#telling jokes to ease the tension is Literally The Most Normal Thing Ever

[msnihilist]

My controversial Ben 10 opinion is that the people who idealize AF S1–2 as the perfect characterization of Ben don't want to accept that he's fucking boring.

Not Ben himself, of course. He's still silly and impulsive and a huge dork. But, narratively speaking, what is there to do with him?

Really. Stop and think about it for a second. AF Ben is pretty much perfect. He's mature, he's a good leader, he's an accomplished fighter who thinks outside of the box and has solved a number of conflicts without fighting. He doesn't really have room to grow — he's already damn near reached his full potential.

It's fine when there's a big, overarching plot for him to focus on/overcome, but the series wanted to be a little bit more episodic, and AF Ben just doesn't carry those episodes — not in a fun way, at least. "The Gauntlet" and "Alone Together" are great character-driven episodes, but I wouldn't call them fun.

AF S3, whether you agree with the characterization shift or not, not only makes sense for Ben's character but provides a new avenue down which to explore it.

I mean, what would have happened in S3 E1 if Ben's characterization hadn't changed? He wouldn't have agreed with Kevin on hacking the Omnitrix, for one. Kevin never would have been mutated and we wouldn't have had that trigger to explore Kevin's character and his budding relationship with Gwen — episodes like "In Charm's Way" and "Trade-Off!" (both of which are great for this) wouldn't have happened.

Ben wouldn't have had a problem to overcome, and he would have kicked Vilgax's ass as soundly and easily as he always has before.

Which is good, in-universe, but makes for a pretty uneventful episode when this is a TV show that's supposed to be entertaining.

I literally just don't understand why people have a problem with Ben's character having more layers.

Ben's cocky attitude has always been shown to be a façade. When things get serious, so does he — in "The Final Battle," the Ultimate Kevin arc, the Malware arc... Even when no one is around to impress, like during "The Ultimate Sacrifice" and "Malefactor."

AF 1–2 Ben isn't gone — not even close. He's just hidden under a layer of self-flagellation and false arrogance because, beneath all of it, Ben is and always has been a scared kid who's just doing the best he can to keep everyone safe.

[captains-simp]

Can I get a request where Yelena's dating R and has been for a while because things are going great but Natasha (being the protective big sister she is) realllllyyyy doesn't like R and R keeps making things worse because Nat intimidates her and all bdaksnakwk😭 and she finally accepts R when she gets caught up in a mission somehow and almost dies for Yelena🥺

Nat simps: Nat doesn't like the relationship because she's jealous

Me: n-no

Nat simps: she actually loves R😃

Me: guys no-

Nat simps: but-

Me: N O

(You guys are getting a big Natasha fic after this, calm your tits🙄)

3.6k words

Warnings: graphic injury description, implied torture and murder

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"My sister does not hate you." Yelena chuckled as she opened the car door and stepped out. You stayed put for a second, staring up at the Avenger's tower as you chewed your lower lip.

"She definitely does." You mumbled as you stepped out of the car yourself. Yelena held her hand out for you to take, marginally helping your nerves when she gave it a reassuring squeeze. She noticed your silence and tried again.

"Okay maybe she's not your biggest fan right now but she'll warm up to you. I did." The blonde winked. You bit back a smile and rolled your eyes. "The others sure as hell love you." You hummed in response, you couldn't argue with that. You got on with the other heroes like a house on fire. "And I love you." Yelena said earnestly as you stopped outside the main door for your girlfriend to plant a soft, quick, kiss on your lips.

"I love you too." You said with a smile.

"There she is." She grinned back as she stroked your cheek with her index finger. "Now come on, I'm starving."

"You ate that bag of M&Ms in the car." You laughed as Yelena led you through the building. The blonde scoffed.

"They only half fill them, y/n." She complained. "So it was half a bag." It was hard to argue with that logic. 

You made your way through to the top floor of the building, all while holding onto the expensive wine bottle you bought. Your hands were sweating so much so you held onto the bottle with both hands, not trusting your grip. The last thing you needed was to smash it on any of Tony's expensive carpets. You were met with a round of laughter when the elevator doors opened, presenting the Avengers all sat around the living area. Their eyes turned to you and Yelena with wide smiles and they all shouted hellos across the room. Wanda gave you a warm hug as Yelena high fived Bucky and you felt your nerves soften. 

"She's just finishing up." Wanda said knowingly. You wondered for a brief second if she had taken a peek into your mind but when you looked at the redhead she was smiling reassuringly at you and you realized it must have been obvious that you were anxious to see her again. Unlike Yelena, everyone else could tell you were Natasha's least favourite person. "For what it's worth she seems to be in a pretty good mood tonight." Wanda assured.

"Whose in a pretty good mood tonight?" Came the voice you had been dreading to hear. Natasha strolled into the living room with a content smile on her face but halted in her tracks once she saw you. You locked eyes for longer than you were comfortable with but you were determined not to look away. Sometimes you thought that if you asserted yourself more then maybe Natasha would at least respect you. Today wasn't the day for that because you looked away quicker than you would have hoped to. In your defence, it was really hard to maintain eye contact with the Black Widow. 

"What's she doing here?" Natasha spat. Oh. You winced as you rubbed the back of your neck, clearly the Russian wasn't aware that you were attending the dinner too. 

"I told you she was coming." Yelena said as she strolled towards her sister and gave her a bear hug. Natasha continued to glare at you from over her sister's shoulder. 

"I thought you were meant to be on a mission."

"Luckily it was over by lunch." You smiled weakly. "Meant there was still brownie left in the cafeteria." You laughed awkwardly but Natasha didn't respond. 

"If you want, I could give you the recipe for my brownies." Wanda said in an attempt to ease the overwhelming tension in the room. The Sokovian was always the best at that and you were sure it was entirely down to her calm demeanour.

"Really?" You asked hopefully as you all made your way to the dinner table. You avoided Natasha's eyes the whole time but consequently ended up taking a seat opposite her. You froze when you sat down, already under her heated gaze once again. You gulped thickly and turned to Yelena while you tried to ignore the pair of emerald eyes burning holes into the side of your head.

The rest of the dinner wasn't altogether awkward but it wasn't the most comfortable you'd ever been. Natasha didn't acknowledge you, though it was rare that she did, and you both engaged in separate conversations with the rest of the team. You had never known if there was a particular reason the redhead didn't like you. You guessed it was down to her being protective of her little sister, something you could understand given all they had been through. But you would never hurt your girlfriend, in fact you would do anything to avoid that. So it bothered you that there was nothing you could do to sway Natasha's opinion of you, because you had literally tried everything. You had been dating her sister for six months. Surely if she was going to accept you it would have happened already. 

When dinner was finished Natasha excused herself as Yelena picked up some plates and took them to the kitchen. You were hooked on a story Sam was telling when they left, both your elbows on the table as your face rested in your hands, eagerly waiting for Sam to reveal how he was able to escape a whole squadron of planes with a malfunctioning suit. As a S.H.I.E.L.D agent, you didn’t get to experience half the things the Avengers did. Sure, you had had some crazy missions and your fair share of close calls, but their stories always won. 

Once Sam dramatically finished his story with some over the top sound effects, you noticed Yelena had missed a few plates and still wasn’t back. With the dishes in your hands, you made your way to the kitchen, soon hearing the strong accent of your girlfriend. “You're being unfair.” She scolded with a hushed aggression. 

“I’m trying to protect you, Lena.” Natasha’s voice fired back. Your ears pricked up at the verb and you were unsure of whether or not to leave the plates on a near table and go or stay to hear about the apparent threat your girlfriend was facing. “She’s going to get herself killed.”

“Oh and you’ve never done something reckless?” Reckless. That was a word you had seen in your S.H.I.E.L.D assessment reports enough times to get a vague idea of who the pair were talking about. Natasha being on the opposing side proved the point more. “When will you drop this?”

“You couldn’t have just dated a normal civilian? Or at least an agent that manages to not get themselves in harm's way on the way to the paper copier.” Well that was hardly accurate. S.H.I.E.L.D didn’t use paper copiers. 

“You know maybe if you spent less time being a bitch to her and more time actually getting to know her you would understand why I love her.” Yelena said in a more disappointed tone, most of the frustration drained away from exhaustion. You wondered how long they had been talking about this. Or if they had before. Yelena always acted like there wasn’t any tension between you and her sister. Maybe she thought if she ignored it things would sort themselves out. 

There was a heavy silence over the room so with a pang of guilt, you stepped out from behind the wall with the plates still in your hands, fauxing mild surprise when you saw them both, like you didn’t even know they were still there. If they saw through your act, they didn’t say anything. “Thanks, just put them there.” The blonde smiled and pointed at the counter near her. Natasha stayed silent as she watched you from the other side of the room. It always felt like she was studying you for any sign of a weakness when she looked at you, waiting to spot something she could use to strike. 

“You need a hand?” You asked as you spied the excessive bubbles in the sink that coaxed your girlfriend’s forearms. “Before you break something.” You joked and watched as Yelena’s cheeks tinted pink as she remembered the shattered glass in the bin at home. 

“She’s capable.” Natasha interrupted with stone cold glare. 

“That’s okay, detka (babe).” Yelena mumbled and kissed your cheek. “I’m just finishing up.” She said before looking briefly at her sister. “Then we’re going.”

*

To no surprise of your own, Natasha didn’t get any friendly towards you after what you could only assume wasn’t the first discussion the sister’s had had about you. In fact it got considerably worse; not straight away though, that came a few weeks after when the pair came rushing into the cafeteria. Yelena marched in the room with her eyes set on you as the redhead followed by her side, exclaiming something wildly with her hands. 

“This is insane. Yelena!” Unfortunately for Natasha, her sister’s stubbornness fiercely rivaled her own. 

“Hey, detka.” Yelena smiled as she sat down on the seat in front of you. You gave a small wave as you finished chewing your sandwich, eyeing the pair cautiously. Natasha continued to stand with her arms crossed, mumbling under her breath in Russian. “You busy now?” 

“Not really.” You shrugged and brushed the crumbs off your hands.

“Yelena, no.”

“Zamolchi (shut up)!” The blonde fired back. “That’s great,I could really use a hand on a mission.”

“I will go with you.” Natasha insisted but Yelena shooed her away distractedly. “They know who you are, it won’t work.” She hissed.

“That’s why disguises exist!” Natasha yelled, gaining the attention of every other S.H.I.E.L.D agent in the room. 

“It won’t work.” Your girlfriend said firmly, her choice was already made and set in stone. 

“Okay.” You shrugged and immediately fell under Natasha’s most heated glare. 

“Don’t you dare.” She gritted. “There are thousands of agents in this base alone and you’re picking the single most reckless one who will get you killed.” The redhead continued but Yelena, unlike you, wasn’t fazed. 

“Great, go pack your stuff.” Yelena cheered.

“Right now?”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t fucking move.” Your body betrayed you, keeping you glued to your seat in fear of what method, of the hundreds the widow knew, she would choose to kill you if you stood up. 

“I don’t trust anyone else to do this.” Yelena said earnestly to her sister. Natasha considered her sister carefully but still looked unconvinced when her younger sister gave a frustrated huff and took you by the hand to drag you to your feet and past her sister who surprisingly didn’t follow after you both. 

As your girlfriend led you down the halls she explained the basis of the mission, telling you how you were to set up a last minute buy with a high profile weapons smuggler. Annoyingly, that was how he worked, telling buyers the location and time of a deal at the last minute. Beneficially, he was a smug prick who only believed in carrying out deals on his own. While he would be armed, there would be no one else with him, making yours and Yelena’s job easier. Yelena was the sniper, shooting to kill. S.H.I.E.L.D had tried apprehending the guy alive but it always ended in casualties and they were finally done with going easy. 

You considered it all when you were changing into the outfit Yelena had given you, planning what exactly you could say to the dealer to get him to the specific part of the warehouse that Yelena could shoot at. You were buttoning up your white blouse when the door swung open and Natasha stepped through. “You sure you can handle this?” She asked right off the bat. 

“I’ve been through my training just like everyone else here, Natasha. I know you don’t think I’m capable but I’ve been on my fair share of missions and I know protocol and-”

“Just keep her safe.” The Russian said. You blinked and opened your mouth to speak but couldn’t find the words.

“I don’t care if Baros comes out of there in a body bag or in a limo.” You blinked again and continued with your shirt as you decided to just listen to Natasha. “But if one hair on Yelena’s head is harmed I will make you live to regret it for the remainder of your long and very painful days.” She said darkly and you could only nod dumbly. Natasha studied you for a long moment before turning around to head out of the room far less dramatically as she had entered. 

“She trusts me for a reason.” You couldn’t help but call out as the redhead opened the door. She glanced at you for a second and left as she called over her shoulder to you. 

“I don’t.”

*

“Do you want to get take out tonight? I was thinking that new Chinese place around the corner.” Yelena spoke clearly but she might as well have been thinking aloud because you couldn’t respond. She knew that of course. She knew that you speaking would ruin your cover if Baros had cameras set up around you. “So that’s a yes on the Chinese?” She continued. Okay she was definitely doing it because she knew you couldn’t respond. “Detka there’s no need for you to insist on paying. I owe you one right now.” You bit back a smile until the warehouse doors opened and Baros stepped through, watching you eagerly. 

“So nice of you to join me.” You deadpanned. You couldn’t help it. The guy literally chose the time and he was still half an hour late.

“Yes, my apologies.” Baros said in a very unapologetic tone. “Something came up.” He muttered as he placed a large box on the table and unlocked it with an 8 digit code although you were sure there was a lot more to it than that. Not that you cared about his weapons right now. “Now I hear I have something you’re interested in.” 

With that, the sale began. At first you thought you were in luck. Baros made a habit of strolling around the room as he explained various weapons that you pretended to be interested in, but he never went to the spot Yelena could shoot. It became irritating very quickly. You walked around too in an attempt to lead him to wear you needed him but he always backed off at the last second. You heard Yelena groan into the earpiece a few times too. 

“Is there anything here that’s of interest to you? Or are you more concerned with listening to whoever’s on the other end of that earpiece?” Your eyes snapped to Baros as he watched you curiously. “Where is she?” He asked coldly. Your earpiece wasn’t meant to be visible and the thought that Baros had found a way to get around S.H.I.E.L.D’s technology concerned you greatly. 

“I don’t know who you’re talking about, I’m here alone.” You swallowed thickly. Baros gave a throaty laugh in response, some primal hunting impulse starting up. 

“I’ve killed every S.H.I.E.L.D agent that has come after me, you and your friend will be no different. Now where is she?”

You wanted to charge at Baros. To knock him to the ground and wrap your hands tightly around his throat and squeeze long and tight enough to make him regret ever threatening your girlfriend. Except you couldn’t move. It wasn’t a fear induced freeze up like you had gotten from Natasha’s glares a few times. There was a much larger and more dangerous obstacle that stopped you moving. Something toxic. Baros gave another manic laugh as he watched that realisation dawn on you. But really, what was panicking you most was that Yelena had been silent for a long time. 

“You see, Agent l/n, while you were trying your hardest to get me to play your game, I was beating you at my own. I’ve grown immune to the toxin that’s been circulating the room since your arrival.” You trembled as you dropped to your knees and fell onto your side, only able to watch and listen. “And what your friend sees is a mere projection of us continuing business, audio included of course, so she won’t be coming to get you anytime soon.” You exhaled as heavily as you could in relief at the knowledge that Yelena was safe.

“Now where were we?” Baros asked as he knelt down besides you and lifted your head up, placing the flat of a blade against your cheek. “Oh yes, you were just about to tell me about the other one.”

“Go...to...hell.” You grimace, every word spoken feeling like one of the hardest things you had ever done. 

“I’m sure you’ll feel as though you’re there very shortly.” He muttered as the knife very slowly started to dig into your skin.

*

You had no idea how long you were with Baros, how long since he had first started slicing your skin, how long your bones had been broken or even how long since you had first started to cough up blood, most of it staying in your mouth because of your weak diaphragm. You had exceeded your limit long ago, only using your energy to make the occasional snarky comment that made the next attack harsher. You couldn’t seem to stop yourself. It made you feel like you had some control, as did the fact that you never said a word about Yelena.

A gargled scream was ripped from you when Baros pressed the burning hot knife against your latest stab wound, cauterising it to stop you bleeding out and keep you alive for as long as he needed you. A sickening smile crept onto his lips as he watched your eyes fill with tears once again and leant back once he was done. Much to your long awaited relief, that smile was wiped from his face when a spray of red erupted in front of you, shortly followed by Baros dropping to the ground next to you, dead on the spot he had accidentally stood in. 

You didn’t trust your relief, you didn’t trust yourself not to be hallucinated after the endless hours of torture, even when a heavily armed S.H.I.E.L.D team flooded into the room. A few gathered around you, asking questions you couldn’t quite understand as bright white lights filled your vision. Then you were being lifted into the air, not aware of the fabric of the stretcher beneath you until the back of your hand dropped onto it. You managed a small trace of a smile before you passed out. 

*

There was an arm draped across your stomach when you woke up. It was the first thing you felt, a fact that you were extremely grateful for. You blinked frantically a few times before you turned to look at your girlfriend sleeping by your side on the hospital bed. You smiled at the sight of her peaceful form and tucked some stray hairs behind her ear softly, careful not to wake her. You were glad you cherished that moment of peace and relief, because it wasn’t long before you had more company.

You took your hand away from Yelena’s face when Natasha walked in, settling to keep it by your side, although there was nothing you could do about the arm that was squished between yours and your girlfriend’s body. “I tried my best-” you started but Natasha shook her head. 

“You...you did great, y/n.” You smiled sheepishly, sure there were some drugs in your system. “No one could have done any better.” She said as her eyes flickered to the cuts on your face. “So thank you.”

“It was no trouble at all.” You shrugged. Natasha rolled her eyes but smiled faintly, something you never thought you would see directed at you. “I’d never let anything happen to her.” You said honestly. The redhead nodded as she looked at her sister.

“I know that now. I was just scared, I can’t loose her again and you have to admit you’re not the most reliable person on the planet.” You blushed and looked away. “But I trust you now and I’m sorry I doubted you.” She apologised sincerely.

“No harm, no foul.” You joked again, truly not knowing how you were meant to act around the Russian now that you were finally in her good books.

“Don’t make me regret this.” Natasha warned with a smirk. You chuckled lightly and watched as she made to leave. “You should get some rest.” She advised and you nodded but frowned when she was nearly out the door.

“How’d she know?” You asked, making Natasha turn back to you with a quirk of her brow. “That something wasn’t right.” The redhead smiled and shook her head.

“You hadn’t made a smart ass comment in ten minutes.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

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[honeymoonjin]

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader || ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 5.9k || ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut - rated 18+

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ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: cursing, panic attack

A/N: apologies for my tgm crimes here but i gotta keep you on your toes since you have the old plan. also i'm not going to spoil anything but day 25 has one of my fav scenes in the show so far ;;-; so please enjoy this chapter and i will continue to work hard to finish the following one and get back into the posting routine!

DAY TWENTY-FOUR

You’re roused from sleep by the feathered sensation of fingertips on your jaw. Twitching slightly, you try and move away from it, burrowing deeper into the warm, gently rocking pillow your head is propped up on.

Before you can slip back under, however, the fingers give one last attack: a sudden flick to your cheek that echoes with a thwack. You flinch and furrow your brows, grumbling your displeasure since your words haven’t quite found you yet.

“Get up, sleepyhead, unless you’d rather I just piss in the bed.”

That’ll do it. You shoot up so quickly your vision swims, one side of your face feeling cold without the comfort of Yoongi’s chest. “Fuck you, go pee,” you slur, eyes still half-closed, the morning glare peeking through a gap in his curtains.

Yoongi happily but hurriedly trots off to the bathroom, giving you a moment of respite to collect yourself. It takes a few moments to recall the previous night, not just the way Yoongi’s voice had made you cum in your room, but also the way it later lulled you to sleep as he told you hushed stories of his childhood or anecdotes from his days as a sex education teacher.

You can even hear his voice now, just barely slipping under the crack of the door, humming and singing under his breath as he washes his hands.

When he finally exits, you’re propped up by pillows, duvet tucked over your knees and eyes crinkled fondly at his bedhead.

“Oh, no,” he starts with a frown, “you better get that look off of your face.”

Your smile drops. “What?”

Taming his hair with a few flat strokes, he shakes his head. “I need somebody sane in this house to talk to. You aren’t allowed to fall in love with me, it’s conflict of interest.”

Mouth dropping open, it takes you a few minutes to note the subtle curl to his lips. “You dick! I’m certainly not planning on it, don’t flatter yourself.”

“Hey,” he defends in a drawl, no attempt at modesty as he shucks his pyjamas before browsing his chest of drawers, “it’s been done before. You come for the massive dick and stay for the massive heart.” He pauses, shoulder muscles flexing as he reaches in to a drawer, pulling out a pair of dark wash jeans. “Stop looking at my ass, I’m trying to lecture you.”

On the contrary, you lower your gaze and narrow in on it. “You’re starting to develop a little bubble butt, Yoongi. It’s very cute.” Not leaving him time to protest, you barrel on. “Besides, your dick isn’t that big.”

“That’s only because you’re comparing mine to hyung���s. And Namjoon’s. And… And Jungkook’s, I guess. And-” Suddenly he cuts himself off, throwing himself back on the bed with his back hunched in despair. “Fuck, do I have a small dick?”

“Mm, not really,” you dismiss easily, deciding to finally get out of bed and pick out your own clothes - selecting them from Yoongi’s drawers, of course. He makes no protest, still staring blankly at the jeans in his hands. “You just have steep competition here. There’s nothing wrong with small dicks, either. They’re cute.”

Now visible from your angle, Yoongi’s face twists in a grimace. “But my dick isn’t small, right?”

You shrug, slipping on one of his FG shirts and a pair of sweatpants loose enough that you have to knot the drawstrings. “If it helps you sleep at night.”

He spares one somber glance down between his legs before he slips on a pair of underwear, finally stepping into the jeans. There’s a brief period of comfortable silence, before he lets out a small sigh. “Can I… Can I confess something to you?”

Although a quip would be easy enough to say, you sense the joking is over. “Of course, Yoongi,” you assure instead, sitting cross-legged on the unmade bed beside him. He doesn’t meet your eye, busying himself with slipping a shirt over his head. “What’s up?”

Once he’s fully dressed, he still keeps his eyes low. “When you- On Monday, when you voted out Jin-hyung. I was so glad.”

You pause for a moment. “Because you wanted him out of the competition?” you venture, but he shakes his head dully.

“Because I thought he might look at me again if he didn’t have you.”

Something sinks in your stomach, cold enough to make you shiver. The guilt in Yoongi’s voice doesn’t conceal the open vulnerability of his expression as he fiddles with his bitten fingernails. “What do you mean, Yoongi?”

“What him and I had earlier wasn’t healthy, I know that,” he defends to himself, “but… I still miss it. I miss him. But even when I spoke to him after the elimination, all he would talk about was you. And I can’t even be mad, because I get it. And I- If I’m honest,” he murmurs, feet scuffing restlessly on the carpet, “I don’t even know what I’m wanting to achieve by telling you this, but I couldn’t stand not having anybody know about it. I never wanted it to get this messy. I told myself I wouldn’t let my feelings get caught up. But I think a little heartbreak would be worth it, for him. Is that stupid?”

You feel so unanchored, like there’s nothing for you to grab onto to steady yourself. More so, you feel entirely incapable of helping your friend like you so desperately want to. “It’s not stupid,” you begin, reaching out to cup one of his hands snugly between the two of yours, head resting on his shoulder in solidarity, “and I’m so sorry. Does he- does he know you feel this way?”

“I don’t think so,” Yoongi admits in a low voice, leaning into your touch. “If he does, then he must not like me since he’s not acknowledging it. And if he doesn’t, then he must have never even considered me like that. I know I was a distraction at best.”

You knit your brows together, deep in thought to try and find the right words to say. “Or perhaps he knows and he’s respecting your boundaries by letting you initiate, especially since he was the one who took advantage of you last time. And perhaps he doesn’t know, and it’s only because he’s so caught up in his own feelings that he hasn’t considered that you may feel the same. You just don’t know these things, Yoongi. I didn’t know how you felt either until you told me.”

He nods slowly, jerkily. “Yeah,” he says weakly. “Jungkook said almost the exact same thing, actually.”

You pull back slowly, curiosity colouring your tone. “Jungkook?”

Yoongi manages a shy smile, cheeks colouring slightly. “He approached me. We- we talk a lot, way more than hyung and I ever did. I know Kookie has a crush on me, and we said we’d take things slow, but dammit, I can’t help but like the kid.”

You let a surprised laugh bubble up your throat. “That- I was not expecting that, but I’m so glad, Yoongi. Even if you don’t have Jin, I’m glad you’re letting yourself be happy with others.”

His smile falters. “Is it greedy that liking Jungkook doesn’t make me want Jin-hyung any less?”

You go still, thinking of your own blooming feelings for... Well, for most of the people in this house, if not - at least a little bit - all of them. “I don’t know,” you answer honestly. “I’d like to think not.”

Yoongi lifts his gaze to you, carefully studying your face. “Do you ever worry,” he begins, so softly that you have to strain to make the words out, “that our feelings have been set up. By the show, I mean.” His brows furrow deeper. “We’re living in a practical paradise - luxurious house with no real jobs, our food is paid for, we’re literally getting rewarded to have sex. It’s so artificial, you know? So who’s to say that our feelings are artificial, too? I- I’ve been thinking about that a lot,” he admits with a pensive stare.

You can’t lie. You nod. “I’d like to think not,” you repeat hollowly, “but… I mean, yeah, this feels like some alternate reality, and thinking of any of you in normal, mundane, real-life scenarios seems so strange. Like, can you picture Hoseok sitting down and doing his taxes?”

Yoongi snorts, shaking his head in bemusement as a line of tension eases from his shoulders. “I hope he hires an accountant. I certainly wouldn’t trust him with my money.”

You let out a deep sigh and fall backwards onto the duvet, air punched out of you on impact. “The thing is, Yoongi,” you declare in a matter-of-fact tone, “we have no way of knowing what life will be like once all this is wrapped up so why even bother worrying?”

He turns slightly, just enough to watch you warily over his shoulder. “Maybe because I could get my heart broken?”

You pout at him. “Tell me how that’s any different from developing a crush in real life?”

He opens his mouth, furrows his brows, and closes it again. “I- Ugh. Fuck you for being correct.”

Pleased with yourself, you hide your grin as you playfully knock his side with your foot, making him recoil with a groan. “Be as cautious or as impulsive as you want, but even if all this is fake, you could’ve just as easily developed those feelings outside of the show. Like come on, if you saw Jin in the grocery store don’t tell me you wouldn’t fall in love on sight!”

Yoongi shakes his head again, a wry smile playing at his lips. “I see your point… and now I’m picturing Jin getting groceries and looking hot doing it...wow.”

You cackle at the dazed look on Yoongi’s face, using his arm to pull yourself up off the bed, patting him on the shoulder. “Good talk, champ. I’m off to chow down on the leftover pork from last night. Care to join me?”

His eyes glitter, but the doctor declines. “Yoonji said she blackmailed one of the production team to bring her fried chicken from her favourite place. She’s hiding it in the bunk room, but you didn’t hear that from me. She’s selling some to me for a small fortune, the little devil.”

“Less than half a week here and she’s already set up a black market,” you muse, “I think I may be in love with her, Yoongi.”

“Don’t you dare.”

--

While the kitchen is empty when you first arrive, it only takes the sizzle of pork belly in a saucepan to draw your roommates down.

Jin is first, silently rummaging in the pantry and fridge for some side dishes to add to the mix. In return, you begin boiling some hot water, adding instant coffee mix to two mugs.

As the others join, the line of mugs and glasses on the kitchen island grows, until even the two Min twins are hovering in the kitchen, looking suspicously still hungry after their illicit breakfast.

There aren’t enough chairs at the table to seat you all, but luckily Taehyung and Jungkook are happy hunched over the bench in the kitchen, sharing a set of Airpods and snickering at a seemingly endless stream of TikToks.

At the table, Namjoon, Hoseok and Yoongi chow down on their meals, the latter with a considerably smaller portion made up mostly of meat. Yoonji and Jimin are on either side of you, with Jin on one end, chewing slow to savour each bite.

It’s the first time in a while that you’ve all shared breakfast at the same time, and you’re struck with a deep feeling of fondness at this little family-like group you’re living with.  Jimin sneaks extra strips of meat or spoonfuls of rice into your bowl when he thinks you’re not looking; Hoseok listens enthusiastically to Namjoon’s explanation of a summer school course he’s taking, even as he has to ask for clarification just about every second sentence; Yoongi splits his time between checking up on the two maknaes with a soft look, and scowling at his sister’s teasing comments.

“Any plans for the day?” Yoonji asks suddenly, tugging you out of your musings. She’s dressed sleekly in a black velvet mock neck shirt and high waisted denim shorts, her face as stark a resemblance to her brother as ever, with two sharp lines of black on her lids being the only visible makeup. “Except, I suppose, the mandatory fucking.”

You huff with pink cheeks, never growing used to hearing it so openly. “The days kinda blur together a little when you have no real responsibilities,” you admit, “I should probably find a hobby or something.”

Yoonji’s eyes crinkle in faux empathy. “Oh, honey, you’re gonna be so out of it when you return to the real world. You all will,” she adds, before shrugging, “except maybe Namjoon. Seems like academia doesn’t stop for anyone.”

You can’t help but agree. “He has more brain cells in his pinky finger than I do in my own body,” you swear, “he could break an arm and still type a thesis one-handed.”

Halfway through a mouthful of food, you’re rewarded to the ungraceful yet endlessly endearing sound of her snorting, a hand cupped over her mouth. After swallowing, she turns towards you to respond. “I haven’t known him for long, but that seems to check out. He’s quite the character, huh?”

You don’t miss the meaningful lilt to her voice, nor the quirk of a sharp brow. “He’s a good guy,” you reply under your breath, gaze darting down the table to where the man himself is engaged in an intensely enthusiastic discussion (okay, closer to a TedTalk) with Hoseok, now using pieces of meat to create an abstract diagram in his otherwise empty bowl. The latter looks bewildered, but is nonetheless paying deep attention to every word.

It’s impossible not to feel soft inside as you look at the pair of them, all complementary contrast. Hoseok with his slender nose and harsh facial structure and Namjoon with a round, gentle face. One of them dressed in sleek black and the other in oversized earth tones, the typically reserved one animated and the bubbly one focused in. It had taken you barely a month of shared living to become completely fond of these men, not just Namjoon and Hoseok but all of them, and as much as it was nice to have someone new in the Villa for a while, Yoonji’s presence makes you more aware of the fact that you and the seven guys had developed a certain equilibrium that seemed slightly off-balance with the change.

It makes you worry about what other disturbances this delicate system could hold, and if returning to the real world would be a shift large enough to permanently upend it.

Wishing to dispel the pessimistic narrative beginning to form, you focus in on Yoonji again. “Anyways,” you start, “how are you finding the Villa so far?”

“Certainly an interesting look behind the veil, though it’s really not ideal having to-” Yoonji’s cut off by the chirp of an incoming message on her phone. “Sorry, one sec,” she mumbles absentmindedly, but you don’t miss the way her face falls when she reads the message, immediately glancing directly across the table to where her brother sits.

To your growing concern, Yoongi is also reading a message on his phone, and he quietly excuses himself from the table, leaving his bowl half-eaten. He jerks his head towards the front door, and Yoonji manages a quick apology before they’re leaving the room.

All startled out of their separate conversations, the remaining members of the household sit in confused silence, enough that even Taehyung and Jungkook turn around from their phones.

“What’s going on?” Jungkook asks in a worried voice. “Where’s Yoongi-hyung?”

Nobody replies, Jin just shaking his head with a grim frown and leaving the table himself, going after them.

“Guys,” Taehyung says more insistently, eyes not leaving the empty seats at the table.

“They both got a text,” you say with furrowed brows, “Yoongi and Yoonji. Must’ve been bad news, judging by their faces.”

“Jin-hyung’ll find out what’s going on,” Namjoon assures, though it sounds more like he’s trying to convince himself, “let’s just clean up for them and wait for an update. Yeah?”

The two youngest nod solemnly, still with a single Airpod each bobbing in their opposite ears.

For a while, the group of you remaining sit in silence, as if caught up in some spell that would only be broken once Jin returned with some answers. The absence of Yoongi at the table is so much more pronounced, and you can’t help but feel the sickening worry swirl inside you when you look at his bowl, chopsticks strewn carelessly beside it.

Everyone is just waiting for bad news. You’ve felt this looming dread before, and it either came with a swoop of relief or a blow of despair. Your teeth find your thumbnail as you wait helplessly to see which one it’ll be.

It feels like an eternity before the door finally opens, making everyone jump, but only a few minutes have really passed. Jin is panting slightly, like he ran back from wherever Yoongi disappeared to.

“He’s-” he starts quickly, before a tremor passes over his face and he grimaces, jogging over and falling heavily into his chair at the table, face in his hands. “Their dad is in hospital. Heart attack.”

“Oh my god,” Namjoon breathes, brows knit together in sympathy. “Is he okay? Was it serious?”

Jin shrugs, looking up enough to run his hand over his face and take a shaky breath. “He’s alright for now, but apparently they need to make sure it doesn’t repeat anytime soon. If he settles, he’ll be fine, but there’s a chance that he might suffer another attack. Yoongi and Yoonji are going to the hospital now to stay with him until they’re more certain he’s stable. Just in case.”

“When is he coming back? Yoongi-hyung?” Jungkook’s eyes are wide, shiny. He can’t stop fiddling with his fingers, self-soothing.

“Not for a while, I don’t think,” Jin divulges with a pained expression. “He needs to be there for his family right now. That’s all I know, I’m sorry.”

The front door creaks, and all of you instinctively whip your heads towards it, as if Yoongi himself might be returning already, but you’re greeted with the weary face of Producer Sejin, joining you at the table, taking Yoongi’s old spot. Taehyung frowns deeply at the choice, turning his face away.

“What’s going on?” you ask quickly. “What happens to Yoongi? And us?”

“Yoongi is… He was in a rush to get going, understandably, so we didn’t speak in great depth. But he in short stated that he’d return when his father was in better health if the place was still open for him. I’ve got in contact with the higher-ups, and we’ve agreed to put the show on a temporary hold.”

“On hold?” Jungkook asks in a nervous voice. “What does that even mean?”

Sejin clears his throat stiffly and clicks his tongue. “Well. It means we’re putting a stop to the game for now, in short. If Yoongi is able to return by the end of the week, we’ll resume as usual. Otherwise, we’ll consider him to have permanently left the competition, and we’ll be forced to continue the game without him.”

You frown, fighting the urge to cry. This all feels so wrong, like he’s been taken from you with little hope of reunion, and discussing it like administration feels so clinical. “So we’re just sitting here, not knowing if he’s going to come back home, waiting around in limbo?” As soon as you finish, it feels like the word home lingers in the air longer than the rest of them. And perhaps this house doesn’t feel like home to you, but it certainly seems like six of the seven pieces of home are around you right now, and it’s not the same without him away. By the way the others are solemn and red-eyed, you probably aren’t the only one that’s begun feeling that way.

Sejin just shakes his head slowly, as subdued as you all are. “Listen, I know this isn’t ideal. The boss wanted to film it, make a big drama out of it, and then kick him off the show for views. I’m doing the best I can here to compromise and give him some dignity.”

Eyes widening, you stare at the round eyes of the cameras in the living room. “Are you- are you even allowed to say that?”

“I cut the camera feeds,” Sejin says in a defeated tone, “the show is officially off-air for technical difficulties. You can do what you want here while you wait - hell, you can leave if you want, just please be prepared to come back on the Sunday. We’ll have a discussion about whether Yoongi can return, and what we’ll do if he doesn’t. Understood?”

“Understood,” Namjoon offers up for the group, and the producer leaves with another sigh and an attempt at a comforting smile. You can’t help but feel bad for him, working such an emotionally draining job, especially when you’ve heard nothing but bad things about his employer.

Once the room falls into quiet again, Jin stands up, chair legs scraping against the floor. “Okay, I think we should decide as a group what we’re wanting to do. Stay or go?”

You open your mouth to give your two cents, but before you can, Jungkook suddenly chokes on a sob and covers his face with his hands, Jimin immediately scooting his chair closer to wrap an arm around his shaking shoulders.

“Hey, what is it?” Jimin asks quietly, but the room is so silent that you all catch it. “Talk to me, bun. What is it?”

Jungkook takes a few stuttering breaths to compose himself, sniffling. “I don’t want you all to leave too,” he confesses, Jimin’s thumb catching a tear dangling on the tip of his nose, “isn’t Yoongi-hyung enough?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” the elder promises, pressing a kiss into his hairline before looking up at the rest of you, eyes widening intentionally. “We’ll stick together through this until he comes back, yeah? It’s not all bad. The cameras are off, remember? We can have a break now, we don’t need to worry about the show. Isn’t that nice?”

After a moment’s considering, Jungkook nods slowly. “‘t is nice,” he admits begrudgingly. “But only if everyone stays.”

You can’t help but smile fondly, getting up yourself to come behind him, stroking his hair back. “We’ll stay, of course we’ll stay. Let’s spend some time together tonight, we can put on a movie and snuggle, how about that?”

He perks up at the thought of this, glancing around the table as the others nod in affirmation. “I’ll bring down the blankets,” he bargains, cracking a small smile, and the rest of the room relaxes, immediately bursting into sound as everyone arranges the necessary supplies for a good quality movie night, almost back to normal.

Jungkook, as the member of the Villa in most urgent need of a pick-me-up, is given movie choosing privileges, so the seven of you tuck in for a rewatch of his favourite Spiderman movies, perhaps the only thing that can keep him glued to the screen.

At first, the absence feels overwhelming to you. Try as you might through the opening sequence, you can’t shake it. Your mind counts heads without thinking, keeps looking at the space on the couch where Yoongi liked to put his feet up. Even though you know it’s his father who is unwell, not him, there’s the sick swelling in your stomach that makes you feel like his departure is final, and shortly after the title card plays out, you’re quietly excusing yourself and stumbling to the back door, in desperate need of fresh air.

It’s cold outside, a brisk wind cutting through you. You barely make it around the corner out of sight before your legs buckle, and you let yourself fall into a pathetic crouch, your weight propped up against the side of the house as you try to suck the chilled air into your lungs.

The panic creeps up on you in swells, the irrational fear that Yoongi would leave the show and you’d never see him again and everything would fall apart suddenly feeling like a whole tsunami crashing against you. Your fingers claw at the exterior wall as you fall back onto your behind, unable to even keep yourself in a crouch.

More so than the intrusive thoughts, it’s the image of Yoongi’s face falling, of him rushing out of the house in frantic distress that replays in your mind and leaves you suffocating. He looked so scared, your calm, reliable Yoongi. He was like a pillar, but that news was a fell swoop he couldn’t stay strong against. Your heart burns for him, cramping and aching in your chest.

For a moment, you picture yourself staying out here, gasping for breath until the sun goes down. You feel alone, more than ever since coming here, and even as the thought spooks you, there’s no energy in your body to do anything about it.

Just as your breaths start to sound more like death rattles and you curl your face towards the ground, a warmth envelopes your back, arms circling your middle and lifting you up.

“Hey, breathe, breathe with me, Y/n. I’m here.”

You recognise the voice. You recognise the built torso holding you steady, but your mind isn’t putting the pieces together, and so you simply squeeze your eyes shut and allow yourself to be maneuvered around there are hands on your face and a deep voice instructing you to look at me. I’m here; look at me.

You crack your eyes open, body heaving with the effort it takes to get any oxygen in your lungs, but you’re met with the soulful brown eyes of Kim Namjoon, narrowed in concern.

His hands are warm despite the frigid air outside, and you let yourself melt into him, eyes sinking to watch his lips mouth instructions, demonstrating exaggerated breathing for you to follow.

You feel distinctly like you might vomit, but you force yourself to match his breaths. The shuddering in and stilted out aren’t as fluid as his, but slowly your heart doesn’t thud in your ears and your body doesn’t shake as violently.

You feel damp, sweating all over, and your whole body aches, but your hearing begins to properly tune in again, coherence creeping back. “Na-Namjoon,” you gasp, wishing you had the energy to grab his arms or hug him or something other than lying limp against the wall of the house.

“Shh, hey, don’t strain yourself. Take it easy. I’m here.” He’s crouching in front of you, eyes locked onto you as he continues to hold you steady, jaw kept aloft by his hands. “Keep breathing, and it’ll go away. It’s a panic attack, I’ve had my fair share. You’ll come right.”

Trusting him despite the persisting burn in your chest, you let him coach your breathing for several more minutes, the heightened air influx making your head go light and floaty.

Once a counted breath turns into a yawn of exhaustion, you know the worst has passed. It leaves you boneless, not a single ounce of power left in your muscles, but you can breathe again, and it’s all thanks to the man across from you.

“I’ve never had one before,” you manage, voice cracking, “not like that.”

Namjoon’s lips press together in sympathy, and he turns to prop himself against the side of the house beside you, letting you continue breathing independently. “Is it Yoongi-hyung?”

You nod weakly, and the academic hums in confirmation. “I used to get panic attacks a lot in university. I used to hate them, thought they meant I was weak. Like I couldn’t handle the pressure as much as I thought I could. But, you know, these days I just figure I’m only panicking because it means so much to me. And I don’t think that makes me weak at all. It just means I care. Don’t feel ashamed about this, Y/n. All it means is that you care about hyung a lot.”

All the breath in your lungs leaves you in one rush as you prop your head in your hands, knees tucked towards your chest. “Yeah.” You wish you had something more appreciative to say, but your mind is waterlogged, weighed down and not functioning.

Namjoon doesn’t seem to mind the curt response. “I care about him a lot too. He’s like the glue for us, isn’t he? I’m worried to fall apart without him here keeping us in line. But we survived before we knew him and we’ll survive now. What’s better is supporting each other and waiting to see how we can support Yoongi-hyung, too.”

“You’re right,” you admit with a heavy breath, wiggling your toes to will energy back into them. “We’ll be okay.”

Namjoon bends sideways to bump your shoulder warmly. “That’s the spirit. Now; I’m happy to stay out here as long as you need, but Jungkook was the first one to notice you had been gone for a while, and I think he’s probably getting concerned by now. If you’re up to it, I can give you a hand to get inside and join the others again. What do you reckon?”

You lean your head back against the wall, taking a moment to consider. “What movie is he putting on next?”

“He mentioned wanting to check out Paw Patrol on Netflix.”

“Let me die out here,” you plead weakly.

Namjoon laughs, the sound like comfort itself, and stands up, offering you a hand. “Come on, kitten, up we get.”

In the end, the Netflix viewings manage to distract you for the rest of the night. When your limbs are tangled together and snacks are flowing, it’s easy to tune out of reality a bit and focus on the television screen in the comfort of shared company. Jungkook clears space on the couch for you the second you return, and clings to you for hours, his chin on your shoulder. You don’t complain, feeling soothed by the physical closeness. But the hours pass, and when the majority of you can no longer hold in your yawns, Seokjin gets up to turn the lights back on and clean up.

“Let’s get some rest,” he decides, and it’s that return to the real world that immediately dampens the atmosphere again, the group of you turning solemn. You pause to pull out your phone, sending Yoongi a quick message of support, and that you all missed him already, but no reply comes.

Without words being spoken, the seven of you remaining find yourselves flocking together as you make your way up to bed. Jin flanks the maknae as Namjoon and Hoseok lean heavily into each other, the four of them disappearing into Jin’s room. You naturally fall into step with the remaining two men, Taehyung linking his arm into yours and holding you close all the way to Jimin’s room.

Somehow, the house is too quiet. Even though Yoongi wasn’t a particularly noisy housemate, his absence cloaks the air.

You have no energy to shower. Washing your face is as much as you can manage, and Taehyung is even more despairing than you are, slumped on the toilet seat as Jimin cleans his face for him.

The uncertainty is what makes your heart flutter on edge, unable to wind down, and you know from the restrained looks of fear and distress in the guys’ eyes that they feel the same. The show would be undoubtably ruined if Yoongi couldn’t return. But more important than that, Yoongi would be ruined if he lost his father so suddenly.

Knowing Yoongi is hurting makes you ache, and you cling to your lovers like they’re your anchors in a churning sea, tucking your face firmly into Taehyung’s shoulder. It soothes you a little to be pinned between them, but the three of you still lie awake as the minutes blink by agonisingly slow.

At some point, you must fall into a fitful sleep, because when a sudden noise fills the room, it rouses you aggressively, and you almost kick Jimin’s shin in the process. Grunting, the half-asleep man rubs his face and twists around, fumbling on the nightstand for the offending noise.

It’s Taehyung’s phone, vibrating against the wooden table, and once Jimin blinks twice at the glaring screen he gasps and yanks the charger out, sitting up in bed. “It’s hyung,” he declares in a voice more vulnerable than you’d ever heard from him before. “Wake Tae.”

You force yourself to dispel those last few wisps of sleep from your brain, and gently shake Taehyung awake. According to the clock on the nightstand, it’s almost two in the morning, but your heart leaps as Yoongi’s face fills the phone screen, looking right at the three of you.

“I thought you would be together,” he states with a rueful smile, though you can see that it doesn’t quite reach his reddened eyes. “Sorry for calling so late.”

“Don’t apologise, hyung,” Taehyung whines, half of his weight on you as he leans in close, “we were so worried about you. How’s your dad?”

Yoongi’s brows furrow beneath mussed hair. “Not great,” he admits. “A little more stable, at least, but he’s pretty confused right now. Nurses worry that it might have affected his brain.”

Your heart sinks, both at the thought of a relatively young man suffering such awful health complications, but also at how Yoongi was trying to hide his exhaustion and distress. “Oh my god.”

“Mm, we should know soon what the damage is,” Yoongi explains further, rubbing his eyes with the hand not holding his phone aloft, “and if he’s alright I can head back h- head back to the Villa. He’s just been sleeping a lot today so… We don’t really know how he’ll be until he’s conscious for enough time. Yoonji’s with him at the moment, I just wanted to duck out and give you guys an update. Where are the others?”

“Jin-hyung’s room,” Jimin answers, even as he’s throwing back the covers. “They’ll want to hear from you themselves, just hold on a minute.”

You hear Yoongi’s voice echoing from the phone and strain to make out his words as Jimin heads to the door. “No, no, don’t wake them. I actually wanted to ask if you’d like to come visit? Of course none of you know my dad, and he doesn’t know you, but- Well, Yoonji and I could do with some company.”

You jump up, rushing to Jimin’s side. As he naturally accommodates your presence and pulls you flush against him, you lift your face up to the phone. “We’ll be there,” you assure Yoongi, “just please get some rest tonight. It’s been a rough day.”

Yoongi’s pained smile breaks your heart, and Jimin leads the phone back to the bed so that Taehyung can say a final goodbye before the three of you hang up and crawl, exhausted but somewhat relieved, back into bed.

[yesimwriting]

hi, i love all your work! could i please request headcanons for what it'd be like to go from being enemies to lovers with nikolai lantsov.

thank you:)

A/N maybe i moved this up on my request lists bc i woke up today and went 'nikolai lantsov'

--

- i'm being a little liberal with cannon bc my mind first went to 'princess! reader who hates nikolai bc they're competitive and then they have to team up together to try to get their parents to break up their arranged marriage but fall in love in the process (this might be a little undetailed but i'm thinking of writing a full fic or mini-series with this plotline so let me know if you'd be interested!! i could see a smutty ending to that fic but idk,, lmk what you thing ig lol)

- Ok so first off enemies to lovers with the loml nikolai lantsov would be SO GOOD bc he's so dramatic and obviously attractive so even though you hate him you know he's hot,, there's never a dramatic realization that he's attractive bc it's just a fact

- butttt you'd rather give up any claim you have to your family's throne than feed his already gigantic ego

- okk but lets get to the beginning of your enemies to lovers relationship

- so basically every summer your parents go and stay with Nikolai's family at this super fancy vacation home bc your parents are both royalty and your kingdoms have a very healthy relationship

- just bc it's the summer season doesn't mean it's summer vacation,, so as children for about a month you two share a tutor,, and when i tell you that created a rivalry so fast i mean it

- you're not the eldest princess and you're always trying to be the best for your parents approval, nikolai just wanted to impress the really smart girl who had a pretty laugh (poor nikolai lol,, he had no way of knowing how important being the best in school no matter what was to your self esteem)

- maybe if you two could communicate you’d like each other a little better at this point but it starts when you’re pretty young and by the time you’re like 13 it’s a solidified dynamic (and 13 year olds are the MEANEST and most insecure people in the world so that’s when your relationship turns to full enemies)

- now that you’re 13 you have more princess-y requirements, especially over the summer. So when you see that Nikolai gets to practice with swords and gets more free time while you have to practice setting tables you hate him more than ever. 

- Nikolai senses that you’re extra hostile but he has no idea why,, he tries asking once but he makes a joke about how ‘maybe you’re jealous bc youre no longer the center of my attention’ and even though he’s just trying to ease the tension you feel like he’s making fun of you

- so that’s when things get aggressive, but at that point summer is almost over so it’s whatever

- next summer comes and you’re still SO MAD at him,, so when you get to the estate you’re like ‘i’m not even talking to him idc how quiet these next three months are’ 

- and you get there all determined to hate him,, but once you get there and see him something in you cracks bc he had the audacity to spend the last year going through puberty AND LIKE HE’S ALWAYS BEEN CUTE BUT THIS IS SOMETHING ELSE 

- so youre mentally panicking bc how do you even talk to someone that looks like that now???? but then you remember that you didnt even want to talk him so in a panic youre like ‘maybe i can avoid him and he’ll just assume it’s bc i hate him bc i do,, who cares if he’s unbelievably hot now’ 

- nikolai doesn’t assume anything, he just gets to the estate and is like ‘why hasn’t she insulted me yet?? is she suddenly too good to give me attention?’ so during the lessons that you still share he gets an idea

- he decides to one-up you in everything bc that’s always gotten a reaction out of you 

- it works,, every time he corrects you or steals an answer from you, you’re ready to snap but then you look at him and take in his stupidly perfect face and  you just shut up 

- nikolai thinks it’s not working so he just tries harder

- by the end of week one you can’t take it anymore so when the tutor leaves at the end of lessons you snap, you tell him off for how often he’d repeat what you said and change a few words and get all the praise from the tutor

- on the inside he’s like ‘took long enough’ but the more you rant he’s like ‘is she okay???’ he’d be more concerned if you weren’t threatening his pride and at this point he’s still annoyed bc if you were that annoyed you should have just talked to him instead of ignoring him for a week

- he’s thinking that just bc you got really pretty over the last year doesn’t make you too good to yell at him on the daily

- the worst thing anyone can do to nikolai is ignore him LMAO (lowkey relatable)

- so he starts arguing with you and you’re so upset that you forget about how aggressively attractive he is 

- and you two are alone in this room and the more you argue the closer you two get

- the climax of the argument is when neither of you are yelling, you’re just so mad you’re beyond raising your voice and once you’re both at that point it goes like this: 

“Nikolai Lantsov, you are the most insufferable person I’ve ever met” 

“Well then, Darling, you should look in a mirror.” 

“You are so entitled, so ridiculously self obsessed that it ruins your attractiveness.” 

“...” he literally just like blinks twice. “You think I’m attractive?” 

“Uh? No--i didn’t say that at all, maybe if you didn’t have the language comprehension of a child you’d understa--” he just reaches forward, grabs the collar of your dress, and kisses you. 

- it’s your first kiss so you have no idea what you’re doing and it’s with some one you CANT STAND and you’re so mad bc you had expectations for your first kiss and he’s taken that from you--but the thing is,, 

- he’s good at it. Like really good at it. Like so good it makes you curious about what he does the nine months of the year he’s not stuck here with you bc there’s no way he hasn’t had practice. 

- but you’re also extremely confused and nervous and aware of how stupid you’re being (and a little hormonal bc being 14 isn’t easy) and then he places his hand on your cheek and that snaps some sense of reality into you bc it’s one thing to enjoy the kiss but another thing entirely to want him to escalate it

- so you place one hand on his chest and push him off of you slightly. He takes the hint, pulls away enough to look at you and then you two just stare at each other 

- your hand is still on his chest and you have absolutely no idea what comes next, but you find yourself looking at his lips

- since you haven’t slapped him or pulled away more than a few inches he thinks maybe things are okay so he leans forward slightly and kisses you again. 

- you reciprocate a little too fast, the kiss lasts two seconds before thinking about how insane you’re being so you push away entirely. 

- He lets you go,, and in the most awkward display ever you’re like ‘uh I need to go,, i can’t be late to ball preparation lessons’ and you leave that room faster than you’ve ever left a room in your entire life. 

- the next day you consider pretending to be sick to avoid him but that would only give him more power over the situation so you go,, and he’s just sitting there calmly

- youre on edge the entire day but he never even jokes about it

- a part of you is a tiny bit annoyed bc who kisses you and then pretends it never happened? but overall, you’re relieved 

- the days pass and it never comes up but now whenever you two argue you think of how quickly kissing him both shut him up and got rid of your tension 

- the summer goes by quickly, your usual dynamic has returned and you wonder if he even remembers kissing you. twice. in a row. 

- the next couple of years are normal,, even when you two no longer take lessons together you still dont like him. He’s just so assured and he takes such joy in bothering you. 

- and then one summer your parents sit you down and they’re like ‘we need to plan the future alliance of our kingdom’ 

- you’re a little confused bc you’re rarely allowed to sit in on these things bc you’re a girl and you’re basically meant to just be a royal’s bride--and then you realize why you’re there. 

- you start protesting before your father can finish announcing your engagement 

- the parents were smart bc they announced it at the end of summer so you two couldn’t drive them crazy or conspire

- the first thing you do when you get back to your castle is write to him for the first time ever 

- your letter is basically ‘pls tell me you’re doing something’ 

- the two of you talk until you come up with the plan to get your parents to break up your engagement 

- your parents dont really care about your feelings and they expect the two of you to argue with them,, but they care about the kingdoms

- so you two decide that if you act like youre so in love that you let your duties slip the engagement will end,, especially if you two are in love in a toxic way 

- so the next summer you two make sure to flirt and act like youre totally obsessed with each other and skip lessons together and just are constantly together and acting like you’re on a honeymoon

- your parents are like ?? since when 

- at one point you flirt with a random guard just so Nikolai can have a ‘jealous outburst’ while your families are strolling through the garden 

- ngl jealous nikolai had you ready to RISK IT ALL,, you were ready to drop the plan and marry him on the spot 

- he notices bc he notices everything about you and when your family walks away he gives you a quick kiss and youre stunned,, much to his delight 

- your desire to break up your engagement takes a slight backseat in your mind bc you decide to set off on a secret goal to make him flustered

- it doesn’t take much, your dresses get a little more risky, your comments get a little more suggestive

- the only problem?? he seems to have his own personal goal and it’s to make you even more flustered than he is

- soon the two of you are lost in layers of pretend and competition

- when your parents are finally thinking about delaying the engagement and keeping you two away from each other until you calm down a little (i feel bad for them,, an entire summer of being surrounded by the ULTIMATE sexual tension) 

- you’re sad and you don’t know why bc this is what you wanted, but then Nikolai stands up and says that you two planned for this and he has the letters to prove it (he was ready to drop the receipts LMAO) and youre like ??what are you doing?

- and he says he’d rather marry you then never see you again bc now all he wants is to get know you bc he has no idea how he wasted so much time arguing with you 

- and you just meltttt but your in front of your entire family and his as well so you just sit there for a minute and then you tell him you feel the same way 

- but the summer’s over

- you kiss him before leaving and he says you’ll have to visit bc he can’t go an entire year without seeing your ‘pretty face’ 

- you promise to visit him soon

- your at home for exactly a day and a half before getting an invitation to visit him 

- you laugh bc the only way that letter could get to you that fast is if he mailed it before you even left 

- you say yes obviously,, and spend some time having a really cute fall-dating vibes together until you figure out how you really feel 

- and you feel like he makes your heart STOP and that’s why you hated him,, bc you didn’t like being vulnerable 

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Crimson Ties (Bela Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 3

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language Warnings: Typical Vampire shenanigans + mentions of animal death Genre: Hurt + comfort Summary: Time to meet the family! What exactly has Cassandra told her mother? Can Bela convince her family to calm the hell down? We'll find out! Spoiler: there's the start of a cute date afterwards Notes: Once more we visit Bela's private study, which I first described in a chapter of Serenade. Added a few more details this time. PS reader is probably low-key a theater nerd with a hint of a goth phase, just saying. Also this chap is a little short, sorry. Previous Chapters: 1: Stem the Flow, 2: Tangled Strands

3: Rumbling Thunder

Heart racing, you step into the dining room, just behind Bela. Both of you are nervous, but find comfort in each other. Still, what you see upon entering only makes you feel worse. At the head of a large table stands none other than Lady Alcina Dimitrescu. Besides her is her middle daughter, the one who confronted you earlier, who sends you a knowing smirk as you walk in. Lady Dimitrescu, on the other hand, is scowling. Her eyes are squinted in a clear display of disapproval. If not for Bela’s hand squeezing your own, it was likely that you would have fainted from fear.

“I see Cassandra has wasted no time in spreading rumors,” Bela said bitterly. You’re amazed by her ability to stand tall in the face of her family’s tension. Yet there was a part of you that wondered if you were worth the struggle, at least for your soulmate. Thankfully, you are not given much time to ponder the thought. No, you’re being pulled towards the closest side of the tabe, guided next to an ornate seat. Neither Bela nor yourself sit yet, however. “Please, mother, do not be hasty to make your judgement. I promise that-”

“Do not presume to tell me of my own business, daughter. The timing of my judgement is my prerogative, not yours,” Lady Dimitrescu interrupted, staring right at you. A shiver runs down your spine at the eye contact. What did Cassandra say to her? You wonder, struggling to breathe past the lump in your throat. Even Bela becomes visibly nervous at the interaction. “Now… are you certain, without a doubt, that this is your soulmate?” Did she really even have to ask? What were the chances that Bela would save you, one person out of at least a dozen in the cellar, for any other reason? Still, your soulmate straightens up at the attention, and replies as confidently as possible.

“Yes, of course, mother. I would not dare risk your anger for any lesser reason,” Bela assured. Then she gives your hand another soft squeeze, before pulling hers back a little, catching the thread that bound you together with her fingers. Lifting it, she tugs it somewhat absentmindedly. Out of habit you immediately return the action. Unfortunately, those around you would be unable to see the display. For all they knew, the two of you could be faking it, simply attempting to get out of the situation unscathed. Surprisingly though, you see Alcina hesitate. Her left hand twitches as if she was thinking of her own red string. Has she ever met her partner? Did she know the pure joy that her daughter had so recently felt?... Maybe she’d be more sympathetic to your situation if she had.

“We will see if your defiance pans out in time, Bela. For now… Why don’t we hear what your pet has to say about themselves, hmm?” Lady Dimitrescu suggested, giving a somewhat devious smile. Next to you, Bela grimaces, then sends you a pleading look. Alas, you cannot read her mind, and can only guess as to how you’re supposed to respond. Bowing is a sign of respect in virtually all cultures, you think, probably a good place to start.

“It is an immeasurable pleasure to formally make your acquaintance, Lady Dimitrescu,” you said, before giving your full name. Then you rise from your bow, once more making eye contact. Out of the corner of your vision you see Cassandra rolling her eyes. “I know that I am a mere human, and hardly the epitome of a prime specimen. But I am determined to prove my worth, for there is no prize on this earth more grand than being allowed to love Lady Bela. Every ounce of my willpower is prepared to devote myself to this task, entirely, so that I may give Lady Bela the courtship and happiness that she is deserving. It is both an obligation and an honor.” Hopefully your soulmate wouldn’t mind you using the same line twice, at least under these circumstances.

In the seconds that follow, several things happen: One, you see Cassandra frown a little, and refuse to look in your direction. Two, Lady Dimitrescu makes a surprised face, but quickly shifts into an expression of satisfaction. Thirdly, Bela’s hand finds your own again, giving it an incredibly soft squeeze. Last but not least… someone you haven’t seen before enters the room. She has red hair, a green pendant around her neck, and eyes that light up with curiosity when she sees you. If you had to guess, you’d assume that she was another one of Bela’s sisters. Here’s hoping she’s a tad bit friendlier, you think.

“Did I miss anything? Ooh, please tell me we’re having this lovely stranger for breakfast?” She asked, grinning maniacally. So much for being friendlier, you think, figuring that she was being literal. Based on the way Bela tenses up in response, you’re probably right. Before she can protest, however, Lady Dimitrescu clears her throat and speaks.

“Ah, Daniela… This stranger-” she says the word with far less venom than you anticipated, but it is venom nonetheless- “is your dear sister’s soulmate. We will not be draining them of blood. Again. Assuming that they behave themselves. Is that clear?” She asked, staring down at the newcomer. There’s a slight pause, tension still lingering in the air, followed by a sigh of relief from Bela. Much to your surprise, neither Cassandra nor Daniela seem particularly upset by this announcement. In fact, the latter simply shrugs and takes her seat at the table. Next thing you know everyone else is sitting as well, including Bela, who gestures for you to follow suit. “I’ll have one of the servants fetch you some more… appropriate food. Cynthia, my dear?” Soon enough a maiden, perhaps a decade or two older than yourself, hurriedly enters the room. With a bow, she addresses Alcina.

“Yes, Lady Dimitrescu?”

“Have Miss Bouregard make an extra plate of whatever it is you sort eat, and bring it here. We have an… unexpected guest,” Alcina explained. At that, Cynthia glances at you, her eyes briefly widening in surprise. Without another word she turns away, giving another bow before heading away to fulfill her task. Once more you’re the only human in the room. Oddly enough, you manage to feel quite at ease, as if surviving one round was enough to guarantee you’d win the overall game. Well, at the very least you now had a chance. Regardless of what was to come, you were glad for that, for this opportunity to be with your soulmate. At the end of the day… little else mattered to you.

———————————

Much to your relief, the rest of breakfast proceeded smoothly. Conversation was sparse, with most of it being hushed whispers from the other side of the table, but you hardly minded. Normally you would find it rude. Now, you were simply pleased that they weren’t being up front with their hostility. More so, it allowed you and Bela to have your own conversation, which mainly pertained to your plans for the day. Several times during your discussion, a glance elsewhere would show you that Alcina was paying attention. Exactly once you even saw her attempting to hide a smile. A sense of pride had swelled in your chest at the sight.

It has remained there, even until now, as you move into Bela’s private study. One quick survey of the room tells you a thousand things about your soulmate. For starters, it’s clear that she’s musically inclined. There’s a harp in one corner, adjacent to a folded music stand, as well as a small bookshelf dedicated entirely to sheet music. A couple medium sized instrument cases are nearby, but you don’t immediately recognize their shape. Further into the room is a rather old looking desk, slightly worn, yet clearly cared for. Possibly passed down the generations? Next to the desk is a massive window with a couple spare chairs. All across the walls were bookshelves and mementos, including several skulls (at least one of them human). Every book you looked over appeared to be well read, with many bookmarks inside, some held together by tape and prayers.

“This… this is sublime, my darling. I could rest here for a month and hardly finish cherishing half the space!” You said, grinning at your soulmate. She’s equally pleased, seeming a tad relieved as well. Perhaps she had worried you’d be thrown off by the skulls? Wanting to reassure her, you approach that particular shelf, examining them closely. However, you do not touch them, not wanting to risk damaging her collection. “Truly marvellous. Dare I ask where you got these specimens?” It’s a joke, but Bela stiffens nonetheless, making you quickly redact your statement. “My apologies, I meant it as a jest. Though you are welcome to tell me more about them if you so desire! I will listen with rapt attention, I promise.”

“Most of them are gifts from Cassandra. During the summers we hunt, her more so than Daniela or myself. I… dislike wasting anything, and there’s only so much to be done with most bones. They have quite a few ornamental uses, however. Useful for study, as well,” Bela mentioned, smiling softly. Then she moves to stand next to you, carefully reaching to grab one of the skulls. “This was from one of our hounds, actually. I raised her from puppy to adult, took her on every hunt, even let her sleep in my quarters on colder nights. When she got sick I…” A pause, mouth open but unmoving, eyes slipping shut. “I couldn’t bring myself to put her down. Even argued with my mother, night after night, begging for another choice. None came, of course, and in the end even I could not deny her the softest embrace of death… Still, you must think me strange, to keep such a thing as a reminder of her.”

“Not at all, my dear. We all remember, and grieve, in our own ways. I’ve often found myself intrigued by skulls, of all sorts,” you admitted, sheepishly rubbing the back of your neck with your hand. “All we are, our minds or mayhap our souls, contained in one hard shell. It’s incredible, and terrifying, all at the same time, to hold one in my hands, or even merely examine one. Oh, what stories these bones could tell, if only they could talk… Though I suppose there are entire fields of science devoted to such a thought…” With that said, you look back at Bela just in time to see her staring fondly at the canine skull. Then she places it back on its perch, dusting her hands off afterwards, taking one last moment to appreciate her collection.

“I’m glad you and I agree on this,” she said softly. Once more she’s looking at you, smiling wide. “Now let’s make memories of our own, to hold in our bones forevermore, yes?”

[skzfairies]

suprise comfort

warnings: homophobia, mentions of divorce, fighting parents, unaccepting parents, disappointed parents, mentions of being homesick, mentions of missing family

time: june 2019

pairing: yuri + yeosang

summary: when yuri is upset late at night, someone comes to comfort her, and it’s not who she expected.

the room was dark, the only light was from the little night lamp by their desk, and the dim lighting of yuri's phone. she was scrolling through tik tok, unable to sleep, unlike her snoring roommates below her.

she saw all sorts of tik toks, funny ones, boring ones, cringey, and sometimes, she would even see a fancam of a kpop idol with text over it. they were normally always about fan wars though.

but one of the tik toks she found, it made her stop. she could feel her breath hitch at this one, and she felt her heartstrings be pulled.

it wasn't the creators fault, and she would never blame them for bringing this sudden wave of sadness over her, she was happy for them, and glad they were able to share their happy memory with her.

but yuri couldn't help the intrusive thoughts came after the wave of happiness was over.

the tik tok was a video of the creator coming out to their parents, and they were really supportive. yuri was so happy for them, and she was glad that people could have supportive parents and face less hardships for something they can't control.

yuri kept on thinking about when her parents found out about her being lesbian, the disappointed face they wore was something that was still painful for yuri to remember even after all these years.

she could hear the words that she often replayed coming to her head, and the pounding of her heart rose. she could feel tears running down her cheeks, coming faster and faster and more memories came back to her.

she let out a hic up, the sound seeming very loud to the quiet room. she held her breath for awhile, hoping neither hongjoong or seonghwa heard it. after a few minutes past, and it was confirmed that neither of the boys woke up, yuri slightly made her way down the ladder, and tip toed her way to the bathroom.

she knew no one would be up at this hour, so she was able to cry freely in the bathroom herself.

she shut the door to the bathroom, and plopped herself down on top of the rug, harshly pulling on her hair.

she wanted supportive parents so bad, she wished she was straight, because that's the only way her parents would naturally support it.

her parents were over the arguing now, but they barely talked about it, never confirming if they truly supported it or not.

she wanted parents who she could gush to about a girl or bring one home to them without awkward conversations. she wished she could be herself around them, without masking one of the biggest things about her.

tears were now clouding her vison, and she could feel snot rolling down her nose.

she quickly got up and grabbed the toilet paper, blowing her down and wiping off the tears on her face, and returning to her spot on the rug.

she just wanted to cry, she wanted to throw something, give a piece of her mind, she felt like she was going crazy. she let out a slightly loud sob, covering her mouth and sobbing into it, wishing that this pain would just go away.

she missed her family so much, even though they caused her so much pain. she remembered the family vacations, the jokes, the late nights. she remembered the fights, the arguments, the tears. her family wasn't ideal, and no matter how many times she wished that they would just get a divorce, she still missed them. she wished she could just break off all ties with them and just never speak to them again because all of the emotional pain they have caused her, but it's easier said than done. the guilt always eated her alive, even when she tried to convince herself that it wasn't her fault they were like this, she always did feel like it was all her fault.

she couldn't stop the tears and the sobs that were falling now, no matter how hard she covered her mouth, or how many times she brushed the tears off her face. she could feel her body shaking, her head pound, and her heart ache.

she didn't even notice the door opening, she was too focused on calming her breathing, and trying not to scream her lungs out.

she didn't notice someone even entered the bathroom until she felt arms wrap around her, causing her to jump and try and hurriedly wipe off her tears and stand up. this didn't work, the arms help her down and softly grabbed her hands.

"stop doing that, you'll irratate your eyes."

yeosang, yuri could notice his deep voice from anywhere, but she was suprised that he was even hugging her in this moment, normally they never did any skinship.

"yeosang, what are you doing?" yuri whispered, barely able to speak in a normal voice, and her voice slightly cracking even at a whisper.

yeosang softly pulled her into his lap, leaning against the wall and brushing her hair out of her face, seeing how red her eyes and nose were, and her puffy cheeks broke his heart. he hated seeing her like this so much.

"i thought you could use a hug." yeosang softly chuckled, hoping to bring the mood up some, but it failed. yuri rested her head against his shoulder and sighed, feeling too emotionally drained to even say anything or look at him.

"could you tell me what's wrong? i'm sure it will help."

yuri could feel the genuine concern in his voice, but she needed a break, she felt like she was crying for hours, and she couldn't even find her voice in her throat, so she only shook her head against yeosang's neck. yeosang sighed, softly brushing the hair out of her face. he really wanted her to talk, he never seen her this upset before. but he knew it would only make her upset more if he tried to force her into opening up.

"okay, maybe later. do you want to move somewhere more comfortable?" yeosang gently whispered, softly patting onto yuri's arm.

yeosang heard her hum, so he slowly unwrapped his arms around her, and helped her up, standing up behind her.

he grabbed onto her hand softly, making yuri softly tense before relaxing, and walked her into the living room.

yuri never saw yeosang this soft and affectionate to her, and she appreciated it. she felt safe and comfortable around him, although still greatly bothered and upset.

yeosang sat down on the couch and pulled her down into his lap once more, and yuri returned to her position with her head on his shoulders.

they sat there for awhile, yeosang occasionally brushing his hands through yuri's hair, while she stared off into the distance, still thinking about the memories of her parents outing her and being rude to her.

yeosang didn't want her to shut down completely, so he softly called her name until she looked up at him, and sat up.

"now could you tell me what's wrong? i understand if you don't want to talk about it, but i've never seen you this upset, mimi. you don't have to go through this alone." yeosang whispered, searching yuri's face for any discomfort, or any tears.

she looked conflicted, like she was deciding if she wanted to talking about it or not, so yeosang added,

"i won't tell anyone about this, i promise. it's just between you and me." yeosang held out a pinky, and smiled up at yuri, causing a smile from yuri, and she linked her pinkie with him.

this is a step, yeosang thought, and sat back, waiting to see if yuri continued.

he heard her barely audible voice, and it sounded dry and weak, and yeosang never wanted to protect anyone more than ever.

"it's about my parents."

"do you miss them?" yeosang gently responded, knowing that she hasn't been able to see them in a very long time, and had to stay at the dorms while the others returned home for a week by herself. he would feel terribly homesick, too.

"yes and no." yuri sighed, dragging her hands across her face and shaking her head. yeosang could feel the stress radiating off of her, and began rubbing her back, hoping to ease some of the tension.

yuqi was quiet for a little bit, and yeosang waited for her to continue, slightly confused about her response.

"they, well, how do i say this. they had many flaws. many hurtful flaws. does that make sense?" yuri questioned, looking at yeosang and continuing when she saw him nod.

"my parents fought often, and most parents do that, but it was a lot, and it was almost an everyday thing. they could barely be around each other without arguing. i really wanted them to get a divorce, but we couldn't. i was thinking about that, and some other things too." yuri mumbled leaning back against yeosang, humming when he brushed his hands through her hair.

"i'm sorry yuri, that sounds very hard. you said there were other things too? do you want to talk about those?" yeosang said after awhile, he couldn't imagine the emotional stress she had to go through growing up, and wished he could solve all of these problems for her, but he knew he really couldn't.

"yeah...this is the hardest thing to talk about. um....well my parents weren't always accepting, of well, me. they were only accepting of the version that they wanted to see, you know?" yeosang nodded, understanding that feeling. it was hard and not easy to deal with.

"it wasn't about school or my dream or anything, they were proud of me for that. so incredibly proud. they weren't proud of, who i liked." yuri said fastly, holding her breath, waiting for yeosang's response. yeosang could feel her tense up, and mumbled to her that it was okay, and that he's proud of her for talking to him. yuri calmed down, seeing yeosang did not have a problem with it at all.

"i don't understand why they didn't accept it. it wasn't like i was having crushes on bad people, it was literally just girls. i don't understand why that was such a big deal." yuri huffed, feeling the anger rise into her, but quickly fall with sadness.

"i don't understand why either yu, but i'll always support you, and so will the boys, and atiny. there's nothing wrong with you, i promise. and who cares what other people think about who you like? i know it's harder when it's your parents, but it's their lose, they are being foolish for not accepting you. i'm sorry you have to go through this, mimi. i'll love you no matter what." yeosang spoke, brushing yuri's hair with his fingers again, and yuri was sure it was extremely oily by now.

yuri felt a lot better now, and appreciated. she knew that her boys would always have her back, and that they would support her no matter what. they were her family, and she was their's. nothing could pull them apart.

"thanks yeosang, i love you." yuri smiled, hugging onto yeosang and kissing his cheek. she felt so loved, and so appreciated.

she smiled into yeosang's chest and softly fell asleep, dreaming of her real family, that was ateez.

[ilguna]

Redamancy - Prologue (f.o)

summary: it’s time to forgive and repair.

warnings; swearing.

wc; 1.6k

NOTES; I give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

A silent warning, the look that your mother used to give you right after you did something that you weren’t supposed to. Do it again, and you would be sat in the corner or go to bed early so that you wouldn’t cause trouble for the rest of the day. You were a well-behaved kid most days, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t earn the look a couple of times.

After both of your parents died, you stopped getting that look. Reed couldn’t replicate it, Mox didn’t like scaring you into submission. Not to mention, there was no reason to get into trouble. Your days were spent under the grey clouds, always waiting for the one thing that would trip the rain. Getting your brother’s angry could very well be the last straw.

You understood that life was hard enough without your shenanigans. Might as well be compliant so you four could get through it. Later in life, hopefully you’d be able to rekindle that childish behavior. Plus, you learned a new trick when it came to identifying when Reed was at his breaking point.

A monotone voice, cold eyes, stiff behavior. He wouldn’t entertain your jokes, wouldn’t answer your questions unless they were dire. The final giveaway would be Mox in the bedroom and Reed in the kitchen, chopping dinner a little too hard. With how close Reed and Mox are--less than a year apart--they’re practically twins. They hardly ever fight, but when it happens, it’s never pretty.

Walking on eggshells in a house that silent is practically impossible. You used to just pick up whatever you were working on and leave. Go next door to Naida’s house, or literally disappear until it was dinner time. As soon as dinner was over, it was time to shut yourself in your room and not come out until morning.

As you got older, and as money stopped being so tight, nights like that loosened. No more silent evenings, no more tense nights. The last time you ever got the ‘you’re in trouble’ or ‘someone’s in trouble’ treatment was years ago.

However, staring into Elysia’s eyes right now, you’ve discovered that you still get the same fear as you used to. When every little moment where you’ve ever done something wrong, crosses your mind until you land on the worse one. And then you think, “How the fuck did she find out?”

Your tributes don’t notice, completely clueless on the newfound tension that’s entered the room.

“Go shower and get ready for supper.” you tell the tributes, barely taking your eyes from Elysia’s long enough to look at the tributes, “Elysia will get you when it’s time.”

They take off towards their rooms without a word. Neither you or Elysia move from where you stand, as if that movement will set off the other. Once the two of you hear that the doors have shut loudly, she eases. You straighten up a little, fingers crossed that you didn’t just fuck up this mentoring thing.

It’s only your second year. Last year was the test run, the blueprint for how the future years would go. Anchor and Mags made the job out to be hard, but you and Finnick have got it figured out so far. That doesn’t mean that there aren't grey areas still, cause there definitely is.

“What’s the matter?” you ask, eyebrows twitching.

“Finnick came back from the mansion about half an hour ago.” she says, she’s hesitating. You watch her open her mouth, and then close it.

“So? I’m sure that things are fine. I’ve got to talk to him about sponsors anyway.”

She shakes her head, “He looked upset, I’d give him some space until dinner. I think he needs to think.”

“Did he tell you the problem?”

Elysia shakes her head again. You decide to believe her for now, but you’ll definitely be asking Finnick questions after dinner. You and him normally tell each other things, even after bad news. Keeping things from each other, especially during mentoring, isn’t the brightest idea. Last year you found out that communication and determination is what makes a good team. Your tributes made the top eight, which is a huge ass improvement from the past tributes.

You tell Elysia that you’ll be back before supper, you’ve still got stuff to do. It’s done relatively quickly, since you’re only meeting with a tattoo artist to map out where you’ll be getting your Blaire tattoo. It’s a ‘D3’ on the back of your neck, which is going to be pretty hidden by your hair unless you bring it up.

Reed and Mox didn’t like the idea at first, neither did Laurel when you expressed it over the phone. But all three of them came around once they saw that there was a sentimental value behind it. You’ll be getting the tattoo done sometime during the training days when your tributes are in the gymnasium. Finnick’s already agreed to start persuading people to keep an eye on your tributes.

When you come back around, you lay out your evening clothes and take a cold shower to wake yourself up again. Elysia comes and gets you last. You figure this out when you come out and see that everyone is already at the table eating. You take your spot next to Finnick, and watch as he moves his hand to his lap.

You press your lips together, pausing to decide whether or not you’ll be able to handle this. The silent treatment, the obvious avoidance and discomfort. You hated it when your brothers did it, so it’s worse now that your own boyfriend is doing it. For a moment, you’re about to call the tattoo artist and ask to get it over and done with so that you won’t have to come back until late in the night. 

You don’t act on it, only consider. You decide that you have to be more mature than that. You eat dinner with everyone, taking your time so that the tributes will leave before you do. You don’t want to abandon them out here. The moment that they get up to leave, you wrap up your dinner.

Finnick’s out of the room faster than you are. You and Elysia share a look, listen as the door shuts, “No matter what happens, I’ll be out here tomorrow morning, okay?”

She nods, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” you get up from the table, heading after Finnick.

Without knocking, you open the door to find that the room appears empty. The lights are off, the bed is still messy, the hammock is void. You shut the door anyway, waiting at the doorway for Finnick to come to you. You know he’s in here, you saw him come this way.

Once he moves in the corner, you see him. He’s sat in front of the window, blanket over his shoulders. The moment he sees that it’s you, he turns his back to you again. A frown appears on your face.

“Finnick…” you start, heading towards him.

The city isn’t going to be alive until the night of the interviews. Then, they’ll be celebrating that the Hunger Games is finally here. For now, he stares down at the bare streets of the Capitol. It’s lonely.

Even with you standing over him, he says nothing. You cross your arms, shaking your head, “Finn, talk to me.”

“Go away.” he mutters.

“Tell me what happened. It can’t be that bad. Did President Snow find out about our training or what?”

He’s quiet.

“Is that it?”

“No. Please, go away.”

You sigh through your nose, “No, not until you talk to me. We’re in this together, remember? We said no secrets, especially when we’re in the Capitol. Head in the game, Finnick.”

“You want to know?” Finnick asks, you feel your blood run cold when you hear how pissed he is. You have no time to respond, “I think we should break up.”

You open your mouth, and then close it. Then you open it again, “What?”

“I don’t think we’re good together. I’m breaking up with you.”

“Real funny, Finnick.” you shift on your feet.

He looks over his shoulder, blanket out of his face so that you can actually see. There is no smile, no reassurance that he’s kidding. He’s staring at you, dead in the eye, “It’s not a joke, (Y/n). We’re over.”

You stare at him for a long moment, too long. He turns back around towards the window in that time, “Get out of my room.”

You grit your teeth, hands forming fists. You say nothing when you leave, but the door slam says everything that you’re feeling. It’s loud, it rattles the doorframe and echoes throughout the apartment. 

You hate that your room is next door, and you hate that Finnick can probably hear the moment you start crying. The walls feel paper thin, you feel like you’re drowning. You try to find a place to hide but the only place where Finnick hasn’t touched is inside the closet.

You lay on your back, on the soft carpet floor with the lights off. There’s no way to properly stare at the ceiling, but you try your best anyway. No matter how badly you want to move to the bed and get a real night of sleep, you can’t bring yourself to get up and move.

It was all for nothing.

--

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[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Meeting and Dating Jack Goodman

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

(Most of these can probably go for both normal jack and ghost jack but the hcs center around him being amongst the undead. I wouldn’t mind writing some hcs specifically for human Jack though)

- You first met Jack in highschool. Initially, you were friends with David who was in a few of your classes, but soon enough David introduced you to Jack and the three of you became a trio.

- Jack fell for you the moment he saw you, or at least couldn’t help but find you incredibly attractive. You probably thought he was just nervous when you first met with the way he was stumbling over his words and acting so awkward. Gosh, David had a field day with him after you left.

- To Jack, you’re completely out of his league and there is no chance that you would be interested in him. But he has to try. Too bad his “trying” isn’t nearly as obvious as he would like it to be.

- The two of you gradually spend more time together, going from only hanging out once in a while; and only with David, to hanging out for hours on your own. Every time you’re together he tries to psychically project his feelings into your mind.

- Its nearly a year later that he actually tries to put the moves on you but at that point you’re such good friends that you don't even notice what he’s trying to do. Every proposition of a date is just him asking to hang out. Every romantic compliment or pickup line results in you laughing and telling him to stop messing around. He doesn’t know how much more of it he can take.

- When the three of you graduated highschool, you’d decided that you’d take a year off and vacation in Italy. The boys wanted to go backpacking so they agreed to meet you there. Of course, they never really did, did they?

- You were beside yourself when you heard about what happened. Here you were, in the middle of a foreign country supposed to be having the time of your life and instead, you find out that one of your best friends is killed by an animal and that the other is recovering in a London hospital. Jack was dead, it was like the idea wouldn’t register in your mind. Jack was dead and you’d never see him again.

“Y/n came to my funeral. Gosh, she really looked torn up,” Jack smiled at David almost sheepishly. “Do you think now would be a bad time to tell her how I feel?”

- It was a few days after his funeral that you first saw him again. You though that you were going crazy, that your grief had gotten the better of you and you were having a serious lapse in your sanity. But it all seemed far too real, too detailed to be a hallucination.

- After hearing about what happened, you’d cancelled the rest of your trip and went back home. You’d holed yourself up in your room for a week before you finally forced yourself to go outside, though it was only to attend Jacks funeral.

- You were curled up on your bed, still dressed in your funeral attire and feeling utterly miserable as you fumbled with a book you’d borrowed from the boy for your plane ride to Italy. The room was quiet, save for you sniffling, ...up until a sudden voice rang out.

“You never did get the chance to give me that back.”

- Your eyes widened as you clumsily sat up and turned around. There he was, standing in the doorway to your bedroom; torn and bloodied but there. You watched as he walked inside the room, smiling at you as he took a seat on the edge of your bed. Feeling the mattress sink under his weight was what fully convinced you that you weren’t just going mad.

- Your mouth went completely dry as you looked at him. You couldn’t think of anything to say even as you tried your hardest. All you could manage to get out was a “how” and a clumsy sounding “what”.

“How ya doin y/n/n? Wonderful service wasn’t it. I was glad to see you there. I think my parents were too, they always liked you,” he said sweetly though the words held a bitter air. “You know, I was thinking about sticking around here a bit. You said I was always welcome and, well, being around the dead all the time is really starting to bum me out. I much prefer your company.

- You inched closer to him, placing a tentative hand on his cleaner shoulder before moving it to touch his undamaged cheek. His skin was cold but you could touch it as though he were really there. Letting out a sob, you lunged forward, smushing you’re lips against his cheek and pressing your forehead to the side of his head.

“Well don't get all mushy on me now.” 

- True to his word, he did stay, albeit in intervals. Every now and again, he’d disappear for a while but he always came back and was seemingly content and relieved to be around you.

- Its not very long after he comes back into your life that he finally confesses his feelings. He figures that, hey, he’s dead, what else has he got to lose? So one night, just as you’re drifting off to sleep, he enters your room and kneels beside your bed, delicately shaking you awake.

“Y/n/n? I know its late but I’ve been sitting up and thinking. Thinking about my life, all the things that happened, everything I should have done. I realized that I didn’t do much at all. I mean; I should have met more people, went out more, slept around more.” he chuckled softly though it sounded more like a scoff than anything else. 

“But you see, I can live with all of that, or, well... nevermind! The point is, that there was one thing that I should have done that I never did, something that I can’t just let go of. …I should have kissed you Y/n. I should have kissed you and never stopped. I was an idiot, I was an idiot because I never told you how I felt when I had the chance. Well now I’m a lousy mess of ghostly meat but I’m going to finally tell you.” He paused, taking a deep breath and trying to calm his nerves. Even in death, he was a coward. 

“Y/n. I love you. I’ve loved you since the moment I saw you and never once has that love gone away; …not even in death. I know this isn’t very orthodox and that I’m not a very nice looking corpse either. …And maybe this whole thing is insane and I never should have said anything at all!” He spoke as though he finally realized how bizarre the situation was, an nervous edge in his voice. He paused and collected himself before speaking again. “…but I did say it, so now we’re just gonna have to move on from here.” 

- None of his dreams could have ever prepared him for the sheer shock and joy that he felt when you told him that you liked him too. 

“So you’re saying we could have been together all of this time?” You couldn’t help but laugh at the look on his face. With a tired smile, you beckoned him into your bed and laid back once again to go to sleep, this time with him by your side. 

-  You had your first date in your house, cuddled up on your couch and watching movies. It was just like any other day yet different at the same time. It felt right. 

- The two of you shared your first kiss that same day when you were saying goodnight to each other. You were going to go to bed and he wanted to stay up a bit longer so he walked you to your bedroom. You both paused at the door before he leant down and kissed you gently, saying goodnight with a smile as you retreated into the room. 

- And so, the dead joined the living... in her small studio apartment. 

- Jack is sort of an indoor boyfriend so to speak. He’s a ghost; and a mangled one at that, so you can’t exactly be seen with him out in public. 

- He’s a bit clingy. He’s pretty much always alone when you’re not around so he hates when you have to leave him.

- I hope you don't mind gore because his isn’t going away anytime soon. 

- Please let him kiss you. Please. He is literally begging you to makeout with him.

“I know the face is a bit messy but my lips are still perfectly intact.”

- Humor is sort of a defense mechanism for him. Whenever he’s nervous or doesn’t know what to say; or how to say what he wants to say, he’ll just keep cracking jokes and trying to make you laugh in an effort to ease the tension.

- Getting surprise visits. He’ll most definitely scare you with the way he just pops up wherever you are, though its hard to stay mad at him when he says that he missed you. 

- Sudden butt pinches and grabs. He puts his hands behind his back whenever you turn to look at him, glancing away and whistling before looking at you with a little devilish smile. 

- Jaw kisses. He loves them and he loves giving them though he uses his for evil. 

- Cuddling? He loves it though it may be a bit difficult with his …injuries. You'll usually lay side by side and hold hands while you sleep or you’ll clutch his hand  to your chest and snuggle into that. 

- You can’t exactly go on dates so you’ll have to find things to do at home, unless you want to go somewhere very secluded. 

- Picnics in the woods. 

- Late night walks. You’re pretty much only able to go out with him when it’s dark, otherwise you’ll have to pretend he’s not there which certainly puts a damper on things. 

- Curling up on the couch together with some hot chocolate and a corny sitcom. 

- Giving him some goddamn toast. There's not much to eat in the spirit world and god does he miss your cooking. Would you mind making him something?

- Talking to a corpse is boring. To him, you’re a much better conversationalist, even if you think you're a bad one. 

- He has a bad habit of speaking when he shouldn't or saying the wrong thing. Nowadays, there’s not too many instances where that's a problem though it’s certainly earned him a few glares from you. 

- Lovingly calling him meatloaf and chopped liver. He …tolerates it; only because you look at him so sweetly when you do so. 

- Is he legally obligated to say your name; at least, twice during every conversation of yours? At this point, you’re honestly pretty sure he is. He doesn’t use nicknames though he doesn’t have anything against them, he just prefers saying your real name. 

- He has kind eyes, doesn’t he? It seems like whenever you turn to him, he’s always gazing down at you with this sincere look of absolute adoration. It makes your heart skip a beat every time. 

- Jack is a bit naive when it comes to girls or, rather, girls he’s in love with. He always believes what you say and falls for your devilish little tricks. 

- David definitely teased him relentlessly for his crush on you and was betting on the two of you getting together. The circumstances aren’t the best but at least it happened, right? 

- He’s a fan of old literature and makes references to it whenever he can. If he finds out you haven't read his favorite novel, he will literally sit you down and force you to.  

- Teasing compliments. They aren’t the most romantic but hey, they still make you smile. 

 “Baby there is nothing mediocre about your body.”

- He likes sitting in your bathroom while you take a shower so that the two of you can talk. He also likes doing it so he can watch you shower but you like to focus on his interest in what you have to say, it’s much sweeter. 

-  He’s a horny boy, even in death. Are ghost boners a thing? Well he’s certainly gonna find out. 

- Being welcomed home by a smooth jazz record and him patiently awaiting your arrival with a somewhat suggestive grin.

- Every time you say something all lovey dovey to him, he swears his heart nearly starts beating again. He never knows what to say back, he usually just turns red and laughs all shyly.  

- He makes a big deal out of your birthdays, he doesn’t let you just forget about them or treat them like any other day. You’re alive! You’re another whole year older! …Fuck! …You’re aging and you’re going to keep aging.... He’ll try not to think about that part. 

- Getting to hear little bits of gossip. No one can see him so he’s certainly witnessed some interesting things, interesting things he likes to tell you about. 

- Nosy ghosty. He snoops around your stuff constantly. He’s practically memorized your entire house down to a T. 

- Having to accept that there’s a lot of supernatural things in the world. Werewolves, ghosts, and who knows what else; they’re all real and your life has just been completely normal up until now. 

- Getting to have all of your questions about death answered though some of the more painful things, he’ll keep a secret just because he doesn’t want to make you upset. 

- I feel as though his looks can depend on his mood and also the type of spiritual day it is. You know how some days are considered more spiritual than others? Well on those days, he’s normal, looking very chipper and with a lot of energy. On bad days, he’s practically a skeleton with a few flaps of dried up skin. 

- He usually hides away during his bad days, not wanting you to see him like that and be scared away. You reassure him that you’ll love him no matter what but a part of you is sort of thankful. You don’t know if you want to see him all horribly decomposed. 

- He does get jealous. I mean, he’s a ghost, you're human. Plus, he was a loser in life, why wouldn’t you pick the attractive living guy whose hitting on you over him. 

- He uses humor to pretend like he isn't bothered by the guys actions but will call him an asshole or something otherwise insulting later when you're alone together. Like out of nowhere, he’ll make some offhanded comment about the guy and you’ll realize he’s still mad about it. You just agree with him and give him a kiss. 

- A part of him; a selfish, disgusting part of him wishes that you were dead. That something would happen to you, something quick and painless but something. On one hand, he wants you to live the life that he couldn't. But he also can’t help but want you with him, encased in eternity as beautiful as always and just how he remembers you. 

- He used to be more of a coward but now that he’s dead, he really has nothing to fear, does he? The only thing he’s worried about is your wellbeing. 

- You’re very good at changing his mind and convincing him to do things. He defends himself by saying its because he likes you so much and that you should consider yourself lucky that he does. 

- He’s not stupid, maybe a bit cowardly at times but not stupid, if something doesn't feel right he’s getting the hell out of there and making sure he takes you right along with him. As much as he’d love an equally undead girlfriend, he knows you aren’t ready to go and shouldn’t be going. 

- He’s quite protective of you. He hates even thinking about you being hurt in any way. He literally can’t even hear about it in hypothetical situations. 

- He cant stand seeing you cry. He never knows what to say or do. He always yearns to comfort you but god, how does he do that? He’ll usually just rub your back and let you cry into his shoulder, trying his best to crack some carefully selected jokes in an attempt to make you feel better. 

- He can be annoyingly persistent when he wants something. He wont let up so unless you’ve got real thick skin and the patience of a saint. You’ll wind up doing what he asks just to get him off your case. If you don’t do it for him, he’ll wind up doing it for himself anyways so don’t sweat it too much.

- There's constant short lived bickering between the two of you. It’s just how he is. He’s a smartass, especially when something bothering him and highly argumentative when something doesn’t sit right with him. You don’t have all that many real fights though. 

- He apologizes when he’s in the wrong or when he feels that he could have handled things better, shyly and jokingly pleading with you to not try and exorcise him while pressing little kisses across your face. 

- He doesn't say he loves you very often. He deems it a very serious thing to say and saying it makes him nervous so he keeps it reserved for special moments. 

- Well, he’s not going anywhere anytime soon so I hope you’re ready for a long relationship. 

[delldarling]

confession | merrick

chasing truth | chapter five male faerie x gender/body neutral reader 6330 words lime | nakedness, cuddling, lots of smooches! but also some angst note: Not going to lie, this is one of my favorite parts. Hope everyone enjoys! chapter index? or chapter four?

⊱ ────── .⋅ 🜁 ⋅. ────── ⊰

Merrick is a faerie.

The knowledge knocks you for a solid loop, leaving your breath coming fast and your shoulders tense for all of three seconds before you’re shaking it off. You laugh instead, short and sharp. You can’t help it, even though you don’t really find any of this particularly amusing. It’s just.. you immediately want to reject the thought. Merrick. Sarcastic Merrick, with his aversion to most modern day tech and his disdain for questions. Merrick, who has wing tattoos and pointed ears and- He doesn’t glitter. He can’t be some kind of fairy tale creature... can he? You aren’t living in some kind of coming of age story, where the weird new boy at high school ends up being a vampire. You’re not in high school, and all that paranormal stuff is just...

Your eyes are drawn back to the wing tattoos. The top pair curls around his shoulders and biceps, while the second goes straight down his back and over his ass, laid flat along his fair skin. They look real enough. They have a strange texture to them even, but tattoos can do that, right? They can have raised edges, can make the skin rough, depending on ink or the kind of needle or- tattoos are like scarring, so texture makes sense. Though this is the most you’ve ever thought about tattoos while lying in bed next to someone in the dark 

You sit up, achingly slow, trying not to worry at your bottom lip as you keep staring. He has ear mods—or they’re real, your brain insists. And there had been some kind of light or glow in the room earlier.. 

This is silly. You lay back down, huffing before you focus on trying not to make any noise. You draw the tangled sheets up over yourself and Merrick, and the only thing left to do is grab some sleep. This will make so much more sense in the morning, you’re absolutely sure of it. 

It doesn’t. 

You wake before Merrick, still tired, but restless and turn to face him. His mouth is partially open, lips pink and soft, and his body is close to the edge of the mattress. His arm is thrown over the edge, fingers likely dangling close to the floor, but he doesn’t so much as twitch when you get up. You tug on your trousers, mulling over what you know of Merrick, trying desperately to come up with some other kind of solution. But it all makes a heart wrenching kind of sense. Faeries aren’t supposed to be able to lie, and you don’t know that Merrick has ever lied to you. Most people do, in small ways. 

Say someone moved something, and they’re not sure you saw them do it - half the time they’ll insist they never touched the item. Some people will peek over your shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of the book you’re reading or the image on your phone and when confronted? They’ll lie. Plenty of people will spare feelings with white lies too. But Merrick? He's never spared anyone's feelings. Even if someone has asked him not to do something, and he does it, he’ll admit to it readily. He words answers so strangely, like he has to think over every syllable as he speaks, but he’s never lied. It’s part of why some people find him a bit irritating and others are drawn in. It’s why his laziness sometimes drives you up the wall. He’s so fucking honest about it that it’s hard to stay angry with him.

And why would Merrick—stoic, sarcastic Merrick—get faerie wing tattoos and ear mods when he’s never shown the slightest interest in anything to do with them?    

“Okay,” you whisper to yourself, turning to glance at your window, growing lighter with every passing second. You shove your arms through your shirt sleeves, but you pause before you pull it over your head. “Just ask. Just ask a direct question, and then he’ll have to answer—or he won’t, and that will be an answer too. Direct,” you repeat, sucking in a breath. Part of you thinks he might laugh at you as soon as you ask though.

He’ll drop the act and claim it’s because of some sort of… Vow, or whatever, something religious maybe, that makes him only speak truth. And the whole faerie thing? Is something he did before he took the vow and it was all just a joke. Just a weird, perhaps unhealthy interest in fantasy oriented things that he shook off after his religious vow.. You cringe. None of that sounds right when applied to Merrick. Not in the slightest.  

Merrick yawns, and you can’t help staring at his mouth, hyper-focusing on the beauty mark on his chin and the memory of kissing it—multiple times—last night. His eyes flutter open and for a moment he looks confused, gaze lazily sweeping the room until his eyes catch on your face. Then his smile is radiant. You’ve never seen him look so happy, so much like something out of a literal fairy tale book, with rosy cheeks and lovely curls.

You were planning on leading up to it, and even now you’re tempted to cross back to the bed, throw yourself down in it and let him pull you into his arms. It’s probably what he’s expecting, and you can’t lie to yourself and say you wouldn’t expect the same if the tables were turned. It's what you would want, but the knowledge sits heavy in the pit of your stomach. Tripping over your own tongue, cursing yourself for letting your thoughts run away with you, you blurt: “Are you a faerie?”

Your shirt still isn’t entirely on, so you tug it over your head, sparing yourself the sight of his face for a few seconds more. It’s nothing, you tell yourself, straightening the way the shirt sits on your shoulders, trying to steady your breathing. This isn’t anything to worry about. You chance a look at him, heart pounding. His face is blank.

“What?” He finally asks, and his voice is soft and careful. He probably just thinks you’re acting crazy, but his hands are clutching at the sheets a little too tightly and his shoulders are growing tense. 

“A- A faerie,” you repeat, and your heart falls. He doesn’t laugh, and the moment stretches, utterly silent. He still hasn't laughed, and now that you’ve said the words, you’re halfway convinced. “Those tattoos are- they’re intense, okay? People get weird tattoos all the time, so if that’s all they are, I’m not judging, they’re gorgeous but... And your ears. Did you really go out and get ear mods?”

Merrick just stares, all the sweetness having faded from his expression. He curls into his pillow, like he's trying to use it as a shield, worrying at his lower lip. 

“I didn’t get ear mods,” he murmurs, and… Doesn’t say anything else. You catch sight of his pulse jumping in his neck though, a furrow deepening between his brows and that makes you sigh. You walk back to the bed, trying not to twist your hands. 

“Okay, you didn’t get ear mods. Merrick, are you a faerie? Or some kind of elf? I don’t know what, what classifications there are, or-”

He laughs, though the look on his face isn’t funny at all and then he covers his face with both hands, rolling over until he’s muffled by both pillows. He says something then, just low enough that you can’t quite hear, though you don’t push for him to repeat it. You sit on the edge of the bed, reaching out, hesitating for barely a moment before you’re stroking your hand down his back. Some of the tightness eases out of his shoulders with every pass of your hand. 

“What if I was?” He asks, turning back towards you, letting his hands slide off of his face. He catches your hand when you start to pull away, unsure if you should stop touching him or not. He tangles his fingers with yours, not painfully, but tightly, holding on like he's trying to keep you both in place. “If I was, what would you do?”

All you can do is stare at him. He whispers your name, thumb stroking over the pulse in your wrist.

“I don’t know,” you tell him honestly. “I mean - Faeries can’t lie, am I right?” He doesn’t answer, so you forge on ahead anyway. “So that means you haven’t ever lied to me about anything. There are always people who omit things—and some people call that lying, but it’s not like I ever asked if you were human before, have I?”

“You haven’t,” he whispers, and his lips tremble, though whether it’s with happiness or sadness or some other emotion, you don’t know. 

“So you haven’t lied to me, and that’s nice? Truth is always appreciated. And I just- I really don’t know, Merrick. What does that entail? Do you- do you secretly drink morning dew-”

“I haven’t even answered whether I’m a faerie or not, and now you’re asking about morning dew,” he complains, and there it is. A bright spark of his normal self. Some of the strange tension eases from the room and you settle more fully on the bed.

“You’re not angry?” He asks, reaching up to cup your cheek, and then it’s your turn to scowl. 

“Merrick, can you answer the question?”

“I can,” he replies readily, lashes shading his eyes as they dart to your mouth. 

“Then are you going to tell me, because-”

“I’ll show you,” he interrupts, lifting his gaze back to yours. “If you’d like. For- for a kiss, I’ll show you.”

You hesitate for a fraction of a second. He makes it sound like he’s going to change so utterly that he fears you won’t want to kiss him. You trust him. 

“A kiss then,” you whisper, and lean down to press your lips to his.

It is... entirely more than a kiss. 

Kisses always sound like soft, sweet things. A kiss is the careful alignment and brush of lips, and that’s how it starts, of course, but this is more. This is the in and exhalation of air, this is shared breath and space and the taste of yearning. More than touching lips, it’s exchanging atoms, spiraling into the depths of your chest before your mouths are sealed together. Merrick raises a hand, those long fingers careful as they slide along your jaw and curl around the back of your neck. You aren’t ashamed to say that you forget why you’re kissing him for a few moments, lost in sensation. He raises himself up on his elbow and then he’s leaning into you so completely that you have to shift back onto the bed or risk being pushed off.

He straddles your thighs, changing the angle of the kiss, and you can’t help cradling his face in your hands, arching your neck to keep the kiss going as he slowly lays you back against the bed. 

You make a soft sound against his mouth, and his tongue strokes over yours, like he’s eager for the taste of your noise, and then there’s a brightness flaring through the room. Even with your eyes closed you can sense it, almost warm— and then you tilt your head to break the kiss. Merrick lets you go, but he doesn’t drop his hand from the back of your neck, and with his face so close you can’t quite see at first. As soon as your eyes adjust though, your eyebrows raise.

“Oh,” you whisper, and Merrick finally, slowly, releases you. He sits back, though he keeps his full weight from resting on your legs, hands balanced on his knees. His cheeks are bright and when he meets your gaze, he quickly turns his eyes down to the bedspread tangled under you both. 

There are four wings coming out of his back, larger than you had imagined. They’re thin and iridescent, and again you’re reminded more of bees or beetles than of butterfly wings. Suddenly they flutter, too fast for your eyes to follow, and there’s a soft buzz of noise that accompanies the movement, filling the room before Merrick’s shoulders hunch and they stop. You’re fairly sure he’s forcing himself not to move them.

Beyond the wings, his hair and eyes and ears are much the same, but there’s an… aura almost, that accounts for the feeling of light. You can’t focus on it—as soon as you do it seems to vanish, but if you stare at his face-

“Prettier than Fern Gully,” you tease, letting your hands come to rest on his thighs. He moves his hands, hesitating, hovering them over yours before he finally trails his fingertips over your knuckles. 

Merrick arches an eyebrow and a soft huff escapes his chest. “No more questions for me about morning dew?” He asks, and he hesitates when he starts to lean towards you. You solve the problem by slipping a hand out from underneath his, reaching up and tugging at his earlobe, urging him to come closer. 

It doesn’t matter. He can’t lie. He has wings and pointed ears and there is so much you don’t know about him, but.. He’s Merrick. 

“I can’t deny I’m still curious about that. You’re a picky eater, you know, and other than that one drink at Corner Pocket-”

Merrick makes a disparaging noise. “I don’t know that I’ve ever heard any of you get on Gar for his eating habits—” he starts, dark eyes narrowed, and then his mouth snaps shut and his wings buzz against his back, tickling your legs, even through your trousers. You have to keep yourself from kicking at the sensation, but then his words seem to penetrate your brain and you feel your jaw growing slack. 

“Gar,” is all you say, and then Merrick is closing his eyes and forcing himself to breathe rhythmically. “Garrick?”

“Is this all it takes?” He mutters, trying, and failing, to brush his curls off of his forehead. “One secret and then they all just fall out?”

“Is he a Gar-goyle?” You try, wondering, and promptly burst into laughter when Merrick gives you a decidedly unamused stare, dropping his arms back down to his sides. “Are vampires real too?” You ask instead of continuing to ask after Gar. You doubt, very much, that he wants to talk about your friend and his.. Erstwhile? Roommate. Not while he’s sitting naked on your thighs. And it’s not really his secret to tell, either. You don’t want to inadvertently have him betray anyone's trust, not when just having this small kernel of information might be too much.  

He ignores your question, leaning forward and bracing himself over you, eyes darting down to your lips and then back up to your eyes. “You’re not angry with me,” he murmurs, like he’s only just realized. “You’re not- not throwing me out or pushing me away. You know what I am and you still-”

“I told you,” you interrupt, brushing your thumb over the beauty mark next to his mouth. “You haven’t lied to me. Not really. I have questions because I’m human and we’re utterly curious creatures—but you’re still..” You search his eyes. He has the same ink-dark irises and pale eyelashes. He always gets that sour twist to his mouth when he doesn’t find something particularly funny. He’s always made your heart beat double time when he says your name. “You’re still you. And, I don’t know if you remember, but last night you told me you now have the only thing you’ve ever wanted and—that’s intense, coming from someone who can’t lie.” That thought alone makes everything feel utterly surreal. More than the wings on his back, or the pointed ears poking out from his curls, you can’t quite believe that he’s returning your feelings, that... that he felt the same, for so very long.

His eyes fall closed, eyebrows drawn together like he’s in pain, and then he’s kissing you again. He nips at your lower lip, hand pressed gently into the middle of your chest, and shifts his legs until his erection is pressed against you. You raise your thigh so he’s pressed a little tighter to you, hands sliding down to rest at his hips. Merrick pauses in his trail of kisses along your neck, breathing deep, but he still ruts against you, eager for more contact.  

“You’ve no idea,” he murmurs against your throat, and the whisper of his breath makes you shiver. “How relieved I am. You still- you want me?” He nips again, hand shaking slightly against your chest when you tell him yes and of course. 

A sucking kiss against the juncture of your neck and shoulder has you tugging on his hips. You regret putting your clothes on now. It’d seemed so important earlier, but- 

Merrick is a faerie. His wings buzz when you make a soft noise, and you catch sight of the barest flash of embarrassment on his face before he’s nosing at the collar of your shirt, hand slipping underneath the hem. That haze, that- corona of a glow, faint in the corner of your eye, brightens when his mouth touches your skin again.

“Merrick,” you murmur, and notice a slight twitch in his fingertips. You must stiffen, because Merrick leans back, eyes heavy lidded, but focused intently on your face.

Faeries aren’t supposed to share their true names, right?

“Is- Is that your name? Or, part of it, I don’t-”

The hint of wariness in him vanishes and Merrick’s mouth curls into a smirk. “You’ve heard about true names then?”

You push gently at his chest, laughing when his smirk only deepens. “Yes, I’ve heard about true names. Someone, somewhere can always quote stories about faeries and true names. Wait- don’t tell me, is it Rumpelstiltskin?”

He shakes his head and leans in close again for another kiss. “You’ll never cease to surprise me, will you?” He asks, a dimple appearing when you kiss that sweet little beauty mark on his chin. “No, it’s not Rumpelstiltskin. Faerie names are much simpler than a long, strange sounding word that we think no one will ever guess,.” After a moment, his nose wrinkles. “Though I suppose it’s that, too.”

“Faerie names are simple?” You ask, and you’re listening, you are, but it’s still so hard to think with him so close to you, let alone when you’ve been exchanging kisses. 

Merrick braces himself on his forearm and leans his chin against your shoulder, tapping his fingers idly on the sheets. “We are every name, every title, given to us. We are the names our forebears gave us, and the nonsense names our parents tease us with and affectionate names from our friends and loved ones. My name is Merrick, now. I took it before I came here, and having it shaped who I am, who I’ve been in my time here. I’m Mer and Rick, and-” He sighs. “I’m Merry Rick, as well,” he mutters, rolling his eyes as he says it.

One of the local drunkards at the bar had once slurred the name, laughing and repeating it for any and all who would listen. Gar had gotten a good laugh out of it, had even said something about Merrick needing a healthy dose of merriment in his life.

“That’s a lot of names,” you say, unable to fight the grin on your face. Merry Rick, indeed.

“I would be willing to bet, if this Rumplestiltskin truly came from Faerie, that his true names all start with the letters that spell out Rumplestiltskin.” Merrick shrugs. “If that were the case, I’m not entirely sure I could pronounce the string of letters I consist of. So yes, Merrick is my name. Not the only one, not even close, but it is the person I am, here.”

You have to concentrate, to force yourself not to ask him for any of his other names, but you wonder if he can see the desire in your eyes. 

“I was recently called Aodhfin, in Faerie,” he murmurs, and it sounds almost like Aiden, with a soft f in the middle, even though the word has a sharpness to it. The smile on his face turns a little brittle. “The King gave me that name. White Fire, because I have always burned hot. Because I don’t leave even ash behind when-” Merrick’s jaw clamps shut, blowing out a breath through his nose. A frown grows on his face.

“It’s not a name I thought I would ever share,” he mutters, and glances away from you. “It is the name of someone who lived only for the task at hand, and not for those who surrounded him. I thought I needed no one. Faeries are…” He huffs, leaning into your touch when you turn his face back towards you. 

“If you’re not ready to talk about everything, that’s alright. I mean- I just found out my- my boyfriend?” You say, almost breathless, and take Merrick’s quick grin for a mild agreement, though actual labels can be figured out later. “I found out you have wings and like a hundred names or something. I can be patient if you’re not ready to share other things.”

“It’s just this: The Faerie do not show affection so freely as humans do. There is.. Safety, in the detachment of the Fae, but nothing has ever warmed the core of me like the kindness and care you’ve shown.” Merrick’s expression is earnest, intense.

“Smooth talker,” you sass, feeling your heart jump when he arches an eyebrow. He looks brighter, but you can’t decide whether it’s his Faerie-side showing, or if it’s simply the endorphins, giving everything in the vicinity a rosy glow.

“There are things I don’t want to tell you,” he confesses, and you can’t help but feel the need to reiterate: you don’t ca—no. It’s not that you don’t care, it’s that, even as people, if you were both humans and you started dating, you wouldn’t expect him to share his life's story. You’ve known him for a year! You’re not exactly rushing into things here. 

“They can wait,” you finally get out, turning slightly, until Merrick has to shift so you can lay side by side. His leg is still thrown over yours though, and you have to force yourself not to look down, to get distracted by his nakedness. “I’m not going to force you to tell me, I promise.”

“I know,” he says, voice soft as he presses his forehead to yours. “But I need to tell you at least a few things today. Now, even.”

“I…” You feel like a break between bombs might be important, but if Merrick says he has to tell you? “Okay,” you agree, willingly letting him reel you into his arms, until your chin is hooked over his shoulder. 

In stilting, awkward tones, Merrick tells you how he came to be here. How he was chosen, and what exactly, he was chosen for. He tenses the longer he speaks, and for a second you think he’s going to pull you closer, afraid that you might turn away. Instead Merrick’s hold on you loosens and he leans back far enough to look you in the face. 

“I didn’t complete the task I was given. I didn’t kill Gar. I don’t want to. While I believe I made the right decision, that doesn’t change what my Court, or Gar’s Court wants. They’ve sent someone else, and while they might not be familiar with the human realm, I… I need to lay low.” He finally glances away, guilt written in the hunch of his shoulders as he continues. “I don’t know that I should even be here right now, because I don’t want to chance them finding you.”

You let him ramble about danger for another few minutes before you thump your hand solidly against his chest, mouth twisting into a frown. “You’re going to pull the whole it’s not safe for you, schtick?”

Merrick’s wariness fades almost immediately, and he scowls. 

“Don’t look at me like that! You said it yourself, okay, you need to lay low, and whoever came isn’t going to be familiar with the human realm-”

“We hope they aren’t,” Merrick corrects. “Those much older have little desire to leave Faerie, and it’s likely that anyone with experience of your realm will be centuries behind the times.” Merrick opens his mouth, waffles over the next words he plans to say and then shrugs, finally settling on: “It’s not a guarantee, though.”

“Laying low,” you repeat, ticking the list off on your fingers. “No glamour, keep in contact-" You pause, a thought occurring to you. "When was the last time you and Gar checked in with each other?”

Merrick doesn’t move, but the pause after he opens his mouth is all the answer you need. You make what you think is a decent attempt at copying his arched brow. “I was distracted,” he mutters, tone a little sullen. He still gets to his feet, even as he glances longingly at your legs, cheeks turning faintly pink. He moves towards the clothes he’d abandoned in the living room, wings fluttering as he walks through the doorway.

“Can’t exactly say I wasn’t,” you add, hoping you sound encouraging, because this—Learning Merrick is a Faerie? Surprising, but… okay. You’ve filed that knowledge into a place titled: Things You Can Handle. That he was employed as some kind of assassin? You shake your head, unsure what to do with that particular detail. You’re still kind of processing here. You won’t tell him it was a mistake to share the information—you’d meant it when you told him that truth was appreciated—but it’s a lot.

The thought of him up and vanishing to keep you safe is at the forefront of your mind anyway, so you let your brain focus on that. You follow him into the living room, arms wrapped loosely around yourself, and politely avert your eyes when he bends over to rummage through his clothes. Maybe you peek, eyes catching on the gleam of his wings in the sunlight, but only for a moment. 

“Yesterday evening he said he was fine,” Merrick mutters, standing back up and scrolling through his messages. Your eyes dart back to his face. The image of him now is absolutely surreal, standing in the sunshine with iridescent wings, holding a phone of all things. He looks like he should be posing for some kind of magazine. 

“Do you want to check in with him now, then? The sun is fully up, and—” You sigh, watching Merrick set his phone aside on the kitchen counter, his tongue flicking out to wet his lower lip. "You aren't going to?"

"I will soon," he reassures you. "I'm not trying to pull anything. It's the truth! Me staying here probably isn’t the best—"

"You said something about glamour?" You interrupt, heart jumping when he turns around and walks towards you. "Merrick, it is—it is difficult to talk about things like this when you- Do Faeries generally walk around naked?" You ask, knowing that your embarrassment is written all over your face. With the way he stands, the way his lips twitch when he knows you’re looking, it feels like an invitation to touch him.

Merrick's arms slip around your unresisting body, but instead of pushing for something heated, he gently kisses your forehead. "I wish I could say we do, just to see the look on your face," he says with a sigh, thumb brushing over your cheek.  

You scoff, tempted to push him away when you catch sight of the small smirk in the corner of his mouth, but you still lean against him, into him, eyes falling closed. Touching him at all might be distracting, it’s still so new, but being allowed this after a year of pining... Even if he never returned your feelings, you’ve always known he still cared. There’s always been something between the two of you, it’s still just kind of mind blowing, knowing it’s not friendship alone.   

"Then you're just doing this to try and distract me," you whisper against his neck, opening your eyes again when his wings buzz. You’ve kept your hands to his hips, worried about where exactly you should place them to keep from damaging his wings, but Merrick doesn’t seem to notice, even when the edges of them brush against your hands. 

"Maybe," he sighs, draping his arms over your shoulders. "Yes. You have to understand, I don't want to leave—"

"Then explain this glamour business to me again. Tell me how Fae can track each other using it, because it sounds to me like you don’t need to leave.” Your fingers twitch, half wanting to feel his wings buzz over your fingers. “Running around out on the streets sounds much more dangerous! Especially after you’ve said that you haven’t been using glamour here.”

Merrick grumbles, finally stepping away and picking his clothes up off of the ground. As much as you’d like to let him distract you, you’d rather him stick around for more than just a confession and romp in the sheets.

“It’s almost like… Heat, when we use our glamour. Or light. There isn’t actually any lingering residue that you can physically see or smell, but Faeries can feel it.” Merrick picks up his shirt, starts to lift it over his head, and then he frowns. He rolls his shoulder, dropping the shirt back down to the ground, and lays his wings flat against his body. He strokes his hands slowly over what he can reach of his shoulders, and the wings—You don’t quite have the words for it. Shift? Slide? They merge with his skin, until all that’s left of them is the larger than life tattoos. They’re still ridiculously cool looking on him, but it’s hard to be quite as impressed after having seen the actual thing. He picks up his shirt again, like he’s just done nothing at all.

“Was that glamour?” You can’t help asking.

Merrick’s smile is a little more genuine now. “Not a form that most can track, anyway. I’m not taking away a part of myself, only bringing it closer. What Gar usually does, the way he hides his ears and his hands-”

“His hands?” You say, before you can think better of it. You shake your head, sighing, as he proceeds to dress himself. 

“Who was it that was distracted?” He murmurs, a little heavy handed as he buttons his trousers. “What I was saying,” he continues, as if you never interrupted, “is that Gar’s form of glamour, taking away from himself, leaves a kind of… Gap. We might not realize at first, even though Faeries can see through glamour, but we’ll realize that something feels like it’s missing from them. More so when they’re trying to hide themselves entirely. This- wait,” he says, turning towards a soft buzzing from the kitchen. His phone is ringing. It’s probably Gar, calling to check in.

You turn towards the sliding glass door, intent on giving him a bit of privacy. He might be willing to share all the knowledge he has at hand, but there’s no need to eavesdrop. You slide it open, realizing as the fresh breeze blows through that the apartment probably smells entirely of sex. There’s no time to really be embarrassed about it though, because a heavy shadow falls over your face.

For just a moment, you find yourself wondering if this is what Gar has been hiding of himself. Merrick still essentially looks much the same, so you’re confused about why Gar would change his appearance so completely—But there is none of Gar’s soft smiles or contagious energy about the Faerie lighting down onto your balcony. 

The man standing in front of you is tall and thin, and sharply beautiful. His hair is black, as are his eyes, and unlike Merrick, he’s made no effort at all to hide his otherness. His wings are splayed wide, pointed and layered like a bird, but they’re still crystalline and reminiscent of an insect. There’s a strange paleness to him, trailing him like smoke, and there’s a smattering of freckles spread over his serious face. 

“Roran,” Merrick chokes out from somewhere behind you, and the faerie turns his eyes away from you. Then the room is chaos.

You know the unknown faerie made a grab for you, you felt fingertips just barely grazing your forearm, but Merrick has you wrapped in his arms and pressed against the wall next to the front door before you can blink. The couch is knocked over, as is an end table, and through Merrick’s phone, sitting forgotten on the counter, you think you can hear Gar’s voice, shouting repeatedly” “I’m coming, I’m on my way, I’m-”

“Aodhfin,” the faerie says, ignoring you entirely. He looks frightening. Frightened? He’s standing next to your overturned couch with pain on his face, hand still outstretched, searching Merrick over like he can’t believe his eyes. “The King believes you dead,” he finally says, and you don’t know him, you’ve never seen him before, but even you can tell that isn’t what he wants to say. 

Merrick’s arms are trembling around you, fingers smoothing awkwardly over your forearm, feeling for your pulse. You know there must be a reason for it, that something about your actions or the look on your face must have made him worried, but you’re not... You think you’re in shock. 

It’s one thing to find out that Merrick’s oddness was because he’s a Faerie. To have him reveal himself to you in a slow show of gleaming wings and a blushing face. It’s quite another to have an unhappy Fae fly onto your balcony with anguish rolling off of him in waves, near destroying your living room with one swipe of his arm. He must be the assassin that Merrick claimed was in town. Someone Merrick knows, it sounds like. 

“I know, Roran,” Merrick finally says, letting go of you only reluctantly. He tries to keep the other faerie from seeing you, angling his shoulders, pressing his back close to your face—but you meet the faerie—Roran’s narrow gaze and his lips thin with distaste. A chill settles into the marrow of your bones..

“I thought you were dead,” Roran adds, and he’s openly glaring now. Merrick shifts so until his line of sight is broken. Pressed between Merrick and the wall, all you can do is stare at his forgotten hat on your floor.

“I… I know,” Merrick says, and his shoulders droop.

A broken, haunting wail fills the apartment, followed closely by a thud. You bite down on your bottom lip, hands clutching awkwardly at Merrick, and try not to join in yourself. The noise is wretched, heart breaking, and then there’s a clatter as something is tossed towards Merrick’s feet. 

“I found this in the traitor’s home and I assumed the worst! The human realm is—it’s changed,” Roran whispers. “Even after I got here, I held out hope that you were simply taking your time. Never mind that you’ve never—I hoped, and then when I found that human-touched den, and this, this hidden under a bed? I was sure that he had taken it from you.”

Some part of you realizes that there’s another noise, far off, but getting closer, but none of you acknowledge it. 

“That was my room,” Merrick murmurs and the clack that reaches your ears sounds like teeth being clenched too tightly. “I left it there.”

“That’s what he told me,” Roran bites out. “I thought he was lying, was sure that the traitor was mad with lies, but then-”

The noise you’d heard blasts into the front door. The only reason it doesn’t bash Merrick in the face is because he has the reflexes to get out of the way, pulling you with him. Gar barrels in, breathless, his cheek bruised, lower lip bloody—and freezes when he sees Roran. His mouth opens, but he stops, hands unclenching as soon as he catches sight of you in Merrick’s arms.

“You cannot honestly be working with-” Roran starts to say, getting to his feet, and then you’re being pushed towards Gar, air rushing through your ears and muffling Roran’s speech. Gar steadies you, glances down at Merrick’s hat on your floor, and snatches it up. 

“Roran, I know you’re hurt—” Merrick begins and then you’re gasping and tripping as Gar pulls you out the door.

“Wait a minute,” you hiss, because you can’t leave him. That faerie, Roran is supposed to be some kind of assassin, isn’t he? If Gar leaves—

“I don’t know what you think you’re going to do, but Merrick will be handicapped if he’s attempting to shield you from harm. And his friend back there? I’m fairly sure that he’s a ‘take hostages now, ask questions later’ kind of guy.” Gar pauses and you stumble into his broad back while he glances between the staircase and the waiting elevator. 

“I, okay,” you say, because it’s.. It’s a reasonable decision, even if you don’t like it. “Uh, hi, Garrick, I hear that Faeries are real things?” 

He spares you a bright smile, and another flood of relief rolls through you. Faeries or not, Merrick and Gar are still themselves. Things are confusing as hell, but you can hold onto that much.

“Also, we’ve left behind my shoes, and while I am all about keeping you and Merrick out of the crossfire—I can’t exactly run around town barefoot.”

Gar’s smile wilts and he pulls you into the elevator, jabbing impatiently at the close door button. “Shoes, got it. We can make a pitstop. I’ve got to find a car somewhere anyway.”

“...A car?”

⊱ ────── .⋅ 🜁 ⋅. ────── ⊰

...turn the page?

[home-is-where-beels-tiddies-are]

i lost the post i had that gave all of caragan’s info, so i’ll just post it again here. first pic is caragan after they die, because only obey me could drive me to design a character post-death 

i did design the sigils myself. then i added the sin marks from the cards, put that little pact symbol on it, and i took the original symbols from the actual demons and simplified/altered them. because i didn’t think it was a good idea to use the actual symbols. don’t wanna manifest something ya know lmao 

very long info dump under the cut. (info dump is copied from the post i lost) and yeah, caragan is a generic super powerful protagonist. so prepare for cheese 

likes: drawing, reading, gaming, and staying at home. they are drawn to dark things; horror, dark colours, literally most things dark.

home/family: they live alone, but near their parents, and they visit almost daily. they have a cat and three snakes (while caragan is away, the fur and scale babies are taken care of, don’t worry) 

age: 27 yrs old, born Jan 7th 

gender: nonbinary, they/them 

height: 4′10 / 147 cm

occupation: part time job, they also make bits and bobs to sell; art, crochet, etc. they went back to college too (and how they signed up for a certain exchange program; in my headcanon, they signed up for it and expected something mundane) then, after their first visit to the devildom, they start learning about the peace that diavolo proposed in their own time, and volunteer for the human organizations involved 

the design after they die: neither angel or demon, appearance shows physical attributes of both. (i also have a lot of post-death info, but… this is already so much, so i will leave it out) the ref i made is below: (worth noting that before their “fall,” using the term very, very loosely, everything on them that is red was white)

appearence: 

they wear all black with small, brightly coloured accessories 

brightly coloured accessories are normally bracelets, scarves, or pins. socks are also always nauseatingly bright 

casual outside attire: black hoodie, black t shirts, black ripped jeans, and converse 

casual around the house attire: grey sweatpants, obnoxious socks, a tank top, and sometimes a sweater or jacket they’ve stolen from the brothers 

formal attire: usually a suit, but asmo can convince them to wear a dress by finding amazing ones and wearing a dress too 

school uniform: jacket sleeves rolled up, or while in classrooms, off completely. no tie, ever. dress pants, wears black flats instead of dress shoes. during their first year, they kept their hair in a ponytail in class 

always wearing their favourite necklace 

first year piercings:

left ear - bar piercing in top, three normal piercings on bottom

right ear - three normal piercings on bottom 

second visit piercings:

left ear - same

right ear - three normal piercings on bottom, and two new normal piercings on top 

they wear binders to their classes and almost always when they go out for less active shenanigans 

rarely wears a binder in the house of lamentation; the first thing they take off when they get home 

hair is greying on both sides of their head, also some greys on top

always, always has dark circles and bags under their eyes 

brothers + romance: they are absolutely smitten with all of them, and they are very blunt and obvious about it. their favourite, though, is beel. this is kept as plainly obvious as their feelings for the others. since they love all of the brothers, they don’t hide their attraction to anyone. for the most part, it works out. 

pact mark locations:  (see first ref pic) 

lucifer - throat 

mammon - upper back 

leviathan - lower back 

satan - left inner thigh 

asmo - right inner thigh 

beel - right inner wrist 

belphie - left inner wrist 

overall, they’re very shy and awkward, and they like to joke around to cover it up. generally quiet, even around those they’re comfortable with. (they don’t talk a lot unless they’re having a ‘moment’ - a day where they’re hyperactive) they have crippling anxiety and depression, but the medication they take eases it. gets irritable around loud noises/people. they make an attempt in having a decent sleep schedule, but most nights they’re awake for hours longer than they intend to be. sleep schedule is more erratic when in the devildom. (probably belphie’s fault.) 

everything below is uh… like, how they act/react to the other characters.  

lucifer:  they mirror what lucifer offers them; if he’s being soft, they will be soft in turn. if he is upset with them, they will apologize and attempt to do better, and they expect the same if the roles are reversed. stuff like that. they don’t openly flirt with lucifer the same way they do some others, instead they focus on gentle interactions. they kept close to lucifer when they first arrived in the devildom (when mammon ditched them) because they deemed him more trustworthy than anyone else. 

mammon:  when with mammon, every filter caragan has is demolished instantly. given mammon never tried to kill or charm them, they grew to respect him very quickly. they also don’t treat mammon like an idiot; they’ve dealt with that themselves enough. yes, they tell him off for doing things that will very clearly come back to bite him in the ass, but they never target his intelligence because they know he’s smarter than he lets on. they openly flirt with mammon because they like to make him blush. they both get into trouble often, but they have each others’ backs throughout. 

leviathan:  they don’t spend as much time with leviathan, but they do enjoy his company. they usually lock away their info dumping and interests, but not with leviathan. he gets to gush about the things he loves, and they match his energy. he tries to offer the same courtesy. they also like to flirt with leviathan to make him blush, but they don’t do it as heavily or as often because his rejections/self deprecating comments make them feel bad. they are also thankful that they can talk to him about their anxiety and he understands it. they rarely call him “levi.” 

satan:  they also don’t spend as much time with satan, but less so than leviathan. they can’t help but feel stupid when they’re with him, so they don’t socialize with him often. buuut any time he offers to socialize, they don’t turn him down. in fact, caragan gets excited. he’s also where they turn to when they’re struggling with their studies or curious about something demon related. they do attempt to joke around and flirt with him, but it’s like a game of chicken, and caragan always ducks out. fairly quickly, too. 

asmodeus:  caragan adores asmo, but they can’t really place why. they also consider him as much a work of art as he does himself. they are very soft with asmo and they rarely flirt with him in a conventional way. even though they reject most sexual advances, they are as handsy as asmo is. asmo is their official cuddle buddy and they love to shower him in gentle affection. if asmo is in sight, they can often be caught staring. at first, they’re very embarrassed by this, and the brothers poke fun. eventually, though, they’re utterly shameless and just widen their smile if asmo catches them. 

beelzebub:  they love beel more than life itself, and that is absolutely not an exaggeration. at first, they were very avoidant and anxious when it came to beel, but when they started to hang out with him, they found him very easy to be around. the attraction started then, but then became way too strong when beel went into full demon mode over his custard. (mood) they started following him around everywhere. they continued that trend well into the year and the following visit. they’re very affectionate and clingy, sitting his lap and hugging him constantly. they carry around as many snacks as their pockets can hold for beel and beel only. 

belphegor:  they knew from the start that belphie was lying to them in the attic and probably meant them harm, but they never held it against him. they never really held their death against him either. they’re quiet around belphie for the most part, even when they started to like him. they often nap with him (against their better judgement) too. the two of them talk a lot about their ideal “me and you and beel” future. more than is healthy. their conversations outside of that are often filled with snark and a weird tension that caragan doesn’t understand. it usually melts away after a cuddle and a nap, though. 

diavolo:  they instantly liked diavolo. they’re very cautious and anxious around him, but they try to be warm in their interactions with him. they do call him “lord diavolo,” and treat him with due respect. he usually throws them for a loop with most things he does, but they try to keep up and be understanding. they have a strong need to get closer to him, for reasons that they don’t understand or even try to understand. they don’t do much about it either. his demon form causes them to become flustered. very flustered. the not-oblivious brothers tease them for it. they have such a huge crush on him. 

barbatos:  they don’t interact with him that much, or try to interact with him outside of things that are necessary. they have nothing against him, they just don’t feel the need to. they’re very polite to him, as polite as they are to diavolo. while they’re curious about him, they don’t go out of their way to interact with him. there’s really not much there besides mild curiosity. 

solomon:  they think he gives off a copious amount of mischievous vibes and it puts them off. at first. they are kind and polite towards him, and they would consider him a friend. the friendship is essentially that “we have no friends in this class so we will become friends to fill the void. but only in this class. we will never speak to each other outside of this place.” it’s not nearly as specific, but that’s the flavour of friendship they have in the beginning. eventually, he grows on caragan and they end up looking forward to seeing him. they just find him very fun. 

simeon:  they think simeon is beautiful and has been caught staring almost as much as when they stare at asmo. with simeon though, they will never be shameless about their staring. they continue to be embarrassed about it forever. forever. they’re polite and kind to simeon, but they feel he keeps himself closed off from them. during their second visit to the devildom, with the play and all, they become a little scared of simeon. it doesn’t change the way they interact with him, but it does put them off for a bit. and after some overthinking, they end up being more drawn to him. 

luke:  they were very anxious around luke, at first. they don’t like kids, and generally become twice as awkward around them. eventually, they found him adorable. when they speak to him, they will focus on child logic, but they do speak to him the way they would speak to anyone. never patronising. happily helps him with studies if they can, gives him affirmation and reassurances whenever needed, and is protective. they have even been known to stand up to lesser demons when they target luke. (when simeon isn’t around; it’s rare) even though caragan is scared shitless the whole time, they try anyway. seeing as they’re only 4′10, they never make short jokes or anything of the like. when the brothers make short jokes, they shoot disapproving looks and will express disappointment if it drags on too long. 

the end of their life time:  they go on to live for a while, dedicating themselves entirely to diavolo on the human side of things, even becoming a public speaker for it. sharing their experiences n all that. which is something they’d never do for anything else. 

at a certain point though, about 50 yrs old or so, they do stop visiting the demon brothers because they’re getting old. they die shortly after in an accident. brothers don’t find out because caragan was already avoiding them. (though, there is general unease because of the bonds they have with caragan. they know something’s very, very wrong but not what. they fear the worst, and they’re right to.) 

but for all the things they did for “the cause,” they were to be judged in the celestial realm. (and… i see it as… in a horrible, horrible way, the big guy upstairs knew everything that would happen with lilith, and deemed her and her brothers an acceptable loss in exchange for peace. it was all orchestrated. i also think that diavolo knew the plan, for the most part. he has his own reasons for wanting the peace, but he does know what the plan was.) 

but they’re escorted to The Big Guy by simeon and luke (a cute reunion with hugs) and he straight up asks caragan what they want. like they can stay here, go to the devildom, or remain in the human realm. 

in any case, they’ll be given all the attributes needed to thrive in all three realms, but only if they continue in their trying to maintain peace. obviously, caragan is all for continuing. and of course, they choose to make their home with the brothers. god’s all like, “you will retain your angelic status, but you do have to fall to achieve the status of demon. are you sure?” they have to have demon attributes to ensure survival and comfort living among demons, so that’s why. 

and caragan straight up says, without missing a beat, “even heaven is hell without them.” everybody knows who they’re talking about. simeon is torn between “that’s so rude” and “that’s so sweet” and luke is horrified. god just laughs. 

they all talk a bit longer so caragan knows exactly what they’re getting into. they will have a lot of power as both angel and demon, but they have to keep their humanity in exchange for that power. which means, inevitably, their long life will become a curse. no human is built to live for a millennia, so it’ll take a toll on their mind and at the end of it all, they won’t be themselves anymore. 

caragan basically says, “yah, worth it. lezgo.” god hands them paperwork, some explaining what caragan is and why, as well as a peace treaty thing to give to diavolo when they get home. i was thinking it’d be something cheesy like “the treaty of the last fallen angel.” no more fallen angels after caragan, they fell so no one else has to again. idk, symbolism or something. but even the future angel/demon hybrids won’t have to fall. 

cue caragan yeeting themselves from the celestial realm. 

diavolo knows caragan’s about to fall (barbatos n all that) and gathers the brothers to the place it’ll be. caragan is just a ball of blue flames, then a crater, the brothers are baffled. 

falling hurts a shit ton (even without losing wings and all that), so caragan ends up crying, but they cry blood. (for angel reasons. i dunno why i think angels cry blood.) which drips from their face and onto the white fabric of the thing they’re wearing, and then everything white fades into a red, even the white of their eyes. (i want to try very roughly animating that one day.) 

then there’s another heart warming reunion, but also with a shit ton of heart break because not only did caragan die, they also just fell. the brothers are angy.

before the brothers can get all “let’s fight god,” caragan hands diavolo the paperwork, all of which he reads out loud for the brothers. 

uh. roll credits. 

just tidbits:

caragan is an angel of perseverance and a demon of despair. 

they have six wings and six eyes on each wing. 

their halo was a tangible ring of golden light, but when they fell, it became horns. but like… still in a ring shape. still a halo. just different. 

they are barefoot in their angel/demon form because they have talons and also just… hate shoes. 

when all the white turned red, all the gold turned silver. 

they look as they did during their second visit to the devildom when they enter their “afterlife.”  

their human form is also just… them. hoodie, ripped jeans, everything, they’re just themselves. 

[stuckonvenus]

𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 » Ellie & Becca

 Ｊｕｌｙ ３１ｓｔ， １９９８

The saying goes as such: the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb... or whatever. Honestly I have only ever applied this proverb to my relationship with my sister whenever we weren’t in mortal peril. While I have plenty of friends and acquaintances who I’ve shared battlefields with (i.e. the morning after a party), that never made me any closer to them in a real crisis. I would say about seventy-five percent of the time that the blood is thicker than the water, and the remaining twenty-five percent is when the water isn’t necessarily thicker, but more pressurized. That’s the only time in our lives when we’ve ever come together as sisters.

Well, this is the twenty five percent, and never has the feeling of being sucked and trapped against a fissure at the bottom of the Challenger Deep been more realized than now. It doesn’t help that my bladder is about to implode and leak the citrus-flavored toxic waste I’ve consumed in rapid succession over the past half hour into my visceral fat and contaminate all my vital organs. 

I waddle awkwardly through the narrow doorway of Page One and slam my tiny palm onto the countertop. A bookkeeper who I can recognize as my lab partner from sophomore year chemistry pokes his nose out from the novel he’s immersed in. Moby Dick. Jesus, who reads school assigned books after graduation?

“Hey, Drew-Drew,” I greet him, a lopsided grin fitted on my lips as he brushes his hair out of his eyes and offers me a smile in return. He has a lot more charisma than I remember. I think his eyes have gotten bigger and bluer, too. It reminds me of the water’s surface I’m staring up at from the very bottom of the ocean. “Where’s Becky at?”

Drew dog-ears his page — which is kind of disgusting to me, do they not sell bookmarks in this busted ass joint? — and he points toward the graphic novel section. “Over there, we just got Spider-Man #76, she’s stocking up.”

“... Didn’t #76 come out in January? Of last year?” I ask him. He opens his mouth so he can answer but I stop him with a raised hand. “No time. You’re lookin’ good, Drew-Drew, considerably less like a delicious pepperoni pizza. Keep it up with the Oxy Pads.” I say before pushing away from the counter and venturing off to my destination.

Indeed, my older sister is crouched down and rustling with a display, slightly disgruntled by the symmetry of the copies of Spider-Man she’s stocking. I don’t really have any witty remarks as a smooth enough introduction, so I settle with, “Need help?”

She whips around and I can almost hear the crack in her spinal cord from the velocity. “Lily?” she half-whispers. I forget that I haven’t seen her since late May, and also that I swore I’d never see her again.

“In the flesh,” I confirm and do a curtsey, which threatens my full bladder. I really need to piss soon or else I’ll die a terribly death in the shittiest bookstore on the eastern seaboard. “Do you have a sec? It’s 9-1-1.”

Becca’s expression shifts from awe and minor annoyance to something resembling concern as she pushes herself off her knees. “What is it?” she asks me, crossing her arms over her chest as a last resort defense mechanism. 

I don’t hesitate to hold up the plastic Walgreens bag I’ve carted with me for two blocks. She recognizes the items inside and her eyes go all moony and her jaw slacks a bit. I jerk my brows up expectantly and she assumes the position of utter bewilderment.

“Do you have a place I can empty the biohazardous contents of my bladder? It’s about to necrotize,” I hiss at her. She reaches down, digs in her pocket, unearths a bronze key and walks ahead of me at full speed. I have to waddle after her like a newly hatched penguin chick. It would be more humiliating if over half the population of Eden were literate, but alas...

Becca jams the keys into the lock and just about bodychecks the door so we can enter the rectangular bathroom. It’s cramped and the lighting resembles something out of a Hitchcock film, but who the fuck am I to be picky about where I take the most important whizz of my life?

I place the bag on the counter and take out the three empty full-sized cans of Surge I used to fuel my bladder before picking up the grossest thing I have ever held: a pregnancy test. I keep it in my grasp for a few passing beats, nearly crushing the box underneath my iron-tight grip before man-handling it open and tearing out the plastic stick that will determine my fate.

“This is by far the most unholy fortune telling experience ever,” I decide to joke as I witness my sister cower in the corner. You’d think by the looks of it she were the one whose life was about to change forever. “You think if I shake it a genie will come out and grant me three wishes?”

“... Only if it’s negative, as a gift,” Becca chimes in at last. “Otherwise not even God can save you.”

I let out an involuntary snort, because while my reflexes register this as a funny joke, I am actually scared shitless.

I stare at the porcelain toilet bowl. I feel sicker now looking at it than when I’ve genuinely been at risk for vomiting up my lunch. I could still do that, I’ve been puking like a bulimic for weeks now. The thought is almost comforting. Almost. I bite the bullet instead and yank my pants down, my boy pants, which I normally wear as a boy when I’ve got slightly wider hips and more junk to hide and taller legs to protect with denim fabric. Fuck me.

“I just... Hold it and piss, right?” I ask her, as if she’s gone through this before. I know for a fact she hasn’t, or else this wouldn’t be our first time. I’m surprised it’s our first time, actually, thinking that karma would’ve caught up with me a long time ago. 

“Just don’t get any on your hand.” Becca replies. Very helpful, I think, but rather than respond verbally I give a sigh of defeat and do what needs to be done. When my bladder is emptied an eternity later, I pull up my oversized pants and briefly grieve my dick before I place the test on the counter.

I glance over my shoulder at Becca, “It’s seasoned. Just gotta let it marinate.”

“Gross.” she says with a scrunched up nose.

I turn around and slide down the wall, an action she mimics a couple seconds later. I stare ahead, up at the light that’s screwed into a 70s pendant-shaped fixture, and pass the silence by making them flicker. I do this as a distraction from the materializing tension between us. Normally, this doesn’t happen, but then again our peril has only involved either extreme intoxication, pedos on AOL (during high school), or something about her and Gabriel’s arguments, which felt like walking through Reactor 4 in Chernobyl.

She’s the first one to say something.

“Whose is it? ... If it’s a thing,” she wonders, and as I look over at her I notice that her eyebrows are knitted together and her mouth is fixed downward. “... Please don’t tell me Topher’s.”

I chuckle at the idea. “I think if it were a thing and Topher’s, it’d have grown like a xenomorph baby and ripped itself out of my stomach by now,” I tell her. “I’d deserve that kind of karma for getting knocked up by him.”

“Xenomorph?” she says, and I open my mouth to offer an explanation before she finishes, “Alien. Right.”

“... Yeah, exactly,” I nod along. How in the hell did she remember that? We only ever sat through Alien and Aliens once, and I could’ve sworn she was too preoccupied reading a magazine to actually notice what was happening on screen. 

I also notice that she’s wearing my favorite striped turtleneck. Stone cold bitch.

Some things never change, huh?

Shit, I think I might cry.

This is why we’re siblings, I think, so I can hate her for wearing my favorite turtleneck while sitting by her side as we await Satan’s final decision on the state of my cursed uterus.

Tears prickle my vision but I blink them away. 

“Whose is it, then?” she wonders again. I visibly tense. This is probably where our unspoken, once-in-a-blue-moon loyalties end. How do you tell your sister that her ex-boyfriend is the reason you’re sitting in the dingy bathroom of her workplace with a piss-riddled stick inches away?

In the end, I don’t have to say anything at all. We look at each other simultaneously and she reads my expression with ease. Her features soften and I can see a glint of hurt in her eyes, and I expect ripples of betrayal to make themselves known across the rest of her body soon enough. But those ripples never come. The water I thought was loosening from around me doesn’t make a goddamn move. 

I’m still at the bottom of the Deep, but she’s with me now.

Her hand grips mine. Tight. I can feel our pulses match up in our paralleling wrists.

“I think it’s been enough time.” I say eventually. She doesn’t release my hand. Our shared warmth creates a comfortable friction between us. “... Will you hate me after this?”

Becca squeezes my hand. A heart beat jumps out from her touch to mine. “I think I’ve hated you enough for one summer.”

A smile flickers on the corner of my lips and I slowly depart my hand from hers. My palm is slick with sweat but I don’t mind. I stand up and feel my equilibrium struggle to steady itself before I’m ready to approach the counter. The test is still there, so I know this wasn’t an abstract fever dream I’ve had after discovering so much eerily similar history.

I’m not a fucking coward. I’m looking this shit straight on, no matter what. Do you think I’m afraid of a sign? Totally not. I lean over and stare down, my gaze idling at the base before finally fixating on the panel.

+

Holy shitstickers.

“... Becca?” I call out, my voice half gone from unknown forces. She perks up and I see her reflection in the mirror with widened eyes. “Do you have five bucks? I’m gonna need more Surge.”

[you-did-well-moon]

The Warmth Provided (1)

Type: fluff, angst, crack, college au, friends to lovers au

Word Count: 7,784

A/N: This was obviously just supposed to be a little imagine not more than 5k words, but it turned out to be three times as big. I really need to control myself as a writer from now on, and if you request anything from me don't expect it to be as big as this lol. This simply happened because I got the inspiration for it. Also im sorry but y/n real booboo the fool with this one. With that please enjoy and don't be afraid to talk to me. 

TW: mentions of mental illness, mentions of infidelity, awkward situations, toxicity from Sungjin, footsie

Part 1| Part 2| Part 3

You groaned whining at Sungjin and tugging at the very warm looking hoodie he wore. He gave an exasperated sigh not daring to even look at you knowing he would give in to your stupid puppy eyes. He put his face in his hands letting out a grunt that could only mean he was giving in to your temptations. You persisted, now putting both hands on his hoodie clad arm and leaning your head on his shoulder. You really could be evil sometimes.

“Y/n please-”

“Come on Sungjinie i’ll give it back by the end of class”

“You said the same thing last time, and you ran out of class WITH my hoodie peaches”

“It was buy one taco get another one free day at the cafeteria…”

You innocently smiled at him as he whipped his head to look at you with furrowed eyebrows and his facial features scrunched up. “Free tacos are on fridays. It was monday” he scoffed, shaking his head as if not being able to believe the audacity you had asking for his hoodie. You slowly blinked your eyes at him. “Sungjin I don’t even remember what month it is, and you want me to know what day it is! Am i a joke to you? You know what, don’t answer that asshole”

You sucked in air through your teeth and leaned back in your seat not being able to believe you and one of your best friends were arguing right before class was going to start because he wouldn’t give you his dumb hoodie. You had forgotten your own because you had spent around half an hour trying to pick what cereal you wanted to eat, and by the time you put the last darn Cheerio in your mouth you had five minutes to run to the opposite side of campus.

You really didn’t get why the human resources building was on the opposite side of campus from your apartment. It was only a matter of time before you actually woke up in time for the class. It didn’t matter because upon arrival to your seat in one of the middle rows in between Sungjin and Dowoon, you found out the professor was late to his own class. Probably still trying to convince his wife to stay with him. Poor man really couldn’t catch a break with that witch.

Mornings were always cold, and the building was also freezing. That brought you here, begging your best friend to let you borrow his hoodie which had cheese stains around the edges of the sleeves and smelled like ramen.

You were desperate.

You grimaced, turning your head to look at the sleeping Dowoon. There was no way you were waking him up to ask for his hoodie. Last time you did that he swung at you with his backpack -which had at least five books the size of your arm in it. Sungjin banned him from playing games for a month as punishment, but it didn’t stop the pain you felt when doing literally any kind of movement. From that moment onwards, you swore never to even look at Dowoon when he was sleeping. You liked your ribs just how they were.

In tact, and not broken.

You shivered, hugging yourself and grimacing at the thousands of goosebumps littering the bare skin of your arms. The feeling from the cold metal of the chair through your thin shirt making you all the more uncomfortable.

You inhaled sharply as you shifted and cold air blew against the exposed parts of your body. “Sungjin please, i’ll make it up to you just please give me your hoodie” you pleaded exposing yourself more to the cold by taking your hands from your body and bringing them together in a begging motion.

Sungjin looked at your shaking figure, worry in his eyes upon noticing your lips turning a paler color than the normal rosy tint they usually had. He threw his head back before giving you a sharp look and smacking his lips.

“Last time you wore my hoodie, you almost got me in trouble, peaches. Everyone thought-” he cut off not being able to make eye contact with you. Your head tilted and you pursed your lips blankly staring at your best friend. You repeated the unfinished thought pushing him to continue while he shook his head pinching the bridge of his nose.

He didn’t even look at you, his tone on the borderline of hopelessness and defeat when he asked you “Y/n, do you know what it means when a person wears someone else’s hoodie or jacket?”

You looked around af if you could find the answer in the tired faces of the students surrounding you before looking back at his hunched over figure and slowly blinking before adamantly answering, “They’re cold”

At your answer, the sleeping figure of Dowoon slightly shifted as he snorted muttering something about how dumb you were before moving in search of a more comfortable sleeping position. You were just about to raise your hand to retaliate with a slap to his back, but Sungjin caught your attention by belting out a disbelieving laugh now looking at you with wide eyes and an unamused smile.

“They thought we were dating, as in romantically involved, as in an intimate relationship, as in doing more than ki-” Sungjin was now rambling voice getting higher with each word before you cut him off with a light hit to his arm feeling your body grow hot in embarrassment.

“I-I know what dating is Sungjin” You hissed hands clenching around the arms of your chair and feeling your chest cave in as you gasped laughing it off awkwardly. “Come on Sungjin, let’s act like the adults that we are. We know we aren’t dating, and since when have you cared about what people think?” you searched his face looking for the answer in the hesitant shadows of his face.

“I don't,” he answered bitterly.

“Then what’s your problem?” You leaned in left speechless at the unexpected behavior of your friend. You felt like the whole situation was getting too serious over a stupid hoodie, so you tried easing the tension by joking around. “Would I be that bad to date?”

You immediately shrunk back giggling when Sungjin lifted his head from his hands for a little bit to glare at you nostrils flaring before shoving his face back into his hands.

“That’s not it and you know it,” he gritted out. Sungjin truly didn’t mean to get grumpy with you, he was having an internal conflict. Whether to tell you his friend’s secret, or to keep it to himself and not interfere. You were left to stare at him wondering if you should leave him alone for the rest of class while Sungjin went through a flashback that had put him on edge around you.

-2 days ago-

Sungjin groaned, shoving his face deeper into the soft fabric of his pillow and stretching his arm out to the nightstand next to his bed, hand fumbling around for the blaring alarm clock. He grumbled, lifting his head to groggily glare at the numbers displayed on the clock.

7:26

He had 34 minutes to get to his 8 am psychology class. He tiredly exhaled sitting up in his bed and rubbing his bleary eyes. He took a quick shower hoping it would wake him up, but the haziness of sleep still drifted around the corners of his mind. He could barely keep his eyes open as he brushed his teeth.

He threw the first thing he could find from his dresser figuring he could come back to change if he had any change to plans which right now was absolutely nothing. Sometimes he wondered why he had decided to be in a frat, he wasn’t the most social or the most popular, and he didn’t particularly like going to parties- but, he had met some people he could never dream of living without.

Like Dowoon, who he had to push off the bed with a promise that he could sleep in class later. He sighed watching the poor boy stumble as he tugged on a pair of jeans letting out a sigh of relief when he fell back on the bed.

Sungjin couldn’t help but smile. Even with all the people he had met because of the frat, Dowoom and you would be the closest friends he had in this stressful place. You guys were the foundation of everything he had ever found important. The people who guided him when he was lost, and he would be damned if he ever let his friendship with the both of you go.

He mindlessly grabbed his ramen smelling hoodie thinking you could use it if you forgot your own like you did every other day, or Dowoon could use it as a pillow if he was particularly tired like he was...every other day. Sungjin swore that kid had to stop taking the bus to random places late at night. It was a wonder how he hadn’t accidentally ended up in another city with his nightly escapades.

He was thinking about whether he would risk eating or not as he jogged down the stairs to get to the kitchen when he heard your name. He narrowed his eyes stopping right at the last step of the stairs thinking he was mishearing things. Wait- there it was again. Your name. His precious friend’s name.

Sungjin shrugged it off thinking they meant another Y/n, but he was quickly corrected when he heard your last name too.

His jaw ticked and his mouth suddenly felt dry as he wondered what you could have possibly done to have frat boys talking about you. He paused just right outside the kitchen wanting to hear just what they could have been talking about to be bringing you into the conversation.

“How would I know if the girl is single? I didn’t even know she existed before Jae mentioned her”

He heard the person scoff as confusion made Sungjin’s eyebrows tug together. You? In a relationship? You hadn’t had a boyfriend since high school, who he had to stop himself from pummeling into the ground when he cheated on you and had continuously tried getting you back. Sungjin swore you had the worst luck when it came to relationships.

Not only had you had a bad experience with one, but you were too naive when it came to people actually liking you. He had lost count of all the disappointed faces he had seen of people who had asked you out only for you to respond with one of your bright smiles along with something along the lines of “Sure, I would love to be your friend”.

He shivered wincing at the sole memory of some of them. He had never said anything because you had never mentioned liking them, and you told him everything. He really wished he could forget about the fact you sold Dowoon’s game controller in order to buy a Cheeto the shape of a heart which you then proceeded to eat without any regrets.

“Well then what are we supposed to do? Go up to the girl  and say “Hey, you don’t know who the hell we are, but we would like to know about your relationship status because you don’t have a Facebook we can stalk to see whether your love life is existent or not”, Sungjin peeked around the edge of the doorway seeing two figures sitting at the kitchen island having breakfast, and the person talking was animatedly waving his hands around.

“We desperately need to know because our friend Jae is about to be strangled since he won’t stop writing stupid sappy love songs about you” Younghyung do you even know how crazy we seem right now. We are quite possibly the worst wingmen in the history of wingmen” He now recognized the voice as Kim Wonpil’s voice, and at the same time Sungjin felt his heart claw up his throat as he slightly stumbled back in surprise.

Jae Park. One of the other members of the frat. And the boy you had been crushing on for two years. Also one of his closest friends not including you and Dowoon. Sungjin suddenly wished he had just stayed in bed today. Jae was one of the most popular guys on campus. Not because he slept around or anything, but because he was actually a friendly person. He got along with everyone, and he was basically friends with everyone.

Jae had helped Sungjin out of some tough spots before, even invited him out to hang out when you and Dowoon were busy doing who knows what. Jae’s closest friends were Kim Wonpil and Kang Younghyun. Sungjin had talked to those two before, but not enough to go up to them and randomly start up conversations with them.

He still remembered the day you had excitedly come up to him squealing about how the Jae Park was in your sociology class. Eyes shining and giggles erupting out of your mouth every five seconds. He really couldn’t stand you that day. Sungjin felt something stir in his chest, but he couldn't really tell what it was. He shook it off stiffly walking into the kitchen with his heart pounding in his ears.

Sungjin had felt awkward almost all his life, but he was sure nothing could top the sudden tension he felt in his body when the boy’s conversation came to a sudden halt at his appearance. He kept his back to them rolling his shoulders and trying to distract himself from the eyes boring into his back. He grabbed the cereal box turning around to get a bowl catching the two boys wildy gesturing at each other with wide eyes before immediately stopping once they noticed he could see them.

He kept his gaze directly directed at his cereal hoping whoever was listening they wouldn’t talk to him.

“Hey, Sungjin?’

He always thought there’d be a day where he’d drown in his cereal. Maybe today was that day. He paused a bit before grunting in reply looking up to see it had been Younghyun who had spoken and Wonpil who was darting his gaze everywhere but Sungjin’s eyes.

“You know Y/n L/n?” Younghyun again spoke leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.

Sungjin knew he was playing dumb. Everybody knew you and Sungjin were practically glued at the hip. Wherever one of you was, the other could probably be found close by.

He put down the cereal with a sigh, tilting his head at them as he braced himself against the kitchen island with both arms.

“I would hope so. I’ve known her since I was seven years old, and I see her almost everyday” He smiled at them mirthfully feeling an inkling of possessiveness sprout in the confines of his chest. Once again, Sungjin shook it off as protectiveness he felt for you as a little sister.

Younghyun opened and closed his mouth as if not knowing how to respond to Sungjin’s answer. He finally cleared his throat seemingly still finding his voice until Wonpil’s panicked and rushed voice cut him off.

“Are you and Y/n seeing each other?” Wompil immediately clasped his hand to his mouth shaking his head wildy and mumbling warbled apologies while Younghyun slapped the loud mouth upside the head.

Sungjin took a shaky breath in suddenly feeling dizzy as he swayed lightly. His voice was disbelieving when he was able to sputter out his reply.

“W-what makes you think Y/n and I are anything more than friends” his eyes flitted between Wonpil and Younghyun left at a loss for words.

Sure, he and you were inseparable, always going everywhere and anywhere together, but not once had you ever shown signs of being more than friends. Never looking longingly or lovingly at each other, never kissing, never holding hands for more than a minute (in his defense he didn’t want to lose you in the crowd), never proclaiming your love for one another. You guys had never done anything that would suggest anything more than a friendly relationship.

The two boys in front of you looked at each other then at the speechless figure of Sungjin harshly whispering before Wonpil finally made eye contact with Sungjin nervously tapping his finger on the kitchen islan. Pursing his lips he seemed to be choosing his words carefully.

“It’s just that, Jinyoung said he saw Y/n wearing your hoodie. The one you have right now, and you know um people wear each other’s clothes when they’re together, so we just assumed there was something between you guys. We’re sorry Sungjin, we really didn’t mean to jump to conclusions bud”

Sungjin’s eyes drifted down to the hoodie in his hands. The very one he always let you borrow simply because you got cold, and he bought it to class for that exact reason. He was just trying to take care of you, and somehow that had gotten mistaken as anything but friendly intentions. He knew you really liked Jae, but at the same time Sungjin was scared.

He was scared you would leave him behind once you began dating Jae. You almost did when your dumb high school boyfriend told you he didn’t like you being so close to a boy, and he threatened to break up with you if you didn’t distance yourself from Sungjin, your bestfriend. He was terrified of it happening for real this time.

You would have no time for him because you were too busy with Jae, and he would be forgotten by the one person he could always count on. He would lose the smile and laughter of the one person who had always been there for him, but who was he to cling on to you when you could be happier without him. Sungjin felt like he was going to throw up. He was so sure you would leave him behind to rot, you wouldn’t need him anymore.

You wouldn’t need someone to bring a hoodie for you in case you forgot. You wouldn’t need someone to help you fix your bike after you crashed it from getting distracted while riding it. You wouldn’t need someone to patch you up and take away the pain after said bike crash. You wouldn’t need anyone to wipe away your tears when the demons in your head got particularly demanding. You wouldn’t need sungjin anymore because you would have Jae. Sungjin felt like he was getting strangled. He couldn’t breathe past the lump of dread that had formed in his drying throat.

He could not bear to lose the one person that had been by his side through the brightest and cloudiest days. He could not possibly lose the one person that had been by his side through all the ups and downs of life. He could not lose you. Not his peaches with your soft exterior but strong interior.

He felt his body go numb with the immense sadness that tore through his chest, and he began feeling his eyes tear up.

Would he be selfish at the expense of your happiness?

He felt his chest heave as he let out a heavy exhale closing his eyes at the ache beginning to probe at his temples. He shook his head once looking back at the pair who were staring at him with hunched shoulders, both regretting the fact they had even bought it up to him seeing his inner turmoil.

“Does Jae think so too?” his voice was as monotone as he’d ever heard it. Wonpil simply nodded chewing at his lips nervously.

Sungjin shoved the cereal box back into the cupboard not bothering to look at the boys mumbling a low “I need to get to class” as he walked away shaking hands clutching the hoodie to his chest not seeing the worried look the boys gave each other.

-Back to present-

Sungjin groaned feeling like he was about to pass out with all the mixed emotions coursing through his body right now. He decided for now, he would not tell you of Jae’s returned feelings towards you ignoring the guilt clenching around his heart by deciding it was not his place to say what Jae felt.

He quickly slipped his body out the hoodie throwing it at you and grumbling that you better return it to by the end of class. You laughed happily snuggling into the warmth of the hoodie but looking skeptically at Sungjin who had decided to distract himself by scrolling through his phone. You knew when your best friend was hiding something, and right now your best friend was certainly not telling you something.

You felt a bit hurt that even after all these years of building each other up, he couldn’t confide in you when there was something that was bothering him, but you shrugged it off figuring he would tell you when he was ready and you didn’t want to push him. You wondered why he was asking for it by the end of class since he always let you keep it until the end of the day. You once again shook it off figuring he probably got cold too.

You did not give it back by the end of class. You ran out of class. With the hoodie.

By the time Sungjin noticed you were gone with the hoodie still on your body, you were out the human resources building on your way to the student common area where the cafeteria was. Sungjin cursed your black hole of a stomach while Dowoon cackled claiming he deserved it for letting you sell his game controller.

You excitedly ran into the cafeteria stomach growling because let’s be real, cereal was not enough to sustain a growing girl such as yourself. You were instantly met with the smell of different kinds of foods from the variety of restaurants your university cafeteria had. Your eyes hungrily scanned the restaurants lining the room before deciding you could really go for a Subway right now. You were walking out of the little restaurant with the sandwich in your hands when you heard a voice call your name.

You let out a small confused “Huh” in response to the calling of your name spinning around searching the faces of the students peacefully eating and laughing together not being able to find the caller of your name.

Your vision went black as hands suddenly covered your eyes and a chest pressed up against your back. You jumped scared by the sudden greeting gasping in surprise.

“Hey!”, you yelped out.

Your own hands went up to the culprit’s wrists gently moving them down. You tilted your head back being met with a bright smile and a soft laugh that rang in your ears and made your chest fill with warmth. You instantly spun around face to face with your crush of two years.

He was your crush, but he had also become a close friend since the day you had coincidentally sat next to him on the first day of your sociology class not paying attention to who you were sitting next to and just walking to one of the front rows, sure you wouldn’t know anyone in the class.

He whispered your name asking to borrow a pencil and you spent around one minute staring at him like an idiot before fumbling inside your bag for a pencil and giving it to him clumsily. He had chuckled lowly muttering a “cute” under his breath which you were sure you weren’t meant to hear but you had become very attentive to him now knowing he was the one you were sitting next to and stunned by the fact he even knew your name.

You tried ignoring he was sitting next to you, but he moved around so much you wondered if he had to go to the restroom. He eventually noticed your staring simply telling you he had become restless since he had gotten sudden motivation for a song. You were impressed and intrigued by the prospect of him being a songwriter wondering what kind of words he brought to life with different melodies and harmonies.

You sneakily smiled at him, eyes flickering to the professor not far from where you were sitting before sliding your books in front of the notes he had put no effort into and giving him a sly wink giggling.

“I’ll cover for you”, you whispered.

He gave you a look that made a warm tingle run all over your body, eyes softening at you and cheekily winking back.

“I won’t forget your noble sacrifice” he immediately flipped to a new page of his notebook borrowed pencil quickly scribbling across the page.

You had to stop yourself from squealing as you subtly sank in your chair, the corner of your lips twitching as you tried to stop yourself from smiling at seemingly nothing. Sticking your nose into your own notebook and actually writing notes in order to distract yourself from looking at Jae who was now in his own world. Not failing the class was a bonus.

You were so into forcing yourself to pay attention to the monotone professor you didn’t notice Jae’s gaze coming back to your figure every so often taking note of all your features that made his heart beat faster and his head spin.

Ever since that day, you two became close, occasionally getting together outside of class when one of you finally mustered up the courage to plan said get together. It was usually to see a movie where you guys occasionally brushed each other’s hands while trying to get one of the snacks you had bought.

After the movie, it was tradition to go to the noodle place next to the bookstore at the end of the street where you laughed and joked around together. You had never told anyone of these times holding the memories as too precious and personal to share, scared that if you spoke of them they would disappear.  You had even refused to hang out with Sungjin telling him you had to study which you felt a little guilty about, but spending a little less time with him wouldn’t hurt right?

Your eyes widened as you pouted at him. “Jae, you can’t just do that to a person, I almost dropped my lunch and I would have made you pay for another one you ingrate” You were once again met with the same laugh as before, except louder this time. The one that instantly made you smile back at him, heart skipping beats periodically. The laugh that made the colors around you suddenly dance with a vibrancy that beautifully spun and twirled making you so wonderfully dizzy.

“I’m a college student Y/n I can barely afford my own food. Do you want me to starve?”  His eyes crinkled behind the glasses sitting on his narrow nose making your world spin just a bit faster on the axis of what could only be his smile. “Evil, pure evil.” he shook his head scrunching up his nose as if disappointed in you.

You put your hands on your hips  looking offended and tutting. “You’re the one that wants to make me starve. I haven’t eaten in one hour. That’s too long Jae!” he chuckled playfully, narrowing his eyes at you.

“Stop being dramatic and come eat with me loser. I mean uh, if you want to of course. Do you?” he gave you a nervous smile lightly tugging at a strand of your chair before shifting his feet and tugging at his jacket.

You tilted your head as if seriously thinking, looking at his smile slowly falling making your own heart sink being the cause of making something so lovely die. You teasingly reached up to push his glasses back up his nose, finger accidentally gracing the corner of his mouth. Softly laughing you walked by him and gently bumped his shoulder with yours.

“Maybe another day,” you snickered.    He instantly played into your joke once again laughing. He did a lot of that. Laugh. Never ashamed to show how happy he was. You on the other hand, had to hide how happy his own happiness made you.

“Walk away from me young lady and I will never let you eat my Starbursts again nerd” he threatened with a small smile playing on his lips. You couldn’t the light laugh that bubbled up from your chest turning around and putting your hands up in mock surrender. Jae’s chest filled with warm tingles like it did every time he made you laugh.

“You monster. You can’t just deprive me of Starbursts. They get me through the horror movies you always pick! I’ll sit with you, for the Starbursts.” Your determined tone and furrowed eyebrows made Jae breathlessly laugh as he walked closer to you hand reaching out towards your frozen figure.

Your heart palpitated as you tried to calm your breathing, but one of his hands took a hold of your hand running up your arm until it located itself on your shoulder, tugging you into his body and making him able to throw an arm around your shoulder.

Your skin burned wherever his warm touch lingered, and your face felt hot. You once again had to take a deep breath to calm yourself from the wondrous euphoria you felt just by being by Jae. He began walking bringing your flustered self along with him. You were so caught up in trying to make sure you didn’t trip, you didn’t notice Jae’s own cheeks tinting with pink or his shaking hand hanging off your shoulder.

He led you over to a table near the windows where two figures were hunched over and inhaling their food, talking to each other every few seconds. You recognized them as Jae’s two closest friends, Wonpil and Younghyun. You had never met them which caused you to dig your heels into the ground effectively stopping both you and Jae.

“Don’t worry they’re nice. As long as i'm here, they won’t do anything. I won’t let them” he had ducked down too whisper into your ear  warm breath hitting the shell of your ear. You hesitantly nodded continuing to walk while Jae tightened his arm around your shoulders and brought you closer into his left side making the whole right side of your body burn at the wake of his touch.

Different from his earlier tone he cheerfully called out for the two who didn;t look up from their food.

“Jae you’re usually the first one at the table what took you so long. Wait don’t tell me, busy staring at-'' Younghyun had begun speaking taunting Jae and still not looking up until he was cut off by a shove from Wonpil who had raised his gaze to greet Jae only to be surprised with you basically tucked into his friend’s body. You curiously looked up at Jae wondering what so often caught his attention so much his friends teased him who only shrugged mouthing a “he’s crazy” and looking in Younghyun’s direction.

Jae cleared his voice but you poked him purposefully looking at him and muttering, “I can speak for myself” You turned to the pair who were both kindly smiling at you waving awkwardly at them. “Uh hi, my name is Y/n”

Wonpil smiled sweetly at you putting his chin on his hand and glancing at Jae. “We know”. You stared at him, mouth falling open and uttering a confused “Huh?” You were so focused on staring questionly at Wonpil to notice Jae mouthing threatening words at his friends. Younghyun cut him with a stiff laugh “Sungjin talks about you a lot”.

You instantly bought it smiling at the thought of your friend. You had forgotten these boys were a part of the frat he had recently joined. Wonpil seemed to fall out of whatever stupor he had fallen in stupidly smiling in Jae’s direction jumping up to offer you a handshake and introducing himself which you instantly took hoping your palms weren’t sweaty from nervousness. Younghyun followed in Wonpil’s lead, just a little more relaxed and laid back than the jumpy and energetic Wonpil.

Jae’s hands ushered you to sit down while he sat opposite the seat he had pushed you into next to his friends, making Wonpil’s small form get squished between Jae and Younghyun. You smiled softly at the sight getting reminded by your own little trio of you, Sungjin, and Dowoon. You started unwrapping your sandwich as you answered basic questions from Jae’s friends like what your major was and what flavor of ice cream you preferred.

You found yourself being able to fall into a steady rhythm of laughing and talking with the three boys in front of you getting comfortable enough to relax and talk with ease growing confident with the little group. You were answering Wonpil’s question about the tattoo just behind your right ear when you saw his gaze fall to your clothes, his mouth fell open a little as he struggled to focus on your answer too focused on the hoodie enveloping your form.

His shoulders slightly slumped as he nudged Younghyun muttering to him that you had the hoodie on. You were completely enraptured in the conversation Jae had pulled you into, so Younghyun had to clear his throat to catch your attention. His mouth was tugged into a calm smile, but his gaze was sharp making your stomach quiver with a sudden bundle of nerves.

“The hoodie is nice” he gestured cooly to the hoodie keeping you warm “Where did you get it from” the question seemed to carry double meaning. You saw Jae eyes widen, filling with an emotion you couldn’t quite place, body stiffening in his seat. You suddenly remembered what the one rule Sungjin had given you when throwing the clothing at you, and you had run right out of class breaking the one damn rule he had given you.

You groaned burying your head in your arms while tugging at the fabric that was Sungjin’s hoodie as if it would magically disappear from your body into Sungjin’s hands. You chewed at your lip looking at the boys in front of you, bitten lips now formed into a pout.

“I’m not even supposed to have this. I should have given it to him by the end of class, but it was so cold and Sungjin always gives me his hoodie when I forget mine.” You ran your hands through your hair already practicing what you’d say to him, but you knew the outcome was all the same. He was probably going to give you the scolding of your life. You really didn’t understand why he cared if other people thought you were dating. He had never cared about it before.

People had even confused you as a couple before, and he had always shrugged it off forgetting about it as soon as it happened. “Ugh, he’s going to kill me. If you don’t see me tomorrow Sungjin did it” i said sadly.

Jae wasn’t saying anything finding more interest in the table than the conversation you were currently having with his friends. You wondered what was up with him since he was always more than eager to join in on the conversation, but you coined it off as him being lost in thought.

The sharp look in Younghyun’s eyes remained and he didn’t laugh like most people would at the relationship between you and the other male. Wonpil simply sank in his seat leaning a little closer to Jae. You were beginning to feel anxious left foot tapping across the floor getting ready to bolt any second. Your mouth felt dry and it hurt to swallow the bite of sandwich you had just put in your mouth.

Younghyun finally looked away from you staring out the window next to the table and fiddling with the spoon on his table. “You and Sungjin seem close” his jaw was tight and tone uninterested but you felt like your answer held the weight of the world in it. You chose to stay calm ignoring the voices in your head telling you to run away as fast as you could. The food in your stomach felt heavy and you fought the urge to throw up.

You smiled softly at them. “Of course we are, he’s one of the most important people in my life'' You saw Jae close his eyes as if he had just been punched in the gut, and you saw Younghyun’s hand clenched into a fist knuckles turning white but you kept going, keeping your voice light and soft. “He’s been my best friend since I can remember” you added on taking the hoodie off and instantly wincing and getting attacked by the cold air circulating the cafeteria.

You shivered really hating yourself for forgetting your jacket. Everybody seemed to ease up, so you figured your answer had been the right one. What exactly deemed it as right you still weren’t sure. Younghyun leaned back in his seat, his sharp gaze gone, and the humorous glint in his eyes back. Wonpil put his elbows on the table leaning closer to you and once again asking you another question while Jae seemed to spring back to life also joining in on the conversation with the bright smile back on his face and his eyes getting their shine back.

You couldn’t help but feel a light tingle prick at the back of your neck at seeing Jae happy and himself again. Your lips tugged into a small satisfied smile, and while talking with them you would continuously look at Jae who you caught staring every time then bashfully look back at Wonpil not being able to bear the thought of Jae looking at you and only you.

Jae never looked away from you. Not even when you caught him in the act simply chuckling when you smiled nervously and looked at his friend. You were both so caught up in each other you didn’t see Wonpil wiggling his eyebrows at Younghyun who rolled his eyes but smiled happily nonetheless.

A little tension left your body because the air around the four of you had immensely calmed down, but the cold was now once again seeping into your skin, chilling you to the bones.You gave the boys an uncomfortable smile as you began to shiver. Wonpil and Younghyun smiled at you sympathetically while Jae got an unsure look on his face, lips pursing and eyebrows furrowing. He looked worriedly at you, a silent question in his eyes.

“You okay?”  You beamed at him assuring him, but your body was still shaking. He set his shoulders back keeping eye contact with you while getting up and pulling his jacket off his body. He shook his head “Tsk tsk Y/n, what would you possibly do without me?” You felt your face grow hot trying your hardest to ignore the sliver of skin exposed by his shirt riding up when he took off the article of clothing.

His hair was ruffled and his glasses were askew and barely held up by the bridge of his nose, but the only thing you could focus on was the arm extended towards you holding the blue jean jacket being offered to you. Your breath was caught in your throat, and you stood there frozen staring at the jean jacket. You couldn’t even feel the chilly air of the cafeteria anymore. Not when the warmth caused by Jae’s offer was enough to sink into the deepest confines of your chest, settling there giving you an odd sense of comfort making your heart hum happily.

Both you and Jae did not see Wonpil and Younghyun looking at each other with goofy grins before leaving both of you heading towards their next classes.

The hand holding the sweater shook once. “We don’t have all day here loser. My noodle arm really can’t hold this jacket forever. I skipped arm day last week” you held your hand out placing it on the jacket, but you still didn’t take the jacket swallowing harshly and clearing your throat. You looked at Jae beneath your eyelashes blinking slowly at him ,heart pounding against your rib cage. At that moment, nobody but you and Jae existed.

“Are you sure?” your unsure question made Jae roll his eyes, his next actions happening so fast you had no time to properly react. He grasped your wrist from the hand placed on his jacket still in his hand drawing your body towards his with so much force your hips briefly bumped against his. He let go of your wrist instead grabbing his jacket with both hands, and you were forced to put your hand on his shoulder to stop yourself from actually crashing into him.

His arms went around you putting his jacket around your head in order to hang the jacket on your shoulders making sure it covered you enough so the cold wouldn’t bother you anymore. You were pretty sure the whole cafeteria could hear how loud and fast your heart was beating. You couldn’t think straight. The only thing you could even process was Jae’s hands still on the lapel of the jacket, barely brushing the part of your stomach above your belly button.

You seemed to get a control of your body as you looked up at him with wide eyes getting met with his face closer than it had ever been, the lightest flush on his cheek bones and lips slightly parted. You could see your hand trembling with pure adrenaline as the hand that wasn’t on his shoulder reached up to fix his tilted glasses and messy hair. The hand on his shoulder was close enough to his chest to feel the slight drum of his heart unusually fast for someone who was basically standing still.

You really weren’t sure why you were surprised. Jae had always gone out of his for you. Always done little things to take care of you in his own little way. Holding your hand when the professor handed back assignments rubbing your knuckles with his thumb reassuringly, playing his guitar when you were in a sad mood at the park you sometimes visited after coming back from the noodle place, gently brushing your hair away from your face when it fell on your face while writing notes, or crushing you in a hug when you didn’t get the grade you wanted hand gently holding you against him.

He always joined in on your childish behavior by pushing you on the swing or going down the slide with you at the park, always bringing you your favorite snacks from the convenience store he walked by on the way to class knowing fully well you sometimes forgot to eat, or even letting you spill your tears to him on days you just didn’t feel good.

He had always stuck by your side. During both good days and bad days even managing to make the bad days good days just by being there with you making it his mission to make you smile. All this made you come to a realization. Sure, maybe what you had for him before was nothing but a silly crush, but now as you got to know him more and become someone he confided in, the feelings you got around him were crystal clear.

You were in love with Jaehyung Park, and now that you knew what you were feeling, you wanted to scream it to the whole world. What you were feeling was something so beautiful and precious that people only dreamed to experience. You weren’t sure if the vile world would ever allow you to feel this ethereal emotion ever again, and as you looked up at the man your heart had so harshly and deeply fallen for, you were terrified. You didn’t want to ruin what you had.

You wanted to stay like this, blissfully unaware of each other's true feelings for one another. Even if your body and heart longed to be close to him, to touch him, feel him, and know every crevice and inch of him, you counted yourself lucky to be able to be close to him like this, where your probably unreturned feelings didn’t make anything awkward or burdensome for anyone.

You felt a little prick at your eye cursing yourself for wanting to cry, but you managed a small smile in Jae’s direction taking a step away from him and suggesting you sit back down since you both still had time before you had to go to class. He sat on the opposite side of the table as you, gaze not straying away from you.

You took a deep breath feeling tingles running along your spine since the air between you both had become tense filled with something you couldn’t identify. You both remained silent sitting there. You became fidgety, stretching your legs in front of you only for your right leg to gently bump against what you assumed to be the pole supporting and holding the table up. You were staring outside watching all the students pass by happily ignorant to the slight change in relationship between the two friends sitting across each other sitting in silence.

You absentmindedly started running your leg up and down the pole under the table when you heard a weird sputtering sound much alike to choking from a foot away from you. You turned away from the window looking at the man across from you only to flinch back in surprise with the sight you were met with.

Jae was staring at you with wide panicked eyes, and his shaking arm held up to his face, but even with the arm you could see the red tinting his chest, neck, face, and ears. His chest was heaving and you could see his whole body trembling. You instantly grew worried all focus going to Jae assuming there was something seriously wrong with him. The table wasn’t that wide which allowed you to lean closer to his body holding your palm to his forehead feeling it was abnormally hot. You anxiously tapped your foot against the pole supporting the table. “Jae are you okay?” you heard him gasp out an answer not being able to understand at all when you felt the pole under the table slightly move against your leg.

Wait, poles can’t move.

[haloshornsinkstains]

And What If I Bite Back? [Motonari]

“There aint no reason to get so nervous when I’m around. I don’t bite, I swear it.” He paused, considering her for a moment. “Unless… ya’d like to get bitten. Whatdya say? I’ll make ya feel real good.” She relaxes her arm, hand falling to her side as she studies him intently, head tilted slightly and a smirk pulling at the corners of her lips. "And what if I bite you back?"

--

Inspired by literally two lines in Motonari's East vs West special story. Mostly just self indulgent smut

It had just been a normal trip into town, she’d needed some supplies and wanted to get some new fabrics for her seamstress work. It had turned into anything but, Hideyoshi insisted on accompanying her to ‘keep her safe’ and now she’d finally managed to get away from his sometimes overbearing kindness she was met with an unexpected face. “Well well, didn’t expect to see you here m’lady.” She startled, fingers twitching towards the tanto she keeps hidden in her robes these days. Too many close calls with people who thought more of her relationship with Nobunaga than there ever would be, or men who saw her as weak, easy prey. Masamune had taught her well enough to defend herself in a pinch, but she hadn't expected to use it so soon. "You know my babysitter is just in there…" He stumbles over the word babysitter but fixes her with a grin, the type of smile she imagines a shark shows its prey when it's far too late. “There aint no reason to get so nervous when I’m around. I don’t bite, I swear it.” He paused, considering her for a moment. “Unless… ya’d like to get bitten. Whatdya say? I’ll make ya feel real good.” She relaxes her arm, hand falling to her side as she studies him intently, head tilted slightly and a smirk pulling at the corners of her lips. "And what if I bite you back?" Her voice is close to a purr, a ripple of something dangerous and promising under it. It pulls a bark of true laughter from him, warm if not a little wicked itself. "Oh you're feisty. You're welcome to try mlady, if I'm feelin' generous I might even let you." She smiles, tapping a finger against her lips thoughtfully and he takes the time to study her for a moment. He's heard plenty of stories about the Azuchi Chatelaine, an Oda Princess if the stories are correct  although not in the same way most princesses get their titles. There are stories a plenty, and rumours both good and bad seem to spring up wherever she goes. Some say she’s a reincarnated goddess, others a yokai of one description or another, once or twice he’s heard the word enchantress. Many are convinced she can't just be a woman. There's a tale that she once struck Oda Nobunaga and yet she still lives. He can believe it now, watching her grin at him, far less afraid and far more curious than she should be. She opens her mouth to say something, a promise of something in her eyes as she does but she falters when her name is called from the main street. Huffing a sigh she turns, looking back at him with a grin that's far too dirty to look so sweet. "I'll see you next week." It's a promise, not a question, and for a brief stupid moment he truly considers just kidnapping her now. But that voice was Toyotomi Hideoyshi and he's here on good honest business for once, so he just nods his head at her with a wink. No kidnapping today. Maybe next time.

As she disappears he finally settles on his answer to the mystery that is the Oda Princess. She's the sea, he decides, a whirling contradiction of fierce waters and calm tide pools. Both wild and gentle and not to be tamed by any man. Motonari knows the sea, knows it and loves it, and, he thinks, he would quite like to know this woman too.

He never expected to see her the next week, didn’t hope she’d be there at all thank you very much. He much less expected to see her there without one of her usual contingent of bodyguards. He wanted to make some smart comment about how she couldn’t possibly have known he would be there, about her following him like a lamb to the slaughter, but her smirk was disarming. And after all, of course he was here - he did good honest trade. Some days anyway. But there she stood, lips quirked up in a smile and head tilted ever so slightly as she stared at him. Her hand still hovered near her hidden blade, clever girl, but there wasn’t the same tension in her shoulders he’d spotted last time. “What? Not even a hello?” She shifted slightly, one hand coming to rest on her hip. “Don’t tell me you’re all bark and no bite. Now what will I do with my day off?” He chuckled. “Yer brave, I could be plannin’ to do anything to ya.” “Oh? But you don’t know what I’m planning to do with you either.” She hadn’t shifted her hand, her shoulders a little more tense than before, but the smirk still rested on her lips. “Ah ya gotta learn to take a joke” he huffed, as if he hadn't ever had plans of kidnapping her "my ship is…" "Ah, no." She cut him off, a little sharp despite the smile. "I'm not quite that foolish." "Ya don't trust me?" "Should I?" Well no, no she shouldn't. He chuckled and glanced around him, as if he thought she meant to do that here . Interesting. He smirked, embers burning in his eyes as he looked back at her. She watches him for a few seconds before breaking into bright amused laughter. "Not here! I have a reputation to maintain! I know a place not far from here, very discreet I assure you." "An if I didn't want discreet?" He tried to make it sound like a challenge, but all notions of him being anything other than willing to follow were betrayed by the look in his eyes. "Humour me." She slid past him, only glancing back once as he gathered his things and followed. He was going to get something out of her, he told himself, something more than what she was offering. As much as it seemed like what she was offering was a party all of its own.

She slid the door closer behind her, positioning herself between him and it on what felt like a mockery of their true positions. "You said something about making me feel real good?" For the first time in a long time he wonders if maybe he’s the one in danger here. But she stays where she is, not moving closer nor making any efforts to leave. As if she knows , knows that he doesn’t like to be touched, as if she’s waiting for him to decide despite all his bravado whether he really wants to do this. So she waits, that damned teasing smile on her lips, while he sorts his thoughts. She’s letting him make the first move, and so he does. Stepping forwards to close the gap between them, calloused fingers twitching at his side and he’s close enough to feel her warm breath on his skin. Then she moves, slowly bringing one hand up to stroke at the skin of his cheek, his jaw, touch featherlight as if he’s some wild animal ready to startle and flee. And, he supposes, he is. But her gentle touch is enough to put a torch to the fire racing through his veins, all at once too much and not enough, and he finds his body moving of its own accord, a hand tangling in her hair as he pulls her in for a bruising kiss. She melts against him willingly, foolish woman, clever fingers already trying to work his haori from his shoulders. “Eager are we?” He chuckles against her lips, body tensing as her fingers brush against his neck. “You made some very intriguing promises.” She hums back. She’s still being gentle with him, he realises a little too late, despite the passion of the kiss her movements are slow, tentative. He’s giving him time to stop her, he thinks, as she slowly works fingers into the neck of his kimono to ease it open. Terrible, dangerous, considerate woman. As if she doesn’t seem to want this even more than he does. Something inside him snaps, hands grasping her wrists and pinning her hard against the solid wall. Her eyes go wide and he wonders if this is where she comes to her senses, pushes him away and bolts for her freedom like any sane woman would, if he’d even let her at this point. But that’s not fear in her eyes, not entirely, sadness and a little disappointment take the stage instead. She looks like she thinks he’s stopping her, like she’s disappointed at that. Instead he leans into her, teeth nipping at her ear with his voice a deep growl in his chest. “I aint gonna break y’know.” A moment of surprise, then the sly smirk is back. “Neither am I.” The last remaining threads of whatever was holding them back snap and he surges against her, the hand that isn’t pinning her to the wall finding its way past the hem of her kimono to run down her side. When had her obi been lost? Did it even matter? His teeth graze against her neck, hand gripping her hip almost hard enough to bruise as she whines and bucks into him. “Ah, good girl. Sing for me.” She keens, pliant and willing as his hand dips lower, finding the space between her legs already hot and slick. For him, he thinks, running a finger between her folds and drinking in her gasps and mewls as he does. Motonari has never been a gentle lover, doesn’t think he could even try to be at this point, but the way she writhes under the lightest touch has him almost feral. He drives two fingers into her, surprised at how she can offer so little resistance but feel so tight at the same time. “Ah Princess. ” "Fuuuuck." She writhes against him, curses falling from her lips as his thumb brushes the little bundle of nerves at the apex of her entrance. "Oh fu- ah - more." Like this, pinned against the wall of an inn, flushed and wanton and practically begging for him, he could believe she's a demon. A siren come to steal him away with her sweet cries. He thrusts a third finger into her heat, biting down hard on her shoulder as she clenches around him. "Motonari… oh … please. " He knows what she wants, he'd be a fool not to, but he's too lost in the way her legs are trembling and her muscles clench around his fingers as he ducks his head to pepper red bitemarks across her chest. He's a little rough but she doesn't seem to mind if the way she shivers and unravels against his hand as his teeth find a rosy nipple, his name a strangled prayer on her lips.

He keeps her hands pinned as she pants and sags a little against him, more to keep her upright than anything. There's something wild in his eyes when she looks at him curiously, maybe a little disappointed, her skin still flushed and breath coming in ragged pants. "Didn't think the party was ending there didya?" She doesn't get a chance to reply, world spinning as she finds herself landing on hands and knees on the futon, kimono a disheveled mess around her waist. She hears the rustle of clothing, casting a glance over her shoulder and licking her lips as she sees Motonari stood there shirt open and cock in hand. And oh he's so beautiful, like a bronze sculpture. She wants to run her mouth over every exposed piece of skin, taste the salt of his skin and lap up the pre come beading at the tip of that beautiful cock. But the wild look in his eyes tells her he's after something else, the slight tilt of his head asking the question without words. "Please." She breathes, tongue running over her lips once more. "Captain." He pounces. He isn't gentle but she never expected that from him. Doesn't think she'd want him to be, not when the punishing pace he says has her melting so hopelessly into the futon, arms collapsing under her. "Ah… aaahhh…. So tight." He grunts, fingers digging into her hips as he pounds into her relentlessly. "Oh, Moto- fuck -Motonari. So good. So…" she's babbling senselessly, she knows,  the words garbled and half formed. But she's too thoroughly fucked to care, that tell-tale coil building in her stomach. She tries to warn him when the tension snaps, but the words die in her throat in a noise less scream, muscles clamping down around him for the second time that day. He follows close behind, barely managing to pull out of her before he's shooting hot ropes of his seed across her back.  Not worth the hassle of one of her lords coming after him if he didn't and something happened after all.

With a pleased tired moan she collapses into the futon, letting him shift to lie beside her. She's good enough not to try and cuddle up to him, not like most women, though she does turn her head to watch him through a heavily lidded gaze. She looks gorgeous like this, hair missed and face flushed. She looks throughly fucked, his marks standing out red against her pale skin, and gods help him it suits her. "Told ya I'd make ya feel real good." He pants, cocky smirk firmly back in place. She laughs, swatting his arm lightly as she nods, still breathing too heavily to speak. "I'll be back in town in a few weeks, might have some fabrics that'll interest ya." Her eyes widen just a fraction, but enough for him to read her before her lips quirk up again and she nods.

[after-l1fe]

Mayhaps could I ask mori nsfw alphabet? Please?

Mori x GN!MC Nsfw alphabet

Soo idk much about Mori but I tried doing some research about him in hopes to better understand him. The whole point of his character is to be mysterious and damn did it work well XD. I wanna say idk his past story and in one part I talk about his eyes, I hope that doesnt break cannon too much or at all.

 A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He is normally very tired after sex but he will attend all your needs, do you want a bath and clean sheets? you’re getting that, sometimes it seems like he already knows what you want even before telling him.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves your thighs, he loves to hold them when he is between your legs and to leave them full of marks.

From his body he prefers his eyes, even if he has them closed most of the time and doesn’t show them off that much he loves them, and he showing you his eyes when the two of you are alone is something he considers very intimate.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

His cum is thick and sticky and he loves covering you with it its his way of being a little possessive, his favorite place to do so is your chest.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He has only jacked off once and that was after you wore particularly exposing clothes to a party and drank a little bit too much and began getting touchy with him.

He couldn’t help but go to the bathroom to ‘ease some tension’, you two were already in a relationship but the idea of doing love to you while drunk didn’t feel well to him.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

This isn’t something he’s proud of and no one knows about it but he has no experience at all yet he definitely did his best to please you that first time you two did it, only to find out he wasn’t that good at it, cue A LOT of research and the discovery of several kinks he didn’t even knew existed.

That second time was the best one you ever had, only for him to surpass his limits every time afterward.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He has done lots of positions but his favorite ones are the ones where you are tied up, if he had to choose one though it would be the leapfrog position with you hands tied up, he loves how vulnerable you look and how you seem so helpless (of course all with your consent, he would hate to harm you or do something you don’t like).

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

0 goofiness, he doesn’t feel like sex is the right time to make some jokes and he’s very serious about it, also why would he joke when instead he can say dirty things that make you squirm.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

The carpet does match the drapes although they are a little bit darker in color.

He trims the hair every now and then and makes sure that it looks well, he just doesn’t like shaving he feels its too much of a hassle.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He struggles a bit with telling you how he feels so he prefers to just kiss you all over and sometimes after he’s more in the mood drop an ‘I love you’ but otherwise he wont seem very romantic.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He doesn’t do it. He has better stuff to do, like deals and negotiations, and if he really needs to have some fun he will just come to you and have fun with you 😉.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He’s a voyeur as he’s not afraid of doing stuff in public yet he would hate the idea of you two getting discovered by anyone that’s why he’s planned every little detail, but you obviously don’t know that which makes him enjoy himself even more by seeing how you get a little shy by the idea of getting found.

He’s also a rigger, he loves seeing you tied up in beautiful ways and then he loves to add a little fun by placing some toys in you and watching you beg for him as he just watches your needy state.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He isn’t afraid of doing stuff in public and he is quite proud about having done it in certain places, some of those being the roof of the school, the auditorium and one time he was under your desk as you spoke to someone letting his tongue and hands wander your private parts.

Yet sometimes he just wants to have a sweeter session with you which will take place in your or his room. (Sometimes it doesn’t have to be in the bed tho, he likes the shower as much as the bed)

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

He loves to fantasize about the stuff he could do about you, and sometimes he cant help but let his mind wander a bit too much and he NEEDS to try this new idea/fantasy he’s planned in his head.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Harm you, he may like tying you up in ropes and put you in cuffs but he always makes sure they’re smooth/soft and won’t cause you harm, you mean the world to him and he wouldn’t want to do anything that harms you.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He prefers receiving, he can just lay back and see as you do all the work and try to get him to cum although, if you do a really good job of pleasing him we will be sure of returning the favor twice as good as you did.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

For quickies he prefers fast and rough, to get you both to orgasm rapidly but, if its just a normal session he prefers taking more time and go slowly and tell you how much he loves you while leaving a little kiss on your lips.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He loves them. Its fast, not too energy wasting and you both get a lot of pleasure!!

The school closets are one of his favorite places to do them.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He loves taking risk and experimenting new stuff.

He wouldn’t be against the idea of having some fun in an unused classroom or the storage.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Not that much stamina so he prefers to just give it his all in one long round and then just kissing, cuddling and showing how much he loves you.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

LOTS of toys, he thinks they make things spicier and he isn’t wrong about that, specially as he knows how to use them even in ways you hadn’t imagined.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

SUPER unfair, he won’t stop whispering dirty things into your ear and sometimes it won’t even be in private.

He once was walking by your side and just whispered pure filth into your ear to afterwards just leave and leave you there feeling horny. You can’t get a break with this guy.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He doesn’t make a sound no matter what he’s doing with you (aside from his dirty talk) BUT, if you whisper his name right into his ear you’ll hear him grunt and hell start moving rougher and faster. If confronted about it he will say he didn’t even hear you say anything.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

As he has said before he never breaks a deal, and that also applies to his love for you, he would never even think about cheating on you, and he will always try his best to make you happy, after all he made a deal with you, a deal to never leave you alone and be there for you no matter what.

After sex he will ask you more than once if you are fine, sometimes he thinks he has gone a little too far with stuff (even if you two just had normal sex) he loves you a lot and wants no harm to come to you.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He’s average in length but where he excels at is in thickness, this is something he loves, he loves the feel of how you stretch for him and cry out in pleasure.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Not that high yearning, or at least that’s what he says/shows, he might not look like it but sometimes when he looks like he’s scheming something it may not be some dirty plan or at least  not the dirty plan he does to get some deals with people. 😉

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He doesn’t like wasting too much energy and he IS quite tired afterwards but, he will wait until all your needs have been attended to and you are feeling comfortable, if you’re not comfortable no matter how tired he is he wont be able to sleep.

Thanks for my first request 😊💕literally number one anon

[marvelouscaptainrogers]

Caught and Captured

Requested?: No. 

Summary: After Steve struggles with a confession he had been holding on to for a while, Y/N walks in on a rather heated moment between Steve and Bucky, who are ecstatic to bring her along for the fun.

Warnings: NSFW!! Smut! 18+. Threesome. Anal. Oral (Male and Female receiving) Unprotected sex. 

Characters: Stucky x Reader

Bucky went to Steve’s office as soon as he got his message. It seemed urgent and important even just through text. 

 Steve: Hey Buck. I really need to talk to you. If you have time then come to my office. If not, it can wait. It’s not a work matter. It’s a personal matter.

 Bucky eyed the text message for a few moments before tucking his phone away in his pocket and making his way down a couple floors to where he needs to be. 

He hasn’t seen Steve in a week, despite literally living in the room next door to him. It’s as if the blonde had been ignoring him. Steve was always up hours before Bucky even got out of bed, and came back long after he had gone to his room for the night. It was strange for his best friend to be acting that way, and he was planning on finding him and questioning him about it until he received the concerning text. 

 Once he got to the office, he pushed the door open, seeing Steve sat behind his desk with his head resting in his hands before he walked in. The blonde raises his gaze up to see Bucky, who can immediately feel the tension stirring in the room. The air feels thick and heavy, and neither of them had even said a word yet. 

 “Steve, what’s going on? You okay?” Bucky Asks. Steve let’s out a nervous breath. 

 “Just... I need to talk to you... Sit.” Steve Says. Bucky follows the order and sits in the chair across the desk, looking at his friend worriedly. Normally he would’ve quipped back with some kind of smartass remark, saying ‘don’t tell me what to do’, but he was far too concerned and truthfully a bit scarred for what he was about to hear. He’s never seen Steve so visibly shaken before. His shoulders are rigid, and he can tell that his leg is bouncing nervously under the table. 

 “Steve, you’re freaking me out, pal. What’s going on?” He Asks. Silence fills the air once more as the blonde clearly tries to mull over the words in his head. 

 “I’m in love with Y/N.” Steve says. Bucky looks at him with furrowed brows, wondering if he just heard him right or if he had just had some kind of two-second hallucination.

 “Y/N? You mean Y/N that I’ve been in love with since she got here a year ago? That Y/N?” Bucky Asks. Steve sighs deeply, running his hands over his face and through his hair. 

 “Yes Buck. Y/N. I’m in love with her.” Steve Says. Bucky lets out a tense sigh, almost sounding like a hiss coming from his throat as he pinches the bridge of his nose. 

 He’s not necessarily mad that Steve’s in love with you... He’s mad that they’re both in love with you and he doesn’t know what the hell to do about it. He wants his best friend to be happy, but he also wants you. Clearly that’s what Steve probably wants as well, or else he wouldn’t be telling him this.

 “B-But that’s not everything, Buck...” Steve says, lowering his head and looking at his hands in his lap, twiddling his thumbs nervously. 

 “Well what is it? Come on man. We’re already in the middle of this conversation. You might as well spill it.” Bucky says, crossing his arms and shifting around in his chair. 

 “It’s not that easy, Buck... This... If I tell you this it could ruin our friendship. It could ruin my shot with Y/N. It could destroy... Everything that means the most to me.” Steve says, his eyes still not meeting Bucky, who is more confused than ever at what his friend just said. 

 “Steve, we’ve been friends since we were five. What the hell could possibly be so bad that it could ruin that and your chance with Y/N?” Bucky Asks. Steve goes silent, releasing a deep breath as he runs his hand over his face. 

 “I want you, Buck. I want you, me, and Y/N. I’ve wanted you for as long as I can remember. When I met Y/N, I didn’t know how the hell I could have both... I still don’t think I can... But that’s what I want. I want Y/N. And I want you.” Steve Says, his eyes not daring to meet Bucky’s even for a second. Meanwhile, Bucky’s face turns from a grimace, to the biggest smirk as he admires the red that has creeped up Steve’s neck, all the way to his ears. 

 “So, to clarify, you want me, you, and Y/N to be together?” Bucky Asks. Steve can already hear the smirk in his voice as he talks, and it only embarrasses him more. Steve gets up from his seat behind the desk and starts pacing. 

 “God Buck I knew you’d do this. I knew you’d laugh. I can’t help what I want, alright? It’s not my fault. I didn’t ask for this! You think I would’ve asked for-“

 “Hey. Hey... Slow down. Stevie, relax for a second. I’m not laughing at you, okay? I promise.” Bucky Says, walking around the desk to stand in front of Steve, who is still just as red as a tomato, but as least he had stopped pacing. 

 “It definitely sounded like you were laughing, Buck.” Steve Says, his eyes finally meeting those of his best friend. 

 “You also weren’t looking at me. If you had been, you’d know that I wasn’t... Now, I’ll have you know, this arrangement sounds like a fucking dream to me. I’ve been crazy about Y/N for a year... And I’ve been crazy about you for decades now.” Bucky Says. Steve feels dizzy at the revelation that he’s just been given, and all he can think about is how he wishes you were here, too.

 “So we know how we feel about each other... And we know how we feel about Y/N... How do we get Y/N to be okay with dating both of us?” Steve asks shyly, looking to the floor as he hears Bucky chuckle. 

 “Leave that to me, Stevie. For now, I recall you saying that you wanted me... Do you?” Bucky Asks, his metal hand slowly lifting Steve’s shirt and sliding underneath it. 

 “Or do you need me?” 

 The blonde finds himself choking on his words, stunned at how good the cold metal feels against his scorching hot skin. 

 “Need. I-I need you, Buck.” Steve Says, clenching his jaw as Bucky’s hand changes direction, and instead, starts moving down, until it grips Steve’s covered semi, stroking it through the fabric of his joggers.  

 “B-Buck... Don’t tease.” Steve Says softly. Bucky simply smirks, reaching lower between his legs and cupping his balls, giving them a good bit of friction before moving his hand back up his cock. 

 “You’re already hard for me, Stevie. Fuck.” Bucky Says. He slides his flesh hand under the waist band of Steve’s joggers and boxers, grasping his bare length in his fingers while his metal hand still moves under his t-shirt. He feels Steve’s cock twitch against his palm as he gives soft, gentle strokes. 

 “God Stevie, you’re so fuckin’ thick. I bet you’d feel like heaven inside me.” Bucky Says, rubbing his thumb over his tip, collecting the precum that had collected there as Steve gently pushes his joggers down a bit, just to free him from the confines. 

 “Bucky... Please. I need more.” Steve Says. 

 Bucky was maybe two seconds from sinking to the floor, and taking his cock into his mouth, sucking him until he was a mess of moans and whimpers against the desk, but they’re interrupted when someone comes through the door.

 “Captain I have the papers you asked.. For... Oh my...” You say, stumbling over your words as you see Steve’s joggers pulled down a bit, and Bucky’s hand wrapped around his hard, massive cock. 

 It made a pool of wetness form in your panties, and you wished you could just stay and watch whatever was about to go down before you cut in. 

 “I am.. I’m so sorry. I’m-I’m just g-gonna go I-“

 “No, doll. C’mere. Close the door behind you.” Bucky Says, removing his hand from Steve’s length and pulling his joggers back up, almost resulting in a groan of frustration from the blonde. 

 “B-But um.. I... I didn’t mean to... The door was cracked so I assumed that.. Really I should go. I’m so sorry. I-“

 “Slow down, doll. It’s okay. Sit. We’re glad you’re here actually. We want to talk to you.” Bucky Says, leading you behind the desk to Steve’s chair where he gently guides you to sit down. You can feel both men’s eyes on you, only making you feel more intimidated by their sudden silence, and if you were honest, you were a little worried about how they were so calm about you walking in on that.

 “B-But.. You.. I saw..”

 “We know what you saw. Take a breath, okay? And we’ll explain everything in a second. First, we need you to relax. You’re all flustered, doll. It’s just us. No reason to be nervous.” Bucky Says. Your eyes finally move over to Steve, and you can still see the massive bulge in his joggers. 

 ‘How the hell am I supposed to relax when I almost walked in on you guys fucking!?’ Your subconscious screams. You attempt to shake it off as Steve crouches in the floor beside you, gently taking your hand in his own. 

 “Before you walked in, Bucky and I were talking...”

 “That wasn’t talking, Steve. That was something else entirely.” You say. Both of them laugh a bit as you sit there with rosy red cheeks, refusing to look either of them in the eye. 

 “We were talking... And we discovered that we both want each other... We want to be together... But... We...”

 “We also want to be with you. So we want all of us to be together. All three of us.” Bucky Says. Your mouth goes dry at the thought. 

 “Jesus Bucky. Way to ease her into things.” Steve Says as he cuts his eyes over at the brunette to your right. 

 “Well you were taking too long! As per usual.” Bucky Says. 

 “You know what, punk?”

 “Boys!” You yell, holding your hands out toward both of them, attempting whatever it takes to stop the bickering. 

 “My brain is practically bursting at the seams right now and you two want to bicker? I can’t even think.” You say. 

 “Sorry.” They both mutter, as if on command. A laugh falls from your lips when they turn their attention back to you. 

 It’s still sinking in that you’re in a room with the two most perfect human beings you’ve ever seen in your life... And they both want you?

 “Is this a joke? Is this really happening? Did Nat dare you to do this and you’re like, filming my reaction or something?” You ask, looking around the room for any hidden cameras or cell phones. Bucky’s hand on your cheek pulls your focus back to them. 

 “Doll, no. We’re serious. We want each other, and we want you.” Steve Says, his thumb gently running over your knuckles as they both look at you. 

 “So... We would all be together? Like, boyfriend, boyfriend, girlfriend?” You Ask. Bucky and Steve both lower their heads in laughter.

 “Don’t laugh! This sounds great and all but I need details!” You say, waving your hand around dramatically as you speak. 

 “Yes, sweetheart. Like boyfriend, boyfriend, girlfriend. All of us.” Steve Says. 

 “Would we go on dates?”

 “Of course we would. Anywhere you want, doll.” Bucky answers. 

 “And... The sex... It would be a threesome every time?” You ask, looking at both of them quizzically. 

 “If you agreed to date us then... That would be easiest. That way everyone’s included and we can all be together. But we won’t force you into anything even if you do decide that you want this. We can take this at your pace, doll. We want you to be comfortable.” Bucky adds. 

 “Oh I’m very comfortable with that. I was just making sure we’re all on the same page here... Would we tell everyone?” You Ask. 

 “About the sex or about us dating?” Bucky Asks with a smirk. A laugh falls from your lips as you playfully swat his arm. 

 “About us dating, you dork. I have a feeling that if I ever get stuck between both of you in the bedroom, we won’t have to tell anyone. They’re gonna know when they hear it.” You say, joining both of the men as they start laughing.

 “You’re probably right, doll. But to answer your question, we’re comfortable with telling everyone. But if you’re not okay with that yet then we’ll give you some time.” Steve Says. You sigh deeply before looking up at Bucky, then over to Steve, still completely stunned that this is happening right now. 

 “Well, I’m pretty much sold on this relationship already. But if I agree... Would I get to join that thing I walked in on?” You Ask, your brow quirking mischievously. Both men smirk at you, while their hands start moving towards you. Steve’s are sliding up your thighs from where he’s still crouched down beside you on the floor, and Bucky’s hand is moving your hair off your neck, gently grazing your jawline with his metal knuckles. 

 “We would definitely encourage you to join.” Steve Says, grinning up at you as one of his hands grazes your inner thigh. 

 You stand from the chair, both men removing their touch from you as you slowly step towards the door. 

 “I don’t know... Maybe I should just let you boys get back to what you were doing... Or... We could go upstairs, get comfortable on my silk sheets, and have some real fun.” You say, opening the door. Bucky and Steve both start stalking towards you, making chills run up your spine. 

 “Lead the way, doll.” Bucky Says, placing his hand on the small of your back as you all head for the elevator.

 Once inside the elevator, you turn to Steve, balling your hands in his shirt as you pull him close, standing on your toes to press your lips to his. He quietly groans against your mouth as his hand comes up cup your cheek. Meanwhile, Bucky walks up behind you, pressing his crotch against your ass and his lips to the back of your neck. They’re both pleased with the whimper that you release against Steve’s lips, and it only makes them press against you harder, completely surrounding you with their bodies. Between Steve’s hard on pressed into your lower belly, and Bucky’s against your ass, you can’t help the wetness that collects between your thighs. 

 When the elevator dings, you all pull away from each other as you peek out and down the hall. Upon seeing no one around, you lead both of them to your room.

 Your room in the tower has always been your oasis. Dark gray walls, dramatic black curtains, and red silk bedding already makes the room feel romantic and sexy, and it’s almost stunning how perfect it is for the activities that are about to take place. 

 Bucky’s hands are on you first, gripping and pawing at you all over. After Steve closes and locks the door, he joins you both in the middle of the room. 

 “We can do this however you want, doll. We’ll follow your lead.” Bucky Says. That simple statement makes your brow quirk upward, a devious look all over your features as you gaze from one man to the other. 

 “Uh-oh... I don’t know if I like that look, sweetheart.” Steve Says with a laugh. Tugging your lip between your teeth, you raise your hand to Bucky’s chest.

 “I definitely like that look. That’s the look of mischief in its purest form, Stevie.” Bucky Says. 

 “How about... You fuck me, while Steve fucks you?” 

 Your voice comes out smooth and sultry, reeling both men in within a second. 

 “Fuck... I’m definitely okay with this.” Steve Says, while his hand slips under Bucky’s shirt to graze his lower back. 

 “Jesus doll... Are you trying to kill me?” Bucky Asks with a smirk. 

 “Of course not, love. But the idea of watching you get fucked while you fuck me gets me so wet. I want to cum on your cock while Stevie cums inside you.” You say, pressing your chest against his as your fingers thread through his hair. He closes his eyes and lets out a groan. 

 “Don’t you want us to make you feel good?” You ask, sucking on his jawline while Steve’s lips are pressing against the back of his neck. Steve smirks over at you, sending you an impish wink as you both take your time kissing and nibbling at your boyfriends’ warm skin. 

 “Fuck... I don’t know how long I’ll last with both of you.” Bucky Says, hands gripping your ass and grinding your crotch against his. 

 “Trust me baby, you’ll be lucky if I don’t cum on the spot as soon as he’s inside you. I could probably cum five times just from watching you two.” You say. Both of them let out low groans, before Bucky gently moves both you and Steve away from him, then picking you up. On instinct, your legs wrap around his waist and he moves toward the bed, laying you down as gently as possible. 

 “Oh, so our little princess is a voyeur, huh? You like to watch?” Bucky asks with a smirk. You cut your eyes back at him, searching for the right word in your head to describe this specific kink.

 “I’m an observer, Barnes. I like to observe, to learn, to study. I prefer to consider myself a scientist of the erotic arts.” You say. Both men chuckle lightly as Bucky kisses your neck.

 “Well, you wanna watch, princess? How would you like to watch me blow Stevie? Would you like that?” He asks, his hands sliding up your shirt to caress your breasts over the thin material of your bralette.

 “Fuck... Yes. I wanna watch.” You pant, the idea of it already getting you hot and bothered. 

 “I have a better idea... Clothes off. You too, Stevie.” Bucky says, starting to tug off his own t-shirt while you get to work on your jeans and panties first. Once they’re off, you tug your top and bralette over your head, leaving you fully nude on the bed as you watch Steve drop his joggers while Bucky removes his jeans. 

 “That was quick. Someone must be eager.” Steve Says, noticing how quickly you’ve disrobed. A giggle falls past your lips as you sit on your heels on the smooth silk sheets. 

 “Have you seen yourselves? How can I not be?” You ask, watching as both of them tug off their boxers, revealing their rock hard cocks to the cool air of the room. You have to suck in a quiet breath upon seeing both of them, and you’re positive that your juices are dripping onto the sheets at this point. 

 “So Sergeant, what was your idea?” You Ask. He smirks and turns to Steve.

 “I was thinking, why not have Stevie lie down, and you can ride his face while I blow him.” Bucky Says. Steve lets out a quiet whimper, his cock twitching at the simple idea of it. 

 “Holy fuck. I’m so here for this.” You say. Bucky chuckles and gently leads Steve over to the bed. 

 As he lays his head against the pillows, you lean down to kiss the blonde super soldier for a brief second, before sitting up. 

 “My face is your throne, sweetheart.” Steve Says, making you giggle as you move your legs on either side of his face, your back turned to the headboard so you can watch Bucky. 

 Steve’s arms loop around your thighs instantly, pulling your dripping pussy down flush with his mouth. Your body trembles as your mouth forms an ‘O’ shape. 

 “F-Fuuuck! Oh god! Steve!” You scream, his tongue already working you vigorously as Bucky gently moves between his legs. The dark haired super soldier wraps his flesh hand around Steve’s cock, gently pumping it. You can tell it must feel good because you feel a moan sending vibrations through your core. 

 Slowly, Bucky leans down, wrapping his lips around Steve, and you swear you nearly came on the spot. You had to lean forward, bracing yourself against Steve’s rock hard torso to keep you steady. Steve pulls his mouth away from you for a few seconds, moaning at the feeling of Bucky’s mouth on him, before he falls back into it, eating you out more feverishly this time. 

 “Fuck Stevie. You taste so good. You want a taste, princess?” Bucky Asks. You giggle and lean forward, wrapping your lips around Steve’s cock, and Bucky takes the opportunity to stroke his own member for a second. 

 “That’s it, Princess. Suck his gorgeous cock. ” Bucky groans. His hand reaches between Steve’s legs, taking his balls in his hand and gently teasing them. As you pull your mouth off of his cock, Bucky leans down next to you, both of you taking turns licking and sucking every inch of him that you can get to. 

 Steve’s moans and whimpers are continuous now, only heightening your pleasure as the sound waves roll through you. Bucky pulls away a bit to take Steve’s balls into his mouth while you take his cock down your throat. 

 You can already feel your core tightening, tensing like a wire that’s ready to snap at any moment. When Steve’s tongue starts to flick over your clit, you know you’re almost there. You pull your mouth off of his cock with a gasp, still working him with your hand. 

 “Oh god! Fuck I’m gonna cum! Oh! Just like that! Ahh! Oh fuck fuck fuck... AHHH!” You scream, your hips trembling against Steve’s face. He grips your thighs a little tighter to keep you steady, but still allowing you to gently grind your pussy over his mouth, helping you through your orgasm as he laps up every drop of your release. Bucky pulls his mouth away from Steve, then helping you dismount from his face, noticing your trembling thighs and knowing you probably can’t move very efficiently on your own. He lays you down gently with your head against the pillows, and leaning in to take your lips in a tender kiss. 

 Steve gets up from his lying position and moves behind Bucky. As the blonde starts to kiss and nibble at his neck and shoulders, you reach into your bedside table, pulling out a bottle of lube. 

 “Stevie, here baby.” You say, extending your arm out and handing it to him. Steve smirks and takes it as Bucky teases your entrance with his tip. 

 “Buckyyy... Don’t tease me, baby.” You whine, attempting to wiggle your hips to gain more friction. 

 “We have to wait for Stevie, sweetheart. And teasing is half the fun.” He Says. Just as the words leave his mouth, Steve presses two lube covered digits against Bucky’s puckered hole, gently massaging it and working it with his fingertips. You watch above you as his eyes flutter closed, his head falling against your shoulder, biting and nibbling at your neck and collarbones. 

 Steve slowly slips one finger in, making Bucky bite down especially hard on your neck as he lets out a moan. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, looking up at Steve.

 “How does he look, Stevie?” You ask, growing wetter at the feeling of Bucky’s cock slowly and softly gliding against your folds as he grinds back and forth on Steve’s finger. 

 “Fuck... He looks so good, doll. He’s so fucking tight.” Steve Says, while slowly slipping in a second finger, scissoring them and working them around to loosen up the ring of muscle. Bucky groans, his lips leaving you as he focuses on the pleasure he’s being given. 

 “Does it feel good baby?” You ask, gently rubbing your hands over his back, hair, and shoulders. 

 “So good... Fuck...” Bucky pants. Steve slowly pulls his fingers out, making the brunette groan in protest. 

 “Hold on. Just let me get ready.” Steve Says. He pours a generous amount of lube onto his fingers, then slicking his cock with slow strokes of his hand.

 You’ve never seen Bucky let his guard down like this before. He’s completely overpowered by his own pleasure and need, and you’ve never witnessed anything so sexy in your life. 

 Steve gives you a nod from behind Bucky, and you take that as your signal, reaching between your bodies and guiding his cock inside of you. As soon as he feels the tight, wet heat of you, he comes to his senses enough to thrust into you, groaning as he does. 

 “Fuck princess. You’re so fucking tight. So wet.” He Says, leaning down to kiss you as he bottoms out, grinding his hips against you and swallowing your moans with his mouth as he kisses you deeper. 

 Steve positions himself at Bucky’s entrance, and pushes forward, the tight hole finally opening up for his large member, allowing his tip to slip inside. Bucky moans, his hands fisting into the sheets by your head.

 “Are you Okay baby?” You ask, kissing his neck. 

 “God fuck yes. Keep going Stevie. Oh fuck.” He groans. Steve pushes deeper and deeper into him, until he’s fully sheathed. Bucky is unraveling between you and the other super soldier, and as much as you all want to make it last, you know it won’t be long before you’re all gripping onto each other, milking your orgasms together until you’re completely spent. 

 “F-Fuck, Y/N, is… Jesus… Is this lube supposed to make you sensitive?” Steve asks, his breathing growing heavier and heavier while you simply smirk.

 “Oops. I must’ve given you the warming lube. Honest mistake.” You quip back, grinning up at both men as they groan in unison. All three of you know damn well it wasn’t a mistake, but both of them are feeling far too good at the moment to even care.

 “Oh god… Move Stevie. Fuck. Move.” Bucky says firmly, sounding more like an order than a request. Steve follows the command, pulling his hips back and pushing back in. Bucky calculates his movements, and times them perfect with his own thrusts into you. 

 “Oh my god, Bucky. Your cock feels so good.” You whine, watching as Steve’s face contorts into one of sheer pleasure. 

 “Faster, Stevie.” Bucky Says. 

 The blonde doesn’t have to be told twice before he’s quickening his thrusts, only forcing Bucky’s cock deeper inside you. You feel like you can hardly breathe. Your pussy is dripping wet and clenching around his thick cock, the sounds of your wetness reverberate around the room, only spurring both men on to go faster. Deeper. 

 “Fuck! Oh god... S-Stevie, does he feel good?” You ask through your heavy breaths. Steve lets out a moan.

 “So good, baby. Fuck. You should see how fucking good he looks spread open like this.” Steve Says. 

 “Steve! Y/N! Fuck!” Bucky groans above you. Steve thrusts hard and deep into him, electing deep groans from both of them. Steve lifts your legs off the bed, pushing them back and putting his hands on the back of your thighs to keep them in place. With the new angle, Bucky’s cock is ramming straight into your g-spot, and you start to see stars. 

 “Oh fuck! Yes! I’m gonna cum! Oh my... Fuck!”

 “Cum for us, sweetheart. Let me feel you cum around me. We’re right behind you.” Bucky Says. You reach a hand between your sweat slicked bodies, rubbing quick circles around your clit as Steve’s grip tightens on your thighs. 

 “Fuck! Bucky! Steve! FUUUUUCK!!” You yell. Your walls clamp down around Bucky’s cock, and white spots appear in your vision. The sound of Bucky and Steve panting and groaning above you only spurs on your orgasm, the burning pleasure spreading over you slow like hot molasses. Tears prick at your eyes with the intensity of it all. 

 “Stevie... Fuck!” Bucky groans, before you feel his seed spilling into you, painting your soaking walls with ropes of white cream. You can feel his body tending against you, his muscles rigged and flexing beneath his skin. 

 Steve lets out a groan of both yours and Bucky’s names only a few seconds later, his own high overtaking him. Bucky moans quietly at the feeling of Steve unloading inside of him. It makes him feel warm and so fucking full he can barely take it. 

 You all lay there for a few minutes, still connected as you try to catch your breath. 

 “Oh my god.” You say breathily, hands rubbing over Bucky’s shoulders. 

 “That was fucking amazing.” Steve Says, releasing his grip on your thighs and gently placing them back on the bed. 

 Steve pulls out first, and you hear him groan. 

 “Fuck. You’re dripping, Buck.” Steve Says.

 “Can I taste?” You ask with a smirk. Steve bites down on his lip as he swipes his finger over the puckered hole, then dipping it inside, thoroughly coating it with cum before leaning over, and placing it inside your mouth. You hum in approval and suck the digit clean, nearly making Steve groan when you release it with a quiet ‘pop’.

 Bucky slowly moves his weight off of you, pulling out of your tight heat and collapsing to your side. 

 “Are you Okay baby?” You ask, reaching over to run your hand over his arm. His eyes are closed, and his breathing still labored. 

 “Me? I’m fucking fantastic. Just gimme a minute.” He Says, making you and Steve giggle as the blonde leans forward, pressing his lips to yours in a sweet, passionate kiss. His hands move up your sides, caressing you gently before he pulls away. 

 “Fuck...” Steve says, making you furrow your brows as he looks between your legs, his palm running down your inner thigh.

 “What is it Stevie?” You Ask. He chuckles darkly, lowering his face to your sensitive heat. 

 “Looks like Bucky wasn’t the only one dripping.” Steve Says, referring to Bucky’s load that’s leaking out of you. 

 You don’t even have time to register what’s happening before Steve’s tongue is diving into your entrance, lapping up every drop of both yours and Bucky’s combined juices. 

 “S-Steve! Oh god baby I can’t! I’m too sensitive.” You whine. Steve simply winks up at you, as Bucky rolls to his side to face you, his hand running down your torso to your thigh. 

 “How do we taste, babe?” He Asks Steve, who releases your pussy lips from his mouth with a vulgar slurping sound. 

 “So fucking good, Buck.” He says, before licking away at your entrance again. 

 When he’s satisfied with your cleanliness, he moves up your body to kiss you once more, then lying on your other side, trapping you between their warm bodies. 

 “Buck, really are you okay? Did I hurt you?” Steve Asks, his hand reaching over to lie on top of Bucky’s on your stomach. 

 “I’m good, Stevie. I just got my soul fucked out of me and then fucked back in. I’m fucking great. Y/N, are you alright?” Bucky asks, leaning in to kiss your shoulder. 

 “Of course I am. I could not possibly be happier.” You reply, making both men smile as they lean in to kiss you, before leaning up to kiss each other. When Bucky pulls away from the kiss, he bites Steve’s lip, gently tugging it, resulting in a whimper from Steve, and also one from you. 

 “Fuck.” You whisper, making both of them smirk. 

 “Maybe for round two we should see how long she can watch before joining in?” Says Bucky. Your brow quirks upward, biting your own lip before replying. 

 “I’m ready when you are.”

[elatedmarvel]

No Use Crying Over Spilled Coffee

Word Count: Word Count: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: You keep bumping into Steve Rogers, literally. 

Word Count: 2364

Warnings: None, not even a swear word (weird I know) she’s a fluffy one

A/N: Remember when I said I was going on a 2 week hiatus? Lol what a joke. Sorry life keeps happening, but I’m going to try and be better about posting. I have so many ideas! Thank you so much for reading! ~J

The day you met him was unremarkable. 

You got up, got dressed, and headed to work like any other day. But, something possessed you to stop at that coffee shop. You had gotten up early, it was a bright morning, and you were early for work. You figured one cup of coffee from that fancy coffee shop down the way could truly make this Monday morning a good morning. 

You hummed the song playing in the coffee shop softly under your breath and stared at the specials. The choices all had your mouth watering and it was hard to make a decision. There seemed to be some commotion outside as you stepped up to order, but you paid no mind, it was a daily occurrence in NY. 

The barista handed you your drink, and just smelling it made you smile. Just as you were about to take your first sip, the front window was shattered as someone was thrown through- taking you and your coffee down with him.

“I’m so sorry” he panted out of breath, quickly scrambling off of you. You barely heard him, staring as you saw your precious coffee in a puddle on the floor. The sight alone could make you tear up, never mind the cuts and bruises you could feel start to form on your body. 

A hand came into view, and the world seemed to rush back to you. You looked up and there he was. Captain America.

“You spilled my coffee” was all you could respond.

“I’m sorry ma’am, but I didn’t really have a choice on the landing.” he tried to joke, clearly uncomfortable at your wide eyed gaze. 

“But my coffee…” was all you could utter again. Looking around you realized you were still sitting on the floor. You took his hand and he hoisted you up, almost pulling you off the ground. 

“Are you sure you’re ok? No concussion?” he asks as his face roams your face and he looks at your eyes. The color of your eyes and the depth of your stare made chills run down his neck. Lost in your eyes, he turns red when you clear your throat, bringing him back to the moment.

“No dilation, that's a good sign.” he awkwardly coughs. “I’m sorry about taking you down.”

“It’s ok. Are you hurt?” genuine concern laced your voice. His uniform was torn, and you were pretty sure he was bleeding. 

“I’m fine” surprised that you would ask him. No one ever asked him how he was.

You were about double check when he put his hand to his ear and murmured a coming. 

“I have to go, but if you feel drowsy or the pain is too much, you should go to hospital.” he states, already pulling away and rushing back to the fight. “I’m sorry” he shouts back at you once more, and he’s gone. 

It takes a second for your to shake out of your daze, but when you do you realize the coffee shop as gone almost back to normal. The customers were still lined up and the baristas were giving out orders. The only thing that made you sure you hadn’t dreamed it was the glass crunching under your shoes, the pitiful puddle of coffee on the ground, and the dull throb on your butt. 

You had almost forgotten about the incident by Friday morning when you stepped into your office and there it was. The most inconspicuous cup of coffee sitting on your desk, just your order and the perfect temperature.

If anyone asked, the pep in your step that day was certainly the caffeine, and not the handwritten post it note now thumb-tacked to your board. 

Thanks for breaking my fall, hope this makes us even :-)

~~~

Months later, your company had been invited to a huge fundraiser gala hosted by Tony Stark. The event was big, thrown at the Plaza with many fortune 500 companies in attendance. 

The moment you walked in, you were a little star struck. Unsure how you had made the cut for the guest list, you felt out of place. Though your boss had given you a generous allowance to spend on your attire, you’re sure your $2,000 Zac Posen evening gown couldn’t compare to the custom made designer gowns and suits that were gleaming under the light.

Spotting a close work friend and some people from your office, you made your way to the open bar and ordered your favorite wine.

“I feel so out of place” you say as soon as you join your group. Drink poised in your right hand.

“I know me too. I feel like we’re the charity.” Rachel from marketing jokes, and you instantly feel better being here. 

“What did we do to get on this list?” Jake from accounting asks. And the conversation flows from there. Jokes and small talk were had, and the more time you spent laughing with your co-workers, the more at ease you felt. 

2 glasses in and you were feeling loose, your reflexes weren’t as sharp as they should have been. When someone knocks you from behind, your drink goes flying out your hand and finds residence on your dress. The collective gasp from your group lets you know the stain is bad before you even have to look down. 

“I’m so sorry!” and you feel a sense of deja vu. Pivoting on your heels to see your assaulter, you come face to red face with Captain America.

“My wine.” was all you could mutter. If possible, his eyes widen even more.

“I’m so sorry Y/n! Bucky pushed me I swear!” he rushed out as he throws an accusatory finger at the brunette standing a few feet away with a Cheshire grin on his face. 

You shoot Bucky a small wave before glancing up at Steve again, and boy was that a mistake. If possible, he had gotten more handsome than when you last saw him. His hair was grown out slightly, and his face was freshly shaven. The suit he had on looked like it was molded for his body, and you tried so hard not to outwardly drool over him. You’re heart fluttered when you realized he knew and remembered your name. 

“We have to stop meeting like this.” you smirk up at him. Eyes taking in how his blush was spreading from his cheeks to his entire face.

“I swear it was an accident! I was telling Bucky that I thought it was you, he told me to say hi and gave me a little nudge” he rambles, heart pounding under your playful gaze. “I’m sorry I ruined your dress, I’ll pay for the dry cleaning bill. Or I’ll just buy you another one.”

At the mention of your dress, you realize that the wine was starting to sink into your dress and stick to your skin. 

“It’s ok Captain Rogers, I didn’t pay for it, and I doubt I’ll have an occasion to wear it again.” You glance around and find that your friends had moved elsewhere, leaving you alone with Steve.

“I think I’m gonna go. Get this off before it sticks anymore.” you say, trying to memorize Steve’s face. Sure it’ll be the last time you see him.

“Let me at least help you get home and make sure the stain didn’t set.” flushing when he realizes what that must sound like to you. “I swear I just want to make sure the dress and you are ok, I won’t even go into your building!”

Your heart warms at his blabbering, and you can’t help but smile up at him.

“I would lo-” and you get interrupted as Pepper Potts herself gives you a smile and takes Steve’s elbow.

“Sorry to barge in but it’s time for your speech Cap” was all she said as she started to drag him away. His eyes searching for you and mouthed an I’m sorry before he was swept away and engulfed by the crowd. 

Sure enough, the band quieted as Tony Stark appeared on stage and started the thank yous of the evening. Seeing Steve on stage and watching all the women in the room undress him with your eyes was your breaking point. The wine stain had started to cool, and your heart was tearing a little at being so close, yet so far away from him. The night was over, and all you wanted was to curl up with a pint of ice cream and watch reruns of Friends.

One last look to Steve, who was chewing the inside of his cheek and watching Tony finish up his speech, and you slowly made your way through the crowd. You never noticed the pair of sorrowful blue eyes watching your departure.

The next morning on your way out the door to find some coffee, a hulking bouquet of yellow roses was waiting for you on the doorstep. Sniffing the roses as you went to put them on your table, the card bought a permanent smile to your face.  

These roses dull in comparison to you, but I hope you accept my apology.

Steven G. Rogers

~~~

It was finally Friday after the longest week. Everything that could go wrong went wrong. You’re alarm didn’t go off on Monday leaving you 30 mins late for a meeting with the board of the company, unpredicted rainfall ruined your makeup and shoes on Tuesday, the copier jammed on Wednesday so you couldn’t scan any of your contracts, and Thursday brought about a case of mild food poisoning.

You were truly done with the week, and just wanted to crawl into your bed and hibernate till Monday. But, your best friends had made plans and you figured seeing them and some alcohol could brighten an otherwise horrible, no good week. 

The music was loud, but no match for the volume at which your friends and you laughed. You could feel the tension slip away story by story and start to be replaced by a decent buzz. Volunteering to get the next round, you gently balance the three drinks in your hands. Gingerly, you swivel on your heel and right into a brick wall of a man, effectively drenching both you and him. His hands come up to your arms to help you keep your balance. 

“I’m sorry!” you both exclaim, and you could recognize that voice anywhere. 

“You know, if you wanted to see me, all you had to do was say hi” you laugh as you look up and find the shocked face of one Steve Rogers. 

“Ugh, you must hate me by now” and he covers one giant hand over his blushed face.

“At least this time you got a small taste of your own medicine.” and you gesture to his soaked white tee shirt. If he notices how your eyes linger at the transparent shirt clinging to all the hard muscle underneath, he doesn’t say. 

“I owe you a new drink. Or 3” he smiles down at you. 

“I would take you up on that offer, but my girlfriends are waiting for me.” pointing at the table of women obviously staring at the interaction. He aims a small wave and half smile at them, which they return with great enthusiasm. 

“Let me replace your drinks then.” and he turns signals to the bartender before you can say anything. 

“Thank you, I’m sure they would love to tell the story of how Captain America bought them drinks.” you tease. 

“I’m glad they won’t hate me for ruining your night out.” and you both continue the small talk. So engrossed with each other, you don’t even realize that your drinks are ready until the bartender has to slap the bar to grab your attention. 

“I’ll walk you to your table, make sure you don’t spill that on anyone else.” and you feel his hand guiding you back towards your friends. “Don’t worry, seems like these things only really happen around you.” you smirk up, and you swear his whole face starts to turn red. 

“I’m sorry again, for the coffee and the wine and your beer.” he says and sincerely looks guilty. You’re heart could just burst at his expression, and you laugh when he sticks his bottom lip out in a pout.

“All is forgiven. Under one circumstance.” and you can hear your heartbeat in your ears. His lovely face morphs into one of confusion and your palms sweat a bit more. It’s now or never.

“You take me to dinner.” and the shocked look on his face has you questioning if you really were taking his kind gestures the wrong way. Maybe he was really just trying to be nice. 

His small laugh restarts your breathing, and you can feel a smile start to creep up on your face. “You beat me.” he states. “I was gonna spill one more drink on you and then as you out” he jokes. 

“I see, well I still have drinks in my hand if you want to stick to your plan.” you grin up at him.

“Nah, I think I’m good” he smiles and leans down slowly. His eyes flicker from yours to your lips. You meet him halfway and the moment your lips touch, the world melts away. His hand comes up to caress you face and you press yourself into him more. 

The sudden cold feeling of your beers spilling onto your pants had you pulling away. A little too wrapped up in the kiss, you had tilted the beers in your hand. 

“Shoot! I’m so sorry!” you say and you try not to laugh at the irony.

“It’s ok, partly my fault. I distracted you.” he says looking down at his now damp shoes. “But I guess this means I have to ask you out.” and his cheeky smile has you actually laughing. 

“It would be my pleasure. As long as I stay dry during the date.”

“Can’t promise anything darling.” and he pecks your lips once more before going back to the bar to replace your drinks.

Going into that coffee shop months ago was the best decision you had ever made.