#like almost a whole ikea bag full

[uygfiug]

!!! found a second hand store with loads of cheap quality yarn !!!

[beabnormal24]

versainz + cat

I had so much fun writing this, and I have to say I am very happy with the outcome.

Versainz + cat

Max kicks the door open in a way that tells Carlos it’s not the first time he does it like that.

To be fair, Carlos can’t exactly blame him when Max’s arms are all full of way too many shopping bags filled to the brim, though in his defence he had offered to help him. Max had only been his usual adamant self, insisting that he had to be the one carrying their dinner for tonight in a pretty adorable attempt of gallantry that seems almost comical, clashing wildly with the high red flush on his pale face and the furrowed eyebrows that do not hide at all his clear discomfort.

Carlos still swallows his tongue diligently, though, thinking about how he will probably tease Max to death in the bed, after, comparing the redness of his cheeks with the one slowly swimming down towards his navel.

For now, he’ll just let himself enjoy the sight of Max’s apartment.

They’ve only been dating for no more than two months, met each other in a pub where Carlos had been practically forced to go to because Lando kept complaining about how much boring he was becoming, focused on work and clearly no more interested in being the soul of the party like the good old times.

And Carlos, of course, loves to prove Lando wrong.

He had been running late, that night, one last project that James had put on his table right the day before and that he really needed to finish up for the weekend, all the while Lando had kept sending him messages about how his friends were all already getting drunk by that point.

And sure enough, there he had found Max, at the time only one of Lando’s coworker, shit-faced and singing a really really bad cover of Rolling in the Deep. And when Max had almost fallen off a chair in an attempt to make himself heard by the whole pub, Carlos had immediately scrambled to stand behind him as Max had inelegantly fallen between his arms.

Max had blinked up at him, the freckles on his nose glinting in the yellow tinted light of the pub, his full lips slick with the condensation of his drink and his big blue eyes staring at Carlos, all lucid and almost timid.

“Are you my angel?”  Max had asked, opening his mouth in awe, and Carlos is pretty sure that was the moment he had fallen for Max, too – although not as literally.

Dating Max is probably the easiest thing of his mess of a life. He’s just as dedicated to his job as Carlos is, doesn’t judge him for being late because of last minute projects and is always willing to massage Carlos’ hair when his headaches get especially bad.

They’ve gone on their fair number of dates, fallen into Carlos’ bed just as many times, but they had never spent time at Max’s flat for- whatever reason, really, it had just been a coincidence.

But last week Max had asked him, all half blunt-half shy the way he always is, if Carlos would’ve liked to have a dinner date at his apartment because he felt like he wasn’t providing to Carlos the way that Carlos was providing to him.

Which Carlos honestly considers ridiculous, since he really loves cooking for Max and leading him towards his bed when he gets extra sleepy after late night dinners. But, again, he can’t exactly deny Max’s offer of doing it for him.

So, now, he lets Max moves familiarly in the walls of his own home as he takes in the surroundings. Much like he expected, every corner of Max’s furniture is filled with a sort of controlled clutter, all the most chaotic stuff covering the surfaces, more than two blankets thrown on the back of his couch, a two speakers’ plasma TV on an Ikea cabinet that must’ve seen better days, for the scratches on its’ sides.

Carlos laughs to himself as he closes the door softly behind himself, watching Max cursing from the kitchen as he lets the shopping bags fall on the counter tops.

“Mi casa-“ Max says, taking a few deep breaths as his body finally seems to deflate. “Es tu casa.”

“That was very bad.” Carlos tells him, but he still presses a quick kiss to Max’s cheek. “Where is the bathroom? I need to wash my hands.”

Max points at a closed door on the right side of the hallway, and Carlos takes off his jacket before reaching towards it. He has to double check, no, triple check as he gets closer to it, but indeed, there is a hole tearing the wood apart, right in the middle of the door.

What the hell?

Carlos washes his hands quickly, looking at his own disgruntled face for just a second before carefully folding the towel back on its rack.

It’s alright, Max is a great guy, he’s- he does have a bit of a temperament, sure, but they’ve known each other for two months now and Carlos has never seen him acting wild. Or, at least, not wild enough to punch a hole through a door.

Carlos takes a deep breath, convincing himself that he’s just acting anxious because he has never been here before and, truly, he is a bit like a dog who needs his time to get used to know places.

Except that, he can’t really fight off the feeling of- something from his skin, his hair standing up on alert.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Max tells him bluntly. He’s already stirring the tomato sauce on the stove, and the domestic scene in front almost manages to make Carlos forget all about the strange sensation of being, sort of, watched? Key word: almost. “Is everything alright? Are you feeling sick?” Max asks, genuine worry painting his face.

Carlos shakes his head, playing with his thumbs distractedly. “No, no. I’m- I’m okay, it’s alright.”

“Do you not like my place?” Max asks, not really hiding the disappointment in his voice. “I know I am not as tidy as you, but I really tried my best and-“

“No, it’s not that!” Carlos rushes to say, placing his hands on Max’s hips. “I love it, it’s so- so you.” He admits.

“Well then, what is it?” Max asks, cocking his head. “You’re making me worried here.”

“It’s just- it’s ridiculous, I know, but I feel like- like I am being watched?”

“Oh!” Max says, chuckling to himself. Carlos doesn’t really know what he’s finding so funny about it. “It’s probably just Sassy, she really likes to hide and stare at strangers.”

A what now?

“Sassy?” Carlos asks, looking around himself to see if he finds- he doesn’t even know what he’s looking for, really. What even is a Sassy like? “Was it the thing that made that hole through the door?”

Max laughs again, this time throwing his head back as he pats at Carlos’ chest fondly, as if Carlos is the one being silly. “Ah no, of course! That was that little idiot of Jimmy. Can you believe that he managed to close himself into the bathroom? I had to use a hammer to break down the door and take him out!”

A Jimmy? A Sassy? What the hell is Max talking about?

“What the hell are you talking about?” Carlos asks, slipping away from Max’s hold to look around in alert.

But Max doesn’t even need to answer him before Carlos’ gaze meets tiny green eyes looking up at him with black pupils turned into sharp flits, malicious.

Carlos barely contains a scream of horror. “Max,” he says, voice in a tremble. “There is a cat on the back of your couch staring at me.”

Max cocks his head over his shoulder, hugging Carlos from behind, but even his warm hands on Carlos’ stomach bring little comfort as the- the cat keeps staring at Carlos like it’s seconds away from jumping at him.

“Yes, that is Sassy and- wait, let me check.” He gets up on his tip toes, prompting Carlos to follow him, and sure enough there is another almost identical cat laying on the blankets folded on the couch, licking its paws. At least, this one is completely ignoring them. “And that is Jimmy.”

“You have cats?” Carlos asks, instinctively pressing himself back against Max’s chest. “Qué diablos-“

“Yes?” Max says, and it sounds rhetorical. Which he definitely should not. “I thought I had told you.”

“You forgot, evidently.” Carlos says though his teeth.

“Well, here are my cats, Sassy and Jimmy.” Max says, gesturing at them. He leans his head on Carlos’ shoulder, hugging his body tighter, just before he freezes. Carlos can’t see his face, but he can clearly picture the cockiness covering his expression. “Oh my- are you scared of my cats?”

“No?” Carlos says, but he can clearly hear the lie in his voice himself. “Maybe?”

“Oh my God!” Max bursts out laughing, hiding his face in the back of Carlos’ neck.

Which is terribly unfair, if anybody cared to ask Carlos’ opinion. He is not scared of cats, alright, it’s just that his mother had never liked them, and she would usually scream at the sight any time they would jump in their house’s garden.

And Carlos just- he just got it through osmosis, alright?

“How can you be afraid of these-“ Max says, interrupting himself with another giggle. “Of these adorable walking hairballs.”

Sure enough, Sassy seems to hear her father’s compliment loud and clear, since she jumps off the couch and quickly paddles her way to Max’s legs. Her long tail flicks close to Carlos’ shins as she elegantly rubs her face against Max’s ankle, and Carlos is actually proud of his own self control for not jumping away from it.

“See? They’re harmless.” Max says, crouching down on the ground to rub a hand under Sassy’s chin. She purrs in delight, her tail moving side to side against Carlos’ leg as she leans into Max’s touch.

Even though it pains him to admit it, it is quite an adorable sight.

“Come on.” Max urges him, patting next to him. “Give it a try.”

Carlos shakes his head vehemently, widening his eyes. “Ah, no, no. Thank you, I’m good.”

Max rolls his eyes, resolving to yanking at Carlos’ arm himself until he’s all but forced to kneel on the ground as well.

“Just-“ Max starts, taking one of Carlos’ hands in his. His palm is soft, the callouses from his pen barely noticeable as they pass over Carlos’ knuckles in a gentle gesture, and he slowly brings Carlos’ hand towards Sassy’s head, pressing it over the morbid fur. “See? Delicate.” Max says, curling his hand over Carlos’ until he is effectively caressing at the lighter spot on Sassy’ head.

She starts purring immediately at his touch, closing her eyes and rubbing her face against Carlos’ palm, her ears folding under the weight of it. Carlos can feel the rumble of her meows through his own hand, and it is a very different sensation than the one he would’ve expected from cuddling a cat.

Jimmy reaches them soon after, probably feeling left out as his sister gets all the snuggles, and he starts demanding attention as well by rubbing his body against Carlos’ knees.

Carlos chuckles delightedly, using his other hand to start scratching under Jimmy’s chin, revelling in the way he quickly starts to purr softly, too, as if there is something magic in Carlos’ touch.

Carlos only realises that Max has disappeared from his side when he hears the click of a camera above his head, and when he looks up to search for the source of the noice, he’s met with blue eyes filled with mirth hidden behind a phone.

“What?” Carlos asks, knowing damn well that Max is fighting the urge to say I told you so.

Incredibly, though, he does not. Instead, he pockets his phone, bending down slightly to press a lingering kiss to Carlos’ lips, sweet, chaste, just a soft peck that soon moves from his mouth to the tip of Carlos’ nose.

Max looks at him, smiling in that way that makes the corners his eyes get all crinkled, and his irises glint with happiness. The same one that Carlos is starting to think he might even love.

“You’re the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen.”

[scaryscarecrows]

“You should sleep–”

“No.” Antoine doesn’t so much as look up from his laptop. “No. M’not–” There’s a shudder, almost imperceptible, an old mask sliding into place. “M’not gonna sleep anyway, after that.” He spares an easy grin Mark’s way, the one Mark knows has gotten him freebies before. “M’fine.”

“Put that away, it doesn’t work on me,” he says bluntly. “Fine. Just keep your ass outta my way or I’ll throw you out myself.”

“Mm-hm.” And just like that, the grin’s gone and he’s settled back into the chair he’s been in since this morning. “Patrol found some of Crane’s notes. Jimmy’s uploading them now, says he’ll be done in about an hour.”

Good. It’s been a hell of a night, nobody’s been sleeping much to begin with–always the pre-op excitement, last-minute preparations, you know–, and that last, frantic retreat to base…the boss’s notes on Scarecrow’s bullshit are pretty thorough, but Mark wants as much as he can anyway, to avoid…interactions. Or at least try to.

Honestly, he should force the issue of sleep. He really should. They all need the rest. But Antoine’s a stubborn little shit and Mark knows, even if he doesn’t know every last nitty-gritty bit, that this whole fiasco has triggered something bad. So he lets him be in favor of reaching over to adjust the oxygen mask and take the boss’s pulse (machines lie, his training doesn’t) and triple-check the IV. 

“I’m gonna grab a snack. Want something?”

“Nah, I’m good.” The easy grin comes back. “Don’t trust you not to drug me.”

Mark rolls his eyes.

“Don’t tempt me.”

* * *

Have you slept at all? Jimmy types out. For several minutes, there’s no answer and he thinks that maybe that’s done it, gotten Antoine to realize what time it is and go, ‘shit, bedtime’.

Have you?

Oh. Fuck him, then. He wasn’t supposed to flip this back around, that’s not how life works!

A little. I have the Green.

Don’t nag or I’ll tell Mark.

That motherfucker. He’ll do it, too, Jimmy knows he will. He doesn’t fight fair. Probably comes with being the Little Brother, but still.

I’ll sic Frank on you, he warns. 

Fuck off. I’m fine. There’s still an invasion to run, y’know.

Jimmy can’t help it. He does The Office stare. There is an invasion, true, and now they have a mad Bat to track, but really. Literally anybody else can manage this for a few hours. Antoine stubbornly refusing to budge from that crappy-ass IKEA chair is not going to make Batman materialize.

Whatever, he finally types. It’s your ass.

Get me the Dragon drone footage for Arkham, comes the quick reply. You redeploy a Cobra out there yet?

Oh my God. 

YES. It’s not there yet. 

Christ.

* * *

“Dude, have you moved at all?”

Antoine looks like hot death. Trent’s thinking he should maybe just pick him up and put him to bed like a toddler.

“Yes.”

“Lecturing the troops does not count.”

“Sure it does.” Taptaptaptap. “You asked if I moved. You didn’t say it had to be preapproved.”

Screw picking him up. He could bitchslap him into unconsciousness. It would work. It would be in his best interest, even. It wouldn’t even have to be a full bitchslap, probably; those dark circles say that a good, hard flick to the side of the head would put him down, but Mark’s such a nag about head trauma…

“Two hours of sleep is not gonna make or break it.”

“M’fine.” TAP. TAP. TAP. “S’what coffee’s for.”

Trent sighs. He’s not surprised. Honestly, the Knight had been equally annoying when Antoine went down from what turned out to be a helluva flu. Mark had banned him from medical because of contagion risk–none of them had been allowed in for the first two days, actually–but he hadn’t exactly taken it well, either.

Fucking dumpster fire.

“Whatever, dumbass. Want me to bring you anything?”

“The report from the last Miagani patrol and a bag of Zapp’s?” 

Well. At least it’s not a request for fucking Adderall.

“Fine.”

* * *

Riley doesn’t even bother nagging, asking, or suggesting. He just drops his old Souls flask into Antoine’s lap with a curt, May as well.

“What’s in it?”

Spiced rum. Not drugged.

It’s really not. Riley had considered it, honestly, but that trick will only work once and really, it’s not to that point yet. If he wants to be stiff in that stupid chair, that’s his problem.

“Thanks.” He doesn’t open it, but there. Riley’s done his bit.

The boss hasn’t woken up at all, but Mark did take him off of oxygen yesterday, so that’s something. The fear toxin’s out of his system, too, but he’s still, well, hella fucked up. Tends to happen when a whole-ass building comes down on you. The fact that he walked outta there is…well…it’s great and all, but Jesus Christ, how stubborn can you be?

It’ll help, he says, and taps the flask. Drink it.

“I will, I will,” comes the absent reply. Then, “I want access to GCPD’s interior cameras. Think you can help Jimmy get it for me?”

Riley would almost be offended at the question, if the circumstances were different.

One hour, he says. Maybe take a power nap or something.

“M’good. Have fun.”

Drugs are too nice. Riley votes for a chokehold. He’ll check with Mark when he gets back. A little tiny bit of damage isn’t that bad, surely. He’ll even apologize, if it helps.

* * *

Frank intends to lay down the law, really he does, but when he comes in, Antoine’s asleep. Like, out cold asleep; his laptop’s hanging on like grim death and he’s wadded into his flannel and definitely heading for a cricked neck, but he’s asleep.

Fucking finally.

He takes the laptop first, closes it up and sets it aside, before stepping out for a blanket.

“Any luck?” Mark asks. Frank shrugs.

“He’s out, I’m not gonna wake him.”

“Out?”

“Yep.”

“I’ll take it. Fucking family dumbasses, I swear to God–”

“Shh.” Frank flicks out the ratty old squishy blanket Mark keeps in his main office. “It’s your own fault if you wake him up now.”

He heads back in, tucks the blanket around Antoine as best he can without disturbing him, and sighs. This is not ideal. Not even a little bit. But it’s better than nothing.

“Mm–” Antoine shifts a bit, hand coming up to clutch at the blanket around his shoulders. “Da…”

“Shh,” he whispers. “Go back to sleep.”

“Hrm…”

He jogs back out before anything else can happen. Mark frowns.

“Fuckin’ idiot,” he grumbles. “Just go to bed.”

“He’s a grown-ass man,” Frank points out. Mark rolls his eyes.

“You sure?”

“Pretty sure.”

[firespirited]

Finds over the past two weeks

Ken was in a bag of electronic toys like cars and clocks placed next to the red cross textile collection bin which was broken - rubbish bags of clothes piled up gets people thinking it's some sort of drop off site - the next day the clean and mostly like-new clothes all got tossed filling 3 bins at the cemetery 500 yards away. He needs a quick boil for his cheek scar and he'll be good to rehome.

// I have a whole rant about those "red cross" collection bins (99% is bought up by refashion and exported, drowning local textile economies) but mostly i'm annoyed they have no interest with coordinating with local reduce, reuse, recycling efforts which would have just required a 5 minute drive. There are two charities and two job training places (for ex-cons and folks with resume gaps) that specialize in recycling: both for resale, crafting supplies and industrial purposes (jeans become insulation for example). It's one thing to have strict rules about items being in a set condition inside the metal bins and another to just drop any excess in the landfill when the town is working hard to reducing it. //

Someone's Weird Barbie (ok she's a clone), solo shoes and clothes were beside the bin outside my building with a large amount of blind box packaging, broken potato heads and fast food type toys. Looks like someone did a sweep of the toy box remnants after keeping all their faves. Cali Girl Blaine's top and the Benetton jacket are grail items so I was delighted. Couldn't bring myself to damage a barbie either so I might keep Weird Clone once I'm sure she won't damage other dolls.

The mini items were sorted from a bag full of playmobil, a couple of plastic pet sets and similar sized figurines (policeman etc) dropped next to an ikea flower lamp and some HP bedroom mats at some bins. I sorted and cleaned all the playmobil, 1/6th scale pet sets, the lamp and baggied it to send to the charity shop.

I've kept the shoes (I never have enough shoes for my dolls LOL) and the Star Wars mini toys (micropops - now that i've looked them up they seem to be French supermarket rewards), the rest went into the freebie drawer. Yes, I went "IS THAT a toy for dolls sized Max Reebo?!!?" like some glub shitto starwars nerd. There's a doll sized Roger the droid and a Jawa toy. Amazing. Iconic.

Two things in this life will almost always hit the kawaii spot:

Things that look like other things (stationary shaped like sweeties, bags that look like crisp packets or n95s, lipstick but it's a letter opener knife...)

Things that are miniature versions of the thing, cuteness squared if they are 1/6th or scaled to be doll sized to 1/6th dolls.

[mint-moon25]

ROSS - DRESS - 4 - LESS

BIBLE - 'RICH - RULE - OVER - THE

POOR'

BIBLE - 'OPPRESSION - AND

ROBBERY - WHAT - THEY YES

CHOOSE - 2 - MAKE CERTAIN

RICHES'

WHAT - AMERICAN - ROSS - BUYS

HOW - MUCH - PROFIT?

ANSWER - ROBBERY

4TH - 'UNREASONABLE SEARCHES'

$800,000 - PER - INCIDENT - AND

OR - IMPRISONMENT

ROSS - DRESS - 4 - LESS

MANY - BLK - MALES - OF - THEIR

BISCAYNE BLVD

BECAUSE - I - BOUGHT - 3 - HAD 2

SEE - ALL - 3 - BECAUSE - ME

WRINKLED - PRUNE - BAG

NOT - BUSY - SO - BLK - MALE

HAD - 2 - CHECK - EACH - ( 3 )

'OPPRESSION - AND - ROBBERY

THEIR - CERTAIN - RICHES'

THEIR - PROFIT - 2 - PAY - FOR

THEIR - SWAT - TEAM

CUSTOMER - SERVICE

HOW - MANY - 2 - TRY - ON

HISPANICS - AND - BLKS

MIAMI - FL

NO 1 - 4 - CRIMINALS - IN

THE - WORLD - THE - WORKERS

OF - MIAMI - INCLUDING - THEIR

STORAGE - UNIT - BLDG

WE - LEAVE - PIT - UGLY - MIAMI

IKEA

LIKE - WALMART - PUBLIX

WHOLE - FOODS

'FIREARM - FREE - ENVIRONMENT'

AS - THEY - SELL - KNIVES

FIREARM - BULLETS - LIKE - NICE

FIREPLACE - INSIDE - BODY

BECOMES - ITCHY - THEN - TRULY

SUPERNATURAL - SLEEP

STABBING - IS - NASTY

SHOT - AT - IS - BETTER

BUT - US - FIREARMS - QUITE LOUD

NASTY - THINGS - CAN'T - LAND

WHERE - U - WANT - LOVING - THAT

MADE - IN - GERMANY

BETTER - FIREARMS 2

GERMAN - PRIESTS - NO - LONGER

IN - COLLEGE - OF - ST AUGUSTIN

DASMARINAS VILLAGE - KIDS - YES

ELEMENTARY - SCHOOL

BECAME - NO 1

BUT - THEY - LEFT

WITH - SPANISH - PRIESTS - THEY

STOLE - ONE - OF - MY - SCHOOL's

PRIVATE - ONE's - UNIFORMS

THAT - SCHOOL - BAD NEWS NOW

GERMAN - PRIESTS

MUNICH - GERMANY

DURING - TYPHOONS - HURRICANES

WHEN - KIDS - FLEW - IN - AIR

THEY - JUMPED - UP - LIKE - BASKETBALL

CAUGHT - LIKE - A - FOOTBALL - AND - YES

LANDED - LIKE - A - RUNNING - BACK

COLLEGE - FOOTBALL

KIDS - 'ALMOST - TOUCHDOWN'

AS - THEY - ALL - SCREAMED - IN - DELIGHT

ALL - RAN - 2 - SAFETY

THAT - MAKATI - AREA - HAS - TYPHOONS

GUADALUPE - MAKATI - NONE - WHATSOEVER

AGAIN - ANOTHER - GROUP - OF - KIDS

ONE - FLEW - IN - THE - AIR

ANOTHER - GERMAN - VIRGIN - PRIEST

JUMPED - UP - LIKE - BASKETBALL

CAUGHT - LIKE - A - FOOTBALL - AND

LANDED - LIKE - RUNNING - BACK

THEY - SCREAMED - 'TOUCHDOWN'

AND - IN - DELIGHT - ALL - RAN - WITH

THEM - 2 - SAFETY

MY - MEMORIES - OF - GERMAN PRIESTS

COLEGIO DE SAN AUGUSTIN

DASMARINAS - VILLAGE - MAKATI

I'M - CERTAIN - THESE - MUNICH

AUGUSTIN - PRIESTS - LEFT - FOR

THEY - WERE - 2 - POPULAR - 2 - THE

HIGHER - POLITICS - OF - MANILA

THEY - WERE - COPYING - KOREA KR

ONLY - ONE - GROUP - MAKE - LAWS

OF - KOREA - EVERYONE - OBEYS

USUALLY - MARRIED - MEN

OLD - MARRIED - MEN

EASY - 4 - US

OUR - AUTO - BLADES - ON - THEIR

THROATS - WHEN - THEY - WAKE UP

USING - OUR - MACHINES - NOW - AS

WE - OVERTHROW - GOVERNMENTS

USA

KOREA

PHILIPPINES

300 MILLION - CHINESE - MALE

SOLDIERS - SINGLE - NO - CHILD

GIFT - CARD - $14.90

EBL - AA - RECHARGEABLES

CHEAPER - 1 AA - NEEDED - 2

IKEA - $9.99 - BUT - ONLY - WHITE

AND - BLACK - SIDES

DISPLAYED - RED - BUT - WAS YES

ALL - SOLD

SUNDAYS - FASTEST - 2 - GET - 2

IKEA - AND - DOLPHIN - MALL

1 HR - 20 MIN

WEEKDAYS - 1 HR - 40 MIN

2 HRS - 05 MIN

WHY - WOULD - METROBUS WANT

ANYONE - MOTHERS - KIDS - NOT

IN - SCHOOL - YET - ENJOY

SHOPPING - MALLS - SHORTER

TIME - MIAMI - CREATED - FOR

21 AND OLDER

DRUNKS

WORKERS - 18 AND OLDER

NO - DANCING - BUT - IN - YES

BUSES - LOUD - MUSIC

MIAMI - FL

FAT - PEOPLE

ALL - THE - WAY - ALL - THE

TIME - AS - STRANGERS

HISPANICS - ESPECIALLY

NO - GREAT - CHURCH

DOWNTOWN - MIAMI 2

$300 - PER - HOUR

BLONDES - ILLEGAL

PROSTITUTES

I'M - BUYING - AT - AMAZON

BECAUSE - DON'T - HAVE - 2

OPEN - BAG - AFTER RECEIPT

SHOWN - JESUS - IS - LORD

DEAR - KOREAN - GIRLS,

YOU'RE - SO - HIGH TECH

FULL - OF - MURDERS

WHY - WOULD - KOREAN - BOYS

UNEMPLOYED - HAVE - U ENJOY

7-ELEVEN

FREE - BOILING - WATER

RAMEN - NOODLES

TRIANGLES - SEAWEED

FRIED - RICE AND TUNA

WHY - WOULD - KOREAN - BOYS

ALLOW - U 2 - LIVE - WHEN YOU

ARE - RICHER - BECAUSE - SO

MANY - PLACES - WHY U WANT

2 - SPEND - SPEND - EAT - EAT

FUTURE

HDG - BANKS

TONGUES - 500 BILLION - WON

SING - TONGUES - 500 BILLION WON

TAX - PAID

LEGAL - PERMIT

BETTER - HOTELS - BETTER - APTS

BETTER - WORK - BUILDINGS

BETTER - CAFES - BUFFETS - ALL U

CAN - EAT

RELIGIOUS - ENTRY

NO - TONGUES - NO - ENTRY

MINT & MOON

TONGUES - 2 - ENTER

EACH - TIME - 2 - ENTER

APP - OR - DIGITAL - ENTRY

SPEAK - TONGUES - YOUR - PASSWORD

500 BILLION - WON - TAX - PAID

THEREFORE - WE - ARE - RICHER THAN

BTS - ROCK - STARS - ACTORS - UNTIL

WE - START - GBC - FILMS - STUDIOS

TANAKA - FILM - STUDIOS

SO - STARS - WILL - WANT - 2 - MARRY

YOU - NOT - OTHERWISE

BUT - CHINESE - ZODIAC - CHEMISTRY

2 - MARRY - YOU ...

WE - WILL - PAY - 4 - YOUR - WEDDING

DAY - IF - I - HAVE - CHINESE - ZODIAC

CHEMISTRY

KIEUN CHOI - AMERICAN - KOREAN

HER - CHRISTIAN - HUBBY

LOVED - WHERE - SHE - WED

LOOKS - LIKE - UGLY - BUILDING 2 ME

RULES - RULES - RULES

OURS - VINEYARDS

OURS - BEIRUT - LEBANON - BUILDING

OUR - WEDDING - DAY

FIVE - STAR - HOTELS - COMING - UP

THINKING

MOON & STARS - HOTELS

LIKE - $0.25 - EACH - NIGHT

24 HRS - ENTRY

CHECK - OUT - 3P KST

WORLD - RECORD

DRY CLEANING - UNITS

WASHER - AND - DRYER

VENDING - MACHINES - INSIDE

FOOD - AND - DRINK

NOT - 2 - WORRY

REFILLED - FR - WALL

NO - ENTRY - NEEDED

THIN - REFRIGERATOR

KITCHEN - INCLUDED

IRON - STEAMING - AND - MORE

2 - THE - POOR

END - OF - OUR - MISERY

TOKYO - JAPAN - SMALL

COCOONS

SMALL - COFFINS - ACTUALLY

BIBLE - 'RICH - RULE - OVER THE

POOR' - TOKYO - JAPAN - MASTERED

RICH - RULING - OVER - THE - POOR

GIRLS - SEPARATE

LOWEST - INCOME - OF - JAPAN

THEIR - NO - LOCK - ALLOWED

BEDS - BECAUSE - JAPAN - HAS

ALWAYS - BEEN - ORGY

4 - MALES - 1 FEMALE

4 MALES - 2 FEMALES

JAPAN - HAS - ALWAYS - BEEN - ORGY

BUDDHISM - CONFUCIANISM

HOTELS - NO - LOCKS - ALLOWED

BEDS - BECAUSE - WHEN - JAPAN

MALES - NEED - ALL - THE - WAY

DRUNK - FEMALES - THEY - GO YES

ALL - THE - WAY - AS - THEY - GO

HOME - 2 - OSAKA - NAGOYA

PREGNANT - THAT - IS - JAPAN

BUT - THERE's - MY - MOM

AN - OTAKU

SINCE - KIDS - OBSESSED - WITH

MARRIAGE - AND - JAPANESE

ANIMATION - OBSESSED - WITH

ANIMATION - DAILY - AND - YES

MARRIED - 2 - HAS - SAME

PASSION - 4 - JAPANESE - ANIME

2 - COMBAT - IMMORAL - JAPAN

SO - I - CHOOSE - SOUTH KOREA

MOST - BEAUTIFUL - HOTELS WITH

KOI - FISHES

MOSO - BAMBOO - INSIDE

INDOOR - OUTDOOR - MASTERY

$0.25 - PER - DAY - HOTELS - INNS

AS - WE - LEAVE - POVERTY

WHERE - PART - TIME - WORK - OK

TIME - 2 - START - OUR - BUSINESSES

OURS - WILL - BE - RELIGIOUS ENTRY

2 - DECREASE - ARMED - ROBBERY

OURS - THEIR - WEAPONS

DISAPPEARED - AND - 2 - MUCH

PULSE - OF - HATRED - JEALOSY

PULSE - OF - HATES - KIDS

PURLSE - OF - HATES - FEMALES

AS - THEY - DISAPPEAR

RELIGIOUS - ENTRY - BETTER

CUSTOMERS - TIME - 2 - HAVE

OUR - BUSINESSES

MOON & STARS - INNS

MOON & STARS - HOTELS

MINT & MOON - STORES

DEAR - KOREAN - GIRLS,

WE - HAVE - A - CHANCE - 2 - MAKE

SEOUL - KOREA - AND - THE - REST

LAND - THAT - MUST - B - HEALED

WATER - AGAIN

RAIN - AGAIN

AS - WE - DISAPPEAR - CRIMINALS

LITTLE - BY - LITTLE - BUT SURELY

HAVING - KIDS

ADOPTING - KIDS

THEN - ALL - THE - WAY COUPLES

MORE - ENJOYING - BABIES

MORE - ENJOYING - CLOTHES - ON

BABY - CRYING

KOREAN - HUBBY - WANTS - ALL THE

WAY - AS - WE - PAVE - THE - WAY - 2

ENJOYING - BEING - MOTHERS

NO - LONGER - IMMORALLY TOUCHED

THIGHS - OPEN - 4 - ENTRY

BREASTS - TOUCHED ...

KARA - 'DAMAGED - LADY' - ALL - HAVE

BEEN - KISSED - AS - THEIR - BOYS

FLIRTING - WITH - WAITRESSES

FLIRTING - WITH - RICH - GIRLS

NO - MORE

JESUS - IS - LORD

TIME - 2 B - MOMS

TIME - 2 B - UNWED

TIME - 2 - MARRY - TONGUE SPEAKERS

TIME - 2 - MARRY - SINGS IN - TONGUES

BUT - WHEN - KIDS - VOMITING

KIDS - MUST - B - TAKEN CARE

OF - DEAR - KOREAN - GIRLS,

APP - 2 - END - MARRIAGE

CLICK - ( ) - MARRIAGE - ENDED

I - HAVE - GUARDS

'GUARDS - BRING - HIS - THINGS

OUT - NEVER - EVER - LET - HIM

NEAR - ME - OR - US - AGAIN'

REACH - 4 - APP

CLICK - END - MARRIAGE

HIS - STATUS - DIVORCED

ANNULLED - NOW SINGLE

DEAR - KOREAN - GIRLS,

WE - HAVE - A - CHANCE - WITH KOREA

MINT & MOON

PRINTED - GOODS - ALSO

TEAM - SEOUL

TEAM - HONG KONG - ISLAND

BOTH - OF YOU - AS - EMPLOYEES

WILL - COMPETE - FOR - OFFICIAL

TEAM - ASIA

TEAM - NAPLES

TEAM - CARMEL

COMPETING - 2 B - OFFICIAL - YES

TEAM - USA

WINNER - TAKES - ALL

EACH - TEAM - MEMBER

WHO - WINS - GOLD

$500 BILLION - X 5 - TAX - PAID

DIAMOND - TEAR - SHAPE - BIG

DIAMOND - NECKLACE - AND - GOLD

OUR - GOLD - MEDAL - SUB

SMALL - DIAMOND - TROPHIES EACH

3 LARGE - DIAMOND - TROPHIES

ONE - DISPLAYED - TEAM - PAID

$500 BILLION - PER - YEAR - TAX PAID

FEMALES - LARGE - BOUQUET - OF

FLOWERS - MALES - SMALLER SIZE

AT - LEAST - WINNINGS

WHAT - WE - NEED - IN - THIS - WORLD

DISTRACTIONS

BIBLE - 'MONEY - ANSWERS EVERYTHING'

SO - ORDERING - FR - AMAZON - A CLOCK

JUST - GOT - 1 FEMALE - FOLLOWER

AT - FACEBOOK

MINT & MOON

CHANGING - DESCRIPTION

FACEBOOK - INSISTED - ON - MY - NAME

AND - BUSINESS - PAGE

THEY - WANT - FORMER - AMAZON CEO

NAME - AMERICANS - ALWAYS CONFUSED

ABOUT - PRIVACY - FR - POOR - 2 - RICHES

PRINT - BUSINESS

SHIRT - ONLY

EARNINGS - $1 MILLION - EACH - YEAR

SO - 2 - OBTAIN - WE - WILL - THANKS 2

JESUS - IS - LORD

[douglass-fir]

"There was only one bed" but it’s Jinkook accidentally locked in an IKEA tiny-house model.

They only meant to nap for a moment. Just “rest” their eyes for a bit during a hectic day of shopping. But when they awaken in a quiet IKEA, locked in a tiny-home model, Jungkook leaps into action.

Cell service sucks in the metal-roofed warehouse. But Jungkook manages to find a brief window of service—not to call the police, but to search YouTube for survival tips.

“Hyung—it says we have to shelter-in-place,” Jungkook yells as he strips the pillows off the couch to build a “fort” in the living room.

With little cell signal and zero work responsibilities beating down his door, Seokjin declares this the “best day of his life” and promptly plops face-first on Jungkook's pile of cushions for a nap.

Meanwhile, Jungkook works out their "survival game plan". During this time, Jungkook builds a proper pillow fort (around a sleeping Seokjin), and collected all the sample food in the kitchen into one "emergency rations corner".

He grabs a string of fairy lights from the wall and re-routes it to cast a calming glow in their pillowy safe-house.

Jungkook reads that warmth is a "key to survival", so he takes the most important step of crawling into the pillow fort, wiggling up to Seokjin's chest and wrapping his arms around him to keep him warm from the chilly warehouse air.

Seokjin cracks an eye open to the sight of fairy lights under a canopy of blankets, Jungkook's warmth around him.

"You take such good care of hyung, Jungkook-ah," he whispers with a fond smile. He kisses the top of a sleeping Jungkook's head, and pulls him closer before falling back asleep.

But Jungkook heard every word, and feels chest fill with warmth, so proud that he was able to properly care for his hyung.😌

That was truly all he ever wanted.

******

Jungkook wakes a few hours later nestled in Seokjin’s arms, tucked away in their little pillow fort when he realizes…he needs a bathroom.

Like now.

So he tiptoes around Seokjin, snoring in their pillow fort, and stacks chairs and tables until he can scale the wall and quietly unlock the door to the tiny house from the outside.

Seokjin startles awake later to the sound of Jungkook plopping down beside him.

“Hyung, look!”

Seokjin wipes the sleep from his eyes to see Jungkook holding a massive bag of gummies, and Seokjin instantly knows he fell in love with the right man.

“Jungkook-ah, we’re free?” he asks with a sleepy mouth full of candy.

“Yeah…" Jungkook says with a sad smile. "I guess we are. I mean…the warehouse is still locked. But we have the whole place to ourselves!"

“You know what this means, don’t you, Jungkook-ah?”

“We call the police to unlock the doors?”

“Shopping cart race!” Seokjin says as he stands, dusts his hands off, and takes off running.

Jungkook and Seokjin spend the next hour racing flatbed carts down the aisles, assigning the winner based on the best 2 out of 3.

Then 3 out of 5.

Then 6 out of 10.

Next, they raid the candy wall and Seokjin’s heart melts at the way Jungkook stuffs his bunny cheeks, making an angry face when something tastes too good for words.

Then it’s off to the furniture aisles to conduct “important research”—jumping on each bed, and rating it on a scale of 1-10 for its ability to handle “acrobatics and sex stuff.”

Seokjin eventually bounces to the floor and stretches. “Be right back, Jungkook-ah. Hyung’s gotta use the restroom.”

He heads to the back of the warehouse, does his business, and is running back toward Jungkook’s voice—when he stops in his tracks.

It’s a door. An employee exit door.

He gently pushes on the handle.

It’s unlocked from the inside.

Seokjin quietly peeks his head out, a cool breeze hitting his face as he hears Jungkook’s laugh echoing in the distance.

“Oh my god, hyung, you gotta try this bed! I almost did a flip!” Seokjin hears faintly.

Jungkook sounds like a kid again. Vibrating with simple joy, without a care in the world.

Seokjin’s heart clenches and he purses his lips. He knows what he has to do.

“Be right there, bun,” he shouts as he lets the door close behind him, running back toward Jungkook.

He never mentions the door. 💕

twitter | ao3

[boldlyvoid]

Amoreena | Chapter two

Chapter Two

summary: Heaven is a real place and it's located exactly 14.6 miles away from the FBI, Quantico Headquarters. Off behind a small park, under a fantastical willow tree surrounded by wildflowers, in every colour young minds can imagine.

Don't forget, heaven also comes with angels.

Warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, depressed spencer, reader has a daughter, falling in love, strangers to lovers

word count: 6k

a/n: this is set May 2021 in my brain just in case anyone was wondering while reading it !! here is the pinterest board and the spotify playlist for the fic too!

from the beginning <3

They were sitting on the steps of the Smithsonian when he arrived. Y/N was a vision in a yellow blouse and blue jeans, basking in the sun's rays when she looked more like sunshine herself, throwing seed at the birds with Amoreena.

He took a deep breath and smiled, waving to get their attention.

“Spencer!” Amoreena cheered, running down the steps and into his arms. Almost knocking her hat off as she leapt into his arms.

“Oof,” is all he can say as he makes sure to catch her, surprised to get this sort of reaction from someone.

She fixes her hat and leans back in his arms, “do you like my outfit? I’m the old man from Tarzan and mom is Jane!”

He sets her down then, watching her stick a foot out so he can get a good look at her olive-coloured jean shorts, button-up shirt and blue bowtie and brown boots. She went all out for her adventure today, making his heart burst.

“I looked into that Milo guy,” he says, showing off his own outfit. Pushing his glasses up and adjusting his red bowtie.

“You look just like him!!!” She was beyond excited, turning to Y/N who was all smiles on the steps.

She stood as they walked towards her, “mom look, he’s Milo!”

“You look great,” she complimented him, that twinkle in her eyes back as she blushed.

“Thank you, so do you,” he said softly. “Both of you are dressed for the right adventure today.”

“What do you have in store Mr. tour guide?” Y/N teased, taking Amoreena’s hand and walking into the museum.

“Dr. Tour guide,” he corrects her softly, making her smile and shove him lightly.

“Sorry,” she teased him, “Doctor tour guide, what is your plan for today?”

“I bought 3 tickets ahead of time,” Spencer admits, taking three lanyards out of his jacket pocket and handing them each one. “We have special access today, just show the guards these and we can go almost anywhere.”

“Are you sure you don’t work here? Not even undercover?” Amoreena interrogated him, narrowing her eyes as she watched his response.

He laughed, “I promise, I helped them on a case once, and my old boss knows the curator, they owed me a favour.”

“Old boss?” Y/N catches it.

He nods lightly, “he quit a while ago to have a family.”

“Smart man.”

“I sent in my letter of resignation last night,” he adds, “if you’re still looking for a literary historian?”

She beamed at him, reaching out an arm to tuck under his and pull him in close. Following him through the doors with Amoreena’s hand still in hers. “I’ll arrange an interview this week.”

The rotunda was one of the coolest parts of the Smithsonian Museum of National History. A beautiful African Bush Elephant greets them in the centre, tusks extending out towards them as Amoreena gasps.

“Wow,” her small voice whispers.

“Cool, huh?” Spencer leans to look at her expression, she’s absolutely gobsmacked.

It makes him smile, that beautiful glimmer of amazement spreading across her face as her small brain tries to understand what exists in the world outside of her mind's grasp. It was priceless, he loved every moment.

“So, I was thinking you could look around and whenever you’re ready, we have access to the Student Centre. You’re going to get to look at some special bones and fossils, and even dig some up!” He was so excited to share the plans with her.

She let go of her mom's hand to flap her arms wildly, excitement coursing through her veins as she shook, grinding her teeth together as she smiled, it was how he remembered feeling as a child when something good happened. Pure joy, excitement level 1000.

“Sound good?”

“Spencer,” Y/N placed her hand on his shoulder, taking over for the speechless child, “that sounds perfect, thank you.”

“The Dino’s are this way,” he leads them down the corridor, through a set of doors towards a large swirling sign,

“Journey through deep time!” Y/N read the sign, smiling at Amoreena as she ran towards it, touching the swirl as she read all the words to herself.

“It’s so sad they died,” Amoreena says so matter of factly that it makes him bite back a smile.

“Yeah,” he agrees with a small laugh. Y/N's shaking her head with a sigh of pure love. “What kind of dinosaur is your favourite?”

“The Jurassic era,” she responds, standing closer to the sign and reading all the words. “Did you know the earth used to be mostly desert? There was a massive heatwave, that’s why they believe dinosaurs were most likely scaled but thanks to the melting ice caps as we recover from the ice age and move back towards being tropical, we’re discovering dinosaurs frozen in ice with feathers and fur!”

It takes his breath away, seeing someone so much like him with a mother who loves every single word that leaves her mouth. Pride on her face as she looks at her little genius and back towards Spencer, waiting for his response.

“So you’ve been a paleontologist this whole time and you never told me?”

She laughs and swats the air, “no, I just read a lot of books.”

“She can read really fast, like Matilda,” Y/N bragged.

“I do too,” Spencer knelled down in front of her. “It’s a very wonderful thing to have a brain as big and magical as ours, never let anyone tell you otherwise okay?”

“Never, I’m the smartest in the kingdom,” Amoreena smiled.

“Yes, she is,” Y/N smiled again, placing her hand on Spencer's back as they continued to walk around the exhibits.

He felt like he had a family, like one of those couples who would go to Ikea and pretend they lived in the sets. This was the most perfect make-believe day of his life, leading a child just like him through a world of things she loved.

Y/N was quiet most of the day, watching them interact with a soft smile and sad eyes. Spencer noticed it but let it slide, he’d ask her about it later when she could be honest with him. He didn’t want to profile her, it wasn’t fair to judge her before he knew her, nor taint the fantastical thoughts he already had about her.

They had lunch in the butterfly exhibit, sitting at the seat by the fountain, Amoreena asking nicely if Spencer could sit in the middle so they could both talk to him. It was adorable, Amoreena was so intrigued by his mind she couldn’t stop asking him questions.

Y/N made him a sandwich and brought him a water bottle, as well as bringing some apple slices and grapes, goldfish and juice boxes for when Amoreena got hungry on the way home. Like a true mom, her purse was full of napkins and hair ties, random books and toys. Rocks, pine cones, everything a young mind would find exciting.

She was like Marry Poppins, pulling everything and then some out of her purse as she searched for something specific. “I brought you something, I’ve had it sitting around the house just moving it to different spots over the years, and thought you’d like it.”

It made him giddy to know she was thinking about him, he couldn’t sit still as he anticipated what it was. She pulled a small metal pin out of her bag then, taking the backing off and clipping it to his pocket.

“Best tour guide ever,” she whispered, reading the words to him with a smile.

“We haven’t even gotten to the best part yet,” he shrugged, pushing down the butterflies in his stomach as they were swarmed by the beautiful creatures.

“It’s like animal crossing in here,” Amoreena said to herself as she looked around, kicking her feet as she sat on the bench, tilting her head back and forth absentmindedly as she took it all in.

He wasn’t sure when he stopped doing that; when he started to mask his true self so much that he no longer felt free in public, taking a moment to copy her movements and just enjoy the moment. Making her smile as she noticed him copy her with adoration, not to tease her in any way whatsoever.

“Can we talk when she’s looking at the fossils?” He asks Y/N softly, knowing that she’ll be the most open when Amoreena’s tiny ears wouldn’t be there to remember everything she says.

“Yeah,” she nods with a small smile. “How about I throw out our garbage and we head to that surprise?”

Amoreena jumped off the bench, tugging Spencer towards the door as Y/N cleaned up, following them eventually.

—

They had the classroom all to themselves and Amoreena was still for the first time all day. Standing in the middle of the room as the lights adjusted, changing the glow from blue to amber as they warmed.

The walls were filled with posters and informative signs, there were glass cases showcasing all the finest fossils and bones known to man. And a sand table in the middle of the room, smocks and brushes for archaeology all set up and waiting for her.

“Once you get all suited up, and we’ll get you a little mask so you don’t breathe in any of the dirt and dust, you can dig up whatever is hidden in there!” Spencer announced.

Y/N helped her into a smock, handing her the brushes and asking her to be extra careful with the plastic chisel and hammer. She was beaming from ear to ear the most toothy smile he’s ever seen.

Y/N stopped to take a photo of her then, holding her instruments in front of the sand table, “get in, we’ll tell everyone that Milo took us on a special tour today.”

Spencer kneeled close to Amoreena, she leaned in and wrapped an arm around him to get him in closer, always being the one to choose how much contact she made with Spencer. He would never want to overstep with someone else’s child.

“Beautiful!” Y/N cheered, locking her phone and slipping it back into her jeans as Amoreena turned to the table of sand, dirt and clay.

She got right to work, not skipping a beat as she leaned in and started to dig. Spencer stepped back with Y/N, knowing Amoreena was going to be in her own little world for as long as they left her alone.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m great, I’m just a little surprised,” her voice is soft, low enough that it stays with him. “You’re really good with her for a fed.”

He laughed, nodding his head as he registered her joke. “Ex fed, and I have a 12-year-old godson, Henry.”

“Ahh, so no kids of your own?” Her voice was small, she took a look at his hand to avoid eye contact and he understood.

“None, no wife, no love children hiding out there in the world that I know of, it’s just me, I promise,” he tried his best to ease her anxiety about introducing a new man into her child’s life.

She nods slightly, “you seem too good to be true sometimes.”

He huffed out a small laugh, pressing his lips together as he looked at her, “pretty sure I’ve been dreaming since I saw you.”

She shoved him as she laughed, “would you like to come back to our place for dinner? I know it’s a little weird, believe me, I know, but we live on my parent's land and my mom’s making enough shepherds pie to feed an army.”

“Yeah I’d love to, I’ll get a cab home after,” he felt a swirling in his stomach, nervous and excited all at once.

“Okay,” she whispered, “or we can get to know each other, and then you could sleep on the couch and I’ll bring you back into DC in the morning? I have to drive in any way.”

He licked his lips and nodded his head, wondering what other kind of invitation this could be. If it was pure hospitality, wanting him to be safe for the night instead of inside some stranger's car, or was she wanting alone time with him.

The thoughts turned around in his head over and over making him dizzy, “okay, yeah I’d love to,” he managed to slip the words out without falling over them.

She smiled, tight-lipped and small. Looking up at him with a new look he hasn’t seen on her yet, one he’s only seen in a few faces in his time, and yet he believed her’s the most.

She was smitten with him as much as he was with her.

He sighed, smiling back at her just as soft. She reached her hand out to hold his, walking towards the table with him in tow. Leaning over Amoreena’s shoulder as she unearthed her new most prized possessions.

—

Amoreena was the funniest kid to drive with, He sat in the passenger seat of Y/N’s car with her in a car seat directly behind him. She was singing, cheering, pointing out the window to show him all her favourite things on the way to her house.

Telling him stories about the make-believe people she created to live in the houses, the trolls under bridges and the names of every cow in the field along the long driveway of her grandparent's farm.

“Bob and Linda are an interesting pair,” she warned him as they pulled in closer and closer. Dirt flying up behind the wheels as she drove fast, knowing every bump and turn from memory.

“They will be asking you every question in the book and if you’re going to be looking at the animals they will insist on putting you in flannel and a cowboy hat, it’s a tradition for visitors,” she explained it in a way where he knew she wanted him to think she hated it, but actually she looked excited to do it to him.

“I can’t wait,” he smiled.

“Amoreena has already told them all about you at dinner last night, so they are expecting her to drag you here tonight,” she pushed the blame onto Amoreena, downplaying her affection for him in a self-conscious way he could feel.

He didn’t want to profile her, but it wouldn’t turn off. He was desperate to know her more, to know if she felt the weird tugging in her heart that made him think soulmates might be real. A pain so intense that if he had to explain it to a doctor, it was like his heart was a negative charge and he was being drawn to her much more positive one.

“We have 16 cats, 46 cows, 13 chickens, 4 ducks, 50 sheep and 1 horse, her name is buttercup,” Amoreena informed him, stealing the attention once again.

“Wow, who’s your favourite?” Spencer turned to her, watching her kick her feet as she looked out the windows.

“Probably Alfonzo our fluffy show cow, or Rufus, our dog,” she said softly. “Sometimes nanny lets him sleep at our house.”

“That’s so cool, I’ve never had a pet.”

“What?!” Amoreena stopped, pressing her lips together as her eyes shot wide open, thinking it was the most absurd thing anyone has ever said.

“My mom was sick when I was growing up so I spent my time taking care of her, I didn’t have time for a dog,” he said softly, saying it in a way that wouldn’t scare her.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N said softly, reaching her hand out to pat his knee as she kept her eyes on the road.

Then she was pulling in past a big house, around the bend behind it, past the garden and the trail to the barn towards another house. It was big and white, probably big enough to have 4 bedrooms. Many levels, with multiple build-ons from years ago ageing to match eventually.

It was covered in vines, ivy and flowers. It was just like miss honeys. He felt something unspeakable, opening his mouth softly to breathe as his eyes trailed up the siding to the shingles.

He couldn’t believe it.

“Home sweet home,” her wonderful voice brought him back to reality. Saying the word that matched the feeling in his chest.

“Wow,” he whispered. His mouth moved to say words, not a single one slipped through the cracks, his lips touching with fake syllables as he stared at it.

“It was my grandma’s, it’s the house she raised my dad in,” Y/N explained as she put the car in park.

“Mommy had me as a gift for GG,” Amoreena added from the back.

“Her great-grandma,” Y/N nodded with a soft smile, biting the inside of her lip as she fought her feelings. That was a touchy subject that he was going to pry into, later on, wanting to know every single thing about the most exceptional women in the world.

There was a cat sitting on their front step, introduced to him as toothpick because he was the smallest in the last litter. And then the name of every single cat on the way back up to the main house.

Simon and Gar-funk-field twin orange brothers, Alaska the all-white one, strawberry shortcake had a red heart on her butt, oven-mitt for comedic effect obviously as if they others weren’t funny enough, as well as shovel and Catrina… all 16 of them had a name and Spencer was not going to forget a single one.

“Welcome! You must be Doctor Reid,” her father was a very large man, it shocked Spencer slightly.

He was like Santa Clause, it was more than a bit of a shock. Thick grey beard, bald head, red flannel and dirty work jeans, probably in his late 60’s. He was what you imagined Santa to look like outside of Christmas, on holiday with his wife.

He looked like a man who lived a long and happy life, he had a wife who cooked good meals for him, he probably didn’t mind sitting back with a beer most nights. There was definitely going to be sports memorabilia inside and a million photos of Y/N and Amoreena, and the purest energy known to man. Family love.

He hated how fast he profiled it all in his mind, trying to drop that aspect of his inner monologue moving forward.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Sir,” he said softly, nodding lightly as he placed his hands in his pockets. Letting it be known he didn’t touch people, and weirdly being respected.

“Please, it’s Bob or Poppy Clause,” he laughed, shifting his attention to Amoreena as she climbed the stairs towards the porch.

“How is my lovey?” Bob asked her softly, “may I have a welcome home hug?”

“Ah,” he smiled and nodded to himself. He was used to it, asking permission for her sensory issues. Spencer was impressed, and a bit emotional at the fact someone his age was respecting a way of life many didn’t care to understand.

Amoreena gave him a hug, throwing herself into his arms, “no beard tickles,” she instructed, holding onto his shoulders as he kept his face away from her.

Y/N placed her hand on Spencers back, “I told you they were a lot, my mom is worse.”

“I feel very comfortable here, don’t worry,” he assured her.

“I should worry,” she laughed, “you’re one of them, oh god.”

“One of who?”

She tilted her head at him, shaking her head, “eccentric, full of life, bursting with weirdness that would probably be a strange purple goo if I could see it.”

He pressed his lips together as he thought about it, nodding softly in agreement. “There is nothing wrong with that, it just means I’m having fun and living my best life from now on.”

“Welcome to the family,” Bob added, a simple saying that invoked a feeling of pride he long yearned for.

—

Dinner was lovely, he’s never had shepherd’s pie before. Learning it was ground beef, beans and potato casserole, and somehow there was also corn in there… he wasn’t sure why it was so delicious but he enjoyed it a lot.

It might have simply been the ambiance that made it so good.

Her mother was the sweetest woman, she made everything from scratch. Including bread that he was obsessed with and a pie for dessert, she was overjoyed to have an expected yet unexpected guest.

Knowing there was a possibility he’d come, but not setting a place for him at the table unless he showed. She wrapped him up in a big hug when he arrived as well as after dinner when he helped her move the plates to the sink.

Her dad offered him a beer after dinner, taking him to the front porch to talk while the ladies cleaned up for the night. Amoreena had a strict bedtime routine to stick to, and it wasn’t his place to witness nor get in the way.

“So,” her dad started the interrogation easily. “I’m sure you wouldn’t be here if Y/N didn’t trust you. And she doesn’t trust many people.”

“I can promise you I’ll never hurt either of them,” he said with the utmost confidence. “It’s been two days and they’ve brought me more joy than I can explain, and I’m never going to take that for granted.”

“Good answer,” he smiled. “Now, farmhouse rules are as follows; you can roam where ever you please, just ask permission before using any equipment, we’re more of a petting zoo than a farm now so the animals are overly friendly, try and keep them inside the gates.”

He was a bit flustered, computing the fact that he just trusted him like that. Maybe he was Santa Clause, making a list and checking it twice, and Spencer happened to cross off every box to land him on the nice one.

“Sounds good,” he smiled. “Thank you.”

“Believe me, sonny, I know what it’s like to want to impress the old man, but it’s all about Amoreena,” Bob warned him. “If she loves you then so will Y/N, and she falls fast.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle, “I’m the same way.”

“That’s what Y/N was saying, I think it’ll be good for Amoreena to know someone like her, we try our best to get her out there and making friends, she’s smart enough to move up some grades but she’s a kid, y’know?” Her father basically describing his own childhood back to him.

“I graduated high school at 13,” he presses his lips together, hoping it doesn’t come off as a brag. Taking a sip of his beer to take the edge off how awkward he felt.

“Do you regret it?”

“No,” he smiled at Bob, who was smiling right back, “it led me here.”

Bob hummed in response, taking a sip as well as he sat back in his rocking chair, watching over the cows in the field as the sun began to set. It was picture perfect, unbelievable.

Wet feet on the hardwood floor caught his attention then, Amoreena was in her PJ’s as she ran towards the door. Putting on her rubber boots and swinging open the screen door.

Her hair was wet, falling into her eyes as she pushed it out of the way, “are you joining the parade and dance party?”

He acted like he knew what that meant, “sure?”

“Yes!” She cheered, “hurry up mom!!”

Y/N walked down the steps slowly, shaking her head as she laughed. “You are so impatient, the animals aren’t going anywhere.”

“No, but Spencer will!”

It made his heartache, the thought of leaving.

“Come on,” she slipped back into her shoes and joined them on the porch. “Off we go, see you later dad.”

“Be good, make wise choices,” he teased her.

“Okay old fart, sleep well,” they had a friendship that was admirable.

Spencer followed with glee as Amoreena said goodnight to all the animals, parading down the path towards their house as she made sure to talk to everything on the way there.

“Every night we pick 2 songs to dance to, it gets all the sillies out and rewards us for a day well spent so we can bless our bodies with a good sleep,” Y/N explains as she unlocks the front door.

A cottage full of books in the middle of the woods, that dream he always had, coming true as she ushered him inside. The smell of coffee drifting towards him as he noticed the brown candle on the mantle surrounded by photos of Y/N and her family.

She placed her keys beside it, kicking off her shoes and making sure Amoreena did the same. In the living room, she connected her phone to a set of speakers, letting the little one pick out 2 songs, queueing them up to play as she bounced with anticipation.

“Tonight’s selection is today was a fairytale by miss Swift, and Anne Hathaway’s cover of somebody to love, form the cinematic masterpiece that is Ella Enchanted,” Y/N announced like she was hosting the grammies, pretending her phone was the mic before hitting play.

He knew somebody to love, the Elton John version, it was a song that Penelope and Emily sang at karaoke when they reached 11 shots each, so not very often. But enough to have him remember the words, singing along with them as they danced.

It was a better workout than Derek had ever put him through, they held hands and jumped around, he twirled Amoreena around, pretending to do the tango with Y/N. Waving their arms in the air, it was the most carefree he has been in ages.

The songs fit the situation more perfectly than any of them seem to realize, he’s falling head over heels in love with this family that he met yesterday. Something in him saying that he needs to stay, that this is where he was supposed to be.

Getting Amoreena into bed was more difficult than Y/N imagined, she didn’t want to stop talking to Spencer. Only finally agreeing to sleep when she learned he would still be there for breakfast in the morning.

“Can you read me a book from your brain?” Her sleep-deprived eyes blinked as she asked him softly.

He looked at Y/N from the doorway, she nodded, patting the bed for Spencer to sit on the edge.

“Any book?”

“Any book.”

“Bedtime for baby star,” he says softly. Remembering all the late night’s he’s heard JJ whisper it on the back of the plane, in the corner of a police precinct in the middle of nowhere, in a twin bed beside his as they shared a hotel room.

“Once there was a baby star, she lived up by the sun. And every night at bedtime, that baby star wanted to have some fun,” he recited the words in an exciting tone, just low enough to soothe her into sleep. “She would sine and sine and fall and shoot and twinkle, oh so bright, and she said ‘Mommy! I’ll run away if you make me say goodnight.’”

Y/N looked at her with a fake stern look, leaning in enough to rub their noses together. “And then her mommy kissed her sparkly nose and said, no matter where you go,”

Y/N kissed her on the nose, “no matter where you go,” she repeated.

“No matter where you are, no matter how big you grow and even if you stray far,” to which Y/N repeated. “I’ll love you forever because you’ll always be my baby star.”

“Goodnight my sweet Amoreena,” Y/N kissed her head softly and stood, Spencer, joined her by the door.

“Can I have a hug?” She asked him softly, he looked at Y/N for approval once again.

She placed a hand on his back as she nodded, watching him lean in and hold Amoreena softly, “goodnight, I had a fun day today.”

“See you tomorrow,” she smiled, closing her eyes for the night.

Y/N replaced her lamp light with a night light, closing the door on the way out of her room as she blew a kiss towards her baby, “love you.”

“Love you more,” Amoreena whispered back.

Spencer was nothing but smiles in the hall as she looked at him, “I’m going to pour myself some wine and sit in the garden, are you interested?”

“Ecstatic actually,” he replied, following her towards the kitchen and letting her pour him a glass.

Behind her house, she had an overgrown garden, every area of her life had a reference to a book somewhere, a story someone else told that she’s now claimed as her own. Living in the world she always wanted, inviting Spencer to stay a while.

She let out a deep sigh as she sat down on the outdoor couch beside him, dropping her head on his shoulder softly, it was more contact than he was expecting. She had barely touched him.

“You should know that I like you a lot,” Spencer spoke softly. “I don’t want you to think I’m just some creep trying to get close to you and your kid, I genuinely think you’re wonderful and Amoreena is magnificent.”

“I trust you, I googled you and everything, don’t worry,” she laughs. “I wouldn’t invite you to the museum and let you give my kid a hug without doing research.”

“Not everything is on there you know.”

“I think you are very wonderful as well,” she said softly, “but I know it’s just the fact that you’re so darn cute that’s making me feel like I should drop everything and invite you into our life.”

“I understand,” he replied. Waiting for her to tell him that this was the last time she’d see him, it was inevitable at this point in his life. Nothing good lasted for long.

“So I need you to know all about me and I need to know all about you before you decide you want to stay because I can’t handle bringing you into Amoreena’s life for you to just leave her,” another deflection.

“You might want to hear mine first before you decide if you want me to stay around her,” it sounded scarier than he planned.

“Alright then, you go first,” she insisted with a small smile, eyes darting past him towards the cows in the field. Not ready to be vulnerable with him.

“I worked with the FBI for 15 years, I’ve helped catch some of the worst people in America, and some of them have vendetta’s against me. As far fetched and insane as that sounds,” he pre-warned her, watching her face drop as she understood the weight of his words.

“I have been framed and sent to prison for three months, I was kidnaped, tortured, drugged, and assaulted, not to mention shot a few times. I have more trauma than you can imagine. So that’s something you have to consider in a future with me,” he whispered so she wouldn’t hear how ashamed he was of himself.

“And the fact know that I can’t always keep myself or you safe, no matter how far disconnected I am from the FBI. It doesn’t matter if I change my name and hide here for the rest of my life off the grid. There are some fucked up minds out there that don’t want to let me experience true happiness. But in all honesty,” he finally stops his long-winded rant. He bites his bottom lip as if he is holding back someone worse than all the things he just said.

“I’m willing to die tomorrow if it means my last day on earth was this fucking perfect.” Tears welled in his eyes, “I am so tired.”

“It’s okay to cry, I would be too,” she says softly, a frog in her throat as she nodded. Tears welling in her eyes as her face scrunched.

He blinked and a tear escaped, slipping down his cheek and being swiped off by her thumb in an instant. She kept her hand on his cheek softly, he leaned into it.

“I’ve been running for so long,” he whispers because then the words don’t really exist. They’re secrets only for her to hear and then they’re gone. “I was basically groomed for the FBI, I was their personal computer and they didn’t give a single shit about the wear and tear on me.”

He started to sob. She cradled his head against her chest in one swift motion, holding him close and rubbing his back. Shushing him softly as he cried into her shoulder.

“You know that Katy Perry song?” she changed the subject as he calmed down, understanding his pain and accepting his warnings, but continuing down the path anyway.

“Summer after high school when we first met,” she sang like an angel. “It was like that, I thought I met the love of my life after I graduated, we got engaged a year later, then he died in a car crash and I was single for a very long time.”

“Then my grandma got sick and she made a bucket list. Number one was to become a great grandma,” her words became whispers as she tried to stop the tears, following Spencer’s tactic even though it failed so miserably.

“I said fuck it. I’m going to have a baby and make my own family, one person I can truly care for and never lose. She’s my world, she was the light of my grandma’s life until it burnt out, she has changed my world in ways I can’t even explain.”

It fell silent as they absorbed each other’s explanations of their issues. The root of their problems, the core of their soul were the most hurt was kept locked away, opening the doors and swapping scrapbook snapshots of terrible memories.

“I think,” she says, finally, like music to his ears. “I think that I’m okay, I’m positive actually that I want you in my life like this. All of you is fine with me, you’re not that scary, and I’m tired of waiting for the right moments because it means losing the people over time missed. I want to live my life fully, I’m at peace with the unknown and with you.”

Peace.

“Not to quote Taylor Swift at you or anything, but she does have a point in that song,” she laughed lightly and he felt her chest jump. Life bursting through her as she made light of an incredibly touchy subject.

“I don’t know the song,” he whispers.

She gasps, “oh that’s the line, I finally found it. Our first fight can be whether or not you like Taylor Swift, don’t even think about how upset Amoreena will be if you’re not, I’ll kick you out.”

He can't stop laughing then, digging his face into her neck as he holds her closer to his chest. Breathing her in as she finishes his laugh in a giggle, rubbing her hands down his back as she presses her cheek to his head.

“I haven’t had the time to listen to her this year I know she’s been busy releasing music,” he admits, “but I’m sure I’ll love it.”

She shifts awkwardly on the couch to take her phone out of her pocket, opening her music and playing the song she was speaking of.

He simply rests his head on her chest, both of them laying back onto the cushions together, finding a comforting spot for their arms as they listened to the words, silently.

He absorbed it all, every word she said bringing forth a feeling he’s never felt before. True understanding, like someone, gets him. Gasping audibly when she says ‘robbers to the east clowns to the west, give you my sunshine, give you my best.’

He wasn’t alone.

[akaashigiri]

Sleepy Jaegers

summary: eren and y/n are at a gathering at armin’s place, and their 2 year old is exhausted. eren is equally as exhausted.

pairing: dad!eren jaeger x fem!reader

word count: 1.69k

warnings: none, fluffff

a/n: sigh my baby fever possessed me to write this 💔 might make armin a father as well if people end up liking this one (i will anyway) 😋

These gatherings were almost like a ritual to the group.

There wasn’t ever a specific place they met, they would always gather in different places, wether it’d be the beach, a park, or at one of their homes. It didn’t matter where it took place, just as long as everyone was there. Everyone was obligated to come.

So of course that includes the littlest Jaeger.

It was mid September, and although the weather wasn’t bad at all, some didn’t really feel like going out to public places like the local park, so the group decided on Armin’s new place, since Sasha and Annie still have yet to see it (their homes are farther from the rest)

They were all gathered in the spacious living room; Jean and Sasha on the long couch, while Mikasa and Armin sat on the smaller one. Historia and Ymir shared the beige-colored chair in the corner of the room, while Annie sat on one of the kitchen stools as she watched Y/N and Connie do the dishes (Armin insisted, but the two almost threatened him if he were to touch a dish).

As soon as Eren walked in, he all but restricted anyone from sitting on the big beige reclining sofa, claiming that he deserved it for helping Armin pick it out. Eren was grateful for going to Ikea that day with Armin to pick out the sofa he was now slouched on, recliner out and all. It was now his favorite spot in the whole house (besides the kitchen, since he loved playing around with the smart refrigerator).

As Y/N passed another dish for Connie to rinse and dry, she suddenly felt a tug on her pants, looking down to meet the tired eyes of her daughter.

She was quick to rinse and dry her hands to pick her up, giving all of her attention to the little girl. “Aw, what’s wrong Mimi? Everything alright?” She asked, already noticing the fatigue on her face.

She only snuggled into her mother’s neck, giving her the simple response of, “Tired.” Her vocabulary was fairly short, due to the fact that she was only 2 and learned her words from the ones around her (Eren got in big trouble the day Y/N heard the word ‘shit’ come out of her daughter’s mouth).

Y/N wasn’t surprised she got tired easily today, since Jean gave her more candy then Y/N would usually allow. And with the way her, Ymir, and Mikasa were running around in the yard earlier today, Y/N already saw this coming.

“You’re tired?” she asked again, earning a nod from the crook of her neck. “Okay, mommy’s almost done. Go sit next to daddy until I finish, okay?” She tells her, moving her head back to face her daughter again. Myra nodded, allowing her mother to put her down.

Walking tiredly, Myra slowly moved through the kitchen and made her way to the living room, spotting her father laidback in the corner of the room, limbs sprawled out on the sofa.

Eren wasn’t sure if it was the father instincts, but he was the first to notice her presence in the room, stopping the ghost story Jean swears is real to bring his full attention to his daughter.

“Mimi’s come to save us, everyone!” Eren exclaims, throwing jazz hands up as everyone joined and cheered her on for simply walking in. Jean didn’t like what Eren was implying, but clapped nonetheless.

“You’re not funny. Aren’t dads supposed to tell good jokes?” He questioned, attempting to steal a fry from Sasha’s plate, but failing miserably as she only swats his hand away.

“No Jean, I think it’s the other way around, they’re supposed to be corny.” Armin butts in, watching with a smile as Myra finally starts walking towards her father.

Eren could already see the fatigue on her face, holding his arms out for her once she got a little closer. “What’s up Mimi, you tired?” Eren questioned, laughing as she instead of answering, simply lifted her arms up for him to take her.

She responds with a nod, her hair falling over her face as she was lifted onto his lap. As soon as she was situated, she wasted no time in making herself comfortable, wiggling out of her dad’s grasp and laying her stomach down on his, her head right above where his heart was.

“Nevermind.” he sighs, making the whole room burst out into laughter. This only made Myra whine, the loudness distrupting her attempt at sleeping. “Sorry Myra!” Sasha whispered, finally giving a fry to Jean afterwards.

“I wonder what got her so tired.” Annie questions, making Jean sink into the couch out of guilt as Eren sends him an irritated glance.

“Jean went and gave her a sugar rush before we got here. It was absolute hell.” Eren’s eyes furrow in frustration as he remembers earlier today and how hard it was for him to catch a nap without his energetic 2 year old jumping all over him. All while Jean was happily eating lunch with his wife.

“Okay, but I didn’t know she wasn’t supposed to have that much candy! Kids eat candy like crazy, right?” He attempts to defend himself, looking around the room for support, only to be met with silence.

“Yeah, thing is she’s not a kid! She’s a toddler! Dumbass.” he mumbles the last part, hoping that Y/N somehow wouldn’t hear. But she always found a way how.

“Can someone please slap Eren for me?” She yells from the kitchen. “Stop cursing in front of Myra!”

Eren has no time to defend himself as volunteers step up to do what their friend asked, but Mikasa was the quickest, and Eren was even quicker. He swiftly grabs Myra’s frog blanket from the bag sat beside him and hids his face in it, saving it from the harsh blow of Mikasa’s hand.

“You’re lucky I didn’t miss completely, I just don’t wanna wake Myra.” she confesses, walking back to her seat.

“God, I cant believe we almost named her after you.” Eren groaned, blanket still clutched in hand.

“Mimi’s close enough for me.” She smiles, noticing the way Myra starts to squirm a bit. “Throw the blanket over her, I think she’s cold.” She suggests, bringing Eren’s attention back to the little girl on his chest.

Eren is quick to unravel the rather big blanket from his grasp and take it in both hands to bring it in the air, watching it fall perfectly onto her small figure. The blanket basically covered his whole torso, the end tickling his neck a bit.

“Thanks again for the blanket, Historia. She loves it so much, a little too much.” he says, feeling his daughter move under the blanket so that her little arms were wrapped around his torso as far as she could go. “She won’t use the one I got her anymore.” he says with a slight frown.

The group laughs again, but quietly this time, not wanting the little girl to possibly wake up in a fit.

“I wouldn’t blame her, to be honest.” Jean shrugs, giving Eren a knowing glance, as well as a sly smirk. He knows how mad Y/N would get if he were to disobey her, especially a few minutes after she scolded him. Since Y/N was only a few feet away, Eren aggresively sticks his middle finger up to the man. It’s not like Myra could see through the blanket anyway.

“Are you gonna finish your ghost story, Jean?” Annie asked, although she didn’t believe a word. She just wants to see him make a fool out of himself.

Jeans eyes light up, snapping his fingers together as he sits upstraight again, ready to go into full detail once again. “Right! Okay, okay, so right when I went to shave my beard...”

Eren let’s Jean’s apparent ghost encounter story fade in the background, focusing on the shallow breaths coming from his daughter. He felt himself getting a little drowsy himself, as if her sleepiness was seeping into him.

He doesn’t waste time lifting the blanket a bit to wrap a protective arm around her small figure under it, adjusting his posture on the sofa and crossing his ankles over one another. His let his neck sink into the back of the couch, letting his head go as well so he facing the ceiling. With the warmth of the blanket and the little girl under it, he couldn’t help but close his drowsy eyes as well, finally giving in.

A few minutes pass and Jean is done telling his story, but of course, no one believes him. All except Historia. “Thank you, Historia! See I’m telling the truth. Morons.” Jean rolls his eyes at the way Armin and Sasha curl up as they laughed, Mikasa and Annie trying their best to hold in theirs.

Jean soon notices the person who would’ve regurlarly had the most to say was being awfully quiet. Getting ready to scold him for not listening, Jean is met with a site he has to admit, is the cutest thing he’s seen all year.

Eren was deep in slumber, soft snores coming from him and the little girl that rested as peacefully as he did on top of him. The print of his arm around her could be seen through the green blanket, as well as both of their steady breaths. They looked so comfortable, it would be a pain for them to get up soon, which they would have to eventually.

“Awww, they’re adorable!!” Historia exclaims from the other side of the room, which seemed to catch Y/N’s attention all the way from the kitchen.

“What’s happening? Is something cute happening? Someone take pictures!” She exclaimed, wanting to abandon the plates and take them herself, but thinks that would be rather rude to leave poor connie alone.

“On it!” Sasha and Jean say in unison. Both are quick to pull out their phones, Jean getting the more unappealing angles, while Sasha actually put some effort into it and snapped a few photos.

These were being sent to every single person on her contact list.

this was written at like 2 am sorry if there are typos i swear i reread 💔

also i’m currently working on a mob fic idk if ppl still like those but i most definitely do so watch out for that one :p

hope y’all liked this one lol

-aysha <3

[giorno-plays-piano]

Savior

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, kidnapping, mentions of COVID.

Words: 2633.

Summary: Nothing goes right in the middle of pandemic while you try to come back home. Luckily, Bucky is there to give you a hand.

P.S. Basically, I typed all the story on my phone, so please forgive me for any mistakes. Hope you'll enjoy!

_________________________

You knew something would go wrong. You had that nagging feeling the whole day right after you woke up and prepared your bags before arriving at the airport. Today you had a flight back to US right in the middle of pandemic. You needed to get back to your sick father as he had no one but you to take care of him, and the urgency made you disregard all the risks related to your travel. You needed to get home at whatever cost.

But nothing was as easy as before, and now you were almost crying, staring at one of Sokovia Airlines officials who blankly stated you simply didn't have enough documents prepared by the Embassy for your travel. Basically, they were implying that instead of taking a transit and flying back home you might stay in Sokovia - of course, you had only a transit visa that didn't give you any right for a long stay. Both company's representative and you knew you only planned to return home, but he simply couldn't let you pass without full set of documents.

"God, honey, how long are you going to stay there?" You heard someone's grumpy voice behind you and turned back to see a huge man with long dark hair advancing towards you.

Who was he? You had never seen him before arriving at the airport. Then you spotted him in the line - his muscular built draw your attention immediately, and your cheeks were flushed when you saw him looking back at you. The crinkles in the corners of his eyes showed you he was smiling at you. But what was he doing now? Did he take you for someone else?

"I'm sorry, who are you?" The representative asked, watching the man suspiciously.

"I'm her fiancee." The stranger barked and took a look at you, his light blue eyes strangely comforting. You weren't sure, but did he just... winked at you for a second?

The man behind the counter didn't look pleased.

"Then why weren't you standing together?"

"Because we had a big fight this morning and were mad at each other when we arrived here." The stranger furrowed. "With all due respect, it's none of your business. Would you tell me what is the issue with her papers, please?"

You gulped, your arms shaking slightly. Although the stranger probably wanted to help you, you weren't sure it would work out - the representative only needed to ask if you knew this man's name to figure everything out. Was he actually travelling to New York as well? Would the officials ban you from entering US at all for your lie? God, anyway, it was too late to confess.

"I'm sorry, dear." You whispered, looking at you shoes and hoping no one would suspect anything.

The stranger let out a sigh tiredly and scratched his head. Instead of answering you, he gave his passport to the official. 

"Your fiancee doesn't have the form WS-21, Mr. Barnes. We cannot permit her crossing the boarder of Sokovia without it, unfortunately. Do you have your own form?"

"I'm sure I do." He passed the man behind the counter a pack of his documents and carefully took the papers you held in your arms. Flipping through them, he gripped the phone in his other arm.

"Yes, your forms are alright, but..."

"Just a minute, please."

You watched him dialing some number and shivered at the thought of being trapped in the airport. The only thing you wanted was to come back home, to your father. You prayed to stay healthy and was supposed to take a test right after your arrival. Of course, you knew perfectly you were most likely to stay two weeks at home, but it was way better than staying thousands miles away, nonetheless. 

"Hi Steve." The man's voice almost made you jump. "Yes, I'm good, but my sweetheart has an issue with one of the forms... Yeah... Well, you know her, always forgetting one thing or another... The Embassy, of course. Hey, could you?.."

You saw him walking away to the next few counters, keeping his distance from other travellers with their huge bags. His large bulky figure looked scary, his face concealed with a black mask, and you suddenly wondered who this man was. A complete stranger, he was eager to help you. Why? Was he truly a Good Samaritan? If not, what was his motive? Nervously tapping your hip, you felt your eyes watering - your anxiety was getting worse.

The official huffed and puffed, visibly irritated. You saw people passing around you with the boarding passes in their hands, looking for the right direction, and asked yourself why you were not as lucky as all of them. Could that mysterious Mr. Barnes help you? Watching him pacing across the airport hall, you chewed your lip to bits. 

'I'm so, so sorry." You whispered to the man behind the counter. "Please, just a few minutes more." 

He didn't answer, and you were left to your own dreary thoughts.

However, your frightening savior showed up soon with a smile hidden beneath his mask. Judging by the way he looked, things might be not as bad as you expected them to be.

"Don't worry, honey." He said confidently and gave all your documents to the representative. "Consul will be here in 10 minutes."

You gaped at him, trembling at his words. What? Consul? Consul was coming to save you? This man was able to convince him to drive all the way to the airport just to help you with this goddamn form? You couldn't believe it. It sounded insane.

You realized you were crying only when the man in front of you shushed you gently and rubbed you shoulder with his gloved hand. Thinking it looked odd, you decided you had to say something convincing and mumbled, "I'm sorry for all the things I said in the morning. I was... I was..."

"It's ok, honey." He said softly, his icy blue eyes warming up at the sight of your flushed face. "It doesn't matter now. Everything gonna be alright, let's just relax and wait a little bit." 

He was right, of course. Once Consul had showed up and came to speak to the officials, it turned out you didn't even need the form WS-21 because you had the other one to replace it. Bucky - that was your handsome stranger's name - chuckled quietly once he saw the red face of Consul walking to you to offer his sincere apologies. The company's representatives looked like someone just splashed a bucket of cold water over their heads. It didn't matter to you, though, as you got the only thing you wanted from the start - your right to come back to US. 

You were the last one to go through customs - your flight was delayed for 15 minutes just to give you time to board after this hussle. Bucky was with you all the time, always keeping the distance. He even gave you one more mask since yours was drenched with tears. It's unsafe to wear a wet one, he said.

It was still hard to believe all this happened to you. Now you were sitting close to Bucky and looking out the window happily. God, you thought you would have a heart attack before this kind man showed up to save you as if he were a prince charming. You were ashamed of yourself for thinking he was frightening. Well, he looked beefy, but Bucky was a former Navy SEAL, and it wasn't surprising he wanted to keep himself in shape. Listening to him trying to make a small talk, you smiled. He was a good man, and you were lucky to meet him.

"Thank you... for taking care of me." You said in a tiny voice. "If you weren't there, I'd never leave this place."

His eyes sparkled with joy at your words, and he laughed a little through his mask. 

"I'm glad I was able to help." Smiling at you, he watched the flight attendants coming closer to your row and offering drinks to the people in front of your seats . "I understand how important it is for you to come back."

___________________

The rest of your journey was as stressful as its beginning, but Bucky was always there for you. Still pretending to be your fiancee, he dealt with your new issues so fast as if he had a magic wand, and you couldn't express your gratitude for everything he had done for you. Apparently, meeting someone as good-natured as him was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

In the end, exhausted from your long journey - you spend more than 20 hours travelling - you fell asleep on the way back to New York. Bucky was next to you again, and you finally felt safe. All was good if he was close.

Thinking of the ways to repay him for the kindness he showed you, you closed your eyes and dozed off in a matter of minutes. Everything was going to be okay.

Or so you thought before you woke up in a place you didn't recognize, all you belongings gone. They even changed you clothes! Feeling hazy and tired, you shifted uncomfortably on the bed and looked around a plain room with only a few pieces of furniture. What had happened? Did you fell sick during the flight? But it didn't look like hospital. Why no one had woken you up if anything serious happened? Why didn't you wake up yourself? Surely, it was loud enough when you landed. You weren't even a heavy sleeper!

Still a little groggy, you got your feet on the floor and walked to the door next to the white Ikea drawer. You hoped your were back to US, at least. If you were in Sokovia... God, you didn't even want to think about it.

"Excuse me, is anybody here?" You asked once you entered the corridor, looking for people.

Although you saw no one at all, you heard someone's footsteps and froze, suddenly feeling afraid to move. Why were you so sure it was safe to raise your voice? You didn't know where you were, why you were kept here, and who was the one who brought you to this place. Did you break any laws? Were you confined? 

Before you freaked out, you saw Bucky emerging from one of the doors and advancing quickly towards you with a wide smile. He had no mask covering his face, and you saw how handsome he was with his soft chapped lips and a three-day beard. Was he really here with you? You saw his grin and felt relieved. Thank goodness it was Bucky, you thought. If he was here, you two would definitely figure something out. 

"Morning, honey." He smiled and stretched his huge hand towards you. "How are you feeling?"

You laughed at his words: he was still playing your little game. 

"Hi Bucky. A bit tired, but otherwise I'm pretty good. Um, where are we now, actually?"

He looked at you dumbfounded and helped you walking into the closest room - a nice spacious master bedroom with lots of photos on the walls, a huge king-sized bed, a closet and a table. The room looked a bit unfinished, but better than the one where you woke up. 

"We're home, honey." Bucky answered softly when you landed on the comfy bed.

"Wait, your home?"

"What do you mean? Our home, of course."

When you looked at him with wide eyes, he simply gestured to the frames on the wall, and you saw yourself kissing him on the cheek. The other photo was a selfie where you were depicted sleeping on Bucky's shoulder. One more had you two dancing. You couldn't believe your eyes and jumped from the bed to have a better look at the photos, but it was really you there along with him. How could it happen? What did you miss? You could swear you had never seen Bucky before. Was it Photoshop or anything like that? It would be more realistic, really.

"Didn't we... m-meet yesterday at the airport?" You whispered, horrified to the core.

"Honey, we met two years ago." Bucky frowned, coming closer and looking at your face intently. "Listen, I'm going to call the doctor again, ok? I see you didn't recover from your fall yesterday, so let's have you checked one more time."

"What fall?"

"Your bike. Yesterday's evening. You lost consciousness for a few minutes, remember? The doctor said you had nothing serious, but I see he was wrong. Give me just a few seconds to call him, ok?"

You stared blankly at him, unsure of what to do. Was it all true? You felt like you were going mad, watching Bucky walking out the room. Did you really lose your memories because you hit your head? Maybe it sounded quite logical, but you just didn't feel it was right. 

When Bucky was talking to the doctor in the corridor, you quickly searched the room but didn't find your cellphone or anything that could confirm your suspicions. On the other hand, you didn't remember anything after you fell asleep during your flight. Anything at all. There was no memories of your father even, although you cared about him more than anyone else in your life. How bad did you have to hit your head? It didn't feel real.

Sighing, you walked to the closet and opened it, finding there just a bit of Bucky's clothes and a few pieces of your own old one. If he didn't know you, how come your clothes was here? Surely, he couldn't bring your unconscious body through the customs, then come to your house, fetch your clothes and bring you here. How was that even possible? 

You looked in the mirror, watching you face growing more wet with tears streaming down your cheeks. You needed to calm down. Whatever had happened, Bucky was not your kidnapper, obviously. He only wanted to help, nothing else. Maybe you really hit your head too hard. 

Scratching your temple, you looked closely at your face to see if something had changed. As far as you could see, you were the same as before, but you had never been keen on changing your appearance, anyway. Maybe it was all true. Maybe you were now living with Bucky in your new house as a couple.

You sighed again and touched your shoulder with your palm. You were safe. Regardless of what had happened, you were back in US, visibly unharmed - well, almost - and living in a pretty decent house. It was silly to think that Bucky was here to torture you. He was probably no less concerned than you: his honey couldn't even remeber those two years they spent together.

But then you suddenly saw a little blue line on the back of your palm. It was hardly visibly since you tried to rub it off your skin once you accidentally marked yourself with a pen while filling some documents in Sokovia, yet some ink was still there. You looked carefully and saw that it was the very same curved little line. It wasn't a coincidence. It couldn't be.

When you heard Bucky's concerned voice somewhere from the corridor, you backed away to the bed, watching the door with horror. It was all a lie. Those pictures on the walls were really photoshopped, and the clothes... if he could make the pictures in such short time, maybe he had someone to take care of your clothes. Maybe he had never been a Navy SEAL in the first place. Was he a hitman? A serial killer? You didn't know for certain, but one thing you knew for sure: Bucky wasn't your savior. He was your captor.

___________

Tags: @hurricanerin @pandulceamor

[lumoshyperion]

My beautiful friend Vanessa @goldenlikealbus​ is having a bad day today, so I thought I’d write her a little gift to try and cheer her up ❤ Based on a conversation we had this morning about Scorpius and Albus bringing home one of those life sized plush toys, like the ones in IKEA. Except this one is shaped like Totoro, because we’re wholly convinced Scorbus would love Ghibli ❤

It was unusual for Albus and his boyfriend’s uni schedules to align. And it was even more unusual for them to both finish early so, after Scorpius had left work at his placement job and Albus had finished rehearsals one cloudy Tuesday afternoon, they met up in the city at their favourite cafe.

They found a table by the large windows that overlooked the street below and sat and talked for hours and hours. It was late Autumn, but it was still warm outside, so they decided to go for a walk through the laneways and arcades - taking the long way to the station before heading home together.

They ducked in and out of stores, laughing at the novelty iron on patches in a small hole-in-the-wall shop and gasping with delight at a cat shaped mug in the window of an artisan store. They paused to take photos of the street art and listen to a busker playing La Valse d’Amelie on the accordion.

They watched crepes being made in an old converted news stand and pointed out dogs to each other as they walked through the city streets. They stopped to collect postcards and flyers from a booth outside one of the theatres, Scorpius proudly showing off the one he had found for Albus’s uni production to the confused but delighted ticket salesperson.

Their last stop before the train station was something of a tradition. There was a bookstore, tucked away in one of the arcades, that Scorpius had fallen in love with years ago. Whenever they were in the city together, they always stopped there to browse the shelves - leaving hours later with bags full of new additions to their growing home library.

Albus wasn’t a ferocious reader like Scorpius, but he loved flicking through the art books and brushing his fingertips across the spines as he wandered through the shelves. And it helped that his favourite cafe - the one with the chairs hanging from the ceiling - was just next door.

While Scorpius went inside “just for a quick browse”, Albus ordered a flat white and aimlessly flicked through the brochure for one of the local theatre companies. But the afternoon was dragging on, the skies were growing darker with the promise of rain, and it had been almost half an hour since Scorpius disappeared into the bookstore.

He peered through the shop window, trying to spot a boy with silver hair and a stack of books in his arms, but only caught the eye of a small child in a pink pinafore who blinked back at him with curiousity. He gave them an awkward wave, before turning around and staring out into the street again.

Suddenly, someone emerged from the store with a giant Totoro plush obscuring their face. Albus watched them stumble on the footpath and almost run into a pole, before he instinctively reached out and pulled them back by the arm.

“Sorry, you just - oh.”

Scorpius peered over the plush toy’s enormous shoulder and grinned at him. “Isn’t he great? I didn’t even know they sold stuff like this, but they had a whole Ghibli shelf set up today!”

“I thought you were looking for books?” He asked, running a hand over the Totoro’s belly. It was even softer than it looked.

“Well, I was, but - then I saw this and I blacked out and now I’m here.”

“That checks out,” Albus replied, with a laugh. “Never thought I’d see you walk out of a bookstore without any books, though.”

“I did find some books, thank you very much,” Scorpius huffed. “I just couldn’t carry both, so I left them.”

“Totoro over books? Scandalous.”

“Hmm,” He hummed, before glancing sadly back at the bookstore.

“Do you want me to hold that so you can go back and get them?” He asked, playfully tugging at the little feet of the Totoro while Scorpius watched on with amusement.

“...Yes, please,” he replied, before carefully handing him over to Albus and heading back into the store.

If it was awkward for him to carry, he hid it well, because Albus struggled with the awkward shape of the thing. His arms just weren’t long enough to wrap around its middle and, after a while of wrestling with it while passersby looked on in amusement, he settled on putting him down on the footpath with an exasperated sigh. 

He’d introduced Scorpius to Ghibli’s films a few years prior, one Summer during the end of their school years. His sister had grown up watching Ponyo, which came out the year she was born and quickly became a staple of her childhood. She loved the colours and she loved copying Ponyo as she ran around the house with a towel wrapped around her shoulders.

Kiki’s Delivery Service and My Neighbour Totoro followed not long after that, and they watched Arrietty together at the cinema. But while James and eventually Lily grew out of the films, Albus kept returning to them whenever he was sad or he missed home. 

When he first started dating Scorpius, it was on a trip to the country side during their Summer holidays. They brought their bicycles and went riding through the hills and stopping at the village market to buy local honey and sprigs of lavender. They were staying in a cabin with no reception and a television that couldn’t even pick up the local stations, but Albus had come prepared with a couple of Ghibli films on a USB - hoping to finally introduce Scorpius to them.

They watched film after film, while devouring pastries and sweets they’d bought at the market. Although it was getting late and they had a tour booked first thing in the morning, Scorpius insisted that they keep going - he was so enamoured with each and every movie they watched. Deep down, Albus had always known that he would love Studio Ghibli. There was a sense of wonder and hope in every scene, that he saw reflected in Scorpius’s eyes and in the way he talked about the things and the people that he loved. 

They were always finding new traditions with each other, over the years and as they went through secondary school and then university together. The table by the window at their favourite cafe, the bookstore in the arcade, the funny cat photos whenever one of them was sad - and now they had Ghibli, too. 

He should have felt embarrassed, running through the city with a giant Totoro carried between them as they tried to beat the imminent rainfall that was so frequent in their little, beloved city.

But as Scorpius confidently placed the giant plush toy on a seat on the train, before sitting down next to it and beaming at Albus, he couldn’t possibly feel anything but warmth and joy. So he leaned across from his seat, and he kissed him. 

As he pulled away, Scorpius blinked at him and smiled. “What was that for?”

“Nothing,” he replied. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

[florenceandthemachine]

The last meet-cute I asked you for was so good and I saw this prompt on someone else’s blog so if it sparks anything: “We’re both hiding in the garden furniture section of IKEA”

do you ever see a prompt and just have a full fucking fic pop into your head? just me? ok. 

here’s some fluffy-trope-y-nonsense! also saw you just had lasik sorry if reading this unedited nonsense makes you go blind again xoxo

When it came to IKEA, Eddie was typically a messy person. Normally, he relied on one of two things if he needed to stay focused; a thorough, detailed list, or Christopher, who had absolutely no patience for Eddie wandering through a literal warehouse of crap, designing for a home he didn’t buy.

Which was rough, considering his current mission—buy some new furniture for Chris’s room for his birthday. Which meant he had no list, no sense of direction, and no Christopher to keep him on track. That would normally spell a recipe for a distracted disaster—but he was so focused, so determined to get this right, that he was confident in his shopping abilities for once. He had to be, he only had two hours until Carla brought Chris home, and two hours wasn’t enough for an IKEA visit on a normal day. So he had to be focused.

He’s so focused, in fact, that as he passes by the Poäng’s and the Fjällbo’s, he almost doesn’t notice the man in the plants.

And no, that isn’t something that he can clarify. 

There is a man. In. The plants. 

What?

He tries to walk away, but the image of a tallish, blondish, beefyish, honestly pretty cuteish if Eddie is being honest, fully grown adult hiding in the plastic bamboo is a bit too much for him to ignore.

“You know, those plants are fake. If you’re trying to check the soil, they’re definitely not gonna need water any time soon.”

He tries not to laugh as Plant Man immediately stumbles, nearly knocking over a Smycka, a Fejka, and a whole case of hanging planters as he turns around. It’s cute. Kinda sad, but cute.

“Oh! Uh, yeah, I kind of figured. I mean, they’re realistic looking, but definitely fake. No, I’m—I’m hiding.”

Hiding? This was an IKEA, a place where you could get lost without even trying. 

“You’re hiding.”

“Yeah. My ex is here.”

Oooooohh. That, Eddie could understand. 

It was easy enough to spot who he thought was the culprit, if the harrowed look on her face and half empty yellow bag was anything to go by. 

“Shorter, redhead, kind of sloppy smokey eye, looks like she would stab someone with a high heel?”

Plant Guy laughed, but the sound didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, that’s Taylor.”

Eddie pretended to be engrossed in his phone as he looked over to the stranger again, tilting his head to the side. 

“Well, I’ll tell you what. If you agree to help me load what I buy into my truck, and get me a plate of meatballs before we leave—the full size plate, by the way, I’m not settling for less than ten meatballs—I’ll help you get rid of her for good. I’m Eddie, by the way.”

“I’m Buck.” Plant guy—Buck—looked like Eddie had just handed him a goose that laid golden eggs. “For good? No, way. You can really do that?”

“I can.” Eddie said seriously, extending a hand to Buck. “But you have to trust me. My methods may be extreme, but I can almost guarantee results.”

A bit dramatic, maybe, but he still found himself smiling as Buck easily took his hand, taking a moment to savor the warmth. A sharp tug was all he needed to pull Buck up and out of the plants, making a sort of yelping noise, stumbling over a row of Boysenbär pots as Eddie put a hand on his hip, helping him steady. 

The effect was instantaneous—while the noise wasn’t loud, it was just enough to draw the attention of anyone who happened to be searching through the warehouse already. 

Eddie could feel the redhead’s eyes laser lock onto him as he steadied Buck’s hips, his opposite hand coming to cup Buck’s cheek. 

“Sweetheart, you okay?” He plastered what he hoped was a look of concern on his face as Buck turned bright red, something that thankfully could be attributed to his stumbling, and not the fact that a near stranger was calling him ‘sweetheart’. He was mercifully quick on the uptake, at least, a smile blooming over his face as he chuckled, ducking his head, pressing into Eddie’s hand a bit more, and oh, wow, that was fucking adorable.

“Yeah, I’m good, sorry, I just… thanks, baby.”

Eddie chuckled as he dropped the hand from Buck’s face, the hand on his hip lacing with Buck’s instead, tugging him along. “C’mon, I want to look at a new lamp for the living room. We need something brighter, and as much as your smile lights up a room, I’m tired of stubbing my toe in the morning.” Eddie said, pulling that story directly out of his ass, hoping that he was selling the ‘teasing boyfriend’ aspect as he pulled Buck along.

It was purely coincidence that the route to the lighting section of the warehouse was only a row away from the redhead that was currently glaring daggers into Eddie’s back. 

Once they turned the corner, Eddie let his hand slide out of Buck’s easily, the air a little cooler than he was expecting after being so close to someone so hot something so warm. 

“Holy shit, that was amazing.” Buck blurted out, looking at Eddie like he hung the moon, and yeah, Eddie could admit, he preened a little under the admiring gaze.

“There you go. You’ve just earned yourself a harassment free shopping experience.” Eddie said proudly, winking as he took a few steps back, snatching up a yellow bag and tossing it over his shoulder easily. Buck still looked a little flustered, and honestly, it was cuter than anything Eddie could have hoped for—but the tick of his watch brought him back to his mission. “Hey, I hate to scare off an ex and run, but I gotta make some quick choices, so...”

“Oh! Oh, uh, for sure. Thanks again, Eddie.”

“No problem. Good luck, Buck.” Eddie winked for good measure as he turned around, feeling warmth pool in his stomach. He hadn’t had that much fun flirting since before he was married, and while he worried occasionally that he lost his touch, the blush on Buck’s face begged to differ.

--

Eddie was making good time. He had narrowed it down to two potential presents—it was either a Vitval bunkbed / loft, complete with a desk and a physical-therapist-approved ladder, and Eddie knew that Chris had been dying for a bunkbed for forever, but... on the other hand, there was the Phal workspace, with plenty of drawers, shelves, and surfaces for Chris to completely drown with his pictures, Legos, arts and crafts. 

He had been stuck between the two—literally, standing between both display models—when he felt a hand slide into his own, blinking in surprise, a low voice in his ear before he could turn. 

“Sorry, uh, she followed me out of textiles. I’m so sorry, this is super weird, I just can’t shake her off, and—”

“Phal or Vitval?” Eddie asked, cutting him off, raising a brow as Buck just blinked.

“Uh, gesundheit?”

“Very funny.” Eddie said, squeezing Buck’s hand, tilting his head between the two. “I’ve been stuck here for like twenty minutes, and you’ve been no help, leaving me just so you could get your...” A quick peek into Buck’s bag told him everything he needed to know. “...artwork and lightbulbs. Which should we go with? Phal or Vitval?”

Buck blanched at that and Eddie let himself chuckle, shaking his head as Buck groaned. “Come on, Eddie, you know I’m no good at making decisions. I don’t even remember which toothpaste I like, I rely on you for things like that.” he said, and Eddie had to admit, he was impressed with the little tidbits of information Buck was throwing into their faux-relationship so easily. If this Taylor chick was still in earshot, Eddie would have bet that she was just plain pissed by now.

“I know, I know. You really are hopeless, aren’t you?” Eddie said with an exaggerated sigh, bringing their linked hands up to his cheek, pressing Buck’s knuckles against the corner of his mouth. It wasn’t intimate enough to be a kiss, not really, but to the casual bystander it would have looked like a simple show of affection, kissing his boyfriends knuckles in the middle of an IKEA. 

As he pulled the hand back, he did a quick scan around them—no redheads in sight. “I think your coast is clear—is she still hanging around?”

Snapping himself out of what looked like a trance, Buck blushed again—Eddie could get really used to that—and looked around, shaking his head. “No, I think she’s gone, um. Thanks again. And sorry. Again.” he said, their hands falling free again. Buck was the one to retreat this time, pointing a thumb over his shoulder. “I should, uh, probably go back and grab the dish set I had to ditch, but If you want my opinion, you should definitely go with the Flem.”

“Buck,” Eddie started, trying and failing to keep the smile off of his face and the laughter out of his voice as Buck turned away. “That was not an option!”

“Sorry, can’t hear you! Go with the Flem!”

--

In the end, Eddie had wound up buying both—Chris was turning ten, damn it, Eddie was allowed to treat him—and finished up ahead of schedule, swinging by the restaurant to make sure he had everything before he started the trek out to the parking garage. He was double checking his receipt when a tray clunked down across from him, two plates of meatballs sliding his way as his brows rose up into his hairline. 

Buck sat down shortly after, looking incredibly too apologetic as he handed Eddie a fork. “Sorry, she kind of followed me away from the register, and I saw you here, and... I did promise you meatballs, right?” he offered, and Eddie actually laughed, resting his head in his hand as he took the fork Buck offered, raising a meatball to Buck’s lips to help keep up posterity—and immediately stealing one from Buck’s plate for himself afterward. “So, Buck. What do you do when you’re not hiding in fake bamboo?”

It was incredibly easy to talk to Buck, Eddie found, dangerously easy. They had a fair amount in common, turned out—both had older sisters, Buck with one while Eddie had three, both spent a good amount of time at the gym when they weren’t at home, and Buck had spent some time with the SEALs while Eddie was in the Army.

They even worked together, in a sense—Buck was a firefighter with the 118 while Eddie was a paramedic with Station 6.

“...though I promise, I did not come to IKEA to enlist the help of a handsome paramedic in avoiding an ex girlfriend that literally might be Satan in disguise. I just needed some art to cover a drill hole in my wall before my landlord kills me.”

Eddie almost swallowed his fork, feeling a certain thrill build up inside of him—Buck was flirting. Flirting with Eddie! Eddie hadn’t been flirted with in an age and a half, but as much as he wanted it to continue, he knew that it would be unfair for him to let it continue without addressing the childs-bunk-bed-sized elephant in the room. “Well, much as I hate to admit it, I didn’t come to IKEA today to help a firefighter run away from Satan either. I’m here today buying some furniture for my kid. It’s his birthday next week.”

Eddie squared his jaw, watching Buck process the information, ready for the easy let down. “You have a son?”

Here it comes. Oh, well it was nice meeting you. Oh, well thanks again. Oh, enjoy your day, Oh—

“Do, um. Do you have pictures of him? I love kids.”

... oh. 

Any hesitation Eddie might have felt melted way as he brought his phone back up, easily scrolling through endless pictures of Chris, paying painful attention to the way Buck’s eyes grew wider than his smile.

Oh, no. 

Buck wasn’t just hot, he was cute.

--

Eddie had to admit; after Buck helped him load the furniture into the bed of his truck, true to his word, and Eddie had scribbled his number out on Buck’s hand with a hot pink marker (the hazards of sharing a vehicle with a kid), he wasn’t sure what he should be expecting. What he definitely wasn’t expecting was a message to be waiting on his phone as soon as he started his truck.

Unknown Number, 11:01 AM: so maybe i have a confession to make

Sent, 11:03 AM: Maybe?

Eddie couldn’t deny the spike of curiosity he felt with that, taking a moment to save Buck’s number in his phone as the three dots appeared again.

Buck, 11:05 AM: yes, maybe. taylor maybe actually left when you pulled me out of the plants

i didn’t see her again for the rest of the day

i was just kind of... being self indulgent after that

wow this sounds way creepier than i thought i am so sorry

Literally laughing out loud in his car, Eddie let himself reread the message twice, a smile growing on his face as he typed out a response.

Sent, 11:09 AM: Tell you what. You help me build these monstrosities, maybe bring over a beer, maybe let me kiss you goodnight, and I promise I won’t hold your awkward flirting against you.

He felt another thrill race through his stomach as he sent the message, putting his truck in gear, not trusting himself to look down as his phone buzzed again until he was safely at a stop light.

Buck, 11:11 AM: it’s a date :) :) :) :)

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

Boys are made to be men. Part 4 - The cow dance

Series Masterlist - Bucky Masterlist - Full Masterlist

Summary: Things are different outside the city. When Bucky moves out of the city to live closer to his father’s best friend, Steve, he meets a peculiar girl from a strange family. She’s loved by everyone in the village and like him, she’s missing a limb. And, to Bucky’s surprise, she’s determined to make him part of her life.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count: 2897

Warning: This chapter contains a panic attack.

Author’s note: I am not disabled and I couldn’t ever imagine what it’s like. If you have anything to not about that aspect of the story, please send me a message so I can fix possible mistakes or misunderstandings in upcoming chapters. Also, let me know if you want to be tagged in future updates.

The smell of beautiful flowers surrounds you as you gather Peggy’s favorite flowers, just as Steve requested. She enjoys pinks and reds together, with white to blend it together. As gently as you can, you lay them on your workspace and start to work on a bouquet. A bouquet you make almost every week. ‘Y/n, are you still taking the kids to the cow dance tomorrow?‘ You peek up from your work at the bouquet. Your eyes meet Steve’s, who looks hopeful and happy. Happy like he always is. ‘Oh, yes, of course,‘ you smile meekly at him, continuing to work on the bouquet Steve requested for Peggy like he does every week. It’s adorable really. The two are still so in love. You adore it but you can’t treasure it as much as you had last Monday. ‘Did you invite Bucky?‘ You feel like someone just stepped on your toes as pain shoots through her body. You try to ignore it but Steve can see. He always sees. ‘No, but I’m sure Sam is dragging him along. Those two get along great,‘ you give him another smile as you peek up at him for a mere second. You are uncomfortable as you take a deep breath. ‘I haven’t really seen him after Monday.‘ ‘Now that you say that, neither have I.‘ Steve seems worried at that fact, but you can tell he’s trying to hide it. He seems lost in thought, getting nervous somehow. ‘I got your bouquet,‘ you say to pull him out of his thoughts. ‘What happened between the two of you?‘

A loud pang comes from an old pickup carrying things away from the market. A second ago, you were walking down the street with Bucky. Now, you’re alone. Her eyes dart to the ground where Bucky has tried to take shelter, look extremely terrified. You kneel next to him, gently putting your hand on his shoulder. ‘Bucky, it was a car. You’re fine,‘ you lull to him, ‘please look at me.‘ His fearful eyes look up at you. There are movies of memories playing behind them, in his brain, on repeat. ‘But I- It’s not- It’s not safe,‘ he stutters, trembling as he speaks. You see tears forming in his eyes, beads of sweat on his forehead. ‘You’re good Bucky, listen to the sound of my voice,‘ you hum to him, helping him sit up on the pavement, ‘you’re in the village. A car made a loud sound. You’re good.’ And as if it’s nothing, he snaps back into it. He looks around in a frenzy. ‘Wha-‘ ‘You’re good,‘ you repeat to him, ‘it’s fine.‘ You put your hands on his shoulders and look into his eyes, searching for the fear you just saw. It seems mostly gone. A smile pulls back on your face as you pull him into your arms. ‘You’re good,‘ you repeat again.

‘Nothing really,‘ You tell Steve, ‘we had lunch, walked around a bit, and then we went home.‘ ‘Something tells me you’re not telling the full story,‘ Steve says and crosses his arms. You know that look on his face. It’s firm and fatherly. It’s a “tell me what you’re keeping from me young lady“ kind of look. ‘I don’t want to speak for him,‘ you tell him with a shrug as you try to look indifferent about the whole ordeal, ‘he wouldn’t want me to.‘ ‘Y/n, I don’t know what happened but he normally goes to talk to me,‘ Steve tells you, ‘he didn’t come to me and you look like shit-‘ ‘Language.‘ ‘I’m sorry but it’s true,‘ he states, slamming his hands on your workstation, ‘he doesn’t tell anyone when he’s unwell.‘ ‘Look, I’ll go by his house today to see if he wants to talk,‘ you tell him reluctantly, ‘if he doesn’t want to, I’ll come right over to yours.‘ ‘You better keep that promise,‘ Steve tells you as he puts down the money for the bouquet. You watch as he walks away and feel yourself crumble with every step he takes outside. Bucky doesn’t want to talk to you. He didn’t want to talk to you Tuesday, he didn’t want to talk to you Wednesday, and he didn’t want to talk to you yesterday. You tried. You really did.

And yet here you are again. Friday afternoon, after your shift, passing past Bucky’s house. For a second, you want to walk past but you promised Steve. You promised and you can never go back on a promise you made to the captain. With a sigh and a hesitant step, you walk up to his front door and press the doorbell, silently hoping he won’t go mad from the sound. His blinds have been closed since Monday and no one truly knows what he’s up to as he has no job and he has only seen Sam once or twice. So there’s no one to check up on him. After you first ring, there is no stir in the house. You sigh, reluctant to ring again but you do it nonetheless. After all, Steve asked her to check up on him. So you press the doorbell again, longer this time. Finally, you hear footsteps inside. You hear them come closer and the door opens. ‘Steve, I told you I’m not going to- Oh. Y/n.‘ You look him up and down quickly. He looks tired, stressed, annoyed. There’s not much of his handsome stature left. His beard is out of control, the bags under his eyes could hold melons, and his stature looks broken. ‘Hi Bucky.‘ There’s a slight smile on your face, a painful one. ‘It wasn’t Steve who kept ringing your doorbell.‘ He takes a second to realize what you just told him. ‘Oh, okay. Ehm.‘ ‘Can I come in?‘ ‘It’s kind of a mess,‘ he says, trying to make up excuses but you’re not taking them. ‘I don’t mind.‘ ‘I do.‘ ‘Then tell me I can’t come inside.‘ It’s like they’ve both taken a deep breath, holding it until one of you faints or gives up. Bucky knows he can’t win. He’s tired and upset while you look ready to fight. ‘Fine,‘ he grumbles and opens the door further, not waiting for you to walk inside as he walks over to the living room. You step inside and have a look around. The whole place looks like an Ikea showroom. Everything is black and white, it doesn’t feel homey at all. There’s nothing here that looks comfortable. It reminds you of a hospital. That’s how black, white, and sterile the whole place looks. And yet, it looks a mess. There’s nothing really messy but it just is a mess. It feels like a mess. ‘Why did you run from me Bucky?‘ ‘I didn’t run.‘ ‘Bucky, please.‘ ‘Y/n, I’m broken,‘ he yells at you, ‘you got to see that in person. Why aren’t YOU running from ME?‘ ‘You’re not the only one who’s broken Bucky,‘ you tell him, trying hard not to raise your voice at him, ‘running doesn’t fix anything.‘ ‘So you’d rather befriend me and sit by my side every time I duck onto the concrete because a firework went off?‘ ‘Yes, yes I would. Because it won’t be like that forever.‘ ‘How do you know?‘ There’s venom in his voice. It’s clear to you that he never let anyone in after his accident. To make a point, you sit down on his couch, lifts your pant leg, and take off your leg, putting it on his coffee table. ‘You think this just happened out of nowhere? You think I’ve got a dad that’s not related to me because my life was all sunshine and happiness? No! I lost my dad to cancer and my mom in a car accident. Do you know what it’s like to see your mother bleed out in front of you?‘ Bucky is in shock. He doesn’t know what to do with himself. The living room feels so much bigger than it normally is. ‘I- I didn’t know.‘ You take a deep breath to calm yourself down and put your leg back on. ‘Bucky, I get that we’ve only known each other for a few days and I don’t expect you to open up to me but at least give me a chance to get to know you,‘ you ask him getting back on your feet, ‘because I honestly really like you.‘ He doesn’t say a word. He can’t. He just watches you walk towards the door. ‘Cow dance starts at eight tomorrow. I’m leaving at a quarter to eight with the kids. If you want to join, you know where to find me.‘

7:30 am Saturday. Bucky sits on the couch in his living room sipping on a cup of coffee. He stares at the white, wooden coffee table that used to be perfectly white. Now, there’s a deep scratch on it made by Y/n’s leg. Yesterday, he had felt a bit pissed off by the scratch but today is different. That scratch tells a story and he should see it as a reminder to be better. Today is just the first day of trying but trying started well. He did have nightmares but at least he woke up on time. At least he had breakfast. At least dressing himself went without a hitch. Outside he hears kids happily playing in the street. He should go outside. His coffee is cold anyway. He puts his coffee cup in the sink and heads outside, grabbing his leather jacket as he steps through the door. There are about ten children and a few parents, as well as Steve and Peggy who are sitting on their porch as per usual. He sees you sit on the grass with two or three children. ‘Good morning Bucky,’ Steve calls over to him, ‘you decided to join us?’ Bucky walks over to the two. ‘Yeah, thought it’d be the right move,’ he tells the two, leaning against their fencing. ‘How are you doing?’ ‘Not great,’ he admits, ‘but Y/n convinced me to come.’ Peggy grins. ‘That’s nice,’ she says, ‘well you better hurry up and join her. The kids are bugging her to go earlier.’ Bucky nods to them as a means of saying bye and walks to the next house where you are sitting in the grass. ‘Good morning.’ You look up at him and smile brightly. ‘Good morning.’ He sits down next to you, looking at the book in your hands. It’s a children’s book with colorful pictures. There are two children sitting with you in the grass while the others are running around. ‘Who are we waiting for?’ The door to the house behind you opens and out walk Tony, Peter, and a woman that Bucky does not recognize. ‘We’re waiting for them,’ you smile and get on your feet. Bucky follows. ‘Pepper, this is Bucky. Bucky, this is Pepper. My dad’s girlfriend.’ ‘Nice to meet you miss,’ Bucky says with a smile and shakes her hand. ‘Nice to meet you too Bucky.’ The woman has a warm smile and a powerful look about her. ‘Morgan, you ready?’ The girl who was sitting next to Y/n gets up with the biggest smile and takes Pepper’s hand. ‘Everyone, grab your buddy, we’re leaving,’ you shout at the children on the street. Morgan grabs your hand and pulls it slightly. ‘What’s up Morgan?’ ‘Who is Peter’s buddy?’ Peter sees the interaction and walks over. ‘Morgan, do you want to be my buddy? Tony can be your mom’s buddy,’ Peter tells the girl. ‘But you’re always Thalia’s buddy,’ Morgan frowns. ‘I can be Y/n’s buddy,’ Bucky offers, ‘if that’s okay with you.’ Morgan looks Bucky up and down. He had never imagined he could feel so judged by a child. ‘You’ll do.’ Morgan grabs Peter’s hand and pulls him with her. Bucky and you stare at each other with your jaws on the floor. It takes a few seconds before you burst into laughter. ‘She is opinionated.’ You laugh and takes Bucky’s hand. You turn to the kids and holds up your hands. ‘Everyone ready?’ The group yells yes. ‘Everyone follow Peter and Morgan. Bucky and me will walk in the back.’ Slowly but surely, the group starts moving. The parents mostly stay with their children so it doesn’t take long for Bucky and you to fall behind. ‘I honestly thought you wouldn’t come,’ you admit to him, ‘but I’m glad you did.’ Bucky can’t keep the smile from his face. ‘Me too.’ Without really realizing it, his thumb starts to gently stroke the back of your hand. ‘Can you promise me that you’ll try to talk to me or Steve when something like this happens again?’ ‘Do you believe me if I say that I’ll try?’ You look up at him, meeting his eyes. There’s this hurt in them but there’s something else. You don’t quite know what it is but you know he means it. ‘I do,’ you smile at him. ‘Then I’ll try. And I do apologize for shutting you out. I shouldn’t have done that.’ ‘I’ll only accept your apology if you show me your art.’ You do a little skip in front of him to stop him from walking while You’re still holding hands. ‘Yes ma’am,’ he says with a smile. He watches as this devilish grin appears on your face. He doesn’t know what is about to come but he does know that it’ll leave him with more sinfull thoughts infesting his mind. ‘Good boy.’ You press a chaste kiss to his cheek and continue to drag him back in line with the children. His mouth falls open as he tags along. What are you doing with his head?

The group gets to the field and dispurses. Children that came with their parents go with them, children that came alone stay with you. The kids climb onto the wooden fences and lean over, chatting excitedly with each other. ‘So what can I expect,’ Bucky asks you. ‘Cows.’ You give Bucky a cocky look. ‘Cows acting crazy.’ ‘Y/n! Bucky!’ You turn around and see the group from the bar coming up to them. Hugs and handshakes are exchanged, as well as greetings and friendly words about everyone’s appearance. ‘Bucky, I haven’t seen you around in a minute,’ Sam cheers at Bucky, giving him a tight hug that Bucky did not expect. ‘Ah, you know,’ Bucky smiles, patting Sam’s shoulder, ‘I don’t have a job so I don’t go out much.’ ‘Let me know if you need something to do,’ Sam tells him, ‘I work down at the town hall. We always have things to do.’ Bucky shoots a quick glance at you. ‘I might come around,’ Bucky tells him. ‘Good, good, we’ll see you two at Crocker’s Folly after this, right?’ ‘Yeah, of course.’ You smiles at him. ‘Just gotta get the kids back.’ ‘For sure, you need help?’ ‘Nah, I’ve got Peter and I’m sure I can guilt Bucky into helping.’ ‘Excuse me?’ Bucky stands next to you and Sam but he’s getting completely ignored by both. ‘I’m sure you can. I’m just glad you’ve got a new target,’ Sam says to her but his eyes are on Bucky, ‘ey Bucknasty, you good with kids?’ It feels like a stab in his heart for a second. This is not the moment. ‘Y-yeah, I’m fine,’ he meekly smiles. You notice right away. ‘Sam, could you watch the kids for a second, I think I lost my keys on the way here,’ you lie to Sam and drag Bucky away from the group, just behind a bush she stops. ‘Are you okay?’ ‘I will be,’ ‘Bucky takes a deep breath, ‘just not now.’ You nod and take his hand in yours again. ‘Just not now,’ you agrees, ‘let me know when you’re ready to go back.’ Touching your hand feels like heaven. It takes a lot of the stress away. It keeps him grounded. The cheering of the children gets louder. ‘We should get back.’ ‘We should,’ you repeat with childlike excitement. You, once again, drag him along. He follows you, feeling a kind of rush. For a second, he feels like a teenager following his crush to somewhere secret. It’s exciting and new. You stand behind the children as the cows start running outside. They buck, sprint, play. It’s a truly wonderful display of fun. It’s almost as if they’re playing games. Playing tag, hide and seek, duck duck goose. It’s exhilarating and exciting. It’s like seeing hope in front of you. Like the winter snow is melting away under the golden sun. Bucky understands while the whole village comes to watch. He understands why you have never missed a year of seeing this. He understands why even the ones who don’t seem to care for it show up. Faith has brought him here, has brought him you. Now it’s up to him to take this chance and make the change. Time for him to look at the brighter side of life, as hard as that might be. And as you start leaning against him, he feels at peace for the first time in months. His arm drapes over your shoulder and you put your arms around his waist. He smiles. Yes, this is fine.

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Tag list: @nickkie1129​ @healy-facedown

[cagestark]

Tony/ofc pretty please? Iron Man helps out after an animal breakout at the Bronx Zoo, and a young zookeeper there wants to thank him for his services? ~@ironspiderstarker

I had so much fun, even if I know nothing about zookeeping or animals. Hope you can suspend your disbelief and enjoy this PWP!

About this: Tony/unnamed, undescribed OFC. Oral. 2.4 k. Nff.  -

In her office is their first face to face meeting. 

(Sure, she’d been among the six other employees called in at three in the morning during the worst snow-storm New York City had seen in the last ten years. They’d all met trundled up in their coats and hats and scarves and boots outside the gates, shivering when Iron-Man—Iron-Man! she thought to herself, breathless—appeared like a star in the sky, landing in front of them in a flash of burning thrusters. 

But then, when they’d met, it had been face-to-faceplate, and everyone (herself included) had been far more concerned about Lyuba.)

“Cat’s out of the bag, huh?” the suit had said, voice more mechanical than human. “Or cage, should I say. That’s a hell of a malfunction in your security system. Why can’t you tranq her?” 

“She’s pregnant,” another employee said. “Twin, male cubs. There are more people in a single city block here than there are Siberian Tigers left in the entire world—we can’t risk causing her or the pregnancy any harm.” 

“And we can’t risk our funding by reporting this,” someone muttered under their breath.

“I don’t know if you’ve seen the news, but I usually wrangle humans. Bad guys, specifically. I don’t think I’m qualified to cat-sit.”

He had been persuaded, though. They had huddled around each other watching on the surveillance cameras as he approached the tiger without fear, coaxing her back to the enclosure. They’d all let out cheers, breathless with relief. One after one, they had trickled out until only you remained in the office, watching over footage of Lyuba roaming the zoo. Then rewatching the footage of Iron-man shooing her along like a sheep-dog might his flock.

When the knock comes, she calls out a distracted, Come in, without thinking about how any other employee wouldn’t have bothered knocking. When she looks up from the footage, Tony Stark is standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame. A masked madman might have shocked her less—though it certainly wouldn’t have made her so breathless. 

The closest she’s ever been to a celebrity is walking past Matt Damon once two Christmas Eves ago. This kind of close contact is far different. Tony Stark is far different. He looks at her with the most clever eyes she’s ever seen. She can’t help but feel like he sees through her, into her. When he smiles, her knees press together underneath the desk. He looks even more handsome in person than on television. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” he says, not looking sorry in the slightest. “I left my suit at the curb and running. But I figured this would only take a minute.” 

“I—sorry?”

He points to the computer you’re sitting at. “Whatever malfunctioned in your security system and opened the tiger enclosure? I figured I could lend a little expertise. Save me another midnight trip.” 

“Oh! Of course. Please—” 

Tony crosses the room with sure steps, and she scrambles up and aside to give him her seat. He brings with him the scent of expensive cologne, the kind with a name her lips are too clumsy to form. The smile he gives her is warm, lines crinkling at the corners of his eyes. Then he turns his eyes to the computer, fingers moving expertly across the keyboard. 

She can’t help but stand by him and watch while he works. 

“Thank you again for helping us with Lyuba,” she says. All the words come out in order—no small miracle with how nervous she is, with the way her hands are shaking. She clasps them together in her lap. “I spent the most time with the large cats. I was actually the first one that they called when she escaped. If anything had happened to her, it would have broken my heart.”

“Hey, what’s the use of a multi-million dollar, practically indestructible suit if I can’t use it to help round up wayward cats in my downtime? And you know, I think I see your problem here. Jesus, this program is outdated. I’m going to make a donation when the sun’s up. A big one. Splurge on something a little more twenty-first century. Off-topic question here—” she blinks when he turns to face her. God, his eyes are huge, dark as the whiskey she keeps in her freezer. “—what would you have done if I weren’t in Manhattan?” 

“Well,” she says. “I probably would have gone in after her. I don’t have a multi-million dollar indestructible suit, but I do have knucklebones.” 

“I’m sorry—?” 

“They’re her favorite treat.” 

“Ah,” Tony says. “Well. I’m not exactly comforted by your protective equipment being something that only makes you look like an even tastier treat to a protective tiger.”

“Needless to say, I am very, very grateful.” 

He laughs, a charming sound. This time when her knees clench together, it’s a visible motion, one that she catches his eyes flickering down to spot it. When he turns back towards the computer screen, it’s with a smirk. He wets his lips, and she wets her own in unconscious mirroring. 

“You’re welcome,” he says lowly. 

She swallows, grateful that he can’t see the way her pulse pounds, the temporary insanity inside her that makes the next statement pass her lips:  “Maybe I could—thank you properly.” 

For a moment, the meaning doesn’t dawn on him. He stares with an almost innocent openness. Then his eyes widen fractionally. “Ah—a generous offer. Not necessary though, I assure you.” 

“I—of course. Jesus. I shouldn’t have even—I’m not usually so—” 

“It’s fine,” he says, smiling. “Like I said, a very, very generous offer. But I’m not usually in the business of haranguing sexual favors as payment for being a good samaritan.” 

“I’m hardly feeling harangued,” she admits. “If you aren’t interested though, I understand.” 

“It’s not a lack of interest,” he says. “Trust me. But I have been making notable progress in being less of an asshole these last few years. It’s taken a lot of self-reflection and, full disclosure, plenty of therapy, and—” 

“And saving tigers.” 

“—that too. I—” His tirade cuts off when she slips from the stool down to kneel beside him in the cheap Ikea rolling chair he’s seated in. His throat bobs as he swallows, staring down at the sight of her. When she places one hand just above his knee, he lets out a long, audible breath into the quiet room. 

“If you really aren’t interested,” she says, voice trembling. “Now is the time to say something.” 

His head falls back to rest against the top of the chair while he looks upwards toward the fluorescent lights. Then his burning gaze is back on her, eyes serious and searching as they rake over her face. “You really want to do this?” 

If he were to put his hand between her legs, he’d have overwhelming physical evidence, but this is the last thing she feels brave enough to say. She’s already on her knees in front of Tony Stark himself. That fills her quota of bravery for the day. Instead, she just nods fervently. Whatever his last reservations were fall to the wayside. His hands fall to his belt buckle and her legs clench together at the sound. Worse than one of Pavlov’s dogs, she thinks. 

“This is what you wanted, right?” he asks, quiet while he pulls out his cock. He’s only half hard, but it’s impressive. All those nights she’d spent gossiping with girlfriends about how Tony Stark must be well hung, and now here is proof. Cut, thicker than she’s used to, and long, jerking under her gaze. When she glances back up at his eyes, she can see that he’s asked a question, but she’s already forgotten what it is. 

Instead, she leans forward, letting one hand press flat against the well-trimmed pubic hair to steady the base while her tongue laps at the head. He tastes clean, maybe a little soapy, like he’d rushed to shower before stepping into the Iron-man suit. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees his hands tighten on the arms of the chair and considers that bolder encouragement than any spoken word. 

Pressing his cock upwards towards the band t-shirt he wears, she ducks down to lap at his balls, watching his face to assess his reactions. Judging by the way his eyes shut, full-mouth parting, this is something he likes. So she throws herself into it whole-heartedly, sucking one into her mouth and then giving attention to the other until Tony’s cock is full, silken, burning skin when she tilts her head to nuzzle against it. When she pulls back, she is pleased to see the way his chest heaves, the way precum pearls at the tip of his cock. 

When she leans in again to lap it away, Tony groans. 

“Jesus, your mouth,” he murmurs. 

She hums, heart buzzing with fresh confidence. As often as his eyes fall shut, he fights them open again and sets them on her, on her mouth where she presses open-mouthed kisses along his shaft, one palm cradling his balls in her warm palm. After a while, she is torturing herself as much as she tortures him, so she pulls back and opens her mouth (jaws already straining at the sheer width of him) and takes as much of his cock into her mouth as she can. 

The long, low fuck he mutters travels down between her legs, causing her to give a groan of her own. While she’d love to work a hand down to where she’s wet and aching, she needs both of them: one to work the length of his cock that she can’t swallow, and one to roll his balls. 

“Fuck me,” he says. “Did I say I didn’t want any more midnight trips to the zoo because—holy shit, that’s, that’s, God, please don’t stop—” 

She takes him deeper in response, letting the blunt head of his cock nudge the back of her throat. He jerks, hands tightening into fists on the arms of the chair. She takes a steadying breath and then works him deeper into her mouth, swallowing around the urge to gag, swallowing again and again when sounds begin to drip from Tony’s mouth in an endless stream, half-formed pleas and praises and filthy words.

It’s easy to lose herself between his legs, to become nothing but an aching knot of need, a useful hot mouth for his hips to fuck into (though he is very gentlemanly about it, little aborted thrusts, one shaking hand coming up to pet at her hair). She reaches up to encourage him to thread his fingers through her hair and take hold of her, to guide her, to use her. She keeps one hand fisted at the base of him to keep from injuring herself and otherwise lets him use her. 

She can’t help but imagine it happening again and again in a thousand different scenarios. Her beneath his desk while he works, keeping his cock warm. Her beneath the table during a rough meeting, his hands knotted in her hair. On her knees between his legs in his fancy penthouse, sucking him off for her own enjoyment. 

Suddenly he coaxes her off, one hand cupping her chin. “Are you alright?” he asks, breathlessly. “You were whining.” 

“‘M good,” she says, voice husky from the battering her throat has taken. “So good. Please don’t stop.” 

Tony shudders all over. “Fuck, I like the way you sound like that. Is that because of me, sweet thing? When your throat is sore in the morning, are you going to remember this and touch yourself?” 

“Uh-huh,” she breathes in the affirmative. Her eyes can’t focus on his face for any longer than a moment, not when his cock is there, glistening with her saliva, red and throbbing. Not when her mouth feels empty and open and desperate to be filled. She opens her mouth again, tongue lax, and he moans as he feeds his cock back between her lips. 

“I’m getting close,” he breathes, one thumb tracing the line of where her lips are wrapped around his cock. “Where do you want it? Absolutely no obligation to swallow, you’re in charge—” 

All the ideas are appealing: him pulling out to come on her face, pearlescent seed that she can lap from her lips. Pulling off so that she can finish him with her hand, so that she can watch every last twitch of his cock as she drags him over the edge. But this is the only chance she’ll ever have to be on her knees for this incredible, god-like man. There’s no chance she’ll let him cum anywhere but her mouth—no chance that she won’t swallow every last drop of him down. 

Kneeling up for better vantage, she plants both hands on hips and coaxes him forward, forward to thrust into her. The message must be clear as the realization crosses his face, eyes squeezing shut in an expression of the most sublime ecstasy. He murmurs one last warning before his pelvis tightens, abs showing in sharp definition where his shirt has ridden up. Then his cock jerks in her mouth, the scent of cum sharp on the back of her tastebuds. She groans, working her tongue as she swallows once, twice, thrice. 

As soon as he has finished, he draws her up onto shaking legs and pulls her onto his lap, his erection pressed between them as he cups her jaw tenderly and kisses the breath out of her. He must be able to taste himself in her mouth with the way his tongue plunders her, drags sensually against her own, but he only groans. 

When he draws back, his cheeks are red, eyes hazy. “I don’t even know your name,” he says, laughing a little. 

“I don’t remember it right now myself,” she says. 

“How about your address?” Tony asks. “I’d like to continue this, if you’ll have me. Somewhere more private. Unless you’re comfortable coming back to mine.” 

She blinks in surprise, sex throbbing when she wonders how he means to continue this. This whole night has been like a fever dream, the strangest, wettest fever dream of her life. And she realizes that she isn’t ready to wake up. So she drags her knuckles gently across his iconic facial hair and says, throat raw: “I’d like that.” 

[jbbuckybarnes]

Professor Sugar - 7/7

Pairing: Student!Reader x Professor!Bucky Description: Like tons of other students you struggle with finances, but you can’t get any aid since your parents are filthy rich. The system doesn’t care that they broke off contact after you came out as bisexual. There is, however, someone else that cares. The prof of your class on PTSD and trauma. Professor Barnes. Warnings: 18+, f/m smut, secret relationship, not beta read.

Professor Sugar Masterlist // Masterlist

New beginnings

You took the final in his class with a jumper of his hugging your body for support. The thoughts going into it were neutral. You had studied a lot, but you also didn‘t want to get your hopes up too high. The week before finals and the week he graded them were almost without contact. You understood that. Both of you didn‘t want to feel like you were cheating the system. Only sleeping in his shirts really helped to not go crazy during that time.

With weak knees you went to his apartment the day grades were announced on the school‘s online platform. They went up right when you were at his front door and he would either have to calm you down or celebrate with you. Mobile data really was absolute shit in this city. Why did you not wait until the grades went online with going outside. Oh, yeah, celebration or makeup sex. The damn loading bar on top of your browser was killing you as you got out at your station. Once you were in the proximity of his WiFi it loaded fully. Your eyes went wide and you wanted to collapse and yell at the same time. A-. You ran up the stairs and got the door opened in an instant before falling into his arms. „I. Am. So. Proud. Of. You.“ He said kissing you after every word. A happy squeal left you as you grabbed his face to kiss him thoroughly. While he closed the door behind you he also grabbed you closer. There was not even a millimeter of space between the two of you. He couldn‘t keep his hands off you. Your shirt flew somewhere into the direction of his couch, his somewhere onto the kitchen floor. Your bra was removed in one go before his thumbs went under your panties and janked both your leggings and panties down to your thighs. He looked into your eyes for a second, panting heavily, „Nope, won‘t make it to the bed.“ You were picked up and pushed onto the kitchen counter, the rest of your clothes taken off before you heard his. „Hmm, full circle.“ You hummed as he came up above you. „I had to keep this from you for a week.“ He growled as his kisses went down your neck. „Oh, so your primal touch comes from that and not from you missing my-“ You were silenced with a harsh, passionate kiss and a deep push making your back arch up. „Missed you so much, so proud of you.“ His mouth claimed yours again as he started thrusting into you. „Knew you‘d wing it.“ He grumbled before moaning. There were little bites into your neck and shoulder that bathed you in a new nuance of bliss. „Finally all mine.“ He growled. He was celebrating that you weren‘t his student anymore. No more subtle guilt. „Ho-ly shit.“ You panted before moaning out again. „Uh-hu. That‘s my girl.“ He panted before thrusting harder, making you scream out. „Oh fuck.“ You squirmed in his tight grasp on you. „C‘mon. Show me you‘re mine.“ He growled down at you. He needed the satisfaction of claiming you as his now. This wasn‘t just some student and professor having the hots for each other and one helping the other financially anymore. This was passion and love. His hips stuttered as your head fell back with a loud moan and a deep scratch of his back. His warmth was following shortly, before he settled there for a moment. „Looks like we should clean the counter.“ You giggled and went through his hair as he came up a bit to look at you. „Mine. Mine. Mine.“ He kissed the corners of your lips and your nose with that. „Yours.“ You whispered while going over his beard. He got off the kitchen counter shortly after, making you see the mess you made with him. „Hm, not bad.“ You shrugged. „Want me to do better? ’Cause I‘m not finished with you, darling.“ He smirked a little evil before swooping you up and bringing you to his bed. There was another round of passionate and intense sex before you changed to sweet lovemaking. You opened your eyes two hours later. You both had fallen asleep from all the physical activities and you really needed the nap after all those weeks of studying. You grabbed a pair of his briefs, his giant hoodie from the armchair in his bedroom and your socks from the kitchen floor. The other clothes laying around the apartment were put into a neat pile and placed on top of his washing machine. You cleaned up the countertop and proceeded to stalk his fridge. There was a little box of donuts with a „For you“ in his handwriting on it. He really was a cute dork through and through when he wasn‘t in professor mode or putting you through the mattress. You grabbed the box and sat back down on the countertop, ignoring the bar stools as per usual. A hum behind you got you out of your thoughts. He was leaning against the frame of the bedroom door and looked at you with a content smile. „You look the best in my clothes.“ He said with his soft and grumbly sleep voice. „You look good...naked.“ You eyed him, still chewing on a chocolate donut with chocolate filling. „I‘ll put on something. Can‘t have you attached to me all day.“ He chuckled turning around. „Yes, you can. Especially with that ass.“ You commented, mouth still full of food. „You‘ll get to see it as many times as you want. Just need to be wearing something to give you something else.“ You heard him from his closet. „If it isn‘t an orgasm I‘m not interested.“ You yelled over and heard him laugh. In briefs and a hoodie himself he came out of the bedroom with a box in his arms. „Where did that come from?“ You raised a brow, letting the last bit of the donut vanish into your mouth. „I think you were too busy moaning your heart out to see this in my closet.“ He sent you sly smile before setting it down on the coffee table and waiting for you to come over to the couch. „Well, let‘s see if this compares to your hard work.“ You smirked and sat down next to him and heard a deep inhale and exhale. „So...I know we have been talking about this whole thing of me buying you stuff and that you didn‘t want to feel like you were just sleeping with me to get things from me. So I saved up all the things I bought you in between until the end of the semester. Which is right now.“ He explained all innocent and cute. „So I just put my moans into a savings account...is what you‘re telling me?“ You grinned before laughing out loud with him. „I mean...kinda. Hey, look, I love buying you things. Not because you have sex with me, but because I genuinely like spending time with you and because I want to see you grow as a human being.“ He explained a little more serious. „Sugar Daddy with feelings.“ You whispered with a smile. „I‘d be pretty upset if you would‘ve managed to fake all of this.“ He chuckled. „I‘m not. If I could do that, I already would‘ve had my try at this whole sex for money kinda thing. I mean, I‘m a desperate college student.“ You laughed, „But I guess not anymore, ’cause you already helped me so much with little things.“ You thought about that little study account idea he had in the beginning of the semester.  By now it had grown to a few thousand people and you were starting to get things offered as well as people asking you for products, telling you how to make them, making new friends in the process. You leaned over to give him a kiss on the cheek. „Open it.“ His demeanor was soft. Softer than usual. You grabbed the box closer and undid the bow around it. There must be tons of things in there unless he bought something incredibly big. You flipped open the lid and stopped breathing for a second, „Wow.“ „There is an order to it too,“ he announced proudly and got out the first three things. „Toys,“ you commented dryly and looked at him, „Why did you wait with those? I just spent two weeks without your d-...whatever, let me see them.“ „Hmm.“ You read through each description on the box. One of them was something one of your friends kept talking about, so that was a good sign. The other two would need a thorough testing. „Well, we won‘t get sleep tonight...or, well, I will, after these prove to be good.“ You grinned at him and got a kiss behind your ear with a deep chuckle. He handed you the next packaging, „The rosegold headphones I‘ve been talking about!“ You could see in his eyes how much he bathed in the feeling of making your face light up like this. You unpacked the headphones and ran through the entire apartment to get it to charge somewhere. „So, there‘s been that thing you kept talking about whenever we were driving over here from campus…“ He held up a H&M bag and set it down between you both. „You..bought me the teddy bear material jacket.“ You gave him full puppy eyes for that. Your heart just started exploding at how much he listened to the little things on the side. „You will look gorgeous in it.“ He smiled and gave you a kiss. „Will you take pictures of me in it?“ You asked all giddy about it and got a big nod back. Then he got out four big books and set them down on your lap. „All the books from the author of the Pentagon book?“ You jumped and wiggled on the couch cushion. „With audio book codes,“ he announced super proud of himself. „My god. I‘m not sure if you can top that.“ You said hugging the books. He made a gift card appear between two of his fingers. The little logo on it spelling IKEA. „$700 IKEA gift card...bought it after we managed to get that noise complaint. You can buy a bed or a closet with it. Or a stupid amount of decorations.“ He started chuckling at your frozen body with the shocked face. „SEVEN-HUNDRED-DOLLARS. ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR GODDAMN MIND?“ You threw yourself backwards against the cushions. „Yes, I am.“ He chuckled and dragged you back up. „You can also spend it helping others...if that‘s what you wanna do,“ he said still holding onto your hands gently. „But that‘s it, right?“ You looked at him frowning a little. „Well…“ He scratched his back and chuckled at your head falling into your hands. „Only two more things.“ He finally let you know. The next thing was brought out, jewelry box, flat, a bit bigger. He opened it to reveal a necklace with a little plate. „Wait…“ You tried to process and looked up. „Had part of my old tags redone for this necklace. I want you to know how much you mean to me. I wouldn‘t just give this to anyone. That thing is what makes me feel pain and safety,“ He picked it up, „And you don‘t have to wear it, but it would mean the world to me if you did.“ You sat there with your mouth so wide open that your jaw started hurting, „I‘m- Wow- This is- Yes, of course I‘ll wear it.“ You nodded heavily as his demeanor changed to a more relaxed one and he carefully put the necklace around your neck. „And the last gift kinda comes with that one.“ He mumbled and got out the last gift, also a small box, a little less jewelry-box-looking. He handed it to you and you carefully opened it. There was a key in it, a key with a „B“ stamped into it at the top. „This is also your home now, if you want it to.“ He said almost shy. For some reason this didn‘t feel fast moving. Yes, this thing had only been going on for around 3 months, but it just felt right the entire time. You had the right chemistry, you talked a lot, you just got each others‘ brains and your morals matched. „This place isn‘t my home, Bucky. You are,“ you whispered. It was true, since you both hit it off you were worrying less about the future and your place in the world.

He grabbed your hands again and cleared his throat before looking at you. „I just knew you were different the second you came up to that desk and asked me for suggestions like the biggest, most determined, nerd. You seemed so interesting and you just sounded like an unpolished crystal the more we talked. So I started looking forward to talking to you in my office twice a week...and I guess it kinda clicked along the way. And it kinda clicked again recently, when I realized you wouldn‘t be a student anymore that I would have to hide to protect. My god, I‘m so completely and utterly in love with you. So much love shouldn‘t even be allowed. I‘ve never been so happy and so far away from all my bad thoughts. Thank you for being you, darling. I love you.“ He opened up his heart to you. Your face lit up, „I feel the same. So much lighter, less misplaced, like I have more purpose. I feel the way you make me grow, okay? I love the little soft and nerdy bits you show of yourself. Or the lovey dovey things like right now. I love all of it. I love YOU!“ He grabbed your face and gave you one of the softest kisses you shared until now. „Let‘s take this as a new beginning and actually start living now. No dumb second thoughts because of the educational system.“ He mumbled against your lips. „Yes, a new beginning.“ You smiled staring into his storm blue eyes. Maybe you‘d manage to graduate how you wanted to, get a good job, or maybe make money from that study account and those products, buy a house with him and have your little happy ever after. You looked forward to that. You finally looked forward to the future.

M a s t e r l i s t

[kittae]

Cardboard Castle | M

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Jungkook x female reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff, domestic, cat hybrid!AU

Words: 6.7k

Warnings : Rated M, graphic descriptions of sexual content, strong language, cat/human hybrid, switch!Jungkook, oral sex (male & female receiving), temperature play, overstimulation, edging, teasing, food play, unprotected sex

A/N: part of the Cat Hybrid!BTS Miniseries

Others: 

Yoongi

Taehyung

Jimin

“Damn it Jungkook, will you put it in already?!”

You watch your boyfriend fiddle around, a serious look on his face as his brows furrow in concentration. His fluffy ears fold back flat on his head while he exhales heavily after holding his breath for a long time.

“I’m trying! It’s too big!” He growls in defense to your snappy question.

“Then try harder! I swear to God if you get the wrong hole again–”

“Hold on a second woman, do you know how hard it is to try and fit this into something that small?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” you murmur quietly under your breath, “watch me end up having to do it by myself again.”

His hypersensitive ears, seeing how they perk right up as he snaps his head to the side to eye you spitefully, catch those words anyway. His lids squeeze to slits while his hand, still holding the thing, freeze mid-air as a low hiss slips from between his teeth.

“Are you telling me i suck at screwing? Is that what you’re saying, ___?”

“I’m just saying that this is not how i pictured it. You’re doing something wrong.”

“Can you– like, not?! I told you I don’t need those stupid instructions. I'm really good at this, just wait...” He grumbles irritably, still trying to jam the thing in by force.

You watch him mess around in silence for a little longer before you just can’t take it anymore.

“Do you need help holding it up?” You sigh in exasperation of his stubborn ass not getting anywhere this way.

Jungkook quickly dismisses your half-hearted offer to help with another hostile hiss, finally making you gasp in indignation.

“Stop hissing at me! It’s our first time doing this, don’t be a jerk!”

“Me?” your boyfriend scoffs wide-eyed, “I’m being a jerk?! You’ve been nothing but criticizing the whole time while i’m doing all the work!”

“You wouldn’t even let me touch it!”

“Because you don’t know how to handle it!”

That’s it. The final straw. If he doesn’t need you, he can just do it by himself.

“Well have fun handling it by yourself, then! I’m off.” You seethe as you stand up to grab your coat from the floor and wrap it around your shoulders.

Panic replaces the annoyance in his voice, his hand shooting up to cling onto the edge of your coat. “Where are you going?”

“For a walk.” Is your clipped response, being already slightly swayed by the sudden submissiveness and stars twinkling in his eyes trying to make you weak like they always manage to do. “And you better have that freaking bed up and made when i get back.”

You won’t lie, the look on his face does things to you and seeing it fall the second you pull the hem of your coat out of his hands kind of breaks your heart. Still, you’re just so pissed right now you really need to go out to clear your head and get some fresh air. Letting this escalate into a big fight when you’re just moving in together doesn’t seem like a great idea.

All in all, you’re not surprised. You know he’s trying his best, although you’d expected things to go south since your proud boy insisted on proving his ‘manliness’ despite knowing fuck all about Ikea furniture or carpentry. He’s so used to being good at everything he tries his hand on, you’d long seen his outbursts of frustration coming even before he’d grabbed the first screw. Not even Jeon Jungkook gets spared when it comes to the cursed furniture from hell. You’ve heard it being the reason for multiple breakups before and you’re not planning on letting the two of you become that kind of couple.

Still, the longer you think about it, the more you realize you might’ve been a little too harsh on him. Moving in together is a big step and stressful enough as it is. You’re probably not the only one feeling a little on edge lately.

As you walk past a convenience store, you find yourself lingering. Ten minutes later, the door jingles as you walk out of the store with a pack of banana milk, some beer and fried chicken. Counts for at least a nice attempt at making up for your coldness earlier, right? You might even stop by the grocery store to get some fresh lamb skewers, to surprise him with a small barbecue party on your new balcony later tonight.

“Kookie? Baby, I’m home.” You call from down the stairs as you kick your shoes off in the foyer.

As you sprint up the stairs, your boyfriend meets you halfway to greet you with a hug. His dark brown and soft tail instantly curls around your waist while he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, his purrs reverberating against your skin. He doesn’t like to say it with as many words, but he shows you how he regrets your earlier argument in his own way.

“I know, sweetie.” You clutch him against you, unable to suppress a smile when you hear the purring intensify. “Me too.”

You take his hand to lead him further up and away from the stairs to minimize the chances of accidents, but stop in front of your bedroom when you see something that wasn’t there before.

“Koo, you assembled the bed?! All by yourself? That’s amazing!” You squeal, pleasantly surprised and pulling him along as you run into the bedroom despite his stuttering protest.

“Wait! ___, I–”

You don’t wait to hear what he wants to say, throwing him on the bed and yourself on top of him. His eyes widen and he instantly glances down at the mattress, rendering you a little confused but you don’t think much of it when he heaves a relieved sigh. You giggle and lean down for a kiss, him already meeting you halfway when both of your ears register the cracking sound underneath you.

The bed collapses violently, all four legs giving out and the box holding the mattress with you on top of it slamming against the floor. The impact has you bouncing a little, shock written all over your faces as a few seconds of silence ensue.

“Woah,” You release a tense breath, ready to laugh it off when Jungkook crosses his arms over his face; a thing you know he does when he’s embarrassed or upset. “Oh– hey, what’s wrong?”

You watch his bottom lip tremble a little, almost unnoticeable but you know him too well to miss it. He shakes his head, trying to avert his face from your eyes. He doesn’t like you seeing him like this.

“Hey, talk to me,” You pout a little, gently prying his arms away from his face, “Baby, come on? What’s the matter?”

“I knew it,” he murmurs, a sad tone lacing his voice, “I knew I was doing it all wrong.”

You huff, playfully rolling your eyes in an attempt to get him to loosen up a little. “Who cares about the bed, Jungkook? You tried, right? Isn’t that the most important thing?”

“I disappointed you.” He wants to hide his face behind his arms again but you grab his wrists before he gets the chance, pinning them next to his head. He looks a little flushed as he keeps his head turned away from you, pout plastered on his handsome face. You don’t like that frown he’s sporting, so you kiss the spot between his eyebrows to make it go away.

“No you didn’t, silly. I was just pissed when I told you to make sure to put the bed up before I came back, I didn’t actually mean it.”

“I took it seriously.”

“I can see that.” You smile fondly. “You always take these things seriously, don’t you?”

“Only because I don’t want to disappoint you.” His blush deepens in color and he looks away again, getting shy underneath your intense staring.

How does he still make your heart stupidly flutter like this? It wants to make itself known, wants Jungkook to be aware of it with the way it beats so loud for him. Despite his ears being a little floppy, the tip of his tail betrays his growing contentment when you see it slightly flick left and right from the corner of your eye. You can’t keep a grin from going ear to ear before you peck a loud kiss on his pouty lips.

“C’mon, let’s go.” You pat his muscular thighs, something awakening between your own in doing so before you realise it but you ignore it in favor of more important matters: comforting your sulky boyfriend.

“Where to?” He asks, big ears perking up atop his head in curiosity.

“To the balcony!” You pick up the convenience store bags from the floor and hold them up ostentatiously.

.

.

Five lamb skewers, a large container of fried chicken and several beers later, you sit soaking up the last warm sun rays of the day on your small balcony. You’ve talked and laughed, diffusing the tension moving tends to bring with. A full stomach is a sure way to get your soft kitten guy to relax; instant contentment once you bring meat to the table. He’s happily sucking the banana milk through the tiny straw, still his favorite even though he’s started to take a liking to alcoholic beverages as well, lately. You remember the night you both went to a party and he somehow got his hands on milky banana-flavored liquor, which you had to hide from him all night long or he would’ve had a really rough morning after.

You chuckle to yourself at the memory, Jungkook yawning and stretching dramatically and letting his shirt ride up to pat his abs in satisfaction (you’d say tummy but it wouldn’t be fitting with the way the chiseled muscles are carved into his abdomen even after a full meal).

“Mmm, that was so good.” A lazy smile curls on his lips when he pecks a kiss on your cheek in appreciation of the surprise barbecue you’d prepared.

“I can feel a food coma coming in,” you yawn in turn, hand coming up to rub your sleepy feline behind one of his fluffy ears, “I could totally use a nap right now.”

“We have no bed, though…” Jungkook mumbles a tad bit guilty. You see him thinking and for a moment you’re scared he’ll feel bad all over again, when his face suddenly lights up. “I have an idea!”

You curiously watch him jump up, making a beeline for the unpacked moving boxes and starting to stack them on top of each other.

“What are you doing?” You laugh, following him and silently offering to help carry some boxes, which he refuses. He couldn’t assemble the bed by himself but he can do this, damnit.

Jungkook skillfully folds and unfolds the empty cardboard boxes in and on top of each other until a true construction comes together. It’s like a fort: the ones you’d make as a child with blankets and furniture. You catch on what he’s been trying to do and instantly search for the boxes with blankets and fairy lights (you bought them because you like a cozy balcony) to decorate it and make it that much more inviting.

“That’s cute.” He smiles, a soft expression on his face, watching you concentrate and draping the fairy lights over the cardboard boxes.

The small details really turn the boxes into a little cardboard castle and you can’t help but feel like a kid again. Excitement bubbles inside your chest and you’ve already forgotten about the small argument you’ve had earlier today.

“Ready to enter, m’lady?” He playfully bows and offers his hand, which you take all too theatrically as you attempt a shitty curtsy that almost has you tripping over your own feet, making you both burst out in childish laughter.

Sitting down, your backs rest against the ‘walls’ of the little hideaway in your new apartment as he pulls you into a close hug, squishing his cheek against yours and sighing happily. “Ahh, this is nice.”

“We’ve worked hard today, hm? I say we call it a day and just camp out in here.” You nuzzle your face in his neck, making your ticklish kitten squirm and giggle yet refuse to break the hug. His tail curls enthusiastically, brushing against your cheek in a subtle attempt to tickle you back.

“I second that.” He hums, a soft purr starting to reverberate through his body and reflecting the absence of stress for the first time in a while since the start of the whole moving process.

You suddenly remember another thing. “Oh! Wait, I forgot something!”

Jungkook looks up as you wriggle yourself out of his warm arms to crawl out of the fort, a little confused when you don’t elaborate on that.

“What is it?” He yells from behind cardboard walls.

You come back with two ice-cold popsicles you’ve stored in your little portable freezer after your trip to the convenience store, big grin on your lips as you hold them up.

“Melon or strawberry?”

There’s actually no need for asking, knowing exactly which one he prefers and proven right when his hand shoots up to claim the pink one. He also knows you like melon flavor the best anyway. Getting back into your previous embrace and making yourselves comfortable between the many pillows and underneath the blankets you’ve provided, you set up your laptop to watch a movie on Netflix.

“You really feel comfortable now, don’t you?” You ask sweetly, caressing his jaw with your fingers and hearing the purring intensify.

“Yeah, I dunno...Something about cardboard boxes just really makes me feel at ease,” he mumbles, eyes closed while basking in your affection, contentment written all over his face. “Makes me feel safe.”

Right, cats do love their boxes. You forgot about that little fact. It explains why he came up with the idea when he felt distressed; he probably needed a place to hide from the stress and responsibilities of all this grown up adult stuff. Even if it’s just a symbolic hideout. He’s been trying so hard to conceal the feline part of him, wanting to prove he could be a proper partner. One you could count on. He loves being taken care of since it’s practically engraved in his genes, but he’s been taking more care of you lately. You start feeling a bit bad, having grown too comfortable with how responsible he’s been that you’d forgotten your own responsibilities towards him.

“I’m really proud of you, you know?” You tell him. “You’ve been doing so much and doing everything so well.”

“Not everything.” He stubbornly refers to the bed blunder, starting to sulk a bit again as he suckles on his strawberry popsicle.

You quickly decide to just change the subject. “Hey, let me try yours.”

Jungkook offers you the pink frozen stick as he watches you lean over to close your lips around the sticky syrup. He swears he didn’t mean to place the thing right above his crotch but once he realizes, it’s too late and a furious blush instantly spreads across his cheeks. The moment is gone before he can properly process the onslaught of unholy images attacking his mind when you sit back up, satisfied before popping your own green refreshment back in your mouth.

“Still like melon better.” You shrug and direct your attention back towards the movie, oblivious to the way your boyfriend’s fuzzy ears are perked right up in complete focus and the darkness that cloaks his otherwise gentle gaze.

He licks his lips as he diligently watches yours, slick with spit and sweet syrup as they work around the popsicle. His eyelids feel heavy and his throat dry when he asks if he can get a taste of your flavor too.

“Sure!” You hand him your chilled melon bar but get caught off guard when his lips find your own instead of the green stick.

A low hum trickles off his tongue when he slips it past your lips to savor the sweet melon taste mingled with the familiarity of you as he pulls you closer until you’re practically in his lap.

You’re near having a whiplash with the way he switched from a sulky baby hiding in his carton fort to, well, this. Silently wondering what triggered this sudden change in attitude, you still revel in the way he hungrily searches to taste more of you when sharp canines dare to sting your bottom lip once in a while. He’s careful but insistent, quite literally stealing your breath away as he doesn’t allow much room for you to gasp for air, or have any thoughts for that matter.  

“What’s gotten into you?” You lightly chuckle when you have a spare moment to catch your breath, holding off your over enthusiastic boyfriend’s incessant kisses by pushing him back at his chest, instantly making him whine.

“Nothing... just,” He blushes, the glow on his skin apparent even in the dark, face lit by only the weak luminescence of the small laptop screen, “In the mood, I guess.”

“Hmm?” You grin, fingers playing with the collar of his shirt, “Is my baby getting a little needy?”

He knows you’re teasing him but still lets himself get more worked up as his blush deepens and he looks away, grumbling. “I’m not a baby.”

“But you’re so needy,” you keep pushing his buttons, loving how quickly you get the desired effect, “Like a good kitten.”

You feel something harden underneath your thighs where you’re sitting on his lap, the bulge in his jeans gradually growing despite his scowling face and ears flat on his head.

“Don’t call me that,” he hisses half-heartedly, but can’t keep the vibrations inside his chest from being audible as he starts purring heavily, enhancing the sound of his irregular breathing.

You shrug, bringing your popsicle back to your lips and making sure to be loud as you slurp extra hard at the melting sugar water, looking at him from underneath your lashes. He gulps, eyes slightly widening while still trained on how your lips move, ears perking up to catch every sound they make.

“You’re evil,” he whispers lowly, fingers digging into your hips and lips latching onto your jaw.

“Your popsicle is melting,” you gasp as he starts sucking a hickey into your neck, your fingers now gripping around the fabric of his collar. You can try and play with him only for so long before you get equally as affected by his neediness.

You expect a bratty response or an impatient wine at the very least, but certainly not the sudden icy sensation that catches you off guard and covers your skin in goosebumps when he smears the cold liquid all over your throat. You wince, ready to scold your bully of a boyfriend when his hot and rough tongue comes to glide over the cold trail of stickiness the popsicle left behind. A moan escapes your lips before you know it, a hand moving up to tangle itself through the strands of his dark hair and enticing Jungkook to repeat the action. The frozen stick is less surprising the second time it touches your skin, though it still causes a shivering shock to shoot through your nervous system and straight down to your core where you clench your thighs on reflex.

“W-what are you doing?” You have a tough time keeping your breathing under control with the way he’s lapping at your neck and throat, clearing your skin of every trace of tacky strawberry syrup.

His mischievous chuckle reverberates against your neck. “Getting the most out of my popsicle.”

He moves the frozen bar down the cleavage of your shirt, your nipples responding instantly by perking up and showing themselves through the fabric. You suck air through your teeth and Jungkook raises an eyebrow, a smirk plastered on his awfully smug face.

“If the girls say hi, I should greet them back, right?” His grin widens and he looks like the cat that got the cream. Literally.

“Shut up, they’re just being polite.” You grumble, but let him unbutton your shirt with one hand anyway while he continues to coat your skin in the sugary liquid as he kisses his way down the trail.

Your cheeks heat up when he slides the straps of your bra down your arms before pulling the cups down and exposing your bare breasts to the air. Jungkook looks absolutely mesmerized by the view, jaw going slack as he forgets to close his mouth while he concentrates on painting along the swell of your mounds with the ice cold popsicle. Seeing your skin glisten with the sticky fluid, he can’t seem to control his urges much longer. He buries his face between them, his raspy albeit slick tongue hot as it chases after the strawberry flavor.

You drop your head back, reveling in the smooth and pleasant ministrations being inflicted upon your sensitive breasts when he suddenly moves the popsicle to a nipple. He circles it around the little nub, devoting equally as much attention to both sides. A pleasant numbness buzzes through your perky buds and your whole body responds to the extreme temperature by having you soak your panties through with abundant arousal. The heat of his mouth is both welcome and intrusive, the slightly sandpapery texture of his tongue making you arch your back and push your chest closer to his face.

Jungkook is in his own world, lips around a nipple as he sucks, licks and nibbles like he never wants to stop. While nursing one breast with his mouth, his hand stimulates the other with the popsicle; giving you hot and cold at the same time, switching regularly.

You can’t describe how good it makes you feel, yet it’s not enough. You grow impatient, frustrated with how you don’t want him to stop but also need him elsewhere.

“You do realize you’re making it melt faster this way?” You try to get his attention by pulling on his left ear, although your voice is much softer than you’d intended it to sound as it borders on a happy sigh.

“Mmm,” He hums, distracted and purring heavily, looking content to spend the rest of his life glued to your boobs.

You shift your hips a little until you’re properly mounting him, rolling them into his suggestively. “Kookie…”

He momentarily detaches himself from your nipple to gasp softly when he feels the added pressure on his hard dick underneath his jeans.

“But I’m not done yet…” He pouts, gazing at your chest longingly.

“Your popsicle is almost gone anyway.”

He hesitates for a moment, then sits up abruptly before he flips you around and on your back in a swift motion. “Better hurry then.”

“Wait, wha–” You sputter as he hikes up your skirt and pulls your panties to the side, barely giving you time to process what’s happening when he presses what’s left of the popsicle against your clit without any warning. “Jungkook!”

The iciness on your sensitive bundle of nerves makes you want to close your thighs and ban the frozen object from your hot center, but Jungkook is faster. His lips close around your little nub, tongue pressing up and simultaneously sucking hard. You’re nothing but putty in his hands as you throw yourself back and reach for the nearest pillow to bury your cries and teeth in. He does the same he did to your nipples, but it affects you a thousand times more. Hot, freezing, hot, freezing. You’ve never felt a more strange sensation than this numbness paired with oversensitivity.

When his tongue swirls around your clit, it feels too hot and you’re on fire. When the popsicle touches your most sensitive spots, you shiver and get goosebumps all over. He alters between the two so effortlessly, you’re struggling to differentiate the one from the other after a short while. For all you know, he’s doing both at the same time. All in all, you don’t care about what he does as long as he doesn’t stop. Jungkook purrs continuously, adding mild vibrations to the mix as he diligently eats you out. Your body is confused and you find yourself more and more unable to tamper your moans to a less dramatic volume as tears start to pour out of the corners of your eyes. The pillow is your best friend in this moment; letting you bite, drool, cry and dig your nails into the soft fabric. Your breathing turns erratic when your abdomen tightens in preparation of what you’re sure to be an explosive orgasm. The onslaught of sensations proving to be too much for you as you start to tense up.

“K- Kook, I’m gonna- gonna come!” You whimper helplessly as you start letting go, your fingers having found refuge around his big and soft ears, thumbs rubbing up and down on the inside in a subconscious attempt to calm yourself.

Jungkook shivers at the feeling, the inside of his ears a very sensitive and erogenous zone that you keep stimulating without really realizing it. It only serves as extra motivation to get you there as good and fast as he can, amping up the intensity of his ministrations. Sweetness fills his mouth and he moans, strawberry flavor mixed with the familiar taste of your juices generously flowing onto his tongue.

One more suck around your swollen nub pressed against his trembling tongue was all it took to get you falling apart with a cry of his name. Your body curls off the floor, thighs squeezing around your cat boy’s head and his face snug against your pulsating pussy as he laps up the nectar you spill with great enthusiasm.

Feeling spent, you deflate when you finally find time to catch your breath and comfort in the way his soft hair and ears caress the skin of your hand where it’s still tangled in between. You shiver, Jungkook still lazily kissing your hot center with his eyes closed, hands absentmindedly stroking the inside of your thighs. Gently pushing at his head, you maneuver him away from your poor clit that’s burning with oversensitivity. He whines when you close your thighs, taking away his ravishing view on your deliciously swollen lips, slick with his spit and your cum.

“Why are you whining?” You laugh lightheartedly, kissing his lips because you miss them already. Your heart’s full, your cheeks hot, the tenderness between your legs still very present even when the fire Jungkook’s ignited in your chest still hasn’t died. You’re not done, want more of him.

When you move to touch him with your other hand, you finally realize it’s still occupied. Your fingers are sticky with the melted sugar water, but the popsicle still survived for a big part.  

“Ah...what do I do with this?” You sigh and start licking your fingers to get them to stick together less when Jungkook clears his throat.

“Do you… I kind of want to try it, too.” He admits, one brow raised and teeth digging into his bottom lip in a playful smirk. “Yours hasn’t melted that much yet.”

“You’re just full of ideas today, aren’t you?”

“Good ideas, yes.” He corrects, giggling way too cutely as he sits back and gets comfortable between the pillows, pulling you on top of him.

“You’re awfully excited to get your dick frozen off,” you grin, your free hand moving to undo his jeans, “I thought cats hated being cold?”

Jungkook laughs, pushing his pants down and pulling his shirt over his head so only his tight black boxer briefs are left, stretching out around his thick thighs. “There’s a few exceptions.”

“How convenient!” You feign surprise, your heart fluttering in your chest at the comfortable playfulness of it all when you go to straddle him, knees on either side of his hips as you perch yourself right atop his rock hard bulge. Even though you’ve only been in this house for a few hours, being with him just makes you feel right at home.

“Mmm, isn’t it?” He smiles as he leans in for another kiss and you’re tempted to let him steal one, but you have some sweet revenge up your sleeve, first.

He yelps when the icy popsicle unexpectedly presses against one of his nipples, his body tensing up in surprise and making you laugh in satisfaction.

You just raise your eyebrows at his scowl, wordlessly coating his chest and abs in the cold liquid and watching him flinch and hiss each time the tip of the popsicle touches a particularly sensitive area.

“You sure you’re ready for this down there?” You ask, emphasizing where exactly you mean ‘downstairs’ by wiggling your hips a bit, letting the curve of his erection sit cushy between your soft lower lips, hot and comfortable through the fabric of his underwear.

Jungkook groans for a moment, breath hitching in his throat when he feels his boxers dampen where your plush pussy envelops his cock in your warmth as you start getting wet again. The prospect of having an icicle pressed against his thin and sensitive skin instead suddenly looks a whole lot less tempting now.

Still, he gets it together again by gripping your hips and allowing himself a nice roll into your heat, however shallow it is with his underwear in the way. He smirks that annoying smirk you hate because you find it so fucking hot when he does that, cockiness all over his face and you brace yourself because it usually means he’s going to say something infuriating.

You’re not wrong.

“Can’t wait for your hot mouth to warm me up again when your popsicle melts and you need something else to suck,” he whispers in your ear before pecking a terribly misplaced chaste kiss on your neck, all words uttered tauntingly without missing a beat. The contrast with the sulky kitten on the verge of crying because he couldn’t stand the thought of upsetting or disappointing you couldn’t be more stark and confusing.

He knows how to catch you off guard, letting you have all the power but then running his mouth and teasing you, getting you embarrassed and needy and hot for him when you were supposed to be in charge here.

“Yeah?” you get ready to play your last card in an attempt to regain some control, “You want my mouth?”

“Need your mouth, baby,” he nods, smiling against your lips when he kisses you.

“Okay, kitten,” you push him further back into the pillows until he’s on his back. “Just lay back for me, yeah?”

The purrs reverberating through his body are so intense you could feel them vibrate all over his body as you kiss down his neck. You take your sweet time making your way south, lips nipping at his nipples where you’ve previously made them hard with your icy melon bar. The taste mingles with his natural scent, a tinge of salt joining the mix when he starts sweating in anticipation of what your tongue’s going to do next.

It’s his mistake, really, not anticipating your pettiness as you go agonizingly slow. You trace the shape of every single ab, ice melting in beautiful rectangles before you lap up the syrup with your tongue. He’s getting frustrated quickly, his tail whipping back and forth impatiently.

“Babe,” your boyfriend hisses through gritted teeth when your own leave gentle love bites on his skin, “can you stop teasing, please?”

“Mmm,” you hum vaguely, ignoring him as your tongue dips shallowly underneath the elastic waistband of his boxers.

“I’m serious,” he whines, “I’m so hard it hurts…”

You smirk at having successfully wiped that smug expression off that damned handsome face of his. He seems to remember who’s in charge now.

“aw, poor thing,” your hand comes up flat against his raging hard-on, stroking him above his underwear, “want me to make it better?”

“Yes, yes… love you...Please make it hurt less,” he mutters softly, a sheen of desperation adorning his already way too fucked out expression and his hand gently petting your hair to appease you, get back in your favor. You can’t say it’s not working.

“Alright, baby. Because you’re being so good, okay?”

He visibly cringes, but still greedily absorbs your praise to the point he’s staining the black fabric of his boxer briefs with precum. The contradictions in this boy never failing to amaze you. You finally hook your fingers underneath the waistband to pull them down his legs, revealing his throbbing cock already slick with precum and heavy balls begging to be relieved of the aching pressure that’s been building up since the second he watched you curl your lips around that damn popsicle.

“Fuck, fuck, please,” he whimpers, hips bucking up in agony.

When something’s swollen, isn’t icing it the best way to decompress again?

You don’t hesitate when you lay the popsicle perpendicular against his straight, tall erection and you have to stifle your laugh because of two reasons: the way the popsicle is significantly smaller than his dick (but let’s take the fact it’s already half melted into account shall we) and the sound he makes when he basically shrinks himself like a shrimp the second the ice cold bar touches his length. You see the regret in his eyes already but a wicked gleam twinkles in yours when you slide the popsicle further down and against his red and straining balls.

“Holy SHIT!” he yelps, starting to maneuver himself away from the freezing torture device but you’ve got him this time, just like he got you earlier. You inwardly roll your eyes at how he’s overreacting like this when he’s done the exact same thing to you.

You pin him down by his hip with your free hand, showing him you mean business when your other hand splints the popsicle against his shaft again. He starts whining, then suddenly gasps when your mouth envelops both.

The heat of your mouth with the cold of the melon bar feels so fantastic, he momentarily forgets how to breathe.

“F-fuck, ___,” he stutters between erratic breaths, hands instantly burying themselves into your hair, “Baby, k-keep go-going!”

The moans you manage to coax out of him already sound like music in your ears. You love it when he gets vocal like this. Wanting to hear more, you sink down lower, taking in more as you relax your throat and let two shafts enter. You have to swallow a lot, the rapidly melting popsicle having melon sugar water glide down your throat in a mix with Jungkook’s slightly salty precum. It might not be the most convenient blowjob you’ve ever given, but it’s definitely the most delicious one.

Humming contently as you enjoy sucking his melon flavored cock in combination with the exuberant swallowing around his head, Jungkook is positively starting to lose his fucking mind. He doesn’t even realize it when his body acts on itself as his hips start snapping up to meet the bobbing of your head, the grip on your hair tightening when he speeds up and has you taking more than you initially thought you could handle.

“Fuck, babe! B-babe I’m gonna c-come, gonna come so s-soon!”

The frozen melon bar repeatedly hits the palate of your mouth, scraping against your tongue as you try your best not to choke on both his dick and the popsicle all the same. A strange buzzing starts to rise in your forehead, going from mildly annoying to kind of painful and you tap out on his thigh with your hand.

The tapping seems to bring him out of his trance just enough to release you so you let go of his dick and especially the popsicle as fast as you’re able to. Jungkook looks absolutely miserable and confused as to why you suddenly let him go when he was this close to reaching his orgasm. Did he do something wrong? Was he too rough on you?

“Ugh! Brainfreeze!” You cringe, squeezing your eyes shut and pressing a palm to your head.

Jungkook bursts out laughing, shoulders shaking and head thrown back in pure amusement as he momentarily forgets he’s been unintentionally edged and left with blue balls.

“Hey! It’s your fault, you jerk!” You feel your cheeks burning but can’t help laughter from bubbling up your throat as well, so you slap his arm for good measure.

“I think you- you’re the first person ever who can say you got- got brain freeze from sucking dick!” He wheezes, wiping away his tears before a new wave of laughter erupts from his chest.

“Listen, do you still want to come or what?” You ask, a bit more serious now.

He needs a few seconds longer to let the laughing fit die out, and then he still has trouble containing that stupid grin. “Of course I do, babe… I’m still hard as a rock.”

“Good, so–”

“But I need you on my cock right now.” And your annoyingly smug slash hot feline is back. “We don’t want another brainfreeze situation, yeah?”

“I swear to god if you’re gonna keep bringing this up–” You start but get shut up by his lips on yours, all serious need again. This boy switches moods like it’s nothing.

Jungkook pulls you on top of him, wasting little time positioning you in his lap and guiding the red and swollen head of his cock to your entrance. You’re wet, that’s an understatement. Before the brain freeze intermezzo you were really getting yourself going with how good he tasted, your favorite popsicle flavor mixed with his natural taste. You were even looking forward to swallowing melon flavored cum, if you’re being completely honest. You’ll never tell him that, though.

He slides in with ease, the slight stretch you always get when you take him feeling more like a welcome fullness. A relieved moan slips from your lips and Jungkook rushes to catch it with his own again, tasting your sounds on his tongue as he starts moving slowly.

“So hot and tight,” he groans, body quivering in satisfaction by getting the snug fit and blazing heat he’s been longing for, “Not gonna l-last long.”

His dick is still a little bit frigid at first, a funny feeling having him inside you like this. Though your body temperature quickly heats him up, you feel it rising within yourself as well. You just feel so wonderfully full, your earlier orgasm having made you more vulnerable for a second one, feeling it approaching as well.

“M-me too, Koo,” heavy breaths leave your lungs frantically when you pick up speed together, hips snapping up and slamming down to meet each other in a cacophony of skin slapping against skin, wet sounds and lewd noises.

The pitch of his voice gets noticeably higher, fluffy ears trembling in sensitivity when he buries his head into your chest and his cock into your cunt as deep as he’s physically capable of before he blows his load inside of you with a strangled moan. The feeling of hot seed splashing against your inner walls makes something snap and you tense when your second orgasm washes over you like a heatwave, intense pleasure mixing with much needed relief. Your muscles relax and you fall limp against your spent boyfriend’s chest, surrounded by pillows and blankets.

You catch your breath in a warm embrace, Jungkook pulling one of the blankets over your naked, sweaty bodies. He looks so pretty, skin glistening with a sheen of sweat and illuminated by the warm little fairy lights framing your cardboard castle.

“I really feel like a king now,” he chuckles lightly, pecking a loving kiss on the crest of your head.

You’re already getting a little sleepy, but smile at his words. “How so?”

“In my castle with my queen.”

“Damn right I am,” you grin, nestling yourself further into his arms.

“This was infinitely better than trying to put up that bed,” he states.

“Definitely,” you murmur sleepily, “Who needs a bed anyways?”

[rueren]

★ 𝓢 𝓣𝓐 𝓡 𝓓 𝓤 𝓢 𝓣★

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 1

Word Count: 6k

CW: swearing, slight angst

𝒦 𝐸 𝐼 𝒯 𝐻

Saturday August 31, 7:07 am

***

He woke up drenched in warm sunlight.

Wait, no.  Cold sunlight.  Cold sunlight? No, that's not right. Cold, artificial, too bright to be natural light.  

The clicking of a light switch rang throughout the room.  His eyelids turned orange, the fluorescent light source directly behind them. Click. Click. Click.  

He pulled the sheets closer to his chin, mumbling sentences that didn’t even make sense to himself.  He’d just ignore the flickering lights - and the person flicking them - until they left Keith alone and let him sleep in peace.  He hoped.

 Then the sheets started to shift, being pulled slightly off of his leg.

“Ugh, okay, fine, I’m up now.” He grumbled into his pillow, “What do you want from me.”   

This was the same thing Shiro had done the whole week. And well basically their whole life.  Randomly waking him up at such an ungodly hour by flicking the lights on and off.  Kicking his foot just enough to annoy him into consciousness.  

The room was occupied by boxes.  Towers of them.  Maybe not towers.  Mounds? There were like, five boxes to unpack.  Maybe seven.  He’d be done in two hours, three tops.  He’d been putting it off for a week, sure.  But he’d do it today.  Today, but not now.  Later.  Not at seven o’clock in the fucking morning.  

“I don’t want anything.  I need you to get up, and unpack.  We’ve been here for almost a week and you haven’t touched your boxes, and classes start after tomorrow.” Shiro said, finally pulling the sheets off the mattress.  

His body blocked the sun coming from the glass wall across the room, and when he moved away with the sheet, the cold air in the apartment from the AC washed over his legs.  Shiro stepped over him, with hair still dripping wet, and sat on the other side of Keith’s mattress on the floor. They’d bought basic bed frames back home, and Krolia said she would ship it to them, but they hadn’t come in yet, so he’d had to make due.

“It’s seven am, Takashi.  On a Saturday. I don’t have time for your shit,” Keith grumbled, curling in on himself, “And besides, I have opened them.” A truth.  Not a whole truth, but that still counted, right?

“Opening one box to take out like two shirts since we got here doesn’t count Keith.” Shiro reprimanded, and Keith didn’t need to open his eyes to hear the smirk in his voice.

“Okay, I’ll do it.  But I’ll do it later, ‘cause its seven fucking am Shiro, not everyone is as excited about the crack of dawn as you.” He finally opened his eyes, glaring at Shiro with still sleep-heavy lids.

Shiro laughed at that, water droplets falling onto Keiths face, “It’s not my fault you like to sleep away your entire existence,” He kicked at Keith’s shin as he got up, with Keith expecting the bed to dip back with the lack of weight but then it doesn't and he remembers he doesn't even have a bed frame so it isn't going to dip, because their stupid IKEA beds hadn’t come in yet.  Good for nothing shipping companies, never being on time, “I’m coming back to get you in ten minutes.  With a glass of water.  Cold.” 

“You wouldn’t.” Keith half sat up, propped on his elbow, facing him.

“Guess we’ll find out in ten minutes.”

He closed the door before Keith could get out a retort, and Keith just groaned, flopping in his bed.  

Shiro’s laugh behind the door sounds fainter as the receding sound of feet against floorboards crept out of earshot.

 He might as well get up now, he supposed.  He was fully awake anyway.  And Shiro pouring a cup of water on him if he fell asleep again wasn’t as appealing as it sounded. 

He stretched out his limbs, and made his way out of bed.  An incoherent string of insults fell from his lips as he reached to grab a shirt out of the box.  He stared at it for a bit, going back on what Shiro said about only opening the box to grab a shirt.  Stupid Shiro for always being right, it’s not even natural.  He tossed back the shirt and grabbed a pair of sweatpants instead, because if Shiro gets to wake him up, he doesn't have the power to make him get dressed.  Neither is he going to give him the satisfaction of being right about something else.  Again.

The floor  of his room was freezing under his feet, despite the August weather.  It sent shivers up his legs to his shoulders as he walked into the hallway of the new apartment.  It was still new to him. He made a move to go to the bathroom, out in the hallway.  Then realized that it wasn’t home.  Well it was, but not home. He doubled back and went into his bathroom, connected to his room. 

 He wasn’t used to the layout of the place, not like he was back home. Back home he could walk around with his eyes closed.  He wasn’t bothered though.  He’d just have to make due.

The bathroom floor was no different.  Cold under his feet, if not colder.  Keith grumbled under his breath, glancing at the door as Shiro stuck his head in.  “You’re like a wet dog, dripping everywhere.” He didn’t wait to hear Shiro’s response, closing the door on his face. Metal on wood was heard outside the door, prosthetic clanging against the door, followed by more receding footsteps. 

Keith dragged a hand across his face, staring at his reflection.  He’d spent the night tossing and turning, never comfortable, and now his hair paid the price.  He knew he should have tied it, but he was too tired to care.  Future Keith’s problem, he’d thought.  Well, Present Keith was ticked at Past Keith.  Also at Present Shiro for waking him up at seven am on a fucking Saturday. All this being-pissed-off was not helping his bed head, and he sighed as he tried to finger comb his hair, not to literally rip the hair out of his follicles. 

Hair brushed and mouth not tasting gross anymore, he trudged out to the kitchen.  The apartment wasn’t the biggest, but it certainly was bigger than most. 

The living room was big, with a glass wall, and a balcony behind a sliding glass door.  There was a door in Keiths room that connected to the balcony too.  Shiro didn’t even fight Keith when he promptly flung his bag on the floor the second he found out that room had the balcony - he knew Keith would’ve fought him for it. And Shiro didn’t mind that much either. Although they weren’t that high up, it was only the tenth floor, Shiro wasn’t too fond of heights.  So a smaller window instead of a glass door reminding him just how high up they were was all he could ask for.

When they first made their way up to the apartment, he thanked whatever celestial beings he could think of for this place to have two bathrooms.   He’d shared one with Shiro back home, and saying it was a nightmare was an understatement. Using all the hot water after a run, taking too long to make that tuft of white hair just right.  It was too much for Keith to process.  It looked like he just left it there when he finished anyways, so why did it always take twenty minutes.  

And the space.  Their bathroom back home was the smallest bathroom you could imagine. Shower and tub together, the sink crammed right next to it and a toilet across.  They’d had to install and uninstall a lock on the door more times than he could remember, for one reason or another.  

This one was different. Spacious.  A full bath and shower.  A long mirror.  Tiled shower walls.  Gray and white aesthetic, the lights being a little bit too bright, but he didn’t mind.  Helps him wake up when he needs to.

The only thing wrong with this bathroom was the floor to ceiling glass wall.  Who in their right mind would ever think that that was okay.  He thought back to when Krolia had told them about the place 

The bedrooms were situated on either side of the bathroom .  Keith's first then Shiro’s .  And since they were at the end of the hall in the complex, they’d gotten a corner apartment.  

They had a pretty decent kitchen as well, with an island and barstool chairs and everything.  

Well, there would be barstools around the island, and an actual dishwasher in the spot by the edge of the counter, and an actual stove, if the shipping company got their shit together and sent their furniture.  The apartment had been eerily empty with just mattresses in each room, and the living room stacked with boxes instead of actual furniture. 

He sat himself on a box, one that was not labeled fragile.  His head slumped forward, hair falling down his face, tickling the exposed skin on his back..  He was not looking forward to Shiro telling him to open his boxes again after today, so he’d have to get it done.  And besides, the semester started the day after tomorrow. He’d have to do it anyway.

“He got you too?” A voice, rough with sleep, said from behind him. He smirked, as he heard the sleep driven shuffle of slippers on the hardwood floor.

“Yeah. Got you too it seems.” Keith said, finally looking up.  Adam looked over at him with sleep heavy eyes.

“Why is he so hellbent on waking up before the sun every single morning?” Adam sighed, grabbing the box of Eggo waffles from the freezer.  He held it up and Keith held up two fingers.  Adam took out four and put them in the four slot toaster.  A gift from Krolia before they left. 

“I just know you boys are going to fight over who gets breakfast first.  Here, take it.” 

“Krolia, we don’t need this.  Keep it-”

“Hush.  Take it.  I will not have you two fighting over who gets to toast a stupid piece of bread every day the whole way through college,” Krolia sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, “Ugh, just thinking about it gives me a headache.  Take it, Shiro, or so help me god-”

“Okay, okay, we’ll take the toaster.  Thank you.”

He’d slept over the night before to help Shiro unpack.  Well, that’s what he’d said he was over for.  All three of them knew he was here to be with Shiro.  Long distance relationships were always hard, and Shiro and Adam were no exception.  They’d been dating since high school, senior year, so that had been - 5 years?  

There had been a break up halfway through, though.  Keith didn’t even know something could be mutual but also not until this break.  They’d both agreed on it, but only for the sake of the other, the whole time complaining to Keith.  Adam called him to wallow in his misery, sentences consisting of “Ugh, I miss him so much, Keith.” and “Why would I even say that we should take a break?” and  “I’m so stupid.  Keith, does he even talk about me?”.  

Shiro talked about it less frequently to Keith, but when he did, he did so more insistently.  “Keith, I know he calls you.  Does he say anything about me?  Please, tell me he does.  Ugh, why did we even think a break was a good idea?” 

Both of them thought the other had wanted it.  Wanted time to focus on themselves.  Both of them being stupidly wrong.  Both of them thinking a break would be best because of stress and long distance and whatever else made them take a break.  Neither of them really wanted it, but only did it because they thought the other needed it.  And they would do anything for each other. 

It was sweet, Keith thought then.  Sweet but stupid.  Make yourself hurt for what you thought the person you loved wanted.  Sweet but stupid.

Adam had flown out to see Shiro, a month and a half  into the break, because Shiro had drunk called him.  That was enough to break him.  He booked a flight to LA, from Chicago, and only told Keith that he was in the city, once he landed.  Krolia had driven down to pick him from the airport.  Keith was in charge of  keeping Shiro preoccupied until Adam got to the house.  

Adam came into the house the moment Shiro started complaining about the break again.  And when Adam had heard Shiro say he hated the break, never wanted it to begin with, only agreed to it because Adam wanted it, he stepped out from where he stood in the foreir. 

“I never wanted it, you dipshit.”  Adam said, and Shiro froze in place.   He turned around slowly, and Keith found himself smiling, watching it unfold in front of him.  Shiros face falling, then he smiled, the brightest he’d ever seen Shiro smile. 

Then he started tearing up.  That’s when Adam moved across the living room.  Turned to Shiro, strides across the floor purposeful, and filled with love and emotion, as if that were even possible.  Steps filled with the distance between them and the longing they both had for each other and the love they had for each other that was projected in the way they looked at each other.

“I missed you.” Shiro’s voice cracked.

“I missed you too,” Adam said, his hands coming around Shiro’s wrists, “ God, I missed you. So much.” 

And when he said that, Shiro broke.  They both broke, and hugged and cried and laughed and fell to their knees with their heads pressed to the others shoulder and Keith felt tight in the chest as Krolia placed a hand on his shoulder, a small smile gracing her face as well.  And they both left, feeling like they were invading a private moment. 

“Well, he’s your boyfriend, and he never did that before you,” Keith smirked, “So I say it’s your own fault.”  

“Yeah, well, that was before I figured out how much of a blessing sleep was when you're a college student.” He grumbled before downing the glass of water he poured for himself. 

He looked worse than Keith, with his hair - which had grown last since Keith had seen him, another thing that made Keith remember he was away from the people he was close to for far too long - was disheveled, flat against one side from sleep.  He hadn’t even put his glasses on and the bags under his eyes were more visible.  His shirt, a soft dark gray with NASA across the front in a fading font, from how old it was, a few sizes too big, considering it was Shiro’s.  Pajamas bottoms too long for his legs, scrunched up against his Bart Simpson slipper, the red and blue and black stripes making the yellow of Bart’s face way too bright.

Adam yawned as he started a pot of coffee.  As tired as Adam looked, it reminded Keith of where he was.  With the people he cared about. Not talking to them through a screen that pixelated their faces because of sketchy college dorm WIFI.  He had seen Pidge and Matt the first day they got into Chicago, and he’d felt better.  Hugged them and forced himself not to tear up, because they would never let him hear the end of it.  He was happy.  For the first time in a long while.

“Good, you’re both up.” Shiro’s voice entered the kitchen. They both looked over at him, and gaped at how awake he looked.  

Well, Keith did. Adam was probably gaping for different reasons, that Keith did not want to think about his brother in.  

He had on a tank top - way too tight, for no reason, other than that his boyfriend was here - dark gray sweatpants, and an honest to god neon pink and black striped headband in his hair, a stark contrast to the white bangs that it held from his face.

“No thanks to you,” Keith grumbled.  The toaster popped up and Keith reluctantly stomped over to it, throwing them on a plate and taking the syrup Adam handed to him absentmindedly, drenching his waffles.

Shiro sat on the floor - because they had no furniture - cross legged, against the box Keith was sitting on before.  “How do you guys eat that stuff? It's just sugar.”

“Some of us like sugar, Shiro,” Adam quipped, hopping up on the island to sit and wait for his coffee, “Just like how some of us actually enjoy letting the sun get up before we do.”

Shiro laughed, “I went out for a run. I let you guys sleep for another 2 hours after I got up.”

“How did you guys even come from the same house?’ Adam directed at Keith, around a piece of waffle, as he stuffed a piece of his own waffle into his mouth.

“How are you guys even dating? '' He countered, voice monotone, but his chest tightened slightly in happiness.  He liked how happy Shiro got around Adam.  He deserved to be happy after everything that’s happened to them.

Not that he’d say that aloud.  He’d never hear the end of it.

“He’s lucky he’s cute,” Adam said, grabbing 3 mugs from the cupboard, pouring their coffee, and Shiro’s cheeks went pink. Keith made a show of visibly gagging, and Adam flipped him off.

It still amazed Keith, how even after dating for so long, his brother still got flustered over the smallest of compliments.

“Yeah, whatever.  Go sleep the rest of your youth away. I don’t care.” Shiro teased, and Adam handed him his mug of coffee.  He kissed Shiro’s head, and Shiro’s face went redder as he smiled. 

They all sat around for a bit, Adam beside Shiro on the floor and Keith on the island, eating waffles drinking coffee, and talking about school starting and Adam’s new job, and Shiro’s new classes, as well as Keith starting classes as well.

 Keith missed this.  The familiarity of it all.  He missed it.

“‘Kay, as much as I love talking with you both about school at seven in the morning on  Saturday, I need to take a shower.” Adam got up from the floor, cracking his back, “When is your furniture supposed to come in?”

“It was supposed to come in two days ago.  They said it’d be another like, 3 days at most.” Shiro said, getting up too, and putting both their mugs in the sink.

“Okay, yeah.  Well, off to shower I guess.”  And he left down the hall. Shiro and Keith talked a bit more while he showered, about Krolia saying she was going to visit in a few weeks, about Matt and his new girlfriend, and when their schedules had open spots at the same time.

“Alright.  I need to go get some WIFI and whatever,” Keith said, dropping his plate in the sink, as Adam turned off the shower, “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

“You have to finish unpacking today,” Shiro said, as he walked off to his room, to change.

“Yeah, I’ve got the rest of the day.  It’ll be unpacked don’t worry.” 

“Alright,” Shiro said, as Keith closed the door to his bedroom.   Keith chuckled at Shiro’s voice muffled behind the door as he said, “How do I always get stuck on dish duty?”

He changed into a black t-shirt and ripped black jeans, although half of the cuts he’d done himself. Rummaging around in the one box he’d opened  when they first got here, he fished out a blue shirt, and groaned, tossing it over onto the mattress .  The next thing he grabbed was a flannel.  Basic, but it would make do.  Red and black plaid around his waist, he grabbed his olive green messenger bag, covered in pins and patchwork and doodles.  His laptop and charger were stuffed inside, as well as his sketchbook and pencils.  Never left anywhere without it.

Phone in hand, he left his room, and walked to the front door. He passed Adam walking out of the bathroom, with his head wrapped in a towel and one around his waist, glasses slightly fogged from the steam.

“Is that even necessary?  You don’t even have that much hair to dry?” Keith questioned, grabbing an apple from the fridge.

“Don’t hate my routine when you don’t care about your own hair, kiddo,” Adam said, over dramatically ruffling Keith’s hair.  He swatted his hand away, walking out the door, with Shiro and Adam laughing behind him.  He called over his shoulder, “Call me if you need me to pick anything up.”

“Yeah, sure.” Shiro said, and Keith grabbed his red leather jacket and stuffed his feet into his black and red checkered vans.

“Be careful,” Shiro called and Keith locked the front door.

And he left the apartment.  With his bike helmet under his arm, he rode the elevator down. He passed the front lobby.  The swivel doors were occupied by someone holding a bunch of boxes, so he took the side door. 

He fiddled with his keys, looking for the one to his bike lock. He didn’t notice the person walking towards him, boxes covering his face.  Not until they crashed into each other.  

“Oh my god, shit. Shit, shit, no. No, oh my god,” The strangers rambled, grasping at the boxes that started teetering to the side, dangerously close to falling over.  Keith threw his hands out to stabilize them, his hand coming over the other guy's hand.

“Shit, sorry, I didn’t see you.” He said to Keith.  He poked his head around the boxes, and smiled at Keith.  

“Yeah, I can see that,” Keith said, taking his hands off the boxes after making sure they weren’t gonna fall, and smiled slightly, “Sorry about bumping into you.  Wasn’t watching where I was going either.”

“No worries. Thanks for not letting me drop these,” He smiled and moved out of the way for Keith to get through.  He waved and the boy stuck out two fingers as a salute, and went into the building, talking to the guy who went in through the swivel doors.

Keith got his keys out and unlocked his bike chain from the back of the complex.  He stuffed his messenger bag in the compartment in his motorcycle, and texted Pidge to say he was leaving to go to the coffee shop they’d agreed to meet up at the night before.  

Keef 

i’ll be there in like, 20 minutes

u better be up 

and there

Pidge(on)

don’t tell me ur awake 

a l r e a d y 

dude its 8 am

im nOT leaving my bed this early 

good bye sir

Keef 

ill give you like 10 minutes after i get there

then im leaving

its not even my fault 

u knooo shiro has like sum competition with the sun to see who can get up earlier

Pidge(on)

LMFAOOO

hes prolly winning too

uuuuuuugh fine

20*

Keef

whatever

just be there

and pidge i swear to god

if its some basic bitch place with watered down shit im gonna kill u

Pidge(on)

ur lack of faith in me is wounding

u wont be mad trust me

He pocketed his phone, sighing and zipped the pocket of the leather jacket he wore.  Extra precautions.  He’d broken his last phone that way.  His bank account was not happy about it.  He pulled his hair out of his face and tied it in a low ponytail,  tugging his helmet on.  The bike revved, and the low rumble of the engine was enough to set him into a familiar rhythm.  Kick up the stand, put his leather gloves on, twist the handle bars, speed out the parking lot.

The wind got stuck in his jacket, and sent a welcomed breeze up his shirt.  It helped his mind relax, the familiar feeling of his jacket wiping behind him as the wind rushed through it.  He loved the feeling.  The familiarity.  It was always something he could rely on.  Something to ground him, when everything got too much for him.  He’d grab his helmet, and just drive.  Back in Texas, he’d drive for hours down the dusty trains behind his parents house.  Even though he hadn’t had a motorcycle then, and he was a child, he’d ride his bicycle for hours and hours in their backyard until his mom would call him in for dinner.

Then when his dad died from a firefighter accident when he was 10.  He ran into a building, when everyone had told him not to go. He hadn’t listened.  He was a Kogane, never backing down from a challenge.  His mom packed them up and left right after the funeral.  She said it was to get a new start, make a life for them somewhere else.  So Texas would always be in their memories, but only the good ones.

Even then, he knew she just wanted to escape.  Escape from the freshest memories, not the countless others where his father was present.

So they packed up, and moved.  To LA.  It had been impulsive.  She’d applied for a position at the art gallery in the city, never really thinking she’d get called back.  When she did, he remembered her being  over the moon.

He’d gotten there, and always rode his bike around the neighborhood.  To and from school.  To the corner store.  To hockey practice.  That had been hard, for an 11 year old to go to practice with all his equipment on his back, and keep control of a bike.  Krolia drove him after he tried once.

And while they were there, she met her future husband.  They hadn’t gotten along with each other at first.  Both insanely competitive, but never failing to compliment the other on their pieces.  Friendly competition.  They started hanging out, they started dating, they had their children meet at Bring Your Kid To Work Day. Shiro had taken a liking to Keith, and the two found out they were going to the same school. Even when they weren’t technically step siblings yet, he had always looked up to Shiro, from the second they met.  So when, 4 years later,  their parents got married, Keith was ecstatic. He was going to have a family again. 

He still rode his bike, but not to escape anything. Because he liked his life now.  Enjoyed waking up, having breakfast with his mom and her fiancé, and fighting over who got to use the bathroom first with his step-bro to be.

Everything was great.  The wedding was sickeningly sweet. His mom looked beautiful in her dress.  Shiro’s dad cried.  Shiro teared up, his friend Matt sat beside him, also beaming with happiness.  Matt’s younger sister, Katie, who insisted on being called Pidge - “What kind of name is Pidge?” 11 year old Keith had asked the 8 year old Pidge.  “It’s my name.  Matt gave it to me. Better than a boring name like Keef,” She said, a tooth missing from the corner of her mouth” - sat beside Keith, smiling up at them, glasses way too big for her face.

Everything was great.  They were a family.  Went on vacations.  Shiro was the best big brother he could’ve asked for, and Shiro’s dad was really nice to him, and although he wasn’t like his own dad, Keith accepted him really quickly.

Everything was fine, until 3 years ago. 

Keith shook his head.  He didn’t want to go back there.  It was a new beginning, Shiro had said on the way up to Chicago.  A fresh start.  Away from all the messiness of their past.  Not that they were trying to escape when the opportunity arose, but they certainly did not turn it down.  

He arrived at the coffee shop ten minutes after texting Pidge.  He parked the bike across the street from the café, killing the engine. He stepped off the bike, and took his helmet off, shaking out his hair from the loose ponytail it was in.  Grabbing his bag from the compartment in his motorcycle, he stared up at the sign for the café

When Pidge had told him to go to the Lion’s Café, saying it was the “the best coffee shop near campus”, what he was met with certainly wasn’t at all how he’d pictured it.  Glass walls outlined the café, and even with the glare from the sun, he could see the many potted plants hanging from the ceiling against the glass. The sign was bold, each letter looping and connecting with another, in a gold cursive font.  A blue coffee cup with gold swirls of steam was put in place of the tittle for the letter “i”.

 Inside was no less intriguing.  The counter was old, rustic, worn.  Full of character.   A glass display case for the pastries was tall, chest height, gold accents around the rims. Chalk boards hung over the wall behind the counter, the menu in swirly, colorful, cursive writing.  Doodle’s of coffee cups and pastries adorned the corners of the boards.

The walls on either side were brick, colors ranging in warm tones, browns, dark burgundy, black, beige, with white cement between each block.  Scattered art work lined the walls, white floating shelves a sharp contrast, each adorned in small potted plants.  On the wall opposite from the front door, there was a large, floor-to-ceiling  length mirror. The tables were made to look like the ring of a tree, with metallic seats on either side of them.  

What really stood out to him was the room and wall on the far end of the café. Through the arch way, hung a curtain of beads.  Inside,  two couches with a mismatch of throw pillows sat on each side of the small room at the end of the café.  There were a few tables behind the couches, still the same design as the seating area in the front.  But the walls, the wall’s of the back room were what caught his attention.

The walls of the room were covered in books.  Head to toe.  All books, crammed into the shelves, books piled into the corners of the room, books piled on the corner tables on either side of either couch.  He ran his hands along the books on the shelf.  So many different books.  Fiction, non-fiction, old, new, big, small, paperback, hardcover.  There were so many.  He looked up at the lights on the ceiling- Faerie lights hung along the ceiling, in a mismatch pattern.  

It looked like something straight out of a movie.  Or a book, whatever.  Definitely something fictional.  It didn’t look real.

And it was this close to campus?

Keith knew exactly where he would be hanging out between classes now.

He sat down on the couch, and opened his laptop, connecting to the cafe’s WIFI.  He’d been there for a little over another the minutes when Pidge came through the door. 

Keith stifled a laugh, a grin plastering against his face.  Pidge looked...the same.  The same as always.  Tired, bags under her eyes.   She had on her favorite green pullover, with an awkward collar that sat somewhere on the line between crew neck and turtleneck - and honestly, it was 80 degrees, he didn’t understand how she wore long sleeves all the time and hadn’t passed out from heat stroke yet.  She had on cargo pants, probably Matt’s, probably something she grabbed from the laundry.  Her backpack hung off of one shoulder, as she ordered something from the cash.  

“Hey,” He said, when she sat down.  More like collapsed, into the spot opposite from him on the couch.

“Why did you make me come here so early?” She groaned, arm over her eyes, head thrown against the back of the couch.  

“Blame Shiro,” He grumbled, and turned back to his computer, tabs upon tabs of job applications open. 

Pidge sat up more, turning over to face him, grinning, while taking her laptop out of her bag, “So, how’re you liking the Lion?” 

“It’s cool.  Not what I expected,” Keith said, not taking his eyes off his screen.  It was more than cool, way better than cool.  It was probably going to be his new favorite place, but he’d never let Pidge know that.  

“Oh come on.  It’s great.  And I literally work here dude, you have to give it some credit,” She said, starting up the computer.

Keith turned his head, “You work here?  You said you worked at a -”

“At a coffee shop? Yeah, this one,” She grinned.

“It’s cool.  Aesthetic.  Might draw it or something.”

“Must be pretty great for Keith Kogane to draw it, huh.”

He smiled softly, “Must be.”

And they sat in silence for a while, with Keith’s eyes scanning for applications, and sending resume’s and sending emails to Kijiji ad’s, and Pidge’s steady typing filling the air.  Her coffee came a few minutes after - worker came over and passed it to her, and Pidge later told him her name was Ezor - and the silence washed over them again. 

It was nice.  He missed this.  The comfortable silence they could get into, enjoying each others presence.  It was familiar, and he reveled in  it, since he didn’t get too much familiarity in his life.  And he knew she understood how he valued their friendship so much.  Even if he didn’t express it in so many words.  She helped him, with grounding him, with being there for him, for pushing him out of his comfort zone.  

Well, maybe he spoke too soon.

“Dude, there’s this party tonight. Some ex-frat boy or something. His parties are known campus wide, according to Matt.  Legendary stories,” Pidge said, as they were packing up to go back to go back to Keith’s place.  He’d roped her into helping him unpack his last few boxes. 

“Keith, I am not unpacking your boxes for you.  Haven’t you been here for like a whole week?  Why haven’t you done it yet?”

“Didn’t it take you like, a month to finish unpacking your stuff when you moved here?” Keith countered, eyebrow raised, “I distinctly remember Colleen yelling at you through over Skype to unpack.”

“I’m like, 5’2.  I can’t be expected to unpack everything so quick, when I can’t even reach the top shelf.”

“Whatever.  I’ll buy you McDonalds if you come over.”

“I am offended that you think I will cave that easily.”

“And a tub of cookie dough.”

“Fine.” 

“Okay, that’s cool.  I guess,” He said, looking skeptically at her grin that would’ve put the Cheshire cat to shame, “Why are you telling me this?”

“‘Cause you’re coming.” She said.  “And before you even say no, Shiro already knows.  And he said that you should go.”

“Shiro wants me to unpack my boxes.  Not go to a party.” He said exasperated.  He held the door open for her to pass, and they made their way to Keith’s motorcycle.

“Pidge no I swear this is really not my scene.”

“You’re the worst liar. I can not even count off how many times you snuck out to go to parties back home,” She glared, tightening the straps of the backpack, so it wouldn’t fall off while they drove. “And how many stories you’ve told me over facetime.”

 “Okay, fine.  But I don’t know.  I think I’m just gonna watch stuff.  Not feeling up to it.”

“You will be.  Don’t worry kiddo -”

“I’m literally 2 years older than you, but go off.”

“-We’re gonna unpack your stuff and make it all sparkly and pretty and then you’re gonna get ready to kill all the boys at the party,” She said, her grin falling from her face as he shoved the helmet into her arms, “Do I have to wear this?  It probably has like lice or something.” 

“Do you want to bash your head in if you fall off?”

“You would never let me fall off,” She smirked, reluctantly  putting the helmet on, “You’re too much of a hero.” 

Keith swung his leg over the bike, and kicked up the kick stand.  He started the motorcycle, and Pidge’s arms tightened around his waist.

“Debatable.” He said over the roar of the engine.

***

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