#the way his shirt was already ruffled but it alludes to something different...

[yridenergyridenergy]

[1kook]

attachment: 1 image

— jjk x (f) reader

summary; But for Jungkook to initiate some sexting, nevertheless sexting at 1pm on a Saturday, when you were at work and you were almost positive he was supposed to be on stream right now? Unheard of, you had to mark this down somewhere. warnings; sexting, dick pics, dirty talk?, phone sex, vivid depictions of jungkook being just so sexy bc its true, rating; mature (18+) misc; mentions of youtuber kook 🥰, he’s just horny, stupid selfie trends (see here), he’s a little whiny but so hot v.v  wc; 4.6k 

notes; I've had this in my drafts since april 😐 n then i was like maybe we should actually finish this so i started n then last night i hit another follower milestone!!! so then i rlly forced myself to finish this bc i was so 🥺🖤👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 anyway enjoy lmk what u think its not proofread bc uhhhhh yeah 🤩

You’re at work when it happens.

It’s sometime between your usual listless thoughts of what to write for your weekly reflection papers for some course, and your trip to your store’s pharmacy to bother a coworker. Your phone vibrates in the pocket of your work apron. You’re normally pretty good at ignoring the sound, most of the times it’s just a classmate asking for help on homework or Jimin lamenting his love life, so you’ve grown used to ignoring the tiny vibrations, stocking a quarter shelf of different cooking oils before something in your brain tells you to check your phone.

You already know it’s not something grave, but that thought alone means nothing at the sight of the tiny jungkook♡ that appears at the very top of the list of notifications. Your boyfriend’s texts tended to be wildcards, never following a certain routine or alluding to any specifics. He could send you a long paragraph on how much he misses the scent of that one shampoo, the one you’d briefly run through last year because your usual brand was out of stock, with a ten point explanation on why you should switch back to it. Or two word, caveman sentences that drove you crazy because you never understood what exactly he wanted when he’d send those nondescript “munchies dip” texts.

You unlock your phone, clicking to the messenger app instead of directly on the notification. Hopefully the preview will give some warning on whether you should invest in this conversation or not. You hated the read receipts on messages, choosing to ghost conversations as you pleased, but Jungkook had wiggled his way into your phone one afternoon and specifically turned them on for his chat with you, and you’d never turned them off since. So he knows if you choose to ignore Attachment: 1 Image at 1:43pm exactly, and he'll pester you about it until you respond.

You contemplate it all for twenty seconds. It could be a variety of things, you guess, but the only way to find out is to actually see with your own eyes what he’s up to this time. He knows better than to distract you at work, is usually really good at waiting until your shift is over to spam you with messages. For him to send you something now, only a few hours into your shift, is uncharacteristic of him.

But you glance down the aisle anyway, taking note of some elderly woman you’d helped a few minutes prior and another teenager aimlessly walking around, probably looking for the snack aisle. You inhale and press down on your chat with Jungkook.

It takes you a moment to make out exactly what the image is, twisting and turning your phone around as you fight to see it without raising the brightness. It’s only when your eyes finally adjust to the dark screen, the faint beeping of the check-out registers fading into the distance, that you realize it’s a shot of the front of his sweatpants.

“Hm?” you murmur, getting brave enough to pinch the image between two fingers, zooming in until you’re able to decipher a multitude of details. For one, there’s a Flaming Hot Cheeto stain on the hem of his sweatpants, the same one you’d accidentally put on there a few weeks back and haven’t been able to wash out since. Then there’s that huge palm of his, tattoos and all, rested carefully against his thigh. It’s veiny and thick in all the right places, bringing all the attention to his knuckles, which you guess is what he was going for when you consider the centerpiece of the image—his hardened dick straining against the grey material.

There’s no text attached to the message, no snapchat font slapped over the image, so you wonder what exactly he wanted you to do with this information mid-shift. Well, realistically, you know exactly what he wants, but that doesn’t mean you won’t clown him before getting there. After all, Jungkook was seldom the naughty texter; sexting annoyed him, he would whine, because he would do all that and not even get to feel the true pleasure of sex, of being inside you. You’ve dabbled in it here and there, but it never went as perfectly as it did in pornos. He’d drop his phone and forget it, or you would straight up ignore the damn device as you went all in on yourself.

But for Jungkook to initiate some sexting, nevertheless sexting at 1pm on a Saturday, when you were at work and you were almost positive he was supposed to be on stream right now? Unheard of, you had to mark this down somewhere.

you what’s this about?

You decide to play it safe, because as exciting as the image of Jungkook at his computer chair, cock hard and angry at the thought of you, fluffy hair ruffled in that way you adored, jaw twitching and tightening as he touched himself, moaned deep and rough and just how you liked and—

As nice as that image was, for all you knew this vague message was Jungkook sending you a picture from a week ago to purposefully fuck with you at work.

jungkook♡ what time u get off? jungkook♡ miss you bad baby

Your stomach flips, and it takes everything in you to not squeal and bounce between the shelves like a toddler on a sugar rush. Here was your boyfriend, the cutest, sweetest boy, sending you dirty pictures of himself and telling you how much he needed you. Yes, YOU, not some random on the street, or someone else in a club, Jungkook needed pleasure and that pleasure could only come from you.

You glance back down the aisle again, checking your surroundings for the second time that day. You’ve been standing here, stock cart empty for a little over five minutes now, so it’s probably best to change location lest your manager come barking down your neck. You send one quick text before heading off for stock again.

you 4pm :(

Your phone dings again just as you’re leaving the stockroom, but you decide to check it once you get to the hygiene aisle you need to work on next. Still, the prospect of Jungkook having texted you has you walking with a skip in your step, one your coworker teases you about when you pass by her.

jungkook♡ fuck jungkook♡ tell me what panties youre wearing jungkook♡ please ?

You bite your lip, stopping yourself from smiling at the tone you’d picked up from his message. There was no doubt he’d been riled up for a while now, and you wonder if he sat through his usual Saturday morning streams with his cock hard, pushed against the edge of his desk like you knew he did when such things happened. The thought has you nearly fumbling with a bottle of aloe vera.

you seamless black thong you the one you bought me at the last vs sale

Briefly, you wonder if you should have lied and told him you were wearing that red lace set he’d given you last Valentine’s Day, the one he’d bought with his first big YouTube check. But the beauty of being in a relationship with someone like Jungkook is that you could have told him you were wearing grandma undies and he’d still think you were the most beautiful person to grace the planet.

jungkook♡ mm jungkook♡ tiny ones u ruined last time?

You set your phone down, speed stock a row of sunscreen like you’re on some shelf stocking national competition, before daring to text Jungkook again. Your cheeks are still warm, and your hand tightens dangerously around a bottle of shaving cream.

Before you can formulate some response, he’s sending another one in.

jungkook♡ u soaked those jungkook♡ came fast that day jungkook♡ want u so bad

Your cheeks burn, a little embarrassed that he remembers such details. As with all Victoria’s Secret panties, they were, like Jungkook said, extremely thin. You pause, shift your stance just barely, but you’re definitely wet. Not terribly so, but with this fabric, you’d start to notice it sooner than with others.

you mm you makin me wet bunny

It’s not a complete lie, but knowing Jungkook this is exactly what he needs to hear to get that competitive streak going. You shake your head to clear your thoughts, stocking another section of men’s shaving cream. It takes longer for him to message you back, and you wonder if he got off fine on his own. If it’s over now, at least he provided you with some distraction midway into your shift.

When he texts you again, you’ve almost completely convinced yourself he’s finished, so the Attachment: 1 Video that appears on your lock screen throws you for a loop.

It’s a short clip, no longer than ten seconds, but it has you scrambling to lower the volume on your device as some unsuspecting mother of two wanders past. You flash her your practiced smile, the same one you give all the store’s customers. Not like your boyfriend is jacking it off on your phone, shallow pants filtering out from the speakers.

You turn your phone over carefully after she leaves, try to at least pretend you’re still doing your job as you play the video again.

Sweats are gone, but boxers remain. Legs deliciously exposed, thick thighs with muscles that ripple when he moves. Shirt pulled up just slightly to showcase that broad expanse of tummy, cute belly button and defined abs that tighten with each glide of his palm over the outline of his cock. Your mouth fills with drool at the sight. He was so hot.

Your brain hasn’t even processed it yet, all your energy directed towards your clenched pussy, when he shoots another text.

jungkook♡ im so fckin hard jungkook♡ wanna kiss yuo every where baby jungkook♡ come ove r soon ??

Shutting your eyes and counting to ten doesn’t help ward off the sudden wave of horniness that consumes you, but it does remind you of the job you’re supposed to be doing now. You shake your head, as if the image of Jungkook’s dick throbbing beneath his boxers, low voice in your ear, will magically disappear. It doesn’t, and it plagues you even more when you begin stocking a section of sunscreen, numbly instructing yourself on what to do next. Shaving cream, sunscreen, lotion next, you repeat.

It doesn’t help.

Two minutes later and you’re scrambling for the phone you’d hastily tucked into your apron pocket, tapping your passcode in until your messages with Jungkook are pulled up again.

you after work you promise

Your head is absolutely spinning, the coil in your stomach too tight for you to try and be a functioning member of society. Something in you says to sneak off to the bathroom and call him, but your boss is a little bit of a prick when he wants to be, thinks you take too many bathroom breaks as is.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. A curt call of your name has you whirling to face your shelves again, phone tightly pressed against your ribs like maybe it’ll melt into your skin and he won’t see it. At the same time, your sudden fright has you scrambling to turn it off, fingers sloppily pressing against the buttons, hitting the volume like seven times before you eventually feel the familiar click that signals it’s off.

Your boss disappears shortly after, and with his sudden appearance having made every hair on your body stand, you find yourself now slumping against your stock cart. Jesus, that man was a handful to deal with.

The paranoia sticks for a little bit, has you stocking shelf after shelf like a robot until you finish the entire row of hygiene products, back stiff from bending over so much. It’s only when you return to the stockroom ten minutes later that you dare take your phone out again.

A pleasant surprise awaits.

It would appear that during your haste to hide your phone from your boss— Jungkook’s scandalous messages and all —your frantic hands had done something else. A fuzzy picture on your end, a blurry display of lotion bottles you had stacked just before your boss’s impromptu appearance, with no words to accompany them. Normally Jungkook would have ignored that; you frequently sent accidental messages like this, butt texted him, he says.

But there’s something about Jungkook’s horny brain that makes him do stupid things, makes him blow up your phone with a series of question marks, call you four times, whine and fuss in your message thread, and eventually, send you probably the oddest image to date.

jungkook♡ ??? jungkook♡ ????what is that jungkook♡ baby please jungkook♡ I don’t get it ??

jungkook♡ Missed Call (4)

jungkook♡ baby jungkook♡ what does it mean jungkook♡ please ur drivign me insane jungkook♡ jsut wanna hear yuor voice jungkook♡ fuck please just

And then, there’s another one of those cursed Attachment: 1 Image messages.

You shouldn’t be as surprised as you are. You’ve been dating Jungkook for a few months now, know he had that sort of unique personality most college dropouts turned YouTubers do. But every now and then the absurdity of his actions makes you question him still, makes you wonder what exactly goes on in that pretty head of his to warrant such ideas, makes him balance a bottle of body lotion on the thick outline of his cock like this.

Unlike the first few images, this one was taken in front of a mirror. The blinding fluorescent light in his bathroom paints him in a stark color, has every inch of his pretty face on display for you. Rosy cheeks, dewy skin. Perfectly swollen cock straining beneath his grey boxers, curved up against his hip. Shirt pulled up, finally freeing that expanse of muscles on his abdomen, cute little belly button on display once again. The red material is pulled up to his mouth, pearly white teeth biting down on the fabric, and he’s got this flushed expression on his face.

But the real star of the show isn’t his chiseled abdomen or sexy expression, but the sheer hardness of his dick that lets him balance a bottle of body lotion over it, like a fuckin’ shelf or something. He’s so hard, dick so full beneath his boxers. So big too, the little boxers pulled taught around said engorged cock and thick thighs.

Your brain says to laugh, to tease him for being such a clown even when he’s horny as hell. He won’t take it to heart, will probably laugh along with you and you’ll add it to your still growing list of funny memories.

But your caveman libido says call him, so that’s what you do, ducking down behind a new shipment pallet with a squeak as the phone rings. It only lasts four seconds before he picks up, voice breathy and low, but it sounds so loud in the silence of the stockroom.

He doesn’t even let you get a greeting in. “You like my picture, baby?” he husks. It sounds like he’s right there, right beside you, speaking into your ear. Your pussy throbs at the way he sounds. Paired with the picture from before, it has your body tingling all over.

“What the fuck is that?” you hiss, trying to not let the sudden overflow of arousal leak into your words. Jungkook chuckles.

“What?” he huffs. There’s the brief sound of shuffling, the scratchy noise of his phone presumably being pressed against his shoulder. “I’m so hard, baby,” he sighs before you can pretend to reprimand him any further. “Fuck— you, can you just talk to me?” he groans, and the disgusting sound of him spitting into his palm fills your ear.

Your face feels warm, eyes nervously peering across the stockroom like your boss will suddenly appear now of all times to rip you from this important phone call. The anxiety and arousal mix weirdly, have your leg bouncing but every new movement sends a shock up your aching cunt to your chest, and then out to the tips of your fingers.

“You shouldn’t be doing that when I’m at work,” you murmur hurriedly, moving to nervously bite at your finger. Jungkook moans softly.

“Uh huh,” he says.

The air conditioning turns on and you nearly jump out of your own skin. “Kook,” you stress, frazzled by your own burning arousal and the fear of being caught. Like you said. Weird mix. “I— not when I can’t respond.”

He shudders on the line. “You’re responding now,” he points out. You hate when he’s right. Before you can defend yourself, define what a proper response is in this scenario, he’s beating you to the punch. “Baby,” he whimpers, voice so airy yet low, makes your eyes roll into the back of your head, back unconsciously arching. “Couldn’t stop— fuck.”

Your mouth feels dry, all and any form of lecturing fading from your thoughts as you become consumed in Jungkook’s little whines and whimpers. He talks smoothly, a modern day Casanova, and it’s certainly because of that cult-like harem he’s gathered on YouTube. Teenage girls who kiss his ass, tell him he’s cute and dreamy. Make his ego so big.

But then he gets horny and can barely contain that lisp you tease him about, shivers and melts when you put his cock in your mouth. “Couldn't what, bunny?” you mumble, voice drawn tight because now you were really horny, and it was all his fault.

The nickname makes him mewl prettily, your speaker suddenly going scratchy as he fumbles with his phone. “C- Couldn't stop thinking about you— your mouth,” he admits, and now you’re certain he’d sat through that Saturday morning stream like this. “T- Tits,” he adds, lisp slipping through. “Fuck.”

You bite your lip, eyes fluttering shut as you remind yourself now was not the time or place to get yourself off. But, well. That didn’t mean you couldn’t get him off. “Sat through your stream like this?” you murmur, circling your kneecap with a trembling finger as if it’ll ward away the raging lust in your abdomen. Jungkook confirms with a breathy moan. “Had all your little fans wondering why you ended so early.”

He groans. “No,” he chokes, voice hot from how much it wavers. “They— I lied,” he confesses out of nowhere, “s- said I had a doctor’s appointment.”

You muffle a giggle into your palm. “Naughty,” you tease. “Too hard to do your job.”

“Just,” he cuts off, voice feathery. He sounds so close and you haven’t even said anything of substantial value yet. “Tell me,” he says quietly, “what to— mmh, what to do.”

A smirk consumes your features. You try to hide it, but there’s no one here anyway so you’re left grinning at an unpacked box of dental floss like a madwoman. “Why?” you inquire playfully, bask in the sad little whimper he responds with. “Shouldn’t you know how to make yourself cum?”

Another groan of frustration, desperation seeping into his tone when he speaks again. “Baby, please,” he begs, and it feels good. Feels nice to have this big YouTuber begging for you like this, whimpering your name like his doesn’t appear on the top 25 most viewed. “Like when you— ah — when you tell me… what to do.”

Your body feels hot, thighs pressing together with each whimper that falls from his lips. “Okay,” you concede, and he audibly moans in relief. “Tip first,” you instruct softly, eyes defocusing as your brain slowly starts to manifest the image of Jungkook spread out on his bed. Thick thighs, grey boxers pulled taught around them, fat cock between his pretty hands, inked knuckles squeezing around his member. You swallow. You can tell exactly when Jungkook does as you say because another muffled moan fills the speaker. “One finger,” you remind him quickly, head spinning from the mere memory of his dick. “Run it… run it over the slit, bunny.”

“Nngh—“ Jungkook sputters. You can only imagine the face he’s making now, the bottom lip he’s bitten raw by now. He does it a lot; it’s a nervous habit. But as sexy as it looks when you’re in bed, you know he has sensitive lips because of it, bleeds easily if he’s too harsh. You have half the mind to remind him about it now, but then he’s hurriedly gasping out for more. “And, and then? Wha— what then, baby?”

He sounds so sweet, melodic voice dripping with honey. “Touch your balls,” you say a little breathlessly. “Don’t squeeze,” you add, “just roll your palm over them.” Your palm squeezes against your thigh, as if it’s remembering the feel of his body, the soft skin between his thighs when you’re down there. He gets so jittery, thick thighs nearly crushing you if you drag him along too much. “O- Other hand on your cock,” you stumble, thighs squeezed together. “Stroke yourself just like I do, bunny.”

Jungkook complies. “Just like you?” he mumbles, suddenly sounds farther away. As if he’s dropped his phone off to the side. “Fffuck,” he grunts, “m- mouth is so pretty.”

“Hm?” you inquire, so consumed with tampering down your growing arousal for a second that you miss his sentence.

Jungkook’s breath stutters, and for a moment you’re met with the wet squelch of his cock in his hand. And then, “pretty mouth… make me— make me wanna see you cry.”

You bite your lip. “Why,” you say tentatively, finally caving in with a hand fluttering over the front seam of your jeans. Not a question, more of a gentle nudge for him to spill his thoughts.

“Be- Because,” he cries, fucking into his hand. He sounds closer and closer. You have to wonder just how long he had been riled up. It’s been a while since his first message, he was probably desperate by now. “Y- You’re so nice,” he cries, and the sentiment, though oddly out of place, makes your heart squeeze with adoration for the boy on the line. “Wanna be,” he groans, “wanna be so fucking mean to you, baby.”

The sudden change of tone makes you choke on a moan, hand pressing against your mound like it’ll somehow penetrate the thick material of your jeans and give you the sensations you crave. As it stands, it’s a muted feeling you get instead. When your hands fail, his voice compensates. “Fffuck, don’t you— don’t you think about it too?”

Admittedly, no.

Jungkook had always been a gentleman in bed. Always cared for your needs before his own, went out of his way to make you feel pampered and adored during your most vulnerable moments. Contrary to what his online persona might say, he was a good boy. Sweetest boy you knew, touched you like you were made of glass.

So to suddenly learn of this dream— fantasy? kink? —of his that you would certainly enjoy equally as much, well. It made you whimper into your palm, eyes worriedly flickering toward the stockroom’s entrance.

“Why?” you whisper, feeling like a broken doll repeating the same phrase over and over again. You’re suddenly aware of how hot everything was. Your polo felt sticky against your spine, apron too tight, jeans too stuffy. How long had you been hiding in here for? You don’t even know. Hopefully your absence on the floor had gone unnoticed.

Jungkook pants into the line; everything sounds so sticky and wet on his end, hand undoubtedly working away at his cock. “Shit,” he curses, doesn’t really answer your question until you prod a second time. “I- I like it,” he stammers. “When you… fuck, when you look small.” He elaborates before you can even ask, breath heavy and drawn out. He was so close. “When your mouth… when it hurts,” he says, thoughts a scrambled mess. “Like when you— when you cry because my cock is— it’s too big for you.”

A blatant ego boost you’ll ignore for now. Not like you can focus on too many things right now anyway. “Your cock is big, bunny,” you agree softly instead. Your legs feel cramped from crouching so long, so you push yourself to your feet. Except then you’re made aware of how fucking wet you are, panties soaked from the phone call with your boyfriend. You shift and they stick to your folds, make you release a shaky exhale that Jungkook doesn’t miss.

“I— you’re wet,” he says boldly, and this time your meek confirmation isn’t a lie. Jungkook grunts. “Fuck, baby, I—“ cut off by his own whiny cry, probably bucking into his hand like a madman by now. “Wanna, wanna kiss you everywhere,” he says, a call back to his earlier message. Your legs feel like jello. You want him to kiss you everywhere too— lips, tits, cunt that is dripping for him now.

“I- I’ll be over soon,” you stammer, feeling like you’ll pass out if he carries on any further. He sounds so good on the line, soft pants, rough growls. You can’t possibly listen anymore, not when you’re so wet and horny in the middle of your shift. “Just,” you pause, can’t get the image of his pretty cock out of your mind. Every blink makes it more vivid, reminds you of the vein on the underside, the exact shade of the tip.

“What?” Jungkook hisses, voice higher than usual, parts of it lost under the rapid movements of his hand. “Tell me, baby, tell me what to do,” he begs hoarsely, “I’ll do it.” Sounds so desperate and needy, two seconds away from busting all over his hand.

You have to lean against the wall of the stockroom to ground yourself, remind yourself you’re not in the same situation as Jungkook and can’t cum in your pants like a teenager. “J- Just cum,” you choke, eyes fluttering shut.

He must’ve been waiting for that command, because the second the words leave your throat he’s filling the line with breathy groans and cries as he comes all over himself, probably ruins his t-shirt. The sounds have your hips unconsciously bucking forward into nothingness, the frustration of not being able to cum with him manifesting in the form of a tiny little sob. Luckily, he doesn’t catch it.

When it’s all said and done, he’s left panting into the receiver, flooding your speaker with breathy sighs that only make you more and more aroused.

“You’re terrible,” you frown, cheeks flushed, body tingling. You flip your wrist over and check the time; it’s been about sixteen minutes since you disappeared from outside. Sixteen minutes of listening to Jungkook touch himself and moan and whine and whimper. Tease you with new possibilities you had never considered before. And now he’s satisfied and you’re not.

Jungkook chuckles, low and tired. The sound shoots straight to your cunt. “Come over after you shift,” he says, as if you’re not planning to fake a severe case of the flu right now in order to get off early and run to his bed. You only had a little less than two hours of your shift left anyway. Not like they paid you well to begin with. Jungkook shifts, releases one of those saccharine groans as he probably snuggles into his bed, all sweaty and worn out. “Want you to fuck my face, baby.”

You frown, counting to ten to calm yourself down. Another few minutes of listless conversation, and you hang up. Your body feels featherlight, a little woozy as you make your way back out into the floor.

Nothing has changed. Customers pour in and out, your boss scolds you for a display you didn’t do, and life inside the store drags on. No one knows that you’re soaking your panties to hell and back, Jungkook’s soothing moans in your ear. Life goes on.

you shift ends in 20

jungkook♡ sweet jungkook♡ got your seat ready jungkook♡ Attachment: 1 Image

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[its-freakinbats]

Jim Kirk (AOS) x Leonard McCoy (AOS)

Description: Jim Kirk stresses over meeting one Joanna McCoy. For @darlinleonard

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 2593

Notes: Very short, but heartwarming, I suppose. My first completed work, so there’s that. Also, suspend your realism for the last paragraph. It may be somewhat far-fetched, but so was Into Darkness, so.

Jim was unsure of how to expect the meeting to go.

Well, unsure wasn’t the precise word. To be more accurate, Jim was pretty fucking terrified of what was to come.

It was illogical to feel the way he did about the impending event, Spock would tell him and yet logic didn’t always seem to take care of the situation at hand; something that Jim was still struggling to teach Spock.

When Bones first told Jim of Joanna’s arrival three weeks ago, the captain had laughed. He would surely charm Joanna; they had spoken several times during shore leave, albeit over webcam. Still, every time the girl expressed her gratitude toward the captain. Having a father in Starfleet also meant the possibility of losing him to some space terror, something that the twelve year old had come to realize at a young age; to have a captain such as James T Kirk to helm the ship her father was on was a blessed gift to the child.

But her father had only really alluded to the relationship a few times. Jim understood why Bones was stepping so gently around it; Jocelyn had only just married Clay a few years ago, so needless to say Joanna was already adjusting to one stepparent.

But then they were faced with Khan Noonien Singh, an obstacle that neither of them had ever expected to face. Even worse, Leonard was faced with a greater obstacle: loss.

Jim knew how hard it had been for everyone, particularly Bones. The possibility of losing Jim forever had struck the man in a way that nothing else had in recent memory, with the exception of losing Jo to her mother.

And now that Jim was busy recovering, Leonard couldn’t bear the thought of Jo not meeting Jim as her father’s partner, and thus decided that now was as good of a time as any for the two to finally meet. He had explained this all to Jim late one evening after spending several hours re-exploring each other’s bodies, leaving no expanse untouched.

“She’s already so fond of you, Jim,” Bones muttered into his lover’s mussed hair. “If it weren’t for her daddy already being in Starfleet, I’d swear she was planning on going just to meet you.”  At the time, Jim hadn’t found the statement so daunting. It was a heartfelt secret shared between the two, not an obstacle.

But now as the two were standing next to one of the many international transporters in San Francisco, Jim could honestly say he had never been more terrified to meet a thirteen year old girl. The plan was to pick up the teen, show her around the area, and take her to dinner where they would tell her. A fun day, and yet Jim had never dreaded anything more in his life.

“Would you calm down for two seconds?” Len had berated him as the blonde man fiddled restlessly with the sleeves that fell at his wrists. Was it too informal? Jim wondered. The long sleeved t-shirt and jean ensemble had seemed practical thirty minutes ago, but now Jim was fretting over how casual the outfit looked. He was captain, after all. Should he have worn something different?

It was stupid, really, but Jim just couldn’t shake the feeling that, well, he might not seem good enough. It wasn’t until Bones spoke at him again that he pulled himself from his self-deprecating reverie.

“Jim, what’s buggin’ you so much? You’re starting to give me anxiety,” the CMO teased slightly, but stopped when Jim looked at him. He had that look in his eye that told Bones that he was unsure of something. He was afraid if he spoke, he might lose the toast he’d eaten just hours previously.

“Oh, kid. It’s not Jo that’s eatin’ you up, is it?” Len asked gently. His hand went to clasp Jim’s; the CMO must have noticed that his hands were sweaty, but said nothing, thankfully. “Jim, I can’t help you if you don’t give me anything,” the man said tenderly, something that was rather uncommon for the gruff doctor.

Jim hesitated; it really was ridiculous that the opinion of a kid was making him so damn worried. But Bones was right. If he didn’t do anything, he’d be a mess when Joanna showed up.

“I just…she really holds me in a high regard. You’ve said it yourself,” Jim said, his eyes fixing themselves on the concrete sidewalk they were standing on. “She idolizes me even. What if I’m not what she thinks I am, Bones? What if when she hears that we’re together, she…just feels differently. What if she doesn’t like me? What if I’m not…”

“Not what?”

“What if she doesn’t think I’m good enough?” Jim finished quietly. He looked up to meet Leonard’s half surprised hazel eyes.

“You’re kidding me, right?” the other man asked with a raised brow. “Jim, I don’t know what made you think that Jo’s not gonna like you, but it’s wrong,” he reassured the man. Jim gave a half-hearted smile. “God, Jim. You make it sound like you’re meeting my parents. Which, if they didn’t happen to like you, wouldn’t make any difference to me. What matters to me is how I feel about you.”

“Sorry,” Jim replied softly after a beat of silence.

“Don’t be. Just be yourself, Jim.”

“Oh, okay. Just wondering, when did you become a counselor? “Jim-”

“You got another degree in your pocket that I don’t know about?”

“God, you’re horrible.”

“You chose me.”

Bones sighed, but looked down at their intertwined hands with the hint of a smile playing at his full lips. “I guess I did,” he admitted. He shared a gaze with his boyfriend before the younger man rolled his eyes. “Don’t be so mushy in front of your daughter,” Jim teased. Leonard rolled his own eyes. As if it had been timed accordingly, the humming of the transporter could be heard on the street corner, and the two shared a gaze. Jim, whose blue eyes grew wide in fear, met Leonard’s calm ones. You’ll be fine, Jim, they told him. Jim nodded slightly, before sucking in a breath. He released Leonard’s hand, and joined in watching the small body begin to appear before them.

A gasp was heard, before Joanna McCoy appeared in a shimmer of teal, with a small suitcase trailing behind her. Her big hazel eyes blinked several times before focusing on her father, and a large smile appeared on her face. “Dad!” she cried happily, suitcase forgotten as she rushed up to meet him in a tight hug.

“Jojo!” Leonard greeted the girl as his large arms wrapped themselves around her. Jim felt a warmth shoot through him despite the trepidation; it was rare to see Bones smile that broadly, and that peacefully, too. “Oh, I missed you, Joanna Renai,” Leonard said before planting a large kiss atop of the girl’s strawberry blonde head. “Ew, dad!” Joanna whined from her father’s grip. Leonard pulled away with a smirk. “What, now that you’re thirteen you can ignore smooches from your pa? I don’t think so, ma’am,” Bones teased his daughter.

Jim, who was standing awkwardly with his arms crossed, shuffled slightly in his spot. Despite how happy it made him to see Bones like this, the man felt as if he were terribly out of place.

Bones pulled away from his daughter to gesture to the blonde man.“Oh, Joanna, I’d like you to meet Jim Kirk. He’s the captain of the Enterprise,” he explained. Joanna, who was all too familiar with Jim, smiled big. “It’s a pleasure to meet you in person, captain,” she said as she stuck her hand out. “Jim’s gonna have dinner with us, Jojo,” Leonard informed the girl, who brightened slightly. It wasn’t everyday you had dinner with your father and your idol, Jim thought. “Jojo, why don’t you tell Jim what you plan to do at Starfleet.”

Joanna pulled a sick face. “Can we not, dad? I just transported across the country. I feel pretty gross,” she admitted. Jim snorted to himself. “I wonder where she gets that from,” he said smartly before grabbing Joanna’s suitcase.

“So, what do you think of San Francisco?” Leonard asked Joanna in between bites of sushi. The girl shrugged as she sipped her lemonade. “It’s fine. I’m honestly just kind of disappointed.”

Bones looked at Jim with a slightly alarmed eyebrow.

“About?” he asked his daughter.

“Well, I was kind of expecting a tribble when I got here, but…”

“Joanna Renai McCoy, the time I get you a tribble is when I want your mother to physically drag me by me teeth and drop kick me into Saturn’s orbit.”

“You know the funny thing is, he probably likes space less than he likes that idea,” Jim quipped from Bones’s side to the girl. Joanna snorted appreciatively as Bones rolled his eyes. After a few hours and a drink, Jim had relaxed somewhat. Still, he felt apprehension sitting his stomach like a rock. “Well,” Bones announced suddenly as he stood from his seat, “with that, I think I’m gonna go grab another drink. Jim, you want another one?” he asked. The blonde man gave a slight shrug. “A gin and tonic would be nice,” he said. Bones nodded. “How about you, Jo? Another lemonade?” The girl shook her head. “I wanna finish this one first, dad,” she said with a slight giggle.

“Okay,” he said, before ruffling the girl’s hair. She stuck her tongue out at her father’s retreating back before turning to sip her drink. “What a doody-head,” she muttered to herself, making Jim snort. “Wow, you kids really need to work on your insults,” he teased. Joanna raised an eyebrow in a manner that very much reminded Jim of Bones. “Please, have you met my father? I didn’t grow up learning weak insults, you know.”

“Oh, I’ll bet. Has he told you of all of the creative names he’s come up with for Spock?” he asked with a smile. Joanna shook her head. “I’ve only really heard a few of them, to be honest. But, I’m sure dad’s come up with real winners.”

“Hey, so this is gonna be a little random, but what is it you really want to do in Starfleet? You sounded kind of embarrassed earlier,” Jim wondered suddenly. Jim had heard from Bones on a few occasions that she was interested in Starfleet, but had never really asked. Joanna looked down bashfully. “Honestly?” she asked, looking at him like he would laugh at her. Jim nodded. “Yeah.”

“I really want to captain a ship. Like you.”

“What’s so weird about that?” Jim inquired.

“Well, I had only just met you, and I’m sure my dad has told you all about how I think you’re one of the greatest people in the world and stuff.”

Jim smiled. “He’s mentioned it.”

“Well, I didn’t want to sound like a complete freak when I first showed up. Also, dad does this thing whenever I happen to meet his friends where he gets all teary-eyed and starts talking about all of my accomplishments, and I really didn’t want to deal with that,” Joanna admitted. Jim quirked a brow at the girl. “He is proud of you, though. He loves bragging whenever he gets messages from you.” Joanna covered her face with her hands. “Oh, no. He doesn’t do it in front of everyone, does he?” Jim shook his head. “No, just in front of Christine and I. Sometimes M’Benga when he’s feeling rapturous.”

The two then fell into a comfortable silence for a few moments. Jim, who was curious about the habits of his boyfriend, decided to prod slightly. “Does he really do that? Get all…teary-eyed and goobery?” Jim asked before raising his glass to finish his drink. Jo shrugged. “Sure. Honestly, I figured you probably picked up on it, being his boyfriend and all,” she replied nonchalantly.

Jim, who received the emotional equivalent of whiplash from the response, spat his drink out in a rather unattractive manner. Joanna merely blinked at him, though not without crinkling her nose gently at the man’s reaction. As the man craned his neck to look back at the girl, he stammered. “Wh-what?”

His gaze swept surreptitiously across the restaurant, praying that Bones would appear at any moment to save him from embarrassing himself further.  When he looked back at Joanna, she was holding her own dinner napkin in her hands to offer to him. He quickly took it, slightly ashamed that she had given up her own napkin; though his mind was still buzzing from her confession.

“Y-you did? For how long? Does your mom know?” Jim babbled as he dabbed uselessly at his slightly stained top. Joanna blinked her big hazel eyes at him, before breaking into a fit of giggles at the entire situation, much to Jim’s confusion. Before the man could speak up again, Bones could be heard from beside them. “I’m gone for a few minutes and already there’s a problem,” he joked. However, he caught Jim’s distressed eye and raised a brow. “What’s going on?” the man inquired, looking between his daughter and his boyfriend.

Joanna shook her head; ringlets bounced childishly around her face. “Oh, nothing. Your boyfriend thinks that I can’t pick up on things.”

Bones shot him an accusatory look. “I thought we were going to tell her together.”

Jim merely stammered.

“Oh, he didn’t tell me. I kind of figured it out,” Joanna said with a wave of her hand. “Honestly, you idiots aren’t as subtle as you think you are. God, does the crew always see you act this embarrassing?” she asked.

Joanna looked at her father, who appeared to be having a stroke. “Are you okay, dad?” she asked curiously. The man, who had just seated himself, proceeded to released a bark of laughter.

“Oh, oh, god. You really are my kid,” he managed to say after catching his breath.

The confession on Joanna’s part lead an air of comfortable felicity. Several drinks later, Jim was ready to head home and play Uno with Joanna, who had vowed to kick his ass.

She really was Leonard’s child.

All the two had to do was wait outside while Bones picked up the bill.

But they were content with chatting happily about their shared love of hell raising. “Just remember to put a few of the ‘Pop-It’s’ on the toilet seat. Also, don’t shut the lid too hard. You don’t want to set them off before someone sits on the toilet.”

Joanna nodded seriously. “Okay, I’ll remember.”

Jim gave her an approving look before looking out at the San Francisco sky. He hummed to himself as he tried to name the galaxies that surrounded them.

There was a moment of pure silence before Jim spoke up. “Hey, kid. You really want a tribble?” he asked, looking at the girl. Joanna raised a brow. “Sure,” she said slowly, looking at him with consideration. “I mean, I know they reproduce at a crazy rate and everything, but-” “Hey, don’t worry about that. Your dad actually brought one back to life, and we have nowhere to put it.” Joanna blinked. “Really? You’re serious?” she asked, excitement practically oozing her pores. “Sure. It’s at the hotel room right now. Your dad’s gonna kill me, but it’s not like he doesn’t threaten that on a regular basis,” Jim grumbled to himself as he eyed the man walking out of the restaurant.

[eleneyaeventide]

[ RP snippet/collab with @eliyon-starfury]

It had been quiet for them since their return to the small estate that Eli’yon kept up in return for him and Eleney’a’s living arrangements there. Life had, for most purposes, returned to normal. There were very few hints to allude anyone to their noble births with the way in which they worked about the estate. It was true, Eleney’a did have a small household that would assist her and Eli’yon had a farm hand or two to assist him. They’d occasionally allow a wayward traveler to spend the night within the abode before venturing out in the morning with a renewed sense of warmth and a full belly. The visions that Lord Duskhollow had implanted in his mind prevented him from obtaining a full night’s sleep since their departure however. He hadn’t mentioned any of it to Eleney’a. It was in part because of his desire to not want her to worry, but another part of his pride swelled with keeping such things a secret. He had never wanted to ask for help of anyone.

The sun was beginning to fade beneath the line of the trees that lay near the edge of their property and Eli’yon took that as his cue to return to the homestead on the estate. Valion had flown over the treetops at a speed which had made Eli’yon’s loosely fitting shirt ruffle wildly. It was rare that the beasts experienced combat these days. Eli’yon had delayed his deployment to Argus temporarily and his menagerie had settled in somewhat nicely to daily life, or so he had liked to believed. The hunting for their food had satisfied what he could provide in way of bestial urges. The wolfhawk landed in front of the estate with a hasty gust of wind and Eli’yon quickly slipped from the fur, patting the beast on the head briskly before shooing him off. He was trained well enough to know the grounds and where he could and could not travel to. It had given the beast master little to worry of. “Neya?” Eli’yon called as he stepped through the doorway and ran a hand through his newly tangled hair as a result of the flying.

There was a soft sizzling sound that seemed to echo through the small estate, the delightful scent accompanying it would allude to what she was doing and where she could be found before her voice carried through the hall to respond to him. “In the kitchen!” She was unlike her sister and many of her noble lineage in many ways, one of which was such a simple little thing but a difference made nonetheless. Eleney’a stood before the large oven with her thick, long, dark brunette hair messily tied up in a bun and very simple dress covered by a dainty apron. As he would enter into the room, she would not pause in her preparations of their meal, however she would glance over her shoulder to offer him a smile. “Welcome home, I hope the day was profitable?”

Eli’yon made his way through the modest estate with his nose leading him moreso than her voice. The dried mud on his boots trekked through the manor somewhat that followed his path through the halls. He arrived to the kitchen with a rather humble greeting as his hands loosely found themselves about her waist and his lips quickly pressed themselves to the crook of her neck. “I was expecting you to be wearing...less,” he spoke in a rather teasing manner as he pulled away from her to seek out the icebox. The magical contraption did an interesting job at keeping things and fresh and cool. His hand reached for the pitcher of mead and he poured himself a hefty helping of mead. The liquid was more than halfway consumed within seconds of the pour and he found his slightly dehydrated body only temporarily restored. “The fields are turning nicely.” He responded with a light shrug as he brought himself to sit at the small table a few feet from the oven. “And your day?”

She gave a slight pull away from him at the touch to her neck from his lips, but only because the sensation was a bit of a surprise and it brought slight goosebumps to form over her skin. There was a soft giggle that aided in showing that she wasn’t doing it maliciously. “It’s merely a piece of fabric, Eli’yon… though, I suppose I could have done without it and simply worn the apron,” Her response came almost as a musing for herself, something to remember in the future. “However, we have had some others coming and going today, I did not wish to flaunt myself before them without you here.” She turned around now to face him, listening as he continued on about his day a bit. “I’m glad to hear it, you’ve been putting many hours into it for it to fail. As for me? Quite uneventful -” Her words were clipped as she noticed the mud that had been tracked through over the floors.

With a determined pace, she moved to stand before him with hands upon her hips, a spatula sticking out from her grip. “Eli’yon Starfury! I spent most of my day tidying this pigsty up and you cannot find it in yourself to remove your boots before coating my floors in dirt?”

Eli’yon’s attention had drifted partially to a freshly baked loaf of bread on the table and he quickly took it into his grasp as he tore a rather large piece away. He placed the loaf back onto the piece of cloth that it rested on and he took a bite of the slightly warm bread. “You could have flaunted yourself before them,” Eli’yon admitted with a hushed chuckle as he swallowed the bread that remained within his mouth. “I am not opposed to showing others what is mine.” His voice was amused as his features mimicked the reaction of such as he smiled up at her as she approached him. Though when he had noticed her reasoning for doing such, he paused abruptly. His gaze dropped as he brought the tankard of mead to his lips once more in an effort to avoid the subject matter. “You do have a lady or two you can request to clean the floorss, Neya.” He responded somewhat swiftly. “It’s just simply some dirt.”

Her lips pursed and brows furrowed, an expression that often would oddly resemble her sister. “Yes, I am quite aware that it can be cleaned again by another, but the fact that I already spent my time doing it originally!” She was truthfully upset but it was not a serious discussion as her lips tugged into a grin and she founds herself chuckling. The spatula was placed to the table and her hands reached to undo the simple ties at her shoulders that would hold her dress in place, causing the fabric to fall from her form and simply remaining the apron. “But you do no not mind showing me off, hm? As yours, you say?” She asked, turning the conversation once more to turn the conversation to what it had been prior.

He indulged himself with another sip of the cool liquid as his pale eyes watched her intently. The falling of the fabric from her frame had caused his attention to watch its descent in an entertained manner as his eyes drank in what was visible of her frame on their way back up to find her face. “I do trust you to handle your own,” he replied to her as he placed the nearly empty tankard onto the wooden table. “Should some man find it within his being to do more than look, but I trust that those who come into this household would not.” His words were confident and his features held a similar look as he smiled up at her in a cheesy manner. “Not many so eager to find themselves in combat with one who has devoted their life to such things.”

“Of course, Eli, my loyalty is all yours,” Two fingers came to rest under his chin as she lowered herself down to place a soft kiss to his lips. “However… now that I have your attention, you’ve enjoyed some food and more to come, I believe it might be time for us to have a certain conversation that has been put off since our return. Before we become a bit… distracted…” Her gaze lowered to regard her mostly naked form as she stood straight once more and anxiously awaited his response.

Her initial words had caused him to smile somewhat but her continued voicing had caused that smile to disappear just as quickly as it had come. “You mean the conversation that your sister and her dog encouraged us to have?” He asked as his body slinked back into the chair somewhat. His hand moved upwards to indulge himself into his nervous tick as his fingers twisted the hair of his beard around them. His gaze was upwards and on her, waiting her confirmation despite knowing the answer to his question.

Eleney’a offered him a knowing look, her brows raised ever so slightly as she met his gaze. “Yes… that one,” She began before heading back to the oven. Her entire backside was now exposed as she had removed her dress, which she realized too late might have been a bit of a distraction and probably should have waited until the conversation had been completed. The food was removed from inside the oven and whatever pots or pans were on the stovetop were set aside. As she spoke, she went about preparing their plates. “You know, he is to be my brother-in-law and while he may seem a bit stuck on his high horse, I do not presume him to be such a bad man… and save for a few quips at you during our dinner, I could think of only one reason why you would be so against him…” Her words were a bit somber in nature, hinting at his remaining feelings for Elenaris but not speaking them loudly.

Her words had caused him to grumble beneath his breath in a quick and dismissive fashion as he pushed himself from the seat. Her current placement was more than enticing and more than inviting for him though he resisted his urges temporarily to grab the pitcher of mead and return to his seat with a loud thud sound of his body settling into the chair once more. “I do not still love your sister,” Eli’yon quipped loudly and in a forceful manner as he poured himself another tankard and ripped another serving of bread from the loaf. “How can you not sense that there is darkness within that man? Call upon your studies of the Light and feel something. He will bring nothing but despair and I believe you think that too.”

She stopped in her movements as he spoke, taking a moment for a steady breath and then she resumed her actions to pick up the plates and turn to place them upon the table. It was a simple meal, some meats and veggies with potatoes, but enough for them. “Do I sense a darkness? Yes, of course I do...but that darkness is also inside my sister as well and I think that perhaps the two of them together may do good things for her. At least keep her in line, keep her sane to some degree so that she does not fall further into the shadows. Who knows, I may be thinking too highly of Elenaris and her newly engaged but I know at least one thing is that while you may be disagreeing in their ways, she’s carrying my little nephew and if he brings nothing good but that one thing, I am grateful for that.” She went about picking at the food as she spoke, lifting her gaze to him ever so often to ensure he was listening. “And the way you acted at the dinner spoke tones of a different song… if your feelings were as deep as I imagine they were, it is okay for them to not completely to disappear.”

Eli’yon drew in a shaky breath and released it as Eleney’a brought him the plate of food and placed it down before him before moving to sit across from him at the tiny, wooden table. The food smelled delicious, as did it normally when she prepared it and his hand grasped the metal fork quickly to poke around at the contents of the plate. His opposite hand once more gripped the tankard and he took a healthy sip before placing the wooden mug onto the table. “Neya,” Eli’yon breathed as he placed the fork down so that a hand could move to hold the bridge of his nose. “You speak of my love for your sister but by the Light, I’ve no idea what you speak of. I had a military alliance with your sister and nothing more for as far as I can remember,” he admitted to her, his hand dropping away to reveal his pale hues to her and prove his honesty on the matter.

She had taken a few mere bites of the food but as he spoke, she completely stopped in all movement. “You..what?” She stuttered out, her lips falling apart slightly as she continued to try to comprehend what he was saying. “I’m sorry, what do you mean you do not remember anything more than that? Did you have an accident and did not tell me of it?” She stood and rounded the table to run her fingers through his hair in a manner of examining. “Did you bump your head?”

He seemed to become rather irritated when she rose from her chair and began to run her fingers through his hair in search of a possible wound. She wouldn’t find one however as he as there was no wound to be discovered, just slightly knotted hair from the flying he had done on his way home this evening. “This is not a joking matter,” he replied softly as he glanced upwards at the woman. His face appeared to be solemn and his eyes hinted at only being slightly panicked on the matter. His voice cleared, a possible defense mechanism to stop himself from becoming anymore emotional than he already was. “I can’t remember. Months of time? Gone as if it were nothing and at night? I’m plagued with these awful nightmares that not even the apothecaries can cure with their magics and their herbs.”

“I was not joking…” She said softly as her hands dropped from his hair and she began to look him over with just as much concern as she slowly bent at her knees to lower down before him. She sat on her calves as she gazed up to him. “Eli’yon, what has happened to you?”

He released a heavy sigh at her response as his line of sight followed her movements. Where she had gone, he had seemed to follow without actually moving. His hands dropped to lay in his lap and his eyes finally moved to shift to staring at his callused hands. He felt violated and unsure of himself. How could he actually know what was the truth and what wasn't when things were stripped so quickly and easily from him. “I've no idea,” he finally breathed. “All I know is that the man whom your sister calls her husband is responsible and I cannot even find it in myself to find a desire to fight him on it.”

The dainty and sweet features of Eleney’a’s face seemed to distort into more of angst fierceness. She quickly reached up to where his hands were in his lap and took hold of them with a stern grip. “I will figure this out, Eli’yon… surely Elenaris is unaware of what has transpired,” there was a steady inhale of a somewhat shaky breath. “Eli, I know you feel somewhat lost and that you’re unsure of what is and what isn’t real but… this is real,” her hands squeezed his even tighter,” I am real, okay? We will figure out what has done to you...if that is what you desire.”

The moment that her hands took his own, he managed to jump slightly. The feeling was comforting from heras Eleney’a had grown to be his primary source of support whether she had truly known that or not. “She’s not a fool,” he breathed quietly. “That much I am aware of.” The memories that had been left of Elenaris were just things that most citizens would know of her. Her status within the community, her wealth, her power and her ability to make an entire room bend to her will. The personal connection with her was gone, perhaps never meant to be returned. “I want someone to make him pay for what he has done to me. I want to be able to feel and know why I feel those things. Not to just feel things out of nowhere with no remembrance.”

“If you want your memories back, we will get them back, whether Elenaris knows or not. Whether she helps or not…” Eleney’a reassured him, her grip onto his hands was unwavering as she continued to speak, that was until she released with a single hand to reach up to cup his cheek softly. “Forget the prior conversation, we need not to kneel before their desires any longer, especially with this. We will live our lives the way we wish for as long as we wish. I was willing to have some sort of agreement or perhaps some sort of compromise but not now, they are not our rulers.”

He seemed slightly relieved at her change in decision but her unwavering support. Eli’yon knew the troubles of families with morals and mindsets that differed. His own family was a product of that. Mat’aes was the only Starfury that seemed to hold his father’s favor without interruption. Eli’yon and Aris were very rarely within that spotlight and he had almost preferred it. His marriage to Elenaris or even Eleney’a would have been giving his parents absolutely everything they wanted and regardless of his love for either sister, he was not so willing to indulge their wishes. “If we do not agree to their wishes, her dog has already made it clear that he will separate us,” Eli’yon finally spoke up as his chin leveled and his eyes bore into her own. “We’ve no choice than to submit or face unhappiness.”

She offered a heavy sigh as her hand fell from his cheek and both rested to his knees to aid her in standing. “Well, one way or another, a choice must be made. Unless you forsee looking for a different mate, I see little reason to fight the idea of us marrying, getting it out of the way and would no longer have to be concerned about any of it.” She pursed her lips as she gazed down to him now that she stood over him. “However, if it is truly something you do not wish, we will leave Quel’thalas and be rid of their heavy hands in another land.”

Eli’yon inhaled sharply as she pushed herself to stand once more and he followed suit to stand as well. The blonde man towered over her as his gaze softened and his neck craned so that he’d be able to gaze upon her. “Let us elope then,” he suggested as one of his brows rose momentarily. “Let us have a quiet ceremony in the woods with one witness and an officiant. Let us bring nothing special but ourselves and wear nothing fancy.” He explained to her, possibly in hopes that it was something she was agreeable to. If he were to marry it would be her in something quiet and private. “We need not tell Elenaris, her dog, or my father. It is none of their business.”

It was no playful surprise that Eleney’a offered in way of response to his suggestion. She took quite a long moment to respond and when she did her words were a bit soft. “Eli’yon… I don’t want you forced into anything simply because of the concern that they will attempt to control us further.” Her chin had lifted so that she could keep her gaze on him but her eyes flicked over his features briskly as her mind whirled with thoughts. “But if it is what you wish, I would be happy to join you.” She stated with somewhat of a blossoming pride. “ And together we will bring consequences for what has been done to you.”

[roseamongroses]

Antithesis: “we can be seventeen”

[Specific-Summary]: They should expect growing pains. For not everything to feel right or make sense. That doesn't mean it'll always hurt, nor does it mean they can't have fun along the way. It's senior year. Everything may be different. It won't be senior year for long. Everything will be okay.

[General Warnings]: Implied Emotional Abuse, Implied Physical Abuse, Bad Parents are Bad Parents, Mild Sexual Content/jokes,Mentioned Homophobia, Mentions of underage drinking (backround), Some Catcalling,Cursing , Self Hate,implied pregnancy talk/inability to become pregnant, adults arguing where the “kid” can hear it, adults drinking,

[Tags/mood:] highschool au,  fluff and angst but its all good, chat fic, teen stress, its flordia no snow we die like men [Pairing:] Roceit (Roman Sanders/ Deceit Sanders), hinted future/possible logince/roloceit/loceit [Characters]Roman Sanders/Deceit (Dmitri) Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Logan Sanders, Patton Sanders, Remy (Sleep) Sanders, Nate Sanders, Dragon Witch (Diana) Remus “The Duke” Sanders (minor/brief)

(Ao3) (Previously)

(8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15)

(16) (17) (18) (19)

“Listen, Listen, she killed Clarisse,” Roman insisted, papers sprawled around him as he sat up on the couch, “Even if it wasn’t like fuckin’ cold-blooded slaughter it has to at least be manslaughter.”

Logan groaned from his spot on the floor, legs crossed and math textbook in lap, “You’re looking too far into it, Mildred wasn’t even that important of a character, more like a minor nuisance than anything or an example of the status quo--plus what would that even add to the plot?”

At that Roman snorted, “Plot? Lo, it’s all about the imagery,” he waggled his fingers for emphasis, “But I swear to hell I’m right about this. Sure I haven’t read it in ages, but like-- like c’mon babe back me up on this,” he whined.

Dmitri didn’t look up from his laptop, “Never read it,” he mumbled, scanning the screen.

“The shit,” Roman groaned, “You’re in AP Lit, what the fuck Dee,”

“Just because I read doesn’t mean I read for school,” he said eyes still concentrated on the screen.

Roman rolled his eyes, before snapping his fingers, “ Okay, in the beginning right,” started, “It’s established that she has two personality traits, right? She doesn’t pay attention to shit and likes to run things over with her car,--” he said, “Then a couple of chapters later Clarisse just fuckin disappears? It’s like a gun being introduced the first act, the being pulled the second act it’s not a stretch.”

“She could’ve gotten caught by the government,” Logan offered, setting aside the textbook since it’s long past the time since they’ll get any work done, “Or her death/disappearance was simply for plot convenience.”

“Yeah but that’s boring,” Roman drawled, “Plus of course it would allude to be being a big bad government conspiracy or deep dark secret--- that always could be a red herring distracting from the simple facts of the situation. She hit Clarise with her car.” he stretched his legs.

Dmitri lifting his laptop briefly so Roman could plop his legs down into his lap, “Like why would a character who we are told doesn’t pay attention nor care suddenly know how Clarrise died unless she was the one to do it? Hell, I doubt Mildred would even know Clarisse was dead unless she was directly involved. Sure she would have forgotten to tell Montag as it says in canon but it could be how she deals with guilt--with everything. Avoidance-- forgetfulness--the whole shebang.”

Logan rolled his eyes, “Mhm, sure thing,” he said, flipping the textbook back open, “Now about your math test.”

“Noooo,” Roman flopped back, “Why can’t we just watch a movie? We’ve been at it for hours-- It’s the weekend-- Plus Dee hasn’t seen high school musical we cou--” He frowned, voice a bit softer, “Dmitri you okay there?”

Dmitri blinked, a bit startled, “You could say that” he said, “Just thinking, that’s all.”

Roman cocked his head a bit, exchanging looks with Logan, “Bout what?”

He sighed, “Nothing just my birthday—“

Romans lit up at that, “Oh yeah! Where do you wanna go for that? I know you’re stingy about me getting you stuff but still—”

“Am I supposed to drive myself to my birthday date?” Dmitri mused.

“No of course not,” Roman rolled his eyes, “Lo’s driving you so you guys can look at the stars and make out while playing chess or some shit. I’ll be rewatching Princess and the Frog in my jammies.”

At that Logan finally tuned into the conversation,” Excuse me wha-“

Dmitri cut him off, “As much as you’re fond of projection Roman -- The jokes on you I like that idea.”

“For clarification which part of Roman’s ide—“

“Of course you do you fucking nerds—“ Roman said, and Logan resigned himself to a life of internal screaming.

Dmitri didn’t look phased, smile sly, “Funny, you seem to always have a thing for nerds--”

Roman’s face fell, and he was now stammering. Once again it felt like something unspoken went right above Logan’s head.

“Okay,” Logan loudly injected, wincing at how high his voice was, “ Let’s—move on and do some calculus okay? Plus Roman can drive you himself there’s no reason to get me involved.”

At that Roman had stopped, not so subtly inching away while Dmitri paused, “Huh,” he said, glancing at Roman, before nodding, “When did you get your license?”

“Who said anything about a license,“ Roman deflected.

“When did he get his license?” Dmitri asked again to Logan.

“A month or so ago—you didn't tell him?” Logan asked Roman with a raised eyebrow,

“I like him driving me around,” Roman lied.

“I’d drive you regardless Roman,” Dmitri said, redirecting his attention to Logan, “ He didn’t tell me for the same reason he never lets me edit any of his writing homework or help him practice driving, to begin with—he still gets embarrassed around me.” Dmitri corrected, hand tracing Romans calf.

“I do no—,” Dmitri shot him a look and Roman huffed,” Okay so I do—but that’s only because you tease me about it and it’s distracting,”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Dmitri said like a liar, “But one time we were at a cafe and he got so flustered because someone offhandedly said we looked cute together but that same night without even hesitation he—“

Roman not too gently rolled the ground, bringing his papers and books crashing to the ground with him as he loudly exclaimed, “Oh we should get back to work, Lo— can’t be slacking can we!”

“But I kinda want to know—“

“Calculus,” he squeaked ignoring Dmitri all together, “Now.”

—

Roman rubbed his eyes, vision adjusted to the dim light of his living room. A few more seconds and he processed the stark glow of Dmitri’s laptop from the couch and the distinct, albeit much slower than usual typing.

Carefully, he shifted Logan from his chest onto the collection of pillows and blankets, slipping onto the couch beside Dmitri, “You still working…?” he said yawning, plopping his head onto Dmitri’s shoulder. His eyes decided to flutter close rather than try and fight the obscene brightness level of the laptop to snoop.

The typing paused, a hand wrapping around Roman’s waist, allowing him to further snuggle Dmitri’s chest, before the typing resumed, “I...ca...can't sleep.” Dmitri said, voice still hoarse.

“Still thinking’ ‘bout your birthday?” Roman asked.

“More or less,” he said, sounding much more irritated.

“Then tell me more,” Roman countered. He was too pleasantly tired to bother with changing the subject and all too aware that the nice circles Dmitri was rubbing under Roman’s shirt was more calculated then Dee was willing to let on.

“I...I don’t know It’s just…” he said, “I want to ta...but I can…” he sighed, “I can’t find the words.”

“We have time babe…”

“You have a shift in a couple of hours, you should sleep,” Dmitri said.

“Mmm, fuck retail,” Roman eloquently mumbled.

Only then did the typing stops. Sounds of the cicadas, the occasional siren or car passing by, and the slow breaths of Logan filled the room before Dmitri finally answered.

“Do...I make you uncomfortable?”

“I’d so hope not,” Roman snickered, “Seeing as you’re already trying to work off my shirt.” Upon not receiving an immediate response, he opened his eyes, blinking back his remaining sleepiness, “Wait—shit sorry were you serious?”

Dmitri avoided his gaze,” Forget I said anything—never mind,” he said voice dropping to barely a whisper.

“No-No-no,” Roman objected standing up, the sudden loudness of his voice causing Logan to shift groaning before settling again. Roman dropped his volume, “Dmitri are you serious right now? Why would you think that?”

“You didn’t answer the question.”

“I won’t until you answer mine,” Roman said hugging his arms. Dmitri glanced over him curiously, their eye bags much more evident despite the dim light. Combined with their bed head and ruffled too big attire—

“Stop fucking checking me out and just explain,” Roman snapped, and Dmitri’s focus cleared again.

“I’m not…” he finally processed the pinched expression on their face. They were tired.“ I do make you uncomfortable.” He said, easily letting dread wash over him, “I do don’t I...I always…”

At that Roman sighed, “No I know you didn’t mean it like that--” he saddled next to Dmitri, careful, “But you were drifting, I need you to try and focus okay? I can’t answer your question without knowing why. I don’t want to lie to you, but I don’t want you to use that as an excuse to be an ass to yourself. ”

Dmitri still looked doubtful and Roman waited for him to gather his words.

“I’m just like her,” he managed to say, “I complain and complain, but I act just like her,”

“Dmitri-”

“No, I do, “ he cut Roman off, tone divisive, “There’s a reason nobody likes me Roman---A reason Virgil fucking hates me, a reason why I don’t have any friends and probably shouldn’t--people call me a fucking snake.”

He slouched over, hair falling in waves to obscure most of his face, “I push and I prod and fuckin-dissect---for fun---because I can get away with it and I know it. Then I go and complain about how manipulative and toxic she is, like a fucking hypocrite. ” he paused for a moment, his face splitting into an unnerving grin, “Then I….Than I’m surprised when people start leaving.”

“I haven’t left,” Roman said.

“I’m terrible, you really should.”

“You’re not terrible,” Roman mumbled, a bit more firmly as he tucked himself back into Dmitri’s side.

“I make you uncomfortable.”

“Yes, a couple of times you did,” Roman relented, “But that doesn’t mean you’re terrible, it just means you’re a person and not my build-a boyfriend.”

“You never make me uncomfortable,” Dmitri said, shoulders relaxing despite himself as Roman pushed his hair back, “A real-life prince charming.”

“Liar,” Roman scoffed, “I know for a fact my dumbass frustrates you.”

“You’re not dumb,” Dmitri said, frowning.

“Yes, I a--” Roman inhaled stopping himself, “I can still frustrate you regardless, babe. Spending a lot of time with someone can do that sometimes. Does it mean you should ditch me and never look back? I sure hope fucking not.”

“I wouldn’t ditch you,” Dmitri grumbled.

“I know you wouldn’t,” Roman said soft, “So stop assuming I would.”

Silence filled the space comfortably again, Dmitri mulling this over.

“I’m still terrible,” he said.

“Dee,” Roman groaned, rolling up enough so he can take Dmitri's face between his hands, “God knows I can’t and won’t play therapist but can we agree to the fact that ---You. Are. Not. Your. Aunt,”

He smooshed Dmitri’s face eyes narrowed in a challenge,” You might have similarities to her, but that’s because you live with her, not because you are her. She’s made her decisions to be the way she is and you still can choose how you want to be.” Only then did Roman release Dmitri’s face with a dignified huff.

“I…”

“If the next word involves any form of calling yourself terrible I swear--”

“No no,” Dmitri assured, “ I wasn’t... It's just you sounded,” he looked away embarrassed, “A lot like Emile…I guess it caught me off guard.”

“Oh,” Roman said, “Is that a good thing?”

“Yeah...it is,” Dmitri said, “It’s just been a while…I miss him...a lot,” he admitted quieter and Roman looked up startled, but Dmitri quickly moved on, “Still…”

Roman frowned, vaguely compliant as Dmitri slowly drew him into their lap, “Still?” he asked, rubbing his eyes.

“You didn't mention what I did to make you uncomfortable,” Dmitri said.

“Dee,” Roman whined, “It’s st--”

“It’s not stupid,” he said, “You said it yourself, I can still choose how I want to be, I’m choosing now.” Roman still looked concerned, so Dmitri added on a bit softer, “Please? I want to know.”

---

@daflangstlairde

@ace-anx

@cataclysm-al

[jungkookienoona]

The Meme and His Tutor

Part 4: The Time Jungkook Broke His Keyboard

Recommended Song: Double Trouble by MAMAMOO

|All Chapters|

Summary:

A month had gone by and Jungkook’s English had improved.

Genre: Fluff, comedy

Pairing: Jungkook X Reader (Y/N)

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: 1706

Length: 4/?

It had been a month since the first lesson and Jungkook's English had somewhat improved with the weekly lessons that followed. It was still broken but his vocabulary had expanded. During their last lesson, Namjoon had suggested that the next session be cancelled due to BTS's busy schedule, which you agreed to. However, about an hour later Jungkook sent you a message asking fir the lesson to be rescheduled to later in the evening instead of being cancelled. You were unsure at first, not quite believing him when he said that despite Namjoon’s absence, due to the later time, he had agreed to let Jungkook call on his own. It didn't take much to persuade you; a few smiley face emojis and one heart one (which may or may not have caused you to hit your knee as you stood up in shock). So when the familiar alert rang through the room, you were prepared for an odd lesson without your translator. You accepted the call as per usual and was greeted sight of a smiley yet tired looking Jungkook waving at you a bit sheepishly. You returned his smile.

"Annyeong Jungkook" You watched him lean forward and type something.

Ding! The message read 'Can't talk. Hyungz zleeping. Don't want to wake them up'.

You found his concern for his hyungs endearing but were confused by his use of the letter 'z' instead of 's'.

"What's with the z?" You ask.

Jungkook suddenly whipped around, head darting from side to side.

"Shhh," He hissed, a finger to his lips.

You apologise quietly. He leant forward slightly, the angle alluding to his toned chest that peaked out of a loose fitting white t-shirt, and produced a pair of headphones. Once plugged in, he offered you a thumbs up and you laugh freely.

"Shouldn't you be in bed?"

He nodded silently and looked down as he types.

'Wanted to zee you.'

In that moment you felt like you could have died happy. But you noticed the use of the 'z' again.

"Jungkook-ah, have you gotten confused with the alphabet?"

He shook his head 'no' then sent his reply. 'Broke 's' button playing Overwatch'.

You couldn't help but laugh. Of course, it was something gaming related. He looked like he wanted to say something and quickly got out his phone, typing something. Once he had finished he sent you a message.

'Iz it okay to juzt talk inztead of teach? I'm very tired.'

You looked up from the message and catch him mid-yawn. He looked exhausted with droopy eyes and slumped shoulders.

"You should go to bed. We can talk tomorrow."

He frowned deeply, 'Tomorrow buzy. Plz Noona?'

Your lips quirk into a smile.

"Sure Kookie. Tell me about your day."

You saw him get out his phone again, holding it as he typed.

'We learned new choreography today. It waz very tired. Oh, I'm uzing online interpretation in that way'  

"New choreography?"

'For new album'

"That's cool!" You replied, smiling brightly hoping to pass some of your energy onto Jungkook. His lips quirked and an idea came into your head. "Can you show me?"

His eyes widened, glancing over his shoulder into the darkness.

When he turned back he was grinning. 'Ok. I'll zhow you hook'

He got up out of his seat. You watched as he danced though you could tell it was lacking energy. When he sat back down he sent you another message.

'You like?'

You smiled and nodded feeling a tad guilty for asking him to dance when he was already tired. He seemed to hesitate before sending another message.

'Noona can we be friendz?' He was looking down, twiddling his fingers as if he was nervous.

A small gasp escaped your lips. Jungkook wanted to be your friend? And...He was nervous. An easy smile found its way onto your features.

"Sure Kookie, we can be friends."

His head whipped up, headphones slipping from his ears to his neck. He grabbed them with one hand while typing with the other.

'Really?'

"In case you forgot, you are my bias. Why wouldn't I want to be your friend?"

He looked dumbfounded for a second before giving you his famous bunny grin.

'Now have cool, zmart Noona az friend and tutor'

You laughed and without thinking said, "And now I have my cute, daebak bias as my friend and tutor."

You didn't realise you'd called Jungkook cute until he typed back 'Cute?'.

You blushed scarlet, wondering how many times you were going to embarrass yourself by calling him cute to his face. You shyly nodded and could've sworn you saw his cheeks turn pink despite the dim lighting of his room.

'How waz Noona day?'

You smiled at the message, understanding that he was trying to change the topic to stop things from becoming awkward.

"My day still isn't over yet, it's only the afternoon. But so far I've slept in and gone to college."

He brought out his phone again, furiously typing for a moment. You waited patiently for him to translate and then type.

'Did you zleep well? Noona muzt rezt and ztay healthy!'

"I did." Your eyes went to the time in the corner of your screen and you couldn't help but feel guilty again. "You need to sleep too!"

He shook his head. 'I'm good. Howz college?'

You hesitated, one part of you wanted to convince him to go to bed while another more selfish part of you was thrilled that he wanted to spend more time talking to you. Evidently that side one.

"It was good. The teacher is useless so I tend to do my own thing in lessons".

He looked a little confused for a second before asking you to send your answer as a message. You saw him typing on his phone again, translating what you had said.

'No! Bad teacher! Noona go and complain!'

You sighed, thinking back to your class and pathetic excuse for a teacher.

"I can't, Kook. And it doesn't matter, I'm leaving college soon."

He raised an eyebrow. 'Zoon?'  

"I finish college in set wol (3 months). But there is a short holiday coming up"

That seemed to have peaked his interest. You were pretty sure that if he was a dog you would have seen his ears perk up.

'Holiday? When?'

"In about saju (3 weeks) time"

'For how long?'

"Iju (2 weeks)"

Once again he was tapping away at his phone before smiling. 'Noona come visit'.

You were shocked to say the least "I can't afford it Kookie".

His face fell, 'Want to zee Nonna~'

You smiled sadly, "And I want to see Kookie."

He looked at his phone for a second, lips twisting as he thought something over. When you read his next message you had to stop yourself from falling out of your chair.

'I pay for you.'

"Ani-Ani-Aniya. I don't want you spending your hard earned money on me."

'Then when zee Noona?'

"Sanyeon (3 years). When I finish uni."

You saw his eyes blow wide in shock before he sent his next message.

'ZANYEON?! JINJJA?!'

He seemed to take a moment to think before a mischievous grin appeared on his face.

"What are you planning?"

'Nothing'

"Kookie"

'Not zaying'

Was he laughing?

You opened your mouth to respond when light flooded your screen. You looked to Jungkook in confusion who was hastily pulling off his headphones, holding them securely around his neck, and staring at something off to the side.

"What is it?" You said causing him to look back at you.

The newfound light allowed you to see his cheeks burning pink. Did he just get caught? Jin walking into view confirmed that he did indeed get caught. Jin said something that made Jungkook look back at him, scowling. From their hand gestures and head movements, you could tell they had started bickering with each other. But soon Jungkook look defeated and unplugged his headphones.

He must have turned his microphone back as he said "Mianhae Noona".

There was a pause.

"Ah, You Y/n?"

"Ye, Annyeonghaseyo Jin-oppa."

He crouched beside Jungkook, holding onto the desk chair as he squinted at the camera.

"Oh, you teach Jungkookie?"

You resist the urge to smile at his broken English. "Ye, mianhaeyo."

He turned to Jungkook, talking quickly and quietly with the occasional nod to you. You wondered what they were talking about, only being able to understand your own name because they were talking so fast. You grew more curious when Jin said something that caused Jungkook to frown and suddenly pinch Jin's nipple through his t-shirt.

"Yah! Naneun neoui hyung! No pinchy!"

You burst out laughing; their heads swivelling round to look at you. You desperately tried to muffle your giggles in your sleeve but it was no use and before you knew it Jungkook was laughing too. While the two of you chuckled like children, Jin was looking back and forth between you with an open mouth.

"Aish, you children!"

Jungkook clutched Jin's shoulder when more giggles wracked his body. Jin looked at him disapprovingly at Jungkook before turning his attention back to you.

"Sorry Y/n. Jungkook need sleep now. Very busy this week."

"Hyung" Jungkook complained, drawing out the one syllable word with a pout.

"It's okay, I understand it's late over there"

He looked helplessly at Jin who ruffled his hair and stood up.

"Bed."

You heard the door shut and as if proving Jin's point Jungkook let out a long yawn.

"Kookie, go to bed."

He nodded and pat down his dishevelled hair.

"Goodnight Noona. Have good day."

"Goodnight Kookie."

"Oooh wait, wait. Wanna say different."

"You want to say something different?"

He smiled then nodded. "Goodnight Y/n-chingu (Y/N friend)"

"Yah! We're not the same age! You can't call me chingu"

His nose scrunched in amusement and you had to hold back the squeal that wanted to escape.

"Goodnight y/n-chingu~" He sang, waving at you before cutting the call.

You checked the time and wondered how it had gone by so fast. As you packed away your untouched notebook you started to sing quietly to yourself and knew that today was going to be a good day.

AN: The Meme and His Tutor will now be updated every Wednesday! Yay a schedule! 

Story co-written with @tragicshadows