragement to explain further. “On Friday, when I reported back to Tsunade after work, she, uh…she asked me to meet with her tomorrow morning. Or I guess this morning now.” Here, she motioned sheepishly to the clock. She hated how she already knew she was going to be feeling this in the morning. She should’ve gone to sleep a long time ago, perhaps even taken a mild sleeping pill. Deep down, however, she knew she never would’ve had the guts. In the past two weeks, she hadn’t allowed herself to take even the mildest of pain relievers. She couldn’t stand to run the risk of interfering with their chances to conceive. “I don’t know what she wants to talk with me about, but it can’t be good” Rei continued. “She had this look on her face, I don’t know what it was, but it wasn’t normal. It didn’t feel right. It was like she knows something that I don’t, like she’s planning to just totally blindside me or some shit.”

               “Well, what do you think she wants?” Kakashi asked. “I’m sure it’s nothing serious. Maybe she just wants to check in and make sure you’re doing alright.”

               “You didn’t say anything to her, did you, Kakashi?” Rei said, eyeing him suspiciously. “About, you know.” She motioned toward her stomach with her eyes, pursed her lips, stared at him hard.

               “No, of course not” Kakashi replied. It hurt him a little to think that Rei would expect so little of him. He valued their privacy, he didn’t intend to run around making a spectacle of their plans. He knew the dangers of jumping the gun, especially in situations like this. “I only mentioned that you had been under a lot of stress with the wedding and that I didn’t think switching you to the night shift so soon would be good for you. Why? Do you think that has something to do with it?”

               “I don’t know” Rei sighed. “I don’t want to believe it does, but you never know. I’m terrified that she sees me as weak or needy now. I’m terrified that…I don’t know, that she’s…”

               “That she’s, what?” Kakashi asked, his suspense mounting.

               Rei ran her fingers through her hair, combing her bangs back. Her fingers got tangled in the knots, however, and she quickly became frustrated with her own attempts. “I’m scared that she’s going to fire me” she finally explained.

               Kakashi blinked in disbelief, then laughed softly and shook his head. “I don’t think she’d really do that” he replied. “You’re an amazing kunoichi, Rei. You’re strong and capable and smart. She would have no reason to fire you.”

               “She might if I’m being difficult” Rei replied. Kakashi made a sour expression and Rei snuggled even deeper into her blankets, defeated. “I just have a bad feeling about this, you know? Right here.” She applied pressure to her stomach yet again, her hands growing unsteady.

               Sympathetic, Kakashi rested a hand atop her own and smiled down at her softly. “Are you sure it’s not just the nausea?” he asked.

               “I’m sure, Kakashi” Rei nodded. “I don’t have a good feeling about this.”

               He hated seeing her so distraught, but in the back of his mind, something was beginning to take shape. He leaned back, nodding slowly, before suggesting “Okay. So say you do get fired.” Rei squealed pathetically, offended, terrified. “It might not be the worst thing in the world.”

               “Well, what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Rei exclaimed, finally sitting up. There was chaos and confusion in her eyes.

               “Think about it this way” Kakashi started, cupping her cheek in his hand. “If we are successful, you’re going to have to quit anyway. Maybe this is just a sign that things are falling into place.”

               Rei deliberated on the thought for a moment, unsure how she felt. It was true there was no way she would be able to continue in the ANBU if she was, in fact, pregnant. She had tried to avoid thinking about it this entire time but deep down, that little reality nagged at the back of her mind. A part of her had even thought, perhaps a little too dumbly, that she would have far more time to make this decision. Now the possibility of her future was looming over her head. She was standing firmly at the fork in the road with nowhere left to turn. But if she was fired…well, that would certainly eliminate the confrontation for her. A blessing in disguise. Rei rubbed her stomach and chewed her lower lip. “Do you really think so?” she asked quietly.

               “I guess there’s only one way to find out” Kakashi replied. He caressed her cheek softly before pressing his lips to hers, then slowly guiding her down onto the bed. When he wrapped his arms around her, she settled into his embrace and felt a mild but welcome sense of calm. Nothing was going to stop her from worrying about this, but at least his reassurances were helpful. At least now she knew that whatever may happen, there was a clear-set path. There were options. They would be fine.

               Rei chewed these thoughts over further for breakfast as she made her way to the hokage’s office. She took the long route, procrastinating in the event that she was going to be fired. She knew, realistically, it would be so much better to get it over with but her fear was getting the better of her. She didn’t want to stand for too long in front of the hokage’s desk with Tsunade staring down at her, pitying her. You poor thing, you just weren’t good enough after all. A shiver ran down her spine.

               As she walked, she surveyed the civilians around her. The couples sharing breakfast in the park, the shopkeepers preparing for a grueling day in retail, children laughing and romping through the streets. Her heart warmed at the sight of them, at the mother cooing to her child in their stroller as they went on their morning walk. That could be me, Rei thought to herself and she instinctively rested her hand yet again on her stomach. She thought of the twisting cramps in her gut, the constant lingering nausea, the way she tossed and turned at night. Four days. She was late by four days. That had to amount to something, didn’t it?

               The longer she considered the possibility, the quicker her pace grew. Suddenly she wasn’t so scared anymore. Maybe this was a blessing in disguise. Maybe Kakashi was right. She thought of all the extra time she would have once freed from her duties, of all of the energy she could expend instead on caring for herself and her unborn child. She could study parenting techniques and birthing methods under a tree, spend every Sunday buying little toys and tiny onesies and furniture her and Kakashi would never figure out how to put together on their own. It could be blissful and idyllic. For all she knew, she could be standing on the cusp of utopia.

               By the time she burst into the hokage’s office, she had made more than just peace with the idea. She was looking forward to getting fired. Tsunade paused mid-sip as Rei sauntered inside, a wide grin on her face. Tsunade set her tea down slowly, suspiciously. “I never took you as a morning person, Rei” she commented.

               “Well, I just have a good feeling about this, I guess?” she shrugged, laughing sheepishly.

               “I’m glad” Tsunade nodded, a small, polite smile touching her lips. She reorganized some paperwork on her desk as she added, “Because this is going to be a very important day.”

               A very important day. Rei could hardly restrain her laughter. She envisioned stopping in the hospital on her way home, of sitting on crinkly paper in an exam room while they siphoned blood out of her veins, sending it off to the lab and returning moments later with the happy news of her impending child. She knew it was likely too soon but Kakashi’s words last night had gotten her so excited, she couldn’t help herself. And if it was too early to tell, then that was fine, too. The mere thought of the process was enough to send her heart soaring now. And perhaps if she was lucky, they would be able to detect it early and tell her right away. She would race home full to bursting, tell Kakashi the great news. The beginning of the rest of their lives. A very important day, indeed.

               “Now, as you know” Tsunade began, “we think you’re an incredibly talented and brilliant shinobi.” Rei nodded frantically, urging the hokage to get to her point. How long would it take to tell someone they were fired, anyway? Just say it and be done with it, quick like a band-aid. All the rest was superfluous.

               An estimated five minutes had passed before Rei sensed Tsunade was finally reaching the end of her speech. Rei struggled to focus, to piece together the string of compliments as she moseyed along. This had to be cushion for the impending punch. Buttering Rei up before she dealt the fatal blow. Just say it, just tell me I’m fired, come on, just say the words, Rei thought to herself. And then she felt it coming like lights at the end of a train track, like the way your heart rate picks up right before you’re about to puke.

               “And that is why I’ve decided to make you a captain.”

               Relief swept over Rei before she comprehended what, exactly, Tsunade had just said. She opened her mouth to speak, then paused as the realization dawned on her. “C-Captain…?” was all she could manage to croak out. Her stomach flipped and she clapped her mouth shut, certain she was about to throw up.

               Tsunade smiled and nodded. “You’ve really proved your merit as a shinobi over the past few years” she said. She shuffled through some paperwork, reorganizing files on her desk that Rei quickly recognized were her own mission reports. “Your reports are always written flawlessly—though I’d expect nothing less from the bookshop owner’s daughter. Your teamwork is impeccable and you’ve proven your ability to delegate and lead. I know how grueling some of these missions can be but you always have a way of managing. It’s very impressive—a fact that I hope is not lost on you.”

               “N-No, ma’am…” Rei squeaked. “Not at all.” She fought to remain composed but on the inside, she was screaming. Look at the mess you’ve gotten yourself into now. A part of her wanted to protest, to reach out and beg Tsunade to change her mind. She wasn’t fit for this. Not really. She thought back to Naru, and the mission on which she died. That was Rei’s fault. That was the result of her shitty leadership. She could not be trusted in a position of power like that again, regardless of how many other times she may have proven her worth. This was different. This came with pressure—so much pressure. As a regular ANBU, she could get away with making mistakes. She had a much larger margin of error and for that she was grateful. As a captain, however, there were responsibilities and expectations. There was power and in that, there was potential for catastrophe.

               And yet, in the back of her mind, the career-oriented side of her was slowly creeping to the fore. She had made captain. The only thing greater was becoming the hokage itself. If ever there was a moment that truly proved her worth as a shinobi, it was now.

               Her hands began to shake at her sides as Tsunade awaited a response. “Well?” the hokage asked. “Do you accept?”

               Kakashi wiped the kitchen counters down in an attempt to quell his anxiety. He glanced to the clock—it was nearly 11am. He had expected Rei to be back by now. Maybe something had happened. Maybe she got caught up on the way home and he needed to go rescue her. Maybe she was having an existential crisis or a mental breakdown or, even worse, perhaps the pregnancy she wasn’t even sure she had was already ending in a miscarriage and she was stuck at the hospital scared and sad and alone. Kakashi scrubbed the counters harder and tried to shove those thoughts of his mind. If something had happened, someone would reach out to him about it, wouldn’t they? Send a carrier bird or make a phone call or slip a sinister letter under his door. No, he was sure she was fine. Now he was the one overthinking. If only she would come home soon. He would have to leave for a D-rank mission in a half an hour, but he knew there was no way he would be able to concentrate without first knowing how things went.

               He forced himself to cycle through various random thoughts in an effort to keep himself preoccupied. Thoughts like Pakkun in a pink bowtie and the gum that got stuck to the bottom of his shoe last week. Was it yellow or blue? Or perhaps a mix of both? Or maybe it was a festive wintergreen. The dirt and debris made it hard to tell. Kakashi had ended up concentrating so hard on the minutia, however, that he hardly noticed when the key turned in the lock and in stepped Rei. It wasn’t until Toshio bumped into his leg, barking and leaping excitedly, that Kakashi snapped out of his daze.

               He knew something was wrong in an instant. He expected her to make some quippy remark about how focused he was on cleaning, but instead she trudged straight into the living room as if hypnotized. “Is everything okay?” he asked, drying his hands off as he skirted around the kitchen table. There was a pallor to her face that made him especially nervous. “Well, were you right? Did she fire you?”

               Rei chuckled and shook her head. There was something manic about the chaos in her eyes, the way her hands trembled. “No” she murmured. “No, quite the opposite, actually.”

               “Oh?” Kakashi asked. He set the dish towel aside and sat on the coffee table to face her, taking her hands in his. “Then what happened? Is everything okay?”

               “I-I don’t know…” Rei replied slowly. She was still trying to comprehend that morning’s events. None of it made any sense to her still.

               Kakashi squeezed her hands lightly, growing desperate for answers. If something had happened, he needed to know about it. “Rei, what did she say to you? What’s going on?”

               “I-I made…” Rei started, voice soft and strained. Kakashi urged her to continue. She furrowed her brows, finally looking up to meet his eyes. Her voice was barely a whisper as she finally said it: “I made captain.”

               Much like Rei, it took Kakashi a moment to comprehend what, exactly, she had just said. “C-captain?” he asked, eyes wide. An incredulous little laugh broke past his lips as they began to stretch into a wide, masked grin. “Captain!” he exclaimed, pulling her into a hug. “Rei, I’m so proud of you.” His voice was overflowing with excitement, with admiration, with unadulterated joy. To think: his wife, captain of the ANBU black ops. The girl he had told in their youth that she would never make it. He had tried to so hard to steer her away from this career but time and time again, she had proven her capability as a kunoichi. And now here she was standing before him, captain. He couldn’t have been prouder.

               Before he could say more on the matter, his little alarm sounded notifying him that it was time to go. He apologized profusely as he backed away from her, reluctantly slipping into his vest and tying his headband around his forehead.

               “I’m going to be late, but we’ll celebrate when I get home, okay?” he said, surging forward for one more kiss before departing.

               “Okay…” Rei whispered, watching as he quickly shut the door and disappeared. She pressed her hand to her stomach, rubbing her waistline as she chewed her lower lip. “Captain…” she repeated. “Rei Natsuki, the captain.” The words didn’t feel real in her mouth. She paced the living room aimlessly before a strong cramp seized her stomach and she turned toward the bathroom. Toshio followed her dutifully, nosing the door open as she slid her pants off and sat on the toilet. When she looked down, all she saw was blood. “Dammit…” she muttered. She should’ve known it was too good to be true, that her hopes were bound to be dashed. Sensing her current state, Toshio turned and exited the bathroom. Rei kicked her underwear off and sucked in a deep breath, combing her bangs back out of her face. She bit her lower lip hard as she fought tears. She wasn’t even sure why she was crying. It wasn’t like she ever received a positive test result. Sure, she idled outside the hospital on her way home but now it was out of fear, of apprehension, rather than excitement. Nothing was going at all the way she had expected. She felt aimless and terrified. Perhaps Kakashi was a little too correct in his words from the previous night. Things were falling into place, but not at all in the direction she had hoped.

               Toshio lumbered back inside, a clean pair of underwear hanging out of his mouth. He dropped them at Rei’s feet and sat down before her, panting happily with his tongue hanging out of the side of his mouth. A small smile touched Rei’s lips for only a moment as she picked them up and slid them up her calves. She had no idea where he learned to do that but she was grateful all the same. As he sat in front of her then, kind brown eyes and spotted tongue, she felt something within her break. All at once, the dam within her crumbled and she broke down in monstrous tears. She wrapped her arms around her vacant stomach, turned her face away from the bathroom mirror. This was so pathetic. Really, there was nothing for her to cry about. She had let her hopes get far too high for something that wasn’t even guaranteed. The chances of getting pregnant on the first try were slim anyway. She knew this. And still, statistics didn’t make the disappointment sting any less. But perhaps this really was for the best. Perhaps things were better this way. The timing was off. The chances were slim. Toshio frowned and scooted nearer, resting his heavy head on Rei’s lap as a sign of comfort. Even if this was the way things were meant to be, that didn’t mean she wasn’t allowed to mourn her hope. Rei leaned forward and pressed her forehead to Toshio’s head, hugging him close as she let herself completely break down.

[writinginstardust]

An Unexpected Christmas

Pairing: Alex Claremont-Diaz x reader

Prompt(s):  my family invites you to join our holiday meal as an obvious setup and i’m so sorry

Warnings: pretty sure there’s some swearing

A/N: Thanks to @writingbychelle for requesting this prompt! As you can tell by the word count, I had a lot of fun with this one and got very carried away.

Word Count: 3484

*

The White House Christmas party could either be the most entertaining or dullest event of the year and it was in full swing right now. Fortunately this year it was erring on the side of entertaining, mostly due to the increased presence of people my own age. The White House trio in particular. They were respectable - you had to be - but by god were they good at livening up a bunch of boring politicians. The ones that needed a little livening anyway. Some, I knew, could do it on their own.

Alex, June, and Nora. I envied them sometimes. They always had each other and they positively shone in the spotlight, unlike me. I tended to slide into the background alone and for the most part I didn’t mind. I’d been dragged to these things for half my life, one or both of my parents having held high offices since Obama was first elected, and for most of those years there’d been no one my own age I’d really managed to make friends with. I’d always been alone at parties and desperately tried to hide from anyone who wanted to engage in any sort of political discussion or ask about my future. Which was just about everyone. 

I knew my parents ambitions for me, everyone did. And they all would have assumed whether my parents had said a thing or not. But that was never what I wanted. It came as quite a shock when word got out that I was going to Georgetown to study art with a minor in creative writing. It’s funny. Maybe if I’d followed in my parents’ footsteps I’d actually be friends with Alex and not alone at this party.

It’s not as though I never spoke to any of them, we saw each other constantly at state functions where there generally weren’t many other young people to talk to since we were usually the only ones living in DC, but I knew I wasn’t exactly their first port of call for entertainment. They had each other and I had a 10 year old coping mechanism. And that was fine. It was all very fine. I was used to it. I just kind of wished things were different.

“(Y/N)!” June’s voice drew my attention and she beckoned me over to where she was talking to Nora and Alex. 

“Hey,” I offered them all a smile when I reached them, noticing that June and Nora both looked way too pleased and Alex ever so slightly uncomfortable. Huh, that was odd.

“Enjoying the party?”

“It’s one of the better ones I’ve been to. Half the interns are already drunk as are the Attorney General and Defence Secretary and I heard someone mention karaoke so hopefully it will be spectacular.”

“Karaoke?” Nora asked in surprise.

“Yep. Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“I have a lot of questions.”

“And I have a lot I could tell you.”

“Not right now though.” June interrupted. Alex, surprisingly, hadn’t said anything yet. That was weird. 

“You’re right. Ask her then,” Nora prompted. I looked back at June expectantly.

“Mom heard that you’re not going away with your parents for Christmas?”

“Unfortunately not. They get to enjoy the Bahamas and I’m stuck slaving over an assignment.” Normally I wouldn’t mind but my art professor had been in a rather cruel mood and set the class a 10,000 word paper and a large scale practical project right before Christmas break. All because someone laughed when he tripped on the way into class.

“Well, she wants to invite you to spend Christmas with us instead so you’re not all on your own. Unless you already made other plans, that is.”

“No...I, uh, had nothing planned.” Surprised at the invitation, the words were out of my mouth before I could really consider their consequences.

“So you’ll come? Mom is pretty insistent so if you’re saying no, I’m making you tell her yourself.” Well, looked like I was spending Christmas at the White House then. It’s difficult to say no to a president, especially when that president is Ellen Claremont.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Brilliant!” June was positively gleeful. “I’ll go tell mom.” She spun on her heel and took off to the other side of the room, Nora trailing behind her. That left me alone with Alex who was still uncharacteristically quiet.

“Are you alright?” I asked when the silence started getting awkward. “You haven’t said a word.”

“I am so so sorry.”

“Why?”

“Why on Earth did you say yes?” He asked rather than answering my question. “You must have realised what that was.” 

And I had. It was a very obvious and deliberate attempt at a set-up. Just about everyone apparently thought that we’d be great for each other and I knew everyone badgered Alex about it all the time. Maybe that’s one of the reasons we’d never really managed to become proper friends. I didn’t have it so bad. I was an only child and most of the people I really cared to talk to knew very little about this part of my life. There was the odd comment from my parents but they knew by now that I wouldn’t just go along with what they planned or thought best for me. I’d overheard enough to know Alex wasn’t so lucky.

“They caught me off-guard. It’s not ideal, I know, but it’s better than the Christmas I was in for otherwise.”

“Sorry. I didn’t think about that. It’s going to be unbelievably awkward you know?”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

“How can it not be?”

“Just try to ignore it all.” I sighed. “Look, I know it will still be a bit awkward no matter what we do-”

“A bit? Do you realise how relentless my family are?”

“I know. But maybe we should just actually talk. Get to know each other a bit. It might make it more bearable.”

“Or less.”

“Alex, like it or not, we’re stuck in this situation now, we might as well make the best of it. Maybe this will give us a chance to actually become friends.”

“Friends, huh?”

“Yeah. I mean, if everyone thinks we should get together then there must be something compatible about us. We could try and be friends rather than having whatever this is.”

He knew what ‘this’ I was referring to. Whatever was between us. Neither of us really knew what it was or what to call it. We weren’t friends. It wasn’t some weird sexual tension. We were more than mere acquaintances too. A couple of young people in the same position who talked and occasionally got drunk together but had no significant attachment to each other (well…) was about the closest description. Whatever ‘this’ was, I didn’t want it.

“Okay. Let’s see how this goes.”

*

It went pretty well in the end. 

I woke early on Christmas morning, hours before I needed to think about leaving for the White House, I always did. Trying to sleep again would be futile so I rolled out of bed and went to make myself pancakes, shooting off a quick message to Alex to check the time and what I should wear on the way. It was a valid question. Some people dressed up, some didn’t leave their pyjamas, I didn’t want to be over or underdressed. I put the kettle on and felt my phone buzz in my pocket. It was Alex. I had a text from him timestamped at 3am and it was 7am now. Did he sleep at all?

It was still weird - getting texts from Alex. He’d taken my suggestion of friends to heart and had been texting me about all sorts at all hours of the day and night for the past week. It was odd, but nice. And I - and by extension, everyone - was right. We had a lot in common. 

I checked his text.

Alexander the not-so-great: I’m already up so come by whenever. Dinner at 1 though so before then.

Me: Okay. Making pancakes now, see you in a couple of hours?

Alexander the not-so-great: ...If I come over, can I have pancakes?

Me: Sure.

I froze. Had I seriously just invited him over for breakfast? I read the text again. Yes. Yes, I had. Okay. This wasn’t weird at all. Too late to do anything about it now though. 

10 minutes later I heard a car pulling up outside. That would be him.

“Merry Christmas!” I smiled as I opened the door for him, trying to look as if I wasn’t freaking out a bit at this turn of events.

“Hey,” he smiled back and I swear that smile didn’t used to do the things it was doing to me now.

“Come in, food is nearly ready.” I stepped back so he and one of his security team could come inside. I couldn’t help feeling bad for the woman that was stuck coming out here with him so early in the morning.

Breakfast turned out not to be as awkward as I’d anticipated, in fact it was quite nice. I hadn’t actually seen Alex since the Christmas party last week but thankfully we were getting on as well in person as we had been over text. Better, even.

“Okay, I need to go take a shower,” I said when we’d finished washing up our plates. “Wi-Fi password is on the router in the living room through there if you want it. Just make yourself at home while I get ready.” We wandered out into the hall and I started up the stairs before pausing and adding. “Guest bathroom is at the end of the hall upstairs and the door next to it is the guest room, you can use anything you need in there. There’s towels and stuff if you need a shower or anything.”

“Is this your way of telling me I stink?” He asked with a teasing smile.

“No worse than usual.” I grinned back and finished climbing the stairs, Alex’s laughter following me until my bedroom door shut between us.

I tried to get ready quickly, feeling as though I was keeping him waiting somehow even though he’d said there was no rush. I managed to shower in record time but that was all I got done quickly. Everything seemed to have gone missing, my hairbrush, moisturiser, toothbrush - which I could have sworn I left charging on my desk, and half my clothes. Maybe I should have tidied my room a bit over the past few weeks, but to be fair, I had a lot of work to do and keeping my things tidy wasn’t much of a priority.

Kicking a pile of clothes to the side, I freed my underwear draw and managed to find a clean set to wear. That was something at least. I looked in my wardrobe, at what was the only selection of clothes I knew for sure were clean, and tried to find an outfit in there somewhere. There was a cute dress or two, but I still wasn’t sure if that was too formal, and a few paint covered t-shirts, some jeans, all my party clothes, and a few shirts. I could probably find something that would work but I needed to check with Alex first. I tried texting him but he didn’t answer. Of course the one time I needed a reply, he was ignoring his phone.

With a huff, I threw on my bathrobe and went downstairs to find him. He wasn’t in the living room or the kitchen and his security was still here so he hadn’t left. I asked her if she knew where he was and she told me he’d gone to the bathroom. Thanking her, I padded back upstairs to intercept him on his way out. That turned out to be a mistake. 

The bathroom door opened and Alex stepped out. Apparently he’d taken me up on my offer of the shower and I was having a hard time deciding if I was happy about that or not. On the one hand, the sight of him still slightly damp with water dripping from his hair and a towel slung low on his hips was fucking glorious. On the other, the sight of him like that was probably going to kill me.

I could feel my cheeks burning as I tried and failed to keep my eyes on his face and not his annoyingly toned abs but I could tell he noticed as he smirked at me. Asshole.

“Can I do something for you?” Yeah. He could take the fucking towel off. I swallowed those words that got alarmingly close to spilling out of my mouth.

“Yeah. I wanted to ask what I should wear. I’m a bit low on options but I don’t want to be overdressed or anything.”

“What have you got?” And I definitely shouldn’t have, especially not now, but I gestured for him to come into my room and take a look.

“Sorry about the mess. It’s not usually like this,” I apologised when I saw how taken aback he looked. I pointed at my open wardrobe. “That’s the only stuff I know for sure is clean.” He considered for a moment before pulling out one of the slightly more casual party dresses along with a cardigan.

“This should be fine. Don’t bother with heels or anything though, just put some sneakers with it.”

“Thanks.” I took the clothes from him and shooed him away. “Go away now. I can’t get dressed with you in here.”

“You sure?” He winked and I smacked his arm, rolling my eyes.

“If I’d have known this was what being your friend entailed, I never would have suggested it.”

“That hurts.”

“You’ll live. Now go get dressed.”

“Sure you want me to?” He winked at me again and in all honesty, I wasn’t sure but I needed him to if I was going to stay sane.

“Oh my god, just go.” He grinned at me one last time before I shut the door on him and let out a deep breath. Alex Claremont-Diaz was going to be the absolute death of me.

*

We got to the White House just before nine and the rest of the family were up and waiting in the living room. And that was something interesting to walk into. Never in my life did I think I’d see President Ellen Claremont half asleep on the floor in her pyjamas. There were some very meaningful looks aimed our way when we walked in together and I could tell we were both regretting turning up at the same time. It was too late to do anything about it though.

“So that’s where you disappeared off to this morning,” June said with a smirk.

“Well I had to do something while I waited for you all to wake up.” There were raised eyebrows at that and Alex froze for a moment as he realised how that might have sounded. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

No one bothered to respond to that and just shifted to make space on the floor by the tree for us, failing to repress their smirks when they basically forced us to sit together. Alex really hadn’t been exaggerating about how bad his family was with this.

I was pleasantly surprised to find that everyone had got me gifts to, and good ones. They apparently knew me better than I’d thought. Thankfully I’d managed to find something for everyone too, though I doubted my gifts were quite as good. But it’s the thought that counts after all.

Soon after the presents were done everyone headed back to their rooms to get dressed, once again leaving Alex and I alone. I didn’t miss the wink June threw our way as she left and pointedly shut the door behind her. I kind of wanted to die.

“I am definitely starting to understand why you seemed so horrified by this idea,” I groaned when the door clicked shut.

“I did warn you.”

“Yeah, after I’d already agreed.”

“You could have just said there was a change of plan.”

“You try telling your mother that.”

“...Okay, you have a point.” I sighed and laid down on the rug. 

“It could be worse. At least they’re not saying anything embarrassing yet.”

“Give them time.”

“That sounds ominous.”

“With good reason. I hope you’re ready for this.” And, like a fool, I thought I was.

Christmas lunch passed agonisingly slowly with meaningful glances thrown both my way and Alex’s from Zahra and every member of the family. The food was great though and it was still enjoyable when I was able to ignore the looks and immerse myself in the conversation but even that didn’t last long. Leo just had to ask about both our love lives. Alex managed to field most of the questions and more than once I saw him shoot his family murderous looks which made them drop it for a few minutes. I appreciated the attempts.

Drinking and ridiculous games followed for the rest of the day and I lost track of time, enjoying everyone’s company even if they were still giving us looks and comments. I found myself minding less and less the longer I was there though. It sure wouldn’t be the worst thing to get together with Alex and honestly the idea was becoming very appealing. 

11pm rolled around. Eyes started drooping, conversations died down, and murmurs about heading to bed started up. I was half asleep myself, leaning on Alex’s shoulder and not really caring anymore what anyone might think, and dreading the prospect of getting up and making my way home. I’d gotten a lift with Alex from my house and I was regretting it now. Either I’d have to trouble someone for a lift home or walk. Neither option seemed great but I’d have to pick soon. The longer I stayed there, the harder it was getting to move.

Ellen and Leo stood and announced they were heading to bed and I decided that probably meant I should leave too, no matter how much I didn’t want to. I shifted and started to get up but Ellen stopped me.

“(Y/N), honey, it’s late, you can stay here tonight.” There was only the faintest smirk on her face now so I knew the offer was more out of care than the family’s attempt to set Alex and I up.

“Oh, uh, thanks.” She smiled and left, Leo following with Zahra close behind. I hesitated for another few moments. I probably shouldn’t stay but the option was incredibly tempting.

“You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,” Alex said quietly. I looked over at him and he was smiling slightly, the look on his face softer than any I’d ever seen before. “But I’d like you to.” There was something strangely vulnerable in his voice and I found myself agreeing to stay without thinking.

“Okay.” He grinned and stood up, much more himself now.

“I’ll show you to a guest room.” We both pretended not to notice the smirks on both Oscar and June’s faces as we left. I didn’t have the energy left for conversation so we walked through the residence in comfortable silence until we finally arrived at a door that looked just like every other. 

“Well, goodnight I guess.” Alex finally spoke again. “I hope today wasn’t too awful.”

“It was actually really nice.” I smiled sleepily at him.

“Even with all...that?” He gestured vaguely to indicate his family.

“It wasn’t so bad.” I mean, it totally was but being with Alex had been worth it.

“I’m glad. It was nice having you here.” I tried to ignore the way my heart swooped at that but it was difficult in my tired state. “I’m just along the hall in the east bedroom if you need anything and I basically never sleep so don’t worry about disturbing me.”

“Thanks Alex. And thanks for today.”

“You’re welcome. Goodnight.” And then, quite unexpectedly - though maybe if I’d been paying more attention it would have been less of a surprise, he leaned in and kissed me. Just lightly, his lips soft and warm against my own for a few brief moments before he pulled away with a soft smile. “Sleep well, (Y/N).”

He turned and headed to bed himself, leaving me standing dumbly in the hall, surprise rooting me to the spot. After a few seconds spent staring after him I finally shook myself out of it, turning the doorknob and slipping inside the guest room. My whole body felt warm and molten and I collapsed on the bed, mind swirling with thoughts of Alex. Today hadn’t been what I expected but it was better than I dreamed. Maybe being set up wasn’t so bad after all.

*

Tag Lists: (send an ask if you want to be added!)

Everything: @wonderfilledness @writingbychelle @ad-astraaaa @moderngenius94

[taywitchcrafts]

Exception

Requested by: @kingpattillo Prompt: “I don't like people, but you’re an exception” Pairing: Michael Jones/Gavin Free Word Count: 2180 A/N: I’m sorry this is sorta angsty I apparently don’t know how to write anything without angst shjdg it does end fluffy though, promise!! ********** The day they met, Michael decided he hated Gavin. He was loud, obnoxious and clumsy as all hell. Michael wasn't entirely sure Gavin didn't push his buttons on purpose. He seemed like the kind of asshole to do that. The bird noises, the stupid British slang words that made no sense, the way he screeched constantly and made his voice high pitched. Michael just wanted to stick a thumb through his fucking eye and tell him to shut it. But he was useful to the crew, so he tolerated him. Mostly. He wasn't exactly known for being mild-tempered. The way he saw it, the few black eyes he gave him were a warning, and the Brit would eventually get the message and leave him alone. Except, he never did.

********** "Michael" Oh, for fuck's sake. Why did he have to say Michael's name like that? "What do you want, Gavin." "Will you play a game with me?" "Why would I do that?" "Because I'm bored?" "But I'm not, and I'm already playing a game." He gestured to the switch in his hand, the soft cheerful music of his paused Pokemon game filling the momentary silence. "But you could be playing a game with me instead!" "Again, why would I want to do that?" "Because we're friends." "Where the fuck did you get that idea!" "We're not friends?" Gavin's tone was shocked and sad, the look on his face was like he'd just watched Michael kick a puppy- or like he was the puppy Michael had kicked- and Michael wanted to kick himself for feeling bad. He hated Gavin, why did seeing him sad get to him?? He pushed it aside. "No, Gavin. You never noticed that I hate you? Are you seriously that fucking stupid?!" His voice was raised a little, allowing his anger to squash his other feelings as he so often did. It was better to be angry than to be weak, he told himself. He'd never let himself be weak again. "Why don't you like me?" "I don't like people in general, Gavin. And you're the worst of all of them." "...Michael" Jesus, the one time he said it right and he sounded like he was 3 seconds from crying while doing it. "What, Gavin?" He turned back to look at him, but he was already walking away. Thank God, he thought. At least I don't have to deal with him crying. But he couldn't concentrate anymore, a pang of unfamiliar guilt gnawing at him. Fucking Gavin. ********** The heist going wrong wasn't his fault, not really. Sometimes shit just goes wrong. None of the others had known the motion detector was there either. But Gavin was so used to it being his fault, to being shouted at and blamed (usually by Michael), that when nobody blamed him for things he started to do it himself. They all tried their best to reassure the Brit, all attempts unsuccessful. Michael was the only one who didn't try. He didn't want to be cruel- Gavin had actually been super helpful on the heist-but he still didn't like him, and wasn't thrilled at the idea of comforting him. That is, until he got up at about 3am to get a glass of water, and saw a light on in Gavin's room. He poked his head around the door and saw the man huddled in a corner, a blanket around his shoulders. Michael hadn't really seen Gavin since the heist, which was three days before, but it looked like he hadn't slept at all. Gavin didn't even notice him, too caught up in worrying about what went wrong and self-blame. It wasn't until 5 minutes later when Michael appeared in front of him, a hot cup of tea in his hands, that Gavin broke out of his trance-like state. "Michael?" He knelt in front of him, handing him the tea. "I still don't like you, but you gotta stop blaming yourself. Shit happens. Things go wrong. Snap the fuck out of it. We need you." It wasn't exactly nice, but Gavin understood that he was trying. "...Thanks." "Get some sleep." And he was gone. Gavin didn't know when he'd learned how he liked his tea, but paired with the semi-reassuring words he'd just received, it settled him enough to finally fall asleep. He didn't even get to his bed, and Jack found him the next morning passed out in the corner of his room, an empty mug next to his feet. ********** Geoff had tried so hard to avoid pairing Gavin and Michael up, he knew they'd be a great team if they could work past their issues, but he also knew that Michael was far too stubborn for that. Gavin's personality seemed hand designed to piss Michael off, and nobody would dream of asking him to change. Michael would simply have to adapt, however long it took. But this heist needed them together. Gavin was, essentially, the bait. They knew if he fucked something up, he'd distract anyone on the rest of the Crew's scent. And if that didn't work-or if Gavin miraculously didn't screw up- Michael had a fair amount of explosives in his armoury. Michael made no attempt to mask his irritation at the pairing. Sure, the crew needed Gavin, but Michael didn't want to work with him. Jeremy or Ryan would also be down to fuck shit up, and they could at least tolerate Gavin. Goddamn it. ********** "What if," Oh, this will be good Michael thinks, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "Your toenails could grow to be as long as your legs?" "Are you fucking kidding me?" "What?" "We're in the middle of a heist! Is that seriously what you're thinking about right now?" "I'm bored! We've been here for like an hour. When will the others be ready?" "When they're ready. The UD isn't a fucking easy target. Now shut up so we ca-" Just then, they both received a text from Geoff. "Alright, it's time. You remember the plan?" "Yeah, I'm tripping the alarms, right?" Michael nods. "I'll be right behind you, promise." Gavin smiled at him- why was that so distracting??- before smashing the glass of the bank doors. Well, that's one way to trip the alarms. They weren't in their normal disguises, so nobody would question why members of the FAHC were being so sloppy, and they needed the cops there as soon as possible. Maybe Gavin thought this through? Not too likely. "How are we gonna get into the vault?" Michael smiled, waving some dynamite he pulled out of his bag. "Won't that damage the money?" "The money isn't the goal, idiot. We just need them to think it is." Sirens had begun to sound in the distance just as the door blew, and they made quick work of grabbing what looked like a reasonable amount of money before making their way back to the foyer. They were well and truly surrounded, but this wasn't even half of the cops in the city. Definitely not enough to keep the others from being caught. "Dude, get back!" Michael shouted as he threw one of his grenades into the foyer. This served the double purpose of keeping the cops outside of the building- they wouldn't enter with the knowledge that they had explosives- and ensuring that plenty of backup would be called. What he hadn't accounted for was Gavin being a little too slow, and it wasn't until he heard the Brits pained scream that he realised he'd been caught in the blast. "GAVIN!" He screamed, code names and hidden identities completely forgotten. He hurried to the younger man's side, way more panicked than someone who hates him should be. "I'm okay Michael. Just... Just caught my arm a little." He was struggling to breathe through the pain, and Michael was at a loss at what to do. Upon further inspection, the injury wasn't as bad as he'd feared. Rather than the explosion catching Gavin directly, it seemed that his arm had been burned. It was still pretty terrible, and the smell of burning flesh was almost overwhelming, but Michael couldn't bring himself to care about anything but getting Gavin to safety. "Just hold on a minute, Gav. I'm gonna call Jack." Their escape plan had hinged on Gavin being able to drive, which obviously wouldn't happen now. After a short conversation, the UD heist was called off, and the Crew on their way. Michael still hadn't stopped apologising when they arrived, even though Gavin had passed out from the pain. None of them had ever seen him like this. ********** Gavin spent the next 3 weeks in bed, much of it against his own will. The young man had always had too much energy, and bed rest ironically left him restless. This was the usual for Gavin when he was injured. The real surprise came from Michael, who spent those weeks at the end of Gavin's bed, even when he slept. He brought him food and helped him eat, he dressed his wounds, he played games with Gavin when he got bored. They all knew that this was guilt, that Michael was letting the feeling that Gavin was hurt because he didn't do good enough eat away at him, and none of them could convince him otherwise. It wasn't until the fourth week, when he sat outside the bathroom while Gavin was showering and got shouted at to "just bugger off, Michael!" that he left his side. After that incident, he was nicer to Gavin. It seemed a mixture of guilt and proximity had led to, at the very least, some form of respect between the two. ********** They grew closer as time passed, though it wasn't particularly obvious. When Michael shouted at Gavin, it wasn't mean or borne from hatred anymore. He was still angry at Gavin, he would probably never stop being irritated by him, but he also saw the hilarity of Gavin's clumsy foolishness, and they would be laughing with each other 5 minutes later. Michael would play games with Gavin if he was asked, and launching himself across the table to wrestle with him became a rarer, much more playful occurrence. They still didn't work together a lot, not many heists called for a pairing quite as dangerously explosive as theirs, and Michael would still fuck Gavin over if doing so wouldn't seriously harm him or the heist. Their dynamic was the same in many ways, but where there was anger and hatred before, a friendship had begun to form. Only Michael and Gavin really knew it was more than that. ********** Was Michael really about to do this? Had their relationship even gotten this far yet? They'd kissed a few times, and Gavin had fallen asleep on his shoulder more than once. This was... Well, it was something a boyfriend would do and they hadn't decided whether that's what they were just yet. But he knew Gavin wouldn't mind. He knocked softly. "Michael? What's wrong?" "Just uh... nothing it's stu-" "Michael..." He sounded concerned as he took Michael's face into his hands. His eyes were a little red, and he looked like he hadn't slept much in a while. "Tell me." "I just had a nightmare... didn't wanna be alone" He mumbled, a little embarrassed. Michael hated showing his softer side, hated being vulnerable. Sometimes it was necessary, he knew that, but that never made it any better. "The Liberty decoy job again?" "Yeah..." Gavin pulled him through the door and onto the bed, kissing him softly. "You don't have to worry about that anymore, okay? I'm here and I'm not hurt. Promise." "Can I stay tonight?" "You can stay every night, I like having you around." Michael smiled, reaching down to take Gavin's hand in his. "Hey, Gav?" "Yeah?" This was definitely too much too soon, but he'd realised months ago and he had to tell him or he didn't think he'd ever work up the courage. No time like the present, right? "I love you." A cheeky grin spread across Gavin's face. "Really? I thought you didn't like people." His tone was mocking, but Michael knew he was just doing his thing, taking every opportunity he had to be a little shit. "I don't like people. But you're an exception." There was a few seconds of silence, and Gavin looked down at their hands, gently rubbing his thumb over Michael's knuckles. "I love you too, Michael." He looked back up, placing a gentle, loving kiss on Michael's lips before pressing their foreheads together. "I'm glad you don't hate me anymore" He whispered, after a few minutes of silence. "Me too." The pair would eventually fall asleep- as close as they could possibly be- but for now they were both content to sit like this, listening to the other breathe softly and hoping that they got to do this for the rest of their lives. For the first time in his life, Michael was glad he'd had a nightmare that night. Being this close to Gavin made it more than worth it.

[captcas]

Worth Fighting For (6/?)

WORTH FIGHTING FOR by capthamm

Killian “Hook” Jones is a dominate up and comer in the UFC while Emma “The Savior” Swan’s career was cut short. When Hook’s manager moves up and the office brings in UFC’s youngest legend to keep him in check, will either of them be able to handle it?

read on ao3 // tumblr: ch 1/ ch 2 / ch 3 / ch 4 / ch 5

[CHAPTER 6/?]

“Humbert, huh? Didn’t peg him as your type, Swan.” When Emma called to move today’s check-in meeting with Regina to tomorrow afternoon, he pried as to why. He was foolish to assume it had something to do with him.

Why would it? It’s not like she kissed the living daylights out of him on Friday.

One day he’ll stop chasing this woman.

“Yeah, well he asked if I wanted dinner and I figured why not.” She’s deflecting, and he can sense she didn’t plan on telling him this. “That’s none of your business anyway. Can you move the meeting or not?”

“As you wish, Swan.” He hangs up after agreeing to her new meeting. Not wanting to hear anymore about her date.

He had hoped the kiss meant something, that he meant something.

Seems like foolish is the word of the day.

He calls up Will and Robin and they agree to meet him at the pub for a drink. He doesn’t care if it’s a Monday, the radio silence after their kiss followed by this phone call warrants at least one glass of rum. Killian spent the entirety of the weekend trying to run into her again. He worked out more than he has in months, feigning the need to train but really just hoping to catch a glimpse of her at the gym. She never showed. He sits at the bar waiting for his friends and replays Friday night in his head for what must be the hundredth time.

He knew nothing good would come from challenging her, or kissing her, but he couldn’t help himself. It’s like he loses all sense of balance around her, his entire world tilting on its already unstable axis. He pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to numb the migraine that’s been pounding in his head since she kissed him.

He thought his life may actually be looking up for a change. Foolish.

Robin and Will walk through the door as he polishes off his second glass. The looks on their faces mirror one another and he knows they’re going to make him talk. “Not tonight, mates. Just drink.”

He waves for the bartender to bring over their drinks as Robin speaks up, “We are not playing that game, Killian. You don’t call us on a Monday for ‘just drinks’ if there’s nothing to talk about.”

Sometimes Killian forgets Robin isn’t really his father.  

“Aye, out wit’ it, mate. Who’s the lass?” Will wiggles his eyebrows clearly amused by whatever Robin told him. “I haven’t seen ya like this since–” Robin elbows him in the side. “Oi, mate what was that for?”

Robin shoots Will an icy glare before turning back to Killian, “Come on, what happened?”

Killian sighs, knowing there's no way around this, “Emma and I shared a kiss.”

Robin chokes on his whiskey (again) and Will whoops and slaps his back. “Aye, mate! Thatta boy! What ya looking so down in th’ dumps fer then?”

Robin rolls his eyes before turning to Killian warily, “What happened after?”

Killian shakes Will’s hand off his shoulder, and finishes his glass of rum. He responds through the burn of the liquid coating his throat, “She moved our meeting with Regina because she has a date,” he holds a finger up to Will who looks ready to order a round of celebratory shots, “with Humbert.”

Robin hisses and Will lets out a low whistle, “Aye, that’s rough, mate. Next round on Rob.” Robin goes to argue but it falls short to Will shouting their order. In an unspoken agreement, they spend the rest of the night talking about anything but Emma Swan.

This is why he called them, enough humor and good sense to help him ignore everything that’s weighed him down for the past three days.  It works until he finds himself alone in his room wide awake at 2am. Finding the events of Friday night flooding his thoughts once again.

Where’d he go wrong?

He couldn’t have “gone wrong”; she kissed him.

He grabs his phone, accepting his fate of yet another sleepless night. He mindlessly scrolls through Twitter begging for anything to take his mind off the woman who won’t leave his thoughts. Before he knows it, the glow of the clock threatens 3am and he feels his body gives in where his mind would not. The last thing he hears is the slight ding of what is probably a Facebook notification before drifting off to sleep.

. . .

This date is probably the worst idea Emma’s ever had— besides maybe kissing Killian Jones— jury’s still out on that one.

It’s not that the date is bad, it’s actually damn good . The food is fantastic, Graham is a complete gentleman, and the conversation is easy. It feels like she’s known him her whole life.

So why does it all feel so wrong?

She has no idea until they’re standing on the sidewalk and Graham is chatting about some ancient bottle of whiskey he has back at his place and she tries to smile at him in that specific way she wants to reserve for Killian.

Killian.

She suddenly understands why this entire night has felt off. That kiss with Killian meant more to her than she ever wanted it to– she had really hoped it would get him out of her system, not engrain him deeper into it. She knows it’ll more than likely take some time, and they should really know more about each other than their fight records, but she finds herself oddly willing to put in some work.

Dammit, Killian Jones.

She smiles politely before thanking Graham for the food and feigning exhaustion despite the fact that she’ll be lucky to catch even a wink of sleep tonight. She’s positive he expected their night to continue, but she’s not in the business of leading men on. Graham isn’t stupid and can probably tell this is their last date, but he’s nice all the same and ends the night with a chaste kiss to her cheek and helping her into the cab.

She gets home and thanks Ruby for watching Henry, before checking to make sure he’s actually sleeping. Ruby tries to ask about the date but gives her a knowing look when Emma practically shoves her out the door. “That’s ‘cause it was with the wrong hottie.”

Emma rolls her eyes when she hears her friend through the door and decides pretending like she never heard that is probably for the best.  She jumps in the shower, her mind racing with all the realizations she had after one night with a man who was not Killian Jones. She  isn’t sure if it's the buzz of the wine from dinner or the electricity that is still lingering in every single nerve from their kiss on Friday night, but as she lays in bed she finds herself grabbing her phone before she even realizes what for. She scrolls to his name and types out a ridiculous amount of text messages before landing on something decidedly simple:

Emma: Tomorrow? Same time. Same place. I’ll buy.

She fully expects to regret it in the morning, so she’s surprised at the anticipation which she feels stirring in her gut. Emma’s not usually one to kick things off– she doesn’t usually kiss men like that either– but with Killian Jones she finds that fear dissipating leaving behind only excitement and maybe the smallest trace of hope.

Emma wakes to find an abundance of texts– mostly from Graham who apparently didn’t get the hint– but is disappointed to see her text to Killian left unanswered. She tells herself he’s probably not up at the ass crack of dawn like she is– kids will do that to you and she’s pretty sure he doesn’t have kids. She makes a mental note to ask– subtly of course– he doesn’t even know about Henry.

Shit.

She somehow makes Henry breakfast and wonders the best way to tell her client/guy-you-kissed that she has a son. She’s truly shocked when she gets said son to the bus on time, and walks into the office around 8:15 giving her enough time to prepare before her meeting with Killian. As she’s settling in at her desk, she sees Regina call her over. Emma sighs, nerves fluttering in her gut for more reason than one, and walks into Regina’s office.

“It comes to my attention you’ve never attended a Fight Night?” Regina asks while stirring creamer into her coffee. She’s not sure how Regina knows that; she mentioned it to Sidney in onboarding, but— well, that’s how she knows. There’s no judgment in Regina’s voice, but Emma can’t help suddenly feeling inadequate for the position she’s been given.

Emma sighs before rambling a bit, a habit she’s consciously trying to kick, “Well... obviously I’ve fought in them... but that was when UFC was still on Fox... and since they’ve moved to ESPN I haven’t–”

Regina cuts her off, “Alright then, we will set up a time for you and Jones to attend one. I will book the hotel rooms and secure tickets. It will be good PR for him and a good way for you to get a lay of the land before his first official fight.” Regina is scrolling through her calendar now, Emma assumes looking for the next time there’s a fight relatively close. “Ah, yes, Miss Swan, they are in Maine this weekend. Can you make yourself available Friday and Saturday night?”

“Of course, Mrs. Mills. Thank you, Mrs. Mills.” Emma stands up to leave her office as Regina speaks again.

“Oh and Miss Swan, I trust you can tell Mr. Jones of his new obligations for this Friday and Saturday.”

Emma’s excitement at the prospect of attending a Fight Night without actually having to work seems to have overshadowed the realization that Killian would be attending as well. She sighs, “Of course Mrs. Mills, I have a meeting with him now. Thank you again.”

Emma leaves Regina’s office and immediately pulls out her phone to see if Killian got her message. There’s still no reply but she supposes she deserves that– she did ghost him after kissing the holy hell out of him. She shoots off a message to Mary Margaret asking if they’re available to take Henry this weekend, and grabs her laptop. Taking a leap of faith, Emma grabs walks to the coffee shop with only a sliver of hope that he’ll be waiting for her at all.

She can’t help but let out a sigh of relief when she sees Killian sitting at their usual table– with two drinks. He’s scrolling through his phone and doesn’t notice her walk in. She takes a deep breath— and a selfish moment to really drink in every piece of him— before approaching him. As she enters his space, he looks up politely, meeting her eyes. She can’t help but notice they are almost navy, a stark difference from the normal sea blue she usually finds there. She realizes that she’s staring when he clears his throat and chuckles,  “Good morning, Swan.”

. . .

He didn’t expect the notification he heard just before shutting his eyes for the night to be from her– definitely not after the way he acted during their last phone call– but Killian would be a bloody liar if he said his heart didn’t do something absolutely stupid when he saw her name on his phone. He didn’t answer– a slight jab, sure– but he’s allowed to be petty.

It killed him.

Killian had hoped she’d still come –had thought it daft but had hoped all the same– so when he caught the flash of blonde out of the corner of his eye, it took every ounce of his willpower to not look up. As she approached the table he scrolled through his email inbox (as though he didn’t clean it out every morning), not reading a single word.

She steps awfully close to him and he can no longer play ignorant to her presence. He looks up and meets her emerald eyes. They’re almost hesitant in their gaze, but she’s staring. He smirks at that thought and decides to put her out of her misery with a slight grunt and a greeting. He uses her nickname despite himself, more out of habit than endearment today.

The smile she responds with is radiant.

He’s never going to be able to stay away from this woman, how could he when her dimples– whoa, Jones .

She sits down next to him. “I said I would buy.” She seems happy and he can’t help the flare of envy which runs up his spine.

He turns back to his phone, hoping to filter her ability to read him by averting eye contact and the words slip out before he can stop them, “How’s Humbert?”

He regrets it immediately, but she doesn’t even flinch. “Well, based on the 23 text messages I received today, I’d imagine much more interested than I am.”

Killian’s head snaps up and he has to physically put his hand under his chin in order to stop his jaw from dropping. She smirks - almost knowingly- as he answers, “That bad, huh?”

She shrugs, but it’s everything but nonchalant, “Not bad, just not interested.” She pauses, presumably for him to say something, but he’s already made up his mind. This is her race, he’ll follow her to the end of the earth or time or wherever the fuck she wants to go, but she’s driving. He just nods with a smile and she seems to take that as a hint to keep talking. “Anyway, I have some news.” His breath hitches entirely involuntarily— don’t be ridiculous, Jones, Humbert wouldn’t have proposed after one date — she rolls her eyes. “Not bad news. At least I don’t think it–”

“Come on, Swan, out with it.”

She relaxes as he cuts off her nervous babble, “Mills is sending us to the Fight Night this weekend... in Maine. I’ve never gone as anything but a fighter -and not since the network switch- so she said it’d be a good idea for me to go and learn the ropes. She wants you to come for a PR stunt promoting your match, which is in four weeks by the way...”

Her voice trails off in his head as he wraps his mind around spending a weekend with her. He’s not sure it’s a good idea– he’s hovering awfully close to the line of professionalism Emma seems determined not to cross– but he doesn’t care. This is his chance to really get to know her and he’d be a damn idiot not to take it.

“...Killian are you even listening to me?”

She’s giving him one of her token annoyed looks that he knows means she’s not really annoyed and he can’t help the smirk that forms as he answers, “Aye, love. This weekend is Maine with you, and four weeks until my next fight. Do we know who I’m fighting yet?” He takes a sip of coffee to hide his obvious nerves at the last question.

She rolls her eyes, but he can tell it’s all in jest, “I literally just said that, Jones. They emailed me today. It’s some newcomer, Phillip “Sleeper” Rose. They’ll officially announce it after the fights this weekend. He was on the Contender Series last season and has only fought twice– seems reckless to put him up against you and his lack of fights will probably make training tough...”

Killian nods his head in agreement. It is a stupid stunt and will definitely throw off his usual training which includes researching his opponent’s past fights– usually theres more than two. “Aye, it will.”

Bloody hell.

He sighs, scrubbing his left hand across his face. He’s not usually nervous for fights but somehow he feels like he owes Emma a win, like her career depends on him– it sort of does. She must notice his worry and she reaches across the table. Killian flinches at the unexpected contact but she holds a bit tighter. He should love this, but honestly confusion washes over him first. He can’t read what she wants and it’s driving him insane.

He needs a break.

Killian pulls his hand from hers and he internally winces at the wave of disappointment that crosses her face, but he can't do this. He doesn’t want to sway her opinion of him and he’s worried he won’t be able to take it slow. “Anyway, love,” he winces again– habit betraying him once more, “is there anything else for today?”

She looks confused and he feels his own heart breaking, but it's for the best. He wants this decision to be her own. “Uh, no I don’t think so. Just remember we have the check in meeting with Regina this afternoon.”

“Of course, Swan. I’ll see you there, aye?” He gives her a soft smile and basks in the one she gives back for as long as possible before standing up and heading towards the door.

. . .

Emma isn’t really sure what just happened. The Killian she’s been working with for almost two weeks now was not the one sitting across from her right now. She could read the conflict all over his face.

She did this.

Fuck.

“Killian. Killian! Wait!”  What is she doing?

He turns around at her voice, seemingly stunned by the fact she followed him– she doesn’t blame him. “Did I forget something, Swan?” He smiles warily and scratches nervously behind his ear– she’s not saying it’s adorable, but it’s adorable.

“Uh,” wow, she does not do this, “Can we talk… not about UFC?”

His smile reaches his eyes. “Of course, love.” He leads them back to their table– they have a table– calm down, Emma.

“So, this is weird now, right?”

Killian chuckles at her bluntness and she can’t help but relax a little bit. “A bit, love. I’m just not entirely sure where we stand.”

She sighs, “Me either. I sorta fucked this all up. I want to be a team– friends even? Can we... start over?” She gives him a hesitant smile.

“I’d like that.” She doesn’t think she’s ever heard a more genuine string of words…  or seen more genuine eyes… and that smile. God damn, Emma. “Killian Jones.” He reaches out his hand and looks at her expectantly.

She chuckles to herself and grabs his hand, desperately pretending she doesn’t remember the way it felt tangled in her hair, “Emma Swan.”

He smiles that smile, “Pleasure, love.” She can’t help but smile back. “I’ll see you later, hm?”

She nods, “Friends?” He winks and suddenly life feels back on track.

“Friends.” He’s still smiling and she’s pretty sure it could power the entire city of Boston. “Later, Swan.”

She smiles back and it’s real and she realizes she’s happy. “Friends.”

Really happy. They’re going to Maine this weekend free from awkwardness and the kiss she’s pretending she regrets and they’re friends— they can definitely do friends.

[pixieminutes]

Him | CB

genre: angst, fluff, swimmer!chris

members: bang chan x reader / lee felix

warnings: death in water (light description), fear of water, recurring nightmares, anxiety, swearing

a/n: scary amount of time skips in this one lmaoo hope you can still follow also y/b/n means ‘your brother’s name’

“come on! everyone’s already in!”

“i told you, i’m not going in,” you chuckled, “just go, i’ll stay here.”

your best friend rolled her eyes, but as she looked back to the rest of your friends already in the sea, shouting at the two of you to come and join, she left, screeching as the cold water met her legs.

you sighed as you watched them, but smiled and laughed whenever something would happen. it happened everytime like this, you’d be invited to the beach, you’d go to the beach (so not to miss out), you’d watch everyone get in the sea and you’d sit on the shore. missing out. everyone must’ve thought you were allergic to water or something, and though you weren’t; it kind of felt like you were.

********

“don’t worry! i know what i’m doing!” he exclaimed.

you sighed, “bro that’s a high board, i’m not sure it’s such—“

“y/n, chill out!” he laughed, “now, you sure you don’t want to join me?”

you sighed, looking at the board and shaking your head, “i’m gonna go get dry. meet you in the cafe?”

he nodded, “like always. make sure to watch me from the window!”

you chuckled, already heading back to the changing rooms, without turning around, “wouldn’t miss it!”

but that was it. you didn’t watch his dive, and by the time you got to the café, children were crowding around the window. some mothers were rushing their children away from the sight, others were watching with them; desperate to know what had happened.

you remember that you sighed as you walked over apprehensively, unsure if you even wanted to know what everyone was fussing over. you ended up deciding against it as you walked back and ordered the usual: an iced tea for you, an iced americano for your brother.

“y/n y/l/n?” the lifeguard called, “y/n?”

you furrowed your eyebrows, looking curiously towards him as you stood up.

“that’s me,” you said, still confused.

“you’re a relative of y/b/n y/l/n, right?” he asked.

“y-yes,” you said, becoming concerned.

“the ambulance will be arriving soon, but we’re not sure they’re going to be able to do much.”

“the ambulance? wha-what happened?!” you exclaimed, rushing in front of the guard as he tried to walk away.

“your brother was too tall for the depth of the pool, we think he may have broken his neck,” the lifeguard explained calmly, “an ambulance has been called as i said, do you have your parent’s numbers?”

needless to say; you didn’t get back in the water after that.

********

the first time you saw chris bang, you could smell the lingering scent of chlorine as he walked past your chair and made you want to be sick.

you looked to the empty chair on your left side. chris bang could’ve sat there, and everyone knows it would’ve been better, but you were sure your teacher wasn’t going to put anyone there for the rest of this year.

maybe he believed your twin brother’s spirit remained there. or maybe he thought that you believed that.

either way, you didn’t want chris bang sat there with his smell of chlorine. just the thought of swimming made you want to cry.

the second time you met chris bang, it was just the two of you and the lingering smell of chlorine was even stronger.

“hey, is this seat taken?”

you looked up to see dimples and bleach blonde hair, matched with a pale face. you sighed.

“no, you can sit.”

he smiled, thanking you as he sat down and stuck his straw into his chocolate milk, drinking it slowly.

“i’m chris.”

“i know. history class.”

“oh, sorry. i don’t think i saw you.”

you nodded, “it’s fine.”

chris nodded too, an awkward smile adorning his face as he started eating his peach in silence. you felt bad for the boy, but at the same time, he made you feel sick.

“what’s your name?” he asked, taking another sip of chocolate milk as you looked up from your phone to finally take a good look at chris bang.

his hair was curly and bleach blonde, though it looked as though he’d tried to straighten it, it made you wonder why.

his skin was scarily pale, and had a few scars, it made you wonder what they were from.

his eyes were brown and when he smiled, they turned into crescents, you just had to wonder how and why they were so sparkly.

“my name’s y/n,” you said, taking one of chris’s pieces of popcorn, “y/n y/l/n.”

from that moment on, chris bang never really left your mind and you couldn’t help but wonder if you ever left his.

********

“oh shit, look outside,” chris swore, sighing as he looked out the window.

you turned around, screwing up your nose as you looked outside, “ew. well, i guess that’s a sign that we need one more round.”

“y/n, you’re setting yourself up for a game you cannot win,” chris said cockily.

you raised your eyebrow, moving across the sofa until your faces were next to each other, “you’re on.”

“okay then. rainbow road, let’s go,” chris said and suddenly, the sound of the mario kart countdown brought you back to reality.

“no fair! i wasn’t ready!”

but the thunderstorm outside wasn’t a sign of ‘one more round’. neither was it a sign of ‘go home y/n’. it was saying one thing and one thing only: ‘sleepover’.

“chris, i don’t have any clothes to sleep in!” you called from the bathroom as you wiped the remainder of make up from your face.

“lucky for you, my house has many clothes in it,” chris said, appearing in the doorway of the bathroom and chucking in a pair of his boxers (clean - you hoped) and a black sweatshirt.

and as you pulled it over your head, for once since the accident, the smell of chlorine comforted you, and eventually it even lulled you to sleep.

though not for long, apparently, as just before 3am (2:49 to be precise), you were being shaken awake by chris who, now you were awake, held you in his arms, stroking your back gently as you sobbed into his neck.

“it’s okay, i’m here. shh, shh,” he soothed, “y/n it’s okay now, it was just a dream.”

“no it wasn’t!” you sobbed, “it was real chris h-he was hurting and i wasn’t there for him!”

“who? who was hurting? angel, you couldn’t hurt a fly,” chris hummed.

“y/b/n! he was in pain! he was screaming! and i– i couldn’t do a thing!” you sobbed, basically screaming at this point as the tears continued to fall.

you hadn’t even remembered your nightmares when you were with chris, it wasn’t a concern that crossed your mind.

you barely even remembered your brother, though it was a terrible thing to say. maybe that’s why you never told him.

but your mind was just too busy being full of chris bang and his terrible jokes and his pale skin and his veiny body and his curly hair and his gently eyes and his childlike smile and the overwhelming feeling of wanting to kiss his lips as you hold his face in your hands, breathing in the scent of chlorine and expensive aftershave that just smells like chris.

or in short, how much you liked chris bang.

********

“so, i was thinking,” chris started.

“always a bad idea.”

chris smiled, “ha ha. anyway, i was thinking that we should get out the house.”

you chuckled, nodding, “sure. where?”

“i was gonna take you to my favourite place ever!” chris exclaimed.

“your favourite place ever?” you repeated, as chan nodded, “seems pretty special.”

he smiled, nodding eagerly, “i’ll pick you up tonight. 6?”

“sounds good,” you said, “wait, what shall i wear?”

“anything,” he shrugged, “i’ll get what you need.”

“woah, gentleman,” you chuckled.

“as always,” chris smiled cheekily, “i’ll see you later, okay? felix is calling.”

you looked behind your friend and saw the freckled boy, standing very impatiently a few yards away.

“go, go, have fun,” you said, shooing chris away.

“i’m with felix, it’s impossible not to have fun,” chris said, already walking away as you laughed, watching him go, your heart rate quickening before realisation dawned.

you were just asked on a date by chris bang.

********

“y/n! y/n!”

you sobbed, watching as they took your brother into the ambulance. his voice was hoarse and he was covered in both pool water and blood.

“y/n i’m sorry!” he cried, before your mum got in the ambulance and they closed the doors behind them.

when you awoke, your breathing was heavy and you had a wet face to go with your wet pillow. you sighed as you realised what had happened, and you couldn’t help but wish chris bang was here to wrap his arms around you like he had the other night, calming you down and making you snacks before cuddling you back to sleep.

you wished you could smell chlorine mixed with expensive aftershave.

you wished you could be with him.

(and for once since the accident, ‘him’ wasn’t referring to your brother)

********

15 minutes after you got out the shower, you were only half ready as chris bang beeped the horn on his dark blue polo, letting you know he was outside.

“yes! shut up!” you shouted, tying your hair into a bun quickly as you ran out the small house, meeting chris outside.

“ah, finally,” he said, opening the passenger seat door, “m’lady.”

you rolled your eyes, chuckling as you got in the car, letting chris shut the door and run round the other side, letting himself in and driving off.

the car smelt of chlorine, though that shouldn’t have surprised you.

you observed that chris drove with one, veiny, hand on the steering wheel, one by his side. for some reason; this didn’t surprise you.

chris hummed along to old 60s songs on the radio. you smiled as the humming turned into quiet singing and by the time you got to chris’s favourite place in the world, you were both screaming the words. this didn’t surprise you.

“okay, we’re here!” chris smiled, turning off the engine and turning to the back seat, picking up two draw string bags, placing one onto your lap, “sorry if it’s not your size, but i think i’ve got it right.”

you opened the bag and you thought you could collapse as you saw the exact same swimming costume you’d worn on that day (along with a pink, fluffy towel and some snacks).

“chris i-i’m sorry i can’t—“

“do you not know how to swim?” chris asked gently, “it’s okay! my dad’s a swimming teacher and i- i never thought to tell you but actually i’m an olympic level swimmer.”

“olympic?” you breathed, feeling you heart rate quickening as you looked at the building that held the swimming pool, “th-that’s really good chris.”

the building was tall. you could almost imagine the diving boards.

“but i-i can swim, i just—“

you didn’t know how to continue. what? you can’t look at a swimming pool without imagining your brothers blood still there? you can’t look at a diving board without screaming with tears? you couldn’t stand the smell of chlorine until you met chris?

“i can’t do this,” you breathed, letting the world become hazy around you, letting the sound and feeling of your beating heart take over.

your felt your eyes become heavy, closing shut as your breathing quickened and you all you could hear was your heart, and chris’s muffled voice. it was as if you were drowning.

“y/n! y/n!” chris shouted as you slowly faded into unconsciousness, his hand on your arm.

“y/n! y/n!”

“y/n i’m sorry!” you could hear him becoming desperate.

“y/n i’m sorry!”

“y/b/n,” you breathed, sobbing gently as you faded in and out of consciousness “i’m sorry.”

for part 2: click here

[nightglider124]

RobStar Week 2019: Day 5

Sigh... this is honestly such a heap of shit. Like, I was so excited to write this prompt and it was initially meant to be an actual sexy fic but y’know... I’m just not feeling this writing thing lately. I keep considering just throwing in the towel like for good... I just... feel so shit.

I fucking hate every little bit of this fic.

But hey ho, i’m being a depressed little bitch so just ignore lmao.

Nsfw below... i guess?

Hope some of you guys are still able to enjoy whatever the fuck this is. 

Edit: Great and this isn’t even showing up in the robstar tag lmao. Ima just go to bed tbh.

__________________________________________________________

Blush

The city lights had dimmed so that only few remained through the night; the sidewalks were empty of people aside from the odd inebriated soul, stumbling towards their home. 

Traffic was nonexistent; the lights jumping from red to yellow to green with no cars around to make use of the pattern. 

The streets were silent, with only the occasional gust of wind that tore through the narrow roads of the city.

It was late and Jump had long since wound down for the night, store closing up for the evening and saying goodbye until tomorrow came.

The waves of the ocean crashed and swelled against the island of the tower, ebbing and flowing in a calmly manner; one that matched the current behavior of their beloved city.

For the most part, the titans had taken a leaf out of the city’s book, choosing to head to bed way before now.

Of course, not every titan had followed through with that.

Darkness shrouded the main room, with only a dim glow that came from the console in use; brightening when projected to the large main screen against the windows of the tower.

The keyboard made an incessant clacking sound as fingers rapidly typed upon it, chasing leads and researching evidence that was essential to cases. 

Robin’s face was illuminated by the blue light of the screen; a glaring reminder that he should have been in bed long ago. The creases in his forehead deepened as he stared ahead, tapping his fingers against his chin as he dwelled on missing details of the report he was trying to finish up.

He dragged a hand up over his face and pushed his fingers through his dark hair, exhaling in irritation as he couldn’t quite work out one connection between two recent crimes they’d thwarted. 

“I knew you would be in here…” 

So invested in the current document on his screen, he briefly shifted his eyes in her direction before inevitably returning his full attention to his work,

“Hey, Star.”

He heard her light footsteps grow louder as she came closer, standing at his shoulder and most likely staring down at him with a look of exasperation.

“You should come to bed, Richard.”

“Can’t. I’m following up with a lead.”

A gentle hand touched his shoulder, in a feeble attempt to make him see reason since it was 3am and sitting in front of a console was not the place he should be. 

“Can you not simply continue in the morning?” She paused, stroking her fingertips against his shoulder blades before bringing them down to his bicep,

He sighed, “No. I’ll lose the train of thought. You know I tend to do better thinking at night when I’m all alone.”

Starfire made a noncommittal noise, before she let her fingers fall away from him completely. She shuffled her feet and he was aware of her moving past him. Turning around, she rested her rump against the edge of the console station, just beside the main computer that Robin was working at.

Robin took a brief moment to pull his eyes from the screen to look at her, unable to help but notice the simple dressing gown she wore. It was tied at the waist, a wrapping of violet silk that ended just above her knees; shorter than most but he’d never complain about it.

Swallowing, he redirected his gaze back to the words on the computer and continued his assault on the keyboard beneath his fingers. 

Starfire smothered a smirk; knowing that mind of his better than he did at times. He was a stubborn man and whilst his determination was admirable; the early hours of the morning held no place for it, not when he should be asleep alongside herself.

“Will you come to bed, Robin?” She asked, her voice soft and serene,

“I’ll be in soon. I promise.”

“When?”

“Once I finish this off, Star.”

Her brows furrowed and she folded her arms across her chest, opening her mouth to protest but she stopped short. A light bulb moment took hold of her and she decided to use any means necessary to bring her boyfriend away from his work. 

Yes, it needed to be completed and she would never deny him that. But, she did believe there was a time and a place for such work. This was not it, being as late as it was.

“Robin… you will put your work aside and come to bed. You must sleep.”

He sighed heavily and sat bat in the chair, retracting his hands from the keyboard,

“Star, I-”

His girlfriend cut him off as she shrugged the silk dressing gown from her shoulders, slowly tugging at the knot holding it together until it unraveled. The material slithered down her body, kissing every inch it could reach on its way to the floor.

It pooled at her feet; a heap of what was apparently the only thing covering her.

Robin stared at her naked form; even in the low light, she was breathtaking. 

Everything about her was perfect; the curve of her hips, the line of her long legs, her ample breasts all wrapped up in a goddess of a woman that all he wanted to do was touch.

She stood there, eyeing him carefully; a mischievous glint in her emerald orbs. Her long auburn hair cascaded over her shoulder, only adding to the ethereal aura that she showcased.

He felt the increase of his heart rate and felt the palms of his hands grow sweaty. Robin swallowed several times in a futile attempt to calm himself down from the glorious sight in front of him. 

Heat rose within him; a fire was burning in the pit of his stomach as he drank her in; every little beautiful detail that made her her.

The back of his neck grew hot and he felt his cheeks flush; no doubt had he taken on a tomato appearance. The blush spread all over his face until he felt it drip onto the tops of his ears. 

He was speechless; unable to do much else besides gawk at her like she was some artistic masterpiece in a high end gallery. 

Starfire bit her lower lip, seeing she had finally gotten his attention. She swayed her hips as she made her way to him, deliberately slowing her steps to make the moment even more agonizing for him.

“Am I distracting you, my love?” She murmured, caressing his arm as she reached him.

“I… uh…” He stammered, still finding his blue eyes focused on her stunning assets,

Grinning to herself, Starfire gripped the arms of the chair he was sitting in and turned him slightly so that all that clouded his vision was her and nothing more. 

With a naughty giggle, she clambered up onto the chair, placing her knees on either side of his lap so she was straddling him, whilst her fingers gripped his shoulders. She pressed small kisses along his jaw and across his cheek, blowing in his ear and reveling in the way he shuddered beneath her.

She smiled when she felt his hands brush the back of her thighs, gently rubbing up and down before he took the plunge and slid them higher so that his fingers kneaded the flesh of her backside.

Starfire took immense joy in the way his blush had started from an initial faint pink to now being a strong red hue and the way his eyes were half lidded; as if he were intoxicated by her.

Pressing her forehead to his, Starfire let her dark green eyes lock with his cerulean ones before she leaned in and pressed her lips against his. The kiss was desperate and demanding and caused something to stir deep inside of Robin; something that greatly excited him. 

“S-Star…” He gasped as she retreated from the kiss,

“Yes?” She purred, nuzzling the crook of his neck,

“I…”

“Tell me, Robin…” She whispered, breath fanning his earlobe as she slid her hands beneath the material of his tunic, “Will you not… reconsider coming to bed with me?”

“Well… I… guess it… could wait until tomorrow…” He replied, lost in the haze that was the Tamaranian Princess.

Starfire cheekily nipped his ear, shifting on his lap to really get his mind completely off the case he’d been working on,

“Good. I am glad you see it my way.” 

[lovelybuccky]

Three Things That Are Certain (Chapter 5)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: Your mother once taught you that when you feel afraid, you should look at your surroundings and find at least three things that are certain, just three things that you know to be true. However, a collection of photos are found from different points in history, and you are in every single one. Questions are being raised, and you are finding it more and more difficult to name those three things. But he is there to remind you of what they are.

Warnings: Violence, profanity, graphic violence and descriptions of pain in later chapters.

A/N: Woohoo it’s back! I made this part a little longer just because I felt the others were too short...hope this is better! (Also I scheduled to post this at 3am UK time because apparently that’s the best time to post for other timezones??? I don’t know haha we’ll see if it works)

Previous Chapter

(^^ gif from here)

Previously...

“I woke up in the 1941, completely in control. I guess after all their tries they still couldn’t find a method strong enough. I wondered around, decided that there were worse places to end up. So I settled down and tried to make a life for myself, expecting to die of old age before Hydra could find me again. But I suppose the Stone doesn’t just effect the time around me, but also my internal clock, since I haven’t really aged since I woke up in Brooklyn in 1941. I’ve been on the run since, knowing Hydra would look for me eventually, since I never completed my mission.”

“Which was?”

You look at the ground, shame oozing out of you. You were dreading this moment. This is where everything shifts. You avoid all their curious gazes, holding off the inevitable.

“Y/N,” Steve’s voice spoke gently, but strongly too, “what was your mission?”

Your eyes flicker back to Bucky to find him already watching you, confusion etching his features. You fear his reaction the most, and you know that there is no chance that he could ever trust you, not anymore. There’s still so much you haven’t told him, so much that you both weren’t ready for him to know. But this is where things get complicated. You hold eye contact with him for as long as possible - until the very last second.

“I…was sent to kill Steve Rogers.”

***

You wake up shivering on the city ground, a crick in your neck and a splitting headache. Every bone in your body, even ones you didn’t realise you had in the first place, ache and click as you hoist yourself up off the cold concrete. You fall back against the stone wall, a small yelp escapes you as you wait for your head to stop spinning and for the black blotches in your vision to fade away. Panic washes over you as you take in your surroundings.

You’re standing in an ordinary alley amongst garbage, alone - but something feels off. You can’t put your finger on it, but you feel like your way out of your depth, like you were picked up and thrown into a world that you don’t understand and that doesn’t understand you. You try to think about what it could be, but concentrating only makes your headache spike. Deciding to scope out the area, and with one hand against the wall for stability, you hobble out of the alley and onto the street.

As soon as you are out in the open, you instantly notice that you don’t recognise anything. The brand of cars, the design of clothes, the shops - nothing is familiar, nothing like the New York you know. You carry on walking along the street, head up high, ignoring the pain that shoots through head as you do so. It’s quiet, almost tranquil - until you hear a crash.

Your hand reflexively darts for the gun in your holster, the holster that you don't even remember owning, and you inch past the movie theatre and towards the alley, leading you to the source of the sound.

But before you can look round the corner, a man with blood oozing out of his nose comes stumbling out onto the street, and you almost shoot him on sight out of pure shock. He doesn’t even notice you as he bolts from whatever or whoever gave him a bloody nose.

“Sometimes I think you like getting punched.”

Wait, you knew that voice.

You peer round the corner, and the sight makes bile creep up your throat.

James Buchanan Barnes and Steven Grant Rogers.

Without thinking, you instantly aim your gun between the latter’s eyes. You have no idea why you did, it was like your body overtook your mind and started working on its own accord. Sweat trickles down your face and you start to shake uncontrollably, messing up your aim.

You stay like that, watching them. Half of your brain is saying “shoot”, and the other half is shouting “don’t you dare”. It hurts in a way that you’ve never hurt before, this mental game of tug of war.

“You know, it’s illegal to lie on your enlistment form.”

Enlistment form. Soldiers. War. World War? There were two…World War II? 1940s? America versus….wait, America? Sergeant…no, Captain…Captain America…

And that’s when it comes flooding back.

The years locked in a cell, the training, the green liquid - and your mission. The reason why you’re here. Whatever they used to control you wasn’t strong enough and has worn off - and that means you have a choice.

You lower the gun, and you run; heart pounding in your chest and legs burning with every slam of your foot against concrete. You have no destination, the only plan is run until you feel safe.

You never stop running.

***

Once again, to nobody’s surprise, Bucky Barnes can’t sleep. Despite his heavy eyelids and his even heavier muscles, his mind is racing at a million miles a minute, replaying scenes of the night before.

After a small disagreement and a few words of reassurance from Steve, Tony had finally agreed to allow you to stay at the compound until it was certain that you were safe, and that you had provided them with as much information as possible.Tony wasn't entirely convinced, and you didn't seem to be either, to be honest, but Steve insisted on it. “Innocent until proven guilty”, he said.

“Seems pretty damn guilty to me.” Tony snapped back, “She literally just said her mission was to assassinate you, doesn’t that seem a little guilty to you, Rogers?”

“Am I dead?” Steve said calmly. Silence. “Exactly. If she was guilty, then I wouldn’t be standing here in front of you right now and we wouldn’t be having this argument in the first place. Give the kid a break, she’s had a hard enough time as it is.”

And now he’s here, hours later and honestly? He’s torn.

This is a risky bet. Steve’s life is literally on the line. If it was anyone else, he would have kicked them out of there the second “to kill Steve Rogers” passed their lips. He had beaten up punks who had threatened his best friend before, and he could do it again. But this is different, Steve is now more than capable of defending himself, and she is different. He couldn’t hurt her, not even if he wanted to. She knew him when he was the Winter Soldier, she knows a part of him that nobody else even saw, and he knew her too, apparently. That connected them, he can feel it; even if he can't remember her because his brain is too damn broken, he can feel that they are somehow intertwined - and that, for now, was enough for him. But that still didn’t stop alarm bells ringing in his mind.

He closes his eyes and lies there for a little longer.

…Fuck it.

He gives in, forcing himself out of the warm embrace of his bed and throws on his gym clothes. Sure, it was 3am, but he found that an hour or so of hitting a punch bag usually helps him let to let off steam. Or at least focus his mind on something else until his body is forced to sleep.

He makes his way to the compound gym, not thinking about being quiet. Years of stealth training made sneaking around like second nature to him, and besides, he had the floor to himself.

Well, nearly to himself.

He had requested it actually, not because he wanted more privacy - though that was an added bonus - but because he didn't want to keep the others awake when his nightmares inevitably cut through the silence. It only isolates him more from the others, but they deserve to rest well, and they can’t do that unless he is out of the way.

But that means that there are spare rooms (the only spare rooms) on his floor - the top floor. So now he is sharing it, and he is sharing it with you.

He stops by your door, listening in to make sure he hadn't woken you.Yes, his trust in you was debatable, but he wasn’t going to be a jerk about it. When he hears nothing but silence from behind the closed door, he carries on on his way.

It’s all a bit silly though, isn’t it. First they rescue a girl from an organisation that they thought they had destroyed years ago, then they find out she can time travel, and then they discover that she was actually meant to assassinate America’s golden boy and Bucky’s right-hand man. It sounds like something he would read in a book. A fictional book.

He hates that he doesn’t trust her, and he hates that there’s nothing he can do about it.

As he reaches the entrance to the gym, he hears muffled thuds and grunts coming from inside. Peering through the glass door, his eyebrows shoot to the roof at the sight before him.

It’s you, in some spare gym clothes and drenched in sweat. A few wisps of hair stick to your face, and your eyes are fixed on the punch bag in front of you. One foot forward, turned slightly inward; one foot back, turned slightly outward. You're on the balls of your feet, bouncing lightly and soaring from position to position. One fist stays in front as one guards your face, though they switch roles with every punch you throw. The perfect stance.

Bucky wonders how you learnt to fight, and his heart aches when we realises you probably had to teach yourself. Probably from trial and error.

You’re striking the punching bag like your life depends on it, and if he looks hard enough, he can see faint purple circles under you eyes - you’re obviously were having a similar night to him. But he is mesmerised by your concentration, it’s like you’re dancing. Your eyes are trained on the bag, but there’s a softness in them, an innocence in the way they glisten. Sixteen. You were sixteen years old when you were forced to defend your life, and that makes Bucky’s blood boil.

Normally, he would turn away and wait until the gym was empty. He doesn’t want to be a dick and avoid people, he actually wants to become closer with his teammates (to get to a point where he called them friends rather than teammates), but he just doesn’t feel like he can. Solitude was the easiest and safest option.

However, this time he stays. Maybe it’s the way your eyebrow are furrowed, or how your arms are shaking from probably hours of punching, but something tells him that you shouldn’t be alone; that you could benefit from some company. It’s a thought that surprises him, but doesn’t stop him.

As soon as he pushes the door open, your focus snaps to him. He puts his arms up in surrender, an attempt to calm your shock. There’s a beat, then he clears his throat. “May I?” he asks, nodding in the direction of the punching bag next to you.

You square up, in an attempt to compose yourself after how embarrassingly obvious it was that his mere presence alarmed you. “Be my guest.”

He moves past you to the punching bag and gets to work. You watch him for a moment, admiring the force with which he can hit, and not failing to notice the way the muscles on his back move under his slightly too tight t-shirt. You feel your cheeks start to burn at the thought, and immediately turn back to your punching bag.

You both carry on like that in silence, only the sound of flesh meeting leather filling the room. After what you said last night, you don’t know where you stand with Bucky, but it feels nice that he’s there and you aren’t alone.

Not entirely, anyway.

***

1945

You curse under your breath as you search for your house key on your keychain. Why do you have so many damn keys? You’re a factory worker, not a fucking locksmith. Finally finding the right key, you jam it in and voila, you’re inside. Once you close the door behind you, you proceed to re-lock it - one key lock; three bolts, one for the top, middle and bottom of the door; 2 night latches; and one chain lock for good measure. It was a little excessive, but better safe than sorry. You throw your bag onto the kitchen table and shake your heels off, hanging your coat up on the brass hook by the door.

The walls of your house are covered with framed photographs, newspaper clippings and postcards; anything to make it feel more homely. It’s small, only two rooms, a bathroom and a tiny deck at the front of the house - which provides the perfect spot for reading. It isn’t much, but it’s enough for you.

You practically slide over to your turntable and select your favourite album. Your mood is instantly lifted when jazz fills the room, and you sway your hips to the beat as you dance towards the kitchen. It’s been a long time since someone has taken you dancing, you think to yourself.

You laugh at yourself as you bump into the counter, itching to make yourself a cup of coffee. The day had dragged at work, but a trip to your favourite bookshop and a quick conversation with the sweet old lady next door had cleared your mind.

So much so, in fact, that you forgot the date.

You continue to skid and slide across the wooden floor as the music plays, your own laughter filling the air of the otherwise empty house. You had somewhat gotten used to your new life. It had only been a couple of years and yes, it still hurt like a bitch, but you were finding yourself in more moments like this - laughing, dancing, adjusting. Your life depends on you being a chameleon, you are just lucky that you used to adore studying the 1940s in history class. After a few minutes you finally settle down and sip on your coffee, looking out onto the street.

There are two little girls playing hopscotch, pigtails bouncing with every jump. There’s another little girl, offering her chocolate bar to a boy who had scraped his knee, and one young mother - sat on the steps of her house, clutching her baby as silent tears escape her eyes.

That last one isn’t an uncommon sight. Everyday, some poor woman receives a telegram, and it is rarely good news. Your heart clenches and you grip your cup a little tighter. That kind of pain is unbearable, not only losing someone whom you have given a huge portion of your heart to, but to lose them in the way she has, and leaving behind a future they could only dream of. You imagine that’s how your parents felt when you disappeared with no goodbye, no final “I love you”.

Swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat, you make a mental note to visit the woman sometime next week. Maybe just this one time you can come out of hiding to help someone.

The longer you watch, the more you realise that everyone in the world has someone by their side. One little girl has the other to re-braid her when when it comes loose, the little boy has the girl to watch over him and lift him up when he falls, and the mother and child have each other - to love each other when they know he isn't coming back.

But you were in this on your own, like a lone wolf in a forest full of packs. That’s how it has to be, you can't afford to have someone else around. You don't know if or when Hydra will find you and snatch you away from the life you've built. You can’t do that to another human being, have them rely on you and then leave them in the dust, a thousand promises broken.

You feel loneliness start to creep in again with open arms, but you know that if you went to it, it would never return your embrace, but laugh at you for thinking it would.

Distraction. You need a distraction. A thought pops to mind: you haven't read the newspaper yet. Granted, it wasn’t the best distraction you could think of, since it was rarely happy news that inked the page. But it kept you in the know, and that was enough to give you a sense of control, and therefore, a sense of security.

You grab the newspaper and make your way to the sofa, but you stop in your tracks as you read the headline.

‘HOWLING COMMANDO JAMES B. BARNES KILLED IN FREIGHT CAR ACCIDENT’

Something in your gut sinks and tears prickle your eyes as you read and re-read the headline over and over, refusing to submit to reality.

The words scream at you, begging for your attention and acknowledgment, like an alarm clock or a screaming child. Your vision lags and your legs buckle, bringing you to the floor. You hunch over the paper, sobs racking through your body.

This is where it begins. You know what he’s going to go through, what they’re going to do to him. Your nails dig into your palm as tears stream down your face. You wish it was you instead.

Loneliness watches on from the doorway.

***

Bucky saunters into the kitchen, everyone is starting to wake up but it’s only been a few hours since he was with you in the gym. You left not long after he arrived, claiming that you needed to sleep before the further tests and questionings that would take place later that day. He assumes that’s where you are now.

The only other person in the kitchen is Steve, who’s pouring himself a glass of orange juice after his morning run, “Rough night?”

Bucky usually joins Steve on his morning runs, unless he doesn’t sleep well the night before. Which, to be honest, was quite often these days. Bucky nods before plonking himself onto a breakfast stool, and starts to twirl a pen that he found on the counter in his hands.

Steve sets down his drink and leans against the counter, face-to-face with Bucky, “What’s going on, Buck?”

He shakes his head dismissively, but he can feel Steve watching him like a hawk. There’s no way Bucky can lie to him, so he gives in, “I just don’t understand.”

Steve quirks an eyebrow. Bucky continues, “I don’t understand how you’re so calm in a situation like this. She was sent to kill you, Steve. I know we can’t just throw her out or get rid of her, but don’t you think we should be more cautious? How do you have so much trust in her after what she told us?”

Steve merely laughs and shakes his head, amused by his obliviousness, “Because of what she told us,” he replied smoothly.

Bucky narrowed his eyes at him, still not getting it. Steve moved round the counter and placed himself on the stool next to Bucky, leaning his elbows on the marble surface, “A young and helpless person captured by Hydra, brainwashed and tortured into becoming a murder machine. Now where have I heard that before?”

Bucky sets the pen back down on the counter and finally looks at Steve, “This is different.”

“How?”

“It just is.”

“No, it’s not,” Steve says sternly yet affectionately, “Buck, you gotta have more faith. You can’t keep living on ‘what ifs’ and tip-toeing around everything. Here is someone who understands what you went through, and who you understand. That connects you, why do you feel the need to cut the rope?” He pauses, “Are you sure you’re wary of her just because of what her mission was?”

Bucky hesitates, before fixing his attention back on the pen, “She said she knew me when I was…him.”

“Then you also share a past, and that’s something only you two have. She’s the only one who was there when you went through that. Not me, not anyone else - just her. You have a choice, you’re allowed to have connections with people, you know. You don’t have to be alone.”

“I have you.”

“Yeah, but you could have more.”

Bucky remains silent, he can feel Steve’s eyes on him but refuses to admit that he is right.

Steve finally gets up and heads towards the door, turning around at the last moment, “Just talk to her, punk. If not for your sake, for hers. You may have me in this world, but she doesn't appear to have anybody.”

And then he’s gone, and Bucky is on his own again. He knows Steve is right, of course he is.

Bucky grabs his keys and heads towards your room.

***

Next Chapter // Masterlist

A/N: Any feedback is greatly appreciated <3

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