#it’s answer time *enter obnoxious jingle*

[chaosdoesnotdefineme]

Can I bother you? Whats your favorite poem in your native languague? Go🗣🗣

You’re not bothering me!

uhhmm that’s a really hard question. I‘d say probably Lorelei. I just really love mermaids.

[fallenisded]

Baby, it’s cold outside…

Pairing: Sunarin x an absolutely downbad (writer) barista!reader <3

a/n: what is up chat, its been two years since i last posted a little something. Im going through it.. 🫠 And tumblr sunarinxreader tag is lacking right now,,, so here’s a little something while an exam thats going to determine my future is literally just a week away :3

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The soft chime of the bell that hung above the door signals the departure of the last customer of the warm, coffee scented cafe. You stood behind the counter and thanked the stars internally. That guy has been sitting in the corner for hours since he first came, thank god he finished whatever he has going on with him.

“Oh, he finally left huh?” The Manager came out of his little camping spot and chuckled softly when he saw his only still checked barista deflated at the same spot they stood at, completely drained from acting all cheery for service. “You betcha he left. If not, I would have forced him out myself by blasting Mariah Carey obnoxiously.”

Right after saying that, it came back as quickly to bite your ass. A tall lanky guy entered the cafe, with that stupid jingle of a chime that you’ve heard more that you can count on for the entire day today. Looks like the poor barista really needed to blast Mariah Carey now. You really looked like you wanted to choke the living daylights out of..oh wait..why is he kinda…

“Hi, sorry. This place isn’t closing anytime soon right?” Well, technically no, because they would close at 10. Now let’s take a look at the time, oh! It’s 9:48. Yeah, totally. Just when they were going to open your mouth to answer the gorgeously handsome, jaw dropping man that seemingly just came out of a romance shoujo, the manager cut you off by a second. “Don’t worry, we can still serve one last customer,” What the fuck.

“Thanks, can I have a mint macchiato? Hot,” A mint macchiato. At 9:48 at night. On Christmas Eve. Just who is this man? The manager immediately enters in the order without even a slight hesitation. “And to who?” You could practically see yourself banging your head onto the coffee machine. Is this really a good idea, Mr Manager??

“Suna,” Okay nevermind. Not only is his appearance an eye candy, even his name sounds hot. “Alright, our lovely barista here will call out to you when they’re done with your drink,” the receipt machine prints out the paper slip after this greek carved Suna taps his card onto the card reader. You glared at the manager when he mentioned you, muttering curses underneath your breath as you positioned yourself at the coffee machine to make the espresso. 

The familiar aroma of the espresso beans filled your senses as you grumpily clicked the filter onto the machine, letting it brew. You got out the proper cup and drizzled it in peppermint syrup. Getting out the milk from the fridge to make the foam, you noticed Suna was watching your every movement over the little glass panel that separated the two of you. Most of the time, this would be called creepy. But when it’s him, it’s strangely flustering. Could you imagine a drop dead gorgeous guy is just watching over you as you make his drink? There’s just something so intimate and domestic about it.

“S-Suna,” You stuttered out after assembling the drink. The flustering got to you. After this, you are going to clock out and this embarrassing act of yours is going to haunt you until the next day of Christmas. Suna’s cold fingers accidentally grazed onto yours when he went to get his MINT MACCHIATO, letting you get goosebumps everywhere. He’s abnormally cold. Must’ve been outside. Who are we kidding, of course it’s outside. “Thanks,” And he seemed to catch their stutter with that disgustingly dreamy smirk of his. He brings the cup to his slightly chapped lips to take a sip, satisfied with the taste, he lets out a sigh that looks like it was kept inside for too long. 

Instead of moving to sit at one of the many comfortable seats that’s prepared for the participants, he just stood there, leaning on the self-collecting counter like he’s taking a photo for a modelling agency. The manager was long forgotten about as these two just stood there in silence while Suna enjoyed his drink. 

For the barista, it felt awkward to watch a man they found so attractive drinking the drink they made.

For Suna Rintarou? He liked watching the expressions and how awkward they can get even though they were grumpy while prepping his drink for him. He found it adoring.

He didn’t know what made him rush into the cafe. But what he does know is how much this barista attracted him when he saw them all deflated on the counter when he stood outside the cafe, on his phone with an annoying twin on the other line. With snow landing in his fluffy brown hair and on the shoulder’s of his coat.

“Tsumu, I’ll call you back later. This person is pretty cute,” That was all he said before hanging up.

“Sorry if I stopped you from going back home. I know it’s Christmas Eve and all.”

“Huh?”

Suna turned around to face you properly, he locked eyes with you, making your breath hitch. Holy fuck, his eyes are so beautiful.

“Excuse me?” HIs voice dragged them out of your own head. Wait, why does his face seem a little more flushed than before?

“You just called me beautiful..?” He chuckled softly. This time, it was your turn to feel your cheeks get warmer. Ding, you just said your thoughts out loud. You just dug your own little grave of embarrassment. “Oh my god.”

================================================

a/n: WOOOOOOO I FINISHED TYPING THIS IN AN HOUR GRWAWWWWWWW

[across-violet-skies]

Friday update, as promised!! have some more Lethal Company AU :3

getting into the action now!!! no more introductions!!!

Time glances around the group. The newbies– Twilight, Sky, and Four– are visibly nervous, eyes shifting as the ship descends down to the desolate surface of moon 41-Experimentation.

The team is ready, despite what they might think. They’ve prepared for this.

Time turns to the group, glancing an eye over all of them individually. Behind him, the ship doors open as it lowers to the ground. “Okay. Is everyone familiar with the plan?”

Five heads bob at him, and three call out their answer. Altogether, that makes eight, with Time himself as the ninth and final member of the team.

That’s everyone.

“Alright. The flashlights will be arriving shortly. Everyone stays in the ship until then, got it?”

Again, nods are shot his way. The feisty one– Legend, his mind supplies– rolls his eyes, but nods nevertheless.

Time’s not sure how well he can deal with a moody teenager during a contract. Still, he needs the money. He would do it for Malon, his wife, at the very least. She would normally be working contracts too, but-

Well. Best not to get all in his head before entering the facility. That's never good.

Behind him, a cheery jingle plays as the supplies pod lands on the hill nearby. Time startles from his thoughts, leading the group out of the ship.

“Captains will claim flashlights, and then one member of each team gets the others,” he decides, slamming a fist against the pod. It spits out four flashlights with obnoxiously green plastic coatings. Time and Wars claim theirs, and the other two are gathered by Legend (who hands it off to Hyrule) and Four.

Wars stands ahead, waving a hand to get everyone’s attention. “Over there,” he begins, pointing up and over a concrete wall. “...is the main entrance. There’s a ladder over there.” He points along the wall where, sure enough, a yellow ladder stands tall, leading over the concrete. “If you get lost out here, remember to scan. The monitors will locate the ship and the main entrance within a certain distance.”

“Scan inside the facility as well,” Time adds. “Always scan. It shows you scrap you might miss, as well as any creatures around.”

Wars nods at that, gesturing loosely with one hand. “When in doubt, scan. It can’t hurt.”

Legend huffs, arms crossed in annoyance. “Can we just go inside now? We’re wasting daylight.”

“We can, we can.” Wars holds his hands up in defense. “Everybody follow me. I’ll get us to the main entrance.” With a swift turn on his heel, Wars marches off toward the ladder. The rest of the group follows suit, albeit not as dramatically as the Captain.

“Is it just me, or is this guy super obnoxious?” Legend whispers near Hyrule’s ear. He giggles in response, covering his mouth with a hand. Legend cracks a smile, chuckling lowly. “Yeah, I knew you’d agree. I can’t wait to get bossed around by Captain Stick Up The Ass!” He exclaims, voice absolutely dripping with sarcasm.

Wind runs off suddenly, much to Wars’ dismay. “I found a bird!” He yells as a small popup appears on everyone’s visor screens.

New creature data sent to terminal!

“It’s called a ‘Mantacoil’!” Wind adds, sprinting back to the rest of the group. “There were three of them! They flew away, though.” The kid has the audacity to seem disappointed about this, despite the fact that he was the one who quite literally charged them. They’re birds! What did he expect?

Time sighs wearily. “That’s great. Next time, don’t suddenly run off without telling anyone where you’re going. That’s how people get hurt, or lost, or worse.”

Wind wrinkles his nose, sighing in defeat. “Yeah, yeah… I get it. I’ll ‘be more careful’ or something,” he agrees, shrugging.

With that settled, the march continues on. Nearly at the ladder, the popup appears once more.

New creature data sent to terminal!

-> read the rest on ao3!

[dreams-of-yunho]

du vin en hiver pt. I

yunho x female reader

rating: m.

genre: new series! smut with a trope twist you all will love!

w.c.: 1.8k

warnings: none for this chapter :)

summary: y/n moves in with her best friend's older brother Yunho and can't help but falling for him.

A sound like glass shattering pierced through the heavy air of the apartment as sleet pelted the windows. The whole building produced an awful moan as stiff rebar shifted against the unforgiving northern wind. Your first day off in months and you couldn’t even escape the isolating and drafty walls of your apartment. 

The TV spat sound nauseatingly loud, attempting to compensate for the severe winter storm raging outside. It was on days like this you wished you could afford a better place. Preferably one with a fireplace and insulated walls. Yet, this was the archetypal university life--broke. Between tuition and paying for this hovel you and your roommate called a home, you pocketed less than nothing. You could take a second job but that would devour your studying time. So this blessing of a day off left you feeling, for lack of a better word, bummed, instead of grateful for the unexpected snow day. 

Normally, you spent as much time out of the home as you could, constantly on your feet, working or studying. Though, you couldn’t call your shared apartment a home. You never felt at home there. The windowsills have gone decades without being resealed allowing the blistering summer heat into the apartment during the summer and bitter, icy wind in the winter. The walls were thin like paper, making it terribly difficult to ignore the neighbor to your east’s morning singing and the neighbors to your west pounding into his girlfriend during the evening hours as you fail to fall asleep. There was no kitchen, forcing you to eat out or make cup ramen for every meal. And, on top of that all, your landlord was a fat, lazy, sexist old man who refused to fix the leaky tap in your so-called bathroom, driving up your water bill and filling the room with a mildew scent. 

It was a one room apartment. Your roommate, having won the right to the room in a game of rock-paper-scissors, left you to sleep on the pullout couch which stretched from wall to opposite wall, taking up much of the living room’s space. You lay bundled in your crumb covered sheets, nose cold and runny, sock covered feet cold and clammy. 

If the tv were not so loud, you would have heard the jingle of keys and the call of your name as your roommate entered the apartment. You did hear, however, the slam of the door as she kicked it shut, phone trapped between her ear and shoulder, a hot drink cup in either hand. 

“Y/N!” You turned your head. “Turn that down! I’m on the phone.” She placed a cup on the barely existent kitchen counter and pointed to the phone in her hand. 

“Okay, Jane!” you yelled back, meeting her obnoxious tone. You reached for the remote and lowered the volume to an acceptable level. But, you weren't even listening to the tv, let alone watching it. It was just white noise. A distraction from the wind and the cold. 

“Hey,” she headed for the bedroom. “It’s my parents!” She shut the door behind her. 

Maybe I should call my parents, you thought. But your phone was charging on the tv stand; out of reach and therefore out of luck. So, you went back to gazing into the abyss, burying yourself in your mind while not thinking at all. In other words, spacing out. 

A while passed, and Jane emerged from her room. She stood in front of you, her frame completely concealed by thick, winter clothes. Even her short, black hair was covered by a beanie to keep her ears warm. “I just got off the phone with my parents-”

“I know,” you interrupted, still buried in sheets. 

“Don’t be grumpy,” she tisked. “This is good news!” Her mood seemed lighter, warmer. “Remember how my brother got a huge promotion last year?”

“No,” you answered the rhetorical question.

She sighed heavily through her nose. “Will you please let me finish telling you the good news? Thank you. Last week, at my family dinner, I couldn’t make it because of work, but my brother was there and he was telling my parents all about the new place he bought last month. Well, my parents told him about our situation and he said he would take us in for the rest of the winter or until we can get a better place.”

Your brow furrowed. “But Jane, we can’t afford a better place. That’s why we live here.”

“Listen, you,” her voice rose an octave as it would if she were talking to a child. “While we're living with Yunho, not paying rent, not paying water bills, not paying electricity bills, we can save money to get a better place.”

“Hmm, I don’t know how I feel about not paying him anything.”

“Dumb dumb,” Jane laughed. “He’s single and working a six-figure job. He has a completely disposable income.” 

“Can we buy the groceries and make the food at least?”

“Noooo,” she whined. “‘Cause then we aren’t effectively saving up. Yunho is a big boy with a big boy job. Let someone treat you for a while.” 

“I don’t know,” you started, your thoughts jumbled from Jane’s proposal.

Jane’s eyes widened and her eyebrows raised, her blush lips stiff in a frown; the look a mother gives as she is about to scold a naughty child. “Y/n,” she moved to sit on the edge of the pull out couch. “This is a good thing,” she said sincerely and whole-heartedly. “This gives us a chance to catch up. We can focus more on our classes and less about making the rent. We’ll be able to relax for the first time since freshman year!”

You regarded her as she spoke with a soft smile.

“If you’re worried about living with Yunho, don’t be. He’s clean, funny, and a really great cook! He wouldn’t try anything with you; you’re my second best friend.”

You hadn’t even thought about the living with a man aspect of this idea. The only man you had ever lived with was your dad so that didn’t count. “I wasn’t worried about it until you brought it up. And what do you mean second?” 

Jane laughed, nudging your shoulder. “My mom says God is my first and forever best friend,” she mocked.

“Ha,” you laughed bitterly, nudging Jane’s ass with your foot. “I really need a smoke.” 

“Fine,” Jane retorted. “But you’re doing this whether you like it or not.”

You rolled your eyes. Jane was always so persistent with you. 

As the bitterness of the winter struck your face and drew the breath from your lungs, you really wish you had never taken up smoking. Taking a deep drag, pulling your coat tightly around your chest, you thought back to the first and only time you had ever met Yunho: Jane’s 20th birthday party. He’s a couple years older than Jane and at this particular party he was completely smashed, constantly hanging on his parents and Jane’s friends, telling them how lucky they were to have Jane in their life. At the time you had just thought of him as Jane’s drunk of an older brother, though, he seemed to have his life together now. That was three years ago. An image of Yunho at the party flashed across your mind; rosy cheeks and joyful smile, drunken words spilling from his wine stained lips. 

Stop, you scolded yourself, dropping your cigarette to the ground and stomming it out before heading back to the building. 

Moving into Yunho’s place, with work and school and a general lack of transportation, took a whole week. But, on that seventh day, as you were turning your key into the landlord, and you knew that would be the last time you saw his razor burned face and beer stained ‘white’ tee, you smiled your first genuine smile in months. A new beginning. 

On the tenth floor of a twelve story residential building, Yunho’s place had an unbelievable view of the sea. It was about 10pm, the sun had set, and a heavy mist, seemingly clinging to the moon, drifted down to the calm waves. 

“Killer view, huh?” You heard a man’s ask behind you.

You turned to see Yunho walking into the living room having arrived home from work. This was the first time you had seen him since that party three years ago and there was definitely some awkwardness in the way you replied: “haha, yeah.”

“Truly, the only reason I was able to afford this place was because the previous owner died in the bathtub. No one found him for a month. There was a huge discount.” He said, placing his bag and coat on the couch. 

You just stared at him, mouth slightly agape. 

He stared back at you, face dead serious until he seemingly couldn’t hold it back anymore and doubled over in laughter. “I’m kidding, I'm kidding. I’m sorry. That was mean.” he walked over to you, his arms spread wide as if he were going to hug you. And he did. A big strong hug which crushed your ribs. “It’s good to see you again,” he released you and you stared up at his towering form, black shaggy hair and perfect lips. 

“You too,” you chuckled, still thrown off by his joke. 

“How long has it been,” he stared off, thinking. “Jane’s party, right? Gosh, too long.” 

“Yeah,” you agreed.

“Have you settled in fine?” He asked, walking over to the kitchen. “Sorry I wasn’t here to help you move in. I feel really bad about that,” he rubbed the back of his head, a blush forming on his cheeks. Was he embarrassed? 

“It’s fine. I didn’t have much to move anyway,” you lied, thinking about box after box you lugged across town. 

“Well, regardless, I wish I could’ve helped.”

The barstool screeched against the floor as you pulled it away from the breakfast bar. “Really, it wasn’t a problem. I’m just very grateful to be welcomed into your home.” 

He poured a glass of water and slid it across the counter to you. “Anything for my little sister and her friend,” he beamed, that same drunken smile. He then proceeded to chug a glass of water, slamming the glass down near the sink. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to say goodnight,” he gathered his things from the couch. “Another night and I would have offered you a drink but I have an early morning tomorrow and I just know I would stay up all night chatting with you.” He turned his back to you, headed towards his bedroom down the hall, his arm raised in a wave. “Goodnight.” He called. 

“Goodnight,” you answered. Sitting at the bar, twiddling your thumbs, staring at that empty glass, you thought you could at least keep his home clean to show your gratitude. Dribbling a small amount of blue dish soap onto a damp sponge, you begin to wash the glass, mind drifting off into the night sky out the kitchen window. The image of his smile brought a blush to your cheeks. His cheerful voice wishing you a goodnight. Shit, you cursed yourself before drying the glass and heading off to bed.

[egcdeath]

ways to say i love you without saying “i love you”

pairing: steve rogers x reader

summary: you and steve explore love languages

word count: 5.1k

warnings: fluff, a little angst because of miscommunications, reader & steve being idiots, good intentions but terrible delivery, mentions of other characters

author’s note: this fic has been sitting unfinished in my drafts for so long. this fic is like, ancient. this fic was almost destroyed because it was briefly in the library of alexandria. when i reopened the document with this fic, there were mold spores growing on it. (p.s. steve’s love langauge is acts of service, and the reader’s is quality time)

you can find my masterlist and taglist here

Prologue

Steve was a multitasker. You knew this well. Perhaps too well.

That never seemed to bother you before, but if the man who was supposed to be taking a serene nature walk with you checked his goddamn flip phone one more time, you were completely sure that you’d lose it. 

You paused your story about your obnoxious coworkers for a moment, stopping in the middle of the gravelly trail you two were making your way down. 

“Steve, seriously, are you even listening?” you griped, ushering him towards the side of the pavement as a man on a bike flew by. 

He guffawed a bit at this, “of course I am. You just said something about…” he paused, and you gestured with your hands for him to continue. “Okay, sorry,” the blush on his face was becoming more and more apparent.

You involuntarily scoffed, rolling your eyes as you did so, “I’m glad to know that whatever you’re waiting for on there,” you gestured to his pocket, “is more important than spending quality time with your girlfriend, who, must I remind you, took time off to be here with you.”

“Nothing is more important to me than you, I’m just on call. I’m probably going to get called to go on a mission any moment now.”

“Steve!” you huffed, “you literally just got back, like, two hours ago. Can’t someone else go? Tony? Vision? Anyone?”

“I might’ve volunteered myself-“

“You’re unbelievable, Steve. Are you getting tired of me or something? You’ve been avoiding me like the plague ever since I moved in with you. If I upset you, or you’re gonna propose to me or something, can you just tell me?”

“I promise you it’s not personal at all,” he reached for your hand and gently held it. “Everything’s just been crazy. I mean, these Hydra bases have been popping up left and right. Just give me a little grace, okay? I don’t get upset with you when SHIELD starts making you work those ungodly hours.”

You opened your mouth to debate him, but surely enough, the canny and familiar ringtone of Steve’s work phone interrupted you before you could even begin. 

“Okay… Yeah. I’ll be there in thirty.”

You frowned at Steve as he spoke on the phone and shook your head disapprovingly, “unbelievable,” you muttered, storming in the direction of your home. 

——

Steve was no fool, he knew when he messed up, and he was more than willing to take responsibility for such. Now was one of those times. He knew that he should’ve been making more time for you. He was well aware that he shouldn’t have gotten defensive when you pointed this out. 

He just had no idea how to apologize.

You weren’t exactly making it easy for him either, taking much longer hours in an attempt to avoid him. While he could understand your frustrations, it became a little more difficult everyday for him to properly apologize to you in a way he felt was meaningful.

Eventually figuring to use your avoidance as a tool, Steve devised a plot to make an apology for you so considerate, so superb, that you could never be angry with him again. A plot that included a several course meal, all concocted by himself. 

He could imagine the look on your face as you came home from work, shocked, but the good kind of shock. Pleasantly surprised that your sweet boyfriend had put in such a huge amount of effort to say sorry. 

He couldn’t help but imagine the scenario: you would relax into your seat at the table after Steve pulled out the chair for you, hum in content as he poured your favorite wine. Moan happily at the taste of a homemade and rarely prepared salad dressing, before complimenting the melt-in-your-mouth entree he had spent an unknown amount of time laboring over. Finally, you’d gush over the dessert that Steve hadn’t had the chance to cook in years, tell him that he worked far too hard putting everything together, especially for a little argument. Steve would scoff, tell you you’re being too kind, and you would pull him in for a red wine and dark chocolate flavored kiss. 

The thought of you, your genuine and warm smile after a long day at work, and an even longer week worth of unspoken tension between you both, was enough to keep Steve motivated through the hours he spent preparing your meal.

He greeted you at the door like an excited puppy as soon as he heard your keys jingle. Sure, work had kept you a bit longer than he’d expected, and your food was likely a little cool by now, but he was excited to make amends. 

However, you did not seem to share the same enthusiasm as Steve. 

“Welcome home, gorgeous. Come sit,” Steve nudged you into the dining area, and you sluggishly followed, exhausted from a tiring day of training new agents.

“What’s wrong?” he inquired, pulling out a chair that you didn’t even attempt to sit down on. 

“I had a really long day. I kinda just wanna get to bed,” you shrugged before rubbing your creased temple.

Steve internally cringed at the thought of all of his hard work going to waste. For some reason, he’d not envisioned this less pleasant outcome before. “Sweetheart,” he began in a nearly whiny tone, but you weren’t in much of a mood to be persuaded.

“I’m sorry. Weird things were happening at work that I don’t care to get into now, and honestly, I’m not even that hungry,” you reached out and gave Steve’s hand a little squeeze. “But it all looks and smells so good! I Promise I’ll warm some up tomorrow for lunch.”

“I-,” he paused, “please. Maybe you could just take a few bites of everything. It took me a really long time to get everything prepped and ready.”

You frowned at the plea, feeling a bit guilty but almost… satisfied at the same time. Steve struggled to make time for you because of his work, and now he was getting a little taste of his own medicine. 

“I really am sorry. But hey, now we’re even?” you offered with a playful wink, slipping away before you gave your partner a chance to respond. You truly didn’t have the energy for a four course meal that night, let alone another argument. 

——

Wanda was silent for a moment as she sipped from a mug of coffee, watching you with a suspiciously focused look on her face. 

“Wanda?” you prompted, seemingly snapping her out of whatever trance she had found herself in. 

“Oh my God, I know exactly what you guys need,” she just about blurted, reaching across the café table to grab your hand. 

“Were you reading my mind?”

Your friend didn’t respond, but the devious smirk on her face was enough of an answer. 

“What happened to telling me before reading me?”

“You just looked like there was a lot on your mind. And absolutely no way that you’d tell me,” she shrugged nonchalantly.

“Of course I was gonna tell you! Why else would I ask my friend in a cute relationship to meet me for coffee?”

“Because you like me?”

“No, never that. I just needed advice,” the two of you shared a laugh for a moment.

“Well don’t waste your breath. When Vis and I had a rough patch, we just had to learn each other’s love languages. You’d be surprised just how much that synthezoid values those acts of services.”

“And you?”

“I’m a words of affirmation girl myself,” she shrugged. “You should find out yours, and try to figure out Steve’s. I guarantee it’ll be helpful in the long run. I can send you guys a test, if you want?”

“Oh god no, please don’t tell him that I told you about us. Actually, I didn’t even tell you! You were digging around in my brain, and I don’t appreciate that. Just do me a favor, and don’t share this with anyone, okay?” You paused dramatically, then leaned in to speak to your friend in a whisper, “but send me that test when you get the chance.”

Gift Giving

“A little reality-warping birdie told me you’ve been having some relationship problems,” Tony said teasingly once Bruce left the conference room, leaving him and Steve alone. 

Steve paused for a moment, trying to decide whether he should lie or fess up to the allegation. “How did she know?” Steve finally responded, standing up and pushing the chair he was sitting on behind him. 

Tony shrugged dismissively, “I don’t ask these kinds of things. I just hear in passing that the geriatric is having a hard time and tune in.”

Steve shook his head slightly, rolling his eyes to mask his clear embarrassment. 

“Well, is it true?”

“We’ve just been having the occasional… rift. A little more than occasionally.”

Tony nodded, fake pondering the situation, “well, I always know what I do for Pep, at least after I tell her I’m getting rid of the suit. Go buy her something nice. Really nice, like jewelry, or a purse if she’s into that kind of thing. I would say a car, but I know that Social Security check isn’t getting you too far. You know what? Put it on the company card. My treat.”

Steve wanted to scoff, turn his nose up at the offer like it was a terrible idea, but it really wasn’t. Maybe a material surprise was the way to win you back. He made a soft ‘hmph,’ noise as he mulled it over. “That’s definitely not your worst idea. Thanks,” he gave his teammate a soft smile before collecting himself and heading out of the conference room. 

His first stop after work was some local jeweler. Steve threw on a (not very) inconspicuous outfit before entering the building, where he browsed for a good hour, searching for something that he believed you’d like. After looking at more jewelry than he had ever cared to see in his life, he decided on a necklace with a thin golden chain with a decent sized diamond hanging off of it. It was a little pricier, and you’d be able to tell— but he hoped it would help the gift mean more to you. 

——

When you arrived home late that night, Steve was sitting in the living room waiting for you. It was almost daunting, the sight of him sitting alone on the couch mostly in the dark, only the television illuminating his face. He kind of reminded you of a parent waiting to confront their child who just snuck out, or a concerned friend seconds away from staging an intervention with you. 

Walking past the room, you peeked your head through the doorway, and observed the flat, small box in front of him on the coffee table. 

“Hey, Sweetheart,” he greeted, standing up so he could greet you with a hug and grabbing the little box as he did so.

“Is everything okay?” you probed, speaking into Steve’s shoulder.

“Of course. I just wanted you to know how much I love you, and that I’m sorry for not having as much time for you as I should,” he pulled away before holding the box out for you. 

You hesitantly took the box and opened it, letting out a gasp when you viewed the delicate looking gold necklace. 

You were having mixed emotions, because it was clearly beautiful and you were grateful to the gesture. But you knew that this must’ve been expensive, and that it was so unlike Steve to have done something like this. Your frugal, Great Depression era guy wasn’t exactly the most material. 

“I love it,” you gushed, admiring the jewelry. 

“Can I put it on you?” Steve asked, and received a nod in return.

Steve set the box down on the table and lifted up the necklace, bringing it up to your neck and focusing on clasping it in the back.

“Babe, how much was this?” you blurted, not even being able to filter the words before they left your mouth. 

“Hmm? That doesn’t matter,” he dismissed, then stepped away from you to admire your clavicle. 

“It just feels weird letting you spend so much on me.”

“It’s a gift, though. You’re not supposed to think about those things,” he hummed, pressing a chaste peck to your nose. 

“Steve, I got you a Nespresso for Christmas and you wouldn’t stop complaining about how expensive it was. I love it, I really do. It’s beautiful and I’ll always think of you when I wear it. I just think that maybe we should have the same standards for each other,” you stood up from your seat and sidestepped him. “I need a shower.”

Steve watched you walk off, letting your words simmer in his thoughts.

That was the last time he would take relationship advice from Tony. 

Words of Affirmation

This conclusion probably shouldn’t have taken you this long, but you were almost completely sure that this would be the love language to win Steve back over. You felt bad for some of the occurrences between the two of you lately, with sour exchanges and sweet moments that turned bitter on a whim.

In all honesty, you were concerned that Steve doubted your love for him. And if his love language really was words of affirmation, this would certainly convince him otherwise. 

You sat at your desk the night before Steve departed for a two-week mission, trying to write a nice message for him. You tapped your pen on the stock paper in deep thought as you tried to figure out the best thing to say. 

I’m sorry for arguing so much with you lately. You and everything that you do mean the world to me, even when you get on my nerves. I love you more than anything and that will never change. 

The words looked cramped and unkempt on the little note. Your handwriting got messier as you went. You groaned at it, crumpled the paper, and tossed it in your trash bin. Time to start over again.

I’m sorry for arguing with you. I love you a lot. Can you stop picking up your phone when we’re spending time together?

You groaned at the passive aggressive tone of your message. That certainly wasn’t going to get you anywhere. Straight to the bin it goes.

I love you so much so don’t die on your mission or I’ll be pretty upset. Be safe out there xx.

The tone was even more off now. You needed to think of something that would really make Steve remember you while he was gone. For a second, you considered snapping a nude with a polaroid and attaching it to the letter.

I’m sorry that things have been so bad nasty for us lately. I promise that I love you, despite our ups and downs. Nothing will ever change that. I’ll miss you more than you know while you’re gone. Make sure you call me every day, my love. 

A little cheesy, but you signed off with your name regardless, and contentedly looked at your work. The spacing looked correct, the tone wasn’t harsh, and you knew for a fact that Steve would appreciate it.

You stayed up a little later than normal, waiting for Steve to get home and change out of his ‘work clothes’ so that you could slip the note into his utility belt. 

You folded the note to a small little square and set it beside an granola bar in a pocket you’d assumed he frequently used. Content with your work, you laid back in bed until your partner slipped in bed beside you, and sleepily cuddled into you until you were both unconscious. 

—

Around two weeks had passed since Steve had seen you last, and he had decided to stop by the office and finish up paperwork before coming to see you. It had been radio silence on his end, despite the note in his clothing that clearly requested daily contact. Part of you wondered if Steve had seen it at all.

Steve had just finished signing the documents when he finally noticed it, reaching into a sparsely used part of his belt to have a quick snack. His hand landed on a folded piece of paper, and he cringed as he unfolded it, the letter becoming clearer and clearer as he did so. He wondered just how long the message had been waiting for him. 

He read your sweet words with a frown on his face, the guilt from not opening it sooner overriding the sweet feelings that he would otherwise have. He grabbed his phone and considered texting you, but abandoned that thought altogether. 

“FRIDAY, any idea where Y/N is right now?”

“I was told not to share any information about Ms. L/N, Captain Rogers.”

“Whose orders?” Steve pressed.

“Hers,” the bot quipped back. 

Steve groaned aloud. He was really in for it tonight.

Physical Touch

“Have you tried touching her more?” Thor casually queried. The water that Steve had just consumed nearly flew out of his nose, and his cheeks reddened instantly. 

“Pardon?” he asked, looking away from his friend instantly. 

“I understand that you and Y/N have been having troubles lately. Perhaps she does not feel held by you. Maybe she wants you to show her off in public, to hold her hand, hug her,” he suggested. 

Could Steve even be blamed for going there? He was having a chat with a god of fertility. Who wouldn’t think the same? 

“Stark’s gala tonight. Show the world that she’s yours, and I guarantee that she’ll love every moment of it.”

——

You were confused. Really confused.

The night began with some simple touches, hand holding as you entered the building, a casual arm around your waist as you chatted with donors and politicians you hadn’t seen in months, a playful match of footsie under the table while waiting for food. But it came to a head when Steve had decided to rest his hand on your ass and grope you in the midst of a conversation.

Now, in any other situation, you would welcome this affection. But both you and Steve had never been a fan of PDA, and this was a bit too far. 

As subtle as you could manage, you pushed his hand away, offering him a sour look as you did so. 

“Excuse us,” you told some rich old man in an artificially sweet tone before ushering Steve off to his office for a bit more privacy.

“What was that about?” you questioned, sitting down in the padded chair behind Steve’s desk, and running your fingers over your necklace in a bit of a nervous tick. 

“What do you mean?” he retorted, standing across from you at the desk and setting his hands on top of the clear table.

“Why were you groping me in front of people? That’s really... unlike you. And it made me uncomfortable.”

Steve frowned genuinely, looking down at the table in embarrassment. “I’m really sorry. For making you uncomfortable. It sounds ridiculous but I was just trying something new.”

“Apology accepted, but are you sure? You weren’t like, jealous of those guys or something? You know you’re the only hundred year old I have eyes for,” you set your hands atop of his and squeezed.

Steve chuckled at this, the flush of his cheeks only highlighted more by the laughter, “it’s just that, uh, Thor told me I should try showing you off more. Or something like that.”

“So you groped me in front of our guests? That’s silly. And a little unprofessional,” you glanced over at the cork board on his desk sitting next to his desktop, and amongst the neatly arranged scratched out to-do lists and random reminders, you couldn’t help but notice the creased paper of the note you’d left for his mission. Your chest warmed when your eyes fell upon it. 

“When did you find this thing?” you asked, pointing to the note. 

“I meant to say something, but when I found it, FRIDAY said you didn’t want to talk to me. SO I was going to bring it up when I got home, but you were still working. After that, I kinda… you know-”

“Forgot?” you finished with a hearty laugh, “It’s fine. You’re such a dork. C’mere so I can get my own groping in,” you chided, grinning to yourself when Steve wrapped his arms around you in a tight embrace. 

Acts of Service

Steve was quietly folding your laundry in your bedroom when it finally occurred to you, but when it did, it hit like a ton of bricks.

Steve’s love language was acts of service!

Things suddenly began to make sense to you, the way that he initially attempted to apologize by spending hours cooking one meal, how he consistently worked to make your life as comfortable as possible, and his great insistence to do house chores, despite you being more than capable.

Steve set down a stack of folded sweatshirts by your calf, snapping you away from your brief retrospective daze. If that really was the case, and Steve’s love language truly was acts of kindness, you had to come up with some sort of plan to communicate to him just how much you cared about him in a way that he really appreciated.

Luckily for you, you were a quick thinker. Before you even knew it, a week filled with random acts of kindness before he was off on yet another mission was quickly hatched.

——

You were up at the ass-crack of dawn. Really. Steve liked to get up earlier than the sun in order to run, or train, or whatever the hell it was that superheroes did. You were seriously regretting your decision to wake up around the same time as him in order to do some favors for him in the morning. 

By the time Steve was back from his run, his favorite coffee was brewed and cooling, and you were in the laundry room at the dryer, preparing to give Steve a warm towel after his shower.

Despite the three mugs of coffee you’d just downed, it was becoming more and more difficult to keep your eyes open. It didn’t help that your eyelids felt like they weighed fifty pounds each, and the warmth of the dryer next to you was providing you with just enough comfort to drift off.

And drift you did. In fact, half an hour later, you’d missed the frantic calling out for you from your boyfriend as he searched for you around the apartment. 

You finally awoke when he shook your shoulders, his amused voice bringing you back to consciousness. 

“What’s going on here?” Steve grinned, pushing some hair out of your face. 

“Mmm,” you began, “Iwantedtogetawarmtowel,” you slurred sleepily and incoherently.

“Even with super hearing I couldn’t decipher that. Let’s get you a mattress, okay?” Steve hoisted you up like you were nothing, and carried your half asleep body all the way up to your bedroom. 

The next thing you knew, you were buried under your favorite comforter and propped against a mountain of feathery pillows. A gentle forehead kiss and an incomprehensible sentence about calling off of work for you later, you were back in a deep sleep. 

So much for warm towels.

—

You were going to do better this time. That’s what you told yourself as you strolled through the grocery store, the same store that you hadn’t shopped in since moving in with Steve, as he preferred to do the shopping himself.

Equipped with a short paper list and sheer determination to make the trip as short and accurate as possible, you gathered all of the groceries that you believed were necessary— just enough to restock the fridge, and fill some gaps left in the cupboard. 

Your time at the store was indeed brief, as you found yourself in the checkout lane after just twenty minutes (you definitely weren’t going to brag about that to Steve later. Definitely not), and back home with just enough time to unload the groceries, and further prep yourself to go to work. 

You’d honestly forgotten about your trip to the store by the time that you arrived home, up until you found your boyfriend arm deep in your pantry, hellbent on finding… something.

“Can I help you?” you poked with a laugh, coming up beside Steve and peeking over his shoulder.

“I’m just… Did you happen to grab any protein bars while you were at the store?” he asked, pausing his search to look back at you.

“I don’t think so. Why? It’s not like you need any more protein,” you teased, squeezing a bicep to demonstrate your words.

“They’re pretty convenient when I’m out in the field. Don’t worry about it, though. I’ll just swing by the store and grab some before my mission tomorrow. Actually, I should probably go now. Y’know, before I forget,” Steve was already grabbing his car keys from the counter by the time his sentence was finished, leaving you to fight off your disappointment at your minor grocery store failure.

You looked at what you now knew was an insufficiently filled pantry and pinched the bridge of your nose. You had seriously underestimated the ins and outs of shopping for a super soldier. 

Well, third time’s the charm?

—

After this week, you would never complain about waking up early again. You were now up at an absolutely ungodly hour, scrambling eggs, flipping pancakes, and spreading jam on toast for a sleeping, unsuspecting Steve.

You placed the plate on a sturdy wooden tray, poured orange juice and an extra glass of water, and set a nicely folded napkin, along with utensils, next to the items.

You hoped that the scent of bacon wafting up to your bedroom would eventually pull him out of his slumber, and seeing how bacon was the only thing left to finish cooking, you took a little break. 

A round of Candy Crush turned into two, then three, and goddamnit, why can’t you beat this fourth level! You got so wrapped up in your mobile game that you didn’t even notice when the scent from your kitchen became slightly rancid, and when you rushed over to the oven to check on your now extremely burnt bacon, the smoke detector wailed.

You grabbed a kitchen towel and waved your arms like a madwoman near the smoke detector, the shrieking eventually stopping, but not before Steve was halfway down the stairs.

“Y/N, where are you? Is everything okay?” he nearly shouted, racing down the stairs and barreling through the smoky kitchen to find you. When he reached you, he wrapped his arms around your waist and began to pull you out of the kitchen. 

“Steve, relax. Everything is okay. Except those pieces of bacon,” you rubbed your now sweaty palms on your pajama pants before breaking away from him to crack open the kitchen window. 

“Christ, what happened? And why are you up so early?”

“I was trying to make you breakfast in bed,” you admitted, rather embarrassed by the dramatic scene you’d accidentally created. “Sorry,” you muttered.

Steve wrapped his arms around you once more, this time in a reassuring bear hug that left your cheeks pressed to his chest. “Don’t be. I really appreciate this, and everything else you’ve done this week. It’s the thought that counts, right?”

“I guess,” you mumbled into his shirt. 

“Besides, everything else looks delicious. And you tried your best for me while trying something new. I think that’s really sweet of you.”

“Really?” you pried, looking up at him.

“Really,” Steve confirmed.

“Well, I think it would be really sweet of you if you went back to bed and got all cozy so I can take care of you.”

Steve chuckled softly, pressed a little kiss to your nose, then nodded, “yes ma’am.”

Quality Time

Steve had been in a bubbly mood since getting back from his mission, and for no particular reason. It wasn’t like you weren’t happy that your partner was happy, but feeling like you were out of the loop was slightly concerning.

Before you could let your thoughts run too wild, you decided to pop the question during one of your evening walks. 

“Okay Steve, what is going on with you?” you asked, veering to the side of the trail when a biker rode past you. 

“Nothing big. Nothing too important. I’m just out of service for the next three months,” Steve said casually, playing it cool. 

“What?!” you paused, your brows raising and eyes widening in surprise as you searched his face for sincerity. “You’re serious?”

“Serious as a heart attack.”

“Steve!” you gasped happily, nearly roaring out his name in excitement. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“I was going to tell you before wining and dining you, but you beat me to it. So…?”

“…So I’m happy to have you back. I may need you to negotiate some time away from work for me in the next few months, then. I don’t wanna miss this preview of stay-at-home-dad-Steve.”

“Hey, don’t push it.”

“Oh, I’m planning on pushing it.” 

Epilogue

The sun was beating down on you, but the soothing breeze that flowed past your checked blanket every so often provided a pleasant antidote to the summer heat.

You’d truly picked the best day for a picnic.

Despite spending a good amount of time with your partner, the last month and a half had truly felt like a whirlwind. You casually started looking for a forever home, found yourselves making plans for an early retirement, and you had a new, sneaking suspicion that a proposal was on the horizon.

In the midst of it all, Steve had suggested that the two of you take a midday tryst at your local park and throw yourselves a little picnic. Of course you obliged, because when your greek god of a boyfriend suggests going on a spur of the moment date, you agree.

You now watched the nearly cloudless sky with pure, unadulterated feelings of content and joy while Steve set a slice of cheese on a cracker, leaning over your body to feed you. As you opened your mouth, Steve paused abruptly at the soft vibration coming from his pocket. 

Steve resumed as if nothing had changed, popping the cracker into your open mouth and letting his phone continue to ring.

“Don’t you wanna get that?” you questioned.

“It can wait,” Steve stated nonchalantly, slipping his phone out of his pocket and pressing decline with absolutely no hesitation before tossing the device to the edge of your blanket.

You didn’t realize how long you’d been waiting to hear those three words.

-------

a/n: this could’ve been solved in like 20 minutes by sitting down and taking a love language quiz together

[childish-ish]

Yoo! *hands you subway sandwich* I absolutely loved the soulmate AU with Micheal making choices for each other. And I was wondering (if you can/want) what would it be like for Billy Lenz.

hii *fucking devours subway sandwich* thank u so much i love u <3 i would love to write for him! sorry if hes ooc :<

sorry it took so long too, i thought it said lOOMIS AND I LOOK BACK AND IT SAYS LENZ LMFAAAOOOOOOOO then i procrastinated xd its super awkward and weird, im sorry!! i tried- i was on major fucking writers block!!

bro u made me eat a bug dont talk to me

soulmate au.. makin choices fo eachother..

billy lenz x reader

also, just imagine like. a party right before christmas and they dont call the police to help them rather do it themselves, but then 1 girl calls and they're on their way at the end.. ya dig? ALSO I KNOW ITS HIS HOME BUT I DIDNT HAVE AN IDEA SO xd

"Hello?" You answer the phone politely, looking over your notes before closing the book as you wait in silence for a reply on the other line. "Hellooo?" You drag out the 'o' in hello.

"Y/n? Hey, hows'it going. Listen i have this party goin' on and I know you don't have jack-shit to do, so, why don't you come on over?"

Barb! Ah, that bitch.. should i? You thought over the pros and cons as Barb waited impatiently on the other line.

soulmate chooses: go to party.

"Yeah, I'm coming. Streets?" You ask, opening your notebook back up, flipping to a blank page as Barb told you the address. You hang up on the girl and rip the piece of paper off, holding it between your teeth as you lift yourself from your cushioned chair, grabbing your coat that hung on the back and quickly stuffed the address in the pocket of your coat.

eat bug or do not eat bug.

You furrow your eyebrows at the choices. Before choosing 'do not eat the bug'. What the fuck?

Of course you would choose not to eat the fucking bug. You weren't a dick. But your fucking soulmate was. You were totally gonna beat their fucking ass for choosing such choices.

You sigh, grabbing your coat on the way out. Your necessities jingling in your pockets of said coat. You shove your hand in, dragging out your keys, turning around to lock your door. Sighing once more, as you enter your car and start the ignition. You pull out the address. "Can't be too hard, can it?" You mutter, finally pulling out of your driveway.

"Hello!" You wiggle your fingers as a small wave at the unrecognizable woman who opened the door. "Hello." Sge greeted back softly. "Are you a friend of Barbs'?"

"You betcha!"

"Well, I'm Jess! It's a pleasure to meet you.. come on in!" Jess opened the door wider. You see a few other girls chatting lively. A glass or a beer bottle in their hands. You follow Jess.

"Y/n! You made it! Good job." Barb greeted you, immediately handing you a beer you watched her pop open. You grab it, took a gulp, and thanked her.

You spot an ant crawling on the counter by you. Jess and Barb began to argue softly. Background noise.. You debate on whether to wipe it up and eat it. You shake your heads of the thoughts to rid of the possibility of your soulmate choosing-

eat the ant.

You growl under your breath, crushing the ant under your index finger and wiping it off on your tongue. You swallow it with your spit.

Im totally beating my soulmates fucking ass.. you thought angrily, chugging the rest of your piss-tasting beer. Chug, chug, chug! You cheer yourself on.

soulmate chooses: chug.

You chuckle before downing the rest of your cheap beer. Barb hands you another wordlessly. A smirk planted on her lips as she watches you down another.

"You should really slow down, Y/n."

"Eeh come on, Jess." Barb rolled her eyes, tossing an empty bottle into the trashcan. "Her soulmate probably made her chug." Barb defends poorly.

"I suppose.. how about you chug some water?"

"Yeah.. that'd be best. I'm already feeling a fucking buzz!" You laugh, being the lightweight you were.

Soon. You had awoke in a extremely comfortable bed with a small headache.

"It's so quiet.." You mutter to yourself. Dragging your hand over your face before quickly pulling away, realising you already had acne that was beginning to sprout. You stare at the ceiling, glancing at the window. Still night-time. You turn your head to the nightstand. The lamp was on. A small glass of water.

"Awh." You smile at the thought of one of the girls leaving a cup of water for you, quietly closing the door behind them. You immediately sit up and chug the water, tossing in the two pills that lied on a small napkin right next to it. You swallow, lathering the pills up in your spit.

You stretch your arms over your head, before falling back onto the plush mattress layered in bedding. You sigh, before finally deciding that it was time to get up and see what was going on downstairs. If you were even upstairs.. you cant tell. Maybe you were downstairs? You continued your train of thought as you closed the door behind you politely. Not bothering to take the glass with you.

You continue down the stairs, hand sliding down the railing as you slowly step down each step, before noticing the sticky, yet not sticky liquid your hand laid in. "The fuck? Strawberry syrup, L-O-L." You lift it up to your lips, licking. Clearly not thinking as the taste registered.

"Pennies. Blood? Oops." You wipe your fingers off on your shirt, quickly continuing down the stairs. "Baaarrrb?!" You call out, awkwardly. "Oh. Who's the shit-face drunk lying on the floor." You step closer towards the dining area. "Barb? You fucking drunk." You snicker.

soulmate chooses: kick her.

You do so. Not like you had any choice yourself. Kicking her lightly in the stomach, you step away. "What the fuck?!" You shriek, slapping the hand that was placed in your shoulder. You turn around to face a rugged man in a dark sweater and black pants. no shoes? Yet socks on his feet.. "Who are you?!"

The person before you didn't answer before lifting up a single hand thay held a.. glass unicorn? The tip of the horn was covered in a red substance. You could only assume strawberry syrup once more.

"Murderer!" You shriek, grabbing the lamp next to you and chucked it at the offending man who barely dodged it. He screamed back in response before lunging at you; successfully tackling you to the carpet rug.

"I can't believe you, are my soulmate.. well no, i can." You place your index finger on your chin in a thoughtful manner as you stare at the ceiling. "Are you?"

"billy made you eat an ant." he snickers horridly in your ear.

As, Billy, with the biggest cock known to man, squabbled and licked the shell of your ear, muttering about pigs and boobs and pussies, you nod to yourself.

"I can just hand you over to the police, no problem." You hug yourself. "But could I, really? My soulmate. Who has killed people.. Barb. God, you fucking cunt!" You screech, rolling away from him, just to jump back on the wide-eyed motherfucker, wrapping your hands around his neck and your cunt being right over his crotch. Haha.

He gasped for air, short, uneven nails scratch at your hands.

Tables were turned, and you were back on the floor with Billy over you, screaming out profanities.

"I'm sorry, Billy." You apologize falsely. Tears streaming down to your ears, since, you were on the floor.. gravity? "You killed my friend, man. I didn't even know her that long!"

Billy leans over and licks the tears away. You flinch away, before he pulls you into his lap awkwardly, his head dipped down into the crevice of your neck and sniffed loudly before giggling to himself.

"Billy's pretty little pig. Billy's. Pretty pig. Pretty cunt. Pretty, pretty, pretty." He mutters, an odd sense of nostalgia washed over you, catching an odd scent that activated said nostalgia.

"Move bitch. Let me get fucking comfortable." You snap, pulling out of his hold and turning your body around to face him. Crotch to crotch as you wrap your legs above his own.. does this make sense? You wrap your legs around his and he crosses his legs, wrapping his arms around you tightly as you fiddle with his hair.

"Man, you are such a fucking dick. Making me do all those fucking things while i chose nice things for you.." You lay your head on his shoulder. Very much stinky, yes.

"We should dip though. Didn't one of the girls call the police while yo' dumb-fucking-ass was suffocating one?" You pull away, getting a good look at his face.

You wouldn't say he was.. handsome.. but you certainly wouldn't say he was ugly. His skin was.. a sickly pale yellow. His.. fuckimg huge brown eyes stared at you. His cracked lips were curled into a unnerving smile.

soulmate chooses: leave.

"Yeah. Let's go." You stand, offering him a hand.

Billy's blood coated calloused hand makes contact with your own. You gag, covering your lips with your free-hand. "Fucking disgusting." You mutter in disgust, enduring it for the sake of your new partner.

You shove Billy in the back of your car, slamming the door shut and sprinting to the other side, just to slip right before you put your hand on the door.

You swing it open angrily, sitting down and starting the ignition, ignoring Billy's giggles and mutters as he peers out the window like a little kid looking at snow for the first time.

break the window or tap obnoxiously.

You roll your eyes, the hint of a smile plastered onto your lips.

tap obnoxiously.

[wordynerdygurl]

A Wonderful Christmastime

Author’s Note:  Well Hello All!  I hope that you’re all taking care of yourselves and staying well!  My tag-list is open and you know I love the validation of reblogs, shares, tags and adds!! I have been working on a larger OC story which has kept my from my Loki writings, but I entered a challenge posted by @toomanystoriessolittletime​ for the Christmas holiday.  If you aren’t following, please do as she’s got a great little Advent Calendar of seasonal stories for you!  One a day through the month of December!  

I chose a prompt based off of my least favorite Christmas song.  Ever.  Like in the history of humanity.  Like, my family torture me with it because of how much I dislike it.  This story is a chance to take a little lighthearted revenge on Sir Paul McCartney and also, hopefully, help you all enjoy a Wonderful Christmastime!   Also, isn’t this gif the cutest thing in the world?  My thanks to the OP and creator for it... it’s amazing and I love Christmas Loki!! Pairing:  Female Reader x Loki

Summary:  Everyone has a favorite holiday song... when Loki learns which one you dislike, he uses it to his advantage. Warnings:  Christmas holiday mentions, SMUT, Oral (F receiving) and MF Sex, also, the over use of a certain song that makes me, personally, crazy!

This was it.  That perfect moment when all of the holiday hustle was behind you.  Nothing to buy, nothing to ship, nothing to wrap, nothing to bake.  It was all over.  You had made it through another Christmas Eve.

Your well decorated tree sat in the corner, presents tucked below for you and Loki in the morning.  The frittata was resting in the fridge along with the two bottles of Prosecco you planned to have with brunch.  Hell, it was the holidays, after all.

But that was for tomorrow.

Tonight you were relaxing after an afternoon of family Christmas fun.  Nieces and nephews, piles of shredded paper, stacks of snacks and so much laughter your belly muscles were sore.  And through it all Loki had been a champ! Holding your hand, rubbing the small of your back, pulling out your chair; Loki had put the other partners to shame.  Whether he was telling bawdy but tasteful jokes to the men who drank cheap beer around the TV, sharing hair care tips with your sister’s oldest girl or whispering with your mom in the kitchen, he was always where he needed to be.  For the first time in ages, you had been able to enjoy the day fully, and you knew Loki was the reason why. After getting home, trading your dress and boots for comfy shorts and a sweatshirt, you padded into the living room.  Loki was there, sitting cross legged, digging through your bag of swag.  He had put seasonal music on in the background while munching through a plate of Auntie’s sugar cookies, two well poured goblets of red wine waiting to be had at his side.  God, he was good. “Is one of those for me?”  You couldn’t help smiling.  Loki, looking like a little kid, over excited and surrounded by all the trapping of Christmas just felt so precious. It took him a moment to reply as he was solely focused on the handmade puzzle box your mother had crafted for all the guys this year, “Hmm?  Yes… one’s for you…” Kissing the top of his head, careful not to dislodge his Rudolf blinking antler headband, a gift to Loki from your youngest nephew, you moved towards the couch.  Sipping from your glass of wine, snuggled under the softest chenille blanket your sister-in-law could find, you sighed contentedly.  Victory over the holiday season felt amazing.  Now all that was left on your to-do list was eating, drinking, and enjoying alone time with Loki until New Year’s.  Suddenly exhausted, you felt the lovely warm drag of drowsiness and snuggled deeper into the sofa.  Shuttering your tired eyes, you listened as Loki stood up, off to hunt up some more food, no doubt.  Visions of sugarplums danced in your head as you started to succumb to a sweet slumber. That’s when you heard it.  

“The moon is right, The spirit’s up, We’re here tonight and that’s enough…” Groaning, wide awake now, you sat up with a shout, “Loki?!”  Like magic his raven head popped around the doorframe, his reindeer antlers askew, a candy cane hanging out of his mouth, “Yes?”

“Um… question:  What are we listening to?” Stepping back into the living room, his new holiday flannel shirt open at the neck, Loki leaned over you, husking playfully,  “Music.  At least, that’s what I believe you Midgardians call it.” “Ha ha.  Yes, I know it’s music, but this particular song?”  You couldn’t keep the tartness from your tone as you pressed your nose into the handsome one on Loki’s face. Pausing, listening intently, Loki cocked his head to the side.  Singing along, his bells jingling, “Simply having a Wonderful Christmastime!” “Ugh.  That’s what I was afraid of!”  Flinging a hand over your eyes, you grumbled, burrowing back into the cozy couch as a means of blocking out the obnoxious noise of the worst holiday song in the history of humanity. Making himself comfortable at your feet, pouring himself another glass of vino, “I like it.  It’s simple.  Direct.  What are you doing?  Me?  I’m simply having a wonderful Christmastime!” From deep in the cushions, muffled but forceful, you pleaded, “Make it stop!  Please!” “What for?  It is still Christmastime, is it not?  And we are enjoying a wonderful time, aren’t we?” Turning back to face him, a Scrooge-like scowl on your suddenly serious face, “I’ll do anything to get you to turn that off.” That got his attention, “Anything?”  Sitting up quickly, you reached for your blanket only to feel Loki snatching it out of your grasp, “You said anything, darling.” Tugging on the plush fabric, practically pouting, “You’re not going to take my new fluffy blankie, are you?” “Oh no.  That’s not nearly enough to stop me from playing my favorite Christmas carol.”

“It’s your favorite, now?  Loki, you just heard it.” Waving your gripes away, pinning you under his arms and under your blanket, “I love it.  It’s my favorite.  You can’t mess with perfection.”

You wiggled, trying to free an arm or a hand, anything to help defend yourself from Loki’s soft, but effective attack, "Perfection?  Loki, it's awful."

"I disagree.  But…”  Brushing a gentle kiss to your captive lips, making you melt into his warm touch, Loki made sure to keep you immobile.  Unraveling under his ardent attention, you gave up fighting, focusing on Loki’s roving hands through the protective layer of your new throw.  

Lost in his lips, you ignored the wretched recording still spinning, until sitting back with a sly smile Loki continued, “Regardless of my newly acquired antlers, I am a reasonable man.  I'm willing to hear your side of things.  Convince me, dove."

Looking up at him through your lashes, licking over your bottom lip that tasted of Loki's peppermint, it took you a moment to refocus on your argument.  Sighing doggedly, “It’s just garbage.  Too sweet, too synth-pop.  It’s plastic.  There’s no substance to it.”

At least Loki did you the service of considering your answer.  He paused, listening to the offending tune, starting to hum along once more.  “I don’t know.  It sounds like church bells ringing.  And I like when the kids start singing!”

“You couldn't.  Those are two of the worst things about it!  There’s not a single redeemable factor in it’s trite,  super saccharine, four minute run time.”  Agitated now and edging into anger, your voice kept rising, spurned on by the inability to get away from Loki’s plush prison, “Also, get off me!” “Can’t do it.  But-” nuzzling into your neck, tasting along the tendon there, “-I can replay this song.”  “That’s it!”  Fury tinted your words as you tried harder than ever to break free of your fleece prison but Loki was brick heavy, unmovable, and impossibly giddy at your predicament.  All things which only added fuel to your fire.  Wriggling like mad, struggling to kick a foot free, you squirmed desperately for leverage.  His response?  A deep chuckle, “Is that all you’ve got, darling?”  Laying those long, lanky bones on top of you, holding down the throw’s corners in a way that made fighting futile, Loki smirked at your distress, “I still don’t see why you hate it so much.  It is a simple song because we’re simply having a wonderful Christmastime!  It’s in the title after all.” With cheeks hot from exertion, fully frustrated and forced to listen to Paul McCartney’s bland holiday ballad start a second time, you nearly shrieked, "I hate it, Loki!  Loathe it, really!  The lyrics are basic, the keyboard is tinny, and Sir Paul is better than that!” “Is that all?” “No!  It's even worse when someone else sings it, like those kids from Glee or an up and coming Country artist making their first holiday record!"

Beneath the blanket your chest rose and fell with bothered breaths.  From rubbing against the couch your hair stuck up in odd angles and you could feel heat rising off your neck.  How had you gone from almost asleep to a blanket related battle royale?  Loki, taking advantage of your confinement, kissed your forehead sweetly, and the change in tactic caught you off guard.  His lips grazed the tip of your nose as you huffed out a pout, eager to see where his mischief making would lead.  Pressing his forehead to yours, that deep sonorous voice whispering lowly for your ears alone, "Not a compelling enough argument for me to turn it off, I'm afraid." And to your holiday horror the song in question started again.  Grousing, "Don’t play it again!  Please!  I’m begging you!” “Already begging darling?”  Thick with mocking, Loki slotted himself between your thighs, keeping you from fighting back with any power. Whining full out now, poking out your bottom lip, “Come on!  Please, let me up and turn this off!” “Why, of course, my pearl.���  With no effort on his part, Loki scooped you up, blankie and all, pulling you tightly to his chest.  Gripping your bottom, his fingers firm through the cotton of your pj pants, he squeezed hard enough for you to yelp. “Hey!”  But that’s all you managed before his talented tongue invaded your mouth.  Now the only thing you could hear was the shaky exhale of your shared sighs and your own needy mewls when Loki started to withdraw.

Godly hands drew your thick and comfy sweatshirt over your head, leaving you bare against the cuddly softness of your new blanket, a perfect dichotomy to the heated hardness of Loki’s chest.  With your arms finally free you tangled your hands in the long tresses of your lover, distracted from the awful music by his groan, “Easy darling.” But now that the tables were tipped in your favor, you had no intention of going easy on Loki.  Not after his antics tonight, not a chance.  Tugging hard enough for him to wince, you ground against his lap with a nip to his neck, “Turn it off then.”

“Now, why would I do that?  Aren’t we still enjoying a Wonderful Christmastime?” Bouncing in his lap, purposefully teasing your mischief maker with a smirk, “We were until you let this terrible song play!” Laughing heartily, Loki stroked over your bare shoulder, one hand resting on your waist and the other cupping your cheek.  “If I wanted to, my darling, I could change your mind.  I could make you adore this song.” “Is that so, Odinson?  I doubt it.”

“Doubt me?  On this, Christmas Eve!  When you know the feelin’s here that only comes once a year?” A confident nod was all he got for an answer.  In a flash you were laying on the soft rug, your legs wrapped over Loki’s and your new blanket tossed to the side.  Fiery kisses to your chest and neck led him to the shell of your ear where he hummed hungrily, “The moon is right, the spirits up…” Enjoying his mouth but not his music, you shoved against his shoulders, panting, “Don’t sing, just kiss me.” Licking into your mouth, Loki’s tongue obliged your need as his hands skated over the curve of your hip, breaking your kiss to croon, “We’re here tonight, dove… and that’s enough.”

“Loki… please stop…”  You fisted his shirt, pulling at the buttons until his muscular torso was under your fingers, strong and solid.  Pushing the plaid cotton off his shoulders, you let your nails drag over Loki’s naked back as you shifted your hips, subtlety be damned. He took the hint.  Nipping a trail over your tummy, Loki kept his eyes on yours as he shucked your shorts, snorting, “No panties?  Naughty!” “If that’s naughty, Loki, then what you’re doing to me is positively evil.” That made your lover grin, his eyebrows lifting in a wickedly Grinchy smile before caressing the inner skin of your thigh with his clever mouth.  Slithering closer to your center, sweeping his tongue in swirls, you couldn’t help the excited shiver he created.  It was enough to block out the terrible song now that you had something more arousing to hold your attention. Using those long, deft fingers, Loki parted your folds with a murmured moan, “You’re so wet, darling.  Maybe you like this song more than you let on?” A curse for him and his rotten taste in Christmas music died in your throat as Loki connected to your sacred skin through a carnal kiss.  Those strong forearms ensured that your knees stayed open wide as his tongue tasted, teasing your clenching cleft, humming with appreciation at your body’s response.  Circling your clit, sucking gently before changing direction and licking your lower lips once more, Loki had you teetering on the cliff of climax in minutes.

Your stomach tensed, ready for release.  Delicious waves of orgasmic bliss were pulsing through you, needing just a touch more friction, a little more pressure in order to crash over you.  Gasping out incoherent whimpers, fingers ruffling Loki’s dark hair, you can’t fight the neediness that he’s created in you. It just feels so incredible, something Loki knows you’re enjoying, “Like that, darling?” Passion clouds your vision as your desire crests, unfulfilled, “You know I do, Loki…” Fingers slide sensually through your slit, his bright eyes on you, “How much?  How much do you like it?” Shaking your head, still foggy with needs unmet, “So much, baby.  I love making love to you so much.” Bumping against your swollen bud, pressing down firmly, Loki begins using his hands to entice you towards ecstasy.  Two fingers enter you easily, delightful, sure, but not as filling as Loki’s hard member.  Reaching for him, you want to lose yourself in loving and being loved by your space god, “Sing for me, dove.” Beseeching you breathlessly, Loki’s hand stills, keeping you at the fringe of falling apart.  Waiting for your reply impatiently he asks again, “Sing, please.” “A song?” His reply is a shake of his dark head.  Slowly, smoothly, Loki withdraws his fingers, only to press them into your yielding flesh once more, “Yes, my darling.  Sing my favorite song!”

Sucking a bruise onto your inner thigh, those fingers of his spreading your walls, the exquisite pressure on your straining clitoris.  Any one of these distractions would have been hard to concentrate through.  Experiencing them all together?  Overwhelming.

And that’s the excuse you would use to explain what happened next.  “The party’s on… The feeling’s here…” As soon as the words left your lips, Loki’s attention resumed in earnest, “That’s it, dove!  Keep going!” “That only comes, this time of year… Ah!  Loki!” Loki watched you lustily.  Your eyes half closed, legs splayed lewdly, a nervous grin on your face.  He never wanted you more.  Slipping out of his jeans, wasting no time, Loki guided his hardened cock into you with a satisfying sigh. Your response to his abundance?  “Oh shit, Loki!  Yes!”  Snapping his hips against your pelvis, iron banded arms clinging to you, Loki stuttered, “I don’t hear you singing!” “We’re simply having a Wonderful Christmastime!”  How many times did you repeat the chorus?  Hard to say.  It became a mantra.  A thing to chant in time with everyone of Loki’s deliberate and deep thrusts. This time, when you felt the familiar stirring of your satisfaction, Loki didn’t stop you.  Encouraging you with a soulful kiss, his stroke surging in time with Paul McCartney’s crooning, you came apart in each other’s arms with a smile.  The song started again and you couldn’t stop the giggles from bursting out of you, “What’s so funny, dove?” “You said you could make me like this terrible, horrible, awful song.” Sitting up and taking you with him, Loki chuckled as he kissed your hand, “Hey, don’t make fun of the best holiday song I have ever heard.”  Pulling your new blanket around the both of you, “I still hate it, but-”

“But?”, his eyebrow arched in surprise, waiting for you to continue.

“But I don’t hate it as much.” Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, playfully ribbing you, “Do I have to force you into having another Wonderful Christmastime?” Biting your bottom lip, you returned the favor by sweeping a stray lock of Loki’s black hair over his shoulder, “Babe, you could make crazy, insane love to me each day and every night… and-” “And?”  Kissing Loki lightly on the nose, you stood up on shaky legs and started towards the hallway.  At the entry way you turned back letting the blanket fall to the floor, “-And Wonderful Christmastime would still suck.”  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To My Many Minxes:  @toomanystoriessolittletime @vodka-and-some-sass @just-random-obsessions @brokenthelovely @lots-of-loki @thefallenbibliophilequote @scrumptious-finicky-illusion @iamverity @mizfit2 @sammy-jo1977 @wolfsmom1 @jessiejunebug @iluvsumbucky @unadulteratedwizardlove @procrastinatinglikeabitch @shxdowofdarkness @nonsensicalobsessions @ahintofkiwistrawberry @alexakeyloveloki @rorybutnotgilmore @crystalizedcaramel @lokislittlecorner @capcapcapsicle @jamielea81 @caffiend-queen @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore @jenjen8675309 @that-one-person @roguewraith

[seanfalco]

Too Cute To Be So Stupid | Nathan Young x Reader

Word Count: 1k Prompt: As soon as i read  “you’re way too cute to be so stupid.” i thought of Nathan + (maybe also with the kiss prompts when one kisses the pout of the other’s face?) Requested by: Anonymous Warnings: None, just fluff! a/n: I’ve had this cute idea for a coffee shop!au meet cute with Nathan for a while, so I decided to combine it with this prompt!  I hope you enjoy :3

The little bell at the top of the door jingled as another customer entered, and you looked up to greet them, only to falter when you noticed it was him again, the guy with the loud mouth and the big hair, the one who never seemed to actually drink the coffee he ordered, despite coming in nearly every day for the past week and a half.

He was cute though, you once more found yourself thinking… in an obnoxious way.

“Hey there, what can I get you?” you asked as he sauntered to the counter, leaning against it heavily.

As if you didn’t already know what he was gunna order.  It was the same thing he ordered every time he came in.

The guy looked thoughtful for a moment, pretending to study the menu on the wall behind you, stroking his chin exaggeratedly.

“I’ll haaaaaaave a regular coffee, please,” he exclaimed, flashing you a lopsided grin and you couldn’t help but huff a soft laugh.

“Comin’ right up,” you replied, rolling your eyes as you reached for the coffee pot.  As you fixed his drink, you noticed him lean across the counter to check you up, his bottom lip catching between his teeth as his gaze swept over you appreciatively and you felt blood rush to your face.

When you turned back to him to hand him his cup, he quickly straightened, hastily tearing his eyes from you, but it was too late.  Ignoring your knowing look he reached for his wallet.

“Y’know, I almost feel bad chagrin’ you for a drink y’don’t even want,” you mused, resting your elbows against the counter and propping your chin in your hand. 

The shop was empty save for the two of you, and you were sort of grateful, as that meant you’d actually have time to talk to him, maybe even find out his name.

“What d’ya mean?” the guy asked, his head jerking up sharply at your words.

“Oh, c’mon,” you teased, grinning at him.  “Every time y’come in here you buy the cheapest drink on the menu besides the free water, and then you take maybe two disgusted sips before chuckin’ it in the bin round the corner when you leave,” you pointed out, watching the colour drain from his face, though he fought for nonchalance.

“Maybe you’re just shite at makin’ coffee.  You ever think about that?” he countered, his thick eyebrows rising, as if he’d caught you.

You stared at him.

“If that were the case, then why do you keep comin’ back?” 

Frowning, he shrugged.  “Maybe I’m just a glutton for punishment,” he shot back and you rolled your eyes.

Watching him take a sip and fighting not to grimace, an idea came to you.  

“Listen, I’ll make you a deal,” you said, clearly piquing his interest.

“Oh?” he asked, setting down his cup and leaning closer.  “Do tell, I’m on th’edge of my seat, love, pins and needles here,” he exclaimed, making you laugh.

“Okay, so I won’t charge you for the coffee, if you tell me why you keep comin’ in to order somethin’ you’ve no intention of drinkin’ in the first place,” you offered, watching him carefully.

Oh, you knew why he kept coming in… or at least, you had a damn good idea.  You just wanted to hear him say it.  Nudge him in the right direction.

Wetting his lips, his eyes quickly darted away as if searching for an answer.  Finally he frowned to himself and sighed.

“Okay, yeh caught me,” he exclaimed, holding his hands up.  “This ain’t exactly my scene y’know, I’d rather be at the pub drinkin’ a pint,” he admitted.  “So, what would y’say if I told you the coffee was just an excuse to see you?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow and biting his lip tentatively.

For all his obnoxious bravado earlier, he was clearly nervous, afraid of striking out, of getting shot down, and you found it rather endearing.  Fighting back a grin you managed to keep a mostly straight face, despite the way your stomach flipped excitedly.

“I’d say… you’re way too cute to be so stupid,” you teased, enjoying the incredulous way his mouth fell open at your words.

Obviously trying to find a comeback, his mouth working soundlessly, he ended up yelping indignantly while his hands gestured wildly.

“Well, fine, if that’s how you’re gunna be, see if I come back then!” he finally exclaimed, the floodgates opening.  “But it’s your loss, sweetheart!  Once y’see me round with some other bird, you’ll realize you’re missin’ out on all of this!” he cried, gesturing down his lanky body while his lips turned to a pout, and you couldn’t hold back any longer.

Pushing yourself up to lean across the counter you pressed your lips to his, just long enough to take him by surprise and wipe the adorable pout from his face, his green eyes going wide.

“What was that for?” he asked, still gaping at you.  

“I never said I wasn’t interested,” you replied, amusement twinkling in your eyes.  “I already knew why you kept comin’ in here.  I’ve been waitin’ to see how long it would take you to ask me out,” you explained, feeling your cheeks heat.  “I kinda thought you’d be bolder, t’be honest,” you admitted and he frowned, glancing away.

“I had a bit of bad luck recently, in the ol’ romance department, if y’know what I mean.  So, excuse me for needin’ t’work up the nerve a little first,” he huffed, and your expression softened.

“Have you already forgotten that I’ve kissed you and called you cute?” you teased, watching him perk up as that dawned on him.  “What’s your name, handsome?” you asked, knowing he already knew yours, thanks to your name tag.

“Nathan,” he answered, a wolfish grin stealing across his lips now that it was obvious he was back in the game.  Though he was just lucky you already thought he was cute.

“Soooo, you wanna grab a drink after your shift?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows enticingly and you couldn’t help but giggle as you nodded.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” you replied, nearly asking if he was sure he didn’t wanna grab a coffee instead, but you resisted, figuring there’d be plenty of time to tease him further later.

“Yeah?” he asked, his face lighting up rather sweetly.  “When d’you get off?”

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

Nathan Tag List: @magic-multicolored-miracle​ @midnightseance​ @etherealsxnder​ @iamsexytrash​ @orions-nebula​ @sokkasdarling​ @itsametaphorbriansblog​ @slutforrobbiebro​

[anothertimdrakestan]

Pick Me Choose Me Love Me Tim Drake x Reader

Words: 1.2k

Requested? Yes! From a lovely anon!

“Heya, can I request 1 and 4 with Tim? Thanks!” (1. pick me, choose me, love me & 4. make me)

LINK TO PROMPTS  -> REQUESTS ARE STILL OPEN!

Lemme tell you that this is some angsty shit right here. I went full cliche with this. Knowing my blog you should know it ends in fluff because we gotta stay true to character here but boyyyyyy I really wrecked myself writing this. Thank you for the AMAZING request I love combining 1 & 4 it wasn’t even on my radar, anon you are an evil, angsty, genius. I love you. xoxo!

Today was the day! Tim told you it was time you meet the most important girl in his life! You’d never thought about how you’d never met his mother, mostly seeing Mr. Wayne around the manor when you two hangout but you hoped that by meeting her today at the coffee shop you and Tim had always loved was a sign that he’d finally got his feelings in check and was going to ask you out. 

You’d spent the afternoon picking out a classy but cute outfit, tried 4 different hair styles and eventually just decided to put it up your favorite way and worry about what you would say to this very important woman. You gave yourself a pep talk on the walk there. The coffee shop was a special place for you and Tim, it was the start of your friendship, where you figured out he was Red Robin, and basically the keystone to your friendship. Meeting his mother there was perfect in your eyes. With a deep breath you opened the door, appreciating the familiar jingle of the door’s bells as you entered. Heart full, you rounded the corner to your booth and you heart stopped. 

There was Tim. He looked put together but casual, cute but sexy, and happy but not with you. His arm was around a girl your age, not a motherly figure unless all people makeout with their teenage mothers. Feeling your heart literally break inside of you seeing Tim smile the way you thought only you could make him while he winked at a trashy, obnoxious girl. Trying not to throw up you walked up to the booth, gaining Tim’s attention finally. He looked so excited to see you, “hey! Y/n like I said, may I introduce you to the lovely Sierra Sires!” you tried to force a smile realizing you were meeting another Gotham billionaire’s daughter. She looked the part too, covered in expensive jewelry and name brand, designer clothing she looked like everything you hated, and she was the one with Tim’s love. 

“Hello Sierra, nice to meet you.” hiding the grimace you sat down opposite the two. Tim ordered for all three of you, noting he knew her whole order; some skinny iced latte with vanilla free bullshit and some fancy nut milk you didn’t even know existed. Everything about her on Tim’s arm looked wrong. Partially because she was the physical embodiment of fake and mostly because you knew in your soul it should be you. To make matters worse, it was raining and you had planned on going to the manor with Tim after but you knew you couldn’t stomach that after meeting little miss plastic. 

Trying to politely engage in conversation you felt like Tim was a different person, he was talking business and flashing toothy grins with Sierra that was so different from the quiet, kind smiles he always shared with you. This was Tim’s real life? Clearly Tim’s standards for ‘most important girl in the world’ were low if a girl he’d been slobbering for three weeks was in the number one slot. 

The torture was over when Sierra had to go to some stupid interview, watching her get whisked off in a fancy car you turned back to Tim who looked at you expectantly. “So whatcha think of Cici?” you gagged at the pet name. “Actually Tim I’ve gotta go home, sorry.” you decided you needed to stop by the supermarket and get ice cream to cry into tonight, no room for Tim in those plans especially because he was the reason your heart was shattered. “What no! Y/n let go to the manor! You promised we’d hangout, and it’s raining and you didn’t bring an umbrella!” he wiggled an eyebrow knowing how you hated getting wet. 

“No Tim I’m going home.”  You got up, quickly leaving the cafe. Breaking into a jog you heard the same stupid jingle as footsteps neared you. “Y/n woah hold up- STOP” Tim never shouted at you. Something inside you stopped, whipping around to face him. “Well Tim here’s your damn answer. I hate her. Your dear Sierra, the most important girl in your life more like worst girl in your life. Me. Tim. I’ve been here for years, by your side through it all. Fuck I’ve loved you through it all. And she’s your person? Really?” At this point your angry tears were mixed with the rain you kept pushing out of your face. Tim looked shocked, his hair was matted to his forehead while the second best detective in the world had finally been stumped. “Y/n I- I thought you didn’t feel that way about me. I chose Sierra and I like her - but I think I like you too.” his eyes cast down, and you realized you needed to make everything clear. 

Your hand went to his cheek, pulling his face up to look you in the eyes. “I’m gonna say this once, you get one chance to make me yours. Here it is: your choice. It's simple, her or me, and I'm sure she is really great. But Tim, I love you. So pick me, choose me, love me. Timothy Drake Wayne I need you to pick me. Please.” his face looked blurry from the tears and pieces of your hair slicked against your face but you could see his eyes brimming with emotion. 

Tim looked in your eyes, moving pieces of hair behind your ear as he began, “Y/n it’s you, I love you. I’ve spent my life saving people’s lives but here  you are, the one saving mine. Y/n I choose you I choose the girl who’s my rock, my person, and the best thing to ever happen to me.” That was all it took before the two of you were crashing your lips together. Your hands ran through his wet hair, pulling his body closer to yours. It felt like fire was dancing across your skin while you kissed him. Breaking apart to breathe Tim clasped your hand in his, the two of you touching foreheads, closer than you’d ever been. “Good choice Timmy” you whispered breathlessly. With a smirk he replied “I thought you’d like that one, I am the world's greatest detective you know” you snorted “world’s most oblivious idiot maybe” “I’m your idiot now Y/N” you glanced up at him feeling your heart pick itself up as he flashed the same kind smile you knew would always be yours. 

Feeling him pull you with him towards your apartment as he mumbled “C’mon love I know you hate the rain” you agreed as the two of you walked hand in hand, the rain didn't feel so bad anymore with the love of your life finally secured. For once you felt at home, heart full as you had your other half next to you.

[fanatic-author]

Murder Is Not On The Agenda

Rating: T (swearing) Warnings: swearing Category: Gen Fandom: Boku No Hero Academia Relationships: Dabi & Shigaraki & Toga Language: English Words: 2,162 Chapters: 1/1

Summary: Three villains go on an ice cream run in the middle of the night and absolutely nothing goes wrong. Yeah, right.

Read it here on AO3!

“Tomura, I think I’m dying.” Toga moaned where she lay spread out on the couch.  

“Shut the fuck up.” he replied, not even bothering to look at her. He had the electric fan, and everyone else could suck it.

“Tomura.” Dabi whined from his spot on the floor.

“What.”

“I think I’m dying.”  

“Sucks.”

The fact of the matter was, it was nearly 30 degrees and almost 11 o clock at night, which meant it was  hot  with no sign of cooling off anytime soon. And with 7 people sharing a space, it was getting unbearable.

“Shiggy, give me the fan. Kurogiri tell Shiggy it’s my turn with the fan!”

“Eat my ass, bitch.”

Compress was fanning himself with his mask; trench coat, top hat, and even balaclava removed in the intense heat. Spinner was no better, elaborate stain costume stashed somewhere not on his body in favor of as little clothing as possible. When questioned about why a  reptile  which was typically cold blooded had to  cool off , they were met with double fingers and a grumbled “I’m human underneath the scales.”  

The one probably faring the worst of all of them was Twice. He refused to take off his mask, and as such was gently being prodded by Kurogiri to periodically suck on ice cubes. The heat didn’t seem to have much an effect on the warper. Perks of being a living cloud, one supposed.  

“Shiggy do somethiiiiiiiiing.” Toga continued whining, one hand fanning herself and the other laying listlessly off the couch.  

“Do something? You want me to do something!? I don’t control the weather Toga! I don’t control the thermostat, or the pressure systems, or the tilt of the earth this time of the year!” he shouted.

“But you can control the tilt the rest of the year?” Dabi quipped, still lying vulnerable on the floor.  

This vulnerability was immediately exploited by Tomura who launched himself across the room to body slam Dabi, a surprised and breathless “OOF” leaving him. The two of them began rolling around the floor, slapping and pinching the other, but they quickly fell apart in the overwhelming heat.  

“I think I would give my left nut for that Todoroki kid’s ice quirk right about now.” Spinner said from his spot near the window, raising many questions regarding reptiles and nuts no one wanted to ask.  

Dabi twitched but it was Toga who said “Man, I bet he can make ice cream whenever he wants!”  

“That sounds like a hassle.” replied Spinner.

“What?”

“Making ice cream. Way easier to go buy some.”  

“How?”  

Dabi, Tomura, and Spinner all simultaneously replied “Money can be exchanged for goods and services.” Compress pinched his nose. Twice groaned in overheating agony.  

“Maybe you should participate in our stimulating economy” Kurogiri said “and fetch the rest of us some ice cream.”

“You don’t even feel the heat.” retorted Tomura, but Toga and Dabi had already gotten to their feet, and compress was rifling through his wallet for what bills he had on hand.  

“Get me an ice cream, none of that popsicle crap.” He said, giving Tomura the cash.  

“Screw you.”

In the end it was only Tomura, Dabi, and Toga going because Twice was still too hot, Spinner argued he’d attract too much attention, and Compress was paying. Kurogiri made them walk because he was an ass, according to Tomura.  

“We would attract so much attention if we warped to the 7-11 in the middle of the night.” Dabi pointed out “Like, they would call All Might out of retirement just to beat our ass.”  

“I’d take him.” Tomura deadpanned.  

“If you saw All Might’s emaciated form, you’d piss your pants running.”  

It had been like this for the last fifteen minutes they’d spent walking in the muggy heat to nearest 24-hour convenience store, which when you were hiding from any and all levels of law enforcement, was not anywhere near where they lived. Whenever the conversation seemed to slow down, Toga interjected with just enough barb to get the argument rolling again.  

“Fuck, marry, kill: All Might, Endeavor, Hawks”  

“Kill all 3.” Tomura replied.  

Toga stuck out her tongue at him “You’re no fun. Dabi?”

“Kill Endeavor, fuck Hawks, marry All Might. He’d treat me right.”  

Toga swooned “Oh he would, wouldn’t he? Always coughing up blood...”  

Tomura murmured “freak” under his breath, with only a teaspoon of malice. The three of them entered 7-11, identities hidden from the cameras (and prone to panicking cashiers) under face masks.

“Cuz this isn’t suspicious as all hell” Dabi muttered under his breath “Spinner should have had to come.”  

The argument had been made that either spinner should have to come or Dabi should be allowed to stay, but Kurogiri insisted on adult supervision for the other 2, no matter Tomura was probably the oldest of the three of them, but he didn’t count because he was Tomura. Dabi had that kind of face that one would assume is older than it actually was, probably because of the horrific scar tissue.  

The three of them gathered around the cooler, bills in hand, staring down the various cool treats.  

“This is all gonna be melted by the time we get back anyway.” Toga pointed out.  

Tomura said “Well the rest of them should have thought of that before giving us their money. Just grab whatever you want.” He proceeded to do so, plucking ice cream cones and popsicles from their icy shelves. Dabi wandered over to the slushy machine.  

Toga grabbed a misshapen SpongeBob popsicle for herself, Tomura despite knowing it was a waste had grabbed three ice creams and one popsicle (for compress), Dabi was currently filling an extra-large slushy. None of the 3 paid particularly close attention to the overhead door bell jingling.  

They  did  however, begin paying attention at the obnoxious voices that had made their way inside.  

“Alright! Uraraka you are on candy duty, Kirishima! Retrieve the slushies! Midoriya, here is the ice cream list, and I shall get chips! Does everyone else have their lists? Reconvene here once you have gotten everything, or close alternatives if the first option is not available!”  

There were various sounds of assent and agreement, which were largely missed by the two villains, too busy shitting their pants.  

“What? How?” Toga whispered, already dropped to a crouch behind the cooler.  

“I don’t know! Shut up!” Tomura hissed back, crouched behind Toga., the various treats shoved in his pockets. He had no qualms using her as a meat shield if spotted.

“Where’s Dabi?”

“He went to the slushy machine.”  

They both peered around the cooler to look where Dabi had gone. Where’d he’d standing instead sat a lone, spilt, extra-large slushy.  

“Oh my god they killed Dabi.” Toga whispered.  

Tomura nodded in agreement “Well, let’s cut our losses and get out of here.”  

“Man, fuck you guys.”  

Both Tomura and Toga shrieked as Dabi came up behind them, and then immediately shushed the other. Unfortunately for the three villains hiding behind an ice cream cooler in a 7-11 in the middle of the night, stealth was not their forte. Quite frankly, not much was.  

A nearby voice, rapidly getting louder, asked “Did you guys hear that?”  

Neither of the three villains waited for their nemesis, one Midoriya Izuku aka the second coming of All Might himself to find them. Toga dashed to hide behind the shelves of snacks in the center of the store. Tomura and Dabi weighed their options, but the prospect of getting blown through a wall at Mach 3 had them quickly following.  

Toga stood crouched in the beef jerky aisle, with the sound of The Uglier Sonic only one aisle over.

“We. Need. To. Get. Out. Of. Here.” Tomura bit, out as quietly as possible.  

“I vote we use Toga as bait.”  

“ Hey!”  

Tomura shushed them both, all three of them listening to see if their conversation had attracted any unwanted attention.  

“... and 3 bags of sour cream and onion, one of ketchup, and one of... Excuse me, Midoriya? Do you happen to know of the flavor “Chungus?” Kaminari requested a big bag of... why are you laughing?”  

Dabi looked like he was going to have a stroke trying to contain his laughter.  

“I love those stupid kids.” he said.  

“Yeah, that’s why we’re trying to kill them.” Toga agreed.  

Dabi looked to Tomura “So what’s the plan, boss? Light, and run?”  

He shook his head “No, no way. I’m not dealing with these snot-nosed brats today. I just want to go home, and bitch about the heat some more. Murder was not, and is still not, on the agenda.”  

Dabi carefully extinguished the blue flame in his hand “Ok, but we still need a way out.”  

“Alright, boy wonder is at the ice cream cooler, Dwayne Johnson is at the slushy machine, Glinda is grabbing candy 3 aisles over, and we’re less than 2 feet from a speeding bullet. Anything in our way between us and the door?”  

“No.” Dabi answered, right as Toga said “Yes.”  

“What?”  

Wordlessly she pointed, and there standing just outside the door was the worst one yet. Their homeroom teacher. Of course the kids couldn’t just go anywhere they liked off campus in the middle of the night, they had to be accompanied. He was probably making sure no one got in the store to hurt them.  

“If this was an assassination attempt, we’d be killing it right now.” Dabi said.  

Toga said “Ha. Pun.”  

Tomura wanted to pull his hair out “We’re never this successful when we’re actually trying, what gives?”  

The three of them put their heads together.  

“Think they’ll give me a nicer cell if I sell you two out?” Dabi had a hand on his chin in contemplation.

Tomura hit him.  

“I think stabbing is a viable solution.”

“I think one or more heroes is going to be scraping you off their knuckles if you try.”

“What if we got you to a wall? Make us a hole, then make a run for it?”  

Tomura nodded “I could do it.”  

The three of them began creeping towards the far end of the aisle, closest to an outer wall, when a large yelp, and a crashing sound made the three of them jump. Toga actually startled so hard she hit the shelf behind her, making a frankly impressive amount of noise considering. Thankfully it was drowned out by the sounds of alarm coming from the other occupants of the store.  

“Ow...”  

“Kirishima! are you alright?”  

“Yeah, I slipped in some...”  

“I’m coming!”  

Then there was the familiar sound of engines revving, and then a  very  impressive crashing sound, followed by two pained cries this time.  

“Dude, why?” one groaned.  

“I apologize, I did not see the slushy on the ground.” The other moaned.  

The front door bell chimed rather aggressively as the front door slammed open, a very menacing aura entering that had each person in that store reconsidering every decision that brought them there in that moment.  

“What. Is. Going. On. Here?” A gruff voice asked, belonging none other than to one pissed off Eraserhead, a voice every villain in the league was familiar with by this point. It usually precluded getting your ass kicked.

All the students gathered around their fallen friends and began clamoring to explain themselves at once, voices shouting and pointing out facts and telling wildly outlandish tales of sabotage slushies on the ground. The volume of the group rose and rose as each member tried to talk over the other.  

“Well that was easy. See ya, suckers.” Dabi said, dashing from his point of cover and out the door.  

Toga quickly followed, and Tomura hesitated but as the group remained quite thoroughly distracted, he soon followed as well. No one inside noticed the three villains taking off in to the night.  

“Holy shit!” Toga laughed outrageously, now several blocks from the convenience store, and lavishing in her nearly lost freedom. She jumped off the sidewalk, running around with her arms spread in malicious joy.  

“Just so you guys know, I wouldn’t have actually sold you out for a better cell. Just so we’re clear.”  

“Shut up while you’re ahead, Dabi”

Toga howled in joy “and I didn’t even have to pay for my ice cream!” She pulled out her SpongeBob popsicle, ripping the wrapper off to expose the misshapen face that was supposedly a cartoon character. She plopped it in her mouth with a satisfied hum.  

“Oh my god.” Tomura stuck his own hands in his pockets, pulling out the treats he’d shoved in there when this all began.  

“Oh, hell yeah!” Dabi plucked one of the packaged ice cream cones from his hand. Tomura didn’t even fight him for it, ripping open his own ice cream treat and digging in.  

He couldn’t help chuckling “Those heroes helped us rob a convenience store.”  

Dabi nodded “This is the best day of my life.”  

[thebiasrekkers]

Make It Right [BTS Mafia!AU]

Plot: “It’s always darkest before the dawn…” It’s a dog-eat-dog world in Seoul, South Korea. One has to dwell in the shadows in order to reach for the light. What are you willing to sacrifice in order to feel the sunlight on your face? What will it take to drag you back into darkness? How long will the journey be to make it right?

Rating: NC-17 // NSFW

Genre: Series | Mafia!AU | Crime!AU | Angst | Romance/Fluff | Smut

Pairings: Jin x OC | Taehyung/Hoseok x OC | Yoongi/Jungkook x OC

Warnings: Graphic Violence, Heavy Language, Angst, Slow Burn, Smut

Previous Chapters: Prologue 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || Admin E’s WP || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 2,105

Tag List: @prisczero​, @pinkpjmin​, @btsaudge​, @flowerwrites06​, @unoriginal-username15432, @halussali​

Chapter 38: Lie

“Take me out of this hell. I can't free myself from this pain.”

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

Taehyung wasn’t normally a morning person. He worked late nights, especially with running the Indie record label alongside Jungkook, which meant hours upon hours spent at the recording studio. There were nights when his insomnia would take hold of him, keeping him from being able to rest properly. Waking hours lulled on with worries that he often kept to himself. When he didfinally sleep, it was restless and sometimes plagued with nightmares. He tried sleep aids that Jimin suggested, but they only worked so long as he didn’t grow dependent on taking them every day.

This particular morning, Taehyung was up just as the morning haze began to lift. Cradling a steaming paper cup of coffee, he approached the quiet amusement park. They wouldn’t be opening for a couple of months, what with it being the off-season. Being a former Golden Jackal had its perks and he was able to unlock the large padlock connected to the links of chains outside of the gate. The metal hinges creaked loudly and he winced, wondering if this resembled how the gates of Hell would open when entreating new residents.

I’ll find out one day, I guess, he thought, smirking against the brim of the cup as he entered the park while stuffing the padlock into his coat pocket. He always believed he was damned. May as well make the most of his life while he was still up and kicking.

Spring was around the corner. He could feel it. The air was less frigid and held a distinct warmth to it, even through the overcast sky.

Taehyung glanced around casually, peering at the different rides. The park looked like a ghost town since no one was there to enjoy the festivities. Vendor booths were empty of prizes and food, but he knew if he imagined hard enough, he could hear the ambient noise that came with the scenery.

A stab of nostalgia poked at his chest as he recalled the small-town festivals that were held in his hometown. Farmers gathered to drink, barter goods, and traveling performers visited to entertain the townsfolk. Taehyung was amused with it until he became a teenager, wondering if the country life was all he was going to ever surround himself with. He’d had his own ambitions to leave and head to the big city, but he never imagined he would have done it with his childhood friends.

Everyone seemed so set in their ways back then. Even Namjoon.

He halted his steps, lifting his face to the sky. I wonder when things started to change…

“It’s creepy when no one is here,” said a voice behind him.

Taehyung lolled his head lazily to the side, pivoting slightly until he was face to face with the person he agreed to meet with that morning. He pulled the hood back on his hoodie, sneakers shuffling on the concrete as a better dressed Chae Hyungwon approached. His bubblegum pink hair looked faded, mostly from the overcast skies, but his piercing eyes seemed even brighter than normal. The silver earrings dangling from his lobes jingled softly as he walked, a soft smirk pulling at the corners of his full lips. While Hyungwon was dressed in what most would consider business casual, Taehyung felt severely under dressed in comparison.

And he didn’t give a damn.

Hyungwon stopped just a few feet in front of Taehyung, the two men facing each other. Instead of greeting him (or even acknowledging his earlier comment), the younger man took another drink of coffee. He made a point to slurp in an obnoxious fashion, unbothered by the simple lift of a brow from Hyungwon.

When he pulled the cup from his lips, Hyungwon scoffed as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his slacks. “You didn’t even bother to bring me a cup of coffee?”

Taehyung shrugged a shoulder. “I didn’t know I was supposed to.” And to be a brat, he took another long sip.

“So disrespectful to your Hyung,” Hyungwon replied casually.

“Now that,” he said, the hand holding the cup pointing at him, “you most certainly are not.”

Hyungwon made a dramatic show of being insulted, placing a hand on his chest as if he’d been physically struck. When he noticed that Taehyung wasn’t going to humor him, he returned to his normal posture and expression.

“You’re no fun.”

“Why did you want to meet me at such a stupid time of day?”

He watched the older man take a few steps forward, closing the gap between them, before side-stepping Taehyung and walking past him. He turned his body in time with his movements, not wanting to have his back to the Snapping Turtle. However, Hyungwon seemed focused on whatever he was processing in his head as he continued walking, not bothering to see if Taehyung would follow. He didn’t care to be left alone, but he wasn’t comfortable with Hyungwon running around and being left to his own devices in a place only he had been allowed access to.

“Hey!” he belted out, but the older man continued walking with no signs of slowing down his pace at all. “You gonna answer me or what?!”

Again, he was ignored.

Annoyed, Taehyung jogged forward and grasped onto Hyungwon’s shoulder, whirling him around so they were face to face. When he did, he was suddenly aware of something sharp pressed against his neck. Taehyung rocked back on the balls of his feet, surprised he still had a hold of his coffee. Hyungwon’s eyes, which were playful and light earlier, were now dark and threatening. A lump formed in Taehyung’s throat and as he swallowed, he was even more aware of the cold bite of the item still against his skin.

“Taehyung-ah,” came Hyungwon’s even tone, his hold on the knife steady, “I know it isn’t your style, but you should really mind your manners.”

Taehyung smirked, slowly setting his feet back evenly on the ground, and shrugged. “Oh, right,” he said, as if he was remembering something, “I forgot how you hate being touched.”

Hyungwon quickly removed the knife’s edge from his throat, folding the blade back into its confines and slipping it into his pocket. Taehyung absentmindedly rubbed at his neck, checking if the skin was broken. When he saw no blood, he looked up at Hyungwon who was now brushing his hands through his hair in irritation.

He wasn’t going to be the only one who got riled up at this asinine hour of the day.

For a while, the two men just stood in companionable silence. It was like this before; in the past. When the Golden Jackals didn’t exist. Back then, the Jade Fangs were the young gang climbing up in ranks on the streets. Their reputation wasn’t as profound as it was today, but, in time, they were able to gain notoriety where it counted.

And it happened because of them; the Golden Jackals.

“If I call you ‘Hyung’, just for today, will you tell me why you dragged me out of my bed?”

Hyungwon’s irritated expression was immediately replaced with a mischievous grin. “I’ll think about it.”

Taehyung rolled his eyes. “That’s the only offer you’re getting. If you don’t have anything to tell me, I’m going back to sleep.”

Without waiting for an answer to his ultimatum, he turned on his heels and began walking back towards the entrance of the park.

“Icarus died because he flew too close to the sun.”

His sneakers made a loud scraping noise as he halted abruptly. Slowly, he turned his head to look over his shoulder at Hyungwon. The older man stayed where he was, hands once more in his pockets.

Taehyung quipped a brow at him. “Yeah, so what?”

“His hubris is what killed him.”

This time, he narrowed his eyes. “Again, so what?” he asked through clenched teeth.

Hyungon’s lips pressed together in a thin line. He looked like he was about to say something, then stopped. Taehyung did his best not to squeeze the paper cup in his hand. He visibly looked like he was piecing something together, formulating the words in his head. Taehyung smothered his anger down into his gut to keep from exploding in outrage at Hyungwon.

After what felt like a small eternity, the older man met Taehyung’s eyes. “You all need to leave Seoul.”

Though he hadn’t meant to, Taehyung burst into a small fit of laughter. “I’m sorry, what was that?” Hyungwon clearly wasn’t joking, but he couldn’t stop laughing. “You want us to leave where now?”

“Seoul.” Hyungwon’s tone was clipped. “You need to leave Seoul as soon as you can.”

“Fuck that.”

“I’m serious, Taehyung-ah. Leave Seoul.” Hyungwon sighed, averting his gaze. “At least for a little while. Until things settle down.”

Taehyung’s laughter died off. “And why the hell should we do that, huh?” He was smiling, but he could feel the precursor of an eruption bubbling in his chest. “After all the hard work we’ve put in through the years, after everything we’ve fucking accomplished, you think we’re just gonna turn tail and run? Huh?”

Hyungwon said nothing, which only made him angrier. Why wasn’t he giving him more of an explanation than that? What the hell was so goddamn pressing that he felt the need to tell him and his brothers to fucking scram? As far as he was concerned, they’d paid their dues and done their time. They had no reason to flee the scene because they weren’t in the shadows anymore.

A sliver of light peeled in through the clouds, followed by several more rays that beamed down around them. The concrete took on an ethereal glow, shadowing their forms even more than they had been under the cloud cover. Even the steam rising from his coffee was lost in the darkness.

“I’m afraid it doesn’t work that way.”

“And why the hell not?”

“Because it doesn’t.”

“No,” snapped Taehyung, pointing to Hyungwon angrily, “you need to make it work that way. I don’t know what your boss has planned, and I don’t fucking care. We’re not playing the game anymore. We’re out!”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“What?!”

“I said that it doesn’t matter.” Hyungwon’s brows furrowed slightly. “You think the game is over just because you’ve folded your hand? Don’t be so naïve.”

Taehyung scoffed, rolling both his neck and his eyes, before giving him an incredulous look. “Wow, Chae Hyungwon, you—”

“The game is still being played, Kim Taehyung. So, while I’m telling you nicely, you need to take whatever you can and get the hell out of Seoul.”

Taehyung’s anger was boiling and on the verge of overflowing. Yet he couldn’t say anything. In all the years he’d known Hyungwon, he’d only ever seen him this serious once. And that was on the night war broke out in Gangnam five years ago.

The night when the Golden Jackals solidified their place in the criminal underworld.

Something else dawned on Taehyung at that exact moment. Why it had taken him so long was something he’d have to battle with later, when his mind was a little quieter. But now? Now he had a better understanding of the situation. Now he had a better grasp on the danger they were about to be in.

Or already were in.

Those bastards are about to make a move, he thought, almost horrified by the idea of it, and he doesn’t care that we’ve pulled out from the competition.

“Leave the table.” Hyungwon approached Taehyung, walking around him and heading toward the exit. “Before you’re forced to see just how much you’re about to lose.”

He watched Hyungwon exit the amusement park, leaving Taehyung alone as the sun continued breaking through the clouds. His hands shook violently and hot coffee spilled out onto the ground, burning the back of his hand. But he couldn’t feel any of it. He was completely numb. If his entire body wasn’t trembling with the force of his rage, he might have cared.

Reaching into his back pocket, he fished out his cell and quickly dialed a number. It rang twice before they picked up. Swallowing the lump in his throat once more, Taehyung wet his lips as he tried to regain his voice. As he tried to tether some semblance of sanity back to his brain - to keep his mind from running amok without reason.

But he had a reason. They all had one.

Because the game wasn’t over yet.

“Hoseok Hyung,” he said gently, his fingers curling into a literal death grip around the phone, “I think we’re about to have some problems…”

[chaosdoesnotdefineme]

you paint your nails with glitter gel nail polish, but scratch it off within a day.

oh what the hell??

[akaspiderman]

bloom

pairing: peter parker x reader

warnings: angst in the beginning but it is fluff!!!

word count: 3.4k, it’s a little long but i love love.

plot: Everyone deserves flowers once in their lives.

A/N: i wrote this for @lovelyspidey and @thelazypangolin’s writing challenge and my prompt was fluff, number 19: “Aw, you got me flowers?” I hope it doesn’t suck and you like it <3

not my gif

Every single second your heart drops lower. Every single second you’re resisting the urge to look towards the door. Every single second your vision become more and more blurry, tears threatening to cause a scene. Every single second you want to melt into the ground and pretend that you didn’t do this. That you didn’t spend hours over agonizing over the perfect outfit and talking about this day to anyone who would listen. Every single second, hope seems lost.

He should be here. He said he would be here. He would meet you at this small cafe that would mark your first date with him. He told you that he was looking for an actual relationship and how serious he was about it. And you believed it all. You believed that your eyes would meet his and everything would fall into place. You believed that you would somehow fall in love to the scent of coffee and the acoustic music that surrounds you. But he isn’t here and love feels fake.

Your attention goes back to your phone that lays face up, illuminating with another text from MJ and Ned. There wasn’t any energy in your body to respond to them, the only text you wanted to read was the one that read Jonah. Of course, it wasn’t there. He was just another guy you met at a random event, who seemed decent enough for you to pursue.

Your phone buzzes again, your friends empty threats at Jonah weren’t comforting at this point. You just feel so stupid, you should have known that he was some asshole who wanted to mess with your head. Yet, you fell for his simple text messages that made you blush through the screen. You ran your mouth about him to your friends, the excitement in your eyes visible to everyone. MJ would roll her eyes, Ned would excitedly support you, and Peter would just smile. The tables have turned and all they can do is comfort you and drag Jonah through the phone that illuminated the time 12:37, making him an hour and thirty-seven minutes late from what should have been a magical day.

Something kept you tied down to your chair even if you know you should leave. It was like your pride was holding you down, your mind in refusal that this wasn’t happening. You were delusional, half-expecting him to stroll in with a perfect excuse. He wasn’t even answering his texts. But you held your ground. The poor waiter you had was too kind to kick you out yet and would occasionally ask if you wanted to order, but each time you denied.

Your eyes were trained onto the fake flowers that divides the table in half. They were screaming color, way too obnoxious for the atmosphere that surrounds you. Noises subdue to the point where you feel out of your body and all you can do was stare down the flowers. You’ve grown so dead to your surroundings that you didn’t even notice the chimes by the door jingle or the footsteps approach you. What you noticed was a voice that cut through your thoughts. The voice that said “(y/n)?”.

Your hands fly to your face, hastily wiping away the stray tears. Your posture instantly straightens out at the sound of your name, relief washing over. Then it hits you, that voice was too familiar. It wasn’t an unknown voice, it was a voice you know time and time again. “Peter?”.

“Hey,” he says. His focus was on the ground, allowing his unkept hair to flop forward. His hands are behind his back and he’s rocking back and forth on his heels, a slight pink undertone dancing on his skin if you aren’t mistaken.

“Uh, hi. Um, what are you doing here?” you ask. As much as you love Peter, you weren’t fond of the idea of him seeing you in this condition. Though there was this sense of comfort knowing he was right there.

Peter still doesn’t pry his eyes off the ground, but he grows a shade brighter. “I, um, well you know how you, you sent out the texts. I didn’t want you to be, to be lonely.”

Your heart melts, he was here for you. “Peter-“

“Here,” Peter says thrusting his hands forward. He was holding a beautiful bouquet of flowers that were filled with life.

“Aw, you got me flowers?” you exclaim. You reach over to take them from him, your hands brushing past each other as he hands them off with the lightest touch. The bouquet was abundant with fragrant, whimsical flowers that brightened up the room.

“Do you like it?” he asks with the softest voice.

You close your eyes, breathing in the aroma of spring. Your cheeks were straining from the smile that manages to grow. The flowers made your heart blossom that it forgets about the heartache. He brought flowers. “Of course I love it, no ones ever brought me flowers before.”

Peter wishes he could capture this moment forever. His heart was swelling in size as he realizes he did that. He made that priceless smile appear on your face that he could see despite the orchids and carnations that block the bottom half of your face. Your eyes give it away, they are crinkling in the corners and sparks of joy were dancing in them as you clutch the flowers close to your heart. “Really?”

“Really what?”

“That no one has, um, brought you flowers?”

“Mhm, no. I always thought getting flowers was the sweetest thing someone could do. It’s just so classic and romantic, you know? I guess it isn’t that common.” You peer up at Peter who was glowing. He was a god-given gift. “You should sit,” you say nodding to the empty chair across from you.

If that’s the way you felt about a simple bouquet, Peter wants to shower you with flowers every day so you can feel that same warmness that made you smile uncontrollably. The love you have for the flowers made Peter want to shield you from the world. You were laying them so cautiously to make sure none of the buds get crushed, it was so pure he can’t handle it.

“So, um, how are you?” he says as he slides in to the seat.

You bite your lip considering the question. You should be disappointed and hurt, which you understandably were. It was like a punch to the gut knowing that Jonah wasn’t going to show up and how the world you built in your head crashed and burned. But then Peter shows up here. He didn’t erase the scarring of the date, but everything seemed to relax back into place like this was always meant to happen. He made the tears dry up and the pain to go away instantly. His presence lifted up your entire mood that you would have forgot about Jonah. “Not sure actually.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, I was on the verge of a breakdown like ten minutes ago, but then you show up here. Then I’m just so happy and content.”

“Oh? I make you happy?,” Peter says wiggling his eyebrows.

You pick up the menu you’ve been staring out for the past hour to hide the growing blush. You laugh as you kick him underneath the table. “I guess? I don’t know, leave me alone.”

Peter can’t leave you alone though. That’s the whole reason why he stopped patrolling to buy some flowers and went to find you at this cafe. There was no way he could go about his life when you were hurting. You deserve so much more than disappointment and heartache. You deserve the entire world for all he cares. He needs to let you know that there are some amazing, wonderful people out in the world. The world wasn’t just filled with assholes who would leave you hanging. Part of him wishes that he was originally the one going on the date with you, but that’s besides the point. Even if he wasn’t the guy on the other side of the table, he just has to know that you’re smiling.

Peter was all butterflies and blooming flowers. He always was around you. He swears that your words sound like the greatest poems ever written and that you were sunshine that could make his days better. He can see the stars in your eyes and he wants to promise you that he’ll always be there for you. He could never get tired of you. There was something about you that made him act like a confident fool. Peter finds himself not caring that he’s embarrassing himself around you, he just wants to see you smile.

And you were. The aching in your heart disappears with each laugh leaving your lips. Peter just knew what to do to make everything smooth over. It was his stupid puns to making up ridiculous stories for every stranger that walks by to buying you the most luscious flowers. Part of you knew he was putting up his best front to put you at ease, but that didn’t matter. All that matters is what was unfolding.

What was unfolding was something Peter would love to do over and over again. Time was only marked by the food growing cold and the stream of customers leaving and entering. He was able to make joke about Star Wars and ramble about his theory of Mjölnir. Maybe he was overthinking it, but he couldn’t get enough of the dynamic between the two of you. The conversation flows easily, no awkward pauses and there was endless topics to discuss. He just knows that the two of you would work out. Peter wishes that you could stay here forever but lunch has to end eventually.

You weren’t oblivious to the sparks flying between one another, but you convince yourself that it’s all in your head. This was just Peter, he was the Peter whose been your friend for years. Whatever was happening, you drown out the thoughts and bask in the moment.

The flowers are back in your hand as you and Peter navigate your way through the crowded streets. He insisted that he would walk you home for a proper ending to this day and you can’t help but smile at his offer. It was a beautiful ending to a tragic start.

The wind whips around your hair as you ask him, “Hey, why’d you buy me flowers?”

“Going full circle huh? Starting the day and ending the day with flowers,” Peter says with a laugh.

“I was just wondering.”

Peter looks over to see you using your arm as a shield against the wind to protect your precious flowers from flying away. All he can think about is how adorable you are and he wishes he could do more. “Um, I thought they would make you happy. That’s what they do in the movies too, buy flowers.”

“You’re the sweetest.” A warm buzz fills you up, but that’s what Peter does. He just makes you unexplainably happy. “Hey, turn here.”

“I heard everyone deserves flowers one in their life,” Peter says with a shrug. When he turns the corner and the apartment comes into view, a part of him deflates.

When you look over to Peter to see him with his hands in his pocket and his face flushing with color. He was precious, he could melt the coldest hearts with those words. He deserves something, he deserves the world. Maybe flowers could be a start before conquering the world for him. “Has anyone ever give you flowers?”

Peter squints his eyes, partly because of the wind, partly in remembrance. The technical answer would be yes. He’s received dozens of roses and lilies that May would proudly display in the middle of the kitchen. But that wasn’t him. It was Spider-man who got all the praise for saving the city and the reward tended to be a shower of flowers. No one has gotten him flowers for being Peter Parker. “No.”

“Then it’s decided, I’m going to buy you the prettiest flowers ever,” you tell him beaming.

Peter could feel his body start to burn up at your plan. “You, you don’t have to.”

“Mhm yeah, but I want to.” The warm air engulfs you as you walk through the doors of your complex, but not before you bump Peters shoulder while he opens the door for you.

Peters heart lurches. “Well, um, I’m just saying you don’t have to get me flowers just because I got you some. I’m not, I’m not expecting anything in return.”

“I know, but I really love the feeling that it gave me. It made so happy and mushy and stuff. I just want you to experience the same feeling because it makes you so warm and fuzzy and everything in the world seems right.”

If Peter wasn’t enchanted already, those words would have made him fall for you and you weren’t even aware. “Just from a bouquet of flowers?”

“Yeah, it’s kind of specific and weird, but it just does. It makes you feel so appreciated and loved. You’ll understand once I buy you some.”

When the elevator opens, Peter wishes he wasn’t standing there. All the sides reflect him becoming red from your innocent compliments that made him was to burst. “You don’t have to-“

“Somebody once told me that everyone deserves flowers once in their lives.” You rub your shoulder against him, completely unaware of the spell you cast on him. However, you were aware of your heart picking up the pace every time you touched.

“I guess it’s too late to take it back?”

“Yup. I’m going to buy you the most amazing flowers and you’re gonna love it.”

Peter can’t help but face you, even if his face was the same shade of a tomato. “Why would you buy me flowers?”

Peter was too humble at times, he could save the world and just shrug at it. He never realizes the magnitude of his actions. But you did. You know there was nothing forcing him to show up to the cafe, but he did. When he did, everything fell into place. He just has this aura about him that made you forget about all the bad things and appreciate life for what it is. “For being an amazing person who deserves the entire world.”

“I’m pretty, um, sure that’s you.” He closes his eyes grimacing at the hesitation. If words flowed beautifully out of his mouth, he would never shut up about the beauty in everything and everyone.

“I thought these flowers were to make me happy.” Involuntarily, your heart starts to race again.

“Well, I’m going to, going to buy you more flowers.”

“More flowers?” Maybe it was the enclosed space, but the air disappears.

Peter shrugs, not noticing the way though start to blush. “Enough to fill your entire apartment.”

“That’s a lot of flowers Parker.” Whatever was happening to you, you didn’t like it. You didn’t like being showered in endless compliments and how Peter was being sickeningly sweet. It felt like your heart was going to explode and every time you looked at him, it made you feel fuzzy. You want to punch him in the face for it. There was no way you can see him in a different light, he’s your friend. A friend that saved your day with flowers, but he’s a friend and all he should be.

“You deserve more really, you deserve every flower that’s ever existed.”

Can he just shut up with the compliments? There is no way you can fall for him, but if he keeps talking you just might. You can’t afford falling for Peter, but you know you’re close to it. He’s always been so caring and kind since you’ve met him and you would be lying if you didn’t think about kissing him one or twice or twelve times, but this time you were dangerously close to falling into him forever. It was different before, they were just random thoughts brought up through teases by friends, but you see it now. You see how you could end up dating him and what the relationship would hold. It would hold sunshine and happy days and endless support. There might be faults, but you didn’t care because you can see it clearly. You can see the good and bad and every time it becomes clearer, the closer you get to the edge.

The only way to escape this trap, was to stop giving him an opportunity to praise you. So you suck in a breath and switch the conversation around to him with “Well, you deserve those flowers and every single flower that’s going to grow.”

“That’s way too much flowers.” The elevator doors part and he doesn’t want this day to end.

“Well, I can start out by buying you a single bouquet before conquering that.”

“Why would you want to buy me flowers though, like um, why me out of everyone?” Peter asks as you fumble for keys. You lead him to your door, but he would know your apartment without your help.

You look over your shoulder as you turn your keys to see him cocking his head and his eyebrows scrunched like he had no genuine idea why someone would do that. Your heart goes out to him. “For being you. You don’t see it but you’re the most considerate, caring person I’ve ever met. You’re the embodiment of everything good and right in the world and you have no clue. Who would even show up to my failure of a date with flowers?” As the words leave your lips, you’re both equally shade of red.

“I, um don’t know?”

“Exactly.” When your door swings open, you don’t want this day to end you realize. That’s the only thought ringing through your head. Then, you know.

You’re hopelessly falling for him against every aching bone in your body. He pushed you over the edge and now you’re going be free falling right into him. Maybe it was unconscious before, but now it isn’t. It was brought to the surface against your will, that Peter had your heart. Something was telling you to run away from your feelings, but you can’t. It’s refreshing, like breathing in the scent of spring after a long, cold winter. In retrospect, you should have seen it coming, you simply can’t think about kissing someone and get over it, but you didn’t see it. It hit you out of nowhere. Now the truth runs wild in your head and everything turns in butterflies and summer days. Everything was so good and real. All you wanted to do is hold him and never let go.

“(y/n)?” Peter says cutting through your thoughts.

You shake your head, snapping yourself out of your daze, but the epiphany lingers. Something holds you back from entering and it was undoubtedly Peter. Peter who has your heart. “Thank you for the flowers and- everything.”

“It was nothing,” Peter says with a shrug.

You turn around, for one more look, one more glance. “It really meant a lot.”

Peter wants to do something more for you because that’s what you deserve. All he did was buy some flowers. “I did nothing.”

You can blame this on the adrenaline later you tell yourself as you lean over to kiss his cheek. He needs to know that this wasn’t nothing. This was everything. “You mean a lot to me.”

“I-, you-, um,” Peter stutters out but with a goofy smile placed on his face. His heart was through the roof because you were there and you kissed him. Maybe it was on the cheek, but god help him. You would think he just got married with all of the excitement running through him.

You laugh as Peter tries to organize his thoughts, but nothing comes out of him. Part of you is wondering if that was the right move, but you know it is. His smile was contagious. It was a smell step, but it was something. “I’ll see you soon Peter. I’ll have flowers when I do.”

The next time you saw him, you had flowers in hand and a blooming heart.

tagging some mutuals who may like this:

@tomshufflepuff @hollandsosterfield @theamazingspiderlingg @honeyccoated @marvelousmorales @poetrypeter @princeofsassgard

[dreamganronpa]

Flufftober Day 10 - Coffee

“A Mocha-flavored Kiss” - Sonia x Togami (requested)

"Pity, you've got something on your lip " Byakuya commented after Sonia took a sip of her drink.

"Right here?" She wiped at her lip.

He groaned. "No, the other side."

"Did I get it now?"

"Just let me handle it-" Then instead of grabbing a napkin, Byakuya leaned over the table and kissed her. He didn't let it escalate from a simple kiss- he had some sense after all- and sat back down before anyone else in the cafe could notice. 

"Got it."

-

It was a small cafe: a few tables, some booths and a counter only big enough for the register and then some. The forest green walls complemented the burgundy on the wooden floor well, simultaneously adding a relaxed atmosphere. 

As Sonia walked in, the workers- all dressed in white shirts and black pants with green aprons- greeted her. She politely smiled in return and picked a table for two to sit at. The clock situated by the register informed her that her date still had eight minutes in order to arrive on time. All she had to do was wait for him. 

Five minutes went by, and Sonia didn’t think he would show up at all. She knew he was a man of serious business, and thus he would be very careful about not ruining his image by showing up late on a date- with a princess, no less.

As she was caught up in her internal ramblings, she failed to notice the jingling of the bells as a certain man entered the cafe. It was only when he filled the once-empty chair in front of her that she realized she didn't need to wait any longer. She couldn't even be mad at his untimely arrival, seeing his disheveled appearance.

"Are you alright?" She asked, getting the obvious question out of the way. 

Byakuya waved a hand through his hair, trying to style it as best as he could. Rather than answer Sonia's question, he gave an explanation. "My maid failed to wake me at the time I requested, causing my morning time to be cut in half. It would be an act of injustice for you to blame me for my tardiness." He adjusted his glasses as he spoke. "Now, should we order drinks? I would rather not waste any more time on pleasantries."

The quick pace of the date relieved Sonia. She was never good at small talk, and found it pointless anyways. That's why she took such an eye to the heir; he understood how obnoxious fake conversation was. Almost every interaction she had with people recently had been ‘how have you been,’ ‘lovely, how about you?’ ‘oh, I’ve been great, thank you so much for asking,’ ‘no problem dear, I’m glad you’ve been well.’ On and on and on until suddenly she’s not thinking when she greets people. None of that mattered when she was around Byakuya, because he felt exactly the same way. 

Again, she forgot to notice him. He stood up impatiently, reiterating his idea. "Are you lost in thought again? Figures. People as imaginative as you tend to get lost in their own mind." He continued once she focused back on him. "Shall we order? I heard this particular cafe specializes in a butterscotch mocha blend." 

Sonia stood up in solidarity and smiled. "Why don't we try that then? It's always fun to try something new."

Byakuya returned the princess's smile, then they both walked to the tiny counter where a worker cheerfully awaited their order. 

"Hello, and welcome to the Wakey Wakey cafe!" The girl enthusiastically greeted. She was young, probably around Sonia and Byakuya's age. Also probably a new hire, judging by her attitude. "What would you like to order?"

Sonia stepped up to the counter. "Hi! I would like one large butterscotch mocha macchiato please." She ordered. The worker scribbled the order down on her notepad.

"Is that it?" She asked. 

Byakuya in turn stepped in front of the counter. "I'll have the same thing, but make it a small instead and add less milk foam. Macchiatos are meant to have more espresso in them anyways." He ordered with no sense of politeness, even judging the cafe's espresso to foam ratio before seeing it. 

“C-certainly, sir!” The girl sputtered, intimidated by Byakuya’s commanding aura. 

Smirking as he turned around, Byakuya returned to his date. “I think that went well- usually they don’t even write down my order. Maybe I’ll give this place a good rating after all.”

“Yes, I think this place has been wonderful so far!” Sonia said, clapping her hands together. “Should we sit down now, or do we wait for our order to be fulfilled?” She didn’t get around to many cafes in her country, so she didn’t understand the etiquette. Byakuya didn’t know, either. 

“They should make it more clear,” he grumbled. “I’m rather tired of standing though, so how about we sit down and let the workers do the work.”

“Alrighty then!” Sonia ran back to the booth, sliding into the seat as she did so. Byakuya followed, entering the booth with much more grace than the princess. When he sat down, Sonia giggled. “I always wanted to do that.” 

Instead of criticize her for her childish act, Byakuya chose to play along with her. It was very rare that she got to act carefree. He decided to start a conversation while they waited for their order. “So, Sonia, why did you pick this cafe? Surely not for its popularity.” 

Sonia had to think of her answer for an embarrassingly long time, humming as she formulated a response. “I think it was because something about a small, undiscovered business excited me. That way, we could form an unbiased opinion.”  

“Hard to find those these days.”

“Exactly! Plus, admittedly, I was looking forward to sharing this moment with you in a quieter place.” Her face turned pink as she shared her true motive. 

Byakuya wasn’t immune from a dusting of pink either. He quickly hid it though. “Is that true?”

“Absolutely! It’s very nice to be able to spend time with your significant other in a place where it feels like there’s no one else there. That’s why I chose this cafe.” 

“That’s certainl-” Before Byakuya could respond, a worker set down their drinks in front of them, interrupting the moment. He was kind of relieved about it though, since it was difficult for him to form a meaningful response to his date. How could he, when everything she said sent his brain into fog, only letting him speak from the heart? So he was glad for the glass that was set in front of him. 

Sonia thanked the worker, who left shortly after. Byakuya took a sip of his drink, thinking the rich coffee could clear his mind. Instead, it only fogged it up more- the drink was delicious. The butterscotch flavor was just subtle enough in order to not overpower the espresso, but still gave a balance from the mocha. Essentially, it was perfect. 

“Is it better than you thought?” Sonia asked excitedly. 

In lieu of answering her, he slid his cup across the table. “Try some for yourself.” His grin was all the convincing that Sonia needed, gladly putting the cup to her lips. The taste filled her senses, giving her the same feeling Byakuya felt moments earlier. 

All she could say was ‘wow’.

"I'm glad we agree that the drink is phenomenal." Byakuya took his cup back, eyeing Sonia's- which was heavily topped with foam and mocha powder. Would hers be just as good? "Take a sip of yours, tell me if it's any good. Don't bother lying either, since this is a serious matter." 

Sonia was curious too, so she completed his prompt. Her drink had the same flavor as the richer variant, however hers also housed a milky element. The milk made the drink taste like a candy; one that she would've been given as a child in Novaselic. It reminded her of home, in a way.

As she took the sip, Byakya noticed something by her lips: the perfect opportunity for a kiss. It was a chance he wouldn’t get again if he wasn’t careful- so of course he had to take it. But in order to play it off as an accident, he had to act fast.

Step one, get her attention. "Pity, you've got something on your lip."

"Right here?" Perfect. 

Step two, keep the lie going. "No, the other side."

She was falling for it so easily, it was almost like she knew his intentions and wanted to play along. "Did I get it now?"

Step three- perhaps the most important one: initiate the kiss. "Just let me handle it." Just like that he leaned over the table- one of his favorite moves- and kissed her. It couldn't be too long though, or Sonia would catch on. When he sat back down, Sonia had the biggest smile on her face. 

"Ah, what a surprise! It seems you tricked me." She said, her words sounding almost satirical in her cheerful voice. Byakuya felt bad for her naivety.

"There was no trick, I simply removed the milk foam from your lips." 

Sonia made a small gasp and tried to contain a giggle.  "Oh, I believe you have some foam on your lip now." 

Without even giving him any time to respond, Sonia bent across the table and kissed him just like how he had. She didn’t let the kiss last long either. As she sat down, she glanced at Byakuya, who appeared to be stupefied. 

“What? Did you not expect your own trick to be performed on you?” Sonia asked innocently, taking another sip from her now-cool drink. “Maybe I have ‘moves’ too.” 

Byakuya came out of his shock with a devilish grin on his face. “You call that a ‘move’? Please, you hardly surprised me.” 

“Oh did I not use it correctly? Forgive me, I will improve for next time.” 

“Next time, huh?” 

Byakuya might not have known it, but he hoped deep down that there would be a ‘next time’.

[ventrue-rosary]

A Flower of a Different Colour

A re-upload of this post since its broken on tumblr mobile

Autumn is mine, Kevir belongs to @theravensprince

Ko-Fi

Beepbebebeep!  Beepbebebeep! 

Autumn flings her arm ungracefully out to the alarm obnoxiously intruding upon her morning. Her fingers scrabble for the off-button, leaving her in blessed silence. 

She rolls over with a sigh, her eyes peeking open. The digital clock reads 6:30.

Autumn stretches her sleep-heavy arms and sits up, rubbing at her swollen eyes. As always, she crosses her bedroom to her windowsill, watering her cacti, succulents and pot of creeping ivy climbing up the wall next to her window. She smiles as she gently traces the leaves with her hands. Satisfied with her work, she readies herself for the day. By 7:30 she is out of her apartment, and making her way to work. Though young, she is the proud owner and worker of her own florist shop: A Rose Without Thorns. She opens shop as the sleepy neighbourhood rouses, workers sleepily stumbling to their workplace and parents sheparding their children to school. 

As with most weekdays with no major holidays on the horizon, the morning crawls by, only a few of her regulars coming by for a single flower or pot or just for a chat. As usual, her mother stops by late morning for a bouquet of roses and to drop off some of her favourite snacks.  By lunch time, work crawls by to a complete stop, but it does give her time to perfect the arrangements of the flowers outside, then slowly work her way through the inside of the shop. 

The bell above the door rings. Autumn looks up from her work to see someone a far cry from her usual clientèle.

A purple winged tiefling steps into her establishment; black jeans, black leather jacket and black combat boots that stomp heavily across the wooden floor. Tousled hair perfect frames his angular face, and impossibly dark eyes sweep across the room until they find Autumn. 

She then realises she is still knelt on the floor, openly staring. 

‘Oh--’ She averts her gaze and jumps to her feet, smoothing down the frills of here mini-apron as she hurries behind the counter. 

‘Welcome! Let me know if I can help you with anything.’

‘I’m looking to buy flowers for a pretty girl,’ he says, his voice pleasant and accented. 

‘Oh? How lovely! Do you know what kind of flowers she likes?’ Her shoulder unclench as some of the anxiety drains from her body. If he came to make trouble he likely already would have done so.

‘Not yet. What would you recommend?’

‘Roses are always a safe bet. Red roses, if it's a romantic gesture. You see, different colour roses have different meaning behind them. Pink for friendship, orange for familial bonds, white for purity and spirituality--’ She tapers off with a blush as she beholds his amused smile. ‘Sorry, I’m rambling.’

‘That's alright. I was enjoying listening to you.’

Autumn feel her blush deepen. 

He picks up a large red bouquet. ‘May I ask your name?’ he asks as he hands her the money. 

‘Huh? I-oh. My names Autumn.’

‘Autumn? Fitting. I’m Kevir. Keep the change.’

‘O-ok, thank you.’

He grins at her one last time before he leaves her shop, leaving a very flustered Autumn. 

~

As 5pm rolls around, Autumn begins to close shop, still thinking about her encounter with Kevir. She doesn't like to think of herself as judgemental, but she had thought of him as trouble when he first walked in. How wrong she had been. 

She finds herself wondering about the girl he mentioned. She hopes she appreciated his gift. 

Autumn double checks the doors are locked and turns around--right into Kevir. She squeals in shock, nearly falling right to the ground. 

‘S--sorry!’

‘I didn't mean to scare you. I did call your name a few times, didn't you hear me?’

She notices Kevir still holds the bouquet of flowers in his hands. 

‘Oh, did you want to return them? I’m sorry, you’ll have to return tomorrow--I just closed up.’

‘No, I didn't want to return them--I wanted to give them to you.’ He holds out the flowers to her

‘I’m sorry?’

‘I bought them for you. Take them.’

‘T-thank you?’

He gives her a wink and walks away, eventually heading into the tattoo parlour further down the road. 

When Autumn examines the bouquet in her hands she spots writing on the card:

07113246589

Call me! ; ) 

-Kevir

Autumn makes a noise of disbelief. He couldn't be serious. He isn’t.  Is he? She  shoves the card in her bag before making her way home. 

~

The TV drones on in the background, going unnoticed by Autumn who stares at the roses that have found a home in the vase on her coffee table. She glances at her bag across the sofa. 

She abruptly drags her eyes away, trying to focus on the drama playing on the screen. Trying and failing. 

Autumn snatches her bag and drags it over to her, pushing aside her purse, makeup and the snacks her mother had given her until she finds the small, crumpled card. 

She smoothes it over her thigh as she holds her phone in her other hand. Her finger hesitates over the digits on her screen as doubt begins to cloud her judgement.

‘Oh just do it,’ she hisses at herself

She dials before she changes her mind. Each enduring trill of the ringtone quickens her heartbeat. Then it stops with a click. She holds her breath. 

‘Hello?’

Autumn hangs up with a scream. Her head falls into her palms with a groan. She has basically committed social suicide with this guy. A good-looking seemingly kind man interested in her and she screamed down the phone at him. 

The ringing and vibrating of her phone draws her attention back to her coffee table, Kevir’s number displayed on the screen. 

She watches it ring in silent panic until it stops. She breathes in relief. Then it rings again. She turns off her phone, ending the predicament altogether. She likely had already put him off, what further harm could she do by ghosting him? 

Autumn hugs her knees to her chest, wishing she had the courage to hold a conversation with him. She let's herself fall limp on her side, still clutching her knees. Eventually, sleep finds her. 

Autumn returns to work the following morning, business as usual minus her sullied mood. She is still mad at herself for being an awkward coward. 

Around 2 hours after she opened, Kevir enters. A thousand emotions fly through her at once at their meeting, mostly abstract fear. 

‘O-oh , mood gorn--good morning!’

‘Morning yourself.’ He leans his elbows on the counter, mere inches away from her. ‘Did you, uh, did you call me last night?’

‘H-huh?’ Her voice is a few octaves higher than usual. ‘No, of course not!’ 

‘Oh,’ Kevir deflates. ‘I see.’

‘I--I mean, I wanted to!! I, um, I dropped my phone yesterday. Screen-down, it shattered, totally unusable.’

Kevir doesn't look convinced. Of course he isn’t, she's a terrible liar. 

‘I’m… I’m glad you came to see me today.’ Autumn’s changing of subject is likely very obvious, but at least she is speaking honestly now. 

‘I’m glad to see you.’ His smile is disarming. ‘Say, wanna get lunch together?’

‘Y-yes I would like that.’ She smiles shyly, toying with her hair to avoid looking him in the eye. 

‘Perfect. See you in a few hours.’

Autumn doesn't look up until she hears the bell jingle as he leaves, the smile still stuck on her face. 

She looks up at the clock. Midday can’t come soon enough. 

~

Kevir returns around 12, and Autumn feels her heart flutter as he enters. 

‘Ready?’

‘One moment!’ She pulls on her apron strings, folding it onto the chair behind the counter. She fetches her shoulder bag from the back room and takes a moment to check her reflection. She shakes her bangs and uses her fingers to even them out over her brow, smoothes down her hair and applies just a bit of lip gloss. She only wishes she had worn something a bit more exciting than a white blouse and black mini-skirt. 

‘OK, ready!’

‘Let's go. I know a little place.’

Kevir takes her to a cute cosy cafe a few blocks down, named The Pot and the Kettle. Not many patrons inside, but it means they can snag the cosiest chairs; two impossibly soft, large armchairs close to the fire with a large table between them. Being a rather tepid spring, there is no fire but there is still something comforting about it. 

A cute elven waitress takes their orders. Kevir orders black coffee and a slice of chocolate cake. Autumn asks for a white chocolate mocha and matcha pound cake. 

Kevir tilts his head at her order. ‘Sweet tooth?’

‘Very much so! I love sweets, chocolate and baked goods… Oh that must seem childish.’

‘Not at all! Food doesn’t have an age limit. I have a soft spot for them myself.’

The waitress returns with their orders. ‘Let me know if I can get you anything else,’ she says in a husky purr, talking exclusively to Kevir.

‘Thanks,’ Kevir answers, giving her only a cursory, polite look. 

He takes off his leather jacket, revealing his tattoo sleeves. Autumn daintly gasps as she beholds the artwork displayed in his skin; twisting, connected pieces of dragons, weaponry like arrows, tortured faces, skulls and even some flowers interlocked and interwoven into one overarching gothic scene. The collar of his shirt is open enough to see the tip of a black feathered wing brushing just beneath his collarbone.

‘You have so many tattoos,’ she says in awe, reaching out for his skin before remembering herself. ‘Ah, I’m sorry!’

Her hands returns to her lap, where she tugs and fiddled with the rings on her fingers.

Kevir laughs in response, straightening his arms out on the table for her. ‘It’s alright. Touch me if you like.’

Autumn hesitantly reaches out with one hand, the other clutched into a fist over her chest. Her index fingers brushes against the smooth skin of his forearm. Where the tattoos are, the skin is slightly raised, but still just as soft. Her finger follows the design of the sleeve down to the back of his hand, impossibly smooth. 

‘No one has hands this soft!’ The words slip out of her mouth before she can stop herself. ‘Oh God, that was a very weird thing to say...sorry. I just…’

Kevir rotates his hand on top of hers, smoothing his fingers over her skin. ‘Your hands are this soft.’

She glances up shyly, her flustered mind failing to come up with a response. She slides her hand out from under his, returning it to her lap, once more fidgeting with her rings. What is happening here?

‘Did it hurt?’ she asks after a short silence, still staring at his arms.

‘A little. Tattoos don’t hurt as much as everyone thinks they will. Would you like one?’

‘Eh!?’

‘I’ll give you one for free if you give me some flowers. How about it?’

‘...Could I choose what to get?’

‘Of course. And where you get it.’

‘O-ok...I guess I could get a little one somewhere...a flower maybe?’

‘Perfect! We’ll do it tomorrow.’

‘T-tomorrow? So soon?’

‘Would you rather wait?’

‘No, no tomorrow is fine.’ Her heart thunders in her chest as she says those words.  Autumn has never had good experiences with needles. ‘What kind of flowers would you like?’

‘Hmm…’ Kevir drums his fingers as he considers. ‘Surprise me. Get me some flowers you think I’d like.’

He reclines in his chair with an easy smirk, Autumn’s mind already firing off numerous ideas for species and colours.

She smiles as an idea occurs to her. ‘I think you’ll like what I have planned.’

‘Am I that easy to read?’ He sounds amused.

‘I mean...when I first saw you I thought you were going to be some ruffian who would make some trouble for me or destroy my shop’

Kevir looks less amused now, quizzing her with a raised eyebrow.

‘I’m sorry! I was wrong to be so judgemental! I don’t usually get many young people in my shop, And you carried yourself with such confidence, almost cocky. Clearly I read you wrong. So no, not easy to read…’

‘And what do you think of me now?’

He’s enjoying this, she realises. She is so very obviously crushing on him.

‘Um…’ Her fingers clench into fists as they clutch the soft material of her skirt. ‘Well, I don’t know you very well, but obviously you are very kind, a-and…’ 

‘You’re right, you don’t know me, and I don’t know you. Swap stories?’

‘I’m not terribly interesting…’ she murmurs, her hnads clenching even tighter.

‘I’m sure I would disagree. Tell me about yourself.’

She takes a deep breath. ‘Well, you know my name is Autumn. My parents, half-elf and tiefling live on the outskirts of the city. My mother is a model, my father her bodyguard. I have a twin brother in university. I like cute animals, sweet food and flowers. See? Not interesting…’

‘You're so cute.’ Kevir smiles genuinely, his head tilted as he stares at her. ‘Your mother is a model?’

Autumn nods, blushing. ‘My mother is Amaranthe Darcelle. You might have heard of her.’

‘Your mother is Amaranthe Darcelle? That must be where you got your beauty.’

‘Beauty?’ Autumn sputters.

Kevir nods. Autumn takes a large swig of her coffee, trying to buy herself some time as she tries to think of some sort of response.

She places her cup back on its saucer. ‘I, um. I think you're very handsome.’

‘Thank you. It makes me happy you think that.’

‘So you never told me about yourself,’ she says, busying herself with her cake to avoid having to look him in the eye. At this rate she was going to explode.

‘You’re in luck. I love talking about myself to beautiful women.’ Kevir reclines in his chair with a smile.

~

Autumn let's out a gasp as she looks at the clock. ‘It’s already been two hours??’

Kevir follows her gaze to the clock, looking as shocked as she feels. ‘It really doesn't feel like its been that long.’

‘Uhm, bill, please!’ She calls to the waitress. ‘I should be getting back to my shop.’

‘As should I.’

The waitress puts down a small silver tray with their bill on top. Kevir shakes his head at her as she pulls out her purse.

‘Put that away. I’m paying.’

‘I should at least pay for myself…’

‘This was my idea. So it’ll be my treat.’

‘Ok, thank you.’

They hover for a moment outside the cafe, neither really wanting to go back to work.

‘Thanks for today. I had fun getting to know you,’ Autumn said.

‘And I you.’

Kevir leans down closer and presses a soft, chaste kiss on her cheek. Autumn let's out a small gasp as her entire body freezes. The heat crawls up her neck up to her face and even her ears.

Kevir clears his throat. ‘I’m sorry. I should have asked first. I’ll see you tomorrow?’

He stumbles off without awaiting her reply. Autumn slowly raises one hand to her cheek, caressing the space his lips had just touched.

‘See you soon,’ she whispers absently to empty air.

~

Autumn takes a bunch of white roses home with her, remembering her deal with Kevir. She sets up large glasses of dye; black, purple and blue, cuts open the stems and evenly divided the rose's between them. Curling up on the sofa, she stares at the roses, hoping he will like them, until the call of sleep is too strong to ignore.

The next day arrives, bringing with it sunshine and happy thoughts. Autumn hums a small tune to herself as she goes about her morning routine, all her thoughts focused on yesterday's...date? Was it a date? Is it too early or presumptuous to call it such? 

Autumn ties the rose's together with a red ribbon, tying it into an attractive bow. Then she sets off for the day, making her way past her shop to the tattoo parlour several doors down, Devil’s Ink. The outside certainly has a gothic look, coffin-shaped windows  the opening hours painted gold onto the glass. Pushing open the heavy door, she comes onto a wooden-floored room, dimly lit by two low-hanging chandeliers. Heavy metal music thumps through the speaker system.

A bored-looking human with bubblegum pink hair mans the dark wooden counter, fingers jabbing away at her phone screen.

‘Um, excuse me?’

She does a double take at Autumn. Dressed in pink frills and a petticoat she probably is a far cry from their usual clientele.

‘Yes, sweetie? How can I help?’

‘Is Kevir here?’

‘One sec.’

She picks up a phone, which Autumn assumes is part of an internal communication system.

‘Yeah, Kevir? Some girl is here to see you, too much pink, wings--hello?’ She hangs up with a sigh. ‘He’ll be down in a minute.’

Autumn watches the set of stairs, which is in fact a two flights that lead to the same balcony, nervously thumbing the petals of her dyed roses.

Kevir appears moments later, jogging down the stairs with glee.

‘Hello, Autumn. You're earlier than I thought you'd be.’

‘Oh, sorry. I guess I’m used to the life of an early bird now.’ She holds out the bouquet of flowers to him. ‘These are for you!’

‘Thank you! Are these...did you dye them?’

She nods with a touch of pride. ‘Yep. I thought  you might like them.’

‘I do. Have you thought about a tattoo designs?’

‘I did. And I thought I’d pick one of your designs. I-if that's ok?’

‘Of course. I’m flattered. Follow me.’

He leads her up the stairs into a  private room. A large leather reclining chair takes up most of the centre of the room, set up next to Kevir’s workstation. On the left-hand wall a black leather sofa is set up in front of a long, narrow coffee table, bare except for a heavy folder. 

Peeking at the walls, she sees countless upon countless of designs, some black and white, other full colours. All of them more magnificent than the next.

Autumn looks about in awe, Kevir watching her with light amusement. 

‘You see anything you like, let me know.’

She nods, her eyes still taking in her breathtaking surroundings. Eventually she settles down on the sofa, flicking through his partfolio. She finds each and every one wonderful in its own way but one above all others draws her in. An open pocketwatch swinging on its chain, wrapped around by roses and thorns stems, a few butterflies taking flight away. It is nothing short of perfection.

‘See something you like?’

She jumps, not realising Kevir is leaning on the back of the sofa to her side, peering down over her shoulder.

‘A nice choice. Also none of my other customers have chosen it, so it’ll be unique. Now, where would you like it?’

Autumn pats the upper half of her left arm. ‘Here…’ Then realisation dawns. Her chosen outfit, though lovely in appearance just had one problem--wherever she chose to have a tattoo, something had to be taken off. 

‘Alright, I’ll get the ink and stencil ready. Just sit on the chair when you’re ready.’

‘R-right.’

Autumn walks over to the chair, hitching herself up on it, wondering if she should take her shirt off now or wait until prompted.Her heart thuds in her chest as she considers it. No one, not ever, has seen her in her underwear before. 

She decides to do it as she waits, now Kevir’s back is turned to her. She pulls the bow around her collar loose, then undoes the buttons on by one, letting it slide off her shoulders and pool around her waist. 

Kevir turns on the chair to face her. ‘Ok are you--’

His words stop as he looks at her, his eyes dropping from her face down to her torso.  She feels suddenly very embarrassed and has to stop herself from wrapping her arms around herself. Kevir quickly regains his composure, pushing a cushioned stand for her to rest her arm on as he gets to work. 

He presses the stencil to her arm, gets her to check the size and placement. After a few minor adjustments, he pulls out the needle, and her courage seems to fail her. Her breath becomes heavy and laboured, unable to take her eyes off the implement in his hand. 

‘All those are going into my arm?’

‘Are you having second thoughts?’ 

‘N-no.’

‘Are you sure? Once I start I can’t stop unless you want an incomplete tattoo on your arm.’

‘No, it’s fine. Go ahead.’

Four hours and many shed tears later, Autumn now has a fresh and wrapped tattoo on her arm.

‘I’m sorry for crying. That was embarrassing.’

‘It’s alright. I know it’s a scary and painful thing. A lot of first timers cry.’ He gently wipes away her residual tears away, his fingers lingering on her skin. ‘I’ve had big, burly grown men cry harder than you.’

She laughs softly through her sniffles. ‘Thank you.’

‘Take it easy for the rest of the day, Autumn. Wash it in two hours time, then wash it and pat dry twice a day.’ He hands her a small, white tub. ‘Apply that after you’ve washed it.’

‘Ok, thank you.’ With some difficulty due to her sore and quite tightly wrapped arm she begins to pull her shirt back on.

‘Here, let me help you.’ Amusement tugs at the corner of his lips. He pulls the shirt up onto her shoulders, fingers tracing every so slightly across her collarbone as he fastens the top button. 

‘Oh you don’t have to…’ she trails off when his fingers brush against her skin, stealing the breath from her lungs.

Then it is over all too quickly, Kevir cleaning his tattoo gun as though he hadn't fastened her shirt. She lingers awkwardly for a moment before she slides off the chair.

‘I’ll see you out.’

He takes both of her hands in his once they are outside, taking a moment to stare in her eyes before he leans in to kiss her cheek. Autumn frees one of her hands from his and places it on the side of his face, pulling him in for a kiss on the lips. They remain interlinked there, arms wrapping around each other as their lips lock together.

Once they part, they are breathless and she feels dizzy. Her eyes remain closed for a few seconds after, savouring the lingering feeling of his lips on hers.

When she opens her eyes, she meets Kevir’s, dark and alluring as a moonless night.

‘Your eyes are beautiful,’ she breathes.

‘Not as beautiful as yours. See you tomorrow?’ he asks hopefully.

She nods, beaming. ‘See you tomorrow.’

[dabble-writes]

Death’s Bride--(6)

| Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 |

Pairing:

Namjoon/Reader

Summary:

You are a Seer. What is a Seer? A Seer is someone whose sixth sense is stronger than most people’s and can see Death. You did not want to be one, you just want to be normal—yet what happens when Death comes for you? No, not for you to die—for you to be his bride.

*Based on a novel I wrote before in Wattpad by the same title*

Tags:

Romance, Fantasy, Angst

Warnings:

Violence

CHAPTER 6: REVELATIONS

“Did he believe you?”, Jisoo asked you when you exited Namjoon’s office.

“I don’t know,” You said honestly, “He seemed to, but he looked unconcerned about the death threat. Maybe that’s just a thing with being ‘death’…”

“So what are we going to do?”

“I don’t know.” You said in frustration, your mind still reeling from all that happened in that office.

“So we’re just going to leave it? So that Death would die?” Jisoo asked.

“I don’t know!”, you cried, very agitated.

Although he doesn’t love me, I would still do anything to protect him.

“I love him.” You said in realization.

Jisoo turned to you, “What?”

“I love Namjoon, I have to save him.”

“How will you do that?” Jisoo asked curiously.

You entered your room and your eyes landed on your swords.

If Jin is alive, he will continue to pursue Namjoon, a voice in your head said; it was right.

You knew then that if you wanted to save Namjoon’s existence, it would have to be you that does something. You picked up the swords. As you stared at the swords in your hands, you turned to Jisoo, a little doubtful.

“Do you think I’m doing the right thing?”. You frowned.

“You saw the noted,” Jisoo answered, “He must be stopped.”

You nodded, Jisoo is right, “Take me to his office.”

You followed Jisoo, taking long, deliberate steps. It felt strange, as if you were in a dream and not quite in control of your actions; like you were following some script. You knocked on Jin’s door.

“Come on, Jin, I know you’re in there!” You called out.

The door opened and Jin stepped out.

“Y/N? What a pleasant surprise, what are you doing here? And why are you carrying swords?”

“I am here to challenge you to a duel.”

He looked puzzled, “How—?”

You tossed one of the swords to him and, while he caught it, Jin gave you a look of surprise.

“Draw.”

“Wha—?”

You lunged your sword at Jin and he moved his sword to block it, which made the swords clash.

“Y/N, are you mad? Please tell me what’s wrong.” Jin said as he blocked another attack.

“You! You are the problem!” You answered with narrowed eyes as you clashed swords again.

“Let’s just talk like civilized people, we don’t have to fight.” Jin said as he ducked to avoid my strike.

“Oh, kidnapping people is very civilized,” you answered sarcastically as your sword nipped his arm, which caused him to bleed a little.

“God dammit woman!” He cursed and rose his sword to block yet another blow, “Where did you learn to fight?”

“A very good friend of mine.” You replied, “I think you know her. I believe her name is…LE.”

“LE? You saw her?”, Jin looked very surprised.

“Yes.” You said, faking a move and going the other way. Jin jumped out of the way in time, only to be scratched yet again on his other arm.

He grunted, “Yup, that’s definitely LE’s doing.”

You continued to fight and Jin managed to give you a few scratches as well, but nothing major.

Jin tried to talk to you again.

“Okay, I know that kidnapping you doesn’t look good on my part—”

“Oh please, there’s no accident in kidnapping me. You explained it quite clearly.” You said, cornering him unto the wall.

“You don’t understand—”

“There’s no need to understand. I understand your desire to have power, but I cannot let you take away Namjoon’s life.”

You twirled your sword around his and Jin’s sword clanked onto the floor. Jin raised his hands to protect himself, like it would do any good against your sword.

“Y/N!”

It was another voice, but you were to concentrated on Jin in front of you to pay it any mind.

LE’s #1 Rule: Don’t take your eyes from the prize.

“Y/N, please—!”

Before you could regret your decision, you thrust the sword into Jin’s chest.”

“Y/N, no!”

Startled, you let go of the sword and turned to see Namjoon running towards you. You looked back at the blood oozing from the wound and Jin’s body slumped on the floor, his eyes unfocused. You stepped back and realized what you had done.

It was like you woke up from a trance, oh crap, what happened to me?

Namjoon rushed past you to Jin and knelt next to his body. He grabbed the sword and pulled it out, more blood seeping out; he ripped some of his shirt and applied pressure unto the wound.

“What have you done, Y/N?” He growled and you gulped, barely able to form words.

“H-he was a spy, and he wanted to k-kill you so—”

“Idiot!” Namjoon hissed, “He was never a spy or was going to kill me.”

“How can you—?”

“Because he was working for me.” Namjoon spat out, “He was my spy so we could find the leader.”

“So he was a double…oh god.” You covered your hand over your mouth in horror and tears began to spill, “I didn’t mean—”

“That’s why I told you to let me handle it! Now his cover is blown and we don’t know who the real leader is.”

You sobbed, “I’m sorry, I—”

Namjoon turned away from you and tended to Jin’s wound, “Just go to your room.”

“But—”

“Go to your room, you did enough damage.” His tone was hard and you knew at that moment that he hated you.

You ran to your room, tears running without restraint down your face.

“How could I be so stupid?” You sobbed into your pillow.

“It’s okay, everyone makes mistakes.” Jisoo was seated next to you as she rubbed your back and tried to comfort you.

“They don’t murder people!” You wailed.

“You didn’t murder anyone, Y/N.”

“How’d you know? Jin looked really bad when I left.”

You pictured the blood oozing from his wound again and it took all your willpower to not throw up.

“Y/N, Jin isn’t human and we aren’t on Earth.”

“Right.” You said and found some comfort that you didn’t—well more like couldn’t—murder him, “But it was the thought, the intention. I was ready to kill Jin, and that’s what scares me.”

What’s wrong with me?, you thought, it’s as if some force compelled me to do so. Am I going crazy?

You winced as you remembered the bloody scene again.

“Sometimes we can’t control our animal instincts.” Jisoo said soothingly.

That was beyond animal instincts though, you thought miserably.

“Mind over matter, Jisoo, mind over matter.” You cried and buried your face into your now soggy pillow.

“We can’t always be perfect.”, Jisoo reminded you and you sighed.

Is it too much to ask to not be a murderer?

“Do you want some hot cocoa? It might help you calm down.”

You looked at her and silently accepted the mug. You took a small sip and felt a little better as the sweet, hot liquid went down your throat.

“Still, it makes you wonder who the real crook is.” Jisoo said and you stared at her; you didn’t consider that, in all your turmoil.

“You’re right. The real traitor is out there, running free. Who knows what he’ll be planning next.”

You took another sip but decided you didn’t want anymore; you gave Jisoo back the mug.

“Well don’t worry, we’ll catch him before he does any more damage.” Jisoo tried to reassure you; she placed the mug on the nightstand next to your bed.

“I hope so.” You said and sank down into your pillow again as hot tears rolled down your face.

“Do you want some privacy?”, Jisoo asked softly.

“Yes, you can leave now. I want to be by myself.” You tried to say without breaking your voice; you think you failed.

Jisoo nodded and left the room, closing the door behind her.

Your crying session seemed to have taken a toll on you because you felt yourself become very tired.

You really are an idiot, Y/N, you thought bitterly, you don’t deserve to live. You royally screwed up.

With those thoughts in your mind, you drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

You groaned as you woke up.

Damn, I hate crying myself to sleep.

You forced yourself to sit up and soon realized that you were not in the comfort of your room. Instead, you sat on the cold stone floor in a damp cell. You felt a wave of de ja vu.

Okay, you thought, trying hard not panic, this doesn’t look good at all. Someone must have kidnapped me when I fell asleep.

But how?

Hello, stupid, it’s all your fault. You hurt Jin, causing Namjoon to be distracted, which gave the kidnapper the opportunity to kidnap you.

You wondered how you didn’t wake up while they kidnapped you; you weren’t such a heavy sleeper.

No sooner did this thought came into your mind did a masked figure emerged from the shadows and walked up to your cell.

“So there she is, the perfect little bride.”

You couldn’t recognize his voice because it was so muffled from the mask; the figure did seem to be a bit on the short side though.

“Who are you?”, you asked.

“Is that important?”, you could hear the contempt in his voice.

“Maybe.”

“Well, too bad, I guess you’ll die of anticipation. It’ll just be easier for me.”

Is this guy serious? Is he attempting to make a joke?

“Wow, that was so funny I forgot to laugh.” You said dryly.

“You are so obnoxious.” The figure said as you heard the jingle of keys.

He opened and closed the door behind him.

Shit, he’s right in front of me. This may be the time to panic. No, wait, just calm down Y/N, You don’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you scared.

“What do you want?” You asked as you tried to appear braver than what you felt.

“Hm…let me think…” the masked figure said and took a step closer to you, “You, Y/N, are perfect bait and a wonderful addition to my little plan.”

“Bait?” You felt sick, “You mean you expect Namjoon to come for me?”

Seriously?, you thought, Bait? How did I got reduced to some cliché damsel in distress? Oh right, when I stabbed Jin and let myself get kidnapped. This day just keeps getting better.

“You are his bride, it is his fate to protect and be with you.”

He saw your hurt look and laughed a cruel laugh.

“That is rich! You actually think you mean something more to him than the prophecy? Wake up, girl, if you haven’t noticed by now Death cannot feel any emotions; he doesn’t care about you.”

You felt your eyes get watery as you heard those bitter truths spat at you. Don’t cry, Y/N, don’t cry dammit. You know this already, don’t let this jerk get to you.

You forced yourself to control your breathing and glared at the figure, “You don’t know anything. Frankly, I don’t see how that’s any of your business; you just want to kill him, so why bother with me if he doesn’t care about me?”

“You have such a haughty tone for someone who’s going to die. Who’s the prisoner here?”

You rolled your eyes, “Why are you asking that question if we both know? Do you want me to say it’s you?”

He grabbed your chin and pulled you up, which caused you to gasp in pain.

“Don’t disrespect me.” He murmured in your ear, which caused chills to go down your spine. His nails dug into your skin painfully and you bit your lip to prevent yourself from gasping in pain again.

“I-I thought I was bait. Aren’t you not supposed to hurt me?”

He laughed, “I never said that,” and harshly let go of your chin. You sank back into the floor, coughing.

This guy may just kill me, he seems that crazy, you thought and felt a new wave of fear.

“You are such a weakling.” The figure said and laughed a cruel laugh that echoed off the walls; you flinched at the sound.

He stopped and turned to you, “You disgust me.”

You glared at him as you struggled to sit up, “Not as much as you disgust me.”

Instead of getting mad, he chuckled, “You are so cute, trying to act all tough.”

“I’m glad your amusement is at my expense.” You snapped and he stopped chuckling.

“Another thing I hate about you, you have an answer to everything. You just can’t shut up, can you?”

“Who are you?” You asked him again, quite annoyed that he talked like he knew you or something. Or maybe he does. But who can he be then if not Jin?

“It doesn’t matter to you who I am, you will die anyway.”

“Die?”

He saw that you started to get up again and kicked you so that you lost your balance and fell down again; you grunted in pain as you clutched your stomach.

“Yes, die. You didn’t think you’ll come out this alive? I’ll kill you and when Death comes looking for you I’ll just kill him.”

“Y-you do know that you’ll never get away with this; Namjoon is much more powerful than you could ever hope to be.”

“Ah, but you forget that I have this in my possession.”

He reached inside his cloak and pulled out an ornate dagger.

“Tell me, Y/N, do you know what kind of dagger this is?”

“A dagger that can cause a lot of pain?, You guessed.

The figure kicked you again and you grunted again in pain, “You think you’re so funny. And smart. Of course this causes a lot of pain—but much more pain than a regular dagger.”

You bit back a sarcastic comment because you realized a person who seemed to despise you and Namjoon very much held a deadly weapon not so far away from you.

“Normal daggers kill your body, so your soul still lives and Death faithfully picks it up. This dagger was especially made to kill not only the body, but the soul.”

Your eyes widened, “Is that the--?”

“Yes, the Holy Dagger. You’ll never get to see Death ever again. How do you like being separated from the one you love?”

“How do you know I love Namjoon?”, you asked suspiciously.

“Despite it being so obvious…” The figure took his mask off. No…more like the figure took her mask off.

“You bitch.”, you growled; you couldn’t believe what you saw.

“Surprise.” Jisoo smiled sweetly at you, but her eyes showed the opposite.

Hate.

Jisoo smiled at you wickedly as she regarded the dagger she held, “Surprised?”

You know, I was right; no one suspects the maid.

“I can’t say that I’m not, but I’ve learned that nobody is what they seem.”

You remembered Jin and cringed.

Jisoo narrowed her eyes at you, “You got that right.” She continued to play with the dagger, as if it was a plastic spork instead of a deadly weapon.

“Why?” you asked, still unable to comprehend her motive.

That caused Jisoo to pause, “You can blame it all on God.”

“What?”

God? Seriously? You knew some people were angry at God, but this is taking it to another level. Yup, defiantly asylum-worthy.

“Let me explain, I lied when I said I never met my love after I died, I did and was so happy. I thought we could be together, I thought we could love each other.

“Turns out, he learned to move on with his life after I died. He even became very interested in religion and ‘found himself’ with God; he became a goddamn priest.

“When I was reunited with him, he wasn’t as enthusiastic as me. He said ‘I’m sorry, Jisoo, my only love right now is with God. I am devoted only to him’. I got so angry and screamed at him, cursed at him, tried to make him feel guilt. He just gave me a polite smile, patted me on the shoulder like some child, and said he’d pray for me.”

She looked like she was about to cry and held the dagger so tightly, her knuckles were white.

“I became angry at God. He stole my one true love, my true love! We were meant to be together. Forever.”

Jisoo glared up at the ceiling, like if God was up there.

“How did that turn into killing Namjoon and me?”, you asked, quite puzzled, and she glared at you.

“Let me finish! For the longest time I just moped about and became really whiny. Then I heard a voice that said that I should take revenge on God and the way to do so will be to eliminate Death, this special being he created.”

“You’re crazy—”

You then paused as you remembered what happened earlier with Jin. A voice like Jisoo described convinced you to kill Jin. Now you know it didn’t excuse your actions, since it was still your choice, but something or someone did put the seed into your mind; you may be hot-blooded but you’re no murderer.

“I know what you mean, I think I heard that voice too.” You said softly and looked around you as if the suspicious voice can hear you now.

Are we both crazy or is there some external force manipulating us?

Jisoo didn’t hear you, she was too busy muttering to herself angrily; it was almost as if she was arguing with herself. You saw her become increasingly agitated and knew if you didn’t do something quickly, you would be worst than dead. You couldn’t wait around until Namjoon realizes you were gone.

Jisoo was still having her internal battle, so you racked your brains on what you can do.

Well my hands and feet are bound, so it’ll be hard to defend myself or escape. I should make it my priority to try and get out of them. You then remembered the nail filer you had put in your pocket that morning so you could file your nails instead of biting them (a horrible habit you are trying to break).

You quickly thanked your luck (or God? That’d be funny) and subtly put your hand in your pocket, which was tougher than your expected.

“I still don’t see how this solves anything.” You said, trying to distract Jisoo and she looked you, as if she just remembered you were there.

“I will stop both life and death.” Jisoo said and giggled a little.

Okay, you thought, I think she officially entered the crazy train. You finally felt the rugged surface and thanked your lucky stars as you started to slowly pull it out of your pocket.

“Really? I see how you’re stopping death, but how exactly are you stopping life?” You asked, mostly to buy time.

You successfully took the filer from your pocket and started scraping it against the rope, hoping it would break. You weren’t much for prayers, but you quickly did one. Please God, let this work.

Jisoo stepped closer to you and brought her dagger up, “I don’t need to tell you. But look at that, your time is up. Good bye, Y/N, Forever.”

“No, wait!” You cried, desperate to stall her, “If Namjoon doesn’t love me, why would he come? That kind of defeats the purpose of using me as bait.”

Jisoo laughed, “You think the only reason I brought you here was for bait? No, there’s something else.”

She stepped closer and you quickly asked, “What do you mean?”

Almost done…just a little bit more…

“Once you marry Death, you won’t be human anymore.”

“What?” This caused you to stop your actions.

Y/N! Focus!

You went back to cutting ropes.

“Oh, Death didn’t mention that little fact? Guess he doesn’t know then. You’ll end up some weird Being like him. You’ll be…Life.”

What? Life? What does that even mean?

“I don’t believe you, you’re lying.”

Jisoo walked up to you and lifted your chin so you looked at her; she gave you a smile.

“Honey, the delusional one is you. Now I think I’m done talking and ready to get to the good part. Time to disappear, Y/N.”

She then thrust the dagger to your heart.