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possumbylight · 2 years ago

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Rose Colored Goggles

A/N: y’all are so cool for liking and reblogging my last post i love you all. anyway here’s another thing that i have previously posted on my ao3 that i��d like to move over to tumblr as well, hope you enjoy!! ;)

Summary: In which the Knights of Favonius, the Anemo Archon, and the Darknight Hero perform an experiment on the Chief Alchemist, all while missing a crucial element that’s hidden in plain sight.

Warnings: None I don’t think? slight drunkenness but that is expected amongst these folks

Pairings: Albedo/Reader, the knights and others as assorted friends because once again i love writing fics where all the characters get to hang out together

The Angel’s Share on a Tuesday night was not the ideal place for those wishing to maintain any pride they harbored for the famed Knights of Favonius. Should any inquiring minds visit the tavern on that particular night, they might find, to their horror, that the Knights were not windswept heroes of legend, but common drunks who bantered and argued with the bartender until he threw them out by their coattails and reminded them not to puke on the cobblestone outside his fine establishment, so they might not scare other patrons away.

Tuesday night was the least likely night for heavy drinking amongst the Mondstadt population, should there be any night that Mondstadt did not prefer drinking, but it was the most likely time for the Dawn Winery’s master himself to make an appearance behind the bar, and thus an ideal opportunity for certain members of the Knights’ ranks to pay a friendly visit—or rather, bother—Master Diluc until he gripped a wine bottle so tight it threatened to crack.

It was his fault, though, for returning every other Tuesday to be subjected to such nonsense.

“I asked him to describe his ideal woman, of course,” Lisa supplied as the end to her story, sending the knights around her into laughter and groans at the very idea. “Timaeus was so red he could hardly breathe. He looked like a tomato.”

“Oh, poor Timaeus,” Jean lamented, though the other knights hardly shared her sentiments. “You know how flustered he gets, Lisa.”

“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen the Chief Alchemist get flustered,” Kaeya lamented, planting his face in his palm as he leaned heavily on the bar. “Tell me, Albedo, with all the romantic attention you receive, surely someone has managed to make you blush.”

Albedo, barely aware of the conversation at hand but all the same adamant to willfully ignore Kaeya’s salacious suggestion that he was the recipient of any amount of romantic attention, merely furrowed his brow and stared past his cup at something the other knights could not perceive.

“Speaking of romantic attention,” Venti swooned after loudly gulping down the remaining contents of his glass, “a little birdie told me that Donna—”

“Quiet, bard,” Diluc ordered with seething vitriol, but the bard had little regard for Diluc’s discomfort.

“—brought a whole bouquet of flowers to your door the other day. Are you going to send her a thank you? I could write a poem for you to gift her, in exchange for a little off the top of my tab, of course—”

“No, I won’t require your services. And while we’re on the topic of your tab—"

“I don’t believe I am capable of such a thing,” Albedo finally responded, interrupting whatever Diluc had been planning to threaten, much to Venti’s delight but to the confusion of the other knights.

Venti hardly missed a beat, replying, “I’m sure you could write a poem if you tried, Mister Albedo, no one is incapable of making art.”

“No, I am referring to the prior conversation. I don’t believe I am capable of blushing.”

Kaeya’s mouth dropped open as though the alchemist had just shared with him the secrets of life and the universe, but Rosaria maintained a flat aspect, sipping politely at her drink until the commotion from Albedo’s comment settled.

“He’s probably right. I’ve never seen him go red, even in the cold of Dragonspine. If that doesn’t make him flushed, I doubt any foolhardy romantic advances would be able to do it.”

“Though it is true that I bleed when injured, I have yet to study the patterns of my internal blood dispersion beyond its basic course through my heart.”

“Albedo, everyone bleeds when injured. Stop talking like you’re mechanical.”

“Yes, of course,” Albedo agreed with little hesitation before excusing himself from the bar, returning his glass of tap water to the bartender as he wandered off, muttering under his breath about veins and ventricles and all form of scientific babble that the other knights were simply too drunk to process.

“Well, I for one would like to make a bet,” Kaeya announced as soon as the door had clicked shut. “A competition, of sorts. Any takers?”

“I’m in.”

“Venti,” Lisa cooed from beside the bard, startling him as though he hadn’t known she had been there the whole time. “You haven’t even heard the stakes.”

“Yeah, but Kaeya’s fun. And if I can earn a little extra drinking money, then why not?”

“You won’t be drinking until you can pay off your tab,” Diluc reminded. “And knowing Kaeya, it’s a bet in which he’ll have an unfair advantage. He only makes bets he knows he can win.”

“Now, now, Diluc. That’s rather unkind, don’t you think? I don’t have any advantage here, aside from my charm.”

Rosaria scoffed, “Get on with it. What’s the bet?”

“First to find out what makes the alchemist blush gets free drinks every Tuesday night for a month, courtesy of the losers of the bet.”

“I thought we established that he can’t blush.”

“We haven’t established anything. Albedo himself said that he was unsure. So, who’s to say that he doesn’t get flustered at all?”

The group was pensive for a moment, weighing the prospect of putting Albedo in potentially uncomfortable situations when they respectively found him either highly respectable, strange and off-putting, or possibly dangerous given cause. But, one by one, they all silently agreed that the reward was worth the risk, and hummed their approval of Kaeya’s idea.

“I’m in,” Diluc finally spoke aloud, startling the whole bunch.

“Why, Master Diluc, that surprises me. Could it be that you have an unfair advantage here? And tell me this—should you win, however doubtful that outcome may be, do you intend to take advantage of our good nature to buy you free drinks that you won’t even consume?”

“If I win, you’re all giving me a month of peace and quiet. Every Tuesday night, you’re staying home or finding someone else to bother. Go to the Cat’s Tail, I don’t care, just don’t come here.”

“Interesting. I accept the terms of your agreement. Shall we drink to it, then?”

And thus, Albedo was in for the most confusing week of his already strange life.

Jean had hardly been paying attention to the conversation at the bar, and she certainly didn’t have time to be playing into Kaeya’s meddling games, but when the opportunity presented itself, she could hardly pass up the opportunity to save some mora at the Angel’s Share. Albedo was hardly ever at HQ in person, after all.

“Good morning, Albedo,” she greeted, knowing full well that her tone was abnormal as she fought to find a natural way of introducing her theory, but also knowing that Albedo, intelligent beyond reason as he was, was not particularly well-versed in conversation.

“Ah. Good morning, Acting Grand Master. What can I do for you?”

“I was wondering if you could help me find Sucrose. Have you seen her this morning?”

“Sucrose,” Albedo mused aloud as he pressed a hand to his chin in thought. “I have not seen Sucrose for a few days. It is likely she is in her room, studying bones or some other organic matter. If you need to speak with her immediately, I recommend knocking on her door, as it’s unlikely that she will reemerge until the end of the week, at least.”

“Oh. I see. Thank you, Albedo.”

“You’re welcome.”

With that, Albedo continued on his way down the library stairs until he was almost hidden from sight, pulling dusty tomes from ancient corners that hardly anyone but Lisa’s apprentice ever touched. Jean watched as he greeted Lisa's assistant, asking her a question Jean could not discern, and pointing towards a book on the upper shelf.

“Was that your attempt at winning the bet?” Lisa sighed as she emerged from behind her desk. “Oh, dear. You really don’t know much about him at all, do you?”

“Does anyone?”

“That is the question, isn’t it? But I’m far more interested in the little exchange that just occurred. Were you under the impression that Albedo is overly fond of Sucrose?”

“I just wondered. They work so closely together sometimes that I thought perhaps there might be some feelings there.”

“Hmm, no, I don’t believe so. He can be protective of her, the shy little thing, but it’s hardly romantic.”

“Well, what’s your grand plan, then?” Jean asked, defensive of her own tactics even as she realized that she had marvelously failed in plain sight of Lisa. “How do you plan to win the bet?”

“You think I haven’t made anyone blush before?”

“Lisa, please don’t make him uncomfortable. If he resigns, there won’t be anyone qualified to replace him.”

Albedo had thought nothing of the exchange with Jean—it was perfectly reasonable for the Acting Grand Master to inquire about the location of one of her knights—so he had gone about his business in the library and headed straight for the section under the stairs, where he frequently found the most appealing books on the origins of natural species, as well as the librarian’s assistant.

“Good morning, y/n. How are you?” he asked politely, trying not to startle her as she reached up to secure a hefty encyclopedia into its designated spot.

“Good morning, Albedo,” she sighed. As soon as she had settled properly back onto her feet, her hand swept a cloud of dust onto the top of her head which briefly made her cough. “I’m alright, but I think I’ll have to put off my alphabetization of the fiction section until I can finish dusting these shelves.”

“I see. It seems I am alone in my interest of these topics, then?”

“Just about. Sometimes, Cyrus will come in to study for a specific commission, but you’re the only one in the past fifty years who has checked out—” here, she paused, squinting at the title he had returned only a few days prior, “—The Anemo Archon’s Aviary: A Comprehensive Study on Local Wind Patterns, Development of Localized Bird Species, and How Anemo Affects Avian Wildlife.”

“A fascinating read,” he chuckled. “I would recommend it, if you have the time.”

“I’ll put it on my list, but I promised Fischl that I would finish reading that fantasy series she’s been telling me about.”

Just as Albedo was about to agree, perhaps adding some remark about what the prinzessin’s dramatic reaction might be should y/n not heed her decree, the click of Lisa’s heels turned the conversation towards the librarian herself, stepping grandly down the stairs with one hand tracing the banister and the other holding a purple rose.

“Funny seeing you here, Albedo,” Lisa intoned as she swept into the conversation with ease. “Have you come to pester my little assistant again? I’m distraught that you didn’t come to greet me first. How is a lady supposed to feel when a handsome gentleman caller pays her no mind?”

“I apologize, Miss Lisa. In all honesty, I did not realize that you were here.”

“Hmm, you’ve always got your mind on something fascinating, don’t you? I would love to hear all about it, dear, but I do have a question for you, if you don’t care to hear me out.”

“Of course.”

As Albedo turned his attention fully to Lisa in preparation of her inquiries, y/n excused herself with an awkward, pardon me, and returned to replacing all the books on her cart.

Lisa turned over the rose in her hands, allowing Albedo to take it in from all angles as she eased him into light conversation about basic alchemical principles and natural floral phenomena. It wasn’t the conversation that she intended to use to leverage some reaction from him, but her own actions, motivations, and physicality that she hoped might dust his cheeks even the slightest bit red.

“I understand your concern,” Albedo mused, hardly noticing one bit when Lisa began drifting ever closer towards him. “The forests of Sumeru experience dense rain and fog during all seasons, providing the soil with an intense moisture that simply cannot be recreated by any natural climate of Mondstadt. However, many roses of this quality do grow in the temperate hills. If you were to start a garden just outside the Mondstadt gates, I predict that your roses would grow quite well.”

“Interesting.” Lisa swept her hand across the uncovered skin between Albedo’s coat and gloves, skillfully masking the gesture as an accident. “Oh, I’m sorry, sweetie, I didn’t mean to—oh, your skin in marvelously soft, Mister Albedo. How do you manage that in the cold of Dragonspine?”

“Hmm, I am unsure.”

Albedo jotted down a few simple notes for Lisa to take with her— instructions on the best conditions for growing Sumeru roses outside of Sumeru—and pressed onto the next inquiry she had asked of him. She continued running her fingers across the band of skin on his upper arm. When he did not flinch or fluster, she pressed closer.

“Miss Lisa, is there something else I can do for you?”

“Does it make you uncomfortable that I watch while you work?”

“No, not at all. You are free to stay, if you wish. But I may require some measure of concentration.”

“Concentration?” she gasped, eyebrows raised. “You certainly seem like a man with indomitable focus. I wonder, though, what kind of enticing situation might distract a man like you?”

As if to answer her question, he did not respond, fully immersed in his work and entirely shut off to the outside world. Lisa’s ruse went on for at least the next half hour. She would ask a question, often a flirtation disguised as innocent inquiry, and Albedo would respond with genuine interest in her query and not an ounce of heed for her more lascivious intentions.

“How did it go?” Jean asked, more excitable about the whole ordeal than she had meant to be.

“Miserable. The man is made of rock, or steel, or brick. He’s dead to the world.”

“Surely that’s an exaggeration.”

“I tried everything. He had no response for me.”

“Perhaps you’ve lost your charm, Miss Lisa.”

“Don’t push your luck, Acting Grand Master.”

Rosaria wanted to drink, free of charge, and that was the only reason she was doing anything so stupid as trekking through the cold of Dragonspine, up towards Albedo’s lab, Sister Barbara in tow.

“Why would Mister Albedo require my assistance?” Barbara’s teeth chattered as she spoke, and she pulled her arms in close to her chest to bar off the cold. “He has never requested healing before.”

“I don’t know. He just told me to bring you up the mountain with me.”

Rosaria was lying. She was outside of church grounds, so it didn’t really matter how honest she was when Bartobas wasn’t watching. It did, however, give her an uncomfortable chill to know that it was Barbara she was lying to, of all people, the most honest and innocent person ever to stroll under the sunshine of Teyvat. If any of her fan club members were to find out that Rosaria had dragged their precious idol onto a frozen mountain, they would have her head on her own pole.

“Albedo, I brought Barbara,” Rosaria called into the cavern, hoping that if she could be loud and confident enough, both Barbara and Albedo would believe that neither of them were being led astray.

In all reality, Rosaria really hadn’t planned very far ahead. She only knew that when Barbara danced her cute little dance and winked her cute little eye and tilted her cute little head to the side, whomever was on the receiving end of such gestures always went pink in the face.

“Good afternoon, Sister Rosaria, Sister Barbara,” Albedo greeted with a slight pitch of his brow. “If you required my assistance, I could have easily made the journey down to Mondstadt proper. I hope you have not suffered from the cold. Before you return home, please allow me to provide you with a heating potion.”

“No need, Albedo. We won’t be here long.”

“Mister Albedo, Sister Rosaria told me that you need healing,” Barbara announced before Rosaria could fully take control of the situation. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, I appear to be alright. Ah—I suppose you are referring to my arm?” The alchemist lifted his arm to reveal a loosely-tied bandage around his forearm that was beginning to show a patch of crimson bleeding through the white material. “I must have forgotten. I… don’t even remember how this came to be. How did you know?”

“I heard about it.”

“You heard about it? I see. You must have run into y/n. I informed her that I could tend to the wound myself, but it would not surprise me to hear that she would turn to Sister Barbara for help. She was quite worried about the whole ordeal.”

Rosaria quietly gave thanks to Lord Bortibos for his good graces. She didn’t even know who y/n was, but Barbara seemed to recognize the name, nodding as she cheerily made her way over to Albedo to take a look at his arm.

Barbara did her cute little dance, and she sang her cute little song, and she winked her cute little eye, but Albedo’s face remained still as a statue and pale as the snow outside the cavern throughout the entire experience. Rosaria at least felt comforted, somewhat, that if Barbara couldn’t get him to blush, surely no one else would discern any other way to do it. She had exhausted every possible avenue, in her mind, and now, it was time to return to more important business.

Amber and Eula tag-teamed the challenge, but their plot failed as soon as it had started. Amber had laid out their game plan as a subtle, masterful appeal to Albedo’s emotion, but Eula Lawrence was not subtle.

“Albedo. Have you ever cried?”

“I—hmm. Perhaps as a child, Captain Eula. Is there any particular reason you ask?”

“Amber wanted to know.”

“No, I didn’t!” Amber shouted to clear her name. She had wanted to know the answer to that strange and invasive question, but she hadn’t wanted Eula to bring it up so brazenly. “What Eula means is that—”

“What was it that made you cry as a child? Your parents? A childhood bully? If you need vengeance to be extracted—”

“Eula means that we were interested in your upbringing. We didn’t mean to pry, Mister Albedo,” Amber physically stepped in between the two before Eula could threaten any figures from Albedo’s past. “We just don’t know much about you.”

“Ah, I see. There is not much to know.”

“Understandable. Have a nice day, Mister Albedo!”

Amber tugged Eula away by the hand, rattling off all sorts of explanations as to why Eula’s questions had been inappropriate, but Eula saw no real merit to such accusations. If Amber had a question to ask, she should ask, not beat around the bush.

Venti knew that he had the upper hand, because who could possibly resist a love ballad played by the dutiful and skilled hands of the Anemo Archon himself? If Lord Barbatos could not woo the alchemist with his dulcet tones and witty lyricism, then surely nothing else could be done.

“Excuse me, dear y/n, but have you seen Albedo today? I heard that he’s in town, and I’d like to pay him a visit.”

Y/n finished placing the return date card in the back of a freshly returned novel, complete with slight electro elemental traces from Lisa’s famous late fee policy, and eyed Venti up and down, taking in the way the bard’s fingers plucked the air just above the strings of his lyre as if practicing.

“Have you written him a song?” y/n asked, buying time. She had seen Albedo, not five minutes prior, and he had paused his deep and entrancing train of thought to greet her, but she worried that any other distraction would simply bounce off of him like Jean repelling a pyro slime. Even Venti’s greatest masterpiece would go unheard with Albedo in that state.

“I have written a song, and I have the feeling he’ll like it, but I need to try it out first. Have you seen him?”

“Venti, Albedo’s in kind of a mood today.” She winced at the way his countenance dropped entirely at the idea. “I don’t mean that he’s upset or anything. He’s just got his mind on something important, so it might not be the best day for a performance. I’m sorry, Venti, I’m sure he’d love to hear it on any other day.”

“Oh. Well, that’s alright, y/n, thank you for—”

“Y/n, I’ve come across something interesting, and I wonder if you might take a look at it,” Albedo announced as he took great strides down the hallway towards y/n. “The specimen you helped me collect from Starsnatch Cliff has successfully adapted to synthetic photosynthesis. The primary difference to the naked eye seems to be an odd discoloration of the inner petals, but I would appreciate a second opinion, as well as a second set of hands, so that I might extract—oh, hello, Venti. I did not see you there.”

“Well, well, if it isn’t the man of the hour!” Venti announced. He seemed to lift right off of the ground as he bounded towards Albedo with his lyre held aloft, giving a playful strum to the strings. “I was just looking for you, Mister Albedo! Would you be interested in hearing a song that I wrote?”

“Venti, I must apologize, but I am exceedingly busy with an experiment, and I fear—”

“Nonsense! You should always take some time to rest, have a break, enjoy some local entertainment. Come now, sit down. Y/n can listen too, if she’d like.”

Albedo scratched across his forehead with a weary hand before sighing, deciding that humoring the bard would be far easier than prolonging the conversation. His eyes traveled briefly to y/n, who stood awkwardly but graciously smiling between the two. She, at least, seemed interested to hear what Venti had to show for himself, so it couldn’t hurt to rest his feet for a moment, for y/n's sake.

When the song began, Albedo was not overly concerned with the melody or the lyrics or the performance at all, but the more he tuned his ears to really listen to it, the more bemused he became. A love song, of all things, in the middle of the afternoon, in the middle of Knights HQ, in the middle of an experiment he was quite keen to finish. Why had Venti been so enthused about performing this for him right then and there?

The lyrics were well written, if not a bit esoteric to a man quite literally made from chalk, and he could appreciate the artistry of it. It didn’t hold his interest quite as much, however, as y/n, who, by the third or fourth chorus, had picked up the lively tune and began humming it under her breath as she swayed gently in her seat.

“So, how was it?” Venti exclaimed.

“It was pleasant.”

“Y/n, you seemed to enjoy it.”

“I did, thank you, Venti.”

“Well, I’m pleased to hear that you both enjoyed my latest masterpiece. You know, when I wrote it, I—”

Venti’s explanation was cut off when he realized that Albedo had risen to his feet, picking up right where he left off mid-ramble. As he watched the two disappear down the hallway, Venti couldn’t help but think that he had somehow ended up on the right path, just with the wrong motivation and at the wrong time.

If Venti had been close, Kaeya was near right on the mark, if not slightly to the left of a bullseye. He was a master of gathering information, an expert in the field of loosening inhibitions and coaxing secrets from anyone from gossiping servants to high-ranking Fatui officers.

The sweet little librarian’s assistant would be no challenge for him, or so he thought.

“Oh, come now, y/n,” he crooned, leaning conspiratorially across the counter to peer up at her. “Everyone has a weakness. Don’t tell me that Albedo is so composed all the time.”

“A weakness?” she pondered aloud, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation but more uncomfortable with the idea of confronting Kaeya about it. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“No? Don’t you have a weakness, y/n?”

“Do you mean physically, or…? I suppose I’m not very good at using a claymore. I can’t seem to get used to the weight distribution.”

“You’re lucky you’re adorable, y/n. I’m talking about an emotional weakness. What flusters our dear chief alchemist, hmm? What makes him blush?”

“Blush?”

“Yes, blush. Just like you’re doing right now.”

She lifted a hand to her cheek as if to physically try to wipe the red off of her face before Kaeya could make any more untoward comments about it, but he only pressed onward, willfully ignoring her own flustered behavior.

“Why do you ask?” she elected to sidestep his original question with one of her own.

“I’m merely curious. And you two are friends, correct?”

“Um… yes, we are. Captain Kaeya, if you would like to know more about Albedo, I doubt he would be upset if you asked him yourself. He’s not particularly shy, he’s just not… talkative, I suppose.”

“Right,” Kaeya muttered. He hadn’t anticipated that y/n would be straightforward, if not a little coy, about the matter, though he should have guessed. Anyone who was as close to the chief alchemist as she would have to have some similarities in personality. Kaeya couldn’t imagine Albedo befriending anyone garrulous or grandiloquent.

“Is there something else I can help you with?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact. I have a few more questions about Mister Albedo. Nothing too personal of course, just some basic information, if you happen to know the answers.”

“I can try, but again, I’m sure Albedo wouldn’t mind if you asked him yourself.”

“And what if I’m planning some sort of surprise?” Kaeya intoned. Y/n’s brow furrowed at the thought, but Kaeya swooped in to reassure her before she backed out. “Nothing too extreme, of course. A private gift, perhaps. He helped me with a problem I had recently, and I would like to thank him properly. Does he have a favorite color, perhaps?”

Reasonably, Kaeya could do nothing with that shallow information, but if he intended to ask anything beyond surface-level attributes, he was obviously going to have to ease y/n into it with softball questions that wouldn’t raise her hackles.

“He does like blue—that kind of deep blue that’s on his shirt. I wouldn’t say that he necessarily has a favorite, but he does tend to favor colors that aren’t garish.”

“I see, I see. A favorite flower?”

“Cecilias,” y/n answered easily, with a brief smile that Kaeya might have missed had he not been watching her closely. Even though she turned from him to stamp a return date, he could read her honest expression plain as day. “There’s a species of large flower that grows in Sumeru, primarily in open, grassy areas, that he always mentions he would like to see someday, but I wouldn’t say that it’s his favorite. He’s very fond of Cecilias.”

“Interesting. So you two are quite close, then?”

The blush returned to her face, and she cleared her throat before she spoke, “Yes, we’re… close. Albedo is—he’s a good friend of mine. Do you have any other questions?”

“Just a few more, if you would humor me.”

“Of course, Captain Kaeya.”

“Since you work in the library, I’m sure you know—what genre of book does Albedo prefer?”

“Non-fiction, usually.”

“Usually?”

“Almost always some scientific study for an experiment he’s working on. I’ve managed to talk him into reading a few adventure novels, though, and he seemed to enjoy them well enough.”

“Does he read romance novels?”

“No, that’s not something he’s ever expressed interest in.”

“He’s not a romantic?”

She blanched, an interesting reaction, but one he didn’t pay near enough mind to. Y/n appeared to be skirting some issue—she had been honest and gracious in playing along with Kaeya’s questioning, but she shifted her gaze uncomfortably from time to time as if desperate to find an out from certain topics.

She’s shy, he thought to himself as he watched her fingers busy themselves with the fraying edge of a hardback novel. And I am being awfully forward, especially to someone who spends more time around books than people.

“He’s—” she began, then stopped abruptly, trying to rephrase her thoughts, “he’s not typically interested in romance, I suppose. That’s not to say that he’s incapable of… or uninterested in… um, do you have a different question?”

“You think he would be interested in romance, given the right circumstance?”

“Yes, I suppose. That makes sense.”

“Yes. Yes, I suppose it does. Well, thank you for your time, Miss y/n. I apologize for taking up your afternoon with my silly questions.”

“Oh, that’s alright, Captain Kaeya. If you need more help finding a nice gift for Albedo, I’d be happy to help.”

“Thank you, y/n.”

“You thought that he was romantically interested in Sucrose?” Eula scoffed before downing another full glass of something so strong that Jean could smell it several seats down.

“Don’t tell me that your approach was any better, Captain Eula.”

The knights and friends, defeated after a week of attempts at catching the chief alchemist off guard in hopes to catch him blushing, had nearly decided that the man was incapable of going red at all.

“Maybe we should tell him that he can’t blush,” Amber suggested. “He said himself that he wasn’t sure if he was capable of it. I bet he would like to know the answer.”

“But then we would be giving away the game,” Kaeya retorted. “And we need a full mission report before deciding that he’s a lost cause. Lisa, how did you fare?”

“No better than Jean, unfortunately. I gave him just about everything I could without being indecent. He hardly noticed I was there.”

“Rosaria?”

“I called in Barbara. Nothing.”

“Amber?”

“Well, I was going to try something simple, but Eula was a bit too forward about it. We got no results at all from it.”

“Venti?”

“I played him my song.”

“And?”

“He liked it, of course. But he didn’t blush.”

“Well, then, that leaves me, I suppose,” Kaeya sighed. He had saved himself for last, despite having nothing to show for himself. His conversation with y/n had been only slightly illuminating, but nothing he had attempted during his subsequent conversation with Albedo had produced results, and he was ashamed to tell the group as much. “I suppose none of us are getting free drinks, then. A shame, really. I was interested to see the results almost as much as I wanted free liquor.”

“You’re forgetting someone,” Diluc suddenly announced as he stepped lively into the room, taking his place behind the bar with a chipper attitude that was unbecoming of him. The entire group was baffled at his words, and at the smile that graced his usually stern features.

“Oh, Master Diluc, don’t tell me that you’re the one who has actually been successful? Turning someone’s face red with pyro will get you disqualified, you know,” Kaeya intoned, hoping to slightly infuriate the man but only lifting his countenance even more.

“I have proof, and as soon as I show you, I will have an entire month of peace and quiet. If I see even one of you lurking around my tavern on a Tuesday night, I will personally ensure that you never see the inside of this establishment ever again.”

“We all agreed to it, Diluc,” Lisa bargained, leaning over the counter as if Diluc’s proof were hiding behind the bar, just out of sight. “Go ahead and show us, dear, don’t leave us hanging like this.”

“Charles?” Diluc asked.

Charles nodded firmly, “They’re just outside.”

“Good.”

With this, Diluc wordlessly stepped towards the back door, pressing a gloved finger to his mouth to signal that the rest of the group should be quiet. He poised his hand over the doorknob for several agonizing seconds until suddenly and forcefully, he flung the door open, sending the couple on the other side flying apart.

“Barbatos preserve me,” Venti muttered drunkenly, the only one of the group who could speak at the moment.

The sight was startling, but after the initial shock had faded, it became increasingly obvious to all of them precisely how oblivious they all had been in their research. It should have been obvious. There was a common denominator to nearly every respective conversation they had conducted, and it was not a thing or a topic or an action, but a person.

Albedo was behind the door, his face flushed all the way to the tips of his ears as he and y/n sheepishly parted. What they had been doing before the door opened had gone unseen by the bar’s patrons, but they could wager a strong guess based on the way y/n was quick to cover her lips with her hand.

“Oh, my—” Kaeya began. “Well, this is interesting. Why didn’t you two tell us about your little arrangement? I’m sure we all would be quite happy for you.”

“You did not ask,” Albedo replied simply. By the time he stepped in properly through the door, his face had returned to its normal color, though y/n was still the color of an unripe sunsettia.

“And to think, we were all going about it the wrong way.”

“Going about what?”

“These idiots made a bet,” Diluc said, straightforward and stern as he moved towards the front door, preparing to physically toss the knights out by their collars. “And they’ve all lost, so now it’s time to leave. Y/n and Albedo, of course, are free to stay.”

“Oh. Thank you, Diluc,” y/n muttered, half lost in thought. “Wait, is that why everyone was acting like that this past week? You were all trying to get Albedo to… to do what? What were you trying to do?”

Albedo was quick to respond, having connected the dots rather easily, “I see. This is because of our conversation last week, yes? You were performing an experiment to see if I am capable of blushing. And, judging by your expressions, you seem to have gotten a satisfactory answer.”

“Yes,” Diluc interjected. “Goodbye.”

With this, the knights were summarily kicked out of the tavern for the next month, and Diluc was rewarded handsomely with his peace and quiet, for which he was happy to provide the happy couple with a set of drinks, on the house. He did feel a bit uncomfortable, after all, that he had exposed their relationship for the explicit purpose of clearing out his bar.

“Did they make you uncomfortable, y/n?” Albedo asked her quietly after Diluc had disappeared into the back to refresh his ingredients. “If I had known that they might confront you for an answer, I would have asked them to refrain.”

“I’m alright, Bedo. I just hope they didn’t make you uncomfortable, trying to make you blush like that.”

“No, I hardly noticed. I do commend their dedication to their experiment, however. I hope their results were satisfactory.”

“Hmm, I guess so. But if they wanted to know if you’re capable of blushing, they could have just asked me outright. I’ve seen you blush plenty of times.”

“Have you really?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Fascinating. When does this happen?”

“Well—different times, I guess, but… most of the time, when I kiss you, you turn red.”

“I would like a demonstration, if you don’t mind.”

She was happy to provide.

#albedo x reader #albedo imagine #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagine #if you read this far i love you #also i love making up fake book names #it was call of the ocean void and now the anemo archons aviary #i just love coming up with fake book titles what does that say about me

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years ago

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I.R.L.📷2

Warnings: noncon sexual acts and rape, voyeurism/exhibitionism, slight stalking, masturbation, naughty talk.

This is dark!(camboy!)Andy Barber. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your guilty pleasures becomes and all too real terror.

Note: Okay, here’s the second and last part of this short little piece. Thanks for reading and the excitement. I’m sorry if I’m a bit blegh rn.

Thank you so much for your patience! And support!!

As always, if you are so inclined, please like, reblog, and comment. <3

Andy stared at the chat. He waited and waited but the green dot didn’t pop up. Maybe she was freaked out after meeting him. Or maybe she was over him. Her name hadn’t blipped up in any of his sessions in the last week and he even invited her to an impromptu private show after he got back from the café. He hoped her seeing him might nudge her but it only seemed to scare the fuck out of her.

He recalled how she nearly fell on her face running away from him. That wasn’t the reaction he was expecting. No preening or smiles, just terror and a quick escape. He didn’t understand. He was a good looking guy and she was obviously lonely. Hell, she was cute too. He was hardly disappointed.

He waited another fifteen minutes, distracting himself with the colour matching game on his phone but her status remained inactive. He scrolled through his bookmarks and clicked on her insta profile. She had commented on some DIY tutorials in the last hour but hadn’t posted. She only ever added pictures of flowers anyway; her last photo of herself was from a year ago. It was her and some guy but he could guess they were no longer together.

He was starting to get upset. She was ignoring him. He wasn’t stupid but what had he done? Their sessions were going well up until this week and he actually looked forward to them. He felt that same thrill he had when he first started his hustle.

He slammed his laptop shut and dropped his phone face down. Fuck it, he had better stuff to do.

He crossed the room and grabbed one of the boxes still stacked against the wall. He hauled it over to the empty bookshelf and flipped it open. He unpacked the books one at a time and the heavy bookend shaped like half a globe. He didn’t know why he brought all these things, he didn’t use them. He wasn’t a lawyer anymore.

He leaned against the side of the sofa and crossed his arms. He boxed up his whole life, or what was left of it, and drove halfway across the country. She couldn’t even give him a hello or her name. She could hardly look at him and she wouldn’t answer his goddamn messages.

He pushed himself straight and stormed over to his laptop. He ripped it open and clicked on the chat. Still, nothing. The invitation was scheduled for less than an hour. Well, if she wasn’t going to open it, he’d have to get it to her another way. He was done waiting on her and he was done playing with her through a screen.

He wanted the real thing and he knew she wanted it too.

📷

You were still slightly addled from your encounter at the café. After you got home and unpacked your groceries, you didn’t find your coffee again until it went cold. You dumped it and replaced it with a glass of wine. You bought the bottle a month ago, expecting to unwind and that time finally came.

You sat with the healthy dose of alcohol, almost to the brim as it darkened the full belly of the glass. You wore only a baggy Winnie the Pooh tee and panties as you lounged and flipped on the tv.

You rarely used the front room anymore, ever since your boyfriend moved out you spent most of your time in the bedroom, exhausted and lonely. It was easier to just linger there between responsibilities.

Your dainty sips turned to greedy slurps as you turned on an episode of Project Runway and lost yourself in the competition and drama of it all. Your ex hated that show and you hadn’t watched it in years. It was time to get caught up with what would forever be your unfulfilled dream of being a designer.

By the runway, your glass was empty and the television had a soft glare as you were slightly buzzed by the high potency. The dark blend had a percentage in the double digits and you were feeling it, delightfully so. As the designers came up for their feedback from judges, more so a roast, you leaned back and wiggled your hips as you stretched. You yawned and closed your eyes as you listened to a designer give cutting critique of a hem.

You peeked under your lashes as the camera panned in on the fraying stitches. Well, it looked alright from far away. You bent your arm under your head as you turned onto your side and your eyes closed again as you pondered another glass of wine. That might give you a decent night’s sleep.

You inhaled and sat up, intent on another indulgence but you stopped short as you blinked in shock. You hadn’t drank that much. You couldn’t be hallucinating. You pressed yourself to the back of the couch and shook your head as you gaped at the figure stood just beside the tv, eyes calmly watching you.

“What…” you gulped.

“Shhhh,” the man, the one you watched all those nights on your laptop, brought his finger to his lips as he hushed you, “it’s okay, honey.”

“I--” your heart leapt into your throat and you stood as you swiped up your glass, “get out. How did--”

“I sent you an invitation. Several this week. You haven’t answered--”

You hit the glass off the table so it cracked and left a jagged edge. You jabbed it out at him from the other side of the coffee table, your hand shaking as the shock turned to a jolt of adrenaline.

“Go! Get out!” you snapped, too terrified to think on how he found you or if your meeting that day was truly a coincidence. It didn’t seem like it, “you’re crazy, get out of my--”

He marched around the table as you backed up and swung the glass at him. He caught your wrist and twisted it as he wrenched you close to him and pointed the sharp edge at your throat. The scent of him filled your lungs and mingled with the taste of wine as the glass pressed to your skin.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he warned, “so don’t make me.”

“Please--”

He said your name, calmly, as you drowned in his oceanic eyes. You quivered in his grasp and tensed as you tried to lean away from him, “Andy,” he offered, “that’s my real name.”

“Please, I don’t know what you want--”

“You know exactly what I want,” he hissed as he pulled away the glass and tossed it to shatter against the wall, “the same thing I always wanted… that you want.”

You took a deep breath and he clapped his hand over your mouth and tutted. His brows wrinkled in irritation and your drunken fingers bounced futilely off his shoulder. He turned you and sat you down on the couch and knelt with you, shushing you again as he settled on his knees on the floor.

“Honey, aren’t you tired of this? Of being apart? Of just… watching?” his eyes strayed from yours and he smiled as he eyed the yellow bear on your shirt, “that’s cute.”

You shook your head and murmured against his hand. His lashes flicked up and his jaw squared. His lips thinned as he considered you.

“Thing is, honey, I’d love to talk but you gotta promise not to scream,” he said, “and I mean that because I don’t want to gag you… not yet, anyway.”

Your eyes rounded and you nodded fervently as your breath puffed under his palm. He narrowed his eyes and shifted his hand slightly, moving it just an inch at a time as he watched you. You sniffled as he let his grip fall to your knee.

“Why? How…” you stuttered, “it was a mistake. Just a show--”

“You were always there,” he said as his other hand came up to your other knee and he ran his hands up and down your legs, “it didn’t sound like a mistake.” He pushed his fingers along the top of your thighs, “you enjoyed it.”

“It wasn’t… like that, just…”

He squeezed your thighs painfully and you winced. His fingers crawled up under the hem of your tee to the elastic of your panties and he hooked them beneath the fabric. You grasped his wrists in shock at his sudden movement and he looked you in the face.

“Say whatever you want, make your excuses,” he snarled, “you said you wanted me, you said it a dozen times, and I know you do.”

He tore down the cotton and you flailed out and caught yourself against the back of the couch. He rolled your panties down and untangled them from your ankles as you tried to close your legs. He kept your panties around his wrist as he stopped your knees from meeting and moved between them.

“Honey, now, I think we’ve had enough build up--”

“Hel--” you screamed and he grabbed your chin and snapped your mouth shut so that you bit your tongue.

He growled and shook your panties down over his hand. He brought up the twisted fabric and shoved it into your mouth. You tried to turn away from his grip as he stuffed the panties in with two fingers as deep as they would go and you almost gagged.

“It’s too bad,” he said, “I wanted to try that mouth… next time.”

You batted at his arms and chest and his hand shot to your throat. You stilled as he choked you, just enough for lungs to burn. He kept his hand on your neck until you sat back and he let it trail down the front of your shirt. He groped you through the fabric, rolling his thumb around your nipples as they hardened.

“I know you can be good, honey,” he hummed, “you’re just… nervous. I know what it’s like, trying to get over someone else. Trying to move on from a life you built-- a break-up, right? That lanky guy on your Insta--”

You gave a terrified flutter of your lashes and he smiled, a tight-lipped sympathetic gesture.

“Look, we’re two lonely people,” he kneaded your chest as he spoke and leaned in, “so, it only makes sense, and I promise, honey, the shows are over. It’s all for you now.”

You trembled as he dropped his hands and pulled up your shirt. He tickled your stomach with his knuckles and framed your tits with his hands as he admired them. You squirmed as he flicked them with his thumbs and leaned into you. He took one in his mouth and suckled. You whimpered as you felt a pluck in your core.

He parted with a pop and licked his lips, “I never… it was always hard to think of what you’d look like but I couldn’t picture anyone so perfect.”

Your nails dug into the couch cushions as you tried not to flinch. The glimmer of delight turned to disgust as you watched this stranger fondle you and he sealed his lips around your other nipple. You bit down on the cotton and moaned. You were so pathetic. It was your stupid moments of lonely desperation that brought you to this, that brought him to you.

His large hands spread along your sides and he pressed his fingertips into you sharply as he toyed with your nipples. He grazed his teeth along each bud and pulled back to look at you again. You grasped his shoulders as you begged him with your eyes and shook your head.

“I… always wanted to do this in the bedroom,” he said, “that’s where you usually are, huh? Touching yourself for me all alone in the dark--”

You hung your head in defeat and he pulled you forward on the cushion. He lifted you onto your feet and spun you around in the space between him and the couch. He put one hand on your hip and the other on the back of your neck and walked you around the sofa. He paced slowly behind you as he urged you down the hall and paused to peer through your bedroom door.

“Here we are,” he said as he angled you through the door. You reached up as your jaw ached around the wad of fabric and he caught your hand and yanked it down, “I didn’t say you could do that.”

You dropped your arm and he let you go. He pressed his body to your back as he nudged you closer to the bed and stopped you right before it. He bunched your shirt in his hands and tugged it up until you raised your arms. He swiped it over your head and let it crumple beside your feet.

“Go on, sit nice and pretty for me,” he tapped your ass lightly.

Naked, you shivered as you stepped away from him and got onto the bed. You turned as you bent your legs over the edge and lowered your chin. You hugged yourself as he stood watching you with his hands on his belt.

“Don’t you worry, it’s still a show,” he said as his hands slid over to his buckle.

He winked and ran his fingers up the front of his jacket and pulled it off. He draped it over the folding stool by your bookshelf and bent each leg to tug off his shoes. His socks followed shortly after and he squared his shoulders before he scooped his shirt up and off. He returned to his buckle and tilted his head at you.

“Look at me, honey,” he said as you stared at the pile of clothing, “we both know you love to watch.”

You raised your eyes to him and clamped your hands around your shoulders, arms crossed over your chest. He grinned and unbuckled his belt, his zipper gliding down smoothly beneath his fingers.

“You got me hard as fuck,” he said, “I didn’t like that earlier, you know? The way you ran from me.”

You just sat and tried to swallow the hopeless acceptance. He pushed down his pants and stepped out of them, his arousal bulging against his boxers. Your fingernails cut into your skin as you curled your fingers.

“You’ve been so good to me, honey,” he continued as he rolled down his boxers, “you know, I only want to return the favour. I came all this way just to get close so that--” he paused as his dick sprang up before him and he kicked away his underwear, “I can take care of you now.”

He gripped himself and stroked his length with a hum. His stomach tensed and the lines of his muscles deepened as he groaned and played with himself as he would before the camera. You were mortified as you watched him helplessly and he got closer and closer.

“Now you get the live show, honey,” he reached out and took your hand, closing it around his dick as he guided it up and down.

He moaned and hung his head back as he used both your hands on his shaft. He shuddered and leaned into your grasp. You listened to his pants as they grew quicker and quicker and he stopped you abruptly. You looked down at the glistening pre-cum as it leaked from his tip and he trailed his thumb through it as he let you go.

You flinched as he moved towards you suddenly and grabbed your hips. He lifted you and dropped you onto your back. He took your ankles and placed them against his shoulders as he stretched your legs up his torso. His cock slid along your cunt and hovered over your folds.

“Fuck, I can’t wait any longer,” he bit his lips and looked between your legs as he let go of one leg and reached down to guide himself between your lips, “oh, honey, your so sexy.”

He pushed apart your cunt with two fingers and slid in between his knuckles. He gasped as you stretched around him and you pushed your head back and whined around the fabric in your mouth. You whimpered as he drew back just a little and pushed in deeper. He rocked his hips, getting further each time as your walls strained around him.

He tilted you against him so that he reached his limit and slid his thumb along your bud. He swirled around your clit as he carried a slow motion, gliding in and out of you as you slicked around him. The tingle of his touch crept like tendrils beneath your flesh and made you clench around his dick.

He groaned and sped up, just a little as he played with you, pressing more firmly on your clit until your hand shot down over his. You didn’t move him away, only gripped his wrist as he toyed with you, fucking you deliberately as the sensation melded into a maelstrom. The twisting spring inside of you compressed and released suddenly in a ripple of sheer delight.

You groaned and bent your legs against him, raising your pelvis higher so he dipped even deeper. Your eyes rolled back and you ripped the panties from your mouth in your ecstatic trance. You balled them in your hand and writhed on his dick.

He grasped your hips and dragged your ass over the edge of the bed and rammed into you. You cried out and he did it again. It was as if he lost all control as his pelvis slapped against you loudly and his voice rumbled through the room. You gulped and gasped as he pressed the heel of his hand to your clit and rubbed harder, his fingers stabbing sharply against your flesh.

His other hand snaked up to pinch your nipple and cup your tit. He braced you as he bent over you and fucked you furiously. He stepped up onto the edge of the bed frame as he curled your body beneath his and brought both his hands up beside your head as he held himself over you.

He plunged down into you over and over and he huffed as he watched the joining of your bodies. He growled and pulled out of you suddenly, bending your legs up as you were contorted further. He grabbed your hand again and trapped it around his dick, moving it quickly as he muttered.

He came in thick ropes onto your chest and down the folds of your stomach as you were in almost a C beneath him, his knees around your thighs. You shook and lifted his chin as he snarled and kept your hand moving, still cumming over you. He tore your grasp from him as he grew over sensitive and hung his head as he quivered.

“Shit,” he swore as he backed off of you and stood, leaning on the bed to steady himself. Your legs fell over the edge and his cum cooled across your skin, “you look good like that, honey.”

He stepped closer and pushed his fingers through the mess. You shivered and stopped his hand as you slowly returned to reality. You lifted yourself on one elbow and batted your lashes in confusion.

“How did you even find me?” you uttered.

“Doesn’t matter how,” he grabbed your wrist and pulled you to sit up gruffly, “only that I did.”

#andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #fic #two shot #one shot #defending jacob #dark fic #dark!fic #irl

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taestefully-in-luv · 4 years ago

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Always You | JJK (Three)

Summary: you and Jungkook have been best friends since freshmen year of college, there’s a lot of unsaid feelings and tension but neither make a move. what happens when his friend Taehyung (also your crush) needs a fake girlfriend?

Pairing: Jungkook x Female reader, slight Taehyung x Reader

Genre: friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, slight slow burn, roommate au, college au, SMUT (starting ch2), fluff, angst (in later chapters) slight crack, lots of drama

Word Count: 10.4k

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, sexual tension (?),oc and jungkook being adorable bffs, shady tae, oral (female receiving), vaginal fingering, mentions of sex, vaginal intercourse, hickeys, orgasms,

Notes: I actually really enjoyed writing this part! Where’s my bff for bff bubble bath? Lmaaoo. Anyway, thanks again for taking the time to read. Don’t forget to send me an ask if you want to be added to the taglist or if you just want to chat about the story!

Taglist: @mooniyooni @thisartemisnevermisses @giadalin @kookiebunny097 @cosmosjk @moonchild1 @just-jeon @anpanman-sonyeondan @starlight-night0 @yessii-i @apollukee @mikasaredescarf1 @kaye-rosales @bunnyjeonjk @dyriddle @jkslachimolala

Previous----Next

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You want me to what now?” your voice is unnecessarily high pitched.

“Meet my parents.” Taehyung gives you that awkward Chrissy Teigen meme smile. “Listen—I know it sounds crazy and horrifying but they’re really nice…”

“But why?”

“It’s my fault…I didn’t consider having my sister on social media…and I keep posting you and she told my parents and they’re real excited about me having a girlfriend…and I don’t want to crush them.”

You and Taehyung are seated on your living room couch, enjoying a lazy Thursday afternoon after classes. He brings his cup of water to his lips and takes some generous gulps.

“Listen, y/n I will literally pay another month’s worth of coffee…please just think about it.”

More free coffee? Fuck, that’s kind of a steal considering how expensive that shit is and you no doubt have an addiction.

“…fine…” you say hesitantly, “when?”

“Really?” Taehyung lights up like a spot light, “Well, I was thinking this weekend?”

“T-This weekend? That soon? Which day?”

Taehyung showcases a sheepish grin as he rubs the back of his neck, a habit of his no doubt.

“Like, the whole weekend.”

Your eyebrows crawl to the top of your head as you gape at him, “What do you mean?”

“Like, we would get there in time for dinner on Friday, then stay all day Saturday and leave Sunday morning before they leave for church. Unless you wanna go to church with th—”

“No, not really.” You run your fingers through your long strands, “Holy shit, okay we are doing this.” You nod to yourself, “What’s our story? You know they’re going to ask.”

“Huh? Uh…just the truth. I met you through Jungkook and we hit it off and we started dating.”

You sigh to yourself, wishing that were actually true.

“Just be yourself, y/n.” Taehyung smiles at you. You beam back at him, and his boxy smile only grows wider. “They’ll like you, it’s not that hard to…” his hand reaches for yours, your palms are a bit sweaty since you are feeling like a nervous wreck at the thought of meeting his parents.

Suddenly, the front door swings open and in comes your best friend (who is still mad at you). He walks in slowly eyeing the two of you on the sofa. He notices Taehyungs hand wrapped around yours and Taehyung quickly pulls away. Jungkook takes a look at your face, you’re lost in thought, nibbling on your bottom lip.

Jungkook is yes, still mad at you but also, since he jacked it to your face he is being a little nicer. But as much as he has tried not to have those type of thoughts of you before, it’s not like he hasn’t. So, he’s gotten good at pretending all is well.

“What’s with her?” Jungkook pries, walking closer to the sofa.

“Noth—”

“I’m meeting Tae’s parents.” You cut in to say.

Jungkook’s brows crease as he looks between you and Taehyung. He shakes his head in disbelief, stepping closer to the two of you.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Jungkook mutters under his breath. “You’re going this far?” now Jungkook’s face is tilted towards Taehyung. “Why are you going this far dude?” Taehyung stands to his feet, “I—”

“No man, you’ve already dragged her into your shit and now you want her to what, meet your parents?” Jungkook’s voice rises in volume and you start to feel uneasy. Taehyung shakes his head, “Jungkook—”

“End this.” Jungkook spits out, getting in Taehyungs face. “How is this fair for her…”

You stand up too, your hand pulling him back by the shoulder. “Jungkook stop.” Your voice is unusually calm.

“I’m helping Tae out because we’re friends and also, ya know, free coffee.” Jungkook turns to face you, his teeth gritting in frustration.

“You have no idea what you’re doing.” Jungkook whispers. And with that he takes one more look at Taehyung, shakes his head in disapproval and walks off towards his room.

You and Taehyung continue to stand there in silence, you feel embarrassed because of Jungkook’s actions and ashamed you didn’t do more to stop him. Taehyung on the other hand looks completely defeated.

“I’m sorry about Jungkook I don’t know why he—”

“I should go,” Taehyung cuts you off, he gives you a weak smile before grabbing his things and heading towards the door.

“Are we still on for this weekend?” you sway from side to side, feeling as awkward as you probably look.

Taehyung doesn’t answer right away, instead he rubs the back of his neck with a frown decorating his face. Finally, he meets your eyes and offers another weak smile.

“Yeah, I’ll pick you up at 4 tomorrow.” He doesn’t wait for a response as he is already walking out the door, closing it softly behind him.

You’re left alone in the living room with nothing but a cold, empty couch and your million racing thoughts. Why is Jungkook so against you and Tae? Maybe Jungkook is afraid that you’ll become so close with Tae that he thinks you’ll replace him…but you know in your heart of hearts Jungkook is irreplaceable. Why can’t Jungkook understand that? You haven’t been spending as much time with him lately and maybe that’s the problem. What can’t a drunken slumber party not solve?

You knock on his door, waiting for a ‘come in’ but it never comes. So you knock again. And again. Until finally Jungkook swings open the door with a frustrated sigh and pained look on his face.

“Look, before you scold me—”

“Actually, I had an idea.” You say quickly.

“Oh?” Jungkook’s features relax.

“It’s been a while since we’ve had one of our BFF slumber parties.” You slant your head to the side, a sly smile forming on your lips.

Jungkook stares at you for a few seconds before his eyes fill with something interesting.

“Yeah,” he clears his throat, “it’s been a while.”

“What do you say? Tonight? Me and you? Wine? Anime? Video games? BFF bubble bath?”

“Wow, you want the works.” Jungkook grins. “But you realize I’m still…” he takes a deep breath when he notices your worried, pleading eyes. “Step into my office and we can discuss the details.” He says, opening his door wider, inviting you inside.

His room looks clean besides the few articles of clothing scattered on the ground. He has a scented candle going and LoFi music playing lowly on his speakers. Lofi and candle? He only has that combo when he’s stressed and trying to calm down.

You take a seat on the edge of his made bed, and Jungkook follows you, also taking a seat on his bed next to you.

“14% and up only for the wine.” He states.

“Agreed. Action or horror for the anime.” You pitch in.

“Agreed. Mario Kart for the video game.”

“Agreed. Life altering secrets only for BFF Bubble Bath.”

Jungkook chews on his lips as he thinks of your request. “Okay.”

You clap your hands excitedly for tonight, your chest bubbling with happiness. This is what you and Jungkook need.

~~~~~~

Jungkook is even more excited for BFF slumber party night than you are. He’s missed you. There’s been a real disconnect with the two of you lately and thinks tonight is exactly what the two of you need. He is just coming home from buying 4 bottles of 16% wine and lots of snacks. He got the salty, the sweet and the sour. Feeling proud of his choices, he sets the groceries down and calls for you.

You walk out from the bathroom with a facemask glued to your face with another packet in your hand,

“For you, sir.”

Jungkook chuckles as he grabs the pack from your hands, “Okay, I’ll go put this on, while you pour us some wine.” He nods towards the bottles.

You happily oblige. You grab the cork screw from its designated place in the kitchen drawer and begin to open the first bottle of wine. It opens smoothly, without a hitch.

“Wow…engineering is amazing.” You whisper to yourself in awe.

“What’s amazing?” Jungkook walks into the kitchen, you take a long look at his appearance. The white facemask making him look like a ghost.

“Your face.” You chuckle, a finger going up to touch the material on his skin.

You twirl to face the kitchen cabinets and pull out two wine glasses for you and your BFF and poor a gracious amount of wine in each. You hand him the glass and you clank the glasses together in cheers.

“To us.” You chirp happily, chugging back a gulp of your drink.

Jungkook just watches as you wince at the disgusting flavor and cackles to himself before taking a sip of his own drink.

The two of you grab the bottle of wine and your glasses and make your way into the living room.

“Alright we go by the normal house rules, whichever place you get is how many seconds you chug your drink.” You explain.

“Are you talking to an imaginary audience y/n? I already know the rules.” Jungkook teases.

“I was just trying to get the competitive mood going.” You poke your tongue out, Jungkook is quick to try to grab it between his fingers.

“Ugh, you are so gross.” You groan.

“You love it.” Jungkook smiles so wide his eyes begin to disappear. “Well, let’s play!”

One thing you absolutely can’t stand but also completely adore about Jungkook is that he is a sore loser. And also an ungracious fucking winner.

“You SUCK!” Jungkook cackles obnoxiously in your face, “Like I hope you enjoy chugging for five—no, SIX seconds you mother fuckin loser.” He continues to laugh loudly much to your annoyance but a part of you feels warm that he is having so much fun. You haven’t seen him laugh like this in weeks.

“Okay I get it.” You roll your eyes so far back into your head all you see is whites.

This was the 3rd time in a row you’re getting 6th place, your vision is started to blur at the amount of alcohol you’ve chugged. But only a little, nothing you can’t handle.

“Okay y/n let’s stop now, we can watch some anime while we order some pizza?” he grins your way. “I vote Tokyo ghoul. And the rule is we drink every time Kaneki is fucking cry baby.”

“Well damn, guess we’re getting fucked up.” You declare. You and Jungkook laugh to yourselves at the thought.

The show is on, pizza has been ordered. Life is good. You sneak a glance at Jungkook as he pays attention to the show on screen. You smile when he smiles, you smile when he laughs, you smile when he pouts. Jungkook finally manages to notice you staring at him and snaps his head to you.

“What?” he asks with a toothy grin.

“Nothing…” you sing, your bright smile rivaling the light coming from the TV.

It’s been several hours, two medium pizzas have been demolished, 4 wine bottles have been drank and lots of anime has been watched. You and Jungkook sit on the sofa wrapped in blankets, neither one of you wanting to get up to turn the fan off.

“So cold.” You slur.

“Come closer.” Jungkook slurs back.

“Or we can warm up with BFF Bubble Bath?” you offer, leaning your head on his shoulder.

Jungkook zones out for a second, thinking of your request.

“Been a while since we had one of those, huh?” he finally says something.

“yeah, which is a real shame, isn’t it? I mean, we literally get into our swim suits, draw a hot bubble bath, get in sitting opposite of each other and tell each other our secrets, our hopes and dreams. Then we make a wish that the other person HAS to support and we can’t tell anyone else or else it won’t come true.” You mumble mostly to yourself.

“y/n…once again are you speaking to an imaginary audience?” he chuckles, “I know what a BFF Bubble Bath is.”

“Then hurry up and draw that bubble bath mister know it all.”

Jungkook stares at himself in the mirror, he’s got on his red swim trunks. His hair is a fucking mess, and his eyes are giving away how intoxicated he is but he’s got this dopey smile on his face that he decides is a good look on him. He looks happy. He feels happy.

You walk into the bathroom and eye your best friend. You can’t help but drop your gaze to his thighs, God, you love when he wears tight pants or shorts.

“What’s up buff guy?” you tease, grabbing a hold of his bicep.

“Shut up” Jungkook shudders from your touch. Then he takes one long look at you and he wants to faint. You’re also wearing a red swim suit, it’s one of those strapless kind. The two of you eye each other up and down, observing your matching swim suits and shoot each other some finger guns.

“hehe…well, shall we?” you say, gesturing towards the bubble filled tub.

Jungkook nods his head yes and motions for you to step in first.

The water is hotter than you are expecting, your toes wet with lava. But it’s just how you like it, you have both legs in as you begin to sink deeper into the bubbled water.

“come on in” you wave Jungkook over, he drunkenly stumbles forward until he’s wincing at the hot water that meets his skin.

“You’re really the queen of Hell if this temperature is enjoyable to you.” He deadpans.

“Why thank you, does that make you my loyal servant?”

“ha-ha.”

You and Jungkook stare at each other for a while, enjoying the drunken haze.

“So anything new going on with you?” you begin to pry.

You prying is never a good thing but you can never help yourself. His past is such a mystery to you and it drives you nuts. You’re supposed to be best friends yet he can’t even tell you about his parents without it getting real awkward. He knows all about your family history, but all you know about his is that his dad cheated the whole marriage and his mom finally left him for it—leaving Jungkook behind as well. You understand why it must be hard to talk about but...doesn’t he want to confide in you? You of all people?

“Not really.” Jungkook fingers play with the bubbles at his chest.

“Any girls? Like not just hookups but—”

“Don’t worry about that.”

Such a fucking Jungkook thing to say, it’s always ‘don’t worry about that y/n’ and never ‘let me actually tell you some real information y/n’.

“Jungkook,” you wine into the bubbles.

“Hm?”

“Don’t you have a girl you like???” and suddenly drunk y/n doesn’t want to know this answer. Would sober you?

Jungkook looks down at his wrinkling hands and doesn’t know what to say. Does he?

“No.” is the answer he settles for. And suddenly relief is washed over you.

You want to ask him the thing you are most curious about—his family. But he has said it a million times to you every time he’s asked—its ‘a touchy subject’.

“Ask about it.” He suddenly says, “I know you want to.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about, yes indeed I have no clue.” You slur.

“Y/N.” he warns.

“Fine…when’s the last time you talked to your dad? I know he made mistakes…but I also know he has tried reaching out to you over and over. He calls almost every day Jungkook! Maybe he’s changed. I know your mom left because of everything and you blame your d—”

“Mom…” he begins to cut you off. You notice his eyes gloss over and you feel your heart drop. Jungkook rarely cries and rarely cries in front of anyone. Then he’s clearing his throat, “You’re right. Moms not in the picture anymore and I do blame dad.”

“I hate that your mom left you Jungkook…” you say softly. “She’s the worst for that,”

“You have no idea.” Jungkook breathes out. “Let’s change the subject, please.”

“But—”

“Please, y/n.” his eyes are pleading and you feel your heart drop again. You wonder if he will ever be ready to talk about it.

“Actually…” he awkwardly plays with the bubbles in front of his chest, “There’s something I want to say.”

“What is it?” you can’t help but feel anxious all the sudden.

Jungkook avoids your eyes as he plays with the bubbles, he takes a few deep breaths before lifting his head.

“I’m sorry.”

You tilt your head, “Sorry for what?”

“I’ve…” Jungkook scrunches his face up, contemplating what to say. “I’ve been really unfair to you. I should of never treated you this way…I don’t know what came over me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was hurt, yes, that you chose Taehyung over me but since the beginning I’ve been such an asshole. Fuck, y/n…” his voice cracks, “I’m so sorry. I just wish I could…” he pauses, shaking his head. “No, it’s nothing. I just hope you’ll be careful with Taehyung.” He shakes his head again, “Oh my god, I am so selfish.” He laughs pathetically. “I’m sorry…”

You stay quiet for several moments, you want to agree with him. Yeah it was fucked up what you did, but he wasn’t any better this whole time.

“Why were you such an asshole?” you finally ask.

“Don’t worry about it y/n.” GOD DAMN. You are tired of that response!

You scoff, “And why are you so wary of Taehyung? I don’t get it!”

“Can you just trust me? Please?”

“I’ll just trust my own judgment for now…”

“y/n…” then he is looking into your eyes more seriously, “I’m sorry.”

You bite your lip as you think about his apology. Is he sorry? By the looks of it, yes. But he was so childish…you decide to grab his hand and play with his fingers. He stares down at your hands and smiles softly.

“Will you behave?” you tease lightly. Your fingers weaving through his. He looks up at you with his big doe eyes and nods his head slowly.

“Yes.”

“Then I will forgive you for now but you’re on thin fucking ice, buddy.”

Jungkook can’t help but laugh a little. “Yes mam.”

“Fine!” you say clasping your hands together, “Secret time!”

“Oh great,” Jungkook chuckles. “You first”

“Okay, hmmmmm.” You hold your chin up in deep thought. “Okay I got one I have never told you.” You grin mischievously.

“Okay, go for it.”

“When I was really drunk I most definitely made out with Trina.”

“Yeah, I was there. I’m the one who told you that you should kiss her. I said kiss though, like a peck. But your ass added tongue and all.”

“Wait what? Why would you tell me to do that!”

“I thought it would be hot.” He shrugs.

“Wack.” You slap his hand, “Your turn.”

“Ummm…” Jungkook leans back in the tub, “I’m the one who told Jimin to dare me to kiss you our freshmen year.” Jungkook says just above a whisper. He’s been holding in that secret for 3 years.

“Wait, what?” you ask, totally off guard.

“Yeah.” Is all he responds with.

“You wanted to kiss me back then?”

“Wasn’t it obvious considering how things escalated…”

Your eyes expand in size, the memory of that night flashing in your mind.

“We agreed to never talk about it, ya know, to save our friendship and what not.” You point out.

The bubbles cover your bathing suit perfectly so little was left to the imagination. Jungkook keeps eyeing the swell of your breasts and the pop of your collarbones, you look naked if he has to be honest. And if he has to be honest it was starting to turn him on. Should that be a secret he shares?

“Jungkook?” you say for the 4th time trying to get him out of whatever drunken daze he was in.

“Huh?” he comes back down to earth. “What did you say?”

“I said, what are your dreams?”

“You know them already,” he shrugs.

“Video editor still?”

“Yeah. Maybe Director.” He smiles timidly, “What about yours?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“Well, you’re in school for marketing. So something with that?”

“I just chose that because I know I can find a job in the field.” You sigh.

Jungkook studies your features, you look troubled. He leans forward to grab your hands again and says , “Whatever you wanna do, you’ll be great at it,”

You crease your brows together and a pout forms on your lips, “You think so?”

“I know so.”

The two of you smile at one another until you break the silence, “Its getting too hot we should get out soon.”

“Agreed.” Jungkook nods his head.

“Alright let’s make our wishes that we MUST support.” You stick your pinky out for Jungkook to take, “I’ll go first.” Then you become shy with your next words, “I wish Taehyung would feel the same way about me I do about him.”

Jungkook’s smile falters but he takes your pinky anyway.

“My turn…I just…I wish you will be happy.”

You widen your eyes, “Wow,” you say, “What a selfless wish. You shouldn’t waste it on me!”

“It’s my greatest wish right now though…” he slurs his words.

You can’t help but smile as you take his pinky in promise.

Now in some fresh pajamas, you and Jungkook both stand in front of his bedroom door. The two of you are pretty damn drunk but holding it together quite nicely. He sways from side to side with that bunny smile and you can’t help but lean in for a hug. He takes a moment but he hugs you back. You pull away much too quickly for his liking.

“Hey y/n…”

“Yeah?”

Jungkook clears his throat a few times, his eyes darting all around the place, “Could you ever…hate me?”

“Never.” You answer quickly.

Jungkook is hit with a wave of guilt, a wave so big it comes crashing and knocking him down.

“Would if…no, never mind.”

“Never.” You say again.

Jungkook’s smiles fades a bit before a new smile takes over.

“I understand. Goodnight y/n.” and he leans down and places a kiss on your cheek. “sleep well.”

Fire. You feel the burn of fire. His kiss lingered for a second too long because you are burning. His kiss was scorching hot and you can’t help but melt from the heat. You are left speechless. From a kiss on the cheek.How did a kiss on the mother fucking cheek have you reacting this way?

“G-Goodnight Jung—” but the door is already softly closing in your face before you can finish your sentence.

~~~~~

The sun is coming through the blinds in the most offending way, you want to open your eyes and start the day but you just cannot. You have a raging headache from all the wine you quickly drank and you come to accept your fate—you’re hungover. As hell. You crack one eye open to see the time on the clock: 1:52pm

Immediately you sit up in bed, realizing you have slept way too long. How late did you and Jungkook stay up last night? Oh, last night. You smile softly at the memories of the night before. It was a perfect BFF slumber party. You haven’t seen Jungkook that happy in a while and you wonder if the same goes for you.

But then reality sets in—Taehyung is going to be here in 2 hours and you haven’t even thought about what you’re packing for your trip. You still need to eat, shower and get ready. You begin to mentally pack for your trip when you hear a single knock on your door before its opening up and a wild Jungkook appears.

“Morning sleepyhead.” He says with his signature bunny grin on his face.

“Jungkook! Help me pack!” you jump out of bed and walk to your closet, dragging out an oversized overnight bag.

“Like, parent appropriate clothes—I am freaking out by the way. I am meeting Tae’s parents and would if they don’t like me?”

“Relax, relax.” Jungkook walks inside your closet, bringing out a few clothing options. “They’re going to love you.”

“Do you…” you chew on your bottom lip, “Do you think your parents would have loved me?” you ask cautiously.

Jungkook freezes. He is silent for several long moments, making you believe you should not have asked that. But then he turns to face you with a strange smile, “Mom and dad would have adored you.” Then he pats your shoulder. “I put in some good options by the way.” He says pointing to the bag.

“Oh thanks.” You say totally caught off guard. “Okay I’m going to shower can you please, pretty please make me something to eat? I will love you forever.”

“You already love me forever.” Jungkook states matter of fact. “But sure, but don’t blame me if you don’t like what I make.”

“Oh god, you’re making me instant ramen aren’t you?”

“Love you.” He says, walking out of your room.

~~~~~~

“I made a playlist for our drive.” Taehyung hands you his phone, “It’s called ‘Meet the Parents’” he laughs to himself, pointing at the playlist on the screen for you to click.

“The first song is called ‘Please love me’ by Colde” you chuckle, “You think you are funny, don’t you?”

“Maybe a little” he smirks. “But really, relax. My parents are chill, they’re gonna like you, I promise.

“Well, we have a 2 hour drive Tae Tae.” Taehyung blushes hard at the nickname and for once it does not go unnoticed by you.

“I have a question for you y/n…”

You quirk a brow at his curiosity, “What is it?”

“How do you have the opportunity to fake date me? Like, don’t you have someone you like or guys chasing after you?”

“Oh I don’t have much luck with that.” You answer honestly. “With dating and such.”

“And why’s that?” he pries deeper.

“To be honest most guys I have dated end up dumping me if I don’t…”

“Don’t what?”

You grip your purse in your lap, your hold so tight your fingers become sore.

“Dump Jungkook.” You breathe out, “They were always so jealous of him…and… gave me a choice. Them or him,” you pick at the material of your purse, “I always chose Jungkook.” You huff, “Besides I didn’t like those guys that much anyway.”

Taehyung is quietly listening to you, nodding his head at your words. Once at a stop light he turns to face you,

“Yet when I asked you to dump Jungkook, you did.” He points out in a hushed tone.

“I…” you pause, thinking carefully on what to say. “I guess I did.”

Taehyung smiles. But it isn’t his boxy grin, it’s an odd smile. You become anxious, “But it’s more complicated than that.”

“Right.” Taehyung says before facing the road again, accelerating through the green light.

“How did you and Jungkook becomes so close anyway?”

You can’t help but simper.

“Well, we met at a frat party but ended up at a 24 diner until like 9 the next morning. We just—we just really hit it off. I felt like I could say or be anything in front of Jungkook and he would always just give me a silly look and accept whatever it is, whatever I am. You know when you just vibe with someone so well?” you ask, not really expecting an answer.

“Well that was us. We could say anything and still always want to continue the conversation. We ended up taking some of the same classes and studied together then that turned into regular hang outs and then it was like bam—I was with him almost every day.” You smile fondly at the memories.

Taehyung glances at you, he wears a sad smile as he asks, “Have either of you ever caught feelings for the other?”

You choke on the air around you, “What?” then that night from freshmen year flashes in your mind, “No…no.” you say trying to convince him, or is it to convince yourself?

The next few minutes are pretty quiet during the drive, but nothing awkward. You unzip your purse to pull out your phone to see you have unread messages from Jimin.

Jimin 5:30pm

Hey babe, heard you were going to meet Tae’s parents

Jimin 5:31pm

How is Jungkook feeling?

y/n 5:44pm

what do u mean

Jimin 5:45pm

y/n…nothing girl

y/n 5:45pm

????

Jimin 5:46pm

It’s really nothing. Anyway

Jimin 5:46pm

You and tae huh

Jimin 5:46pm

I am happy for you and tae…if that’s what you really want

You stare down at the phone in your hands, contemplating whether to tell Jimin the truth. He is one of your best friends after all.

y/n 5:55pm

tbh with u jimin…im not really dating tae..were just pretending to get this girl off his back

Jimin 5:56pm

What???? Really?? Wait, what girl?

y/n 5:57pm

Some chick named Anna

Jimin 5:57pm

Wait…Anna…?

Incoming call: Jimin

“Are you going to answer that?” Taehyung asks from beside you.

You want to but you two are pulling into his parents drive way and you don’t want your first impression to be that you were on your phone, so you send Jimin a quick text that you can’t talk.

You and Taehyung step out of the car and his parents are already standing outside on the porch. His father has his wife in his arms, they look happy to see Taehyung—they look happy in general.

“Oh! My baby bear!” his mother strides forward until Taehyung is wrapped in her loving arms. She sways their bodies back and forth as she smiles and laughs, the joy of having her son with her evident.

Taehyungs dad is about the same, he pulls him in for a tight hug and scolds him for not visiting more. Then it is your turn. You stand there awkwardly but not for long because Taehyungs mother is embracing you all the same.

“I have seen lots of pictures of you! But you are even prettier in person!” she gushes, her hands holding yours. You can’t help the blush that creeps up on your face as she speaks to you.

“Why don’t you two come inside?” his father gestures towards the house, “We got dinner nice and hot.”

Taehyung blushes as he watches his parents interact with you, he knew they would warm up to you fast but still it makes his heart race.

Dinner goes by quickly, his parents talking a storm. They begin sharing childhood stories about Taehyung and show you baby pictures as he sits there protesting. His pouting face is so cute you could die.

“And here he is with just a towel!” his mom squeals. “But I am sure you have seen that view already.”

“mom…” Taehyung draws out the word in a whine. You just giggle as she continues to show you pictures of baby Tae Tae.

Finally, Taehyungs sister joins the party and she teases him just as much as their parents. You feel right at home with the Kim’s. They are warm and inviting and make you feel so…at peace.

“Oh!” Mrs. Kim pauses, “look at the time!” she points down at her watch that rests on her left wrist.

“It’s gotten so late, my my. Well, us old folks are heading to bed. You two should get some rest as well.” She motions towards you and Taehyung. “Taehyung can show you the room you two will be staying in.”

“Room? As in singular?” you sputter out.

“Well, we only have one room open. One bed.” She juts her lip out innocently. “I figure you two are a couple so…”

“Yeah, we will be fine.” Taehyung cuts in. “Get some rest mom…dad.” He nods towards his father.

One room? One bed? With The Kim Taehyung. Granted that yes, you have become like, friends with Tae so you are more comfortable. But to share a room? Share a bed?

You follow Tae up the stairs and down the hall to a bedroom. It has a single queen size bed in the middle of the room against the wall. You feel flustered like it’s the first time you spoke to him.

“I can sleep on the floor if you want.” Taehyung offers with a shy smile and all your worries vanish. That’s right, Taehyung is a gentlemen and you have nothing to worry about.

“No, it’s fine” you assure him, “We are adults Tae, we can share a bed.”

Your hangover still lingers and the drive is starting to take its toll, your eyes feeling heavy as sleep invites you to visit.

“Let’s sleep.” You yawn out.

Taehyung nods his head with a smile and walks towards the bathroom, “I’ll get ready for bed in here,” he motions towards the bathroom, “and you can change in here. Just let me know when you’re done.”

“Alrighty”

You fall asleep quickly, letting your dreams take over for the night.

Winter break just started and you are supposed to go see your parents but when you found out your new friend Jungkook was going to be spending the holidays alone in his dorm you just could not let that slide.

“It’s not a big deal, y/n. I’m used to it.” He states in a plain fashion.

“it IS a big deal JK. My parents can handle one Christmas without me, but I am afraid you cannot.” You say with a smirk.

“Why are you doing this for me?” Jungkook is typing away on his laptop working on a last minute assignment his professor is letting him turn in late.

“Because even though I’ve only known you for like, 4 months, you’re like my closest friend here.”

“Don’t act like you have a closer friend somewhere else”

“Why do you have to call me out like that?”

Jungkook snickers, click clacking away on his keyboard, “Finally, I’m finished.” He says closing the laptop. Jungkook looks up at you.

“Go catch your flight y/n.” he says with a soft smile.

“Not happening.” You say more seriously.

Jungkook just stares at you for a long while and you stare right back. When the two of you look into one another’s eyes it’s never weird or awkward. You always relish in it.

“You’re something else aren’t you?” he breaks into a toothy grin. “What would we do anyway?”

“We can have a slumber party? And call it BFF slumber party.”

“Sounds fun” Jungkook stands from his rolling chair and sits on the edge of his bed with you.

“You know, you might be the best friend I have ever had.” He whispers.

Christmas passes by in a flash and NYE’s is right around the corner. Your friends are going to be back for NYE’s because of all the parties that required all of your attendances.

New Year’s eve has arrived and you sit in your dorm with Trina as the two of you get ready for the night.

“I hope Stephanie is going to be there tonight…” Trina mumbles under her breath, “If not this outfit is a complete waste.”

You giggle as you apply your red lipstick in the mirror. You get a text from Jimin that he and Jungkook are already headed to the party so you rush Trina to get ready to go.

The party is booming. There are decorations everywhere, people everywhere, and drinks everywhere. You sip on a few beers, wanting to stay at least a little sober so you remember the night, and you hope Jungkook isn’t too trashed either.

Hours pass, lots of dancing goes down and more drinks go down…your throat. It was all fun and games until Jimin called for your group of friends to head to a bedroom to play an innocent game of truth or dare.

You stick to Jungkook’s side as the two of you stumble up the stairs, laughing loudly and holding hands to keep each other stable.

You all sat in a circle in the room, talking and laughing until Jimin clanked a glass with a spoon like a fancy bitch to get everyone’s attention.

“Okay first, lets start with Trina! Truth or Dare?” Jimin smirks.

“Dare, obviously.”

“Okay,” Jimin thinks for a few moments, “I dare you to flash everyone your tits.”

“Oh? Is that all?” Trina says as she quickly lifts her shirt. She was already braless. You and Jungkook cackle at the scene unfolding.

“Okay, Hobi…truth or dare?”

“Dare.” He says with an excited grin.

“Dare you to take 3 shots in a row.”

And the night went on like this until it was Jimins turn again,

“Jungkook, truth or dare?” Jimin had an evil glint in his eye, you should of known he was up to no good.

“Dare.” Jungkook says with a cocky smile.

“I dare you to kiss y/n.”

“y/n?” Taehyung shakes you a bit more, “y/n?”

“Huh?” you begin to open your eyes and take in your view. You are in a small bedroom, there are posters on the wall and a small desk next to the bedroom door. And most importantly a Kim Taehyung in front of your face.

“What…What time is it?” you ask, sleep still evident in your voice.

“9:00” he grins down at you. “We’re going strawberry picking today, get dressed!”

You rub your eyes, trying to rid yourself of the sleep that crusted them but it is no use, you are still exhausted.

“I dare you to kiss y/n.”

Why? Why did you dream that memory? You shake your head trying to rid yourself of the lingering dream in your mind. That was a long time ago, time to move on.

You quickly shower and get dressed and meet Taehyung and his parents for breakfast.

“Wow, smells good!” you inhale the air, while smiling sweetly to Mrs. Kim.

“Do you cook y/n?” she asks, looking eager to know.

“Yeah, I do. Well, sometimes.” You laugh to yourself “My roommate is useless in the kitchen so someone has to cook.”

“That’s great!” Mrs. Kim exclaims, nodding approvingly to her husband. “Taehyungs last girlfriend couldn’t even toast a poptart.” She rolls her eyes but then smiles at you again.

Last girlfriend? You don’t recall Taehyung ever having a girlfriend in the time you have known him. Must have been a while.

“Mom…” Taehyung warns,

“Oh alright, we aren’t talking about her. What was her name again?”

“Mom.”

“Okay okay.”

You awkwardly play with your fingers at their back and forth. Who was his girlfriend? Were they dating more recently? Why has the energy shifted so much in the kitchen?

“So you two are going strawberry picking huh? That’ll be fun. Be sure you bring back the reddest, juiciest ones you can find!” Mr. Kim chimes in.

You and Taehyung arrive at the strawberry farm a couple hours later, you two are some of the only people there.

“Small town.” Taehyung explains.

“More for us.” You poke your tongue out. “You must really like strawberries Tae.”

“Actually, no. I’m tired of them.” His laughter fills your ears, you watch as he sways into your side “But it’s still fun and we can take some cute pics here.”

“Yeah, true.” You try to smile brightly but fall short. “Well I’m glad we’re getting some because Jungkook eats all the damn strawberries at home!” Taehyung watches as you giggle and he frowns.

You spend time walking side by side, taking lots of photos, and enjoying one another’s company. The wonderful breeze rushes through you, making you feel alive and well.

“No way! Trina did not do that!” Taehyung laughs so hard, shaking his whole body.

“I swear! I told her she was going to get caught but that bitch does not listen to me.” You laugh alongside him.

“And I swear to you, I was not about to get caught with her so me and Jungkook ran for it. I would rather fucking die.” You laugh again.

“You don’t say that type of stuff in front of Jungkook, do you?” Taehyungs tone becomes serious, surprising you.

“What stuff?” you tilt you head in confusion.

“You know ‘wanting to die’ bullshit. He really hates that because well, you know.”

“Oh yeah, I don’t say that around him, he’s real sensitive about that for some reason.” You laugh awkwardly, swinging your arms side to side as you two walk.

“Well for good reason. Right?”

“Huh?”

“It’s nothing…” Taehyung releases a shaky breath. “It’s not my place to tell you.”

“If it’s about my best friend—”

“Sorry. Not my place.” Taehyung says more harshly. “Let’s just change the subject.”

Your mind begins racing…why is Jungkook so sensitive about that? What isn’t he telling you?

“Don’t think too much about it y/n.” Taehyung says softly. “He will tell you eventually.”

“Oh…” you bow your head down, “Okay…”

“Well, tell me more about you Tae.”

“what do you want to know?”

“let’s start with the basics! What’s your favorite color?”

Taehyung looks up at the sky and hums to himself, “I don’t have one but today maybe it’s blue.”

“You don’t have a favorite color? Why blue today?”

“The sky. It’s so pretty. I wish I could find this exact shade of blue and recreate this sky…” he sighs to himself, “But then again maybe today it’s green.” He gestures towards your top. “Because it brings out the color in your eyes.”

You pause mid walk, tilting your head up at him. “You like green today because I…I’m wearing it?”

“Is that strange?” he stops walking as well, “Because your eyes—”

“Why not choose the color of my eyes?” you tease.

“Because I like what wearing green does to them specifically.” He rubs your shoulder, “Come on, let’s keep going.”

You nod your head and the two of you continue your walk, he takes your hand in his and you smile to yourself. This feels like a real date.

“What are you most afraid of?” you feel his hand grow sweaty in your palm. “Like, for example, Jungkook doesn’t like spiders or…”

“Being left.” He blurts out. “But yeah, not a fan of spiders either.” He chuckles.

“Being left?”

Taehyung walks towards a bench and sits down, you follow his lead taking a seat close to him. He takes a few deep breaths and lowers his head.

“Imagine a parent or a significant other or even a friend…they say they love you and stuff…but then change their mind or something happens and they end up leaving. That’s what I’m most afraid of. Being left alone.”

You bite your lip, you realize he and Jungkook have this in common. Your hand rushes to find his, you gently stroke your thumb over his golden skin. “Someone would be absolutely crazy to abandon you, Taehyung.”

Surprising you, he scoffs.

“I’m serious…you are…just amazing. You’re sweet, funny, caring and kind and you make great art and you have great taste in movies…you also know the best pizza…” you continue to stroke his skin as you ramble, “You have the most genuine heart, Taehyung.”

Taehyung lifts his head to face you, he looks pained.

“y/n…”

“You don’t have to say anything, I’m here for you, you know?” you scoot closer to him on the bench and Taehyung leans into you.

“You’re too good to me…” Taehyung whispers so quietly you barely hear him. “You really think that of me?”

“Of course, I do. You make me feel…” the words die on your tongue when you feel Taehyung cup your jaw with his hand.

“You make me feel….too.” he whispers just loud enough that you hear him loud and clear.

Then Taehyung leans back, his hand dropping from your face, “I have to tell you something.”

“No.” you cut in. Whatever it is it can wait. Because…because you know it’s not something that will make you happy and you don’t want this weekend to be ruined. You just know.

“Tell me another time?” you lean into him, your fingers intertwining with his. “Please…”

Taehyung exhales deeply, frustration written all over his face. He turns in his seat to face you.

“Soon.” He promises.

“Ha, you sound like Jungkook.”

“Do you always find a way to talk about Jungkook?” Taehyung lifts your chin with his fingers.

“W-What?”

Taehyung looks serious for a second before he cracks a smile and laughs, “I’m just teasing you.”

~~~~~

“Wait, wait. So you’re telling me you ALSO love museums?!” Taehyung squeezes your hand in excitement.

“Yeah, they’re really interesting.” You smile.

“Oh my god, all our friends think they’re so boring. Well, Namjoon likes them. Anyway, why haven’t we gone on a museum date? I want to take you so bad now!” His eyes are shining like a child, you can’t help but adore him.

“Then let’s go sometime Tae.”

Taehyung lowers the basket he’s holding to the ground and takes your basket and sets it on the ground as well.

“I really…” Taehyung pauses, reaching his hand to grab yours. “Really had a nice time with you today.

You look down at your joined hands and smile. “Me too, Tae Tae.”

Taehyung leans over and pecks your cheek. It makes you smile.

“What was that for?” you ask shyly. “There’s no people around.” You chuckle a bit bitterly.

“Just felt like it,” his soft smile making you swoon. “Should we head back? My parents will probably be in bed by the time we make it back home.”

“Sure.”

~~~~~

The house is dark and quiet when you enter through the front door. Only the sound of the ceiling fan rotating in cold, noisy circles could be heard. It was oddly calming and made the long day catch up to you.

“Let’s get ready for bed.” Tae whispers into your ear and it tickles.

The two of you head up the flight of stairs and enter the bedroom. You take turns using the bathroom to get ready for bed, once all done you make your way under the covers and slowly close your eyes.

“y/n?”

You turn over in bed to face Taehyung, your faces just inches apart.

“Yes?” you whisper.

“I can’t thank you enough for doing this.” The guilt in his tone doesn’t go unnoticed by you, as usual. “I wish there was something more I could do for you…”

“You’re already buying me coffee.” You giggle.

“I want to do more,” Taehyung gulps “I want to…” he scoots even closer to you, his hot breath fanning your face. You can smell the mint from his toothpaste and his natural scent. It fills your nostrils and you suck in a sharp breath.

“You want to what?” you say with a shaky voice.

Taehyungs breathing begins to quicken, you can feel each rushed breath and you wonder what’s gotten into him.

“What do you want to do, Tae?” you ask again.

You can see Taehyungs tongue dart out to wet his lips and you can’t help but stare. His lips look so plump and delicious, you want a bite.

“I…I don’t know…” he turns to lay on his back. “Can I tell you a secret?” he whispers.

“Sure.”

“I wanted to kiss more than your cheek today.” He turns back over to his side to face you again. “Is that wrong?”

Taehyung wanted to kiss you? Like, kiss you kiss you? You feel happy, yes. But do you feel your heart racing in excitement? You don’t know.

“Tae—”

“Even now, I still want to…kiss you…” his hand brushes against the skin of your cheek and you start to feel your heart beat just a little faster. Finally…

“But,” he pulls backs, “It’s wrong, isn’t it?”

“Why would it be wrong?”

“Because…y/n…I have to tell you some—”

You quickly lean over to seal his lips with yours. Usually your kisses are short and sweet and tender but this time you use more force as you press your lips over his mouth, the kiss sloppy and heated. He instantly kisses you back with fervor, your tongue prodding its way into his mouth and he obliges in seconds, his tongue playing with yours. You moan into his mouth and Taehyungs hands are all over you, they travel into your hair, down your back, grabbing your hips and rubbing your ass.

“Tae…” you whine out

Taehyungs fingers play with the hem of your shorts and you push your hips into his.

“Please.” You beg for more.

“But wait—”

“Please.” You repeat.

Taehyung stares at you for several long moments, thinking of what to do…he wants to devour you, if he had to be honest. But is this right? But he…

Then his eyes go dark, his gaze piercing.

“I’m going to taste you.” He says in voice so deep you even question that its him.

Next thing you know your shorts are pulled down along with your panties and Taehyungs mouth is an inch away from devouring you.

“Gonna make you feel so good.” He groans into your heat, his tongue licking a strip from your hole to your clit. And again and again. You quietly whimper into the pillow as his tongue fucks you.

“More Taehyung, more…” you moan, your hands gripping his hair.

Taehyung smirks up at you and inserts two fingers into your greedy cunt, he curls and scissors them inside you making you weep pathetically.

“That feel good sweetheart?”

Then he’s diving back in, his tongue assaulting your clit until you feel the buildup of your inevitable orgasm—you mean, it is Kim Taehyung.

He gives your clit one last good suck before you are reaching your high, pulling on his locks and moaning at a higher pitch. Fuck, that was good.

“You sound so fucking hot when you come…” Taehyung moves back up the bed as you lay there breathless. “Next time I want you coming on my—”

Taehyung stops himself from finishing that sentence. You watch as he groans into his hands, “I mean, if you want there to be a next time.”

“Of course I do, Tae.” You flip to your side and find his lips. You give him a long kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue. “How could I not?”

Taehyung savors your lips on his, he finds his hands in your hair again as he deepens it. He should feel like shit but somehow he feels…good. And he’s confused as hell for it.

~~~~~

The next morning comes by quickly, you are saying your goodbyes to the Kim’s with promises that you will return soon. And you secretly hope you do.

The drive back to Uni is a slow one, you and Taehyung listen to his playlist and chat every now and then while he holds your hand. You smile like an idiot the whole time.

Taehyungs phone is in your hand as you slide through the music options, you’re about to choose a song when he receives an incoming text.

Anna 10:08am

You think that will work, Taehyung? Try harder.

You slide the message up, trying to ignore it. You don’t want some stalker to ruin the good mood you’re in. But you can’t help but wonder what she is talking about. And why hasn’t he blocked her? You don’t say anything to Taehyung, he is also in a good mood and you don’t want to ruin it. He’s humming the tune from the car speakers and lifts his hand that holds yours and kisses it.

Another hour passes and you and Taehyung are in front of your apartment.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you up?” Taehyung questions sweetly.

“I’m sure!” you stand on your tip toes to kiss his cheek and turn around to walk away.

“Oh no you don’t.” Taehyung chuckles as he pulls you in for a kiss on the lips. Then another kiss and then another. “Now you can go.” He teases.

You break out in a wide grin, and tilt your head up to kiss him one last time.

You walk up the steps to your apartment, and walk towards your front door. What an amazing weekend, you think. You got to know Taehyung a lot better, you met his parents and you two shared an unforgettable night—at least for you. Oh no. Should you have returned the favor? Instead of worrying about it you decide it’s okay, he owes you after all. You chuckle to yourself as you unlock the front door.

You step inside your apartment with a an idiotic, dopey ass smile plastered on your face.

“What’s with you?” Jungkook asks from the living room couch.

“Oh nothing,” You sing, “Just had a really good weekend.”

“Oh? So I guess meeting his parents went well?” Jungkook stands to meet you at the entrance, he takes your bag for you and sets it down.

“That too.” You giggle.

Jungkook cocks his head to the side, “I’m serious, what’s up with you?” he can’t help but smile. You look so happy.

“Nothing we just… we just…” you bite your lip, contemplating on what to tell Jungkook.

“You… just?” his smile begins to fade as realization hits him. Then his face hardens. “Did he fuck you?” Jungkook’s voice is lower than you have ever heard it.

“What?” you choke out.

“I asked if this asshole fucked you?”

“Okay, one: he’s not an asshole. Two: no, he did not fuck me.”

Jungkook visibly relaxes.

Telling Jungkook the truth will probably only upset him for some reason so you decide against it. You don’t need his negativity right now. Finally, fucking finally, Taehyung is crossing a line with you…on the side where friendship is beginning to become blurred and nothing makes you more excited. You have been waiting for this, you have spent so much time with him and and… you need this.

“Okay…” Jungkook leans down and picks up your bag and heads to your room. You watch as he swings the bedroom door open and set the bag inside.

“Wanna order some food?” he calls out, walking towards you again.

“Honestly we got up pretty early this morning so I think I’ll take a quick nap. But after? If you’re willing to wait a couple hours?”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Get some rest.” He smiles, jumping back on the couch and pressing play on whatever show he was watching.

Your bed is so unbelievably soft and warm that as soon as you sink in the sheets your eyes are already closing in exhaustion. But your mind stays awake…you think about the weekend you just had with Taehyung and all the progress you have made. You like him so much, you want nothing more than for him to feel the same way. At least you think you…anyway. You recall his lips kissing down your body, his tongue teasing your thighs, his hands gripping your hips.

Taehyungs dark eyes as he stares up from you is without a doubt one of the sexiest things you have had the pleasure of witnessing. Wait—why one of? Why can’t it be the sexiest thing you have ever seen? Then different images bombard your brain but you’re quick to throw them away. Only Taehyung lives in your mind rent free, god damn it. He ain’t gotta pay a penny.

You think about the light, teasing kisses he left on your neck…you think about his fingers and how they fucked you, god they felt so fucking good. You smile as you think about what else he could do for you…your lazy smile widens at the thought.

Your eyes are still closed and images of Taehyung run wild in your mind as you start to doze off. Yes, you can fall asleep with him in your thoughts. Your body feels heavier and heavier as sleep finally takes over, you welcome Taehyung in your dreams as well. At least you hope you dream of him.

The bed creaks beneath you as Jungkook guides you further up the mattress, his body hovering your own. His hands come to slide up your arms as you shiver under his touch.

“I’m giving you goosebumps.” He says while lightly stroking your arm, feeling each bump under his fingertips. “What else do I do to you?”

“So many things Jungkook…” you heavily breathe out, your chest is heaving at this point. The anticipation of his touch is driving you nuts.

“Need to find out.” He simply states, his head lowering down to the crook of your neck. He breathes you in and lowers himself between your spread legs.

“Can I touch you?”

“Yes, please.” You don’t mean to whimper, but you do. You fucking do.

Jungkook’s slender fingers make their way skimming across your bare stomach until he reaches the hem of your panties. He lifts the band up and slaps it against your skin.

“I want these off, is that okay?”

You only nod your head.

“Words y/n. When you’re with me you use your words okay baby?” His fingers begin lowering your panties down. “Lift yourself for me.” And you obey. Jungkook slides your panties down your legs and you’re left completely naked underneath him.

“God, I can just see how wet you are.” You immediately force your legs shut, feeling embarrassed at his words.

“Not uh, I don’t think so. You got this wet for me? I want to see it. Open for me, baby.” Very hesitantly you begin to move your legs apart, the blush on your face deepening.

The rest is almost a blur. You can recall his fingers spreading your folds, you whining for him to touch more of you. You can recall his mouth hovering your pussy, his tongue swirling around your clit. You can recall his fingers stretching you out and moaning out his name. It’s what came next that is very clear in your mind. Its him kissing your lips, whispering sweet nothings into your ear and his cock sliding between your folds. The desire you feel for him is very real and he can feel that.

“Please, Jungkook!” You gasp out, as he teases his cock at your entrance.

Jungkook slides his gorgeous cock into you inch by glorious inch. His cock twitching inside your pulsating pussy, his harsh breaths fanning your face. Jungkook slams his eyes shut, his teeth gritting in anticipation as he waits for you to give the ok. You only gasp for air as he bottoms out, his dick reaching places no one ever has before, you slowly nod your head giving him permission to fuck you into oblivion. He says he could, so you’ll believe him. .

Jungkook opens an eye to look at you carefully, your face contorted in pleasure showing him how you are indeed okay to go on. Jungkook’s hand massages your hips, his touch setting your skin on fire. He begins to slowly ease out of you until just the tip remains then he slams his hips into yours. His body falls forward and he lifts your head up with his free hand and brings you closer for a wild kiss. He grinds himself into you deliciously, his hips rocking back and forth causing you to moan out for him over and over.

“Please…please.” You pant, rolling your hips into his as you meet his desperate thrusts.

“Please what, princess?” he breathes out heavily, “Told you that when you’re with—” He begins fucking into you faster, “When you’re with me…to use your words.” His pace is bruising, causing you to choke on the air around you.

“Please, harder.” You manage to get out while gripping on to his wide shoulders, your finger nails digging into his soft skin.

Jungkook smirks down at you, his eyes shining with something you can’t quite describe.

“Harder?” he questions, his lips coming down to suck bruises into your neck. “Deeper too?” he bites a particular spot that makes you groan.

“Just—just need more of you…” you grab his hair by the handful and yank his head back and bring his face to yours. Your lips meeting his.

His tongue slips past your lips, tongues dancing to the beat of his thrusts. His cock is buried so deep within you that you feel you are no longer a single person but now a person merged with another. You have never felt more connected.

Jungkook whines at the sight of you—your lips apart and eyes barely open. Your head is thrown back showing Jungkook all the pretty blooming bruises on your skin.

“So fucking pretty.” He grits out, eyes lit on fire.

You’re barely able to respond as he thrusts into you even harder, your tits bouncing with each movement.

“Gonna come soon…” he says between heavy breaths, his pace becoming sloppy.

“Gonna come inside me?” you cry out, your fingernails digging into his back.

“Need you to come with me baby”

You could of came from his cock alone, that you are sure of but when his fingers meet your sensitive clit, you are seeing stars. He’s rubbing messy circles, easily sliding around from how wet you are, his fingers getting drenched.

It’s almost embarrassing how quickly his fingers bring you to orgasm.

You gasp out, voice hoarse from all the moaning and screaming he’s drawn from your body. “Fuuuuuucckk.” You whine, your orgasm leaving you breathless.

“I—I’m coming…” he pants in your ear, his breath tickling your sensitive skin.

He fucks into you quickly before stilling his hips and shooting his cum deep within you, decorating your walls. He doesn’t move. You don’t move. He stays buried to the hilt, breathing heavily into the crook of your neck. You aren’t much better, your breaths also harsh. You look to the nightstand to read the clock that says 4 AM. Fuck, what did you do?

You just fucked your best friend.

Panicked and out of breath, you sit up in bed. Sweat forming on your hairline and dribbling down the side of your face. Why? Why this dream of all dreams? Why this memory?

#bts #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #kim taehyung #taehyung smut #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst

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moshymosh · 5 years ago

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The Switch pt 3

A/N: This is the next part, some shit is getting started in this. This whole series was so fun to write, send me some head cannons for this and ill do some.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes X Stark!Reader

Summary: One woman’s dream and one man’s drunken mistake. Will things turn out ok or will things go downhill.

|Previous part | Next Part|

Bucky sighs and sits on his bed as he sorted through his mail that Steve handed him at lunch.

"Junk, Fanmail, Fanmail, Fanmail, Junk, and more junk." Bucky said as he tossed the envelopes to the side until he reached a baby pink one and written on, it was Y/N's handwriting. Smiling, he began to open it and pulled out the card inside of it, not noticing the pink and blue confetti that fell to the floor.

The card was an invite to Y/N's party. The invite said, "You're invited to Y/N's I'm getting pregnant party." Bucky chuckled and looked down at his feet at the sperm shaped confetti that fell from the envelope at this sight he busted out laughing. He double-checked the time on the invite and then looked up at the clock. He was almost an hour late. Rushing to get ready, he made it into Y/N's apartment just shy of the hour lateness.

Bucky made his way over to the makeshift bar on Y/N's kitchen island, pouring himself a glass of Asgardian mead and looked around at the people in the apartment. He recognized his teammates and a few other people, but everyone else must have been friends of Y/N. Bucky was off in his own world, he didn't notice Wanda sliding up beside him.

"Hey, Bucky." Wanda said, giggling when Bucky flinched beside her.

"Hey, Wanda, so who throws an insemination party?" Bucky mumbles as he takes a drink from his glass.

"This whole night was my idea, it's how everyone is doing it these days." Wanda says while waving at Nat and Vision across the room. "Y/N is going to go into the other room, then we're all going to leave, and she's gonna, like, do the deed with this big baster." Wanda finishes holding up a big turkey baster in front of Bucky.

Bucky looks at what she's holding up in shock "Uh... shouldn't that be uh, like, cleaned or something?" he looks at the bar beside Wanda. "Why is it up here?"

Wanda laughed and started tapping him on the head and shoulders with it. "I'm messing with you." Bucky batted her hands and the baster away. Once Wanda sat the baster down, she turned back to him with a shrug. " She's going to use a medical device, but it's basically the same thing."

Bucky turned and muttered a 'Charming.' as Wanda walked away to go dance with Nat. He walked around the kitchen island to go refill his drink.

"This is a strange one." A man beside him muttered as he filled up his own drink.

Bucky looked up from his task with a hum. "Only Y/N and Wanda would do something like this." He said, looking back at his glass as he filled it, the mead did a good job of getting Thor and the super-soldiers drunk.

"Oh, I don't know Y/N very well." The man said as he turned to Bucky. "I'm Nathan." He stated as he held his hand out to Bucky. Once Bucky shook his hand Nathan said something that shocked Bucky. "I'm the uh, donor."

"I'm Bucky, the best friend, Y/N's best friend." Bucky stated as he turned to lean back against the counter. "So uh, why you doing this?"

"Uh, we need the money." Nathan said, taking a drink with his glass with a sharp intake of breath through his teeth.

"We?" Bucky asked him, looking at Nathan over his glass that he started to take a drink of.

"Yeah, My wife and I." Nathan said, nodding his head before pointing to a girl standing by the elevator looking around awkwardly. She stuck out like a sore thumb.

"Ok." Wanda said, walking up to Bucky and Nathan, placing a Viking helmet, that was obviously from a costume shop, on Nathan's head. "It's game time."

Bucky gave Nathan a tight-lipped smile as Wanda lead Nathan somewhere in Y/N's apartment. Bucky sighed, finished his drink, and filled it up again. He repeated the process another time, trying to curb his jealousy that Nathan was going to be the father of Y/N's baby and not him. Bucky sighed deeply again and pushed himself off the counter that he was still leaning against and went to look for Y/N.

Bucky stopped outside of her bedroom door, he peeked in the crack in the door from the door being slightly open. He felt his heart stutter at the sight of her. Y/N was sitting on the alcove that was against the window of her bedroom, she was wearing high waisted black shorts, an oversized white shirt, that she obviously stole from him, that was tucked into her shorts. Her leather jacket she must've taken off throughout the night was on the alcove by her feet.

To Bucky, she was breathtaking, he wished he could make her his. Bucky tapped against the doorframe to get her attention. Bucky smiled at her when she looked over her shoulder at him.

"Hi, Bucky boy." Y/N said sweetly as he walked into the room, shutting the door behind him

"I just met your Viking." Bucky said as he moved her jacket so he could sit with her.

Bucky pulled her sock-clad feet into his lap, beginning to rub small circles on her ankles.

"Gorgeous, isn't he?" Y/N hummed out while she turned her head to look out the window again.

"Yeah, delicious." Bucky said sarcastically, looking over at her. "What's going on?"

Y/N looked back at him, her heart fluttering at the sight of his ocean blue eyes. "The truth?"

"Mhm." Bucky hummed, reaching up to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear.

Y/N smiled at the gesture. "I'm freaking out." She said as she looked down at the glass of wine in her hands. "I really thought that throwing a party would, you know, make it fun, but it's just really depressing." Y/N looked back up at him as she finished speaking.

Bucky smiled, sadly to her, tilting his head slightly. " Come on Y/N/N."

"You think that I'm crazy, don't you?" Y/N asked him while she reached forward to grab his metal hand. Bucky's heart soared as she began to play with his fingers.

Bucky smiled down at their hands. "I think that you wanna have a child, and I think that that's natural. You're not nuts." Bucky looked up as she took a deep breath, her eyes still glued to their hands. Bucky clasped her hand in his metal one, gently before he spoke. "You're ok."

Y/N smiled at him as she looked up from their hands. "Thank you." She said, reaching forward to hug him. "Oh, Bucky, thank you." She leaned up and pressed one hand on his cheek so she could kiss the other. "You get it."

Bucky smiled as she leaned her head on his shoulder before he kissed her forehead. He smiled again as he rested his head on top of hers, thinking that this is where she belonged, like this with him. She hugged him tighter with a grunt before getting up.

"Where's my crown?" Y/N asked as she looked around for the flower crown Wanda and Nat made for her. When she found it, she put it on, sighing out, "I'm going to be fine." Turning around to look at Bucky as he sat on the alcove.

"I'm just a little emotional." Y/N nodded at him.

"Your crown looks fantastic," Bucky said genuinely as he smiled at her.

"Bye, Bucky boy." She said softly, waving as she walked to the door. Once she left, Bucky sighed and turned to look out her window at the setting sun. The sound of the party pouring in the door, which she left slightly open when she took her leave. Bucky sighed again at his glass as he raised it to his mouth and finished it off.

Bucky got up with a grunt, leaving the room to refill his glass yet again. Bucky was about six glasses of Asgardian mead in when he leaned up against one of the concrete supports that were littered throughout the apartment when he heard Wanda call out for a toast.

"Before we get to the nitty-gritty and kick you all out." Wanda smiled as she received a few howls and laughs. "I'd like to purpose a toast to our donor Nathan." Wanda said as she raised her glass of wine and searched the open room for him, once she spotted him, she pointed him out to everyone.

"How'd it go in there?" Tony asked, earning a slap on the arm from Pepper.

"I'd also like to toast to our Y/N." Wanda said as she held her glass up to the woman in question.

Bucky smiled fondly at the girl of the hour as he swayed slightly against the post.

Bucky tuned out the rest of Wanda's toast, he was way too drunk to pay attention to her, he was busy daydreaming about what a life with Y/N by his side would be like. Bucky was snapped out of his thoughts when he felt the urge to use the bathroom.

Bucky pushed himself off the post and stumbled to use Y/N's guest bathroom, leaning against the wall he pounded against the door with his flesh hand. "Dude, I'm in here!" A female voice called out as he pounded on the door. He pounded on the door again before he got another response from the woman inside. "Go use the other one!"

Bucky groaned and pushed himself off the wall heading to the bathroom in Y/N's bedroom. Bucky turned against the shut bathroom door, seeing all of Y/N's fertility calculations and trackers, he giggled at the sight. "Oh, Y/N." Bucky sighed and went to do his business.

When he finished, he went to wash his hands and splash a little water on his face, reaching for a towel on the bottom shelf of the shelving unit. Drying his face, still crouched, he looked up, towel paused on his chin. Bucky squinted his eyes and tilted his head to clear the slight blurriness from his eyes.

There sat on a warmer was Nathan's donation in a collection cup.

#bucky barns x reader smut #bucky imagine #bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x y/n #seb stan x reader #seb stan x y/n #Karmawrites #Moshymoshwrites

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the-quiet-winds · 6 years ago

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Changing Like the Tides

a new oneshot by @ichlugebulletsandcornnuts and i! woo! this was originally a joke between us, and then we settled in to write it and it went a very different direction.

[12am edit: thank god for scheduled posts]

not much else to say but enjoy!

“girls night” sounded like a good idea to katherine until jane ordered her first cocktail, when she realized her mum hadn’t had a drink more than a glass of sweet wine in...how many years?

but she hasn’t realized that yet. “cheers, mum,” katherine says, raising her own drink.

“cheers, kat,” jane smiles, clinking their glasses together. “it’s so nice to get some us time, you know? we’re always so busy on tour these days.”

she takes a sip of her drink through the straw. the slight face of shock jane made at the strength of it really should have tipped katherine off to how the evening was going to go, but instead she brushed it off.

they talk as they sip their drinks, jane’s voice gradually rising in volume as she finishes. then asks for another drink. katherine probably should have stopped her, but she really didn’t think about it in the moment. it wasn’t until jane finished her second drink, already in a heavily tipsy haze, that katherine made the connection of the strength of the alcohol and her generally sober mother.

“shall i get us another one?” jane asks brightly, voice slurring just enough to worry katherine. she shakes her head.

“it’s okay, mum, I think I’ve had enough.” what she really meant was ‘I think you’ve had enough’, but katherine didn’t want to offend jane or anything like that.

“suit yourself!” jane says with a bubbly giggle, then orders herself another. by the end of her third, everything is more than hazy, but she can see her beautiful daughter’s face in front of her. “oh my darling kat,” she murmurs with a watery smile. “how much your mum loves you.” then, even in the dark of the bar, it’s obvious that there are tears on jane’s cheeks.

katherine shifts slightly uncomfortably, noticing the tear tracks on jane’s cheeks. “i love you too, mum.” she glances around once before looking back to jane. “um, do you think it might be time to head back? I mean, it’s getting late.”

that much was true, although they’d specifically chosen this night to be a girl’s night because they didn’t have a show the next day, so in theory they could stay out as long as they wanted. in practice, however, katherine would rather get jane back home considering the emotional state she was in.

“no not at all!” jane protests, wiping at her eyes. “your old mum is breaking up the fun. this night is for you.” jane puts a hand on katherine’s. “you, my lovely daughter.”

despite the situation, katherine can’t help but smile at jane’s words; even now, the reassurance that jane really did love her and considered her to be her daughter made katherine feel overwhelmed with love. she decides to drop it for the moment and just enjoy the moment with her mum.

“can we get some snacks or something?” she asks jane, who smiles.

“of course, darling.”

when katherine requested snacks, she didn’t expect nachos, pretzels, sliders, and a cheese plate to materialize before them. but they did. and, unfortunately, so did a fourth drink for jane. katherine is still incredibly sober, nights with the other queens made sure of that, but as jane finishes her fourth cocktail, the sad-drunk comes out again. she grabs kat’s hand and doesn’t let go. “have i ever told you,” jane starts, words slurred and eyes slightly lidded, “how proud i am of you? every night you just go onstage and and...” she makes a slow sort of punching movement. “i love watching you sing and dance...you make your ol’ mum so proud...” there are tears in jane’s eyes again, yet they stay there.

“mum, i know,” katherine says awkwardly. “i love watching you perform too.” she pauses for a second, before continuing. “mum, are you okay?”

“of course i am, kitty-kat,” jane laughs a little bit too hard. “i’m with you! how could I ever be anything less than okay when i’m with my wonderful, perfect girl?” she smiles, but a second later she’s sniffling and wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

“mum, maybe we should go,” katherine says, trying to ignore the rush of affection at jane’s words. “i think you’re a little drunk.”

“me? drunk? psh,” jane laughs again, but then the tears return. “i just can’t stop thinking about how much i love you, kat. how happy you make me every single day.” she leans over to the young couple next to them, two women, somewhere between kat and jane’s age. “this is my daughter,” she slurs. “she’s perfect in every way.”

“sorry,” katherine mouthes silently at the two slightly startled women. she takes jane’s arm and gently pulls until jane’s sitting upright again, but jane stands up on her unsteady legs with a broad smile.

“excuse me,” she says to an older woman who happens to be passing by. “have you met my sweet perfect angel daughter?”

“mum!” katherine says more insistently. “i really think it’s time for us to head home!”

jane, in her boozy delusional fog, thinks she realizes what’s going on and it makes her wants to cry again. she throws a fifty on the table, not even caring about change, and drags katherine out of the bar with an unsettling degree of toughness. “are you ashamed of your mum? is that it?” she hisses once they’re outside. “don’t want to be seen in public with my mum!” jane says in a mocking falsetto.

“no, of course not!” katherine gasps, half indignant and half upset by the accusation. “I love going places with you! i’m just worried about you, mum.”

jane clearly wasn’t listening, holding katherine’s hand tightly as she pulls her down the street. “fine, let’s find a taxi if you want to go home so badly. serves me right for trying to have a good night out with my daughter.” her voice cracks at the end of the sentence and before she knows it tears are streaming down her face.

luckily, the street is fairly quiet. jane stops dead in the middle of the sidewalk and cries, face in hands and shoulder shaking. “if you didn’t want to go out with me,” jane says with a cracked voice through her tears, “you should have just said so. i’m sure boleyn or parr would have been just as happy.” her voice lowers. “why would you ever want to go out with your mum?” it’s mean to be sarcastic, but it just sounds pathetic to the vey drunk jane.

“mum, no, that’s not it!” katherine practically pleads. “i wanted to go with you!” she tries to take jane’s hands in hers but jane doesn’t let her, pushing katherine’s hands away. “why don’t we go home and talk about it there?” katherine beseeches her, eyes wide.

that was evidently the wrong thing to say.

“you are embarrassed!” jane sobs. “what’s the matter, am I causing a scene?” the mocking tone she tries to put in her voice is almost completely covered by the upset and hurt in her voice. katherine catches hold of jane’s arm.

“mum, listen to me, please!” she begs desperately.

jane roughly pulls away from katherine. her tears and her anger just keep coming (katherine makes a note that jane never gets vodka again, ever.) “you are embarrassed of me!” jane wails. then her voice goes stone soft, nearly sending a chill down katherine’s spine. “do you even want me anymore?” she pulls her face out of her hands to look at katherine, cheeks red and eyes burning with tears and drunk foolery. “did you ever even want me?”

“what?” katherine says, wide eyed and shocked. “mum, of course i do! I always have!” she tries to swallow down the lump in her throat but tears start glistening in her eyes before she can stop them.

“I love you, mum,” she chokes out. “please, you have to believe me.”

still jane isn’t listening, her drunken tears and anger (but mostly alcohol) blurring her mind. “i’m so sorry for forcing my way into your life,” she cries, anger giving way to just despair and heartbreak.

it takes all of katherine’s self-control not to burst into tears. she wasn’t getting anywhere with trying to reason with jane, that was clear, and she desperately racked her brain trying to think of what to do. all she could think of was that she needed to get jane home and safe; as much as it hurt her, she’d have to let jane be angry and upset with her until they get home, and hopefully jane would be slightly more sober then. although how she’s going to get jane into a taxi in this state katherine has no idea. she thinks as hard as she can, trying not to let jane’s accusations hurt her and failing as each word sends a pain straight to her heart and makes her stomach twist.

she pushes down her emotions and hails a cab. “come on you,” she commands, pulling on jane’s hand to get her into the taxi. she gives the driver the address, and the short drive is full of jane’s tears and incomprehensible words. the car stops outside their house and katherine flips the driver a 20 on an £8 tab and drags her mother inside.

katherine manages to get jane inside and sitting down on the couch before jane rips her arm from katherine’s grip. “we’re home now,” she says, voice thick and words barely distinguishable. “you can just leave me here, go and do whatever you actually want to do.” She dissolves into tears again and even more than the harsh words it hurts katherine to see her mother so upset like this. she sits down next to jane on the couch, almost sideways so she can look at her mum.

jane looks up just enough to see katherine’s ashen face. katherine’s hands fidget in her lap, fingers clenching and unclenching. jane laughs mirthlessly. “well now you’re just mocking me.”

“i’m not,” Katherine says quietly. jane raises an eyebrow.

“then why are you still here?”

“because i want to.” katherine’s a little bit bolder and she turns to face jane properly. jane gives a humourless laugh.

“no you don’t. I should have known better to begin with.”

“mum,” katherine starts, hating how much she sounds like a broken child. “why are you saying these things?”

“isn’t it true?” jane demands.

“no, mum,” katherine answers. her voice is weak and whimpery. “why won’t you believe me?”

“because you’re you!” jane bursts out suddenly. “you’re bright and beautiful and young and perfect, why would you ever want to spend time with your mum?” she stops, clasping a hand over her mouth as the tears start to fall again. “why would you ever want to spend time with me?”

the words hang between them for an agonizingly long time. katherine can’t even formulate a response, she’s so struck by the statement. “you have so much life and light,” jane whimpers, “what could i possibly offer you?”

katherine stares, words failing her. she’d spent the whole time since first meeting being so worried that she wasn’t good enough for jane, that sweet, kind, maternal, perfect jane would get sick of trying to fix this broken little girl and not want to spend any time with her any more, and not for one second had she ever considered that jane didn’t think she was good enough for katherine. it was almost inconceivable to her, and her mind couldn’t make sense of jane ever thinking that she was the one who wasn’t good enough.

“you don’t even realise, do you?” katherine says softly, the words slipping out accidentally. jane frowns through her tears.

“realise what?”

jane could feel the alcohol pounding through her system, but something clears out when she hears katherine’s accidental middle of words.

“realize what?”

“mum...” katherine starts brokenly, “you’ve offered me the only thing i’ve ever wanted.” she sniffles. “a family, a protector, someone who loves me for me.” katherine wipes at her eyes without breaking her gaze. “you, mum, are the best thing about this rotten world.”

katherine’s words cut through jane’s alcohol-induced state. she pauses, looking at katherine, at her tearstained face and wide honest eyes, and something hits her.

“you... you really mean that?” she says hoarsely, words no louder than a whisper.

katherine’s tiny smile manages to reach her eyes. “of course, mum. that day you invited me over for dinner,” she reaches over and takes both of jane’s hands, “you changed my life. i couldn’t imagine it without you, mum.”

“kat,” jane says, voice trembling. “oh, kitty-kat.”

she pulls katherine into a hug, tears flowing again as she holds her daughter tightly. “oh, sweetheart,” she sobs. “i’m sorry, i don’t know what came over me.” the alcohol still in her system meant that her tears flow faster than ever, and she can’t bring herself to let go of katherine, not yet.

katherine smiles through her own tears as she snuggles into her mother’s arms. “it’s alright mum,” katherine whispers. “maybe it’s time for bed for you.”

jane begrudgingly agrees, allowing kat to lead her up the stairs. by the time kat goes to her room, changes, and comes back, jane is already passed out. katherine, unable to resist, crawls onto the mattress and curls into her mum’s side, wanting nothing more than to be close and let her mum know that she is the most important person in katherine’s life.

———————————————————————————————————–

tag list: @percabeth15 @kats-seymour @qualquercoisa945 @jane-fucking-seymour @a-slightly-cracked-egg @justqueentingz @annabanana2401 @wolfies-chew-toy @broad-way-13 @tvandmusicals @lailaliquorice @aimieallenatkinson @sweet-child-why03 @gaylinda-of-the-upper-uplands @funky-lesbians@thinkaboutitmaybe @hansholbeingoesaroundzeworld @anaamess @beeskneeshuh @prick-up-ur-ears @theartoflazy@justqueentwo @brother-orion @paleshadowofadragon @lafemmestars @beautifulashes17 @jarneiarichardnxel @idkimbadwithusernamesandstuff @sixcago @mixer1323 @boleynssixthfinger @aimieallen @elphiesdance @boleynthebunny @krystalhuntress @lupin-loves-chocolate @bellacardoza16

#six the musical #six musical #jane seymour #katherine howard #julie and jess write #changing like the tides

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probably-not-star-lord · 7 years ago

Text

Surprise Date (Tony Stark x Reader)

A/N: I know I said I would be posting a lot this weekend but I was unexpectedly very busy so at least there is a little content from me :)

Request: Hello there! I was wondering if you could do a Tony Stark x Reader fanfic? One where the reader got stood up by someone else and he is there to comfort them? I'm bad at this, sorry. -.-

Prompt: You’re excited for the first date you’re going on in a long time. But when your date doesn’t show up, you’re surprised to see the person you wanted to go on a date with all along.

Warnings: swearing, fluff

You sit at the beautifully set dinner table shaking your leg anxiously. Your date was supposed to arrive a half an hour ago. The man you're expecting has been working at SHIELD for years. Being one of the top agents, you ran into him quite often. He’s cute, friendly, and knows how to make you laugh. When he asked you out to dinner a few days ago you happily agreed, even if this flirtatious coworker isn't necessarily the man you have your eyes on.

No, the man you long to be with is none other than Tony Stark.

You and Tony have been the best of friends for a very long time. Ever since you started working at SHIELD you’ve have the biggest crush on him. You started out merely as an intern, and Tony was the one who talked you up Nick Fury in order for you to be promoted. Now you have the job of your dreams all thanks to your crush. However, you know he would never feel the same way. Tony is Iron Man for fuck’s sake, he could have any girl he wants. If only the girl he wanted were you.

More time passes as you sit in the fancy restaurant dreaming about Tony. Your date has still not arrived and your anxiety levels are increasing by the second. The wine glass in front of you is slowly draining as you sip it every once in a while to ease the tension between you and the empty chair seated across from you. The waiters steal glances at you as you eye the door in anticipation. Soon an entire hour has passed with you sitting all alone.

The waiter approaches your table and gives you the most sincere smile he can muster in a time where you clearly need comfort. “Ma’am, are you ready to order?”

“Not yet,” you reply, shaking your head. “I’m still waiting on someone.”

“Are you sure they’re coming?” he asks, trying to remain as polite as possible.

You grit your teeth in anger at his presumptuous question. “He’ll be here.”

“Right, okay, just let me know when you’re ready,” he says before walking away in a hurry.

You burry your face in your hands in embarrassment. How could you get stood up? It’s not even like you’re really into your date, you only agreed to go out with him because you wanted to give him a chance. You let a few more minutes go by before officially deciding your date is never going to show up. Your eyes wander around the tables as you spot happy couples devouring their delicious meals or clinking their glasses together with a laugh. Those interactions are something you desperately want. They’re moments you desire to share with Tony.

The waiter makes his way over to your table once more. His hands are clasped together and you notice he has his fake smile on again. “Ma’am...”

You roll your eyes before checking the door one last time. “Yeah, I know,” you mutter. The waiter nods and steps back so you can stand from your chair.

“I’m here! I’m here! Don’t worry!”

You and the waiter turn toward the front door that was just thrown open. Tony stands there yelling and making a scene as he jogs over to your table. “Tony?” you ask, raising an eyebrow at your friend.

“I apologize for how late I am, darling, but I’m here now,” he replies, taking a seat in the chair across from you.

“Mr. Stark, is there anything I can get for you, sir?”

“We’re going to have your finest bottle of champagne, please,” he retorts with a grin.

“Certainly, sir,” the waiter acknowledges before dashing to the kitchen.

“You look rather fine this evening, Y/N,” Tony flirts as his eyes wander up and down your frame. He smiles at you from across the table and you meet his mischievous gaze.

“Tony...” You lean forward and keep your voice low. “What are you doing here?”

“Obviously I’m here for our date.”

“Well...I...I just wasn’t...” you stutter, unable to compose a complete sentence.

“You weren't expecting your date to be me?”

You shake your head with a laugh. “I guess not.”

“Listen,” he starts, his tone more serious now. “I saw the agent that asked you out back at Avengers Tower. He had no intentions of coming tonight, Y/N, I’m sorry.”

“What was he doing there?” you mumble.

“Well,” Tony scoffs, his brown eyes falling on the door. “He was busy flirting with one of the new interns.”

“Oh...”

“I had both of their asses fired.”

Your eyes widen. “You did? Why?”

Tony smiles, his eyes locking with yours. “Because I don’t want anyone who hurts you to be working for me,” he asserts.

“Thanks, Tony,” you reply, a slight blush creeping up to your cheeks. “That means a lot to me.”

“Anytime, kid,” he conveys. “Plus, I like to think I’m much better company.”

“Definitely,” you agree. “You’re much better than that asshole.”

Tony distractedly glances around the open space of the restaurant. “He certainly can’t pick a place for a proper date.”

“Tony this is the nicest restaurant in this part of the city,” you defend.

“I don’t like it here. I’m going to take you somewhere that we’d actually enjoy,” he declares, standing from his seat. You stand up as well and Tony extends his hand to you. As you head for the door you run into the waiter who is carrying the bottle of champagne Tony ordered. “We’re going to be taking that to go.”

The waiter hands him the bottle. “Of course, sir. Shall I put it on your tab?”

“That would be great, thanks,” Tony calls as he escorts you outside.

You stop walking as Tony pops open the bottle. “So you don’t like that restaurant yet somehow you have a tab there?” you ask, crossing your arms.

“Well, I get dinner there sometimes but I don’t think it’s for us, you know?”

“Us?”

“Yes...us.” Tony nods, taking a swig from the bottle and handing it to you. “I know a place you’ll like a whole lot better.”

You and Tony walk along the empty, city streets hand in hand, passing each other champagne every once in a while for a quick sip. He intends on taking you to a different place to eat and he comes to a halt right outside a burger joint. He holds his hands up high, displaying the front of the restaurant to you with a goofy grin on his face.

“This is the place?” you chuckle. Tony nods eagerly. “I love it.”

Tony leads you through the doors and drops you off in a brightly colored booth. You drink from the champagne bottle as you watch Tony order two burgers and fries at the front register. You admire the way he communicates with people so nicely and confidently. Those are the qualities you love about Tony and they play a huge part in why you fell for him in the first place. It’s unbelievable to you that Tony is so kind to the point where he is willing to help out a friend that just got stood up. Not only that, but he took you to a place where you and him can have fun. You shake your head and gulp down another sip from the drink, knowing Tony Stark has you in so much trouble.

He returns a few minutes later with your meal. The two of you eat the greasy food, enjoying every second of it. You down almost the entire bottle of alcohol and it’s evident you’re both getting increasingly tipsy after every gulp. Tony tells you hilarious stories and cracks jokes that make you laugh so hard it hurts. He listens to you share anecdotes about your life and loves hearing the way you talk about your friends and family. You lose track of time and soon you’re being kicked out of the restaurant as it closes.

Tony stumbles beside you on the sidewalk as the two of you giggle from the drunkenness. He notices you shivering in the cold air of the night and removes his suit jacket, wrapping it around your bare shoulders. You offer him an adoring smile. “Thanks, Tony.”

He brushes it off. “No problem.”

“No, really,” you say. “Thank you so much for everything tonight.”

“You don’t need to thank me, “ he clarifies. “I...I wanted...to come tonight and I ended up having an even better time than expected.”

You grin at his words, your cheeks heating up at the thought of knowing Tony enjoyed a date with you. You know it isn’t because of the alcohol or the fact that you and Tony are great friends, this is truly genuine. He takes your hand again as you walk, nearing your apartment building. You come to a stop and turn to look at Tony when you reach your home.

“Well...this is me.”

“I really did have a wonderful time with you tonight, Y/N,” he reassures.

“So did I,” you respond, looking deep into his brown eyes.

“I’d definitely like to take you out again sometime...” he adds, glancing down at your lips. “...on another date.”

Your eyes fall on his lips as well and the two of you lean forward slowly. His soft lips fall onto yours gently for a sweet, loving kiss. The kiss quickly grows deeper and more passionate as he brings a hand up to the side of your face to pull you closer into him. When he pulls away you can tell he is reluctant. Your eyes remain closed and you can hear him catching his breath.

“Goodnight, Tony,” you whisper with a grin. You slowly back away from him towards your building.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He returns your smile and walks off excitedly with confident steps. You’re so thankful that you got stood up tonight.

permanent tag list:

@lolabean1998 @thisismysecrethappyplace @crazystarlady

marvel tag list:

@verkyun

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theolddarkmachine · 6 years ago

Text

tell me (i’m ten feet down)

A reason, a continuation, and a reunion.

The first time Shiro’s drunken thoughts find Keith’s name at the bottom of a bottle, he’s twenty-four, and they’re in the middle of a war.

AO3

Rated: M

Tags: Canon compliant, Post S8, 3+1 Format, Mentions of background character but this is 100% Sheith, Angst with a happy ending

A/N: I won’t lie you guys, I am really proud of this. Who woulda thunk that all this craziness woulda been the inspiration I needed to get out of my writing rut. That being said, Curtis does show up in this but much like canon, he is but mere background.

**************************

The first time Shiro’s drunken thoughts find Keith’s name at the bottom of a bottle, he’s twenty-four, and they’re in the middle of a war.

It’s an errant thing, fuzzed at its edges, and saccharine, filled with all the same heat of warmed honey.

First, he chalks it up as a lingering thought. One that belonged to him, as if he was any different than Shiro was. Made up of the same blood and bone, their desires, their hopes, and their dreams all rang the same. The only difference was, he had never lied.

Not to himself.

Not when it’d counted.

I love you, the thought spirals, adding a new headiness to that of the sweet wine that has stained his lips. Keith had said that.

I love you.

Said it like a saving grace, reverent and feeling. He’d said it like last words. Shiro supposed, at the time, he had probably thought they were.

Now, those three words are circling his mind like the wisp of molten cabernet that has left him feeling pliant and his lips feeling loose, ready to sink ships.

He thinks about how he’d be in his room right now, just the opposite end of the hall from his own. It would take nothing more than a handful of strides, and a sharp rap of his knuckles against the door to see those burning eyes. To ask why.

I love you, he’d said.

The cool metal of a door against his skin wrenches him from his thoughts, surprised at where his feet have led him roiling low in his gut.

Seconds. It takes mere seconds before the door opens, and he’s there. Concerned, and bright, and there.

“Shiro?” Keith asks, voice smoke and tone liquid worry. His hair is rumpled, and his face soft with sleep.

A small yawn cracks his jaw.

“What’s wrong?”

Why? The question sticks to the roof of his mouth, dulled by the dry taste of the wine.

“Did you have a nightmare?” He continues, already moving out of the way to let him in. Behind him, Shiro sees Kosmo lift his head, tongue lolling and tail thumping in greeting.

For a brief, flashing moment, it feels like coming home.

“No,” Shiro manages, shaking his head as he crosses the threshold. He prays that Keith doesn’t miss the slight wobble of his step. A pleasant buzz rolls down to his toes, making them warm as he hears the door slide shut behind him.

“Can I stay here tonight?” He asks, words tumbling, stumbling from his lips before he can wrap them in a first thought.

Not, that he thinks it matters.

The thrum at the base of his skull tells him he would have asked anyway.

“Sure,” Keith answers, as if the sound of the locking mechanism wasn’t answer enough. It stokes a contented purr of heat to life in the center of his chest as Keith walks by him, silently inviting him to follow to the small bedroom through the door at the back of the living room.

It’s cozy.

It’s home, the wine whispers.

But it can’t be, Shiro bites back as he walks into the dark bedroom, lit only by the slices of moonlight through the shades. We’re in the middle of a war.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Keith asks, nothing more than a darkened shadow as he watches him from the foot of the bed.

“Yeah,” Shiro breathes as he imagines the look that would be twisting his mouth down. “Just didn’t feel like being alone tonight.”

It’s not a lie, so much as a small version of the truth.

Quiet, heavy and thick, rolls between them like a Southern storm. Sticking to his skin, it raises the hair at the back of his neck as he sees the shape of Keith nod.

“Okay,” he says quietly, moving to the side of the bed with the comforter turned down.

“Okay,” Shiro echoes, mirroring the movement from the opposite side of the bed. With the cover turned down, it’s inviting and plush, almost like the weight of the stare on him.

Not looking up, he settles down into the warmth of Keith’s all too familiar scent, eyelids growing heavy almost as soon as his head finds the pillow.

I love you, the ghost of a voice whispers in the dark as the bed dips beneath Keith’s weight.

Why? He wants to ask.

But that one word never comes.

They’re in the middle of a war.

There will always be time after, he thinks as he drifts soundly into sleep.

***

It’s whiskey the second time, and it burns the words right out of his mouth as he sees Keith looking over him through the bottom of his emptied tumbler. The glass warps him, but he still knows the exact look he has fixed on him, if only because it’s one he’s grown to know so well.

Molded of softened galaxies, it questions, and it worries, almost as if Keith continues to fear that he’ll just disappear.

As if it’s something that he might still fear the most.

The thought, carried on the back of a wave of liquid heat, licks its way down his spine and makes him shudder as he drops the glass on the bar counter.

Ice clinks softly against its confines, jostled by the sudden drop. He returns the appraising look, brazen and courageous as his mind warms with his drink of choice.

It’d been a year since that last time he’d let himself slip like this.

Shiro’s twenty-five now, and the war is over, but the rebuilding has just begun.

And Keith? Keith is leaving in the morning.

“What?” He asks, leaning back slightly in his bar stool as he questions Shiro and the stare he has fixed on him.

He knows it must look as if he’s far gone, lost to the mire of swirling whiskey that slightly blurs his vision. Shiro relies on that, because what he’s doing isn’t allowed.

What he’s doing, is memorizing the strength of Keith’s jaw, and the shape of the lines that crease the corners of his eyes. He’s memorizing the exact shade of his onyx waves, and the obsidian flecked galaxies trapped in his gaze.

What Shiro is doing, is being greedy.

It’s a fault of his really. Has always been when it came to Keith. On most days, he can tamp it down.

But today? Today’s the last day, and he feels it burning like acid in his lungs.

“What?” Keith asks again with a bright smile that Shiro adds to his collection before he looks down at his old, worn leather jacket. “Do I have something on me?”

“No,” Shiro answers truthfully, shaking his head as he pushes his Altean arm toward Keith’s still half full beer and moves it away from him. He tries to ignore the way it weighs a bit heavier now.

“I do think I’m cutting you off, though.”

A scandalized gasp, just this side of too breathy, rips from Keith’s chest as he slaps his hand on it.

“Takashi!” He exclaims before laughing, the sound lifting a pink flush to his cheeks. Shiro wonders if it’s closer to crushed peonies or a peaceful sunrise when Keith continues, voice softer.

Intimate.

Like he’s sharing secrets.

“You’re my best friend, you know.”

I love you, that old, pesky memory shadowed, buzzing like an undercurrent to his words. Shaking his head with a breathy chuckle, Shiro stands, ignoring his own gentle stumble as he offers an arm out to Keith.

“You’re my best friend, too,” he says, hoping the edge of it doesn’t sound as wrong to Keith as it does to his own ears.

Don’t go, he wants to add.

“Let me get you home, buddy,” Shiro says instead as Keith throws an arm over his shoulders and sidles off the barstool. His hair tickles his chin as he leans into him.

That’s another thing that Shiro mentally files away as he easily takes on his weight.

He’s grown so much taller.

“You’ve got a big day tomorrow,” he adds as an after thought as he pulls them both to the door.

The walk back to the barracks feels like it goes too slowly, and yet all too quick, filled with the quiet of the late night and the rolling warmth of the alcohol through his veins. It’s volatile, and it mixes like gasoline with the flame of Keith’s skin.

Shiro wonders if it will etch itself into his own, an unseen brand to carry with him over his heart.

Don’t go, he wants to say when they find themselves in front of Keith’s door.

“Here we are,” he says instead, bracing Keith as he reaches for the lock pad at the edge of the door. There’s a smooth sound as it slides open and he steadies himself against the frame. It’s quiet again, but this time it bows beneath the weight of expectation as Keith clumsily turns, pressing his back into the wall as he looks up at him.

“Here we are,” he agrees, pulling his stare languidly down Shiro’s chest and he feels it like claws. They tear and pull at his skin, and he’s certain if he looks down, he’ll see the stain of blood on his shirt.

“Want to come in?” Keith asks once his gaze flicks back up to capture his own.

Yes, Shiro thinks, need pulling like a hook behind his belly button as he shakes his head.

“I shouldn’t. You—”

“Have a big day tomorrow,” Keith finishes, mimicking his voice as he smiles.

Shiro doesn’t miss the way it doesn’t reach his eyes.

Don’t go. It hangs on the tip of his tongue, weighted by the dangerous bite of whiskey. All he needs to do is say it.

Two words, with a world of meaning, and all he needs to do, is say them.

Reaching out, Shiro offers his open palm by way of the words.

“Take care, Keith,” he adds, all too aware of the deep indent that works itself between his eyebrows as he takes in the gesture.

Keith is his best friend, something more than, even, and all he can think to offer him is a handshake.

Mentally, he files away his look of disappointment.

“You too, Shiro,” Keith says quietly, hands balled at his sides. They stay there for one breath.

Two breathes.

Three—

Flames erupt through his chest as Keith’s arms wind around his neck, anchoring him to him in a crushing hug. It steals his breath, and several beats of his heart, before he wraps his own around his waist and keeps him close.

Char aches deep in his chest, turning his bone black and filling his lungs with smoke.

It’s an honorable death, he thinks quietly with a small squeeze.

And then, he’s gone.

Cool air cascades over him, shocking his senses as Keith offers him one last smile.

Don’t go, he wants to plead.

“Goodnight, Shiro,” he says, dipping his head before pushing through the threshold of his suite.

“Goodnight,” Shiro offers, helplessly.

Hopelessly.

It’s met with the soft hiss of the door sliding shut, and the artificial silence of the hall.

All he had to do was say it.

But it never quite felt like the right time.

Moving quickly down the hall, limbs sobered by the interaction, he finds himself in front of his door.

Standing there, he turns his attention back to the other of the hall, a small, distant hope that Keith will be standing there.

He isn’t.

Shiro sighs lowly, lost to the way Keith’s heat is still burning against his skin in a way he’s sure will haunt him for the rest of the night.

It’s only meant to be a year.

There will always be time after, he thinks, as he unlocks his door.

***

Shiro’s twenty-eight, and alone in his study the third time.

It’s a hot sip of bourbon, and a rush of a thought, barely there and fleeting, but there all the same.

It’s a soft breath, and onyx waves that don’t match the brunette waiting for him in his bed.

With a quick shake of his head, he presses the half full glass to his desk, eyeing it as if it had any say to the intrusive thought.

The ever stray thoughts had been bound and stored in a hidden darkness at the back of his mind for two years now, leaving behind a ghost that follows Shiro everywhere he goes.

Even lost to the safety of a soft smile, and chocolate eyes, he still feels it like a weighted stare. All consuming, just like phantom he’d been trying to run from.

To compare the two would be an impossibility.

Keith had been a wildfire, filling his veins with smolder and soot, blackening his insides until there was nothing left, while Curtis was a soft ocean tide.

Cooling and calming, with the ability to pull him away from all the noise and settled a careful peace over his soul.

Exact opposites in near every way, it was easy to push down the pain of his forlorn thoughts and the wickedness of that voice at the back of his mind that licked around his thoughts like poison.

He’s not him, it used to hiss until Shiro had forced it down with a sheer determination.

He may not be him, but at least he’s here, he’d bitten back until the voice would recede back into the darkness.

Keith’s stay on Daibazaal, meant for just a year, had turned to two, and then three, with communications coming fewer and farer between.

Not that Shiro could even blame him for that. He was doing work alongside Krolia and Kolivan rebuilding the Galran empire, and rebuilding the Blades as a humanitarian force. Their breakthroughs had been revolutionary, and far beyond the scope of what any of the coalition had imagined for such a short amount of time.

Shiro understood, but it had left a distinct hole in his life that he hadn’t been able to fill with work, nor post-war efforts, nor burning liquor.

And then he’d met Curtis.

And then what had once been daily phone calls turned weekly phone calls, had become monthly phone calls, until Shiro couldn’t even remember the last time they’d spoken.

What had even been the last thing that Keith had said to him?

That’s right.

Congratulations.

Pressing his fist of papers down beside his glass, Shiro reaches for his holoscreen, life flickering across its surface as he started to search his contacts.

He could call him, he thinks.

Should call him.

Had he ever even been the one to call first, Shiro wonders, as he rolls through the alphabet before finding his mark.

Sucking the warmth of the bourbon from his teeth, his finger hovers over Keith’s name, a barely there space between his digit and the ‘K.’

It would be so easy to close the distance with a quick tap. Can already hear the tinkling chime of the holoscreen ringing and waiting to be answered. Shiro can even hear the soft sound of Keith saying his name.

A judgement weighs heavy on him with the imagined sound, wrapped around his left ring finger in the form of a shining silver band. Looking down at it, he can’t help but notice the way it winks at him with the soft light of his lamp, watching and waiting.

He deserves better, Shiro thinks with a sigh before switching the screen off.

Shiro doesn’t linger too long on the fact that even he doesn’t know which he he means.

Huffing a loud sigh, he pushes the screen away and rubs a hand over his eyes. It’s a futile attempt at scrubbing the bourbon laced thought from his mind.

Instead, he sees the flash of distant galaxies, and a pretty pink flush pressed against the backs of his eyelids.

“Enough,” Shiro growls suddenly, pushing his chair back and standing in one smooth motion. Snatching his glass off of his desk, he quietly pads down the hall to the dark kitchen.

There will always be time after, a small voice offers as he dumps the rest of his drink down the drain.

No, he chides, just a shade off bitter, as he sets the tumbler to the side. There won’t.

It’s the last drink he has.

***

Shiro is thirty the last time, and it didn’t take a drink at all.

They’d all met for the fifth anniversary of their loss, and the universe’s gain, and it’s the first time Shiro has seen Keith since the divorce. It’s a fact he becomes all too aware of when he sees the way Keith’s gaze flicks to his hand, and then back up, softening at their edges before he offers him a handshake.

The motion tugs at a distant memory as he finds his head spinning with the intensity of Keith’s amethyst eyes as he takes his open palm.

His stare burns like wildfire.

It always had.

Lingering with palms pressed flushed for a tick longer than strictly necessary, Shiro pulls away when he felt something a lot like lightning crack against his sternum.

I love you, the whisper tickles at his ear in the same way it had for far too long now.

And then, that was it.

Keith had nodded, expression resigned and all knowing as he walked towards where the others have their heads ducked together to look at something Hunk had pulled up on his holoscreen.

Shiro didn’t miss the way he’d pointedly chose a seat on the other end of the table from where he sat, or the way his tone had been diplomatically pleasant when they’d addressed each other. It had been easy to brush away beneath the conversation with their friends, but dinner didn’t last forever, and soon, they were parting ways once more.

More importantly, Keith was leaving once more.

“Let me walk you to your suite,” Shiro calls after him, stopping him before he can disappear into the night. Time folds around itself as he waits for a response, drawing lines across the back of the faded red leather of his jacket.

It’s a shade he’s only ever been able to associate with Keith.

Looking over his shoulder, Keith sizes him up with a dangerous flash in his eyes. Tension rocks down Shiro’s spine in the balanced moment before Keith’s eyes soften and he shrugs.

“Alright,” he throws over his shoulder as he starts to walk once more. The invitation stalls Shiro, roots him in place just long enough to paint real distance between them once more.

Jogging to catch up, he falls in line with Keith’s steps as they make their way towards the proud standing barracks.

It’s like a long lost memory as they move through the quiet night, side-by-side in a silence that they had never needed to be filled. Almost as if nothing had changed at all.

Electricity picks at his sternum as he tracks the path through a memory of a drunken night, a missed confession, and deep regret.

He wondered, if he truly picked through all of his thoughts, how many times he’d made this walk, only for it to come down to the same results.

And then, they’re standing in front of his door.

“Here we are,” Keith pushes through a smile, echoing what felt like a lifetime ago.

Here we are, Shiro had said last time.

“Can I come in?” He says this time.

Shiro feels the hesitation before he sees it in the way his smile disappears, replaced instead by an electric tension in Keith’s shoulders. It’s palpable, the way it’s roiling under his skin like a lightning storm looking for an escape.

The pause feels like a small eternity before he finally nods, turning away to press his palm to the lock pad. Keith never was good about not letting him in.

He aches with the fact that he’s undeserving of that too.

Not looking back, Keith steps over the threshold, flicking the light on to reveal the all too familiar layout. Dust and the thick scent of mustiness cling to it, but it’s still the same.

Shiro had never been able to let them reassign it.

The soft swish of the door closing behind him seals him into the dizzying feel of deja vu.

“What happened?” Keith asks, not turning to look at him as he speaks, dropping his jacket on the unused couch. Leather hitting the cushions is the only sound that stands between between. The air feels dangerous with the delicate quiet.

It’s just waiting to be shattered.

“What do you mean?” He asks, but he knows. Shiro can feel the absence of his ring like a loosened noose.

It doesn’t choke, but it’s there.

It’s the wrong thing to say, and he knows it as soon as the question drips from his lips. All the evidence he needs is the way Keith turns on his heel with a snarl twisting his lips.

“You know what I mean,” he growls, eyes flashing yellow and expression fierce. In that moment, Keith looks inhuman. Galran.

Beautiful, Shiro’s mind supplies.

The flash is a mere second before his face crumples and he pulls a deep breath between his teeth. Taking a step back, he levels Shiro with a look of composure before he repeats, “what happened?”

The truth of it is, nothing happened. Comfortable, and safe, their relationship was a tepid thing, ending in a mutual split. There hadn’t been any mess to it, which, almost made it worse.

You were never meant for this life, Takashi, Curtis had said before pressing a last kiss to his lips, and his ring to Shiro’s open palm. Shiro had heard the undercurrent of what he’d really meant.

You were never meant to be with me.

He’d tried denying it. To Curtis. To himself.

Shiro had loved him. He truly had. But love, as it turned out, wasn’t enough when you’d already been broken apart and rebuilt by the hands of someone else.

Keith’s mark had been left on him like a signature, like a brand, and no matter how he’d tried to hide it, it still bled through.

“Keith,” Shiro breathes, soft and low. It’s a plea for salvation. For repentance. For everything he’s done wrong. He’s done so much wrong.

They were supposed to have had time.

I was always meant to be with you, he wants to say.

“Shiro,” Keith counters, and it cuts like a warning, sounds like a curse.

“It didn’t work,” is all he manages. It comes out strangled, a wisp of a truth that barely brushes past his lips.

“It didn’t work,” he repeats, trying to put strength into his admission.

“Why?” Keith pushes, folding his arms over his chest defensively. The stance makes him look smaller, even if his gaze burns straight through him.

Shaking his head, Shiro begins to the the room as it begins to shrink around them. The weight of the walls crush into his shoulders, pressing the air from his lungs.

They were supposed to have had all that time.

I love you, Keith’s voice roars at his ear, as if it was from the Keith made of flesh and bone, and not that ghost that had clung to him for so long.

“You have to know,” Shiro all but whispers, dropping his stare long enough to catch his bearings before looking up through his lashes in time to see the way Keith falters.

I love you. Keith had unknowingly haunted his dreams with those three words that he’d never been able to return.

There was supposed to have been time.

I love you.

“I love you,” Shiro lets his words curl around the memory. They fall bluntly between them, landing flat and dull, before there’s a flash of movement and the sharp snap of his head against the door.

It triggers another memory that he can see flash in the yellow of Keith’s eyes.

They stay yellow this time.

“Why,” Keith bites out, snapping the syllable between his fangs. “Why now?”

Heat crushes against his windpipe as Keith presses into him with the flat of his forearm. The pressure catches his words in his throat, forcing him to shake his head against it as he tries to turn his gaze anywhere than the flames that threaten to turn him to ash.

There’s no good answer.

Not one that will make it better, anyway.

Keith leans further into his forearm.

“Always,” he chokes out. Tears catch at the corners of his eyes as his lungs start to burn with the lack of air, but he doesn’t struggle. Doesn’t try to pull away.

Shiro’s done that enough.

“I didn’t say it.” His voice is nothing but scraps beneath the choke of his arm. “Keith.”

There’s a tremble against his throat, then the squeeze of more pressure before Keith hisses and pushes away. Cool air falls on him, filling his lungs as he gasps in an attempt to drag as much of it as he can down into his chest. Anything to put out the wildfire that’s waging a war beneath his bone.

“You didn’t say it,” Keith agrees, eyeing him warily. His stance is animalistic, and ready to flee. “You didn’t say anything at all.”

A lick of thunder, palpable and crushing rolls between them.

“Keith,” Shiro tries once he’s caught his breath only to be cut off.

“I waited,” Keith says lowly, shifting his stare downward. “You needed time, and I waited.”

“And then you left.” He doesn’t mean to say it. It’s a knee-jerk reaction to an infinitesimal moment in a long list of cataclysmic events.

Keith had left once, but Shiro had left time and time again.

“And you let me!” He hurls back, heaving with the burden of his anger. “Then you got married.”

The last word is a sneer, and it buries itself in the middle of Shiro’s chest as he flicks his gaze past Keith’s shoulder and to the off white wall. He’d look anywhere to avoid the cutting edge of hurt that has turned Keith into a weapon of the strongest design.

“So was he the replacement,” he growls, “or am I?”

The blow is low, and aimed for the space between his ribs where it stabs through him like a heated knife. It rakes a gasp, hard and harsh, from deep in his throat as he looks up in time to see the way Keith bites into the meat of his bottom lip.

“Neither of you,” Shiro wraps the answer in a whisper that shatters something in the tension holding Keith’s shoulders so taught. Visibly deflating, he watches the way Keith’s knuckles pull white over bone as he clenches his fists, and then lets go.

A vague flicker of something a lot like hope licks at Shiro’s nerves when he steps forward, and Keith doesn’t move away.

“Why?” The word breaks around the sound of a half formed sob as the black curtain of his hair hangs in his face, covering his eyes.

Why now? Why me? Why?

Shiro hears every question trapped in the hitching breath as he takes another careful step forward.

“There was supposed to be time, and we—” he breathes, stalling at the word, because it never was we, was it?

“I never got it right.”

Liquid lines Keith’s eyes as he looks up, the watery look making him look younger. Untouched by the burdens of a war that had taken him across universes.

There’s a strange brightness there too. Of fear, or of hope.

Maybe they’re on in the same.

“I could never be right,” Shiro finally admits. And that had always been the problem, hadn’t it? It was never about time, or places, or other versions of himself, but him. He had never let himself be the right that Keith needed, because Keith deserved more than he could ever be.

They’d pushed each other to be better and better, until Keith had surpassed him, and Shiro had decided that he deserved the entire universe, and not just a man who had foolishly tried to hold it.

“Be right now.”

It’s a whisper, almost lost to the breadth of the space between them. For a moment, he thinks he imagines it until he sees the flicker of a gaze through Keith’s bangs.

They both move then, meeting with a cataclysmic clash that reverberates through Shiro’s entire being. It shakes him wholly, as he feels something snap within his chest, and then he’s on fire. Burning, his skin is blackening and peeling back from bone, exposing his nerves to the ache of unbridled starlight on his skin.

It tears him down, exposes him, as he feels arms around his neck and the scratch of nails at his nape.

Opening his lips to a heated gasp, they move against each other, lost to the act of discovery as they track searing lines across each others skin. Stumbling blindly together through the living room, they push past the door of Keith’s bedroom.

Shiro hasn’t been in this room in six years, but he can’t help but linger on the fact that he still remembers the exact number of steps.

A moan brushes across his lip as he slides his metallic palm across the small of Keith’s back and drags his other down the back of his thigh. Curling his fingers at the back of his knee, he pulls it up over his hip as he lowers Keith down onto the bed. He does it slowly, carefully, like he’s breakable.

Like he’s precious.

Like everything that he always had been.

Continuing his exploration, Shiro captures snapshots of moments as he lets his hands roam under Keith’s shirt.

Soft skin.

Softer moans.

The fluttering stutter of his breath, half formed around his name.

Pushing the fabric up towards Keith’s chest, he only pulls away long enough to draw it over his head.

“I’m sorry,” he says then.

It’s easier to say into the darkness of the night, but it doesn’t feel like it’s enough.

No, it isn’t enough.

It will never be enough, but it’s all he has to offer as he presses the words like small offerings into Keith’s skin.

He arches blissfully up into his mouth as he traces the expanse of his chest, revering the goosebumps and pink flush that spreads across it in his wake.

“I’m sorry,” Shiro breathes again, fingers brushing across the dark hair below his belly button before they start to make work of his belt. The metal of the buckle clinks loudly in the darkness, joined only by Keith’s escalating breaths as he nips as his hip.

Beautiful, he thinks. Or maybe he says, as Keith let’s out a small whine, his hips rolling upward as he pulls his dark pants away. Brushing his hand carefully against him, Shiro revels in the heavy heat that fills his palm as he licks a stipe along the underside of his length.

“Shiro,” Keith moans when he opens his lips around him, taking him carefully against his tongue. Fingers brush through his bangs as he rolls his tongue. They grip at them when he slowly starts to push closer, taking him further until his nose brushes against the soft skin of his stomach.

I’m sorry, he thinks, as he pushes and pulls, working Keith until he’s writhing with the forceful sounds of his gasping moans and pressing up into the heat of his mouth.

It’s a flurry of movement, burning heat, and the sharp tug at his scalp before Keith comes across the flat of his tongue with the softest of sounds.

Just a breath, like he’s finally letting go.

“Shiro,” he hushes, pulling him with the grip of his hair to crash their mouths together. Licking his own taste from his mouth, Keith moans his name like a quiet prayer, filling each syllable of it with new emotion.

Anger. Hate. Pain. Fear. Joy. Love.

“It’s okay,” Shiro breathes, moving his lips against Keith’s as he speaks. Running his knuckles up over the hardened muscle of his arms, Shiro tracks the path up over his shoulder until he can open his palm against his neck.

Pressed against it, he can feel the quick beat of his heart as he pulls him close, settling his back against the plain headboard of the Garrison issued bed and Keith against his chest. The darkness of the room crushed down upon them, weighted heavy and comfortable as he loses track of time to the slowing cadence of Keith’s breaths.

“I love you,” Shiro whispers after a stolen eternity. “I don’t deserve to, but I do.”

Keith’s hand stretches wide across his chest, pressed just above his heart as he starts to brush the pad of his thumb back and forth against the steady rhythm that it beats.

“Takashi,” Keith says low, brushing his name across his skin. He chases it with the soft press of his lips.

“I love you,” he echoes, voice dripping with the same sincerity that he’s treasured for so long.

It drifts through them, ebbing them slowly into a soft shadow of sleep, and Shiro thinks that maybe this is it. A love to fight for. A love to lose for. A love to cross universes, and lose universes for.

A love to force the fickle hand of time for.

The thought enraptures him as he turns it over and over, smoothing it like a stone until he’s lulled into the basking warmth of sleep.

This is it, he dreams, for hours, or maybe for minutes, until it’s shaken away by the bed shifting beneath Keith’s weight as he rolls away from him.

He does it quietly, stealthily, as if he hadn’t planned on waking Shiro at all.

There’s time, he thinks hazily as he reaches forward, capturing the fine bones of Keith’s wrist in his hand. There’s time now.

“Stay,” Shiro says.

No, he pleads.

“Stay.”

The night is quiet, but alive, writhing like a live wire with the force of his request. It clears the fog of sleep from his mind as he looks up into Keith’s eyes, lit by the sinking moon.

Stay. He should have said it then.

So Shiro says it now.

He knows it isn’t enough, but it’s an infinitesimal start to an eternity he’s all too willing to spend making it enough.

“Please,” he breathes when he feels the sudden tension of Keith’s hesitation. It starts as a moment, that stretches into a breath, and finally into a contained lifetime before he feels Keith turn back toward him.

“Okay,” he says into the night, dropping back into the mattress and leaning back into the burning, aching space of Shiro’s chest.

“Okay,” Shiro hums, as he holds him close once more.

***********

#sheith #takashi shirogane #keith kogane #voltron #one might call this a fix it fic but im not too fond of that term #but for lack of a better way to call it #that's what this is #fun fact: the song that inspired this fic is NOT the same as where the title comes from XD

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