#this basically went out the window but I will hold onto it with every ounce of my life

[anyataylorjoys]

Bughead ⇨ 4x11: Chapter Sixty-Eight: Quiz Show 

[siriusmydeer]

happy birthday, james.

james potter x fem!reader

summary: it’s james’ birthday, and you have a little present for him, as-well as his present to you.

word count: 3.5k

warnings: mentions of marijuana, mentions of alcohol, kissing, mentions of anxiety, choking, missionary, creampie, penetrative sex, male receiving oral, innocent kink, sort of size kink, choking, rough sex, dirty talk, a little degration?, pet names, daddy kink, mentions of sexual dancing, jealous!james, possession kink

a/n: happy bday to my fave dilf

there was immense heat flowing throughout the crevices of the room. barely a sober teenager left at the birthday celebration. it was profoundly humid in the midst of the gryffindor common room. the aroma of marijuana and the tinges of fire whisky extremely articulate in the concluded room of teenagers smoking their little hearts away and doing body-shots close to the stairway of the girls dormitories.

james fleamont potters birthday, the quidditch captain, and maybe even gryffindor prince, if you will. from the crack of dawn, march 27th he had been ecstatic enough to put his friends in an immense amount of misery from all the happy-go-lucky behaviour.

as the devoted girlfriend you were you dedicated the whole day to him. he was an amazing man after all, his loving affections never faltering throughout the first duration of your relationship. so a day dedicated to him well was in favour, but to other peers it was probably beyond and well over the top, surprise gifts, snogging sessions between classes and even his favourite meals throughout the whole day.

but now the party commenced, where everything and anything pg-13 was directed straight out the window and anything else that took place was well on its way after the younger years had went to sleep; sauntering through the crowd you made way to your boyfriend— surprisingly barely tipsy, whomst was sat on the vermillion couch patting sirius’ back as he hoarsely coughed, seeing immense amounts of smoke flow out of his mouth and nostrils.

“too hard of a hit there, pads?” not even trying to be subtle about making a mockery of the boy hunched over the couch and puffing up smoke, the raven-haired bow slightly scowled at you before sauntering off to remus. you chuckled at his irritated-behaviour, and basically placing yourself on the verge of james’ lap, a smirk forming on the apex of his lips.

“had enough yet, dear?” you felt the vibrations of his mumble hit directly on the shell of your flushed ear from the humidity in the room, and the gruff undertone of his voice sending immediate signal waves all over the depths of your nervous system. feeling the colossal gitter in your system, borderline-anxiety pooling into the pit of your belly from his tone of voice.

it wouldn’t have been your first time with james, he was the first boy that had ever taken you all the way. but you definitely weren’t experienced— per-say, and you wanted to continue that tremendously sexual odyssey with him; and tonight, was unquestionably not going to be portrayed as innocent.

“mhm, getting there; are you liking the party?” you spoke back to the bespectacled boy was covered in a carnal aura, and awaiting your response. “i am, much rather spend alone time with you, but it’s phenomenal that you could pull all this off.” james whispered back at you in response, he wasn’t even attempting to be subtle at this point of his true intent with you, i mean— ‘alone time’ his purpose was set crystal clear.

he could so play this game, but you could just play better; it’s not like it was quidditch.

“‘course it would be, me and alone, how enticing.” you were ridiculing him, it was obvious to any peering eyes that could’ve been eavesdropping on the conversation over the deafening music that had been blasted in a continuous loop throughout the duration of the party.

“enticing it is, that’s why i presume we get out of here. don’t you think? ‘ve got a few suprises for you, after all.” the boy proposed to you with sensuality lingering in his tone and he spoke to you. he was venereally whispering into the shell of your ear so he wouldn’t have to shout to you over the boisterous music.

“your birthday, a surprise for me, those don’t exactly go hand in hand. what’s the surprise for, hmm?” starting to question the reticent boys motives as his fingers trailed onto the apex of your thighs in light-weight movements in small swirls close to the hemline of your skirt.

“not a day where i don’t want to surprise, m’girl. it’s upstairs.” james looked at you ponderously as you creased your brows in faux-thought. you knew where you would be in the end of the night, it made you feel electrified. like every single touch was oversensitive and every single emotion of yours was in overdrive; the most prominent that were roaming around your bloodstream being pure arousal.

your finger agilely-danced up the side of his jawline, and swirling around his brunette tendrils in thought. would he leave his own birthday party to be all alone, with you? i guess he certainly would. sirius would be impressed following with a concerning applause he would give the both of you that could have your mother gritting her pearly whites by the extensive amount of scandalous acts you had partaken in with your boyfriend.

you could play his very own game, maybe better. swivelling your body to the point where your hand landed on the ripple of his navy blue jeans feeling the tightening feeling of his beseeching cock that was partaking that very second, and feeling the shell of his ear start to burn at the touch of your lips and whispering a small, “take me to your dorm.”

pulling away with a slick smirk practically glued to your lips, seeing the flash of warmth scrummage up the boys cheeks in pride of his love wanting an escape with him. he was in fact one to brag, and he verily adorned that you would always be right by his side, not letting his gates open up with scoundreling waves of jealous flow throughout his body at the memory of another boy hitting on you few hours previously.

feeling the glide of his hand effortlessly slide into your smaller one, and his guidance towards the deep mahogany flooring of the stairs. the couple heard a whistle in the distance. the both of you compliantly turning around to see a tall-drunken raven-haired boy sat on a love seat. his arm around an ebony-haired lycanthrope, waggling his dark brunette eyebrows and blow a small kiss at you both. seeing remus fit out a small chuckle as his eyes roamed back to sirius. cute.

his hand sliding out of yours as he guided you up the antiquated stairs with the placement of his hand right above the swell of your bum directly into his dormitory that would guaranteed be unoccupied for the rest of the evening to the early hours into the morning.

as soon as the squeak of the door end and you heard the shut of the door you back was immediately arched against the wood on the now-locked door. his hand was directly sitting on the column of your neck in a hold, the pads of his fingertips slightly squeezing the sides of your neck; feeling your pulse heighten in anticipation. “c’mon bunny, you didn’t think i was finished just yet, did you?” the whisper of his mockery was warm as his hot breath fanned over your ear.

“yes... daddy.” you delayed whilst whispering to the boy, still getting used to all the pet names that had been thrown around since your relationship had begun. his mind was starting to get bleary and a dominant headspace was taking over every nook and cranny of his mind, ready to please you.

he felt the anxious bob of your gulp in his palm as you maintained eye contact with him. he rose a brow at you in a silent question, as if he was asking, ‘do y’remember the safe word?.’ you rapidly nodded in silent response as he grinned at your shy smile; pushing the strident music into the back of your mind that had been booming from below you.

he gazed at you for a moment before catching your plush-cushion lips with his own, feeling your lipgloss glide across his lips like a smooth paint. your tongues greeting eachother like old friends, the simple taste of fire whisky glazing your tongue. he felt the mundane taste of your strawberry lipgloss catch onto his taste buds as his one hand grasping your throat guided you all the way over to his ivory-comforter clad bed.

your body assertively falling onto his mattress, feeling his body weight hovering over the midst of your torso , one of his hands heavily grasping at your waist. “you’re making it difficult to gentle, darling.” his murmur landed directly on your lips, the shimmer from your lipgloss on his lips prominent as he hastily spoke; saying his sentence rapidly before pushing his lips back onto your own.

“then don’t.” you confirmed to him, whispering between kisses directly on his mouth. wanting every ounce of his unfamiliar belligerent take place. his inure hand that had a previous strict grasp on your waist now dancing across the flesh of your abdomen after your shirt had risen up from your skirt.

in a millisecond of mid separation of your lips he suctioned them onto the column of your throat, rolling the flesh of your neck in between his pearly-white capped teeth. his hand that had remained of your throat departed and now grasped at the root of your hair so your neck was at his full disposal. his breath approachingly quickening as he proceeded to mark up your throat with tinges of plum and cherry hues.

he took a hold of the hemline of your ivory-top, sliding it up your torso and pulling it directly off of your body and onto the floor of his dormitory. “mine... all mine.” he murmured to himself as he looked at you in vast glory. the best birthday present ever.

you clutched onto the bottom of his shirt, feeling the loose fabric between your nimble fingers and sluggishly pulling on it in a signal for him to undress. he saw the deep intent look gazing into your irises, your pupils basically exploding in lust as you continued to gape at the boy.

he straddles your legs for a moment his upper torso on display as he grasped at the neckline of the shirt and swiftly pulling it off of his toned body, now returning and remaining his hover over yours. he furthered to continue nipping at your collarbones. “if anyone ever thought they could love you like i could, fuck you like i could, make you cum like i could. they’re wrong.” he spoke into the crevice of your neck continuing his work at sucking marks into you.

his hot kisses overwhelmed your senses as his lips got closer to the hemline of your skirt that you had been wearing all that, the skirt eventually riding up your thighs all on display at your previously dancing figure like a show. his hand plummeting to the back of your skirt, feeling the small cold zipper on his finger tips as he dragged it down the swell of your bottom and trailing it down the planes of your adorned thighs he so effortlessly paid attention too.

feeling his lips sponge from your lower thighs all the way back up to your neck your breathing extended immensely whilst feeling his grasp of jealousy on your body. james was truly attentive, but he resented when anyone else thought they could swoop you away from him like you were nothing; because you were everything.

he hooks his pointer finger under the chisel of your chin, blasting your gaze right into own. his eyes moving erratically over your face as he was in deep thought of his word choice. “you’re mine, aren’t you?” he simply wasn’t asking this for an actual answer, rather than a test of your obedience towards his dominance over you for the remainder of the night as he fucked you into oblivion.

“yes.” you complied to him, not fully giving into him just yet. a playful tease before the fun could truly begin, pulling your lips into an extravagant pout as his thumb dipped into the cleft of your chin with a tightening grip. “yes, what?” you may have been stubborn but so was he, james wasn’t foolish and moderately knew the game you were playing at wanting the relatively familiar words to leave your mouth.

“yes, daddy.” your compliance towards him brought great pride and satisfaction in the swell of his heart, you would be the first and last person he would say that too. it brought him tremendous gratification that everything you had been taught was from his knowledge and his teachings.

“wanna suck your cock, daddy. teach me, again please.” your voice had an undertone of a whine lacing it, pleading out to your boyfriend so you could pleasure him on his birthday. he smirked at your demeanour of perseverance, quickly flipping his body underneath yours so your remained on top of the shirtless body.

you further swivelled your body down his form, nosing at his happy trail. kissing all the way to the point of his boxers, seeing the adamant print of his bulge through the fabric of his underwear. mumbling a quick ‘lift up’ and stroking his prick in your hand. your warm saliva coming in contact with his erection, spreading it around him for easier access.

your bleary eyes made direct view at his precum leaking tip, starting at mini-kitten licks that could have the boy groaning going off of intuition. “fuck, baby, just like that— keep going.” his praising going straight to a churning burn of warmth in your lower abdomen, heavily breathing as you took his tip into your mouth and prodding it with your tongue.

you took your mouth off his prick for a moment, steadying your breath before you took him in fully. going lower and lower trying to avoid the pesky gag reflex in your throat. you heard the grunts approach deeper and deeper from his mouth the more you took him in. one hand stroking the base of his cock, your cheeks nearly hollow as your sucked profusely nearing him to an orgasam in almost minutes.

his fingers were threaded through your tresses as you moved up and down his shaft. his guidance helping you as you throughly swirled your tongue onto his cock. your breathing quite deep through your nose. his own release near, his torso was clenching at the feeling of a tremendous boil in his abdomen about to burst through him entirely and directly into your mouth.

you felt the warm ropes of his release shoot directly down into your hollowed cheeks is one duration, swallowing his cum that had coated the walls of your cheeks now thoroughly down the vermillion walls of your throat. you took your mouth off of his prick, lines of spit surrounding his cock and covering your lips like it was your own personal brand of lip gloss rather than the simple strawberry one you had on previously.

you gaped at the boy trembling in pleasure, seating yourself upon his lap. you bit your lip in angst for a moment, feeling the easy glide of your teeth directly on your swollen lips, further opening your mouth showcasing him your clean tongue. he shot you a grin in fulfillment, grasping the roots from the back of your head and quickly pushing your lips together in one breath.

as you were sat upon his bare lap he took the liberty to shift his hand up the crevice in your back, all the way up to the stygian-laced material of your bra. his one hand loosening the metal clips and flinging the black material right across from your skirt. taking it upon himself to take a taut-grasp at your breasts mid-kiss rolling the bud of your nipple between his fingers, electrocuting a groan emitting from your mouth directly vibrating onto his own lips.

as his grasp removed itself from your breasts it made way back to the depth in your lower back, using the moment to propel you underneath his larger form. “such a pretty little baby, you are.” the boy claimed as his hand re-attached it self to your violet-ridden neck. james’ opposite hand had a tense grab at the strap of your thong, snapping it once against your flesh seeing you slightly tremble at tinge of affliction in his grasp before he fully tore them off your waist.

the bespectacled boy flung the flimsy material directly onto peters bed, seeing your eyes widen at his audacious-like manner. “alright, poppet?” the boy confirmed, on the outside of his dominant persona it looked like he was making a mockery at your somewhat skittish-behaviour, but he truly wanted to confirm you were alright with his aggressive-like actions.

you quickly nodded excitedly at his abrasive behaviours. a smirked grazed his lips as he separated your locked legs from mortification, even after having sex with your boyfriend you still happened to be embarrassed on how sterling he could make you feel. he finally took liberty to realize how wet you truly were, not to mention how pathetic you were at covering it up. finally slotting his middle and ring finger in-between your anticipating cunt, collecting juices onto the pads of his fingers.

“all f’me, huh baby?” he crooned in a ridiculing manner, his hand still prominent on your throat and his thumb maneuvering from the crook in your throat to your jutted lip, feeling your gloss mixed with your spit on the pad of his thumb as he moved his finger swiftly back and forth in a taunting manner on your lips.

his thumb finally caught in between your teeth with a miniature playful bite, looking deep into his lustful blown-cerulean irises. his thumb making way to pull down your dewy bottom lip, and it pulling back up with a small ‘pop!’

“i want you, i want it rough.” the very plead left your trembling lips in desperation. felling the wet print of his thumb right below your lip, pressing into the flushed skin. emotionally yearning for his slack touch, the warmth of his olive skin aching directly into yours in desire.

his prideful grin scorned his face as he placed himself between your cage-like legs that dressed the sides of his waist like a stiff belt. the both of you were almost chest to chest, the emotional connect building between you both as you maintained lustful eye contact, both intently aching for each other. the squeeze of his digits on the baluster of your throat grew more intense as he settled his hips between your plush thighs.

he slowly dragged his tip through your glistening folds gathering all of your juices directly onto the mound of his cock and slowly descending into the depths of your cunt allowing you to adjust to his substantial size.

he started off with slow, deep thrusts, feeling your torso pressed up against his own in abundance. tensing his clap on the side of your throat as he pulsed in and out of your sloppy cunt; now easily as his thrusts gained a brisk pace in and out of you.

“my girl, letting me use her cunt at my disposal.” james started to babble small praises mixed with degrations into your ear as both of your orgasams began to subtly approach at his quickening pace inside your clenched cunt. “like you’re my little toy.” his derides causing your moans to spurt out of your mouth instinctively; your noises sounding like a beautiful song that could’ve played on a broken record repeatedly, like he was being hypnotized.

the sensitive burn in your belly was further approaching at a brisk speed as it swivelled from the crevices in your spine all the way to your core. “‘m gonna— let me cum, please. ‘m gonna cum, daddy.” you blubbered quickly at the intensity of his thrusts on your g-spot. feeling immensely full from him being buried inside of you, his unfamiliar yet sensational rapid thrusts building tension inside of your abdomen.

“go on poppet, cum for me.” he crooned to you as you mumbled pleas of ‘thank you’s.’ and explosion of pleasure strictly taking over the planes of your nervous system whilst his pubic bone continuously thrashed against your bundle of nerves in the midst of his swift thrusts.

his cock twitching whilst wrapped around your cunt, close to his second orgasam of the night. further, releasing deeply into your velvet walls now coated with his release, a grunt following as he squeezed the sides of your throat, his hand never departing from it, and burying his face into the side of your neck.

his hover over you now remaining seeing your pleasure-struck face as he pulled his softening cock out of you, catching his breath and shifting the hair that was stuck to your forehead now on the sides of your face and behind your ears. he kissed your damp forehead once, swiping his nose against yours affectionally before speaking.

“c’mon dove, let’s get you to the shower.”

taglist: @kittykylax @ronbrokemyheart @aspiringsloth20 @amourtentiaa @msmb @five-cups-of-coffee @emmaev @serenitywilderness @famdomhideout @hufflepogue @dear-luna @luvvninaz @miraclesoflove @black-like-my-soul

[crybabykiko]

Hot Fuss, Full Panic

Pink Lips: Semi Eita x f!Reader

Warnings: this banner being bad, alcohol/drinking, sex under the influence but really it’s like maybe 2 shots for liquid courage- idk of lipstick counts as marking but fuck it we ball, unprotected sex, sex outside... in an alleyway, orgasm denial on his end, semi calls reader ‘toots’ yay sleazy musicians

Wc: 2.7k... well 2698 to be exact but we round up in this house

A/N: yes this is named after both a killers album and a lipstick. For the lovely Two in the Pink, One in the Kink Collab by the Sewer. I loved writing this it’s been done for weeks now and I’m so excited to see everyone else’s! Check the mlist here and support all the other creators, bc it’s v sexy! ~squeak squeak~ 💕

“You all alone tonight?”

“I’m alone every night, Sem,” you chuckled, continuing to clamor through empty glasses, wiping the sticky, rum-coated bar clean. Knowing him by name, you quickly poured up his usual gently sliding it his way. Jameson & Ginger Ale, for nights when he performs- any other time he’d get through the night on a few Dark n’ Stormys, saving at least 2 Kamikazes for you throughout the night until he stumbled back into whatever sewer hot pseudo-troubled musicians came from- probably one downtown, not too far from you.

“Well yeah, but no one’s bought you a shot tonight…”

He raised the glass to his lips, slowly knocking back down the stiff one you poured. He grimaced, clearing his throat and pushing the glass back toward you, blowing out a whistle as he cleared his throat.

“It’s Valentine’s Day, I don’t think anyone would like it if their date bought the bartender a shot.”

He pointed to the silver bottle of Milagro on the top shelf, sending you a wink. Taking the hint, you let out a half laugh- grabbing two double shot glasses and tiny slivers of lime, pouring both glasses to the rim.

“To a day just like any other,” you sighed, leveling yourself with him. Your disdain for February 14th was just as palpable as the months of innuendo laced conversation and shared shots with the local band’s d-list ‘celebrity’ frontman- the mutual desire pulling ahead by just a hair.

“To a wallet full of tips and a bar full of people getting lucky,” he shot back, tapping his glass with yours. The tequila was smooth, but being your first shot of the night, the burn was present and crisp as it went down, sending a shiver up your back. You slapped the shot down, pink lipstick stain imprinting the glass as you harshly sucked down your lime. Semi slid a $20 across the bar to you. As you neatly tucked it in your bra and took the glasses, he stood up to adjust his shirt and get his bearings.

“Have a good set!” you called after him. But he was already in the crowd. A sliver of light expanded and disappeared as you watched him slip into the backstage opening.

“Here ya go boys- on the house.”

The small tray you carried into the bar’s makeshift green room was filled with glasses of pink drinks, each adorned with a little lime slice and sugared rim.

“Pink Whitney… how original,” one of his bandmates remarked, knocking back the glass and setting it on top of a rusted filing cabinet.

“Be grateful,” you scoffed. “It’s the only thing I could manage to sneak past here for free.”

A chorus of sighs and clinking glasses resounded in the room, reassuring you the band would be happy regardless of what drew alcohol you bought them for the night. As long as the guys had an ounce of liquid courage before their set, you knew it’d go off without a hitch. You noticed one of the glasses still full on your tray- and Semi was nowhere in sight.

“Hey where’s-“ you started to ask, not really expecting an answer.

“Probably out back smoking,” a voice answered before you could even get his name past your lips. Picking up the small offering, you had half the mind to guzzle the glass down on your own- after all, it was already starting to water itself down. You poked your head up against the tiny door window, peering out slightly before sticking your head out to find the musician in the middle of his usual pre-show activities.

“There you are.” You spotted him.

He was leaning against the wall of the brick paved alleyway, cigarettes pursed between his lips.

“You shouldn’t be smoking those y’know,” you teased, bounding over to him. Finishing his drag, his smoke plumed into the crisp night air. His eyebrow cocked toward you as he placed it back to his lips. Gingerly, your own fingers scissored around the white tube, pulling it from his mouth and bringing it to your own lips with a soft smile, taking a deep inhale.

“They’re bad for your voice,” you exhaled away from his face and into the night. The mouthpiece was now coated in the same rosy markings as your shot glass. You stamped it out, much to his dismay.

“You got something better?” He asked, cocking an eyebrow.

With a pursed-lipped smile, you pushed the pink concoction to his lips, the sweat from the ice causing the sugar to run down the rim and over your hands. As Semi sucked the drink down, the glass was ripped from his lips and replaced by two of your saccharine coated digits. His tongue suckled your fingers as you pulled them out with a wet smack, neatly tucking them into your own mouth, then trailing the hand down your body to dry at the hem of your skirt. Your eyes fell just in front of his, glossed over in a heavily lecherous gaze. His lips found yours suddenly, hungrily- the fading flavor of pink lemonade and sugar on both your tongues as his body caged yours into the wall. Your face felt hot and your head was barely swimming from the rush of the shots you’d taken prior, but the surprise of the contact had knocked enough air out of you that you were gasping into the kiss, clawing at the back of his dip-dyed head of hair. The small glass in your hand slipped through your fingers, shattering and sending shards scattering against the asphalt beneath you.

The back door swung open, a head peeking out just enough behind the frame.

“Yo, Semi!” It was one of his bandmates, sticking his head out of the door. “Hurry it up we’re on in 10!”

He clamped a head over your mouth, sticking his head back to yell unintelligibly- or at least you couldn’t hear with the blood rushing to your ears and heartbeat pounding in your head. The loud thud of the heavy door tore through your spine, snapping you back into this present moment: the one in which you’d basically just made out in a cold, damp alleyway with Eita Semi- on Valentine’s Day. Of all days, you just had to do something about the months of mounting sexual tension between you two… on Valentine’s Day.

He moved his hand, freeing your lips as he checked to see how clear the coast was before turning back to you.

“I think I can get you there in 8,” the way he whispered reverberated in your chest and core almost simultaneously. His lips connected to your neck, slowly tracing upward, stopping to nip at your earlobe.

“Whaddaya say?”

He was telling you more than asking at this point, closing the finite space between you and already starting to slowly hike up your skirt with his fingertips. His eyes had become tenfold darker than originally, and the head rush you were feeling left you little to no time to oblige, not that you didn’t want to anyway. Your head began to loll to the side as it flew back, allowing him more access to your neck, his tongue gliding against the exposed skin while his calloused fingers began toying at your already exposed, and already slick pussy. You were putty in his hands at that point- no matter if you never wore underwear in the first place.

“Fuck,” Semi hissed against your collarbones. “No panties and you’re already nice and wet for me, hm? What a nasty little thing… good girl.”

He traced the pad of his index finger up and down your slit, collecting your essence as you shuddered yet again under his tough, a soft whine spilling from your throat. He couldn’t hold back a laugh, teasing you gently while grinding his bulging cock into the soft flesh of your exposed thighs. Your hands balled at the fabric of his shirt as you lifted it just enough to find his belt buckle, fidgeting with it and having absolutely no care for the heavy metal pieces rapping against your knuckles- if anything the small twinges of pain only added to the euphoria you were already starting to drown in.

“Hurry it up Y/N, we only got 7 minutes left…”

Obeying his command you unzipped his jeans, immediately hooking your thumb between the waistband of his boxers and the skin of his lower abs. You started to sink to your knees as you freed his cock from the confines that held him, mouth already watering. Just as you parted your lips, though, a harsh tug of your hair pulled you back onto your feet, spinning you and pressing your face against the cold brick. Your skirt was now pulled completely up and at your hips as Semi pushed your back down, arching you at his perfect level and holding your arm behind your back.

“Ah-ah,” he reprimanded with a smirk, sending two rough slaps to the meat of your ass. “Not enough time for that toots- maybe after the show.”

He lined himself up with your now glistening hole, teasing it with the tip for a few swipes before beginning to prod at your pretty pink insides. The stretch was slow and searing, but you were so wet that your walls immediately sucked him in, offering barely to no resistance. Your face pushed impossibly further into the wall in front of you as he started to build up an even pace, the head of his cock just barely grazing against the spot inside of that would render you absolutely and irrevocably cockdrunk.

“S-sem-ah-fuck!” Just as you started to speak he pulled out completely, arching your back even more as he buried himself deep in your aching pussy. Your back arched like that of a cat’s- leaning into the sensation with a wild, lewd mewl. He was speeding up now, groaning as he watched you coat his cock with a milky white sheen.

“That’s it,” he spanked you several more times, coaxing you to fuck yourself on his length as he spread your ass apart for a better view. “You think you can get yourself off on my cock in 5 minutes? C’mon, you can do it- go ahead, it’s all yours…”

You felt yourself growing even slicker at his words, his voice was like velvet and he wasn’t even singing. You started working your hips so fervently, so earnestly against him that the pace you were going had you white knuckling the railing next to you for stability as he continued to pull you down onto him with the hand behind your back. The smacking of skin against skin filled the air of the dark, damp alley, echoing out into the street as you could see the hazy lights of cars passing by though your eyelashes. His hands found your hair, pulling you up and back into him, matching the speed of his own thrusts to yours.

You could barely get out anything other than choked out moans and gasps. As you got closer and closer to your high, you started to feel dizzier and dizzier. You could feel your insides slowly starting to flutter as your conquest slipped from where you needed him, the displeased moan was halfhearted as he flipped you back around, closely holding your head into his chest.

Semi hoisted your leg up, holding it up at the knee, pushing the head of his cock just past your gleaming lips, walls greedily pulling him in with a slick smacking sound made by your wetness.

“Please, I’m so close- ‘mso fucking close,” you sobbed, rubbing your face against his chest. He smelled like cigarettes, cardamom and sweat. Combined with the carnal scent of sex wafting through the outside air, you gritted your teeth as your walls started to spasm and clench around him.

“Good girl, ngh- good fucking girl.” His praise had you spilling over, gushing over his cock with a shrill cry of his name into the night. He didn’t ease up, fucking you though the high, clutching you closer as your body went limp on your comedown.

“Time’s up, toots- but I’m glad you got what you wanted.”

Your breath was shaky and haggard as he pulled out of you, neatly trying to tuck his still hard cock into his pants. You were too hazy to make a point at how he hadn’t cum, but he helped you into your feet and up the stairs leading back to the green room. He picked up his guitar, swinging open the door and letting you go through first, leaving you sprinting on wobbly legs to your post at the bar.

“Y/N!” He called after you. You whipped your head back, mouth still ajar and eyes glossed over as your thighs continued to tremble.

“Stick around after we finish the set- I’ve still got to get what I want,” he said, flashing you a smile dripping with self- righteousness.

You still nodded though.

Creeping back behind the bar, you stopped just in time to not be noticed by the other 2 girls working with you that night, falling right into the chaos and clamor of everyone getting a drink before the house lights started to dim.

The lights on staged tuned a neon pink as Semi and his band took the stage, the chorus of screaming fans and adoring groupies filled the small space so much so that it felt like a stadium show, so much for the feeling of being a small town secret.

“Hey everyone, we are Hot Fuss”, he said into the mic, the cheers once again following as he set up with his guitar, the strap resting softly against the three undone buttons of his shirt- the shirt covered in the soft pink that previously adorned your lips. It was Everywhere, perfect little smeared kiss-marks, ever present reminders of how he had you bent over in an alleyway not even five minutes earlier, fucking you within an inch of your sanity. He shifted the guitar to rest behind him, exposing his chest, and the perfect imprint of your lips adorned his soft skin, the light giving it a glow almost, another round of mostly feminine squeals pierced the air again as someone whistled at the sight of Semi’s tousled physique.

“What’d you get up to Tonight, Semi-Semi?” His drummer teased, egging on the crowd. Your cheeks were so hot you felt like you’d melt. Semi just laughed, taking a soft strum while tuning his guitar onstage, leaning into the microphone and sending a look toward the back of the bar.

“I’m just dressed for the theme,” he joked, winking at several girls in the crowd. He strummed a couple more notes, pushing up against the microphone stand- and showing of his still present bulge, thick as the mic handle in his hand.

“We’re very grateful that all of you chose to be here tonight instead of getting laid,” he began, keeping the banter engaging while the rest of the band continued to set up.

“The night is young though, I guess.  And hey, the bar’s still open,” he looked back again, this time seeming to scan for you. You could feel him on your skin still, his touch was feather light, yet lingered on your skin so heavily.

“Ask your bartenders to help you get lucky!” The crowd laughed again, this time earning a lot of raunchy cheers from the men in the audience.

“All right enough shooting the shit though, you all came here for music, right?”

Loud applause filled the bar again as you stopped to watch him, propping your elbow up and onto the bar, fixating your eyes to see him in the shades of pink across a sea of heads.

“Well then let’s do it. Our first song for the night is very fitting…”

He found you. Your eyes locked on one another and stayed still. You could feel your heart freeze as you ran cold. He winked at you.

“Sing along if you know this one… it’s called Valentine.”

[aminiatureworld]

A Little Rest II

Characters: Xiao, Zhongli, gn!reader

Word Count: 2,104 

Warnings: Swearing

Premise: Sometimes life is just unbearably tiring. And a comforting shoulder can be the perfect substitute pillow. In which the reader falls asleep on their partner.

Author’s Note: Second part!!! I realize the first didn’t get a ton of traction, unfortunately, but hopefully, this’ll still be welcomed. I realize since most of these are basically pseudo fics, would you guys prefer it to be bullet-pointed or paragraphed? I’m just wondering if one format is easier or more pleasant to read than the other. 

Also, adepti’s rules and personal needs are kinda nebulous to me so I sort of made them up myself. Watches also weren’t a thing until the 1800s, and specifically didn’t really become a thing in China until the mid-20th century. But this is fantasy so I do what I want.

Xiao

You loved Xiao more than you could say. Every little moment spent with him made your heart flutter, every habit of his that you’d noticed, every little way he revealed his soul to you.

It seemed so improbable to you sometimes, than an adeptus, someone so very disconnected from the world of humans, should choose to love you. Although Xiao would never let you think you were any lesser than him, would never let his nature put you down, you were still somewhat in awe of the whole setup, and little reminders of his adepti status often brought you back to when you two had first begun to fall in love, when Xiao had explained that he didn’t quite understand the human way of life.

And one of those things that he didn’t understand appeared to be the concept of sleep itself.

It wasn’t that Xiao didn’t know what sleep was. Nor was he unable to sleep, he once told you. Theoretically he could sit down and take a nap much like any normal human. It was more that he didn’t need to sleep, and didn’t see the need to do something that took up so much time and left one so vulnerable.

Not that he didn’t pay attention to your needs; he wasn’t about to disrupt your sleep schedule on purpose, in fact you often joked that Xiao cared more about your rest than you did. It was only that, after spending so many years simply not thinking about things like sleep, it became hard for him to suddenly remember that he had a partner who needed said sleep every day. And a day was oh so short in Xiao’s mind.

It was a beautiful evening at the Wangshu Inn. The air was warm without being stifling and a breeze blew, light and cool. You were on the roof with Xiao, the place that had become your normal meeting spot. For as much as Xiao adored you with every fiber of his soul, he was still an adeptus, and his comfort level around most humans was that of an anxious cat – always ready to bolt.

Besides, the roof of the Inn was such a lovely place to relax. You gazed at Xiao’s profile as he looked up at the stars, noticing the way that the wind ruffled his hair slightly, the way his posture seemed so relaxed, so comfortable. One of his hands was clasping yours, fingers linked together, his palm nice and warm; the other pointed out constellations to you, each bearing a story, some which had long been forgotten by the residents of Liyue.

It wasn’t often that Xiao was so talkative, so open. Although he still barely mentioned his past – keeping that part of himself shut away with only the occasional crack through which you might learn of his sorrows – he’d become much more willing to disclose his everyday thoughts to you, as well as share stories that he knew. The latter was something you always loved to listen to, not just because the stories he told were always interesting and so full of life, but also because they gave you the sense of knowing him better, something that always made you happy.

Unfortunately, tonight was one night where, though you were more than happy to listen to Xiao talk about the stars, you were kind of dying of fatigue. A headache slipped in and out of your consciousness, and you found it more and more difficult to concentrate on Xiao’s words, finding they were all melting together into some semi-coherent monologue.

Your fatigue must’ve been very apparent, for when Xiao glanced over at you his whole demeanor changed; the carefree look on his face was gone, replaced with one of slight confusion and definitive worry. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine!” You shook your head. “Just a bit tired, that’s all.”

“Then you should rest.” Xiao squeezed your hand slightly before moving to stand up. However, as tired as you were, you cared more about spending time with him, and weren’t about to cut said time short.

“Wait!” You exclaimed, causing Xiao to pause, looking at you in a puzzled way. You smiled, slightly sheepish, but pressed forward. “I’ll be fine. If you don’t mind though, may I, uh, may I lay my head on your shoulder.” You gazed up at him, but inside you were struck with the urge to suddenly look away. Xiao was still a bit reticent with affection, not that it bothered you. He’d told you that he was simply unused to it, not averse to it. You weren’t about to pressure him into anything though, no matter the cause, and thus you waited for his response, hoping your expression conveyed that it’d be perfectly fine if he declined.

Your worries proved to be without ground however, for Xiao’s expression grew only fonder. Lying back down he gestured towards you. You gladly scooted closer to him, laying your head on his shoulder, hand once more in his. “You were saying about the boar constellation.” You murmured.

Xiao smiled, kissing the top of your head, before once more going on speaking about the stars. You smiled too, allowing his stories to carry you off to sleep, your head already swirling with half formed dreams about creatures who walked among the stars.

Xiao listened to your breathing even out, still talking a little after it seemed you’d dozed off, making sure that the sudden stop of his voice didn’t wake you up.

Gazing down at your peaceful face he pondered for a moment how much his life had changed so quickly. Even a month ago the idea that he would become friends with a human seemed impossible, much less that he would fall in love with one.

When he’d first met you it was as if something that had been frozen inside him for a long time began to thaw. He was terrified at first, terrified of you, terrified of himself, terrified of the unknown that loomed before him like a vast chasm. It had taken every ounce of courage to hold your hand at first, and every ounce of courage for every step after that.

But he would do it again if he had to, for being with you was the best part of his long, often cruel life. And he would do anything to protect you, anything to make sure you were comfortable and happy and healthy.

“Goodnight.” He spoke softly. Up above the stars kept silent vigil along with him. Tomorrow would be a bright new day, but for now he was simply going to enjoy the moment he’d been given with you.

 Zhongli

For someone who’d lived thousands of years, you’d think Zhongli would remember that tea had to be decaffeinated sometimes.

Not that you could really blame him for forgetting. After all it’s not like he needed to pay attention to whether or not his tea was caffeinated. To one of the Seven sleep was something more akin to a perk than a necessity. Sure, it was nice to sleep. But it’s not like Zhongli was going to feel regret if he accidentally downed five cups of tea right before midnight and spent the rest of night starting at the ceiling, wondering where he went wrong.

Unfortunately, you were definitively not a god, and did, in fact, need sleep. So, when you found yourself staring out the window at 5 am, having long come to the conclusion that sleep was just not going to happen, the emotion going through your mind was something more akin to: “Oh. Fuck.”

This turned into an “Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding me” when you saw the list of your daily commissions. Yeah, someone had to go to Jueyun Karst and Qingyun Peak to collect Cor Lapis, and considering your relationship with Zhongli and the adepti it should’ve been unsurprising that you were going to be the one to do it. But your sleep addled brain was having a difficult time processing things logically, and all you saw when you looked at the list Katheryne gave you was the fact that today was going to hurt.

Your prediction turned out to be only too true. No adepti came to ask why you were mining outside their front doors – honestly what would you even respond to something like that – but the amount of treasure hunters that ran into you began to feel less like a likely coincidence, considering the location, and more like a targeted attack. Thankfully there was nothing you couldn’t handle, but by the end of your expedition you were more than ready to go home and take a nap.

Hurrying through the rest of your day, barely responding to the people you interacted with, by the time you’d finally finished up with your adventuring duties you felt like the most irritated person on the planet.

Arriving home, throwing your pack haphazardly onto the floor you almost tripped and fell flat on your face in your hurry to get to the bedroom. Not bothering to take off your adventuring gear you threw yourself onto the bed and quickly found yourself lost in long overdue sleep.

Zhongli glanced at his watch, frowning as he saw the lateness of the hour. The sun was already beginning to set, and though he’d walked as fast as possible, he still found himself feeling vaguely guilty about being so late. You two hadn’t spoken much in the morning, you’d seemed a bit restless and hurried out right after breakfast, so Zhongli was anxious to spend as much time with you after work as possible.

“Darling?” He called out, walking into the home you two shared. He glanced around uncertainly, surprised that you hadn’t greeted him at the door. The sight of your pack sprawled about the hallway only made him more confused, and vaguely alarmed, and he hurried down the hall, checking each room to see if you were there.

His worry immediately faded upon seeing you, curled up above the covers, evidently fast asleep. Unsure as to whether or not to wake you up he instead headed towards the kitchen, thinking you might like something when you got up.

You woke up in the dark, something that surprised you. You’d been out for a long time. Seeing that the door had been opened you shuffled down the hall, still a bit groggy from the extended nap you’d just taken.

Zhongli smiled as you entered the kitchen. “Did you have a good nap my darling?” He asked, kissing you on the forehead. You nodded sleepily, propping yourself up by your elbows on the counter. Zhongli chuckled. “Here, something to warm you up.”

Yours eyes widened as the cup of tea was placed in front of you. For a moment there was silence, then you glanced back at him.

“Zhongli?”

“Yes?”

“Uhm, is this tea, well, does it by any chance have caffeine in it?”

The look on Zhongli’s face was enough to make you burst into giggles. Perplexion melted into realization, which evidently caused some sort of embarrassment, for the former god blushed a bright shade of red before bringing his hand to cover his mouth.

“Ah, I see. That’s why you were so tired this morning.”

“It’s alright.” You finally replied, the initial fit of giggles having passed. “I know that you don’t have to think about these sorts of things normally. Only me making the same mistake two times in a row would be a bit hilarious, wouldn’t you think” You placed a kiss on Zhongli’s cheek, finally causing him to calm down a bit.

“I suppose you’re right. I’m sorry. Next time I promise to pay more attention.”

“Thank you.” You smiled, fatigue coming back after the initial burst of energy. Leaning into Zhongli’s neck you sighed slightly.

“Still tired?” Zhongli asked, voice soft and caring.

“Yeah, a bit.” You admitted. Zhongli nodded, before scooping you up.

Carrying you over to the couch you both settled in a bit. Zhongli began humming a sort of lullaby, and you smiled despite yourself. “You’re too good for me.” You mumbled.

“Nonsense.” Came Zhongli’s reply, just as full of love and affection. “You’re too good for me. And I won’t hear otherwise.”

“If you say so.” You replied, too tired to really fire back, already drifting off.

“I do. It’s only the truth.” And with that he began to hum again. As you fell asleep one last thought lingered in your mind.

If such contentment comes from staying up too late, then I’d be glad to do it again.

[bastsoldtrollblog]

Kairos became, very distantly, aware of the fact that they were lying down on something soft.

Creeping along, their other senses followed suit. They were lying in a bed, a thick duvet over them, neither of which felt like the kind of thing found in a hospital. It didn’t smell like a hospital, either. It smelled like old wood, faintly tinged with the heavy scent of blood.

Their whole body also hurt. There wasn’t a square inch that wasn’t sore on a surface level, but the ache went down to their bones. This was familiar; The pain that followed magical overflow. They recalled the events leading up to this: Their superior grabbing them by the neck, again, and doing...Something to force their magic. They hadn’t used it willingly, not that they ever used that much power willingly, but they hadn’t even initiated it. She’d done something.

They finally opened their eyes, their vision bleary. It took several long moments of sleepy blinking for it to clear. Kairos took as deep a breath as their aching lungs would allow, and attempted to move. Attempt one was shifting their arms half an inch. Attempt two was shifting them an inch and twitching their back slightly up the pillow. They didn’t have an ounce of strength, and if they knew where they were they’d sure as hell stay laying down. But they didn’t know what happened, where they were. It wasn’t their former home, the castle belonging to their ancestor...

Whom they’d almost certainly seen, for a moment.

Trying to sit up hurt like fuck. They did so anyway, every bone, muscle, and organ absolutely screaming against the movement. They’d managed to get upright when the door opened; Great, someone to tell them to throw all this effort out the window and lie down again.

Kairos raised their head to see a jadeblood; An older woman with a kind, tired face. They’d seen her in the hall too.

Why had she helped them?

“Good to see you awake. Kairos, right?”

It took them a moment to find their voice, foggy with disuse.

“How long was I out?”

“Going on a week.”

Kairos closed their eyes, lowering their head to make it easier to bring their hand up to their face. They slowly rubbed the bridge of their nose, and gave a soft sigh.

“Where am I. And why am I here. I was ordered to kill you.”

“The hive of one of the trolls you were ordered to kill. Orders are orders. Provided you don’t continue to hold to them unnecessarily, we won’t hold it against you.”

The woman stepped forward to pour them a cup of water from a pitcher, and placed it in their hands. They drank, though they didn’t feel very thirsty despite being unconscious for nearly a week.

“What is that supposed to mean.” Kairos mumbled around the edge of the glass.

“Don’t try to kill us unless you’re directly ordered to again, basically.”

“You’re quite forgiving of someone you do not know.”

“Mira vouched for you. And Nirael is interested in you, regardless of where your loyalties lie.”

“Mira’s here, is he. And Nirael...I thought he was dead.”

“He is.” The woman confirmed. “A lich.”

Kairos hummed. It figures. “And you are?”

“Tosiol Hasiya, The Inspired. Nirael’s matesprit.” Tosiol sat down on the bed, laying her hands in her lap.

Kairos could think of nothing else to ask. They slowly began to replace the glass on the side table, their hand wavering until Tosiol moved it the rest of the way before they could have the chance to drop it.

“You should rest,” she said.

Kairos gave an ill-tempered hum in response and let themselves flop back onto the covers. “I should get back to the Fleet.”

“Well, you’re free to leave whenever you’re actually capable of doing so.”

“Urgh.”

[suck-my-tomato]

“ i don’t want to know what life is like without you. ”

~Lost The Meme~ @quiet-kunoichi

In all his years, the last hundred, Sasuke never once thought that he would have such a connection to someone. Let alone someone with a mortal lifespan. But here he was, a beautiful human girl laying in his arms as the curtains blew gently in the opened window of the fall dawn, her scent so strongly caressing his nose. The two of them spent a lot of time like this, intertwined together bare on top of his silk sheets, him counting every rise and fall of her chest and her cheek resting on his chest. She has known about him, about what he truly was, for a few months now and was quick to accept him, did not shy away from him nor feared for her safety around him… It was a refreshing change of life, not to hide from her anymore. Kimiko sighed, contently, in his arms and slowly started to awaken. “Good evening.” Sasuke murmured down to her, his lips pressed down against the side of her head and inhaled the scent of her sandalwood shampoo. The girl rubbed at her eyes with a closed fist before her own lips parted to mumble her own version. “Good morning.”

“Would you like me to cook you breakfast?” Funnily enough, he had adapted some human behaviors during their time together which included house husband duties. He made sure she was well fed at all times, sometimes untangling himself from her at the ass crack of dawn to fill his home with the smell of bacon sizzling on the stove or eggs cooking in the pan. The most mundane things, he was now enjoying again. But Kimiko shook her head at the offer, an arm going to wrap around the vampire’s bare torso as she held him (like she had the strength to hold him in place), lower lip turning into a small pout as she looked up at him from under long dark lashes. “I want to stay in bed, just a little longer.” That was reasonable, the sun was barely poking through the horizon and it was a Saturday, she had no classes to attend and he has none to teach. “As you wish.”

As suddenly as she had awoken, she had fallen asleep once again and Sasuke laid perfectly still as to not disturb her. The plus side of being what he was, he did not need to move to remain comfortable nor did he need to really move at all. If he wanted to sit still for months, watch the change of the season in one place, he simply could and has done so before few decades ago when he was contemplating if life even was for him. That was a dark time for him, the last of his family had died and he no longer had anyone remembering who he once was and visiting his ‘grave. He watched as his grave slowly, but surely, was retaken by nature with weeds, moss, watched the weather destroy the engravement of his name to a point it was no longer legible. What was the point to live when you were so forgotten? There was no way for him to kill himself, so he had simply taken himself to a secluded cliff on the opposite side of the country to sit and basically be a statue. What had gotten him to want to live once again? Pure spite, at that time, for the human race and jealousy for their mortal lifespan. Like most vampires, he was not turned against his own will and the sadness eventually subsided into anger which resulted in him wanting others to suffer like he did.

His life, until he went to work as an English professor when a switch of humanity turned on in him, was using humans to fill his own hunger, killing them when he got tired of them or turning them and vanishing from their lives so they could figure out the hardships just like he did. When he started at the school, his earlier habits were still in effect with his killing and feeding on humans, and he honestly planned to do just that with Kimiko when he first laid eyes on him. It was all planned out, luring the girl into his home under false pretenses of organizing his impressive library, gain her trust and then… lights out for her. It was all going good, she was in his home and trusting him, he had the prime opportunity to feed on her and drain her body of every ounce of blood that it held but then she looked at him, looked deep into his eyes with her melted pots of honey. The way of that look, as if she recognized him and has been searching for him, the glimmer of happiness that danced around her pupils, it paused all thoughts going on in his mind and all he felt was warmth around him.

She had awakened something that has been slumbering for such a painfully long time.

She had awakened his soul.

“Sasuke?” The girl in his arms had woken back up, but this time she was not happy sounding but sad. It raised an alarm in him and he took ahold of her chin gently between thumb and index to tilt her head up at him to take in her emotion. “What is it, love?” The tears were swelling up in her eyes, threatening to spill out onto her flushing cheeks. “I had a bad dream… I had a dream that you left me.” That stunned him but was so far off from what would really happen that Sasuke offered her a gentle smile to calm her sadness. “I will never leave you.” And that was the truth, he wouldn’t be the one leaving him. Sasuke will be there for her through every step of her life that was yet to come. He will watch her age with grace, learn all the spells that her little heart desires, watch her accomplish every goal she has set out for her life.

“I don’t want to know what life is like without you.” She nuzzled her tear stained cheek into his bare chest, holding onto him tightly and he returned the hold with chin now resting on the top of her head, but eyes were staring off into an unknown space as the reality set in. “You will never know what life is like without me, love.” She wouldn’t, she will always have him. Her life is limited, she will eventually die peacefully in her sleep at an old age and he will be the one forced to continue in the world without her… Sasuke smiled, sadly, at the thought of her passing but promptly shook the thought away. “Lets get dressed, I’ll make you breakfast.”

[the-blind-assassin-12]

The Sea Swept In

A/N: This is the first of the “Play the Hand You’re Dealt” request event, and...it’s a doozy. This takes place in the Core Drive storyline, roughly ten years before the current timeline. (I have to fuck around with timelines because it’s a Westworld fic. I don’t make the rules.)Basically,  I have some lengthy and detailed HCs about Logan and Juliet’s mother, the type of relationship that she had with Logan, and the impact that she has in his life. All we get about her are question marks, so I decided to fill them in the way I (unfortunately) think it went. Title comes from this song. 

Warning: lot’s of language. probably the most F bombs I’ve ever dropped in a single piece. Delicate subject matter

Word Count: 2,234 

Requested by:  @malionnes​ - Core Drive Logan, Angst, Secrets and Lies, & Illness or Injury

That fucking bastard. 

Logan used the back of his shaking right hand to wipe at his nose as he sniffed, heading for the door. Flipping it over, he dragged the palm over his mouth, pressing it hard over his lips. His fingers pushed into the flesh of his cheek, thumb squeezing his jawbone almost painfully before dragging his grip down over the meticulously groomed beard covering his chin. He let out a puff of air against his skin, closing his eyes to try to control the dizziness. 

He was livid, almost blind from the bright flash of anger.  I should have… fuck, I should have known, should have expected this. Dropping his hand from his face, Logan brought both up to the top of his head, stacking one atop the other before sliding them back over his hair and down the curve of his skull. Should have known this is how he’d handle it… He gripped the back of his neck and paused as he reached the door that connected the small sitting room to the main hallway to look over his shoulder. From here she looked even smaller, even more disconnected, the muscles of her face still holding onto the smile he’d put there, but the gleam in her warm eyes already cooling into confusion. Jesus, she can’t... he’s gonna kill her. He turned his head back around, blinking hard against the tears that blurred his vision. They weren’t from pity or even sadness, stinging the corners of his eyes- so much like hers- with red, radiant rage. I hate him, I- 

“Logan?” 

He froze at the sound of his name. Her voice was layered, the sweet, lilting tone he’d grown up with strangled like roses wrapped in vines under exhaustion and frustration. But she’s still in there, she’s still… and he’s… He swallowed and shook his father from his mind. I’ll deal with him in a minute. He cleared his throat and turned back around to face her, feeling the way that his eyes softened  as he did. 

“Yeah, Mom?” He heard his own voice separate and break, splintering into youthful innocence crushed beneath the weight of experiences and responsibilities that fell upon him far too soon.

A sudden sadness filled her eyes as her forehead furrowed in thought. “Did I…” She frowned. “I missed your birthday, didn’t I?” Her bottom lip quivered, and despite her question he could see in her face that she knew the answer. 

Shit, Mom, it doesn’t fuckin’ matter. Like the slow turning of a screw, Logan felt her pain twisting in his chest. He sighed. It would be easiest to lie, brush it off and tell her no, that she didn’t miss it, that it was still weeks away and that she had plenty of time. But even if the doctors and specialists hadn’t warned against using white lies to patch all the holes, Logan wouldn’t do that. He’d never lied to his mother before, even when telling the truth had gotten him in trouble, and he wouldn’t start now just to save himself some. She trusts me, I’m not gonna…

“Yeah, Mom,” he nodded and shrugged one shoulder, tilting his head to the side. “It was last Wednesday.” 

Her posture, already shrunken, fell even further as she dropped her shoulders in defeat. “Goddamnit,” she blinked twice, face upturned towards the ceiling before squeezing her eyelids tightly shut.  Disappointment was written in every tiny twitch of her lips and minute wrinkle in the skin around her eyes as they opened again. “Goddamnit...God...fucking… damn it.” She hung her head, a choked sound coming from her throat.   

Logan crossed back to where she sat by the open window, long white curtains rippling in the light lilac scented breeze. “Hey, it’s okay, Mom,” he shook his head, eyebrows drawn together as he knelt down next to her. He was reminded of all the times she’d soothed him as a child, stemming tears from scraped knees and aches from fevers with just the utterance of those few words- “It’s okay, Logan”- her long hair falling like a shield around him as she wrapped him tightly in her arms. It was okay then. This is… He tentatively reached out to place his hand on her arm. This isn’t okay, I can’t make this okay, it’s not the same. “Mom, really,” he pleaded gently, trying to push down the anger that still threatened to bubble back to the surface, trying to channel any ounce of the balanced tenderness and strength that she exuded in his memory. “Don’t cry, okay? It’s no big deal. I didn’t even,” he squeezed her arm to get her to look at him, giving her a small smile. “You didn’t miss anything. I had two finals, and then had to study for another one. So you didn’t,” he sighed. “You didn’t miss a thing, Mom,” he said truthfully. “Besides, 20’s not special. Next year’s the big one.”  

She wiped at her eyes with her free hand before dropping it back to her lap. “I tried, Logan, I tried to... I knew it was coming soon… I knew and I couldn’t…” She took a breath to steady herself, then brought her trembling fingers up to catch a piece of his hair between them, moving it back into place. “I’m sorry, Logan…” She pressed her lips together and sniffed, wrangling her spiked emotions with impressive restraint. “Happy Birthday,” she said, fingers trailing away from the side of his head. “I’m so proud of you. Always, always remember that.” 

The screws in the vice around his heart tightened more, threaded grooves digging deeper as her words hit him. You’re the only one who ever was, how could I forget? “I know, Mom,” he quickly dragged one knuckle under each of his eyes, swiping them dry as he leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. “I know you are.” He tried to stand then, intending to go speak with his father and unleash the violent rage that he felt, but she stopped him, shocking him with her physical strength as she wound her arms around his shoulders. Oh. He adjusted his stance, shifting to his other knee as he returned the embrace. “Hey, its-” 

“Don’t let him ruin you, Logan. Stay you, don’t let him…” She sounded more like she had the last time he’d seen her, before the start of the last semester that he’d just finished. Fuck, she means…he cringed, his father’s weathered, stoic face filling his mind. She knows, she still understands… she knows he, that he’s not...But before her words had made their full impact, he turned her head and the clarity was gone. “Oh, is that...did I paint that?” Releasing her grown son, she stood and took a step closer to the small canvas square displayed on the easel in the corner. 

Logan rose to his full height, cautiously following her. You were there Mom, for a second, you were back. He cleared his throat, gesturing to the painting that had been the first thing she’d told him about almost an hour ago. “Yeah.” He tried to catch the break in his voice but it slipped through. “Yeah, you told me that you did that one yesterday.” He watched her stare at it, his own eyes darting to the much larger, framed piece that hung nearby, one she’d done before he was even born. It depicted a cottage on the sea, the waves swirling in soothing patterns of greens and blues, delicate brushstrokes and intricate linework adding lifelike depth and dimension that always seemed magical to Logan when he’d watch her work. Do you remember what you were like? His eyes flicked back to the small square that she was transfixed by. It was covered with wide, waving swaths of blue and purple, the bottom corner a triangle of beige, white dots scattered throughout. What do you see there?     

He would have asked her, but she turned to answer before he could get the question out. “Can’t you hear it just looking at it?” Hear it? Hear what? He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, looking more intently at the blocks of color, the strained shapes. “The ocean?” He felt his eyebrows fly up. That’s? He looked back to the other painting, then back at his mother, at the wistfulness in her eyes that told him that she was far away, toes in the sand and sun warming her skin. She was there, in those rudimentary splashes of paint. That’s the ocean.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, Mom, I can hear it.” She smiled at him, cheeks going round to turn her eyes into crescents, the same way that his did when he was genuinely happy. “I’m… I have to go take care of some things, okay?” 

She nodded, arms crossed as she regarded her work. “Okay, I’ll see you later.” She said it with casual ease, the way she sounded when she’d send him and Juliet off to school each morning. 

“I’ll see you later,” he repeated. I promise. It was clear to him that she’d been absolutely starved for interaction, and he’d do anything he could while he was home to make sure that that wasn’t the case. Fuck, it’s like… it’s like he doesn’t want her to get better. 

By the time he’d reached the thick wooden door that led to his father’s study, Logan could hardly see straight, blinded once again by that flash of anger, of contempt. Knocking once, he didn’t wait for an answer, barging in without caring if he was interrupting anything. I don’t give a fucking shit, nothing he’s doing is more important that this, and he’s going to hear what I have to say.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing?” The stout, balding form of his father rose from his desk in outrage. “Don’t you know how to knock? When did you even get home, what are you-” 

But Logan hadn’t stopped advancing, closing the door behind himself and marching right up until only the intricately carved desk stood between the two men. Jim Delos’ beady eyes widened in surprise as his son’s fists slammed into the hard surface. The impact numbed his hands and sent tingles up into his elbow but he didn’t react. “You told me she was doing better. You told me she was fine, that the new drugs were working, and then you fucking…” He could feel the fire scorching his eyes, could feel his vocal chords shaking as he spat venom at his father who stood there blinking at him. “You leave her alone in there. All damn day. You leave her alone and she’s…” He blew out a breath. “She’s fucking dissolving in there and you...That’s my mother. That’s your wife and you don’t give a fucking shit because if you did, you wouldn’t fucking lie to me and, and tell me that she’s doing better when she’s not. You wouldn’t have her on these… these fucking pills that your fucking hack doctors came up with, you’d have her on that shit Regent put out last Fall and-” 

“Are you fuckin’ done?” The man had had enough, snarling at his son. 

Not even close, you goddamn bastard. Logan’s nostrils flared and his chest heaved slightly, breathing uneven from the pure, uncut anger coursing through him. “You gonna try to justify it?” He let out a dry laugh that held no humor. “Go the fuck ahead, I’d love to hear this one.”  

Jim shifted his weight and squared his shoulders. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to distract you from your schoolwork, your finals.”  

Is he fucking kidding me? Logan gripped the sides of his head before extending his arms out in frustration. “Finals? What the fuck are you talking about? She’s... “ She’s gonna fucking die, gonna rot away in there and… He felt tears prick at his eyes again and cursed to himself, heart sinking. 

“The one fuckin’ thing you’re good at is getting good grades. It’s the only thing you can do for this family, Logan- not fuck up. I knew if I told you the truth you’d come running back here, cryin and you’d throw everything away, we’d have the media on us in a heartbeat to rip open the company and-” 

Logan shook his head, hearing the words but not comprehending them at all. How is he… He blinked and looked at the man he’d grown up in fear of. How can he be so fucking cold… It dawned on Logan that there was nothing he could do or say to get him to change anything, to get him to admit his cruelty or even to caring about the woman staring at the canvas in the room down the hall.  “You disgust me.” He turned and left as abruptly as he’d entered, Jim shouting after him that he couldn’t just walk away, not while he was talking to him. 

Watch me, asshole. 

He spent the rest of his break with her. She told him about her painting every damn day. “I can hear it, Mom.” He’d tell her, a relaxed but tired smile curving her features as he focused on the sound of waves in his memory, wondering if she was doing the same. Doesn’t matter. I can hear it… I really can. It sounded like freedom, and he understood. 

.

.

.

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[jaehyukiewrites]

i love you.

2k words | fluff, w/ a dash of angst & soft smut

↳ reader + bestfriend!yuta

↳ ↳ 📁“i don’t want to but i love you.” - billie

it's not true, tell me i’ve been lied to

yuta and your relationship has been complicated, at least for him. you two have been friends for years and he was the only person who knew everything about you. your family, your wants in life, your fears...everything. he knew the pain that resided deep inside you. he knew how some nights were harder than others. he knew how much pain your ex had caused you. and when you would cry on the phone to him, he couldn’t help but feel this weird mixture of jealousy and anger. he hated that he did that to you. all yuta ever wanted to do was make you smile, laugh and give you all the pure things in life and seeing you so hurt over someone who could care less really hit a nerve. And when you called him tonight, in tears again he couldn’t take it anymore. he needed to tell you how he felt, even If you didn’t feel the same…you just needed to hear it from him.

“im coming to pick you up.”

“yuta-”

“bring a jacket and I’ll be there in 5.”

crying isn't like you, what the hell did I do?

you sat on the stairs that led up to your apartment building. where was he going to take you? you pulled out your phone turning it on, the blue light shinning onto your face.

battery 15%, 12:15pm

you sighed, stuffing your phone into your jacket pocket. there weren’t many cars on the road and the only people that could be heard were from the bar a few blocks down. you twiddled with your thumbs, until you saw yutas car down the road. you got up and stood at the curb waiting for him to pull up. once he did, you pulled open the door, getting in. you turned to face him, his eyes puffy and red.

“yuta? were you crying?” you voice filled with concern.

“no. don’t worry about it.” he said coldly, making you feel small. he put the car in drive and pulled out of the street.

“what the hell did I do?” you asked yourself. you were so concerned with your heartache and pain that you never once asked yuta how he felt. you sighed and slumped down into your seat.

it felt like you were driving around mindlessly for hours. every time you would ask him where you two were going, he would just smile at you and say

“it’s a surprise.”

god, sometimes he was such a tease.

you lifted your head to see out the window; what you saw, took your breath away. the buildings were alive with lights, as if someone had taken a handful of glitter and thrown it as far as they could. It was too dark to make out individual buildings, but the lights were enough. amazed by the view you called out

“yuta are you seeing this?”

he turned to see you, staring out the window aimlessly. an affectionate smile spread across his face, the way the wind blew your hair, and he couldn’t see your face, but he just knew you had stars in your eyes.

“yeah, it’s beautiful”

maybe won't you take it back? say you were tryna make me laugh

yuta stopped the car at the top of a hill, you turn to him with a curious look. he stares out of the window, trying to prepare his words.

“why’d you take me up here?”

he sighed loudly, pulling the keys out of the ignition.

“yuta?”  

“remember when we came up here in high school?”

“I don’t think so.”

“after homecoming? my girlfriend at the time threw her drink at me for dancing with you?”

you giggled quietly

“oh yeah. she was wild.”

“but she was hot.”

you two looked at each other and laughed, laughed so hard to the point where you couldn’t breathe. yuta tossed his head back, bouncing off the car seat. his smile was so big as he looked at you. the way the single lamp post lit up only one side of your face but not the other. the way your laughed filled the air. he felt so much for you, and in the most intense way.

once you stopped your giggle fit you turned in your seat to face him, looking down at your hands.

‘hey, im sorry for making everything about me lately.”

“y/n- “

“no listen. all ive talked about is me, and how im upset but I never thought to ask you how you are.”

he only responds by reaching for your hand with his, the action was common between you two. yet, each time it makes your heart skip a beat. you looked up at him, and he looked at you.

you didn’t mean to say "I love you"

“y/n…I love you.”

when he looked at you it was as if every ounce of your breath was taken from your lungs, floating into the air like smoke.

“what do you mean?”

“y/n, I’ve loved you for a long time.”  

your breathing became heavy, at a lost for words. your best friend of years, the boy that you went to prom with when your date didn’t show, the boy that had listened to all your heartbreak and tears…loved you. it didn’t make sense to you, there were so many other people who would throw themselves at yuta if he just asked, but he loved you. you didn’t feel worthy.

the smile that you gave me even when you felt like dying

“I…um…”

he traced his thumb along your hand, even though he felt like he was going to vomit he simply smiled at you. you looked at him, tears welling in the corner of your eyes. you were so overwhelmed, you didn’t know what to say…or what to do.

“don’t worry about it. take your time.” he reassured, letting go of your hand he started the car back up and drove you home in silence that night.

i love you and I don't want to

you walked into your bedroom and threw yourself on the bed, a loud scream muffled into your sheets. you didn’t know how he had gotten into your head. and you hate the fact that he can mess up with your mind just so easily. to be honest, you’re afraid of love after your ex. you’re afraid of the feeling that someone keeps stocking in your heart, making you wonder all night whether he had feelings for you too.

you know, that kind of pain. pains are caused by being rejected when you decide to give all your heart to someone doesn’t need it. pains are caused by opening your heart so easily and casually. and you knew deep down that you loved yuta. every time he would talk about another girl it felt like there was a lump in your throat…you knew there was always something more than a friendship, but you never admitted it.

up all night on another red-eye

and there you were, lying in bed, tears flowing down your face. you felt awful for how you reacted, and you couldn’t imagine how he felt. all you wanted to do was pick up the phone and call him. you just wanted to not to remember his shinny smile, his beauty when he laughed. then the memories with you two hold spills out of your mind again.

maybe we should just try to tell ourselves a good lie

even days later, you daydreamed about him, with you standing next to him, and him going on about something called ‘our beautiful love’.

whenever you wake up from the nightmare named ‘daydreaming’, you feel guilty instantly. here you were, accepting the fact that this could go somewhere but you haven’t texted yuta for days.

during work you sneaked into the break room and pulled your phone out of your work locker. you dialed yutas phone number.

it rang…and rang…and rang and you thought he wasn’t going to answer.

“y/n? hi.” he said breathlessly, and you smiled wildly.

“why are you out of breath?”

“im at the gym with jaehyun. um, not to push you off the phone but aren’t you at work?”

you giggled into the phone

“um, yeah I am but I needed to tell you something.”

you could basically hear the big smile across his face.

“oh? and what is it?”

“meet me at the hilltop at 5?”

“alright, see you then.”

we fall apart as it gets dark i'm in your arms in Central Park

you sat on the hood of your car as you waited for yuta. your brain was running a mile a minute. what do you even say?

“hey buddy im sorry I left you hanging there when you were vulnerable.”

no, does anyone even know what to say in a situation like this?

your thoughts were interrupted when you heard a car pulling up behind you, but you didn’t look.

the car door closed, and footsteps shuffled towards you, until you felt the weight of the car shift.

you both stared at the sunset for a few minutes, until you built enough courage.

“I love you too yuta.”

there's nothing you could do or say I can’t escape the way I love you

you traced his lip lightly with the tip of your finger. it pouts slightly, and you have such an urge to bite it, to kiss it, to wrap you guys up in a quilt and listen to your breathing, watching the blanket rise and fall. his lip feels slightly chapped under your light touches, but you couldn’t give a damn. You gazed so intently at each dip of that lip, but you don't want to look up. because if you look up, I may find myself at the mercy of questioning eyes, pleading, begging to know what I was doing.  his lips brush yours as he leaned closer. Not innocently, like a tease but hot, fiery, passionate and demanding. you wanted to pull away before you lost yourself, but you can’t seem to…in this moment, you can no longer think straight.

“y/n” he whispers slowly.

you smile, your heart fluttering at his voice as you clasped your hands on either side of his face. never has my name ever felt so wonderful, and you think…you leaned in all the way this time.

 there's nothing you could do or say I can’t escape the way I love you

even when you two made it back to your apartment you still were curious.

“why do you like me?” you whispered, tracing shapes on yuta’s arm.

“How could I not?” he replied, cupping your cheek so your beautiful eyes met his own.

he dropped his hand from your face and interlocked it with yours. you kissed each other tentatively, passionately and then, tenderly. he pulled your thick sweater up, over your head and you felt little sparks of static dancing over your skin. it’s a magical feeling and causes you to shiver in complete pleasure and ecstasy. his lips press against yours with so much affection as his warm hands roam all over your naked body, setting your skin on fire. “you’re so beautiful.” he whispers in your ear, feeling the his hot breath. “shut up and kiss me.” you whisper back. his lips gently brush yours and you smell his cologne as our naked bodies press together. he slowly massages your breast as you two kiss, causing you to arch your back and moan softly into his mouth. you roll your head to the side, your chest rising and falling under him. he smiles into the kiss as your fingers tug at his short hair and the other scratches at his back. “I love you.” you whispered as your eyes made contact.

I can’t escape the way, I love you

[ofjuliette]

[ brittany snow, thirty-two, cisfemale, she/her ] ━  did y'all see [ juliette “jules” hammond ] walkin’ into [ frostford public library? ] they’ve lived in frostford for [ sixteen years, ] and you can catch ‘em around town working as a [ librarian/author ]. I reckon they’re pretty [ effervescent & charismatic ] but I hear they can also be kinda [ garrulous & uncoordinated. ] if ya see ‘em around, be sure to say hi. ━ [ teenage pregnancy? ]

hey hi hello i’m hope and i’m watching scooby doo rn.  juliette’s intro is kind of long and i wasn’t sure if teenage pregnancy was technically a trigger or not so i just put it there just in case.  jules’ intro is kind of long but ??? she’s my baby.  there’s some wc at the bottom of the post but they’re p basic bc i’m trash™️ 

CHILDHOOD years -- 

juliette is the only daughter of marjorie and elias hammond.  she was born in greenwich, connecticut and lived in a big mansion.  juliette’s father is of old money and her mother is a former model turned socialite and housewife once juliette was born.  

juliette was born on november 19th, 1986 which was during the first big snowstorm of the year.  in fact, she was almost born in the car on the way to the hospital because of the snow.  

marjorie and elias never planned to have more kids, so they were happy with juliette and spoiled her with everything she could have ever wanted.  

in her childhood juliette spent a lot of time doing modeling ads for baby clothes.  marjorie was very much a “pageant mom” for the first five years of her daughter’s life until elias convinced marjorie to let juliette pick her own passions.  

juliette picked the arts and took piano and vocal lessons, when she got older she also learned other instruments such as the guitar, violin, and flute.  but her favorite would always be piano.  

she went to private school in greenwich, where she had to wear a uniform and the school was all grades.  

juliette was one of the smartest in her school, and wound up skipping two grades in elementary school because she wasn’t being challenged enough.  

during her early years there were many vacations that her parents would take her on and she often went into the city to visit her father at work or catch a broadway show with her mother.  

her father worked long exhausting hours and her mother often filled her time with chairing certain social events and causes.  

jules was often left alone after school in the care of their maid/nanny/chef winifried.  winnie is the adult who gave juliette the nickname of jules first, and winnie was with her all her life until she turned thirteen and her parents decided they didn’t need a nanny anymore.  winnie was also older at that point, so they hired someone new to help around the house for a couple of months until winnie retired.  

juliette was always outgoing as a kid, loved talking to new people and making friends.  she was the kind of kid who wanted to make sure everyone felt included.  and she was popular, if not just for her parents money and connections, but also for her own charismatic and charming personality.  

as a child she often entertained the idea of becoming a singer or somethin in the spotlight like her mom, but as the years went on it was harder and harder to hold onto a dream like that.  

TEENAGE years -- 

juliette was never a rebellious type, as she was content with how her life was.  sure, if she had things entirely her way she would have spent more time with her parents but otherwise juliette was a happy girl.  

she was still in touch with her old nanny once winnie left the household, often writing her letters and calling the woman whenever she felt she needed someone to talk to. 

in her early teen years juliette decided she wanted to go back into acting in commercials and such.  this led to a couple of claire’s commercials and even a guest spot in a mary kate and ashley olsen film ( winning london, if you want to know ).  

acting and singing were a big thing during her schooling.  she was always involved in the drama department in some form if it wasn’t on stage it was backstage helping out.  

she got to be good with a needle and thread, sewing a couple of mishaps in her high school productions to save money on sending them out.  

juliette was in a couple of local competitions for singing, but never anything big.  she did sing the national anthem at her high schools games though.  

juliette was in a pretty serious relationship at the age of fifteen-sixteen with someone in her high school.  they were two years older than her, since she had skipped a couple of grades, and she sincerely thought she was going to wind up marrying him after graduation.  

except at the end of september juliette was going to her doctor for a check up when she found out she was pregnant.  of course, her mother and father were shocked.  and her then-boyfriend left juliette once he found out.  juliette’s parents moved the teen into their apartment in the city with her father and she transferred to a different school for the rest of the year.  

juliette gave birth to a baby girl on april 29th, 2002.  her daughter, francesca winifred hammond was 7lbs and 4 ounces and 19 inches tall. 

juliette had always known she was going to keep her daughter, but still holding her baby in her arms after she was born was a whole other experience and it really was like wow i’m a mother.  she cried.  

juliette wasn’t at her high school graduation, but if she had been she may have been the valedictorian.  she still graduated in the top of her class.  

originally, juliette had been planning on going to columbia for their english program.  

but she decided instead to take a gap year and focus on being a mom.  

during this time she worked at a bookstore and had begun writing her own stories.  

she published her first book--a children’s “novel” just before her seventeenth birthday ( more like september of 2003 ).  it’s dedicated to her daughter.  

juliette soon realized that she wanted to move away from home.  it was too much of a reminder of what she could have been doing and what her parents wanted for her, and what she had thought she wanted.  she needed to find herself and figure out her life on her own.  

so juliette quite literally picked up a map and got in the car she’d gotten for her sweet sixteen and started driving down the highway with her daughter.  

of course, she’d told her parents beforehand.  she’d had a whole sit down conversation about moving out and on her own.  her parents were hesitant, since she was only seventeen at the time.  but they eventually agreed so long as juliette stayed in touch with them.  which she did.  

she happened upon frostford when she got a flat tire just outside of city limits.  

and frostford was everything that her hometown was not, so she wound up moving here at the age of seventeen, just before christmas time.  

her parents obviously paid for the house she lives in still.  it’s not like the mansion or even the city apartment she was used to when she was running around growing up but it has a porch and a yard and enough room for her and frannie, which was all jules wanted.  

for the first couple of years i’d imagine it was hard for her to fit in.  since she was seventeen and graduated high school prior, so most people her age were still in school.  and i’m sure more of the town busybody gossips would have been talking about how she’s seventeen with a baby.  so that wasn’t easy.  

but even with that, juliette did her best to get to know people and figure out a place for herself among the town.  

TWENTIES to NOW -- 

juliette had worked as a waitress for a couple of years while she was going to school.  despite coming from money ( and having her parents send her money every month to help out ) juliette was always determined to both pay her parents back for the house they bought her and make her own money.  

by the time frannie was in kindergarten jules was working at the diner during the day and going to college classes on her days off and taking some night classes.  

juliette graduated from college with a degree in library sciences and english literature.  

throughout frannie’s childhood, juliette worked on other books for kids.  she wanted the types of books she had read when she was a kid but something that her own daughter would love.  and frannie did love every book that juliette wrote.  

for a good six or seven years ( from the time juliette was nineteen until she was twenty-five ) juliette was known mostly as one of the more prolific children’s authors under 30.  she’d written well over 40 books since her first published children’s novel.  many of the novels are following one single story/character, but each novel is part of a whole universe where characters from one side story do pop up in others as well.  

juliette then graduated to young adult fiction, where she’s pretty much stayed since.  she writes mainly mysteries and historical projects.  she likes to balance her novels with a bit of different time periods.  and yes, she does in fact know that joseph turner the main character of her first original novel appears as a side mentioned character in her latest work.

juliette has worked at the frostford public library since she graduated from college.  she’s always loved to be around books.  

like i said back then, she often loved to daydream of being someone in the limelight when she was growing up.  you can still catch her singing a few tunes or hear the piano playing a melody from her house if she leaves the windows open, but otherwise she’s really given up on that part of her life. 

spends a lot of time with her daughter.  i imagine she’s had no contact with frannie’s father since everything that happened between them in high school.  

sometimes she wonders what it would have been like to go for singing, but make no mistake that she is in fact blissfully happy with how her life turned out.  she’s got her daughter, a blossoming career, and a happy home.  maybe the only thing she sometimes really wishes for that’s realistic is somebody to share it with? 

PERSONALITY AND MORE -- 

juliette is still as kind as ever.  she’s very charismatic and effervescent.  she doesn’t like to let anyone see her down ( even if she definitely has her moments of not being so well ). 

you wouldn’t know if she’s down unless you know her well enough.  but the signs are usually that she’s playing the piano a lot, she’s wearing a lot of loose fitting long sleeved things ( she likes to tug on the sleeves as a habit ), and her house smells like she’s been baking.  

jules often calls frostford her home and refers to greenwich/manhattan as the place where she was raised.  

juliette has a mix of a new york accent and a southern drawl from all the time she’s lived down south.  it’s definitely not so pronounced.  but when she’s angry ( which is rare, she’s not the type to raise her voice usually ) you can hear the northern accent come out.  

she will never be found without a pen ( colored ink, usually purple ), a notebook, and a reading book.  as she’s ready for any kind of situation or inspiration to strike her.  

her favorite candies include milk duds and twizzlers, and she’s a sucker for a home made pie ( she can make a good apple pie and a nice lemon meringue herself ).  

she absolutely loves when it rains, definitely the kind of person you’d find running out in the rain and dancing in it.  

quite clumsy.  she’s not a ballerina ( no matter how many lessons she had as a kid ) as her balance is always off.  

she’s talkative as hell when she needs to be and can tend to ramble on if you don’t 

is 100% a mom friend, is always there for her friends and anybody who she considers a friend.  

loves scooby doo and nancy drew.  kind of likes those simple mysteries that you could read over and over again.  one of her favorite books of all time is that was then, this is now by s.e. hinton. also loves a northern light by jennifer donnely and the luxe series by anna godbersen.  

POSSIBLE CONNECTIONS -- 

first friends in town

neighbors 

“enemies” who became friends 

frenemies 

people who know her writing 

co-workers 

for some reason i cannot think of any more connections but these were p basic anyway?? so uh come and plot with me and we can figure stuff out lol. 

@frostfordstart

[rambling-at-midnight]

Protection: Part 12

Ayyyyy guESS WHAT’S BACK!!!

I’M ON THE HOME STRETCH AND I’M SO SORRY FOR THE HUMONGOUS PAUSE IN UPDATES BUT THIS IS EITHER THE SECOND-TO-LAST OR THIRD-TO-LAST CHAPTER. THANK YOU FOR YOUR UNDERSTANDING!!!

You manage to avoid Tom and Harrison until the party by hiding in your room. Devin brings you food, somehow knowing about all of the drama despite not being involved with any of it. After picking the lock the first night you had decided to nearly starve yourself in order to save face, she’d become your ally, and you get the feeling when you look at her that she’s not to be underestimated. Too bad you’d not had any time to get closer to her before. After this party you’re not going to have anything to do with the Hollands ever again.

“This party is just so you can kill Dylan O’Brien, correct?” Devin asks while curling your hair. You know she already knows and is just fishing for conversation starters.

“Yep,” you reply. It starts at six and you know you have to wait a little bit before killing someone at these sorts of things so you’re probably going to kill O’Brien around eight or nine but you’re only going to show up around a half hour before that. Apart from the fact that you don’t want to go to this stupid party, you know you’re going to get harassed by power-hungry men and gossipy women. “And then I can leave and hide where no Holland will ever find me.”

Devin sighs. “Y/N, I know Tom can be a little… abrupt sometimes, but I really do believe that he—”

“Don’t say he loves me,” you interrupt. “Or even likes me. I’ve known him for, like, three weeks.”

“I wasn’t going to say either of those,” she says steadily, keeping her eyes on your hair.

You snort “Bull,” but your face still flushes.

“Studies say it only takes between a fifth of a second and 4 minutes to fall in love.”

“And we didn’t even… like each other,” you say weakly, lowering your gaze to your hands so you won’t meet her eyes in the mirror. It’s very easy to say when you’re not looking at the mob boss, but not easy to convince yourself. “Everyone knows about Holland’s flings. I never expected anything different. And how do you know that specific fact? It’s hardly common knowledge.” I don’t love Tom Holland, I don’t, I don’t.

“It’s my job to know a little bit about everything, dear,” she replies, patting your shoulder. “If you didn’t expect anything different, then why are you hiding from him? Eyes closed. Hold your breath.”

She sprays extra-strength hair spray on your hair until pretty much every strand will be iron-stiff. You suck in a breath of air once she’s stopped spraying and survey your appearance in the mirror. “I hadn’t thought about how awkward it would be,” you invent.

It’s her turn to call bull as she spins you around in your chair and examines your face. “You’ve killed the close relations of half the people at the galas you used to attend, and you still manage to smile into their eyes without blinking. I think awkwardness is the least of your worries.”

You smile grimly into the mirror. “That wasn’t awkward. That was me gloating.”

Devin hums, as if you aren’t talking about brutally murdering people and then not feeling an ounce of regret. “Hey, if you don’t mind me asking, why’d you run from Tom when he yelled at you? You’d think the most feared assassin in America would have thicker skin.”

You grimace into the mirror. “You heard about that, then?”

“I’ve heard about everything.” Devin replies, almost teasing. She pulls out a makeup kit and you grimace again. That was perhaps your least favorite part about your life; you moderately enjoyed wearing the dresses and curling your hair and feeling pretty for a night, but the makeup always made you feel dirty and like your pores were being clogged. Still, you don’t flinch as she starts to apply mascara onto your eyelashes.

“Just… he reminded me a bit of my dad, you know?” You’re not sure exactly why you feel like telling Devin this, especially because you’ve spent most of your time here resenting her, but there’s something intimate in getting ready for fancy parties that makes girls want to trust each other.

Devin clucks her tongue. “He was strict, then?”

You laugh hollowly. “Just in case you were under any impression he was a great dad, let me just say that he trained me just like he trained every other assassin he employed. You know how we got good at withstanding torture? Experiencing it. And he had this set of rules, you know.”

Devin’s hand freezes. Your eyes scan her face, trying to find out what, exactly, has made her so surprised, other than the opening up of your childhood traumas, but her face is painted even more than usual and she’s as good as you at hiding your emotions. “I see.” She starts to paint your face again, and only you would be able to notice the little crease between her eyebrows.

“Waterboarding me was his favorite,” you say, like you’re talking about your father’s favorite movie. “And…” You suck in a breath, horrified at yourself. Everything your father ever taught you, every rule, every trick, has been thrown out the window in these past three weeks. And now you’re offering potential weakness to the assistant to the most powerful man in Britain?

You’ve gone so soft. What would your father say if he could see you now?

“I’m just so glad he’s dead,” you whisper, and it’s like a weight has been lifted off your chest. Despite all the pain he put you through, all the heartbreak and manipulation and torture, you’d still loved him in a way. You’d still been sad when he’d died, but you’d been so relieved, and you’d felt so guilty that you felt relieved. “And I’ll be so glad when I kill O’Brien, too,” you add, hoping to end with the impression that you’re still not to be trifled with, but you’re pretty sure the damage is done. She’s going to go tell Tom that you’re weak.

“You know, trauma is nothing to be ashamed of,” Devin says quietly. “Tom saved me from my husband, actually, and I’ll always be grateful to him for that. I just know… it’s not easy. And what you went through… I can’t imagine.”

“I’m fine,” you snap, shoving your walls back up as quickly as you can. “I’m fine. It wasn’t that bad. It’s what every assassin goes through—”

“But coming from your own father,” the redhead presses. “To have no escape—”

“I said I’m fine.” You glare at Devin and grab the hand she’s using to apply the makeup. “I’ll finish the rest of it myself.” You can’t forget that while she may have an important position, she’s no match to you. No one here is as good as you. You’re unparalleled. Your father loved to beat that into you; that you cannot in any way show weakness because you’re too strong to be weak.

Devin leaves. You don’t know how relieved she is to be free to go. If you did, her relief wouldn’t be because of the reason you think.

Harrison pounds on Tom’s door again, but his boss’s music is turned up too loud for him to hear anything. “Why the fuck are you such a drama queen sometimes,” Haz mutters, stopping in his pounding for a moment to soothe his aching fist. He really doesn’t have time for his boss to be throwing yet another temper tantrum because he still won’t grow a pair and tell you how he feels. I mean, Haz ponders, I guess considering it’s Y/N Y/L/N it’s sort of intimidating but she did fuck him and why else would she have gotten mad when he’d basically told her to get out if she wasn’t hoping for something more? He’d pointed that all out to Tom, and Tom had told him to pound sand.

God, what Haz wouldn’t do for a boss that doesn’t have his head stuck up his ass half the time.

“Come on, mate,” Harrison calls through the door. “We need to get ready—”

Tom responds by raising the volume of his music to the point where it rivals the volume at which you play yours most of the time.

“Harrison?”

Haz has to physically restrain himself from rolling his eyes at the sound of Devin’s voice. He turns around, pasting a completely fake smile onto his face, and tells her that he’s a bit caught up at the moment.

“We need to talk,” she says frantically. “We need to kill Y/F/N before he makes his public appearance.”

“What?” Harrison cocks his head and fights the urge to laugh. He knew it would happen someday; Devin’s finally gone ‘round the bend. Who wouldn’t, considering the amount of violence and double-crossing she watches on a daily basis without having been trained and raised to the violence, but he’d thought she had at least another year left in her.

“I need to talk to both of you,” Devin insists, pushing Harrison out of the way and knocking on the door smartly. “THOMAS STANLEY HOLLAND, YOU GET OUT OF YOUR ROOM THIS SECOND!”

“I don’t think he can hear you,” Harrison mutters, sulking behind her with his hands in his pockets. “I’ve been trying.”

Devin rolls her eyes at him and tosses her hair over her shoulders, fumbling with something at the nape of her neck. She extracts a pin out of the tumbling red locks and picks Tom’s door within seconds. She strides into the room without fear, and for the first time Harrison admires her for more than her looks and professional attitude.

The assistant marches right over to where Tom is nursing a glass of whiskey at his desk. She grabs the glass out of his hand before he can react. “We have a problem.”

Protection Taglist:

@littlemarvelqueen @musical-whovian @lemirabitur @childofcrystals @bubbles1642 @annymcervantes @sleepybesson

Forever Taglist:

@lemirabitur @annymcervantes @queenmissfit @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret @iksey

[indomitablemegnolia]

It was edging onto the noon hour, eleven-thirty-six am to be exact, but you couldn’t tell by the light of the sun; Gods, it was as if Fenrir the wolf had jumped out of a Norse legend into the sky to swallow the sun; I had already been at the airport for five and a half hours; my red eye was cancelled, and I had been bounced from gate to gate to gate, to wait to wait to wait, only to be told nothing was happening; they always stressed the word yet, but what they really meant was, ever. It was really not a huge surprise, I had watched the weather report while listening to my neighbor get lucky; the animal noises and obvious gymnastics required to make such a ruckus would have left me exhausted for weeks, but here they go again, well, at least someone is getting some. I was surprised there wasn’t cracks and holes in which to watch in that shoddy, tiny, airport motel room, just barely a step above an S.R.O., but it was a bed and damn I was tired this was a trip doomed from the word go, giving me little glimpses of the movie ‘Fight Club’ after the first hour of meetings, suddenly I was Jack’s complete lack of surprise.  My agenda, my plan… my hope, now dead, dead as dreams, it began full of such potential; that was zapped away within seconds, so why should it end any easier, really? What did I expect traveling to a place called Port Chester, New York? God, it sounds like the setting for a soap opera, but truly, in retrospect more like an episode of supernatural, including a vengeful spirit.

Speaking of vengeful spirits, the dark icy clouds encased the airport in a swaddle of gloom, like the foreboding storm from poltergeist; anyone who can read the sky could see that the weather was only going to get worse. Those dark clouds only served as an ominous warning, a foreboding that should have come as a warning, or possibly in the form of a question. getting blacker, rain already turning to solid ice as it fell from the heavens; Shangri-La this was not, it had congealed into a complete and total ice storm.  Usually, storms brought a certain sort of odd comfort to me, though today, not so much; most likely due to the fact I was so far from my home; as if cued perfectly on time the song ‘Can’t find my way home’ played in my ears. I choked on my snarky laugh as I trudged to my next expected gate, lamenting the fact that I felt nine hundred and ninety years old today. No matter what direction I looked I saw that long dark sky had the look of hard wet sleeting ice in the nearness of the future. I wish I was home with a tall cuppa joe and a nice big book on my lap, with some good soft music cuddling me under a heavy blanket. Turning the corner that I wish could have been to my kitchen with its pretty little red potholders. I stop short, before me sat the largest conglomeration of unhappy people I ever remember encountering, all of them choosing seats at or near the ticket agents booth; the far wall and its bank of windows showing a clear view of a very Poe dark and dreary as well as the show inside, was beautifully vacant. I walk amongst the revelers, noticing the complete discontent on every face I passed.

Oh, the universe had such a sense of humour, didn’t it? I shake my head, suddenly I felt I needed a drink; nah, maybe I just needed a lot of life insurance; god, I knew I needed a vacation; or maybe I needed a home in the country; or more than likely a full once over by a qualified psychiatrist; though mostly I needed to figure out where this Phillip Marlow-esque monologue was coming from, but on second thought that drink sounded lovely. I snickered to myself, the morning I was leaving Mom and I sat at the kitchen table, enjoying our morning coffee, or so I had thought; as with all morning rituals there was a vast amount of time allotted for silent contemplation staring into that vast unknown.

“What’s wrong?” Mom had asked, worry evident on her face.

Taken aback, I snickered, possibly the coldest most patronizing snicker I had ever snickered; as if the woes of the world and the things that weighed on my mind could be delineated down to utterable words, instead of answering I shrugged, “nothing really, why?” I tried to sound light and unbothered.

Mom huffed, “I don’t know, you look like something is bothering you,” she took a huffing breath, “actually you look like you are seriously contemplating smoking or becoming an alcoholic.”

Damn, she just dropped that in my lap, I laughed a real laugh, “It’s not that it hasn’t crossed my mind,” I took a drag, “To tell you, yes, of late I have partaken of much more libation than I ever have before, but you know exactly how limp my lungs are, too limp for smoking and I don’t quite have the intestinal fortitude to become a full-fledged alcoholic, I think you actually need a stomach to tie a good one on. So, no worries mom, it is just the world today and the way it’s working that just bugs the hell out of me.” Good god, am I that easy to read? Good times, right?  “I am just tired of the feeling of a nine thousand gorilla standing on my neck.”

She reached over patting my hand… Ah, mom she always had the ability to knock me sideways, but then make it all ok.  I pulled my fakieciggy out, (an e-cigarette that had long since been empty of all nicotine, but still had the light flavour of vanilla; hell, it lights up; the motion alone was as satisfying in form and function. Taking the time to sigh, reset my Qi, was enough, really, just an idiosyncratic mnemonic device.) put it to my lips and took a long drag; “Freaking bat country.” I mumbled under my breath, batting at the invisible bats, wishing to hell I had my flask, but there was no way I was going to try to take that through TSA, hell they were already way too frisky for my tastes. Really, I am a two-date minimum to get to second base kind of girl; who the hell was I kidding, my threshold was much wider for the whole idea of bases, I really was tempted to yell, RAPE! So, I had to make due with what I had. What I had was a coat, a hat, and a gun; oh, god I wish; what I really had was a headache, my huge black messenger bag, my oversized dark purple purse that served as a computer bag, my WWI aviator cap, a Pea coat and my knee-length waterproof leather boots. I saw a seat near the window, with a perfect reflection of the passersby, so, I pulled my sweater sleeves up over my elbow and went out to stake my claim, sadly sober as a judge.

Taking a people watching post, sitting in the fourth seat in, perching on the edge of the chair, I push my messenger bag and purse under my chair, lay my coat across my lap, leaning my shoulder into the back of the chair, I watch.  I watched the rapacious soul eating mob move and ebb and flow as they would. Rock Hudson and Doris Day style husbands and wives in deep serious whispered fights, staring daggers at each other; a Calvin and Hobbes, pair of college students mumbling amongst themselves whether or not they had asked anyone to feed their bong water fish, which I highly doubted that the fish was ever alive; Mothers with children looking like the perfect advertisement for birth control, faces bleak, eyes sallow, looking at the world with a ‘someone kill me now’ appeal, my heart ached for them. Then like a ray of light a tiny toddling head went past, not screaming, not crying, he toddled on, chasing a large red and white ball. His tresses shorn close on the sides, the middle left long, his tiny Native American feet trotting to a mix of a babies walk and a fancy dance in his borrowed handmade mucklucks, like a Sherman Alexie character brought to life; he chased that ball, hunkering in the fashion that only a beautiful child can, accidentally nudging the ball, chasing and hunkering again.  His simple, beautiful, innocence was unmistakable, I wish I could capture that image to hold on to forever, but like anything and everything miraculous, possibly once in a life time, it could only be seen, witnessed, never captured for reproduction, no picture can be taken, no beckoning for others to see.  I watched him play, until mom noticed how far he had traveled, she motioned for him to come back, with a shriek of a laugh he finally captured the ball, it balanced awkward in his tiny hands as he scampered back to mom, I reveled in his beauty for as long as I could.

A shadow passed, a series of people walked into my vision, I watched a very rich woman, head to toe designer gear; from diamonds to Manolo’s, the cheapest thing on her could have been the down payment on a home, basically Marie Antionette circa 2017. I don’t know why, but I liked her, she was blonde; in fact, she was a blonde, to make a bishop kick a hole in a stained-glass window, you know the type, beautiful, petite with a touch of sad, the kind you know any of fifty men would commit a felony for, start a war for, but she was not the kind that could eat people alive, her money was new and she wore it like a crown. Sadly, there she was trying almost desperately to gain the attention of her Louis XIV, his must be very new money, there is a comfort that comes from old money that he utterly lacks, with old money there is nothing really to prove; this man wore his wealth, including his wife, as if it were a status symbol requirement, his BMW keyring dangling from his Burberry coat pocket, his hands soft, totally without callouses, nails perfectly manicured, his hair coiffed with gallons of product; by all counts he was a useless man. Despite Marie’s attempts for his attention, it was focused like a laser on his newest game, he chased a bedazzlingly big busted, slim-fit skirt, again you know the type all tits and flash. I saw Drusilla, Louis’s game, meet his chase; she was also blonde, not nearly as pretty; she reeked of five thousand an ounce perfume, cheap sex in a motel room, and cigarettes, it all came along with a none too subtle ‘I would suck your dick just to kill time’ look about her, but her attitude left way too much to be desired. She must have felt my eyes watching them, she gave me a look which ought to have stuck at least four inches out of my back.  I watched the movements of these people, friends worse than enemies; lovers as adversaries; families at war and at peace; and lonesome strangers all lost in this Dante’s inferno morass, helpless, stuck, stranded.  In this place, full of people there was only about a handful of humans.  Poor Marie, she doesn’t know that down mean streets, on these streets a person must travel; a human who is not themselves mean, but can be; who must be neither tarnished nor afraid; they must be the hero in this story. She must have been looking for a man whose lips tasted of faerie tales, and mistook the frog for the prince.  Oh, but she is a peach, there may yet be hope for her, they walked on.  Then as ships pass in the distance my eyes moved from them to another.

This other; this long, tall, dark cloud drifted past stealing my vision; he was head and shoulders taller than Louis; he walked to the agent desk, handing the agent his ticket, there was something about him that usurped every atom of air around me. His dark licorice coloured, supple leather jacket hugged him tightly, dark wash jeans detailed the rest, tight enough to highlight the merchandise, but loose enough to leave bits and pieces for the imagination; Goddamn, taking in the entirety of his goliath frame was breathtaking, my god, he was lovely. The desk agent said something and motioned for him to find a seat; he spun deliciously on his heel, with ceremonious attitude reserved for royalty; he walked away, sliding his sunglasses down to rest on his nose.  He moved like water, luscious, cool, delicious water flowing over smooth stones; I literally leaned foreword and watched that walk, it was magnificent. God, he was about as inconspicuous as a tarantula on a slice of angel food cake; no reverse that he was the angel wings on devil’s food; he was like a prowling lone wolf looking… for what? I am not sure, but the way he moved over the crowd, not through it, it was almost enrapturing. I mean, look at me, I was amongst these adders, trying to make my presence small, wanting literally to disappear, but I felt their lies and hate sticking to me like hot molasses, but him, he, seemed to be coated with a repellent, a Teflon, not a thing stuck to him.

He was as honest as you can expect a man to be in this world where it was going fast out of style. Not only did he move above them and through them without a spot of tarnish, he walked with that sultry panache. He was a complete man, very complete, my eyes slid to the lightly bagging rear pockets; they showed enough definition, but not the detail; good god I can’t believe my mind went there; he was a common man, although, there was not a thing common about him, he was as unusual a man as could ever be found. He, to use a rather weathered phrase, an unutterable phrase, was a man of honor. Possibly, by a natural instinct, look at those shoulders he could support the world; maybe by inevitability, by the sheer thought that someone had to be so he was more than happy to pick up the mantle, without thought of it, and certainly without ever saying it; or maybe he wasn’t, I was none too sure about my instincts these days. Oh, but the delicious stride of his foot sure and while in his gaze no man faltered, even Louis straightened his head when this wolf was on prowl. He seemed a man whose story was a manly adventure in search of a hidden truth, oh and goddam by the looks of him he was fit for adventure; oh, to be part of that adventure. Christ, my mind and oddly enough my body reacted to the idea of what kinds of adventure he would be up for.  It would be no adventure if it did not happen to a man fit for adventure, and I have had enough of those not fit for adventure. If there were enough like him, the world would be a very safe place to live in, without becoming too dull to be worth living in… he was the best man in his world and a good enough man for any world; he would be something of a marvel in every world. No, no, he probably wasn’t, look at me running wild with a though; he was probably just a man who dressed a part, stuck in an airport, with a walk… I let him slowly move from my sight, he was already driving me to distraction.

I look out on the desolate grey landscape, the ice creeping up the window panes; maybe it was Marie, maybe it was that godly walk, maybe I was in mourning for the loss of his visage or just the self-destructive nature of the human condition, but it was something that not even those chubby little hands clutching at that giant rubble ball could chase away; I don’t know what or why, and frankly I don’t really care, it just was; I suddenly feel ages, years heaping onto my shoulders. To lean heavily of Dickens, it was the best of times, it was the worst of times, mostly it was just times; really it always does seem like we are on the edge of evolutions end; though always like on the TV shows the countdown stops at 1, although this time is feels to be on negative numbers. I remember not too long ago, it seemed we were in an age of wisdom of invention and growth; now it is an age of foolishness, it is the epoch of disbelief, it is the epoch of incredulity; I miss the season of Light, for this is a damn season of Darkness, from which it seems there will never again be a spring, no hope, it is a winter of discontent, of despair. I remember the last day when we still had everything before us, though now in retrospect we really had nothing before us, we thought we were all going directly to heaven or maybe we were already there, we are all actually in a freefall directly the other way. I look at my world and succumb to the dark, dreary letting the weary days soak my soul. The world floods my brain, once upon a time not actually all that long ago.  

Oh, it was the leanest of times, those times where those I love sat before my eyes and macabrely joke about which of us will be the first we all should eat; obviously my brother as his meat would be soft and sweet and succulent; you know, those jokes that bring a forced laugh, for fear that if we didn’t laugh we would have to run in terror from the reality of these thoughts; in those horror times we were packing, cleaning, locking away the remnants of a fantasy, a dream that we held in our hands while it died a cold and horrible death.  An ancient card from the times when we were convinced it couldn’t be worse than that but we knew that if we just hang on one more day… the card fell from our hands and fell open; springing from this card comes the vivacious voice of one Gloria Gaynor;  Our hips lost the battle of staying locked, tears began to fall as our lungs let free a laugh that was not at all forced; that was the moment that pedantic break up song from the bygone disco era became our salvation and a battle cry to send Schrodinger back into the shadows.  From there light began to shine and there was air to breathe, but again Fate slammed that door.  DAMN HER AND HOPE

There no such thing as beauty anymore, all colours fade from vivid to dead gray.  It really is an amazing thing when you think you have reached that horrible craggy earthen bottom, Hope, the vicious bitch that she is, shows you exactly how wrong you can be.  For a second I reach back in memory to long ago, remembering giggles and birthdays and handmade cakes with half the necessary fixings.  I let myself float, a few weeks ago, in that warm pool of possibility, red wines flavour haunting my taste buds. Gods, she showed me a brief glimpse of lovely, of that haven, I actually, almost felt that sun on my face. I still almost feel that smile on my face, doused in tears.  Ice cracked in my chest at the memory of that instant my heart had defrosted.  I knew better, I fought, I tried to resist, I didn’t believe, but then I wanted to, I needed to, then I did… We drove for hours, maybe it was days, time begins to lose its continuity when the radio is playing great music really loud, sunglasses fitting just perfectly and the speedometer reads 85 mph steady and true. There is something about it that made my heartbeat strong and true. We laughed and sang along, and it was the first time since I can’t really remember when that mom smiled, she laughed, without letting that haunted look come back to her eyes.

We would stop for burgers and laugh about something from eons ago. Then we’d hop right back into the car and drive; my foot getting heavier as we went. I don’t know what we were running from, or maybe running to, or maybe just it was the idea of the freedom that neither of us thought about a damn thing… yeah. All I really knew it was no stop until… it felt right. So, we drove and we drove, miles ticking off the rented odometer; states flying by, for once we weren’t simply standing in one place, trying to make traction on a treadmill, for years we were running at full bore and never getting anywhere, literally, figuratively, however the hell you want to say. Philosophers and scientists like speaking of continuity, but those who are stuck in the spin cycle, too close to the damn agitator, pieces of life, of spirit, of heart, of dreams, of happiness, being mangled, breaking off falling to the ground. Then one day I stopped, I just stopped running; my soul too tired to continue, I stopped.  I stopped trying to make everything fine, everyone happy I understood finally that I was on a fool’s errand. I took mom’s hand in mine and she stopped running too, we stooped to pick up the broken scattered pieces, but fate showed us that it was like trying to grab on to Jell-O with your hands and hold tight. So, we let them drop, leaving them to wait for the chalk outline of their tragic death.

The Pacific came into view over the rural cattle covered hills, the radio suddenly silenced. My eyes misted over and I turned on the wipers as the chill October rain drizzled from the heavens. I take that right and head north on HWY 1 knowing where we were going. Childhood memories haunted behind unshed tears, living has taken on a new definition in the dozen years since last, I smelled that organic salty home. I would stop and relive bowls of chowder and giggling splashing icy surf on naked tender feet, but now, it showed in stark relief to what living now meant, those laughing giggles echoing in our hearts. My hand dropped from the gear shift and mom laced her fingers through mine, we took a moment to mourn this breathing cadaver we had become. I pull over and park, it took a hot second before I grabbed my small bag from the back seat, I clamber out, walking around I helped mom from the car.  Walking as quickly as tear filled eyes and our beleaguered bodies would allow us, we made our way to the beach; and we sit listening to the surf, dropping my bag off my shoulder and we walk down to an old drift log. I made sure mom was comfortable, stepping out of my sneakers and socks using only my feet I walked to the rushing surf. I stooped pulling my pant legs up as the waves began licking at my toes. The oceans icy tongue sliding softly over my skin. I wanted to keep walking, walking till It was over my head, but I stood still when the waves kissed up my legs to behind my knees. I breathe letting my eyes roll closed, the wind ran its fingers through my hair as it kissed my face. Mom is suddenly there, holding my hand, both of us knee deep in the surf, we giggle and smile at each other as if we were children with a secret, oh and that secret…

I turn from the wind’s loving kisses, mom’s hand snaking into mine; we stood LIVING, for these seconds we lived; we walk hand in hand back to that driftwood stump, mom sits, I pull out the bottle of red wine from my bag, pulled the cork and took a long drink. Passing the bottle to mom; I noticed that those unshed tears were no longer abiding behind their dam. I don’t know when they had started sliding down my face, but I look a damn state now. Mom passes the bottle back and I take a long drink, looking up at that dark gray cloudy sky. I know it should have looked sad, foreboding even dower, but to me, it looked like a hug from an old friend. The crash roared so loud I couldn’t hear my own breath. It was perfect, the screaming person who has been occupying my mind suddenly shut up and I could breathe.

At its most benevolent this life has, one sweet single unattended moment, set aside for each of us. One single moment in and out of time. We took this moment, this little heaven inside this Dante’s nightmare we have called living, we take our little moment out of time and we take a shelter in it. Stealing away from all the shocks are horrors that this too long, far, far, too long life is heir to. This definition of living and its toll that it has taken on our souls. Our distraction fit, and I watch as we both take a deep breath and bury our toes in the cool sand like an oyster taking shelter. We close our eyes, breathe deep, we became high on this freedom, away we float. Beauty like lost dust moat in a shaft of sunlight, wild thyme unseen, or the winter lightning in the snow, or the waterfall, or music heard so deeply so intense that it is not heard at all, that fabulous unsound, but while that glorious music lasts.

Oh, and while it lasts.

One by one I watched those sorrows, the angst and pain the uncertainty melt from our shoulders, the time to hesitate is through, and sometimes the best fight is not fighting at all. I look to mom and pass the bottle, and we speak in silent words, we always knew that the possibility of an impossible fight would come, though yet I would glove up and take my hits, but it would be a heartless battle; all of my hits soulless. There is a freedom in acceptance; as a song says, freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose; the knowledge that losing a bout isn’t everything, but we both knew we were going to lose this one would take everything from both of us. There was a release; we both felt it, we collapsed into it, death would come and we would fall into his arms. Her eyes lead me, in their depths in a moment of ecstatic joy, with no expectations, not from THIS ONE MOMENT. A beautiful, simple moment of being.

No wants, no needs no worries. God, mom had always made broken look beautiful, strong look invincible; She walked with the gorgeous universe on her shoulders. When she shrugged that heaped heaven gracefully, making that pain and strife look like wings. In this moment of communion between us. That toll was gone, peace found us as we held hands like always. mother and daughter and we wanted nothing more than this peace.  We took it, we loved it. Yes, we both knew this was just our moment and the treatments and pain would return and lost, lonely, broken, we would have to drive back home… eventually. Though, in that long stretched moment, we were infinite… Mom corked the bottle and we walked carefully back to the car, we got in again and I drove for more and more hours finally finding a beautiful hidden paradise amongst the redwood trees.

The bed, it was comfortable, lovely and clean, luxurious and the room had an eighth story window seat that still didn’t look down on those trees. We sat in the early morning feeling the air, smelling of earthy redwoods, kiss our skin and our lips with warm, delicious, coffee. The water from the tap tasted sweet and fresh, like a childhood memory poured from a second or even third-hand crystal pitcher. Late morning, the bathtub was large and deep. This was a paradise, this heaven was perfect, as if god understood that I had just acquiesced to his summons and decided to send me an extended heaven, or possibly on that curving mountain road I had missed a turn and we had both passed those pearly gates… In this paradise, there was a grand restaurant that required reservations. We ordered three rounds of drinks called the golden eagle, that tasted like buttered sunshine with a citrus hint and a float of Chambord. I ordered the lobster and she the steak, sharing the asparagus and potatoes…everything was perfect. We laughed and walked the long way around and danced and smiled at the smell of the beautiful trees. We walked among the ancients and there is something to be said for being less than drunk, more than lucid and still infinite among the kings of the Earth.

A tiny pearl of a treasure I tuck into that little box lined with black velvet that I keep all my most precious things of beautiful in.  Stupidly I believed, stupidly I let the want the will pull my hand out…  Ages told me that it was a mistake, that hope would be the thing that kills me, but I let my hand reach out, I almost touched it, but then there was nothing; now I lay bleeding out.  Nothing, but air that my fingers slid through and I fell, I fell a million miles.  One shining second in horror years, I trusted that idea of hope, the bitch, and now one eon wiser I woke this morning my eyes rioting at the idea of waking to this world, my brain screaming its recalcitrance at the idea of still dragging air into my lungs and begrudging the world for letting the sun to continue shining.  I will never again trust to hope, I can never lift my eyes from the motion of my feet in this broken trudge, all marching to that horrible monotone beat because the living will never come to any good.

A buzzing distracts my mind from this drudgery and I look at my stupid phone. A text from my momma: “Happy Birthday Angel, text me when you are on your way or if you will be on your way.  I hope you are wearing your smile and your lipstick, you never know who will fall in love with you today.”  An ironic chuckle escaped my throat and a wry smile pulled the corners of my lips.  In 37 years, no one had ever fallen in love with my damn lipstick or smile for that matter, I doubted today was any different today from any other day. Although, yes, I had put on my lipstick before departing for the airport today…  dumb ass.  Suddenly, the landscape was replaced by the rushing crowds passing behind me, superimposed, reflected on the glass in vivid colour.  Oh, and the din of the people began to enter and drive away my own private hell; I let the relief wash over me.  There was an odd surety to the idea that life goes on, it goes on whether or not one would wants it to; I started watching the people, along with the storm raging outside the windows, but the activity made my mind move from that cold place.  I felt like an idiot to let myself bask in that much self-pity.

A gust of air hit me as someone sits a few seats down, I rolled my eyes, but I didn’t take the time to look, I would be leaving this section soon anyways, as soon as they tell us all that there will be no motion. It is the real human smiles in trouble, gathers strength from distress, grows brave by reflection. My brain reeled, shook from my own morass by a simple stupid misquote. Jesus, apparently, this birthday is getting to me; I know so many try to convince that it is not the aging that bothers them, but for me it is truth; oh, the passing of time, when I start counting is like a pall on my soul, but to just despise it would be terribly ungrateful, to hate adding to the tally of years lived when one is already well and past expectations.  I don’t care what number of years I have lived, I really don’t mind the few hairs on my head that have transitioned from this dullard nondescript brown to a tinsel silver, the crinkles next to my eyes are every one of my laughs counted out for me. I do mind, however, is that so much time keeps passing, days mark themselves in memory and unwanted thoughts surface, I mind marking how much I haven’t done. I do mind is that not once has this journey been anything other than an upward climb, fingers gripping, bleeding, over the roughest terrain.  I decided, enough pain…  I was never one to just revel in misery, I am not the kind of woman who breaks into pieces under the blows of abandonment and absence, I am not the one who goes mad, who dies; though I know I will, possibly quite soon. Unlike Marie, I know I am the hero of this story, it is my responsibility to make it good. Surveying myself I saw that the few fragments that had splintered off were pieces that always are supposed to be sloughed due to living and learning. For the rest, I was… well, I was, just me. I was whole, whole I would remain. Thusly being stuck in an airport for a birthday is just one of those things that just happen, and yes, mostly to me.

Their reflections, with the gales of wind blowing ice and snow pelting the large bank of windows. Ah, its time to face the truth, nothing will be flying in this mess; hell, the smart people stayed home and didn’t even bother. I sigh, I never could have been accused of being one of the smart people, I watch the strangers pass behind me, all of them seemingly stressed and kinetic, like little white rats in a closed maze; frantic to get to where they were going, none willing to admit that no one was going anywhere anytime soon.  I scanned all he miserable faces, yes, we are all in a way trapped, foreword motion was impossible, but always there is someone who seems to take it so much worse than everyone else, making that small claustrophobic feeling a teensy bit worse.  Most just accept that, yes, in this world not much seems to go the way we all plan, there is always that one total jerk who thinks that god and all that’s holy and unholy alike should bow to his will.  With that thought my mind decided to switch to the politics network; I literally shuddered, became nauseous and pulled it back front and center.

This jerk yelled and bellowed as I watched apparently, the Scandinavian Bruce Willis had decided that handing a helpless gate agent her own head on a platter was the best use of his time.  He was demanding everything under the sun.  From the loud whining and bluster, I gathered that he was supposed to be traveling to Maui, but he wasn’t going to be there in time and would lose the large deposit he placed on his room, most likely a common hazard for travel like that.  As if that was anything the gate agent could do anything about, it was really his own stupid gullibility. Yes, I would much rather be in Maui too, in fact I think the ticket agent wishes she was in Maui with a Chi-Chi in hand, but its not where we are, nor where I was traveling to. Finally, the mans blustering hit a fevered pitch, his face turned purple, I thought he was about to stroke out, but his wife finally stepped in.  I had already lost interest in the whole show about half a tirade ago, he was an overgrown child with the stupid notion that the world owed him something.

I shake my head softly and roll my eyes, a soft, rolling, deep chuckle moves through my ears, and movement catches my eye.  I let my eyes be pulled expecting to see disapproval in the reflected face.  I all saw was a man; my breath shuddered, not just a man, but that man, the wolf with the godly walk, that gust of air was him sitting, that man. Well, honestly simply man is an insufficient term, but one I would use for the long-legged monolith a few chairs to my right.  He seemed to be elsewhere, with more than a single dose of “I don’t give a shit” attitude, all I could see was crossed arms and Ray Bans, so I let my eyes peruse. He was long, tall, his legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankles, those legs alone reached at least 5 foot from the edge of the chair. He was thick; legs like tree trunks, but his shoulders alone took the space of two seats. I pitied the person who was seated next to him, hopefully, he wasn’t the middle seat, talk about crowding.  He wore a thin, white tee shirt, dark washed jeans.  I let the smile pull the edge of my lips, apparently, he didn’t look at the weather before heading out today, poor fool.  He sat trying to tuck his thick licorice coloured leather around himself tighter.

His opaque dark Ray-bans hid most of his face, ear buds tucked into his ears. His thick brows curved gracefully over the rims, his lips beautifully arched with a light pout to his bottom lip, a set of the most beautifully kissable lips to possibly exist. A day’s growth of scruff along his gorgeously chiseled jaw, god he was a beautiful man.  He couldn’t have been reacting to my derision, maybe he was chuckling at something on his earbuds. So, I swallowed my ruffled feathers and I just enjoyed the view of the reflection. His dark brown hair, blonde and ginger highlights deliciously sparkled, in what was once a deliciously close cut style, now grown out two months too long; the length silky enough to run soft fingers through, letting the long ends curl around fingertips.

I settle back, catching little glimpses, filing his form away for something fun in one of my writing exercises, I watched the ice creep along the glass of the window and the passing of the people while listening to my own ear buds, hitting repeat on some riotous punk. Social Distortion peps me up, I feel the beautiful sweeping warmth of eyes on me, I look up all I can see is the dyspeptic travelers and the airline ticket agents looking as if people had taken bats to them, circulating handing out food and hotel vouchers to make up for the surprise ice storm.  Curiosity draws my eyes back to his mostly obscured face, I wonder what colour his eyes are; statistically, they were most likely brown, but something told me they were some beautiful exotic colour. Seriously, look at the man, he is something made of myth and mists, he could never actually be real, like a unicorn or the truth. As with everything, the gods compensate, a man that graceful, that beautiful, with that luscious of a walk, there really must be something maybe just some single thing wrong with him, somewhere. Maybe he has a temper or maybe he is just stupid. A loud cacophony of uproarious yelling, uh oh, the natives are getting restless.  

God, how the hell do they expect airlines to circumvent nature and still get them to their destination safely, you know they would be the first filing suit in the case of an accident, and seriously how the hell an ICE storm can be so surprising, but low and behold, here we all are stuck. I tuck my vouchers in my book and keep watching the people reflected in the window, like an interactive ultra-widescreen TV. A Latin woman reminding me heavily of Anne Bancroft goes huffing by consigning herself with a beautiful grace to the fate we all in the airport now share, a night at the on a crummy airport motel mattress and airport food.  Again, that warm pass of eyes, perusing the faces, I assume it’s just another people watcher or a passerby.  A move in my peripheral vision drew my eye back to him; dammit girl, the cardinal rule of people watching is NO STARING, I chided myself.

@pedeka @writernotwaiting @iamhisgloriouspurpose

@keeper0fthestars @sweetfairy1

@fromthedeskoftheraven @shikin83 @bilbo-baggins-middle-finger

[bigherosixfeels]

For the fanfic requests, Karmi and Hiro playing random pranks on each other. (Examples: Air horn taped to the bottom of an office chair, taping plastic wrap across a doorway, etc.)

nerd children mischief? I’m in >:)

High Jinks

Fandom: Big Hero 6: The Series

Rating: K

Characters: Hiro Hamada, Karmi, Baymax, Wasabi,Fred, Gogo and Honey Lemon

Word Count: 2,585

Summary: Karmi and Hiro get themselves into aprank war

It started off as a typical, Monday morning.Another day of school was about to begin and Hiro’s first class was withProfessor Granville. He developed a habit of being one of her last students toarrive to class, but he was never late (most of the time). Thankfully, she wasunderstanding of his occasional tardiness due to his double life as asuperhero. Of course, that didn’t stop her from lecturing him on the importanceof maintaining a balanced lifestyle.

With thirty seconds to spare before her classstarted, Hiro hurried inside the room, making his way over to the seat healmost always took. He put his backpack down and sat, but the second he did, aloud ppppprrrhhhhh sounded beneath him.

The sound that heavily resembled a fart initiallymade the robotics major jump in his seat and shocked those sitting near him.Yet, it quickly followed with laughs and snickers immediately after.

Hiro felt his face flushing. That wasn’t him! Hestood up and looked at his chair. Sure enough, someone had placed a whoopiecushion there.

Normally, he would have laughed it off too, buthe was so surprised by the classic gag, that he was curious to know who did it.

“Oh, Hiro! We need to open a window!”

The second he heard who said that, he knew exactlywho was responsible for this. Karmi. Looking over at the fellow teen genius,she was holding back her laughter while also pointing her phone in hisdirection. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that she not only planned thispractical joke, but also filmed it so she could post it online later.

Hiro rolled his eyes at her before removing thewhoopie cushion from his chair and sitting back down. His slight embarrassmentturned to frustration and annoyance. Why did Karmi do this? Of course it was anact of public humiliation, but there was no reason for it. Hiro hadn’t doneanything to motivate Karmi into doing so. He came to the conclusion that shesimply wanted to make him look bad for a few seconds.

As Professor Granville’s class began, Hirodecided that he wasn’t going to let this go. He may have been a victim in aharmless joke, but what Karmi had yet to discover was that Hiro loved pranks.

He’s successfully pulled pranks for years. Themain recipients of his antics were his family. He recalled the numerous prankwars him and Tadashi had gotten into when they were younger. And of course theyalso teamed up on the tricks they’d pull at random on Aunt Cass. Karmi had noclue of any of this which made Hiro grin deviously. Two can play it thatgame, he thought to himself.

—

The next day, Karmi happily hummed in the hallsas she headed to her lab. She was looking at her phone, reading the comments onthe video she posted of Hiro the previous day. As she giggled at each response,she pulled her student ID out from her bag. After scanning it, the door to herlab slid open. She went back to looking at her phone as she stepped forward,prepared to check up on her viruses before her first class.

However, instead of walking inside like usual,she was stopped due to a transparent material. Due to being unaware of theplastic, Karmi processed what was going on a few seconds too late. Thesubstance immediately clung to her, much to her displeasure.

“Ah, hey!” She shrieked, trying to escape from the plastic wrap.

Her small outburst caused other students passingby to look over. The second they saw the biotech major struggling to remove thewrap, they started laughing. Grunting, Karmi peeled the plastic off herclothing, stepping backwards from the threshold of her lab.

Despite the laughter, Karmi didn’t have an ounceof embarrassment. Her blood felt as if it was boiling. Not only had someonebroke into her lab, but they taped saran wrap on the doorway for her to walkright into. Who would do this?!

“Y’know, you should really look where you’regoing.”

Karmi tensed up. She knew who was behind her.The voice belonged to none other than Hiro Hamada. His presence with what justhappened to her basically confirmed that he was behind this act. She’d questionhis actions, but she already knew this was his way of getting back at her forthe whoopie cushion gag.

Of course, that didn’t make her less angry. Sheturned to face her rival, her eyebrows knitted together and a deep frownforming. “You did this!” She yelled at him.

Hiro was holding back a grin. “Me?” He respondedin an innocent, yet sarcastic tone. “What gave you that idea?”

“Don’t pretend it wasn’t you!” Karmi pointed herfinger at him. “And how did you break into my lab?!”

“A genius never reveals his secrets.”

Walking away from her backwards, Hiro’s lipscurled into a smirk. With a playful shrug, the young prodigy turned around,whistling as he went down the hall. Karmi glared at him until he was no longerin sight. She walked back over to her lab, opening the door again so she couldrip the saran wrap off.

Once she was done separating the plastic fromher doorway, she angrily tossed it in the trash. Marching into her lab, shecontemplated telling Professor Granville about this. Surely she’d believe her.Karmi would never lie to her favorite teacher. Plus, Granville knew howreckless Hiro could be. As satisfying as it would be to see Hiro get introuble, she also knew that Hiro would definitely tell their professor what shehad done to him first.

That only left Karmi with one option. She had toget Hiro back.

—

By Wednesday afternoon, Hiro was still proud ofthe prank he pulled on Karmi the day before. Judging by the lack of anothertrick, he felt confident that she wouldn’t mess with him again.

With their classes being done for the day andcurrently no superhero business to attend to, Hiro and his friends went to thenerd lab to work on their projects. All of them had been discussing what theyhad come up with so far, giving each other advice and ideas of what they coulddo to improve them.

All of them went to their respective spaces. Asfor Hiro, he went over to get the spare office chair he often used when hewasn’t in his own lab. He spun it around to face him before grabbing onto thearms, positioning himself to sit.

BWEEEEEEEEEP

The sudden, alarming sound caused Hiro to joltright out of his seat. Everyone else in the room either screamed or flinched asit happened. All at once, everyone turned their attention to where the soundwas coming from.

Placing a hand over his rapidly beating heart, Hiro tried to steady his breathsto a normal level. He had yet to question what just happened and why.

Detecting that his primary patient wasdistressed, Baymax waddled over to Hiro to provide him with the best solutionsto help him. “Hiro, your heart rate has accelerated to one-hundred and fifteenbeats per minute.” He blinked. “I am also picking up moderate levels ofstress.”

Hiro smiled knowing Baymax was trying to help. “It’s okay, buddy.” He let out arelieved sigh, feeling more relaxed. “That noise just surprised me. That’sall.”

Now curious as to what caused that sound, thenerd gang made their way over to their youngest friend.

“What was that sound anyway?” Wasabi asked.

Now more composed, Hiro turned his attention tothe office chair. He looked underneath it, revealing that someone had ducttaped an air horn under the seat.

“Just an air horn, guys.”

They were all relieved to know it was nothingserious. Knowing that it was a prank, Fred started laughing hysterically. “Ah,yes. The classic air horn gag. Works every time.”

Gogo lightly elbowed Fred. “Okay, but who didthis?”

This time around, Hiro knew exactly who wasbehind it. Yet, before he could say the name of his rival, Karmi walked over tothe group of friends. Due to another trick going successfully, Karmi wore asmug grin on her face. However, her expression changed to a softer look whenshe got closer to them.

“I knew I left my air horn around heresomewhere,” she told them in a calm tone. Karmi knelt down next to the chair,removing the horn from it. “What a silly place to put it.”

Hiro crossed his arms at her. “Yeah, because youtotally misplaced it by duct taping it underneath this chair,” he respondedsarcastically.

“Hey, it’s not my fault you sat there.”

Succeeding with her prank, Karmi parted waysfrom the group, flipping her ponytail as she turned her back to them.

As she exited the nerd lab, Hiro growled. Hecouldn’t believe she would prank him again. He definitely underestimated her.He understood that she had done it this time to get back at him, but he hopedthat would stop her from any further practical jokes. Was Karmi more of aprankster than Hiro anticipated?

Whatever the case, Hiro had more tricks up hissleeve.

—

Maybe she was being a little paranoid, but Karmiwas extra cautious the next day. She paid attention to her surroundings, makingsure to avoid a possible gag courtesy of Hiro. To her delight, he hadn’t brokeninto her lab again. Her first class went without any planned incidents either.

Of course, she wasn’t going to let her guarddown easily. Knowing how Hiro could be, he could do something at any second. Itwas best to be prepared for anything. Plus, she figured that if Hiro failed toget her back, he would stop trying.

Unfortunately for Karmi, the last place sheexpected to be pranked was her locker which had been covered in multi-coloredsticky notes. She couldn’t help, but gasp at the sight. It would take at leasta half hour to peel them all off!

The biotech student didn’t have time for this.She had a class to get to in ten minutes and needed to get her textbooks.Ripping off the notes over the handle, she wadded them up in her hand. Shequickly entered in her padlock combination.

When she opened her locker, she went to reachfor her stuff, only to be interrupted by hundreds of folded sticky notesfalling to her feet. She looked down at the floor, her mouth fallen agape atwhat had happened. Looking back inside her locker, everything inside wascovered in the notes. She couldn’t tell one textbook from the other. Not aninch of her locker on both the inside or out was bare.

Karmi didn’t know what made her more frustrated.Hiro breaking into her locker or that he covered everything inside, making itso she wouldn’t be able to tell which book is which. Her hands tightened intofists as she stomped her foot on the ground.

“Hiro Hamada!”

Hearing his name being angrily yelled after therevelation of his prank was Hiro’s cue to step forward. He had watched thescene unfold from around the corner, trying his hardest not to laugh. He madehis way over to Karmi, the smile on his face growing by the second.

“You called me?” He asked. Hiro looked down atthe sticky notes that fell on Karmi’s feet. “Oh wow, what a mess. Whathappened?”

“Don’t act like this wasn’t your doing! I knowit was you! You better clean all of this up!”

“O-oh, well…I’d love to help, but uh…I’vegot a class I need to get to right now. Later, Karmi!”

Hiro rushed off, finally allowing himself tolaugh at one of his best pranks to date.

“Hiro, come back here! This isn’t over!”

When the robotics student was no longer in hersight, Karmi kicked at the loose sticky notes. This was ridiculous! At leastwith her practical jokes, they were just one small item that didn’t require anycleanup. Why did Hiro always have to leave a mess behind? And why did shealways have to clean after him?

She could only hope that Hiro heard her warningas he ran off. This was far from being over with.

—

Karmi stayed true to her word, resulting in theprank war between the two youngest students to continue on. Her prank took placein the cafeteria, where Hiro received the dribble glass gag. The only peoplewho had noticed this happening were Karmi and his friends, but he still lookedstrange walking around with a damp shirt for the rest of the school day.

Admittedly, it wasn’t Hiro’s most elaboratejoke, but he got a kick out of Karmi screaming when he got her back by leavinga giant plastic beetle outside the door of her lab.

Neither of them had expected this prank war togo on for so long. Of course, they weren’t backing down from it either. Thepranks seemed endless, especially since they had been going on into the nextschool week.

Despite the fun in their antics, Karmi realizedthat she had unintentionally started it. She never expected Hiro to get herback and definitely didn’t mean for it to turn into a full blown prank war.

One afternoon, Hiro was in his lab working onsome homework when he heard a knock on his door. Expecting it to be either hisfriends or Granville, Hiro went right over to the door. Opening the door, hewas taken aback seeing Karmi standing in front of him.

“Oh! Uh…hey, Karmi.”

Karmi waved weakly at him. “Hey, Hiro.”

Hiro was confused by her being here. She’s neverstopped by his lab before nor spoke to him so calm and casual. It made himwonder what was going on.

Yet, before he could ask anything, Karmi startedtalking. “Listen…about our pranks lately…I didn’t think we’d go this far.Y’know with me pranking you and then you doing something back. I think thepranks have run their course.”

Hiro nodded. “Yeah. I guess you have a point,but you were the one that got me first. I never would have got you back if youhadn’t done that whoopie cushion joke on me.”

“I know. I realize that I did a prank first, butI didn’t think things would get so carried away. So, I guess I’m just here tocall a truce? No more pranking each other?”

Karmi held a hand out for Hiro to shake. Hirowasn’t sure what to think. He never expected Karmi to call off the pranks, buta part of him was relieved. As much as he loved pulling pranks, he was startingto run out of ideas. And it was also starting to get old anyway.

“Okay. No more pranks.”

Agreeing to the truce, Hiro went to shakeKarmi’s hand. However, as he did so, an electric shock surged through his hand.He stepped back, yelping at the pain while holding his now aching hand.

“Ow! What just happened?!”

Giggling, Karmi showed him the palm of her hand, revealing that she was wearinga hand buzzer.

“Oh this? This is what I like to call the lastprank.”

Triumphant, Karmi walked away, leaving aliterally and figuratively shocked Hiro to stand alone in defeat.

I really loved this request a lot!! I feel like I might have gotten carried away with the pranks, but I loved the idea of them getting into a full on out prank war with each other. The fact that in the beginning, Karmi pulling noise pranks on Hiro and Hiro breaking into either her lab/locker and leaving a mess behind was unintentional, but I think that worked well.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this! Thank you very much for this request @baymaxfangirl! I know it’s been awhile since you got that ridiculous hate message, but I hope you’ve been doing better since then and I love that you’re a part of this fandom!! :D

[dontshootmespence]

Supernatural AU: Episode 4 - Devoid

Part 5

In the split second the car hit the water, dream-walker Dean felt the air knocked out his lungs. He’d been hit by wendigos, werewolves, vampires, you name it, but nothing could be worse than this; seeing the two people he loved most in this world so afraid – it tore him apart inside. Because this wasn’t just some supernatural bullshit that they could make go away with the right lore or weapon, this was completely in the universe’s hands and the universe had never been kind to them. “I thought we weren’t supposed to feel anything because we’re in a dream.” 

“Where did you get that?” Sam asked, heartbeat racing as water started to seep into the vehicle. “You watch too many cartoons. We have to think fast. How do we get out of here?”

Reaching down, Dean grabbed a crowbar and handed it to Sam so he could smash the window out. The icy water knocked the wind out of both of them – the pain like a thousand needles at once. “What are you doing?” Dean cried. “Go!”

“I can’t yet,” he said shivering. “If we go now, the force of the water pouring in will pull us back into the car. The water has to level out first.”

“So you mean we have to freeze our asses off?”

Basically yes. The car filled up inch by inch, making their clothes cling to their skin, impeding their ability to breathe. Shallow breaths only exacerbating the fear. Sam and Dean watched Bobbie’s dream play out before them, panic setting in for all of them with each gush of water.

The car was almost halfway full. Before their eyes, Bobbie slipped out with the same crowbar Sam had used before in her own hand. She maneuvered toward the back window where the little brother in her dream sat reaching out toward her. With every ounce of strength she had, she managed to break the window and passed the crowbar to Dean who broke his own.

While it all played out, Dean and Sam glanced around for the Baku and saw nothing. If it was going to show up, it needed to show up soon. From what she’d told them, the dream was nearly over. What if it hadn’t worked?

As a vice grip began to form around their lungs, both Sam and Dean sped to the top of the water to catch their breath before heading back down. “We have to get back down there,” Dean sputtered. “We need to help her.”

“We can’t help her in the dream. It’s her dream. We have to find this thing.”

“Dammit!” Dean’s teeth began to chatter against the cold and frustration.

They both dipped back down under the water and out of the corner of Sam’s eye, he saw the chimera-looking creature swimming toward them. He torpedoed toward it as fast as he could with Dean right behind him.

When they’d fallen asleep, both of them made sure to have various weapons on them, hoping that whatever was on their person would be at their disposal once they arrived. Thankfully, they’d been right.

With knives in hand, they closed in on it, leaving the image of Bobbie hauling Sam’s body out of the water behind them. As they powered through the nerve-numbing pain of the water, the stinging sensation made their movements heavy, like they were swimming with concrete blocks. Sam readied his knife and went at the monster’s throat, but being underwater didn’t allow for the force necessary to do any real damage. It swatted Sam away like a fly and bounded for the shore, passing Dean in just a few quick strokes of its powerful legs.

When Dean found his bearings again, he spotted the Baku speeding toward the bank of the river. Beyond it, Bobbie swam upward to break through the water with Dean’s lifeless body at her side.

The brothers followed the Baku out of the water and onto the grass, shivering as the cold air hit their skin. “I thought she said we died in the water?” Sam said, teeth chattering. The Baku had already bolted away, probably to return in a matter of moments. One had to wonder whether or not a Baku enjoyed watching the nightmares play out before they took them away. Not putting Bobbie out of her misery seemed particularly sadistic.

Dean stated the obvious, wondering why he didn’t call it earlier himself. “She lied. It’s what I’d do if I wanted people to drop it.”

“Sam!? Dean!?” Bobbie screamed, her heart palpitating wildly as she smacked at their faces, trying anything and everything to get them to wake up. “Sammy wake up,” she cried. They could see the steam from heated tears coming from her face as she bent down to give Sam mouth to mouth.

Over and over again, she turned between the two of them and tried to bring the air back into their lungs, but nothing was working. She’d gotten them out of the water, the air around them crystallizing the dripping water and anchoring her brothers to the ground, each lost degree pulling them further and further away from her. She thought she’d saved them and still lost them. That’s why she hadn’t told them about this part. Even in her dreams, hope was torturous and elusive.

During the few minutes they’d been underwater, someone called 911, red and blue sirens catching the boys’ gossamer forms and highlighting the Baku once again as it was hiding amongst the trees.

“It’s there.” Dean grabbed Sam’s shoulder and motioned toward the forest. As they ran toward it, they were barreled over by it again, their heads knocking into tree trunks before they could find their footing. With his head throbbing, Sam followed the sound of Bobbie’s screams to find the monster.

“Your brothers are gone, Miss,” he heard the EMT tell his sister. “It’s over.”

“No!” She cried, her voice hoarse from the cold, rasping screams sending shockwaves of Sam’s spine. “No! They can’t be. They’re all I have!”

She tried to break free from the arms of another EMT, but he held her tight, telling her over and over again that she couldn’t do anything to help them. “Please, Miss. Let them do their job.”

“They can’t be dead!” She screeched, collapsing into the ground before crying out. The sheer intensity of her cries rolled through everyone in the surrounding area, including the dream-walking brothers, so much so that it almost froze them in place.

Finally, it seemed as if the Baku was here to stay, inching closer and closer toward the horrific scene before them. Rushing forward, Dean readied his knife, jamming it into the monster’s side. As it turned around, it growled at him, almost overshadowing the voice that Bobbie had spoken of. “You’ve failed me.”

Bobbie looked toward the sky where the voice seemed to come from and cried. ‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” Her body shook with the pain of each breath and doubled over, vomiting all over the ground in front of her. “I’m sorry.”

“What are you doing?” Sam cried. “Kill it.”

“But what if it can help her?” Dean asked, torn between killing it now or waiting it out. “She deserves to be free of this.”

“We can’t risk that thing disappearing once it does. We have to kill it now!” Despite the pain this vision brought her, she’d want them to kill the monster while they had the chance.

Sam rushed forward and stabbed the dream-eater in the throat. Following suit, Dean ripped his own knife from the Baku’s side and struck the other side of its muscular neck just before it collapsed to the ground with a hefty thud.

“You’ve failed me, Bobbie.”

“You’ve failed me.”

“No!” Bobbie sat up in bed, tears flowing down her cheeks as Sam and Dean snapped awake at her sides and tried their best to comfort her.

Turning toward Sam, she pressed her shaking palm to his cheek, feeling the softness of his baby face and letting it anchor her to reality. She was awake. They were alive. She wasn’t there. That wasn’t real.

Dean grasped her hand and squeezed it. “It’s okay. We’re okay.”

She stared forward toward the blank TV, her voice flat. “Did you kill it?”

“Yes,” Sam whispered. “It’s gone. We need to go check on Thomas.”

Not now. She couldn’t right now. Eyes bloodshot and wide open, the nightmare still played out even though she was awake. She knew where she was and that it wasn’t real, but it still haunted her all the same. “It’s the middle of the night,” she said, pointing toward the clock, which read 12:30 AM without glancing at either of them. “We won’t know if it worked until morning when he wakes up.”

Dean collapsed back into the bed. “So we’ll check in tomorrow morning before the kids leaves for school.”

“Sounds good to me,” Sam replied.

Bobbie slipped her boots back on and strode across the room to grab her jacket much to her brothers’ dismay. “I need to get out. I need some air.”

“Do you want-?”

“No,” she said, cutting Dean off. He meant well, but she couldn’t. “No, it’s okay. I just…I really need to be alone right now.”

Before either of them could say anything, she closed the door behind her and made her way down the block where she’d seen a bar. Her brothers had gotten an up close and personal look at the demons that plagued her. They’d seen themselves die because of her. They might have killed this thing, but they didn’t even know that for sure. If it did work, it was a big fat load of dumb luck.

“Is she going to be okay?” Dean asked.

Sam didn’t want to think about what would happen if she wasn’t. “She has to be. We have to talk to her about what happened.”

“I know,” Dean said with his head in his hands. He looked toward the door forlorn, racking his brain for anything that could help her, but there was nothing – nothing but time. Time could help or it could atrophy her heart and eat away at her until there was nothing left. “What do we do now?”

Sam pulled off his shirt and slipped onto the couch, wanting to leave a bed open in case Bobbie did decide to come back tonight. “Sleep. Bobbie will probably need us to do the talking in the morning.” He knew what she’d be doing; she handled pain like Dean did.

-

Though it wasn’t that cold out, Bobbie clutched her leather jacket to her chest, attempting to keep in the warmth she’d managed to hold on to. As she stepped into the bar, she made eye contact with the bartender, holding up three fingers. “Bourbon. Your cheapest.”

A few other people were at the bar – a couple of frat boy looking guys that Bobbie could tell were going to try and make a move, the bartender, a lonely-looking blonde and a couple that seemed to be enjoying some time away from young and exhausting children.

“Bad night?” The bartender asked, setting the light auburn liquid in front of her. Bobbie downed it in two large gulps and asked for another before replying.

“The worst.”

Alcohol slipped through her system, warming her, numbing her in just the way she needed. After the second glass, she switched to beer, knowing she’d need to be somewhat coherent in the morning to see the Nostrand family. She only allowed herself that split second to think about the job. She wanted numbness. She wanted to forget. That’s why she was here.

Nearly 30 minutes passed before she asked for another beer, making eye contact with the lonely blonde she’d seen earlier. “You need to forget too?”

“Yea,” Bobbie replied somberly. “Majorly.”

She didn’t want to talk about it and the other woman, who introduced herself as Lila, could tell, choosing to ask her about random tv shows and movies instead. One conversation led to another and when Lila asked if Bobbie wanted to come home with her, she found herself saying yes despite her better judgment. Anything to numb the pain for another night.

-

The following morning, Dean and Sam woke up to see Bobbie just strolling in with coffees in hand. “You just get back?” Sam asked, taking the welcome drink from his sister.

She nodded in response and guzzled down a few sips of the burning liquid to hopefully sober herself up a bit.

“Where were you?” Dean asked.

“You’re not my mother, Dean.”

“But I’m your brother and I’m worried. I know how you get.”

“Exactly,” she snapped. “I get how you get. Where do you think I went? I went to the bar down the street, got drunk, got picked up and got laid. That enough for you?”

Dean shuddered slightly at her tone and let it go. “Yea…yea. Just…” He was about to tell her he was here, if she needed a shoulder to lean on, but she shot him a death glare through tired eyes so he stopped.

“You have to talk about this,” Sam said. It needed to be said and he knew she was less likely to yell at him than Dean.

“Not now.” Her curt tone said the conversation was over. “Let’s go to the Nostrand house and check in with Jenna.”

The three of them slipped in the confines of the Impala and found themselves at Jenna’s doorstep within about 10 minutes. She was already out on the porch watching Thomas kick a ball with his dad before the bus came to pick him up for school. Bobbie allowed a hint of a smile onto her face; the boy seemed happy.

“How’s he doing?” Dean asked.

Tears sprang to her eyes. “It was like a complete 180,” she said, waving to her son. “He got up by himself and started talking about career day next week. Then he asked Gavin to play before school.” She hesitated a moment, a modicum of doubt holding her back. “It’s gone?”

“Yes,” Sam replied, holding out a card with their numbers written on it. “We killed it, but we needed to see Thomas to know that it actually worked. It looks like it did.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, her gaze lingering on Bobbie. “I’ll never be able to repay you.

It was the job. Moments like these were all that kept them going. “If you need us, don’t be afraid to call, okay?” Bobbie asked, resting her hand on Jenna’s for a second.

“No offense, but I hope I don’t need to.”

“That’s always the goal,” she said, the forced smile fading away quickly.

With their goodbyes exchanged, they got back into the car to start driving to who knows where. Bobbie had no desire to talk to anyone, but their uncle needed to know they were okay. “Hey B,” he said as he answered the phone, his gravely voice taking some of the edge off. “Did you get it? Are you all okay?”

“We got it.”

@remember-me-forever-silent-angel @gaylemonshark  @marveldivergentouatdctvfangirl @lalirang @averagekansan @addsomesalt @stusbunker @sebba-hiddles @fanfictionrecommendations-com @hoppy519 @thatwrestlingfan91 @extremeobsessions101 @spence-imagines @bettercallsabs @whaaatthefuuuuck @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @your-imagination-runs-wild @cryinglots @steggy01 @gigilame @sedulous-mind @a-unique-girls-heaven @just-antiyou @rmmalta @original-criminal-fanfics @ties-n-suits @veroinnumera @eurusholmmes @fanficienjoyedreading @astridstark13​ @ties-n-suits​ @demonlover87​ @kennybud​ @shittyafblogwnopoint​ @pleasantlyfadingpeace​ @bulldozed88 @a-gir1-has-n0-name​

[rosaetae]

the bedtime contract

➢  pairing: taehyung x reader

➢  genre: roommate!au, major fluff and a sprinkle of angst

➢  word count: 13.4k 

➢  a/n: testing out different styles of writing! so this may be a tad different than my usual angst-y writing. 

➢  summary: life could have been so much better if you didn’t end up living with him because then you wouldn’t have to sign a stupid contract to help you sleep better at night.

The dorm smelled like old wood and a fresh start.

Walking into the depths of your new home, even if it was temporary, seemed surreal— too surreal. Ever since you were little in a small town, the one thing that you looked forward to was growing up and being able to live without the rules invoked by your parents along with them breathing down your neck, expecting for the best from you.

Which is why you always envied those who were older than you. Those who had reached college and lived the ecstasy of independence and/or those who didn't even need college to live their life doing something they love.

In fact, you were rather envious of your older sister who defied your parent's expectations of going to college and becoming a doctor of some sort to become a striving musician. She would travel across the world with her best friend and play gigs at small, underrated places where some people would recognize her and the art she made through a guitar and her vocals.

Because of her decision to do that, she only called home once every month as the acrimony of her and your parents still lingered even if she was 1000 miles away; and if she were to even keep in touch every day, she would only be dragged down by dread your parents would give her. Whereas you, you were told to not do everything your sister was doing.

And finally, you were going to college on your own, and finally living the bliss of being independent sounded better than hearing your parents talk about the ruthless things your sister has done as if she was plotting against the world.

However, all your excitement to finally be independent was drained when you saw who was your roommate on move in day. All your expectations to have a roommate to share clothes with and talk to almost every day dissipated into the air. And that was basically the beginning of how you were living under the same roof of an impudent, dogmatic, and vast jerk who does not hold one single ounce of consideration.

But that's not all.

You both made a deal to sleep beside each other for the rest of your nights.

.

The dorm was larger than most dorms with 2 bedrooms and a single bathroom, making you cringe a little when realizing that you were not only sharing a dorm, but a bathroom, with someone whom you can't associate yourself with.

Forget the warm autumn candles and petite plants you bought at a boutique the week before moving in, because you knew that after finding out whom you shared rooms with was someone who despised all of those type of things, it was going to be banned from your shared dorm.

And you can feel it now: the constant nagging of your parents as they spill 'I told you so' over a million times and never letting you live it down for the rest of your life and your own constant nagging (under your breath, of course) when your roommate starts to piss you off.

But, it was your fault, you had to admit it. If you knew you were going to be put in this position, you wouldn't have listened to your sister when she told you to sign up for both a boy or a girl roommate. Now, this is where you stand; sharing a roof with a person that made your blood boil and nerves shake with irritation, and trying to avoid all contact him.

Kim Taehyung.

Long time ago, back in middle school— a story you never told— he was the older bully that bullied you—and only you— when you were only a puny sixth grader that still wore pigtails and had big blue circular glasses. From taunting you in the morning, to stealing your lunch money, he was the reason why middle school was a hell for you. But thank goodness it only lasted 2 years until he went to high school.

You heard that he moved to a high school far away from you and that was when you realized you weren't going to live under the fear of his wrath again, thus making your high school years a little decent. However, his friend whom you knew as Park Jimin made fun of you sometimes, but after freshmen year, you gained a confidence in which your sister had helped.

And one day when he was going to call you names and make fun of your appearance, you made a marvelous riposte regarding to his height, making his friends snicker at your comeback, and due to his ego being torn a bit, he never spoke to you since. Not one joke about your appearance, not one insult about your personality, not anything that rolled from his tongue.

Though, you hoped that Kim Taehyung would have not recognized you at least. It was almost 6 years ago, and you were just starting a new life in college— an independent one without the help or the nagging from your parents. You grew, he grew, you matured, and you hope to the gods up there that he matured just a tiny bit.

And on move-in day, it didn't seem like he recognized you, which was fine by you.

You arrived first with your copious amount boxes and a few luggages as you were just taking your comforter and sheets out of its box and into your room when he came in and set his many stuff down in the household.

You didn't really recognize him until you got a glimpse of his profile, your mind flickering back to when he stole your lunch money that one unfaithful day, telling you that 'little kids aren't allowed to hold money'— or some stupid phrase like that—, and you quickly sped out of that dorm complex and into your car where you locked yourself in there for a minute, your mind not connecting these points together correctly.

Going back after a minute of breathing, you cautiously walked into your dorm room to see that he had his bed fixed and neatly tucked, but he wasn't present, making you sigh deeply in relief as you quickly put your boxes and luggage into your designated room before he would come back.

The second time you two were in the same room was when you were picking up the last box and you saw he was putting stuff on the kitchen counter. You both looked up (rookie mistake) and locked gazes, making your heart stop when you noticed that his features were perfectly sculpted, even from afar. He no longer had a baby face and spiked hair that took longer than your lifespan to keep up with hair-gel, and when he had his rosy lips curl into a small, innocent like smile, you couldn't tell if he knew you or not.

"Hello, we didn't get to introduce ourselves yet," he says nonchalantly as he takes out a bag of shredded cheese he bought from the store, and gives you a more genuine smile, making you relax a bit when you realized he hasn't recognized you completely. "I'm Taehyung."

"Hi, Taehyung," you quietly say and he raises an eyebrow, taking bags of chips and cans of soda out of the plastic bags. "I'm—"

"Hi, __," he cuts you off, making you jump at the sound of your name rolling out of his tongue. "You know, I almost didn't recognize you. It's glad to see you again."

And instead of widening your eyes at that, you smile back, tightening your grip onto the box you were carrying. "It's always a pleasure, Taehyung." And with a whirl of your heel, you were heading back to your bedroom, hearing the small chuckle that you heard from the kitchen.

That night, you couldn't help but curse under your breath before going to sleep.

"Out of all people, it had to be me!" You slightly spat while hastily adjusting your pillow to its proper position to help you sleep. "Me, the girl he bullied. Me, the girl who hates his guts. Me, the one that shouldn't have listened to her sister!"

You exasperatingly sigh as you plop onto your bed, kicking your feet under the comforter as you lie on your left side, eyes staring out the window that looked out upon the city lights just a few miles ahead. The orange and white lights all seemed to blend together to help you relax your fuming heart.

From outside your room, you could hear the front door open and shut, either meaning your roommate went somewhere else or he just came back from who knows where, but whatever he does, it will not affect you anymore. Because when you wake up tomorrow, you are going to request for a room exchange.

And although that might mean you were going to lose the view that you were grateful for and the large amount of space you get in your own private room, you didn't seem to care about it as much as leaving the place in which would make you go mentally insane knowing that someone like him is within your range 24/7.

You closed your eyes as you felt yourself calm down a bit knowing that there's a solution for everything.

However, you noticed something... missing. Sitting up, you gave a 360 view of your room and your bed until you realized what was going on. Then, that's when it clicked.

You were missing your pillow.

.

You dragged yourself out of bed at 7 in the morning after a night of hardly any shuteye and began your gait to the main building and requested for a dorm change, only to result to one of the RA's telling you that the requests would take a few weeks minimum to process the changes and avert you to another room due to the many people that requested for a room change.

Those reasons were either because the room was too small, too big, or they wanted to live independently, or with a group of 4 for a cheaper price, etc. and all it did was make you even more drained than you already were realizing that you had to wait longer.

Which also meant you were stuck with him for a bit longer.

Stepping inside your dorm, you noticed that the shower was on, you assuming that Taehyung was there taking a shower as you went to your room and gathered your stuff for your physics class that would start soon. As you got your backpack and binder ready, you exited out of your room to grab a water bottle from the fridge, only to widen your eyes and have a shriek release out of your mouth when you saw your roommate shirtless in front of you.

"What are you doing?" You ask with a roll of your eyes.

"Getting a snack," he replies nonchalantly and it makes you sigh in irritation. "What are you doing?"

"I was going to get a water bottle, but looks like I might have to gauge my eyes out instead," you exaggerate with a bit of bitterness to your tone as you walked to your shared fridge and grabbed a water bottle.

"Oh, don't act like you don't like it," he proclaims. "Any girl would kill to see this in the morning." Closing the fridge at slow pace, you turn your body away from him, shoving the bottle into your bag, while scoffing at his cockiness that made you want to rip your own hair out.

"Yeah? Well, I'd rather jump off a bridge to even look at you," you retort and you could feel his smirk growing on his face as you shoved your feet into your Converse. "In fact, I'll probably go visit the one 10 minutes away."

"That's funny, love," Taehyung laughs a sonorous laugh, resulting to you rolling your eyes again. "Hope to see you later?"

And as you grab your keys from around your neck, you quickly glance at him halfway exiting the door and he flashes you a smile. "Sadly, yes. Just expect a new roommate in the next few weeks or so."

"Gladly," he replies as you shut the door, you cursing to yourself at how ignorant and irritating you clearly remember his as.

From the way he spoke to you as if he held a title that was superior to you to that crook of a smile as he would curl his lips, to the way amusement shined in his eyes when he made an amazing riposte— you simply hated it. The way he talked only brought back the nightmares you would get back in your junior high days because of him, his crooked grin reminded you of the flirtatious smile in which he used to woo with all your friends and other girls, but somehow only chose to bully you, and his comebacks were just plain frustrating.

What have you done to be fated to room with one of the worst people you've ever met in your entire life? Was the universe out to get you? Was high school just a temporary break from hell?

Who knows.

.

The answer is actually: yes. Yes, the universe is out to get you, and yes, high school was indeed a temporary 4 year break from the hell of junior high. However, you still have yet to figure out why the gods and fate have somehow intertwined together and chose you to act upon these consequences.

Because that night— that awful dreadful night— you entered the shared dorm after long hours of your classes and studying at the library, only to hear the ungodly sounds that no one should enter to at 2 AM after reviewing conceptual physics. You were just thankful it wasn't taken place in the foot of the living room when all you saw was a bra hanging from one of the counter stools. Sure, disgust and dread was what you felt; but you were about to scream in frustration that you can't even enjoy a week of your college life without getting shut eye— not that you were going to anyways.

And as you heard a few seconds of what you wish you unheard, you quickly dashed out of your dorm and went over to Soojin's apartment she shares with her sister.

It was late, you were tired from walking across the campus multiple times and you were tired from walking up and down the stairs of the dorm complex that when you stood in front of Soojin's door, you didn't realize that she opened it as you were already snoozing against her wall.

After her claiming you inside and giving you her extra pajamas, she brings you to her room where you lie there, eyes half closed.

"You know you have your own place, right?" Soojin points out and you scoff, turning around in her bed.

"That's currently occupied with my roommate and his... plus one," you grimace as you hear your best friend snicker whilst you close your eyes, just wanting to forget the regretful moment of when you stepped foot in your shared dorm.

"Can't blame him, even I'm surprised you both haven't had sex ye—"

Before she could even finish that sentence, you grabbed the pillow from beneath your head and threw it over your torso, hitting her square in the face, making her gasp out loud at the impact. "Violence is never the answer, Y/N!"

"Should have thought about that before you said that," you retort.

"Alright, alright," Soojin chuckles into air, making you smile a little bit. "No need to be hissy with me, I am letting you stay for the night to escape those 'ungodly noises' from the room across from yours."

With that, you burst out laughing, your laugh blending with hers in the atmosphere as you both laid there, talking in the dark, you suddenly not that tired as before.

"What are you going to do when you see him tomorrow?"

"I'm going to talk to him, obviously," you shrug. To you, it was the adult thing to do and hopefully, he would come to understand and not piss you off like he always does.

"Or," your ears listen onto what Soojin has to say. "You could switch out. But, I personally wouldn't. He's too cute."

Grabbing the same pillow again, you were about to hit her. "Soojin—"

"Okay okay!" She laughs, bringing her hands to her face as her shield. "Don't hit me with the pillow again. I'm just saying, you're too practical and it isn't going to stop him from annoying you. You could switch out or get revenge."

"I can't switch out for a couple of weeks." Then you raise your eyebrows at her. "How can I get revenge?"

"Easy. You could always bring a guy home, too—"

Hit.

"Okay, I deserved that," Soojin dissipates into laughter after a loud oomf. "But, there are other options than to just talk it out. It's not like telling him not to do it anymore is going to make him actually not do it anymore. He's probably gonna do other things to piss you off."

"I'll just avoid him," you simply say before yawning.

Soojin sighs next to you. "Well, you're always welcome here anytime. But if you're going to be showering, you're going to have to pay for the water bill." Stifling a laugh, you just shook your head, wondering how on earth you were going to avoid him.

Amidst your worrying and overthinking, you fell asleep.

.

As a week passed, Taehyung noticed that you rarely show up in the mornings. He didn't know if it's because you left earlier than usual or if you slept in, but he had an 8 am class and he knew that you had an 8 am class as well. However, that morning you were there, you only managed to get 3 hours of sleep the previous night.

It was 12 am when you got back from the library and you were thankful that you didn't have to hear the same noises that prevented you to enter your dorm without pressing your ear to the front door. You didn't sleep until 3 and you somehow managed to wake up at 6 am in a rush to hurry and leave before you could encounter Taehyung again.

Taehyung speaks up as you were walking past him towards the front door, about ready to leave. "Can we talk?"

"No," you reply almost instantly, but as you say that you hear him shuffling towards you while you tried to shove your feet decorated in hedgehog socks into your white shoes under a second to quickly leave.

"And why not?" He asks, standing a few feet away from you.

You stomped your foot onto the ground after putting on the shoes, and grab the dorm key out of your bag. "Because I have nothing to talk to you about."

"__, your class doesn't start in 2 hours," he points out. "Why are you in a rush?"

Shoot, you thought.

"I'm going to get coffee," you semi-lie, hand already unlatching the front door but Taehyung is a step ahead, grabbing your wrist and pulling you back into the dorm.

"Taehyung, let go–" he ignores your protests and has you sit on the counter stool. "Y/N, just spare me 5 minutes of your time and then you can go get coffee."

You huff, eyes shooting daggers at him while he stares at you. "What do you want? My lunch money?"

He doesn't respond, but only stares at you until you could feel yourself grow hot and your cheeks turn streaks of pink and it suddenly got a little too hot for a day of 80% chance of rain. "You haven't been sleeping."

"Gee, I wonder why," you say sarcastically. "Cause I've totally been sleeping through the nights while you're fucking in the room across from mine."

He smirks at your sarcasm. "It was one time." At that, you narrow your eyes, shaking your head in doubt at his cockiness that radiated off of him. "Okay, maybe not one time."

"Whatever. It's not like you actually care if I get a good night sleep or not," you declare and attempt to get up but Taehyung grabs your wrist again, eyes telling you to sit down but you only roll your eyes again while he moves to stand in front of you.

"Woah woah," Taehyung scoffs. "That's a little rough, don't you think?"

"We aren't friends and you clearly don't give a shit after fucking girls—"

"Okay, I admit; not my best move," he puts his hands up in defense while you huff and as you wait for him to continue, you begin to grow warm as he stares at you for a bit, his eyes examining you closely. "You haven't been sleeping at all, have you?"

Your voice softens as you speak, "It's not that big of a deal–"

"__," he sighs. "You haven't been sleeping and I could tell."

You straighten yourself, face maintaining your hard expression. "I'm fine."

"Will you tell me what's keeping you up at night? Do you need sleeping pills?" He asks and you were slightly surprised at his questions before he says, "God, you look like a zombie."

Scoffing, you grab your wrist back. "No and no. Are we done? I have to run to the coffee shop before they run out of the hazelnut lattes."

"__, they never run out of hazelnut lattes," Taehyung says in amusement as he was responded with the loud shut of the door.

.

You had came home late once again, but to your unfortunate events, Taehyung was surprisingly awake at that time, and you found it odd when you saw him there, waiting for you.

"Welcome back, roomie!" He sang loudly, and you had to close your eyes, hoping that he would go away, but sadly, he did not. "I have a proposal for you."

You sigh in disappointment, only to wash it away with a fake smile as he approaches you with a proposing smile. "I'm just going to jump to conclusions and give you a flat out answer and that is no."

Taehyung chuckles at you, making you even more irritated than you should be. "You haven't heard it yet! But trust me on this, it's going to benefit you."

Turning your entire focus on him, you give a sour look. "First, when did I ever trust you? Second, how do I know it's not going to benefit you?"

"Because, __," he pauses with dramatic effect. "I want you to sleep with me."

"Okay that went better in my head so the slap was well-deserved, but hear me out!"

"Taehyung! I am not going to sleep with you. I'm going to switch out of this dorm and you can sleep with the next girl who rooms with you," you scoff while making a face that shows how much you wanted to punch him. "You are so lucky I am not using my foot to kick some sense into you!"

"I want you to sleep beside me," he corrects making you question his proposal even more. "Not with me."

"Oh, yeah, because that makes everything better!" You shake your head, pushing past him towards your room. "Why on earth would I–"

"I talked to Soojin," he admits, cutting you off. "She told me how you can't sleep without a pillow and how you left it back at home."

"Why— out of all people— are you talking to her?"

"I may have been curious as to where you're always disappearing to at night..."

"You stalked me?" You concluded.

"No, not really. Just so happened to see you leaving the library when I was gonna offer you a ride back to our dorm, but I saw that Soojin picked you up. And she's in my chemistry class so the topic was brought up and she told me it's because you need someone to sleep beside you at night..."

"I'm killing her," you utter.

"Look, it's fine! I understand, I completely understand," Taehyung grins, and all you could do is mentally choke him on one hand on the other hand, you're choking your best friend. "I just noticed that you weren't getting any sleep and we're going to be stuck together for awhile—"

"No."

"I'm not expecting an answer, yet. I want you to think about it. I know it's weary to even trust me, but I'm being serious. If I were you, I would get tired from going to my friend's house 20 minutes away and trying to get to class in time. I'm just offering you a deal and you don't have to accept just yet."

You hesitate. "Why do you care all of a sudden?"

"Believe it or not, ignorant assholes like me have a heart," he asserts with a smirk, having you raise an eyebrow. "And I know I haven't given you a reason to trust that I care, but I do. You're sleep-deprived and I just... want to help."

You nod slowly and he nods back, and you both end the day without talking to each other.

.

"Accept it!" Soojin says from above her laptop.

Maybe talking about his so-called 'proposal' to Soojin at a cafe was a little unplanned, considering that when she hears news like this, she is ridiculously loud in responding.

You shush her as everyone looks at her, wondering what on earth could the loud person in a green scarf be hollering about at a quiet cafe at 10 in the morning. "Sorry," she apologizes as her eyes scan around the room. Then she turns to you.

"Why didn't you accept it?"

"Are you forgetting that I hate his guts?" Raising her eyebrows, she sighs in response. "This wouldn't happen if you kept your mouth shut."

"__, I get it, but think about it," she ignores the fact that she exposed you entirely and that truly, she was the reason why you were given this proposal. "You get to sleep in your shared dorm room, you'll sleep better, and you don't have to come home late while walking into something. You don't have to waste money on a taxi to come to my house and you don't have to wake up extra early just so you won't be late to your first class!" Soojin points out and all you do in response is slacken a bit in your seat.

"You're just saying that so I wouldn't have to sleep over anymore."

Soojin opens her mouth to say something but she closes it as you cock an eyebrow. "Nope, I tried to make an excuse, but I can't because that's basically the reason."

As you scoff, she chuckles into her latte. "Look, it's beneficial for me and it's way more beneficial for you." You shake your head, not agreeing before Soojin groans quietly. "__, stop being stubborn and letting your hatred for him get in the way of a good night's sleep. He obviously cares for you and—"

"It's probably just an excuse to get into my pants."

"Good!" She exclaims and you stare at her frivolousness. "You'll get a good night's sleep and the best sex in the world!"

Palming your forehead, you suddenly wished you disappeared along with the dust and dirt being swept away by the waitress who was sweeping the floor beside you— who also most likely heard what Soojin said a little too loudly.

"Look," she begins quietly, folding her hands together on top of her binder. "I think you should think long and hard about this. He notices that you're not there in your own shared dorm anymore and he notices that you're a walking corpse.

"And face it, you're not switching out of that dorm anytime soon, so you might as well suck it up and accept it, because as much as I am your best friend that will welcome you to my home with a bed and ramyeon noodles at your side, I advise you to take this proposal. If you don't feel comfortable with it after awhile, you can always drop it and I'll be happy to let you sleep in my bed again."

"Alright, alright," you huff at her urgency. "I'll think about it."

.

The next couple days of taking your time to think long and hard about your given proposal, you made up your mind after being late to your first class of the day for the fifth time and your professor finally calling you out for it in front of everyone— which was a very embarrassing moment in your life, considering that you were forced to explain your reason and your past reasons for being tardy. Not only that, but Soojin forgot to pick you up at the library one night (probably on purpose) and you were stuck with walking back to your dorm and having to experience another sleepless night.

So then, one night, you heard Taehyung come home and go straight to his room at 9 pm and you told yourself you wouldn't give in.

But after 2 hours of being stubborn, you finally knock on his door a few times and after a few minutes, the door swung, and you were faced with a shirtless Taehyung standing in front of you.

"__?" His voice groggy and confused. You almost felt bad that you woke him up.

"Alright," you say. "I accept your proposal."

"What–"

"I'm agreeing to your proposal."

It takes him a second or two and a few blinks to finally comprehend what you had stated until he finally nods.

"But," you start, a pointing a finger to his chest. "There are rules. You can't bring a sex buddy over. I don't know about you, but I'm agreeing to this arrangement mostly because I don't want to come in at the wrong time." Taehyung nods, but you shake your head at that gruesome moment you wished you could un-burn from your mind. "No lovey dovey kissy touchy stuff." He laughs, but seeing that you were actually very serious, he purses his lips, a small smile still evident. "And we can not tell anyone."

He scoffs, causing you to cock an eyebrow. "Why would I want to brag about sleeping with you?"

You roll your eyes at him. At least you guys were on the same page.

"And no feelings," you immediately throw in. "No growing feelings or attachments, none of it. If that happens, then we're better off sleeping in our own bedrooms."

Taehyung laughs. "Are you done?"

"If you try something, Kim," you warn and he stares at you, almost bored. "I will kick you off the damn bed and you can sleep on the cold floor."

"Noted," he chirps. "Do you want me to write it on paper or something?"

"Yes," you say and he's slightly bewildered at your seriousness, but he shakes his head and releases a tired smile.

"Tomorrow, okay? I think it's a little late to do that," he suggests and you blink at his straightforwardness. "Do you want to start now?"

You don't say anything, but instead follow him inside his own room. You notice that it was neater than you would thought it would be. He had some posters of art hung on his walls including some of Monet and Van Gogh, having you realize that you never thought him out as someone who would appreciate art. His bed was slightly messed up, but that was because you woke him up from his sleep, and it suddenly occurred to you that that bed had its moments where you were admittedly scarred from.

"Wait!" You say and Taehyung groans, his form already made comfy in his own bed disturbed as he sat up. "In my bed. I'm not sleeping in that bed."

"You're so picky," he utters in annoyance beneath his breath and you glare at him.

"Well, excuse me if I am uncomfortable knowing that you had others in your bed," snarking back, you begin to walk out of the room into yours where your bed was still made and folded neatly. "And put on a shirt!"

Taehyung follows you in, throwing a plain black shirt over his head as you went to your designated side of the bed and he climbs in after you.

As both of you have reached your comfort, you sighed and stared out at the window with the view. Suddenly, you felt a sudden pull from your waist and you jump in surprise at the feeling of Taehyung's arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you close into his chest.

"What are you doing?" You ask, your voice alarmed.

"Spooning," he answers tiredly.

"Did I not say—"

"Relax, we're just spooning. Everyone does it."

You bite your lip and nod ever so slightly and you try to follow his words and relax, but how could you when all you could feel his breath down your neck and his torso against your back.

"Why are you so tense?" He breaks the silence and sighs in exasperation, making you slightly relax to prove a point.

"I'm not tense," you snap.

"Is it your first time spooning?" His breath fans your neck, causing you to grow goosebumps along your skin, and you suddenly to regret this decision.

"Y-yeah," you admit. "Sorry, I'm not used to this."

"It's okay. There's a first time for everything," he says quietly, and you slightly smile at the fact at how adorable he sounded tired. "But just relax, just pretend I'm not even here."

And you listened to his words where you closed your eyes and tried to forget that the one person who you feared as a child was sleeping beside you, and for some reason, you felt a whole lot more safe than you were before.

.

That morning, you were awakened by the blazing sound of your alarm clock and the first thing that hit you that strange morning was that you were not alone in your bed. Then the sudden struck of realization hit you like a bowling ball knocking over pins when you realized that you had willingly agreed to his proposal and willingly led him into your bed and willingly let him spoon you.

Your dorm mate stirs beside you and groans. "Can you shut that off?"

Rolling your eyes, you throw your knee against his side, making him lift his head with a startled motion before laying it back down onto your pillow with eyes drooping back shut. "Get up," you say and you watch as he grabs his phone from your nightstand and checks that he woke up 2 hours earlier than usual.

"We still have 2 hours," he groans, shifting his body towards you so that he can pull you in again. Shaking your head, you slap his hands away and sit up, tying your hair into a messy bun and stood up out of bed.

"2 hours until our first class," you state, throwing on your slippers. You had to admit, you felt more energized than the other mornings you encountered. "Get up and go for a run or something. I'm going to get some coffee and no way am I letting you stay in my bed for the remaining hours."

Taehyung raises his head from the bed, a small sleep smirk plastered on his face and you just knew what he was going to say. "I take it you had a good sleep last night?"

You didn't answer because admittedly, you slept better than most nights.

The next night was the same. However, you came home late and you found him sound asleep on your bed, leaving your spot open, as if he was waiting for you. It was an odd image coming home from another tiring day to see your dorm mate was fast asleep in your bed— not only that, but he was fast asleep, practically still waiting for you.

You couldn't help but crack a smile, though, knowing that this boy who has the ability to have you mentally kill him has given you the slightest feeling of warmth inside of you.

But you told yourself not to let this feeling take over, because it was apart of the contract (which you still have yet to put on paper) and you knew that he was your middle school bully, so there shouldn't be a tiny bit of care in this arrangement, but somehow and in some incredulous way, you felt secure being beside him.

"Stop touching me there," you groan again, slapping his hand away from your hip. "What happened to just spooning?"

Taehyung releases a loud grunt in exasperation as you two were trying to get into a very comfortable spot for 20 minutes, but it was always you who did not like the fact that he had his leg over you, his hand at your hip, or his face nuzzling into your neck as it made you ticklish.

"Okay, __," he takes an annoyed inhale. "It's either you're big spoon or I'm big spoon. And please, make a decision fast. I'd like to get my sleep, if you don't mind, of course."

You sigh, rolling your eyes at his sarcasm. Tossing around in your spot to face him, eyes shooting daggers at him, even in the dark, you decided on; "I'll be big spoon."

Taehyung stares at you with tired, but irritated eyes, but finally sighed, and turned around in his spot. At that moment, you wrapped your arms around him, along with throwing your legs over him, and it felt like you were hugging a big pillow. But, concededly, it was very comfortable than the other positions where nothing could have worked.

"Better?" He inquires, and you nod, eyes closing shut.

"Better," you assure.

.

"What's your excuse?"

Taehyung and you were facing the same problem a few nights later: a sleepless night. Staring at the empty ceiling and engulfing into the loud silence seemed apparent to both of you, but you both assumed that one of you would fall first and go to sleep. But an hour of tossing and turning, eyes blinking, and mind awake, Taehyung couldn't help but break the silence first.

"What?" You asked in a hushed tone, confused on his question he was asking.

"What's the reason why you can't sleep? It can't just be your pillow," he simply asks.

You two weren't showing any contact. Your back was facing him as he lied on his back, staring up at the ceiling. Sighing, you might as well tell him why.

"I can't sleep without my pillow," you mumble, waiting for every single snort or snicker to elicit from his mouth, but he just stares at the ceiling, unfazed. So you continue. "I got it from my mom. She had insomnia and ever since I was born, she slept in the same room as me and somehow, I helped her sleep a little better at night. But when high school started, that's when I had trouble sleeping and—"

You peer over at Taehyung who had averted his eyes and had been staring at you the whole time, eyes curious as to what you had to say while you caught yourself from letting something fall out of your mouth easily.

"My mom had business trips," you state. "So that pillow helped me cope with that."

Taehyung nodded, him being a bit suspicious to your hesitation mid-explanation. "So, that's why you can't sleep without a pillow, and why you go over to Soojin's, huh?"

Nodding, you pursed your lips. "Something about feeling safe when I'm the most vulnerable helps me sleep better at night."

He nods again, eyes staring at yours, and even in the dark, you can still make out his chocolate eyes. You notice he parts his lips a little bit and it took you a moment to understand that you were staring at him, and he was staring at you, a spark of who-knows-what kindling between you two.

However, he smirked, knowing that you were feeling the same thing as he was, and that was all the warnings you needed before you turned your back towards him again, cheeks growing red and eyes staring out at the city through your window to keep your heart from beating so loudly.

You hear a low chuckle, and it makes you bite your tongue as you pull the sheets closer to your face.

"Goodnight, __."

.

It became a cycle after a few weeks. You knew that you wouldn't be able to get a switch until after the semester so it was better if you got accustomed to this arrangement. One day on a weekend, when you both were not busy and were surprisingly stuck at the dorm together, he had surprised you with the contract you agreed to on full card-stock paper. On top was written 'THE BEDTIME CONTRACT' in big fat Sharpie letters and there were the few rules on there that you verbally announced, but did not think Taehyung would memorize.

1. The first rule is to not ever speak of this arrangement outside of this dorm room.

2. Second rule is lovey dovey touchy kissy stuff is not permitted; as said by the woman herself. (Except for spooning, cuddling, and other techniques that will help make the other party go to sleep).

3. Final rule, no attachments. If feelings or attachments begin to spark, it is best for the other party to confess first to initiate the separation of both parties sleeping beside each other, and to nullify this very contract.

Signed by,

You signed your name and Taehyung signed his in black ink and it became the official statement of The Bedtime Contract.

Not knowing how, but the contract has made you become more comfortable with Taehyung. You've learned that he did mature— except the times when he would procrastinate on his homework and play Overwatch— and you've learned that he's not so much of a bad guy. He's helping you sleep, for one, and sure he's got his cocky smug moments, but he seems to care about you more often than you think he would.

You don't feel a sudden distaste for him when he calls you at night, wondering where you are.

"Where are you?" He would ask in a bored tone through the phone as you were just entering a coffee shop.

"Getting coffee? You want anything?" You say back as you pulled out your debit card.

"No, just come home," he would state through a heavy yawn and hang up.

You don't feel a huge discomfort when you realize he's next to you in bed, snoring away.

As you walked into your room after a long study session, you noticed Taehyung hugging a pillow and snoring as your side of the bed was empty. His snores were soft, but audible and as you climbed into bed after changing and brushing your teeth, you felt a new feeling grow in your stomach when you stared at him all vulnerable right beside you.

And you cursed yourself for staring at him a second too long because he wakes up to your eyes staring at him. As you freeze at that moment knowing he was going to say something cocky or say something inappropriate, you hold your breath until he just sighs and closes his eyes again.

"You're back," he would say groggily and you let out a subtle breath of relief.

"Yeah, studying sucks," you reply and the only thing that ended the conversation was his soft low chuckle as you both went to sleep.

You don't have this huge urge to punch him anymore when he greets you in the morning with his sleepy smile and groggy voice.

"Good morning, sunshine," he greets with a moan as he stretches his arms up high. "How was your sleep?"

You open one eye to give him a tired glare, but you somehow appreciated the drowsy smile he had plastered on his face and the way his hair was a little messed up that you groan and turn away from him, biting the smile that was unwillingly being forced upon your lips.

"5 more minutes then?" He chuckles as you try to hide your growing hot face with your fleece blanket.

Hell, you suddenly forget your past with him when you're with him in the moment.

It's become this new feeling you've grown used to that you don't get terrified when he's the bigger spoon; you don't get confused when he's talking to you at night; and you somehow feel invulnerable when you sometimes wake up in the night and see that he's there beside you.

Maybe it's you going crazy and way out of your mind, but you had to admit, ever since he made that proposal, you felt more safe.

A few weeks and you both have grown on each other, and you don't know

"Have you ever dated anyone?" Taehyung ponders one night and you flip around to face him, eyebrows scrunched.

He cocks an eyebrow and you chuckle. "Once. In junior year for a month."

"A month?" He asks in bewilderment. "Why a month?"

You shrug. "I guess I can't commit to commitment."

Then, a smug look grows on his face and you knew that he was going to say something smart. "You're committing to our plan—"

"If you keep talking," you start, a scowl painted on your face. "I'm not so sure if I want to continue committing—"

"Okay, okay," he starts and you smile at him.

"Have you dated anyone?"

Then it was his turn to chuckle. "Yes, many. Usually the longest are 3 months."

"Girlfriends?" You press.

"One," he admits, yawning. "2 years, but ended it a couple months back." You nod, not pushing any further, knowing it wasn't your business, and because your eyes were drooping close as the silence drags on after you don't verbally reply.

"__?" Taehyung chides, you slightly being awakened, eyes still closed.

"Hmm," you hum and maybe it's just you, but you think he's going to say something after seconds have passed, or maybe you just didn't hear him loud enough.

"Sweet dreams," he finally says and you're falling asleep.

.

"You have a weird... taste."

"It's not weird," you scoff and he nods his head vigorously.

You both were grabbing something to eat as you both were disturbed by your late night hunger and you only agreed to cheeseburgers with him because he offered to pay.

"I think eating the cheese burger without the vegetables is pretty weird," he says with a very concerned face.

Rolling your eyes as you both sat down at a booth after ordering, you just shook your head. "My tastebuds are just different from yours, buddy."

"But really? A plain cheeseburger? Not even with lettuce? Or the sauce?" Taehyung gawks at you as if you just murdered someone and you simply shrug.

"The sauce is too sauce-y and the vegetables just ruins the whole point of a cheeseburger."

"It adds to the point of a cheeseburger," he retorts and you sigh, shaking your head. "I can't believe my roommate has Plain Jane tastebuds."

"Just wait until I order a drink— it's not so Plain Jane as you thought." And Taehyung snorts at that, eyes glistening and you knew he was going to take you up for that.

And he did.

After you grabbed your burgers, he drove you both to a smoothie place just to see your order— and prove that your tastebuds are NOT plain— but you weren't complaining. Free burgers and free smoothies? You couldn't say no.

As you finish looking at the menu, you order the Green Beam Smoothie that included apples, spinach, kale, orange juice, and a few grapes, but as you were ordering it you asked for the grapes to be replaced by ginger, and to add some strawberries. The cashier even looks at you a little weird when you said that the ginger shouldn't be blended with it, but just inside the smoothie.

"Ginger," Taehyung says in awe and you smile.

"Ginger."

"Do you plan on eating it or something—"

"It adds to the point of a smoothie," you mimic him earlier and Taehyung catches on, glaring at you as he ordered a simple Strawberry Smash Smoothie.

.

One random afternoon after your physics class, you came to your dorm a few minutes earlier than Taehyung would have arrived. But, after 20 minutes or so, you heard Taehyung come in.

You came out of the bedroom to find him, stumbling to kick his shoes off, and his stance, itself, wobbling. "Taehyung?" You call and he looks at you with eyes that looked tired.

"Taehyung, are you okay?" You approach him with worry seeing that as he was beginning to walk, his legs were barely standing on themselves. "Tae, what happened?"

"I'm fine," he whispers. "I just... have a headache, is all."

You knew that it was not just a headache as he could not stand properly. Dragging him into his room, you let Taehyung lie on his bed. "You should sleep."

"No, I'm... I'm fine," he breathes out and you shake your head, adjusting his pillow as you watched him close his eyes and fall fast asleep. He was wearing the clothes he wore to class today and it looked like he was cold as he hugged his arms around his torso. Quietly, you grabbed one of his fleece blankets from his closet and placed it over his shivering body, leaving him to sleep as you walked out of his room.

That night, you crawled into his bed beside him and caught yourself staring at his face. He looked tired and drained when he came into your shared dorm with no balance, and as you watch him sleep, you wonder what caused that.

"You're staring," he abruptly says, and you jump slightly as his voice.

"Sorry."

Taehyung opens his eyes slowly and drowsily, a small curl of his lips growing as he sees you with a worried look. "You look distressed."

"Well, you looked like you were about to faint," you retort causing him to snicker. "What happened earlier today? Were you tired? Did you not sleep well last night because I didn't come home?"

"Partially," he admits with ease. "Should have told me earlier that you were going to be at the library for the whole night."

Mouth opening, you shake your head. "I fell asleep on accident, okay! I didn't realize it until someone poked me in the face and said I was drooling on the text book." Taehyung sonorously laughs, making you purse your lips at the musical sound of his laughter. As it died, you were left with silence again. "What happened?"

"I guess I never told you this," he sighs before you begins. "When I made that proposal, it wasn't meant just for your benefit. I guess, I never told you that I have insomnia and I take sleeping pills a lot to help me sleep. But after awhile, I stopped."

"Did you take some last night?" You inquired and Taehyung responds with a nod.

"It was just a few, but the side effects kicked in and that's why I came home with wobbly legs and drowsy eyes," he laughs, but you don't. You were too busy staring at him with worry and care that it was hard for you to even get the slightest bit of irritation from him.

"So is that why you offered me sleeping pills that one time?"

Taehyung simply shakes his head up and down. "I don't take them anymore, but partially that's thanks to you."

Silence.

But partially that's thanks to you.

You bit your lip as the silence grew louder and louder and louder—!

"I lied."

Taehyung swirled in the bed to face you, eyes grazing your face with so much care as if it was the most normal thing to do, even if it made your cheeks go a little warm. "What did you lie about?"

"When high school started," you began slowly. "My mom didn't go on a lot of business trips."

Taehyung rose an eyebrow.

"She died," you admit slowly, your heart stopping at that second as you paused, staring at Taehyung for his reaction to only get an unreadable expression. "I grew up sleeping beside her every night. And when high school started, she died in a car accident and somehow, those nights haven't been exactly the same. The only thing helping me get at least 5 hours of sleep at night is the pillow that she sleeps with."

He didn't say anything, but you continued.

"I didn't sleep for awhile after she died. I slept with that pillow and sometimes, when my sister would come from her many trips, she would sleep beside me to help, but she's gone all the time. And when I found out I left my pillow at home, I didn't know what to do so I've either dealt with it or went to Soojin's. Then the whole agreement happened, and now I sleep better when I'm sleeping beside you."

"Why are you telling me this now?"

"I just- I just wanted to tell you, cause you know... we're sleeping next to each other— you told me why you couldn't sleep at night.... might as well tell you the real reason why I can't sleep."

Yes, it was unusual telling him everything you never thought you would tell, but as those words left your mouth, you didn't want to take it back. It was your truth and you began to trust him.

He couldn't help but chuckle lightly. "I guess we both need each other."

You look at him with a fixed gaze. "Yeah," you agree and he gives you this look that made your breath hitch.

.

"There's a party tonight at Namjoon’s," Taehyung began slowly and apart of you wanted to say no to his incoming question, but you let him finish anyways. "You coming?"

"I don't go to parties—"

"Ah yes, the goody two-shoes that never once partied even in high school, who would've thought," he taunts and you look up from your laptop, narrowing your eyes at him. "Come on, it's just a party. We'll be back before 1 and we can sleep."

"I'm good," you imply, shaking your head but Taehyung did not accept it.

"You're going," he affirms and he's pulling you by the wrists, making you divert your attention to your essay about whales to fighting the obstacle that was in the way of you and your preferred way of spending your Friday night.

Many yells and protests of you yelling 'let me go!' later, you were somehow at the party, surrounded by a new world of party people you have never encountered, in a striking red sweater he threw at you from your closet. At that moment, you wanted to hot wire Taehyung's car and drive yourself back to the dorms, but you couldn't do that because you're already in the middle of a maze, with Taehyung lost in sight.

You remember him saying: "Stay put, I'm getting us drinks" but you knew he would get tangled up somewhere.

You inhale sharply, trying to get your way across the party animals that were let loose and you felt yourself become smaller each time you encountered someone who looked at you up and down.

Somehow, you managed to go upstairs, hoping to find a small room to lock yourself in and call Soojin for help, but you couldn't help but hear the hushed whispers of girls behind you as you walked by.

"That's Taehyung's roommate."

"Taehyung? As in Yurim's ex? Sharing a room with her?"

A high-pitched chuckle.

"I bet they're having sex."

"Well, no shit," one of them cackles. "Kim Taehyung will get into any girl's pants—"

And you pulled yourself away from the talks that you didn't want to even hear for yourself, a growing anxiety blossoming in your chest as you quickly pull out your phone to call Soojin, who finally answers after the fourth ring.

After pleading for help, you hid yourself in the downstairs bathroom where some people banged on the door, yelling at you to hurry up in there, but little did they know, you were having a tiny mental breakdown in the bath tub. Yes, partying is not your forte.

Half an hour later, Soojin calls you telling you she's up at the front waiting and you quickly run out of the house as if there was no tomorrow. A rush of relief washes over you when you see her waiting in the car for you, eyes worried at your state when you sit in her passenger seat with eyes glassy and face red.

"Do you want to sleep at my place?" She asks hesitantly before starting the car and you automatically shook your head, wanting to go back to your dorm— for some blank reason.

After a few hours getting back with Soojin making sure you were okay, comforting you with water beside your bed and telling you how shit her day was, she had to leave and finish an essay, making you feel bad that she stayed for you. But, as you lie in your bed, changed into pajamas and heart finally calming down, you heard the door open and shut, followed by the shuffles of feet, and you froze, praying that Taehyung didn't bring a girl home.

And just then, you hear your door swing open, the person, who you assumed was Taehyung, stumbles against the wall as they tried to kick their shoes off. As you turn to see it was a matter-of-fact Taehyung walking towards your bed and plopping right next to you, your eyes go wide as he immediately pulls you into a hug.

A very beer and gin-ly hug.

His breath smelled like he had too much to drink and the first thing in your mind that pops up was how did he get home, and you suddenly worried that he drove him by himself.

"Tae," your voice was muffled by his shoulder on your mouth. "How did you get home?"

"I'm sorry," he murmurs as he smacks his lips, as he avoids the question. "I shouldn't have brought you to the party and I shouldn't have left you alone. I'm sorry I'm late."

You were speechless. You didn't want to say anything, but he just kept going anyways.

"I should have been more considerate... and Soojin yelled at me for leaving you alone like that, but reassured me that you were back at the dorm and the first thing in my mind was coming back to be next to you and make sure you're okay. I'm sorry," he says. "Also, I'm glad you came back here and not to Soojin's."

You didn't realize that the one place you wanted to go back to was here, and when he points that out, you do a double take. "Tae, I'm fine," you state. "But, tell me you didn't drive home."

"No," he answers. "I had our neighbor drive me. I just needed to get to you."

And then, your heart stops. Not because he's hugging you tight, but because he's apologizing and he was drunk. He was drunk and he remembered to come back to you. He was drunk and he was apologizing. He was drunk and he was hugging you. He was drunk and the first thing that popped into his mind was coming back here with you.

And all throughout the name, that's when you realized something bad. Something horrible. Something that shouldn't have happened, but goodness, it did.

You broke rule number 3.

.

You told yourself that you weren't breaking rule number 3. Because how could you? Sure, he's sleeping beside you, but there are times when he would walk around half naked in your own dorm and even use most of your shampoo when he ran out just to piss you off. He would even eat the last banana and forget to throw the trash away, having you to walk out in the dark in the middle of the night in nothing but your pajamas and bunny slippers. It was something about him that infuriates you to the point where you threaten to move out, but at the end of the night, you were in his arms, fast asleep.

Sometimes you would stare at him and think that this was the view every girl wanted, and you'd scoff, only to realize that his face became evermore ethereal the longer you stared.

And one night, you told him that he could sleep in his room and lied that you were going to be up all night on a project and he understood and went to sleep in his own bed without questioning further. And the next night, you didn't come home that night, but you sent him a text telling him that Soojin and you had an essay to work on. And the next night, you came home right after he knocked out in his own bed. Sure, you could say you were avoiding him, but you had to.

You didn't realize you were avoiding him until Soojin asserted one night that avoiding him won't last long, especially because of that contract. And it suddenly hit you that you were, indeed, avoiding him.

So the next night, you slept beside him, but immediately fell into a deep slumber before you acknowledged his arms around you. And the morning later, you were approached by one of your RA's who had gleefully greeted you with a surprise that someone was gladly willing to trade rooms with you. Out of pure automatic response, you approved, and your RA gave you some details and said would e-mail you later about it.

Admittedly, you thought about yourself and how beginning of the school year you would respond to that, so you accepted any chance you got.

However, when you were signing one of the forms that the RA sent you, it just occurred to you what you were leaving— and whom you were leaving. But deep down, somewhere in that crazy heart of yours, you knew that you were doing this all for one reason; you were hopelessly falling for your roommate and the only thing you could do is to stay away from him as much as possible.

.

The next nights was a breeze as you were approaching midterms. Productivity gave you the opportunity to fall asleep early and easily, but the night just right before the midterm, you were wide awake and Taehyung sensed it easily.

"Why are you still awake?" He whispers, groggily.

You shrug slightly. "Can't sleep for some reason."

"Spooning?" He suggested and you find him stirring before you could answer and throwing his arms around you. Once you felt his weight, you held your breath. "Just close your eyes and sleep."

You don't say anything because you were too busy trying to make yourself faint to sleep as each of your cells died due to the lack of oxygen you shut out as you pursed your lips together. The noise of your thumping heart sounded like it the only thing you could hear, but as time continued, it got louder and louder. And louder. And loude–

"I think I'm in love with you," Taehyung confesses through his sleepy voice, and you feel yourself paralyzed entirely in your spot. In your head you hoped to the gods up there that he was just saying that because he was dreaming or he meant it as a friendly gesture, but it suddenly felt a little too warm under his embrace.

In your mind, you're thinking of ways to escape his arms, but after waiting, you realize that he doesn't say anything afterwards and you could hear his soft snoring take place.

You still held your breath.

.

"What is this?" Taehyung asks, causing you to look up from your laptop, eyes shooting straight to the form that you were supposed to give to your RA that he held in his hand. Flickering your eyes from the form to his eyes, your lips parted slightly, unable to say anything. "Were you just going to leave just like that?"

You stood up from the table, a lump growing in your throat as you walk towards him.

"I made the request a week after move-in day, after I found out that my roommate was a guy I didn't want to associate myself with," you start, only for Taehyung to furrow his eyebrows at you. "But, there was a long delay, and they found someone who was willing to switch just last week."

"Last week—?"

"I was going to tell you!" You exclaim, eyes averting to the ground. "But, I didn't know how to tell you after you told me you may be falling in love with me."

He scoffs, tossing the paper onto the table next to him. "So you were just going to pack up and leave?"

"I didn't mean for this to happen. I was hoping to leave without knowing you, but then we made that deal and I—"

He cuts you off, shaking his head. "You were going to leave me anyways."

That night, he slept in his room, and you guess it was the best, knowing that you both already broke rule number 3.”

Steadily, you entered your room when Taehyung was already in your bed. You approach him slowly and sat on the edge of the bed. Before you began to spoke, you felt that he wasn't asleep. Not fully.

"Taehyung?" You whisper.

He doesn't respond and you reply with a heavy sigh.

"I'm sorry," you mutter, eyes staring out your window. "We don't have to sleep together tonight, if you don't want to."

"__," he finally says. "Lie down."

Ignoring his demand, you try again, "Taehyung—"

"It's fine, __. Just lie down," he groans and you bite your lip.

"No, Tae, I'm sorry," you continue. "I didn't mean for anything to happen and it was just... me being dumb and inconsiderate."

He doesn't say anything and you question if he was enjoying this or not.

"Look, I'm sorry, if you're too angry for me to sleep beside you, I'll sleep on the couch toni—" Before you could finish your last word, you heard a frustrated groan release his lips and felt a grip at your waist, pulling you under, and next thing you know, you were in a position where Taehyung's face was resting in the crook of your neck and his arms were secured around your body.

You felt your heart stop as you felt his breathe on your neck and surprisingly, you couldn't seem to breathe.

"I'm not mad," he says, voice muffled by your hair and you feel yourself grow warm on your cheeks. "I may be a little upset knowing that you won't be sleeping beside me anymore, but it was nice hearing an apology from you."

You crane your neck to look at him with a baffled look. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"The stubborn, adamant girl finally apologizing for her wrong-doing?" You feel his smirk on your neck. "That's something you don't hear everyday."

Stifling a laugh, you couldn't help but smile a little bit at his joke.

"But I mean it," you start with sincerity. "I'm really sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

Taehyung sighs and you feel his grip on your waist tighten. "It's fine, Y/N. We'll talk about it in the morning."

"But—"

"I'm tired," he states. "Let's just sleep, okay? I want to cherish these last few moments with you before you leave."

You only respond by snorting as you saw his faint playful smile on his lips, but yet, you don't say anything. Instead, you nod slightly and listen to the steady breaths of Taehyung falling into a deep slumber. Minutes go by and then half an hour goes and you're still wide awake, finding the comfort of his breathing consoling along with his arms that you felt the need for him to hug you tighter, but that very thought had your heart racing and you would sigh out loud.

"You're not going by the contract," he states out of no where making you jump a little in his arms. You feel him adjust his position so that he's looking at you in the corner of your eye. You slowly turn your face to him, not peeping a word. "You know, I think I really might be falling in love with you."

Eyes flickering to him, you trip on your next words. "W-wait, w-what—"

"I'm falling in love with you," he repeats, yawning. "And I could kiss you right now."

But before you could say anything, he smacks his lips together and you could see that he's falling back to his deep sleep while you stay up thinking about his words that made your heart palpitate.

The next few days, you both don't really acknowledge the fact that you're moving out as much as you thought and the nights you spend together were the same, for the most part. You just only acknowledge the fact that he was breaking rule 3 as well, and every time you both go to bed together, you always expect him to say something, but he doesn't. Maybe he was just dreaming, his mind creating a fictitious character that made him confess his feelings— or maybe he was thinking of someone else, and maybe he thought you were that someone else.

However, Taehyung just hugs you, pulls you in close, and you both fall asleep.

As the time had come, you were packing your things when Taehyung wasn't home, and as you were packing, you realized how much you were going to miss your room with the spectacular overview of the city lights that comforted you. You were going to miss the comfort of the dorm itself, and most importantly, you were going to miss him— yeah, never thought you would say that, huh?

As shocking as that may have been, having Taehyung as a roommate didn't seem so bad. Looking past the times he purposely annoyed you to the point where you were dying due to lack of sleep because of him, you realized that he was a good cuddler. Not only that, but without him, you wouldn't have thought that sleep was an option after accidentally leaving your pillow at home. Plus, he could make some good breakfast.

But, as you were packing, you realized how much you wished you didn't agree to move out, no matter how much you from the beginning of the year wanted to, you suddenly will miss having good night sleeps and you will definitely miss him, entirely.

Taehyung, who comes in later that night, sings your name as he enters the home. As you were moving boxes out into the living space, he smirks at you as you approach him. "I have a gift for you. Call it a parting away— even if it's only a hallway down— present."

Chuckling lightly, you roll your eyes playfully. "Wow, thanks."

"Close your eyes," he says and you rose an eyebrow. "Just do it. It adds to the surprise of it."

So you closed your eyes, pondering what on earth could he have given you? Sleeping pills? Probably never going to take them knowing that they give you major headaches. A life-sized cut-out of him? Probably something he would do.

But, as you heard the shuffles move toward you and some weird quiet scuffing noises, it stops and you embrace for the surprise.

"Okay," he says slowly. "Open."

As you open one eye, you see Taehyung with a wide grin, but as you looked down to what he was holding, you covered your mouth with your hands in shock. "No, you did not."

"I did," he sings. "Aren't I the best roommate you could ever have?"

It was your pillow.

The pillow that you always had to sleep with in order to fight your sleepless nights. It was the pillow that you were to scared to call your father and ask to bring it due to your promise to him about being independent. The pillow that you didn't think you'd see for a while, until you visited him, but it was right in front of you, in a flesh.

"How'd you get this?" You ask.

"It's called 'calling your father and telling him to mail it'," he says with a cocky tone. "I don't know why you couldn't have just called him."

"I made a promise to him to not call him unless it was an emergency!" You frown as you see the amusement painted on his face. "I could only attend a college far away from home as long as I stay independent!"

"Being sleep-deprived is an emergency," Taehyung states as he shakes his head.

"Well, thank you," you smile. "This means a lot."

"You're welcome. I know you're not going to sleep so well without me—"

Eyes rolling, you smack his arm with your pillow and he dodges it while laughing. "I'm kidding— not really. But, I know that you're going to need the pillow someday. But if you ever need a sleeping buddy, I'm just across the hall."

You smile at him. "Thank you, Tae. Really."

"No worries— oh! Also," he says, digging into his back pocket to reveal something that has been folded 6 times. As he unfolds it, he clears his throats. "As we split ways I believe that it is my duty that I now pronounce that our contract has been officially... nullified."

And you laugh as he tears the written contract down in half.

"I question us sometimes," you admit and you both laugh into fits. As the laughter disseminates into the air and dies down, you only purse your lips together as you stare at each other. "So, what happens now?" And you know the hope in your eyes were painfully evident, but who were you kidding? You could tell they twinkled and glistened as you both stand there, but what on earth were you exactly hoping for? You weren't exactly sure and when the next words rolled off his tongue;

"So, I'll see you around?"

You felt that glistening twinkle of hope in your eyes dwindle and you were left to give a smile.

"Yeah, of course."

.

One night, you got drunk. Count on your new roommate, Joohyun, to get you drunk— in the most safest way possible, of course. However, you realized something in the midst of your nth glass of wine, that you needed to go to someone.

And there you were, Taehyung confused as to why a drunk __ was in front of his doorstep, a huge wave of emotions just washing over you as you were giggling when you felt tears prick your eyes.

"__?" He asks, running a hand through his bed hair.

"I'm sorry," you say, hiccuping. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"__? What are you— come inside."

As he pulls you inside, you feel your mouth release these endless string of words that even confused you. "I'm in love with you and I didn't realize it until I couldn't sleep at night even with my pillow because I realized you're one of the reasons why I can finally sleep well and that's because I feel safe when I'm beside you... and I need to know if you feel the same— if you still feel the same because even with my pillow, I can't feel safe without you and I—"

"Do you want to sleep in my bed for tonight? My roommate went to visit his grandmother for a few days," he finally cuts you off and your endless babbles while pushing you towards his room.  

"No," you meekly push him off, but you see that he was amused at your drunk state. "I need to know—"

"Can you just lie down?" He exasperatingly groans. "It's killing me that you woke me up and you're here and you reek of alcohol and you're apologizing for something you didn't do—"

"Then why— why..."

"Why, what?"

"Why did you say you were in love with me?" You quietly inquire before hiccuping again. "Then when I left, the most you've ever said was a 'hi' to me. Why did you say it? You obviously didn't mean it." And safe to say, you were starting to be fully aware of what you were saying and even though this whole confession and admitting something to the other is scaring the shit out of you, you cleared your throat. "Sorry, I just..."

"Why do you keep apologizing?" Taehyung grumbles and you stare at him. His hair was really messy that it made you giggle inside at the few strands sticking out and bangs all over the place. His pajama choice was a large t-shirt and some checkered pants that you familiarly recognized.

"Because I broke rule number 3," you decreed. "And I broke into our dorm— I mean... your dorm— and I don't know. I guess... I guess I'm sorry for hoping to get an answer from you that I don't even fucking know and I don't know what I'm expecting, but I'm here, sitting on your bed trying to make sense of my own words and I'm... I'm sorry."

He doesn't say anything and you feel yourself grow embarrassed, but as time progresses, you only heard a tired chuckle elicit his mouth. "Well, I broke rule number 3 first." Peeking up at him, you saw that he was wearing that cocky grin you both knew so well and it oddly comforted you. "I don't know what answer you want from me... but what I said to you about being in love with you— it still stays. And safe to say that I still am breaking rule 3, but we'll talk about it tomorrow when you're completely sober."

"Wait," you pause, eyebrow raising. "So... you're still in love with me?"

Taehyung laughs as he kneels down to take your shoes that you would always wear off and set them aside. "When did I—"

"Because if you are," you interrupt as you didn't realize that he was moving around the sheets around you so you could kicked your feet up onto the bed. "I don't mind."

In response, he chuckles and a part of him wishes that he recorded what drunk __ said, but he took the liberty of cherishing the moment of watching your drowsiness take over as you fall into a slumber. And dare he let himself bring his fingers to stroke your hair gently, allowing them to comb through your hair that still smelled like your shampoo.

And in that epoch of contentment, he felt himself smile slightly as he thought that seeing this view in front of him every night and every morning for the rest of his life didn't seem too bad.

that next year

"How did we manage to get the same room together again?" You ask in wonder as you grab your boxes from out of your car.

Taehyung stifles a laugh as he grabs one of your boxes that sat on top of other boxes, while you grabbed another box that you labeled as your desk materials, you smiling at him as he helps you with your stuff. "It's gotta be fate."

You laugh at his reply. "You did something, huh? Let me guess, you probably flirted your way with the RA. Maybe killed someone... no, I bet it's something bizarre... like secretly being the great nephew of the Dean bizarre."

You hear Taehyung laugh at your theories. "Sure, being the secret great nephew of the Dean will work." As you both reach the elevator, you both stand in the silence together until he breaks it first.

"Did you bring your pillow?" He questions and you look at him, a smile growing on your lips as the elevator opens.

Stepping out first, you laugh. "And if I did?" You say as you kick open your front door and set your boxes down into the living area. When you set it down, you were immediately swept off your feet as Taehyung grabs a hold of your waist, pulling you closer, making you squeal at his swift motions.

"Then I guess we don't need to renew our contract," he mutters, making you get goosebumps along your arms. Giggling, you raise your eyebrows at him.

"I guess we don't," you agree.

Taehyung smirks amidst the small proximity between you two. "Then I guess... we can break rule number 3 all we want."

[imdoingathingmom]

Shadow in the Moonlight

Pairing: A Male Avenger x Reader

Word Count: 1,636

Warnings: smut, cursing, dubcon (kinda, I mean I tried but it was hard.), a wee bit of fluff at the end.

Summary: a certain someone sneaks into the reader's room while she's sleeping. This is what happens.

A/n: This is my first time writing smut. The title sucks, I know! But it took me forever to think of one. Please be honest with feedback but don't be a bitch about it. ;-; I know dubcon is a touchy subject but I'm not gonna lie it's one of my kinks and I've never read a dubcon did sooo... Feedback is always appreciated!

After punching in the code, the door to your room slid open with a soft hiss, and he stepped into the room as quietly as he could. But you were a heavy sleeper, you grew up surrounded by loud noises and had learned to adjust. The moon was at its brightest that night. The blood red curtains covering the floor to ceiling windows of your room were pulled open a crack, letting soft rays of moonlight cut through the darkness like a blade. It gave everything in the room a ethereal feeling, especially your panty clad form. Stopping at the foot of your bed, he watched the rise and fall of your back as you hugged the pillow beneath you. You slept on your stomach, in nothing but a band t-shirt and black satin panties, with one leg hiked up and the other straightened out. Your hair covered every part of your face except your mouth as you evenly breathed in and out. He continued to watch you sleep as he slowly pulled the comforter down your legs. You shifted in your sleep, pulling your leg up slightly higher, and his throat went dry as he froze. Your ass was in perfection position now, pussy on display, and just enough room for him to slide up behind you. A groan threatened to leave his throat as he drank in the sight of you.

Maybe he should turn back, he thought. This wasn't right...but then again maybe it was. You had gave him the code after all. You had just got back from shopping with Wanda and Natasha when you had seen him in the kitchen. He was having a conversation with Bruce, laughing about some terrible joke. You had this determined look in your eyes, and although it was thrilling, it had also sent fear shooting through him. You marched right over to him, and slipped the piece of paper into his hand, as Bruce had ducked into the fridge for something to eat. You didn't even explain. You just promptly left the room.  At first he thought it was your phone number. Which was strange, because you saw each other on a daily basis, but also made sense. You guys had been flirting off and on for a month now. It didn't take him long to realize it was the authorization code to your room though, and that's how he ended up here.

In your room. While you slept. At three in the morning.  He wasn't the type to do this sort of thing, and despite women throwing themselves at him, it had been awhile since he had some action. Not to mention he liked the control the situation gave him. He hadn't been in control almost his whole life that having it now was almost liberating. And you did basically invite him. Yeah, you did. He pulled the blanket off of your bed, entirely, leaving it in a pile on the floor. He smiled as he trailed a cold hand from your foot up to your calf, rubbing and kneading as he went higher. As he reached the inside of your thighs his breath stuck inside his throat. He was really about to do this. He massaged and squeezed the soft skin there for a bit. Then turned his attention to your fabric covered core. His fingers hesitantly reached out and once they made contact he slowly began to rub them up and down your slit while his thumb rubbed slow circles against your clit. His other hand grabbed your ass, squeezing and rubbing the flesh there. He bit his bottom lip as your body started to react, your pussy dampening your panties, and bringing his dick to attention. It grew harder and harder by the second. Withdrawing his hands he stood back and pushing the waistband of his black sweatpants down, he pushed until they fell with a soft thud at his feet. His cock sprang up and the moonlight pouring into the room made the precum on the tip of his dick sparkle. Stepping from the pool at his feet he stepped up to your bed again and pulled your panties to the side.

The sight of your slick made him silently groan. He rubbed the tips of his fingers along your slit again before sticking one into your warmth. He inched his finger in and out of you for a bit before adding another. He pumped and scissored his fingers inside you, stretching you out. It wasn't something he had originally planned but his need to be inside you overcame him. After awhile he pulled his fingers out and drew them up to his mouth, your juices coated his tongue. The taste of you, sweet and tangy, exploded across his taste buds. It took every ounce of self control in him not to moan out as his other hand stroked the flesh of his cock.Once his fingers were clean he kneeled on the bed behind you, between your legs. Every so slowly and softly, as not to wake you, he grabbed you by the thighs and pulled your legs atop his. The position resulted in the tip of his cock being nestled against the entrance of your heat. He licked his lips and held onto your hips as he pushed himself inside, inch by delicious inch, until he was buried to the hilt. He held himself still, getting used to the feel of you, and cursed under his breath. You were so warm and wet and tight. You weren't even aware of the fact that he was in you and yet your body responded in the most wonderful way, gripping and squeezing on his cock as if he'd go anywhere. The only place he was going right now  was cloud nine.

He ground his knees into the bed to steady himself and held onto you tighter before he started pumping himself in and out of your body. His cock slid between your folds easily and as he looked down, watching where our bodies met, he couldn't help but moan aloud. He wondered how many times you had dreamt of this. How many times you rubbed your clit to the thought of him fucking you without your consent or knowing. He could see it now. Your back arched, breast out and begging to be touched, while your mouth hung open in a silent moan as your fingers plunged in your sopping cunt. The visual spurred him on and with a grunt he slammed deep into your pussy, rocking you and the bed beneath him. A couple of deep strokes later he felt you stir beneath him and a sudden wave of arousal swept through his body. He moaned out and gripped your hips tighter as he speed up his pace.

A strangled and panicked moan left yours lips as your eyes fluttered open. The bed rocked beneath you as your mind urgently tried to catch up to your body. What the fuck was going on here? You were groggy and it felt as if your body was moving through molasses. You looked over your shoulder and felt your stomach drop. There, fucking into you as if his life depended on it, was none other than Bucky. Suddenly, your hearing caught up to you, and all you could hear was the slap of flesh, as he groaned and moaned into the night. Your sense of feeling came next and all at once you could feel the heat and sting of his body colliding with yours. You certainly hadn't expected this scenario you had gave him your room key and although this was one of your wilder (and darker) dreams come true you couldn't help but feel weird? You turned yourself around and gathered the strength to wiggle away from Bucky's grasp. What sounded like a growl rumbled out of his throat as he grabbed you, with his metal arm, by the back of your neck and pulled you up so that your back was to his chest. Bucky wrapped his flesh arm around your waist and held you there as he continues to pump into you. His damp hair tickled your neck as he pressed wet kisses onto your shoulder. This situation was wrong, very wrong, so you squirmed and wiggled with all your might. You almost loosened his hold on you when the icy fingers of his metal hand tightened around your throat, making it harder you breathe. You stilled your movements as he nibbled on your skin and continued to rock up into you.

His thrusts got faster and with grunt and a change of angle he was suddenly hitting that sweet spot inside you. Your eyes rolled back, your toes curled, and you were seeing stars as another orgasm rolled through you. Two more thrusts and Bucky squeezed your waist tighter as he came inside you with a loud moan. Your body was tingling and sweaty and all you wanted was to lay down now. You went limp in his arms and pushed you into the mattress, falling down on top of you. He laid there for a minute before pulling out and rolling to the side. You laid there and panted as you tried to calm your body. You felt his cum drip out of you and shuddered at the sudden feeling of emptiness. As you laid there you didn't feel so weird about the situation anymore, maybe this was your true intention when you gave him that piece of paper that day. Bucky rolled over and pulled you into his chest. He wrapped an arm around you, buried his nose in your hair and sighed, and as you drifted off to sleep in his arms you realized that deep down inside this is what you wanted.

[eclecticmuses]

The Weight On Their Shoulders

Like many of you, I’m still working through my feelings about the episode. This is part of my attempt to process, and steer things in a direction I hope the show takes. Unbeta’d.

Read on AO3

-:-

It was two days before Jemma was able to bring herself to go see Fitz down in holding.

She had been too devastated at first, still reeling from what he had done, to feel like she could handle it. She didn’t want to leave him alone by himself, where he was surely suffocating under the weight of his own remorse and self-recrimination, but she didn’t know what she could say. She was still struggling to process everything and what it meant--for the team, for Fitz, for her and Fitz together.

Jemma had kept mostly to herself since everything had happened. Daisy was angry and bitter, May was focused on finding Coulson, and she honestly didn’t know how Mack and Elena felt; the other woman hadn’t said anything about it whenever Jemma came to check on her and monitor her recovery, but she could always feel her eyes on her. Not judgmental, just closely observing, but Jemma didn’t know how to take it. So she said nothing either, only sticking to the basics of what she needed to ensure Elena’s proper care.

The only person who regularly spoke to her was Deke. He had become her shadow in the time since, always following her around, making sure she tried to get some sleep, encouraging her to eat, standing guard outside the bathroom whenever she got sick. She still didn’t know what to make of the revelation that he was, in fact, her grandson, but she was almost grateful for his attention. She was afraid that everyone hated her now through association with Fitz, but Deke’s patient loyalty was proof that someone, at least, still cared.

And it was Deke’s gentle pleas that gave her the strength to make her way down to holding. “Fitz needs you right now,” he’d said quietly as he presented her with a mug of tea that she’d taught him how to make. “I can’t pretend I understand what you’re feeling and thinking. I just know what I know. And that’s that you two can make it through this. Remember what I said?”

Jemma had nodded, her eyes focused on her tea. The steps you take don’t need to be big. They just need to take you in the right direction. Her own words, said with such conviction by the man in front of her, who she barely knew, but was her grandson. He’d given her a faint spark of hope, and that hope was what carried her down the elevator to where holding was, even as her chest constricted with apprehension.

When she came into the outer room, Jemma could see Fitz sitting on the bed facing away from her, his arms balanced on his knees and his head hung low between his shoulders. Her first thought was of overwhelming bittersweet longing--she missed him, she wanted him by her side. The man she loved was in pain and she couldn’t take it away from him. But she was still trying to reconcile the good man she loved with the man who had tortured Daisy, who had trained a gun on her and Deke.

She approached the window. “Fitz,” she said quietly.

His head lifted at the sound of her voice, but there was a pause before he twisted to look around at her. “Jemma?” he asked, his voice hoarse. “Is that really you?”

Her mind flashed back to a time where he had asked her the very same thing, and it made a lump rise in her throat. “Yes,” she replied thickly, nodding her head. “It’s really me. I promise.”

Fitz nodded slowly back, looking away and worrying at the wedding band on his finger. “I didn’t think you would come back.”

The lump in her throat swelled, threatening to choke her. “Fitz…” Jemma swallowed to fight back the tears that were threatening. “I...I’m still processing all of this, but please...don’t ever think for one second that I would abandon you.”

He kept twisting his ring around his finger. “You did once before,” he mumbled.

Jemma squeezed her eyes shut. She thought they’d worked past all of that, but it made sense that that would be plaguing him right now. She wanted to chastise herself for not coming down sooner, but she couldn’t. Not fully. She hadn’t been really. Opening her eyes, she steeled herself. “Fitz,” she said again. “It’s different now. I’m different. I know we--we didn’t actually say the words, but, for better or worse--I meant it. With all of my heart. That’s not something I can just go back on.”

Fitz raised his head to look at her again, and his expression was pure anguish. “How?” he rasped. “How can you not hate me for what I’ve done? Not just to--to Daisy, to Mack, but to you? I’m not a good man, Jemma. How can you even look at me?”

Jemma took in a shaky breath. “Because I love you,” she said, her voice brimming with emotion. “And I believe that you are a good man. I...I don’t know how we’ll get through this, Fitz, but...I have to have faith that we can. I have to try.”

Shaking his head, Fitz buried his face in his hands for a long moment before dragging them off, but he keep his gaze pointed toward the floor. “You don’t understand, Jemma,” he said lowly. “That wasn’t some fear manifestation or, or a programmed simulation of me. It was me. Me. I did that.” He jabbed a finger at his chest, his tone dripping with self-loathing. “I am the Doctor, and the Doctor is me. There’s no separating us. Because I still think I did the right thing.” He shook his head. “You should leave me locked up down here for good. It’s the only way any of you will ever be safe from me.”

Jemma hated listening to Fitz talk about himself that way, and it made the tears brimming in her eyes finally spill over. She stepped closer to the window, pressing her fingertips along the bottom of it. “Please, Fitz,” she begged. “Please. Let me help you. I--I can’t lose you.”

“I think you already have,” he replied quietly, his head still bowed.

Jemma shook her head even though he couldn’t see her, feeling utterly distraught.”No,” she said quickly, “no. Fitz, I--”

She cut off, unsure if she should say what she was thinking. She was desperate for a way to get through to him, and what she had to tell him might only make things worse, but she told herself that he had a right to know. The longer she kept it from him, the worse the fallout might be. She took in another shuddering breath, she summoned up her frayed resolve.

“Fitz, I’m pregnant,” she whispered.

Fitz’s head shot up, his eyes wide as they connected with hers. Then he stood quickly, and took one halting step forward. “You--” he choked. “Jemma--?”

Jemma nodded and swiped at her cheeks, tears rolling down them. “I wanted this to be happy news,” she said wetly. “I wanted--”

“But it’s not, because I’m a monster,” Fitz cut in, clenching his hands into fists and looking away again.

“Fitz, no,” Jemma cried. Biting back a sob, she looked to the door that connected her room with Fitz’s, locked from her side. “I want to come in.”

Fitz whipped back around. “No, Jemma, I really don’t think--”

“Please,” she blurted.

He stared at her for a long moment, frozen, before he finally gave one short, terse nod of his head. Jemma immediately went to the door and unlocked it, opening it slowly and stepping inside. Fitz’s eyes were darting between herself and the door, like he was afraid of her, or he didn’t trust himself not to take advantage of the door being open and bolt. Jemma approached him carefully, not wanting to spook him. When she was a hand’s length away, she stopped and looked up at him. Up close she could see that his hair was unkempt, as if he’d been constantly tugging at it and raking his hands through, and there were dark circles smudged beneath his eyes. Once again, her heart went out to him, wanting nothing more than to ease his suffering and make things right--for the both of them. For everyone.

Fitz watched as Jemma lifted her hands to him, uncertain; they hovered between them before finally coming to rest lightly on his chest. He tensed, but he didn’t pull away. Taking courage from that, she slowly wrapped her arms around his middle, stepping forward and exhaling as she rested her cheek against his shoulder. After a pause, she felt Fitz’s arms come around her in turn, his hands feather-light on her shoulders. She could still feel that he was holding himself back from her, but it was still a start. She would take it.

The steps don’t have to be big.

Jemma lost track of how long they stood that way, silently holding each other, but when her heart felt like it was pounding a little less painfully in her chest and her urge to sob no longer overwhelmed her, she tried to speak again.

“Fitz,” she said. “You have to let me help you. If you can’t do it for me…” She stopped, sniffling, and tried again. “I want our child to know their father. And I hope--I believe--that you would be nothing but the best father in the universe.”

“How can you know that?” Fitz whispered brokenly, as though he didn’t dare to believe her.

She thought of what Deke said again, how he’d spoken so fondly of Fitz and said that it all came from his mother. It wasn’t her story to tell him, and she rather felt that one big revelation was enough for today. But she took the hope that Deke had given her and held onto it tight, just as tightly as she was holding Fitz.

“Because I know you better than you know yourself, sometimes,” she whispered, taking a leaf from Deke’s book. She breathed in, listening to the steady thump of Fitz’s heartbeat beneath her ear, and willed every ounce of love she felt for him to shine through in her words. “They couldn’t convince me that you were a bad man in the Framework, and you can’t convince me now. This...this won’t be easy. But I want to help you through this. I want you to let me help you through this. Because we have a future together...and I’m not going to let some silly curse try to take that from us.”

Fitz huffed quietly, a mere puff of breath that almost, almost felt like it had a ghost of humor to it.

Keeping her arms around him, Jemma lifted her head just enough to be able to look him in the eye again. “Do you trust me?” she asked.

Fitz bit his lip before nodding slightly.

She gave him a small, soft smile, the best she could do at the moment. “I know you can’t trust yourself right now,” she continued. “So trust me. We can work through this. You, me, everyone. I--I want you to be honest with me, and--tell me, when you see him or hear him. I want to help you, but I can’t if you don’t let me in. We’ve always worked better together, haven’t we?” Fitz nodded again, slowly, his eyes caught on hers. Jemma wanted to believe that he believed in her, but everything was so broken. At least he was listening to her now. Giving him another tiny smile, she pressed her hands into his back, her chest constricting with emotion. “Will you let me do this for you?” she asked tremulously. “...My husband?”

The tears in Fitz’s eyes finally fell as his face crumpled. Jemma tightened her arms around him and did her best to keep her gaze steady on his, open, letting everything she felt for him show through--her trust, her faith, her resolve. Finally, he nodded again. “I...I can try,” he whispered, his chin trembling.

Jemma’s smile widened briefly before she stepped back in to turn her face into his neck, letting herself try to find a measure of calm in the fact that Fitz was letting her hold him, and willing to let her try. This didn’t solve everything--not by a long shot--but it was a beginning, and she was prepared to see it through to the end. They could come out of this; they could still be the family she wanted to have with him. He could begin to heal.

The steps he took didn’t need to be big. They just needed to be in the right direction.