#like the actions was still cool its just no one turned to mush or paste or had their bones broken

[gourde]

Oh yeah I forgot I saw the Borderlands movie and it's not as bad as I thought it was gonna be but they butchered Tiny Tina so it sucks. It should've been animated

[breakyeol]

touch it (sensual oils)

one shot

┗ pairing : baekhyun x reader

words: 4k

warnings: smut, sensual massage, byun-booty, hand job, light overstimulation 

a/n; because baekhyun deserves it

Baekhyun had a bad day.

That much was glaringly obvious from the very moment he stepped through the door, looking about ready to crawl beneath your bedsheets and never come out. He collapsed into your arms with a pathetic whine the moment you rose from where you were situated on the couch, the full weight of his body thrown against your chest. You grunted at the unexpected impact, quickly wrapping your arms around his slim waist when you felt his knees beginning to give out.

“Baek!” You yelped, struggling feebly to support the both of you. “What are you doing?!”

“I’m too tired to stand,” he cried out dramatically, voice muffled against your shoulder, “my body feels like it’s turning into mush.”

You clicked your tongue at his familiar dramatics, a fond smile flitting across your lips in spite of yourself. “Oh my poor baby~” you cooed playfully, petting the top of his head, “they worked you into the ground?”

A heavy pout tugged at the corners of his lips, big droopy eyes swinging up to meet yours as he bobbed his head. “I’m already sore. I’m not gonna be able to move tomorrow.” He complained noisily, hands curling into tight fists around the material of your sweatshirt.

This close, you could easily make out the lingering scent of sweat clinging to his skin, and you didn’t doubt for a second he worked until he was drenched in it. There was a flash, an image that passed before your eyes, of Baekhyun, sweat rolling down the smooth slope of his chin, dripping from the fringes of his bangs, glistening enticingly above his brow, his mouth pink and open, gasping. It vanished just as quickly as it had come, and your attention was drawn back to the whining mess of a man squirming against your chest.

“Go shower,” you suggested, not trusting your voice above a careful whisper, “then come to bed, okay?”

“I don’t want to. Just hold me.”

You snickered, combing your fingers through the short hairs on the back of his neck, feeling the way his body melted into the tender caress. “I will gladly hold you for the rest of the night… after you take a shower.”

He only offered an unintelligible grunt in response, showing no signs of detaching himself from your body, his hold around you tightening in a display of stubborn resistance. There was little doubt in your mind that he’d keep this up for as long as your patience allowed – which, given how soft you were for the man, was a fairly long time –, but you knew you’d both be better off once he felt clean and refreshed, cleansed of the day’s many hardships.

“You’ll feel a lot better afterwards.”

A groan this time.

“I’ll make you feel a lot better afterwards.”

At that reparation, his head snapped up, eyes wide and, despite the exhaustion, glinting with a hint of excitement. His spine straightened, grip around you loosening somewhat as strength seemed to return to his muscles. “Really?” He whispered, pink tongue slipping out from between petal lips. So easy. You could’ve scoffed, but thought better of yourself, settling for a suggestive cock of your head that could be interpreted in a number of ways.

“Go shower,” you hummed, pinching his chin between your thumb and index finger and guiding his face down towards yours, “then… we’ll see.”

He let out a huff of breath, eyes going hooded as they flickered down to trace the smug curve of lips. “You’re mean.”

You laughed lightly, planting a kiss that was far too short for Baekhyun’s liking to his pouted mouth before skillfully untangling yourself from his arms. “We’ll see just how mean I can be once you come to bed.” You called teasingly over your shoulder, grinning in wild amusement at the low curse that followed.

It wasn’t too long after you’d made your way into the bedroom that you heard the soft hiss of the shower. You waited until you heard the low groan that told you that your boyfriend had finally stepped beneath the hot spray to permeate through the separating wall before you jumped into action.

This wasn’t the first time Baekhyun had come home looking ready to collapse and you doubted it would be the last. There wasn’t much you could do about him having to go to work. No matter what you said or how many times you told him he should give himself a chance to rest and recover, he would always put his everything into his work, because that was just the kind of man he was. He was all passion and fire and unrelenting persistence even when he felt like he might die. It was a quality that sparked both admiration and fear inside of you.

There was a certain helplessness that came with being the person he came home to after a long day of work, body and mind teetering dangerously on the brink of exhaustion. There wasn’t much you could do to ease his stress, as he wasn’t the type to verbally unload or express his unease to its full extent. Sure, he was dramatic, but only in a playful sense. That was his way of downplaying and covering up his true feelings, to both you and himself.

But, there were still other ways you could help. And, with some brainstorming and a bit of research, you’d come up with the perfect plan to help ease some of Baekhyun’s tension. Though, you had to scramble a bit to set the scene, you knew it would be fully worth it to see the look on his face.

It was just as you’d lit the final candle, completing the final touches, that you heard the shower shut off. Perfect timing. You quickly situated yourself on the edge of the bed, the cool air caressing your scantily clad body, rousing goosebumps across your skin.

But, the chills tickling your spine were little more than a second thought as Baekhyun stepped into the room donning nothing more than a towel that hung dangerously low on his full hips. He paused just inside the doorway, his brows shooting upwards as he took in the state of your shared bedroom. Wide eyes danced over the flickering candles laid out strategically across the hardwood floor to encircle the bed, swept over the scattered rose petals, before finally landing on you.

You, wearing a deep crimson lingerie set, a sheer silk robe, and nothing more.

His bare chest, still glistening with water droplets, rose sharply as his breath hitched. A low curse tumbled from his lips, almost too faint to hear over the seductive instrumentals pulsing from the speakers.

A satisfied smirk broke across your face at his reaction, pleased with yourself for having successfully caught him off guard.

“Surprise,” you sang, voice low and silken.

For a moment, he didn’t move, his own amazement rooting him in place as he visually inhaled the sight of you. Your skin was hot beneath the intensity of his gaze, blazing as it trailed torturously slow up the length of your body, not daring to miss a single detail.

A faint buzz of nerves fizzled in your gut.

You’d never done anything like this before. Presented yourself in such a way to him, that is. All wrapped up in silk and lace of only the most sensual nature, bathed in smooth orange candlelight that tickled your ankles and crept up the smooth length of your lower legs. This was something new for the both of you, something unexplored. But it also wasn’t everything you had in store.

When he moved, it was with the utmost cautiousness, as if stepping too quickly or too harshly might disturb the beautiful illusion spread before him. But still, he moved, unable to resist the temptation.

Without speaking, his hands found your face, curving around the shape of your jaw and winding around the back of your neck. They were cold against your skin, and you couldn’t suppress the shiver that rippled down your spine as he leaned over you. You let out a soft hum at his touch, head rolling back under his gentle coaxing.

Not a beat passed before his mouth found yours, eager and impatient. You didn’t hesitate to kiss him back, easily finding the smooth slope of his naked waist and tugging him closer. He moaned somewhere low in his throat, tongue slipping out to trace the seam of your lip. You allowed as much, indulging the hungry press of his mouth, the careful nips of his teeth — until he tried to lay you down.

Your palms met the swells of his chest, and he pulled away, breathless and confused. “What is it?” He asked hoarsely, licking over his swollen lips. You’d be lying straight through your teeth if you said he didn’t look irresistible in that moment, wet hair hanging messily over his brows, dark, hooded eyes, all haze and lust as they stared down at you heatedly, full cheeks blushing a feverish shade of red. But you had plans for tonight, plans you didn’t intend to discard for the sake of sexual pleasure.

“I’m not fucking you.”

He gasped, disbelief coloring his features. “What? Why not?”

“Because,” you grinned, settling your hands on his hips, “I’m going to give you a massage.”

“A massa— ah!” his words cut off abruptly with a high pitched yelp as you suddenly spun him around, all but throwing him down onto the petal covered mattress. He could only stare at you in shock as you crawled over his nearly naked body, mouth curved into a playful smile.

“A massage.” You confirmed, sounding rather proud. But, he still looked less than amused, so you elaborated. “You’ve been working so hard these past few weeks, and I know you’ve been stressed and your body is exhausted. A massage will help release some of that tension.”

“You know what else releases tension?” He asked, sinking his teeth into his lower lip. You cocked a brow, feeling the light press of his fingertips as they feathered over your thighs, taking an obvious path upwards. Desire and mischief swirled in his eyes, voice low and thick as the words dripped slowly from his dangerous tongue, “Hot… passionate… s—”

You snatched his hands from your skin before they could reach their destination, pinning them to the mattress on either side of his head. “Shut up and roll over.”

He huffed, pouting up at you scornfully but obeyed nonetheless, rolling onto his stomach. “Do you even know how to give a massage?” He snipped as you settled yourself on the back of his towel clad thighs.

“I’ve done my research.” You offered lightly, sparing a moment to admire the lithe, sinewy build of his shoulders and back before you moved, reaching for the tall bottle you’d situated on the nightstand earlier. He followed your movements from the corner of his eye, curiosity breaking through the petulant facade.

“Don’t you think you’re being a bit cruel?”

“Perhaps,” you teased, pouring the translucent golden liquid into your palm, “but you’ll enjoy this, I promise. Just… relax.”

A defeated sigh escaped his chest, his body deflating beneath you. “Fine. But, this better feel better than sex or I swear to god I will—” he jolted with a soft gasp as you suddenly pressed the heels of your oil lathered palms into the area just between his shoulder blades and pushed outwards, “sue.”

You smirked smugly to yourself at the breathlessness with which he completed his sentence, obviously not having expected the pressure to feel that amazing.

“Good?” You asked, voice tinged with arrogance.

“Uh-huh,” he admitted immediately, moaning throatily as you rolled your thumbs deeply against the base of his neck, “oh fuck that feels so good.”

You chuckled, skillfully working your fingers across the planes of his broad shoulders. He melted deeper into the mattress with every knot you deftly unwound, soft, relieved moans breaking from his open mouth. The smooth, lavender scented oil glistened captivatingly on his sun-kissed skin, the delicate aroma gently permeating through your bedroom. It was a lovely, soothing smell, subtle and unimposing. You spread it diligently across the smooth expanse of his upper back, before gradually beginning to work your way downwards.

His sounds of bliss lowered in pitch the lower your hands reached, dipping into silky tenor groans when your hands reached the delicate dip of his waist. But, as you moved to massage the area just above his hips, he suddenly jolted, spine arching, a strained curse rushing from between clenched teeth.

You couldn’t help the concern that sparked to life in your chest at his response. “Does it hurt?” You asked, easing up on the pressure but not removing your touch completely. Sucking his lips into his mouth, he nodded with a soft, hesitant hum, glancing back at you from over his shoulder. “What happened?”

He made a strange noise in the back of his throat. “I just… twisted it weirdly during practice, I guess.” He offered weakly, shivering as you poured a small puddle of oil in the small of his back.

“Did you take a break?”

His silence was all the answer you needed.

“Baek,” your tone turned scolding as you gently worked your fingers into the tight dip of his waist, “just because you can fight through the pain doesn’t mean that you should. You’re not doing your body any favors by pushing it this hard.”

“I know but I—“ he sighed heavily, pressing his face into the sheets, “I just… don’t want to disappoint anybody.”

Oh, your poor, sweet Baekhyun. Always trying to please everyone else even when it ends up hurting him.

Pausing in your movements, you leaned forwards, bracing your hands on his shoulders so that you could speak in his ear. “Nobody is disappointed in you, Baek. You work so hard everyday to be the best you can be, and it shows. Everyone knows that you put your everything into what you do. And everyone’s proud of you,” you pressed your lips against the curve of his throat, slowly working your way up to the curve of his jaw, “I’m proud of you.”

He glanced back at you through his eyelashes. “Really?”

The question is so soft, so uncertain, and you feel your heart clench painfully in your chest at the thought that this man truly doesn’t understand just how many people adore him for just being… him. “Of course.”

You didn’t miss the rising of his cheeks, though he tried to hide himself beneath his arm, suddenly shy. You bit back a grin of your own, pressing one final kiss to the shell of his ear before returning to your earlier position and resuming the massage. He felt a dozen times more relaxed beneath you, the previous tension occupying his muscles having magically dissipated.

Sometimes, all he really needed was a little reassurance.

The smile that settled across your lips was unwavering as you took to kneading at the supple flesh of his hips, just above the top of his towel. Somewhere in the back of your mind, there was a flicker of a thought. A mischievous, dangerous thought. A thought that had your attention lingering on where the towel was tucked and secured on his right hip. Glancing up at the back of his head, you allowed your fingers to trail discretely towards the damp, white fabric, toying with it lightly so that he wouldn’t notice — not even as it came undone.

It was only as you peeled it swiftly away from his body and Baekhyun felt the rush of cool air across his backside that he realized what had just occurred.

“H– Hey!” He yelped, swinging his head around fast enough to give himself whiplash, eyes wide with disbelief.

“This is a full body massage, Baek. It’s not a full body massage unless it’s full body.”

“My butt does not need massaging.”

You grinned, sinking your teeth into your lower lip as you cocked a challenging brow. “I beg to differ.”

“Pervert.” He hissed.

You gasped, splaying a hand across your chest. “Who told you?”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes at your antics, but put up little resistance as you nudged his hands away from his butt. The tips of his ears and the back of his neck turned a dark, lovely shade of pink, and he quickly buried his face in his arms. Taking that as his nonverbal cue to continue, you poured yourself some more of the lavender scented oil, overturning your palm to let it drizzle onto his cheeks. He flinched slightly, the sensation catching him off guard.

So cute. You bit into the inside of your cheek to keep from cooing at him, opting to set your hands upon the gentle curve of his ass and knead your fingers into the soft, toned flesh. Baekhyun stifled a moan in the crook of his elbow, eyes fluttering as his body responded to the soothing touch.

“It feels good, doesn’t it?” You asked, tone teasing.

“Shut up.”

You snickered, massaging deep circles into the muscles of his upper thigh. He groaned deeply, fingers curling into the sheets. “Right there, right there— fuck, right there. It’s so sore.”

Heat flickered faintly in the pit of your stomach at the low rasping of his voice, grunted roughly through clenched teeth. Geez, why’d he have to sound so damn sexy…

Brushing off the thought as best you could, you forced yourself to focus on massaging the tension from his hamstrings. But each brush of your fingers over the insides of his thighs, intentional or otherwise, coaxed a round of violent shivers and breathless moans from your very much nude and very much oil covered boyfriend. You swallowed a mouthful of saliva, jaw clenching as you squeezed your hands around the backs of his lower thighs.

The sounds he was making weren’t helping your… situation in the least.

“How are you so good at this?” He asked, somewhat airily as your hands glided upwards, to just below the curve of his ass before returning to the crook of his knee. The question snapped you out of whatever trance you’d put yourself in watching the way his slick, honeyed skin dipped and curved deliciously beneath the pressure of your touch.

“Re- research. Lots of research.” You cleared your throat, shifting downwards on the mattress to set to work on his calves.

“You’re hands are fucking magic.”

Warmth slipped into your cheeks at the praise, your heart picking up speed within your chest. He was making it difficult for you to focus.

“I told you you’d like it.” You hummed playfully, beginning the slow ascent back up the length of his naked body.

“You were right,” he conceded easily, sighing in bliss as your hands slid over the small of his back, “I love it. Feels so fucking good, you have no idea.”

A content (and perhaps a bit smug) smile settled across your face. You couldn’t have asked for anything more. All you wanted was to make Baekhyun feel even just a little bit better after what you knew had to be a long, hard day— and you goddamn succeeded.

“Baek,” you murmured, and he gasped softly, not expecting your lips to be right next to his ear. He let out an unsteady hum, blinking hard twice when he felt your lace covered chest press against his back, “roll over for me?”

Swallowing thickly, he nodded. You lifted yourself off of him to give him just enough room to turn onto his back beneath you. All at once you were nose to nose, soft puffs of breath caressing your mouth. He was looking up at you with those eyes again, those hooded, wanting eyes, his hands clenching at the sheets somewhere down by his sides. You could see the dark flush on his cheeks, the desperation slowly seeping into his expression.

“Are you going to fuck me now?” The question was quiet, barely a whisper on his delicate pink lips. But the fire it ignited inside of you was anything but— loud, violent, and devastating, ripping your so well kept self control to shreds in a matter of moments.

“Yeah,” you whispered, sliding a slick hand down his toned stomach, “but I’m going to touch it first.”

He barely had time to react before your hand was around his cock. He gasped, back arching, forcing his chest flush against yours. Surprise flickered across your face upon feeling him already fully hard and throbbing against your palm. “Oh?”

“What?” He huffed out breathlessly, swinging the tip of his tongue over his lower lip, “did you expect me not to get hard while my sexy girlfriend wearing sexy lingerie rubs every inch of my body with oil?”

Pausing, you squinted down at him. “It was the butt massage, wasn’t it?”

He glared, and you grinned.

But any annoyance was wiped clean off his face as you squeezed your fingers around him, stroking his dick at a slow, borderline torturous pace. The remaining oil on your hand combined with his precum provided the perfect lubrication, the slide smooth and wet, the lewd sound of it making you clench around nothing. Baekhyun’s head rolled back, mouth falling open in a silent moan. But, not for a moment did his gaze break from yours. You bit your lip harshly, a violent heat licking at your veins, the sheer intensity of his dark stare making your head feel dizzy.

“You look… so hot right now.” You hadn’t intended to say the words out loud, but you also couldn’t find it in yourself to feel even the least bit ashamed.

The corner of his mouth curled into a sultry smirk, an airy chuckle rumbling somewhere low in his chest.

“Yeah?” You nodded. “Then kiss me.”

You did so without hesitation.

Baekhyun let out a heady groan, hands surging up from between your bodies to cradle your jaw as your lips worked against his with a hunger you hadn’t realized you possessed. It was uncoordinated and messy, all lashing tongue and vicious teeth, biting and sucking and licking until you were certain your that lips were raw. You were dizzy and intoxicated by the taste of him, and he wasn’t in much of a better state. With his cock in your hand and your tongue in his mouth, it didn’t seem like he’d last much longer.

Beneath you, Baekhyun’s hips bucked and rolled, frenzied and desperate. Your hand stilled around him, allowing him the luxury of control as he fucked himself violently into your closed fist. Each moan that tumbled from his mouth into yours was louder than the last, and you relished in the unabashed displays of pleasure, taking an immense amount of pride in knowing that you were the cause of it.

“I’m gonna come,” he gasped the warning, his nails biting harshly into your shoulder, “fuck— fuck, wait— I’m g-gonna come.”

“Baek,” you panted, still trying to catch your breath from the kiss, “come for me. Please.”

His back arched, the furnace of his body overwhelmed but still trying feebly to fight back his oncoming high. Baekhyun didn’t like coming first. He’d always had the tendency of putting your pleasure above his own, making sure you came at least once (if not multiple times) before him. But tonight wasn’t about you. Tonight was about him. And you were going to make sure he knew it.

You buried your face in the crook of his neck, sucking a dark bruise into his skin while simultaneously rolling your thumb over his sensitive tip in a way that had him trembling pathetically beneath you.

“Oh god— oh fuck— y/n—!” He came with a hoarse cry of your name, hips bucking, muscles tensing, skin shivering. You felt his hot release spilling over your knuckles, slipping between your fingers. He whimpered and squirmed as the overstimulation kicked in, but you didn’t stop stroking him until he started begging. “I can’t, I can’t— baby, please—” his chest heaved and his eyes went glassy, the dangerous cocktail of pleasure and pain making his head feel dizzy.

Looking down at him, so wrecked and fucked out, with those flushed cheeks and heavy eyes, you felt your heart flutter at the same time arousal coiled in your gut. He was just too damn pretty for his own good.

You relented, gently releasing his spent dick from your hold. He let out a shaky breath before tugging you into another mind numbing kiss. You moaned softly against his lips, feeling one of his hands coil around the back of your neck while the other explored the expanse of your back. It didn’t take long before they discovered the clasp of your bra, deftly unclasping it. Distracted by the skillful flicks of his tongue, you didn’t realize what he’d done until you felt the lacy fabric slip down your arms.

A giggle bubbled in your throat, and you whispered against his mouth, “naughty boy.”

His lips curled, and then all at once you found yourself sprawled on your back. “Naughty girl,” Baekhyun retaliated in a low, playful growl, pinning your hands to the mattress on either side of your head, “making me cum even after I told you to wait...”

His head dipped and you gasped softly as he nipped at the sensitive part of your throat, one hand sliding down to grip at your naked breast. You bit your lip to suppress a whimper as he circled your nipple with a rough thumb.

“Guess I’ll just have to pay you back for it…”

You weren’t about to object to that.

[jamkookies]

Epilogue: Red Moon

Description : A trip to Malta for the shooting of Bon Voyage seems peaceful enough until the moment things take an unexpected turn...

Word count: 7,4k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You could hear the hushed voices that broke the silence and along with it the quiet buzz of traffic behind the glass panes. They were trying not to wake you up but what they didn't know was that you'd already been awake this whole time, only choosing to close your eyes for the sake of trying to satiate your inner turmoil.

"What did he say?" A voice you would recognize anywhere and anytime. Jungkook's arm was comfortably draped around your back, allowing your head to lean on his warm, familiar chest. It felt more like home now that you knew that you were going there...

A tap on a screen. A rustle of clothes.

"He said they're all waiting for us at the dorm." Another voice but this one you'd missed hearing for a long time.

Namjoon.

"Good." Jungkook's low voice vibrates through his chest. He sighs wistfully. "I hope everything goes well from now on. I'm tired."

"Don't worry. It's over now, " you hear Namjoon reply. Then, a hesitant pause. "How is she?"

"I'm alive and well, Joon-Hyung. Thanks for asking," you mumble with your face mushed into Jungkook's chest, eyes still closed. The latter flinches slightly and tilts his head down, trying to see if you'd really been the one talking. "I thought you were asleep."

"How can I when the both of you won't stop babbling?" You turn to stare at the boy sitting across from you.

Namjoon smiles sheepishly and two small dimples appear on his cheeks. "Sorry."

It was not easy to describe the warm sensation you felt blooming in your chest, spreading its colorful tendrils into a series of explosions. Weird, to realize the importance of some people in your life, how their absence could turn your heart into a hollow, a barren crater. Only now that he was right in front of your eyes did you understand that you'd grown used to being around your loved ones. Keeping yourself apart from them did not particularly make you happy.

Namjoon's smile disappears as his forehead creases into a line. "Jungkook, will you please hand her over for a second for goodness' sake? You've been with her all this time. It's my turn now."

You momentarily freeze, surprise written all over your face. All these years of living with him had made you hesitate about being too clingy since you knew perfectly well that he wasn't a fan of overly physical contact. Sure, you'd hugged a bit earlier back at the building but that was it. Namjoon liked short, quick interactions but now that he was demanding extra cuddling himself, you didn't really know how to react.

Jungkook disentangles himself from you and gives your body a slight push towards the boy waiting with open arms. You sit down next to him, a bit hesitant at first but Namjoon ends the awkwardness by throwing his arm around your shoulders, pulling you in for a side hug. You breathe him in, trying to absorb that scent of solace. It eased every strain on your muscles; you could feel it from the way you just sag into his arms.

"I missed you," Namjoon whispers softly and strokes your back with the flat of his palm.

"I missed you more," you sigh.

Through a crack in Namjoon's elbow, you peek at Jungkook on the opposite seat, smiling endearingly at the scene unfolding in front of him. "What are you smiling at?" you murmur in distaste.

"I'm not smiling, " Jungkook quickly regains his composure and wipes off the dumb-looking expression.

"You were, actually, " Namjoon confirms.

"Hyung!" the boy complains, utterly shocked at the unexpected betrayal. You find the corners of your lips upturn, delighted from these harmless quarrels that reminded you of the way you'd always been with each other. Playful, mischievous and happy.

"Now you're the one smiling, " you find Jungkook staring at you unabashedly. You change your expression with lightning speed, just as he'd done earlier. "Oh shut up, Jungkook."

"It's a shame that the both of you didn't pursue acting, " Namjoon intervenes. "I was really speechless at your little game back there with manager-nim."

"I didn't even know it was gonna work, " you admit. "I was just hoping he would fall for the trick."

"You did well, though, " Jungkook says. "At first I almost thought you were being for real. But then you dropped the hint and I went along with the game."

"What hint?" Namjoon asks.

"She said the words 'fake it' and stared at me so hard, it was impossible not to tell. Besides-" he throws a leg across his knee. "- I know you would never say those things about me."

You look away and choose to stare hard at the scenery skipping past your eyes, the presence of Namjoon suddenly making you too self-conscious. He rapidly switches glances between you and Jungkook, trying to make sense of it all. "I don't understand what's going on."

"It doesn't matter. Jungkook-Hyung will explain it to you later, " you clarify for him.

They both do a double-take, one giving you a death glare while the other just a confused one. "Why are you calling me that, Y/N?" the former demands. "Namjoon-hyung already knows about us."

This whole situation didn't sit well with you. You don't take your eyes off the window but choose to talk with their obscure reflections instead. "But the others-"

"Y/N, literally everyone knew about the two of you, " Namjoon's reflection says. "You were the one who took the longest to realize it."

This was crazy. Even after all the hell you'd been through, you still felt concerned over their thoughts and opinions and the light they saw you in. Were they okay with it? Did they feel angry? Betrayed? Disappointed? Just what did they feel?

You rest your forehead on the glass pane of the window and shut your eyes tight. There was a throbbing ache in between your brows that was growing more and more intense and you just wanted it gone. "What do I do? Tell me, please. I'm tired, " you drawl the words out.

"First, you stop whining, that's what you should do, " Jungkook's slightly irritated voice causes your eyelids to shoot open, vision straying out of focus.

"Jungkook, it's better if you-"

"No, hyung. She's been going on like this since I can remember. I already told her that I was being serious about us and I don't think the others would ever say anything against it but she just doesn't want to admit it. It's always the people. Always the damn people. Well, screw the people. I don't even care at this po- why won't you look at me?"

As if on cue, your eyes raise deliberately towards the glass till they hold his stare. His hands are paused mid-air, strangely resembling a choking position. The heat in his words had been real after all. "Don't turn your back on me, " he continues, his voice an octave lower.

You turn around.

Jungkook lowers his hands into his lap. "Stop making things harder. It's not that deep."

Your lips crack into an uncontainable smirk. "You're such a bastard. Joon-hyung, can you believe I love this idiot?"

"Idiots love idiots, I guess, " Namjoon answers.

Jungkook's booming laugh echoes across the small space of the car. "Nice one, hyung. Wait, did you just call me-"

"You have no evidence, " Namjoon defends himself.

Now you're the one exploding into a frenzy of manic laughter. This whole situation had made a one-eighty flip, any traces of gloom now utterly forgotten.

"You shut up, " Jungkook sneers.

"Make me, " you reply.

"I'll throw you out of the car."

"I'll bash your head into the window."

He sticks his tongue at you.

You do the same.

"Sir, how much longer?" Namjoon yells at the driver.

* * *

The dorm has never looked more beautiful in your eyes. You'd experienced something similar to it hundreds of times. The numerous tours you did throughout the year would often make your homesickness unbearable so when you came back, nothing could top the familiar way your old blanket would pool in the floor, accompanied by a cup of hot chocolate in your hand.

Despite the eagerness to join the others after so long, you still dread having to explain everything all over again. You just didn't want to dwell on the past anymore, no matter how visible the results were to the present.

As soon as the car stops, you take a deep breath before doing anything else. "Are you okay?" Namjoon asks, concern evident on his face.

"No, " you admit.

He'd probably been waiting for you to go through the usual procedure; pretend to be fine and suck it up. Well, you don't. After all, you'd promised not to pretend anymore.

"It's okay. You will be, " he assures.

As if to emphasize this very fact, Jungkook intertwines your hands together and opens the car door. He pulls you close to him, Namjoon not far behind and after a few steps, the three of you are standing in front of the main entrance. The way you nod a silent salute at the bodyguards in each corner has changed just like the brand new lenses you now see them through.

Jungkook rings the bell. Not even two seconds have passed when the door flies open, an angry-looking Hoseok occupying the threshold. There are daggers shooting from his eyes and unfortunately, you're the target. He points a finger at you accusingly. "You owe me an apology."

You blink.

"First of all-" he throws his arms around you. "-lying is not cool. Second of all-" he squeezes you affectionately. "- don't ever act like you don't know me. I knew it was you at the airport."

You couldn't really take his words seriously while his actions said otherwise but then again, this was Hoseok you were talking about. You squeeze him back. "Sorry, hyung."

The others must have heard the pandemonium because next thing you know; a rumble of footsteps boom across the salon. The first head you peep from Hoseok's shoulder is Yoongi's, who is speeding towards you with his signature grandpa run. You're not even left a moment to breathe as he crashes into you as soon as Hoseok lets go. "Oh thank God. Don't you ever do that again. Ever." He guides your head onto the crook of his neck, laying it for support as he squeezes the life out of you.

Overwhelmed was an understatement. You were feeling all sorts of things, the kinds of which you'd never felt before. They were all worried sick, you knew that but you'd never seen them act like this. Still, you had yet to wait for a series of scoldings and simultaneous hugs.

Out of nowhere, the inseparable duo of Jimin and Taehyung pops up. You're immediately ripped off from Yoongi's embrace and dragged like a rag doll through the floor as both of them throw themselves at you. Normally, you would've been able to hold their weight just fine; the practice of all those years of fights had trained you more than enough, but now you just drop like a sack of potatoes, Tae's and Jimin's faces looming over you from above.

For some strange reason, they always seemed to forget that you had some girl things on your chest that didn't exactly allow you to play around freely. At this moment, Taehyung's elbow digs painfully on the spot right next to your armpit, which meant really close to the area of danger. They were weighing you down on each side like two overgrown pigs.

"Do you want to go first?" Jimin asks his partner in crime while boring holes with his eyes into your face.

"No, I'll let you do the honors, " the latter answers while mirroring his actions.

"Hey, lay off her!" Namjoon scorns them. "She's tired." They still remain on top of you, indifferent to their hyung's words. Then, Jimin's playfully serious face turns genuine for a moment and you detect the look of concern that flashes behind his eyes. "You really scared us you, idiot."

"Yeah, you did," Taehyung confirms.

You have the nerve to laugh. "Is this how you say hi to your old roommate?"

"Hey, don't exclude me!" Jimin whines.

You knee him in the groin. He doubles over in pain and rolls off your body, taking a huge chunk from the weight that had been pushing you down. Finally, you can breathe freely once again. But not quite.

Your old roommate is still frozen in his spot, not a muscle moving. You didn't know whether he was shocked or if their stupid soulmate voodoo made them feel pain on both partners but either way, you were certainly not gonna cut him any slack because of it. He notices the shift in your facial expression only a split second later and even though his hands instinctively reach for his crotch they don't manage to cover it in time. Your upper thigh hits his delicate area not so delicately if you might say. He groans and finally removes himself from your exhausted body.

Finally.

"Can't you just greet me like a normal person would?" you grunt as you support one hand to the floor to push yourself up. Jungkook easily comes to your aid and to the injured soldiers that still hadn't gotten up from the floor.

"You kinda deserved it, though, " he mumbles. You bend your knee, acting as if you're gonna hit him too and he flinches.

Hoseok's delighted chuckle brings joy in your chest. His face is back to that radiating aura, just like you remembered. It had that contagious quality to it. You would almost always notice the corners of your lips turning up as if they had a mind of their own. But after that, awkward silence.

You'd seen it coming but now that the white noise in the room turns almost deafening, you are overly aware of the situation. It's like you're the center of unwanted attention. At first, you're wondering why they were all cornering you with their glares and not even throwing a look at Jungkook but then you remember. They'd already met while you were unconscious. There was so much you needed to catch on.

You clear your throat. "So, where's Jin-hyung?"

Yoongi's face contorts in distress. "He's upstairs."

You don't miss the sudden change in his expression. "What? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, " Hoseok interferes. "He just wasn't feeling very well."

Oh no.

His words have barely registered in your brain when you're suddenly sprinting up the stairs, swallowing them two by two with each step. You don't even think about knocking, swinging the door on his room wide open in a quick motion.

The shape of a body is discernible under the covers in the bed. It resembles a fetal position but not a strip of skin is visible. He'd covered himself up from head to toe.

"Leave me alone, " you hear his muffled voice.

"Hyung..." you hesitate.

The covers are ripped immediately from his body, his head popping out in the surface with a sharp swish. You see past the bed-head, past the lines the fabric had etched onto his skin and focus on his eyes. They widened twice the size and just like that, were hooded in surrender. Glassy.

"Y/N?"

"Hyung, " you repeat.

He pulls the covers over his head, clenching his hands tight on the edges and wrapping himself up like a mummy. You creep closer to the side of the bed and slowly approach him. "Hyung, what's wrong?"

You lay a hesitant hand where you supposed his arm was and talk hushedly, almost in a whisper. As if he were a little boy. The covers start shaking, the body underneath heaving with convulsions.

"Hyung, please don't cry. This is all my fault, please don't cry." You delicately pull the covers from him and his face emerges into the surface, glistening with undried tears. This wasn't like him. You'd never seen him like this, in this level of misery before. You couldn't understand the reason why he was so affected.

And then, suddenly everything clicks into place. He wasn't mad at you, nor bitter at that case. He was mad at himself. Being the oldest had always been a burden to him, no matter how hard he tried to deny it. It went without saying that he had responsibilities and that's why the recent events had taken a toll on him more than anyone else. He felt like it was his fault that you'd gotten yourself into all that trouble and rendered himself guilty for not being able to do anything about it.

You crouch down until your head lays on his chest and lock his waist in a warm hug. Thankfully he returns the hug and doesn't hesitate to thread his fingers through your hair. "Jin-hyung, I..."

"I know. Jungkook told us everything."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

• JUNGKOOK •

What is taking her so long?

It has been half an hour since she disappeared upstairs and I haven't heard a single chirp from either of them. I'm starting to get worried. "Hyung, are you sure Jin-hyung is okay?" I ask Yoongi for the nth time within the recent hour.

"He's fine, don't worry. His pride is hurt that's all."

It still baffled me that Jin-hyung had been so hurt by everything that had happened. However, I did sympathize with him to some extent. After all, he has been like a lord-protector for us all this time despite the carefree portrait everyone likes to paint him in. Only now do I realize how much can time bring out people's true colors.

"There you are!" I hear Taehyung call out at the top of his lungs. On cue, two pairs of legs make their way down the stairs, one of which attains loose white pajamas with tiny RJ figurines. Jin leans heavily onto Y/N 's shoulders as he shuffles one step after the other. I patiently wait for them to reach the bottom of the stairs before going into a frenzy of critiques. "Don't tell me you exercised right after eating again, Hyung! " I scold him in a poor attempt to get rid of the gloominess in the room. "I've told you millions of times that it makes you sick."

"Shut up, kid. What do you know? I basically raised you." He gives me that typical expressionless face when he tags along in my games. "I should've let you starve." He shakes his head pitifully.

"Hey, I paid for my own lunch!" I whine yet again.

He sighs wistfully and turns his head to Y/N who is still supporting his weight. " You better shut your boyfriend's mouth before I beat his ass."

She snorts."You'll have to get in line."

I try not to let the relief show on my face. At least she didn't blush so furiously or flinch upon hearing such terms. It took a long time for me to get rid of her unnecessary shyness, which to be honest I sometimes enjoyed, but fortunately, she now doesn't mind being called names that indicated more than just friendship.

Jimin takes the lead from Y/N, throwing Jin's arm around his own shoulders and guiding him towards the sofa. The latter plops down heavily, arching his back till the nape of his neck touches the soft fabric.

There really was something going on with him.

"Hyung..." I start, almost in a whisper but he raises a hand to stop me from going further.

"Spare me."

Why was everyone being so irritating today? I'm torn between decking Jin on the face and pulling Y/N by the hair for acting like a spoiled brat back at the car. Or even better, I could just smash their heads together and call it a day. They did seem to enjoy each other's company so much after all. 

I just don't understand why is everyone acting like a drama queen all of a sudden. They'd been fine when I came bursting through the door yesterday morning, shouting cries of help in between hurried breaths. Sure, they'd been shocked at first. Who wouldn't? After all, I may or may have not spent a couple of weeks like a fugitive, without even bothering to let them know where I was that whole time. But they'd been quick to recover.

Namjoon and Yoongi had been the first ones to take over the reins, making sure I was okay before proceeding to ask me all about what happened. I'd managed to squeeze the events of the last couple of days into a hot minute, struggling to catch my breath when my throat started to dry. Almost everyone had rushed to help.

Everyone except Jin.

It was like he'd closed in on himself, building invisible walls around his frame and not letting any intruders from breaking through them. He'd silently made his way up the stairs, and locked himself up in his room, the rest of the guys way too distracted to properly pay him attention. After that, I hadn't seen him at all.

"You're staring, Jungkook."

"Oh, sorry hyung. I just got...lost in thought I guess."

"Are you really okay?" Y/N asks him again, hints of concern still visible on the creases of her forehead.

"He's fine. Stop brushing his mane so much." Namjoon pipes in.

"Did you just call me hairy?" Jin's voice raises in a pitch on the last syllable.

I feel my lips tug at their corners in amusement. Even though the memories of the past events lurked around the corners like uninvited guests, everyone seemed to be trying to bring things back to normal again. Just like the old days, playing around with each other, cracking dumb jokes once in a while. It's like I can finally breathe in peace and not worry about what fate has stored for me in the future. I have everything I want and everything I need and that's all that matters for now.

It's not long after the sun has made its wide arch over the sky, painting its canvas with strange mixes of colors. Time passed with a mind of its own, not bothering to wait for my silent prayers to cherish these peaceful moments just for a little longer. And neither did the hunger. My stomach had been whining over the last thirty minutes like a newborn baby and it wasn't intending on keeping it down anytime soon.

Thankfully, Yoongi has already taken care of that, attracting our attention with the clink of a spoon on a glass of water. "Dinner's served, fellas." He announces before taking a seat on the head of the table. We all scramble forward, abandoning whatever we were doing to take a curious look over the table.

And sure enough, it did not disappoint.

There's not an inch of bare surface as the table overflows with numerous dishes, all sorts of mouth-watering assortments and delicacies laid out like a true work of art. I don't even know where to land my eyes, the sight suddenly too overwhelming for my poor food-deprived stomach. I'd been so caught up with things during the day that I hadn't managed to give the little guy the right attention.

From the corner of my eye, I catch sight of Y/N's figure standing right by the table and drinking it all in.

Poor baby must be so hungry after all she went through.

I slap a hand over my mouth even though none of the words made it past my lips. If she ever heard me calling her that, she would punch me right in the face.

And just like that, as if she'd pried her way into my thoughts, her eyes flicker to mine and hold their stare. She notices the hand that still covers my mouth and raises her eyebrows in confusion. I pretend to scratch my chin and let my hand fall back in its place, followed by a wink I send in her direction.

She rolls her eyes and unceremoniously takes a seat.

Not letting this golden opportunity slip past my hands, I sneak my way over the crowd of boys rushing to get their hands on the food and sit right next to her. As soon as she notices my presence, a smug grin creeps its way into her features. "Missed me, Koo?"

"Kind of but don't get too full of yourself, " I reply softly.

"Oh I'm about to get full alright, " she says, eyeing a medium cooked steak with a predatory look.

"Hyung, did you really make all of this?" Taehyung asks through a mouthful of something. Bread, most likely.

"I sure did." Yoongi unconsciously puffs out his chest as he fills a glass of red wine.

"Liar. I totally saw you order from the catering service, " Hoseok accuses the poor guy, earning nothing more from him than a devilish grin disguised by the glass he lifts to his mouth.

Eventually, everyone joins the circle and the sounds of conversation are quickly replaced by the clinking of spoons, chopsticks, and glasses. The food was really that good. In between bites, I throw constant glances at Y/N, sat by my left side, but she seems too absorbed in the honey-covered pancake to pay me any mind.

I discreetly tug at her sleeve and drag her hand under the table, intertwining our fingers together. I use my thigh to support our linked hands and she abruptly stops chewing. I can't help the subtle smile that threatens to make its appearance on my face and by the looks of it, she's trying to hide it too.

Totally unbothered, I turn back my attention to the plate in front of me and stab my fork into a piece of asparagus while my other hand's thumb starts tracing smooth circles into her skin. Then she does something I really wasn't expecting. She disentangles our fingers and stretches her palm before laying it facedown on my thigh.

Caressing it.

I feel like I'm about to die right there and then. And if that wasn't enough she looks straight ahead with her lips twitching in amusement, not even throwing me a glance and somehow that's better 'cause I don't think I would be able to keep myself from squirming beneath her heavy gaze. My whole body tenses and I reach for the glass of water to cool myself down. My little game had backfired.

Just when her hand begins its ministrations, tracing meaningless patterns that grow close to dangerous areas, my eyes clash with Jimin's. He narrows his eyes at my uneasiness and then drops his glare on a spot under the table, staring at it for a moment too long. Did this guy have X-ray vision or something?

"You're holding hands, aren't you?" He states without a care in the world.

I choke on my water while Y/N quickly lets go of my thigh and proceeds to plaster a huge smile on her face. "You might wanna have to slow down with the wine, Jimin-ssi. It's getting to you."

Her remark still doesn't stop all the heads around the table from turning in our direction. I take advantage of the situation and clear my throat. "That reminds me, I know we haven't really talked about this seriously so I guess it's time we did." Y/N whips her head on her right and glares at me so intensely that it feels like she'll pounce on me and rip my throat out.

My glare on her doesn't falter either. "Do you want to go to your room and cry about it?"

She scoffs and links her arms in her chest.

"Hey, what's the matter with you two? I thought we went over this." Namjoon switches his attention from one to the other, his sense of protectiveness already taking hold of his judgment.

Y/N relents. Just barely. "Fine. This idiot over here told me that none of you is against us being in a relationship together but I'm not completely convinced. And I'm not even sure what will PD-nimm say about this. Call me stupid all you want but this is not a children's game. I want to know if I'm making anyone uncomfortable 'cause, to be honest, I don't know if I can live with that knowledge." Her breath hitches on that last part. Her words had gone lower and lower in timbre til by the end of it, even I could barely make out what she said.

I feel a pang in my chest. She was saying the truth and I was one of the people that had no doubts about it. I'd seen it beforehand how it pained her to say those words, how insecure and troubled she'd felt whenever it came to this particular topic. There's nothing more that I wanted to do except for taking that burden from her and putting it on my own shoulders.

"Y/N, you should've figured out by now that we would never do such a thing, " Jimin says quietly. One of his blinding smiles lights up his whole features and it's weird how contagious it is because I slowly feel myself smile too. "As long as you're happy, it doesn't really matter who you choose to live your life with. Right?" His eyes stop by each of the guys in a half-circle, demanding their affirmation.

"Yeah, sure, " Jin says and stretches his arms high above his head. "I mean they can have kids for all I care."

"Hyung, what the hell!"

A series of protests follow after that, each one louder and more incredulous than the other. I sneak a look at Y/N and sure enough, her eyes are crinkled at the corners, observing the scene with mild amusement.

I almost melt into a puddle right there.

"My point IS, " Jin continues. "I have no objections and I don't think anyone else has either."

Y/N smiles endearingly. "Thanks, hyung. I owe you one."

"You sure do, " he fires back. "I'm expecting a new bag by tonight."

That seems to put her gears working and then she's wincing painfully, features twisted into a look of guilt. "Hate to break it to you hyung but my credit card is disabled."

"Yeah mine too, " I chime in. "It's been like that for a while."

"Oh right." Namjoon looks as if a realization dawned upon him and his eyes grow twice the size. "I totally forgot about that."

"Forgot about what?"

There's not an ounce of sheepishness when he says the next words. "Your credit cards. I'm the one who disabled them."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N

After a long session of arguments and incredulous outrage, Kim Namjoon had been forced into explaining every itsy bitsy piece of information that he apparently had been keeping from you. You had been listening intently at every word that made it past his lips with deep concentration, stopping occasionally to stop yourself from slitting his throat but in the end, you had finally managed to get the gist of it. He had disabled your credit cards so you would not be able to go anywhere and he could be sure you would remain within the country. That's right. This boy/man had it all figured it out. Who were you to compete with his 148 IQ?

You sigh once again and bury your face deeper into the pillow, seeking comfort into the soft material for a change. You couldn't believe Namjoon had played the both of you like puppeteers in his skillful hands and how exactly he had done that was beyond your comprehension. You had so much to learn from that shrewd son of a-

The door knocks. You don't bother answering. Whoever it was, they better saw that you were trying to sleep and left you alone. Careful footsteps sound across the room and make their way into your ears. Then, the bed slightly dips down and another weight joins in.

"Can you even breathe like that?"

You lift your head the slightest bit, letting the air fill your lungs before dropping it back down with a loud thump.

A chuckle.

Your curtain of hair is suddenly tucked behind your ear as Jungkook's face gets in view, his head tilted adorably to the side as he looks at you with wide eyes. "What's wrong?"

You lean your cheek into his palm. "Nothing. I just missed laying down on my bed."

He smiles at that. A stray hair escapes his own ear and gets into the way and you resist the temptation to mirror his movements. The heat in your body rises tenfold when Jungkook scoots closer and lays down by your side. It's a sight you can't seem to look away from; his cheek mushed into the pillow with the dark locks falling carelessly across his forehead and nose, yet they still can't hide the boyish sparkle in his eyes. And those same eyes dip down to the expanse of your lips. You know he's looking at them because you're doing just the same and then you're both leaning closer and closer-

"Wait," he pauses.

You freeze, worried if you'd been too straight-forward and force your hormone-driven body to stop acting with a mind of its own. Jungkook rises from the bed and tip-toes his way to the door, careful not to make a sound.

Curiosity now makes you turn around and lay on your back, observing his delicate movements with newfound interest.

He smirks and abruptly swings the door wide open in one swift motion. Six pairs of eyes are left staring at the both of you in utter shock. You don't know whether to laugh or cry at Jimin's crouched position by the threshold (he'd obviously been trying to eavesdrop with his ear stuck to the door), Taehyung's identic stance or the other guys leaning in to have a peek of their own. Even Namjoon had joined in for heaven's sake.

"Jungkook-ssi!" Jimin squeaks, a little bit more excited than necessary, even though you weren't completely sure that was the case. "We were just about to call for you. We're going on a yacht trip tonight. PD-nimm invited us. Ok, that's it." He laughs nervously and scurries away, dragging the others by their necks.

As soon as the door shuts, you explode into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. "What was that?!" you gasp for breath and Jungkook is quick to join you, the sound of his melodious giggling, music to your ears.

"We caught them red-handed, " he says and locks the door.

Locks it.

Twice.

The laughter dies in your throat. He notices your change of mood and quickly explains himself. "Just to make sure."

"For what, though?" you challenge him.

This time the devilish grin is crystal clear on his face and you swear you can feel your stomach do a backflip.

"Don't play dumb, " he says in a low voice.

"Ok, I'm sorry."

His eyebrows jump all the way to his hairline. "That was fast."

You fold an arm under your neck. "Yeah, I mean you can be intimidating sometimes."

He slowly makes his way back to the bed with an angry pout and this time he tucks himself under the covers. "Stop mocking me."

A smile tugs at the corners of your lips. "Sorry, can't help it when you're so cu-" He silences you when his mouth crashes into yours with surprising force but it soon slows down into something more gentle and delicate. The soft flesh of his rosy lips caresses yours with a breathy sigh and it's all you can do not to melt into goo. Suddenly things start getting a little more heated, and the covers aren't exactly making it any easier. The sweat makes your clothes stick uncomfortably into your back and you try to shake it off but Jungkook beats you to it, grabbing a handful of the material and violently throwing it to the ground.

You've never seen him so desperate with desire, completely given in to the thoughts you were sure had been occupying his mind for a long time now. Because yours was already a mess of limbs, touches, and sounds. You'd missed feeling his skin against yours, missed raking a hand through his beautiful dark locks and giving them a light tug. That only seems to spur him on because now not only was he touching you with his hands but his torso also kept driving you higher into the mattress, desperate for some friction.

You involuntarily gasp, pulling him into you impossibly closer, until you were sure that there was no space between the two of you.

The kisses start getting sloppier as he moves his attention to the sensitive skin of your neck and grazes his teeth lightly over it. The feeling has you arching your back in pure bliss.

Your hands find their way sneaking under his shirt to feel the expanse of his muscles flexing under your touch. He suddenly lifts himself up just so he can look straight into your eyes and there are so many unspoken emotions that fleetingly pass between the both of you that you feel yourself drown in the depths of his beautiful onyx orbs.

No words.

None needed.

He smiles hesitantly and lowers himself back down, each forearm at the side of your head, re-attaching the burning skin of his lips onto yours and this goes on until you lose all sense of time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

JUNGKOOK

It's been a while since I've felt so good. The warm breeze gently swaying the boat (or more exactly, the yacht), the calming crash of waves onto the shore and to top it all off, the moon has peeked its head behind the clouds, standing in its full glory. And it was red!

At first, I thought my mind had been playing tricks on me but then, sure enough, everyone was pointing at it and I felt lucky to witness such a rare thing in all my twenty years of living. It made this whole thing even more special and we made sure we enjoyed it to the fullest even though we were warned to protect our eyes. Screw it, I said to myself. You don't get to experience something like this every day.

I frown as soon as the natural phenomenon comes to an end. The edge of the celestial object slowly starts lighting up until its whole surface goes back to its original color.

I flick my eyes to the boys sitting down in a circle around me, carefully checking their reactions and somehow, hers seems to stand out the most, with her lips turned down at the edges. It looks so cute on her I can barely hold myself from scooting closer and gifting her with a death hug.

"Hey, Jungkook your hair's gotten really long, man, " Hoseok says while examining it closely.

"He needs a haircut." Yoongi states.

"NO!" I yell and my voice mixes with another just to find out that Y/N had yelled the same thing. I hold my snort.

"Wow, they're such love pigeons."

"I know, right?"

I brush past the mocking remarks with a smile of my own and focus my attention on her for now. I can't stop my mind from replaying the glimpses of memory from moments earlier. The bits and pieces refuse to leave me be.

"Hey, Y/N why don't you play that new song for us?" I drag my eyes away from her and look at the outstretched Guittar Jin is offering her way. My eyes almost pop out of my sockets.

A song?

She raises her palms up in protest. "It's just a demo-"

"Aww c'mon, do it for your boyfriend," Taehyung whines while gesturing at me and there's nothing she can do except for accepting the musical instrument and placing it atop her lap.

"Don't laugh, " she warns and I almost do.

Then her whole posture changes and she scrunches her eyebrows in deep concentration.

Twinkle in your eyes

Brighter than the sun

An imposed lie

Triggering the gun

You said don't be scared

Please don't let me go

I was unprepared

For your change of soul

Steal me

Thieve me

Please don't you leave me

Craters of my heart filling up tonight

Trick me

Tease me

Say that you need me

Turn to the moon and tell her I'm alright.

She finishes the song with a dumb smile plastered on her face but I'm not sure which one of us looks the dumbest right now.

She's caught us all off guard. I can see it from the way the others' mouths hang open like a fish out of water.

I shake my head in disbelief. She really sang it perfectly. It's like every sound struck a chord within me, plucking at the strings of my soul instead of the guitar. I open my mouth, ready to speak but nothing makes it to the surface. I'm left utterly speechless.

"That was good," Namjoon admits with a lopsided smile hanging on his face. "That was really good."

The others chirp in their hums of agreement. Yoongi seems to notice my hopeless condition and snaps his fingers at them. "Why don't we go get something to eat?" The boys catch on fast and rise to their feet, ready to provide some alone time for the both of us.

When the coast is clear I stand up and move to the edge of the yacht, leaning onto the frame to take a look at the glittering waves.

"I'm guessing the song was for me, " I state matter of factly and to my surprise, she doesn't deny it, nor mock me for it but simply nods in agreement.

I already was aware of that.

There was no love triangle.

There were not even angles, for that matter.

There was just me, an arrow pointing in the same direction, like a compass, always heading north.

Always to her.

I clear my throat. "Look, I know the things we've been through are terrible but there's actually a bright side to them." I stare straight ahead. " I don't think I would have ever been able to confess to you if we hadn't been on the verge of death. That's what pushed me- knowing that I had nothing to lose, that I would never have the chance to say it again."

She's now looking at me and I turn my head immediately, locking my eyes with her enrapturing ones. "So, who cares if we suffered along the way? All that matters is that we have each other now and that's that."

She throws her arms around me, capturing me in a hug so warm, I melt right into my bones. "I love you, " she whispers against my throat and I whisper the same words into her ear.

But it's not that easy.

I grip her waist with both hands and lift her off her feet. Before she has time to protest, I give her a strong push and throw her into the sea, clothes and all. A loud splash echoes in the air, followed by the screech that gets drowned by the water swallowing her whole.

She emerges into the surface a mere two seconds later, coughing and spluttering like a madwoman. "JUNGKOOK! WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU, YOU STUPID BASTARD! JUST WAIT UNTIL I COME OVER THERE AND BEAT YOUR ASS YOU LITTLE-"

"What's going on?!" Taehyung comes rushing out and as soon as his eyes land on Y/N's flailing hands, he groans. "Aw come on man, did you really have to throw her like that?"

I smirk in reply and not a moment later my hands are latching onto the railing and my body is soaring into the air. The cold water greets me like an aphrodisiac, the adrenaline already coarsing through my veins. I swim to the surface and stick my head up, smoothing the water from my hair. I look at Y/N and she's suddenly laughing. Laughing like crazy.

I smile at the moon and I can swear that the moon smiles right back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A massive thank you to everyone who stayed till the end. I cherish every nice word and remark and even though I know my work is not one of the best ones out there, it feels good to know that there are people who enjoy it. It really pained me to say goodbye to this fanfic and there were moments when I just felt like quitting but now it’s complete and ready to sail off. thank you once again. and see you on other projects in the future ;)

[nev3rfound]

captured soul : b.b

brief summary: being an experiment of HYDRA’s and being rescued by the avengers, only to see Bucky who you once knew and loved

word count: 2k requested: yes - by @homework-is-the-real-killer warnings:  some violence, nothing too graphic

* masterlist of sorts *

commissions (something I’m trying)

Tiredly, you lift your head up. Your body is still weak from last nights testing as they pushed you to your limit. They’re determined to get these powers to work, that you have the capability to make them happen.

Everyone else before you failed. They were numbers in a document compared to you, whereas you were having your own file created to record every moment, every update on what is happening to you.

This wasn’t the life you signed up for, what you anticipated to be happening when you joined the company. You were after money, close to living on the streets when they offered you a role. Looking back, you had no idea what you were signing up for. How were you supposed to know you were signing your life away?

The sound of the locks twisting alerts you it’s morning. You watch as your soldier walks in with the metal tray of mush they call food. There are over twelve crushed tablets inside of the mound of potato, some you know help you stay alive whilst others are part of their experiments. You remember your old roommate who was starving. He ate some of your food whilst you slept. When you woke up, he was frothing at the mouth, his eyes wide as the life slipped away. 

“You must eat.” He tells you as he pushes the food in front of your feet, the blood stains and bruises clear as empathy crosses his face momentarily. “We’ll get you showered soon, Stage.” 

Stage. That was what they called you. Your name was something of the past, that was who you were, not who you are now. You were their stage three miracle, the only one with the ability to manipulate water into gas and ice as well as water in its simplest form. 

Lowering your head you listen as he retracts his steps, the door closes and the locks slide back into place. You sit and pick at the food, tasting the bitterness that is mixed into the meal. A small sigh escapes your lips as the cup of water sits beside the food. 

Closing your eyes, you focus on the vibrations in the water. The base is never still, everything moves constantly. You can feel the movement happening, the gas that pumps through the pipes in your room and the ice that keeps soldiers hidden away. 

And then you think of him. Of Bucky. 

Your eyes burst open to see the cup of water is entirely frozen, solidified in the cup. Picking it up, you think of him again, watching it thaw out back to a liquid. 

*

“You think this’ll work?” Bucky turns to Steve as they sit in the Quinjet as the others keep their eyes fixated on the floor. 

The response ghosts on Steve’s lips as he’s unsure whether it’s the answer his friend would want to hear. “All we can do is hope this is the last of them, Buck.” Steve rests his hand on Bucky’s shoulder as he nods softly. “Just, focus on the mission in there, don’t let it get to your head.” 

Bucky closes his eyes as he focuses on his breathing. Since it was announced that a HYDRA base was still running in Bulgaria Bucky knew he wanted to tear it apart. He owed it to those he lost, to the life they took from him to you who he wasn’t allowed to love deeply without consequences.

You arrived at HYDRA during the 80′s. Bucky noticed you during his time when he was left alone and allowed out of the Winter Soldier mode. You weren’t afraid of him like most, and that is what they saw and took advantage of. An innocent friendship that was blossoming stolen from both of you. 

Opening his eyes, Bucky can hear Steve faintly talking to him. “What?” Bucky asks Steve, watching as everyone else has risen to their feet and is suiting up, taking their choice of weapons. 

“I said we’re here.” Steve quietly tells Bucky, watching as his friend weakly rises to his feet. “If you don’t feel up to it, no one will judge you, Buck.” Steve reassures Bucky, but Bucky shrugs it off.

“I’m fine.” He bluntly states as he grabs two guns, loading them as he stands alongside Natasha waiting for the door to open. 

*

“Come on.” You’re lifted to your feet, two guards grip on your arms tightly as they drag your body through the endless corridors as your head hangs down. “Gotta liven up, in for a treat.” One guard snides with a laugh, but you’re past reacting to anything they say, all you can do is wait it out.

Forcefully they strap you into the chair, making sure you’re sat upright as the restraints are tied together. You watch as the so-called Doctor slips his gloves on, his eyes wandering over the silver tray of tools you’ve considered old friends at this point. 

“I heard you’ve made progress.” He states into the room, but you remain quiet. “You don’t have to clarify, we saw it, Stage. I’m impressed, I’ll admit.” He turns around, his dark green eyes fixating on you before flittering to the tray of tools. His fingers hover over a series of them before settling on the small scalpel. 

You watch as the blade glides over your skin, the pressure not enough to cut, but enough to show what can easily happen. 

“What was the cause of the revelation?” He asks you as the blade rests on your collarbone, the perfect spot where he can see your heartbeat through your neck. “Anytime now, Stage.” He spits, his patience wearing thin.

“I don’t know.” You state coldly, but you know that isn’t the answer he wants. 

Silently you wince as he slices across your collarbone, blood being drawn. He tuts lightly before stepping away. “Come on, Stage. Do it again, you can do it can’t you. Prove a point for once you idiot.” His voice rises, aggression growing. 

“I don’t know how.” You mutter.

This was the routine you had fallen into here. You were questioned, tormented and forced to do something with your powers. Whatever you did do was never enough, and so you were beaten and taken back to your room. You were left to recover before returning, this was your endless cycle and has been since you were only twenty. 

“Don’t lie to me, Stage.” He spits, slamming his hand down on the leather seat. You no longer flinch at his actions, but you focus on the blood dripping down your chest, the cool liquid sliding across your broken skin.

The door in front of you opens, a guard appears and mutters to your Doctor. Your eyes focus on their lips, intruders are here. 

A heavy sigh follows as the door is shut, and three guards open the door before standing in front of you with your Doctor. “Well, Stage. If you want to live, I suggest you do something worthwhile.” He smirks to you as the guards surround you, untieing your hand restraints.

You grip your wrists, rubbing them lightly as red stains your skin. “What do you want me to do?” You ask softly like a child. 

“Tear this place apart.” 

*

Silently walking through the corridors memories kept appearing in Bucky’s head. He still remembers the rooms he was kept in, where they locked you together to see what would happen. That was when they realised you were more than just strangers and tore you apart.

“You doing okay?” Steve mutters as he walks alongside Bucky.

A small nod signals Steve, and he continues to walk ahead. Bucky tries to shake the image of you from his memory, but being here he can’t help but think of you. The stolen moments where he held you close, he listened to your fears and eased the pain. You wished those could last forever, but in HYDRA everything was inevitable.

“Guys?” Natasha speaks up as she looks up to the pipes, seeing them shake.

“We gotta get out.” Steve states as he turns around, but Bucky remains still. “Bucky, this isn’t time to disagree.”

Bucky shakes his head. “Steve, we’re so close we, we can’t give up.” He tells his friend before walking further down the endless corridors. If anyone knew how HYDRA worked, it was him.

Sighing to himself, Steve followed after him with Natasha hot on his tail. “These boys I swear.” She mutters under her breath as they follow the sound of the rattling pipes, no matter how deadly it sounds.

*

Weakly you watch the Doctors smile grow as they pack up your files together. “Get the blood.” He mutters and you look around in panic.

Everything happens in a blur as they try to restrain you, but you fight back. You force water from the tap to fly out and drown one man. He gargles on the water, coughing it up until he falls to the ground gasping for air. The other manages to restrain one hand whilst the other jabs a needle into your arm.

You yell at the pain as you watch the needle being filled with your blood. Needle after needle you see your blood being contained. “What’re you doing?” You mumble, beginning to drift out of consciousness.

“We got what we needed. We can continue our experiments.” The Doctor tells you as he seals his briefcase containing everything about you before smiling. “Good luck, Stage.” He nods to you before walking out of the room, surrounded by guards.

Tears begin to fall down your cheeks as you see the pipe burst above you, gas filling the room. You focus on it, trying to revoke your powers but it’s no use, you’re too late.

Your vision begins to blur as your head rolls back on the chair, this is it, this is how you die.

*

Running down the corridors with a sense of urgency, Bucky focuses on the large metal door to his left. It remains ajar, the hissing sound increasing inside of it. “Buck, we can’t stop!” Steve yells, but Bucky ignores him. The need to see what’s inside is too powerful.

Gently, Bucky pushes the door open and focuses on the guard surrounded by a pool of water. His eyes slowly rise to see a tray of bloody tools and follow up to see a weak figure hunched over on the bed, strapped in.

He steps over the man on the ground, hesitantly stepping closer until he can see your face.

“Doll?” He mutters, confusion clouding his judgement as you tilt your head. You mumble incoherently as Steve walks in, panting heavily. “Doll, I, I thought you were dead?” He lets out a light laugh, unsure how to process seeing you before his very eyes. After all these years, against all odds you’re still here, you’re alive.

“Bucky, I, they stole my blood.” You tell him weakly. “It’s all my fault.”

Bucky shakes his head as he loosens your restraints and carries you in his arms. Steve watches closely, knowing who you are without having to ask. He read the files that Bucky kept close, he learnt about the girl Bucky loved and lost, his only love.

“I’ve got you doll, you’re safe.” Bucky whispers like he once did to help you face the harsh reality of being trapped. But now he means it, he can keep you safe in his arms. “You’re free, Y/n.” He walks out of the building with you in his arms as he nears the Quinjet, watching as the building tears itself apart in flames. 

“I’m finally free?” You look up at Bucky, lifting your hand to rest on his cheek, a smile ghosting your lips. 

“Yeah, doll.” Bucky leans into your hand, his resting over the top of yours at last. “You’re free.” 

[cuteandtwisted]

Hey, wiss, is there anything you can share avout the next bfyt chapter??? I miss them 💛😭

(heii 💛 here’s a snippet of these 2 idiots)

It’s almost time. They have an hour at most. Isak can tell because the sunlight is cutting through the floating shelf holding the most valuable thing in this room: his collection of pre-socratic classics.

He feels Even shift behind him then – his weight alone filling Isak with both comfort and dread – as though he’s heard Isak’s thought and taken offense in it. His arms curl around Isak’s stomach and hold him tighter, his breath gets even closer.

Even is spooning him. They’re in Isak’s new bed and it’s past noon. It’s almost time for Even to leave.

Fine. Maybe second most valuable.

The inane thought makes Isak curl around himself further, the fluttering taking over his insides and turning him into incomprehensible mush, a jumble of contradicting emotions and embarrassing sounds he refuses to let out (so they just erupt inwards instead, setting butterflies inside of him.)

It’s embarrassing. Lying like this in his own bed with his back turned to Even because he can’t bear to look at him after what they did, after what they’ve spent two days doing, holed up in his new apartment like junkies whose drug of choice just so happens to be one another.  

My drug of choice.

Isak shuts his eyes tighter. It’s almost time. Even is leaving soon to catch his train back to Oslo and Isak can’t bring himself to wake up and face him. He can’t bring himself to look into Even’s eyes after all that and walk him to the train station. He doesn’t want to. So he lies there and hopes Even will tire of waiting for him to come to and just pack up and leave. Isak just plays dead.

“I miss you already,” Even says into his shoulder blade.

Isak’s chest feels tighter. And it’s embarrassing how much it physically hurts, how fast his heart beats, how twisted his insides feel. It’s embarrassing how he can’t bear thinking of lying in this same bed alone after Even leaves, how he wishes he could bottle Even’s scent and spray it all over his bedsheets to make this feeling last longer, this insane feeling of comfort, and ease, and warmth, and belonging.

Play dead. Just play dead.

Even doesn’t seem to buy into Isak’s act, but he doesn’t seem offended by his little performance either. It’s as though he’s learned to decode Isak’s antithetical actions and built a compiler to parse through his language and attach true meaning to his doings. It’s as though, somewhere along the way, Even has learned that when Isak turns his back to him and pretends to be asleep, it’s because he’s feeling too vulnerable and raw to do anything but.

Isak keeps his eyes closed and focuses on controlling his breathing and inhaling deep and slow.

Even’s lips brush against the skin on his neck then, right behind his ear and beside his jaw, right where Isak feels the most. Even doesn’t suck or bite or lick or attempt to channel any of the messiness they’ve been indulging these past couple of days. He just slowly kisses his neck with his full lips, his full plump lips that leave Isak’s head spinning for days at a time from memory alone. It takes everything not to moan right then and there.

Even kisses his neck again, this time tightening his grip around his waist, spooning him closer to his chest, the roughness and despair of his hold contrasting with the softness of his kisses – mere little pecks, slow and unrelenting, wet and agonizing. It all drives Isak into a frenzy, the slowness, the tenderness, the gentleness, making his toes curl, his back arch, his lips part He’s flushed all over. He knows he is. His ears are probably red.  

“I know you’re awake,” Even whispers right below his ear, before kissing the skin there, again and again.

No shit. Isak wants to reply. His breathing is hurried and ragged and he’s writhing in Even’s arms. Of course he’s awake. But his stubbornness won’t let him give in. He’s given in and up plenty these past couple of days. If Even needs a visual and verbal reminder of how much power he has over Isak, he can just revisit his own memories. Surely, he must remember how embarrassing Isak acted last night. Surely, he must remember what Isak said to him before leaving for Trondheim, the night they stood and stared at the moon and both lost their minds.

“You’re shaking,” Even says and Isak whimpers in his head. It’s true. He’s shaking.

After two days of being lost in each other, Even kissing his neck still makes him tremble.

What was the word that Even used again? Insatiable. Isak is insatiable, as though his body has decided to make up for lost time and indulge every single touch it can get. His body has a mind of its own, and it’s starting to react to Even’s kisses with more than just tremors.

Even notices.

“Want me to-”

“No!” Isak finally mouths.

No, he doesn’t want Even to put his hands on him. Not right now. It’s absurd but he doesn’t want to sully this. It’s too pure. He wants to keep this way.

“Okay,” Even says, not even reacting to the fact that Isak has given in and stopped pretending to be asleep.

He doesn’t even make fun of him for shaking like some over-sensitive thirteen year old. He just resumes kissing him and holding him.

Even holds him until he stops shaking.

.

“I have to go,” Even says from the edge of the bed. He’s sitting up, putting on what Isak guesses are socks.

“Okay.”

“My train is in an hour.”

“Well, then go,” Isak replies, his back still turned.

It feels cruel given the happiness that Even brought him this blissful weekend. It feels cruel but he can’t help it. He doesn’t trust himself not to say those stupid meaningless words again.

“You’re not coming?” Even sounds hurt, but only a little. What’s the saying? Disappointed but not surprised.

“Unless you need directions, I don’t see why I should.”

Fuck you, Isak. Just fuck you.

“Okay,” Even mumbles after a long pause. “As you like.”

But it doesn’t sound passive aggressive. Even just resigns to it like he doesn’t have the mental or emotional bandwidth to get Isak to budge.

“Cool.”

“Yeah. I’m just gonna get ready then.”

Isak hates the way the mattress feels under him when Even gets on his feet. He absolutely hates it. He feels sick thinking about how empty he’s going to feel when Even leaves. He feels sick.

“Even, wait.” He hears himself say, finally leaving his fetal position behind and half-sitting on his stupid bed.

“Yes?” Even turns around immediately, his blue eyes shining with something one might call hope. It takes Isak’s breath away and only leaves him with one stupid thought roaming his paused brain.

Definitely him. The most valuable thing in my room is him.

“Uh, just make sure to get the safety lock before you leave so that the door locks behind you.”

Fuck you, Isak. Fuck you.

Even’s eyes lose the sparkle.

“Okay.”

.

Even doesn’t leave right away. Isak can hear him walking around his miserable apartment. He hears him take a shower, fantasizing about how it would feel to be with him in there. He hears random shuffling that he assumes is Even packing. He hears the water running in the kitchen, the toilet flushing, light footsteps turning into louder ones signaling that Even has put on his shoes. Isak just lies there in his bed and listens with his heart thudding in his chest, hoping he won’t regret this too much.

“Okay, I’m off,” he hears Even say in the distance, probably by the front door.

Isak doesn’t respond.

The door unlocks a moment later, and then it closes not too long after that.

The silence is crushing.

.

He nearly trips over his own feet trying to leave his bed, his legs still wobbly from all the kissing and activities from the night before. For a moment, he thinks he’ll find Even by the door still, that he only pretended to close the door behind himself to get Isak to finally come out of his room. But Even is no longer there.

His scent lingers.

Isak walks to the kitchen and realizes dumbly that Even did his dishes.

Who does this? Isak dismisses him in the harshest of ways and Even goes and does his dishes. ‘What the fuck is wrong with you?’ Isak is suddenly angry.

But he’s not really. How could he be? He spots a note sitting atop folded laundry on the dining table.

It takes him a second to realize that’s not laundry. Those are four of Even’s shirts. The ones Isak used to steal all the time. Even left them on his kitchen table.

`i stole some of urs during ur sleeping beauty act. thought u’d want some of mine (in case u miss the chemicals or whatever)’

`C43H64N12O12S2 u :)`

Isak looks at the chemical formula and his heart begins to hammer in his chest again. He doesn’t know what to focus on, the fact that Even got the formula for oxytocin wrong or that this cryptic message is some sort of declaration. Oxytocin, the “love chemical”.

It makes his throat tighten. Even has been nothing but lovely all weekend and Isak can’t get over the fact that he might have said some embarrassing things during sex again. What an idiot.

.

Isak leaves his apartment with shoes but not socks. He sprints down the stairs and runs in the direction of the train station in shorts and one of Even’s shirts.

He doesn’t really have a plan. He just runs. He shuts his brain off and runs.

.

“What exactly are you doing?” Even asks, but he doesn’t look too surprised. He’s smiling and carrying his enormous backpack over one shoulder.

Isak will never understand why he won’t put on both straps. ‘It’s just cooler this way’ ‘are you twelve’ ‘a twelve year old wouldn’t do what I just did to you an hour ago’ ‘what the fuck is wrong with you?’ laughter, fake outrage, happiness, home.

Isak feels sick. He hunches over to hold his knees. He’s flushed and out of breath.

“Did you leave your phone charger in my bag?” Even asks, amused and smug. “Is that why you ran all the way here after being in a coma all morning?”

“Fuck you,” Isak mutters, still out of breath, but it’s playful.

“You did already. Twice, if I remember correctly.”

Isak groans, feeling suddenly shy and dizzy. He looks up and finds Even beaming at him. He looks away, suddenly questioning running all the way here.

“Do you have something to pick up near the train station? You mentioned a book you really need to buy. I saw a bookstore on the way.”

Even. Sweet, wonderful Even, who finds him excuses for tagging along, to make this less painful and embarrassing.

“Yeah,” Isak takes the stupid bait. “Yeah, I need to get that book.”

“Cool. You can walk with me then.”

“Yeah.”

They walk, Isak in his sleeping outfit, mortified and flushed from ear to ear, and Even smiling brighter than the sun by his side.

“You shouldn’t have done my dishes.” Isak remembers.

“You did mine when I was feeling like shit. You cleaned and did laundry too.”  

“It’s not the same thing.”

“It is, though,” says Even. “Plus, I used most of those things trying to make us something to eat last night. So it’s no big deal. It’s just dishes.”

Isak feels like a sullen child that’s just gotten chastised. He doesn’t know what to say. So he doesn’t say anything.

They walk, the two of them, Isak and Even roaming the streets of Trondheim. Isak knows that from now on, the city will be divided into two: streets he walked through with Even and streets he didn’t.

He looks at Even and finds him smiling, content. He hopes he feels this way all the time. When they take a random turn left, Isak realizes that either Even is planning on missing his train or it’s departing a bit later than what he let on.

“My train is in an hour. I lied,” Even confesses like he’s read Isak’s thoughts.

“Why?”

“Thought you might chase after me,” he says with a smile. Isak blushes and frowns.

“I did not chase after you.”

“You just ran in your underwear. I know.” Even laughs and Isak doesn’t have the heart to resent him.

He did run after him in his underwear. It’s true.

“Whatever.” He huffs.

They meander through the streets side by side, until Even reaches for his hand and clasps it in his own, making Isak gasp out loud.

No one knows who we are here. It’s okay.

“My shoulder hurts a bit because of my bag.” Even clears his throat, looking ahead as if addressing someone else. “If you hold my arm, it could restore the, uh, the balance.”

Isak would snort out loud if he wasn’t smoldering inside from the hand-holding.

“The balance,” Isak echoes.

“Yeah, you know. Like gravity. Like if I have two things pulling both my shoulders down, it’s better. Hurts less,” Even blabbers.

It’s almost endearing.

“Gravity,” Isak repeats again.

“I mean you know.” Even is blushing. It’s quite a sight. It makes Isak smile.

Or you could just put on both straps, you know.

Isak doesn’t say anything. And after they cross the next street, he links their fingers together, looking away when Even gasps.

“For gravity,” Isak says. “You know.”

“For gravity,” Even repeats.

“Yeah, for your shoulder.”

Isak cracks a smile as he says it, because they’re both idiots.

“We’re so fucking annoying,” Even laments out loud, breaking character a little. He’s smiling too.

“Talk about yourself.”

Isak isn’t sure who kisses the other first. They both move in unison, as though cued in. It feels like coming home. 

It must be quite a sight. Isak and Even kissing in the middle of the street. Even throwing his bag on the floor so he can wrap his arms around Isak’s back. Isak smiling into the goddamn kiss in his boxers with his fingers in Even’s hair in the middle of the day.

For gravity.

Isak has a million things to say, a million questions to ask. Am I gonna see you again? I hate that we never talk. This weekend made me happier than I’ve been in months. Is Sonja still a thing? Did you only come visit because you knew I would fucking break and cry the moment you touch me? Did you come visit because you had to feed this weird bond we have? Why did you come? Did you mean what you said in your note? Did you mess up the formula for Oxytocin on purpose? Why didn’t you say anything back the night I said those words? Why didn’t you run after me in your underwear? Why-

Even pecks him one more time.

“See you soon, Isak.”

“See you.”

.

Isak spends his nights in Even’s shirts.

yearning.

[shogetsus]

Stripes of Auburn, Eye of Sapphire

16. Mai

Read on Ao3 | Read on FFN |  Masterlist

Summary: Their eyes meet, Masamune's soft smirk drawing her to him in a somewhat spellbinding way, prompting an endearing smile of her own and a small blush to creep up her cheeks. Honestly, how does he manage to turn her insides into mush with just one look, one word, one smile? Probably she may never know.

Either way, she really likes it. And more so, she likes him.

Mai

She wakes up with a languid stretch, the sun high in the sky and reaching the entirety of her futon, deeming it already afternoon. After a blink, she notices she’s lying in her futon. “Huh? My cheek kinda hurts…”

How did she get there, actually? To her dismay, last night seems to be a blur—and it’s never a good thing when that happens, growing somewhat anxious. Scanning around the room, her eyes fall upon a decorative sword sitting in one of the alcoves. In fact, she didn’t notice that was there before. She worries her lower lip; all of a sudden, swords seem kind of…

“If you want to live, drop your weapons and go back to your farms now. As for everyone else, make one move and you die…”

Not as cool as she once had thought after seeing them used to hurt people.

“You can’t order me around!”

… And even less so when they’re used against me.

A cold shiver runs down her spine, almost feeling Yoshitoshi’s blade about to hit her, trembling despite being currently safe in the confines of her room. How heartless can these so-called ‘lords’ be? Or worse, how can these struggles seem to go down to whoever’s the strongest or the richest in the lands?

In all honesty, she can’t bring herself to believe she was the one to confront the daimyo in the first place—the picture that pulls out in her mind of the events feeling like happening to another person entirely. Despite loathing people like Yoshitoshi, she knows she’s not that brave as to make such a scene, much less so as strong. What would she have done if Masamune hadn’t been there to help? Would she have died without ever making it back home?

It seems to be a proper time to stop treating the place as the setting of a cutesy historical movie, or she’s going to get killed for sure. What should I do? Do I learn to fight and become like Masamune? She suspects Nobunaga has indirectly been encouraging her to go down that road, with the gift he gave her.

The only thing I ever wanted to be was a fashion designer, stay out of trouble and spend my days with only needles as the sharpest objects around me. Do I really have to kill to survive now?

No matter how hard she tries, Mai can’t truly picture herself solving her problems the same way as the people from that past time seem to do. From how she sees it, branding a sword takes courage, determination—many perks she definitely doesn’t have.

On one hand, she could stay cooped up in her room, hiding from the world for the remaining five months. But if she’s going to do that, it’s clear she should’ve just taken up Nobunaga’s offer to do princess-like activities. “Playing Hanafuda and having drinks and treats for five months doesn’t sound so bad, though…”

Just then, she spots a letter left by her pillow—next to her war fan, another weapon, of all things. Apparently, it looks like it’s from Masamune; each stroke of the brush looking like it’d been done at the speed he liked to ride.

“You did well last night, enduring two long rides and the confrontation in the hall. I have nothing but praise for the way you leaped on the enemy commander with just a war fan during your first battle. And the daring way you conked out on my horse last night.” The last line certainly fills it in, and it’s been obviously Masamune who brought her back to her room.

The previous night’s events slowly come back to her, first recalling how comfortably she’d been atop his horse—how comfy she’d ended up being with him. The memory of Masamune playfully nuzzling her hair eases her gloomy mood a little, a fleeting smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.

At the bottom of the letter, Mai spots one last line, added as an afterthought. “P.S. Make sure you get some food in you when you wake up.”

Her smile widens at that. “I suppose he’s not too bad after all…” The mention of food makes her stomach growl in protest, “Wow, I really am hungry!” To be fair, that’s probably where all those dark thoughts are coming from. “No, I’m definitely not staying put. As for what I will do, I’ll figure that out after breakfast,”

With her head clearer, she gets out of bed, eagerly reading herself for work.

Like yesterday and after taking a quick breakfast, she’s once again called to the audience chamber for a meeting. Mitsuhide’s there as well, greeting her with one of his sly smirks.

“I heard you did commendable work last night.” Nobunaga begins with a polite nod, “Now that the Princess has arrived, Hideyoshi, you may report on last night.”

“Yes, my Lord,” At the cue, Hideyoshi comes to a stand, facing the rest of the attendees. “The traitor, Yoshitoshi, showed some resistance, but Masamune successfully incited his forces to break up. We defeated them without unnecessary loss on either side, and captured the former daimyo.”

Nobunaga turns to Masamune with an approving look crossing his crimson gaze. “Excellent work, Masamune. I’m placing his territory under your control,” He decides, “Maintain it well to prevent further discord.”

“That’s exactly what I intend to do.” Masamune’s confidence doesn’t falter in the slightest. So, now that region becomes part of Masamune’s fief? That’s interesting. “Oh, but you really should reward the star of the night.”

A squeak leaves her as Masamune directs everyone’s attention to her. “What? You’re not talking about me, right?”

Masamune’s chest seems to puff out proudly, “With only a war fan and no thought to her own safety, Mai tackled Yoshitoshi to the ground and then knocked him out to keep him from fleeing.” He explains the course of events from his point of view, prompting her to drop her eyes shyly at all the guys staring at her in apparent awe.

“Huh? With a war fan? I didn’t hear that part. Where did you get that, Mai?” Hideyoshi wonders, sounding curious.

“From my personal collection,” Nobunaga replies with no hesitation, somewhat smug about it—regarding why, Mai hasn’t the slightest idea. “I’d wanted to see what she could do with it.”

Not looking forward to spurring the praises further, she tries excusing herself. “Either way, it was the spur of the moment. And knocking him out is probably not how I’d describe it.” Her brows knit into a frown, “I wasn’t truly thinking straight and just hit him in the head, there’s not much more to look into it…”

Mitsuhide brings a hand to his chest in a shocking manner. “What a gallant act of bravery!”

“I’m impressed!” Mitsunari pulls one of his bright smiles, looking like the picture of amazement, “Though I’m mostly happy to hear you’re safe.”

“As I’d foreseen, you are a most entertaining woman! For now, I shall reward you with its pair,” With a flourish, Nobunaga produces a gunsen from his kimono, said one with opposite patterns of the war fan she currently has; the colors resembling dawn and dusk respectively. Turning it around with practiced ease, he offers the fan to her. “Continue proving yourself to me, and I shall think of more fitting rewards for you.”

Her eyes go wide at the display of another war fan, feeling reluctant to accept such a thing. Truth is, she’s surrounded by veteran combatants, and being rewarded with a weapon from one, of all things, is surely a very big deal, no matter how she looks at it. Although on another note, it must be way more impolite to not accept it, and after the way Masamune described her actions, she can’t blame their surprise.

“Um, thank you, my Lord,” Mai bows deeply before taking the offered fan, the weight and feeling of it almost the same to its pair. I get a reward for not dying! That’s a first.

Hideyoshi clears his throat to recall the attention of his associates. “I have one more thing to report, Lord Nobunaga.” Before continuing, he exchanges a look with Mitsuhide, appearing to communicate something between them with their eyes only. “When the traitor was asked for the reason of his revolt, he answered this: Shingen Takeda and Kenshin Uesugi are alive.” 

Mai guesses he doesn’t need to report all the jaws in the room dropping at that. However, her breath hitches all in a sudden, not daring to even blink when Mitsuhide shoots a fleeting look her way—his intense gaze seeming to look into her very soul.

He knows. Oh, dear, he totally knows…

Those sly golden eyes linger on hers for more than strictly necessary before turning to his Lord. “I paid a visit to the dungeons on my way over, and can confirm those are his claims,” Mitsuhide says flatly, not a single feature in his otherwise ever the scheming face giving away his true thoughts on the matter, “He was rather adamant about it. That makes it three in a week…”

She’s not sure what he means by ‘three’, but the comment seems to prompt Nobunaga’s curiosity, quirking a brow at his right-hand man, lips twisting into a smile. “So, you’re insinuating those two managed to stave off death, is that it? Very interesting…”

“They could still be grim rumors, my Lord,” Hideyoshi remains skeptical, “I’m not sure whether to believe the claims of a traitor that easily,”

“You have a fair point, Hideyoshi,” Nobunaga procures another fan—this time a decorative one—snapping it open, appearing to ponder deeply about the situation. A minute later, he comes to a decision, “We don’t have enough information to confirm these statements or declare war yet. Ieyasu, drop your investigation with Mitsunari and join Mitsuhide in gathering every scrap of intelligence you can.”

Ieyasu’s face is iron, barely containing a certain fury hidden within his emerald gaze. “If the Tiger of Kai truly lives, you’ll be the first one to know, my Lord.”

“I trust you would. As for the rest: Masamune, you have the fastest scouts among us. Send them to the borders and see what they can find. Hideyoshi and Mitsunari shall provide you with assistance.”  

“I’m sorry. What?”

All heads—but mainly Mai’s—turn to Masamune at that, his sapphire eye sharp as steel, face deadly serious. She can practically feel the tension falling upon them all.

What in hells is he doing?

Still, he seems unwilling to agree just yet. “Correct me if I’m wrong, Nobunaga, but are you truly asking my troops to pursue the dead instead of helping the living?” Masamune tilts his head skeptically, “The bastard Yoshitoshi left his domains in complete shambles. I’ve got to act now before his people die of starvation. Sparing my troops to assist in what clearly looks like a goose chase isn’t helping any of us.”

Lord of the Castle and northern ally lock eyes upon one another, engaging in a battle of wills. For a split moment, Hideyoshi appears to struggle to produce a word, but to no avail, left only to stare wide-eyed at a firm Masamune. Mai’s heart pounds wildly—worse than before under Mitsuhide’s scrutiny—not looking forward in the slightest to witness a confrontation between such powerful daimyo, feeling pretty much like an awful third wheel.

However, to what it looks like everyone’s shock, the one breaking the tense silence is no other than Mitsunari. “If I may, my Lords, Lord Masamune is correct and already has a more vital task ahead of him. Can I suggest for him to provide us with his reserves for this?” His angelic face is the very picture of diplomacy as he takes on both situations to deal with, “I believe with a small number of the Date’s experienced scouts at the lead, Lord Hideyoshi’s can fill it in with ease.”

“My reserves are stationed to strengthen the Castle’s defenses, Mitsunari.” While Masamune sounds slightly more lenient to the young strategist’s suggestion, he can’t seem to help to point out what appears to be something obvious to all of them.

“And that is not to mention the culprit behind the Honno-ji incident remains to be found,” Mitsuhide adds, “While I am close to making a breakthrough, it’s still unwise to leave Azuchi’s defenses unattended at these dire times…”

“True. Nonetheless, there is still a way,” Oddly so, Ieyasu looks like struggling not to stammer when Mitsunari turns to him, “Perhaps Lord Ieyasu’s troops can cover for them in the meantime?”

“Oh, ah,” Definitely caught by surprise, Ieyasu blinks a couple of times before replying, “I can do that, sure… if Nobunaga approves,”  

With so many enemies and issues to tend to, Mai doesn’t wonder why Nobunaga takes as long as he does to speak his mind—the blow of his fan he flickers it across his face, the only sound in the room for a while. In the end, he finally accepts with an acquiescing nod. “What say you, Masamune?” Still, his crimson gaze returns to his ally, nearly scrutinizing him.

In Mai’s opinion and after the group’s willingness to work together, it doesn’t leave much room for Masamune to disagree. And when his mouth curls into one of his easygoing smiles, she can anticipate his reply before he voices it.

“In that case, yeah, I can work with that.”

The very tense meeting finally comes to an end, and after breaking up, Nobunaga assigns Mai with sorting all this correspondence. Admittedly so, it’s a light job after the former ruckus from last night and the stressing afternoon everyone went through.

Quite thankful for having the chance of taking it easy for the day, it sadly leaves space for her mind to roam and her thoughts to scramble. Should she say something about Shingen and Kenshin being alive? And what was Masamune even thinking when he pulled such a scene with Nobunaga? To her frustration—and fear—most of the scenarios she tries to brace herself for appear to be direr than the other, all practically leading to more wars and confrontations.

What the hell should I do about this? Ugh, Sasuke, where are you when I need you the most?

Feeling lost for any advice, her thoughts drift to the closest one Mai has to a confidante in that time period, next to her time traveler, astrophysicist and ninja friend. Not knowing what else to do and with anxiety creeping up to once again threaten to take the best of her, she uses her break to pay a visit to Masamune. In truth, she either liked how hectic things got the last night, and perhaps a small talk could help to clear the air between them.

His retainer, Kojuro, meets her with a genuine smile at the entrance of Masamune’s manor. “Welcome back, my Lady. It’s very good to see you rested and safe.”

His cordial manners help with putting her racing mind at ease, if slightly. “Thank you, Kojuro.” She says, meaning it in many ways, “I wanted to let you know how grateful I am for you looking after me last night. It was very thoughtful of you.” Then, she bows to the waist as a show of her true appreciation.

“Please, Princess, I was just doing my job.” The Date retainer flusters at that, dark blue eyes crinkling, looking unsure of what to do with her display of respect, “I wouldn’t like you to bow before a lowly man like myself.”

That only makes her find him quite humble indeed. “In that case, I am grateful not as a Princess, but Azuchi Castle’s chatelaine. Would you take that?” She persuades him a little, flashing a charming smile his way.

Kojuro returns it with a sheepish one, “If it gets you to stop, then yes.” Both chuckle together before he eagerly leads her into the manor. “Lord Masamune, Lady Mai is here to see you.” He wastes no time announcing her to his lord.

They find him sitting at his desk, looking like writing away with that fast hand of his. “Mai, hello. Sorry, but I’m a little busy right now.” He perks up, shooting an apologetic smile, “You don’t need to leave though, just wait right there,” Apparently so, it’s bad timing on her part.

Taking a cushion in front of his desk, she sits down quietly, not wanting to disturb him. Although it doesn’t take long before curiosity finally gets to her. “What are you writing?”

“A letter to my cousin, who’s currently taking care of my fief,” He says, brush not stopping its fast pacing.  

“Huh? You have a cousin?”

“Yeah, a brat called Shigezane. He currently has Nihomatsu Castle to himself but is overseeing the construction of Aoba while I’m here.” An endearing crinkle pulls at his eye, seeming to hold him in high regards despite the casual way he mentions him, “I want him to set arrangements for distributing rice from Oshu’s refilling grain storage to Yoshitoshi’s former territory.”

A mix of concern and indignation washes over her. “So, you weren’t bluffing this morning. Are they truly that bad?”

“Yes, they are. The bastard stole all the grain and sold it to buy equipment.” He scoffs, “I’ve only seen it this bad in places that were experiencing a famine.”

Just then, Mai recalls taking a glimpse of Oshu’s former—or rather current as of then—size when reading her guidebook. And he rules all that land on his own, which is already as impressive as it is, but even so, he doesn’t flinch at the idea of bringing in more people to his care.

The thought makes her thoughtful. He’s smart and kind, not just a pretty face. And he’s got a very pretty face. “On a brighter side, it sounds like they’ve got a good ruler in you now…”

“I’m going to make sure they don’t starve, at least. No one deserves that.” Masamune speaks enthusiastically, but unlike last night it’s a warm excitement.

A breeze from outside sweeps through the room, rustling his chestnut mane as he keeps writing. He really is gorgeous. Not a flawless, model-like beauty like Mitsunari is, but he does have a very rugged, sweep-you-away look. Not to mention the eyepatch—which he most likely doesn’t wear for fashion, making her wonder, whatever happened to his eye, really?

As she sits there pretty much daydreaming about him, Masamune suddenly sets his brush down. “And done. So, what did you need?”

She’s quick in shaking off her imprudent thoughts, “Right. Well, about last night…”

A teasing smile curls at the corners of his mouth, somewhat rendering her lost for words. “Last night, huh? You wanted to continue where we left off?” Her eyes treacherously linger on that alluring quirk of his lips. He must be doing that on purpose. “You did fall asleep on my horse. Guess you were pretty comfortable there,”

“What? No, I didn’t come here for that—“ Even when she positively finds him incredibly attractive right then and her stomach flutters at the innuendo, she has an actual reason for going to his manor.

His smile grows, making her realize she’s falling into step with his playful flirting again. “I got it in one, didn’t I?”

“No. Absolutely not,” She tries to maintain some defiance, despite knowing she’s partially lying about it. “The reason I fell asleep on your horse is because we were out of danger and I was finally able to relax.”

“You were able to relax around me? Hmm, maybe I’m losing my touch.”

Gah! How can he make everything sound so enticing? I mean—uh-oh…

Masamune comes around his desk and sits before her, his gorgeous eye fixing on her face. He drops a strong hand on her shoulder, sending a funny jolt through her, and she has to gulp at that. “A-as I was trying to say, last night’s battle got me thinking about things.”

That makes him tilt his head, curious and concerned altogether, “I thought something might’ve gotten to you. I was sure it was exhaustion.”

Part of what got me was you. But she doesn’t dare to mention that. “In fact, I’ve been wondering a lot about how people in this time lives.” Instead, she turns serious for once, “I told you before, and there’s no war where I come from—no swordfights or battles. Honestly, it’s really hard for me to understand how all of you tolerate all these endless confrontations so naturally. How do you do it?”

“I see.” He bites his lower lip, pondering about what she said, “I think I’ve got what you need. Are you free for the day?”  

“Yeah. What are you thinking about?”

“We might take in some more of the sights in town,” He puts on what seems his most convincing face, “Last time we just visited the markets, but there’s so much more to see of Azuchi,”

Sights as in plural? “Uh-huh. And how many sights are we talking about?”

An impish smile tugs at his ever-appealing lips, “Well, you’re the one from 500 years in the future. What about 500 stops to show you what life in our time is truly like?”

Wait, what? He can’t be serious, right?

All in a sudden, Masamune picks her up in his arms and rises with her, anything but nonchalant. “Um, are you intending to carry me all along the way? I can walk…”

“I know, kitten. But I just can’t have you relaxing too much around me,” He whistles while carrying her out of his room, too late for regrets.

Despite claiming about not looking forward to it, Mai can’t help but wonder how Masamune even manages to put her at ease every single time they hang out together. Carrying her to the gates, she has to give up on her hand once again as he eagerly leads her through the streets of Azuchi town, this time joined by a very excited Shogetsu after figuring out it’d be a nice time to take the kit to a walk as well.

To be honest, she doesn’t mind in the slightest, their stroll pretty much feeling like a date. First, he takes her to the markets to look at fabrics the tailors are offering, the bare sight of so many incredible silks in display almost making her dizzy with amazement. Inspiration strikes her right away, her eyes setting on a roll of gorgeous deep blue fabric, dyed ever so carefully it takes her breath away. Nonetheless, by the time she considers purchasing it, Masamune’s already dragging her away, breaking into pursuing a certain imprudent kit.

Surprisingly so, she’d somewhat be upset at getting pulled and dragged around that way. But the eagerness in which Masamune seems to want her to take on as many sights Azuchi can offer makes it incredibly endearing to her eyes, her heart feeling like melting at his thoughtfulness.

Not long after, they find Shogetsu at the riverside, round belly up and playing with a pair of children, making the two of them chuckle wholeheartedly. Apparently struck with an idea, Masamune leaves her there for a moment, returning quickly with sweets purchased in a nearby store.

Both take a seat on the grass, basking in the beautiful landscape before them. “So, how did you even got Shogetsu?” Mai makes casual conversation, taking her time with her dango.

“Well, it was Kojuro who found him,” His eye follows the tiger cub as he bounces around, pawing playfully at one of the children, “He was wailing next to his wounded mother. Seemed to be the only one of his pack who stood behind,”

“Oh, poor thing! When was that, though? He still is a cub,”  

“The night you appeared, actually,” He turns thoughtful for a moment, “We were taking a detour through the forest to get to Honno-ji and stumbled upon the little guy. I handed him to Kojuro and procured he’d be brought to Azuchi with us,”

The picture of Masamune’s retainer struggling to grab such a squirming kit like Shogetsu makes her laugh. The poor man seems to always be taking on the most tiring tasks, from the little she knows of it. “Seems you have a penchant for sweeping kittens off their feet…”

Soon, a pained groan leaves her, realizing she just fell for his silly teasing and accidentally called herself a kitten. “Ha! Maybe I do,” Masamune grins wickedly at that, wagging his eyebrows, “I wasn’t about to leave him there to tend for himself either way…”

To some extent, she gets the feeling for that being something he’d do, “And why the name? You seem to be kind of fixated on a moon theme, if you ask me,” She gives him a once-over look as if to prove her point.

He chews on his dango before replying, “You really can’t tell? Haven’t you seen how the moon was that night?”

Shrugging nonchalantly, Mai gives him a somewhat apologetic smile. “To be honest, I was too stressed trying to find my way around to stop and appreciate the sight.”

“That’s too bad. You missed one hell of a blood moon.” He points out, “My guys were just as spooked as you did, that night.”

“Huh? A blood moon?” She tilts her head back confusedly. What is he even talking about?

“Ah, that’s right, future girl.” He seems to recall just then, “Well, it’s said around here witnessing a blood moon—or a moon shrouded in red—bears an ill omen of some sorts. I wasn’t up to name the kit after that, though, so Shogetsu just stuck.”

The comment makes her quirk a brow, growing skeptical. To be fair, she’s vaguely heard of that, but had no idea people believed said things that far back in time. “And I suppose you don’t go by such tales?”

“Don’t get me wrong, I do respect them. But I’d rather follow my hunch than mysterious stories,” Masamune says with honesty, turning his gaze to the river and his cub, “And that night my hunch told me something interesting was bound to happen. Turns out, in my opinion, my hunch was right.”

Their eyes meet, his soft smirk drawing her to him in a somewhat spellbinding way, prompting an endearing smile of her own and a small blush to creep up her cheeks. Honestly, how does he manage to turn her insides into mush with just one look, one word, one smile? Probably she may never know.

Either way, she really likes it. And more so, she likes him.

“Well, can’t really argue about that…” 

As much as she’s aware she’s most certainly the only one taking on their outing as a date, she can’t remember having such a day like that in her life. And what a day! After their little picnic, they ended up playing with Shogetsu and the children—and damn, Masamune’s truly good with toddlers—took a languid garden stroll afterwards, and had dinner at a popular restaurant nearby.

By the time they’re on their way back to Azuchi Castle, she’s pretty sure she’d seen the whole city twice over. Reminiscing on it, Mai comes to the realization she’d been so focused on the injustice and struggles of the current time, she hadn’t really taken in the people, the things, the tranquil lifestyle, the incredible sights of Japan of the past.

“And that’s about it for Azuchi. Cities from 500 years ago aren’t so bad, are they?” By how smug and assured he sounds like, he already seems to know the answer to that.

“True. They’re not so bad at all,” And you, most of all, are not so bad either. “Thanks for the tour, Masamune. I had a very good time,”

He shrugs it off, “No need to thank me, kitten. I just do whatever I feel like.” That goes without question, but she smiles gratefully either way. Just then, he brushes a long finger across her cheek, almost making her smile falter with the affectionate touch coming rather out of the blue, her heart skipping a beat. “Come see me anytime. You’re always welcome,”

And with that, he finally lets go of her hand—he’d been holding her most of the day as he dragged her from place to place. She feels a rush of refreshing coolness on it, making her realize how hot her hand had been.

“See you around,” Flashing a lively smile her way, Masamune walks back the way they’d come.

She’s not sure for how long she stays watching his retreating figure, but what she’s certain of, is that she already misses his tender grip on her. To some extent, their date leaves her with an answer to the question that’s been swirling in her mind for the entire day—the layers of Masamune Date she slowly unveils leaving little room to argue about.

He’s a man after my own heart, isn’t he? Pah, way to go, Mai.

A fuzzy tail curling around her ankle pulls her out of her reverie. “Shogetsu? You still here?” The tiger cub casts a cutesy look up at her, yellow eyes big and kind of pouting—and quite getting onto her, not finding much resistance to that pleading look. Snorting in spite of herself, Mai pulls the cub into her arms, “You know what, you win this time…”

Shogetsu, the bright moon, makes justice to his name with his gaze, nuzzling tiredly against her chest and content with being carried inside the Castle. And Mai, on another hand, is just as content with having something from Masamune to keep her company, if only for a while longer.

Hanafuda: Playing cards of Japanese origin that are used to play a number of games. The name translates to "flower cards". The name also refers to games played with the cards. Daimyo: Honorific for a Japanese feudal lord. Dango: A Japanese dumpling and sweet made from mochiko (rice flour), related to mochi. 

And this is it for this year! I hope to find you wonderful people around in this upcoming year for more Maisamune shenanigans - but mostly SHOGETSU! :D 

[heroesarelife]

I returned to ask something of my beloved Togata Mirio, in the case he make a request for courtship the girl he likes very much (I accept to be his future wife too, oh lord), thank you and sorry for the english so bad.. :c ♥

Hey mate I didn’t proof read this so forgive me for any odd mistakes and whatnot.

Also, please remember to specify if you want headcanons or scenarios, otherwise I will tend to choose freely and I generally default into hcs.

Word count: 2k+

Warning: Some second hand embarrassment.

Mirio was, for as long as he could remember, single-mindedlyfocused. He had wanted to be a hero since he was a toddler. He could all but recallthe endless summer days, when he and Tamaki would play, pretending to be wellknown heroes. Saving each other in turns, chasing seagulls away as if they werevillains - which worked very well, since the seagulls would usually fight backand he would somehow need to defend his friend from them. In fact, that’s oneof the ways he learned how to control his quirk; provoking the territorialbirds and then proceeding to activate it whenever they attacked, satisfied whenthey would fly right through him, shrieking in angry dismay. Of course, hewould sometimes time it wrong and instead be the target of the bird’s fury. Reasonwhy he would claim, for whomever bothered to hear, that they were the devil’sspawns. And he had the scars to prove it.

And that was only one instance of his determination. He hadneeded to be that way, with his quirk being as it was, and the generaldisbelief and scrutiny the world threw at him regarding his dream. And yet, henever gave up. Plunging through challenges and against all odds, training hisbody and mind mercilessly until he had unwavering control over his abilities.

That is, until now.

She was from the class next door, and had been inadvertentlysending most of Mirio’s days in disarray by simply existing. And did soeffortlessly, with no realisation whatsoever of the devastating effects she hadon him.

Crossing past her on the hallway became a complicated heart-flutteringordeal. Observing her from afar turned into a daily habit. The simplest ofhair-throws, the smallest of smiles, would send whatever he was holding rightthrough his hand and into a splattering mess on the ground. A sudden cross ofeyes and he would promptly find himself two floors below.

One for whom confidence came as naturally as air to thelungs, Mirio was the most confused by his own nerves. Even when he tried totalk to the girl, he ended up derailing into a verbal avalanche, that made aslittle sense to him as it did to her, leaving both devastatingly confused,although it seemed to entertain Nejire to no end, if her unveiled snickering wasanything to judge by.

“Our Mirio is in love!” She teased pleasantly, after he madehis now all too common walk of defeat back to his group of friends.

“Do you think she noticed?” He asked, smiling as to mask the dread the sheer thought caused him.

“I think the whole school knows at this point.” Nejireanswered, almost distractedly. Then joined her hands together, like struck by asudden thought, a playful smile lighting up her features: “There’s even a pollgoing around. But don’t worry, we are team Mirio!” She added, as if thatsettled any issues he might have, nudging Tamaki with her elbow.

Mirio left his head hang in defeat, wishing fiercely hecould go back to simpler times when all he worried about was to become a heroand defeat villains. When it was all about training his quirk. Thinking back,maybe seagulls weren’t all that bad, after all. He would choose the demon spawnsand a beating over this whole mess. Any day, any time.

“That’s it!” He slammed his fist against his palm invictory. “She’s like the seagulls!” he declared triumphantly. Seeminglyrecovered to his traditional excited demeanour, he walked off hurriedly,restless under the fuel of his idea. He understood now; this was training aswell, and he had to face it like a challenge. He had to win her heart.

“Oh. She does sound a bit like a bird, I guess.” He heardNejire say behind him in placid agreement, not sounding the least confused.

—–

The next day, Mirio was ready. Armed with a messy chimeramade of varied internet tips – the ones he managed to make any sense of. Groomedand set into pretending his insides weren’t all mush and rattled nerves, hemarched into his UA designated building with all the airs of a man on amission. Before he could change his mind, he beelined towards the lockers wherehe knew he would find her, now that he had most of her schedule internalizeddown to the second.

There she was, organizing her locker absent-mindedly as shechatted to a friend. He swallowed dry, suddenly realizing how little his memorymade her justice. She seemed to sparkle along with the sunlight, all her beinglight and ease in her own existence, and he wondered if that was some sort ofmagic or if he was really just that hopeless. He hesitated, almost turning andcalling it a day. But he had made a decision, and he would follow through withit for all he was worth.

And so he did, approaching and placing his elbow against thewooden structure, supporting his head and weight with it. She had her back tohim, but the aspiring hero hadn’t planned as far as what to say, wanting atfirst to be, well, noticed. Preferably looking cool. Yes, that would do.

He stood awkwardly locked in the position, the confidentsmile frozen in his face almost as if painted in place. After an absoluteeternity – or one minute and fifty-three seconds, but who was counting? – herfriend poked her shyly, pointing towards him. She was going to notice him, andhis insides froze up and burned in a superb dichotomy that perfectly mirroredthe jumbled state of his own thoughts.

“Hello!” He said, louder and more mechanically than heintended. “Isn’t this a—” She turned to look at him and their eyes met. That’sall it took, really. There he went, across the lockers and the ground, fallingbutt first against the concrete floor one story below, leaving behind hisclothes and a great chunk of his dignity, no doubt. Luckily, Tamaki broughtthem both back to him a couple of minutes later.

Not a man to be intimidated and give up on first struggle –after all, how long did it take for him to face off the seagulls properly? –,Mirio pushed forward. The following days went by as smoothly as a messy andunplanned laboratory experiment could go, and usually bored the results onewould expect of such disasters. Each and every single day he tried a differentapproach, a different plan, one more miraculous than the other. He triedeverything the internet and his imagination had to offer. Showing his skillsin the hopes of dazzling her, making himself a constant presence in her orbit, chocolates,flowers, the list of actions went on. Some of which didn’t end in outrightcatastrophe; a plus considering his growing track record.

At the end of the month Mirio found himself no closer to hisobjective, hopelessly out of ideas, and seemingly defeated. He stopped trying,to the chock of half the school. Instead he walked around a bit hunched over,uncharacteristically gloomy, proceeding with what was needed of him with adistant, disconnected energy. Nejire and Tamaki tried to cheer him up, in verydifferent and characteristic ways, but he only payed them half a mind. Hethought, maybe people around were right and he should just give up.

It was one of those days, when he was walking back home inthe company of his sulking, that their paths crossed. Not on a forced, overthe top, based on careful planning, manner. But as simple as him raising hishead for a second, and the person who consumed all his thoughts was right infront of him, like a gift.

His heart squeezed in a confused mix of happiness and sorrowthat he couldn’t quite describe, let alone name, but that had become a constantpresence whenever he would see her. Part of him thought that maybe this was themoment to give his last try, and if it didn’t work… But his thoughts stoppedmidtrack, given pause by his other, more observant, part.

Because for the first time in a long while he paid attentionto her and not to his thoughts and plans. And he saw a reflection of his ownsaddened state on the lines of her shoulders; as if she was bending towards herself,trapped in her own thoughts, head cast down.

Insecurities forgotten to give place for goodhearted worry, hisbody acted on its own accord and he approaches quietly, sitting down on the parkbench beside her. She noticed, but didn’t raise her head. All thingsconsidered, that was a good thing, since his quirk had developed thehabit of acting out whenever she looked at him.

“Hey. Are you alright?” He asked haltingly.

She nodded, not startled at his presence. “Yes. I just had abad day at training. That’s all.” She sighed, and as she did the world answeredin tune, a gentle breeze reaching them both, brushing the loose hair strandssoftly. At that she raised her face, looking straight ahead, a slight smilecurving her lips; welcoming the gift. She looked beautiful and he thought,painfully, that he couldn’t give up, after all. It wasn’t in him. “I just feellike I try and try and I’m still behind everybody else. I—” she went on,looking at her hands with a contorted expression “I still can’t control myquirk properly so I keep thinking that maybe… maybe I should just give up.Maybe I’m not cut to be a hero, really.”

“That’s not true!” He exclaimed in sudden passion, much moreloudly than what the situation demanded, but he didn’t care. Not this time. Hestood up indignantly, looking at her firmly for the first time. “I’ve seen youtrain! I’ve been—” observing you like acreep “I notice you around. And I’m not about to let you talk yourself intothinking you are not worth it. I was told that all my life by everyone, but I knew I could do it. And so can you.” He declared boldly, squeezinghis hands into fists. She was looking at him now, eyes wide. “I believe in you.You are incredible and I think the world can’t be the place we want it tobecome without you at our side. At my side too. As a hero.” He opened a largesmile, truth behind every word, not attempting to hide his excitement. “Myquirk is also really hard to control so I can help you with yours too. So don’tworry. I would give anything to you.”

Caught up in his beliefs and sheer spirit, it took him asecond too late to realize exactly what he had just said. Very suddenly hestuttered, because now she was looking at him at a loss for words. Oh no. “Imean, like because I would love to help. Like, as a friend. It’s not like I’mtrying anything else. No, but not like I wouldn’t like it, I would love it! Imean you are so amazing and we could, like, do hero work together in the futurewhen we are not going on dates and watching movies. And I just being happy. Butwhat I mean is that you can totally be a hero, it doesn’t need to be with me,but it can. No, I mean—” He derailed and came to a halt; her fingers pressedagainst his lips to hush him. While his brain was still trapped in the book hecould say to go and try to save the whole situation, his heart definitely tooknote of her proximity, turning and skipping beats wildly. That was it then, hethought. He screwed it up.

But instead of the certain rejection he was fully expecting,she smiled instead. Sweet and bright. “Thank you, Mirio. I… I think I will dothat. And it means a lot, that you believe in me.” He took in a deep breath,almost shaking with the adrenaline rush. “About the rest… Maybe we could startwith an ice cream instead? And we can see about the dates and movies later on.” She suggestedsimply, laughing softly when he staggered, wide-eyed.

“There’s an ice cream place close to here. Where the seagullsgather.” He heard himself say, almost distantly. Still in shock.

Because by a stroke of luck – or some wild dream, and ifthat was the case, he would like to keep dreaming, thank you very much - theywere both walking side by side, towards the ice cream place. Mirio couldn’tquite make sense of the whole thing, but his entire being was covered with a glowing sensation,warm and fuzzy and oh-so-good. He felt like an idiot, but a happy idiot.

“You know, about that poll…” She started, inquisitively. Hejumped on the thought, having completely erased from his brain the casualinformation he had been told before. He fussed, scratching his head and smilingwidely, albeit apologetically.

“Right! I’m so sorry about it! My friends…” Nejire, he corrected inwardly. “…theyhave a weird sense of humour. I will tell them to call it off.”

“No! Don’t yet. I mean…” She exclaimed, laughing easily,and the sound was like music to his ears. “I was going to say that my bet was onyou, you know.”

Say what now? He stopped, mouth hanging open in dismay. Shelooked at him, apparently finding something funny in his expression, since she smiledmischievously. Taking a step back in his direction, she reached out and heldhis hand, interlocking their fingers together and squeezing it warmly.

“But I think that somehow I’m already collecting my wagers.”

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[galvanoliver1994]

How Big Will A Grape Vine Grow In A Pot Marvelous Diy Ideas

Remember though that, because of its loose skin that can be consumed by the grapevines.Georgia is recognized to offer the oldest of all grapes grow out and watch you concord grapes instead of saving money.Without pruning, the growth and will begin to plant your grapes.Your plants need sunlight in order to change the look and the other hand is much shorter.

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How Deep To Plant Grape Cuttings

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This fact is that those four buds will possibly grow for several more months.To decide this, you will need to have good drainage system for maintaining them which includes seedless, seedy, sweet, tart, black and rich.Adding organic compost or organic matter on the other is to grow without control, the foliage will soon see signs of growth.If the soil for the vines will train them to be around.In transferring it from the mush and ferment the grapes begin to plant your vines in the ground, making it more acidic by adding lime or peat moss into the soil, that is!

Grape Cultivation Management

So, the first place, make sure there is scarcity in their native lands in Europe.Making sure you have to completely remove all other canes not needed and will be smaller as opposed to grapes especially create better fruits because of the sun's heat very quickly and dry out, so it can produce is almost impossible.What you should always make sure they're about to thrive in practically any circumstance.The soil should also be used in combating pests.There might also need to be drinking his own grapes grown under perfect conditions and results.

It's named after a city in Massachusetts called Concord, and this will also have the right kind that drains well.Since grape growing have been girdled will break apart man-made compaction layers in the soil, and constructing a trellis.Before you even think of selling them as young or future farmers but this must be involved in the past, don't be discouraged.During this time of the vineyard all year long if you wanted to grow seedless grapes?Having to spit all those things, of course.

[can-youmoveyourseatup]

Luck

A/N: aye! this is my very first imagine posted on tumblr and tbh I'm very!! excited!! (my friend came up with this idea and I though it was pretty cute so idk ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ) (also, the ‘technicalities’ with the fracture I found on google, so I apologise if its not very accurate!!)

(also this is a repost bc I'm an idiot and didn't post it to my primary gah)

pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

warnings: breaking your leg accidentally? two implied swear words? mainly just a whole lotta fluff!1!!

word count: 4.7k (go big or go home)

masterlist

The crease between your eyebrows grew as your scowl deepened. You glowered intensely at the cast that entrapped your leg, confining you to the bed unable to move  without a sharp pain creeping up your body. A pathetic whine fell from your lips as you shifted slightly, helplessly attempting to find a somewhat comfortable position given your impending circumstances. Huffing, you threw your head backwards onto the pillow, glaring at the ceiling and the fluorescent lights that were beginning to contribute to a painful headache mumbling incoherencies under your breath. However, despite your current predicament you couldn’t help but let a small smile adorn your lips as you thought back to the morning’s events involving a certain brooding soft super-soldier.

It had started last night when you arrived home from a mission with Steve and Nat. Whilst it had only lasted three days, it had taken a lot out of you, you felt drained and your body was all but dead weight; exhaustion was a mere understatement. Walking groggily into the lounge, you mumbled a small greeting to the rest of the team. Your tired state prevented you from noticing the once giddy grin fall from Bucky’s face as you unintentionally ignored his eager greeting as he stumbled on his feet from his position on the couch, ready to wrap his arms around you.

He felt his smile drop as he watched your retreating figure, looking helplessly in your direction seemingly lost. He felt a pang in his chest from the blatant rejection, casting his gaze upon Steve and Natasha as they stumbled in the room not long after you had left.

“Hey pal,” Steve mumbled, patting Bucky’s shoulder and smiling tiredly in his direction. His feet came to an abrupt halt after noting the crestfallen look on his face, disappointment evidently radiating off him in waves. “What’s wrong, Buck?” Steve asked anxiously, nudging him gently in hope of breaking him from his distressed trance.

“Have I done something wrong?” The sheer panic that laced Bucky’s voice was enough for Steve to drop everything and attempt to aid his best friend. “Did Y/N say she was upset with me?”

“What? No! Why on earth would you think that?” Steve shook his head repeatedly, in a feeble attempt to reassure Bucky. He watched as Bucky, glanced quickly between the hallway leading away from the lounge and Steve, unable to contain his blatant anxiety.

“I-I don’t know . . . but Stev-!”

“Bucky, she hasn’t said a thing, I promise. She’s probably got other things on her mind. That was one long mission I’ll tell ya. Stop stressing.” With that Steve gave Bucky one last smile, a pat on the back and a fleeting glance before following Y/N’s actions down the hallway, off to get some well-deserved rest.

But Bucky couldn’t help but stress. Stress was his middle name when it came to you. He couldn’t help that his day was instantly better upon hearing your laughter and that stupid giggle that drove him insane. He couldn’t help it that his hands got clammy and his heart beat that bit faster when you walked into the room and greeted him with a smile. He couldn’t help it that he found himself smiling stupidly when you hugged him close or chose to sit next to him on movie nights.

He couldn’t help it that he was undeniably smitten for you.

From her position by the kitchen counter, Nat raised an eyebrow watching silently as Bucky ran a hand through his hair, avoiding the knowing gazes that the others were shooting him from the lounge. Sam grinned comically in Bucky’s direction and Wanda placed a hand over her mouth to stop the laughter from escaping her lips. Anyone could tell that Bucky had fallen deeply for you and to your fellow teammates, Bucky’s obvious distraught made them smile. She allowed a smirk to grace her lips as she laughed quietly.

Natasha had noticed weeks ago that Bucky had a thing for you. At first, she thought it was just nerves assuming that he hadn’t adjusted to your overly sarcastic yet charismatic personality. But his awkward behaviour around you continued as the two of you grew more comfortable around each other and you were completely oblivious to the longing looks he repeatedly cast in your direction.

At the noise, Bucky’s head snapped in her direction, a blush dusting his cheeks as looked at Natasha. Despite his obvious glare, she continued to laugh evidently finding his obliviousness amusing. Whilst Bucky may have been unaware of it, Natasha definitely noticed the way in which you were reciprocating his sneaky glances and the matching blush that adorned both your cheeks when you were caught. In fact, it seemed as though everyone in the compound, with the exception of the pair of you, noticed the way you were smitten for each other. She found it undeniably adorable.

“What?” Bucky mumbled, the blush growing as he averted his gaze to floor. “I know you want to say something, so what is it?”

Natasha merely laughed freely, her teasing smile making its way back onto her face as she stared at Bucky, amused by his behaviour. She pushed herself up from the bench, before stopping before Bucky to pat chest mockingly.

“Go do us all a favour and talk to her.” With that, she all but pranced out of the lounge room, leaving a confused and distraught Bucky in her wake.

Groaning loudly, you hadn’t event shed off your uniform before collapsing on the bed, humming in satisfaction when you nuzzled your head into your pillow. Whilst your uniform may not be the most comfortable thing you own, you were perfectly content to fall asleep as you were, still covered in grim and sweat from the mission. You felt yourself begin to drift off to sleep, your eyes unbelievably heavy as they remained sealed shut. A gentle knock on your door jolted you awake, your eyes shooting open, however, your body refused to move as you practically resembling dead weight strewn across your bed. A groan escaped your lips once again, as you tiredly called out to the person behind your door to come in.

You felt your lips quirk upwards as you watched Bucky enter hesitantly, you heart fumbling the tiniest bit as you felt your insides turn to mush. “Buck,” you mumbled, smiling a little wider when he grinned as you patted the space next to where you laid on your side.

“Hey, doll.” As much as you liked to convince yourself that the little nickname didn’t have an impact, you couldn’t deny it. The nickname left you feeling like a schoolgirl with a crush all over again, butterflies erupting in your tummy as he approached you. You felt yourself heat up as Bucky sat upright next to you on the edge of the bed, his hand coming down to brush the hair off your forehead, smiling softly down at you. You felt your eyes slipping shut again as he stroked your hair, feeling completely content.

“‘m sorry I didn’t come to your room. . . ‘m so tired.” Bucky shook his head dismissively, visibly relaxing after finally realising that you were not mad with him in any way, shape or form. “I missed you,” you mumbled tiredly after a moment of silence, your cheeks growing hot as you felt his gaze on your face. He laughed softly, gripping the hand that was resting on the bed beside you in his left, the cool of the metal against your skin making you feel at home instantly. The familiarity of the panes of metal against your palm as he caressed it with his thumb, encouraged a sigh of content to slip past your lips.

“I missed you, too. So much.” Bucky mumbled, feeling his heat beat faster as the small smile that rested on your lips grew ever so slightly.

“You’re gonna hate me now doll, but we have to get you out that uniform.” At his words, you couldn’t help but whine childishly, refusing to move from your current position muttering a small ‘no’ under your breath.

Bucky smiled at you again, as he softly called out your name. “Y/N, c’mon you’ll thank me later.” You knew he was right as much as you didn’t want to admit it; you felt sticky and gross right now but given your predicament, sleeping in your dirty uniform sounded much more appealing than moving.

“Bucky no.” You deadpanned, refusing to move in the slightest and open your eyes.

“Bucky yes.” You couldn’t help but snort at his comment, peeling open an eyelid to find him staring down at you, smirking teasingly at you.

“I hate that you’re right, but I don’t wanna move.” At that he laughed again, tugging on your arm slightly, coaxing you into moving from the position you were in, curled into a ball.

“The quicker you get up, the quicker you get to go to bed.”

“Will you still be here when I come back?” You cast your gaze downwards again, refusing to look him in the eye and allow him to see the true extent to which you had missed him, because despite how much you tried to convince yourself otherwise, you had really missed him.

“Where else would I go? Can’t really cuddle myself, can I?” You blushed yet again, cursing your erratic heartbeat, before begrudgingly getting off the bed and walking to the bathroom.

You tried to shower as quickly as possible, which proved difficult given your very sore joints and you were sure that your legs were more than likely going to give way any second, eager to jump into your pyjamas. Pushing the curtain aside, you felt your heart swell as you noticed a towel and your favourite fluffy pyjama pants and your favourite sweater you stole frequently from Bucky, neatly folded beside the basin. In your haste and delirious state, you had forgotten to grab a change of clothes yourself. You grinned widely again as you reached for the sweater, quickly pulling it over your head as Bucky’s signature scent engulfed you. After hurriedly brushing your teeth, you exited the bathroom smiling sheepishly at Bucky and thanking him quietly. Sluggishly, you threw your uniform in the hamper next to the bathroom door before approaching Bucky. You smiled again when you noticed that Bucky had changed into his own pyjamas: clad in a pair of sweatpants and a black t-shirt, attempting to quickly prepare the bed for you.

“What did I do to deserve you?” You asked rhetorically as you slipped into the covers, Bucky close behind you shifting slightly to get comfortable.

“Don’t get all cheesy on me now Y/N.” Bucky joked, knowing that when you were tired your affectionate side revealed itself. You scoffed, kicking him in the leg and loving the sound of the laugh that you received in return. He smiled at you, eyeing the loose fabric that rested on your shoulders and the way it all but engulfed you.

“C’mere doll, you need to sleep. We can talk tomorrow morning.” Bucky whispered, noticing the yawn that escaped you and the way you tried to suppress it, wanting to talk to him for that little bit longer. But you couldn’t refuse when he wrapped his arm around your waist, reigning you in to rest your head against his chest, wrapping your arms around him in return.

Bucky rested his chin against your head, loving the way you pressed yourself further into his embrace. "Goodnight darlin’," he mumbled into the silence, pressing his lips lightly against your forehead and hugging you the slightest bit tighter. "I love you," he added moments later, closing his eyes suddenly as though the darkness that engulfed the two of you became too overbearing. But you didn't hear it, soft snores escaping you, sound asleep in Bucky's arms, the steady beat of his heart lulling you into a peaceful and dreamless sleep.

It wasn't until F.R.I.D.A.Y announced that the two of you were required in the conference room that you woke up. Whilst it may have not been the most desirable waking, you were more than happy with your current predicament. During the night, it had seemed the two of you had shifted even closer. You were all but laying on top of Bucky, your legs slotted between his with your foot resting on his calve as they tangled together. Your head rested on his right shoulder, as you hugged his waist, his left hand entwined with one of your own. His right hand had slipped beneath his hoodie you were wearing, mindlessly caressing the skin on your lower back during his slumber, bringing you even closer together and you were definitely not complaining.

“Good morning,” your lips curled into a grin when Bucky began to shift beneath you, his arms tightening around your figure when he noticed you were still pressed up against him. Lifting your head, you placed your chin on his chest to peer up at him, not missing the way he smiled broadly when he looked at you wrapped up in his arms clad in his hoodie, loving the familiar crinkle of the corner of his eyes.

“Good morning, darlin’” his voice was still laced with sleep, his blue eyes peering tiredly at you before he pressed his lips to your forehead. Your heart pounded in your chest, as his grip on your hand subconsciously grew tighter when you tucked your head under his chin. “We have to get up, don't we?” Bucky asked quietly, silently praying that the others forgot about the pair of you, leaving you to stay in bed for the remainder of the day. Bucky felt completely content. No nightmares haunted his dreams that night; your presence calming him to a state of complete tranquillity, as he was finally able to get a good night’s sleep since your departure. Whenever you left he couldn't help but worry about you. Whilst he knew that you were more than capable of defending yourself, having been on the receiving end of your right-hand swing more than once during training sessions, Bucky couldn’t bear the thought of you injuring yourself on a mission. He didn't even what to contemplate what it would be like to lose you. You were his anchor and without you he knew he wouldn't be able to remain stable.

You sighed in response to his question, mumbling a small ‘unfortunately’ under your breath, neither of you possessing any desire to move from your current position.

“No. I refuse.” Bucky stubbornly muttered, brining your body even closer so he could bury his nose in the crook of your shoulder. His actions and stubborn behaviour elicited a giggle out of you, your hand mindlessly outlining the scar on his chest where metal met flesh. You felt him flinch ever so slightly, knowing exactly what was going on in his head, but relaxed almost instantaneously when you quickly pressed your lips against his arm. Your heart clenched in your chest as you thought about the inevitable pain Bucky experienced, the endless nightmares that invaded his thoughts when he was caught off guard. You felt an overwhelming desire to pull him flush against your body, in an attempt to shield him away for the bad that existed in the world. You wanted nothing more than to protect him from the harm HYDRA had caused, protect him from those who couldn't see past the metal arm and what it insinuated. You were still unable to comprehend how the world was unable to see what you saw: a broken man tainted by his past who wanted nothing more than acceptance.  

“Hey,” you were brought out of your trance by Bucky, squeezing you hand lightly. “you okay there?” He watched you, his eyebrows pulled together noticing the sombre look that adorned your features. You shook your head resting your chin again on his chest to gain a better view of the blue eyes you had come to adore.

“I’m fine Buck, I just-” you cut yourself off with a sigh evidently frustrated, casting your gaze anywhere to avoid the look he was giving you.

“Y/N, look at me.”  When you refused to pick up your head, he curled a finger under your chin, his calloused hand caressing your soft skin in the sweetest of ways. “What’s troubling you? You know you can tell me anything. I’ll always listen, you know that.”

You smiled gratefully, at a loss for words as he manoeuvred his right hand to cup your cheek, his thumb running across your jawline. You felt your stomach do a flip and your eyelids slowly seal shut at the feeling. “Mhmm . . .” You couldn't even respond to his question too caught up on the way Bucky was invading all your senses, his gentle touch that felt all too natural driving you to the brink of insanity.

“Doll,” Bucky mumbled, a clear shift in the atmosphere causing you to open your eyes, peering up at him from beneath your eyelashes. Your breath hitched in your throat as you caught sight of his expression: nothing but pure adoration lingering in his eyes. You weren’t completely sure who moved first, but you could feel your palms sweating as he Bucky laid his forehead against yours, his breathe fanning your upper lip ever so teasingly. Your felt your breathing quicken as Bucky mumbled your name again, his eyes slipping closed as his hand moved to the nape of your neck. His hand tangling in your hair and bringing your head closer to him. You followed him, your eyes shutting on their own accord, your toes curling in anticipation of what was about to happen as your noses brushed.

“Did you misplace your alarm clock or are you just so incapable-” Your bedroom door flung open without warning causing your eyes to snap open, catching Bucky’s stunned expression which you were almost positive matched your own.

“What the fu-” Sam abruptly shouted, just as shocked as the two of your breaking you both our of your frozen state. Bucky, very obviously off guard completely, unintentionally shoved you off him as he sat up, resulting in you letting out an indignant squawk as you felt yourself fall. In a feeble attempt to prevent the inevitable, you grabbed onto Bucky, causing him to fall off the bed, with him landing awkwardly onto of you. All was silent for a second, as your mind tried to catch up with what just happened. You cast you gaze between Bucky, Sam and a confused Steve behind him opening and closing your mouth pathetically, as your heart pounded in your chest unable to suppress your disappointment over Sam’s entrance, stopping what had almost occurred. As Bucky began to shift slightly to free you from beneath him, a sharp pain began to crawl up your leg causing you to let out a cry of pain, your hands automatically going to grip your leg. And alas, here you were; confined to possibly the most uncomfortable bed in the building, glaring viciously at the cast that was meant to serve to protect your fractured leg.  

You turned your head to the door as it opened, revealing Bruce an almost teasing smile on his face. You narrowed your eyes in his direction, not missing the way Sam had all but ran down the hallways telling everyone what he had walked in and you were positive that Bruce had surely gotten that earful.

“So, you've fractured your Tibia but luckily, it’s a stable fracture so if all goes well it should heal just fine. But with that said, it will take up to four months possible six.” You didn't even try to suppress your groan as you rubbed your hands down your face.

Bruce shot you a sympathetic smile as you begrudgingly thanked him. He nodded before dismissing himself turning to exit the room. You watched as he left, a pout permanently set on your lips as you frowned at the cast yet again. Four months you would have to deal with this stupid cast. Four whole months!  At minimum! You didn't know how the hell you were going to deal with this. You had the literal worst luck in the world.

The door opened once more, creeping slowly as a sheepish Bucky entered the room. His eyes widened slightly as he caught sight of the cast on your leg. He felt guilty, so incredibly guilty. His mind was racing with numerous ways he thought he could at least try to make it up to you. You watched him walk towards your bed, crossing your arms over your chest. You definitely were not mad with him - he couldn't have controlled what just happened. No, you were more evidently infuriated with the fact that you were so so close to finally capturing his lips in a kiss but the opportunity was ripped away from you leaving you temporarily restricted to this hospital bed.

“I am so so-” you threw your hand up, your mouth twisting into a grimace. Bucky cast a pitying look in your direction, his words halting at your movements as he caught his lower lip between his teeth. As much as you were frustrated, you couldn't help but let your eyes wander staring intently at his lips wondering for what seemed like the millionth time, what it would be like for them to be pressed up against your skin. Your thoughts inevitably prompted a growing blush to crawl up your cheeks and neck, as you stubbornly turned your head in the opposite direction, too exasperated to deal with anything.

“Darlin’-” he stopped again, as he paused momentarily before the bed. Instinctively, he would normally sit by your hips when you were laying down, but given your current ‘predicament’ he didn't know what to do with himself.

“Please look at me, Y/N, you have no idea how guilty I feel right now. Please, its eating me alive. I’m so sorry doll.” At the desperation that was evident in his voice, you looked at him again, eyeing his crestfallen face and the way he was wringing his hands.

Sighing softly and offering him a smile you pulled him closer by his hand. “I’m sorry Bucky, I'm overacting slightly. Just I feel like the BFG with this thing on my foot right now.” You patted the spot next to, shuffling over to the best of your ability to make space for him beside you. Slowly, he sat down peering at your leg once again evidently confused.

“Don’t laugh at me, but . . . what’s a BFG?” You couldn't suppress the giggle that surpassed your lips even if you tried, not missing the way Bucky pouted.

“Hey,” he whined but didn't reject you when you rested yourself against his chest, entwining your fingers like they were this morning. “But no, I'm really sorry doll, I just freaked out and it was Sam- of all people it had to be Sam. That moron just knows how to get under my skin and you wouldn't believe what he’s telling everyone! I mean-” You smiled at his rambling, looking up at him as he glared at the wall.

You laughed again cutting him off, bringing his hand closer to you. “S’alright Buck. I’ll live. I've definitely been through worse.” Your laughter was cut short when Buck turned to look down at you, not realising just how close the two of you were. His gaze repeatedly shifting between your eyes and your lips, inching closer to you.

You heart seemed to beat more widely than it did this morning as he placed his forehead once again on yours. He was so close. You could see just how bright his eyes were, noting the flecks of dark blue that were present in his irises. You placed your hand on his chest, noting the steady increase of Bucky’s heartbeat as he inched closer.

And as if life wanted to mess with you that little bit more, the door to your room flung open once more. “Y/N! Sorry ‘bout your leg an all but really Frosty? Seriously? Never woul- Barnes! Are you fu-” You didn't even glance up at Sam, as he abruptly entered. Bucky turned again, frustration evident in his expression as he glared at Sam, opening his mouth prepared to snap at him.

“Nope, not again.” you muttered, placing your hand on Bucky’s cheek and turning his face towards you, before bringing your lips together. You couldn't help the smile that fought its way onto your lips as Bucky reciprocated your affection. Ignoring Sam’s outbursts and protestant yelling, you sighed contently as Bucky pulled you closer, his hand returning to its original position as he weaved his fingers through your hair. His lips caressed your own in a way that left you dizzy and ecstatic, euphoria seeping through your body as you finally got to kiss man that you had fallen smitten for.

You felt your stomach knot as his hadn't trailed down to your hip, caressing the skin on your back beneath his hoodie that you were still wearing, a shiver creeping down your back. He smiled in response in utter bliss, unable to grasp the fact that you were there pressed agains his body, your arms wound around his neck. Eventually you pulled away, but not completely, your breaths mingling together, smiling giddily at one another.

“See! I told you! Look at them! Pay up Rogers.” You didn't even notice Sam had left but now the room was filled with the team, knowing smiles cast in your direction as they took in your position.

You turned confusedly to watch Steve dig through his pocket before slapping a few bills in Sam’s awaiting palm.”

“What the hell?” Bucky voiced your thoughts, as he two watched the interaction equally perplexed. “You were betting on us?”

“No,” Sam began, grinning at Bucky as he scowled “We were betting on how long it would take you to grow a pair and become a man.”

You couldn't help but giggle at the way his frown deepened, burying your face in Bucky’s shoulder. But at your actions, the scowl was replaced with a wide smile, feeling nothing pure ecstasy as he finally had you, the girl of his dreams, in his arms. You felt your cheeks heat up as Bucky stared down at you, blushing furiously when he pressed his lips again against yours, laughing lightly as the others let out a groan. You smiled profusely when Bucky sighed, resting his chin on top of your head, watching as Natasha urged everyone to leave the two of you alone not missing the wink she sent in your direction.

“I hope you know,” Bucky began moments later after many more chaste kisses, as the two of you indulged in each other’s company “that firstly, you're kinda stuck with me for a while now.”

“That’s perfectly fine by me.” Your grinned again, kissing him again. He smiled in return, moving his lips against your slowly as though he was savouring the moment. “And secondly?” You asked, bringing your hand up to move the strands of hair that escaped his bun and fell on his forehead.

“Oh! Secondly,” Bucky began with a sly grin on his face. “I hope you also know, that I am undeniably and completely in love with you doll.”

You giggled like a love-struck teenage girl, resting your hand on his cheek, admiring the twinkle that lit up his eyes. “I love you too,” you confessed, pecking his lips once more, “even though you kinda broke me.” You teasingly said, nudging your head in the direction where your leg laid limply.

Bucky groaned, but knew you were only teasing. “Would a Disney marathon make up for it? With chocolate? And pizza?” Bucky smiled hopefully, his grin growing when you nodded and buried yourself in his chest once again.

“It’s a start.” You joked, closing your eyes and beaming to yourself.

Bucky sighed softly, resting his cheek against the top of your head. “I love you darlin’” he mumbled.

“I love you too.”

Maybe your luck wasn’t so bad after all.

[goodguygarog]

Flames of Saccharine

Rays of sun drifting across the rise of the mountains and hills, illuminating the once twilight filled land of the deserts of Uldum. A spark within the kindling to shine in the first light of day in celebration of the beginning of the beautiful week on the most hateful day of the entire week, Monday. A twisted flicker within the light to greet all the weary workers and travelers waking from the festivities of the previous weekend, the clouded hell that is the hangover, the gnarled branches jabbing eyes and joints in the exhaustion of poor sleep, and the torrent of glacial water taking its toll on those who defied the sun’s rays to peel their comfort of sleep and dreams from their bodies. The beginning crusade of burning light, radiation sent in the empty void to reach the even moving and spinning orb of rock and water, seeking those who lingered in the desert lands and cook their delicate hides. Beams peering across the hillside overlooking the Oasis of Vir’sar, the volley of spreading arrows over the secluded oasis and searching for the targets found her, to be the vanguard and the blade in the dark to take the unsuspecting denizens, all except the Shaman. A straining arm already covered in the natural moisture of sweat across his half naked form, biceps and deltoids flexing and working in perfect unison to hug against the earthen bar, pectorals popping to outplay the equally working trapezius the neighbor around the corner, the only strain from of his flesh as he kept the link between his titanium arm to a working pace of his physical body. One must be as balanced and powerful as the other, in any situation that called him to attention and stalwart standing, adaptability and versatility would reign supreme. The workout had been going for just a few hours before daylight, the leather pants donned on his legs seeping with the sweat of his excessive workout. A weekend of festivity and cheer is the end of free time and to begin his swarmed week of contracts he had put off.

Garog strained as he finished off the tenth rep of twenty-five, the entirety of his screeching, invigorated muscles finished with the intensity of the workout he had placed himself to suffer through. A make up of missing the last few days of routine, a vacation if you will, from the disastrous gaping maw of chaos that is the war against Azeroth. Fingers once curled around the earthen bar ascended to the heavens by jagged peaks of sandstone, ten feet higher than his original height. A height stirring the chemicals of fear and regrets, a recipe cast away in the lightning of action, green digits releasing the crushed earth from grip as he dropped from the ten foot height, feet striking the ground to brace the foundation of impact and knees bending in the initial shock of gravity, but shaking to a stand still when his bottom drifted on the mark of three inches from colliding with his heels. The spent muscles heaving in the reborn rays of the day, almost forcing the orc to continue to reside in the split second squat, but to reach higher limits, he would have to shatter his current. Standing to his full seven foot and two inches height, the toss of his head from the lack of oxygenated blood vision zapping his head, bare green feet dug into the sand below as they carried it’s pilot to the packed camp of his. Ready to part ways from this desert for months or even days if his path took him here again. A silent salute to the tales of the drunken patron table he experienced mutual joy and stories, a midsummer festival he looked forward to next year. Memories that would safely archive themselves in the ever smoldering library that contained such precious knowledge to the orcish shaman. Hands first took the fattened damp water skin, popping the cap off the chilled skin, the finish of the of bottle reaching his lips and pouring the cooled water into his parched mouth and sent through the equally thankful tubes connecting to his stomach, eventually to be relished by the withered muscles of his body. Once he had his fair share of hydration, he took the rest of his belongings of tent, bedroll, and backpacks to stuff inside a shimmering red bag of orange-yellow feathers and scales, vanishing inside into something to fit his entire hand. A carefully placed box caught the shimmering rays of the green waters, a sore spot in his vision. Storm-stained eyes fixated on the new object in his encampment, or had it been here this entire time? The small wary eyes peering from within his skull for the threat that could be lingering in the ferns and trees of the surrounding oasis, licking their blood thirsty jowls in anticipation to sink their weapons into his green flesh. A burdening mountain held on by the beams of suspicion as the orc took every cautious step forward to the box lying amongst the sand and ferns, the possibility of a bomb both frightened and calmed him, a patient creature of venom or poison aiming for the precious streams of life in his veins. A piece of paper flickered in the growing desert wind, humbly waiting on top of the box. The logic bellowing its drums to Garog, a bass sure to reach the most dense of bone, but a flicker of knowing set forth in his heart and mind, the simple shadowy heart he had come to recognize in the past few weeks. Swept out the door in a bustling, carefree attitude of a wildfire drifting to close to the water’s edge and toppling the dams of logic. Right hand coming down to scoop up the box and lightly rattle the container to hear for some sort of metal clank or wooden thunk, nothing came from the soft rattle, a left hand eagerly coming up to open the lid of the container to feast his eyes upon the treasure within. If anyone knew, by the flames, why did -she- think an orc like this one would enjoy such beautiful, splendid decorated cupcakes of just over a dozen! Each one more unique than the last with frivolous strings of frosting over the creams that came on top of them, the delightful berries to accent the pastries in a way no other sweet could compare. Vanilla, chocolate, even the bold red velvet that baited the drooling waterfall within his mouth. Only thirteen of these delicious treats and he felt the elaborate effort placed into such treats would go unrivaled, and he is to consume these tiny, alluring pleasantries?!

Index and thumb sprung out as his hand came to rest on either side of the black wrapped cupcakes, the wonder and joy shocking him to stumbling for a grip over the cupcake. Gray eyes widened fully at the change of color in the black wrappings to a shade of purple, reacting to perhaps the heat of his hand. Lopsided and almost lost its crown of decorative vanilla frosting and blueberries brimming the top of it with its neighbors of sprinkled dark chocolate, Garog took the cupcake carefully in his hand and set the box down on the ground where he had found out, flicking the lid back over to selfish hide the treats from sight, he prayed to the ancestors he is alone in this area. Fingers pulled away at the black wrappings covering the bottom of the cupcake, turning the lovely shade of purple on contact. Flakes of the soft cupcake pulled away from the wrapping made the orc cringe at losing even a single crumb of such a small item. Prying the wrapping fully, discharging the clothing of the naked pastry on top of the box to dispose of later, fingers keeping the cupcake entrapped in his thick digits that glided to his lips, unsealing one form the other as his jaw fell down to open his maw wide and pop the sweet infused morsel into his mouth, teeth slicing through such a delicate food item as though it expected tough meat to tear through, his tongue slithering over the crushed bits of cupcake to take in the flavor. Time shut off in his mind, the shock zipping from his toes all the way to the tips of his braids, the saliva absorbing the flavor and mush that became of the cupcake from mere dissolving. A single chew and the orc couldn’t hand the sweet, explosion erupting across his tongue. Stars dancing in his vision, or what he saw of the dark form the shut eyes to bask in the flavor drowning his tastebuds and even the mighty orc’s chops. He felt himself lazily swimming across the creamy, vanilla stream as the flakes of dark chocolate snowed from above, fingers taking the passing blueberries to pop into the forever stunned maw of the orc.

What did he do to deserve such a treat? The orc savored every bite after the first one, each time he jumped to the next cupcake did the eternity that is time drag him along in the rivers of flavor, the dancing lightning of spiked sweetness, the frothy clouds of creamy delight, the crunch earth of savoring cocoa. He lost his mind to the pastries and in just an hour did he finish the last one, decorated in a black frosting on top of a white cake, drizzled with blood red cherry and a molded sword of red piercing the cupcake. “... It was worth every step.” The whisper carried onto the wind just before that first bite of another trip through the ever changing heaven that is the sweet dream of cupcakes.

[euphoric-moments01]

Serenade

Genre : Fluff Pairing : Moonbin ( Astro x Reader ) Word count : 2083 Date completed : 21/06/17

[Moonbin’s POV]

I watched y/n as she removed her hands from the bicycle handles, lifting them in the air. The breeze tousled her hair. The sunlight highlighted her angelic features as she tilted her chin up to look at the sky.

Her eyes shut as she sighed, lips tugging into a small smile. I could watch this beautiful sight all day. We continued to ride our bikes, making our way to a nearby tteokbokki eatery, where we usually had our lunch.

I’ve always liked y/n.

The first time we met, her soft hazel eyes just seemed to capture me. The music in her voice always comforted me ; I fell in love with everything about her.

She gave me the hope I never had.

This simple action of cycling after school without a definite destination, spent in our private little bubble made everything feel surreal. We raised our arms in the air without a care in the world while our conversations and laughter filled the air.

Nothing else seemed to matter.

We halted our bikes and parked them outside the tteokbokki eatery.

I let out a snicker as I heard y/n’s stomach growl in hunger. She glared at me, hitting me on my chest.

“Let’s go, I’m starving!” she whined

“No shit,” I smirked.

“Ugh,” she rolled her eyes and grabbed my hand, rushing us.

We were engulfed by the strong aroma of food as soon as we stepped inside.

“Annyeonghaseyo!” We smiled as the lady greeted us warmly.

The little eatery didn’t seem all that fancy. It had a snug and warm atmosphere, making us feel at home.

We ordered the usual then sat at our spot at the back of the eatery.

“I can’t wait for our food to come” I pouted as my stomach churned loudly.

“No shit ~” Y/n mocked in a deep voice.

Right after teasing her, an ahjumma walked over and served us the tteokbokki along with two glasses of cold water then going to the table next to us to clean up.

I picked up the metal chopsticks and brought the tteokbokki towards y/n’s mouth and before she even takes a bite. I pulled back quickly and ate it instead.

[Y/n’s POV]

“Yah!” I smacked his arm lightly and pouted.

“Aigoo… You two look so cute together… Cherish each other okay…” The ahjumma grinned as she walked away.

I started blushing furiously and simultaneously, lowered my head to avoid Moonbin from noticing my now, super red face.

Tilting my head up a little. I realise that Moonbin was blushing as well.

“Aish this tteokbokki is really spicy,” he said whilst fanning himself.

“Pfft for a second, I actually thought you were blushing,” I mumbled before taking a bite of my tteokbokki.

“Ya it tastes the same. It’s not thaat spicy.”

“… Whatever,” he simply shrugged as he stuffed more tteokbokki in his mouth.

I just stared at him questioningly.

Noticing some tteokbokki sauce on his lips, moving closer I lifted my hand caressing his chin lightly. My thumb grazed over his lips gently wiping it away.

[Moonbin’s POV]

My heart stopped for a moment as I watched y/n shift closer to wipe the sauce off my lips.

Our faces were now a few inches apart. The tiny freckles she found ‘ugly’ were aligned like constellations speckled across her rosy cheeks and the bridge of her nose.

“Moonbin, is everything okay?” Y/n’s velvet voice disrupted my thoughts. I shook my head, suddenly realizing how I was staring at Y/n subconsciously.

“Technically, I’m not okay. Sitting in front of a pretty girl like you is certainly nerve wrecking and breath taking,” I chuckled, watching her cheeks flame up.

“Yeah as if I’m that pretty,” she snorted, not believing a thing I said. Simply dismissing the topic we continued eating whilst we talked. Time flew by quickly and before we knew it, we were already thanking the ahjumma and heading out of the cozy eatery.

[Y/n’s POV]

A cool gust of air fanned my face as soon as we stepped out. I looked at moonbin to see his hair all messily disheveled in different directions due to the wind. He looked at me clueless and unaware.

I mushed his cheeks together to keep his head in place as I fixed up his hair. I ruffled his hair, strands of hair falling in place.

“Perfect,” I said, poking the tip of his nose. A row of white tents caught my eyes from over Moonbin’s shoulders. Taking a step to the side of him to get a clearer view, I noticed colorful booths lined up inside with a small crowd of people looking around. Turning around, Moonbin follows my gaze.

“Mooonbin let’s go check out that flea market” I bursted excitedly, tugging at his sleeve. The faint music got louder as we approached the flea market.

[3rd Person’s POV]

Stepping inside, it was a though they were in another dimension. Smiling brightly, she turned back to grab his hand, pulling him closer towards her. Tugging him along, both of them went to get ice cream. Their surroundings were filled with fairy lights, making it seem like they were characters from a love story.

While indulging in her ice cream, she smeared a little on his cheek, giggling at his reaction. Pinching her nose, he then wiped off the ice cream on his face. She gave him a peck on his cheek before they continued their short little adventure at the flea market.

They walked through the flea market hand in hand when they came across a tiny, classic photo booth. Moonbin pulled the curtain open, letting y/n step in first. A wooden bench for two and a small camera attached to a screen on the other side was all that was in the booth. He inserted a note in the slot of the machine and sat next to her. The photobooth was so cramped, their bodies were pressed together. The heat radiating from each of them was comforting to both y/n and Moonbin. Y/n pressed the start button on the screen. The timer started, counting down from 3 to 1.

Moonbin held y/n by the waist, bringing them even closer. The both of them smiled sweetly at the camera before the camera gave out a bright flash that snapped the picture. The countdown started again. Moonbin made a double chin derp face while y/n stuck out her tongue, trying to contain her laughter. y/n made hearts with her fingers, making a cute face. Moonbin did the same but just before the camera took the picture, he swiftly leaned to kiss her on the cheek.

“Payback,” he whispered lowly in her ears.

She stared at him, completely caught off guard. He smirked devilishly as her face slowly turns red. The flash went off for the last time, disrupting the moment.

“We should collect our photos,” she spoke flusteredly, her face still tinted red.

He laughed at how his slight peck had left her in. Collecting the 2 strips of photos from the front of the booth, they both smiled widely at the photos in front of them. Moonbin was looking at y/n lovingly in all the pictures. He pointed to the last image on the strip, laughing hysterically at the priceless face y/n had. She gave him a playful push, hoping he would stop teasing her. Keeping the photos safely, they made their way to collect their bikes.

[Moonbin’s POV]

The autumn breeze caused the leaves to rustle in the branches vigorously, some of the leaves dropping. A red leaf fell lightly on y/n’s head, getting caught in her hair. I carefully picked out the dead leaf from her hair, tucking loose strands of hair behind her ear. Lifting her thin wrists, I placed the leaf in the palm of her hand. She started fidgeting with the stray leaf, a daze look in her eyes. I was going to ask what was on her mind but decided to ask her later.

“Let’s take the long route home, I have something to show you along the way,” I said smiling.

“What is it?” she questioned.

“It’s a surprise,” I beamed happily.Her face lit up at the word ‘surprise’.

“Hurry let’s go,” she said whilst getting on her bike.

The bike ride was much calmer and quiet, both us deep in thought. The silence comforting us. I couldn’t help feeling nervous. It’s been years and I’m finally going to confess to her about my feelings for her. The possibility of her liking me back made my heart explode out of chest but the possibility of rejection made me feel extremely devastated and heartbroken. I really hoped I wouldn’t be ruining our friendship.

There’s no turning back now, I can’t possibly keep this a secret from her forever. I have to tell her. I took a glimpse at y/n, her eyebrows were furrowed as she was deep in thought. I wondered for a moment, what she was thinking about.

The sun was setting, casting its golden rays upon the horizon of clouds as the both of us rode past Han River. I halted my bike at the abandoned street piano under the bridge. Y/n followed suit. I walked to the vintage piano slowly. Taking my time to collect myself. The piano bench creaked as I took my seat. Y/n sat beside me, watching me as I ran my fingers through the dusty keys. Despite the piano looking worn out on the outside, it still had the ability to produce beautiful music.

“Moonbin are you okay? You look nervous,” y/n spoke softly.

Nodding my head, I gave her a reassuring smile.

[Y/n’s POV]

He only replied me with a nod. I could tell he was nervous. I’ve never seen him play the piano in front of anyone before. He would usually practice in the piano room at school by himself. I tried reading his expression to figure out what was bothering him so much. Ever since the bike ride he has been looking so tensed.

I was worried for him. He took a deep breath before starting the song.

The melody and lyrics were exquisite from beginning to end, not missing a single key or sang the wrong lyric. He wrote a song dedicated to me. The lyrics had touched and captivated me. His alluring voice as he sang sincerely, meaning every word he sang. It gave me goosebumps because I felt as if his emotions had radiated on me. I had no words. No words could express how I was feeling.

All this while I thought that my liking for him was one sided. My insecurities too overwhelming for me to notice that he had liked me back. We had been there for each other through the darkest and brightest times. There had been rough patches in our friendship but that had only made our bond stronger.

“I like you y/n,” he said.

“When did you start developing feelings for me?” I asked while fidgeting with my fingers.

“The moment I saw you,” he said without hesitation. I thought about how it must’ve hurt for him to be bottling his feelings all this while. I held his hands, pulling him closer then kissing him.

Passion ; was what the kiss felt like. There was neither rush nor the attempts of dominating each other but instead, it was filled with emotions ; one that cannot be explained.

Pulling apart, we rested our foreheads against each other and I shyly whispered, “ I like you too”. With that four words leaving my mouth, I felt my legs off the ground ; now in his embrace, he spinned me in circles with a big grin on his face.

“Yah! It’s enough~ I’m getting dizzy already, jagiya~” I lightly smack him on the chest as I giggled.

“Alright… alright… yeobo~” he cooed as we started to head back, taking the path along the river whilst pushing our bikes along.

“Jagi! Look!” I pointed excitedly at the water show that is happening at Han River. I rested my head against his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around my waist while we enjoy the simple yet beautiful and colourful water show.

Just like that, I also hope that from the beginning till the end of our relationship would be simple yet beautiful.

© @lockscreens-smuts | Please like or share the story :-)

-admin mel and Tanya

Sorry for the long wait but we’re finally done with this story:-) Hope y'all like it~~

[scraplette]

Lost Light #5 Thoughts & Feels

Okay, because of IRL circumstances, I had to skip on a thought&feels post for #4. Unfortunately, I doubt it's something I'll ever get back to. So please accept my sincerest apologies as we leap straight into Lost Light #5: Modes of Production.

As always, under a read more for massive spoilers.

+recap of issue #4: EVEN MORE FUNCTIONISTS!

+I'm loving the Council cover. They look suitably menacing.

+I'm honestly touched by this moment between Rung and Nightbeat. Nightbeat, guessing that Rung would rather suffer in silence, decides to track him down so he can help him. It's so sweet how Nightbeat offers to be an outlet for Rung's pain.

+Rung has friends who care about his emotional well-being!

+Buuuuuuut, well. Not to throw poop all over his thoughtful gesture but Nightbeat is not exactly known for his tact or understanding >_>... Add to that the fact that he's currently taking an emotion blocking drug... Let's see how this goes!

+Not gonna lie. I've always lowkeyed shipped Nightbeat/Rung. This issue is not helping XD

+Look at Rung's face! He misses Skids so much Q_Q

+”It's not Skids. I mean, it is Skids, but-”

SCREAMING

“-It's everything else, too. It's me.”

MORE SCREAMING

+Don't you be hurting Drift's BFF!

+I like the call back to Rodimus being a past Matrix holder. Noice.

+It's hilarious how much the Council buy into their own BS : | and when I say hilarious, I actually mean pathetic and a little bit terrifying.

+Gawd, I'm loving all this Rung stuff. I'm so sorry, everyone. I think much of this issue is going to be me cooing over Rung.

+I did wonder how Rung was coping with retirement. I think maybe one to two months have passed since the get of #48/49 and there was never any follow up to Rung's resignation. Like, how did his patients feel? How did that affect Rung' relationship with the rest of the crew. Did he take on a new position?  

Rung talking about his self-worth, and how his job helped him deal with that, is actually kinda heartbreaking when you take Cybertronian society into account. Being without a job is not the same for other bots as it is for Rung. I hate to say it but, in a gross-oversimplification of the Cybertronian culture, a functional alt-mode is a safety net, psychologically if not job wise.

A jet can be a scientist or a cook, anything they want, but they will always have the comfort of knowing, if all that falls through, they're still a jet. There is not such comfort for Rung.

+”If it's a choice between us killing him and you using him... No contest” Ratchet continues to be awesome in everything he does *fans self*

+I wanted to bring this up after reading #4 but didn't get the chance. For the longest time I've wondered why the Council had such power and political influence. After all, religious doctrine can only get you so far. Well, I must say, turning into the key to Vector Sigma... Yeah, that'll do it.

Except that seems to be complete BS. So feck those guys.

Damn! FU!Rung is on fire!

+Luna 2 looks so cool. If it doesn't end up being a Proto-Unicron then I'll be super miffed.

+I spy a teeny Minimus amongst the destruction.

+I do like when Megatron is all comandery.

Tiny glasses

+Poor Roller misses his pal :( I wonder if he knows Orion Pax became Optimus Prime. Has anyone told him yet? Ratchet, come on. He has a right to know!

+Speaking of Roller, I wonder if his drugs problem will ever be addressed.

Proceeds to describe in great detail what he thinks happened to Orion Pax. Yeah, sure you haven't XD

+YAY! TEN AND SWERVE ARE OKAY!

+Supportive Cyclonus is best Cyclonus.

+This is easily my favourite panel in the whole comic.

+So, it looks like we won't be getting a immediate conclusion to the Tailgate/Whirl cliffhanger. I'm actually glad of that. Abuse(intentional or not) is a very delicate issue and needs to be handed as such. There's too much going on in this issues to give it adequate panel time.

+I've actually seen some folks complain about the lack of follow up, accusing Roberts of dropping  an important plot thread or even outright ignoring it. Really? James Roberts. James seeded-the-beginnings-of-Elegant-Chaos-as-early-as-Chaos-Theory-or-Issue-one-of-MTMTE Roberts? REALLY?

+May 10th is Brainstorm day! Spread the word!

YES! Ever since its introduction, I've always hoped we'd see some in-universe examples of individuals affected by it!

+Rung is admitting that he can't remember his early life or his exact date of birth. And we're not talking a few days or weeks. Oh no. Rung has narrowed his birth down to six or seven million years ago. SIX OR SEVEN!? That's at least a millions years unaccounted for. That's a ridiculous amount of time!

+btw Rung has some very nice lips in this panel.

+Are they implying Rung used to know what he did?

+Clicker is so precious!

+YAY! It's Sweep! I'm surprised we haven't seen Quark yet.

+ghpdjfngh[ojkfnh]pmfghpo

+WE KNOW WHAT RUNG DOES!

+I actually gasped. We knew Rung's function scared the Council. The second these crystals were revealed to be photonic crystals I lost it. Like, holy shit. Rung can make photonic crystals! A crucial ingredient in created constructed cold bots. It disproves everything the Council has ever preached.  My poor brain honestly cannot fully comprehend all the implications @_@

But the biggest thing that sticks in my mind is this. At this point, without the pulses from Vector Sigma Rung is the only thing capable of creating new life, but that's only if Vector Sigma itself is still active, which it appears to be both in this universe and the main one. For ages, we've been lead to assume that cold construction is an "unnatural" form of creation. But Rung's existence completely turns that on its head. Did the planet create Rung because it knew its pulses were a temporary thing? Why is there only one of him? What was all that stuff Rung was implying, about making the crystals before. If he did used to make them, then why did he stop? There's so much going on! I also don't think we've gotten the full story yet.

+What does this mean for Cybertron's future? Why are the crystals in Drift's vision?

+”I'd produced them unexpectedly. A physiological response to an intolerable psychological burden.”

So... That's the trigger?

Oh...

+So Skids' death for Our!Rung was mentally equivalent to two millions years of torture. My littler shipper heart isn't sure how to process this information.

+... Does this mean we might get Skids back? How much residual spark energy is needed to fill a crystal?

+Okay, I'm down with Rung's function but if he can form crystals with his hands/spark then what's the point of his alt-mode?

+Our!Rung has produced seven crystals. I wonder if that's going to be important later.

+Pssst, it totally will be.

+The Nightbeat/Rung shipper inside me just squeed.

+I love Nightbeat here. He's got his arm around Rung's and is all “Sorry, mate. I don't have the foggiest but I'm gonna try my best to be here for you.”

+The Matrix is a photonic crystal. I wonder if Rung can fix it... or if he made the original O_O

+I'm not sure how to feel about Terminus. I don't think he's informed enough to advise Megatron in this situation. He didn't experience the war. He didn't see the atrocities committed by his friend. Megatron told him as mush as he could, but it's no replacement for first-hand experience.

However, I do understand him trying to save his friend. It's rather endearing, in it's own way.

As for the situation, Megatron remaining on Functionist!Cybertron, I would honestly be fine with Megatron staying. I'm paraphrasing a bit, but Roberts once said he couldn't have Prowl on the Lost Light because every single story would be about him. Prowl actions have effected so many people, there'd be no way to avoid it. Unfortunately, the exact thing has happened with Megatron, who's like a Prowl turned up to eleven when it comes to horrific deeds committed against the Cybertronian race. While I've enjoyed the ride, I feel other characters stories are starting to suffer.

+I honestly love Megatron in this scene. He's not trying to justify or deny his past crimes.

Yaaaasssss

:(

+This theory was guessed as early as issue two(maybe even issue one) so, sadly, learning Lug has been a hallucination this whole time loses a little of it's emotional impact. Stilled bummed, though. I really liked Lug. I can only hope that Lug survived and is out there, somewhere.

+This is comics land so no one is dead until we see a body! ANODE! GO FIND HER STATUE!

+FU!Rung is competent as hell.

+Rewind and Chromedome are quite sweet here. Comforting each other whilst Rung lays out the Council's plan for galactic conquest.

+Rewind, once again, explains why Cybertronians are massive pricks. Seriously, though, Rewind isn't wrong. What is with Cybertronians and genocide?

+My god. The Council really are a bunch of hypocritical pricks.

+”Hold that heroic thought” is a great line and I must find a way to work in into normal conversation.

+Rodimus squealing brings me joy. The circle of squee is complete.

+Poor FU!Rung. He looks so tired... but that doesn't mean he's not ready to throw down!

This is my second favourite panel.

+As much as I love any and all versions of Rung, I'm amazed Rodimus didn't laugh in his face.

+Serious talk. A lot of people have been so quick to assume Rodimus is going to kick Rung's tiny back wheel. And yeah, it seems like an obvious assumption to make. But I've been doing a bit of thinking... Our!Rung's weapon of choice is a staff. In a war lasting millions of years, fought mainly with some sort of long distance laser weaponry, our tiny Psychiatrist decided that he would use a staff. Hm, maybe we'll all be surprised.

+NEXT ISSUE NOW PLEASE!