#they’re spinning around in my head like food in a microwave

[zootopiathingz]

Literally every single flavor of charlastor is perfect. Alternate canon where they have a romantic arc of Charlie bringing out a soft side to Alastor while he makes her stronger and more confident in herself? Perfect. Alastor being completely utterly obsessed with her even though his feelings are unrequited and Charlie only sees him as a friend at most? Perfect. Human 1920s AU? Perfect. Alastor is his creepy, vile, menacing self but around Charlie he’s an absolute sweetheart who does anything for her bc she’s the only exception? Perfect. Demon Alastor hunting for prey x unsuspecting human Charlie? Perfect. Vise versa, demon succubus Charlie x human Alastor who summons her to cause chaos and instead he falls in love with her? Perfect.

[horrorknife]

hi ! sorry if this sounds weird but like

i stumbled upon one of your hoffheight posts and I'm so. genuinely fascinated ?? like, i THINK i understand it (I've certainly put them in a microwave and stared at them for the past few days) but i want to "get it right", if that makes ANY amount of sense. I want to interpret them correctly, I think is a better way to phrase it (it's 2am nothing I say will make more sense and I apologize for that.)

I think in a post you mentioned them being like, reflections of each other or something, which, I didn't realize but shit yeah?? they are aren't they. something about being on hair triggers or whatever. GOD they fascinate me so much I need you to understand how much this dynamic intrigues me. having them both be unstable in their own rights (esp with anger issues and all) it just. I love that ?? it's so fun!! I keep spinning them in my mind !!!

I think you also mentioned them being some flavor of qpr and as someone who's aromantic I. god qpr's my beloved. I really need them to be an evil qpr. that means a lot 2 me. ESPECIALLY if it's not even mentioned, but it definitely is a qpr. in my head Adam would have the potential (still not likely) to know what a qpr is, but he would never label it as that. at least not verbally. I love when there's a silent agreement that two people are definitely not romantic but labelling something as platonic is insincere. they're a secret third option don't worry about it !!!

sorry for dumping this into your inbox, I have a lot of thoughts and assumed it'd be mildly funny if I just left them with you. do with that what you will. I hope you have a nice day and thank you for the food for thought

[bonus ask that's ACTUALLY an ask and not just the ramblings of a mad man, do you have any fic recommendations of the two? for research, of course]

HI!!!! oh my fucking god anon you have no idea how excited and happy this makes me . *little cat running around in circles moment* 

so like. i imagine there’s this cord between them and neither of them understand it. they can both just Smell the sameness on each other, the familiarity of deepset rage and suffering and loneliness. adam’s young and impressionable and hoffman would be able to use him to his advantage. hoffman would love this guy. my characterization of adam post bathroom is lonely, detached, and even angrier than before so he gets into fights for the self destructive nature of the thing and hoffman would LOVE how unhinged he is (we all saw how much hoffman seemed to admire/get obsessed w strahm and that guy is Nuts). they’re the same kind of prey animal! they have the same fear of abandonment!!

something something the way they both die in the same spot, attached to the same pipe, forced to watch as LAWRENCE (OF ALL PEOPLE!!!!) abandons them for dead. adam is desperate for life adam is in a game rigged against him. hoffman fights and fights and gnashes and thrashes against this the entire series and yet he ultimately has no choice but to succumb to it, he dies the same horrific way adam did, alone and abandoned and feeling that same primal prey animal fear. there's something to both of them being lawrence's only (CANONICAL) victims (brad, ryan, and dina are lawrence's vics to me. but that's a different post) there's something to the way that adam dies in the first film and haunts the narrative forever and the person who reprises that role is HOFFMAN of all people. the way that this comes full circle is really really delicious to me

adam's camera is his buffer from the real world, it's how he processes things, he's at his best when he's unnoticed and free to Watch. guys we're not doing enough with the voyeur thing. guys. adam catalogs information adam loves holding secret knowledge. in a similar way, hoffman is holding a knife between himself and the real world, he's processing everything through a layer of violence before all else because he can't risk human connection anymore. all of his relationships are made through violence and this is of course present here as well because you adam's deepest connections are also facilitated through violence. you can argue that this is true of all saw characters and you'd be right but there's something so specially flavored about it when you look at hoffman and adam next to each other.

hoffman needs Direction From Someone Else in order to be an effective cog in the jigsaw machine–after john dies he just falls apart immediately and gets clumsy and makes stupid mistakes bc at the end of it all hoffman has been robbed of a Normal existence and the thing he really wants most is companionship (again, seen in the way he interacts w rigg and strahm–he communicates his ‘affection’ in adversarial ways to keep them hooked + offers them genuine chances at survival but they’re both too clouded and Against Him for it to work. king of misjudging situations) and direction. i think if he even had a LITTLE help he’d be a lot better at being jigsaw

conversely, adam is this poor, broke 25 year old clinking pennies together in his shithole apartment. and he has the same stripping of purpose hoffman does. he doesn’t communicate with his family anymore (for undisclosed reasons but this is one of my personal pinpoints for bi/transmasc adam), effectively abandoned by them, and we know that his one namedropped friend (his “BEST” friend btw) is a piece of shit TO him and ABOUT him. adam gets walked all over and he lives at the universe’s disposal to kick the shit out of. he’s been abandoned or mistreated by everyone significant in his life. hoffman is a well off and well respected cop with a whole department of people who highly respect him but he’s empty inside bc he’s incapable of having any meaningful relationships the moment he gets involved with john. he has to fully wall himself off again because it’s too risky to get close to other people. imagine your only worldly thread of understanding from another person ends up being the serial killer you’re chasing/impersonating. and he hates you.

adam’s a genuinely understanding and kind person under his defensiveness, we all know this, we’ve all seen saw 2004. he’d be kind to hoffman and hoffman would see stars. he forgot people were capable of treating him like a normal person. having hoffman warm up to you is the equivalent of having a crochety old man who hates everyone share apple slices with you. you’re a little nervous about it, you’re a little on edge, but he’s just cutting out his apple slices and handing you one every so often. a test of trust. maybe you’re uncomfortable but you’ll take his offering to be polite. you’ll enjoy his company, you’ll share that apple with him, you’ll forge a new bond with that person. this is the type of companionship im kind of getting at. 

um but yeah . rambling aside. back on track. unspoken/unaware qpr hoffheight is THE THING to me. yes we love each other yes we’d kill for each other no we’re not in love. we have a secret third thing and it’s called I Have To Keep This Guy Safe Right Fucking Now Because He Matters To Me More Than I Can Understand. OH mid paragraph im remembering something important. this absolutely all takes place within a sphere of hoffman and adam’s relationship starting with hoffman making adam his apprentice. i feel like that might have been obvious up there ^ but i want to be very clear w my intentions and my vision. KJDFSJKDF. ALSO oh my god . fuckkkkk fuck  fuck fml i think hoffman thinks 2 himself that angelina would probably have liked adam and that definitely endears him to the guy. 

like you said yeah i think adam has the Potential to know what a qpr is (but i dont think he does know)!! if anything he would ultimately just recognize it as an inherently special and inherently queer relationship…auuuu………i know i didnt get too into the evil parts of them too much here but thats cuz it would make me end up writing a 6k essay on them or something. just know that they do butt heads a lot because at the end of the day theyre from completely different universes and adam is an ODD/BPD king.

god . i could really just go on and on and on and on about them. i have so much more to say LOL but this is already a bit of a wordy response >__< i just have such a clear vision of their vibe and dynamic in my mind. it comes to me like sherlock visions. i’m being pelted with big times new roman font things that say shit like “HOFFHEIGHT GAY SEX” “They Are Everything To Each Other In A Codependent Ass Way” 

THANK YOU FOR THIS ASK BY THE WAY I UM. GOT SO FUCKING EXCITEDD WHEN I READ IT AKJDNJAKLDNVSJKFNFDKGNVDFK. YOU DONT KNOW WHAT THESE TWO ARE TO ME . YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW SICK AND FUCKED UP I AM OVER THEM LOLLLLL. asks that made me get up out of bed at 6:30 in the morning because i was too excited and woke up fully 

if u have more questions or u wanna rap abt this more PLEAAAAASE feel free 2 send more asks or reach out via messages i love discussing my evil plots with them. i am literally ALWAYS locked and loaded and ready to talk about hoffheight. anon i unfortunately do not have fic recs because i do not like reading fanfiction. im incredibly particular about characterization and i’m a little bit of a writing snob. i don’t trust them in anyone else’s hands for fic if i’m being honest. i don’t think anyone else’s vision will fully align with mine and i’m too autistic to risk seeing that be done wrong. i’ll get too emotional KJDNKJSNFJ

[derpy-dogs-n-cats]

Creep.

Main Masterlist

JJK Masterlist

Yandere! Satoru Gojo x GN! Reader.

Warnings: Implied yandere themes at the end, implied non-con threat, light physical abuse.

Summary: After leaving work early in the morning with an empty stomach, you stop at a gas station for a quick meal but instead get more than you bargained for.

W/C: 1.3k+

You continue to walk through the dark empty streets of the night with a pain in your stomach, reminding you of how your lunch had gone bad, leaving you unable to eat. You could’ve walked to the nearest place where you could buy the closest thing to food, but it would’ve taken over half of your lunch break just to get to the food, not to mention having to wait for it, it would’ve been too late by then and unfortunately, your boss was in a bad mood already- well, they always were.

Putting your faith in the large meal you had before work to pull you through the rest of the day proved to be a wrong choice. You quicken your pace to reach sooner the gas station you’ve come across many times, already feeling relieved as soon as it comes into sight in the distance. After what feels like an eternity, you finally reach the doors, pushing one open for you to pass. ���Good morning.” You nonchalantly greet the cashier who gawks at you as soon as your back is to them.

You easily find your way to the ‘quick meals’ section, pick something out and ready it for the microwave. While your food spins in the small space, you take your time to wander through the isles on the left, quickly regretting it due to your growing hunger urging you to buy everything that catches your eye. As you take your last turn, you realize you're alone with the cashier, nothing really coming to your mind until you walk back to the microwave, noticing the disgusting stare they give you.

You stand in a proper position to keep them in your peripherals while staring at the numbers, wishing they would go by faster. Your pleads fall on deaf ears, noticing that even worst, the cashier leaves their spot and approaches you. “What are you doing here so early in the morning?” Their voice asks. “Nothing.” Your tone gives a clear sign of being uninterested, hoping that they’ll get the hint and leave.

You manage to block out the noise of their voice, feeling worry clouding your mind when you notice how close they’re standing to you. You visibly take a step further from them, once again hoping that they’ll leave you, but they seem to have no problem carrying the one-sided conversation while following your migrating form. Their hand falls on your shoulder for you to push it off only for it to find its way to your lower back instead, now having to shove it away.

“Do not touch me.” You look up at the larger figure. “Oh come on, clearly, I’m-” Their threat gets interrupted with the door opening behind the two of you. You look at the taller man and take notice of his dark purple clothes, nearly black with pure white hair and even more noticeable, the black blindfold covering his eyes. Despite his eyes being covered, he seems to have no problem walking through the isles and grabbing a few things in his free hand, the other one holding a duffle bag.

“Listen,” The cashier continues the conversation in a hushed voice as soon as the other man is out of sight, squeezing your shoulder painfully. “I’m clearly the bigger one here, so play nice and stick around until this asshole leaves.” They release your shoulder as the microwave dings. You lower your head and glance behind you, seeing a peek of the white hair over the isles. You sprint as quick as you can to the other man with the cashier after you, slowing your rushed pace once you take a turn with the tall man in your sight.

“Oh my god! It’s been so long I wasn’t sure it was you! How have you been?” You try your best to sound convincing and pick up a conversation with the stranger who moves to stand straight to face you, his glance to the cashier behind you being blocked by his blindfold. “… Now I remember you!” He plasters a more than convincing smile on his face as opposed to the neutral expression he had.

“It’s been so long! No wonder you looked familiar!” He gushes with an upbeat attitude while you thank the stars for the man following the lead. “What are you doing here?” You ask with a smile. “Just a quick stop before I head home, I had a long work trip.” He responds while the cashier leaves with an angry expression. “You want me to walk you home?” He gives you a warm smile while you briefly eye his bag, wondering if he really was on a work trip.

“Yeah.” You answer, your facade falling for a split second, still not feeling comfortable with the man but he seemed like a better option, at least on the surface. “How have you been? What are you doing here so early in the morning?” He continues to the conversation, waving a hand over as he passes you, signaling you to follow behind him. “My lunch went bad at work, I didn’t think I’d make it home.” You explain, eyeing his odd form.

You acknowledge his height even more when he’s forced to crouch down to pick up something on the lower shelves. “Oh man, that must’ve sucked.” He tries to console while you eye the way he spreads his legs unnecessarily far apart, making you wonder if it’s a habit. “It’s okay, I’m here now.” You say, taking a few seconds to come up with something else to continue to conversation. “So, why were you on a work trip?” You ask as he stands.

“Oh, you know how the higher ups get on me, it seems I can’t catch a break.” He walks you to the microwave. “I’m just glad I’m seeing my kids again.” He adds after pointing at the microwave, reminding you of your food. “You have kids?” You ask as you take your food out. “I might as well, they’re my students.” He walks with you to the register. You continue to question his answers in your head, gathering that he’s some sort of teacher, now wondering what kind of a teacher goes to work trips?

Maybe he was actually finding it hard to keep up with a facade. “I’ve got three of them, they’ve really been improving.” He sets his items on the counter. “What about you? You got any kids?” He asks. “No, I’m too busy with work anyway.” You see him pay for his items. “When was the last time you took a break?” He comments while you pay for your food. “It’s been a while.” You admit, following him to the exit and giving him a small ‘thank you’ when he opens the door for you, exiting behind you.

“… So, do you mind me asking what you were doing out at two in the morning?” He continues, trying to comfort you with a smile. “… My food went bad at work.” You repeat. “You weren’t lying then, well, neither was I, I just got back from a work trip.” He says, giving you a feeling that he appreciates your honesty. “A work trip as a teacher?” You question after taking a large bite from your food.

“Yeah, it’s a little weird. I didn’t want to wait until tomorrow to come back, one of my students might as well be my actual kid, I wanted to see him again.” He explains, easing a little your worry. “Now, are you sure you want me to walk you home, or do you want to take it from here?” He asks. “It’s okay, I can take it from here, I don’t want to keep you from your kid. Thank you so much.” You thank. “Are you sure? My kid’s safe at home, but you’re quite exposed out here.” He insists.

“If it’s not too much of a bother,” “Not at all! I’d feel better knowing you’re at home and safe as well.” He assures. “Thank you so much.” You bow. “There’s no need for that.” He follows your lead in the direction you’re walking. “Just please consider changing your shift, I’d hate for you to deal with more people like them.” He suggests to which you agree with a smile, unknowingly creating another creep.

[h0neypjm]

Confident 02 | jjk

↳ Summary: After giving Jungkook the best suck of his life he’s left wondering if what you said was true. Was it really your first time? ‘Cause Jungkook thinks you might’ve lied.

↳ Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

↳ Genre: Smut, fluff, angst, college au, fuckboy! jk, our fav cheeky virgin reader!

↳ Rating: 18+

↳ Word count: 8.8k

↳ Warnings: swearing, mentions of past toxic relationship, mentions of being pressured into sex, mentions of body image, mentions of stds, Jungkook being very confused, no smut in this part

↳ a/n: here it is !!! thank you for all the love for the first part, i hope you enjoy this part ! please feel free to leave any feedback <3 

↳ Series: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04

Previously...

“She said it's her first time.” He pauses, looking up at his friends' concerned faces. “I think she might’ve lied.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

Jungkook groans, cradling his head before banging it on the table. The utensils on the table rattle and clang, bringing unwanted attention to his mini breakdown. Taehyung is quick to place his hand under Jungkook's forehead just as he goes in for another blow. “Ok, Jungkook- Jungkook!” Jimin giggles beside him. “Fucking stop, people are staring.”

Jungkook pauses and subtly peeks out of his long bangs, checking to see that Taehyung’s words were indeed true. He breathes out and sits up in his chair, fixing his shirt to play off that he wasn’t just having a mental meltdown.

Jimin rolls his eyes, “soooo are you gonna talk now, cause’ I have a horrible headache and you’re really not helping.”

Jungkook nods opening his mouth to speak. “Alright so uh, I met a girl last night and-”

“I thought you went home?” Taehyung shoves Jimin’s shoulder and Jungkook glares, “yeah, well that clearly didn’t happen.” He rubs his temples, “could you do me a favour and let me speak first, and then you can ask the questions. Ok?”

The two boys nod, settling into their seats as Jungkook delves back into his story.

“Alright so anyways, I saw this girl and like, I haven’t ever seen her before? She was literally perfect”. He exhales looking at nothing at particular as he continues. “Gorgeous face, prettiest lips and oh! speaking of her lips, God the way she sucked-”

Despite what Jungkook said earlier, Taehyung feels the need to intervene. “Ok as much as I love a good suck myself, I need you to stop here, we don’t need the graphics.” Jimin nods in agreement even though it’s clear he’s not paying an ounce of attention. Jungkook smirks at the memory, but it soon drops as he remembers one tiny detail. He places his hands on the table, total seriousness etched onto his face. “But here’s the kicker, she said it was her first time.”

Confusion. 

“So did you or did you not take her virginity?”Jungkook crosses his arms. “No, after that she just up and left.” “Wait, fuck”, Jungkook suddenly realises, “I didn’t even make her cum”, he groans and Taehyung bursts into laughter. This finally garners Jimin’s attention, his dazed eyes squinting. “Who’s the girl?” Jungkook sighs, “if you were listening before you would’ve heard me say that I don’t know her.” Jimin leans forward,“well can you at least describe her? I pretty much know everyone who attended the party”

Jungkook doesn’t have to think that hard. “She was wearing this plaid skirt and like a white top-” Jimin’s eyes widen, “Holy shit, Y/N?! Man, Jin’s gonna kill you.” This makes Jungkook pause, thoughts running back to the text he had received from Jin. “Wait, they’re not a thing are they?” Jimin chokes, “God no, they’ve been family friends since like forever, Jin’s practically her protective older brother.”

That explained his text earlier. Jungkook furrows his brows, more questions beginning to arise and spill out of his mouth. “How come I’ve never met her and if she’s a virgin, then how- how did-”, Taehyung cuts in, “dude she’s done other things before.” More confusion. “And how would you know that?” Taehyung smirks, shrugging as he gets up out of his chair. “I'm gonna get a drink, Jimin, you want anything?” God, his head is spinning. “Sure, you know my usual.”

It was the way Taehyung spoke too casually, like your lifestyle choices were common knowledge. How the fuck hasn’t he met you, yet his friends seem to be well acquainted with your existence? “What the fuck was that look?” He focuses on Taehyung from where he orders his drinks. “Did you see it Jimin? Kinda sus.”

Jimin remains nonchalant, blowing a strand of hair out of his sight before answering one of Jungkook’s urgent queries. “Jin never introduced you to her because well…” He looks Jungkook up and down with an unimpressed look. “You would get your grimy hands on her immediately. And Then after that, It’s like she never existed ” Jungkook opens his mouth, rebuttal on the tip of his tongue. “Don’t argue with me boy, the second you met her, you already wanted her on your dick, did you not?”

Jungkook is shocked to say the least, jaw hanging open as Taehyung makes his way back to the table, drinks in hand. “Oh God, what did you tell him?” Jungkook slams his fist on the table, yet again grabbing the attention of people around them. “That is not true! I have standards, and what about you two. You guys are just as bad.” He points accusingly at the bruises peeking out of Taehyung’s loose shirt, “Look at Tae! Those hickies are probably a combination of the three girls he fucked last week!”

Jimin doesn’t want to get kicked out of the cafe, so he attempts to calm down a soon to be raging Jungkook. “Look, to put it nicely, you’re a heartbreaker, you lead girls on whereas Tae and I actually tell people we’re not interested in anything more than a hookup.”

Jungkook seems to understand where he’s coming from. He can admit, he does have quite the reputation if the amount of times he’s been slapped in the face says anything. But now, with this newfound information, he can also admit that you’ve certainly intrigued him, that was for sure.

Jungkook wants to see you again.

Not for a rump in the sheets, but rather a friendly conversation. 

It was just his luck that he had heard through the grapevine that you had been invited to one of Jin’s small pool party get togethers. If Jungkook was being honest, he’s quite excited to be within your vicinity again but he knows he needs to keep his cool. Especially after the series of death threats and slaps on the neck from Jin. He shudders at the memory.

And so, Jungkook prepares himself more than he usually does. He wants to do it right this time. No flirty teasing, just friendly innocent conversation. He makes sure to carefully pick out the right swim shorts that display the thickness of his thighs. Not for any sexual gain, more so to show off the hours spent at the gym in hopes that maybe he can get you to become more interested in him as he is to you. He sounds desperate, and he’s sure you’re not that materialistic, but he has this nagging want to impress you somehow. He huffs and does a few pushups, for extra measure of course.

He’s not sure as to why his brain decided to make him act this way. You’re more or less a stranger to him. However, when Jungkook begins his short journey to Jin’s house he really lets himself think, which usually isn't a good idea. 

Jungkook doesn’t know you, but you’ve definitely left an imprint in his mind which makes you all the more fascinating. It’s news to him that you seem to be very close to his small circle of friends which is probably thanks to your deeply rooted friendship with Jin. That new piece of information had been bugging him since the day he met up with Taehyung and Jimin. Surely his reputation couldn’t be the only reason why you’ve never met him. Right?

Parking his car in Jin’s enormous driveway, he makes his way up to the grand front door. Sometimes he wishes he could live a life like Jin. He grew up being fed with a silver spoon his whole life. Having everything paid for instead of rolling in the miseries of college student debt.

Once Jungkook makes his way into the large house, he sets down the drinks he had brought onto the kitchen counter and watches his best friends goof around and enjoy the summer sun with a warm grin. He chuckles quietly when Jin pushes Jimin and his perfectly styled hair into the pool. Jimin screams a slur of curses while Jin quickly runs beside a sleeping Yoongi for protection.

Slipping out of his loose oversized shirt, Jungkook scans the entirety of Jin’s backyard, looking for the face that has been haunting him since that fateful night. She’s not here. He reexamines the pool seeing nothing but the chaotic mess of his favourite people, and he sighs. Just as he prepares to step out into the blazing sun, the sound of his stomach growling stops him in his tracks. 

Thinking about you made him nervous. So nervous that his stomach couldn’t bear the thought of breakfast. However, after the realisation that you hadn’t arrived just yet, makes him do a full one eighty, long strides taking him to Jin’s expensive fridge.

His head is already deep into the fridge when he hears the sound of the sliding door opening, revealing a dripping Jin with a small scowl on his face. It seems Jimin finally got his revenge. “I’m starving you got any leftovers?” Jungkook queries, his head popping out from the cool air of the fridge.

Jin grabs a fresh towel and whacks it against Jungkook’s naked back. “What’s the point of even asking when you’re already going through my damn fridge!” Jungkook flashes Jin an innocent grin and glows when he discovers a small bowl of Chinese takeout. 

It very quickly dawns on Jungkook that in order to enjoy a nice warm meal, he would need to heat it up. His stomach all but roars, not used to the lack of food in its system and Jungkook wants to cry. He wants to cry and it's not from the angry hunger pains, but rather something extremely laughable. He has to use a fucking microwave. 

You’re running late, there’s sweat running down your brow and you feel like your arms will fall off any second. The weight of snacks and alcohol you had brought making you stagger as you finally enter Jin’s enormous home.

The one and only thing that’s on your mind is the refreshing feeling of slipping into Jin’s pool while sipping on an iced beverage. This motivates you enough to put all the strength left in your exhausted being to speedily walk into the kitchen and throw everything onto the counter. 

“AHH FUCK!” You flinch at the sudden scream, hugging your body protectively. Jungkook slowly pops out from behind the other side of the counter, his doe eyes big and wide. “You fucking scared me Jesus!” He exclaims, running a hand through sweaty bangs.

The air had escaped your lungs long before you could utter your next sentence as the sight before you has you freezing. There he was, Jeon Jungkook in all his glory. Tanned skin and taut muscle sculpted by the Gods. You didn’t mean to stare, but how could you not! Your eyes had a mind of their own. He’s glorious, every single part of him, and you’re not even afraid to admit it. Your eyes are quick to eat him up, tracing the art staining the whole of his right arm and you wonder what every swirl of ink means to him.

Jungkook coughs awkwardly, going in to scratch at his neck. You imagined he would tease you about your obvious ogling, but it never came. Strange. “Why were you hiding?” You ask, dropping your gaze from his body in order to arrange the snacks into neat piles, using it as an excuse to slowly step closer to him. “Oh! Uh-”, he scratches his head, looking down at his feet before jumping five feet into the air, a startled gasp leaving his lips when the timer of the microwave goes off. 

You burst into laughter and Jungkook flushes in embarrassment. Jin had told you about Jungkook’s embarrassing fear of microwaves but you never thought you would see it first hand. You hold in the laughs that tickle your throat and try to settle him down by lightly touching his shoulder. He flinches at your touch.

“Are you okay?” You’re really close to him now. Your chest is practically pressed up against his and Jungkook gulps. How was it possible that you could look even more stunning than the last time he saw you? Your cheeks are glowing from the soft golden rays of the afternoon sun and the way you look up at him, your soft smile curling makes his head spin.

“Yeah, I’m good”, he breaks eye contact in embarrassment. “Sorry, just uh, microwaves are scary you know?” You giggle up at him. Is this really Jungkook? The Jungkook you’ve seen flaunting a new girl every week just to abruptly break her heart when he can’t promise anything more than sex? 

You’re not complaining, he’s quite adorable like this.

You’re not too sure why his personality has the sudden switch up. It could possibly be the fact that he’s with his closest friends and doesn’t feel the need to put up his playboy persona. Although, the way he blushes when he looks at you plays a different story. Do you make him nervous? Surely not, if the memories of that heated night are anything to go by.

“So uh, are you gonna head into the pool?” His empty stomach is long forgotten as he gestures to the large backyard, you nod up at him excitedly. It’s then Jin decides to bust back into the kitchen, a stern gaze set on his face. “Y/N, can I speak with you for a minute?” Jungkook cautiously takes a step away from you, your bodies no longer close to each other and you notice this with a small frown.

“Yeah, sure”, you relent walking over to Jin who places a protective arm around your shoulders. Unknowingly to you, Jin traps Jungkook down with a hard stare and signals Jungkook to go outside, to which he accepts with a nod.

“I know what you’re gonna say, and no I do not see him like that”, you cross your arms defensively. Jin sighs, “I just don’t wanna see you get hurt again.” He places his hands on your shoulders, full lecture mode on. “Let’s face it, you’re a hopeless romantic, I can’t trust that you won’t do something stupid, but you and Jungkook… You’re both important friends of mine and-” 

You’ve heard his overprotective brotherly speech plenty of times, “I know, and I’m so thankful that you’re looking out for me. I just don’t see the harm in befriending him, you’ve never let me speak to him before.” Jin releases his hold on your shoulders to fix the mess of his wet hair, “and there's a reason for that.”

Why was he so damn hard-headed. Jin loves Jungkook like he loves his family. It just didn't make any sense to you that Jin could approve of their friendship but when it comes to you, he completely shields you away from any interactions with the so called playboy. 

“When are you going to stop protecting me from boys?” Jin senses your frustration immediately. “I may be younger than you, but I’m also an adult just like you. An adult that can make her own choices.” You exhale slowly, “You’ve let me befriend your whole group and they’ve been nothing but wonderful to me, I don’t see the wrong in getting to know Jungkook.” 

Jin lets his guard down. You do have a point, maybe he was being a little too overprotective. He gives you a soft smile, you look away. 

“You’re right, I am in no position to dictate your decisions and who you choose to hang around with, it was wrong of me to treat you like that. Jin looks out into the pool, watching Jungkook tackle Taehyung. “I’m sorry I was a bit too harsh, Jungkook’s a good kid, he just got into the wrong crowd at first. Although, you gotta promise to tell me if he hurts you, cause he knows I’ll beat his ass.” 

You laugh accepting his apology, “are you sure about that? He’s a literal muscle pig.” You both begin to make your way outside and Jin shoves you slightly, “hey! You know I’m right.” Jin shakes his head and brings you into a comforting hug. “Yeah, yeah whatever.” He rolls his eyes, you beam up at him and together you walk out into the warm sunlight.

It hadn’t even been a second since you stepped outside, and already Yoongi’s long term girlfriend, Jieun is squealing your way. “Y/N! I’m so happy you're finally here, the amount of testosterone out here was starting to make me feel faint.” You giggle at her exasperated tone, pulling her into a tight hug. 

Nonchalantly you peel off your flowy sundress, it’s stickiness from your sweat making you cringe. “I missed you last week, why didn’t you come to class?” Jiuen pouts, “I'm sorry bub, I somehow caught a cold, but I trust you have some notes for me.” 

The way Jieun flutters her lashes at you innocently forces a roll from your eyes. Slathering sunscreen onto your arms, you reprimand her, “I swear you’re only using me for my notes, you literally never listen in class! Can you get my back please?”

She hums while you turn around, her small hands kneading sunscreen from your shoulder bones to the small dip in your back. Jieun continues to blabber on about the joys of life, not even checking if you’re listening to a single word she says. Instead your eyes are zeroed in on a certain someone.

Your staring is blatantly obvious but you don’t care. It’s only when Taehyung spots your burning gaze with a small smirk does he signal Jungkook to turn around to meet your flirty grin.  

Holy shit

The sun does a real great job of highlighting the gorgeous curves of your body adorned in quite possibly the smallest baby blue bikini he’s seen on a woman. Your breasts practically spill out of the tiny triangle cups and the pretty colour compliments your skin beautifully. 

Whilst Jungkook can admit you have one of the hottest bodies he’s seen in a while, his eyes surprisingly don't linger on your delicious curves for too long. Instead, he finds himself utterly enamoured by the way your eyes crinkle slightly when you smile prettily at him, your cheeks glowing with it. 

It suddenly dawns on him that you are the first girl that has truly enchanted him, and no, your ridiculously gorgeous body had little to do with it. 

Jungkook does not mind this change one bit. 

So, instead of staring at you like a gaping goldfish, he matches your flirtatious body language with a boyish grin and a small wave. His previous nerves dissipating only to be replaced by confidence and polished charm. He doesn’t want to scare you off with his sudden look of epiphany just yet, but the new unfamiliar feeling you give him is surely doing exactly that.

“My, my, Yoongi wasn’t lying.” Jieun stifles a giggle when she notices how Jungkook’s attention has steered towards you and only you. You’re quick to turn around, brows furrowed. “What are you on about?” 

“Oh you know… You and Jungkook”

You grimace, tired of the repeated topic of conversation. “Just because I sucked his dick once does not mean we're a thing” 

“Oh really? He’s asked me an awful lot of questions about you I was beginning to think otherwise”

“Wait, really?”

Jieun has the widest cheshire grin plastered on her face, it's starting to look quite unsettling.

“Really.”

You’re thoroughly shocked to say the least. You thought your fast, fleeting blowjob, sort of, was nothing special. A usual escapade to get his daily fill. Ordinary. Unmemorable.

However, it seems to be quite the opposite.

Jieun grabs your hand and swings it back and forth, exactly like a mother would do, although she’s merely two years older than you. “I know Jin’s been up your ass about Jungkook and frankly I don’t blame him he’s still a little shit from time to time but, he’s actually quite fun to be around and honestly I think his playboy tendencies seemed to dial down a bit since he met us.” The two of you giggle quietly amongst each other, quick feet making your way closer to the pool to avoid the scorching pavement.

Your toes are the first to dip into the pool and you practically moan at the cold water melting away the blistering haze that sticks onto your skin. The water is icy at your waist and you love it. “So my advice would be not to worry about him, instead it's his little army of plastic bimbos that you should watch out for.” 

“Ahh, internalised misogyny. We love to see it.” 

Jieun acknowledges you with a hum as the two of you float around the calming abyss. She then swims closer to you, nodding her head into the direction of a lonely Jungkook, who lazily stares at your alluring form. “I think your loverboy over there wants to talk to you.”

Jieun swims away before you can protest, leaving you to face the handsome man before you. His eyes are round and docile, yet his stare is tantalising, it pulls you in as if he’s slowly reeling you in with a rope. 

The water delicately ripples around your body when you approach him and you internally sigh in awe at the striking features of his stunning face. You want to use this opportunity to finally get to know him, and perhaps form a new friendship. 

You take note of the lack of Jin’s hawk-like eyes or for better the lack of any eyes on the two of you. You’re alone, huddled into one of the far corners of the pool, your conversation private, just for two pairs of ears. 

You open your mouth to speak, “So-”

“I-”

An uncomfortable silence stills the air and you both halt your words to giggle quietly amongst yourselves. God, this is awkward. 

“You go first”, You offer, tucking a wet strand of hair behind your ear. Jungkook follows the subtle movement of your fingers before taking a deep breath. 

“I feel like we should discuss the elephant in the room”

You're stunned. “Huh?”

“You know… That Friday night?”

Of course you knew what he was referring too, yet you wondered why as you honestly didn’t think that night had much impact on the man. 

With a raised brow you ask, “What about it?”

“I’ve just had a lot of... thoughts”

You scratch your head feeling puzzled. You’re sure Jungkook has had better blowjobs in his lifetime. Hell, Jungkook did most of the work that night. “Do you usually discuss the past hookups you have, or am I just lucky today?”

You’re teasing him, nevertheless Jungkook tilts his head back towards the sky. All he wants is clarification, only this conversation is heading down an awkward path, so he decides to spit out what’s been bothering him for the past few days.

“Okay listen, I know this is odd to say, but ever since that night, It’s like I can’t get you out of my head.”

Your ego inflates at his statement and you smirk. You knew you could suck dick well, but according to Jungkook you seem to have quite the talent.

You smile proudly, “damn, look at me go, I can’t believe I have the campus playboy wrapped around my finger.”

Jungkook scoffs, both in annoyance and embarrassment because shit, he could have worded that differently, now he sounds like the clingy girls he fucks.

“Yeah, yeah let’s not pretend like I was the only one enjoying myself here. Weren’t you the one practically begging to be touched?” 

You’re amused. “Weren’t you the one who couldn’t make me cum. Yet came from their own handjob?”

Jungkook tongues his cheek and looks away. The way you speak so casually intimidates him. No girl has ever spoken to him this way, in fact, Jungkook’s the one who usually likes to tease. He can slowly feel the creeping heat alighting his cheeks and God does he hope you don’t notice.

You patiently wait for Jungkook’s reply, a sly grin adorned on your pretty face. However, Jungkook doesn’t say anything, rather he frowns and immaturely splashes water at your face. 

“Jungkook!” You sputter, wiping at your face to rid of the chlorine in your eyes. “What the fuck was that for?”

He shrugs, “sorry my hand must’ve slipped”

You don’t take that for an answer, your petty nature crawling out as you splash him back harder than he had done. “Hand slipped, my ass.”

You cross your arms smugly, a small laugh blossoming out of your mouth when Jungkook cutely rubs at his eyes. 

It’s after a minute when you realise Jungkook hasn’t stopped furiously rubbing his eyes. The circular motions of his hand move so intensely that it begins to look painful and irritating. “Fuck, it stings”, he exclaims in agony.

Shit, you inwardly curse, gently touching his wrist, concern lacing your features because you didn’t think getting chlorinated water in one's eye would sting that much. You analyse his facial expressions closely and you wince at the redness surrounding his eyes from his harsh rubbing. 

On the contrary, Jungkook knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s competitive and won’t back down from a fight, even if it’s just fun banter, so he continues his little scheme just for the fun of it and hides his small grin under his large hands.

You’re now slightly panicked, “fuck, Jungkook I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hit the water that hard I-”

Jungkook cracks.

Ever so slowly, he peeps his eyes out at you and watches with a mischievous smirk as your face morphs from alarmed to annoyed in less than a millisecond.

You tighten your grip on his wrist and attempt to slap his hard chest with your free hand, however Jungkook’s reflexes are fast and he grasps your hand tightly, a teasing glint in his eye. 

“You little shit-”

All of a sudden a loud holler is heard from the front door, rousing a relaxed Jin out of his chair as he sprints while simultaneously yelling at the ruckus being made. It’s then a stampede of both familiar and unfamiliar faces come crashing in. Some jump straight into the pool to cool off from the blazing sun while others rush to the table of assorted alcohol, desperate to get an ounce of it in their system.

Word seemed to go around about Jin’s supposed small get-together unbelievably fast, causing the once tranquil Kim Seokjin into a raging volcano. 

You’re pressed right up against Jungkook’s solid chest and he surprisingly pays you no mind, even though your perky tits are deliciously pushed up perfectly against his body. Jungkook’s eyes are not settled on them, rather he pays close attention to the amount of people dangerously plunging into the pool at a fast rate.

Jungkook protectively hugs your shoulders to shield you from the rowdy party goers who definitely do not understand the definition of personal space. Your heart swells when he then delicately places your head in the crook of his neck and wraps an arm around your fairly exposed body, essentially guarding you from frantic wet limbs and ignorant individuals.

You feel comfortable and safe, so comfortable that you wouldn’t mind staying like this for a while if it weren’t for the throng of college students delving into the cooling water. 

Jin’s house begins to fill with unexpected guests very quickly and you wonder how Jin is handling the situation. You suppose not very well when you see him whipping people with towels, red ears making an appearance and his booming voice following him.

Jungkook wants to get out and he’s sure you feel the same way which is why he smoothly slots his hand into your own, long fingers wrapping around your hand to carefully pull you through the growing crowd of people in the pool.

Whilst pushing past a variety of college students you are met with many stares, even worse, numerous envious eyes and whispers of possible gossip. You try your best to avoid their gazes, the hard stares reminding you of the last time Jungkook held your hand to push through groups of people. 

Water drips down the curves of your body and lands in little pools around you when you step out of the pool. At this point you’ve garnered even more turning heads that examine every inch of your skin closely. Their stares itch your skin and you feel akin to an animal kept in a zoo enclosure, curious eyes breaking down your confidence, you want to hide. 

You usually like to pride yourself on your confidence because you know you’re hot and you know your worth. It had taken many failed relationships to build up your self love and nourish the scars and memories of questioning if you’re good enough. 

You fight on and squeeze Jungkook’s hand, mostly for some sort of reassurance. It shocks you when he astonishingly squeezes back and softly rubs his thumb over the back of your hand. It’s almost as if he knows how you’re feeling. 

You glance up at him shyly. Jungkook keeps his eyes straight ahead. He smiles a different kind of smile than the one he had directed to you a few hours ago. His lips are in a permanent smug smirk. His usual playboy smile. He flashes it at everyone as if he’s asking for their approval and even goes in to high-five a few people who are unrecognisable to you. You soon realise that this is what Jungkook thrives on. People, validation and his notorious reputation he’s created for himself.

Jungkook lights up at the presence of crowds, flirty smiles and people calling his name, whereas you want to crawl into your skin and run away because from the perspective of outsiders it looks like you’re just another one of Jungkook’s flings that will soon be forgotten by next week.

Well, you hope you won’t turn out to be one of them.

At last you find yourself away from the heart of the party, your dress in hand but your body still wet nonetheless. Jungkook is in the same state as yourself, droplets of water dribbling from his dark hair and onto the timber flooring. He leans into your ear, “I’ll go get us some towels, stay here.”

He’s gone before you can reply, making small conversation when he passes by various people, his boisterous laugh echoing down the halls. 

You’re alone now, and defenceless at that. There’s not many people you know here, besides the few odd people you share a class with and some sleazy frat boys that hold a similar reputation to Jungkook. You want to find Jieun so you can hug her or maybe ask her if she can take you home, but she is nowhere to be found.

Fuck, You remember leaving your bag on the kitchen table, unsupervised with many personal belongings stowed away inside. Using your dress to cover the most of your exposed skin like a blanket, you stride over to the kitchen and sigh in relief when you find your bag untouched and in perfect condition.

Snatching up your bag, you grab your phone and immediately text Jieun to find out where the fuck she’s hiding, but there’s a part of you that knows she’s probably fucking Yoongi somewhere. Traitor.

Jungkook finds you to be in a completely different part of the house than where he asked you, one towel wrapped around his neck and the other draped over his arm. You haven’t noticed him yet, your frantic fingers texting a treacherous Jieun, “princess, didn’t I tell you to stay put?”

You’re startled. Switching your phone off you stick your arm out, waiting for Jungkook to pass you the towel but he doesn't. Jungkook gently pushes your shoulders so that you turn away from him and carefully wraps the towel around your body like a cape. You hold the edges of the fabric to help him hug the towel around yourself, keeping it tighter to your body.

Your voice is quiet, “thank you.”

Jungkook leans down to meet your face, “What was that?”

Even though Jungkook had been in the pool longer than you, his cologne still sticks to his skin and you kind of want to breathe more of it in, but that would be weird.

“Oh, I said thank you.”

You’re close to him again, although this time he towers over you with a look almost identical to a predator meeting its prey.

Jungkook’s eyes flirt around your face and descend. He shamelessly drinks up the swell of your breasts and whatever skin is visible amidst the fluffy towel around you. It’s strange. You had noticed Jungkook doing the exact same thing when you were alone with him. The difference though was that his looks were cursory as if he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. Now, It's like a new persona had taken over him and he was ready to pounce at any sign of a green light. 

He’s stuck in a trance, fuckboy tinted glasses fogging his vision.

You force out a giggle and playfully shove his shoulder, “my eyes are up here, you know.” 

His reply comes lighting fast, he’s definitely been in this position before. “I know, just admiring them.”

Jungkook wants to hit himself the second his reply spewed out of his mouth. He desperately wants to reassure your unimpressed (though also very cute) face, because goddammit he wanted to be respectful. Jungkook knows he has a tendency to slip into a new personality when the right amount of people hyped him. Call it being two faced, he knows it's one of his fatal flaws. 

“I'm sorry.” 

He says it genuinely. 

Jungkook only just got to properly meet you, he doesn’t want to give you the wrong impression! He can admit, your first ever official meeting (moreso hookup) wasn’t ideal, yet the way Jin dragged him through the mud undoubtedly made him understand that you weren’t the type of woman that should ever undergo the treatment he puts his hookups through. Scratch that, any woman shouldn’t be treated the way Jungkook treats them.

You're now fully covered under the towel, not a sliver of skin on display. You don’t know if his apology was genuine. “It’s ok I guess, I expected nothing less from you anyways.”

“Right.” He’s messed up.

You clear your throat, “I’m gonna go get changed, maybe look for Jieun unless-”

Jungkook finishes your sentence, “-she’s fucking Yoongi.”

You exhale, “yeah.”

“Jeon Jungkook!”

The voice makes you halt at its familiar tone. Jungkook doesn’t notice your growing panic as he too freezes in his spot. 

No, it can’t be.

The world plays in slow motion when he walks into your line of vision. His assertive stride, smug smile and sharp eyes.

Jeong Suho.

His name explodes inside of you like a blistering fire yet your heart feels ice cold. He is the very man you have spent weeks trying to avoid and even more trying to get out of your head.

The world plays at a normal speed when he approaches Jungkook. Their facial expressions are the same, the way they greet each other is the same. They’re practically the same breed of fuckboy, born from the same mother.

“Been awhile since I’ve seen you around.”

Jeong Suho was a person that Jungkook didn’t really mind, In fact there was a point in Jungkook’s life where he would’ve considered Suho to be one of his closest friends. They were two peas in a pod freshmen year of college. Never giving a fuck about their education and always present for any opportunity to get completely wasted with as many girls they could possibly seduce. Nowadays, Jungkook would rather keep his distance from him.

On the contrary, you were one of the many girls that had fallen deeply for Suho’s alluring charm. You fell so hard, you thought that maybe just maybe there was a possibility that you could secure a future with him. Obviously that was not the case.

You thank your lucky stars that Jungkook was there to distract Suho while you make your haste escape. All you need to do now is somehow locate an unoccupied bathroom, preferably without having to walk in on someone getting it on, and then you could get the hell out of there.

You must admit, you look quite ridiculous right now. Navy blue towel wrapped tightly around your body, your small head peeking through. You could probably pass as some form of E.T cosplay right now. You don’t care if you look rude, pushing and shoving whoever stands in your way. You only have one goal and you’re so so close to succeeding-

“Wait, Y/N! Is that you?”

Fuck.

Do you run? Maybe duck behind some poor innocent student looking for a good time? You huff, you're already sticking out like a sore thumb, there’s no use in trying to hide when the enemy has already spotted you. Even worse Jungkook motions you over with a wide gleaming smile. If only he knew how much you’re dreading this interaction.

Grudgingly, you walk over, looking like an irritated gremlin with your towel still firmly secured around you. Jungkook makes matters worse by pushing the towel off your head, releasing your scruffy ball of hair. You grimace. 

“I didn’t know you knew Y/N?”

Suho sends a smirk your way. You however, glower.

“Yeah we go way back, don’t we baby?”

You force a tight lipped smile, howbeit you look as if you have a mild case of constipation. 

“Sure.” It comes out rough through gritted teeth.

Suho notes your frustration, a sly grin carving onto his punchable face. He turns towards Jungkook, seemingly blocking you from their conversation, yet you know Suho wants you to hear what he has to say.

“You know it’s a shame. Y/N’s gorgeous, ten outta ten body, knows how to put it to good use, however she never let me fuck her. Don’t you think that’s weird?”

Jungkook stays silent for a minute, eyeing your shaking fists and angry eyebrows. Jungkook may be dumb, but he sure knows how to read a room, thus leading him to the conclusion that your relationship with Suho isn’t something you’re very fond of and that he should probably get you out of here.

“Uhhh no, that’s not weird at all actually. What I think is weird is the fact that you think you have this sick claim on every girl you’ve defiled and even worse, you’ve always had this strange need to chase after every virgin you see like some perverted cherry picker. Yeah, that’s weird.”

Suho laughs right in his face, spit grossly tickling his skin. “That’s rich coming from you Jeon, weren't you quite the cherry picker in your freshman days, no?”

Jungkook doesn’t know what he expected from this conversation. It definitely wasn’t this.

It's obvious that Jungkook isn’t a saint, he really fucking far from it. Although, one thing's for sure, it’s his absolute hatred for the way his brain was wired in his freshman year of college. Yes, Jungkook still remains as one of the standing campus fuckboys but he’s gained a few more brain cells since then. 

Jungkook opens his mouth to retort, only to be met with Suho’s back as he turns his attention towards you.

“Y/N, darling if I were you i’d make a run for it, ya know keep your chastity intact or whatever.” His smile is saccharine sweet, though his words are sickly sour.

The months of pent up anger stored within your being bubbles and overflows like a bad science experiment. You’ve quickly decided that now’s that time to expose the shitty excuse of a man, and quite frankly you don’t care that you have an audience. Actually, an audience would make this all the better.

Your finger is strong, pointing accusingly at his broad chest. “You know what you stupid motherfucker? Don’t waltz in here with that dumb smile of yours when you know you have some disgusting cheesy infection growing down there.”

Suho’s eyes widen slightly. It was no secret he was a walking STD, just about infecting every girl that was naive enough to sit on his dick. 

Everyone at the party has definitely stopped to listen to what you have to say. You even spot Jin from the corner of your eye sending you a proud smile. “And while we're on the topic of cheese, Learn how to wash your fucking dick!”

You don’t let him have a moment to speak, grabbing Jungkook’s hand and pulling him out of the house.

A few people applaud, some girls praise you on your way out. You give them no mind, you’ve had enough for tonight.   

Jungkook starts his car, no questions asked. It’s obvious to him that there’s bad blood between you and Suho. What you don’t know is that Jungkook can also relate. 

Technically there was no bad blood between them, moreso the hurtful memories and manipulation Suho put him through. To put it simply, Suho was probably the worst influence Jungkook could ever have as a vunerable freshman. 

The crunch of gravel and soft melodies that spill out of Jungkook’s radio converse with eachother and fill the defeaning silence that sits between you and Jungkook. 

Jungkook doesn’t even know where he’s going, he just drives. 

Every so often he checks up on you from the corner of his eye. Your knees stick tightly together and point away from him. Your fingers curl and uncurl, leaving cresent moons in your skin. And to finish it off, your face remains still, hostility completely washing over your features. If Jungkook didn’t know any better he would think you’d jump out of his car and make a run for it at the chance of him stopping the car.

It’s seven sniffles later when Jungkook decides he knows where he should take you.

The night sky is clear and the stars burn brightly to accompany the full round moon. It’s the perfect setting for release and maybe a screaming session if you’re up for it.

Jungkook makes a stop behind a forest of tall trees and a dirt path. You sit up immediately. 

“Where are we?” Your eyes are rimmed with tears, “I want to go home.”

Jungkook shuts the engine off, “you never told me where you live.”

“Well you never asked!”

Maybe you shouldn’t have yelled because from the looks of it, Jungkook just wants to help you out and clearly you’re not being the friendliest right now. 

You curl back into yourself, “sorry”, another sniffle.

Jungkook brings your fists into his hands and warmly opens them up. You refuse to look at him, it doesn’t deter Jungkook one bit.

Tenderly he brings a finger under your chin, gradually bringing your eyes up to his. Jungkook takes his time with you, careful to not set you off until you’re face to face with his warm eyes. 

“I brought you here because it’s apparent we both need let out some pent up steam.” He drags his fingers delicately across the curve of your chin and back into his lap. His touch is fleeting, you miss it already. “I just thought you may want to vent or just shout out into the void, it’s up to you.” You nod, fully trusting Jungkook’s intentions. “And at any time you feel like going home just say the word and I’ll take you there, okay?” 

Your heart swells in adoration at his caring nature, though you can’t help but wonder how he can have such a sudden change in personality depending on where he is and who he’s with. It’s unnerving. 

Jungkook clicks his seatbelt off and heads out the car, “put your dress back on princess, I’ll be out here waiting for you.” You mutter your confirmation and do as he asks.

The cool summer air kisses your skin and runs through your hair as you step out of the car. Jungkook is already by your side dressed in an oversize hoodie with another in his hand as well as a fuzzy blanket. 

Jungkook steps closer to you, holding the hem of his hoodie to slip over your body. Without a second thought you raise your hands causing Jungkook to chuckle at how cute you look dwarfed in his clothes.

The same cologne you smelled on his skin earlier lingers on every fibre of fabric around you. His scent is everywhere, swirling around your head, instantly calming down your anxieties. You smile at him, “Lead the way Jungkook.”

Jungkook leads you up a small hill and you notice the trees opening up to display a lush field of grass. However, the sight before you leaves you in absolute wonder. You stand completely still and take it all in. 

The night sky is dark but the city below illuminates is beautifully. Your gaze bounces over all the buildings, skyscrapers and their dazzling bright lights. It’s peaceful up here, you decide as you take a glimpse of the hundreds of tall structures looking so tiny, so ant-like.

Jungkook is settled behind you, his legs comfortably folded underneath himself. He remembers what it was like the first time he saw the view, which is why he doesn’t blame your stunned silence and glazed eyes. 

“How did you find this place?”

You find your way towards Jungkook and plant yourself right beside him. “I don’t know, I was just driving aimlessly one night and found it, It’s nice right.”

You hum, “it’s beautiful.”

Jungkook murmurs in agreement as you lie down on the woolly blanket beneath you. The stars twinkle and glimmer amongst the deep blue sky, creating a serene experience. You shut your eyes.

“I hate him.”

Jungkook looks down at you, you don’t see him though. “Suho?”

“Yeah”, you exhale deeply, “I can’t believe I had to see him again.”

Although Jungkook knows you can’t see him, he swivels his body around to face you properly. “Did you guys date or something?”

You scoff, “pffft you know Suho doesn’t date anyone.” You open your eyes, meeting a pair of round docile ones. You continue, “Suho was the first guy who every gave me an ounce of attention. Before him guys never looked my way. Jungkook remains silent, letting you pour out what’s on your mind.

“Suho had me fooled, I thought I was special to him, thought he saw something in me that was different from the others. Turns out that was his game after all”

You speak so animatedly, your hands wave around in the air, your eyebrows scrunch when the memories come back to you. “It’s stupid really, how I used to gush to him about finding the one person in the universe that was created just for me. I guess he used this as my weak point.” 

Inhale, exhale. 

“He made me believe he was that special person for me, used it as an excuse to pressure me into sex.” A tear rolls down the side of your face, falling perfectly in a straight line. “I almost gave in, but something just felt so wrong. Every time I said no he would call me terrible names, tell me that no one would want me if I never gave them what they wanted. And I believed him.”

Another tear escapes your wet orbs, Jungkook is there to wipe it this time.

“I broke it off after I found out he fucked my roommate and gave her some disease.” You chuckle, “I guess I’m lucky I never let him fuck me huh?” 

Jungkook’s heart breaks at your saddened eyes and the way Suho treated you, he sweeps a stray hair out of you face. “I think you dodged a bullet there princess, what he did to you was pure evil, no one, and especially you don’t deserve that”

You sit up, wiping remaining tears and thanking him as you go, “It’s your turn now.” You pat his thigh, “tell me why Suho got you so riled up tonight.”

Jungkook shuffles in his spot, “It’s actually kind of similar to you.”

You gasp sarcastically, “no way he pressured you into sex too?”

He laughs, eyes squeezing shut, “No, no, nothing like that.”

You lean closer to Jungkook, giving him the same attention he had given you. “My father left when my mother found out she was pregnant with me, so growing up I had no male figure present in my life. My mother stopped at nothing to give me that to the point that almost every week I’d wake up and see a new man drinking out of my favourite mug. I didn’t mind it because I was only a child and some part of me always hoped they would stay, but they never did.”

“My mom was a hopeless romantic. She held so much sentimental and idealistic views on love that it stuck to me. She always told me that there was someone special out there just for me.” You smile at the similar belief, Jungkook sighs. 

“Cut to college, Suho was the first friend I made. I had no experience with girls whatsoever, and I still held on to my mother’s faith. Whenever I talked to Suho about it he would always shut me down or make fun of me.”

“He told me that all my feelings are bullshit, and that I only felt that way because I’ve never hooked up with anyone before. Next thing I knew we were going to parties every week getting absolutely shitfaced and fucking every girl I laid eyes on.”

You nod, listening intently. “And tonight, he hit a nerve. What he said made me realise that I’m just as bad as him. He moulded me into this person and now I have a reputation.”

Jungkook’s eyes drop, “he broke my concept of love before I even got to experience it.”

You never knew Jungkook was in a place like this. You always thought he was like Suho, built to break hearts and show no emotion when it came to love. Jungkook was nothing like that. His heart was truly big, desperately longing for someone.

Placing your hand on top of his own you comfort him as best as you can, “oh, Jungkook, trust me when I tell you this, the love in your heart is not broken. Think about it, most people you’ve met have been through college right?” He nods, “there are so many other people out there that you’ve never met, soon you’ll be able to find that someone and learn how to love. I know you present yourself as this emotionless playboy, but once you let that part of you go it’ll feel so freeing.”

Jungkook stares deeply into your eyes, he’s so thankful that he decided to bring you here, he can’t contain his happiness. 

“Can I like, hug you?” Jungkook asks shyly. You smile, and it’s so big and bright Jungkook might as well be staring at the sun. Before he knows it, you’re tackling him into the most wholesome hug he’s ever had. You’re warm and you smell like vanilla, It feels like home.

“Get up”, he says abruptly, extending his arm to pull up your confused self.

“What-”, Jungkook cuts you off, “have you ever just let yourself scream?”

Jungkook has intertwined your hands together, and your heart pounds at the realisation of how well they fit together. “Well, no but I assume that’s what we’re about to do right now.”

He pulls you closer to the edge of the small hill, the view of the city sparkles right in front of you. “On the count of three, one- two- three!”

You scream, you let it all out and God does it feel refreshing.

The two of you sound utterly insane, but none you give a single fuck. You scream until your lungs burn and your throat itches you to stop.

The volume of both of your voices ring out into the night sky only for the moon, stars and yourselves. The night is still young but Jungkook wouldn’t have it any other way.

With you he lets go of everything, all the past mistakes, all the hurt because at this moment he feels like he could fly, soar into the clouds. 

He feels infinite.

Taglist <3 

@zibermuda @uskookie @jeonscandies @melaninkpops @apollukee @hollowtree10 @liliskies @madygswich @pjmochii @eggbutnotyolk @gyukult @yukiehyukie @purplepearl07 (couldn’t tag) @tae165 @youurkryptonite @94ser0da @french-myfries @zippytheshark37 (couldn’t tag) @we8joon @tearvantae​ @emrysts @inspinkyring​​

[ifmywishescametrue]

Choosing which prompt to send you from list was an impossible task!! They’re just all that good🥺 but if u feel inspired, maybe 15 or 76 would be really cute for stevetony?

Also, hope you have the best and loveliest day, friend 💖💝

thank you for sending one!! for #76 - "thank you for making me smile" - here's 1.6k words of getting together and absolutely terrible jokes

also i hope you have the loveliest day too 🥺

"I'm never listening to your advice again," Steve says the second he walks in the door. He lets it slam shut behind him and stomps off to his bedroom with another rough bang.

Tony and Bucky exchange a look on the couch, and Tony pauses their video game.

"Me or you?"

"Probably you," Bucky says. "Your advice is usually shit."

Tony scoffs, "Please, I'm a genius for a reason. All of my advice is amazing. Or are you forgetting that I'm the reason that you have a boyfriend right now?"

"One time in the last three years and you won't let it go."

"It'd be you and your right hand for the rest of your life if it wasn't for me."

Bucky rolls his eyes, "I would have made it work with Sam on my own eventually. But that's besides the point. I haven't given Steve any advice lately, so it has to be you. And in case you forgot, I don't even live here. He didn't know I was here when he said it."

"You don't live here?" Tony says with mock surprise. "Wow, you eat an awful lot of our food then."

Bucky grins, "It's payback for all the times you did the same to me before I moved out. Now go fix Steve. We'll rematch tomorrow."

"I didn't break him," Tony argues, even as he sets his controller down and stands from the couch. "I am a beacon of wisdom."

"You started a fire in the microwave twice last week, beacon."

Tony flips him off on his way to Steve's bedroom. He knocks once and ignores it when Steve tells him to go away.

Steve is sitting at his desk with his back to the door and his sketchbook open in front of him. He has a pencil in his hand, but the page is untouched.

"So, uh, what's up with you?"

"Nothing."

Tony nods slowly, "Right, okay. Care to share what advice of mine went wrong exactly? Cause I gotta say I'm drawing a blank."

"I was talking to Buck."

"Oh," Tony says in relief, then he frowns. "How'd you even know he was here?"

"When isn't he here? Our fridge is always empty because of him."

Tony smiles and flops down on Steve's bed, propping himself up against the pillows with his arms folded behind his head. He pushes the back of Steve's chair with his foot, making it spin his way.

"So what did Bucky do?"

Steve looks like he's about to say, but then he bites his lip and shakes his head instead. "Really doesn't matter."

Tony looks at him for a long moment, taking in all those subtle tells of his. The slight downturn of the corners of his mouth and the crease between his brows, but they don't come with any tension in his jaw or shoulders, which means he's more disappointed than angry. His eyes never hide hurt, but there's none to be found in them. Whatever it was didn't crush him, and Tony knows just how to fix him when he's like this.

He pokes Steve's arm with his socked toes. "Hey, Steve, why did the golfer bring two pairs of pants?"

Steve sighs, but there's already a hint of a smile. Further evidence to support Tony's hypothesis.

"Why, Tony?"

"In case he got a hole in one."

Steve presses his lips together and shakes his head. "That's not very funny."

"Why do bees have sticky hair?"

The look Steve gives him is long-suffering.

"Because they use honeycombs," Tony grins, and Steve relaxes back into his chair a little. "What kind of music do planets like?"

"Neptunes," Steve says, smirking a little, and Tony pouts dramatically.

"Nooo, how did you know that?"

"Used it on me two months ago. Remember when you broke the sink and you didn't want me to be mad at you anymore?"

"I also remember fixing the sink in the same day, but fine dwell on the fact that I broke it in the first place."

Steve laughs, and Tony feels the knot in his own chest loosen. He hates it when Steve's upset. It throws him off his own axis, because his world revolves around Steve's sun.

He gets up from the desk chair, and Tony shifts over to make room for him on the bed. They reach for each other's hands at the same time, interlocking fingers in the small space between them.

It's moments like these when the longing hits him the most. When Steve is this close, but it doesn't mean nearly as much to him as it does to Tony.

Sometimes he pictures what it would be like if he leaned over a little more. If Steve's eyes would flicker down to his lips, then away quickly like he didn't want to be caught. He wonders what Steve's cheek would feel like under his hand as he pulls his attention back, silently telling him it's okay to look.

It always stops there in his mind, right before a first kiss that he just knows would change his life. Guilt creeps in, because he should be happy with what he has. Happy with all of the pieces Steve lets him have now. It's more than most people will ever get.

"Thank you," Steve says. "You're the only one who can ever get me to smile after a day like today."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Tony asks, tilting his head to the side to look at him.

Steve bites his lip again, staring up at the ceiling. It takes a long moment for him to talk.

"There's somebody that I like, but they don't like me back. Not like that, anyway."

Tony's heart sinks, but he tries not to let it show. "You told them and they rejected you?"

Steve shakes his head, "No, I don't need to tell them to know how they feel. But Bucky said that I should find someone else to get over them, so I asked out that girl in my art history class."

"The one with the nose ring?"

"That's the one, yeah. We went for coffee this morning."

"How was it?" Tony asks, and more guilt accompanies the fact that he's actively and selfishly hoping Steve is about to say that it was awful.

Steve shrugs, "It was fine, technically. But then she tried to kiss me, and I sort of freaked out and ruined it. She looked at me like I was insane, and, god, it was so embarrassing, but I just couldn't do it when I know that I don't actually want anything like that from her. I didn't want to lead her on. It's not fair to her."

"Not fair to you either," Tony says softly. "You shouldn't force yourself to like someone you don't. And whoever the other person is, the one that doesn't want you back, they're missing out on someone really amazing, and they're stupid to let you go."

Steve smiles, but it's tinged with sadness as he turns his head to look at Tony. "I don't know about that. They can do better than me."

"Hey, no, don't say that. You're incredible. You're funny and smart and gorgeous, and I've never met anyone as kind as you in my entire life. There isn't anyone better than you, okay? And if they don't see that, then fuck them. Clearly, they're dumb as hell anyway," Tony rants, getting progressively louder as he goes and his free hand gesturing wildly.

"They're kind of a genius, actually."

Tony rolls his eyes, "Yeah, sure they are. Way to miss the point."

Steve's smile turns amused. "No, but they really are."

"What is this?" Tony asks with narrow eyes. "Are you trying to make me jealous by saying you know other geniuses? Cause I'm the only know-it-all in your life. I claimed the spot. It's mine."

"Definitely yours," Steve agrees, and he shifts a little to turn on his side. With his left hand, he tentatively reaches up towards Tony's face, and Tony's breath catches at the brush of fingertips against his cheek. "I think I might have been wrong, though, about how they feel about me."

It takes a few seconds for it to click in Tony's, but even when it does he doesn't believe it just yet.

"Why's that?"

"Apparently they think I'm incredible, and they get really angry when anybody else thinks otherwise."

Tony smiles softly, "Yeah, they really don't like that."

Steve's thumb strokes across his cheekbone, then his fingers drift back to run through his hair.

"They think I'm funny, too, but they've also got a terrible sense of humor, so I don't know how accurate that is."

Tony laughs, then says, "You know what I think?"

"What's that?"

"I think you should kiss them. Just go for it and see what happens."

Steve smiles, slowly leaning down, "You really think so? It could make things weird. We might not be able to be friends anymore."

Tony puts his hand on the nape of Steve's neck, drawing him further in until he's a scant inch away. "Trust me, they don't really want to be just a friend, anyway."

He finds out that Steve's skin is smooth and warm beneath his palms, and his lips are unexpectedly soft. His hands are constantly in motion, slowly mapping out Tony's hips and sides and back like he's memorizing the feeling. As if it's his one chance to learn what Tony feels like he won't let it get away from him. But it won't be the only one. There will be second, third, and hundredth kisses, because Tony knows better than to let someone like Steve slip away.

"Hey, Tony?" Steve whispers after.

"Yeah?"

"What's the best thing about Switzerland?"

Tony smiles, "What?"

"I don't know, but the flag is a big plus."

They stare at each other, and Steve is the first to crack, but his laugh makes Tony follow right behind him.

[waveypedia]

and now, for my next number, i’d like to return to the classics

Rymin Week Day 7: Domestic

1 2 4 5 6

Ao3

~

It’s been years since he lived primarily in his van on tour, but Ryan will never not be grateful to always have a kitchen.

Early morning sunlight streams through the soft white curtains as he goes through the motions of breakfast. The curtains were a gift from one sister, the cookware a gift from their old manager before she got promoted. The sleek fridge, which Ryan opens next, was a careful purchase he and Min worked together to carefully pick out, as is the same for most of their furniture. The eggs he pulls out from inside it are from their local farmer’s market, where all the vendors know them by name. Not because they used to be semi-famous rock stars, but because they come by every week toting instruments to serenade the shoppers with.

Ryan coats the pan in nonstick cooking spray and cracks the eggs into it. Salts it. He puts the ingredients away while he’s waiting for it to cook and pours two glasses of water.

Then, all that’s left is the waiting.

Ryan finds one of his guitars leaning against the wall in the next room. Their apartment is chock-full of all kinds of musical instruments they’ve accumulated over the years. After all the fuss Ryan had to go through to get his first guitar as a teenager, it feels both strange and gratifying to see how far he’s come.

One instrument they do not have is a viola. Min has played it on his own, usually on lease from friends, but he won’t play it regularly enough to buy one. Ryan is more than happy with that.

Ryan sits down on top of the counter and plucks a few, soft notes on his chosen guitar. He doesn’t have any particular melody or song in mind; he just lets his fingers play what they wish.

In no time at all, the eggs finish cooking. Ryan regretfully sets down the guitar to flip them and slide them onto plates. Just as he’s turning off the stove, the sound of a door opening down the hall and resounding footsteps reaches his ears.

Ryan snorts.

His husband emerges into the kitchen, hair still messy from bed. Even after all these years, Ryan’s heart flutters at the sight of him.

Min leans down to steal a kiss off the top of Ryan’s head. “Ooh, eggs. Are those for me?”

Ryan swings the plate away, nearly spilling the coveted breakfast. “Of course not. I cook for myself. Never for my handsome husband.”

“Hmm, too bad.” Min grabs a fork and leans in for a bite. “Hey, these are good!”

Ryan laughs and leans against Min’s chest. “Almost as good as your ability to come running as soon as there’s food ready. I swear, Min, it’s superhuman.”

“Only if it’s your food,” Min promises, struggling not to laugh.

Ryan cackles. “Of course. I see how it is”

Min kisses him again and steps away. “I’ll get the table set if you plate the eggs and get some fruit, dear.”

“I can do better than that!” Ryan dishes out the eggs on two plates and cuts some oranges up. He walks over to the toaster and drops two pieces of toast in. “A full breakfast. How about that?”

Min laughs and pulls a tub of butter out of the fridge. “Lovely, thank you.” He peers at the plates. “Eggs and toast. How downright American of you. Would you like some bacon with that?”

 “Hey, at least it’s not post-war,” Ryan quips back. He stretches his arms over his head and sets the plates down on the table. “Eh, that would take too much time.” He leans over to peck Min’s cheek. “After all, I would hate to miss breakfast with my lovely husband.”

Min beams. “Good choice.” His wedding ring twinkles in the early morning sunlight.

Ryan sighs dreamily. “Man, am I glad I married you.”

“Me too.” Min’s smile is fond and so full of love it makes Ryan’s heart swell. When he smiles, all his wrinkles soften and curve upwards like little smiles themselves. Ryan loves to kiss each one.

“So.” Min straightens out and pulls out his phone. “We have a practice session at 4 today, booked at the venue for Saturday’s performance.”

“Okay, good.” Ryan nods. “I want to run through the new arrangement Train to Nowhere.”

Min shakes his head, chuckling. “We’ve been playing that song for forty years, Ryan. Shouldn’t you know it inside and out?”

“I just want to tweak some things for this arrangement,” Ryan shoots back, not unkindly.

“Ryan.” Min reaches across the table to lay his hand on top of Ryan’s. Their wedding rings make a soft clink sound when Min’s hits his. “It’s going to be fine. The fans love that song, as do we. We know it well.”

  I know, I know.” Ryan squeezes Min’s hand and glances away. His eyes catch on a vase of beautiful purple flowers. I need to water those today, he notes offhandedly. “That’s why I want it to be as good as it can be.”

“It will be,” Min promises.

Ryan smiles. “I believe you.”

Min laughs, reaching across with his other hand to squeeze Ryan’s cheek gently. Ryan laughs, batting his hand away. “Of course you do. You should listen to your husband more often, Ryan.”

“What are you talking about? I always listen to you,” Ryan snorts.

Min waggles his finger. “Ah-ah, that sheet music you bought last week would beg to differ,” he says. “I told you we already had it in a songbook somewhere.”

Ryan crosses his arms, faux-affronted. “Excuse me for wanting more music to play!”     

“I don’t care about that. Just spend our money on music we don’t already have,” Min says, leaning back in his chair with a smile.

Ryan shrugs and lets out a small huff of laughter. “I can do that.”

“Good.” Min gets up to clear their plates. “I’m going to go grocery shopping and then call my parents. Do you need anything?”

“No, but I’ll pop on that call if you don’t mind,” Ryan replies, standing up. “And can you grab some cheese? And the-“

“Those crackers you like, the ones that come in the blue box, I know, I know,” Min says, laughing and shaking his head affectionately. “It’s on the list.”

Ryan walks over and wraps an arm around his husband. “Ah, you know me so well. Thanks, babe.”

Min shrugs him off, laughing. “Stop calling me that! It’s not classy!”

“Pfft, okay.” Ryan kisses Min on the cheek before releasing him. “See you in a few hours?”

“You know it.” Min waves and kisses him goodbye before he’s out the door.

Ryan hums softly to himself as he cleans up the kitchen. It starts out as a B-side from one of Chicken Choice Judy’s earlier albums - their third, if memory serves correctly. Four years after they’d escaped the train, when their career was steadily taking off and they started touring outside of North America.

Ryan shook his head, chuckling softly to himself as he wiped a dish clean. “Man, what a time.”

As he works, the tune slowly shifts into something more original and unique. Something new. When he notices the change, he immediately scrambles for a pen and paper. Luckily, there’s a large notebook of blank sheet music in the drawer under the microwave for this exact reason.

Ryan flips past pages of sheet music penned from similar scenarios to a blank page. He leans against the counter, writing down notes and chords and lyrics as time slips away. Before he knows it, he has a full song on his hands and Min’s returned.

“Hey, honey,” Min says, dropping the grocery bags on the kitchen table and leaning in for a kiss. “Whatcha got there?”

Ryan tips the sheet music notebook over so Min can see. “A new song. I’m calling this one ‘Sunsets’ for now. What do you think?”

Min hums thoughtfully as he peruses the notes. “It sounds pretty, Ryan! May I suggest a ukulele rift here?” He taps the third line down as he talks. “I think that would add to the image.”

Ryan grins. “You’re a genius, Min.” He’s said similar statements many times over their forty-year music-writing career, but it never gets old.

Min preens, laughing. “Oh, I know. I’m gonna call my parents in a few, okay?”

“Sure. Call me when you’re ready.” Ryan doesn’t take his eyes off the music as Min leaves.

When he eventually hits a block, he puts away the groceries. He’s just finished when Min pokes his head out of the office door and beckons.

 “Hello, Ryan!” Min’s mother greets when he steps inside. “Lovely to see you.”

“You as well, 어머님,” he replies, squeezing into the office chair next to Min. It’s not supposed to be big enough to fit them both, but they always seem to manage. Min laughs and tries to bat him off, but it’s halfhearted at this point. Ryan has been doing it for long enough that Min gave up a while ago. Besides, they both know Min likes the subtle affection.

“Just get another chair,” Min’s father grumbles, not unkindly. His wife gives him a small nudge on the shoulder.

“Leave them alone. Let them enjoy each other’s company,” Min’s mother replies, shaking her head in mirth. “If they’re still in their honeymoon phase after all this time, that’s on them.”

“엄마, please,” Min sighs, burying his head in his hands. His mother just laughs.

--

At precisely four P.M., he and Min are settled onstage at Saturday’s venue. It happens to be a beautiful outdoor amphitheater with vines and greenery gently climbing up the pillars holding up the stage’s ceiling. The audience area is open-sky and curves gently downward, like a bowl.

Ryan stands in the center of said “bowl”, guitar hanging from his shoulders by its strap. He raises his arms to the sky and spins, taking in everything.

From his place onstage, behind his synthesizer, Min laughs. “What are you doing?”

“Just taking in the sights.” Ryan does a final spin for good measure before turning to face Min. “It really is quite pretty.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Min gazes up at the orange-tinted sky with a soft smile. “Our manager really outdid herself with the booking this time. We’ll have to thank her.”

Ryan clambers up on the stage, silently wincing at the height gap between the audience floor and stage floor. He’s really not as young as he used to be, is he? “Should we send her flowers?”

“I think she really liked the sunflowers we got her last time. They were on her living room table when we visited her.” Min places his fingers on the keys, hovering just above them. “Maybe chocolate, too.”

Ryan laughs. “How cliché. Is there something I should know?” He waltzes over to Min and wraps a lazy arm around his husband, leaning all of his weight into Min’s shoulders.

Min laughs and shoves him off. “Please, do I have to come out to you again? Not all of us are interested in women, you know.”

“And what a great loss to the female community it is. The ladies of the Min-Gi Park fan club will have to go in mourning,” Ryan giggled. “But really, flowers and chocolate sound nice. She’ll like it.”

Min gave him a thumbs-up. “Sound check?”

Ryan gives his guitar an experimental strum. It echoes across the amphitheater beautifully, filling the bowl with sound and vibration. He whoops. “Let’s get this party started!”

“Not until Saturday, or else we’ll have some very unhappy neighbors to contend with,” Min admonishes, laughing. His fingers fly across the keys. “I’m good too.”

Ryan taps his mic. “Then let’s get ready to rock!” His voice booms across the venue. A few peacefully roosting birds take flight, squawking indignantly.

Min rolls his eyes. “Leave the poor birds alone, and you have a deal.”

“Please, we all know they just want to hear us play.” Ryan fishes his guitar pick from his jacket pocket and holds it poised over his guitar strings. “How do you feel about Train to Nowhere as a warm-up?”

“Fine by me,” Min says. His eyes don’t leave his synth. “It’s my favorite song to play with you, Ryan.”

“Well, of course,” Ryan says. “It’s what got us together, after all. In more ways than one.”

Min laughs. “Well, I can’t argue with that. Care to count us off?”

“Oh, I was just waiting for you to ask.” Ryan raises his pick and grins. “Five, six, eleven, twelve!”

Somewhere in Canada, the sun sets over a practicing music duo in the early 2020s. They laugh and goof around on an empty stage as birds and a few curious passerby stop to watch. The notes of their original hit song, “Train to Nowhere,” grace the evening air.

In the middle of the song, their eyes meet. They do not speak outside of the song lyrics, but an entire conversation passes through their gaze. It’s all they can do to not run to each other and hug each other right then and there.

After all, Ryan and Min-Gi Akagi-Park have lived a lifetime with each other. And they will live out the rest of their lives with each other, happy and content beyond imagination. 

~

i'm not korean so i'm not sure if the words i used for min's mother are right. if anyone knows better and sees i'm wrong, please tell me! the website said the word min uses ( 엄마 / eomma) is the informal way to say mom, and you only use it for your own mother. the word ryan uses ( 어머님 / eomeonim ) is formal and often used for mothers-in-law. eomma is really similar to the hebrew word for mother, which is amma. i think that's fascinating because hebrew and korean are not similar languages at all. lingustics as a whole is fascinating because you can see where languages and dialects split off from each other and where/why that happened in history. it's also really cool to see languages so similar to each other you can communicate with someone else in two different languages. languages also have cognants (not sure if i'm spelling that right) where a word is basically the same across multiple languages. it's really interesting to see in this modern world of quick and easy communication how many cognants we have, especially for semi-recent terms (the technology unit in french was SO easy). anyway sorry for the tangent i just really love linguistics

man i wasn't planning to write for today until i realized i'd overestimated the chapter count and it felt weird to not write aksdgfjs. i hope i can keep to this schedule of writing every day but school will probably put a hard stop to that. gotta get out as much writing as i can before then! i started writing this at like 9pm i'm so sorry if it's messy dkfhjfkd

we've come full circle! this started with baby rymin and now we have much older rymin. poetic cinema........

the euphoria i got everytime i wrote "his husband"......... they are MARRIED gamers!!!!!

this is a callout post for every time i pour myself a bowl of chips at my aunt and uncle's house and all five of them suddenly think my bowl is a free-for-all even though the bag is sitting right there. stop i am not a chip dispensary. do not be min-gi akagi-park leave my chips alone

title is from uhhhh i don't know what it was called (some indie thing) but it was in my last winterguard show (fuck covid i wanted a senior season) and it just popped into my head. or it might have just been a voice line from something i heard it in another show with different music. whatever it's almost 1 am i'll look it up later. i put it on my titles doc (which is 90% song lyrics and which my brother likes to call the "song lyric moodboard" even though it's just a bullet list) out of impulse and nostalgia and never really intended to use it but it actually fits really well here?? who knew

it didn't make it in but i imagine that ryan and min have a parrot named kez and they've taught it some of kez's favorite and most iconic phrases. imagine you are visiting acclaimed musical duo chicken choice judy's house and you hear a parrot squawk at you "Why do you hate fun, Min." another thing that kind of made it in but not quite was that ryan has all those weird guitars. im picturing this one my temporary songleading teacher at camp, who's a professional musician and probably the most famous jewish folk artist out there (which is a very niche group so he's not really famous), brought out once. it was really small and had like eight tiny strings all crammed in together and it both fascinated and terrified me. i have no idea how you can play that without accidentally pressing all the wrong strings all the time but dan nichols can do it so i've decided ryan can do it too

tomorrow is au day... you know what that means... *shoves rymin into my current hyperfixation*

if you ever wanna talk infinity train, writing, these amazing characters, or really anything hmu here on my tumblr or on twitter! thank you for reading, and please leave a reblog/like/comment if you enjoyed it!

@ryminweek

[cloudytamaki]

so, this is how the summer ends • k.denki

⤷ genre: fluff, angst - quirkless au, everyone’s 21, set in LA

⤷ warnings: mentions of sex/implied sex, mildly suggestive, alcohol

⤷ summary: a casual drunk hookup between two young strangers became something ... more than sex.

a warm breeze blows a curl of hair from your forehead and you exhale, corners of your lips lifting into a small smile. it’s almost the end of august; the leaves on the trees are becoming orange and the warm summer winds are cooling down.

the end of an era, and the start of another.

you subconsciously turn your head and look beside you, almost wishing for someone to be there. he isn’t – the cushion of the porch swing is empty. the small smile slips off your lips and your brows furrow; you close your eyes as if the sight’s painful, turning back to watch the trees and sun.

you can’t help the tingling heat that begins to spread through your nose; the promise of tears yet to come.

your mind drifts back to the start of your summer – june 14.

the neighborhood nightclub music is loud, likely booming throughout the area and annoying the neighbors.

but the old neighbors don’t seem to matter as much as the glass of alcohol in your hands and the prickling heat in the back of your skull. there’s a lazy smile sitting upon your lips as you survey the club, taking sips of your drink every few seconds.

ah — there’s your friend, out twerking on the dance floor, getting cheered on by men who are whooping and waving their fists in the air. you cross your legs, the thought of shaking your ass in front of many men seeming unappealing to you.

“hey! can i get another, please?” a golden blonde stranger is suddenly beside you, left arm on the bar counter, a wide grin on his face as sweat runs down his temples.

the bartender sighs, slides him a filled cup, then goes back to cleaning the other glasses with a towel. the energetic looking guy plops down onto a stool beside you, nice white teeth catching the light.

“hey, why aren’t you out dancing?”

your lips flatten into a thin line as you turn to him, “don’t feel like it. it’s nice sitting over here and watching, though.”

“i guess.” he furrows his eyebrows in thought, lips scrunching a bit, “you come here alone?”

“nope.” you sigh, taking a bigger sip this time. “i had a friend come with me, we’d had a few drinks before she’d gone off to the dance floor.” you tiredly gesture towards the crowd, “so yeah. what about you, where’s your friends? you look like you should be over there partying rather than talking to me.”

“they’re all over the club.” he scratches the back of his neck sheepishly, “some of them didn’t come, others’re just.. around.”

“that makes sense.” another sip and you turn away from the blinding lights, “parties are fun for me, just not when i’m the center of attention.”

“i get that,” he chuckles, takes a sip of his own drink, “i know a guy exactly like that. 8:30 pm bedtime, 6:30 wake up.”

“are you serious? 8:30? i go to bed around 12.”

“yeah, i know right? he’s super strict on it too, we all make fun of him.”

“damn, that sounds fun.” you exhale before taking a bigger sip, the burn of the alcohol stinging a trail down your throat. “you have a name?”

he laughs at that, running a hand through his golden tufts, “denki kaminari, pleased to meet you, madam.” he jokingly places a kiss against your fingers and you let out a squeal of surprise, laughing as you pull your hands away from him.

“(y/n) (l/n), pleased to meet you too, denki kaminari.” you nod at him, drinking the last of your empty glass.

you both ask the bartender for more, and when you both stumble on your words in fear of interrupting each other, you decide to go against each other in a drinking challenge – five shot glasses filled with the second strongest liquor on the shelf.

you manage to down four glasses, determination the only thing keeping you going at this point; your cheeks are hot from the alcohol, brain fuzzy, surroundings beginning to blur every few seconds.

“y-you good?” denki doesn’t look all that good either. shit, he looks terrible – happy, but terrible nonetheless. five empty glasses are at his side and his golden eyes are focused on you.

“yeah, i’m fine.. round two?” you give him a challenging smile and he pouts, pushing out his lower lip as he asks the clearly tired bartender for more, once again.

you crack your knuckles and take a deep breath, picking up the first shot glass as you look at denki, nodding at the same time. you bring it to your lips and suck all the liquid down, almost feeling its burn in your spine when it goes down your throat.

another shot glass, then another – before you know it, you’re swaying on your feet like an idiot, brain spinning, muscles loose. you glance towards denki and you wonder why you’d let yourselves get so inebriated.

“damn, that was fun!” he’s slurring on his words and you bring a hand to your head, sighing.

“jesus christ, i need to sit down.” you both stagger towards a staircase, not caring about how idiotic you look while doing so.

you’re about to pop the dreaded question—how’re we getting home?—when he speaks instead, tilting his head back with a yawn-sigh.

“i’m horny.”

and that’s when you really notice something about him; his jawline is sharp and young, his lips pink and parted, his skin flushed from the drinks, his golden eyes piercing.

you find yourself saying something you’d never imagined would leave your lips, “i can help with that.”

“really? you?” he turns his head towards you and points to you almost accusingly.

you shrug, “i think it was the drinks, but yeah, me. don’t wanna pass up a good offer.”

he seems to think about it while you take a quick look at your phone. “11:48 pm – you stay horny or not, your choice.”

“okay.” denki does some jazz hands and you roll your eyes, “sure. i think there’s some upstairs rooms over here.” you both stand and turn, ascending up the stairs, deciding to walk into a decent looking room.

“so ...” you stand there awkwardly, surroundings spinning but you manage to look over to denki, who’s equally confused. “you said you were horny.”

“and you said you could fix that.” the both of you are standing there, looking at each other, not fully knowing what to do, so you decide to get the ball rolling.

walking over to him, you begin to plant kisses along his jaw and down his neck. he lets out a small whine when you pull away, but you’re feeling more confident when you look at him again.

“kiss me.”

you almost laugh at your confidence that night; you started off sitting alone with a cup of alcohol, not even planning to get drunk – where the fuck did that even come from?

a cooler breeze hits your skin this time, carrying the scent of nearby cooking. smells like some sort of pie, you guess, rubbing your hands over your thighs in remembrance of that drunken hookup. deciding to go inside, you slide off the porch swing, walking over to the back door, twisting the knob and heading inside.

the elevator comes surprisingly fast when you push the button; stepping in, you punch in the number five and wait as you’re lifted above all the other floors.

you take out your keys and step out of the elevator when it dings, walking down the hall to your door, inserting the keys and walking inside.

it’s cold, as expected.

sighing, you toss your keys onto the counter and open the cabinets, rooting around for some food. you come out with a packaged ramen cup; you open it and fill it up with water, then pop it into the microwave.

you lean against the stove as you wait; two minutes and the microwave beeps, you take out your hot food and grab a spoon, walking over to the kitchen table, switching on a light.

you eat alone, in silence.

“oh shit!” you practically throw yourself out of the twin-sized bed; your bare ass is on the cold floor and you’re frantically gathering as much of the sheet as possible, pulling it against your naked chest.

from the other side of the mattress, there’s a girlish scream and a head of golden blonde hair pops up, amber eyes wide with surprise and panic.

“who are you?” your hand comes up to your forehead to ease the pounding in the back of your head. “wait.” something clicks and some tension leaves your shoulders as you point at him, “aren’t you that kid from last night?”

“i’m 21, thank you very much.” he scoffs in disbelief, “how do you not remember me? you were literally moaning my—”

“okay!” you cut him off quickly, cheeks warming up in embarrassment as your brows furrow, “i ... drank too much.”

“same here.” he stands up, unintentionally putting himself on display, “where are we? i can’t remember going—”

“denki!” you practically scream, shielding your eyes, “please put some damn pants on!”

“sorry.” you hear some movement and rustling before the sound of a zipper, “there. what about you? you’re naked too.”

“i know, give me a minute...” you look around and locate your underwear and jeans. you slip them on, clasping your bra and throwing on your shirt.

you stand up, face to face with denki; his neck is spotted with love bites, his hair tousled, cheeks a light pink. “we.. should probably get going.” you grab your dying phone and check the time, “oh my god, it’s 10:15, i’m late for work.”

“you work on saturdays?” your relax at the question, exhaling in relief.

“no, not on saturdays. i thought it was friday or something.” you laugh but a stab of pain shoots from your head all the way through your body.

“how much did we drink last night?” you turn to the golden blonde, who sighs as he opens the door.

“i have no idea, i was gonna ask you. but we drank something strong.”

“i’m surprised we didn’t puke.” you both walk down the staircase, surprised to find that the club’s empty; pretty sunrays peek through the windows and dust floats in the air around you.

“well, i didn’t, but you did.” denki’s hand is at the back of his neck and he turns away from you in embarrassment, shuddering.

you cringe at what he’s insinuating, closing your eyes for a brief second. “um.. i’m sorry.”

“it’s fine,” he feels kind of weird asking, “where are you going?”

“well, i was planning on heading to my apartment, which you don’t typically do with a one-night stand, but i guess i can make an exception for you.”

“i’m getting special treatment? i’m flattered.”

you roll your eyes as you open the door, squinting when the sun hits your face, “it’s the least i can do in exchange for the fun last night.”

denki bursts out into laughter, wiping faux tears from his eyes while you stand there, watching him. when his laughs finally slow down and he’s standing upright again, you elbow him in the ribs.

“looks like we’re gonna be walking a few blocks. we’d better hurry before it gets hot.”

“you don’t have a car?”

a glare from you is enough of an answer for him.

you throw the empty cup into the garbage, the spoon into the sink. you walk into your bedroom and water your plants on the windowsill, wishing that night would come fast.

it’s only 6:52 pm, and the sun sets at 7:30. before, time never felt so slow – probably because you had someone to spend it with. 

your lips pull into a frown and you place the green watering can back on the windowsill, huffing out a sigh. when had you gotten so damn lonely?

the second week of knowing denki and you’re holding onto his hand tightly as you walk through the dark field, ignoring his protests of ‘it’s dark!’ and ‘what if there’s wolves out here?!’

“calm down already! look, we’re almost there!” you point ahead and he shrieks.

“but there’s no light! seriously, we’re gonna get eaten by wolves or maybe even hawks!”

“jesus christ, denki. there’s no wolves out here, and hawks can’t grab us.” you aren’t fully sure about the wolves, but it’s just a white lie.. that he doesn’t need to know.

“are you sure?”

you stop, turning to him, looking him directly in the eyes. “come on, have some faith in me.”

denki slowly nods, visibly relaxing. you keep walking; it’s silent for the next few minutes, and eventually you finally come to a stop in an area where you can perfectly see the moon.

“why’d we stop?”

he stands before you, watching curiously as you grab a branch and wink at him.

“just watch.”

slowly, you sweep the branch over the grass, and fireflies rise in the air around you. a faint buzz fills the air as they float around you both; you sit down beside him.

denki’s eyes are half-wide in appreciation, lips parted. he turns his head to you, voice much calmer than it was earlier. “it looks.. magical.”

he was right, it did look quite magical that night. you check the time on your phone, 7:05 pm – just a little longer, you can make it.

placing the phone on your chest, you sigh as you close your eyes, letting your mind wander again.

“uhh, i don’t know about this...” this time you’re the one who’s hesitant to do something with him, worry consuming your mind as you sit on the side wall of the apartment.

“come on, you can do it! just glide.” denki excitedly holds a hand out to you and you pull your bottom lip between your teeth in worry, but you reluctantly nod and grab it.

his hand’s warm and soft when he pulls you up onto your feet, flashing you his all too familiar grin. “you’ll be fine, i’ve got you.”

your skin warms at his words and you decide that rollerskating with him is worth the effort. “okay.. so you just go forwards and gently push off each time?”

“pretty much, look.” he demonstrates proudly, you give him some applause before copying his exact movements, and surprisingly, you don’t fall.

“there you go! okay, come on, i wanna show you somewhere cool i found earlier!” he grabs your hand and skates forward so quickly you panic, unable to do anything else but glide with him.

“oh my god, don’t go so fast! you’re gonna run into a streetpole!”

“no, i won’t, i’ll be fine! come on, i think you’ll like the boba place i found!”

you open your eyes, checking your phone again – 7:32, just in time for the sunset. you get off your bed and start to walk out of your room, but a red gleam catches your eye – you turn to see the red rollerskates you wore with denki.

ignoring the pang in your heart, you grab a jacket and head out of your apartment, locking the door behind you before heading into the elevator.

you’re heading to the highest floor; up there, you’ll be able to get to the roof.

after punching in number eight, you lean against the wall, looking at your hands. a ding alerts you that you’ve arrived; you step out of the elevator and open the door at the end of the hall, walking up the small metal staircase – finally, you’re here.

you don’t make any moves to sit; that’s something new. instead, you stand on the roof, hands in your pockets as you watch the swirling plethora of colors dissolve into darkness in front of you.

“how long have you been living here?” denki shakes his head, droplets of water hitting your skin and you release a small laugh, stepping away from him.

“about four years or so.. it’s nice, isn’t it?”

“yeah, it is. it’s.. always awake, you know?”

“oh yeah,” you chuckle, understanding what he means about the city, “always. there’re cars going at 3 in the morning all the time. so many places are open to eat, it’s nice they cater to people’s late night cravings.”

“true.” he looks up at the leafy branches in thought, “i like citylife. it’s kinda boring if everything’s slow paced and sleepy.”

the rippling lake water catches the sunlight, glittering in the late afternoon sun. the field’s light green and grassy, all flat except for the few lone apple trees that dot its surface.

“sometimes you have to step away from the city to really enjoy nature.” you stand up and grab a red apple off a lower branch, taking a bite and offering it to him.

“they’re sweet, y’know.”

denki gives a huff, “i know what apples taste like.” he bites into the fruit, humming at its taste. he hands it back to you and you take another bite, savoring the fresh, crisp taste.

you sit down beside him, tilting your head back to look up at the different branches above you. your hair’s still damp from the swimming, your skin dewy with droplets of water.

“should we go back in?” you question, looking out towards the lake.

“only if we’re skinny dipping.”

“it’s.. light out. you’re supposed to go in the dark.”

“so?” denki grabs your hand and brings you up, “come on, it’ll be fun!”

you lay back with a sigh, arms crossed behind your head as you stare up at the cloudy night sky, unable to see any constellations due to the clouds and city light.

the moon peeks out from behind the clouds, almost shy to reveal its full light.

a rush of sadness fills your chest and you move your feet, not wanting to remember the particularly painful memory made right here.

“you’ve been silent all night, denki. what’s up with you?” his hand finds yours and gives it a squeeze.

“i’m sorry.”

“for what?”

“for not telling you something i should’ve told you sooner.. i’m heading back to japan tomorrow.”

you don’t respond but your heartbeat quickens as you look up at the sky. “why are you going to japan, denki?”

“because.. i live there. i come here every summer from the beginning of june to the end of july with some friends.”

“so you won’t be able to...” your voice fades in realization.

“we can call and text! we both have phones, right?” he’s trying to be cheery.

“it’s not the same,” you say, voice suddenly strained, “you’re.. what, sixteen hours ahead of me? it wouldn’t work, it’d be inconvenient for both of us.”

“here, i have an idea. give me your phone.” he hands you his, which is open to the ‘create a new contact’ page; you do the same, now sitting up.

you type in your phone number and a small note, then hand it back to him.

denki seems quite invested in his typing; it takes him a few good minutes before he’s finished. “don’t open the note ‘til i’m gone, okay?”

it seems you’d never opened it. why not? you take out your phone to open it, reliving your last memory.

“call me, okay?” denki’s grinning again, giving you a tight hug before getting on the plane. you’re wondering why he’s so happy – it’s a facade, of course. smiling always fends off the tears, right?

when he’s about to pull away, he realizes how you’re not letting go, head buried in his neck. “denki, be safe. don’t forget anything on the plane, okay?” your voice is light and you’re trying to joke with him, but he can sense that unsteadiness.

he hugs you tighter, tears forming in his eyes. “i love you.”

a weak sob escapes your lips and the tears start rushing out of your eyes. “i love you too, please be careful.”

you hadn’t spoken to him since that morning – three weeks ago. why hadn’t you stayed in touch?

the note opens and you immediately read it, tears welling up in your eyes.

‘to y/n, the most amazing girl i’ve ever met.. i’ve enjoyed it all, from the most awkward morning of my life to the first time i’ve ever gone up on a roof with someone. it’s been really fun, i’m going to miss this. i get it if you don’t wanna stay in touch; it’s too painful sometimes, you know? but aside from our adventures, i’ve really enjoyed bonding with you as a person. you’re funny, sarcastic, and all around amazing. i love you - see you next summer.’

he was right in his message; it is too painful to stay in touch sometimes. you exit the contacts list, wiping at your eyes and smearing your makeup as you open the messaging app, beginning to type out a message,

hey, i miss you.

taglist // @sobaluvr​ @bbytamaki​ 

[butgilinsky]

3 fluff w tys 💖💓

3. When I find my peace of mind I’m gonna give ya some of my good time - Red Hot Chili Peppers (Soul to Squeeze)

it was a busy week, one where the two of you never seemed to be at the apartment at the same time for too long. with tyson’s hectic schedule and your job crunching numbers at the end of the month, both of you had been scrambling around to get things out together.

it wasn’t easy but the two of you had fallen onto a mutual agreement that you’d stick it out for the next week or so and you’d reassess at the end of all things chaos. it wasn’t easy and it wasn’t fun but the two of you were meant to beat all of the odds.

your shoulders felt heavier than they’d ever been by the time you got home, pushing the door open with your foot as soon as the lock clicked. you were holding your bag in the same hand whose arm was cradling a stack of files. your other was holding your keys now as well as a bag of food that was meant for you and tyson to share but the smell that you walked into led you to believe he beat you to the punch.

you rounded the corner and smiled at him sitting at the kitchen counter with a fork hanging out of his mouth while he typed something on his phone. he looked up at you, scrambling to get out of his chair and on his feet so he could take some of the things you were carrying out of your hands.

absent of the fork they once held, his lips dropped down to yours in a sweet kiss that had you chasing his lips just moments after. he hummed when you held him close to you, struggling to hold onto you with the stack of papers and files he now held onto.

“what was the for?” he asked with a teasing smile by the time you pulled away. his curls flopped a little and fell in front of his forehead, silently telling you he’d been home for hours and had already showered and made himself an entire meal.

“i just miss you.” he heard the exhaustion in your voice, the way that you pushed out a heavy sigh at the same times that your shoulders fell.

“well put all of your stuff down and go change. i don’t have to be up in the morning and if i’m not mistaken, neither do you.” an involuntary moan slipped past your lips at the realization that you’d be able to sleep in the next morning under the arm of your loving and caring boyfriend.

tyson took everything out of your hands and waited for you to disappear and come back in a fresh set of clothes that were far more comfortable than your pant suit. your hair was pushed out of your face that was now free of any makeup you once wore. with tyson standing in the kitchen, you walked up behind him and leaned into his back, wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing your cheek against his back. he leaned back into you slightly and rubbed his hand over your arms in an attempt to soothe you.

“baby you’re so tense.” you whimpered slightly which caught his attention and made him spin around, looking down at you with eyes bigger than the moon and a bottom lip forced out into a pout.

“it’s been such a long week.” his hands grabbed your cheeks while his lips pressed into your forehead. you relaxed at the simple touch, basking in the feeling of his curls tickling the top of your head and his fingers rubbing circles onto your temples.

when the microwave alerted that your food was newly heated up, tyson grabbed the plate from the fridge and tugged you into the living room with him. he sat behind you on the couch, legs on either side of you while his thumbs dug into the knots growing in your shoulders. you shouldn’t have felt the weight lifting off your shoulders so easily but you did, visibly relaxing under tyson’s touch.

“you just needed a few good rubs, huh?” you laughed gently at his implication. leave it up to tyson to find the perfect moment for teasing.

“specifically from you. they never work if they’re not from you.” he hummed at that and kissed the back of your head.

“i’m sorry things are hectic and i’m sorry that we’re not in sync right now. i promise that when I find some time and my peace of mind I’m gonna give you all of my good time.” your smile met your eyes as the words tumbled past his lips. you leaned back against his chest and hummed softly at the thought.

“now that sounds like a great time.” the laugh that filled your ears made it impossible for your heart not to soar.

“i love you so much.” you returned the sentiment, contemplating for a moment what you would ever do without him.

[adam-memeleri]

Sweet Talk

in this weeks edition of ayna deserved better: i started thinking about deep relationship ayna and uhhh... hnnghhhhhh ansnsjdksks

T Rating (just fluff and flirting lmao. and some language)

Ayna x MC (Kennedy)

~1k words

-

Soft music plays through a speaker resting on the countertop, notes floating through the apartment as Ayna’s hums swirl with them. She bounces on her feet, dancing lightly as she stirs a pot on the stove, ingredients scattered about.

“Look at you,” a laugh sounds from behind her, “Dancing Queen.”

A wide smile splits Ayna’s lips as she playfully swishes her hips, “I’ve got moves.”

Arms wrap around her from behind, squeezing tight as a chin lands on her shoulder. “Mmhmm,” Kennedy hums, their nose nuzzling into Ayna’s neck, “You’ve got more moves than anyone I know, babe.”

“You should get out more.”

Kennedy barks a laugh, “Hey!” releasing the woman in her arms to slouch against the counter instead.

“I’m just saying,” Ayna chuckles, tossing in spices.

“Besides, if I went out more I wouldn’t have nearly as much time to spend with my beautiful girlfriend,” Kennedy darts forward, pressing a light kiss to Ayna’s cheek.

“You make a convincing argument.”

“I always do.”

“Politicians,” Ayna snickers, “They’re all so sneaky.”

“And teaching assistants,” Kennedy’s head shakes in a tease. “They’re all so pretentious.”

Frowning, Ayna bumps her hip into Kennedy’s, “I thought you liked my pretentiousness.”

“I love your pretentiousness. I also love that you’re a better cook than me,” they dip their finger into a bowl, swiping some sauce and licking it off their finger.

“You just like the free food.”

“Well, duh,” Kennedy laughs brightly, grinning easily.

“Speaking of,” Ayna announces, drawing out the last word, “Done! Did you get the wine?”

“Yes ma’am,” Kennedy retreats, crossing to the opposite side of the kitchen where a bottle of wine rests. They tug open a cabinet and grab two wine glasses on the way, setting them down with a clink.

They set about uncorking the bottle, toying with it as Ayna turns her attention plating their dinner, throwing together all the different parts as neatly as she can. She takes forks from the silverware drawer, glancing over her shoulder as she rests them on the plates to find Kennedy walking towards the living room, hands full of wine.

Ayna follows, settling their meal on the coffee table as Kennedy passes a glass of wine. “Bone apple teeth,” they grin over the rim of their glass, their smile growing when Ayna laughs.

“Just eat your food.”

“Alright, alright,” Kennedy laughs, taking their plate as the pair on the couch fall into relative silence, the old sounds the scrapping of cutlery and the pouring of more wine.

---

Ayna presses her cheek further into Kennedy’s shoulder, humming as their fingers comb through her hair, toying with a dark lock occasionally. The couple’s sprawled out on the couch, music still humming somewhere in the apartment.

“Thank you for dinner,” Kennedy finally murmurs, breaking the stillness filling the living room.

Ayna shifts, her arm over Kennedy's waist tightening as she peers up at their face, the nearby lamp casting shadows. “Thank you for being here.”

“Thank you for being here," their finger pokes at her side, a sparkling smile breaking across their features. "Even with all the mess that is my life.”

“There is quite honestly nowhere I’d rather be,” Ayna hums, sinking back into their side.

“Nowhere? Really? Not even a tropical island?”

“Hmm. Maybe…”

Kennedy chuckles, fingers slipping back into dark tresses, “Well I for one would take a nuclear bunker with you over a Caribbean island any day.”

“Sweet talker.”

“Exactly how sweet are we talking? Candy corn or pure sugar?”

“Hmm,” Ayna hums contemplatively once more, considering carefully. “Chocolate?”

“Ooh, I could go for some chocolate."

“We have some in the pantry.”

Kennedy abruptly darts upright, Ayna jolting upwards with them as their eyes bulge out in their excitement, “We do?!”

She laughs, shifting into the back cushions, “I went to the shop yesterday and picked some up since you ate all of it.”

“Hey! You took the last of the strawberries last time, so we’re even.”

“Okay, okay.”

“Oh, wait!" Kennedy shouts out, jumping to their feet. "Chocolate-covered strawberries!” they weave quickly through the living room’s furniture and towards the kitchen without a backwards glance.

Ayna turns to watch them, her gaze following them as they disappear around a corner. “Will you at least share with me?” she laughs, calling after them.

Their head pops back around the corner, an amused grin on their lips, “You’ll get the first bite, promise.”

They dart from Ayna’s line of sight again, a few clatters sounding from the kitchen. Ayna’s lips pull into a smile as she stretches out on the sofa, settling into the cushions and chuckling beneath her breath when Kennedy swears, “For fuck’s sake…”

After a few minutes and several sounds of the microwave, they reenter, a platter held triumphantly above their head. “I did it!”

They slump back onto the sofa, crossing their legs and facing Ayna, the platter propped on their lap. Their fingers spin around the rim of a small bowl full of melted chocolate, strawberries with the tops cut off and toothpicks resting beside it.

“First bite, just for you.” Kennedy stabs one of the smaller strawberries and dips it in the melted chocolate, offering the stick to Ayna with a soft smile.

She takes it between her teeth, sliding the strawberry off the stick and biting into the fruit. Kennedy grabs their own, dunking it in chocolate and taking a big, eager bite.

“Is it as sweet as my talk?” they ask through a mouthful, chocolate dripping down their chin.

Ayna grins, swiping her thumb along their chin and sucking the chocolate from the pad of her thumb. “No. You’re still sweeter.”

Kennedy’s smile is soft, relaxed as they lean forward to press their lips to Ayna’s. She returns it, one hand raising to cup their cheek and urge them closer, a smile of her own curving her mouth.

Her forehead presses to theirs as they separate, dark eyes tracing their eyelashes and the thumb on their cheek drawing idle circles. “See? Sweet.”

[moonknightly]

and you keep me holding on : santiago “pope” garcia x reader (four)

Word Count: 5.3k

Excerpt: “He cries and he screams and he curses every higher power he can think of until his voice is strained with the effort. He bargains, he pleads. He prays, and then he curses again.”

Warnings: Blood, violence, gun violence, cursing, meh

[SERIES MASTERLIST] 

OCTOBER 20TH - DAY FOUR

The precinct is busier than usual when Santi walks in the following morning. There are twice as many people, twice as many noises, twice as many reasons for Santi to be annoyed.

So many FBI agents. So many sounds. It’s complete sensory overload.

He stops after taking only a few steps off of the elevator, shaking his head, trying his hardest to push his irritation down. He’d been livid when Cameron announced that she was no longer letting the squad work on the case, and he hadn’t been the only one to let their anger show, but if Santi is being completely honest, he knew it had been coming.

It didn’t make it any easier, though. It felt like giving up in a way, even though that was the last thing he was willing to do.

Giving up would never be an option.

And fuck, the idea that it would one day be expected of him made his blood boil.

Santi takes a couple of deep breaths. He lets his eyes fall shut for just a moment, willing himself to stay calm. He shakes his head once, twice, and then starts to move towards an empty desk Cameron was letting him use. He can hear bits and pieces of the different conversations going on around him as he walks, but he can’t bring himself to actually pay attention to what’s being said.

He plops himself down into his chair, and before he has even a moment to make himself comfortable, he feels someone come up behind him and stop just a few feet away. He twists in his chair, spinning it around to face whoever has decided to sneak up on him and was surprised to notice that it wasn’t one, but two people — both agents.

“Need something?”

Santi doesn’t mean to sound so sarcastic, and while one of the agents chuckles a little bit, the other looks rather unimpressed with his attitude.

The second one — the one wearing a glare that quickly morphs into a arrogant smirk — shoves his hands into his pockets and tilts his head curiously at Santi.

“Maybe.”

Yeah, he fucking hates this guy.

Santi waits for the agent to continue, but several seconds pass in silence and he can’t stop himself from slowly raising an eyebrow in question.

“Okay…” Santi mumbles, dragging out the “y”, still waiting.

“I’m Agent Barnes, and this is Agent Graves.”

Santi glances towards the other agent, Graves, who smiles gently at him and gives him a quick nod. He definitely likes this one better.

Barnes rocks back and forth on his heels, still smirking to himself as he says her name under his breath. “We’d like to talk to you about her disappearance, if that’s alright with you.”

Santi can’t help but flinch at the cold way in which Barnes says her name. He can tell the sudden movement piqued Barnes interest, but he isn’t about to explain himself, doesn’t feel the need to.

“Sure, I’d love to talk about my wife,” Santi responds, eyes narrowed and lips upturned into something that resembles a grimace.

Barnes takes a few steps forward and comes to lean against Santi’s desk while Graves stays where he’d been standing. Pope folds his arms across his chest.

“When was the last time you saw her?” Barnes asks, looking down at Santi, his eyes staying trained on his face. Santi holds his gaze, taking it like some sort of challenge almost.

He absolutely loathes the bastard.

“On the sixteenth. She stopped by after she left the hospital and I walked her downstairs.”

“And at what time was that?”

“At about eight,” Santi answers, shrugging his shoulders gently. He hadn’t been looking at the clock, he’d been looking at her.

“And why didn’t you go home with her?”

“I had a lot of paperwork and she was tired. I needed to stay and there was no reason for her to.”

Barnes nods his head once, seeming to think over the information Santi just gave him in a way that makes him roll his eyes again.

“And what time would you say you made it home that night?”

“You know, I’m starting to feel like this is an interrogation, not an interview. Look, I’ve already told all of this to-”

“It’s just a simple question.”

Santi is frustrated, because all of the times, all of the facts, they’re all written down in her file, and he’s positive that the agents had already looked through the notes.

“About fifteen minutes after midnight.”

The passive expression Barnes is sporting quickly morphs into a smirk — one that honestly makes Santi want to deck him but also makes him so sick to his stomach at the same time.

“How long does it usually take for you to get home?”

“Twenty minutes, give or take.”

“That’s funny.”

Santi furrows his eyebrows, ready to slam his hand down onto the desk and demand Barnes just get to the fucking point, but before he can even blink the agent is continuing on with his words.

“You scanned out of your office at eleven that night. Only twenty minutes home...”

No. There’s no fucking way he’s about to-

“That leaves almost an hour that you have unaccounted for.”

Santi is completely and utterly floored at what Barnes is implying. He can only stare in shock for several seconds, jaw slack, tips of his ears turning bright red as heat flooded his body.

“You think that I killed my wife.”

It isn’t a question, but rather a statement — a statement that Santi never imagined he would find himself saying. He scoffs and shakes his head in disbelief.

“We don’t-” Graves starts to say, but his partner quickly cuts him off, silencing him with a simple wave of his hand that only pisses Santi off even further.

“I didn’t say that,” Barnes says, voice lacking any distinguishable emotion.

Santi scoffs again and quickly stands, feeling like it gave him some sort of advantage even though he was several inches shorter than the other man.

“I would never do anything to hurt my wife.”

“I’m not saying that you did, but maybe,” Barnes starts, that damn smirk returning full force. “Maybe you and Nathan...”

“Okay, now you’ve gone too far,” Santi fumes, taking a step closer to Barnes, getting ready to wind his arm back so he can just-.

“Garcia,” Cameron calls out from where she’s standing, about ten feet away.

Santi hadn’t noticed her approach.

“Do you hear this bullshit? Did you hear-”

“Santiago,” she interrupts, effectively silencing him. She rarely calls him by his full name, and when she does, it was used as a form of comfort that Santi didn’t even know he needed until just now. He swallows the lump in his throat and glances towards his feet, trying to push his anger away, giving way to the shame at the fact that someone could ever think he’d hurt her.

“I wouldn’t hurt her. You know I wouldn’t do that.”

Cameron places her hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle yet firm squeeze like she’s done so many times recently. “I know.”

Of course she knows. Santi loves her more than any person had ever loved another. She is, and always will be, his entire world, his reason for getting out of bed in the morning and his reason for breathing, and Cameron can’t understand how someone could even insinuate that he might be involved in her kidnapping. Santi has a temper and that’s no secret to anyone, but he would never, ever do something to hurt his wife, not even in the midst of the most heated argument would he imagine laying a single finger on her.

“I wouldn’t.”

Santi looks towards Cameron with such hopelessness and desperation trapped in his irises. He’s pleading with her, begging her to just believe him. He’s convinced that she agrees with Barnes.

“We all know.”

She squeezes again, and after her words have a few seconds to settle in, it seems to be enough, at least for the moment.

Santi’s shoulders seem to relax, just a fraction, and he sucks in a sharp breath. He nods his head once, solemnly so, and mumbles something that sounds like an excuse under his breath before retreating towards the locker rooms. No one follows, he doesn’t want anyone to. He just needs a few seconds to himself, a moment to push the nausea and the nerves and the worry away, even though he knows they would only return.

What Santi really needs is for this to all just be some sort of twisted, fucked up nightmare.

What Santi really needs is her.

OCTOBER 21ST — DAY FIVE

Cameron makes Santi take the rest of the day off. He tries to argue with her, giving her the same reasons he had before, but nothing seems to convince her to let him stay. Ideally, she didn’t even want him to leave Jay’s apartment the next day either, and this time, he decides to just shut up and listen.

She wants him to sleep in until noon, watch as many movies as he possibly can, call his mother back, and actually eat something more than a few bites of whatever fast food or microwavable meal he’d been forced to buy.

Normally, Santi wouldn’t complain about doing any of those things, but today is different. He needs something to focus on that will keep his mind quiet. He feels that he needs a distraction today more than any other day so far.

Because today is their two year wedding anniversary, and he is losing his mind by doing nothing.

It’s just after six p.m., and he’d woken up at five in the morning with no possible chance of getting back to sleep. The TV is turned off, and Santi has no desire to stand up and find the remote, and even if he does turn something on, he knows he won’t be able to properly focus on it. The bagel he’d made that morning is still sitting half eaten on the coffee table, and he didn’t even bother to make himself lunch.

Nothing Cameron wanted him to do came even close to being done, but Santi just can’t bring himself to do anything other than play a word game on his phone.

But he knows that he needs to call his mother back. He still hasn’t spoken to her, and she’s still calling him a few times each day, leaving message after message each time she’s met with the familiar “beep” of his voicemail. His father had started to do the same, even going as far as to send him a text message that read “If we didn’t know any better, we would think you’re missing too”. He deleted it right after opening it.

He just needs to get it over with

Santi sighs gently, closing out of his game and pulling up his contacts, scrolling until he found his mother’s name. He hits the call button, his stomach flipping as he waits.

She answers after the first ring, the worry in her voice sounding in Santi’s ears, the guilt of not answering any of her hundreds of calls suddenly weighing on his shoulders. He didn’t mean to cause her any sort of panic or grief, but what did he think ignoring her calls would do, especially in a situation like this?

“Hey Mamá,” he mumbles into the phone, voice hoarse from not having used it all day.

The relief in his mother’s voice after she hears him speak instantly makes that guilt grow into something that nearly swallows him whole, and his chest tightens as he listens to her cry in what he hoped was ease after finally hearing from him and not hurt because she just now heard from him.

About five minutes pass before the conversation moves from Santi’s apparent inability to answer his phone to what he knows his mother has been calling about, and what has been the only thing on his mind for the last five days.

“Have you found anything?”

Santi feels a lump form in his throat, and he suddenly loses the ability to speak properly. This has been his reality for the better part of a week — talking about her and thinking about her every second of every day, which really isn’t any different from normal except for the fact that it now made his heart ache rather than fill him with joy.

He briefly tells his mother what happened in Princeton and Allentown, though he assumes she’d already heard. If you turned on the news for even two minutes, you would see her name and her picture flash across the screen, accompanied by Nathan’s, which never failed to make Santi’s rage blossom all over again.

“At least I know she’s alive,” Santi mutters after a brief pause where neither of them could find the right words to say, thinking back to the picture from the other day. “The amount of blood...Mamá, I was so fuckin’ scared that she was de-”

Santi’s voice cracks, and he can’t bring himself to finish his words. Saying that he’s afraid out loud is probably the most candid he’s been since the start of it all. He still hasn’t let himself cry, not really, but the one tear that fell down his cheek is all it took for the dam to break loose.

He pulls the phone away from his ear, but he doesn’t hang up. He simply lets it fall to the couch beside him as he brings his other hand up to his mouth, covering it as a broken sob passes his lips. His mother continues to listen on the other end, and her heart shatters for her son as well as his wife. She recounts an almost silent prayer just as Santi curses God’s name, and she can’t even bring herself to chastise him for using such language. She would’ve done the same if she were feeling even half of what Santi is.

All of Santi’s emotions continue to pour out of him in a violent downfall, like a storm that held no mercy, leaving a gaping hole in his chest that threatens to swallow him whole. He cries and he screams and he curses every higher power he can think of until his voice is strained with the effort. He bargains, he pleads. He prays, and then he curses again. His mother listens the entire time.

Several minutes pass like this, and once he’s sure that there are no more tears left for him to cry, after he feels like he would pass out if he shed even one more, he picks the phone back up slowly, though he stays completely silent. After several seconds, his mother says his name gently.

“I’m here,” he mumbles, no emotion left in his voice at all.

His mother seems to be thinking about her words, choosing them carefully as to not upset him any further. “Maybe you should think about coming home for a few days.”

Santi doesn’t respond, and after another moment spent in silence, she speaks again. “You know, I just don’t think you should be alone tonight…”

“You remembered,” he grumbles quietly, his voice hardly audible.

“Of course I did Santiago, but regardless of whether it’s your anniversary or not, maybe you just-”

“You know what Mamá,” he interrupts, cutting her off. “I, uh — I actually have plans tonight.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, Jay just got this new video game and we were gonna order a pizza or somethin’ for dinner,” he lies, though there was absolutely nothing in his tone to give him away. “I won’t be alone, promise.”

She seems to accept his answer, and doesn’t question him any further. She even sounds slightly enthusiastic about it, saying that it sounds like the kind of distraction Santi needs. He has to physically bite his tongue in order to keep himself from scoffing.

They say their goodbyes shortly after, and Santi throws his phone onto the couch cushion beside him, a deep sigh escaping his lips as he stares at the floor for what feels like an hour when it was probably only two minutes.

He and Jay don’t have any plans.

There’s no video game, no pizza. He feels slightly bad for lying to his mother, but a larger part of him just wants to save her the worry and trouble.

He quickly stands from the couch and switches out his sweatpants for a pair of jeans, but can’t find the effort to change out of his old PT sweatshirt, the one she always stole from him. He runs his fingers through his hair, not bothering to style it. He hasn’t shaved in a few days and he’s sporting a decent beard that he knew she would love.

He grabs his wallet and the spare key Jay’d given him, picked up his phone and sent him a text, also lying to him about his location and his plans, and set out the door.

Not ten seconds pass before Jay is texting him back, telling Santi they’d caught a case and he wouldn’t be home until later that night anyways.

Santi doesn’t think twice about it, and simply shoves his phone into his pocket before heading to the subway.

Their apartment is dark when Santi arrives a half hour later. He doesn’t bother to flip on the light in the entryway, and takes a moment to just stand there, his back against the wooden door, fingers tracing each groove.

It almost feels normal, like any other day. It feels like Santi had just gotten off work for the night and he’s taking a moment to decompress before he would make his way to the bedroom, where he would find her curled up under the sheets, her head on his pillow as she waited for him to come home to her.

But she always made sure that the lamp in the living room was on for him, and she had a habit of leaving the TV running until he got in. Neither are on, and only silence and darkness and solitude surround him.

Santi kicks his shoes off by the door before pushing away from it, taking a few tentative steps into the apartment. The room is slightly illuminated from the glittering lights of Manhattan, just enough for Santi to see around the outlines and shapes of things. It’s strange — everything looks the same, smells the same, but it feels so completely different. So completely foreign.

Lifeless.

A few things are out of place, like the blanket they kept on the back of the couch, now on the floor, and the couple of books they kept stacked on the coffee table are shifted a few inches to the left. Santi folds the blanket and puts it back in its place, moves the books back, and then walks slowly into the bedroom.

The smell of her perfume instantly hits him upon entering, and he has to grip the doorframe to keep himself from stumbling backwards. He sways on his feet, and closes his eyes for just a moment, taking a deep breath to, hopefully, steady himself as he reaches to his right to flip on the light. He keeps his eyes tightly shut for another moment before slowly opening them to finally take in his surroundings.

The bedroom is far worse than the main living area. The pillows from the bed are tossed to the floor, the sheets and comforter twisted together in a knot that Santi knew he would struggle to get out. There’s a small strand of yellow police tape on the floor that Santi doesn’t understand why it’s there, as they had only blocked the front door with it. Both of their bedside drawers are still pulled open, and he can see that the bathroom light is still on.

The bathroom.

Santi moves without intending to do so, and he feels his feet carry him towards their ensuite almost as if he’s on autopilot. He reaches the threshold in just a few short seconds, and at first, his brain doesn’t exactly process what he’s seeing, doesn’t fully make the connection and he only stands there, confused and bewildered.

No one’s been by to clean up yet, and blood still covers every surface Santi chooses to set his eyes on, only now, it’s dry, and more brown than it is red. The shower curtain had been taken away by the crime scene techs, as had the bathmat and the various hand towels that had been covered in crimson. Santi is almost positive that there isn’t as much glass on the floor as there had been before, which made sense — the techs would have taken some of it as well. But the floor and the walls and the counter...it looks like the kind of murder scene one would see in a grotesque horror film.

There’s even a handprint on the side of the tub that Santi knows belonged to himself. He’d used the tub to hold himself up, to keep himself from collapsing further after falling to his knees. He looks towards the cabinet under the sink to find a second handprint, right where he knew it would be. He had caught himself there, too.

He stands in the doorway for what must have been five minutes at least, staring at the blood and the glass and the wreckage, and he feels absolutely nothing. If anything, he feels completely and utterly numb to it all. Part of him can’t believe that what he’s looking at is real, and the other part won’t allow his brain to connect the dots.

He knows it’s her blood, in their cozy little apartment in Manhattan, and yet, he still feels like he’s standing in the middle of any old crime scene, where any old victim had been murdered by their enraged boyfriend. He’d seen it so many times before, back when he was a detective. It doesn’t seem any different now.

He tries to make sense of it in his head, tries to use sound logic and the knowledge of what he’d learned in his psychology classes throughout college to figure out why he’s feeling the way that he is, but nothing made sense. He just feels so entirely disconnected.

Another few minutes pass before Santi is finally able to turn his gaze away from the carnage. A small bout of nausea hits his stomach, but he chooses to ignore it. He’s learned that if he doesn’t pay attention to it, the less likely he is to lose what little his stomach holds at any given time. He wipes a stray tear away from his cheek, one he wouldn’t have noticed if the cool air from the vent hadn’t hit his face, and steps away from the bathroom.

His next destination is the closet. Nothing in there has been touched or moved to his knowledge, and for some reason, he feels comfort in that. He sighs gently and grabs an empty bag from the corner. This time, he’s more careful when choosing what clothes he would bring with him, because he has no plans on returning to the apartment anytime soon, not without a stack of moving boxes and a U-Haul at the very least. He decides right then and there that he’s breaking the lease early and finding somewhere else to move immediately. Just having the apartment in his name makes his skin crawl and he wants out, wants nothing to do with it. And not only that, but as well as he knows his wife, he knows that if-

When they find her, she won’t want to be anywhere near the apartment.

But he also knows that there’s a part of her that will want to keep it just to prove a point, to show that she’s more than what had been done to her, and the thought of that makes him smile just a tiny bit.

“Stubborn ass,” he mumbles under his breath, a small, sad chuckle following just after.

He needs to get out of there.

Santiago gathers all of the clothes he figures he’ll need and turns to leave the closet when his eyes catch a familiar flash of gray, just like they had five nights before.

Nevada is still where Santi had dropped him, just lying on the floor, forgotten. She would’ve been so upset had she seen him just tossed aside like that, and that thought also causes Santi to grin to himself. She loves that damn wolf more than anything, would often swear that she loves him more than she loves Santi but he’s always thought it was so adorable how attached she was to the stuffed animal that he doesn’t even mind. She’d always treated Nevada as if he were a living, breathing thing.

He walks over to him, gently kneeling down to take him into his hands, his smile growing slightly as he feels the matted “fur” against his fingertips.

Santi slowly flips Nevada over, finding that her rings are still shoved onto the tail, just like they had been before. At first, he didn’t think that he would find them there, and he can’t exactly explain to himself why. He gently pulls them off, letting the cool metal settle in the palm of his hand.

All he can do is stare at them for several seconds, and it feels as if a rock settles and grows in the pit of his stomach the longer he he holds them. He closes his fist around the two rings, mumbling something that sounds like a promise — a promise that he’ll find her, and that he’ll bring her justice no matter the outcome — before shoving them into the pocket of his jeans.

He glances at his own wedding band for a moment, sitting on his ring finger, the silver glistening in the light, just like it had every single day since they said “I do”.

Two whole years to the day.

He’d planned to take her away for the weekend to celebrate their anniversary. It was supposed to be special, romantic, just the two of them alone in Boston without a care in the world. He’d had it planned for months now.

Does she know what day it is, wherever she is? Does she remember, or even realize how many days have passed?

Fuck that. Santi hates himself for even wondering, because it made him feel so completely selfish.

And he hates himself even more when he reaches to slide his wedding band off of his finger.

He failed her, he doesn’t deserve to wear it. He doesn’t deserve to call himself her husband.

When-

If they find her — which also makes Santi hate himself, because he’s beginning to pay attention to the numbers and the statistics and he’s starting to look at it as a recovery instead of a rescue — will she even want to still be married to him?

Will she still love him? Or will she hate him for letting this happen to her?

He slowly drops his hand, leaving the band on his ring finger. He’s sure he’ll never be able to take it off. Even if he never sees her again, he was sure the band will remain on his finger until he’s rotting in the ground (like he deserved, but he pushed the thought away, not wanting to wallow in his own self loathing).

He will always be her husband, unless she explicitly tells him that it’s no longer what she wants.

Santi shakes his head and tries to turn his brain off. He doesn’t want to think about that right now.

He shoves Nevada into his bag, zips it close, and makes his way out towards the foyer. He turns off every light in the apartment before leaving, locking the door behind him without looking back once. He can’t stand to be in there any longer, not liking where his mind is headed while standing in the middle of all that had once been theirs.

He arrives back at Jay’s shortly after, expecting him to still be gone on whatever case he’d been talking about, surprised when he finds the other detective standing in the middle of the living room. It looks as if he’d been pacing, his hands on his hips and a blank expression on his face that Santi can’t read.

“What’s up?” Santi asks, throwing his bag onto the floor by the door, deciding he would worry about finding a spot to put it away later.

Jay stays silent for close to a minute, seeming to be lost in thought before he finally speaks, voice low and eyes looking everywhere but at Santi. His tone sounds cold yet so full of emotion at the same time.

“Nathan emailed you a video tonight. Your account is being monitored and we intercepted it before you could see it.”

Santi’s blood runs cold, and he feels frozen in place. He wants to ask Jay what it is, but he can’t make himself speak, doesn’t remember how to use his voice. Instead, he just swallows the lump that had formed in his throat and looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to continue.

It takes Jay several seconds to speak again, and when he finally does, Santi is sure that he would’ve preferred for him to just stay fucking quiet.

“Santi, Nathan shot her.”

Jay has tears in his eyes, and Santi still can’t move. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t fucking move move. Can’t speak, can’t think, can’t process the other man’s words. He can’t do anything.

“They’re working on tracing the email but we...the FBI said they have enough reason to believe that she’s-”

Jay can’t bring himself to finish his sentence, but Santi understands. He understands perfectly, though he wished he didn’t.

Nathan shot her, and they have enough reason to believe it was fatal.

But it doesn’t sit right with Santiago.

Something about it feels off, feels wrong. He was sure he would’ve felt something in his gut, like people say they do in books and movies when someone they care about is hurt or in trouble. But then again, he hadn’t felt anything out of the ordinary when she had been taken. But if she had been killed, he was almost certain he would have felt something — some instinct in the back of his mind, anything.

“She’s not,” Santi snaps, voice hard with emotion though it broke on the last word at the same time. “She’s not dead.”

“Santi,” Jay chastises sternly, exasperation evident in his voice.

“She’s not dead.”

“You didn’t see the video!” Jay yells, sliding his hand down his face as the pain and anger takes over his entire body. “You didn’t see it and you should be thankful that you didn’t have to.”

It’s obvious that what Jay had seen in the video traumatized him, and was enough to make him think for himself that she’s dead, but Santi just can’t accept it. He doesn’t know if it’s the denial talking, or if what he’s feeling is actually real, but after repeating himself for a third time, he feels the world come crashing down around him, he feels everything stop.

Santi’s knees give out, and he crumples, eyes rolling into the back of his head. Jay catches him before he can hit the floor.

Everything is black.

Santi’s heart, his world — it’s nothing but black.

[holycrapharry]

Hot Noodles

Y/N takes out her extremely hot container of noodles out of the microwave and hurries over to the break room table. Her body collides with another and the cup of noodles goes flying, landing on Marcus’ feet. “Nice one, Harry. Could you watch where you’re going and not bump into people for once?” Y/N rolls her eyes at him and brings her attention to Harry, who unfortunately has a stray noodle dangling from his glasses.

“I’m so sorry, are you alright? Like did I burn you?” He shakes his head and sheepishly grins. “You sure you’re alright?” She stands and reaches for some paper towels.

He brushes off the noodles and he even laughs at the one hanging from the frames of his glasses. “Yeah, I keep spare shirts in my car. When you’re clumsy like me, you have to be prepared.”  He helps her clean up the mess and even offers to get her more noodles. He was sweet.

She always found Harry cute, she never understood why the other women in the office or labs didn’t think so. He was so smart and witty. He even knew how to laugh at himself. He had big dimples and nice hands and, “Harry, do you have a tattoo?” She has no idea why she never noticed before. He had this habit of spinning his mug around while he read, she had watched him so many times and never noticed.

He looks down at his hand and unbuttons the wrist of his sleeve, rolling it upwards. “I have a lot actually. The hand one is a bit hard to hide.” He looks back at Y/N and sees that she’s either confused or maybe even intrigued. “Not a lot of people know that I have them, work attire and all that keeps them covered.”

She blinks and looks back at his face, still not understanding the things the woman in the place say about him. “I would’ve never have guessed.”

He pushes the glasses up the bridge of his nose, “Guessed I had tattoos?” She nods and he smirks at her, “I bet a lot of people here wouldn’t either.” She stares at him for a few moments and he clicks his tongue, “Well, I’m gonna go get that shirt. Um, I’m sorry about your noodles.”

As Harry leaves, Lilly walks in and takes a glance and his wet shirt. “What happened? Did Harry spill his food again.”

Y/N rolls her eyes for the second time, “No, I accidentally ran into him with my lunch.” She opens a yogurt and sits at the table with Lilly. She doesn’t know why but the thought of Harry covered in tattoos makes her smile.

“Do you have the hots for Harry?” She refuses to answer and Lilly laughs, “Oh my god, do you?” Y/N just looks at her and eats her yogurt. “Y/N, he’s not exactly dating material.”

She snorts and gives her a glare, “Why not? Why do people think he’s like this, this weirdo?”

Her gossip loving coworker scoots her chair closer and begins to whisper. “Do you not know about his little run in with Maya?” She shakes her head ‘no’ and Lilly continues, “Well, she knew Harry in college and said that his sister would always bring him to parties. You know, to like, get him to go out and stuff. She saw him at a party one night and one thing leads to another and they ended up in one of the rooms.” Y/N suddenly is no longer interested in the story but there’s no stopping Lilly when she gets started, “She said that Harry had no idea what he was doing so she grabbed his hand and put it down her pants. He apparently didn’t have a clue what was what and she ended up leaving him in the room all hard and stuff.” Lilly takes a sip of her coffee as if the story was the usual business conversation.

Y/N licks the spoon and furrows her brows, “So, the people in this office are forming their opinion because of a party hook up gone bad?” Lilly shrugs and adds more sugar to her drink.

“I guess but I mean, his clumsiness and constant talk about chemical evaporation don’t help.” She leaves Y/N alone at the table and waves a quick bye so she can hurry back to her files, or talk someone else’s ear off.

For the rest of the work day, she can’t stop herself from thinking about Harry and his tattoos. Does he have more? Does he still not know what’s what down there? Who cares? She can teach him, she could show him so many – “Hey, Y/N.” She jumps from her thoughts and almost knocks her cup of pencils over, “Oh, sorry.” Harry’s face is his classic look of guilt and it makes her sad. He’s always so nice and no one ever really talks to him.

“Um, it’s fine. Is- is there something you need?” He leans against the door frame and flips through a notebook and lands on his desired page.

“I was told that you could help me look up these files. They don’t authorize us to access to the journals anymore.” She knows if he did, he would stay up all night, reading and soaking up all the knowledge he could.

She smiles and holds her hand out for the notebook, “Do you need them right away or do you want me to give them to you at other time? It could take a bit depending when they’re from.”

He straightens his posture and fiddles with his watch, “I don’t want to make you rush. I just need them by Next Wednesday.”

“I’ll have them on Monday.” They both smile and He thanks her awkwardly lingering before he leaves.

Later that evening Y/N joins a few friends for a much needed night out. Her hair is down and her legs are bare. She feels good and you know what, she’s lookin’ pretty good too. “You know that the bartender hasn’t stopped looking at you ever since we got here?”

She looks at her friend, Niall, and back at the bar, trying to spot him. “Well, I can’t see him. Maybe he’s looking at you and thought the tip you left him was you bein’ a flirt.” Niall rolls his eyes and takes a gulp of his beer.

“If I was into guys, I don’t think he’d be my type. I’m not a fan of tattoos, you know?” Y/N’s almost chokes on her drink and Niall laughs at her, “Too much at once, love?”

She takes another look at the bar but can only see the top of the bartender’s head, “Does the bartender have glasses?” He shakes his head as he eyes a girl who walks by. He turns back to Y/N and she waves him off, “Go ahead you animal.” She plays with her straw and keeps her eye on the bar, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. There’s no way it could be Harry, why on earth would it be? Millions of people have tattoos and Harry, in a place like this? No way.  She takes another sip of her drink but is greeted by that annoying slurping sound.

For some reason, she argues with herself to walk over to the bar. ‘This is so silly’, she thinks to herself. She moves through the crowd and finds herself and empty stool. She messes around her clutch for cash and gets ready to order another drink. The elusive bartender’s back is turned to her but she can see a few tattoos on the back of his arm, a skull, two hands shaking and some words but she can’t make out what they say.

She looks back over to the tables and tries to see if she can spot Niall, she’s sure he’s off at that girl’s apartment by now. When she turns back, she sees that the bartender is walking towards her but his head is down, fiddling with a hand towel. When he looks up, her heart flutters and she’s certain she might as well have been drooling. “Hi.” It really was Harry but he just doesn’t look like harry. He’s not wearing glasses, he’s not wearing a button up, his hair isn’t even fixed like it usually is. He’s wearing a white T-shirt, thin enough to see that he really is covered in tattoos and these tight as hell black jeans. When she doesn’t respond he coughs and asks, “Do you want another?”

Her cheeks flush and she looks back to his face. “Um, yeah. The same, please.” He grabs a new glass and eyes the crowd.

“Just the one drink, then?” Y/N tilts her head, confused as to why she needs a third drink when she hasn’t even finished making her second. “For the guy you’re with.”

“Oh, no. He’s just one of my friends I came out with tonight.” Harry tries to suppress a smile as he mixes her drink. “So, I have to ask. Why is Harry Styles, the cute clumsy chemist, working at a bar?”

Her question takes him by surprise, he’s not often complimented. He hands her the fruity drink and leans forward on the bar, looking all over her face but her eyes. “My sister and her husband own it and the tips don’t hurt.” She notices that he seems nervous and he’s trying to hide the fact that he’s blushing.

“Harry, do you ever ask out the people you see here?” He shakes his head no and begins to pick at the thread of the towel and she tries her hardest to make him more comfortable. “Can I ask you a question? You can say no, I won’t be offended but, um, do you wanna come home with me?”

His eyes finally find hers and he almost drops the towel. He looks down the bar and sees that the others have the rest of the customers handled. “I-I’m off at midnight.”

She smiles and is a lot more excited than she meant to be, “Is that a yes?” Harry nods and smiles at her. That smile is enough to kill her.

Once Harry is free, he calls them a cab and argues with Y/N that he’s paying for it. When they arrive at her house, he rubs his eyes and sniffles, “You have so many flowers.” She pulls out her key and also a handkerchief. She hands him the embroidered cloth and smiles. “You’re the only woman under 60 I’ve ever seen with a hanky.”

“I’m just always prepared. Pippy get down!” Y/N pats a little fluffy dogs head and Harry immediately picks her up, letting her lick his face.

“So, your names Pippy, eh? You’re cute and tiny. Like a little walking pillow, yes.” Y/N laughs at him and he’s brought back to reality. “Oh, sorry. I can’t have pets at my apartment.” He lets Pippy scamper off and stands awkwardly by the front door.

“Um, let’s just sit. There’s good stuff on HBO this month if you wanna watch something.” Harry follows her to the couch and she kicks off her shoes, making herself more comfortable. She smiles at him and scoots closer, grabbing his arm and resting a hand on it. “I didn’t know you had this many tattoos.”

He grins and shows his dimples, “I like people not knowing something about me.”

Y/N whispers to herself, “You’re so cute.”

“What?” He touches the bridge of his nose, undoubtedly a habit he has from wearing his glasses.

Crap. “Oh, I said you were cute but I didn’t mean for you to hear it.”

“I think you’re cute but I want you to hear it.”

Y/N sighs and nods her head, “Alright.” She swings her leg over his lap and puts her hands on his shoulders. “I have to kiss you or you might say something great and I’ll die or something.”

He doesn’t hesitate to respond, “Okay.” He surprises her with a very passionate kiss. His tongue slips between her lips and her body almost goes limp. His lips are so soft and she can taste a hint of alcohol. She has no idea how long they were kissing but she can feel him harden under her, which turns her on even more. Her hand grips the front of his shirt, pulling the neck down some and reveals a bird.

“Can I take off your shirt?” He whispers a yes and raises his arms. When the shirt is removed she’s welcomed with a butterfly just as beautiful as he is. Her fingers trace the wings and she kisses each one of the birds on his collar bones. “When did you get them done?”

“I started getting them right at 18. The birds were some of the firsts. This is the newest one,” He points to his right forearm and she examines it like a piece of art. “You like them?” He makes his first bold move and plays with the hem of her dress that’s bunched on over her thighs. He knows that if he were to bring a hand around her back, that her bottom would be fully exposed.

She smiles and cutely lifts his left arm, looking at the ones hidden under his bicep, she giggles when she notices more on his rib cage, running her finger along those as well. He shifts a little and bites his lip, “How on earth did you get these if you’re ticklish?”

His hands rests around her hips now, so comfortable in their conversation that neither of them even notice at first, “I don’t know. It’s a weird feeling, it hurts but kind of feels good.” She didn’t expect that kind of answer but is definitely pleased with it. “Do you want any?”

Y/N laughs and pokes at his dimple, “I already have one.”

“Oh, you do? Where?” He suddenly moves her arms up, and almost pulls her dress up out of excitement but he stops himself. He doesn’t want her to think he’s just interested in seeing her body.

“Just do whatever you feel like, ok?” Harry swallows and nods. His heart begins to beat fast and he slowly pulls the dress over her head. The way her hair falls back and the softness of her skin is almost enough for him to burst out of his shorts. Her bra is gray and her underwear is a pale pink. His hands gently graze her hips, then her waist. “Move your left hand up about two inches.” He obliges and looks at her when she says nothing else. “Congratulations, young man! Move your hand to find your prize!” He wishes that everyone was a little bit like her. She’s sweet and goofy, and certainly doesn’t judge people by what others say. Harry moves his hand and cranes his neck to see her tattoo.

He brushes his thumb on her inked skin, “A light bulb?” His touch gives her visible goosebumps and he hopes taking the dress off didn’t make her cold, he hopes that it’s all him. “Can I know why?”

She moves further up his lap and rests her hand on the back of his neck, making his cheek involuntarily lean against her arm. “When I was a little girl, my dad bought me one of those kits where you could turn on a light bulb with a potato. Seeing that light go off, made the little light in my head go off, I guess.” Harry watches her face and just like that he feels something bubble up inside him. “After that, I couldn’t stop taking things about and my parents go so mad at me. On my 15th birthday, they let me build my own computer. And that’s that, really, a little light bulb made me obsessed with computers.”

He polity waits until she’s finished to kiss her arm, “Please, kiss me.” Y/N grasps the sides of his face and she kisses him softly. His hands roam her back and linger over the fabric of her bra. He wasn’t exactly experienced but he knows that there’s supposed to be a clasp there.

Her hands get lost in hair while she moves away from his mouth and leaves kisses on his neck. He can’t seem to open his eyes and becomes painfully aware of how hard he is. “The clasp is in the front.”

Harry brings his hands to her front, grazing her breasts along the way to the clasp, He feels the warm skin spring free against his hands and everything becomes fuzzy. Harry has this beautiful girl on top of him and she wants him just as much as he wants her. She then sits up straight, giving him a full view of her topless self. She grabs his hands and places them where his eyes are glued. The moment he feels her hard nipples on his palms, his dick jumps underneath her. “M’sorry.” Her hands make a squeezing motion atop of his, letting him know that he’s free to explore.

“You don’t have to be sorry for how your body responds.” Her hands slide down to his wrists, his arms, then fall to his stomach to give her leverage to rock her hips. He lets out a small moan and she does it again. “The point of it all is to make each other feel good, don’t hold back.”

Harrys hand fall and come around her backside, pulling her harder against him and allowing her chest to fall in front of his face. He kisses her nipple and before sucking it into his mouth, he whispers, “I won’t.” His sucking is gentle but wet. The tight grip he has he her ass makes both of them wish they were naked. He’s never been so forward but her body, and just everything about her as more intriguing than anyone else’s. He wanted to please her, he wanted her to feel so good and he wasn’t nervous if he wasn’t very good. She would show him; she would show him how she wanted it. His mouth leaves her chest but her hands never leave his hair, “Where’s your room?” If it were possible, her heart would beat even faster. His arms hook her thighs and he gets up from the couch, carrying her down a hall. “Which is it?”

She answers him through kisses, “The last one on the right.” He arrives in her bedroom, smiling as he lays her on the bed. He settles on her side and his finger runs up and down between her breasts. “I have two questions.” His palm rests flat against her tummy, waiting for her question. “One, how come you don’t wear your glasses at the bar?”

Harry shrugs and taps his fingers against her skin, “it’s easier to make the drink when you don’t have glasses to clean. What’s the other?”

Y/N leans up on her elbows, looking much more serious than before, “Is that thing about Maya true?” She feels like an ass for asking the question but is taken by surprise when his body moves on top of hers.

“In a sense.” He moves a stray hair away from her eyes and kisses her cheek, “That night was the first time I ever drank, and the first time a girl ever gave me attention other than helping her study. I was buzzed and what Maya left out about the story was that she had gotten her period and I didn’t know what to say to her. So she left me there and told everyone I didn’t know what I was doing.” His hand travels down her belly and into her underwear to dip a finger into her wet folds. “Let’s find out if I do,” he nuzzles her ear and groans, “Please, how do you like it?”

Her mouth is suddenly very dry and she feels like she’s floating. Not once has a man asked her that and she’s not sure if she knows how to answer it. “Just move slowly. I like it up and down.” He watches her as his middle finger rubs her. Her lips are parted and her eyes are closed, her skin is flushed as well.

“Y/N, I think you’re beautiful.” His sweet whisper is just as good as the workings of his finger. “I think you’re one of the most beautiful creations that I’ve ever had the pleasure of studying.” Something about that makes her body tingle.

“God, Harry. I have a-another question.” He only nods and she takes a moment to continue. “How far have you gotten with a girl?” His kisses halt but his finger continues.

“I’m not a virgin if that’s what you’re asking.” She wouldn’t believe him if he said he was.

Now it’s her turn to avoid eye contact, “Then how longs it been?”

“More than I care to say.”

“Was it the one time?” He fails to answer and she turns her head to meet his, “I’m sorry if I’m embarrassing you. I just, I like you and I’m curious. Why isn’t happening to you all the time? You’re so smart. You’re sweet and so gorgeous that I could just fucking explode right now. I don’t understand how people don’t want to get in your bed every night.”

“I don’t mind it. It got me a close to you. It let me know you more, let me see that you’re even more beautiful than I thought.” He shows off his dimples again.

“Jesus Christ, people are idiots.” He removes his hand from her underwear and kisses her, very passionately at that. He ends up between her legs and enjoys the feeling of her thighs against his waist. The slightest bit of pressure on his cock causes him to wince and Y/N takes notice. “Do you need to take your pants off? I mean, they’re insanely tight, you can’t be comfortable.” He takes a deep breath and stands, wiggling out of his jeans. When he climbs back on the bed, he springs free and she literally throbs. “Are you for real?”

Harry looks around the room and back to her, “What?”

She whispers like she shouldn’t even say it out loud, “You have a big dick.”

He whispers back, “Thanks. I was born with it.” She narrows her eyes at him and he smiles at her. “Why are we whispering?” She only shrugs. He continues his whispering tone and moves close to her, “I want to touch you again.” His fingertips rest at the top of her underwear and he can see her skin pebble, “I want to see what you taste like.”

Y/N lets out something close to a whimper and sighs, “Oh my god.”

“Is that a ‘yes’ oh my god or a ‘no thanks’ oh my god?” his fingers still linger above the hem of the thin fabric and it’s enough to make her scream.

She exhales and can’t help but feel a bit faint, “Its oh my god, yes.” She can’t get it through her mind that Harry was this, this polite brilliant man who is somehow not good with ladies, but he is good with ladies because he’s making her feel like she’s all he wanted and he opened her up on Christmas morning. It doesn’t make sense.

Harry clears his throat and slides down to her stomach, pausing just below her belly button. He positions himself between her legs and stops once again, “Should I, uh, take these off or just move them to the side?”

“Whatever you want.” He hooks his fingers into the band and tugs them off. He finally gets a full few of her. She’s wet and he can tell that she’s swollen. He’s only attempted to do this one other time but it didn’t work out. She got cold feet cause her roommate would be home soon and ‘I don’t want you to know we do things.’ He figures that Y/N has had someone do this for her, why wouldn’t they, look at her.

He bumps his nose against her clit by accident but he doesn’t apologize because the way she just gripped the blanket lets him know it was good. He’s too nervous to use his actual tongue at first, so he begins kissing her. He places small kisses onto her slit, feeling the wetness underneath his lips. He ends up getting her so worked up with kisses alone that her hips rise a bit. “Can you put this leg on my shoulder? I can… Get to you more, I think.” Her thigh rests on his shoulder and his hand caresses it while he continues. He keeps kissing her but his time, he kisses her like they kissed on the couch. His tongue starts off soft and feels the little nub. His lips open wider and those gentle pecks become more aggressive, assertive.

He flattens his tongue on her clit and makes a movement that she can’t describe, “Fuck, do that again.” He does and wants to smile at her reaction. He then licks deeper and much harder than previously. She catches his head moving and sees his wet tongue working magic on her. She moans and even says his name. “Harry, Harry are you sure you’re not lying about being good with girls because Jesus fucking Christ if they knew you could do this.”

He doesn’t want to stop but he wants to see her face, he wants to feel how fast her heart is beating. He drags himself up to her face and kisses her before she can even say anything. He wonders if she likes the way she tastes in the same way he does but can’t be bothered to ask. “I don’t care if they know. I’m with you right now.” Y/N smiles and kisses him.

“I wanna do something for you.” He makes a ‘Hmmph’ sound while he kisses her more. “Do you want me to touch you?” He halts his mouth and actually looks into her eyes. “I could touch you, I could use my mouth, we could, we could have sex.” How does Harry make her this way and no one else? They’re blind.

He inhales and bites his lip. How do you answer a question like that? He looks at her with these big green sad eyes and closes them. “What if I- what if you don’t get to finish?”

Her hand soothes Harry’s doubt with a hand in his hair, “If it helps, you already got me close with your mouth, it won’t take much for me to come.” She kisses his forehead and continues, “I just want to make you feel good, Harry.” She tells him to reach over to her nightstand and get a condom.

He takes off his shorts and rolls it on himself. He lingers between her legs for a moment but feels comforted once again by her delicate hands in his hair. He slowly enters her and his mouth falls open. Her grip on his shoulder tightens and she loses her breath. “Are you alright, love?”

If her lower half wasn’t so overwhelmed at the moment she would’ve swooned at the sweet nickname. She nods and feels him go deeper. She’s already pulsing from the excitement and she groans loudly with her head back. “Get on your back, I wanna make you come.” With Harry on his back, she places his hands on her hips and her nails dig into his chest. She begins to rock on top of him, feeling him hit every spot. “You feel so good.” Y/N seems to be talking to herself rather than to him. She moves faster and he begins to pant beneath her.

He moans and pulls her chest flush against him, matching her thrusts. He’s taken her by delightful surprise and she feels her orgasm almost instantly. “Put your hands in my hair again.” Her hands fly to his wild hair and her breasts give him the perfect opportunity to suck on them.

He bites into her skin and it makes her squeeze around him, “I’m gonna come.” He flips her on her back and gives it all he has. With a hand on the headboard and the older on her hip, he goes as deep and hard as he can. He watches her unravel under him. “Harry.” Her voice is shaky and quiet but it’s music to his ears.

“Just give me a little more. God, please.” Her legs wrap around his waist and a little ‘uh’ escapes her mouth each time he brings his hips into her. She’s completely wrapped around him and he doesn’t think anything has ever felt so good. “Do that thing.” She squeaks to question him and he kisses her forehead, “Squeeze around me.” She clenches and his head falls to her neck. She can feel him pulse inside her and his hand is so tight on her hip that it’s sure to be red after. Harry makes a grunting sound and a part of him doesn’t want to move. “That’s surely to kill me next time.” He hears her giggle and faces her, “What?”

“You wanna have a next time?” He matches her smirk and lays his head on her chest. Her fingers twirl the short hair on his head and Harry can’t stop smiling to himself.

He sweetly kisses the warm skin below her collar bones and says, “I wanna have a lot of next times with you.“

Part Two

The alarm clock goes off and Y/N nudges Harry with her foot, making him groan. “Hit snooze!” He throws the pillow over his head and pokes her back.

“I already hit snooze, we have to go to work.” He rolls over and swings his arm and leg over her. “Nooo. Don’t dead monkey me.” She hated this but loved it at the same time. He would put his dead weight on her and she would have to kiss him back to life until he made monkey sounds. “H, I mean it. We don’t have time. I’ll kiss you all you want when we get home.”

Harry removes his limbs from her and pinches her hip, “Oh, give me something to look forward to, love.” She heads to the kitchen and he walks to the shower. They’ve fallen into their own routine, her showering at night and him in the morning. Y/N puts the coffee on and puts cream cheese on a bagel for Harry.

“Y/N!” He shouts from the bathroom and she knows he’s forgotten his towel. He always gets a bad case of the (forgetful) Mondays. Sure enough, she finds Harry peeking behind the shower curtain. “I’m gonna put a post it on your forehead every morning to tell you to get a towel.”

He kisses her cheek and steps out, slipping a little but not falling. “Thanks.” They both brush their teeth at the sink and Harry gets a little too cute as she begins to put her make up on. Still towel-clad, he rests his chin on her shoulder and his arms swing around her. “I hate Mondays, means I can’t stay in bed with you all morning until Saturday.”

If she could pull off that towel and take him back to bed she would, god, she would. “Put some clothes on before I quit my job.” He whips the towel off and swats her butt with it.

The morning goes as it usually does, a kiss in the car and sneaky glances until lunch. In the breakroom, Harry can’t find his sandwich, he just has two fruit cups and one of the cookies Y/N made over the weekend. He sits down at the table and states, “I forgot my sandwich.” Lilly snorts, because to her, Harry can’t even seem to get his own lunch under control. Y/N laughs and pulls the missing lunch out of her little lunch tote, “Oh, thanks, Baby.” Lilly gasps and both of their heads snap up. Shit.

“Lilly, you cannot tell anyone! We haven’t gone to HR yet and we don’t want people here to know.” She just stares back and forth between the two until she starts talking again. “I mean it. Harry’s got a lot of projects going on don’t ruin it for him.” Harrys heart flutters that she was more concerned about him than herself.

After a long day of signing papers and awkward conversations, they make their way back to the car. “Tomorrow’s gonna be a real doozy, huh?” Y/N nods and dramatically flings her head back to the car seat.

“You owe me kisses.” He wiggles his eyebrows and adjusts his glasses. She landed one cute dork. She can tell he’s eager to get home and decides to mess with  him. Her hand caresses his thigh, moving upward. “Y/N, we’re five minutes from home. I really don’t wanna die from a hand job when I’m five minutes away from bending you over the couch.” Her mouth hangs open and her hand pulls back. He was never so straight forward but she could feel herself get all flushed. She swallows hard and shuffles in her seat.

Harry pulls into the driveway and lets Y/N walk ahead of him. He’s been frustrated all day and wonders if she has been too. He wonders if she thought about his face between her legs last night and had to squeeze her thighs together. He waits for her to let Pippy in the backyard and as she walks through the kitchen he pushes her forward on the counter, lifting her skirt up as he pulls her underwear down. He wastes no time in teasing her folds, “I’ve been thinking about you all day. I’ve wanted to bend you over and feel how wet you are.” He moves her hair away from the back of her neck and gives her small pecks, “Do you want to stay here or on the couch?”

She kicks off her undies and turns to face him, “The couch.” He sits on the couch first and pulls her on top of him, helping her undress. “S’not fair. I always get naked first, take it off, Styles.”

Harry smirks at Y/N and takes his shirt off, “Can’t take my pants off, there’s a naked girl in my lap.” She swings her leg back over, biting her lip as he exposes himself. He returns to the couch and taps her leg. “M’I getting more than kisses?” In the blink of an eye she’s lowering herself onto his hips. “You think of me today? You think about fucking me while you were workin?”

Over the past few months, Harry has gotten much more comfortable with talking dirty during sex. And he was good at it. “Mhmm, yeah.” He palms the flesh of her backside and squeezes every so often. “Always make me feel so good.”

Y/N speeds up and her hands grab those stupidly attractive shoulders, “I love when you ride me, feels so good to have your pussy around me.” Her eyes close and she tries to keep her rhythm steady. “I could barely concentrate today. I kept thinking about your legs around my head and then I thought about your legs around my waist.” He wraps both arms around her and flips her on her back. “And I couldn’t stop thinking about how wet you get for me.” He kisses her and thrusts so hard that she gasps into his mouth.

“Oh!” He moves even faster and he feels her legs shake around him. Her arms are around his neck and he sucks on her ear.

“I can feel it. I know you’re almost there.” He nibbles and she whimpers for him. “The feeling of my hair against your clit drives you wild, doesn’t it? You can get so sensitive, fuckin’ remarkable.” He returns to kiss her lips and she accidentally bites his lip.

He pulls away with his eyes closed and she can’t even tell him she’s sorry because he pounding into her. “I-shit. Harder, I’m gonna come. Please, harder.”

Harry pushes his knee into the cushion and balances himself so he has hold of her hips, “Like that?” Her hands are pulling all the cushions and she practically yelling for him. “So pretty when you scream my name, you know?” He feels that familiar squeeze that he loves but does let up his pace. “So pretty you make me wanna come.”

He falls forward and she sucks on his neck, “I wanna feel it.” This time, his hips slow but don’t stop. She couldn’t mean what he thinks she means; she had gone on the pill but He always pulled out. No, no she didn’t mean that. “Baby, come in me.” Fuck.

The thought makes his dick jump and he almost loses his words, “Are you sure? If you’re not you need to tell me like, right now.” She nods her hair and his forehead rests on hers as he releases. “Jesus. I think you broke me.”

Y/N’s tired laugh makes his body feel warm all over again. “I know how to fix you but give me like 15 minutes.”

“Oh yeah? Let’s go get cleaned up and fix me.” His dimples pop and carries her to the shower. He stops short and notices Pippy on the bed, chewing something. “Pippy that better not be my tie.” Y/N hops out of his arms and disappears into the bathroom. Harry walks over to the mischievous dog and fights with whatever she’s chewing on but ends up ripping it. He holds what was once a part of Y/N’s underwear in his hand and looks at the fluff ball, “This stays between up, Pip.”

[ot3-watch]

Episode 5: The Mile High Job

WHY IS THIS EPISODE 8

FUCK THE NETWORK I’M VERY TIRED

So we’re starting on a client testimony. Which is sad because I kind of like the context establishing scenes

Sophie being French is hilarious

I’m not saying Hardison shouldn’t be able to take off when he needs to. I am saying that MAYBE THEY SHOULD PLAN HEISTS FOR DAYS WHEN THEY ARE A MEMBER SHORT?

Also, why does Hardison not put his food on a plate before he puts it in the microwave. That spinning plate does not get washed nearly enough for that to be sanitary

OK wait did Hardison just flake out? THEN WHY DID THEY NOT POSTPONE?

THEY SHOULD HAVE PLANNED THIS MUCH BETTER

I love Parker being magic and teleporting

The security guards always seem like idiots and tbh, working where I work with the security guards being who they are, I feel like it’s all bullshit and a disservice to security guards.

I love the Doctor WHo references. TOM AND SARAH JANE BAKER YES MA’AM

But also did no one make a Doctor Who comment? Like really. I know Tom Baker is probably a common name but I really want to know what happens when they get a whovian checking their IDs

THe poor flight attendant. That sucks. Can you imagine getting a COMPLETELY fake call that your cat might be put down? I’m sorry, I can’t. Completely innocent people get screwed by them sometimes and I feel bad

Eliot remembers everyone he’s slept with I love him.

THIS POOR FLIGHT ATTENDANT? WHat happens when she comes back and everyone is side eyeing her and being bitchy?

I hate the trope of girlfriends or love interests being overly sensitive about people remembering tiny details. Especially when they aren’t actually together. Especially when it happened years ago. Especially when they hold it against them for the whole episode.

SOME PEOPLE HAVE TERRIBLE MEMORIES OK

Also, this is Nate. It’s a shock he has any brain cells left with how drunk he is 99% of the time. Get OVER yourself Sophie.

PLACE YOUR MASK OVER YOUR MOUTH AND NOSE ok Leverage predicting the future…

Parker being a terrible flight attendant is hilarious

Did I like her in this episode? I think I liked her in this episode

Eliot suffering through economy I can’t

I feel bad for the woman, but like… stop pushing? I know she’s nervous but the flight attendant is trying to do her job. I mean, it’s Parker, but in any normal situation…

Hardison pulls the same “You’re such a racist” bit every time he gets in a sticky situation, and it always works? Can you imagine if he tried to pull that on an actual racist?

Do planes have bars like that? I’ve been on plenty of planes and i’ve never seen a bar like that

Im never in first class though so whatever

OKAY GUYS THE IN-FLIGHT MOVIE IS ONE OF THE LIBRARIANS MOVIES

Which means noah wyle exists in the leverage universe.

HOW IS THAT GOING TO WORK WITH THE REBOOT THOUGH?

Unless they just… expected no one to notice? To be fair, it’s not like they focused on it

They probably just needed a movie they could use without securing rights first or running into copyright issues

But still… paradoxes

Eliot just going through a bunch of random people's bags…

HE AND PARKER MOVING AROUND EACH OTHER SO COMFORTABLY THOUGH

THIS IS SEASON ONE WHY ARE THEY SO GOOD TOGETHER ALREADY

I LOVE THEM GUYS

Parker. That’s not reassuring Parker. Parker that’s just terrifying. WHY WOULD YOU SAY SOMETHING LIKE THAT PARKER?? pARKER?? i’M CONCERNED PARKER!

I really hate Sophie getting mad at nate for this shit. It’s not funny. It’s not cute. It just makes Sophie seem unreasonable and bitchy

OK BUT Hardison and the woman bonding IMMEDIATELY over nerdy gaming is so great

Also i like that they made the other nerd a woman is great

OK but he is not talking nearly silently enough for the ONLY other person in the room to just stop listening to him?

Could you imagine the person you were talking to randomly stops talking, looks upset, and then sticks his head in the cabinet? And starts muttering to himself?

LIKE EITHER HE CAN’T TELL REALITY FROM FANTASY OR HES A SPY

WHY ARE YOU NOT SUSPICIOUS??

He really does pull this shit off really well.

The amount of men in that conference room is oppressive and very realistic ina very sad way

Parker must be in a thief’s paradise

OKAY I REMEMBER NOW AND I DID LIKE PARKER IN THIS EPISODE

“Nobody tells me anything”

THAT’S SUCH A MOOD

Literally the job I’m working in right now is exactly like that

My job is literally to know things and help people and provide them with the information they need

AND STILL I’M ONE OF THE LAST TO FIND THINGS OUT

IT’S VERY FRUSTRATING OK

WHy can I not remember why they’re going after genegrow? Someone died I think? But i cannot remember

“The guy in 1D wants to kill you. Ginger Ale?”

Why is it that all i can think about right now is harry styles and niall horan

I mean I KNOW why but like… why

I LOVE them but why?

WHAT IS THIS OFFICE WOMAN’S NAME I LOVE HER

How does no one question Hardison showing up out of nowhere though?

Im just saying… supposedly it’s “Dave’s” birthday, and they think they should have already known about it? He just started that job on that day?

Unless he’s pretending to have been there forever but even then…

This makes no sense? I’m so confused?

Eliot beating a guy up in an airport bathroom is fantastic

But also you can’t fit one person in a airport bathroom, let alone two

THe view from the top is much smaller than the shots from the side

Parker: the guy we just took out? Eliot: -_- Parker: The guy Eliot just took out?

Sophie always seems so shocked by the inhumanity of some of these people they interact with. Nate’s like “Yeah, people are awful” and Eliot’s like “I see worse all the time” and Parker’s like “Is this meant to be weird or something?” but Sophie’s like “WHAt? Someone wants people DEAD? And might KILL US IN THE PROCESS?”

Is the art theft world just not so violent?

Even hardison doesn’t seem shocked, just upset and offended. Sophie’s always like OoO though and it gets weird?

Now both Eliot AND Nate are fitting in the bathroom? With an already unconscious guy? I’VE BEEN IN AIRPLANE BATHROOMS. THEY AREN’T BIG ENOUGH FOR THAT.

Unless i’m just fat. Which is an option.

Why do people have random wires in their luggage? Who travels with a giant bundle of wires in their luggage?

Oh look. The red head was right. There is a tailwind

OK But THE OXYGEN MASKS CAME DOWN AND NO ONE IS TRYING TO PUT ONE ON?

I know they’re panicking but still

Nate really does just throw things at hardison and then Hardison goes like WHAT I CAN’T DO THIS and then he does it.

HOW is Hardison THAT talented it’s ridiculous

WE all talk about Eliot being hyper-competent in everything when Hardison is literally right there

Not to say that eliot doesn’t deserve attention because he does and I love him

I LOVE ELIOT OKAY

I’m just saying Hardison deserves more credit

HOW DID THEY NOT HIT ANY CARS WHEN THEY WERE LANDING? THERE ARE CARS RIGHT THERE? ANd then there’s suddenly no cars in font of them when they land ? It’s all deserted?

HARDISON IS SO GOOD THOUGH

How did they set up a party for “Dave” so quickly?

WHY DOES NO ONE LOOK TO SEE WHO DAVE WAS YELLING AT?

Everyone is so done with Hardison and honestly? Fair. He might’ve saved them, but he also screwed them over earlier. It came in handy, but still.

I really could not give less of a shit about the Nate Sophie storyline in this episode. In most of season one really. It’s all shitty and annoying

FINAL THOUGHTS: 8/10. Points off for people not acting like people. Points off for the shitty Sophie/Nate stuff. Extra points for Eliot being Eliot. (There will always be extra points for Eliot being Eliot). Extra points for Hardison’s badassery. Extra points because I liked Parker in this episode. Extra points for nerd girl. You go nerd girl. Points off because I literally remember nothing about this episode except for Hardison being awesome, the office scenes, and the fact that there was a plane crash. Why were they on the plane? No idea. Can’t remember.

Sam count: 3/5

IYS count: 2/5 (Am I remembering this wrong? I felt like there were more? Then again, I’m only 5 episodes in)

[dreamescapeswriting]

BTS Reaction || How You Meet

SeokJin:  

You met Jin while you were out shopping for a new oven after your best friend decided to break yours over the weekend, you came across an aisle with a bunch of cookbooks sitting on so you decided to take a look at what there was to offer. You were about to take one from the tallest shelf when someone beats you to it, you followed the long arm up to meet a gorgeous face which was staring down into yours, you sent the man a soft smile and then went back to looking at cookbooks, feeling a little uneasy about talking to people you don’t know. It was never really one of your strong points. “Do you need this?” A voice questioned from beside you, you looked at the book he was holding and then up to his face again, instantly wanting to blush from the way he was looking at you. He was stunning, anyone could see that. “No, I was just going to look.” He nodded looking through the book, both of you falling into silence again neither of you knowing what to say to one another, it wasn’t until your name was called over the store radio that you began to leave. “Y/N? That’s a beautiful name.” You smiled brightly at him as you walked over to the counter, he was following beside you as if you knew one another. “Thanks, what’s your name?” You questioned reaching the desk and signing the bits of paper you needed to get the new oven delivered in time.   “Seokjin, everyone just calls me Jin.” You nodded at him and handed the pen back over to the man who looked like he was starting to get impatient with waiting for you. “Nice to meet you Jin.” He glanced at the papers in your hand and then frowned a little, “A new oven?” You nodded starting to let out a little laugh at the memory of your friend. “My friend…she’s not really great in the kitchen but she wanted to cook for me the other night. Safe to say that she will never be allowed in there again. She broke my oven door trying to open it, then when it broke she wanted to make popcorn in the microwave and let’s just say, the old microwave, like most, can’t withstand metal inside of it.” He began laughing along with you and you shook your head, looking down at the clock. “Speaking of which, it’s my turn to cook tonight so I should head home.” You quickly wrote your number down on a bit of scrap paper and handed it to him, not understanding where your sudden burst of confidence had come from but enjoying it anyway. “Text me some recipes from the cookbook some time.” You winked, walking out of the store and going to find your car.

Yoongi:

You weren’t the best at photography but you knew your way around a camera, you knew what looked good in photos and what didn’t, after all, it was just a little hobby you had picked up to pass some time while travelling with friends. Some of your close friends had decided to take a last-minute trip to Paris so you, of course, went along with them, wanting to experience everything you could, that’s how it happened. You were snapping pictures of the Eiffel tower when a  group of younger-looking men walked in front of your shot, you sighed before going and taking more photos once they had passed, you smiled to yourself going through the pictures, the lights on the tower sparkling in different shots, when you came to one of the group of men you looked through them carefully, all of them were very handsome and one of them was even doing a funny pose, but one of them caught your eye. He was wearing a hoodie, mask and black hair, you shook your head going to delete the photo when you heard someone whine from behind you, you would have dropped the camera onto the floor if it wasn’t for the strap around your neck. “I like that one.” You turned around to see the man from the photo standing behind you, you smiled at him and looked back down at it again he had a kind of mysterious looking vibe to him in the photo. “You could be a model, you didn’t even try to look great you just did.” You said aloud without thinking first, you instantly began blushing and so did the boy. “I’m Min Yoongi, you are?” You smiled taking his hand he was holding out for you to shake and shaking it. “Y/N.” You looked around you before realising all of your friends were gone, probably gone to go and get food and you sighed shutting down the camera. “They do this all the time, I start taking photos and they ditch me.” You laughed looking at the puzzled look from Yoongi, he looked around him and noticed his friends were gone too. “Well how about we go get something to eat together?” You smiled, nodding and walking away with him, talking about more of your photography adventures

Hoseok:

Your uncle was none other than bang si hyuk, you were getting a tour around the new Big Hit building from him when someone came rushing over asking for his help with something, he looked at you before knocking on a random glass door you had stopped outside of, there was some banging before the door opened and revealed a taller guy standing there, he smiled at Bang before smiling at you, the kind of bright smile that could light up anyone’s day without even trying. “J-Hope this is my niece Y/N, can you sit with her while I go and help out Jin for a moment.” He nodded and your uncle left without a word, you were used to being palmed off on different members of staff when you were with him since he was always so busy all the time, J-Hope let you into the office and you sat down on the leather sofa that was inside, he went over to his desk and saved whatever it was that he was working on. “So you work for my uncle?” You questioned trying to make some kind of conversation and not be awkward. “Yeah you could say that,” You smiled looking around the office and seeing different posters up everywhere and that’s when it hit you, he was THE J-Hope, the one your uncle would talk about a lot with his other friends, you were currently sitting in one of the rappers studios while your uncle was off doing something else. “Are you and Your uncle close?” You looked away from the posters and then back to J-Hope he was staring at you, you nodded shyly trying not to act as though you knew who he was, he was probably sick of all the people screaming at him all the time. “Kind of, I don’t see him much but when I do we’re close. He’s like a  dad more than an uncle.” You stated, there was a knock at the door and J-Hope got up once again, “Can you finish taking Y/N on the tour, Jin just told me Namjoon’s broken one of the mirrors in the dance studio and I want to get it fixed now.” J-Hope nodded and you got up on your feet. “Let the best tour commence.” He stated laughing along with you as you walked out of the door, going down hallways and in and out of different rooms when you came to another glass door. “That’s Min Yoongi’s studio…we don’t go in there unless we want to die.” He winked linking your arms together and continuing to walk.

Namjoon:

It was like something out of a cheesy romance movie you watched, you never really thought it would happen like this. Of course everyone has it in there minds that they will have this Meet Cute moment with the man they’re going to spend the rest of their lives with but no one actually believes it’s going to happen, or at least you didn’t. You were working in a bookshop you’d worked in for years, the owner had recently passed away and left it to you in his will, since you had been working there almost all your life it seemed fitting to do so. You were in the middle of restocking a top shelf when the bell above the door chimed signalling a customer had walked through the door, you slowly came down from the ladder dusting off your hands and going over to the front desk to greet them, “Hi welcome to, The Little Bookshop, I’m Y/N and if you need anything let me know.” You said with a pleasant smile to the guy who was walking towards the desk, he looked up at you and smiled, you could have sworn you felt your heart starting to skip a beat and it felt as though the world had actually stopped spinning but that was silly, it only happened in movies. Stuff like that didn’t happen in real life, you looked down at the desk to try and avoid his eye contact when a group of people were rushing past the window, he darted behind a shelf and you frowned looking out of the shop window to see a group of girls and photographers all looking puzzled. “Want me to lock the door so they can’t find you?” He stared at you for a moment or two before nodding, you slowly made your way over to the door flipping the sign to closed before locking the door and pulling down the blinds, you weren’t an idiot you could tell when someone wanted to be alone. “I can go wait out back while you do your book hunting if it makes you more comfortable.” You offered as you reached the desk, he was standing by it watching you the whole time, you picked up your copy of the book you were reading. “No…that’s okay. But I would like to take you up on the help…could you recommend some books to me. I’m going away on a trip and need some new material.” You nodded putting your book down once again and looking at him. “What have you read before? Give me some sort of insight into your style.” You said with a smile, he relaxed a little and put down the bag he was carrying. “I mostly read science, or philosophy books but I’m looking to expand my genre.” You nodded again going over to the fiction aisle and going through to find some of your favourites. “See I prefer my fiction but I’m trying to get into philosophy books, any recommendations ?” You teased climbing onto one of the small steps that were around and grabbing some of the books you thought he would like. “I can write some down for you.” He smirked, you smiled back, coming down and taking them over to the desk again and laying them out for him. “Most people think Alice In Wonderland is for younger children but honestly, it’s been my favourite since I could read and I can’t even tell you the amount of times I’ve read this, then if you’re really looking to get out of your comfort zone I got some romance books…started with the easy stuff. Me before You, Dear John, Letters to Juliet, Pride and Prejudice…that sort of thing.” You stated looking up at him to see him staring at you already, you blushed tucking some hairs behind your ear and looking at the books once again. “What are you reading at the moment?” He questioned as you rung up his book total into the till, you glanced down at your book and bit down onto your lip. “How to deal with the lose of a loved one…the owner died recently and he was like a grandfather to me…just trying to move on a little.” You admitted shaking your head and handing him the receipt for him to sign. “I’ll text you my book recommendations.” He winked, you looked down at the receipt and see he’d written his name and number on it. “Thanks Namjoon…I’ll let you sneak out the back door if you want?” He nodded and loaded the books into his bag while you grabbed the keys and headed for the back door. “It was lovely meeting you.”

Jimin:

You were out with your brothers’ daughter for the day, trying to give him and his wife a little break away from her. She was only five years old a real handful, you’d taken her shopping and now you were taking her to go and get something to eat in a local cafe with a playground outback. “Honey you have to stay with me you can’t run off.” You warned as she tried to run away from you to go onto the slide, she was tugging at your arm and you laughed at her. “No, you need to eat something first.” You giggled ordering some food for both of you before bending down and picking her up, the lady behind the counter smiled at you as your niece tried to getaway. “It’s safe for her to play on her own, my grandson is out there watching over them.” You looked out of the door before back at the lady, you knew she was lovely but you didn’t really want to let your niece out of your sight considering she wasn’t your daughter. “Okay, go and play.” You whispered patting her head and sending her out of the door, she sprinted towards the slide and you watched from the window while waiting for your drinks to be done.

“Y/N! Did you see me?!” She screamed as you came out of the door holding a tray with her food on, she was jumping up and down in place at the bottom of the slide laughing as she went back up, you watched her getting back onto the slide and coming down when she fell at the bottom. “Angelina!” You screamed running over to her and looking at her, she’d scraped her knew up badly and you panicked going into your handbag and pulling out a tissue cleaning it up as she cried into your shoulder. “She okay?” Someone questioned, coming over with a first aid kit. “Yeah, just a small cut.” You whispered looking away from her for a second to see a guy around your age standing there holding the first aid kit. “I’ve got wipes, and plasters…princess ones.” He admitted making Angelina laugh into your shoulder, you thanked him and started cleaning up her knee. “My brother is going to kill me for letting her get hurt.” You sighed sitting down at the bench and watching her run off as if nothing had happened. “Kids get scraped it happens.” You nodded turning around to thank him and he smiled at you. “I’m Jimin, my grandma owns the cafe.” He stated, shaking your hand you smiled looking over at Angelina again who was making friends with a girl around her own age. “Y/N.” You said back to him, turns out kids aren’t the only ones who make friends in playgrounds anymore

Taehyung:

You were J-Hopes little sister, you were only three years younger than him but, of course, shorter so you were his literal little sister. You’d been begging him to take you to his studio for months as he’d promised you but he would always make up some silly excuse at the last minute that he was busy, or that it wasn’t ready to be seen. “J-Hope…I want to come and see where you work.” You whined at the front door that morning, he was shaking his head trying to get you to stay at home but you weren’t having any of it. “Hoseok! It’s your last day home! I want to spend it with my big brother.” He looked at you and you were giving him the puppy dog eyes, the ones he could never resit and he grumbled something, you smiled following him out to the car and getting into the passenger side as he drove to work.

“Hope I know you said not to come in but we-” Whoever was talking stopped midsentence as soon as they entered the studio, you looked up to see Taehyung, one of your brothers’ band members in the doorway staring at you, you smiled at him before going back to eating the noodles that J-Hope had made you both, you’d never met any of the boys before because J-Hope said they were always busy with their things and whenever they would come round to the house you were either out or in bed, J-Hope didn’t want you to be around them much since you were his little sister. “You told them not to come in here?” You asked putting down your chopsticks and staring at him, he blinked a few times before turning his gaze over to V who was staring at you still. “Yes…But it was our last day together that’s why.” You heard a chuckle coming from behind V and in walked Jimin who was shaking his head. “You told us all to stay away from Y/N especially V cause he said she was cute!” That’s when he started blushing and you did too, moving over on the sofa so there was room for him and Jimin to sit with you and your brother, who didn’t look very impressed by the situation.

Jungkook:

As cliche as it’s going to sound you both met at the meet and greets, you’d brought them all presents to thank them for their music, you got Namjoon a collection of books, Jin some of your favourite cookbooks/ recipes all together as well as a selection of the best restaurants closest to them at the time. You got Taehyung some Van Gogh art books and art exhibit ideas for him, Yoongi you brought him some comic books, and a stuffed toy that reminded you of him. For J-Hope you got a small manbag like the ones he liked to carry around with him and for Jimin you got him some books as well as a stuffed animal you’d seen. For Jungkook you went and purchased some Overwatch PJ’s and a stuffed version of his favourite character, you just really wanted to thank them for all the incredible work they always did. You’d just finished talking to Namjoon about the books you’d given him when it was time to move on, you slid across to Jungkook who had been watching you the whole time without you knowing, he was watching how calm and collected you were while talking to each of the members and other fans around you. You’d been so calm about everything even when another girl tried to push in front of you, you just let her do it without starting a huge scene for everyone to see. “I just wanted to thank you guys, so I got you all some gifts, it isn’t much but I hope you like them.” You said for the seventh time in the line, he smiled at you looking into the bag and hugging you from across the table, you felt a shock go through your body and you weren’t sure if it was just because he was your Bias or because there was a connection there but you both pulled away and began talking. “I haven’t been a fan for so long but I really did want to thank you all, your music…it helps so many people.” He was watching as you nervously played with the ends of your hoodie strings, he smiled whenever you smiled and kept his eyes trained on you at all times, he’d never seen someone this beautiful and kind before. “I guess I should get going there’s other fans for you all to see.” You said with a small hint of sadness behind your tone, Jungkook quickly wrote something down on a CD cover and slid it over to you, “Speak later.” He winked as you walked away, you frowned opening up the case to see he’d written his number along the inside of the sleeve, you slammed it shut before anyone else could glance over and see, you looked over your shoulder to see him still watching you as you walked away, you sent him a small smile and a wave before leaving the venue and texting the number in front of you.

A/N:

Just a small note, I haven’t written anything fanfiction related in about three years! So I’m so sorry that these suck! I’m trying to get back into the swing of things. Request things for me to do please! I’m begging!!

[bearseokie]

monsta x as ghost hunters

monsta x m.list | navi.

Shownu

first to be picked as a partner for walk-throughs. the team will get into a literal altercation attempting to be his partner.

everyone feels safest around him. even the spirits.

is actually very scared himself. like sticking his whole arm through a doorway while holding devices to get evidence just to avoid anything, scared.

no one’s going inside first? he’s already through the front door.

“what can i do to help you?”  “stay with us.”  “i’m sorry but i have a very comfortable bed at home waiting for me.”

cheeky smile and worried eyes at the same time when he hears his name over the spirit box.

is more worried about his teammates than himself. will pause the entire session if even the smallest occurrence takes place. throws people over his shoulder and carries them if they’re injured or sick. always has food and water on standby. will fight a ghost to protect someone.

gets hit on a lot. by everyone. even the energy likes him.

cleanses every place he goes in order to help the spirits escape and rest peacefully.

“go on now.”  “we’re still here.”  “well, i tried.”

Wonho

stopped functioning a while into the session and is now just in a haze of confusion and fear.

“can you speak to us?”  “no.”  “well, that’s it then guys. let’s wrap it up here.”

gets pushed inside everywhere first because everyone assumes that because he’s a big dude, he’s the most confident. will play the “no, you.” game by spinning in circles until someone else goes first.

biting his bottom lip out of sheer nervousness.

“hoseok.”  “that’s not my name. i got it legally changed before coming here. nice try.”

cries at voices coming through the spirit box screaming or crying because he wants to help them.

has a hard time deciphering if a spirit is good or evil, so he has to be pulled out of the space a lot just for general protection.

holds hands with his teammates during walk-throughs.

politely requests that the spirits go easy on him when he has to do a solo.

“okay, i gotta go now. take care.”  “don’t go.”  he’s already vanished.

Minhyuk

can’t stand still to save his life. literally. he will bounce, skip, jog, run, do cartwheels, dougie, anything to keep him mobile so nothing touches him.

understandably calm during the spirit box sessions. he genuinely tries to communicate with the spirits, but that doesn’t make him any less terrified.

trusts his gut (feelings, emotions) over anything logical.

“do you see us?”  “yes.”  “cool, thanks.”

sits with his legs crossed in the middle of a room and pouts when no evidence appears.

scares his teammates by hiding around corners and jumping out at them.

counts every second until his solo is over with. runs to the exit and doesn’t go back in until the sun is up, then he retrieves the equipment he probably dropped while scared.

“i’m okay. i’m okay. i’m okay.”  “hello?”  “i am no longer okay.”

gets excited about haunted playgrounds for the specific reason that he gets to spend most of the session on a swing.

“are we good to go?”  “do you have to?”  “that’s a sign that we gotta go Now.”

Kihyun

second guesses everything. tries to find logistical reasons behind all evidence captured.

barely flinches when he gets touched or hears his name, but the second he thinks he sees a full apparition in his peripheral? he’s more translucent than the spirit.

uses a whole ass lantern like it’s the 1800’s instead of a flashlight to ‘ward off bad spirits’.

jaw goes slack when any evidence arises and he just stands there internally freaking out for at least a solid two minutes.

 “get out.”  “that’s no way to treat a guest.”

can sit in total darkness without flinching.

thinks spirits hitting on him means he’s extra sexy.

scolds instead of threatening bad spirits enough that nothing ever happens to him. no one likes to be scolded by him, even the dead.

the last to leave a room so everyone else feels safe not being the caboose.

“it’s time to go already?”  “no.”  “well, you heard them. let’s hang out some more.”

Hyungwon

yes this six foot man is hiding behind someone smaller than him. he knows he looks ridiculous, but he’s mortified and cursing everything right now. give him a hot minute.

sleeps with an eye mask on that reads ‘do not disturb’ even if he’s in a haunted place or camping in the middle of a forest for an investigation.

“help me.”  “gonna need more context than that because you might be evil.”

well known for swearing at spirits without receiving any backlash at all. seriously, nothing happens. so he’s going to keep doing it until some real repercussions come forth.

pretends that he’s not scared when in actuality, he has his entire backpack loaded with things to keep him safe.

probably sweating under all of the layers of clothes he decided to wear as a ‘ghost precaution’.

chews gum obnoxiously just to mess with the audio readings.

attacks everything in sight, including other team members, when truly frightened.

those long legs just mean less strides to get the Hell away from the haunted place.

“I’m never coming back here.” always leads to “In This Season: The Return to ___”

Joohoney

can’t stay around a haunted place for longer than twenty minute intervals.

is pouting only because the ghost chose to touch someone else. (libras amiright)

actually has the worst luck in the history of ghost hunting, evidence wise. he gets his clothes tugged on at almost every location, hears his name in every spirit box session, and thinks he’s being followed everywhere. he’s basically a beacon for ghosts until a camera is pointed at him.

can and will cry.

“touch me again, i dare you.”  “sure.”  “wait, i was just joking!”

when asked to go anywhere alone, he will crouch down and sit on their foot with his entire body wrapped around their leg while he begs and pleads to not go at all. especially not alone.

imitates character voices like kermit so the spirits get confused. they know it’s him.

plays thriller by mj during sessions to jam out and not be so scared

screams without making any sounds when he’s afraid.

“the sun’s rising? Let’s Bounce!”

Changkyun

blood curdling scream at the slightest indication that there is something with them.

“mmmmmm.”  “microwave?”

sleep on the haunted property? he’ll be in the back of the camper, thank you.

uses the infrared on himself to see how big his dick is in his pants.

listens to lofi when he’s on break to recuperate.

befriends the local dog faster than he captures evidence of the afterlife.

thinks ghostly moans just means someone is getting some.

“you need to find me.”  “i don’t think google maps has that feature yet, bro.”

zig zags during solos like he’s running from an alligator.

time to go? he’s packed and heading out going “that wasn’t too bad, actually.”

[yeobabesnotes]

You

Reader x Wooyoung

Word Count: 1593

Summary:  Let him treat you today

Y/N answers the phone call only to have her eardrums blown away by her ‘lovely’ fiancé, Jung Wooyoung.  “BABYGIRL, what was it that we needed from the store?  I grabbed a couple of things, but I don’t remember the rest,” he began by shouting then moving to a rapid-paced speech.

“Woo, this is the third time you’ve called how could you have forgotten?  We just needed some damn milk for the pancake batter, is that hard?” she was beginning to get annoyed but managed to keep it at bay.

“No, but I am.”

“JUNG WOOYOUNG!  Hurry your ass home I just want some fucking pancakes,” Y/N hangs up the phone and returns to making the rest of the batter, minus the wet ingredients.  Today, as their Valentine’s celebration, they are staying home.

The plan consists of making breakfast together - Y/N making breakfast - and eating it while watching movies, then spending the rest of the day doing exactly that.  Eating, watching movies, and cuddling all day.

Wooyoung takes his time going through the store purposely trying to annoy Y/N for whatever reason.  He finally goes to checkout when something catches his eye; he contemplates it for a second then grabs it.

Placing all of his items on the counter, Wooyoung pulls out his wallet getting ready to pay.  The cashier finishes scanning all of the items, “the total is $19.90.  Big plans for Valentine’s Day I’m guessing.”  Wooyoung’s cheeks redden slightly as he confirms the price, sliding his card.

Another twenty minutes go by and Y/N is beginning to get impatient again;  she pulls out her phone to call Wooyoung again when the door latch clicks open.

“It’s about damn time you get here!  Here, let me take the groceries,” Y/N goes forward to take the brown bag from Woo, but he pulls away while telling her that he’s got it.

He marches past her and right into the kitchen unpacking all of the groceries.  The bonus items quickly go into the fridge and one into his pocket.

“I got the milk!  How much do we need for our pancake?  I want to mix it,”  Wooyoung begins to get energetic like a small child, like normal, as he watches Y/N pull out the measuring cups.

She pours the milk and cracks the eggs while he mixes the batter.  Together, they take turns pouring medium-sized circles of batter into the heated pan, and Wooyoung does his “best” to correctly flip the pancakes.

“Stop it, you idiot!  You keep dropping them, just use the spatula,” Y/N follows him around as he runs, with the pan in hand, while still attempting to flip it.  She smacks him with the spatula when he finally stops running.

“Look, I cooked this pancake perfectly because of my flips,”  he shows off a perfect pancake.

“Oh.”

“You’re in charge of cooking now then Woo, I’m going to start our movie!”  Y/N practically skips out of the kitchen towards the living room.

Wooyoung laughs as he watches her run out of the kitchen.  Watching to make sure she left, he pulls out the strawberries he bought earlier putting them to soak while he chops up the almond bark getting it ready to be melted.

He finishes preparing for the chocolate-covered strawberries, and he finishes the pancakes.  Wooyoung puts all of the pancakes on a platter, grabs plates and syrup, and walks to the living room balancing all of it.

Y/N sees him struggling a little bit, so she gets up to take the plates and syrup setting them down on the coffee table.

“I’ll go grab forks and knives for us,” Y/N begins walking to the kitchen, but Wooyoung runs past her then runs back with the utensils.

“Okay, then I guess I won’t grab them,” she sits back down at the coffee table in front of the food display they’ve finished.

“It’s Valentine’s Day let me do everything for you today,” Wooyoung tells her as he reaches to put a pancake on her plate.  Y/N smacks his shoulder in embarrassment, “you don’t have to be this sweet today, I’m not used to it.”

He leans in to kiss her temple, “I’ll be like this more often so you better get used to it.  I’ll need to be a caring husband.”

“Oh yeah, you totally will be sweet like this all the time, not screaming in my ears and wrestling me to the ground.”

“Totally.”

The pair laugh at the exchange then turn back to their pancakes.  Wooyoung picks up the remote to press play, and then their movie day begins.

As they near the ending of the first movie, Y/N knocks her syrup-filled place onto her lap.  She stares at the mess in shock for a few seconds before getting up to head to the bathroom.

“Wait here, I want to go run you a bath,”  Wooyoung pushes her back down and runs to the bathroom.

He heads to Y/N’s cabinet with skincare items looking for her bath bomb stash.  Once he finds it, he picks up a rose-scented one and a handful of rose petals.  Wooyoung begins to run the water to a scolding temperature that for some reason his fiancé loves.

He tosses in the bath bomb with the rose petals watching the water rise.  When the water is filled enough, he heads to get Y/N into the tub.

Wooyoung walks into the living room to see her sitting on the couch.  It’s such an everyday thing but he can’t help but think how beautiful she is.

He sneaks up behind the couch and screams, “the bath is ready!”  Y/N flies forward off the couch then gains her footing and chases Wooyoung as he runs to the bathroom.

Stepping into the bathroom, she stops in her track taking it all in.

She slowly steps forward to Wooyoung and holds out her arms.  He immediately rushes to her, letting her arms wrap around his neck and pulling her close.

His lips meet hers for a second until he pushes her back and lifts her shirt.  “Don’t let the bath get cold.  I’ll go clean up the living room and finish up the dishes,”  Wooyoung pulls her shirt off the rest of the way then shoves her towards the bath.

He watches her step into the bath and settle in before he walks then rushes out of the bathroom towards the kitchen.  Wooyoung reaches the sink immediately pulling the strawberries out and laying them across some paper towels.

Turning to go get the plates from the living room, he sees the chopped chocolate sits on the counter waiting to be melted.  He stops and quickly puts the chocolate into a microwave-safe cup then puts it into the microwave.

Wooyoung rushes to clean the dishes and heat the chocolate making sure it doesn’t burn.  The strawberries are dried and the chocolate is melted so he begins to dip the strawberries, then lay them across the plate.

It takes about ten minutes just to have the entire pound of strawberries dipped in chocolate and put into the freezer; he doesn’t want to know how long it’s been since he started the cleanup.

Once they’re in the freezer, he rushes to clean the rest of the dishes wanting to leave no evidence of his creation.

While he finishes the last pan, Y/N wraps her arms around Wooyoung’s waist.  She’s clad in a fluffy robe with her hair still wrapped in a towel, “you’re still doing dishes, baby?  I could’ve helped you.” 

He puts the pan down on the drying mat then spins to face his fiancé, “no princess, I got it.  I’m already finished now.”  He presses his forehead against hers, “let’s lay in bed for the rest of movie day.”

Y/N nods and heads off to the bedroom, “I’ll start the movie so hurry up Woo.”  Wooyoung giggles at her cuteness.  He quickly checks on the progress of the strawberries pulling them out of the freezer, then he checks to make sure he has the last gift still in his pocket.

Wooyoung goes to enter the bedroom, gifts in hand, stopping to look at his gorgeous girl laid on the bed; she’s still dressed in her robe, but her hair is now dried and flowing down her shoulders.  

“Princess, close your eyes for a second I have a gift.”

Y/N slaps her hand over her eyes dramatically, “bring on the gift, husband.”

His smile grows as he walks towards her, placing the plate of strawberries on the bed, “open them.”  She drops her hands from her face eyes meeting the plate.  Her eyes snap up to Wooyoung, “did you make these for me?  All by yourself?”

“I did, do you like it?”

Almost knocking over the strawberries, she tosses herself forward into Woo’s arms.  She peppers kisses along his face, “I love it.  Thank you, baby.”

Y/N sits back to grab a strawberry to eat but is interrupted by Wooyoung grabbing her wrist.  He picks her up and slams her down back onto the bed underneath him.

“I got a third present for you,” he says pulling out the box of condoms he bought earlier.  Wooyoung drops it onto the bed then shifts his weight to have a hand pressed to each side of her head.

He lets her legs wrap around his waist then grinds his hips down into hers.

“Do I get a reward for doing a good job now?”

[maybedefinitely404]

Day 7: Roman x unknown (Creativitwins focus)

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 7: There is a string tied around your pinky that only you can see, the end of it leads to your soulmate.

Content warnings: food mentions, mention of losing soulmate, autistic character (not explicitly stated, but heavily implied).

Word count: 2.5k

Little Roman was barely six years old when he first felt the gentle tug on his pinky finger, looking down from his coloring book to inspect the digit. A gap-toothed smile spread across his face when he saw the thin red string, tied in a neat little bow, the end trailing off for about as long as he was tall before fading. He’d been expecting his soulmark since his mom had told him about the concept just a little while ago, and now it was here! The Disney prince lover that he was, he was already ready to meet his true love. Six years had been too long a wait. 

His mom turned from the late dinner she was preparing when he hobbled down the stairs, overstuffed and oversized backpack dragging behind him and Mrs. Fluffybottom stuffed into the front of his shirt. She tried her hardest to keep a straight face as he gripped the railing for balance, tongue poking out between his teeth in a valiant attempt to not faceplant. 

“Where are you going with Virgil’s backpack, sweetheart?”

“I’m on a quest!” He announced as he stumbled off the final step, puffing out his little chest like a kitten trying to look intimidating. The rabbit stuffy that flopped in front of his face greatly diminished his threat.

“Is that so? And what is the purpose of this quest, my prince?”

“To find my soulmate!” 

She put down the wooden spoon she was stirring with a wide grin, their family resemblance shining through with the action. “Your string appeared? That’s amazing!”

Roman couldn’t help but nod excitedly all the while shifting the uncomfortably heavy backpack on his already sore shoulders. “I’m going to find whoever it is and live happily ever after!”

“I’m sure you will, Roman. But how about some dinner before you embark on this journey? Don’t want to get hungry.”

He thought it over carefully, nose scrunching, deep in thought. He wanted to find his soulmate as soon as possible, but the food also smelled super good, and he’d already waited six years. What was one more meal time? His stomach gurgled in affirmation and he took his place at the table, dropping the bag and Mrs. Fluffybottom onto the floor next to him.

“Valiant choice. Boys, come get dinner!” She hollered in the stair’s general direction, being met almost immediately by thundering footsteps echoing through the upstairs hallway. Moments later, Remus slid down the handrail with a shout. His feet screeched loudly against the bannister in an attempt to slow him down, but it failed (as it did every time) and he ended up plummeting off the bottom, landing on his back with an “oof!”. He didn’t seem bothered, though when did he ever, as he scrambled back to his feet and plopped down in his spot, diagonal of Roman. Such arrangements had to be made a while back, when the twins proved incapable of sitting within hitting or kicking distance of each other for meals. 

“Ah, and the Duke joins us. Did you see Virgil on the way down, hunny?”

She watched as he knocked the table with his fist lightly, his ‘deep in thought’ face identical to Roman’s, before he shook his head with a low hum.

“That’s okay. Do you want your spaghetti sauce on your noodles or beside it?”

Remus patted both open palms on the table, looking at her with wide eyes.

“Two separate bowls?”

He nodded. 

“Sounds good. And Roman- Oh, there he is! The Prince, the Duke, and the King!”

Both boys turned to the stairs as their older brother stepped into the landing, his headphones wrapped around his neck. He looked like he’d just woken up from a nap, eyes drooping and stifling a yawn. 

“King? More like court jester!” Roman stage whispered to Remus, incredibly proud of himself for the dig. Remus gave out a delighted giggle, wiggling in his spot. His mom tried to look disappointed, but her smirk was as difficult to hide as Virgil’s eye roll. She placed down Remus’ two bowls before going back to the stove to fill the rest of the plates.

“Cute. Why do you have my backpack?”

“I’m going on an adventure!”

“Okay, well, use your own backpack.”

“It ripped.”

“Then use Remus’.” 

Remus let out an indignant grunt, narrowing his eyes in a way that definitely indicated anyone who touched his backpack would be met with his rage. He didn’t like people touching his things. 

“I need it for school, dude.”

“And I need to meet my soulmate!”

The kitchen went silent except for Remus slurping marinara off his spoon, interchanging between bites of chopped up noodles and spaghetti sauce, oblivious to the sudden energy shift in the room. 

“You got a soulmark?” He asked lowly, less as a question and more of an accusation. Roman puffed his chest up again, refusing to let his older brother bring down the joy of this momentous occasion. What was his problem, anyways?

“Yup! And I’m going on an adventure to unite-”

“Don’t even bother. Soulmates are bullshit anyways.”

“Virgil, language!”

His mother set down the remaining plates, casting Virgil The Look. Roman stuck his tongue out at Virgil before digging into his own plate, concentrating on swirling the pasta around the fork properly. His mother always offered to cut it into pieces like she did for Remus (and how Virgil did for himself) but no, he wanted to be a big boy and eat it like she did. She didn’t complain, because even if it meant twice as much clean up for her, his focus on the task provided a much more peaceful meal time. 

“I’m not hungry. I’m just gonna go do homework.”

“Virgil, please eat dinner with us.”

“I said I’m not hungry.”

“You say that now, but I’m the one cleaning reheated pasta off the microwave tomorrow morning because of your little ‘midnight snack’.”

“I’ll clean the microwave,” he grumbled, feeling his chance at victory slipping through his fingers. 

“You know that’s not the point. Not that I’m going to prevent you from doing so.”

She softened her smile, gesturing to his plate as she took her spot next to Remus. Virgil took a shuddering breath, hating that he loved his mom this much, and dropped into his seat numbly. He gave Roman a glare out of the side of his eye but the younger didn’t notice, spinning his fork with both hands, before he took his knife and cut his own noodles into bite sized chunks. Something about looking less like an idiot when he ate it. 

Dinner went by in a flash, Remus lifting his bowl to lick the inside only to have it plucked from his hands by mom, who stacked his bowls on top of her plate and carried them to the dishwasher. Roman was scraping the last remnants onto his fork when Virgil stood up and stormed from the room.

“Mom, Virgil didn’t clean his dishes!” 

“Don’t tattle, Roman. I see it,” She chastised before clearing the plate. Roman hopped off his chair and dutifully brought his own plate over, loading it into the dishwasher. The light in his eyes suddenly exploded to life and he bounded over to his chair, lugging Virgil’s backpack back onto his shoulders.

“Well, I’m off now! Thanks for dinner, mom, but I have a soulmate to find!”

Just as he strode towards the door, trying to decide between his his mickey mouse sneakers or his red velcro ones, Remus let out a wail and dove from the table, eyes bright with tears.

“What is it, Rem? I have to go!”

Another sob broke from his chest as he latched his arms around Roman, effectively smearing the sauce from his chin on his prince costume. He was mumbling something into the fabric, more gibberish than actual words, though Roman heard the word ‘no’ distinctly more than once. 

“Aw, now I have to go change!” He pulled back, earning another whine. “I’ll be back, Rem! I don’t know when, but-”

“Roman?” 

He turned to his mom, who was standing in the doorway with a gentle smile, watching the scene before her.

“I don’t think Remus wants you to go just yet, sweetheart. And it’s getting dark. Maybe you should stay here for tonight.”

As if to affirm the statement, Remus wrapped himself tighter around Roman’s ribs, shaking his head vigorously against his shoulder. He glanced out the window and sighed; it was getting dark, and despite being an incredibly brave adventurer, he had a strong dislike of the dark. For practical reasons, of course! 

“I guess I can stay tonight.”

Remus barely gave him room to breathe as they stumbled up the stairs in an uncoordinated mess, their mom chuckling as she followed a step behind. Luckily she broke them apart long enough to allow them to get into their pajamas and brush their teeth, an affair that went without its usual amount of bickering and petty toothpaste shenanigans. For once, Roman didn’t have the heart to bother his twin, not when the other kept looking at him with teary eyes every time he moved, as if he needed to watch him, lest Roman run away from him again.  

When he rinsed out his mouth and walked back into their room, his mom was sitting on his bed, thumbing through his backpack- well, Virgil’s, technically- and neatly refolding the clothes he’d haphazardly thrown in. 

“Mom, I’m gonna have to repack those tomorrow!” As much as it bore a hole into his chest, he ignored Remus’ whine and climbed under the blankets. His twin looked torn for a moment, watching him wiggle past his mom’s form, before dejectedly crawling into his own bed, eyes never leaving Roman.

“Ro, what did I tell you about soulmates?”

“That they’re your true love? And the string leads you to them.” Roman shifted so he was lying on his back, smiling wistfully. 

“I think I phrased it differently, but yes. Anything else?”

Cue nose scrunching, his trademark thinking face. “I don’t remember.”

“Sweetheart, the string connects you too, but you can’t follow it to them until it’s time for you to meet.”

Roman’s face fell, “You mean I can’t go find my soulmate?”

“You’ll find them on your own time, naturally. If you rush it, or try to force it, it won’t work.”

“Well… what if I try really hard?”

Mom laughed lightly, running a hand through his hair. “That won’t make a difference, sweetheart. You can’t make the process go any faster than it’s supposed to.”

“So I can’t follow the string?”

“I’m sorry, Roman. I know how excited you are for your soulmate.”

Roman couldn’t deny the heaviness weighing in his chest at the news. He had to wait longer? This is getting ridiculous. But if the risk of trying to find the person might delay it even more… well, he’d just have to let it run its course. As much as it sucked.

“Okay,” He sighed, closing his eyes as she leaned forward and kissed his forehead. Picking up the now empty backpack from the floor, she stepped up to Remus’ bed.

“Hug and kiss?” 

He stared at her for a second as if heavily debating his options, before nodding. She seemed pleased with the response, though Roman knew she’d be okay with whichever he chose, and pulled him into her arms, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. 

“I’m just going to take this back to Virgil,” She waved the backpack towards Roman impishly, “Maybe ask before you take his stuff next time.”

“Wait, mom!” Roman yelped as she went to close the door and she poked her head back in, eyebrow raised. He took a deep breath, not understanding his sudden nervousness. “Why was Virgil so upset? After I told him about my string.” It was mom’s turn to sigh, heavily, before she pushed the door open more and leaned against the frame. 

“Virgil doesn’t have a soulmark, sweetheart. It’s very difficult for him to talk about.”

“...Oh. He never got one?” His heart sank, immediately feeling guilty. 

“He… he used to have one. And then one day it…” She did a poofing motion with her hands, “Just disappeared. We don’t know why, and Virgil was very sad when it happened.”

Roman could understand… to have this little bond taken as quickly as it was given; he’d be distraught. “Well, maybe he can get it back!”

His mom smiled sadly, slowly reaching for the door handle, “Maybe. Don’t try to talk to Virgil about it, okay? It’s a sore topic.”

“Okay…” Roman pulled the covers up to his chin, his mind filled with newbound anxieties. “I love you.”

Her expression morphed into one of fondness, her eyes glittering with joy. “I love you, too, my Prince. And you, my Duke. Sweet dreams, okay?”

“Night, mom,” Roman called as she closed the door, going back to watching the glow in the dark stars on their ceiling. He couldn’t stop thinking about Virgil’s lost soulmark. What if that happened to him? How old had Virgil been when it happened? Was his soulmate still out there, or were they... gone? 

All questions he’d have to talk to his mom about tomorrow, since she’d told him not to talk to Virgil about it. Maybe he’d just give Virgil an extra tight hug tomorrow, to make him feel better. Hugs always made Roman feel better, so it was probably the same for his big brother, too. 

He was pulled out of his thoughts by a small sniffle from Remus’ bed, turning his attention from the galaxy on their ceiling to his brother. In the dim glow of their respective red and green nightlights, Remus’ brown eyes shone with bright tears, watching Roman intensely and choking back small sobs. He still thought he was going to leave.

With not a moment’s hesitation, Roman scooted back until he was against the wall and lifted the corner of the blanket in a silent invitation. Remus didn’t need more than that, scrambling out of his own covers with lightning speed, almost tripping over the fabric, and launching himself into his twin’s bed. Like an octopus, he wrapped his limbs around Roman in a tight squeeze, digging his face into his chest. He got the message. Please don’t leave.

“I’m not going anywhere, Rem. I promise. I’ll stay.”

That seemed to be enough to satiate him, because his eyes immediately drooped, though his grip didn’t falter. 

“If you kick me, I’m pushing you onto the floor.”

Remus hummed gruffly from the back of his throat, like an unspoken way of saying shut up. Roman didn’t fight his hug, didn’t try to escape, because even if his twin was the bane of his existence, he still loved him more than anything. Except maybe his mom… and reluctantly, Virgil. They all tied for first place. But for sure, if anyone talked bad about Remus (and peers had, in the past), he would be the first to deck them and sit on them until they apologized (he’d done that, too).

“Love you, Rem,” He grumbled like it was a reluctant admission. His brother didn’t answer, and he realized he’d fallen asleep, curled against Roman like a koala. That was fine. They hadn’t shared a bed in years, and he’d kind of missed it. 

He got comfortable, as much as he could with his human attachment, and let his eyes drift shut, visions of his possible soulmate filling his dreams.