#wait maybe the kitchen counter when i was inhaling steam okay fingers crossed

[songofsunset]

Where the FUCK are my glasses

[itrytowrite-things]

Murder podcasts

Spencer Reid x reader 

Summary: Y/N has a tendency to listen to murder podcasts while doing chores, one day Spencer comes in unannounced scaring Y/N into action. (This summary sucks but it’s fluffy) 

A/N: shout out to @with-paint, she helped me form some of this fic so check them out. 

The eerie background music and narrator filled the kitchen as I scrubbed diligently at a plate. I blinked down at it, trying in vain to remember what the hell I used it for that would cause such a stubborn stain of food. Sighing, I squeezed the soap bottle some more and ran hot water over it. Maybe soaking it would help? 

Grabbing a few of the cups I had washed, I spun around from the sink to a towel I had laid out earlier. I scrunched my nose as cold soap suds ran down my arm, hit my elbow and fell to the floor in a sticky mess I didn’t want to deal with right now. 

I was so engrossed in the podcast playing over the Alexa that I barely even processed the grueling chore that was longer than normal. I was lost in the words, that an hour longer scrubbing at dishes seemed almost fun. The dishwasher had completely died a couple of weeks ago. 

Normally Spencer would speed read the manual to figure out what was wrong with the stupid machine. But unfortunately, his case in Michigan was taking longer than he anticipated. So, he hadn’t been home to look into it, leaving me to hand wash the dishes. I didn’t mind, it was a mindless task and allowed me to catch up on my favorite podcast. 

“They found her body a week later, twenty minutes from their house,” I shook my head at that, case freaking solved. Her husband obviously killed her. I mean there’s no way the police didn’t solve this case, come on.

I moved from the towel back to the sink, sticking my hands back into the soapy water. I always believed that I should be a detective. I could solve these cases easily, Spencer claims that suspicion can only take me so far and the reason that they don’t catch the guy is not because they don’t suspect it, but because they don’t have hard evidence. I normally just scoff and give him a kiss knowing that I would get the bad guy in the end, “hard evidence” my ass. 

“Two months later the police came in and found Jeff’s disembodied head laying on their kitchen counter.” My jaw dropped and I turned around furiously, bringing a wet butter knife with me, on instinct I pointed the knife at the device. 

“Oh shit.” I said to the speaker, as if it were relaying the case itself. Well turns out I was wrong. I cleared my throat and lowered the stupid knife. I placed it down and tried my best to look less scandalized. We all make mistakes. So I might have been a little off in my husband theory, but I mean I had only heard half the case at that point so it doesn’t speak anything of my amazing detective skills. I nodded at that and tossed the knife into a little stack of silverware. The metallic sound echoing around the kitchen. I smirked at my good throw and turned back to the sink. 

I quickly got into the true grove of washing the dishes, listening to the more gruesome details of the case. Turns out the killer did quite a number on old Jeff. I was halfway done with the remaining dishes when I felt a tap on my shoulder sending my heart into a frenzy. 

I whirled around quickly bringing the closest item with me as a weapon. The plastic spatula slapped the asalint straight in the face creating an awfully loud twack sound that bounced off the kitchen walls. I blinked in horror at realizing who exactly was standing in front of me. 

Spencer's cheek turned red immediately. 

“Oh my god! Spence! I am so sorry!” I dropped the spatula and brought my other hand to his face trying to soothe his skin. My hand was covered in water and soap suds, and it dripped down his face onto the already wet floor.

“I am so so sorry. You scared me.” I rubbed my thumb over the spot, feeling his heated skin. Jesus, I felt awful. I didn’t hold anything back when I hit him. I figured I was fending for my life, not greeting my boyfriend. 

“It’s okay.” His much larger hand cupped mine removing it from his face. The redness had died down a little, making his skin a rosy pink instead of the previous bright red. He looked adorable which only made me feel worse. Who looks that cute after getting slapped in the face with a spatula? 

Spencer startled me yet again when a chuckle came bubbling out of him. His laugh was like someone bottled the sound of happiness. It made my own laughter arise every time without a doubt even if I didn’t understand what was funny.

“I guess I don’t have to worry about you protecting yourself.” A loud squeak sound emitted from my body unexpectedly followed by more laughter. I slapped him very lightly across the chest, kissing his unharmed cheek. 

“You're lucky I wasn’t cutting vegetables.” I said,  rustling my way into his arms pulling his body against my tightly, loving the way his laughter shook my entire body. I felt the short press of his lips against the crown of my head before tucking my head into the nook of his neck. I inhaled deeply, taking the scent of him with me. The apartment had started to lose its scent with him being gone for so long. I was beyond eager for the apartment to smell like us again.

“I think those podcasts are giving you wild ideas.” 

“They would never find your body Dr.Reid.” I teased, poking gently at his side making him squirm in my grip. Another round of laughter filled the small space, it was only when it died down that I realized my podcast was still running in the background. 

“Alexa, stop,” I shouted into the air stopping the podcast. “The neighbor did it.” I said with coincidence knowing that my answer was correct this time. Spencer let out a belt of laughter, nodding his head, a big grin on his face. 

I pulled back from Spencer taking in his features for the first time. He looked tired, his eye bags had doubled creating a skunk in effect. I could see the trouble in his eyes, the case was hard. It killed me to see him after a hard case, he looked more and more defeated after each one. However, it was what he loved doing and my job wasn’t to erase the trauma of his job, but to ease him back into daily life. I thumbed his eye bags lazily, a pout taking over my face. 

“You wanna take a shower and I’ll start us some dinner.” I asked gently. Not wanting to completely destroy the quiet we created. He nodded slightly looking younger than ever. I quickly pulled him back into me taking all of his weight. “I love you bub.” His hair felt silky against my fingertips as I disentangled the curls. 

“Love you too.” He mumbled, his heated breath warming my skin. I waited a few comfortable minutes rocking our conjoined bodies in the cozy silence of our kitchen, I took a deep breath and said what was on my mind. 

“You wanna talk about it?”

I don’t ever ask Spencer for the details of his cases. He either goes into a tangent without prompting or doesn’t feel like talking about it. I used to think that talking to Spencer about his job would be like listening to my murder podcasts. It honestly was one of the things I was excited for, but I soon found out it’s nothing like that.

When Spencer spoke of cases it was personal. He felt every death that was caused and saw every killing through the eyes of monsters. He held so much emotion in his voice when he spoke of the victims, that I often can’t help but cry. How a person can hold that much pain and still continue to do it everyday, is beside me. 

He shook his head, squeezing my torso before finally pulling back and placing a soft kiss to my lips. 

I continued the dishes, washing the last few. I left the podcast off, listening instead to the shower from down the hall. I scrubbed off the last of the grime before starting the oven. A simple dinner was always best in these situations. I pulled out a pre-made chicken pot pie from the freezer and placed it in the oven. 

As I moved to dry and put away the dishes while waiting for pie to finish. Spencer emerged from the bathroom freshly bathed. He wore a thin gray shirt paired with some soft looking sweatpants. My upper lip jutted out automatically. God I love him. 

“Feel better?” I kept my voice low, not wanting to startle any peace that the shower might have brought him. He nodded slowly. 

“What did you cook?”

“A chicken pot pie, I hope that’s okay.” 

“It’s perfect.” He smiled and returned to my arms, kissing my neck once before tucking his head into my neck. The edge of his wet hair scraped against my skin in an uncomfortable way, yet I only moved enough to rub circles into his back. 

A loud beep emitted from the oven caused me to jump in Spencer's arms. He let out a small chuckle. 

“Pick us something to watch and I’ll plate us some food.” I hummed turning my back to him. I heard him walking towards the living room as I bent to retrieve the hot food. 

Spencer sat criss cross on the couch, Les Enfants du Paradis was displayed on the TV. I handed him the steaming bowl and sat down, sitting close enough for our knees to knock together. I have no idea what Les Enfants du Paradis was, but I would watch literally anything he wanted as long as he was here. 

“It’s in French, but I figured I could whisper the translations to you while we watch. Or I could pick something else?” 

“No! This is perfect Spence. I love it when you translate, you tell the story better.” He let out a little blush highlighting his previous slap mark. I bit my lip and winced slightly, “How’s your face?” 

He touched the spot faintly, he didn’t wince when his fingers made contact which was a good sign. However, I have an inkling that a small bruise would form in the center of the slap which was going to be a fun story to tell his colleagues Monday. 

“I’ve had worse, but you wield a lot of power with a cheap piece of plastic.”

“I am professionally trained in the art of spatula wielding Spence, don’t try that at home.” I stared at him, my face blank before a blast of laughter came out of both of us. One can only be so serious when you are talking about slapping people in the face with kitchen utensils. 

Spencer started up the movie, and we remained there for the rest of the evening. Laughter and dramatic sighs followed by even more dramatic translations from Spencer. At some point he went so off script that even I could tell his story was bullshit. I didn’t call him out though just allowed him to spit nonsense, I would let him create fake French stories until he was blue in the face if that meant we got to stay in this happy bubble forever. 

[bumblebear30]

Cookie Jar

uuuh so @storiesofsvu answered an ask the other day about would you rather have your hands stuck in jars or your head stuck in a bucket and it immediately spawned this whole idea so now you get a daft wee story. Just a bit of chaotic fun so I hope you enjoy.

Once again Olivia found herself sat in the DA’s office long after her shift finished. Of course it wasn’t just any old office that she found herself sat in, again, but rather she’d made a home for herself in the seat opposite Assistant District Attorney Alexandra Cabot’s desk. Of late she’d found herself spending more time sat there than at her own desk in the precinct, but she wasn’t exactly complaining.

Tonight it was a thinly veiled excuse of working through a case that was coming up for trial with Alex. A case she knew the blonde could win blindfolded but she was just so pleased to have Alex back in her life now after witsec, that she was more than happy to use work as an excuse whilst supporting Alex. Olivia shifted in the seat slightly as she ignored the fact that increasingly she was finding the work excuse wasn’t cutting it, it was like she couldn’t get enough of Alex and she’d found herself getting increasingly anxious every time she had to leave. Not that she'd admit that feeling or any others, or to Alex.

The blonde in question tried to stifle yet another in a series of yawns, drawing Olivia’s attention to just quite how late it had gotten,

“Hey, do you want to finish up?”

The blonde tipped her head from side to side to stretch it out before smiling tiredly at Olivia,

“No, no we've just got to get through this tonight so that it is done.”

“Well how about a coffee?” At the offer Alex pulls an adorable disgruntled face that makes Liv chuckle, “Okay, tea it is then, it okay to use the kitchenette or do I have to go out for it?

Grateful for the break Alex continues to stretch like a cat, popping her back and neck from having hunched over for slightly too long - Olivia is ever so thankful Alex keeps her eyes closed  during the whole process as she knows she had no chance of suppressing a blush from colouring her cheeks at the sight. Finally stretched out Alex smiled gently and waved at Olivia who was already standing,

“The breakroom kitchen should be fine, there's some good tea on the top shelf.” She winked at Liv conspiratorially, “It's where we hide all the good stuff. Help yourself - just don't use the two milks in the front door, they've been there for months.”

“Gross, but thanks for the heads up,”

“Oh and Liv?”

Olivia spun on her heel to face Alex,

“Yeah?”

Olivia's heart squeezed extra hard at the soft look Alex seemed to be giving her as she tilted her head, 

“Thank you.”

***

Alex sifted through the papers and statements spread out in front of her - truth be told she should have been finished up by now but she'd been too caught up in enjoying having Olivia in the same room, going through everything in the case together with a fine tooth-comb that made her relaxed and far happier than she'd care to admit... Publicly at least. And even if she could have gone through everything by herself quicker, Olivia's input and presence definitely meant she did as thorough a job as she was capable of - for the case, not to impress her detective, of course. 

‘Speaking of detective’, Alex mused to herself trying ever so hard to ignore the possessive term she'd accidently just used, where on earth had she gotten to? 

Giving Olivia another 5 minutes Alex eventually gave in to her growing concern and went searching, a bubbling fear of Olivia falling whilst trying to reach the top shelf suddenly becoming more acute with each passing moment. 

“Liv? Is everything okay? Do you need a hand?”

Alex quickly rounded into the small break room kitchenette and was immediately relieved to not find Olivia sprawled unconscious on the floor. But the way the brunette had instantly startled and turned to face Alex with her hands clutched behind her back, looking slightly red faced and harried (even if the flushed colour did look so damn good on her Alex thought), immediately clued the lawyer in that something was amiss. 

She quickly reached back and closed the door behind her and looked the scene over more thoroughly. The cabinet door was still open, her box of tea down on the counter next to two gently steaming mugs. Everything there seemed quite normal. Olivia's ongoing nervous silence however, was not. She'd still made no move to show whatever it was she was hiding behind her back and was nervously shifting her weight where she stood. Alex crossed her arms and tried to pin her with a look, 

"Olivia Benson what did you do?" 

"Do? Me?! Nothing! Why would you think I'd done anything, everything is fine."

Without breaking eye contact Alex stepped towards her and her suspicions were only confirmed and heightened when the detective matched her with a step away, still keeping her back to the wall and away from Alex. 

"If you haven't done anything then what are you hiding?" 

Alex's slow smirk was matched by Olivia's shoulders slumping momentarily as she realised her on the spot acting had not been up to par, 

"I'm not hiding anything, I'm fine,” her gaze shifted guiltily thought as she gulped, “or I will be in a little bit…”

A sudden horrible thought occurred to Alex that had her stepping forward unconsciously, 

"Oh god did you get hurt? You didn’t’ scald yourself on the kettle did you? It's an awful old thing." 

It would be so typical of her detective to be injured and not think to make a fuss of it or tell Alex, but before the blonde could reach her to tug her arms up to inspect for injuries Olivia shifted again, still keeping Alex at bay. 

"No Alex, please don't, I'm not hurt… although maybe my ego is...” 

Alex stopped and pursed her lips whilst fixing the brunette with a hard stare, it was an automatic motion really but it seemed to make something click for the detective. 

"Did you mean it before?”

"Mean what?" 

Olivia finally, sheepishly brought her hands up in front of her, well one of them at least - the other seemed to be firmly stuck in a ceramic cookie jar, 

"That you'd give me a hand?"  

***

After Alex had finally stopped laughing - she'd literally had to take her glasses off and wipe away a few tears - Olivia was secretly bowled over with how gorgeous she looked with such a wide grin and mischievous sparkle in her eyes. It was enough to take away the sting of mortification of being caught, quite literally, with her hand in the cookie jar. 

She had to remind herself to breathe when the willowy blonde stepped in her space and picked up her jar/hand, turning it over carefully as she took stock of the hapless detective’s predicament, 

"How on earth did you manage to do this?" 

The way their eyes met whilst their faces were so close made Olivia's faltering attempts to breathe stutter even more. Every inhalation brought with it traces of Alex's perfume - definitely something with bergamot her brain not so helpfully supplied - and it was turning Olivia's already overwrought senses spinning. Swallowing thickly and looking down at the jar so she didn't get lost in the depths of Alex's blue eyes even more she tried to shrug, 

"I spotted the jar at the back of the shelf with your tea and was curious,” her eyes flicked back to Alex's warm gaze for a second before glancing back down, "I thought you deserved a small treat for working through dinner.” She quickly tried to reassure Alex, “I would’ve replaced the cookies tomorrow you know, I wasn't just going to steal them.”

"As a decorated detective first class of the NYPD I would have hated to ruin your sterling reputation by reporting you for cookie theft." Alex teased her as she gently rotated the jar trying to get a sense of how it could be pried off. 

Olivia laughed, 

"As an officer of the courts I would understand that any involvement in such a crime would put you in an awkward spot, but to sell me out so quickly?!" she clutched her free hand to her chest dramatically, "Alexandra I'm hurt that our years together have meant so little to you." 

‘And if only you knew how much they meant to me’ Olivia mentally finished to herself.

Her counter teasing at least earned an eye roll and good-natured huff from Alex who dragged her over to the sink by the en-jarred hand, before rummaging through the cupboard and emerging victorious with a small bottle of olive oil, 

"Well it’s a tough spot you've put me in you know," Olivia simply watched quietly amused as Alex drizzled a little of the oil over her wrist and gently rotated the jar to spread it, "I'm now a material witness at least." 

"Witness? Wouldn't this currently could as aiding and abetting?" Olivia wiggled her still trapped hand whilst arching her eyebrow at Alex, earning a slightly petulant huff,

"Remind me, who is the lawyer here? I'm a witness." 

"Anything you say counsellor." 

"Exactly. Now just let me think how to get us both out of this mess."

 ***

Alex tried to keep herself on the task at hand - ha! at hand, she really was hilarious at times, far more than Novak ever gave her credit for- and ignored how being in such close proximity and getting to touch Olivia this freely was entirely too enjoyable. She continued to try twist the jar off, seemingly having some success with the oil lubricating the way but she stopped as soon as she noticed a tightening of Olivia's eyes, 

"If I'm hurting you, you need to say." 

"No, its not sore it just felt... Weird." 

"Can't you like curl your fingers together? We could get a better angle then."

“Like this?”

“No, try like this.”

“It's just such a tight space.”

“Well you got in there just fine. Stop wriggling, oh no wait keep moving your fingers like that.” 

“I should've known you would be bossy –“ 

"I am not bos-“

"Oh thank fuck you guys are clothed!" 

Both of them of them jumped together before twisting their heads, guilty wide-eyed looks plastered over their faces as an immensely relieved looking Casey Novak was leaning against the door for support. 

"Novak!? What are you doing here," Alex was the first to recover even as Olivia quickly blurted a not so subtle follow up, 

"It’s not what it looks like!" It earned her a particular glare from Alex.

"Well I'm just damn relieved it's not what it sounded like either." Casey could barely keep from laughing.

"Wait what?" Olivia seemed even more confused than Alex felt, although she was quite pleased at how Olivia's free hand had come to rest along her back protectively.

"From out there" - Casey waved behind her to the empty corridor, "I thought you two had finally stopped dancing round each other you know?" 

"What??" Alex internally winced at how high pitched her usually reliable voice came out. She refused to look at Olivia in case the detective could read her but as they were still pressed together - somehow instinctually having both decided to hide the cookie jar from whoever the intruder was - she couldn't unsee how rigid Olivia's posture had become. 

Casey looked at the two of them shifting nervously for a moment or two before grinning, 

"You know what, never mind, I'll make a coffee later," some part of Alex really didn't like the knowing smirk Casey was sending them both as she motioned towards them, "I'll leave you two to get back to whatever it was you were doing. Just don't break the coffee machine is all I ask. Defile whatever ever else you want." 

With a parting chuckle the redhead disappeared and Alex had never felt such a mix of confusion, relief and apprehension. She turned to Liv slowly, seeing a similarly bemused and befuddled look gracing her unfairly gorgeous face, 

"I don't quite know what just happened." Alex chuckled to try dispel the tension that was rising at being so still and so close to Liv. In an attempt to deflect away from her own jumping pulse rate she motioned for Olivia to give her her trapped hand again, 

"Come on let's get you free." 

After several more minutes of pulling, rotating, wriggling and cursing the jar was still stuck and Alex could feel her frustration rising as her cheeks got flushed and hair got messed up the more she ran her hands through it. 

"Maybe we should've asked Casey to help?" 

Olivia's suggestion sent a flash of irrational jealousy through Alex, 

"And bring in another lawyer to witness your crime Liv? I wouldn't be able to protect you then you know." With a huff of renewed vigour Alex braced her hands around the jar and motioned for Olivia to pull, 

"Oh yeah?" Olivia let out a small grunt as she pulled, her voice a little breathless from the exertion which sent Alex pulse and brain spinning unhelpfully. That noise was going to haunt her sleepless nights for weeks she just knew it. She only refocused when Olivia continued to huff as she rotated and pulled again, "so how were you going to protect me and not incriminate yourself exactly?" 

Alex readjusted her grip, as usual her lawyer ability to work through a legal argument in the background of her subconscious kicked in, not even really realising what she was saying as her brain tried to cope with operating on so many levels, 

"Spousal privilege." 

"What?" Olivia's shock meant she didn't counterbrace for Alex's next pull and the blonde suddenly had an armful of slightly ruffled hot detective, those big brown eyes boring into her blue ones as they stumbled back a step or two.

"What did you just say Alex?" Olivia's voice was low, almost just louder than a whisper and it pulled Alex's focus to the soft roundness of Olivia's lips which were now oh so close to her own. Her blood raced in her ears as she finally worked out what Olivia was asking and her earlier response. Her tongue peeked out momentarily as she wetted her bottom lip, and Alex could see how Olivia's gaze zeroed in on the motion. Everything was happening so fast, 

"Spousal privilege," Olivia's eyebrow arched as she looked at Alex, the small movement making the normally composed blonde stutter and panic, "I wouldn't be able to testify as a witness against you then." 

Olivia's head dipped forward just fractionally, and Alex's heart stopped as she thought the detective might be going in for a kiss but she pulled up short. Her eyes closed and giving a small quiet sigh so Alex set about convincing herself she must've just read it wrong, again. Olivia righted herself from Alex's arms, it was a small step away but Alex felt the loss and distance keenly, 

"Oh I see," there was a heaviness to the detectives voice and she was looking at her feet as if they contained the answer for the world's problems. Alex decided to be just a little bit braver, it was now or never really, 

"Of course," her voice and small half step towards Olivia drew the brunettes gaze back to her own, "You'd have to actually ask me out first you know."

She aimed for nonchalant, on that edge of acceptable fun flirting with a friend that could be laughed off, a place she knew all too well when it came to how she had protected herself around Olivia for so long. Alex could see Olivia's throat bob as she swallowed, her brown eyes casting quickly over Alex's face as if she were looking for something, 

“And would you?" 

The question back was not what Alex was expecting, 

"What?" 

Olivia took a half a step back towards her, the two of them stood so close once again Alex could smell the other woman's perfume, 

"Would you go out with me if I asked?" 

Holding Olivia's gaze her response was so immediate, so quietly confident that she just hoped it would be obvious to the detective how truly she meant it. With her detective stood so close to her it took Alex no effort to briefly brush her fingers across Olivia's strong jaw to tuck some of the wavy brown locks that had come loose behind her ear, 

"In a heartbeat Liv." 

Neither of them moved, the moment so heavy with tension and hope that everything that surrounded them was a blur. She could see the exact moment Olivia's cheek splitting grin started, a brightness to her eyes and lightness to the set of her shoulders that Alex hadn't realised she'd been missing for so long.

 "Really?" 

Almost tentatively Olivia reached out to place a hand on Alex's hip and heat of the gentle touch caused her to breathe in sharply. She looked up to meet Olivia's eyes with a coy smile of her own, biting down on her bottom lip momentarily,

 "Really really." 

And suddenly Alex's arms were filled with her detective once more but this time Olivia's lips were pressing gently but purposefully against hers and Alex's own hands were skating up strong arms and shoulders and burying themselves in those temptingly soft chocolate brown locks that had tormented her for years.

Olivia broke the kiss after a second or two, leaning back just enough to check in with Alex and the blonde's heart burst with sheer adoration for the woman in front of her. She surged forward and a small moan escaped her when Olivia's lips met her own with heated ease. The sound seemed to spark something in the detective and Alex felt herself be pressed back several steps as the fieriness of the kiss increased, years of pent up emotion being poured between them.

Alex's back thumped into the wall and whilst not winded or sore, the impact was enough to make her gasp slightly and Olivia, her free hand still wrapped around Alex waist, pulled her closer against her body as she swiped her tongue across Alex's pouty bottom lip. The tall lawyer didn't stand a chance of suppressing the noise of guttural want that escaped her, her hips pressing up against Liv's as she arched into her.

Only the sound of breaking ceramic hitting the floor interrupted them, and they both paused, breaths heavy, chests heaving as they blinked at each other for a second or two before glancing down to the side where Liv's now free hand was flexing and the cookie jar laid in several pieces on the floor below.

Glancing back up Alex caught Olivia's gaze and couldn't help but giggle, a sound she tried to hastily to cover up with her own hands across her face but when Olivia matched her, a soft laugh that was then muffled as the detective placed her forehead against Alex's shoulder as they tried to compose themselves. Eventually she pulled away, an all too pleased if not still coy smile gracing her face as she pushed away from the wall and gave Alex enough room to right herself and brush the front of her shirt back down,

"Sorry, uh, the wall, I forgot, and, uh, guess I'm free now?" 

She flexed her wrist around and wriggled her fingers to check them. Alex stepped forward and carefully took Olivia's hand in her own, her pulse stuttering and soaring as she also inspected for any damage,

"You do know there are easier ways to get a girls attention detective."

The teasing glance over the top of her glasses was enough to have Olivia fingers curling round her own and Alex couldn't suppress the happy shiver or blinding smile such an innocuous and relatively innocent motion elicited in her,

"Yeah, well, it seems to have worked for the only one whose attention I wanted," she bumped her shoulder against Alex which made the lawyer blush happily. 

She gave Olivia's hand an extra squeeze before dropping it gently. Turning she quickly knelt and carefully scooped up the broken pieces of jar.

She rose to find Olivia watching her, an odd mix of what looked like hunger and fondness shining through,

"Come on you, I think we've got some talking to do..."

Glancing over her shoulder Alex was pleased to see Olivia was eagerly following her,

“Just talking?”

The flirtatious and hopeful question makes Alex smile, she turns and walks backwards the last few steps to her office, reaching out to tug Olivia to her as she arches her eyebrow enticingly,

“Guess you’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?”

***

It was a few days later when Olivia next found herself, once again, heading towards Alex’s office, although this time with a particularly noticeable spring in her step and glow about her that even Elliot and Cragen had commented on. Her pace quickened as she neared it, although had to pull up sharply as the door was opened by Casey, still facing into the office where she was obviously still talking to Alex,

“- Sure Al, whatever you need to tell yourself.”

Olivia could hear her Alex’s voice – normally so composed and forthright – was whiny, almost bordering on panicked,

“No, Casey! She literally had her hand in the cookie jar!”

Casey laughed once more and finally spotted Olivia loitering at the door a little sheepishly. The boisterous redhead winked at her before replying to Alex,

“Oh I bet she did Alex, I bet she did.” 

[clumsyclifford]

i don't know if it's rude to request more than one thing (i hope it's not) but "44. Tender kiss" with jalex? -fiancee

oh my god so happily, fiancee. this fic is the result of me listening to my we’re gonna be alright playlist (actually now it has a fun new name but that’s not important). would like to say for whatever it’s worth that i looked up the definition of tender to be sure i was getting the correct vibes so if you have questions you may direct them to the google definition of tender dgkjgsklj

ao3 link!

-

“I’ll make some tea,” Alex says. Jack blinks at him on the threshold. 

“I don’t like tea.”

“Yes you do,” Alex says, but he doesn’t say it in a mean way. It’s just true, and Jack always forgets.

“Oh,” Jack says. His mouth curves into a tired, tired smile. “You know me better than I know myself.”

“I know,” Alex says gently, reaching for Jack’s hand. “Come on. Come inside.”

Jack comes easily, pliant under Alex’s touch. Alex leads them both to the kitchen, and when Alex lets go of his wrist to fill the electric kettle, Jack just stands there, looking a bit lost. “When’s the last time you swept?”

“Yesterday,” Alex says. He turns around in time to see Jack crouch down and sit cross-legged on the tiled kitchen floor. “Okay, then.”

“You should get chairs in your kitchen,” Jack says half-heartedly, leaning heavily against the fridge. His posture’s all awry, shoulders slumping over, and after a minute he shifts his legs so one is extended across the floor and the other is bent at the knee, drawn up to his chest. On this one Jack rests his chin, and finally looks up at Alex as Alex is setting the water to boil.

“Okay,” Alex says, but he won’t. Even if he had chairs, Jack would sit on the floor. There’s something about the floor that makes Jack feel grounded (pun not intended but, well, logical) — Alex gets it. Sometimes he sits on the floor, too, just to press his palms against the linoleum and absorb the chill, just to remember that he’s here, a person, feeling things. Also, it’s nice to be low to the ground, instead of towering above it like they both so often are.

“What kind of tea do I like?” Jack asks listlessly, smushing his cheek against his knee.

“Raspberry,” Alex says. “With honey.”

“You put honey in it?”

“Of course I do. You can’t have herbal tea without honey.”

“I didn’t know you did that.”

“Now you do.”

“Now I do,” Jack echoes. There’s a reverberating silence in the kitchen as the kettle becomes static background noise. Alex reaches for the cabinet with the mugs and takes out Jack’s favorite one — nothing obscene, just a custom mug Rian had made for each of them, printed with a picture of the band after Warped one year. Jack is between Alex and Zack, one arm slung over Zack’s shoulders, the other hand grabbing Alex’s face and planting a kiss on his cheek. Rian’s face is over Jack’s and Zack’s shoulders, million-dollar smile giving the photo an extra shine. Zack has his patented look of patiently controlled joy, while Alex looks elated at being kissed by Jack.

That checks out, Alex supposes. He’s always thrilled to have Jack’s lips anywhere on him.

The picture doesn’t pull him off-course. The mug goes on the counter and Alex’s usual mug — emblazoned with the Orioles logo — goes beside it, followed swiftly by the honey and two teabags.

“What kind of tea do you like?” comes Jack’s voice. Alex turns. He’s not moved at all and is just watching Alex putter around the kitchen.

“Depends on the day,” Alex says. He’s certain they’ve had this conversation before, verbatim, but it’s not like he wouldn’t humor Jack even if Jack remembered it, which he surely doesn’t. When the world grows too big for Jack, he zeroes in on the small things. Things like the kind of tea Alex likes to drink, and the chairs he does or doesn’t have in his kitchen.

“What are you having?”

“Lavender chamomile.” Alex tears the teabags open, Jack’s first and then his own, and sets them in the mugs, then turns to lean against the counter and return Jack’s gaze. “Do you want me to wait until the tea is done to ask what’s up?”

Jack takes a moment. “Yes,” he says quietly.

Alex crosses to him and crouches low. Jack’s eyes flit away and drop to the floor, where he picks at a fraying thread on his Converse. “Okay,” he says. “Are you too hot?”

Jack shakes his head.

“Cold?” Alex asks, and Jack hesitates, then shakes his head again.

“Not cold,” he says. “But if you have a hoodie, I wouldn’t…wouldn’t say no.”

“Let me grab one,” Alex says. He reaches tentatively out to brush a hand over Jack’s shoulder, then makes for his bedroom. Jack definitely has some favorites among Alex’s hoodie collection, and it takes Alex a moment to locate the most reliable one, a plain black zip-up with white drawstrings. He shakes it out and circles back to the kitchen. The kettle clicks just as Alex drops the hoodie into Jack’s lap, and Jack looks up at him, grateful.

While Jack drapes the hoodie over his shoulders, Alex pours the bubbling water into their respective mugs. It’s comforting to make tea; it reminds Alex of random Sundays at home, back before he’d ever been Alex Gaskarth, when he was just Alex, sometimes Lex, occasionally — to his mom and only his mom — Lexi. Afternoons sitting at the dining room table while his dad put the kettle on, carefully crafting the perfect cup of tea for the two of them to share, occasionally a third one for his mom also. (“It’s a splash of milk, Alex. This is a science. You’ve got to get it right. You ruin the tea, you lose your British citizenship. Don’t laugh, I’m serious. I’ve seen it happen.”)

Alex wonders how his dad would feel now, knowing he mostly drinks herbal tea when he has it at all.

The tea is done steeping by the time Alex pulls himself from his reverie; he dips the teabags once, twice more, retrieves a spoon and squeezes the excess water out of each one, then throws both in the trash and stirs the honey in. 

“Are we drinking it on the floor?” he asks as he approaches Jack, a mug in each hand. Jack’s pulled the hoodie on, and the sleeves fall over his hands so he has to push them up his arms. It’s a sweet picture. Alex takes a mental snapshot.

Jack nods in response to the question, so Alex kneels slowly. A smile crosses Jack’s face when he sees the picture on his mug. “I love this mug,” he says.

“I know,” Alex says. It never tires him to remind Jack how well Alex knows him, and Jack never seems tired of hearing it.

“Thank you,” Jack says humbly.

Alex carefully seats himself beside Jack, back against the fridge, shoulders brushing. “‘Course,” he says. They sit in the quiet for a minute, both blowing away the rising steam off their drinks. Jack’s arm winds around his right leg, so Alex pulls his left towards his chest and knocks their knees together. Jack gives him a reserved smile and takes a tentative sip from his mug.

“Okay,” he finally exhales. “You can ask.”

Alex gives it another moment, until he, too, takes a small sip of his tea. It’s still too hot, and scalds the tip of his tongue, but he’d expected that. Part of the tea-drinking experience is burning your tongue on the first sip. Satisfied, Alex sets it aside for now and stares out across the kitchen. “What’s going on?”

He feels rather than sees Jack shrug, shoulder grazing Alex’s as it rises and falls. “You know.” That’s vague, but Jack always starts vague. Alex has learned to be patient. It takes patience to get to the heart of the problem, but it always pays off. Jack never wants to wallow. It’s why he shows up at Alex’s doorstep at midnight, too willing to concede to the notion that he likes tea despite having no memory of enjoying it. They’ll solve this problem tonight. One way or another, Jack will be okay in the morning.

Alex takes another sip from his tea. It’s still hot, but notably less so; in just a minute or two, it’ll be at a bearable temperature for steady drinking. Beside him, Jack sighs deeply.

“So I opened my phone,” he begins, balancing his mug out in front of him. “And I had all these Twitter notifications. Which I always do. So I don’t know why suddenly I was like, woah, that’s a lot of notifications. And, like, that’s a lot of people trying to get my attention. So I turned off my phone, went on my laptop, got a text from Rian saying he’d sent me an email with some link to something, because Rian’s like fifty million years old. You know.” Alex breathes a mild laugh. “So I opened up my email, and I had so many emails. Have you ever cleaned out your inbox, Alex? I have never once in my life cleaned out my inbox. You don’t even want to know how many emails there are.” His fingers tighten around the mug, and Alex leans gently into him, a silent I’m here and so are you. Jack breathes unsteadily out. “It’s, like, in the ten-thousands. I think. Maybe hundred-thousands and I just can’t count high enough. And, like, you know. I’m never going to get through those. I’m never —” He breaks off and a hysterical laugh escapes his lips. “I’ll never get to all the people who are trying to reach me, I’ll never have zero unread emails, I’m never going to be free from it. Neither of us will. Sorry, not to, like, stress you out about it —”

“It’s okay,” Alex murmurs, “doesn’t bother me.” And it doesn’t. Alex knows some tricks to mass-clear his inbox, and he turned off most Twitter notifications a long time ago. Jack just likes to be plugged in. Alex admires that, that he always wants to know what’s going on, what the fans are saying to him, which of them are going to thank him for saving their lives, but somewhere in the darkest point of Alex’s life he’d made the executive decision that he could know it in theory without having to know it in practice, and to date it’s one of the best decisions he’s ever made.

“Okay, well, it bothers me,” Jack says, working himself up with it. Alex flattens his palm against the top of Jack’s knee, fingernails scratching lightly against his jeans as Jack inhales. “I just don’t understand — I don’t know how to get out of it. I don’t know how to not feel like it’s going to — to crush me or swallow me up or how not to feel like an asshole for ignoring texts from people because I already have so many I need to answer that I don’t have the energy to get to the ones I want to answer.”

“Start with a deep breath,” Alex suggests, delicate. Jack does, inhaling like his life depends on and holding it until he can’t anymore, until it comes rushing out of his mouth, deflating his chest and shoulders. “I can help with the emails. There are ways to delete a fuckton at once. We can do that together.”

“Thanks,” Jack says wearily.

“You should turn off your Twitter notifications,” Alex continues, although he knows Jack won’t. “You can still check it whenever you want, but this way you won’t have it hanging over your head.”

Predictably, Jack shakes his head. “I know you say it’ll make me feel better, but I don’t think it will. I think I’ll still know there are people trying to get to me and I just won’t know exactly who, or how many, and that’s worse. That’s worse.”

“But you should try,” Alex insists. “Just see how you feel. If it’s worse, it’s worse, and you can always turn them back on. You know they’re not doing you any good like this, so you may as well try.”

Jack sighs. “Maybe.”

Well, maybe is a step up from no. Alex decides that counts as a victory. He can press the matter later, when Jack’s a little more sure-footed.

“The rest…” Alex bites his lip, pensive. “You’re not an asshole, by the way. I don’t know if I said that, but you’re not.”

“Contrary to popular belief,” Jack says, a taxing inside joke that makes Alex huff a laugh.

“Contrary to popular belief,” he agrees. “You’re just a rock star. You don’t owe anyone shit.”

“Maybe you’re the asshole, talking like that.”

Jack is teasing, so Alex inclines his head and humors him. “Maybe,” he says. “But when’s the last time I showed up on your doorstep at midnight, huh?”

“Other than to get drunk and binge-watch Say Yes To The Dress?”

Alex nudges him with his elbow. If Jack is cracking jokes, he’s already feeling better. “Yes. Other than that. My point is that you should come first. If too many people are texting you, you can ignore some of them.”

“I just don’t want to,” Jack complains. He sets his mug on the floor between his legs and leans his head on Alex’s shoulder. “I wish we could just stay like this forever and no one else existed. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

Alex lifts his left arm up over Jack’s shoulders. He plays with the cotton at the seam of the familiar hoodie. “That’d be great.” But they can’t, of course they can’t. And they wouldn’t even want to, not really.

“I don’t really want to,” Jack mumbles, as if he’s reading Alex’s mind. He turns his head to bury his face in Alex’s neck. When he speaks again, his voice vibrates across Alex’s skin. “I just prefer being with you to anyone else. In the world. Ever. I don’t know how you do it.”

“Do what?”

A shrug. “You know I’m not good with words like you. You just make me feel…I don’t know. Peaceful. Comfortable.”

Alex sighs. “Oh. Well, it’s probably because I love you.”

Jack makes an indecipherable sound and leans slightly away, picking his head up to look instead into Alex’s eyes. “Yeah?”

Alex smiles, wry. “Yeah.”

“Oh,” Jack says, as if it’s some big reveal, and not something Alex tells Jack every single fucking day. “In that case, don’t stop.”

Alex rolls his eyes and reaches up to cradle Jack’s face in his hand. “You say that like I’ve ever stopped loving you in the, like, eighteen years I’ve known you.”

The corners of Jack’s mouth tug upward. “There must have been once. I was a shithead in high school.”

“So was I,” Alex points out. “Well, I was a shithead well into my twenties.”

“Sorry, Jack,” Alex says. “I loved you then, I love you now, I’ll love you forever.”

“Big talker all of a sudden,” Jack murmurs, and Alex smiles.

“It’s an easy promise to make,” he hums, and it feels far too easy to close the gap between them, closing his eyes and kissing Jack softly, fingertips tilting Jack’s face the slightest bit. It’s hard to remember, in this moment, if they’ve never kissed before or if they’ve kissed a thousand times; Alex suspects that no matter how many times they do it, it’ll always feel like the first.

His eyes flutter open as they break apart. Jack’s stay closed; he drops his forehead onto Alex’s shoulder, and Alex presses a kiss into his hair. “Thank you,” Jack whispers. “I think I’m okay now.”

“Good,” Alex says. “You want to finish the tea and go to sleep?”

“Long as you don’t send me home,” Jack says, yawning. 

Alex shakes his head in disbelief. He can’t say it, because it’s too cheesy for words, and Jack would rightfully make fun of him for it, but there’s no way Alex could ever send Jack home by sending him away. Jack says he’s no good with words; if Alex is, then the word Jack is missing is home. Nothing else could keep them coming back to each other, eighteen years down the line.

“Of course I won’t,” he says instead. “What’s mine is yours. Mi casa tu casa. You know.”

“Yeah,” Jack says. “I know.” He sits up and reaches for his tea, and Alex reaches for his own; together they take a long sip, and Alex smiles, content. The warmth diffuses itself in Alex’s bloodstream — it’s finally the perfect temperature.

[whirlybirbs]

— tenderly feral, ii. 

summary: you are starting to trust daryl, but neither of you trust alexandria. pairing: daryl dixon x female!reader rating: t for violence, references to murder/assault/loss, s5 spoilers, if that matters. word count: 2.3k a/n: set mid-season 5. this is shorter, but there’s some bonding + touching, so pls enjoy daryl & boston becoming closer and closer. also, @thatdamnokie​ made a playlist for this fic and i cannot say enough good things about it. please give it a listen! 

                      ✘      previous chapter.      ✘     next chapter.      ✘

Deanna seems... nice.

All of this seems nice. Too nice.

Like a dream.

(You’re waiting for the twist; when does this dream turn into a nightmare? When does someone pull a gun, force you to your knees, and pull the trigger?)

The floorboards creak under your boots as you move through the living room, eyes drawing up the walls decorated with wallpaper and photos and curtains and... life. This home is full it, bursting at the seams with it. It smells like vanilla and laundry. Outside, the birds chirp and the sun filters in through the windows to dance on the carpet.

It feels like some sick joke.

“Do you mind if I film this?”

You swallow, lashes kissing your cheeks as you blink away your cynicism. Your head swivels, flying to find Deanna standing in the doorway. There’s a creeping feeling under your skin; it’s a mix of distrust and confusion and fear...

“Who are you?”

“I could ask the same of you,” she says softly, settling in, “So sit. And we’ll talk.”

So you do.

✘

You leave the house after an hour.

A shaky breath falls from your lips as you pull the door shut and find Daryl lingering on the porch. He turns, cigarette hanging between his fingers as you wring your own hands. Blue eyes slip along your form, eyeing your posture and expression -- worry flashes across his face like a lightning strike.

(He’d been waiting close by. Didn’t wanna leave you alone. Not with some stranger. Not in some... house. Daryl doesn’t trust this. You don’t either. He can see it on your face.)

“You okay?”

His voice is a rumble. Like thunder on a humid night.

“M’fine,” you breathe, stepping forward. The others watch the exchange from the lawn. You move to pass but slow up, letting your shoulder touch his. After a beat, your raise your chin you speak lowly, “Be nice.”

His lip quirks. Like a snarl. He flicks his cigarette off the porch and drops his head. He exhales a laugh.

He’s last to go.

“Me?” he croaks, brushing by, “M’ always nice.”

✘

“What did you do?” Deanna had asked, “Before all this?”

Your lip had twitched. You had fussed in your seat, crossing your legs and leaning forward and shaking your head. The look on your face, at that moment, was steeped in an emotion shaken and stirred with nostalgic regret. You scratched your brow as your mouth moved... but, nothing came out.

So, Deanna waited.

Your eyes traced the pattern in the rug for the hundredth time.

Then, you cleared your throat and spoke.

“I was a teacher.”

✘

Rick insists on sleeping in the same house tonight, together.

While everyone begins to hunker down, you poke around the house. It’s nice, something that would go for a million in the suburbs outside of Boston. It’s got a lotta space and good lighting and better bones.

Michonne catches you in the upstairs bedroom. She leans in the doorway, head tilting as she watches you fleet from wall to wall. When she does speak, her voice is soft. You jump.

“There’s a change of clothes in the dresser,” she says, “Should fit you... and the shower’s open.”

You blink at her. Shock draws up your brows.

“Shower?”

A nod.

“... Hot water?”

Michonne just smiles.

(The paint in the bathroom reminds you of your cousin’s house. Heron grey.)

You spend a good hour in there -- scrubbing and washing and grinning ear-to-ear for the first time since this whole thing went down. The shampoo smells like a life you lived before and when you step out into the steam of the bathroom, you can almost pretend the world is normal again. The towel is soft and the air is warm and your happily pull on the pair of jeans and sweater that Michonne had laid out.

You pad downstairs, face happy and eyes heavier.

Daryl is in the kitchen, poking around for a snack, when you wander in.

You smell like... fruit. Flowers and fruit.

He squints.

“You clean up nice.”

He means it.

You snort through your nose and snake around the counter. There’s a basket of fruit there -- so you pluck an apple from the bunch and move to lean against the marble island. Daryl, still dirty and still fussing, continues to dig through the cabinets.

“You gonna shower?” you ask after a few bites of the apple.

“Nah,” he spits, “Later.”

You roll your eyes. Daryl catches it. He drops his crossbow on the counter with a rattle and hops up, legs swinging. You move closer, crossing the kitchen to lean against the counter next to him and look out the window above the sink. In the next room, the chatter of the group washes out the silence.

You raise the apple, offering it.

The moon hangs high in the sky.

He takes it, bites, and hands it back.

“Think we’ll stay?”

“Dunno,” Daryl mumbles, “... I dunno.”

You just nod and chew your apple.

✘

“We have a school,” Deanna had explained, “And we need teachers. Our children... they’re our future.”

You fell quiet, arms wrapping around yourself as your knee bounces.

It hurts to remember your classroom -- to remember your kids, your coworkers, your school. When things got bad, FEMA rolled in and made it a shelter, but with no National Guard left for stationing and a rampant looting problem spreading through the city, things went south fast. Those children... your chest aches to think about where they are now. If... If they are... if they just are.

“I know that.”

“Will you help?” she asked, “Teach them? Math, art, science, history... anything.”

“I taught fourth grade.”

Deanna smiled at you like you were the sun, then.

And you felt sick.

✘

The living room is full.

There’s a roof over your head and food in your belly and a pillow under your head. You’re safe, as safe as you probably could be. Behind two feet thick steel walls and the four more that make up this damn Alexandria mansion. Rick and Michonne and Daryl are here. Glenn is here. Maggie, Sasha, Carol... Everyone.

Except Tyreese, except Beth.

But, you’re here. And you’re safe.

And still, you can’t sleep.

You roll, hips complaining from the position you’d taken up in the corner. The blanket around your shoulders is warm, and falls around your waist as you sit up, hair wild, and sigh.

Daryl, still perched at his spot by the window, can see the frustration written on your face from across the room.

Your eyes catch his, and he speaks softly.

“Wanna go for a walk?”

✘

You wrap your arms close around you, steps falling in line with Daryl’s as you sniffle and shiver a bit. It’s getting colder now with autumn creeping in -- it’s not as cold as Boston, though, so you suppose you’re thankful. The first winter there was miserable; the walkers froze solid, so it was safer, but with no heat and no food?

You were as good as frozen.

The sound of a pack of coyotes baying in the distance brings you back.

Alexandria is quiet -- the only lights come from the moon overhead and the candles glowing in windows here and there. The tops of the trees bleed into the horizon like ink in water. It’s peaceful, air filled with peepers and crickets and the kiss of the wind in the trees.

Daryl’s hands are shoved in his pockets.

His breath, glowing in the cold, curls around him as he speaks.

“... She give you a job?”

You’re quiet for a while after he asks. As Daryl walks, he watches your face out of the corner of his eye. You’re thinking -- your face is warped into a look he’s never seen before. It’s heavy with concentration. But not on the conversation.

Once you hit the end of the block, you shrug.

“Yeah,” you mutter, “She did.”

Daryl blinks up at the stars. Tries to play off his interest.

“Somethin’ good?”

“Somethin’ I used t’ do.”

His brow lifts. “Before all this?”

“Yeah,” you parrot with a lack of substance, “Before all this.”

His head falls. His hair is in his eyes when he stops short and looks at you.

“Why?”

Your nose scrunches.

“Why what?” You keep walking.

Daryl hops to catch up.

“Why th’ whole...” he gestures at you, “... Why’re y’ mad?”

“I’m not mad,” you mumble as you walk, shaking your head. You turn to catch his eyes. In the light of the moon, he seems more boyish than before. A little worried, a little scared. You slow down to let him catch up fully. “It’s just scary. I don’t... I don’t trust all this.”

“Yeah,” he breathes, “Neither do I.”

“That why you weren’t sleeping?”

Daryl nods. You hum.

“You?”

You laugh bitterly as you round another corner, shoulders brushing his. “I’m just... I haven’t slept in a house in... months, maybe. Not one where I didn’t have to keep an eye open, or... Or one where I knew I was... safe. But, I don’t know that. I don’t know that I’m safe. I want it to be true, but...”

“But, we don’t know.”

You cross your arms tighter and inhale as you stop, facing him fully. He takes pause, too, and rocks on his boots. As your eyes scale him, his drop. He shrinks, then, toeing the pavement.

“What did you do,” you ask then, spurred by a moment of wonder, “Before all this?”

Silence is the response. Then, he reaches and digs out a cigarette from his vest.

“Does it matter?”

His lighter clinks open, then closed. His face is illuminated by the embers of the Marlboro.

“It did,” you shake your head, eyes glimmering with exhaustion and sadness, “To them.”

“I was nobody,” he chirps, wetting his lips and shrugging. He turns on his heel. You follow, “Nobody.”

“You were somebody to someone,” you mumble, not complaining when his arm brushes yours. He’s heading back to the house, “Right?”

He dodges the question, fast and hard. “What about you, huh? Before shit went down, what’d y’ do?”

“Fourth grade.”

“What?” he squints.

“I taught,” you laugh a little, dry and sad, “I taught fourth grade.”

Daryl slows up, for a second, and lets his face soften. He can see it now -- you, showered and in fresh clothes and looking happier. He could see you, wrangling in a bunch a’ screaming kids. Teachin’ math, or arts ‘n’ crafts. He can see you being not-so-feral. Reading along, recess duty, and PTA meetings.

You note the expression on his face. Yours warps into one of sheepishness.

“What?”

“Nothin’,” he chirps quietly, taking a drag of his cigarette, “I can see it, s’all.”

“You can see it?” you jab, knocking his arm, “What’s that mean?”

Daryl just shrugs. And you let the ghost of a smile play on your lips.

As he makes his way up the steps, you linger. He takes note and leans against the porch beam.

“Y’know,” he rasps, “This is th’ most you’ve ever talked, but you ain’t sayin’ much.”

You guess he’s right.

So, you follow him inside.

✘

“Your friend outside... Daryl, is it...?”

You pulled up your gaze from the carpet, a soft look flickering there. Deanna saw it. It brought a smile to her face, then, and she nodded knowingly -- her hands were knotted as she spoke.

“Is that what you are...?” she asked, “Friends...?”

You felt like you’d got cottonmouth.

“... Why don’t you ask him that?”

“Oh,” she laughed, “I will. But... I have a feeling he’s gonna give me a run for my money, isn’t he?”

“... He saved my life.”

“You owe him,” she spoke quickly, “Or... you... feel like you do?”

“Maybe.”

She hummed.

And you let that hit you like a ton of bricks.

✘

“Quit squirmin’.”

You’re tossing and turning and it’s not until you’ve accidentally elbowed Daryl twice in five minutes that he speaks up. The whisper falls on your ears with a pointed edge, weighed with the bleariness of sleep. The archer kicks his legs then, rolling to look at you from over his shoulder.

You groan, palming at your eyes as you roll flat on your back and huff.

You croak out an apology.

Daryl exhales, making a point of his sleep-driven irritation, before he rolls back over to face the wall.

He, however, does not go back to sleep. Instead, he stares at the wall and thinks.

Daryl Dixon does a lot of thinking -- might not show, but he does. He sure as hell doesn’t speak his mind, but the man works things out up top before he acts. He’s grown past firing from the hip... most of the time. Doesn’t mean he doesn't get angry or frustrated or violent. Just means he’s careful.

And right now, he’s got a lot on his mind.

Your breathing never evens out -- it’s still shallow and you’re still fussing. So, Daryl decides it’s in his best interest to do something. Y’know, so you won’t keep him up and he can get some damn sleep.

He promptly rolls flat on his back and hauls his blanket up over the two of you.

He sees your lashes dances as you blink, confusion flying across your face as you turn to eye him. He dodges your glance, eyes focused on his hands as he tucks the blanket over you and rolls to lay on his stomach. He drops his face into the pillow, ignoring the way your shoulder fits up against his ribs and how your legs touch his, and croaks out a grouchy:

“Go t’ bed.”

And that’s that.

[devilatmydoor]

love is fatal I  part 2

A/N; Part 2 of my new Cal fic! Let me know what you think! :) I hope you are all rested and safe. 

part 1 

Word Count; 4.2k

Warning; angst, drug use, swearing 

The lump in her throat became more apparent as the girl looked Veronica up and down, staring at her choice of clothes.  She felt overdressed in her black hoodie, messy bun, and black leggings versus the other girl with Cal’s shirt on. Before she could even say anything or try and walk away from the half-naked girl standing next to her, her grating voice alarmed Veronica, “Are you Luke’s new girl?” 

Luke’s new girl? Where in the hell did she get that idea? 

“No.” Veronica breathed looking at Luke’s door to see if she stared at it long enough he’d look for her. 

“You’re here late for someone who isn’t his.” She commented and Veronica looked at her watch on her arm and saw that it was barely past 11pm. The girl looked Veronica up and down for the second time and Veronica furrowed her eyebrows and squinted her eyes, confused why she was still standing next to her, “But you are wearing far too many clothes to be here for Luke.” She winked. 

Veronica had to take a deep breath before replying to her, “I don’t fucking know you.What Luke and I are doing is between him and I. Even though whatever is going on between you and Calum isn’t.” Veronica insinuated as she walked back to Luke’s room ignoring whatever the other girl was going to reply with. 

She opened the door and closed it and Luke was sitting at the edge of the bed, the pizza boxes and empty coke cans vanished from the room. She shook her head and sighed louder than she anticipated. 

He tilted his head and ran his fingers through his curls, “What took you so long darlin’?” He asked softly 

“You didn’t tell me which door was the bathroom so I overheard Calum having sex,” She gagged, “Then I ran into the girl on the way back to your room and she implied that there was something going on between you and me.” 

He softly growled in response and motioned her to the bed,  “Oh god her. No wonder he was mad you were here. Ignore whatever she said, she’s the worst.” 

She sat down next to him and softly giggled at his comment, “Her voice is definitely something.”  

“Oh god isn’t it? I honest to god don’t know how he listens to her talk.” He giggled looking in her eyes. 

“I don’t think they spend too much time talking.” She replied and pursed her lips and leaned towards him.

He almost fell on the bed laughing and she couldn’t help but laugh with him, her nervous breath turned quickly into her trying to catch her breath from laughing so much. Her stomach hurt as she continued to laugh with Luke and they both fell backward on the bed laughing. He laid on his side to face her and she took a deep breath to stop herself from getting dizzy from all the laughter. He followed suit and then giggled softly, “Luke! It wasn’t even that funny!” 

“Then why are you laughing just as much as I am?” He chuckled and he sat on his bed with his back leaning on the headboard. 

Veronica moved so her back was leaning on the headboard and she blushed, “Probably because it’s true!” 

“I can’t see her having intellectual conversations” Luke’s eyes narrowed as he smiled at her. 

“Besides the obvious reasons, why don’t you like her?” She asked as she cocked her head sideways. 

“I just don’t get a good vibe from her. Ever since Calum met her she’s been coming to our place and he’s almost never at her house. It’s just suspicious like she’s hiding something from him. If she stays overnight, which rarely happens she expects Calum to have coffee ready for her. She complains about his smoking, gets jealous of any girl who talks to him, talks about how messy the house looks if it is a mess. She acts like his girlfriend when she’s his friend with benefits.” Luke explained, grabbing the remote to his T.V

“God she sounds awful. And I thought Caleb was the worst.” She speculated and pulled her sweater sleeves to cover her hands. 

“What’s he like?” He asked as he looked in her eyes. 

“He gets jealous too, I think he doesn’t like you and I hanging out but I could care less. He usually comes to my house but it’s mostly because his roommate knows my ex and the breakup wasn’t…” She trailed off trying to think of a word that would describe the disaster that was her last relationship. 

“You don’t have to talk about it but if you ever want to I am here for you no matter what okay? I understand messy breakups, I’ve been through some emotional ones myself. I’m here for you darling, whatever you need.” He mused and smiled at her. 

She smiled at him and kissed him softly on his cheek, “Thank you Luke, I appreciate that. I’m here for you. You can always talk to me about anything. I never judge my friends, ever.” She mused

“I don’t either.” He smiled at her and they finished watching The Ritual and watched Hush, Luke comfortably laying his head on Veronica’s lap so she could massage his scalp and run her fingers through his curls.

* * * * *

The sunlight in his room peeking through the black curtains, he rolled over on his side and slowly opened his eyes and saw her laying on the other side of his bed. She rarely stayed the night, especially during the week. She told him she was going to leave after going to the bathroom but he passed out and didn’t even notice she was sleeping next to him. He laid on his back and stared at the ominous blue wall until his stomach grumbled loud enough to wake up Luke. He sat on the edge of his bed and stretched his arms while flexing his tense muscles. His back and shoulders ached from his 10-hour shifts at the shop  and 80% of his shift he was hunched over clients’. He rolled his neck and a soft groan escaped his lips. He shrugged realizing she was still asleep. He stood up and put his boxers on and stretched his back and an even louder groan escaped from his lips. He stood up straight and thought of one last idea to wake her up. He walked to his leather jacket that was hung on his chair and  went through his pockets for the white box and lighter he clung to. He took out a cigarette and ignited it as he sat on his chair and inhaled the intoxicating yet soothing nicotine. He exhaled and waited for her to smell the smoke. He inhaled his cigarette and exhaled, her body slowly waking up as her eyes shot open and her eyes met his. 

“What the fuck Cal?” She said in a chiding tone, she moved the comforter off of her body to reveal she was partially dressed. She was wearing her bralette and underwear from the previous night. 

“Good morning to you too,” He huffed as he crossed his legs and inhaled his cigarette staring at her. 

“I told you I don’t like when you smoke.” She scoffed and sat up in his bed and leaned against the headboard and covered her nose further disapproving of him.

He exhaled his cigarette and rolled his eyes as he clenched his jaw, “I told you to leave.” He growled and stood up from his chair and ran his fingers through his messy hair. 

“You didn’t even notice I was sleeping in your bed.” She sighed as she slowly climbed off his bed. 

“I was exhausted, I trusted you to leave as we agreed. All you had to do was put your dress and shoes on, drive home which is hardly even a drive.” He shook his head in disbelief. 

“Did you think maybe I was exhausted too?” She walked towards him, her arms crossed as she narrowed her eyes at him. 

“From what? You don’t work 40 hour weeks.” He spat as he walked away from her and looked through his closet for clean clothes. 

“This is why we don’t talk, you think you know everything.” She muttered and he sharply turned around to look at her. 

“It’s mostly cuz you’re a snobby bitch who gets whatever she wants.” He growled and bit his bottom lip glaring at her. 

“Fuck you Calum.” She spat and walked away from him to grab her clothes from the floor. 

“You already did, multiple times.” He winked and turned around and grabbed his clothes for the day and looked at her as she put her dress on, “I’m gonna shower, you know the way out.” He spat as he opened the door and walked down the hall to the bathroom. He stepped inside the bathroom and closed the door behind him, louder than normal, and groaned in response. He turned on the shower to the hottest setting and slipped off his boxers and didn’t even bother to comb his hair. He stepped in the shower as steam surrounded him as he let the scalding water hit his back sighing in relief from the pain. He grabbed his shampoo and worked it into his curls as he enjoyed the water hitting his back in the perfect way. He rinsed the soap out of his hair while closing his eyes. He did the same treatment with his deep conditioner and let it sit in his hair as he lathered his favorite body wash on his body. He rinsed his hair and body off and turned off the shower. He grabbed a towel and dried off. His hair a complete mess from the shower and he put on his socks, then his black pants and his white tank top. He put on deodorant and put on his favorite cologne. He put his short sleeve top on buttoned his shirt from bottom to top. He combed his hair and opened the door and stepped out of the steam-filled room and walked down the hallway to his room to grab his phone from his nightstand, he sighed in relief when there was no sign of her. 

He walked down the hall toward the kitchen and he could smell coffee as he got closer to the island by the sink. He sat down on the chair and sighed as he  looked at Luke who was pouring two cups of coffee, “Thanks for making coffee, I’m gonna need it.” He thanked as he waited for Luke. 

“She left about 5 minutes ago, she didn’t even ask for coffee this time. You must’ve pissed her off.” Luke turned around to face Calum as he handed Calum his cup of coffee. 

“She slept over mate. She never does.” He looked at Luke and got off the chair to walk to the fridge to grab the milk. 

“Josslyn didn’t even say goodbye to me, She always does if she sees me,” Luke explained as he drank his coffee and leaned against the kitchen counter. 

“Why are you complaining? You hate her.” Calum expressed as he poured milk into his coffee mug and walked back to his chair as he thought about what he was going to eat for breakfast. 

“I’m not, just confused. She talked to Ronnie last night.” Luke remarked as he widened his eyes and shook his head. 

What the fuck? She never said mention talking to Veronica. 

He rubbed his temples and took a deep breath, “You two were obnoxious last night. You’re laughing fit ruined the mood.” He commented. 

“Abrupt change in subject, at least your acting normal.”  ” Luke raised an eyebrow and shook his head and opened the refrigerator to grab the milk, reached for his Cereal and grabbed a bowl and spoon. “You could’ve told me Josslyn was coming.” 

“You could’ve told me Veronica was coming but here we are.” He added before he grabbed his favorite cereal, grabbed a bowl and poured the milk first and then the cereal and grabbed a spoon. He checked his phone before plugging it in, “Where is Duke?” 

“Outside.” Luke answered as he finished drinking his milk and walked to the sliding door leading outside, “Duke!” 

He looked outside to see Duke running inside and he stretched his arms down to pick him up as he ran up to him, “Hey buddy! Pops missed you!” 

Luke put his  mug in the sink before grabbing his cereal and walked into the living room to turn the T.V on. He held Duke as he finished his breakfast barely paying attention to whatever Luke was watching on the T.V. He set Duke down as he put his shoes on and walked to his room to grab his leather jacket and his keys. “Do you need anything while I’m out?” 

“I was gonna go grocery shopping for us before I came in today. Just text me a list of what you want.” Luke looked up at Calum and smiled. 

“That would be perfect, thank you. I’ll see you later.” He smiled and bent down to pet Duke before leaving for work. He put his helmet on and started his motorcycle. His pride and joy, besides Duke. He saved up for 2 years to get a Harley Davidson and he used it as much as he could. He took advantage of the perfect weather, the sunshine and wind hitting his skin in the best way. As he got to work, he parked in the parking lot and grabbed the keys and took his helmet off and carried in his hand as he walked towards the shop. He grabbed his keys and unlocked the back door and opened it. He smiled when he saw his two best friends simultaneously work with him. 

“Morning Ash and Michael, how’s your morning?” He asked as he walked towards them. 

“Good, you and I are going to look through supplies and see what we need. Micheal is going to go through appointments and make sure we have enough supplies for the next two weeks. I think we should.” Ashton remarked as he put his hands in his pockets. 

“I think we’ll be okay, we usually don’t run out. I’ll be in my office if you need anything.” Michael smiled as he walked away to his office. 

“Should we go to the stockroom?” Ashton suggested and Calum nodded in agreement. They walked towards the stock room and he overheard his other coworkers coming in. He followed Ashton as he opened the door and led him to all of their supplies. Ashton went through all of the instruments and needles while Calum looked through ink. “We probably should’ve brought paper with us to write down what we needed.” He mentioned 

“That would’ve been smart huh?” Ashton remarked as he giggled and looked around for something to write on. 

“I’ll go to my office and get one.” He mentioned as he looked at Ashton and shrugged. He walked through the doorway and saw Grayson walking into the front door. 

“Good morning Calum!” Grayson greeted as he smiled. 

“Morning! Did you bring your laptop so we could go through your artwork?” He asked and without hesitation Grayson showed him his backpack. 

“I almost forgot, Veronica came home super late this morning,” Grayson said sleepily before yawning. 

“She was with Luke at my place, he has no concept of time I swear.” He chuckled before walking with Grayson towards his office. 

“Oh my god, neither does V. Drives me insane,” Grayson explained as he followed Calum.

“Trust me, I understand. I’m going through supplies Ashton, get comfortable and I will make sure that I am here before 11.” He addressed before grabbing a legal pad and pens from his desk, “If you need anything don’t hesitate to check in with me or Michael.” 

“Thank you! I will.” Grayson said as he sat down on the chair across from Calum’s desk and situated himself. 

He walked back to the supply room where Ashton was sorting through masks and gloves, he sighed when he realized this was going to take longer than anticipated. He sorted through the aftercare supplies and wrote down which ointment they needed more of, which soap they had in stock, and how many boxes of alcohol prep pads they had. Ashton wrote down how many disposable razors, cartridge grips, and gauze they had in stock. After they finished sorting everything and realizing they needed to find a day where they had no appointments or other obligations to come in and thoroughly go through everything. Ashton brought the list of numbers to Michael as he walked back to his office and saw Grayson going through his work. He sat at his desk and looked through Grayson’s favorite artwork as Grayson showed him the wolf tattoo that he drew for Veronica and the rose tattoo he’s perfecting. He decided to order Grayson and him Lunch since it was almost 2pm and they both needed to eat. Ashton and Michael came in to look at Grayson’s art and Ashton invited Grayson to help with an appointment after their lunch. 

He looked through his own drawings and his calligraphy and fonts and what needed to be updated on the website. Michael came in to go through the website with him and make sure they added Grayson, Michael showed him the schedule of appointments and what shift’s he’d work with Grayson to finish his training. After Micheal left, he attempted to focus on his drawing but the noise coming from the tattoo needles mixed with miscellaneous conversations and the background music became too distracting. He grabbed his cigarette pack, sunglasses, and lighter before he stepped out of his office while his eyes fixed on the front door. He weaved through customers and coworkers as he opened the front door and felt the warm sun hitting his skin. He quickly put his sunglasses on and lit his cigarette and inhaled instantly. He leaned against the window and looked at the busy traffic on the street and the sidewalk. He finished his cigarette and threw it in the trash before opening the door and took off his sunglasses to see Luke talking to Ashton at the front desk. He made eye contact with both of them and they motioned him to come over. He walked over to them while trying to avoid bumping into anyone. 

* * *

As she walked her thighs started to chafe and she regretted wearing jean shorts. Her least favorite season became more evident as the sun was out longer and humidity became more unbearable. As she saw the newly familiar area, she opened the door and sighed happily when she felt the cool air hit her skin. She took off her sunglasses and realized Grayson was nowhere in sight and Luke wasn’t at the desk. She walked over to the body jewelry and looked at the barbells again. Her eyes glued to the hot pink one that stood out surrounded by various blacks and silvers. She couldn’t keep her eyes off of it if she wanted to. She was brought back to reality when she heard an unfamiliar voice ask her if she needed help. She turned around to see a muscular man wearing a black and white striped short sleeve shirt and black pants with black hair. His hazel-greenish eyes met hers, “Hi! Sorry, I zoned out. I was admiring all of the beautiful body jewelry. ” She giggled, embarrassed by her complete lack of focus. 

“Don’t worry about that, I would be too if I was interested in getting a piercing. I can tell this isn’t your first time in a tattoo shop?” He asked and smiled at her. 

She giggled at his comment. “Oh no this isn’t my first tattoo shop and won’t be my last. I have more tattoos than piercings, obviously.” 

“Same here,” He winked and stepped closer to her and leaned over the glass case showing all of the body jewelry, “I noticed you have that wolf thigh tattoo. If I’m not mistaken you are Veronica. A new tattoo artist named Grayson showed me that EXACT tattoo the other day, unless he tattooed it on someone else and I am a fool.” He blushed as he looked away. 

She looked down at the tattoo that was on display, “You are not a fool, Grayson is my best friend. I came to pick him up and give him some good news.” She looked at him and smiled. 

He giggled and pretended to wipe the sweat off his forehead, “Oh thank god, I’m Ashton. It’s nice to put a face to your name.” 

She smiled and heard Grayson in the distance, “It’s nice to meet you Ashton. Luke mentioned you designed this place. It’s amazing.”

“Thank you doll, Calum and I both worked on it. Our artistic director gave us ideas for the overall anesthetic and we had fun.” He smiled as he stood up straight and put his hands in his pockets.

“It’s beautiful. Red and black are my favorite colors together.” She mused as she looked to see Grayson, Luke, and another person she hasn't met. He was blonde, the same height as Grayson and had black-rimmed glasses, his style similar to Graysons. 

“They work really well together, the contrast is beautiful.” He smiled and looked over to see his coworkers. 

“Almost every color looks amazing paired with black.” She mused as she waved at Grayson who waved and motioned her closer. She looked at Ashton and smiled, “I should go. It was nice talking to you Ashton.” 

“Nice talking to you, have a good rest of your day.” Ashton smiled as she walked away towards Grayson. She smiled as she saw him giving her one of many looks she had memorized.

“What?” She shrugged and giggled at his facial expression as she walked up to the front desk where Luke was conversing with the other guy and Grayson walked toward her. 

“What were you looking at?” Grayson asked as he put his phone in his pocket. 

She knew she couldn’t tell him what she was really looking at, “Nose rings. I’ve had a stud for my nose piercing for ages.” She fretted as she ran her fingers through her hair and fidgeted with her rings. 

“Oh yeah? That would be interesting.” Grayson mentioned as he waited for the other guy to leave and Luke leaned over the desk. 

“How was work darlin?” Luke asked as he smiled at Veronica. Calum slowly walked over to the front desk after he spoke to the other guy she didn’t recognize. 

“It was weird, I’m actually transferring to a new animal hospital. The assistant manager is having her baby soon and they need a new Vet Tech.” She smiled nervously for Grayson and Luke’s reaction. 

“No way! That’s great, where is the new hospital??” Grayson asked as she saw Calum walking towards the desk. 

“I’m not sure, I know it’s called Angel City.” She answered as Calum walked up to them. 

“Angel City, that sounds familiar,” Luke mentioned as he looked at Calum who was furring his eyebrows as he entered the conversation late. 

“Angel City, the animal hospital? It’s not too far from here. That's where I take Duke.” Calum clarified he made eye contact with Veronica and he looked at Luke and Grayson. 

“Duke?” She asked, remembering when she was at their house she didn’t see or hear an animal. 

“He’s my dog. He was in my room when you were at our house. What about Angel City?” Calum asked as he furrowed his eyebrows at her. 

“I’m transferring there, I start next week.” She explained as she grabbed her car keys. 

“Damn! That’s fast.” Grayson expressed as his eyes widened. 

“At least the clinic is closer, that way we can see you more!” Luke said excitingly followed by a familiar groan from Calum. 

* * * * 

After his three tattoo appointments back to back and his previous piercing appointment, he was ready for a break. He had 2 hours left of his shift and he didn’t have any other appointments. He walked towards his office and closed the door behind him. He went to his seat and got comfortable as he got out a legal pad and wrote down a list of things he and Ashton had to finish on Sunday. He and Ashton didn’t have appointments so they could come in at any time and work on organizing the storage room. Thankfully they had enough supplies for the next two weeks but Micheal wanted them to make sure they were fully stocked for upcoming appointments.

He heard a knock at the door and thought he was hearing things. People almost never knocked at his door, they usually just walked right in without even bothering. The second knock louder than the first, that’s when he knew he wasn’t imagining things. He stood up from his chair and walked away from his desk. He slowly opened the door to see her. He had no idea she even knew where his office was in the first place. Dressed in shorts paired with fishnets, a vintage tank top, and black converse. Her jet black hair with her pale skin. Her eyes met his as she bit her bottom lip. 

“Calum?” She said softly as she looked at him, he’d never seen her like this. Then again he only knew her for 2 weeks. 

“Veronica, Grayson isn’t here.” He clarified as he cleared his throat, confused why she’d be here on Graysons day off. 

“I know, That’s why I’m here.” She implied as she crossed her arms. 

t a g l i s t : @pxrxmoore​ @lukesflaredpants​ @sublimehood​ @talkfastromance4​ @lilacsos​ @ghostoflrh​ @calumscalm​ @mellifluoushood​ @calumthomcs​ @twilightmomentswithyou​ @malumsdildo​ @boytoynamedcalum​ @ohhmuke​ @calswildflower​ @highscal​ @sanrioluke​ @softlrh​ @flowers-on-the-graves​ @currentlyupcalsass​ @clemmings​ @tirednotflirting​ @highfivecalum​ @wastelandcth

[dvoz-alternate]

Run to You pt. 1

werewolf!Joshua x reader

Warnings: fluff, language

AN: OC used in fic only appears a few times, (-----) time lapses and pov changes, italics are thoughts/bonded communication

Summary: Graduating from college you moved to a small forest locked town. You aren’t sure why you decide to come here all you know is that you felt pulled to this place. You have heard rumors about the forest, but your need for adventure carries you deeper. 

----------

Unloading the last box from the moving van you walked into your house. You were glad that your close neighbor lived down the road from you giving you privacy in your new area. Setting the box on the table you absentmindedly wiped your hands on your pants. Looking around your box filled living room you sighed before grabbing your wallet and keys and leaving the house. “Get groceries and then I will finally go explorer if it stays light out,” you mumbled to yourself as you turned the key in the drivers side door of your pickup. Twisting the key in the ignition you drove off the gravel drive way heading towards town. 

----------

Stepping into the small market you grabbed a basket before checking down the aisles for food and things that might sound good. Stepping into the drink aisle you looked for your tea brand trying to decide what flavor you wanted to get. Your thumb rested in front of your mouth as you contemplated between a green tea or black tea with lemon, oblivious to the stranger that entered the aisle. 

“Personally I am a fan of the green tea,” a rough voice right over your shoulder. Stiffening you glanced out of the corner of your eye seeing a relatively tall man grinning down at you. Sliding a little a way from the man you took in his figure; he was lean, pretty attractive and had sharp, dark eyes. The way that this man was eyeing you made you feel like a rabbit, like prey. Coughing you looked away from him and back to the tea grabbing the black tea and throwing it in your basket. All you wanted to do was get away from the man who gave off strange vibes. 

The man noted the way that you avoided his opinion, but that didn’t sway him from trying to pursue you. Placing a firm hand on your shoulder he stopped you. “My name is Kitae, can I learn the pretty ladies?” he raised a thin eyebrow at you. Eyes widened slightly at his comment, but you nod slowly hoping that if you gave an answer that he would leave you alone. “It’s (Y/N)...” you told him shrugging you shoulder successfully making him remove his hand. When you glanced back up at Kitae’s face you shrunk back slightly at the smirk on his face. “Well, (Y/N) it was nice meeting you. I hope to see you around sometime,” Kitae called over his shoulder as he left the aisle. Your eyes followed him until he turned the corner. You didn’t understand the smirk he gave you, but you were just glad he left you alone. Shaking your head you continued your shopping. 

----------

Kitae wore his smug grin on his face until he left the store. He potentially found a play toy for the time being.

----------

Walking out of the store you breathed out a sigh as you dug in your pants pocket for your keys. You didn’t understand why you felt so uncomfortable. Opening your truck door you put your groceries in before sliding in and closing the door. Leaning your head against the head rest you closed your eyes only to open them when you felt eyes on you. Lifting your head you looked out the windshield to see a group of guys walking across the street. A man with sandy-blonde hair was staring right at you with dark, cat-like eyes. Blinking a few times you felt your heart flutter and quickly stuck your key in the ignition. What the hell is going on? you thought pulling out of the parking lot and heading to your house. 

----------

Setting your groceries on the table you rubbed your face before you started putting them away. “Maybe I won’t go out today...” you mumbled as you put a few boxes off instant noodles in the cupboard. Once that was finished you pulled out your teas that you bought onto the counter top. “Which box is the kettle in?” you shuffled over to the mass of cardboard that was your living room and started looking.

----------

Hearing the kettle whistle you pulled it off the burner and filling your mug with the steaming water. Dropping the tea packet into the water you watched it slowly diffuse before moving to sit at the cluttered table. Looking at the dark colored liquid in front of you you sucked in a breath as your thoughts took you to the man you made eye contact with. “Sheesh... Okay. Maybe it’s all of the moving but I think I just need to go lie down now...” you stood from your chair dumping out the rest of your tea before heading to your room.

----------

Standing frozen on the side walk Joshua couldn’t tear his eyes away from the spot where you once were. “-ua, -shua, Joshua!” Jeonghan was snapping his fingers in front of an open-mouthed and dazed Joshua. “Hey are you with us?” Seungcheol waved a hand in front of Josh’s face which he swatted away. “What? Oh, ugh yeah I-I’m fine,” he muttered looking in the direction your truck took off in. “You are definitely not fine, we’ve been trying to get your attention for three minutes,” Jihoon muttered looking at his phone. Eyes widening slightly at the news he looked at the shorter pack member. Not knowing how to respond he just nodded his head before they headed back for their cabin.

----------

Alarm blaring in your ear you groaned rolling over and successfully smacking your clock off your nightstand. “Damn it...” you mumbled before sitting up stretching your arms above your head. Feeling the satisfying pop of your shoulders sliding back into place you sighed in content before picking up your clock. Still sleepy you shuffled into the bathroom and flicked on the light. Looking into the mirror you grunted at the sight of your bed head before pulling the ponytail off your wrist throwing the rat nest you called hair into a bun. 

Patting your face dry you looked in the mirror and your mind decided to remind you of the striking eyes of the handsome stranger. Groaning you dropped the hand towel into the sink basin before exiting. Placing your hands on your hips you glared at the multiple boxes that covered the floor and kitchen table. Finally spotting three boxes labeled ‘clothes’ you moved over and pulled out a sweatshirt, shirt and pants from them before changing. 

----------

Not feeling super hungry you grabbed your hiking boots and slid out the back door. Breathing in deeply you could already smell the pine in the early morning. Quickly lacing up your shoes you looked into the tree line. A tingly feeling at the base of your head making you anxious to finally get going. You couldn’t place your finger on it, but you felt drawn to move into the woods. Making sure your phone was in your back pocket you started your little adventure.

Inhaling deeply your nose filled with the smell of pine. You weren’t really sure where you wanted to go or what your were expecting, but you were okay with that. As you walked through the changing scenery you listened to the various animal noises, like squirrels jumping from trees or the occasional wood pecker. Your footsteps were muffled by the leaves the littered the forest floor and pretty soon you found yourself in front of a large river. Slightly disappointed that this might be as far as you could go you looked around. Slightly farther up the river was a large tree that had fallen over the river creating a bridge. Jogging to it you examine the upturned roots briefly. Placing your foot on a large root you pulled your self up onto the trunk before slowly making your way across with arms held out slightly to your sides. 

----------

Joshua crossed his arms across his bare chest as he waited for the other to come outside. For whatever reason he couldn’t get you out of his mind, even if he saw you for the briefest moment he still wanted to know if he was right about his thoughts. Lost in his thoughts he didn’t hear Jeonghan walk up beside him. “Josh. Stop twitching,” his white haired pack mate grumbled placing a hand on his shoulder. Surprised that he didn’t hear his friend walk up behind him he glanced at him before down at his index that was frantically tapping on his bicep. Dropping his arms he turned to his friend. “So are you going to tell me what’s going on with you or are you going to make me play 20 questions?” Jeonghan asked leaning against the patio table. Running a hand through his hair Josh breathed out looking away from his friend slightly frustrated, “I wish I could tell you, but even I don’t know yet.” This surprised Jeonghan but all he did was nod in response. 

Hearing voices come from inside they both turned to look at the door seeing the other eleven members file outside. Seungcheol in the back making sure everyone was together. “Alright lets get this run started,” Seungcheol said as he eyed the younger wolves in front of him. Stripping down they set their clothes on the porch before stepping into the clearing. Joshua felt the usual popping and elongating of limbs before falling on all four. 

Falling into his position in the formation they broke the tree line setting a quick pace toward the river that was the boarder for their territory. As they got closer to the river they heard the sound of footsteps, they were quiet and weren’t in a rush. Slow down. came Seungchoel’s call from the back of the group. They all slowed to a stop before the river and spread out slowly taking cover only to see a person on the other side.

Joshua realized that it was the female he saw the day before. He couldn’t stop the whine that left his throat as he saw you climb up the tree bridge. Vernon shot him a gaze that had two meanings: what the heck? and dude shut up. Growling a little at the younger wolf his amber eyes flicked back up to you making your way across the tree bridge to this side of the bank. And that’s when it hit him, the smell of peaches and vanilla filled the air when he saw you drop to river bank oblivious to the wolves that watched your every move. Unconsciously Joshua rose from his spot in an attempt to follow you, but a low growl from Seungcheol froze him to his spot. His eyes flicked between his alpha and you, watching as you disappeared from his view, whining as you disappeared. 

The pack started rising from their crouched places when they heard your footsteps get farther away. We will continue to perimeter check later. For now we are going to follow the girl and see what she is doing. Spread out, but stay out of her line of sight. Seungcheol took lead and started moving in behind you slowly and everyone followed his lead.

----------

Hopping off the tree you landed on the rocky bank of the river. Turning you looked where you came from before scanning the area in front of you. Not seeing anything super interesting you continued moving forward seeing what interesting thing you could find. 

Noticing that the trees were thinning in front of you you picked up your pace a little bit to see what was lying on the other side. Raising your hand above your eyes you shielded yourself from being exposed to the bright sun as you took in your surroundings. In front of you was a small lake that was surrounded by small yellow and white flowers. The edges of your lips quirked up in a soft smile at the sight before. Watching your steps you walked to the edge of the water noticing the clarity of it. Stepping a few feet away from the edge lake you sat down in the sand and just observed. You weren’t in any rush and just wanted to admire the tranquility this little place held. 

----------

Thirteen wolves followed you before crouching low. Honestly they weren’t prepared for you to just sit on the bank and do nothing. You hadn’t moved for the last twenty minutes not even to stretch. Joshua wasn’t complaining though, there was this odd satisfied feeling about knowing you were within his line of sight. Although he still hadn’t quite figured out why he wanted to be around you so much you, but for now both him and the wolf were content listening to your even breathing from a far. They sat and watched long enough that some of the pack started getting restless. Why are we still sitting here? Wonwoo’s thoughts entered everyone’s heads. We are determining if this girl is going to be a problem or not. Hoshi’s muttered thoughts came through. I think the only problem here is that we are wasting time. Joshua could hear the irritation in Jihoon’s projection. 

As the wind changed then everything fell into place for Joshua. Peach and vanilla filled his nose, and the purr that rumbled deep in his chest startled not only him but the pack members. Josh this is not the time for whatever the heck you are feeling. Jeonghan shot him a look. No, I figured it out Han. Joshua’s amber eyes met an icy blue. What did you figure out? Jeonghan decided to whisper yell and all thoughts before that ceased to listen in. Swallowing Joshua let out a deep breath through his nose. The girl sitting on the bank there... she’s my mate. A collective ‘What!?’ was screamed in his head and Joshua had to shake his head to clear the jumble of voices. 

Deciding to take a risk Joshua slowly stood from his spot behind the bush. Not one of his pack mates tried stopping the sandy wolf as he cautiously crept toward you wanting to see how this all played out. Do you think he should have thought about this before approaching her as a wolf? Jun asked looking at Minghao who only shrugged his fluffy shoulders.

----------

Hearing something padding behind you you slowly turned your head in the direction of the noise only to choke on a breath. Stalking toward you was a wolf, no bigger than a wolf. Your eyes almost popped out of your head seeing this beast make its way toward you. You have seen the documentaries of pack hunting you know that if there is one there are many not far behind, or that one will flush while the others ambush. You wanted to run, no needed to run, but for some reason you were rooted to your spot and could only watch in terror as this large dog got closer to your seated position. Your brain was screaming to run, but that same pull at the base of your head wanted you to stay put. 

----------

Joshua sensed your distress rolling off you in waves and panicked slightly at the possibility of you running away from him. Once he made it the start of the bank he lowered himself as close to the ground as possible hoping to look less intimidating. Although the look on your face was both curious it still held traces of fear. Knowing he was going to get laughed at later he sucked it up and wagged his tail like an excited puppy dog this boy is an excited puppy dog being this close his mate. Seeing the expression on your face change to awe at his behavior he army crawled in his squatted position closer to you. He stopped scooting when he was about a foot away and looked up at you trying to convey he wasn’t going to hurt you with his best puppy dog eyes. 

----------

Staring down at this large wolf who hasn’t stopped wagging his tail made the corners of your lips tug up into a smile. “What in the world,” you breathed as you shift from your bottom to your knees so you could actually look at this gentle beast. Still cautiously, even though you were internally afraid of getting your hand bitten off, you raised your hand out with your fingers loosely curled into your palm to let the wolf smell you. 

You held your breath feeling tingly that the sandy wolf inched forward pressing it nose it your hand before nudging your hand with its snout. “I think I have officially gone insane,” you mumbled as you scooted closer to the wolf. Opening your hand you moved it toward the head and waited making eye contact before gently resting your hand near the base of one of the ears. Scratching just behind his ear you placed another one under his jaw. A happy rumble vibrated in the chest of the blonde wolf. You couldn’t stop the smile that split your face, “Was that you?” Dipping its large head in response you stopped jaw falling slack, “Di-did you just nod?” Another nod. “So you can understand me?” Another nod. “If this is what being crazy is like then I guess I can accept that,” you blew extra air out your nose as you smiled going back to resuming scratching behind the ear. There was a small growl at your comment about being crazy. “Hey if I told anybody about this do you actually think they would believe me?” you huffed placing your hands on your hips as you squinted at the wolf who seemed to be squinting back at you. 

----------

Joshua couldn’t stop the small growl when he heard you call yourself a crazy, but he couldn’t help enjoy this small encounter he was having with you. Deciding to see how far he could go he pushed himself so that he head rubbed against your neck. While doing so you fell back onto your backside in surprise but couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled up in your throat, “Okay, okay!” 

You watched as he pulled himself away to look of in the direction you came from. “There wouldn’t happen to be more of you out there right now would there?” you were a little nervous at the aspect of there being more wolves out there right now, and most wolves have a pack so. Looking back at you with deep amber eyes the wolf nodded once. “Well I don’t know if that’s terrifying or not...” you muttered pulling out your phone to check the time. Joshua looked at you in surprise at your comment, Why the heck would that be terrifying? Hearing Seungkwan’s voice made him want to face palm if he had hands, Joshua you idiot you are a giant ass wolf, if there were more that would be scary for you know a human! 

Standing up you dusted off your pants and pocketed your phone again. “Well this was a surprising encounter and I enjoyed your company, but I need to go finish unpacking,” you rubbed the wolf’s head once before starting to head back the way you came. A whine slipped from Joshua and caused you to turn around. “I don’t live that far from here. Did you want me to comeback?” you didn’t think you would actually get a response to that one. Joshua trotted up to you and gently took your sweatshirt sleeve in his teeth before leading you to a tree. Releasing your sweatshirt he looked up at you and then the tree. Raising an eyebrow at the wolf you waited. Huffing at you Joshua clawed at the bark. “You want me to meet you here?” you received a nod again. “Well, I guess I would probably come back anyway... I will be back here tomorrow morning then,” you glanced down at the wolf with a smile before starting to turn away. 

----------

Multiple eyes watched your retreating figure before slowly following it. Now they were curious about you. Thirteen lithe bodies followed you to the river and watched you cross the tree bridge. Joshua didn’t want you to just walk away without turning around, without seeing him, he wanted to see your smile again already. Howling he ran to the bank and watched you turn around. He looked behind him and noticed that the pack was slowly emerging from the shadows to watch you, but also so you could see them. Turning his head back around he saw a smile that reached your eyes as you gave a single wave before turning around.

Dude, your whipped and you’ve only met her a few minutes ago, Seokmin joked from behind him. Joshua’s amber eyes darkened slightly at the jab as he replied, I’m supposed to love her for life that’s what mates do. Seungcheol stepped forward and Joshua could see the teasing light in his red eyes, Who knew you could be that cute when you wanted to Josh? Huffing Joshua looked away For her anything.

----------

Letting a hand rest on top of your head you hummed lost in thought about what just happened. I probably am going crazy. There’s no way that was a wolf... Maybe they are giving dogs steroids these days? You stopped walking as that thought crossed your mind. Yeah, nope that’s not it. It looked like a wolf but it was way too human, and there was more of them! Dropping your hand from your head you looked behind you. Why did I let a wolf get that close to me?

Seeing your house come into view you sighed knowing what was on the other side of the door. Entering through the backdoor you sighed looking at what the rest of your day would consist of, unpacking. 

----------

As the boys entered the familiar clearing behind their cabin they shifted back. Thirteen naked men stood in front of each other contemplating the days events. “So, this girl?” Minghao asked deciding to poke the elephant in the room. “Is my mate,” Joshua confirmed looking at the dark haired male who nodded. “And she only knows you as a wolf,” Hansol said crossing his arms over his chest as he turned his head towards him. “She only knows me as a wolf for now,” Joshua was determined to have a positive outlook on the situation. Jihoon stepped towards the porch to pull on his sweats but called over his shoulder, “and you don’t know her name.” “And I don’t kno- Wait! I don’t even know her name!?” Joshua’s hands went to his hair and tugged slightly as he looked over at Jeonghan and Seungcheol. 

The two Josh looked at shared a look before looking at the distraught wolf. “Well, she did say she lived near the river,” Jeonghan started. “And she mentioned unpacking. She might have just moved here since we haven’t seen her before?” Seungcheol mused hoping to ease his friend’s mind. “You’re right. I can probably find her in town at some point it’ll be fine,” Joshua mostly tried convincing himself rather than those around him. He followed last and slid on his sweatpants before heading inside. 

----------

masterlist I next

Tag-list:

@jelly-fishy-babie

[jungxk]

just one (v)

notes: the only guy on campus who’s track record trumped that of your best friend’s - park jimin - was jeon jungkook. not that that was a problem…until he set his sights on you.

warnings: smut (nothing too crazy yet just missionary and mentions of cum, protected sex, grinding), bad habits (mentions of drinking, smoking etc)

genre: humour, drama, romance, college!au

wordcount: 6.5k

part i // part ii // part iii // part iv // part v // part vi // part vii // part viii // part ix // part x 

you are not a morning person. never have been, probably never will be. you could probably count on three fingers the people you'd willingly wake up before seven for, and unfortunately jimin happened to be one of them. something was up, he didn't say anything but you could feel it like a spider-sense; jimin was off recently. his replies to your texts too slow, his tone too vague. didn't sigh your name over the phone when you called to talk to him about the dream you just had at stupid o clock. it was such a tiny change but to you it felt like a planetary shift because you know him. in a world of uncertainties, jimin was the only constant, the only thing you could depend on. so you were going to figure out what was wrong.

which is why you let yourself into his place, taking up your designated seat behind the kitchen counter while you wait for him to wake up. you'd barge into his room yourself but prior experience taught you that you should refrain from doing so in case he had any...guests over. so you wait as patiently as a frothy cup of coffee can allow, almost throwing yourself out of the stool in delight when you finally hear taehyung pad down the hallway.

"tae!" you shout the second the boy walks in, making him jump back against the door frame in shock.

"fuck!" he stutters, laying a palm over his chest to ease his pulse. his hair is sticking up cutely in all directions, and from the look of the dried drool on his chin and lack of pants, you can only guess tae came downstairs for a glass of water and a quick piss before heading back to bed. "are you trying to kill me or what?!"

"sorry," you wince, appeasing him by pouring a cup of coffee; extra strong with lots of milk, just how tae likes it. he takes the mug thankfully, downing a few good gulps while you wait with wriggling hips. "sometimes i forget i don't live here anymore."

"you're telling me," he mutters from behind the rim. his eyes are still half closed with sleep, tee all rumpled when he slides a hand under it to scratch his belly. "you know we still keep tampons in the bathroom? the number of times one of my lays has taken it to mean we're something serious, ugh."

"really? that's so sweet!" you pinch his cheeks, totally ignoring the disdain in his voice, but taehyung is too tired to pry your hands away from his face anyway. "but listen, the reason why i barged in at this time is because-"

"jimin's not here," taehyung cuts off between his smushed cheeks. "he left for the gym at like, the ass crack of dawn or something."

you visibly deflate. "since when does he ever go to the gym this early?"

"since now i guess," he shrugs, feeling a wave of sympathy for you when you sigh in disappointment, arms falling limply by your sides. jimin had clearly been avoiding you. the fact that you came all this way just to see him only to be let down again made taehyung want to wrap you up in his arms upon instinct, tucking away the residual anger he had towards his flatmate for later. "hey, don't make that face. last night he said he's staying late at the library today, hopefully you can catch him there?"

"hopefully," you grumble into his chest. you're so tired and tae's t-shirt is so soft, his body so warm you almost drift off while standing up if the whole jimin situation wasn't sounding like an alarm in the back of your head. "i haven't seen him in like, a week tae. that's the same as a century for us! i wonder what's got him so hung up...did one of his dates go badly or something?"

"don't think so," taehyung yawns. "sounded awful busy with some chick last night. if he's upset over a girl he's definitely started moving on already," he says, the look of defeat returning on your face again. "he's just busy," he assures, not even managing to sound like he believes it himself but at this point taehyung would do anything to get rid of those puppy eyes of yours. "you know what it's like at the end of the semester. i bet you'll catch him in the library tonight and everything will be fine."

"yeah, okay," you pout, smushing your head into taehyung's chest.

x

x

x

"was he there?" seulgi calls before you even have both feet through the front door. she gets her answer soon enough when you drag yourself to the sitting room, flopping into the empty space next to her on the couch in defeat. she runs her fingers through your tangled hair with an apologetic pout. "i'm sure he's just busy, babe."

"he went to the gym," you say, voice muffled into the cushions but she can still hear your annoyance. "i woke up at dawn for that prick. if i don't grab him in the library later i'm gonna camp out on his fucking couch, watch me. he can't run forever!"

"i mean this is jimin we're talking about," jisoo calls from the kitchen island, already half way done making hot drinks for the three of you. "boys like him would run to the ends of the earth before facing up to their bullshit."

seulgi shakes her head in disgust while she keeps petting you. "men."

"how have you two never had a fight before anyway?" jisoo asks when she comes over to join you, handing you your drink. you sit up to cup it gratefully, closing your eyes while you inhale the sweetness of the steam. god you were so fucking tired. "you've known each other for like, years. and you're telling me he's never hit you with one of his hissy fits before?"

you think about it for a second. "no, actually. if we ever do disagree we just say it up front like an old married couple with too many kids. remember that time i bought that cute faux-fur parka and jimin told me i looked like a game of thrones character?"

"i mean he wasn't wrong but you don't say that," seulgi says.

jisoo peers upwards thoughtfully. "which one though? if it's ned then fine but sansa's cute-"

"i'm saying jimin doesn't do this," you stress, drawing back the girls' attention. "we don't keep shit from each other. he's usually the one telling me why he's avoiding someone else!" you drum your fingers on the mug nervously. "which means that something is seriously wrong. like, not-only-is-he-avoiding-me-but-he's-avoiding-his-feelings wrong."

seulgi snorts. "when has jimin ever processed his feelings like a normal person? there's a reason why he's fucked his way through campus."

"exactly. whatever it is, i'm sure it has nothing to do with you," jisoo sips her drink. "maybe he got crabs again and he's embarrassed to tell you."

you shoot her a flat look. "are you kidding? did you forget who went to the sex clinic with him?"

jisoo can't help spluttering a laugh. "oh yeah!"

"speaking of crabs," seulgi paws your thigh excitedly. "are you going to jungkook's today?"

in an instant you feel your cheeks heat up but you just shrug casually. "i mean, i have a late class and some time to kill before jimin hunting, so...probably, yeah."

"of course she is," jisoo wiggles her eyebrows so you squirm beside her. "she's been to his place every night this week!"

seulgi claps her hands to her cheeks, her smile so wide it splits her face. "i still can't believe you're fucking jeon jungkook!"

you try to laugh it off but you can't stop the pounding of your heart in your chest. even the mention of jungkook's name has your hands a little clammy, your belly tightening in anticipation. you were waiting for yourself to get tired of seeing him every night, but the opposite was happening - it became the highlight of your day, the reason for the extra glow in your smile. jungkook held up to the rumours; you couldn't help but admit he left little to be desired in the bedroom if anything at all.

"look, you're blushing again!" jisoo squeals, pinching your cheeks.

"of course she is! i would be too if i was jungkook's latest squeeze!"

"latest," you remind them both, but you're unable to force the smile from your face. "definitely not his last."

"like that matters!" jisoo grins back at you. "just enjoy the ride, babe. literally."

"you're awful."

x

x

x

"___ was here this morning," taehyung says when jimin finally arrives home. "she was looking for you."

"oh?" he turns to taehyung, who's got his arms crossed. he doesn't look happy at all, and jimin all but rolls his eyes at him. tae could get so serious sometimes and it was usually for nothing. "i'll call her after class."

"she wants to see you," taehyung says, his tone gentle but firm. jimin doesn't answer. "come on, jimin-ah. it's not fair on ___. you can't avoid her forever."

jimin busies himself with emptying his gym bag, throwing dirty sweatshirts around the room. "i'm not avoiding her."

now taehyung is the one rolling his eyes. "seriously?"

"what?"

"i've seen you trek to that girl's house when you had a raging fever and a report due the next day!" he closes the door behind him when he finally enters jimin's room so he can't ignore him, setting down on the end of his bed that's still covered in clothes. "the only reason i can think of that you wouldn't go to ___ for a problem is if the problem is her."

"stop pussy footing around tae," jimin sighs. "just tell me what you wanna say already, i don't have time for this."

taehyung braces himself a moment, turning his head to the side with his tongue in his cheek. when he finally meets jimin's eyes his gaze is steady. "if avoiding ___ is your way of punishing her for getting with jungkook, you really are an asshole."

jimin's face screws up in disgust. "the fuck? what are you-"

"you haven't seen her since the party," tae leans back, flattening his palms behind him. "aka, since she started seeing jungkook. you really want me to believe that's a coincidence? it's pretty obvious you've got your knickers in a twist over it even if you don't see it yourself. it's how you deal with stuff, jimin: you don't. fucking more girls than usual, working out early, studying late. not giving yourself time to think about what's actually bothering you."

"since when did this become a fucking intervention about my life? full offence, but you're the last one to be pointing fingers, taehyung," jimin retorts, but the boy's stare doesn't relent. jimin huffs in exasperation, going back to sorting his bag. "i'm busy. the semester's almost up, i have shit to do. why are you acting like i haven't seen ___ in a month when its literally been like, a couple days at most-"

"it's been a week! you don't even go this long without talking to your mum!"

"and what's it to you? what's the sudden interest for?" jimin finally bursts, dark eyes alight with frustration. his ashy hair falls into his eyes slightly before he flicks it away again, not liking the what the pressure taehyung was putting on him was doing to his composure. he hated appearing frazzled, taken off guard. jimin was always ready for anything even a conversation that didn't serve a purpose other than offending him a little.

"interest? jimin, you're my friend," he shakes his head. it was the reason why he and jimin usually got on so well but also why communication was an issue sometimes; they were so different from each other. even though taehyung was coming from a place of concern, jimin's gut reaction was to get defensive and that wasn't going to undo itself overnight. "i care about you. i don't like seeing you like this."

"like what?" he narrows his eyes. "what do you mean?"

"the reason why this whole thing bothers you so much. jungkook and ___," taehyung eyes jimin carefully, waits for him to catch on but he doesn't. "it's because he's you. he's just like you. and if she can fall for him and make it work in even the slightest way, it's a slap in the face to all the things you've always been too scared to pursue with her."

jimin scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief. out of all the things he was expecting to come out of taehyung's mouth, he wasn't expecting that. something so absurd, so juvenile. was it really so hard to believe that he could be close to a girl without wanting to fuck her? he doesn't know whether to feel offended or disappointed when he turns to look back at taehyung after a long minute of silence. "first of all, this is jungkook we're talking about. it's not gonna work. give it a couple weeks she's gonna be crying on that pillow behind you in no time," he pauses from turning back to his closet. "oh, and you're fucking delusional."

"am i?" taehyung presses, but jimin has already ended the conversation, his back turned to him while he kicks about more dirty laundry across the carpet. tae licks his lips, irritated. if he wanted to be difficult, two could play. "fine. we'll talk about something else."

jimin huffs. "great."

"you ever gonna tell her about hoseok?"

he freezes. it's like time has stopped for a short moment, taehyung's question bouncing around in his skull like one of those nineties windows screensavers. he doesn't know why the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck stand up, but jimin's face remains poised if only a little alarmed. "how do you even...?"

tae shrugs. "because i know you, jimin. you acted fishy every time ___ mentioned hobi, especially their breakup. i asked hyung, he told me."

upon examining taehyung's disapproving expression, fury bubbles up in his chest again. the fuck was he to go prying in places he shouldn't, trying to dictate what was right and wrong when he wasn't as close to you as jimin was? he can't keep the anger out of his voice or face this time, fists clenched while he grips a vest just give himself something to do. "you ever gonna mind your own business taehyung? like literally, ever?"

"you're being a dick and you know it." it's not sharp or with the intent of riling him up anymore. the statement is quiet. a fact.

it's the exact reason why jimin leaves without another word.

x

x

x

to put it bluntly, jungkook was waiting to get sick of you.

it should be any time now since his flings don't last long, but then he gets a taste of your pussy again, watches you undress for him, rocks his erection through your slickness and instead wonders how he ever lived these twenty-two years without you. jungkook fucks you today like he has been all week; firmly, passionately. you've gotten so used to the banging of his broken headboard drowning your moans out you don't think to quieten them anymore, hands clawing at jungkook's back and ass in an attempt to push him ever deeper.

he groans into your neck at how eagerly you receive him, the way you split your thighs wider and clench around his cock desperately. he never would have thought you the type to love a good pounding - it really was always the quiet ones. there's something about the way you writhe under him, your eyes rolling back into your head with a flutter, mouth hanging open in ecstasy. he could never get enough of you. and it scared him a little.

"jungkook," you beg when he starts to slow down on purpose, your fingers threading into the nape of his neck to tug at his hair painfully. but he doesn't relent. he knows you're about to cum and he just loves to draw it out, loves to make it last as long as possible. it was a little intimidating how well he knew your body already, because if he was fucking you this good within the first week then what the hell was waiting for you in the future? you squirm when jungkook angles himself to drag over your clit, rolling into it with enough force to get you whining but not enough to push you over the edge. "please, just! just let me...jungkook!"

you suddenly feel his teeth flat against your neck: he's laughing at you. it makes your face heat even further even though you didn't think it was possible once he hoisted one of your thighs over his elbow. he starts to thrust harder but keeps his measured pace, shoving you up the bed steadily. you were practically in tears under him when he gives one of your nipples a gentle suck, beautifully contrasting the burning stretch of his cock inside you. god, you wanted to cum so bad. "jungkook, i'm begging you..."

"what's the rush?" he whispers under your ear. you shiver. he lowers your leg down, hands slipping further to now angle your ass so he can drive into you with force but halt all friction against your clit in the process. the sudden off-on stimulation was making you sweat and grow delirious, your face burying into jungkook's neck as he fucks you with renewed vigour. he likes watching your tits shake whenever he speeds up, how your face scrunches more at the wet, slapping sounds of sex getting louder. even when he's balls deep, jungkook is always on the hunt for new ways to fluster you.

"baby," you whisper suddenly, feather light over his bottom lip. you say it so delicately he almost misses it. he watches with hooded eyes and a sweaty brow when you place a gentle, chaste kiss over the mole under his mouth. the action is so overwhelmingly intimate that jungkook's heart practically lurches out from his chest. you're so pretty with your bitten lips and sparkling eyes underneath him that his brain short circuits for a second, causing him to pause mid-thrust before something clicks: he wants you to cum. now.

it's funny how it's the simplest action that gets jungkook to ram you into orgasm. one little peck and suddenly he's wild with the need to bury his cock into the very back of your cunt, feel you pulse around him. for him. and you do; it only takes a couple minutes of rough thrusting for jungkook to have you moaning into his skin helplessly, your body jolting with the force of your release so that you rut up to meet his hips in a frenzy. he revels in it, licking up your neck while he finishes with a grunt and listens to you whine at the never ending aftershocks. you're both gasping and exhausted by the time he finally slows to a stop, head dipping into your shoulder before he collapses into you. the feel of your fingers running through his sweaty hair, cradling him against your body while you lie there together almost makes him forget to pull out, knot up and bin the condom.

it's difficult not to rush back into your arms again once he returns to the bed. he didn't think he'd like being held so much; jungkook has had a lot of sex with a lot of girls but it was never this...comforting. easy.

"so are you ever gonna tell me about this one?" you ask as you crawl into his damp chest. you like to trace over the sweat around his nipples after sex, watch him squirm and whine, but this time you venture upwards to the tattoo across his chest. it rests perfectly in the dip between his collar bones, a line of roman numerals you had been wandering about ever since you caught a peek through his v neck that day. jungkook doesn't reply, too busy catching his breath. you wrap the sheet around your breasts before cinching your brows in concentration. "i know it's a date. it has to be, with the way the numbers are separated. the day you lost your virginity?"

jungkook rolls his eyes. "do i look like a fifteen year old girl?"

you pinch one of his nipples, earning a short squeak from him. "don't insult fifteen year old girls. the day you got crabs for the first time?"

"no."

"chlamydia?"

"no!"

"herpes?"

"what is it with you and associating me with venereal disease?" he huffs, reaching over to drink some water from a bottle beside the bed. still, it's cute the way your lips set into a determined line while you concentrated. you fit in perfectly with his messy little studio, wrapped in his sheets and covered in his lovebites. jungkook isn't usually one for pillow talk simply because he doesn't have a lot to say after he's got his fill, but there's something extremely satisfying about keeping you in his bed if only to indulge in the fact he's the only man who gets to see you like this, naked and soft after sex. it made him feel smug. special. not many men got to enjoy this so enjoy you he would.

you trace around his nipple again while you think, and he shivers at the contact. he can feel your smooth calf rub up his leg absent-mindedly, causing his still-sore dick to stir in the beginnings of new arousal. it didn't help that you held the sheet up under your breasts while you sat beside him, pushing them together as if purely for his viewing pleasure. not that you had any idea, flipping some hair over your shoulder before locking eyes with him again seriously. they're somehow alluring and mischievous and adorable all that the same time when you say, "is it the day you watched the episode of naruto where jiraiya died?"

his suddenly looks visibly upset. "we don't talk about that episode in this house."

you giggle when he turns his head away from you. "are you crying, jungkook?"

"he was his sensei!" he complains, still refusing to look at you even when you wind your arms around his neck with a light laugh. you kiss his jaw softly, placating him enough to show you his scowl before you're kissing that too. his face is still slightly bruised from the fight, so you're careful to pepper over the little nicks. jungkook can't help but relax into you, mouth falling slack and letting you apologise with little pecks. he traces your chin gently with his fingers when he wants more, about to part your mouth and rub his semi into your thigh when-

"is it the day you ate six ramen cups in one sitting?"

he pauses. "actually, you're right i should get that tattooed it was a really proud day for me. they were fire noodles too so you wouldn't believe the ring sting wh-" he cocks his head, a crinkle forming on his nose bridge when he squints in confusion. "wait, how do you even know that?"

"yoongi told me," you grin, pulling away to wiggle your hips playfully against his side, reminding jungkook of his growing erection. "he gave me his number so we can gossip about you."

jungkook takes the opportunity to grab your thigh, using his hips to suddenly roll you underneath him again. you gasp, feeling jungkook part your legs around his body to accommodate his weight on you. the skin of his lower abdomen lines up with your still sensitive wetness, making you yelp at the warm contact all of a sudden. pulling the sheet away from you with a wicked smile, jungkook relishes in your embarrassed gulp when your breasts press flush into his bare chest.

"so you and hyung talk now?" he murmurs, reaching to tease your nipple this time. you crush your teeth into your lower lip, jungkook's attentive stare and grabby hands making your heart beat a mile a minute all over again. his hair is pushed back to reveal his strong brows, the slant of his smirk as boyish as ever, dimples showing. god he was so pretty. "first hobi hyung, then me, now yoongi...you're really working your way through the group, aren't you noona?"

"don't tell me you're jealous, romeo," you huff, but your voice isn't as steady as you'd like. he hums a laugh into your collar bones, your eyes fluttering shut when you feel the wetness of his tongue trace your skin. it's so warm and hypnotic, turning you into a pliant doll underneath him while he sucks more hickeys over your skin. jungkook knew how to shut a girl up, that much was apparent by the whimpers that slipped from your mouth. and it almost worked. "the day you got your first xbox?"

he sighs, dropping his head into your chest before rolling off you in defeat. you clearly pushed all chances of a round three off the table so he just lies back and throws an arm over his eyes lazily. "no. you're never gonna guess it, trust me."

you scoot closer, taking up the challenge. "first camera?"

"no."

"first overwatch win?"

"no."

"the day you got that ugly truck?"

"take that back, she's not ugly!"

"first threesome? first pair of timberlands? first linkin park album?"

jungkook groans. jesus, was he that transparent? he peeks through one eye to quickly scan his messy room, looking for any sign of rock or heavy metal memorabilia because he sure as hell didn't tell anyone about his embarrassing emo phase. sure enough he spots the old posters rolled up and tossed into the bottom of his open wardrobe, the linkin park and evanescence ones sticking out enough for someone observant enough to spot it from across the room. another reminder why jungkook doesn't like bringing girls back to his place. and the downside to hooking up with smart chicks. "alright inspector gadget, that's enough-"

"i've got it!" you shout, clapping your hands excitedly. "i bet it's that time when you first touched a girls tit! weren't you like, fourteen? it was behind the changing rooms at your old dance school, remember?"

jungkook's covers his face in mortification. he was really going to kill yoongi with his bare hands the next time he saw him. "okay look, first of all she was a c cup which was a big deal back then! and second, if i tell you will you promise to stop talking to hyung about my embarrassing back stories?"

"yes!" you lie, eyes lighting up as you bounce cutely. "tell me, tell me!"

jungkook chews the inside of his cheek bloody, cheeks flushing bright pink all the way up to his ears. he looks so cute, so young and vulnerable while he fidgets about and twiddles his thumbs, adam's apple bobbing when he gulps. it didn't help that you were watching him expectantly like a hawk.

"well?" you press, tilting your head to meet his eyes from where he avoids looking at you.

jungkook's cheeks are now practically tomato red, doe eyes meeting yours hesitantly when he mumbles, "it's my mum's birthday."

the warmth that floods your chest is unexpected, and you feel it ripple throughout your body in waves. jungkook rubs the tip of his nose, feigning coolness even though his palms are definitely sweating. especially considering the residual history with your own mother - would it make you sad? angry? was he stupid for telling you the truth and not letting you believe it was one of your ridiculous guesses if only to spare you the short anguish? just when he thinks he could die of embarrassment, wishing that the earth would split and swallow him up whole so he wouldn't have to endure your gawking, you sit yourself on his lap. jungkook looks at you in surprise, hands fidgeting even more around your hips when he watches you smile at him like that. out of nowhere you lean into him, swerving down to press a sweet kiss over the numbers inked across his chest. he all but swoons.

"so," you say finally, voice velvet soft without even a hint of derision despite your next words. "you're a mama's boy."

"shut up," he grumbles, but jungkook can't help but take delight in the way you cup his cheeks and turn him back to kiss you, pulling you closer and letting you grind into his forgotten hard-on. you were already tugging the sheet away from his waist, humming contently at the warmth of his skin under your hands. he must have been a saint in his last life to pull a girl this eager. "hun, wait. lemme prep you, shh-"

"don't care," you gasp, tugging his lower lip between your teeth to make him groan. "want your dick in me."

jungkook can't help but grin arrogantly into the kiss. "so is that your play? the sensitive, small-town-boy thing is what does it for you?" you don't reply because yes is the answer and you both know it, instead opting to lick your way up jungkook's throat while you hastily position the head of his cock against you. "didn't know you were such a textbook romcom protagonist, noona."

"just shut up and fuck me before i-" you freeze instantly when you see the time on flash on your phone on the floor when seulgi's text appears. your eyes nearly pop out of your head, jumping off jungkook's dick faster than he can blink. "shit, i'm late!"

he pouts childishly, neglected cock sitting there while you tug on your underwear and race around the room in search of your clothes. "what happened to wanting my dick in you?"

"later," you pant, bending to look under the bed. "if i don't catch jimin now then that idiot is gonna build a fort in that fucking gym this weekend, i know it," you finally find your shirt thrown into a pile of jungkook's laundry, holding it up to put it on before you gasp at it in shock. "oh my god! jungkook!"

"what?" he yawns, already settling back into the pillows.

you flip the shirt to show him the front of it angrily, the large cum stain streaking its way from one corner to the other. "look what you did earlier! i can't wear this!"

he snorts when you hurl the t shirt at him, holding it up to get a good look at it and trying not to feel too proud of himself. "oh my god, it's all the way up to the collar, look! you ever wonder how fast cum travels, like damn how many miles an hour is this? i'm impressed with myself!"

even you can't help but laugh at his stupid comment. "god, why are boys so dumb..."

"hey!" he squawks when you tug one of his huge white tees, stuffing the ends into your jeans as you shimmy them on hurriedly. "that's mine!"

"and that top was mine before you got your jizz all over it!" you shove your shoes on throwing your phone into your jacket pocket. "we'll trade back after you wash it. that was my favourite black crew neck you know!"

"are you just using that as an excuse to see me again?" he wiggles his eyebrows, scooting to sit on the end of the bed so he can reach over and tug your hips to him while you quickly tie up your hair.

you eye him. "if you don't want me to come back, that's fine."

he pinches your ass. "tomorrow. after lunch."

you smirk. "thought so."

x

x

x

the cocktail of emotions that jimin experiences when he sees you waving at him from the other end of the library is too much for his brain. relief, because he missed you. panic, because why did he feel like he had something to be defensive about? and then distaste because, was that one of jungkook's ratty shirts?

"hey," he smiles when you finally reach him, as if you'd just come back from the bathroom.

"don't hey me!" you shrug your coat off hurriedly, sweating from having to jog all this way. jimin watches you brace your hands on your hips, eyes trained onto him like he's at a police line up or something. "go on. start."

"start what?"

"giving me your bullshit excuses," you sit on the table he's working at, kicking your feet up on a chair while you regard him. you rest your chin in your palm while you wait, waving your hand dismissively. "about how you've busy with finals and the gym and fending off the plethora of girls who are constantly after you. the sooner you finish we can talk about the real problem."

"and what's the real problem then?" jimin challenges, spreading his legs while he leans back in his chair to stare back at you. he cocks his jaw, not exactly in the best of moods after his argument with taehyung. the last thing he was ready for was someone else giving him shit in the same day.

jimin isn't prepared for the way your eyes soften, the way you inch closer to him and twirl your finger over the back of his hand in a peace offering. you weren't like him or taehyung; you didn't yell. didn't raise your voice or spit swears or guilt trip. maybe it was your messy past, your mild mannered personality or simply your ability to read him so easily. you knew exactly how to break down his wall of defence, knew exactly what to do and what to say and how to say it. which is why you let out a short sigh before starting. "i know this is about jungkook."

jimin's tongue pokes in his cheek. firstly because he realised how stupid he and taehyung were for assuming you didn't have shit figured out before they did, and secondly because why did the exact same topic of conversation evoke such a different response when it came from you instead of taehyung? because now all jimin can do is grind his teeth nervously, eyes flicking about the room while he jiggles his legs. there was no hiding from you. "what are you talking about? that's..."

"come on jiminie," you tug at his pinky finger. you always made fun of that one for being the chubbiest. jimin doesn't know why but his heart melts. "you haven't exactly been subtle. you warned me about jungkook and i didn't listen and i get how that must feel for you. for someone who's done as much for me as you have."

jimin shrugs nonchalantly but his chest is tight, throat dry. "it's your life, ___. i'm fine with it, seriously."

this time you're the one to keep quiet for a second. you wish you could transfer your emotions into him so he'd understand the feeling you get whenever you look at him, wish you were articulate enough to describe the way you felt about jimin but you doubted that was even possible. all you can do is gnaw your lip, your pretty face staring at him with the light of a thousand stars in your eyes. jimin could get lost like this, in you. "you know no one could ever replace you, right? hoseok, jungkook, even taehyung...no guy could ever be what you are to me."

you're being a dick and you know it, tae’s words echo in his head, which is what causes jimin’s resolve to finally crack. he could never stay mad at you. maybe if it was some other girl, some other friend of his - but not you. never you.

which is why he gives in and grabs you by the legs, tugging you onto his knees to make you squeak. jimin's crooked front tooth revels itself when he smiles at you, eyes curving into the sweet crescents that you know and love. you'd be lying if you weren't a little giddy at his open affection like this in public, the way he holds the back of your hips so you don't slip off his legs. "that's good to know, because my mum is still convinced we're gonna get married some day. like a harry met sally situation."

you relax against him, glad to have your jimin back. "but we never hated each other!"

"i dunno, i feel pretty strongly about this shirt you're wearing," jimin sneers, picking at it with the end of his fingers in disgust. "what happened? jungkook get ramen juice on your top and gave you this bed sheet instead?"

"i wish it was ramen juice," you hang your head. "you have no idea how much i wish it was ramen juice."

[artificialqueens]

and i want you (kameron/aquaria/blair) - chapter 2 - sheep

an: aah thank u guys so so much for the positive comments so far!! i tried rly hard to make this chapter fluffy but it’s not my strong suit so i hope i did okay ^^

—

Blair doesn’t know why she tortures herself with cold coffee in the wintertime. Maybe she’s a caffeine addict, maybe she’s a masochist, but she’s grateful regardless when her favorite barista lays a whipped cream loaded iced cappuccino next to her mountain of homework.

“Thank you, Kal,” she calls after the girl, shuffling her papers so she doesn’t spill anything on them. She’s already handed in one coffee stained history essay, she doesn’t need any more.

Next to the messily written, barely finished essay lies a literal stack of chemistry work. Beside it, a math review booklet. She’s half hidden behind all the respective notebooks and binders, tucked in the corner of the small cafe, fingernails a translucent blue with chill. Her natural habitat: camouflaged, studying. She gulps down two thirds of the coffee without really looking, shivers, and continues to write.

The days have only gotten colder, midterms are slowly getting closer, and Blair’s workload hasn’t gotten any lighter. She thanks whatever entity is watching over her that she only has three exams this year. Between gruelling evening fast-food shifts, and struggling to keep her grades afloat, Blair is exhausted. Each day is a blur and fog of homework and “How may I help you this evening?” Lonely is the only emotion she’s been able to register for a long time now, and it’s starting to feel like she’s hollowed out. Just a thin, hollow thing that could snap with the slightest touch.

Homework doesn’t seem to matter anymore. She’s bleary, lethargic, and the warmth of the cafe is finally starting to seep into her small, cold frame. She pushes her coffee away, and sighs, leaning back against the wall. She rests her head in her hand, and suddenly keeping her eyes open feels like the most arduous task she’s ever been give. She blinks once, twice, and her eyelids slowly begin to flutter.

A cup suddenly appears in front of her, and Blair startles back to awareness, peering through her wall of textbooks to see who laid it there. She blinks the remaining sleepiness from her eyes, and they go wide when she sees Kameron standing there. Her wet hair is pulled back into a ponytail, and the logo on her duffle bag tells Blair she’s just come from the sports centre a few minutes down the road. She’s got that same worried look in her eyes, but her smile is soft and gentle.

“Hey,” she murmurs, deep voice sending a different kind of shiver through Blair’s spine. “You alright?”

For a moment, Blair thinks that she could tell the truth, but the thought only lasts a second, and when she opens her mouth it’s the same two words. “I’m fine,” she breathes. “Just tired.”

Kameron nods slowly, and Blair hears the ghost of a “Yeah,” slip from her lips before they both look away.

She takes a breath, and tries. “How are y-you?” Her own voice sounds unfamiliar.

Kameron smiles as if she were excited about the question and Blair’s heart swells. “I’m good, I just finished working out.” Blair tries not to let her imagination stray, but her plan of focusing on Kameron’s hushed, even voice doesn’t end up helping. “Your name’s Blair, right? I, uhm, I bought you a hot chocolate.”

“Oh,” Blair squeaks, and she flinches upwards when Kameron pushes the drink forward so it touches her fingers. It’s warm, and Blair grabs it with both hands before she can stop herself. “Thank you.” She blinks up at Kameron, a small smile dancing on her lips

“Yeah, no problem,” Kameron hums, her voice the sweetest candy Blair has ever heard. “It’ll warm you up on your way home.” Their eyes meet again. Kameron steps just a little closer, and leans down. “You should probably go get some rest.”

Blair wants to melt under her gaze, and she finds herself nodding despite the pile of work beneath her. With languid movements, she gathers her papers and books and slides them all into her bag neatly. When she’s finished, she rises on her still shaky legs, and slings the heavy bag over one shoulder, rubbing one of her eyes with her free hand.

Kameron’s phone buzzes, and Blair startles awake again, turning towards her. “My name is Kameron, by the way, and Aquaria says hi,” the girl introduces herself as if Blair didn’t already know who she was. She blushes at the realization that Kameron had texted Aquaria something about her.

“H-Hello,” she stammers, trying not to let her excitement show. Kameron chuckles, a gruff but lovely sound, and Blair’s blush deepens. “Sorry,” she says instinctively, “I mean- I- Tell her I said hello…”

Oh, how Blair longs to hide her face in her sleeves and bolt.

Kameron touches her shoulder, featherlight, and takes a step towards the door. “C’mon,” she smiles, “I can walk you home, If you want.”

And so they walk together through the cold and fog, Blair’s gloveless hands kept warm by the still steaming hot chocolate. They settle into calm, sporadic conversation, and Blair is comforted by the company, becoming more and more at ease as their stroll continues. She hasn’t spoken to anyone, really spoken to anyone, in ages. Some of the invisible ten-ton weight on her shoulders lifts. Eventually, they come upon Blair’s apartment, and she whispers her grateful goodbye under the blurry yellow street lights.

“Th-Th-Thanks again for the hot chocolate,” her teeth chatter above her stuttering, but when Kameron touches her shoulder again heat blooms through her chest.

“It’s okay,” Kameron’s freckles look so beautiful with snow in her hair, and Blair can’t help but drink in the sight, even if just for a moment. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

Something bright bubbles in Blair’s chest, and this time she does nothing to hide it. “Y-Yeah,” she sighs happily, basking in the unexpected warmth of the snow and glow. “Safe trip back.”

She turns away slowly, not wanting this absolute dream to end, but slowly shuffles up to her apartment nonetheless. She slips inside, places her hot chocolate on the kitchen counter, and buries her face in her hands.

She’s fucking giddy.

“Okay,” she breathes, attempting to calm herself down, but her phone sounds off and when she sees the notification her heart leaps into her throat. “I can help you w/ your hw tomorrow,” it reads, and Blair doesn’t know whether to feel grateful, or guilty that she still hasn’t sent anything past a greeting to Aquaria.

Her fingers fumble to type out a reply, and the only thought on her mind is “please.”

In the morning, Blair drifts through the hallways and waits for third period study hall, leg bouncing with anxiety under her desk. When the bell finally rings, she ducks through the taller students and dashes to her classroom. Her chest is tight, but it’s not unpleasant, and she tries to tell herself that she’s just excited to finish some chemistry work.

She’s the first in the room, as usual, and she all but falls into her usual seat in the back corner. Her inhales are shaky, and her eyes flicker towards the door every time some students trickle in. She’s in the middle of trying to take a deep breath when she spots them, and the giddiness begins anew.

Kameron’s face lights up and Aquaria practically skips towards her. They’re holding hands, and Blair gives them a small wave.

“Bonjour,” Aquaria greets, and god, Blair could implode. She twirls that purple pen in her slim fingers and takes the seat in front of Blair, while Kameron sits beside her.

“Did you sleep well?” Kameron asks, and Blair thinks she might be a little too mesmerized by it.

“Yeah,” she answers, raising her eyebrows. For the first time in a while, it’s not a lie. After climbing into bed, sated from hot cocoa and warm feelings, she slept like an absolute log.

Aquaria drums her fingers on Blair’s desk, her eyes gleaming not unlike a cat’s. “Good,” she says, “let’s get started on that chemistry. I want to do something easy today.”

Blair blinks and Kameron groans, “Babe,” from beside her. Aquaria gives Kameron a puzzled look, and Blair just pulls out her stack of papers, stifling a grin.

Aquaria is terrible at explaining things, it turns out. She stumbles and mumbles, and always ends up just writing out the steps of the problems on Blair’s scrap paper; breezing through them. Occasionally, her tongue pokes out from between her lips as she concentrates, and Blair catches Kameron staring fondly as she struggles not to do the same.

After she’s worked through a decent few sheets, Blair pauses to stretch, and Aquaria whips out her phone. Blair isn’t at all surprised when she immediately opens instagram. It’s kind of cute, actually. She tries not to peek too much at the colorful makeup and fashion posts that scroll by.

Kameron puts her phone down, and when Blair glances over the girl gives her a shy smile. “Hey, what are you doing for lunch?” she tilts her head to the side and some stray red hair falls over her face. Aquaria looks over to them with those curious cat eyes of hers, and Blair shrinks with the attention.

“I’m not doing anything,” she shrugs, hoping she doesn’t sound as pathetic as she feels. The two share a look, some sort of secret conversation, and then Aquaria speaks.

“I’ll tell the girls we have other business to attend to.” She jumps back to her phone, and Kameron laughs aloud. “What?”

Her smile when she answers is art across her face and Blair continues to watch the exchange, enraptured. “Why are you such a savage, sweets?”

Aquaria gasps, seemingly very offended by the accusation. “I’m not being savage, it’s the truth.” She crosses her arms, and honest to god pouts when Kameron continues to laugh, even whining when Blair gives in and starts to chuckle to. Words don’t seem to be Aquaria’s strong suit, but it’s endearing in an odd way. “You’re so mean to me,” complains Aquaria, huffing in frustration and blowing strands of her silky black hair around in process.

Kameron stands then, stepping over to smooth out her girlfriend’s hair. Blair feels like she’s intruding on an intimate moment, something small but entirely theirs, until someone singsongs a little ways away. “Ooh, look at the lovebirds,” the girl laughs, and Aquaria sticks her tongue out at her.

“Shut up, Vanessa, let me be gay in peace.”

“But you’re gonna kill poor blondie over there, she looks like a fucken’ tomato,” Vanessa exclaims, and Blair’s face explodes further into a blush than it already apparently is. Her shoulders spike as Aquaria and Kameron both turn to her. Aquaria meets her eyes for a second, and stares like she’s set eyes on a delicious canary, before glancing away and giving the look to Kameron instead.

“Chemistry time, then, Blair.” Aquaria spins the purple pen in her hand again, while Kameron and Blair both avoid eye contact, flustered.

Blair tries to ignore Vanessa when she laughs again, and heaves a sigh of relief when the lunch bell rings.

[rufousnmacska]

Goodbye and Hello - 4

Manon and Dorian said goodbye in Orynth. But for them, saying hello again is only a matter of time.

Kingdom of Ash spoilers

Tagging @itach-i @nestasbucket @manontrashbeak @blackhavilliard @bookishwitchling @jimetg98

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged 😊

fanfic master list (includes the link to my fics on AO3)

Part One: I Wish…

Part Two: Another Day

Part Three: Those Two Words

Part Four: Breakfast in Bed

Manon couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept.

On the rare nights when she actually fell asleep, it never lasted long. Dreams kept her from getting any rest. For every nightmare about the battle, she had mundane dreams that left her just as lonely and drained. Visions of the Thirteen yielding, conversations with Asterin or Dorian, or even the sister she’d killed. Memories from when she’d come of age and formed her coven. They plagued her each night.

As she struggled to come wake, Manon wondered exactly how long it had been. A year perhaps? Yes, definitely before the war. Which meant she just had her first full night’s sleep in about a year.

Opening her eyes to a dark room, her mind stumbled in groggy confusion as she tried to recognize her surroundings. A fire flickered from somewhere behind her, and there was a sliver of daylight coming through the curtains. Silky soft sheets caressed her bare skin as she rolled onto her back.

The Ferian Gap.

It was completely remade from the horrible place of valg infested men where she’d once lived. The rukhin were transforming the Omega into more of a home than a military outpost. She started to doze off again, reaching towards the other side of the bed for the warm body on which she’d fallen asleep.

When her fingers met nothing, she stretched further, thinking perhaps the bed was bigger than she’d remembered.

Manon jerked fully awake and sat up. Ignoring the clench in her gut and the rush of her pulse, she scanned the room for Dorian. But like the bed, it was empty.

The bathing room door hung open, showing no signs that he was in there. From where she still sat motionless in gloomy darkness, she couldn’t see any bags or clothing strewn across the furniture, or piled on the floor.

This reaction was irrational and stupid. And it was something she could not control. No matter how she tried to steady her breathing or reason out where he could be or hear above the formless ringing in her ears, her body refused to obey. Frustration wove itself into the fear and she bit her lip, trying to will the first tear from breaking free.

“Manon?”

She twisted towards the door, where Dorian now stood holding a tray piled high with plates and bowls. Strange aromas - spicy, savory, sweet - wafted through the air as he lightly kicked the door closed behind him.

She’d thought he’d left. Not to get them breakfast. But left. Gone.

Just the sight of him eased some of the pressure and gnawing ache in her chest. But the damned tears had not disappeared. One fell and she turned away before he could see it.

More tears threatened as she noticed one of his shirts crumpled on the bed, less than a foot away and within easy reach. It had escaped her search moments before. Manon grabbed it and threw it over her head. By the time she looked at him, her eyes were dry.

He still stood by the door, watching her, his brows knit in confusion and his gaze searching her inch by inch, like a flame on her skin. She thought about blaming her state on a nightmare, but she didn’t have the energy to lie.

For whatever reason, Dorian said nothing as he sat the tray on a table. An invisible lash of his magic opened the curtains to a bright sunny day. Squinting against the sudden light, Manon excused herself to the bathing room. 

She saw to her needs quickly and returned to the bedroom. Dorian was rearranging what looked like days’ worth of food, spreading everything out on the table. When she pulled out a chair to sit, he shook his head and ushered her back to the freshly made bed.

“Breakfast in bed. Remember?”

Dorian was back to the table by the time she recalled their goodbye in Orynth, and the life he’d wished for them. Travel, no responsibilities, libraries for him, weapons for her, nights like the one they’d just shared, and yes, breakfast in bed. 

Manon sat cross-legged and watched as he continued with his preparations. His very literal take on ‘breakfast in bed’ seemed silly. And potentially messy. But the sight of so many dishes distracted her from the thought. “How much do you think I eat?” she asked.

He laughed, and she knew from its lilting tone that he would not press her about what he’d walked in on. At least, not yet.

“I know how much you eat, but not what you eat. Or rather, what you like.” He raised a steaming silver kettle high above a mug and began to pour. “One of the cooks in the kitchen showed me how to do this properly,” he said, speaking slowly to concentrate on not spilling.

Most of the black liquid ended up in the mugs and he flashed her a grin that was irresistible. Relenting to his charm, Manon clapped, without too much sarcasm, and was instantly rewarded with an even brighter smile. Dorian brought the tray over and placed it on the top of the bed, then sat carefully across from her.

“I’ve never seen tea like this,” she said, looking down into a mug. Now more of a caramel color, the liquid was swirling with foam.

“That’s because it isn’t tea. It’s kahve. Milk and sugar are used to counter the bitterness.” Quickly, he added, “As I learned yesterday morning when I almost spat it out all over the table. Did I mention that I’ve made a wonderful first impression here?”

Manon laughed quietly, raised the mug, and inhaled. It smelled very good, like nothing she’d had before. Spicy and nutty, with other earthy scents she couldn’t quite place.

“What is your favorite food anyway?” he asked, handing her a napkin and utensils.

After so many years of eating only what was available - whatever game could be caught, the slop served here and then at Morath, travel and war rations - Manon didn’t have an answer. Like sleep, it was difficult to remember the last time she’d had a choice in what she ate. The food they had in the Wastes was nourishing and hearty, but nothing extravagant. Their options were limited by what they’d been able to grow in one season, or acquire through trade, which wasn’t much since they had little to offer in exchange.

“I don’t really know,” she admitted, feeling foolish as soon as the words were out of her mouth. “I don’t cook. Except for what I can catch. Game, fish. And this past year, we didn’t have a lot of variety.”

“Well, it’s good that I brought a little of everything then. Maybe something in here will become your favorite.”

“You made all of this?”

Sheepishly, he said, “No. I made some of it. Most are things imported from the Southern Continent that they keep stocked in the kitchens.” He took the napkin she’d done nothing with and spread it out over her lap, then began naming things as he pointed to each plate.

“Smoked and cured meats. Warning, some are spicy. A few different kinds of cheese. Olives.”

“I know what meat and cheese and olives are”, she said dryly, but Dorian ignored her.

“Dried mango, candied ginger...” He went on, naming a bunch of fruits from the Southern Continent that she’d never heard of. “Nothing fresh unfortunately but that’s the nature of bringing in food from so far away.”

Pointing to a still warm loaf covered in seeds and nuts, he said, “I believe you know what bread is.” Another laugh escaped her lips before she could hold it in. “Porridge,” he continued, lifting the lid off a bowl. “And to make it palatable,” three more containers were uncovered, “honey, orange jam, and yoghurt.”

Before he could tell her that the bowl of almonds did in fact contain almonds, she asked, “And what did you make?”

“Ah! The main course.” There was a large, oval platter in the middle of the tray, its contents hidden by a ceramic lid. With a flourish, he pulled it off and announced, “Eggs with cheese, ham, peppers, and tomatoes. I usually put different vegetables in it but I had to improvise.”

Manon examined the dish, bent over to smell it, then poked it with her fork. “It looks edible.”

“You won’t know until you try it,” he purred.

They had flocks of chickens at the Keep, so she ate eggs often. But unlike her normal breakfast, these were fluffy and light. At least the parts not drenched in melted cheese. Trying to get a little of everything, she gathered the egg concoction onto her fork and took a bite. He watched her like a hawk, waiting for any reaction, any tiny sign of enjoyment. Manon kept her face stonily flat as she chewed. Upon swallowing, she immediately reached for more.

Dorian leaned over and kissed her cheek. With the touch of his lips, she realized she was smiling.

Just as she began sampling the other food, he casually said, “Let’s play a game while we eat. A question for a question.”

Manon froze with her fork midway to her mouth. His eyes held the please he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, speak.

“I already asked one, so it’s your turn. We can’t give yes or no answers, and we each have the right to refuse...” He thought for a moment. “Three questions.”

She finished the jam laden bite of porridge. “Don’t we have to meet the Captain soon?”

“I saw Orghana already. She’s giving us the day to ourselves.” Manon arched a brow, to which Dorian innocently replied, “We got here early and they weren’t prepared for everything yet.”

She reached for her mug. The kahve was still steaming, almost too hot to hold, but she kept it cradled in her hands anyway. Warmth settled through her as she took a few tentative sips. It was good, she decided, savoring the sharp bite that came after the initial sweetness.

Dorian ate while she stalled. As she looked over the tray of food, at all he’d done, she decided she could at least try. He was giving her an out. Three of them, in fact.

“Okay.” Manon finally said, staring at him to gauge how far she could go in her questions. She remembered every single letter from him, every thought and confession. But there were things he hadn’t said that she’d wondered about.

“Now that you know more about your father, how he gave you his name, do you feel differently about him?”

***

Dorian almost choked on his kahve. As he cleared his throat, she watched with a mix of curiosity and apology. And just a hint of you asked for this.

“I was expecting something along the lines of ‘what is your favorite color’,” he joked, but she made no move to alter the question. Not that he’d expect her to. So, after some thought, he said, “When I think about him, it is... different than before. In some ways.”

His letters had contained almost everything – what he’d learned from Erawan, how he’d seen his father in the space between worlds, even the one or two details he’d managed to pull from his mother. But it had always been straightforward accounts of what had happened, never anything deeper.  

“Honestly, I still hate him for what he did. All the people he hurt. But...” He’d never admitted this to anyone else, not even Chaol. “But there is love too, for his help in the end. For knowing he’d fought back as much as he could.”

Manon smiled. She had once tried to get him to consider that his father had not been his true self and perhaps didn’t deserve the full brunt of Dorian’s hate. But he’d refused.

“I wasn’t able to see that before,” he acknowledged. “And there are days when I can’t see past the destruction he left behind. When all I can focus on is the bad. But mostly, I pity him.” Manon listened to every word, almost greedily. It made him think this wasn’t just about him and his father. Yes, she wanted to know about that. But it was almost like there was a different question hidden within it. One she wouldn’t, or couldn’t, ask.

“I don’t know who he really was, let alone who he could have become. That’s what I wonder about more than anything. The what-ifs.” After a long pause, he admitted to something else he’d never said out loud. “Sometimes, when I have to make a difficult decision, I imagine what he might have done. The real him, not the valg. I wonder if I could have made him proud.” Shaking his head, he huffed a laugh. “I don’t know if any of that made sense.”

“It did.” Her voice was thoughtful and quiet, her eyes intense and glowing. A moment passed before she shifted her attention back to the food.

“My turn,” he said, giving her his most mischievous grin. Not giving her a chance to protest, he asked, “What is your favorite color?”

This time her laugh was a little louder, a little more joyful. After a few moments, she said, “I’ve never had a reason to think about it.” Manon looked around the room before stopping and fixating on his eyes. “Blue.”

Dorian’s grin softened. “Good answer, witchling.”

“The blue of the sky in the Wastes,” she amended, drinking more kahve. “Sometimes, when the clouds are just right, it looks like the horizon is on fire from the setting sun. There’s a moment right before it disappears, when the sky is a deep blue. But there’s still that tiny bit of sunlight that makes it bright and distinct from the black. It’s impossible to describe, but it’s one of the things I’ve come to love about the Wastes.” She narrowed her eyes. “What?”

He almost said it. Listening to her, watching her face glow at the picture her memory painted of sunsets in the Wastes, he almost said he loved her. But he didn’t.

That lit up joy was a harsh contrast to the sight of her earlier, panicked and gasping for air, tears filling her eyes. He’d told himself she’d just come out of a nightmare. Even though she’d slept deeply the entire night, hardly stirring. Even though when he’d left to get breakfast, she was still fast asleep.

Biting back the words he wanted to say, Dorian replied, "That’s a better answer.”

She smiled and reached for a pastry. “And yours, princeling?”

“I was never able to settle on a single favorite color growing up. It always changed. But, I’ve always been partial to red,” he said, lifting her braid to admire the bright ribbon of fabric securing the end. “And I like gold.” Nodding back to the sofa, the red and gold wyvern of the Havilliard crest stood out on his heavy cloak. “But not that shade.” He leaned over so he was barely an inch from her face. “This gold,” he said, looking into her eyes. “This is my favorite.”

Manon gifted him a soft smile, which he promptly committed to memory.

“My turn,” he said, sitting back and popping a sugared almond into his mouth. “How do you think the rukhin will take to wyverns?”

There was no pause this time as Manon said, matter of factly, “They won’t have any trouble flying once they adjust to the larger size, which won’t take long. But wyverns are different animals. Their dominance hierarchies are more complex than they appear. It’s not just about sex or size. Abraxos is proof of that.”

Dorian suspected the rider had quite a bit of influence over the mount, but he didn’t interrupt. Instead, he watched happily as she grew more animated while describing some of the training she had planned for the coming days. He knew the challenge - not the kahve - was the source of her excitement. Manon would be in her element here, and he couldn’t wait to see it.

***

He was staring at her again. Staring as if he’d never seen her before. Or, as if he wanted to toss the tray of food off the bed and continue where they’d left off last night. Or like he was on the verge of saying something.  

Dorian’s face was usually like an open book to her. Sometimes she could see the writing clearly, other times, it was more like a picture book, only giving away broad strokes of the story. Right now, she knew he wanted to tell her something, but she didn’t know what.

As she reached for a pastry, Dorian picked up one of the larger treats and offered it to her. “Try this one first. I want to see if you like it.”

It was a square of golden dough, with corners pressed together in the middle, a dark filling, and sprinkles of large sugar crystals on top. Manon took it, but didn’t bite into it. “Trying to distract me from my next question?” she teased.

Dorian waved a hand. “Go ahead. Ask me anything.”

“Do you enjoy being a king?”

With an uncomfortable laugh, he said, “I’m going to reconsider playing these kinds of games with you in the future.”

The certainty in his voice, that they had a future together, made something in her relax. Manon hadn’t even known the tension was there, until it subsided.

“Yes, and no,” he said.

She waited for more and when he went back to eating, she sat the pastry down. “Answers cannot be yes or no,” she reminded him. He opened his mouth but she held up her hand. “And ‘yes, and no’ is the same thing as a singular yes, or a singular no.”

That grin was back, and Manon had to look away.

She’d told a partial lie earlier. Her favorite color was the blue of his eyes. It was why she loved the evening skies in the Wastes. In that flash of time before darkness, she was always reminded of his eyes. The sight of them now, ablaze with intensity, left Manon feeling utterly defenseless.

“I enjoy helping people. In some ways, I even enjoy that Adarlan is starting over. I wish it wasn’t because of war, but the chance to change things is exciting. It would be so much easier if I could just make proclamations and laws and see them done without the paperwork and meetings and politics.” He let out a heavy sigh. “If I never see another petition asking me to step in between two petty lords arguing over a border, I’d die happy.”

“Hmm. I never took you for a despot,” she mused.

“A benevolent despot,” he corrected. “Now, will you tell me what you think of that pastry?”

The smart ass had made it into a question. Manon huffed a laugh, then took a bite.

Her eyes flashed wide in surprise. “What is this?!”

“You’ve never had chocolate?”

“This is chocolate?” She ate the rest in one bite and grabbed another. “I’ve had something called chocolate but it didn’t taste like this. I’ve always wondered why people went crazy for it.”

He pushed the plate towards her, separating the chocolate pastries from the others. “They’re all yours,” he said. “I like the poppy seed myself.” Dorian selected one with a black, slightly gooey filling. “Try dipping yours in the kahve.”

She did, closing her eyes in pleasure. The flavors alone were amazing, but mixed together... She’d never tasted anything like it in her life.

“I think we found your favorite food. And drink,” he laughed. “I won’t make you give a verbal answer. This will suffice.”

Catching herself just before she spat out bits of the pastry, Manon started laughing too. He was beaming at her, just as he had when she’d first donned her crown so many months ago.

And just like that, unbidden and unwanted, memories flooded her mind. Images of the Thirteen, that battle, the yielding.

It was too much. Too many emotions coursed through her, twisting up with this sudden empty vulnerability. Manon didn’t know how to react, and before she could control it, her laugh turned into a choked sob. One moment she was actually happy, and the next, she was again forcing back tears.

***

Dorian made himself memorize everything about this moment. Manon, cross-legged on the bed, driving him mad by wearing his shirt, eating and drinking and laughing as if they had no cares in the world. As if they were the only two people alive.

But with no warning, no apparent reason, a shadow seemed to overtake her, and she was on the verge of tears.

He grabbed the tray and put it aside, returning to sit in front of her. “Manon?”

“Ask me when I last laughed,” she whispered shakily, staring down at her empty hands, open and lifeless in her lap.

His heart felt as though it were shattering, and he had no idea what to do. “It’s your turn,” he replied numbly, hating himself for being such a fool. For thinking this stupid breakfast could somehow fix things.

You can’t fix her.

Chaol’s words came back, almost a taunt in his head.

Cupping her cheek, he wiped away some of the tears before they fell. He knew the answer, but still, he asked, “When?”

“I don’t know,” she said, leaning into his touch. “I can’t remember ever laughing.”

“I’ve heard you laugh,” he said. “It’s my favorite sound.” He let go of her face to hold onto her now trembling hands.

“Some days are okay,” she went on, watching him rub her palms. “I can function, make decisions, force myself to seem normal. And other days, most days, it’s like I’m wading through a fog.” Her shoulder rose in a half-hearted shrug before she curled in on herself. “I must look normal though. No one says anything. No one notices.”

For a split second, Dorian was flung back in time to when he’d been imprisoned by the valg collar. No one had questioned its presence, his behavior. He’d felt so alone, so lost, he’d wished for death.

But Manon had noticed. She had seen the real him hiding within, and for some reason, she’d deemed him worthy of living. Enough to risk her life to try and save his.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “When you didn’t write, I should have known. I should have come.” Instead, godsdamn him, he’d let his doubts and insecurities get the better of him.  

“It’s ok,” she said flatly.

“No, it’s not.”

A shadow flitted across her face, along with that wariness from last night. “I’m tired,” she said, bringing an end to the conversation.

You can’t fix her.

Maybe not, Dorian thought. But he wouldn’t give up on her again.

As she lay down, he reached for a blanket and threw it over them both. Underneath, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tight against him. “I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered into her ear. “And I won’t let you go.”

He felt a slight nod of her head, the release of a held breath, and within minutes, she was asleep.

***

For the second time today, Manon awoke dazed in a dimly lit room and had to remind herself where she was.

 And for the second time ever, she awoke to the presence of a strong, solid body pressed against her back, an arm draped over her waist, and warm, steady breaths caressing her skin where Dorian nuzzled her neck.

The morning they had parted in Orynth had been the first.

Somehow knowing she was awake, he kissed her shoulder. “I’m here, witchling.”

Manon pulled her arm out from under his and took his hand. With their fingers interlaced, she brought it to her chest, forcing him to shift even closer. Then she fell back to sleep.

 To be continued...

[hellomissmabel]

A thirst for whiskey and gold (5)

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Lance Tucker x photographer!plus size!reader

Warnings: Fluff

Word count: 3.7k

Summary: Soulmate AU where people see their whole life flash by before their eyes when they first kiss their soulmate. After Y/N receives word of her husband James’ death, she moves to Ohio where her best friend Karen has just given birth to a baby girl, hoping to find some piece of mind. Karen has asked Y/N to be the godmother and it just so happens Lance is the godfather to this little bundle of joy. One night, Lance gets drunk with some of his friends and they play ‘truth or dare’ which leads to an unexpected discovery.

A/N: Written for @whotheeffisbucky

Series masterlist can be found here

“Her name is Adriana and she lives with her mother, Irina.”

You needed a minute. No, you needed more than a minute to make sense of this. One moment you’re straddling his thighs and cradling his face in your hands, the next you’re pushing him down in the couch cushions as you’re trying to get away from him.

“Wait – what? Who?,” you stutter as you’re stumbling, the back of your knees hitting the table as you take a couple steps backwards. Distraught and confused, you walk around the table, your hands in your hair.

“Irina is a Romanian gymnast,” Lance explains as his eyes watch intently how you’re struggling to keep it together. “We met at the Olympics in 2004. She had already won every national medal there is to win and was now competing for Olympic gold. And when she won Olympic gold as well, there was only one golden medal she yet had to win. Mine.”

Inhaling sharply once your back collides with the kitchen island, a sting of severe pain shooting through your shoulder, your body melts with the surface behind you. Lance notices your face contorts in discomfort and gets up from the couch, rushing towards you.

He tells you to take off your jacket so he can take a look at your shoulder. Reluctantly, you follow his orders and shed your jacket, revealing the nasty bruise on your upper arm. “It’s nothing,” you assure Lance. “I must’ve bumped into something yesterday.“

The gymnast doesn’t fall for your attempt to brush away the subject, instead inspecting your other arm and even lifting up your shirt to see if there are more cuts and bruises on your stomach and sides. Quickly you bat away his hands and pull down your shirt, giving him the dead glare as he shrugs and mumbles something about ‘just making sure’, his eyes expressing a deep concern.

“I’m fine, Lance. Please, I’m fine. Now, about Irina,” you press him a little harder, adamant at hearing the full story.

Leaning next to you on the kitchen counter, Lance sighs deeply as he remembers Irina and the circumstances under which they met. “I wasn’t supposed to fraternise with any of the other contestants but Irina got me drunk enough. I didn’t remember much from that night but the next thing I know she’s claiming I’m her soulmate.”

Casting his eyes downwards, Lance feels a shameful blush tint his cheeks red. “Irina… God, Irina can be very convincing. Back then I was living and training in Los Angeles and she insisted on joining me. My coach didn’t want a scandal on his hands and so he told me to take her with me or he’d kick me out. Then Irina said we were going to have a baby. Her pregnancy forced her to abandon her career in gymnastics and she still blames me for that.”

“How old is she? Your girl, Adriana?”

“Almost thirteen. Her birthday is in January.”

Looking up again, his gaze rests on your hand just inches away from his. Lance still feels that urge to hold your hand, brushing his fingertips tentatively while gauging your reaction. Much to his surprise, you don’t pull your hand away at once, yet give him a sad smile as you turn away from him and grab your things. “I need some time to think about this.”

“I understand,” Lance replies regretfully, reaching out for you one last time before you can swing your bag over your shoulder and leave.

With a pang to your heart, you have to deny him a final touch before you exit his apartment. “You’ve got a little girl, Lance. You’ve got a responsibility towards your little girl,” you clarify your lack of affection. “I can’t be with a guy that denies his responsibilities as a father.”

“Yeah, a little girl that lives with her mother in Los Angeles. I don’t see her at all. Irina keeps her from me,” the brunet reasons with you. “I’ve tried, Y/N, believe me, I’ve tried to see my kid. But if I want to see my daughter, that would mean that I will have to recognise Irina as my lawful soulmate and marry her. The law is very clear about that.”

The corners of your lips tugs downwards as soon as your fingers reach the doorknob. “I’m sorry, Lance. Just give me some time, okay?” Opening the door, you are ready to step outside, Lance’s shoulders dropping visibly in despair once you turn your back on him. “I’ve got a dress fitting at four and then the christening tomorrow. We will see each other then.”

Your feet carry you to the last place you’d expect. You can’t exactly go to Karen or Melinda, knowing they’ll be the first to judge Lance for his actions. What you need now is someone who knows Lance but will give it to you straight. And the first name to pop into your head is Hope, so you ring her doorbell and cross your fingers the bronze medallist is home.

As soon as she sees you standing on her porch, eyes glistening in doubt and begging for advice, she quickly invites you in and sits you down, offering some eggnog to ease the heartache. “Now tell me, Y/N, what brings you here to my humble home?”

“Well, I don’t know if Karen told you,” you start off, warming yourself on the eggnog, “But Lance and I agreed to meet up at that diner he loves so much.”

“Ah yes,” Hope grins cheekily, “Lance sure loves his pancakes. What did you guys talk about?”

For a heartbeat, you consider retracing your steps and telling her about your entire day. Nevertheless, you decide against vomiting your heart out and just settle for the dirty little details. Words rush from your lips like a hurricane, about how you made the first move and kissed Lance, how you loved it so much when he kisses you back, and eventually about his daughter, Adriana.

“He told you about Irina, didn’t he?,” Hope chuckles darkly as she scrolls through the gallery on her phone. “On the first date?”

You shake your head and take a sip from the eggnog to swallow your feelings. “It wasn’t a date, Hope. It was just breakfast.”

“So a breakfast date,” Hope glares at you with a knowing look. She proceeds to show you a picture of a very young Lance at the Olympics with a gorgeous woman on his arm. “This is Irina. She was a Romanian gymnast.”

Lance must be not older than 21 or 22 in this picture, his hair a little more tousled and his eyes a little wilder. The girl however appears to be somewhat younger, maybe 18 or 19, but she’s got legs to die for and a waistline of a ballerina.

“Do you know how Lance got his nickname, the fucker?” You stare at the blond with open mouth, Hope scoffing at your ignorance. “Oh God…”

“He’s always been a bit of a fuckboy, but he was a sweet fuckboy.” Snorting at Hope’s way of telling this story, she gives you the death glare, your laugh dying out in a tight-lipped smile.

“Parents didn’t give him a lot of attention unless he won another medal, so he searched for attention elsewhere. Girls were throwing themself at him. And Irina, the self-proclaimed princess of gymnastics, found a way to seduce him. They didn’t date for long before she sold the story to the press. Painted Lance as a male slut.”

Warming your hands with the cup of eggnog, you blow away some steam before taking a very big gulp in the hope of diminishing the uneasiness settling in the pit of your stomach. “What exactly did she do?”

Hope stands up from the couch to get some more eggnog and when she returns, she’s holding a newspaper under her arm. “This,” she replies dryly before pushing the newspaper in your hands.

“Lance ‘the fucker’ Tucker.” You read the headline aloud, mumbling some words here and there as you continue to read the rest of the article.

“After the article came out, he lived up to the nickname. It was also a way of avoiding fatherhood.” You sigh softly, finishing the rest of your eggnog with a lump in your throat as Hope tries to get a read on you. “And Irina didn’t want a fuckboy,” she grins a little wickedly. “She just wanted an American passport.”

Hope watches you put down the newspaper again with a sad look in her eyes, her sympathy for you mixed with a sense of responsibility. She feels like she should take care of you, the poor girl that ended up being Lance’s soulmate, but there’s no way she can shield you from the hard truth.

The dress fitting is a day straight from hell. First of all, the stylist that goes by the name OT, is a bitch with little to no patience and a lack of respect for women your size. Her needle somehow always finds a way to sting your sensitive skin, leaving you with red puncture marks all over your arms and legs, torso and heels.

Secondly, Karen keeps going on and on about how you and Lance are now the talk of town and how she overheard her neighbours gush about how cute you look together. Apparently the waitress of the diner you two had breakfast at, couldn’t keep her mouth shut and told half of the town about it. And to make matters worse, Karen’s sister Mimi didn’t how up for the fitting, claiming she didn’t want to be in the same room as you, the traitor.

“You look absolutely gorgeous!,” squeaks Karen once OT has finished up her final touches on your dress. Melinda chimes in and agrees quickly, but the pit in your stomach alerts you that you’re not entirely at ease with how the dress falls over your hips and shows off your breasts. It accentuates your body rather than hide it, like you’re used to doing.

“I don’t know, girls,” you whisper shyly, twirling in front of the mirror. “I don’t know. I love the colour and adore the fabric, but I’m not sure if a dress this expensive….” You try to talk your way out of it, afraid to reveal the real reason why you’re so uncomfortable by saying Karen can’t impossible pay for your dress when it’s definitely not cheap. That would be just too much.

But Melinda reads between the lines and nudges Karen’s arm. “Could you give us a minute, OT?,” Karen then asks the stylist, who just nods and leaves the three of you to it but not without sending a dirty glance your way before closing the door behind her.

“Now, Y/N,” Melinda says while patting the empty seat next to her on the couch. “Tell me what’s really bothering you.”

Sitting down with a deep sigh, you make sure the dress doesn’t hike up too much when you sit down. “I really appreciate what you’re doing for me, Karen. And you too, Melinda.” Both women smile warmly and the redhead’s kind eyes encourage you to speak plainly. “But I think that wearing this dress at the party on New Year’s Eve… it’ll just attract a lot of attention and I’m not sure I want that.”

“Christmas is right around the corner, Y/N, so consider this my early Christmas present,” Karen chuckles as she smooths over your dress. “And about the attention… It’s a theme party, Y/N. Everyone will be dolled up. And you’re a stunning young woman, Y/N. You deserve to feel beautiful and I know that you feel beautiful in this dress.”

“What are you wearing for Christmas Eve, hun?,” Melinda queries as you get up to change back into your normal clothes.

With a little hesitation, you show her a picture of the golden sequined dress you had in mind.

A low whistle slips past Karen’s lips and Melinda smirks in approval. “Lance will certainly appreciate that number. The pink one for New Year’s Eve a little more, but this one is definitely a showstopper as well.”

You swipe your finger on the screen of your phone to leave the app so you can lock your phone again, but unintentionally you swipe to the wrong side, a picture of a sexy red dress popping up on the screen. Karen immediately notices it and steals your phone right from your hands before you can hide it away.

“What’s this, hm?,” Karen coos mischievously. “Preparing for another date with Lance?”

“It wasn’t a date,” you protest while snatching your phone back from Karen, prompting a giggle from Melinda. “And no, this dress I bought just for me. Because I love the way it looks on me.”

“It’s a bit too much to wear to the christening tomorrow, but you can wear it to the cocktail party Ethan’s boss is throwing?”

“Maybe,” you mumble under your breath, hastily throwing on your jacket and following behind your two friends as you exit the shop and say goodbye to OT.

“Will Lance be there?”

You turn around the corner to where you parked your car, fishing out the car keys and coming to a stop right in front of it. Kissing the redhead and blond on their cheek, you promise to call them as soon as you come home to arrange the final details for the christening.

The christening eventually rushes by like a speed train. You were fully in control of your emotions, able to keep a level head around Lance who is still Sofia’s godfather. There isn’t much talking, only the promise of talking before Christmas eve at Karen’s and Ethan’s. And Christmas Eve is there sooner than you can mentally prepare for, your phone buzzing and lighting up with unread messages and unheard voicemails from your soulmate.

This time it’s Lance who says he wants to talk, but this time not at a diner or anywhere else that’s a bit too public. He wants to pick you up at your place and talk during the drive over to the party. And at seven p.m. sharp, Lance knocks on your door.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N,” he breathes out heavily once his eyes land on your full-figured body dressed up in the gold sequined dress you showed to your friends earlier. They were right, it is in fact a showstopper and as Lance gazes at you with lust-blown pupils and his lips parted in astonishment, you must admit you feel quite coveted.

Offering you his arm, he escorts you towards his car like a true gentleman. Opening the door for you, he allows you to sit inside the car first before walking around his car and sliding into the driver’s seat too. As soon as he revs the engine and gets going on the road, you continue to fidget with your hands in your lap until Lance, just like that day in the diner, shifts his hand from the gear stick to place it on top of your sweaty palms.

“Don’t be nervous, sweetheart,” he smiles gently, “You look like a jewel.”

Blushing brightly, you eventually stop playing with your fingers. “So…,” you cough and clear your throat, “We’ve got a lot to talk about, I guess…”

“Yeah,” Lance admits with a breathy laugh, getting a little nervous as well now while keeping his eyes on the road. They occasionally wander to you again and cascade down your cleavage, but he is quick to correct himself and keep the conversation flowing.

“Since we last talked, I got a few things going. I – I called Irina and asked her if it would be possible to fly over with Adriana. That there’s someone I want them to meet.” Lance parks the car across the street from Karen’s house, turning his body towards you as he continues. “I also wrote down some dates that we can take some photographs, if you still want to.”

Lance’s cocky behaviour has made way for a more insecure Lance, eyes pleading with you for a second chance. “Yeah, I still want to.” The lump in your throat is slowly dissolving, but not all doubts have yet vanished into thin air. “But I’m not quite sure about meeting Irina. Lance,” you say as take his hand and squeeze it. “I think you should talk to Irina first before I do.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Lance agrees after some time weighing possibilities in his mind. “Let’s go inside now. I think they’ll be wondering where we are.”

The table is already set with all kinds of delicacies, all the guests dressed to the nines for the occasion. You’re a little worried that Mimi is there, too, but it’s Christmas which is the time for forgiveness, so you don’t pay her any mind, not even when she scoffs and snorts and grimaces at everything you say and do.

Lance however isn’t as accommodating as you are, and Mimi’s performance soon threatens to spoil his good mood. Resting your hand on his upper thigh underneath the table, you glance over at the brunet. He doesn’t react to Mimi’s attempts to lure him out, instead taking the battle in a completely different direction as he gushes about you in the most saccharine tone.

When dinner has been served and finished, Ethan invites everyone over to the living room by the fireplace for a drink. Karen and Ethan are seated in one loveseat, Melinda and Mike take a seat on the large couch while Mimi is forced to sit next to Oliver on one side and the lovebirds on the other as well as across from you and Lance in the second loveseat.

With his signature smirk, Lance throws his arm around your shoulders and hugs you close. A timid smile tugs at your lips when your eyes lock with Karen’s and a knowing grin from ear to ear appears on her face. With a content sigh, a happy atmosphere fills the living room together with the merry spirit that graces Christmas ever year. All is good this way, you allow yourself to believe.

“So Lance, how is training going?,” Mike queries as he takes a sip from his whiskey, passing around the bottle to everyone so they can refill their glass.

“Good, very good actually. I’m going for gold, of course,” Lance boasts about his gymnastic performances and excellent physical shape.

Mimi rolls her eyes at Lance’s comment and shoves Oliver’s side with her elbow, commanding him to move away from her instead of closer to her. “And what about you, Y/N? Any interesting photo journals you might be working on?” Melinda puts the bottle back on the table before returning to Mike’s embrace, sending a cheeky wink your way. “Maybe something to do with gymnastics, too?”

With a dry chuckle you tell them about your project with Lance and how it may relaunch your career as a photographer. “It’s unlike anything I’ve ever done, so it’s a personal challenge for me. And it also gives us the chance to get to know each other a little better.”

“Cool,” Oliver agrees with his brothers, earning the death glare from Mimi.

You all finish your drinks while holding casual conversations until the clock strikes midnight and announces Christmas day. “Time for presents!,” Melinda claps her hands and points toward the Christmas tree.

“Now, you all know how much Karen loves Secret Santa, so I rallied up everyone to participate,” the redhead announces, Karen hugging her shortly in gratitude.

“So let’s start with the first present! It’s for…” the blonde reads the tag and calls out Mimi’s name.

Her younger sister shuffles towards the Christmas tree to accept her present, very excited to see what’s inside. It’s a large box filled with all kinds of make-up, going from lipstick and eyeshadows palettes to more advanced theatre make-up. It is then revealed that Karen was her sister’s secret Santa.

Gifts are exchanged by the dozen, some having purchased more than one present, not just for the secret Santa but for their loved ones as well. Not only did Karen and Melinda both pitch in to get you a dress, they also joined forced to give you a gift certificate for the hairdresser so you can have your hair done for the theme party on Christmas Eve.

Nonetheless, the last remaining present under the Christmas tree is the present from your secret Santa. In lovely red and green wrapping, with a big golden bow on top, this gift is the smallest of all. Yet you don’t exactly mind, it’s not the size but rather the gesture that matters most. Upon opening the small package, you can feel all eyes on you and even hold in your breath in anticipation before the reveal.

And what a marvellous reveal it is. Inside the gift-wrapped box is a smaller, black box that holds the most magnificent golden necklace. It has two charms, one circle with your name engraved on it, and the other a tiny camera with a diamond for a lens. “It’s – It’s -,” you stutter as you’re unable to keep your eyes off the necklace. “It’s the best Christmas present I could’ve wished for. Thank you, secret Santa.”

You scan the room to find out who is your secret Santa, thinking it’s Ethan since you’ve known him the longest. But he just shakes his head with a playful smile and nods over to the brunet sitting next to you, sucking in a deep breath once you figure out it’s him. “You’re my secret Santa, Lance?,” you whisper affectionately, seeing Lance in an entirely new light.

“I am,” he mumbles back, nudging your nose with the tip of his finger as he laughs softly. “A gold necklace for my girl with a heart of gold. You really like it?”

“A gold necklace from a gold medallist. I love it.” Pressing a chaste kiss to Lance’s cheek, you express how happy you are with your present and how much it fills your heart with warmth to know that there is much more to Lance than meets the eye.

Tag list: @melconnor2007 @learisa @mrshopkirk @dont-speak-just-read @buckyappreciationsociety @beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep @lovemarvelousfics @pleasantdreamqueen @petersunderroos @movingonto-betterthings @palaiasaurus64 @ssweet-empowerment @lovemarvelousfics @rrwilson66 @petersunderroos  @reniescarlett   @lostinthoughtsandfeelings @barnes-heaven  @that-sokovian-bastard @abovethesmokestacks @marvelrevival  @marvel-fanfiction @justanotherbuckydevotee @barnes-heaven  @heartmade-writingbucky @buckyywiththegoodhair @captnbarnesrogers @a-little-hell-to-raise @knittingknerdy  @winterboobaer @viollettes @hymnofthevalkyrie  @feelmyroarrrr @justareader @howlingbarnes  @themcuhasruinedme @buchananbarnestrash @hollycornish   @delicatecapnerd @tomhollandzs  @aletheladyinred @xbergiex @promarvelfangirl @capbuckybuchanan @pegasusdragontiger @salty-holographic-stickers  @sebstanchrisevanchickforever19 @autijahnerd13s-blahg @sophiealiice @sarahmatthews7 @lumelgy @kudosia @daringtodreamawake @moonbeambucky @suz-123 @breezy1415 @always-an-evans-addict @thegreentgirl @yourtropegirl @4theluvofall @curvybihufflepuff @caplansteverogers @amrita31199 @isnt-the-blog-youre-looking-for @pineapplebooboo @thefridgeismybestie @supernatural508 @supernaturaldean67 @cant-decide-at-this-moment @mehrmonga @specs15 @kanupps06 @imnotinsanehunny @sarahgracej @jasura @nerdyandproud9 @geeksareunique @jesspfly @badassbaker @whenallsaidanddone

Tag list for all plus size stories: @whatisaheroanyway @ilovebeingjoyful @veronicalei @meganlane84 @thescarsweleave @isaxhorror @lostinthoughtsandfeelings  @evyiione @salamander-falls @taylorjacksonandtheolympians  @jasmineladjevardi @sonofadeanwinchester @marvel-at-bucky @nothin-after-79 @sexy-sea-basss @shesmade0fcandy  @mrs-dr-strange @disneymarina @secondsandstars @brandybucky @princess76179 @metal-armed-dino @marvelsdaughter @beautifulbri26 @allyp1023 @ivannalinaje  @ineffabl-y @tsukuyomi011 @ourdreamsrealized  @toniinhere

[lonelypond]

PhotoJazz, Ch. 2

Love Live, NicoMaki, 3K, 2/4

Summary: We spend the morning in Nico’s apartment. Artistic differences are also present.

Just Your Smile

Maki had been roaming the Northwestern Campus until late, scouting Nico’s list, but had still woken up before her alarm, strangely nervous. And now, here she was, knocking on Nico’s door, three camera bags slung around her, completely uncertain what to expect when that door opened. She closed her eyes, picturing Nico standing in her office, “Nico needs you to be less gay.” Still a demand Maki didn’t know how to process. Nico was attractive, Nico wanted to be seen as attractive, what the hell difference did Maki’s level of gay (high, very high, International Space station high) make to Nico. Maki found herself grumbling and about to kick the ground in front of Nico’s door with her toe. Which would be bad if Nico opened the door at that exact moment and Maki fell into her…

“Nishikino.” Nico’s voice was dry, Maki glanced down, into now familiar depths of ruby, framed by dark, elongated eyelashes. Maki pulled back, frowning, Nico’s lips stop sign red bright, none of the dark pink that laid so well against her skin. Maki found herself evaluating Nico’s clothing choices, demure black skirt, boringly business class pinstripe, white shirt, black ribbon at the neck, peeking out over a striped red sweater. Eyes and lips hit the red theme hard, a bold red that Maki found off putting and over trying.

“You looked better yesterday morning. With no makeup.” Maki announced as Nico stepped aside to allow her entry. Maki got inside Nico’s apartment before what she said registered with the actress.

“What did you say?” Nico’s voice nearly qualified as a shriek.

Maki put her bags down on Nico’s table, unzipping her coat, “You look better without makeup. More natural.”

There was a cough. Someone else in the apartment. Maki looked up, surprised, halfway out of her coat. A small woman stood in Nico’s kitchen.

Nico brushed past Maki, hands open as she approached the kitchen, voice drawling an apology, “I’m so sorry, Mallory. Nozomi left the country and stuck me with some artsy photographer with no social skills.”  Nico turned, keeping between Maki and this Mallory person, eyes narrowed, voice a sharp reprimand, “Maki, this is Mallory, my FAVORITE makeup artist and stylist. Mallory, this is Maki, a jerk.”

Mallory giggled as Nico bounced up and down with ire and indignation. Then, with a huff and a shake of her head at Maki, Nico turned, air kissed Mallory and whispered, “Thanks. Nico loves you. “ Another air kiss. “I can handle it from here. I really appreciate your EXPERTISE.” Maki knew the emphasis was aimed at her.

“Call me if you need anything.” Mallory smiled at Maki, but her voice had no cheer, “I know a few people who can point a camera.”

Nico slapped the counter, chuckling as Maki got redder and redder behind her back. Anger or embarrassment, either would have been trigger enough, but this was both, too potent a cocktail for Maki to handle in a comfortable place. Here, where she’d always felt at least half a step behind, it was impossible to stop the way her heartbeat rocketed and her chest clamped down on her breathing. She tried inhaling, stretching...maybe pulling out a camera. Maki knelt and opened her primary bag as Nico and Mallory whispered their goodbyes at the door.

Nico was back in the kitchen  by the time Maki looked up again, not having acknowledged the presence of the photographer in any way, tying on a cute full apron, pink with scattered cartoon hearts, around her waist. As Maki rose to her feet, favorite camera for interior shots in hand, Nico raised a hand to summon her closer.

“First” Nico’s hands were on her hips, her head tilted forward, her eyes narrowed and so intensely focused on Maki that the redhead felt as if she were an animal trapped in a lab cage, about to be tested, “Nico pulls off ‘girl next door” like you wouldn’t believe and made a pie to prove it.” Maki just stared, and Nico sighed, speaking slowly and deliberately, “Nico is going to open the oven door, pull out the pie, and you, substitute photographer on probation, are going to take pictures.”

Maki nodded, raising her camera, testing the settings, “Got it.”

“Not gay pictures.” Nico added, no wink.

Maki shrugged and licked her lips. Nico sighed again, but smiled at the camera and very deliberately opened the door, slid the pie out, winked at the camera, gracefully and carefully placed the pie in front of Maki’s nose on the counter as Maki clicked the shutter madly, trying to get shots that didn’t capture the steam rising off the crust. The smell of cinnamon and apple and tartly sweet filled Maki’s mouth and her stomach rumbled.

“Nico was going to let you taste the proof, but then you were rude to Nico’s very expensive, award winning makeup artist.” Nico's arms were crossed.

Maki didn’t mean to pout, but the pie smelled so good and her breakfast had been huge mug of coffee and something that was mostly a texture,  flat, tasteless, and crispy. The pie smelled like stacked layers of softly crunchy, melting joy.

Maki had been staring at the pie long enough that Nico tapped her on the hand, “Oh my god, you’re gay for pie too.”

Maki shook her head, swallowing saliva and embarrassment, “Just hungry.”

Nico held up a single finger, “One piece, IF you tell Nico how great she looks.”

Maki twirled a twist of hair, glancing away from Nico’s mischief, “I’ll wait for lunch.”

Nico threw up both hands, “How hard is it to not...”

A knock on the door. Nico frowned, moving to glance through the peephole. ‘Mama?” Nico said in confusion and opened the door.

Taking advantage of Nico’s distraction,  Maki put the camera down, found a fork and stuck it into the pie, eager for a taste. One of her dumber moves as the hot, clinging, filling nearly burnt a hole in her tongue, no taste registering at all, just moist, heavy, hurtful heat. Maki ran to the sink, dropping the pie filling out of her mouth and grabbing anything to put cold water and her tongue in.

“Who’s the girl, Nico? You didn’t tell me you were dating.”

Maki turned her head, blinking, cold water swirling in her mouth...Nico froze for a moment, then picked up the fork Maki had dropped, stabbed the pie with it, snarled at Maki and turned back to her mother, “This is the photographer Nozomi’s wife found me.” Nico glared over her shoulder, “She’s not housebroken.”

Maki spit out the water with a “Hey” but when Nico’s shooting embers of burning lava glare turned in her direction again, she found herself silenced.

“I’m Nico’s mother,” Mrs Yazawa extended her hand. The resemblance between mother and daughter was uncanny, although friendly to Maki apparently didn't pass down the family tree as Nico continued to scowl.

Maki shook it, wanting another cold water rinse to cool the throbbing of her tongue, but unwilling to have Nico accuse her of rudeness again. “Maki Nishikino.”

Nico’s mother tilted her head, “You had an exhibit at University of Illinois’s Gallery 400 last year, didn’t you?”

Nico leaned her elbow on the counter, watching her mother.

Maki nodded, “Yeah, the University wanted to showcase my Urban Fairytales series and highlight the architectural elements.”

“I saw those. It was interesting. I couldn’t decide if you were paying more attention to the buildings or the models.” Her mother looked at Nico, then back at Maki. “And you’re a friend of Nozomi’s?”

“No.” Nico rolled her eyes at Maki’s too definite disclaimer, “Her wife, Eli, is my manager.”

“Well, however you ended up in my daughter’s kitchen, it’s nice to meet you, Maki Nishikino. You obviously have talent. Please take care of Nico.”

Maki managed a mumble of agreement and salute with her camera, flustered by the sincerity of the request.

Nico pulled at her mother’s arm, whining, “Mama. Stop talking to Maki and tell me why you’re here.”

“Cotorou’s school has a half day and Cocoa has a basketball game. So I told him to come him here.”

“You could have texted me.” Nico chided.

“I haven’t seen you in two weeks, Nico. I wanted to know what you were up to,” Nico’s mother flashed another look in Maki’s direction, and the redhead nearly choked on the water she was swirling in her still burning mouth.

“Nico is doing the photoshoot she set up with Nozomi, but with Maki…” Nico worried the hem of her apron, biting her lip and meeting Maki’s glance, “You are okay with children right?”

Maki mumbled a question through another mouthful of water, “Huh?”

“My brother Cotorou is 12 and he’ll be spending the day with us. You don’t have a problem with that do you?”

Two sets of ruby lasers shrewdly watched every twitch of her face. Maki spit the water into the sink, smiled as kindly as she could and cheated, “I spend a lot of time with Eli’s little sister.” She really hoped Nico hadn’t met Alisa and wouldn’t know that the younger Ayase was 25 and went clubbing with Maki. “I’m gre...goo...okay with children.”

Nico snorted, not pressing the point, “It’ll be fine, Mama. We’re only going to Evanston. We can drop him off before we head to Chicago for the night shoots. Cocoa should be home by then.”

“All right, I’ll leave you to it, Nico.” Nico’s mom pulled her into a hug, “Nice to meet you, Maki. I look forward to seeing how my daughter ranks against Northwestern’s architecture.”

Maki blushed and Nico shouted, pushing her mother toward the door, “Go to work, Mama. Stop harassing Nico.”

Maki forced herself to take the shots, hating how artificial Nico looked. Sure, grown up, but for someone who had lectured Maki about not turning her into an ADULT film star, Nico needed a few lessons in how to do subtle maturity. This wasn’t even sexy, Maki could have maybe made it tacky provocative, but what Nico wanted was charming and attractive and what Nico was getting was glossy.

Maki stopped, deliberately placing her camera down. They were shooting Nico looking at magazines to fill the time until her brother arrived from school. Maki couldn’t take it anymore. Nico’s lips and mascara were as shiny as the paper the magazine was printed on and Maki could no longer bear trying to find the best angle for expressions that looked printed on a face which if stripped bare of decoration would have been breathtaking. Nico quirked an eyebrow at Maki’s cessation of activity.

“Please just wash your face and do simple, normal makeup.” Maki didn’t realize how tired exasperation was going to make her sound. They’d only been working for two hours, it was going to be a long day. ”The red is too bold for every day. Try pink. Blush. Rose. Something sheer.”

Nico placed the magazine down, crossed her right leg over her left and tapped her fingers on the arm of the sofa, “Nico is a star.”

Maki dropped into a crouch, her head colliding with the sofa arm opposite Nico, arms hanging over, trying wheedling in her smoothest voice, “I could make you look so pretty.”

Suddenly hands were on her arms and Maki glanced up, startled to see a Nico who had crawled down the couch to loom over her, “Nico ALREADY looks pretty.”

“Made up pretty.” Maki frowned, “You must know you have a dream profile, why not use subtle shading and colors to bring that out, instead of slathering on layers of…” Maki shuddered, “plastICKY.”

Nico shoved back, to her knees, still looming fiercely over the taller photographer, who was glad for the bulwark of the couch arm, “You’ve got nerve, Nishikino.”

Maki closed her eyes, shaking her head, “I don’t shoot pictures I don’t want.”

“You just don’t want to shoot pictures of Nico. She doesn’t rate your nearly nude wall collection.”

“I wouldn’t MIND shooting pictures of Nico if she were nearly nude.” And when had Maki gotten to shouting and how red could Nico get and did the way Nico was coiling like a spring mean Maki was going to die soon or hear her favorite camera being crushed to pieces? And what had she just said?

“What do you mean, I told you…” Nico sputtered, swaying, unsure where to direct her anger and confusion.

Maki stood, camera in hand, her voice again trying for smooth and persuasive. “All I mean is I don’t enjoy shooting pictures of your makeup.”

There was a silence, Nico’s eyes, puzzled and searching, held Maki’s.

“Pppppfffffffhhhhhhh” Nico dropped back into a sitting position.

Nico had disappeared into her bedroom. Maki was on the couch, wondering exactly what oddness was going to happen next, what the little brother was like, did she have anything to talk about with a 12 year old, would Nico notice if she ate a piece of pie now that it was presumably cool enough not to burn a hole in her tongue...pie. Maki put down the camera, rose QUIETLY off the sofa and snuck into the kitchen, removing the fork Nico had stabbed the pie with and prying out a large chunk.  This time the pie melted on her tongue instead of assaulting it, tender flaky crust dissolving and leaving a lightly sharp, cinnamony sweetness to kiss the inside of her mouth. Eyes wide, Maki swallowed and grabbed another bite. It was worth it if Nico went ballistic, this was 3 Michelin stars of heavenly.

Nico came out of her bedroom in a short, pink sweater dress, ruby eyes now the highlight of her face, lips a dark pink. Nico glanced suspiciously at the pie and Maki hastily swallowed, trying not to cough or choke.

“I didn’t change for you,” Nico announced, “It’ll be easier to keep up with Cotorou in this.” Nico’s expression dared Maki to comment.

Maki nodded, “Makes sense. That’s a lovely dress.”

Nico’s expressions changed at hyperspeed and Maki watched fascinated as Nico seemed to nearly say things out loud, but kept hesitating. Then suddenly, she glanced down, took a deep breath, and blurted. “There’s a half and hour before Cotorou gets here. What would you do if Nico let you...”

Maki found herself nodding, pouring a glass of water to have a second to think as Nico tensed for battle, but Maki could sense the nervousness behind the facade this time. She leaned on the counter, eyes locked on Nico’s. “I can do anything I want with the photos?”

Nico crossed her arms, lips pursed in a not encouraging fashion, considering. “Only my face and if you use any of the photos, Nico can’t be recognizable.” She held out her hand, “You can’t use my name.”

Maki tilted her head, shoving the fork back in the pie. Nico clucked her tongue the the action, but then Maki took her hand to shake it and they both paused at the surge of warmth as their palms were pulled together, soft skin tingling at the mutual contact, “All right.”

Nico leaned against the counter, “Show Nico what you can do.”

Maki had spent 15 minutes setting up her portable blue screen and lights, setting Nico down opposite the largest window in the apartment. Now, was the difficult part, as she had to convince Nico this wasn’t just some creeper strategy. Maki started to fumble with her camera and Nico’s attention was drawn to her hands.

“You’re running out of time, Nishikino.” Nico pointed a thumb at her phone, running down a clock.

Maki steeled herself, willing her voice not to tremble from nervousness, “Please just sit still for five minutes wh...while I really look at you.” Nico frowned as Maki knelt in front of Nico, staring, moving carefully around Nico, rising to a half crouch so she was directly in front of Nico’s face, Nico’s breath a minty distraction, Maki almost certain she was holding her own as if the subject in front of her were so fragile that she could be scattered on the slightest wind.

“Ma..” Nico started, but Maki shook her head and the actress quietened in the face of the redhead’s intensity. The violet eyes looked through and around Nico, ticking off every detail, then Maki swept to the side, grabbed her camera and became a flurry of motion, surrounding Nico, not settling for zoom, bringing her lens so close to Nico’s skin, Nico could feel the metal.

“Close your eyes,” Maki whispered, so softly, and Nico obeyed, unleashing another flurry of motion, Maki thought Nico was leaning in the direction she imagined the photographer to be, her face twitching slightly as she registered sounds and proximity. Maki grinned, desperate to capture each new quirk of those petal lips, challenging herself to find new angles out of impossibly small changes, barely stopping herself from resting her head in Nico’s lap so she could shoot from there, settling for a steeper angle as she laid full out on the floor, gradually rising, making sure the Fuji was captured the pale skin tone, the way the pinks warmed and highlighted the natural topography of Nico’s lips.

Maki thought it was almost like a caress, each sweep of the camera, each slice of Nico saved to be savored later, each angle...which would be the best?

“Open your eyes, Nico.” Another whisper and Nico did and there she was, startled at Maki, right in front of her nose, Maki, who was staring as if at a wonder, “Smile.” And Nico did, a slight, dear smile, tinged with bemused, casual affection.

One last shutter click and the timer rang. Maki dropped her camera arm to the side, bowing deeply, “Thank you.”

Nico stepped forward, and Maki stared down, into curious eyes, wondering why this felt different now, without the camera as a chaperone.

“Hey Sis!” the door banged opened, Maki’s heart jumped, and a mini clone of Nico stepped into the apartment.

Little brothers.

A/N: Here's something fun for you to read on the Internet today. I tweaked Cotorou's age a bit and there will probably be at least one more chapter than I expected (raise your hand if you guessed that).  Casual Lunacy progress is slow but happening, I have a Merry Wives of Windsor cast, I want to scrawl/paint "Stonewall Was A Riot" on some article of clothing, and the weather is finally warming slightly. Have been taking photos of my roses, the colors are glorious.I'm glad you're here. Take care!

[fireladybuckley]

Sanvers Week - Day 5 - Domestic

Summary:  Maggie cooks Alex a delicious meal after a long day at work Word Count: 1963 Tags: @outside-the-government @littlecarowrites @secretgaygentdanvers @queercapwriting @whatif-animagineblog @auduna-druitt @star-trekkin-across-theuniverse@stormsnevercometostay @southernbellestatues Author’s note:    What’s more domestic than cooking for each other and snuggling on the couch? <3

               “Ugh, that was the longest day of my life,” Alex groaned as she closed the door to her apartment behind her, dropping her keys onto the hook by the door.  Halfway through the motions of shrugging off her leather jacket, she paused to sniff the air.  “Oh my god, did you cook?”  Alex’s stomach snarled ferociously as the wonderful scent of onions, peppers and other ingredients floated around her.  

                “I sure did, Danvers,” Maggie replied with her back to Alex, adding some spices to the pan in front of her.  “You deserve a nutritious, home-cooked meal and Lord knows you wouldn’t manage to make anything this delicious yourself.” Maggie turned to grin cheekily at Alex as she said this, and Alex put on a face of mock indignation as Maggie turned back to the stove.  Alex noted that Maggie was wearing a pair of Alex’s boxers and a baggy t-shirt and she felt her heart squeeze with happiness as she always did when Maggie stole her clothes.

              “Hey! I can cook just fine,” Alex protested, her tone indignant but mingled with amusement. “Just because I get distracted and burn things doesn’t mean I can’t make stuff that tastes good.” Alex tossed her jacket onto a stool and wandered into the kitchen as Maggie laughed again, stopping behind Maggie and inhaling the aromatic steam rising from the pan in front of her girlfriend.  “Mmmm, that smells delicious.”   Alex wrapped her arms around Maggie’s middle from behind and rested her chin on Maggie’s shoulder, pressing the front of her body up against Maggie’s back.  Alex buried her nose in Maggie’s neck, nuzzling her, and sniffed, inhaling the scent of Maggie’s skin and the faint traces of a body spray she’d used earlier in the day.  “And so do you.”

                Maggie smiled and leaned back a bit into Alex’s embrace, though her eyes never left the pan in front of her.  Alex looked around, still holding Maggie from behind, and noticed some tortillas and two bowls of shredded cheese (one regular, one vegan) nearby on the counter, clearly parts of a whole waiting to be combined with the cooked ingredients.  Alex let out a noise of longing as she realized what Maggie was preparing, and Maggie chuckled, stirring the ingredients in the pan and sending another cloud of deliciously-scented steam skyward.

                “Yes, I’m making rainbow burritos, your favourite,” Maggie said indulgently, turning her head to kiss Alex on the side of the cheek.  “Go get changed, they’ll be ready soon.”

                “You’re my favourite,” Alex told Maggie, squeezing her from behind and prompting a small squeak of protest from her.  Alex kissed Maggie’s cheek and let go of her girlfriend, heading into the bedroom and began undressing, unbuckling her holsters and hanging them up, then stripping out of her black catsuit and undergarments.  She decided to also go with the boxers and t-shirt look, opting for comfort over anything else after her exhausting day.  

              By the time she’d returned to the kitchen, Maggie had moved the steaming pan to a hot pad on the counter and was starting to assemble the burritos.  Alex crossed to the fridge and took out a bottle of wine and poured them each a glass, putting Maggie’s down near the stove. Alex hopped onto a stool and watched, trying to stop herself from drooling, as Maggie spooned the hot veggie, sweet potato and bean mixture onto the tortillas, added sliced avocado and shredded cheese before expertly rolling them up and tossing them onto the stovetop grill.

                “So, how was work?” Alex asked, taking a sip of the wine and letting it sit on her tongue for a moment, enjoying the flavour.  She reached forwards to attempt to sneak some of the real cheese as Maggie turned her back for a moment.

                “Oh, standard day,” Maggie shrugged as she turned back to continue her burrito-stuffing, smacking Alex’s hand to stop her stealing the cheese. “Booked a couple of idiots for a break and enter in broad daylight on a main street, nothing overly exciting. You?”

                “Oh, just the same old, I guess,” Alex sighed, rubbing the back of her hand and pouting, pretending to be hurt - Maggie rolled her eyes, not buying it.  “We have an extremely stubborn prisoner right now and literally all of us have attempted to question him without a single word from him.  Even Winn and James had a shot, but nope, absolutely nothing.” Alex rubbed her temples, feeling the frustration of the day flare up inside of her briefly before she took a few deep breaths, trying to centre herself and bring her focus back to the moment, with her beautiful girlfriend right here, making her a wonderful dinner.

                “Ah, those are the worst,” Maggie agreed sympathetically, turning the burritos already on the grill to reveal perfect golden brown grill-marks on the finished sides.  Alex’s stomach roared with desire and she rubbed it, a bit embarrassed, as Maggie turned back with her eyebrow raised, having clearly heard Alex’s protesting stomach.

                “I kinda forgot to eat lunch,” Alex admitted, withering slightly under Maggie’s disapproving gaze.  

                “I knew it.  Alex, you have to remember to eat while you’re at work, no wonder you’re always starving when you get home.”  Maggie shook her head, taking a sip of her own wine and leaning on the counter, peering at Alex with a frown.  

                “I know, I know.  I’m sorry.  I did have a granola bar just after I called you earlier though!”  Alex’s voice was pleading, but Maggie shook her head again.

                “That was at ten AM, Danvers.  Y’know-” Maggie glanced at the clock, “-nine hours ago? That doesn’t count.”

                “Totally counts,” Alex mumbled under her breath, taking another sip of her wine, widening her eyes innocently as Maggie raised an eyebrow at her again.

                “What was that, Danvers?”  Maggie asked, her tone a playful warning.

                “Nothing, nothing at all,” Alex said hurriedly with an innocent smile, grinning as Maggie set down her wine and started towards her. “No!  Don’t do it!” Alex spun her stool to face Maggie so her legs were in front of her as Maggie advanced, holding her hands out threateningly. Maggie pounced, her fingers immediately finding that softest spot on Alex’s lower belly, making Alex shriek and bat her hands away, giggling.  “Alright, alright, you’re right!  I’m sorry!” Alex yelped, fighting off Maggie’s tickles by grabbing her wrists and holding them still.  Maggie smirked triumphantly at her, though ruined the air of victory somewhat as she attempted to wriggle her hands free from Alex’s grip and failed.

                “Damn straight I’m right,” Maggie said smugly.   “Now let go, I gotta finish dinner.”

                “Not before you kiss me,” Alex said, tugging Maggie closer by her wrists.  Maggie offered no resistance and Alex’s eyes closed as she leaned forward and their lips met, shooting sparks of pleasure and happiness through her.  Maggie’s kiss was sweet as ever, and Alex let go of her girlfriend’s wrists, letting her hands trail up Maggie’s arms until they reached her shoulders.  Alex rested her fingers gently on either side of Maggie’s neck, smiling into the kiss when she felt Maggie shiver in response to the touch.  The kiss deepened for several wonderful moments before Maggie pulled away, leaving them both pleased and breathless but longing for more. Alex could tell that Maggie had only broken the kiss reluctantly, and Alex slipped an arm around Maggie’s waist, keeping her close.

                “I have to finish dinner,” Maggie protested, as Alex squeezed her around the middle again. Alex didn’t release her, instead smiling impishly at her.  “Let go,” Maggie said, shaking her head, trying to hide her amusement.  When Alex still didn’t relent, Maggie pulled out the big guns.  “Danvers, if you don’t let me get back to dinner, it’s going to look like you were the one cooking, okay?”

                “Hey!” Offended, Alex released Maggie, who immediately scurried back into the kitchen and began removing the burritos from the grill. “Burn a couple of things and you’ll never hear the end of it…” Alex grumbled to herself, taking another sip of wine as Maggie sighed with relief; the tortillas were grilled to perfection, likely just seconds away from starting the descent into burning.   Alex got up and got them each a glass of water to go with the food, still muttering a little under her breath as she sat back down. Maggie chuckled at Alex’s grumbles and set a burrito for each of them on a plate, sliced in half, adding a dollop of salsa and sour cream,  and sliding one of the plates across the counter to Alex.

                Her mild offense melting as the smell of the food hit her like a freight train, Alex picked up one of the halves, dipped it in the sour cream and immediately crammed it into her mouth, taking a huge bite.  Barely a moment later, she gasped from the heat and dropped the burrito back onto her plate, fanning her mouth a little frantically and chewing rapidly as Maggie watched, shaking her head.

                “Maybe let them cool for a minute or three,” Maggie commented, stifling a laugh as Alex swallowed with difficulty and took a gulp of the cold water, sighing as it soothed the scalded interior of her mouth.  

                “They’re so good though,” Alex groaned, though she forced herself to let the food cool for a few minutes before starting over.  She inhaled the first half of her burrito, moaning in pleasure as Maggie watched, laughing.  

                “I’m glad you love my cooking so much,” Maggie said, obviously pleased by Alex’s reaction.

                “So.  Good.” Alex let out a sigh of happiness, took another sip of wine and began to devour the other half of the burrito. Alex went into the kitchen and retrieved a second burrito before Maggie had even finished half of her first, though Alex began slowing down considerably after a few bites.

                “That was amazing, thank you so much, Maggie,” Alex said a few minutes later as she sighed in satisfaction.  

                “You’re welcome,” Maggie said, chuckling at the look of satiation on Alex’s face as they began to tidy up the dishes and put away the leftover burritos.  Alex was already looking forward to bringing one to the DEO for lunch the next day and making everyone jealous.  Maggie loaded the dishwasher while Alex wiped the counter, then they converged as though by silent agreement in the middle of the kitchen.  Maggie wrapped her arms around Alex’s waist as Alex extended her arms and rested her forearms on Maggie’s shoulders, threading her hands into Maggie’s hair.  They leant together and kissed again, their noses brushing, Alex shivering this time as Maggie trailed her fingers lightly up Alex’s spine.

                “Want to watch a movie?” Maggie asked as the kiss breaks, though they stayed close together, their foreheads touching.  

                “Sure, as long as I get lots of snuggle time,” Alex murmured, leaning forward to bump her nose against Maggie’s.

                “Deal.”  Maggie took Alex’s hand and led her into the living room, flopping down on the short end of the L shaped couch and getting herself comfortable.  Maggie then extended her arm and beckoned to Alex, who smiled and sat down beside Maggie, snuggling close against her.  Maggie tossed a blanket over their laps and reached for the remote, turning the TV on and navigating to the movie listings. After a brief argument over which movie to put on, they began to watch.  Before the end of the movie, Alex had dozed off, her head on Maggie’s chest, her breathing light and even.  Maggie stroked Alex’s hair without waking her for a while, before she, too, fell asleep, her cheek pressed into the top of Alex’s hair, the movie ending and rolling credits without either of their notice.

[wasabi-duck]

oasis

park jimin - 2242

jimin likes you. okay, scratch that, jimin is enamored with you. he knows it. his boss, seokjin knows it. his coworker, namjoon knows it. his best friends, taehyung and jeongguk know it. even some of the regulars (hoseok and yoongi, right?), know it. everyone but you is painfully aware to the fact jimin has fallen head over heels in love with you. he's obvious. seokjin often jokingly complains that jimin spends more time paying attention to you, than he does to his orders. taehyung and jeongguk whine of his incessant ramblings about you, from your hair, your voice, your smile. even hoseok and yoongi teasingly mention your name when jimin hands them over their steaming hot cups of tea.

you meander into the quaint little cafe every wednesday afternoon. you once told jimin that wednesday is your day off from work, and the only day of the week you feel that you can dedicate to yourself, save maybe sunday. but the cafe is closed on sunday, and jimin remembers the way you smiled when you said, “well my day wouldn’t be that great if i couldn’t see all of you, would it?” jimin likes to think that you included him in this statement, but part of him hopes that you were secretly only referring to him. he blushes at the memory, snapping himself from his thoughts when seokjin calls his name.

it’s a wednesday today, a dreary one if anything. outside the rain slams against the earth violently, and ashy clouds block the sun from view. despite the soft hum of the radio, jimin can only seem to focus on the rain, and how it pounds against the roof, as if demanding to be let in. even the amiable chat of the handful of customers enjoying their caffeine isn’t enough to distract jimin from mother nature. he wonders if you’ll come in today; you do bike after all, and this weather isn’t ideal for that sort of thing. with a sigh, jimin rests his hand on his chin, glancing out the window to his left just in case. all he sees are drops of rain racing down the glass, swallowing each other up and consequently growing in size. for a moment, jimin is taken back to his childhood, when he would watch the droplets chase each other on the car window as his mother drove him to grade school. now isn’t a time to reminisce thought. he has things to do, coffees to brew, tips to check, counters to clean.

jimin pulls his sweater up on his shoulders, suddenly flustered at the sun-kissed skin peeking through. he ducks his head to hide his growing blush; how much more embarrassed he would be if you were here! laughing under his breath, he readjusts his apron, nimble fingers tying a neat bow on the small of his back. everyday, he thanks the gods that seokjin is lenient with their uniforms. despite the heat emitting from not only the various drinks, but also the kitchen only about thirty feet away from the counter, jimin constantly finds himself cold, and constantly dresses in sweaters, beanies, and even, the occasional scarf. today, his sweater is black, and white, with thick, horizontal stripes. jeongguk bought this for him for his last birthday, and jimin wears when he’s feeling exceptionally cold and in need of some love. his black beanie is neatly packed away in the cabinet behind him.

jimin sighs again. he's used to spending his wednesday debating whether or not he should finally conquer his fears and give you his number. he likes the way his heart races whenever you enter the building, the way he becomes acutely aware of everything he is doing, the way he finds himself constantly smiling simply because of you. he is bored without you here. earlier in his shift, jimin convinced himself that today would be the day he finally did it, but maybe destiny is trying to tell him something.

“don't think like that…” he mumbles to himself, a pout tugging on his full bottom lip. “you're going to make yourself even more upset…”

“are you talking to yourself again?” namjoon asks, sticking his head out from the kitchen doorframe. “ you're just thinking…oh, i get it now.” a knowing smirk graces his sharp features, and he laughs.

jimin glows red, hiding his face behind his hands and shaking his head profusely. “no no, it's not like that, really i swear it isn't! i just, just-”

the bell above the door jingles, snapping jimin from his ranting. he glances to his left. he gulps, his eyes widening and his lips parting slightly. there you stand, soaked to the bone, your hair drooping in your eyes, and your clothes cling to your frame. you hug your arms to your chest, inhaling sharply. you peek around the room, smiling and waving brightly when you spot jimin. namjoon snickers, but soon heads back into the kitchen, leaving jimin absolutely alone. his face reddens when you acknowledge his presence, and his cheeks only heat up more when your smile grows. you look like an angel, a beautiful, perfect angel, and jimin can already feel his heart starting to race.

but then his brain starts to work again, and he realizes that you must be freezing half to death like this. quickly, he races out from behind the counter, paper towels and his heavy sweatshirt in hand. you laugh at his valiant efforts to save you from dying, and offer him yet another soft smile. jimin returns the gesture, though refuses to make eye contact after that, afraid that looking at you will cause his heart to rip straight out of his chest. without a word, he hands you the paper towels, hoping that somehow they can be of use. you ring your hair out, dry off your hands, begin to dab with your face with the towels. jimin raises a hand to help, but then remembers that you two are practically strangers, and that doing anything would be creepy… right?

from the doorway to the kitchen, jin and namjoon watch in amusement. they murmur excitedly amongst themselves, enamored with the scene playing out before their eyes. jin leans over and whispers something into namjoon’s ear, and the younger smiles wickedly. the two of them scurry back into the kitchen, pen and napkin in hand.

“is this helping?” jimin breathes, brushing the hair from his eyes nervously. “oh uh, here-”

he shoves his heavy black hoodie in your face, his face scarlet. he bites down on his lip, hard, shoving his free hand into his pocket. your eyebrows raise curiously, but you take the sweatshirt from him. a gentle “thank you” escapes your lips before you turn on your heel, intent on making your way to the bathrooms. without thinking, jimin tugs on your sleeve. his own actions surprise him though, and he immediately starts to ramble off apologies. you shake your head though. sheepishly, you bite down on your lip, “yes?”

“i um…” jimin takes a deep breath. “i’ll have a hot chocolate waiting for you when you get out. extra whipped cream. on me.”

your eyes widen in pleasant surprise, and a smile brighter than the sun graces your lips, causing jimin to blush yet again. suddenly embarrassed, he hurries back to his post behind the counter. you giggle. soon though, you make your way into the bathroom, tired of your soaking clothes. when you come out a few minutes later, jimin’s sweater hangs down to your knees, and your shirt and own jacket lay neatly folded in your arms.

jimin just about has a heart attack.

his knees shake and his mind races. is it hot in here? why can’t he breathe? was the room always spinning like this? he holds a hand to his forehead and leans against the back counter. this is a mess. he is a mess. you look too good in his sweatshirts and jimin isn’t ready to have this image commited to memory just yet. not when you two aren’t dating, hell, not when you two don’t even talk outside the cafe.

jin and namjoon are dead set on changing that though. out from the kitchen seokjin meanders, coy smile on his lips, fresh chocolate chip muffin and napkin in hand. jimin thinks nothing of it, and that’s his first mistake. with the same suspicious smile on his lips, jin takes the mug of hot chocolate off the counter. jimin lets him too. he doesn’t want to embarrass himself again, and so he thinks it’s better that jin handles your order today. jin is good with customers anyhow. jimin pouts and crosses his arms over his chest, starting to feel self-conscious about himself.

he’s so absorbed in sulking, he doesn’t catch you checking him out from your little table for two. you sigh, and rest your head on your hand. you’ve been pining after jimin for months now, and he’s the sole reason you ventured to the cafe in the rain, but sometimes you wonder if it’s worth it. on days like this, when jimin smiles and blushes and his hands brush over yours, you think that maybe, just maybe, you two might have a spark. but neither of you have ever done any sort of confessing, and you think maybe that it’s all in your head. knowing your luck, jimin is already dating; why wouldn’t he be? he’s handsome yet cute, sweet and selfless, shy but in a lovable way. anyone would be lucky to have him.

luck never seems to be on your side.

but who needs luck when seokjin exists? the said male is in the process of the ultimate match making scheme, that of which you and jimin are both oblivious too. jin comes over to your table, sets the hot chocolate down, along with the muffin too. he winks your way, and you flush, because that wink looked cheeky if anything, you don’t have time to think about it though, instead wondering where the muffin came from.

“um, excuse me, i didn’t-”

“on the house.” jin smiles sickeningly sweet.

you blink. he smiles wider. you give a confused sort of nod, then take an awkward sip of your drink, seokjin doesn’t want to seem to leave, but namjoon yells about burnt pastries from the kitchen, and soon seokjin vanishes from your sight. you watch him go, only to discover jimin staring at you, gnawing at his bottom lip, eyes narrowed. he looks pissed to say the least, and you can’t help but wonder: is he jealous? the thought causes heat to spread throughout your body, so you quickly find an interest in your drink. lots of whip cream. just how you like it.

    the whip cream decorates your face like mustache after only a few sips, so you grab your napkin to clean your face. however, you don’t realize the writing scrawled out in blue ink, and you wipe your face off. the ink doesn’t mix well with the raindrops you never managed to dry off, and when you pull the napkin away, a giant blue smudge appears on your cheek. jimin’s eyes widen at the sight, and soon he begins to giggle, unable to tear his eyes away from you. self-consciously, you raise a hand to your face, wiping off the same spot again with the napkin. this only causes the blotch to grow.

    jimin scrambles over to you. he leans down. gets in your face, makes you back against the wall. he only giggles harder, leaning in close, closer, and you think maybe, just maybe, he’s going to kiss your lips and-

    “hey wait a second…” his brows furrow. “that’s my number on your cheek!”

    although smudged, jimin can make out the digits to his cell. slowly, he pulls away from you, shaking his head and smiling just a bit. you stare up at him, obviously confused. but then, then it clicks, and suddenly you’re stammering out apologies, thinking that somehow or another the elaborate set-up must be your fault. jimin shakes his head and puts his finger to your lips, mumbling a soft “you’re fine”, before grabbing a clean napkin off the table behind your own. gently, gingerly, he begins to wipe the ink off your face, his merely inches from your own. you close your eyes and take a deep breath, your body trembling from his touch. when jimin pulls away, for real this time, your heart sinks into the pits of your stomachs, and you mentally scold yourself from thinking something more would come of this.

    jimin stares down at you, and you stare up at him. your feelings for each other are too obvious to deny, yet too insecure to act upon. jimin chews on his lip again; you play with the strings of his sweaters. it’s as if time is frozen, stopped completely, and it refuses to start again until one of you ends this cycle of unsaid feelings.

    jimin takes a deep breath. he’s been waiting for a chance, and here it is. he won’t let it slip through his fingers, not today. “i mean…” he runs a hand through his bangs. “i could always give you my number normally… i mean only if you wanted!”

    your breath hitches in your throat. but he’s beaming, and you’re smiling too, and maybe luck really is on your side. “i think i would really like that actually.”