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fanfictrashdump · 4 years

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Queening a Pawn, 14

Summary: During the Time Heist, Loki stole the Tesseract and escaped. He did not expect, however, to be pulled through a Time Loop that delivered him to a Midgard more than a decade older, wiser, and bitterer. Having just lived through his unsuccessful attack in New York, Loki must learn to live in Midgard after the defeat of Thanos (post-Endgame). The question is, who is Loki without a quest for a throne or total domination?

Pairings: Loki x OC

Notes: I can’t sleeeeeeeep. :/

Delilah sat on the floor of her apartment, art notebook in one hand and colored pencils in another. She was carefully positioned between Loki's long legs, the man in question having sat himself down while she quietly worked and perched his chin onto her shoulder. Loki had wandered over to her flat a little after noon, a pair of clippers in hand, hoping to get Lilah to shorn off his growing locks. He had found her so intensely focused on her task, an impressive portrait of Brunnhilde wielding Dragonfang, that he had made no noise, and instead joined her on the floor to observe.

Every now and again, Lilah would reach behind her and caress Loki's cheek while she thought about what lines to work on next. In return, he would place a lingering kiss on hers and simply basked in the warmth of her being. It was a quiet existence, but comfortable. Then again, neither of them did terribly well with talking, but no one could deny the fact that their interactions clicked together perfectly– or at least they would if anyone were to see them.

"More shade?" She asked, softly, her voice gravelly from disuse.

Loki ghosted his fingers over the paper to the lower left corner. "Around this part of the cape, perhaps."

Lilah hummed her agreement and switched to a 6B pencil to darken her shadows. He pressed another kiss to her temple for good measure, only half paying attention to a book he held open in his left hand with the intention to while away the time. A knock broke them both out of their reverie with an unwelcome start.

"Are you expecting anyone?"

"No, I'm not," she replied, frowning.

"I'll get rid of them for you." Without waiting for a response (not that one was coming), he leapt to his feet, and crossing to the door. He opened it wide without checking the peephole a minute later.

A woman, short, mid fifties stared at Loki with the same emerald green shade he loved so much in Delilah. Kin?

There was a long stretch of silence between them, before the woman found her voice and sneered at the Aesir. "You." With a barely hidden growl, she swung with her handbag at Loki, forcing him to hop backwards with a yelp.

Definitely kin.

"Pardon me, madam, but what are you doing?" Loki demanded between blows of the overstuffed bag.

The protest was enough to get Delilah to look up, causing her to double-take at the sight before her. "Mom? What the hell?" Lilah's mother started yelling at her daughter in what seemed to be very fast-paced Spanish while still taking swings at the dark-haired demigod.

"What is he doing here!?" Her mother demanded, screaming.

"He's my friend!" Lilah grabbed her mother's arms and backed her up. "Stop. Stop!"

"I'm very confused. Not surprised, but very confused," Loki announced over the din of yelling, slowly, letting his hands lower from their defensive stance.

"Just when you had done us all the favor of dying you–"

"Mom, stop!" She jumped into an argument, matching her mother's volume and fierceness with little effort. "Lo, could you give us a minute?"

"I won't leave you alone, if that's what you're suggesting," he ground out. His sea glass eyes were set unwaveringly on the older woman and at the flushed cheeks of her anger. Despite the voice in his head bellowing that this was the perfect moment to make a disappearing act, he was reticent to leave Delilah's side. His body was flighty, adept at misdirection and survival, but his mind was torn. Mostly because he was curious about why the woman was so cross at him to begin with. Other than him being, you know, himself.

"Why?" The woman seethed. Apparently he had been musing aloud and while Delilah groaned and hung her head in a sentiment close to exasperation, her mother looked even angrier, if possible. "You lead a whole army of aliens into the city, kill hundreds, ruin the lives of millions… and you ask why?"

Loki felt foolish for the rogue thought even popping into his head, but he stuttered it out, regardless. "I just… I wanted to know whether you hated me on p-principle or…," he struggled for a better phrase, "something more specific?" Delilah had raised her head to stare at him with a hint of a smirk on her face– even at his most awkward, Loki never stuttered. "Usually it's more specific. I don't tend to agree with the public and I cause a general sense of discomfort around most, but more often than not people can mention an isolated incident they take issue with." Her grin grew–he definitely never rambled. "I can't remember most that have been brought to my attention the last two months, but–"

"Shut up!" Loki snapped his mouth shut, taking a half-step backwards at the harshness of the mother's tone. "Your father must be turning in his grave watching you interacting with this scum." Loki's eyes cut quickly to Delilah, silently asking the dreaded question while managing to not say a word. She shook her head in the negative in response and he breathed a little sigh of relief.

"Dad understood what happened."

"Your father lost everything because of him– his job, our savings, his sleep, his will to live... Do I need to remind you how we lived after the attack?"

Lilah hesitated, switching her gaze between Loki and her mother before responding. "Now's not the time, Mom." Her mother ignored her.

"My husband was an engineer. He had a good job in the city until you destroyed the office building and killed the man who owned the company. Everyone was hurting, reconstructing. We tried our best to get our lives back together, but no company was hiring, our home was destroyed, and our savings were dwindling." She had turned to face Loki in all her rage, and he stood motionless, with his arms hanging limply at his sides. "Delilah had been accepted to Yale and we couldn't even afford to send her to SUNY. Hell, we could afford a ratty one bedroom apartment or proper meals or decent clothes. She worked two jobs to help out. Gave up on her dream school, on her whole damn future, because you wanted to play King of the World for a d–"

"OK. That's enough," Delilah grumbled, skimming past Loki to drag her mother out of the apartment.

They were gone for a long time. Loki set to pacing the living room in a tight circuit. When that became tedious, he turned to the abandoned sketchbook. Within its pages he saw portraits of nearly everyone in the Compound. The Avengers in their heyday, in various states of being. A good amount of them were done while the subjects were focused on something else, entirely. He came across a picture of himself, legs kicked up on the table as he balanced on the back legs of his chair and read. He was older, his hair longer, wilder, and his cheekbones stood out in sharp relief.

A few dozen pages later, there was another of him in a similar position, but this time he was smirking as he looked over the cover at her with a predatory stare. He could only guess at the thoughts in that being's head. Though, considering they involved Delilah they were anything but pure. Another sketch, still, had him hunched over his daggers with a whetstone. His hair was shorn short and though he looked to be carefully sharpening his blades, he wore a secretive smile, knowing full well he was being observed and basking in the attention. Whether she had chosen to be more forgiving with the shading in the last one or he had simply learned how to relax his expression was still up for debate.

The front door clicked open, pulling Loki's attention.

Delilah looked more tired than anything else. He didn't say a word when she quietly padded across the floor, and fell into the seat beside him, gaze distant and unfocused. He hesitated reaching out for her, settling for brushing the side of his hand against her own. With a half groan, her shoulders slumped and she teetered sideways until her whole side rested against his. His lips grazed her crown seemingly out of habit.

There was a long stretch of silence before Delilah quipped. "Oh, I never introduced you two. That's rude of me."

"Your mother certainly needs no introduction, pet." Something inside him fluttered at the tiny smile he received in exchange for the term of endearment. "And I suspect you should have waited until after she had gotten over the murderous rage."

"If it hasn't faded in nearly twelve years, I don't think it ever will," she replied maneuvering his arm around her shoulders and settling against his chest. For a long moment she watched the conflict boiling just under the surface, watching the cogs in his head move and click in kind. She groaned. "Please don't."

"Lilah..." His voice carried the urgency of his unsaid request.

"I was having such a great day. Can't we just go back to it?"

Loki dragged his fingers through her gentle waves, skimming her scalp so soothingly she practically purred. "You know I will just ask FRIDAY, later." He tilted her chin so their eyes could meet. "How much worse can it get?"

"It just…ripples, you know... it wasn't just death you brought to the city. Tony helped rebuild most of New York, honestly, but there was hundreds of industries destroyed and people lost their factories, their start-ups, their jobs, their livelihoods– again, Tony employed as many people as he physically could. It was just too much for just him to deal with."

"How does that get to you?"

Delilah sighed. "Dad was a civil engineer. The firm he worked for got destroyed. It was a family company and the owner died in the attack. He couldn't find a new job for the longest time." Though she had fully intended to stop there, Loki stared at her expectantly until she crumbled. "I was seventeen years old and was set to go to Yale university in the Fall. It's a very good private school; expensive, but I had gotten a partial scholarship and my parents agreed to pay for the rest."

"Education isn't free here?"

Lilah laughed, a little drily. "No, but that is a debate for another day."

"This is what passes for civilized society on this planet?"

"You tried to invade us with war-mongering cyberaliens," she retorted, deadpan.

Loki hesitated in speaking before he acquiesced. "Fair point well made."

"Anyway, with no money coming in, the plan wasn't feasible, anymore. I looked for work, which is how I ended up at STARK industries. I was decent at coding and was easily trainable, but mostly I would stubbornly work at problems until I solved them and, let's face it, Tony loves the obsessive types. So after a year Tony decided he would pay for me to go to college. As long as I kept my grades up and didn't fall grossly behind on work, he would pay for everything. I finished my bachelor's early and did a PhD shortly after." She sighed when she caught sight of Loki's worriedly furrowed brow. "It was rough while we were still getting it together. Before I got to Tony, I waited tables and scrubbed floors for a couple of months. We barely scraped by that time."

"And you still speak to me?"

"The way I figure, if Odin had managed to hug you once in your goddamn life, you would've turned out to be his most valuable asset. Thor agrees. You can't really judge a person on what they do in a moment of desperation. I'm not saying anything you did was right –you fucking psycho– but that's not everything you are." Loki was staring at the floor as he worked his jaw, offering no additional response. "I thought, at least, I would get a chuckle out of calling you a fucking psycho."

He cut his eyes at her. "Do truths warrant a laugh?"

"Are you still the same foolish boy who just wants to impress his father?"

"I was only Odin's pawn," he replied, a little offended.

Lilah laughed. "Yeah, pawns don't get royal titles and cushy rooms in the palace, you dork." She nudged his side when he didn't make any noise or expression.

"I apologize," he mumbled a great deal later.

Delilah looked up from the sketchbook with a frown. "For what?"

"The attack. For allowing my stupid feelings of inadequacy–"

Her hand came over his mouth, smearing soot from her pencils onto his pale skin. "OK, we're gonna have to do something about the self-deprecation."

His own hand reached up to remove the muzzle. "Are we done covering me in graphite?"

"In which case?" She asked, looking between him and the sketch of himself frowning at the floor. The shadows had returned in full force, but it was different than in previous drawings. His whole demeanor looked worried and tightly wound rather than angry and plotting.

"Stop making my feelings valid!"

Delilah's eyes nearly bugged out, her whole body leaning backwards away from his booming voice. "Oh, wow. That's… so much more than I am trained to deal with…" She collected her thoughts for a few minutes before offering a response. "Lo, every decision you and I have made have landed us here. Do you not like being here?"

His hardened face turned vulnerably soft. "You know I do."

"I like being here, too. I would've never worked for Tony under any other circumstance and I'm good at what I do. I wouldn't be here if your feelings weren't every little bit as valid as mine, or my mother's. Feelings don't lose validity because they're complicated or messy."

"But the circumstances–"

"Are irrelevant." Delilah had gone back to drawing, her mouth set in a tight line.

Loki pouted. "Are you cross?" His hand rested on her shoulder. "Delilah."

"Does it matter if I am or not?" She did a double take when the sofa shifted beside her. "Where are you going?"

"To… anywhere else," he replied awkwardly, gesturing the door a little unsure.

Lilah narrowed her eyes, trying to make sense of what had just happened. "You really need to see a therapist, bud."

He hesitated again, looking at the door, then back at her. "So, I should…?"

She tossed the notebook beside her feet where it landed with a thud before patting the cushion beside her. He reluctantly took his seat, watching as she shifted to fit into his side. Her hand still held his after she slung his arm over her shoulders, absently trailing her fingertips over the small scars and freckles on his hand. The thought of her struggling made his heart constrict in the most painful of ways, at some point his eyes no longer could contain his tears. The second Delilah turned his palm to press a kiss into it was the moment he well and truly fell apart.

#Loki #Loki MCU #Marvel #MCU #MCU fanfic #MCU fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #Loki x oc #Loki x ofc #alternate timeline #time heist #my writing

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hidding-in-shadows · 5 years

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Resbang 2019: hot for the teacher (chapter one)

Here is my piece for Resbang 2019! Chapters are going up every hour to finish it off and little a little room for antici------pation! When my lovely artist, ringochan, posts their art I will add the link for viewers! In the mean time, here you go!

Summary: Maka had always wanted to become someone who left their mark on the world; an inventor, a political leader, an author. She never thought her legacy would be educating eight-year-olds on how to read, multiply, and conduct experiments. Now, in her first year of teaching, Maka is realizing that being the top student in college is different from being an effective teacher in the classroom. And, it doesn’t help that her newly appointed co-teacher is annoyingly better than her. (And attractive.) As Maka struggles to push herself through the year and get through her perfectionism, her and her co-teacher, Soul, form a teaching bond that impresses even the snooty district personal. And themselves. Teacher/Elementary School AU. Warnings: sexual content, drinking, swearing, mental health, family/childhood trauma

Rated M Pairings: SoMa, SidxNyga, BlackStarxTsubaki

ffn link ao3 link

Chapter One below the cut!

She is up before the alarm goes off and she wonders if this is what first day jitters feels like even though it's not her first day. The kids don’t come for another week. It’s a mantra in her head, but her heart still flutters as she glances towards the outfit she had hanging on the closet door. Its a basic skirt and button down combo, but she’s beginning to doubt her choice.

The beeping of the coffee machine pulls her away from the doubt and she shuffles out of the room. One cup of coffee later and she is deciding what cereal to eat. Chocolate bunnies or cinnamon bunnies? As she’s balancing the boxes in her hands, the familiar ringtone of my milkshake brings all the boys to the yard, and they’re like, it’s better than --

"I thought you slept in until the last minute,” Maka decides on the chocolate shaped bunnies as she answers. A laugh crackles over the phone and she winced. Just because her mind decided to wake up at five in the morning didn’t mean she wasn’t affected by the sharpness of Blake’s … everything. “Seriously, Blake, what’s up?”

“Don’t sound so excited to talk to your best friend, Maka,” the familiar voice fills her ear as she presses the phone between shoulder and cheek, “I wanted to check on you. First day jitters?”

“Can that even happen if it isn’t my official first day?”

“Kids come next week, Maks, and this week is going to be filled with silly meetings and trainings. Don’t be so nervous.”

“Well you’re a natural,” Maka hunts for a spoon in the clean side of her sink, “and you’ve been there for three years.”

“Everyone starts somewhere,” something in the background muffles Blake’s voice, “and three years isn’t a lot of time.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Maka begins to move the cereal around in her bowl, making sure every chocolate bunny is covered in milk before taking a bite. “We have to be there at seven-thirty, right?”

“Yes ma’am,” she rolls her eyes at his tone, “anyways, I just wanted to check up on you. I know how nerves can be and I need to make sure my college buddy is ready for the big world.”

“I think I was ready before I even went to college, Blake. Remember, it was you who thought I was in my final internship.”

“Eh, the past is the past. I’m gonna go.” The call ends abruptly and Maka puckers her lips as she looks at the End Call screen. He was never good at goodbyes.

She sighs as she looks at the chocolate bunnies floating in her milk. She stirs them around a bit and suddenly is being pulled back into her thoughts.

She graduated, moved across the county, and got a job, all in the year. She thinks back to her first day of college, walking into her Introduction to Education class and snickering when Blake Star, a crazed looking frat boy, waved her down because he wanted to complement her trench coat. He had asked if she was the other speaker coming in for the freshman.

He then continued to talk and talk about how his junior year was going and his professors. He even asked her questions before answering them himself. After a full five minutes of him holding a conversation with just himself, she slumped down next to him in the chair and nodded along. The look in his eyes when she stood up and introduced herself as a student in the class was priceless.

Something wraps a warm tail around her leg, breaking Maka from her train of thought. She looks down to see her cat, lithe and black, curling around her leg. Her yellow eyes pierce up towards Maka. Maka leans down to give her a scratch under her chin.

“Lilith,” Maka sighs as she discards the rest of her cereal onto the growing pile of dishes in her sink, “I hope everything goes okay today. I mean, I’m sure there will be some boring meetings and a lot of paperwork but ... ,” Maka stops and laughs to herself a little bit, “I am venting to my cat. And now I am talking to myself. Teacher brain has already begun.”

The cafeteria has tables folded and pushed to the side and there are rows of chairs for the morning meeting. She is the first one in the room, and there’s a distinct smell of cream cheese and coffee in the air from the complimentary snack table in the corner. Maka shifts the bag on her shoulder and debates if she should move toward the front or fall into the back.

Before she can make a decision, the doors to the cafeteria swing open and Blake comes in with a bellowing laugh and two others behind him. His hair is dyed a neon blue, matching one of the school colors, and his green eyes twinkle. He sports an old school shirt for DWMA, gym shorts, and beat up Nikes, but Maka didn’t expect anything else from the P.E. teacher.

“Maks!” He hollars her name even though she is only a few feet away from him, “always the early bird.”

“Good morning to you too, Blake,” she smiles and her grip on her bag strap lessens. She moves toward the small group. Blake’s smile grows some more and then he blinks as if realizing something before twisting to the two people behind him.

“Barret, Nyga, this is Maka Albarn, the new third grade teacher! She’s my friend I told you guys about.”

Behind Blake are two other people, one man who stands a good head and a half taller than Blake and a woman who is about Blake’s height. They man’s dreadlocks fall just past his ears and his eyes are dark and warm as he gives Maka a smile. His hand is rough in her own when he shakes it. He wears similar attire to Blake, and Maka guesses he is the other P.E. teacher.

“Sid Barret, but everyone really goes by last names here,” his voice is deep and friendly, “and this is Mira Nyga-Barret, my wife. I work with Star here as a P.E. coach and Nyga here is our lovely math coach for the school.”

“So you’ll be seeing me a lot,” Nyga speaks and her voice is strong, as strong as her deep blue eyes, “I’ve heard good things about you from Star and Dr. Mortimor. I look forward to working with you this year.”

“Likewise,” Maka smiles and shakes Nyga’s hand as well, “I’m excited to start my career here. It feels unreal getting my first year position at DWMA.”

“Well, there’s a reason we have Academy in the name,” Barret begins to move towards the chair,s “you’ll start to notice, though, that as bright as our kids are, there are some troubles because of home situations. It wasn’t a mistake when Dr. Mortimor placed the Academy here.”

“It’s important that all kids have access to arts and science,” Maka says as she settles down in one of the chairs. They were in the middle of the rows, a comfortable distance from the front.

“We pride ourselves in it,” Nygas adjusts herself, smoothing her hands over the long, dark blue skirt she wears,“especially the arts. Every year our art teacher has created a statue with the graduating fifth grade class. They’re placed all around the school. Maybe Blake can give you an official tour so you can see everything.”

“She’ll want to see her classroom first,” Blake leans back on two legs of the chair, hands clasped behind his head, “besides, I think Dr. Mortimor or Ms. Leon will do the tour. They kinda run this place.”

The doors open again and more voices fill the cafeteria. Barret excuses himself to go talk to the group that just walked in as Nyga and Blake begin to get into a conversation about scheduling. Maka sits with her bag between her feet and begins to fiddle with a loose string at the hem of her sweater. Slowly, as the cafeteria becomes filled with staff members, Maka’s nerves begin to increase. There’s easily fifty people in the cafeteria now, mingling and roaming around. Some talk and laugh while others are scroll on their phones. Maka feels welcomed and shut out all at the same time -- no one has eyed her up and down, but also no one has come over to welcome her to the school. She tries to slow down the blooming feeling of anxiety in her chest.

“Welcome, welcome,” a high voice purrs over the intercom system in the cafeteria and everyone begins to lower their voices, “welcome back teachers and staff members! We have a meeting at seven thirty in the cafeteria with bagels and coffee, complimentary from the PTA. Make sure to grab a snack, find a seat, and get ready for some icebreakers to start us off right for this new year!”

“You must be the new third grade teacher,” the voice came from beside her and Maka jumps slightly as she turns to see a woman older than her standing there. Her blonde hair is cut short and choppy, and it holds a slight curl. She wears a black turtleneck and dark business pants, and Maka can tell from the look in her hazel eyes that this woman is judging her.

“Yeah, I’m Maka Albarn,” she plasters her best real-looking-fake-smile on as she holds her hand out, “excited to be joining the team!”

The woman looks at Maka’s hand for a moment before reaching out and shaking it. Her long black nails tap against Maka’s skin. “Medusa Gorgon. I’m the other third grade teacher. I’m right next door to you.”

“So will you be my mentor?” Maka asks, letting her hand fall into her lap while Medusa raises a perfectly plucked eyebrow into a deep arch. “I mean, when I went to my new teacher orientation they told me --,”

“Wait, you’re a first year teacher?” Medusa points a finger towards Maka as if accusing her of something. Maka’s eyes go crossed for a moment as they track the nail. She looks back to Medusa. She simply nods with her tight smile and Medusa purses her lips before returning an equally tight smile. “Well, it looks like we’ll be working pretty closely. I’m going to have to guide you towards not screwing the kids up too bad this year.”

“Excuse me?”

“Maks!” Blake’s voice cuts through the tension that is beginning to build between the two teachers and they both look to see the man standing a few chairs away, hands on hips and stupid grin plastered to his face. “Come get some snacks. I can introduce you to some of the others!”

“Well, that’s my cue,” Maka stands and hoists her bag onto her shoulder. She gives Medusa another smile, “I look forward to working with you this year.”

“Likewise,” Medusa’s eyes trail over Maka one last time before she turns on a heel and goes towards the front of the cafeteria. There is a tight, eerie feeling in Maka’s belly, but she pushes it down and turns to join Blake at the bagel table.

“The Thompson Sisters,” Blake makes a wide arm gesture towards two women who look like they should be models instead of working in a school.

The tall one has her hair down, long and straight, glossy in the fluorescent light. Her features are slightly accentuated with makeup and she smiles with her pink tinted lips. The outfit she wears looks like it has been pulled straight out of a teacher Instagram account; light washed high waisted jeans, a pale green button down blouse, and a slightly over large tan-and-brown plaid blazer. She’s tall and slim, but the heeled boots she wears make her even taller, closer to Barret’s height.

The girl next to her is the total opposite, though equally stunning. Her face is round and her cheeks are dusted pink. Baby blue eyes sparkle under thick lashes and she has a bubbly smile as she reaches out for a hug. Her dress sways around her calves as she moves in and squeals as she squeezes Maka against her chest.

“Maka Albarn! Our new third grade teacher! I am so excited to work with you!” The bubbly woman’s voice matches her personality perfectly.

"Star's told us a lot about you," the tall one smiles and it's blindingly beautiful. "I'm Elizabeth, but you can call me Liz. Patti is the one who goes by Ms. Thompson."

"Thanks for the warm welcome," Maka pulls back and blushes under their gaze, "and I hope it's all good things he’s told you."

"Well graduating top of your class with recommendations from almost all your professors is quite a sign," Liz waves her hand in the air, her pale pink nails manicured to perfection, "I may have peeked into your files online. I'm the family services and volunteer coordinator by the way. So you'll see me running around here."

"And I'm the school counselor," the other one, Patti Thompson, said. "I'll be coming in to talk to your kiddos during the school year. You'll hear from me a lot."

"Let's not overwhelm her just yet, girls," Blake clasps a hand on Maka’s shoulder and flashes his usual big, dumb grin, "the Doc should be in soon to start this thing off. Let's go back to our seats, Maks."

Maka settles back down with Blake next to her and Barret on the other side. It felt odd being between the two P.E. coaches, but something inside of Maka tells her she should stay as separated from Medusa as she can before the school year starts. The chattering in the cafeteria had begun to settle down and soon everyone was facing the stage, waiting for Dr. Mortimor to come out. The clock ticks and ticks, people whisper, and then finally the man steps out on stage.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” his voice is high and holds a playful tone. Dr. Mortimor is a tall man, towering on the stage, and he wears a crisp black suit with a pale blue shirt underneath it. His black hair is gelled back, hazel eyes sparkling behind a pair for wide, black rimmed glasses. His mustache is twisted at the ends, and Maka imagines his smile hidden behind it as if he were a cartoon character.

“Welcome back,” Dr. Mortimor continues with arms outstretched, “as you may have noticed, there are a few new faces around here! I want us to go around and introduce ourselves quickly, then we’ll get into our real icebreaker activity!”

Her heart pounds at the mention of an icebreaker activity, but Maka knew this would happen. She’s a teacher for goodness sakes, she designs icebreaker activities for a living. But, even as people introduce themselves and their jobs, along with something they did over the summer, Maka feels her heart sped up as her time comes closer and closer. The sentences she is going say repeat in her mind as everyone goes, and soon it’s Nyga’s turn, then Barrets, then hers.

“Good morning,” she smiles and silently curses at herself at the way her voice hitches, “I’m Maka Albarn. I’m the new third grade teacher. Something fun I did over the summer was get an apartment.”

“Where is it,” someone calls out.

“Grigori Gardens,” Maka wrings her hands in front of her, “and this is my first year teaching.”

Some people let out a congratulations and others give a simple clap. Maka pushes her flush down and nods at everyone before taking her seat. Blake springs up next to her and starts going off as Maka tries to breath and calm down her nerves. She was used to speaking in front of a group of five year olds, last year she spent the whole school year in a kindergarten class for her final internship. Standing in front of a bunch of adults was a totally different story.

Once everyone had introduced themselves, they turned their chairs toward a large projector screen that was lowered above the stage..

“Time to do our quick icebreaker! Mrs. Leon will be passing around a slip of paper to everyone. I want you to do Two Truths and a Lie. Then we will go around and share with small groups with Life Boats! Directions are on the powerpoint let’s go-go-go!”

The man’s peppy personality did not match that of his outward appearance, and Maka noted that she might need to be extra-extroverted with the man. She receives her slip from Mrs. Leon, the assistant principal who had a dazzling smile and a perfectly tailored power suit. The activity is pretty simple and fun, she gets into three different groups and everyone laughs and guesses at what the truths are and what the lies are. She gets to meet a few other teachers; two fifth grade teachers, a resource teacher, and the art teacher that was mentioned before. Once the activity is over, a few details regarding the weeks schedule are given, then the teachers are dismissed to their rooms.

“I can show you your classroom,” Blake slaps his knees and jumps out of his seat, “and help you move stuff. We don’t have too much to do right now, plus, Barrett said he would be the ball-checker today and I just needed to clean up the office.”

“Thanks, Star,” Maka sighs as she stands, adjusting her bag on her shoulder, “I have a lot though, are you sure you’ve got time?”

“For you Maks, anything.”

“You really do have a lot of shit,” Blake huffs, a sweat breaking out across his forehead as he places the last box down. Maka nods and takes in the room. It is large and carpeted. When she walked in, she literally gasped. Looking into the class, there is a smartboard mounted to the left wall, then three, tall ceiling windows on the opposite wall to the door. Another door is diagonally across the room, an emergency escape. Then, the wall where the main entrance was was covered with a large whiteboard and two corkboards flanking it. There weren’t many corkboard spaces, and Maka knew she would have to figure out how to decorate them later, but everything is lovely.

There is even a large wall of cabinetry against the wall across from the smartboard and an island where a few laptops and tablets are piled up. Desks are scattered around the room, and various group tables. Three large bookshelves are in a corner and she already knows she is going to move them. Her boxes sat stacked near the entrance, piled high, along with furniture she had brought.

“Well, I’m gonna head off now,” Blake wipes his forehead with the back of his hand, “let me know if you need anything, okay Maks?”

“You got it,” she smiles, “thanks again.”

He leaves and Maka ties her hair up tighter and gets to work. It’s hours of moving desks, humming to herself, and dusting things off. She hunts through all the cabinets, making piles of math, science, and reading resources and another pile of garbage. The desks are arranged into the center of the room and the book shelves are standing side-by-side against one of the tall windows when it’s all done. There’s decorations laying around, random piles that no one could deceiver, except for her. She is laying on the group carpet, sweaty and exhausted by the time five o’clock hits. And there’s still so much more to do.

“Wow, you didn’t get much done did you?” a voice calls and Maka jumps, sitting straight up. She turns toward where the voice came from, a door that connects her classroom to the one next door, and sees Medusa Gorgon leaning on the door frame.

“Yeah, I mean, I went through all the cabinets and piled some stuff up so I knew what to do with it tomorrow,” Maka stands up and brushes at her skirt, “what about you?”

“Oh, I’m all set,” Medusa looks at her nails, “student’s desks are arranged, set up the library, even got to laminate a handful of questions stems for my small groups.”

“Sound productive,” Maka leans back on her heels, “well, I think I am going to head out now, it’s getting late and I live pretty far still.”

“You’re going to leave it like this?” she raises a perfectly plucked eyebrow at the state of the room. “Well, I guess so, if you’re planning on coming early tomorrow.”

“I-I wasn’t,” Maka feels herself flush with frustration and embarrassment, “but I’m confident that everything will get done.”

“Cute,” Medusa’s tone is flat and she pushes off of the doorframe, “well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Have a good night,” the door slams as Maka says her goodbye and she feels herself scowl. Who knows how this will work out.

She takes one last look at her room, heart fluttering with excitement and nervousness. Her teammate may have some discouraging words, but Maka knew how she felt. Confident, sure, and down right ready for her own students.

#resbang2019 #legacy #soma #soul eater #teacher au #some of this is based off real life haha #hot for the teacher

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name-me-regret · 4 years

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Till I Touch The Sky - 1/9

Till I Touch The Sky Chapter One: A Bit Of Fairy Dust

Summary: Peter is having weird dreams, and on top of that, May has a new boyfriend that Peter just does not like, and then adding on his ever increasing health problems... Well, Peter’s life seems pretty shitty right now.

Then he meets Tony Stark and he gets offered an internship, and things start looking better. However, he soon realizes that his dreams are more real than he could have imagined.

Chapter Summary: Peter starts having some weird dreams after a fall...

Read on AO3.

FANFICTION MASTER POST

Author’s Note: I wasn’t planning on posting this until it was finished, (because it’s taken over my life and I can’t work on anything till I finish this) but wanted to post it for Tom Holland’s birthday. Also, it’s the start of Pride Month! I want to work on finally finishing Saving Grace and get started on the sequel of Martin Child.

Here’s some art of Harley and Peter meeting in my He Makes Him Happy fanfiction, so check that out. I’m thinking of six chapters for this, and I hope I can stick to that this time. Hope y’all like this story. Leave me a comment and let me know.

- ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

”Free spirits, free spirits Can you hear me calling? Oh, it's all or nothing When you're free spirits, free spirits Can you hear it calling? 'Cause I don't wanna live no normal life, let go

Is this Heaven or Armageddon? Are we gettin' high, we could've watched the ending We were trodding down our memories A cemetery full of bottles that are incomplete When you're loving more, caring less It's the highs and lows with no clears And we wanted it all then But we're never runnin' out, we'll be

Free spirits, free spirits...“

~Free Spirit - Khalid

- ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

April 02, 2015 Peter and May Parker were a small family unit, just two of them. It had been them against the world ever since Ben had died. However, he knew that May struggled to make ends meet, Peter wasn't stupid. In fact, Peter Parker was quite the genius. Although, that could be debated since he didn't see this coming, not even a little bit. May Parker started dating. He supposed he couldn't blame her, because everyone needed a companion and she was perhaps lonely. Also, ever since Ben had died, the burden of the bills and mortgage on the house had fallen on her. She’d been unable to make the payments, which is why they was now living at this apartment, since they’d lost Ben’s parents house.

So, he could understand that she needed help, and the worst part was that Christopher seemed like a real upstanding guy. He had a doctorate and after working for a big corporation was starting up his own medical tech company. He also knew how to cook and was able to get Peter's breathing machine for a cheaper price they could afford. Peter hated having asthma the most, especially since it was hard on him when the elevator broke in their building and he was forced to walk up the stairs. That's what he was doing now, climbing up the stairs as he huffed and puffed, and by the time he made it to their floor, he'd ran out of breath. The teenager leaned against the wall by the door for a few moments, feeling his face heat up as the twin brother and sister from down the hall passed by and eyed him with disgust. Peter knew he was grossly out of shape when a few flights of steps had him winded, but when his lungs were weak, he couldn't really exercise. Peter straightened when the two had passed him, having dropped his head as soon as Riley and Hailey (the twins) had spotted him, having felt his face heat up in embarrassment when they’d seen him struggling to breathe. He'd already recovered after a few moments, but had waited until they had entered the stairwell. Now, he shifted his backpack back onto his shoulders, taking out his house keys and entering his apartment. When he got there, he saw that the usual clutter around the house had been cleaned up, his few LEGO sculptures they’d been able to afford (cheap ones with less than a hundred pieces) had been moved to a small work table in the corner, out of the way.

He tried not to let it bug him, since it had been on the floor before and anyone could step on a loose piece of his latest project. It was not fun to step on a LEGO, and Peter should know from personal experience. So, he supposed it was a good thing that Christopher had moved his structures onto a small table and off the floor.

The teenager huffed as he kicked his tennis shoes off at the door, not in the best of moods due to the elevator being out, and then the twins (who were both so pretty) giving him those looks. He hated his asthma, so much and wished to just be rid of it, or his stupid weak lungs, and his stupid allergies. Peter Parker just wanted to leave his whole stupid, weak body behind.

Peter fumbled for his inhaler as he started to get worked up, taking an inhale and feeling as his airways opened up. He waited a moment before he straightened and tossed his bag against the work table, cursing when one of the structures was knocked on its side. The teen moved over to fix it, hoping none of the pieces had been knocked off. It was the car he’d built from the Bricks On A Roll bucket, which had many wheels and the ability to make different structures. He’d done the red car on the front, a motorcycle, and the ice cream cart as well. He wasn’t sure if his was missing pieces, but it didn’t have the big ice cream cone piece as shown on the pack. Well, judging by how shitty his luck was, it was likely that his was the only one without it.

As he moved away, he failed to realize one of the wheels was missing from the red car, and hissed as he stepped on it. He stumbled back, tripped on his backpack and fell, hitting his head on the work table.

‘Whoa!’ Peter exclaimed as he moved his hands over himself, trying to see if he’d broken something. His head felt fine, in fact, he felt great! The constant pressure he always felt on his airway wasn’t present, and wondered if the fall had somehow miraculously cured him. Maybe, it was possible.

He turned around and froze. Peter should’ve known that his shitty Parker Luck would kick in. Because miracles didn’t happen to Peter Parker.

There in front of him, was his body on the floor with blood on his forehead where it’d struck the work table. He was looking at his body from the outside, so... did this meant he was dead?

‘Aww, come on!’ Peter cried out.

- ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

Peter hummed as he tried to figure this out, because as far as he could tell, he wasn’t dead. It didn’t help that he was currently floating over his body like a damn ghost. However, he could tell that his body was still breathing, if the way his chest was moving up and down was any indication.

So, not dead.

If that was true, then what was happening right now?

His thought process was cut off as he heard the key in the lock, and glanced at it. His eyes widened as he saw his aunt come through the door and glanced back at his body, and knew this was going to be bad. Peter winced as she screamed and rushed to his side.

“Peter?! Oh baby, wake up!” May sobbed, hands going to his forehead and flinching away from the blood there. She fumbled for her cell phone, her hands shaking so badly that she was barely able to dial 911.

‘May, I’m right here. I’m alright,’ Peter tried to tell her, floating over to her, but when he tried to touch her, his hand passed though her. He gasped and flinched back as if burned, looking at his hand and then at his body as May caressed his face ever so gently. If he could cry, he would, but as he was now, he only felt panic and terror, and a sorrow so profound that he curled up from how intense it felt.

He didn’t understand what was happening to him. Peter just wanted to be wrapped in his aunt’s warm embrace. He wanted all this to be over. Then, without knowing how, he slept and then he felt like he was falling; falling so very fast.

- ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

Peter’s eyes snapped open and he gasped in a breath, hand going to his throat and he couldn’t breathe! He heard a scraping sound and then a hand on his and he flinched away.

“Peter, you’re fine! Look at me, baby. It’s May,” a familiar voice said. His eyes snapped toward her, and immediately slumped down in relief when he realized it was his Aunt May. She pulled his hand gently away from his throat, fingers soothing away the scratch marks he’d made on himself in his frantic struggle.

“Wha-?” Peter tried to speak, felt a catch in his throat and coughed harshly. The mask over his face fogged up, but he had enough experience with his asthma to know he needed it so didn’t remove it. Peter dreaded to think of how many hours she was missing of work, since his Medicaid would pay for his hospital bills. It was just that it didn’t always pay for all his medicines, and May ended up paying some of it out of pocket. “M’sorry,” he whimpered, hating to be such a burden to her.

May smiled wanly, brushing back a few curls from his face. “It’s alright, baby. We’ll make it somehow. Besides, Chris will help us, you’ll see.”

Peter tried not to let his mood sour at the mention of the man, and instead gave a nod, glad the mask covered most of his face. He might not like the man, but he helped the burden on May. Besides, she was happy with him, and that’s all that mattered.

As he settled back on the bed, feeling his eyes grow heavy, a memory of floating over his body came to him.

‘Huh, that was some dream’, Peter thought.

Although, he couldn’t shake the feeling that it had felt so real.

- ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

April 04, 2015

Peter sighed as he came into the apartment, his whole body feeling lethargic and heavy. He wanted to just get in bed and sleep, but he had been sleeping for two days already and he was tired of it. The teenager had thought they could spend some time together; just his aunt and himself.

“Get the door, May,” Christopher called, and the woman pulled open the door as the man entered carrying Peter’s bag and several bags of groceries in the other. They’d stopped to buy them on the way home, where Peter had been forced to stay in the car since he was still on oxygen and it would have been a hassle to carry the small tank inside the supermarket. So, Peter had stayed in the car and tried not to feel too bitter about it.

Now, it seemed like they wouldn’t have some time alone either, seeing as Chris started to help May unpack the groceries. Peter pulled off the mask, sick and tired of having to cart around the small oxygen tank. Besides, he needed to make sure not to use it all up before the end of the month, which still had two weeks left. “I can... help,” Peter said, wanting to feel useful.

“I got it, bud,” Christopher said as he grabbed up the bags Peter tried to get to help with. “Why don’t you go take a shower and I’ll come set up your nighttime treatment.”

Peter grimaced at that, since he didn’t want to have his nighttime treatment when it was barely 7:30 pm. He was not going to bed that early, no matter what anyone said. “It’s early still,” he argued, coughing a moment later.

God, he hated having these weak lungs.

“That decides it,” Chris said, motioning toward the bathroom. Peter might have been acting childish or immature, but he hated that the man acted like he had any right to order him around, like he was his uncle or his dad. He wasn’t.

“Alright, how about we watch a movie?” May said, stepping between the sullen teenager and her boyfriend. “Peter, you go take a shower while I make the popcorn and Chris sets up the movie. It can be a cheesy horror movie, like Sharknado.”

Peter nodded with a grin, his bad mood quickly vanishing. “You know, Sharknado isn’t too bad, as long as you don’t take it too seriously,” he said, rushing off. He wanted to hurry in taking his shower so he could get back and maybe sit next to May on the loveseat, their usual spot when watching movies before.

He considered it a win when he was able to plop onto the loveseat when coming back from his shower. May pulled him closer for a cuddle instead of telling him to let Chris have his seat. The teenager settled to watch the bad movie, sharing a bowl of popcorn with his aunt.

The movie was bad but entertaining, and he snuggled against his aunt as they watched. This was nice.

He didn’t even realize he’d fallen asleep, until he was suddenly looking down at himself. It seemed May hadn’t realized he’d fallen asleep either, until Chris pointed it out.

“Should I put him to bed?” the man asked May. Peter didn’t like the idea of being carried like a child by the man, and hoped May let him stay right there.

“Yes, that’s probably best,” she told him. Peter frowned as he watched the man lift him up like he weighed nothing, and since he couldn’t do sports to gain any muscle, he probably did weigh nothing.

Peter grumbled as he floated out of the man’s way, starting to get the hang of moving around. He wasn’t paying attention and realized too late that he was going to hit the wall, and his arms lifted to protect his head. Peter cried out instinctively, but he didn’t hit it... he went through the wall.

‘Holy shit!’

He flapped his arms around as he was suddenly in the hallway, and then passed through so he was in the apartment next door, where a young couple and their one year old daughter lived. They were gathered around the table, playing some board game as the little girl giggled. “Ally won!” the little girl cried. The man and woman cheered, lifting her up as she squealed happily.

“And now it’s time to get ready for bed,” the woman declared.

Peter moved on when he was able to get the hang of moving through the air, glancing back a moment and thought he saw the little girl waving at him, but then he’d gone through the wall of the apartment next to them. He realized too late that it was the twin’s apartment, and he was suddenly in a bedroom.

There were posters of One Direction and other bands he wasn’t familiar with. He turned around as he heard a rustling and he squeaked when he saw that it was Hailey, the girl of the duo, and she was starting to change after having clearly taken a shower judging by the towel she started to pull off.

‘I’m so sorry!’ he cried even if she couldn’t seem to see or hear Peter, one hand lifting up to cover his eyes as he used that other to rush through the wall. He was in the hallway a moment before he passed through the opposite wall into the room there. That room turned out to be the bathroom, which was being used.

A head popped out of the shower, hair wet with water and Peter was dismayed to realize it was Riley, the male twin. And he was in the shower, naked and wet! “Hailey! You finished all the hot water, you asshole!”

“Deal with it!” Hailey’s muffled voice yelled back.

Riley grumbled about annoying sisters and his head disappeared back inside the shower. Peter figured it was a good idea to leave now, before he invaded Riley’s privacy like some pervert. Maybe it was time to go back to his own apartment. Besides, he felt a bit... sick? Which was strange, since he usually didn’t feel anything besides emotions. Then again, this was just a dream. Wasn’t it?

He found his body in the bed, mask for his nighttime treatment strapped to his face and he felt even sicker now. It was probably that he hated the feel of the medicine and that’s why he felt sick? Maybe next time he went exploring he’d leave the building, even if it felt scary. There was a fuzzy quality to everything, like everything was being seen through a filter, or perhaps a cloud. Also, everything not in his immediate area faded away into darkness. Almost like it ceased to exist.

For now, he floated over to his body as he closed his eyes. After feeling a sensation like falling and falling, everything went dark.

- ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

Peter moaned as he woke up, the taste of the medicine in his mouth, coating his throat and it was in his nose. He yanked the mask off his face, wincing since his face felt tender from where the straps had been digging into his skin. Peter felt shaky when he stood, feeling like gravity was weighing even heavier than usual on his body. He barely made it to the bathroom before he was heaving, throwing up the popcorn he’d had earlier. The teenager wasn’t even sure what time it was, but since his aunt didn’t come running to see what the matter was, she must have gone to work.

“Peter, is that you, bud?” he heard Christopher ask, realizing that May must have left him watching over him while she left for her shift. There was a light knock on the bathroom door. “Do you need help?”

He was feeling like crap and even if he knew it wasn’t the man’s fault, he didn’t want his help. “No, go away,” he croaked, his body heaving again but he’d already thrown up the little bit he’d eaten, so it was mostly stomach bile.

The door opened as he was washing out his mouth, and he would have scoffed at the man not listening to him if he’d had any strength left. His medicine had never caused him to get sick like this before, so he wasn’t in the best of moods.

“Come on, let’s get you back to bed,” Chris said, voice almost gentle. He didn’t know why he didn’t like the man, but he... just couldn’t like him. There was something about him that Peter couldn’t put his finger on that made him dislike him. Maybe he was being unfair or childish, but he couldn’t help it.

“I’m fine,” he grumbled, shrugging off his hand as he shuffled back to bed. He climbed back into his twin bed, the mattress already old and a bit too small. Peter just refused to ask for another, since it wasn’t a necessity. He was fine with this for now, and didn’t want to burden May asking for another, bigger bed.

“Maybe I should give you another treatment,” Chris said, glancing at the nighttime machine.

Peter grimaced at the thought of feeling the medicine coating his throat, mouth and inside his nose again and his stomach protested it. “No,” he said as he shook his head, “I’m fine.” Peter knew he wouldn’t get away with not having the treatment again tomorrow night, but at least for tonight, he wanted to be free of it.

Chris hesitated, before he nodded. “Until tomorrow then,” he said, that smile on his face he hated so much. Peter didn’t understand why he hated it, hated Christopher. Maybe he should give him a chance? After all, he’s the reason they had gotten this newer machine practically for free.

“Yeah... thanks, Chris,” he muttered, pulling his blankets up to his chin.

The man paused as he’d been about to leave and after a moment he turned with a smile. “It’s no problem. I want to help you and your aunt.” He pulled the door closed. “Sweet dreams, Peter.”

Peter’s room was plunged into darkness and he curled up under the blanket. He closed his eyes and hoped he was able to fly away again in his dreams. It was nice being able to get away from his weak body and the problems that brought him and his aunt.

So, he flew away in his dreams, that felt more real than they should be.-

#Till I Touch The Sky #Peter Parker #May Parker #Tony Stark #fanfiction #Things That Go Knock In The Night series #myfanfiction #name-me-regret #regret writes #regret fanfiction

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shesawriter39049 · 5 years

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CV SQUAD PT.1 (M)

Podcast host/Youtuber/Influencer BTS & OC

CV SQUAD TAKE: MIAMI,NEW YORK, LONDON, LA

CV SQUAD TAKE MIAMI- PART 1 OF 2

WARNINGS:(There’s both some M/F & M/M smuttyness in here so I’ll let you find out which warnings apply to who) Some hand fun,Hella dirty talk, cum play, spit play, light choking, public sex, light mirror kink ,a ton of teasing between all 8 ��Characters” All the boy’s are Bi in this BTW . Tatted and Pierced BTS (Not all but most)

JIMIN/OC MAIN FOCUS OT7 SUBFOCUS (MXM/MXF)

In this part Hoseok/Yoongi have a bigger roll in my opinion but again there all in it a ton

There is a lot of dialog in this one but it’s needed…I’m introducing 8 people sooooo lol

9.7 K

AU SUMMARY : The “CV SQUAD” is made up of Jimin,YN, Namjoon, Yoongi, and Kookie a group of friends who run a podcast called “Candid Vibes” . That was created initially for a media arts project,in college which is actually how they all met! Now fast forward a good 4 years, a YT channel and millions of listeners later..and we have the CVSQUADTOUR. A four city tour spanning over 16 days, with guest appearances from some of their good friends over at “TEAMJTH” AKA Jin, Taehyung,and Hoseok. Follow along to get the full candid behind the scenes access to everything that takes place over the next 2 weeks, including the moments there definitely going to edit out of the tour vlogs!!! P.S the full backstory will be linked at the end!

***This is happening in real time, so in some scenes if there’s a [C] in front of the person dialog that means there talking into the camera. Or if it says [FILMING] that means there in shot but not talking directly to the camera***

****Wednesday July 4th, 5:45 AM,Valencia, CA -CV SQUAD HOUSE (Tour starts on the 5th in Miami) ***

“Ah fuck!!” A loud grumbled leaves Yoongi's chest as he sets the camera on the kitchen counter, ruffling his hands through his faded ice blue locks, readjusting his oversized cat eye glasses on his face before pushing the record button.

[C] “Aye, goodmorning guys, it’s ughhh fuck, 5:45 which is why the lighting probaly sucks in addition to the fact that I’m not Jungkook! Sooo as you guys know we all went out last night with the guys over at TEAMJTH, for a pre-tour dinner thing, which started at 7:30 but Y/N and Jimin didint get there till like 8 which, what the fuck else is new.” Letting out a slow exhale as his body just slouched along the back counter, taking a sip of coffee before continuing his thought.

[C] “ Well, Jin and I were the first to leave around, like 11:30 ish and I had the displeasure of spending the night here, because that’s the only way I’d ensure these asshats woke up on time. And when I got up this morning my phone said the last time the alarm went off was a little after 3AM..and again it’s 5:45 and I’m about to go wake them up because come look at this shit!“ Turning the camera away from his face to let it lead the way down the hallway and into the PR room, or “Hell” as Yoongi called it .

There was a room on the first floor that was originally meant to be a “parlor” but obviously that's not anything the 4 of you would need or want! So it was turned into the PR closet, as you guys were always being sent items to review, or even paid to post about it. It only took one of you missing an ad that couldve made you an easy 3k to realize this shit needed to be kept out of your bedrooms until the job was done. So inteased you have a room filled with numerous clothing racks and boxes, separated by CV member! But it was also where all of your luggage was sitting and it barely looked liked you guys were packed, or at least not 16 days worth!

Letting the camera pan the room as he let out an exasperated sigh, even in the dim lighting only fueled by the numerous neon signs along the walls it was still clear this room was a hot ass mess.

[C] “Can we all take a moment to appreciate the site in front of us, that is without a doubt bullshit!” Panning the camera over to the right, zooming in slightly, on all of your half-assed excuse for packing. “Yeah, so on that note, were gonna walk down the hall and wake up Jimin first, and then make our way upstairs to get everyone else.”

Making his way down a long dark hallway before making a right to head to Jimin’s room, until he hears an almost animalistic noise coming from the opposite direction. Heading to the laundry room instead only to find Jungkook, snoring,with his mouth open, on a bean bag chair..with a bag of chocolate covered lays to his right.

There was a very long pause, as the camera pans between Kookie and Yoongi, before his eyes flutter shut, holding the bridge of his nose between his index and thumb.

[C] “Ya know, sometimes...I just really don’t know what my life is….I really, really don't….” reaching down to shake Jungkook “Hey, hey,HEY! Kookie! Dude whyyyyyyy !? What are you doin on the floor in here of all places?” Pausing momentarily honestly hoping for an answer than even made a fragment of sense. Instead he was greeted with a displeased grumble as kookie attempted to readjust on the oversized bean bag chair .

[C] “Nooo no, no up! Get up, go shower, and finish packing NOW! You got like an hour and 7 minutes. And then your taking this damn camera back because I hate this thing! ”

The tone alone has the younger abiding Yoongi’s orders, far too tired to argue anyway slowly rolling off the floor, grabbing his chips in the process. Managing to get chocolate all over the collar of the white “OFF white” Jacket he slept in. While Kookie slugged his way out of the laundry room, still whining like a bart in the process.

Quickly whipping out his phone to check Jungkooks IG, letting out a relieved sigh at his last 3 posts which all had well over 600k likes. But more importantly Jungkook posted the sponsored post, prior to ruining the jacket...and that’s all that mattered!

[C] “One down..two to go….”

What he actually meant was Yoongi didn't need to wake up was Namjoon, well aware that he was already up and well…..that’s because that's whose room he started and woke up in himself….

Finally heading back to his initial mission, Jimin, turning in the opposite direction, making a right, then walking down four very random stairs that lead to his bedroom . Two black framed french doors sat cracked, the room initially was a sunroom converted to a bedroom because Jimin wanted to be on the first floor and the guest room “wouldn’t even hold my shoes “. So this was the alternative...

Upon opening it he finds the both of you in bed together, but there's nothing even remotely sexual about this if anything it’s comical. Both fully dressed, like shoes and all, how you managed to sleep in that skin tight hot pink body con dress, that barely looked like you had room to breathe is besides me. The upper half of your body was almost hanging half off his california king while Jimin’s foot was damn near in a ballerina point. Evident even through his leather dress boots, neck stretched so far to the side it was almost on his night stand. One hand draped over your hip while the other hung off the bed.

[C] “Why am I not even remotely surprised at this point!?.” A combination of frustration and amusement laced within his voice as he slumped to the ground. Letting a low cackle rupture through his throat, as he still tried to keep his voice at a whisper. Only standing in the door frame at this point. “ I swear I don’t get paid enough for this…..” Walking over to turn on the lights, but unfortunately Jimin only had mood lighting so the dim aesthetic really did nothing to stir the two of you.

Flipping the angle so the camera was facing him again before speaking into it at a hushed tone [C]“Offf course this boy has strip club hoe lighting to go with his damn silk curtains because why wouldn't he! Alright guys’ Imma set this camera on the nightstand, because these two are damn near comatose, and I need two hands for this! I’m not sure how much footage you will or won't get but I really need to get them up so blame Kookie for also being hungover if this parts shitty!”

At this point because of where the camera was sitting you could only see the bottom of the bed , but it was picking up the conversation taking place above it.

Yoongi reached over readjusting your body on the bed only causing you drape your arms around him in attempts to pull him in “No, no, no..Y/n get up..” Shaking your body until your eyes fluttered, making your roll over closer to Jimin, who welcomed you with no hesitation even in his sleep, always a cuddler even in the platonic sense.

“Alright fuck this..” Hopping on the bed between the two of you, shaking you both until your eyes fluttered open. Jimin’s even puffer than usual from lack of sleep, slipping into complete slits in his face. You weren't doing any better, suddenly your lash extensions felt like bricks hanging on your lids, as you struggled to keep your eyes ajar. A loud screech comparable to banche left your throat as you stretched,managing to crack a few bones in the process… “Yo, it’s like 5 to 6...you two need to shower and finish packing,private or not we still gotta go through TSA, and you know how LAX is...we need to be outta here by 8! Let’s get movin!!” He was far from yelling but there was no room for debate within the leverage he held as he spoke.

Rolling over to your side, resting your hand on your temple, eyes zoning in on a very faint mark behind Yoongi’s ear making your smirk slightly. “Where did you sleep last night?” Brow quirked at the sudden implied question, the devilish grin on your face transferring to jimins as he ruffled his fingers through his long dark locks. Currently almost jet black, parted messily down the middle with a couple pieces falling in his face framing that lethal jawline of his! Kicking off his shoes and unbuttoning his white dress shirt, leaving his toned caramelized abdomen on display. Giving you a sneak peek at the roses that danced along his ribcage, as he readjusted next to you on the bed.

“Yeah Yoongi where did you sleep last night hmm? Needed a little stress reliever before tour even starts aye?” The playful yet taunting tenor in Jimin's voice eared an eye roll and middle finger from Yoongi.

“Fuck you both, I slept in the guest room thank you very much!” Snapping back with a snarl, while the two of you instantly exchanged glances, eyes meeting and rolling in the same direction simultaneously.

“Really!?” The word left both of your lips in unison, dry as all hell, as you tried to ease off the bed, your hangover knocking you right on your ass. Literally, plopping back down next to jimin, causing him to smile over at you fondly, stroking the side of your jaw. The contrast of the metal from his rings soothing your skin, nuzzling your face slightly into his palm.

The tone in both of your voices screamed “BULLSHIT”! There were things that happened every once in a while that were kept on the DL, even within the squad ,typically never confirmed or denied, just forever the butt of every, inside joke.

“How the fuck would either of you know different? Your drunk ass couldn't even make it upstairs!” The words slipped from his lips so effortlessly it was like he was already prepared for the two of you to give him that reaction.

“Bitch” Bringing your hand down to meet his ass, as he rolled off the bed smaking it so hard your palm burned from the impact. Earning a low hiss to leave his throat, a noise that was secretly pleasing to both Jimin and yourself if were being honest.

“No, but I’m serious, you two up! Up!” Shoeing his hands in your direction .

Jimin hopped off the bed first, throwing his shirt on the floor “For once, the little grimiln over there actually has a method to his madness, we need to get moving princess..” Abruptly grabbing you off the bed and throwing you over his shoulder before walking towards the door.

“Hey I heard that! You little shit!” Yoongi aimed a pillow at Jimin but considering he’s not even remotely athletic it landed on your ass instead! Earning a loud squeal from the sudden change of, well shit everything as now you're literally staring at the ground and his ass, in these skin tight leather pants.

The minute the two of you made it into the hallway and he walked up those 4 steps it was game over. All Yoongi could hear from inside Jimin’s bedroom was you literally screaming “Park, down,now put me down I’m literally going to throw up put me down!!”

Picking the camera off the nightstand as he plopped back down on Jimin’s bed , head jerking suddenly from the feeling of something rolling out of the pillowcase. Only to find it’s a bottle of lube, quickly looking at the brand before giving what appeared to be an approving nod, throwing it to the side before bringing the camera up to his face.

[C] “Well ladies and gentlemen..this is gonna be...interesting..to say the least..I’mma go make my rounds, make sure everyone is actually up. Make sure Y/N didn't puke in the damn hallway, I also need to check in with our boys over at TEAMJTH. I’m sure Jin’s the only coherent one, I know they were all over here at some point and I have no idea what time they left!” Pausing to pull his phone out of his pocket, letting his thumb hover over Jin’s contact.

[C] “ Maybe I’ll be somewhat nice and make a starbucks run….meh will see how I feel.But yeah, will check in once Kook’s sober so he can film because I’m sure this was a shit show! So on that note..I’m out! Peace!!”

~~~~~~

“How you wanna do this ?” Voice sitting barley above a whisper as he stroked your cheek, while you sat on the ground of the 1st floor guest bathroom. Hair all tousled to the right as your head rested on your arm, which was still braced along the toilet seat. A warm rag coming up to grace the back of your neck “You wanna shower here or go upstair-” cutting him off with a nod before he could even finish his thought. Needing to sit in the humidity before you even tried to walk upstairs. Nodding quickly before walking behind you to turn the shower up, stepping out into the hallway to grab a towel.

“Someone slept in her makeup…” Tisking lowly as he placed the towel on the counter, before walking back out into the wall.

“Fuck, yeah I know thank god my skin is damn near bullet proof or else I’d be fucked, remind me to never drink on a stomach fuled by soley the dessert menu! “ Rolling your eyes in frustration at no one but yourself as you slowly got off the ground.Feeling slightly light headed in the process, pulling your dress over your head. Only revealing a nude g-string, the dress was so tight you almost considered not wearing panties at all. As you stepped into the shower you heard the door open again, apparently he went to also grab you makeup wipes, only catching the tail end of your naked body as you disappeared behind the steamed glass.

Not even bothering to apologize because it wasn't the first time he’d seen you like that, sticking your head out the glass, extending your arms for the wipes, as you smiled over in his direction. “Thank you for taking care of my hungover ass…” Shooting him a lazy smile as you rested your head against the tile.

Returning the gesture with a slight bow of the head as he edged towards the door, “No need to thank me, I’mma go hop in the shower myself, I also sat some tylenol on the counter, but come find me if you need me okay?” The genuine care and concern in his voice forced you to give him a legit smile no matter how dead your body felt, Jimin was good people, you don’t meet a lot of them in this industry that’s for damn sure! Nodding in response, another thank you left your lips lightly before letting your body reunite with the steam.

“How’s she feelin?” Jimin heard Namjoon’s voice echo throughout the empty hallway , changing his direction from his bedroom over to the kitchen. Joon was standing behind the island shirtless, mixing together a protein drink, Jimin noticed the tripbod to his right that was holding his phone. Figuring he probably just filmed something, more than likely an instagram video. Shamelessly taking in Namajon’s honey dipped complexion, offset by his dark brows and ice blonde hair.

Joon went through phases were he choose to tone his body, always someone with a strong build so it didn't take much for him to build up muscle mass. In Jimin eyes he was the perfect combination of muscular yet soft all at the same time! A couple small tattoo’s dancing along his body, all quotes written in an old fashioned script. From various books, or artist that caught his attention, not one for random spur or the moment pieces they all held a lot of meaning!

A dimply smile pulled on Joon’s face as he observed the way the younger was damn near drooling “Thanks Chim, I’m glad your enjoying the progress I’m making at the gym” The smile quickly turned into a full blown smirk once he took in how red Jimin got, even though his tanned complexion.

Shaking his head lightly as he chuckled, slightly embarrassed, letting his eyes meet their freshly polished hardwood floors, before brining his gaze back to his elder. Raking his fingers through his hair before slowly letting them slide down his neck “What can I say, I appreciate the hard work that’s all...I know it’s not easy to stay committed!”Ending with a slight nod , that held equal amounts of sass and arrogance.

Strutting over to grab a seat in front of Namjoon “Are these any good, or are they just payin you well?”

A playful tenor rang through his voice as he recognized the very popular protein brand to his right. Finally putting two and two together, as far as his appearance and the tripod, he was clearly filming an AD for the company. Namjoon quirked his brow clearly not as amused as Jimin, while taking a sip, “Don”t try me, last I checked none of us were hungry enough to take a deal just because. We either actually like it or we don’t post about it..or did I miss something?”

Dropping his posture slightly, resting his chin on his knuckles as he locked his eyes with the younger Namjoon’s rebuttal had jimin throwing his hands up, waving his white flag immediately. “Touche, your right, your right! Lemme taste it..” He actually wasn’t asking more so demanding as he grabbed the cup, lacing his tongue around the straw before wrapping his lips around it.

Namjoon’s eyes narrowed into tiny slits at the sight, well aware of what this little shit was doing, making sure the diamond , from his piercing caught the end of the straw “Really? Is that what it is Park?” Cocking his head to the side slightly, there was an air of amusement that danced along his face while Jimin faked innocence, earning an eye roll from namjoon while he stepped back relaxing against counter. Putting his full abdomen, V line and all on display, while his joggers sat dangerously low...I swear the two of them secretly got off on constantly tempting each other! Though in all honesty it was USUALLY always harmless and just playful, the four of you flirts by nature.

“So what time did you go to bed last night?” Jimin tried to play it cool but Namjon knew he was digging..trying to see if anything happened between him and Yoongi.

“Ugh, around 1, a little after Hoe-seok made an apperance….fuck, you two missed A LOT!”

“What? OH the lapdance!? Fuckkkk I know! That’s the last thing I remember looking at one my phone, just wait until drama channels get a hold of it, Next thing you know there engaged to be married! “ Jimin rolled his eyes annoyed at just the thought of how everything suddenly became an internet headline.Not that it’s ever stopped any of them from doing whatever they want, when they want!

There was suddenly a mischievous glint in Namjoon’s eyes before he shook his head “Nah, there was another lap dance, that hopefully isn't on anybody's snap chat…” .

Jimin’s brows furrowed in slight confusion, and annoyance at the way Namjoon was dragging this out “Just fuckin send it Joonie I don’t have all damn day!”

A snort left namjoon’s body as he dropped his head on the island before continuing “ Alright ,alright, so when I got home, Kookie, Tae, Ryland, And morgan were chillin’ listening to The Weeknd doing jell-o shots. He was originally giving Morgan a lap dance,and like stripping and shit. Then I come in, we all know Hoseok can’t hold his liquor, I make a comment about his ass in those jeans he was wearing and the next thing I know he’s on my lap…and ugh, yeah...”

The hesitation as his jaw closed, let Jimin known there was more he wanted to say he just choose not too, now how much more is the question.

Jimin gazed back at him completely wide eyed, jaw damn near hanging to the floor, fuck what he would’ve given to be there for that! “Careful you might catch something…” Joon teased as he took his phone off the tripod…”Fuck, it’s almsot 6:30 you need to get your ass in the shower before Yoongi cut’s your balls off , he just left, and he spent all morning bitching!”

“Ughhh, fine but were texting about this whole ..”dance” situation later because I got questions! Also when is Yoongi NOT bitching, you just love being his little helper huh? Such a good little boy for him aren't you Joonie!!” The taunting almost demeaning tone in Jimin’s voice had his blood boiling, brow quirked, jaw extremely tight. His lethal gaze was daring the younger to even think about saying another word!

Jimin was well aware if they did have sex theres no way in hell Namjoon was bottoming. So he was hoping if he struck a nerve Joon would correct him which would at least confirm if his suspicion of them hooking up in the past was right. But clearly Namjoon was a little too smart for that one…

“Nah, more like I just know how to keep my shit together so I don’t get bitched out, now how about you be a good little boy for your hyung and go take a shower yeah!?” Now it was Joon’s turn to taunt Jimin , his tone alone had jimin shifting in his seat, low, calm yet authoritative all at the same time. All of the boys were Korean-American, so there were obviously some cultural things that just weren’t done as often in america, and referring to your male elder as “Hyung” constantly was one of them. But considering Jimin can find a way to turn anything into a kink he already knew Jimin’s underwear we soaked on command!

Jimin exhaled deeply it was clear as day he was soooo damn annoyed “Sure, anything for you hyung…” Tone dry and snarky as all hell, adding a very condescending enfaces on the honorary as he hopped out the chair, making sure to sway in his skin tight leather pants as he exited the kitchen.

“That’s it, such a good boy for me Jiminie, such a good boy..” Namjoon coaxed with almost cynical smile, earning a very deserved dual middle finger from the younger as he fully exited the space.

~~~~~~

“Can you arch for me a little, a little more, a little..yesss just like that...just lean into it a little...perfect now stay like that for me…” If Yoongi didn't know any, he’d probably second guess himself before walking into this room. Actually he’s still second guessing himself, but to his pleasant surprise, it’s a photoshoot not an orgy! . As Jimin, Namjoon, and yourself, laid across your fluffy white couch in an obscene amount of Clavin Klein while Jungkook took pics for an IG post. With all the traveling you guys were about to be doing you just didn't trust yourself to get some of these AD’s up on time so you were trying to cram as much as you could! Forcing yourself to do your infamous “5 minute beat” but begging Kookie to edit the fuck outta these pic’s because you still felt like literal death!

Jimin, opting to go shirtless with the briefs peeked out from under the joggers, namjoon kept on a hoodie leaving it completely unzipped, while you went for the short’s teasing a red and white thong above the waist band along with the matching bra. All of you going for variations of red, white, and blue due to the day at hand.

Rolling his eyes instantly at the sight in front of him “For your safety I really hope this means your all done packing and when the uber comes in 15 minues you��ll be ready to go!” Setting down a tray of drinks and bagels, face hidden behind a pair of oversized designer shades. The low rasp in his voice let you know he was just exhausted as the rest of you, but you still had shit to do regardless!

“You reallllly have no faith in us!” You could literally hear the pout in Jimin’s voice without even looking.

“The outfits were sorted on racks, when our stylist and Sara were here yesterday we just ran out of time between that conference call and getting ready for dinner to pack it all. There really wasn't shit to do!” You perked up, with a shrug reaching up to grab the Lavender tea, typically a coffee person but you knew since you were sick this morning, and still felt a little off this one was for you! Reclining your back into Namjoon’s chest slightly, while to stole your drink out of your hand, inviting himself to taste it. Brining one hand over to soothe up and down your arm before having the nerve to pass your drink over to Jimin instead of returning it to you.

“Alright, and were sure?! Kookie, all your equipment, is packed, labeled, secured!?” Raising his glasses up to look the youngest in the eyes, that infamous chipmunk smile, meeting Yoongi’s glare.

“Yesss Yoongi, that stuff’s been backed, and double checked, it’s good, were good!!”

Stepping back slowly with a nod of approval, clearing his throat before speaking “Even though the four of you are going to be the cause of my premature aging, wrinkles and receding hairline...I just ugh, want you to know I’m honestly really proud of you guys!This was just some little bullshit project we did to pass trade school, in hopes of one day working in our field. And you guys managed to turn it into a career, we were just hoping to be able to do what we love without struggling now look …” Pausing suddenly, you could hear his voice wavering, making you all equally teary eyed as this was NOT like Min Yoongi at all.

“For the record it’s the five of us, always has been, always will be, we wouldn’t have made it this far without you, hell we wouldn't have graduated without you honestly!” Jimin pipped in first, feeling the need to stroke his ego a little, even though he was speaking straight facts.

Yoongi was technically the eldest, and was wayyy better at managing the combination of partying and studying while living in LA! When you guys met originally 4 years ago , Yoongi was 21, Joon was turning 21, you were 20, Jimin was 19, and Kookie just turned 18. All at different walks in life, as you enrolled in this program for media arts just trying to turn your hopes into something feasible.

“Don’t ever forget that, Candid Vibes wouldn’t be what it is without you, and we love you too by the way, I think you were dancing around that phrase!” Smiling over fondly in Yoongi’s direction, as he tried to hide the smile moving up his face.

The three of you shared a quick glance before getting up to tackle Yoongi who gave a displeased grumped but you all knew he secretly loved it! Squeezing until his legs gave out and he was rolling around on the floor trying to break free.

“Alrigh, alright get the fuck off me!!!” Swatting in your direction. Face contorted in aggravation while the three of you cackled aimlessly honestly not even phased by him anymore. This was just the way he showed his love and you wouldn’t want it any other way!

“ While I go double check on the Ubers, quickly film your update for the CVSQUADTOUR IG account, and please just do another one over on your bags!” There was a plea to his tone this time as opposed to the normal hints of anger!

Jungkook mounted his phone on the tripod so you guys could film and the video could be uploaded directly after. Just a standard update, wishing them a happy and safe 4th of July,letting them know how excited you all were, and to keep following all of your socials for updates, and pop-up events blah blah blah!

2 UberXL pulled up, one solely for your luggage alone, the cars were also sponsored, the four of you used Uber on a weekly basis! The drive to the airport was damn near 40 minutes in traffic thank god you were flying private and the plane wasn't leaving until you got there. The 3 of you almost falling asleep the minute your bodies hit the seats, last night's festivities hitting all at once. While Yoongi made business calls making sure your house and other things were looked over while the four of you traveled. The only other girl on the team was Sara, who had the toughest job in your opinion, being your shared assistant. She left for Miami yesterday,since that’s where her girlfriend is for college, wanting a little personal time before you guys ran her ragged!

Amongst arriving at LAX a couple fans noticed you guys and of course you stopped taking pics outside and in the meantime the guys over at TEAMJTH pulled up!

[FILMING-THIS ENTIRE SECTION IS BEING FILMED CASUALLY PANNING BETWEEN ALL 10 MEMBERS WITH NO MAIN FOCUS]

Clearly they had a brand deal of their own, all of them in Tommy Hilfiger loungewear from head to toe, and they all looked damn good! Hoseok’s long burgundy locs messy pushed out of his face, while pitch black ray bans covered his eyes. His joggers were so damn tight you could damn near see the muscles flex as he walked. If you didn't know any better you’d think you were drooling, his toned arms fully exposed in his loose fitting white tank top, making his tan look even stronger.

“Jung fucking -Hoseok…” A low growl left Jimin’s throat he was standing right next to you as he said it, not even bothering to whisper, the two of you sharing a glance that read the same damn thing..this man was fine as all hell!

While Taehyung trugged behind him, pulling a Jimin, as his hoodie sat slightly unzipped exposing his chiseled chest and the fact that he wasn't wearing a shirt, a couple thin chains dancing along his collarbone. His dark locks falling in his face from under his hood, this man had on looser fitting sweats, they were gray and he had on, no TYPE of underwear..none in site. Everything just slinging around as you walked.

“Oh fuck off…” You heard Junkgook whisper out to himself from behind the camera in a low almost aggravated tone at the site of Taehyung and you couldn't even blame him!

Last you had Jin in all black, fitted joggers and a pretty tight black tank top, and for the first time you realized how broad Jins shoulders were, and how nice this man’s arms were. His freshly touched up lavender locks bounced in the wind, offsetting the all balck outfit.

“Fuck..” left Nmajoon’s lips almost as if he was winded, at the sight of TEAMJTH approaching...yeah this was gonna ugh, be a fun little trip!!

All of the boys were openly Bi,as were you, there was no preference for any of you, you just liked who you liked. But something you‘ve noticed over the years is the 7 of them were a lot picker when it comes to their male counterparts. Yet they seemed to fit each others criteria effortlessly

Hug’s and hello’s were exchanged, but it was clear all of you needed a damn nap, the energy level was at a negative 2 right now!

Hoseok draped his arm around your shoulder as you guys made your way through the airport, keeping your body close to his as he made casual conversation. Voice sitting exceptionally husky due to lack of sleep but fuck if it didint sound good.

[JK IS STILL FILMING JUST NOT THE TWO OF THEM]

The two of you waited while the others went into the gift shop for snacks neither of you could be bothered to move. Leisurely laying his arm around your waist pulling you in to snuggle into his chest amongst hearing you yawn, repeatedly. As they say yawns are contagious, the moment his neck reclined, and that sinfully chiseled jawline went ajar, the light reflected on a piece of metal that you‘ve never seen before.

“Holy shit….” Glancing up at him, almost wanting to die as those words physically left your throat instead of staying in your head! Bringing his gaze down to meet yours, brows furrowed in confusion.

“Oh I ugh-I just noticed your tong-” A smirk moved up his face cutting you off mid sentence as he licked his lips before slowly letting the long wet muscle fall from his lips, letting you get a full view. But you couldn’t help notice the shape of it seemed a little..different.

“I got it done almost 3 weeks ago, we've just been video conferencing for all these meetings so you haven’t noticed. This one vibrates when you push it..that’s why it’s a little bigger…” His voice dropped to an octave that made your pussy do the tightest kegal imaginable. The look on his face proved that was kinda what he was aiming for, loving the way your body shuddered against his own.

Your throat felt uncomfortably dry as you gazed up at him, his eyes were locked on yours...dead set on making you fall apart in his arms and it wasn’t taking much. Clearly the universe decide to help you out, as the rest of the group slowly trampled out of the store. Jungkook leading the way from behind the lense. An almost arrogant smile curled up his face as he pulled back from you, easing back into casual conversation with the rest of the group.

~~~

[C] “Were walking through the airport….well fuck clearly you can see that, but were heading twoards the termal and I’m reallyyyy exicted!!” A squeak ruptured through your throat as you smiled over in Jungkook's direction. Jimin and Hoseok walking by in unison, fosseying there way towards the terminal Jazz hands, goofy ass expressions and all!

[C] “Kookie make sure you edit in some really dope Casey Neistat , type music, and editing on this part like I wanna look badd assss, slow - mos and all!” Namjoon hopped into frame out of nowhere earning a snort from kookie.

[C] “All right, let's go give it to me...I'll run ahead, and all of you give me your most badass strut and I’ll slow mo and edit that shit to the gods!!!” Kookie did as he said. Running to the end of the termal, counting down from 5 giving you all the signal to walk, and to be honest it was looking great. Until jimin had to end it with a casual almost “modest” if you will...slut drop upon reaching the end, and of course you couldn't be out done so you joined. Jimin just stayed in the position for a moment almost as if he were gracing the world with the view of his ass, before sticking out his tongue playfully at the camera to his right!

“Buss it down thotiana buss it downnnn” Hoseok cheered from the side at the site of the two of you, forever the hype man, encouraging you to live you best life. An obnoxiously loud cackle left both him and jin’s throat as they no doubt had that on their snap within seconds!

You can hear Jin and Hoseok in the background jokingly making comments about making it rain on both of you asses or something along those lines as you two strutted down the hall.

[C] I’ve never in my life seen Casey do anything like that…EVER” Yoongi’s tone came through the side stale as hell!!

“I mean, I support it, both the left and the right side of it…” Namjoon smirked back in Yoongi’s direction taking in the site of both asses swaying in front of him!

~~~

Jungkook, and Brendan TEAMJTH’s videographer lead the way into the plane first, and it was gorgeous, seating 14 comfortably had a mixture of chairs, couches, and a work space, one bedroom, and bath. In addition to an array of food, drinks and desserts, a special card sitting on the table next to an edible arrangement. Taking a couple pics to quickly upload to your IG account before getting settled .

There was someone from JETTLY waiting as you guys bored, showing you the amenities, introducing you to the pilot and such but there wasn’t a flight attendant present for the trip which was probably in their best interest!

“Strawberry or pineapple?” Taehyung brought his gaze over to Jungkook as he sat the camera on the table..shrugging nonchalantly, trying to hide the smile moving up his face.

“I don’t know surprise me..”

A smirk moving up Tae’s face at that “Close your eyes..” Dropping his voice slightly, as if it didn't already set at a sinful tenor naturally. Walking over to grab a piece of pineapple, biting into it partially to make sure it’s sweet. Flicking his index finger at the youngers bottom lip letting him know to open up, sliding the fruit into his mouth, while letting his finger lingers over his tongue. Making the younger smile slightly taking the hint, and lapping his tongue gently, fluttering his eyes open with a meek smile.

“You said surprise you…” Taehyung countered letting his lips hover over Jungkook’s before pulling back smugly making his way back over to the edible arrangement. Leaving the younger more than flustered….

“Alright guys, it’s gonna be a minute before we take off, since you're all finally in one place I need you guys to do one more update about tomorrow’s popup shop. Oh and we were able to get some of your merch there as well!! guys” Jackson, TEAMJTH’S manager spoke up, technically Jin,Hoseok, and Tae were just coming for shits and giggles. The plan originally wasn't a shared tour that’s why there only doing two shows.

But since it’s typical for you guys to have an alternating guest host at least once a month and your audience loves the threesum it just made sense. Of course since they were coming , pay was worked out, they will be compensated accordingly for the New York and LA shows as well as any of there merch that’s sold. Besides them being your friend’s the five of you just didn't do shady business!

The popup shop would be from 5-10 on the 5th, selling merch and a limited supply of brand collabs the 8 of you have done over the years!

~~~~~~

It was a little after 10 once the jet actually took off, the video was uploaded and your lives got to go on airplane mode! All of you forever grateful for the extremely dim lighting and the fact there were blinds draping the windows. The flight to Miami was about 5 hours and with the time difference by the time you landed it would be rolling on 8pm, you all had a 9:30 dinner meeting with your sponsors so sleeping was crucial.

All of you bundled up in different areas of the plane, the hum of music buzzed through the speakers, while your head laid alone on the couch kiddie-corner at the very back of the room. To be honest it seemed like you were the only one up, the light from your phone catching Jimin’s attention as he invited himself to snuggle up behind you. Sliding your phone out of your hand , placing it on the floor “You need to get some sleep…” the whisper hummed though your ear, as his hand found its home draping over your hip you knew he was right. Eyes burning like hell yet you couldn’t fall asleep…

Head covered under an oversized Calvin Klein hoodie, hiding his face in the crook of your neck, while his palm massaged your hip. A slow exhale left your body as you relaxed into his touch, “Fuck, I know..I just hate sleeping on flights!” A humm left his lips at that and you swore you could feel him smirking into your skin, as his hand slipped under the blanket, past the band of your shorts, toying with the hem of your calvins...A low chuckle left your throat, already well aware of were this was going, you kinda expected it just not this soon.

It’s been 4 months since anything sexually has happened between the two of you, and for some reason it only happens when your traveling. Maybe there’s just something in the air , it was in the bathroom at a brand event, in Bora Bora you found yourself on your knees in Moschino and he found himself shamelessly on his in Gucci. It was a great night, needless to say, the two of you ended up buying the outfits afterwards because there was no way in hell they could be returned!

“I’m surprised your over here with me actually…” Your words coming out slightly muffled as you tried to be respectful of the current atmosphere around you.

“And why’s that..” Bringing his hand down to soothe under your ass, while his lips left faint airy kisses down the side of your neck. Teeth grazing the thin chain around your neck, toying it between his teeth.

“Well, with the way you've been eyeing Hoseok the past two days I figured you’d jump on the opportunity to cuddle up under him...”. Turning your head slightly with a playful smirk waiting for him to bring his lips up to meet yours.

“Coming from the woman who almost creamed her panties when she realized he had his tongue pierced today?” Even though he phrased it as a question his tone came off very “matter of factly” leaving no room for debate. Tugging your bottom lip between his teeth, before lapping over it with his tongue,letting the tiny diamond ball of his own dance along your flesh. “How didn't you notice that last night?” Sucking your lip between his teeth, not even really expecting a response as he dug his nails into your ass, rolling his hips into you until your knead out slightly. Eyes fluttering shut, as you arched back into his touch, grinds your ass into him until you ripped a stifled moan from his throat!

Sinking his teeth into the side of your neck in response until you dug your nails in his thigh “We have a meeting behave….” A deep sigh left his lips but he abided anyway, using his tongue to assault your neck instead.

“I saw the way you were looking at him all night,I don't blame you, I was starting just as hard as you were baby.” Bringing his hand up to grab your neck, applying just the right amount of pressure, as his lips teased up your ear. Tugging your hoops between his teeth before sucking a nice little reminder right beneath your ear.

Sliding his hands past your panties to swipe of your clit, a low moan leaving both of your lips “Fuck, Hobi really did get your little pussy wet didint he? Can you imagine how good it would feel to have both of us smothered between your thighs? Telling you how sweet you taste and how good you look while you come.” His lips were literally buried into your ear as he spoke, trying to keep is voice as low as possible, the feeling of his breathe teasing your skin alone had your body shuddering. “God your always so sweet too, you know Hoseok has his cock pierced in 2 places right?”

That alone ripped another moan from your throat as he eased to two fingers in until the rings on his fingers were submerged with you heat. Walls flexing on command as he molded himself around you, curling his fingers upwards to tease at the roof of your pussy. Biting down on your lip so hard you thought you’d draw blood. Thrusting his fingers in and out at an agonizing pace, the girth between the two of them had you arching within seconds , sliding a third finger in and your walls welcomed the stretch effortlessly, as you coated him in your juices. “God your so fuckin’ tight, I bet I got you thinkin about him bending you over -”

“While I have your dick in my mouth? yeah that’s exactly what I’m thinking about. Me wrapping my lips around you until you come down my throat.” The words hissed from your throat as your heat pulsed around him you could almost hear your juices slushing around as he pumped his fingers in and out. “You always look so good when your begging, you turn into such a little slut it’s so sexy.” Now it’s your turn to tease, grabbing his face in your hands pulling his lips down to meet yours. Sliding your tongue into his mouth when you hear him let out an involuntary cry as you start grinding your hips back even harder. Allowing his tongue to map every area in your mouth, the cool sensation from the diamond ball in contrast to the warmth of his tongue has your biting back moans every second. Both of you kissing each other with the same amount of fever , tongues melding against each other, as he exchanged your hole for your clit. Placing the pad of his fingers against it before adding steady pressure, as he moved in swift circles.

“Or how about you fucking me, while Hoseok works you open with his fingers, god his hands are so sexy.Until your just begging for him to fuck you, you know how much you love to beg.” A low whine left his throat as he pulled back to lay his tongue flat against your neck, licking a long slow stride before sucking down lightly beneath your chin. Just enough to make you want more, even though you knew he couldn’t...

“Jiminnnn...” You whined slightly reclining your neck even more humming out against your skin in response, lips vibrating against your pulse as if he was actually curious as to why you were calling his name.

“god yes, making you fall apart up under him while you make me cum for you...making a mess all over you cock before he fucks you open with his.” Bringing his lips back over to yours with a slight growl, panting out against his tongue, not allowing yourself to pull away because your afraid of how loud you’ll become, needing his lips and tongue to muffle your cries, as you feel the heat growing in your stomach.

Sliding his oppiste had into your panites, gliding three fingers in knuckle deep, just keeping them stationary, only adding to the immense pressure building in your stomach.

“Your soo good, your fingers are soo good..” Moaning out against his tongue, as low as possible before sucking it into your mouth, his fingers always filled you perfectly, it never took much for him to get you off. Hoping the fact that his hoodie was draping over both of your faces muted out some of the noise.

The neediness dripping from his tongue aren't helping either as you grind your hips into his hand, helping chase your own orgasm. “Fuck I forget much of a promblem this mouth of yours is, your gonna fuck around and make me come from that alone, god your so fuckin sexy…” You could feel him start to build up momentum his fingers started working even faster, needing to feel you come just as bad as you “Your dripping down my hand right now, fuck I just wanna taste you, make you come all over my face.”

Burying your face in the crook of his neck, sinking your teeth into the base merissily, edging you towards your release. “That’s it, fuck yourself on my fingers baby, I can feel how tight your clit is, come for me, come nice and hard for me….” Panting out gainst his your hair as your muscles started to seeze biting down on his neck disgustly hard as you came…… body shuddaring in his embrase as he contiuned working your clit, easing you through your orgasm “Fuck yes, just like that...keep comming for me baby” No matter how sensetive you were you still kept rocking abck agaisnt him, his dick impposibly hard in his pants until you heard a low growl leave his chest. You knew Jimin well enough to know there was a 99% chance he just came….

A low chuckle left your throat at that ...reaching down in his pants as he swirled his fingers in yours. It was like the two of you worked off of one brain cell, brinings your fingers up to each others mouths, lapping your tongues around the digits effortlessly before bringing your lips together. Moaning out simultaneously the two of you tasted each other, the kiss was slow and lazy, letting his tongue have it’s way you as you were spent at this point. Eyes so heavy you almost couldn't open them once he pulled away “Get some sleep…” the words brushed against your lips with a lazy smile before kissing the tip of your nose. The scent of you rolling off his tongue as he spoke. “My entire bodies pliant right now...I don't have a choice, I’m not moving and neither are you!”

Placing one more kiss along your lips before readjusting the two of you under the blankets, before well needed sleep effortlessly washed over your bodies.

~~~~~

The feeling of someone’s hand roaming through your hair is what had your eyes breaking apart. It wasn’t Jimin though you knew what he felt like. These hands were longer, but equally delicate, eyes flutter up to see it was Taehyung. With a camera. Dead in your face.

[C] “Were hereeeee..” The words left his lips sing song like, back to his normal playful self, clearly sleep did him well. Soothing his palm over you back as you grumbled in dismay burying your face back in the blanket...until you remember the discomfort sitting in your panties from earlier, and you instantly felt the desire to hop up and run to the bathroom!

Stepping into the bathroom too quickly wipe down with a towel swamping out your underwear, putting a soiled ones in a bag and sliding them in your cosmetic bag. Upon walking out of course Hoseok would be the one waiting to use the bathroom.

Resting against the wall, shirt long gone, as his hands sat casually in his pockets, the look on his face just felt like he knew something. Or maybe you just felt awkward because you and Jimin got off to the idea of having a threesom with the man in front of you!

“Did you sleep well?”

“I ugh, yeah, yeah I did ..you?” Hoping to god your voice didn't come out as shaky as it felt.

Another all knowing smirk moved up his face, with a slight shrug “Meh, I mean...it couldve been better….” Easing his back off the wall to talk past you, body dusting against yours slightly as he entered the bathroom. Allowing you to get a full view of beautifully done back piece, Hosoek had one tattoo, and the thing was HUGE...taking up a good 70 percent of his extremely muscular back. It was an extremely detailed leopard, with a tone of tropical themed flowers around it. He got it done in Thailand..about 2 years ago over the span of 3 day!

The minute you returned to the main area Jimin’s eyes met yours exchanging the same look before randomly bursting out into a fit of laughter causing everyone else to glare in your direction. THIS is why the two of you were able to have sex every once on and while, because once it was over..it was over, the two of you were able to just revert back as if nothing ever happened! Walking over to investigate your damage, yanking his hoodie to the side, thankfully the brutal mark was low enough on his shoulder that any shirt with sleeves would cover it! But fuck if it wasn;t the deepest shade of purple imagiabele, a hiss left your lips at the site of it.

“Don’t worry about it, you know how much I get off on pain..” The words were barely audible as whispered out into your hair. Pulling back from you with a smirk, walking over to pack his blankets and such back in his luggage.

~~~

Once the plane officially settled and the 10 of you made your way to the airbnb it was pushing 8:30, and luckily the sponsors had a feeling this would happen and pushed dinner back to 10. But that still didn't leave MUCH time for getting ready.

Upon pulling up you all recognized the house, it was the “Santorini” very popular amongst influencers as it had 5 bedoroms 4 baths, nine bed all together, a hot tub, pool the full nine. Unfortunately you lot were far too rushed to explore or even pick out rooms, recognizing the car that was waiting outside thankful it was the hair and makeup duo you reached out to weeks ago through IG to do your glam while in Miami.

The house was a mess within seconds, all of you running around throwing clothes everywhere trying to find what you needed, the ten of you had never gotten ready so fast in your lives.

Jungkook and Brenden were ready first, within 20 minutes tops, the least high maintenance of the group, whipping out there cameras as they watched all the casos unfold. Even Though 80% would have to be cut as there were a lot of naked and or half naked bodies running through this house!

It was only a matter of time before Jackson and Yoongi were screaming that the car was outside and you all needed to leave ..NOW!

[FILMING]

“Fuck where are my shoes!?

“Who has hairspray, that won’t make my hair look flakey on my hair!?”

“Kim-Tae-fucking-hyung are you wearing my Saint Laurent boots!?”

“NO! My feet are bigger than yours ya dick!”

Everything and everyone was a damn mess, yelling from all ends of the house, no one really sure who the other was actually speaking too!

“Ahhh shit I gotta go I gotta gooo..” You found yourself running away from your glam team as they chased behind you with hairspray and fix plus,trying to spray you down in the process “Someone zip this pleaseee…” The first person you ran by was Namjoon, his silk paisley shirt sitting slightly unbuttoned giving you a sneak peek at his toned chest while reaching behind to zip up your dress.

[FILMING] ‘Shit I don't know if I like thissss..” You knew that whine anywhere it was Jimin giving himself a one over in the mirror.

[FILMING] “Your ass looks delectable Jiminie we gotta gooooo!!!” The praise came from Namjoon making the younger blush slightly as he licked his cherry stained lips, not hesitating to look at his ass in the frame one more time before abiding. Confidence instantly back on a hundred as he smirked, swaying away from the mirror while running his fingers through his hair.

~~~~

The 10 of you pilled into 3 luxury Ubers arriving to the “Lobster Bar Sea Grille” About 10 minutes late but hey, you tried, Jimin and yourself strutted together, the last two to hop out of the car. Hoseok came over casually draping his hand over Jimin’s shoulder. “I like these pants on you Jimine…” tone calm as ever as his hand gently brushed up Jimin’s thigh, making the older chuckle upon feeling his muscles tense under his hold.

Turning his head upwards slightly to meet Hoseok’s gaze, letting his tongue play at the corner of his mouth “Yea, I can say the same about you,they make your thighs look really good” Jimin’s voice dropped a little, adding that slightly whiny twang that never failed to get him his way! Eye’s shamelessly trailing up Hoseok’s body

A humm leaving Hosoek’s lips in response as his hand coily trailed down Jimin’s back, the slight whimper that left Jimin’s throat the lower he got didn't go unnoticed. Once Hoseok's hand reached his ass he didn't hesitate to squeeze it firmly in his palm until the younger knead out slightly. Pulling back with a smirk “Let’s ugh..go knock this meeting out so yeah?” Lips hovering over Jimin’s ear as he whispered into his skin. A low rumble ruptured through his chest at the way the younger was just putty in his hands. Typically Jimin had this effect on everyone else, he’s not used to being knocked on his ass, Hoseok’s a completely different type of creature that’s for damn sure. This time giving his ass a couple playful smacks before jogging over to Jin and Taehyung as the walked through the restaurant's doors.

“What. The. Fuck. Was. That.” Glancing over at Jimin with a smile, honestly you were kinda rooting for this, lord knowns he’s wanted to fuck Hoseok since they met.

“I have no idea, but if that mans dick isn't in my mouth by the end of the night..I’mma lose my shitt!!”

Upon walking in and exchanging hugs there appeared to only be seating left on either side of Hoseok..Jimin and yourself couldn't help but laugh as you took your seats, something tells me this was not a quisedence.

While Tae was next to jungkook Yoongi was sandwiched between Jin and Namjoon, and Jackson, and brenden were sitting in between the two Mike, and Jordan. They were behind the company sponsoring the actual aesthetic of the tour. Meaning they were the ones transforming these venues into the atmosphere all of your fans were walking into. Everything from lighting,seating, the podcast “set” the full nine. Each city was set to have it’s on vibe so none of the ‘set’s would look the same!

The night went well, not that you were surprised, you all knew time and place, and sitting in front of two men who were putting a shit ton of money into your tour was a place to act like professionals. But then midnight rolled around, and that’s when everyone started to get a little laxed Jimin and yourself were one in the same. The familiar smirk that tugged on his pouty lips as he sat in deep conversation with Hoseok told you to look under the table.

Only to find his fingers gently teasing over Hoseok’s cock through his pants, trickling up and down his zipper. Casually bringing his hand down to soothe up his inner thigh, fingers getting dangerously close to his length. Admiring the way Jimin kept gazing at him, the glint in his eyes were the perfect combination of innocent and sin all at the same time. You couldn't even help the smirk that tugged on your cheeks, feeling somewhat proud of you friend for finally going after what he’s wanted.

The sponsors left and graciously covering the bill, while the rest of you shifted outside towards the bar which set right off the water. But you couldn't help but notice Jimin get up to go to the bathroom, only for Hosoek to follow seconds later.

~~~~~~~

Walking in to find the younger pressed against the counter raking his fingers through his hair, not forgetting to arch slightly with a cheeky grin once his eyes zooned in on Hoseok.

Tsking lowly as he shook his head, one hand in his pocket as he strolled over causally “Such a little cock tease huh?” Smacking his ass so hard, even Hoseok moaned out at the sting, pulling a sharp gasp from Jimin’s body. Making him fall forward chuckling lightly as he braced his weight on his elbows, grinding back into Hoseok. Turning his head slightly as his tongue flicked the roof of his mouth, locking his eyes with the elder as he felt him, digg his thumbs into his hips before grinding his clothed cock into Jimin ass.

Making Jimin moan out shamelessly sucking his plum bottom lip into his mouth as he zoned in on his own reflection.

“Ohhh, you like watching yourself get fucked? You like seeing how pretty you look while your bent over like a little slut getting fucked into the counter?” Rolling his hips a little deeper with a growl, bringing his hand up to take a firm hold on Jimin’s sinfully thick neck.

Brining Jimin’s body flesh to his, Hoseok’s blunt teeth sunk deep into a pulse point, making the younger strangle out a high breathy moan that bounced off every surface of marble in this bathroom.

“Fuck”. Hosek bit his lip, snaking his tongue down the side of Jimin’s neck to ease the sting, his body shuddering at the feeling of the metal brushing against his skin. “You sound so fuckin good and I haven’t even touched you yet…I wonder what you’ll sound like if IIII…..”

Finally bringing his hand down to cup Jimin’s throbbing cock as he rolled his hips into him electing another needy whine from his throat bringing something almost primal out of Hoseok’s body! “Jiminnnn, baby fuck...” The tone in his voice reflected as if he was in pain, which he was, his dick was ready to fucking explode.

The pet name and sudden hint of neediness in Hoseok’s voice had Jimin turning into complete mush in his hold.

Taking Jimin’s hand in his own, pulling back just enough to let Jimin squeeze his cock in his hands through the almost painfully tight fabric, making it twitch a couple times, and he swore Jimin’s knees went limp.

“You want it…” Phrasing the question more as a statement , as he turned Jimin’s head waving his tongue into his mouth, making the younger respond instantly swirling it around the muscle. Hoseok’s hand made its way back to the front of Jimin’s body , soothing it down his chest,before palming his length again. “Soo sexy…” slurred out against Jimin’s mouth, as he sucked his plum bottom lip between his teeth.

Jimin was the one to break away from the kiss “I’m over having your tongue in my mouth , I need your cock” Tone exceptionally bratty, nipping at the elders chiseled jawline,rolling his hips back even deeper “You want me on my knees here or at home?”

THAT’S ALL SHE WROTE FOR NOW! LOL

(Since this is the first chapter I kinda forgot that this one would be the longest for obvious reasons! So I decided I didn't wanna make this like 16 k...cut it off at 9.5 and if this is received well, Miami will be done in 2 parts. So if you enjoyed this and want more...show some love and hit up my ask.

BACKSTORY

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alias-b · 5 years

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Without The Lights~ Billy Hargrove x OC Camille Harper

Chapter 2: Take On Me

A/N: Shorter chapter. Abuse mention. Billy takes a tour of Camille’s mansion on Loch Nora. Also posted on my Ao3. :) Thanks!

Camille waited barely twenty five minutes after she got home before that Camaro was racing down her street. Billy eyed the house and didn’t hide his awe. Sprinklers turned on to water the pristine grass while he smacked his door shut and fixed a curl back into place. A neighbor watering her roses stopped to stare so he winked. Adrenaline pumped and set him on edge, face heating before he pushed the doorbell. She answered in a baggy sweater that fell from one shoulder and tight acid wash jeans.

“Find the place all right?”

“Had some trouble picking the mansions apart on the street.” He earned a scoff when she locked the door.

“Shoes.”

“You’re kidding.” Billy stepped out of his boots and she reached to take his messenger bag, dropping it upon a nearby chair.

“You wanted the tour. Main hall,” she slid open two doors. “Living room.”

“Shit.” The radio played as they went, hurrying off.

“Kitchen, dining room.” She gestured to a glass door. “Back deck... Work out room.”

“Of course you have a pool too.”

“And hot tub.” Her remark pooled heat into his stomach. She'd said so casually like she didn't have ideas. Not like his. “Anyways, coat closet...first bathroom. Main staircase...this way.” Billy looked around at the art. Few photos of the little family framed the walls. He saw her grinning and toothy as a child into the camera. “No comments.”

“Just looking.” Blue eyes lingered on her face.

“We have a rec room in the basement. You’d love it. Couches. Games. Another TV. Best stereo in the house. But, here...second bathroom. Dad’s office. Mom’s studio. Master bedroom...guest room...and at the end: Me. No, you can’t see in my room. We’ll see how the project goes first when we actually start the paper.”

“I get it, you need to judge my performance before you commit.” Billy stepped closer and she laughed. He was game.

“Exactly that.” Camille noticed it then. A welt just peeking out of his hairline. “What happened to your head?”

“Nothing.”

“You were bleeding. It’s dried.”

“You missed a room,” Billy lifted a hand to the sore spot and turned from her. “Attic. Hiding something?”

“Never been in there,” she shrugged.

“You’ve never been in there?”

“Off limits. Dad keeps his work stuff in there, I guess”

“He a spy or some shit?”

“Scientist.” Camille came to his side and repeated herself. “You’re bleeding. Let me look at that.”

“Drop it.”

“Billy-”

“Just fucking drop it, I said!” Billy raised his voice and she reeled back in surprise. His shoulders sank down and he shook his head, nonchalant by force. “It’s stupid, I was in a hurry to get to your damn tour and hit my head.” Immediately, the heat turned off. That damn charm. He wore it like an oversized suit to hide under.

“Sure...” Camille cleared her throat. “But, I can’t have Hawkins' new Keg King bleeding on the grand tour. So, suck it up for two minutes.” Billy gave her a hard look and went into the bathroom, sitting down while she pulled a sterile wipe from a huge first aid kit.

“You came prepared.”

“I was into dancing and gymnastics, I get roughed up…"

He bit his tongue at that.

"This might sting.” Billy turned to stone and didn’t flinch by force when she drew the pad against his hairline. She hissed a little at the welt, gently shifting locks of hair to clean it up. “Nasty bruise coming. But, I think your hair will be fine.” He gave a comedic sigh of relief but stilled when her free hand drew up his chin to angle his face so she could finish. Crystal eyes blinked several times and he said nothing until she slipped from him. Perfume turned him to putty. Stole every move he could have possibly used on her. Seemed unfair. And what's worse was her acting oblivious. “Come on, I’ll order us a pizza while you look over the book list.” Breath heaved to enter his lungs and he swayed up to his feet to follow her out.

** ** **

“Ugh,” Billy slumped back into a chair. "Pick a different one." An empty pizza box sat between them.

“I already read it, you just need to skim. This is basically a free A plus for you and you're complaining."

"Guess." He glanced at her. Glowing and unworried like a rosy pink firework. Felt like it was about to go off in his face.

"Face it, Billy, you just hit the jackpot.” Camille laughed openly at him. She wasn't wrong there. “The Scarlet Letter. Easy read.” Deft fingers flicked through pages of the assignment and idly turned a TV channel to some martial arts flick. A character expertly spun under another to dodge a fist before they whirled their leg up, knocking their foe in the head. Camille lost her next thought and didn’t hear Billy whine about the paper, eyes wider and intent on the swift fighting.

“Whoa...hey. You’re, uh...” Billy was stuffing a pile of napkins toward her and Camille snapped back. Blood tricked from her nose.

“Shit, not now,” she jerked up, grabbing the ball of papers from him to cover it. Billy was a little stunned when she raced into a nearby bathroom. Really not his idea of how this day was supposed to go. A headache pulsed at the front of her brain. “Ugh.” Camille pinched napkins down and huffed, sniffing before she washed her nose with soap. Fuck and in front of the damn keg king too. She opened the door and he was there, reaching for the handle. Not a shy boy at all. Billy dropped his arm and tilted his head in question. Eyes narrowed so she explained. “I have this thing and I just get these dumb, little chronic nosebleeds. Happened ever since I was little. Think it might be worse, I must be lucky.”

“You dying?” He roused a giggle from her lips.

“No, not dying. I think. Just a stupid health thing. Never had that great an immune system when I was younger. I take pills for it.” She shrugged. “I’m better at hiding it when I’m at school. Few close friends know.”

“So, I’m a close friend now."

"Didn't mean it like that."

"Yet, you opened your mouth and said it to my face. Can't take it back. We bled together, Harpy.” Here he was, trapping her into another door frame. Teasing and dramatic. Completely charged and aware. Insufferable.

“Not sure it works that way but, cute that you do,” Camille poked his chest and went around him. Cute. Queen Bee was quick on feet as well. He couldn't fathom it. “Read the book, Hargrove. Really impress me.”

“What I heard is that I have a chance?” Billy smirked to himself and packed his bag while she dug into a bookcase.

“Hm. Take my copy and we’ll meet Saturday.” She handed him the novel when he looked her up and down. Not once did she try to make a move.

“My house this time. Dad’ll be out with Susan. If you’re not afraid of my side of town.”

“I've seen Hawkins from all angles, babe. I want a tour.” She batted her lashes, craning to get closer to his face.

“You got it,” Billy tore a page from his notebook to scribble his address. “Two o’clock.”

“I’ll be there,” she led him to the door and opened it. “See you at school.” Big eyes with nothing again. Billy lingered to study her face before relenting. He could try the slow approach. Camille waited until he got into his car to shut the door, locking it. Billy watched each light go off within the house until she was upstairs. Licking his lips, he chuckled openly to himself before starting the vehicle to speed home.

Billy gave it his best to skim the damn book that night, debating it before he fell into bed. Flicking the novel open, a single light in his room illuminated the pages while he stretched out atop the covers. Billy ended up reading until his eyes hurt. He fell asleep like that, book pressed open against his chest.

The school bell was more irritating than usual that morning, Camille rubbed her head when a body slipped into the desk behind her. Fingers tugged once at a silken piece of hair and her head whipped, hand smacking at his.

“What?” She hissed through teeth at his grin.

“I skimmed it,” Billy leaned forward so she turned to face the chalkboard.

“What’s the main character’s name?”

“Ah, Fester or something.”

“I’m impressed.” Camille tried not to laugh.

“I got it?”

“No, you’re totally wrong but the thought was there,” she turned to peer over her shoulder, winking. A touch of fire swelled there in the depths. “Keep skimming, Billy.”

“I intend to.” He muttered when she faced the front again. His tone sent her all aflutter. “You’re not taking language classes and I see you with a different language book every time we meet. The hell?”

“Some of us collect hobbies.” Camille shrugged, sorting through her bag for a pencil when the second bell rang. The headache didn’t get better with each passing class. She tried harder to focus and sniffled on blood during chemistry. Billy furrowed his brow and looked up from the worksheet in front of him. He knew he failed that damn quiz. Another thing to please his dear old dad. Partners talked around them, filling in the blanks from textbooks. Without speaking, Camille got up and paced to the front of the class to whisper to their teacher. She left the room and didn’t come back for ten minutes. Billy fiddled with his earring and watched her fidget when she did return.

“Stop staring,” she’d uttered after another five and Billy’s eyes snapped aside.

“Acting weird, queenie.”

“Stupid headache,” she snuck a pill and gulped from a water bottle in her bag. The rest of the day was desperately slow. Camille rolled down the windows of her car and inhaled dry air, heaving a breath before she sped out of the parking lot. Billy watched her go when Max came around on a skateboard.

“Ah, ah...backseat.”

“Another girl.” His stepsister scoffed and Billy was too distracted to get annoyed.

“Hey, Billy. Movie starts at six.” A pretty girl approached so his grin crept wide.

“Tammy,” he cocked his head so she’d get in. “We have time to kill.” Max could only roll her eyes in the backseat.

** ** **

“You mom said you weren’t feeling well, don’t push the exercise tonight,” Noah walked in on his daughter following a peppy dance instructor on TV.

“Just a headache, I’m feeling better.” She lied, smiling as she did so.

“Nosebleeds?”

“No,” came a second. Camille wasn’t sure why. “Hey, I’m going to Billy’s house Saturday, we have this paper we need to do.”

“Billy?”

“New boy, you remember."

"New boy?" The details of her teenage existence always escaped him.

"Strode paired us, I can’t be rid of him.” She turned the TV down and continued stretching, following the movements with ease. Noah took note.

“This a new video?”

“I go through them so quick, I got most of them down without the video,” Camille was too focused.

"See if Edna can find you some more to keep you entertained." He'd offered.

"Sure," she gave a shrug. Always nice to keep busy with them gone. “I won’t be out too late.”

“You know to-”

“Call and check in if it runs later, yes, dad. Promise.” Camille grew amused. “I’ll be here awhile longer. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, honey.”

#billy hargrove #Billy hargrove x oc #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove fanfic #Camille Harper #stranger things fanfiction #Without the Lights #mine #writing #billy x camille #billyhargrove

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tasharii · 6 years

Text

Your Colors: Ch.9.

A/N: Sooo life caught up with me basically. I've got a new full time job in a new state that's taking some getting used to. But I'm not giving up! I love this story and I'm invested and it's killed me to not have time to write. This is my happy place. In order to accommodate and hopefully get a new chapter out every week, or every other week if things don't work out, my chapters are going to get a little shorter. I'm going to try and restrain myself, but still be proud of them.I hope you guys can work with me and stick around. I've got another Bucky story coming up involving ghosts and circuses...... BUT I'm forcing myself to at least finish a rough draft before I start posting it. This is the only story I'm going to allow myself to write on a week by week basis.Thank you guys so much for all the feedback on the last chapter and for giving me so much support. It really means a lot to me and I love hearing everything that you have to say. Enjoy! <3

Summary: Art was the one good thing between college, work, and the grey minutes in-between. Sometimes, it felt like she wasn’t alive at all. Just drifting. When she joined her new art class, she never expected to start experiencing everything in an entirely new light. All thanks to him. Or: Where Bucky Barnes gets more than he bargained from his new drawing partner.

Pairing: Reader x Bucky Barnes

Word Count: 10K

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Language, unrequited love angst

Masterlist

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13

****

Sharp pounding on her door drew her out of a very deep sleep. It dug into her temples and instantly pissed her off. Groggy, Y/N reached out a heavy arm and patted around on her nightstand until she found her phone. The light made her eyes squint, and she brushed her tangled hair back off her face. 10AM. It was 10AM on a Friday morning. Her day off. One of the few days she didn’t have anywhere to be until the afternoon. Just fantastic.

Annoyed, she tossed her phone beside her on the bed and groaned, scrubbing at her face. As if that would make the dust bunnies in her head clear up. Then the banging started up again. Growling, Y/N sat all the way up and kicked at the knotted blankets around her feet. They fell off the bed in a clump, and chills sliced down her spine from the brisk morning air. Pale blue sunlight filtered in from her drawn curtains.

Somehow, she managed to clamber out of bed and shouted, voice rough from sleep, “I’M COMING!” The knocking stopped for a minute, and she yanked at her tank top, straightening it. The air nipped at her toes, and she stumbled over to her bathroom door. Fluffy robe in hand, she loosely tied it on. Covering her bare legs, and underwear. Not a care in the world about how she might look. Just brushed a hand through her hair to get it out of her face and headed to the door.

Flinging it open, Y/N automatically glared at the three men across the threshold in the dimly lit hall, “Can I help you?” She asked, yawning halfway through. Words muffled by the hand over her mouth, she slumped against the door to keep herself standing.

The first guy gave her a very unimpressed once over, and scratched at his balding head, “We’re here to fix a leak.” He drawled. When she continued to stare at him, dumbfounded, he slowly elaborated, “Your landlord said you’ve been complaining about a leak in your kitchen.” Even from where she was, she could smell his abundant amounts of aftershave. See the sweat stains along his shirt. Could even count the little scabs littering his neck from nicking himself shaving. Yet he was looking at her like she was an idiot.

Blearily, Y/N blinked and glanced over at her kitchen in question before it finally dawned on her, “Oh! Ya, there’s this huge stain. Luckily, it just drips into my sink. Not the floor.” She nodded, happy the landlord finally listened after months of complaining, but then frowned, “He didn’t tell me he scheduled anything.” Eyebrows together, she stood up straighter and fidgeted with her pale blue robe, adjusting the belt. The man’s dark eyes were roaming across her just a hair more than she appreciated.

Shrugging, the balding guy, his nametag called him Rick, tilted his head, “Do you want us to fix it or not?” He asked. Behind him, the other two were playing around on their phones. Already checked out for the moment. Lazily, Rick glanced down at his notepad, and tapped at it with a pen.

She pulled her hair over one shoulder and bit her lip, “How long’s it gonna take?” The open doorway let a cool draft that fluttered the edges of her robe around her legs. Goosebumps covered her thighs, and she really wanted to be doing anything else but this.

Yet again, his shoulders bobbed up and then down, “Depends on the damage. Hopefully we’ll get it done today. If not, we’ll come back tomorrow. Got someplace you can go to kill some hours? We’ll be out no later than 7 tonight.” A hint of impatience made his words sharper at the ends. He scribbled something down with his pen, scratching it on the top corner like he was trying to get ink to come out.

Ya, Y/N had somewhere she could go. Just hadn’t planned on actually going today. It took her just a minute to think about it. To hesitate. There was no guarantee that her landlord would follow through with rescheduling. He was flighty like that. And if the leak got worse, she could see him trying to pin it on her. Make her pay for it. Say that it was her fault.

Reluctantly, she stepped back, and waved them in, “Ya, just let me get around. I’ll be out of your way in a bit.” When the door shut behind them, she tried to hide a grimace. Their shoes were muddy, and no one offered to take off their boots. Well, the carpet was already stained to hell. Not like it would be very noticeable. But it was rude.

After showing them the leak, Y/N disappeared into her bathroom for a shower. Took her time, and even blow-dried her hair instead of letting it dry on its own. Dressed and ready for the day, she could hear them banging around in her kitchen. Loudly. She peaked out and saw that they had started digging in the ceiling. Her kitchen had a dropped ceiling with panels. They had at least three panels scattered along her floor. Along with debris and questionable dust.

One of the other guys, David, spotted her over by her bed, and called, “It’s going to take us at least today to fix the pipe. Nothing too bad, but we want to be safe.” He offered her a thin-lipped smile. At least he was trying to be polite. Toolbox in hand, and handing supplies to the other two up on stepstools. Distantly, she wondered why it took three big guys to fix one leak. Rick cursed and yanked a wrench from David’s hand, growling out something she couldn’t hear. Whatever it was, it didn’t make David happy. He rolled his eyes and dropped the toolbox down on her counter, hard. Before she could get too stressed out, she turned away and tried to not think about the mess they were making.

Honestly, Y/N didn’t know a thing about plumbing, or maintenance and she didn’t care. Even if she should. So, she walked away and picked her phone off her nightstand and shot her landlord an email to thank him for finally sending guys over to fix the issue. And to also, subtly, verify that he did indeed send them. That they didn’t just pick an unfortunate mark for a robbery. Even if they had, she didn’t have much they could steal. Just some ridiculously expensive, used, art supplies that probably didn’t have a good resell value.

Legs crossed up on her bed, she felt a shot of pain twinge through her ribs. A quiet, tired sigh left her as she racked a hand through her hair and stared up at her ceiling for a second. Despite feeling better after her shower, Y/N’s stomach twisted as she glanced back down at her phone. Specifically, at her text messages. Bucky had messaged her around 9, before she woke up.

Bucky: Still want me to come over at 1?

No. No she didn’t. At least she had a legitimate excuse as to why he couldn’t come over. Before, she planned to just fake a stomach bug or something equally juvenile. Her thumbs hovered over her keypad, debating on what she should send back. If anything.

Things weren’t ok. Hadn’t been in nearly a week. Since last Sunday, she’d only seen him in class Monday and Thursday.

Monday had been the worst.

Monday, December 3rd

If it hadn’t been for the fact that they were presenting their final watercolor projects, Y/N would have skipped class. She felt sick enough. Dehydrated from crying. Exhausted from a restless night of tossing and turning. Between intermittent bursts of pathetic sobbing. It was obvious that she was nothing more than a reanimated corpse. Shadowed rings under her eyes, ashen skin, and she could barely manage to stand upright. All wrapped up in an oversized cozy hoodie, and unwashed hair scooped up in a tangled knot.

“Y/N?” Ramsey’s voice tickled her ears, and she blinked, looking over at him curiously. Standing only a few students away from her, annoyance radiated from the firm grinding of his jaw. Right along with the way his mouth disappeared in a fine line within the bushy hair of his beard. He raised his equally thick eyebrows at her, pointedly gesturing to the front of the room, “I was asking if you had any thoughts on Mr. Barnes’ work.”

Embarrassed, fiery scarlet crawled across her skin, and she reluctantly looked over at Bucky. Fully acknowledging him for the first time that day. The entire class was gathered, as usual, for a critic. She hovered near the back of the crowd, arms buried in her deep front pocket, barely registering the class at all. Everything was just white noise. Like flickering static on a TV set. And Y/N just floated above it all. A specter to her own life.

Bucky was staring at her, eyes shining with hesitant curiosity. She’d not said anything about his project since he got up there. Hadn’t even reacted. Which was uncharacteristic of their relationship. Even meeting his eyes made her want to cry. Like his mere presence was crippling. It was pathetic. She averted her eyes to the painting instead, taking a step to the side so she could see past an older guy in front of her. Nails digging into her palms to distract her.

The painting was good. Emotionally moving even. It was of a group of men. Soldiers. Walking together towards the viewer. They’re all beat up, and obviously exhausted. The color pallet was limited to brown, green, white and red. The red was used sparingly, careful to not muddy it up with the green and brown. She could just make out Steve and Bucky in the painting. They were the focus, closest to the viewer, and leaning on each other. Bucky’s arm was around Steve’s shoulder, using him as a crutch. The painting was so impressionistic, that Y/N figured most people wouldn’t even recognize Bucky in the work.

Just a group of men, walking into the light with their shadows stretched out behind them. Like they’re heading towards something better. Hoping to leave the worst darkness behind them.

Bucky had vaguely mentioned it was inspired by different events he witnessed during his time at war. Men grateful to finally go home.

Suddenly aware that she’d been silent for too long again, Y/N awkwardly shrugged, “It’s beautiful. Like all of his work.” The words were stilted and cracked somewhere along the way into the air. Chin down, she shuffled her feet. Tried to ignore the eyes on her. Ignore the momentary flash of disappoint across Bucky’s face, before it was buried again. He stared away from her too, at a point on the floor a few feet in front of him. His eyes distant, and expression perfectly chiseled into nonchalance. Like he wasn’t bothered by anything at all. Lately, he hid behind a blank mask. Just shut it all down.

If only she could too.

Ramsey stared at her, surprised, and waited for her to add anything else. It was her most pathetic critic ever, and she was entirely aware. But her head and heart both hurt. And when she accidentally met Bucky’s eyes again, all she could think about was the ache chewing away inside of her.

If it didn’t stop soon, there wouldn’t be anything left inside at all.

Pressing her lips together, Y/N hit call on her phone and held it up to her ear. Her hand was sweaty, and she hugged her free arm around her ribs. Like maybe she could hold back the overwhelming sense of dread if she just squeezed hard enough. There was a string of banging, and clattering to her right just past her dividing bookshelf. Along with deep, monotone strings of buzzing conversation. But she barely heard any of it.

Just let it ring to voicemail. Please don’t pick up. Eyes shut, she bit her bottom lip hard enough to almost drop blood.

It rang three times before Bucky answered, “Hey! I was starting to wonder if you were going to sleep the day away.” He chuckled, the melody to unlock her heart. The smile in his voice made her lips turn up a little, making her teeth release their abusive hold. But hers was a bittersweet sort of smile.

“If only,” She huffed and covered her other ear to block out the noise filling her apartment, “I’ve got some bad news. My landlord schedule maintenance on the leak in my kitchen. Didn’t even tell me. These guys are gonna be here all day, so we can’t meet up.” Her toes curled under her thighs, eyes drifting up towards the ceiling. With every word, she wondered if he could hear the tremor of anxiety in her voice. It was so embarrassingly obvious to her.

Of course, Y/N didn’t mention alternatives. Like the library, or even one of the studio classrooms at Orion. Because she didn’t have the heart to see him. Or the heart to disappoint him by bluntly admitting to being too weak to see him. Neither felt like an option.

Bucky was quiet for a moment, but then he offered, “We can work at my place if you want.” He sounded hesitant, like he couldn’t quite believe what he was saying. The offer made her suck in a surprised breath and sat up straighter.

To be fair, Y/N couldn’t believe it either. She’d never been to his apartment before. Had started to think she never would. Immediately, she had a war going on inside of her. She wanted to but didn’t want to. Was so damn curious about his place, but it hurt to even be around him at this point. Wasn’t sure if she was strong enough to do him the curtsy of keeping her emotions in check. She covered her face with her hand, and curled forward, like she might hide inside of herself. Elbows on her knees, she tried to calm her mind, blocking out the sudden blast of music from someone’s phone in her kitchen. Some obnoxiously loud rock band.

As of late, she felt like a ticking timebomb. One wrong word, or touch, and her façade would rip apart. Sometimes she wanted to scream at him. Other times beg for an explanation, or just cry like a baby. Then, every other minute, she was just numb, but that didn’t make for good company either. All those emotions were just barely held back by her fingers, and she was tired. So tired.

“Are you sure?” Y/N asked softly, standing up and walking over to the window in her bedroom area. Restless. She parted the thick curtains and stared up at the heavy, grey sky, “They’ll be out of here by Sunday, you could just come over then.” If he’d just agree to a reschedule, maybe she could put herself back together by Sunday. Bury it all and be the friend he wanted her to be.

An early Christmas miracle. Afterall, it was December.

Sometimes Y/N wondered, if given the option to go back. All the way back to two months ago. To the moment she asked him to be her partner, what she’d do. Would she still ask him? Honestly, she wasn’t sure anymore. Maybe it would just be easier to have never met James Buchanan Barnes.

“I really don’t mind.” Bucky replied, conviction getting stronger with every syllable, “You need all the practice you can get with acrylic.” He added, and he wasn’t wrong. Y/N fiercely loathed acrylic. It was the next section of their class, now that they were done with watercolor. And it was Bucky’s favorite. Which made his help very valuable.

Biting her bottom lip, she let her forehead rest against the cold window. It was starting to snow. Thick, heavy white drops drifted down from the darkening sky. Pure crystals that blotted out the muddy streets of the city below. Y/N huffed, trying to keep the frustration out of her words, “They want me out of here till 7. I don’t want to get in the way.” She tried. It was the last excuse she could come up with. At least, without making it obvious that she was actively avoiding him.

Another beat of silence passed. Despite the harsh weather outside, throngs of people passed under her window. Finishing their work before the weekend. Rick cursed behind her and yelled at one of the guys to steady the ladder. The sound of Bucky’s voice focused her hazy mind, “I’d really like to see you today.” It was a timid, sweet admission, that made her lungs stumble. He added, “But if you don’t want to, I get it. Really.” Of course he did, because he could read her well enough to understand. Understand that she was practically a raw nerve left out in the winter wind.

Closing her eyes, she swallowed the lump in her throat, “I’ll be over in a bit.” She wanted to see him too. Because the really fucked up part about it all, was that the person who made her feel better also hurt her at the same time. A perfectly figurative double-edged sword.

“See you soon.” Bucky finished before hanging up. For a second, he sounded just as grim as she felt. With just those three words. She pressed her phone to her chest and tried to ignore the bubbling excitement at getting to see him. Because right along beside it, was a flowing tar river of dread and heartbreak. Things weren’t getting any easier like she had hoped they would over time.

Desperately, Y/N wished she could skip the heartbreak part. Skip ahead to the point where she figured out how to be Bucky’s friend. Just his friend. Figured out what was ok to do and say. To a point where she knew what crossed the boundaries he was trying to set. To a place where she wasn’t an emotional ball of knotted string.

Bucky met her at the entry way of his apartment. Soft snow clung to her hair, and she dusted it off her backpack. His footsteps echoed off the walls as he stood up from the stairwell, coming over to meet her at the door. There was a moment where his arms came up, like he was about to hug her, but then he stopped. Let them fall, and gave her a small smile, “Just got to um, get my mail really quick.”

“Ok,” Y/N replied, ignoring the disappointment that he hadn’t hugged her. It shouldn’t be surprising. Since Sunday, he’d avoided most physical contact. Didn’t stand too close to her. Didn’t touch her arm to get her attention anymore. And, of course, hadn’t hugged her since Sunday either.

If it wasn’t for his obvious attempts to spend time with her, and talk, she’d think they’d only just met again.

He turned away from her, and she shuffled away from the door. Out of the way of a couple who were coming in from the weather. A gust of air chased them in and swirls of snow swept across the stained, tiled floor. The lobby was cold, and she rubbed at her gloved fingers. Bucky clicked the lock of his box, just to the left of the door, and she watched him quickly sort through the mail. Up ahead, the staircase started, and beyond that, under the stairwell, was the landlord’s office. As well as the laundry room. The building was old and drafty. Too much brick and not a lot of windows. If she looked up, she could see the twisting of the creaking staircase up all five floors.

The woman snickered as she started up the stairs, and then squealed when her boyfriend yanked at the tail of her scarf and chased after her. Y/N could hear them laughing and the echoing of their footsteps all the way up. Until a door slammed and cut off the carrying sounds of their joy.

Bucky glanced over at her, locking it back, and held up the mail, “Just junk and bills. Shouldn’t have expected much else.” She noticed how tense he seemed. Nervous and tired under the mask of content, casual banter. It showed in the deep circles under his eyes, and the jittery way he moved his hands and held himself too straight. Not too long ago, she’d concluded that Bucky didn’t sleep much. Somehow, it seemed he was sleeping even less.

“No one writes letters anymore.” Y/N mused, trying to mimic his casual pointless chatting. She could do this, “It’s a shame.” Hands tucked in her pockets, she shrugged, and took a step closer to the stairs. Part of her was excited to see the inside of his apartment, but she had no idea how she was going to survive 7 hours of this. Pretending everything was ok.

“Damn right it is.” Bucky snorted, waving for her to follow him to the staircase. Didn’t have an elevator, so she enjoyed a three story climb up the echoing, wooden and iron stairway.

By the time they reached the third floor, Y/N was winded. Bucky hadn’t even broken a sweat. He grinned cheekily at her over his shoulder, “When it gets warmer, you should come on jogs with me.” He pulled his keys from his pants pocket and shuffled through the ring with his free hand. Distractedly glancing between the keys and her as he stopped in front of a dark wooden door. His gloved hand tapped his mail against his thigh, impatient, or just nervous.

Unimpressed, she rolled her eyes, leaning against the pale green wall next to his door, “What? You gonna drive all the way to my apartment, and drag me to Central Park?” It would take him 30 minutes alone to just drive there.

Bucky’s smile didn’t fade as he unlocked his apartment door, “Maybe. Don’t tempt me.” He swung the door open and held it for her to come inside. When she stepped past him, she made sure to keep her arms close to herself. To keep from accidentally touching him.

His apartment wasn’t what she thought it would look like, but it suited him. It was about the same size as her studio apartment but broken up with walls. From the doorway, she stood in the small pathway between the living room and kitchen. The back of a couch to her right, and a counter to her left. The living room doubled as a studio. A couch, two black beanbags, and TV stand took up half the room closest to the door. To her left stood the small kitchenette, no bigger than her own, sectioned off with a counter. A hallway opened past the kitchen, disappearing around the bend. Likely leading to the bedroom and bathroom.

Bucky was watching her observing everything. Hands propping him up against the back of the couch. Mail and glove discarded on the kitchen counter. In a soft blue sweater, and dark jeans with paint stains he was the epitome of a dreamy artist. Eyes bright against the color of the shirt, and dark strands framing his face. Dried green paint clung to his fingertips, even speckling the silver of his left hand.

After taking off her soggy boots next to his at the door, Y/N dropped her bag next to the armrest of the couch. Bypassing it to cross the far side of the room. Next to the only window in the room, stood a wide wooden desk. A tall silver lamp and bookshelf beside it. The bookshelf was overflowing, and scraps of paper littered every available space. Sketchbooks were stacked haphazardly against the wall on the floor, most too big to fit into a drawer. Drawings and notes covered every spare inch of the cream-colored wall around the window.

Quietly, she studied every drawing she could. Some she recognized. The bakery where he worked, half sketches of the street view from his apartment, Steve, animals, scenery from the park, a girl she suspected was his sister from the dimple on her chin, and even a few of herself. And more. So many more.

Distracted, she unzipped her coat, slipping it off and holding it against her chest. After a minute, Bucky cleared his throat and she jerked, he was right behind her, “These are just some I’m proud of, or ideas I haven’t finished.” He explained, standing to her right. The grey light from the window made his eyes shine molten silver, “I was thinking, maybe would watch a movie while we work?” He lifted his dark eyebrows, gaze darting over her features, and rubbed the back of his neck.

Already feeling her nerves getting the best of her, Y/N nodded and made her way back to her bag. Just wanting to keep her hands busy, she tugged out her art supplies, “Sure, what you got in mind?” First her 9x12 Bristol sketchbook, then travel set of paints, pencils, bag of brushes and eraser. She sat on the couch, flipping to the page she’d already been working on. A drawing of the Brooklyn bridge.

Bucky’s lips flickered like he wanted to smile, but didn’t quite manage it, “I was thinking a Marvel marathon?” He grabbed his own sketchpad off his desk, and two cups for rinse water. He tucked a clean paintbrush behind his ear, his sketchpad under his arm, the cups stacked in his one hand, and a few other brushes in his other. Tubes of paint were already scattered on the coffee table, along with a pallet stained with green paint.

Pencil in hand, Y/N snorted, “Don’t know if we’ve got that kinda time, but sure. I haven’t seen Captain America in a while.”

They worked without talking too much until close to 6. Only stopping to pop a frozen pizza in the oven and eat sometime around 2. Bucky on one of the bean bag chairs closer to the left side of the TV. She ended up on the floor, back against the couch, so she could spread out her paints. The hardwood floor underneath her made her butt numb, but she didn’t have to worry about being too messy. It’d clean up easier here than her carpet. Which had plenty of paint stains she’d have to pay for when she moved out.

It wasn’t as unbearable as Y/N expected it to be, but every so often she still felt a knife twist around inside her. With a constant weight on her body, pressing her down like a shadowy shroud, every action was strained. She was attempting to paint a robin on a branch. Had given up on her bridge an hour ago. Was about to give up on the bird too. The feathers were getting clumped together, and kind of starting to look like a mutant falcon of some sort. Her fine pencil lines lost in her clumsy use of a paintbrush.

“I really liked your watercolor piece.” Bucky stated, pretty much out of the blue. Y/N paused and peeked up at him for the first time in a few hours. She’d made it a point to stare at her horrible painting the entire time, and even when she needed help, she didn’t ask for it. Because she didn’t want him to be as close to her as he would need to be to help save her painting.

It took her a second to pull her mind away from her work and focus in on him and his words. Her paintbrush stilled, and she lifted it up, holding the top edges of her sketchbook. Slowly, she stretched out her legs, flexing her ankles to regain feeling in her feet. The sketchbook came to rest flat on her thighs, and she frowned. Oh ya, her painting from Monday, “Thank you.” That was all she had to say to him Monday, and that was all she could think to say to him now.

Monday, December 3

Ramsey, spurred on by spiteful annoyance at her lack of response to Bucky’s painting, made her go next. Y/N didn’t want anyone to look at her, or her work. Didn’t want to have to try and explain why she did what she did. The heart behind her painting wasn’t there anymore.

“I um love Greek mythology,” Y/N started, words immediately failing her. Flying out of her mind like wisps of smoke, “So I chose to use Aphrodite, goddess of love, as my focus. White doves are symbolic to her.” She stopped, arms crossed and leaned back against the white board. Already finished.

Everyone stared at her, waiting for her to continue, but when her silence stretched on, they finally focused on her artwork. It felt like needles were pricking at her skin. Too hot all over, and mouth dry as the summer sun.

The painting had been one of her favorites. A beautiful woman with a flowing dress, arms back holding up the tail end of it like a cape. Serene while she glided forward across the canvas. Then two doves flew right in front of her, together like they’d come directly from her heart. The ends of the dress melted down into a stream of colors and brush strokes near the bottom. Shifting into a galaxy. The doves were mostly white and surrounded by darker colors to help contrast them out.

When she’d painted it, Y/N had been thinking about love. Not just Bucky. Love in general and how scared she was to fall in love. How fickle Greek gods were, just like emotions, and prone to mistakes in many of the stories. Love and gods were both tricky things. It was fueled with so many of her emotions, all poured out onto a page.

But now, she didn’t feel anything like before. Nothing but achy longing.

“I was just wondering if I could buy it from you. After the show.” Bucky’s voice broke through her thoughts, and she met his eyes, surprised. His sketchbook was propped against his knees, a pallet of paints on the floor to his right. Brush in the cup of water, he swirled it around and wiped it clean on a stray paper towel in a practiced motion. Not even looking down when he did it. Just studying her.

“Buy it?” Y/N asked, eyebrows pinched in confusion, “Why would you want to buy it?” Iron Man played in the background, the sound of him working on his first finished suit filled up the apartment. She set aside her bird, a lost cause, to dry. Despite the paintings being awful, she’d have to turn them in Monday. Maybe after it dried, she could clean it up some.

Bucky’s mouth curved into a teasing smile, setting aside his brush, “Cause it’s awesome? And I want to hang it up?” He asked slowly in return, like he was spelling it out to a child. Elbows propped on his knees, he pushed aside his own sketchbook. From where she sat, it looked like he was painting one of his original sketches of her. From her apartment. One of the poses where she sat in her recliner, reading.

Once again, he made her beautiful. Y/N could tell that much, even from where she sat.

Blinking, she shook her head, a bit reluctant to the idea of him paying her. Especially for that piece. Which had revolved around him so tightly. Tense, she sat up straighter and rinsed out her brush. The water was just a tint away from scarlet now, “Mn I guess so, but you don’t have to buy it. You can just have it.” Water dripped dark splotches from the brush onto her jeans before she wrapped it in a stained paper towel and dried it off. Dried paint coated under her nails, and fingertips. Coating them crimson.

Immediately, Bucky scowled at her, “No, I’m going to pay you for it. I personally know how many hours you spent on that. I’m not just going to take it from you.” He gestured with his hands as he spoke, sweater rolled up to his elbows, and scratched at his jaw. There was a smudge of paint across his scruffy cheek.

Flustered, Y/N stood up with her pallet of colors and cup of dirty water. Stepping around the couch, her socked feet slid just a bit against the smooth floor, “I don’t really know what to price it at.” She stopped at his sink, picking up a few dirty breakfast dishes, and setting them out of the way. Then she started rinsing off her supplies. Water cold against her skin, but slowly warming as it ran. Soft scarlet, black, white, and green paint swirled against the silver sink, and away with the water. Fingers against the pallet she scrubbed the dried paint off, and then picked as much of the paint out from under her nails as she could.

She figured once she was cleaned up, it’d be close enough to 7 to justify her leaving. AKA bolting. Bucky followed after her with his own dirty pallet and water, “I was thinking about 100. Maybe more depending on what you’re offered at the art show.”

Sputtering, she sat aside her pallet to dry and finally meet his eyes. He was suddenly close, and she had to take a calming breath. Or else her heart might stop beating, “That’s a little much don’t you think?” He was standing at her left and tilted the faucet towards himself, so he could rinse his own materials. Arm brushing hers, she got to feel that his sweater was softer than it looked.

Bucky shook his head, and she stepped aside so he could better use the sink, “No, I bet if you price it at 100 someone will buy it.” She wiped her damp hands on a brown kitchen towel.

“Someone crazy.” Y/N grumbled, but then shrugged, “I’ll make sure Ramsey puts a ‘sold’ sticker on it for you. You don’t have to pay me till you get it, though.” There wasn’t any good reason to justify her not letting him have it. If she was being honest, she didn’t really want to keep it. It just reminded her of dark thoughts that she didn’t need to dwell on.

Bucky nodded, and glanced up. It looked like he was about to say something else, but then he frowned, “It’s really coming down out there.” His eyes were over her shoulder, focused on something across the room. Hands dripping water, he turned off the faucet and placed his supplies next to her own and dried his hands on his jeans.

Y/N turned, following his line of sight towards the window. Her heart dropped into a pit, and she quickly paced around the counter, bundling her cold fingers against the hem of her shirt. Crossing the living room, she peered out the window over his desk. It was a blanket of white outside. No cars passed through the road, and the ones parked along the side were nothing more than little white hills. Barley distinguishable. Part of her, the artistic part, wanted to draw it. Try to capture the shining white crystals contrasted with the stark grey of the buildings. Splashes of cover peeking out, about to disappear under a blanket of freshly falling snow. But that part of her was background noise to the roaring anxiety that made her grit of teeth.

“Shit.” She groaned, racking a hand through her hair. Hadn’t even noticed that it was snowing so hard because she was too busy not looking anywhere but at her artwork. It was quiet too. That sort of peaceful silence that came from the snow dulling out noises.

Back over at the couch, she picked her phone off the cushion and sat down to investigate. Darcy had messaged her, sending a selfie of her snuggled up with a cup of something steaming, and the caption ‘Snow days rock!’. A little later after that, Peter had let her know that he was super bummed because Mr. Stark made him leave work early.

Her weather app had issued a ‘winter weather warning’. High freezing winds, lots of snow, and lots of ice. Y/N carefully shut her sketchbook, the paint barely dry but she didn’t have the time too care. Then began gathering up her stuff, “I better get going. Before the roads get any worse.” Before she got stuck there. Hastily, she unzipped her bag and stuffed everything back inside. Then hurried to the kitchen, snatching her damp pallet off the counter.

Bucky stood by the window, watching it come down, and turned back to look at her, perplexed, “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.” His arms were crossed, fists fight against his shirt. Lips in a fine line, he kept glancing between her and outside.

Y/N snorted a very thin, awkward laugh, putting her tubes of paint in her bag, “What’s the alternative? Stay here?” Her heart skipped at the thought. It was ridiculous. No, she couldn’t do that. For her sake and his, it would be better if she went home.

“Well ya, I mean, you could.” Bucky shrugged, taking a couple steps away from the window. Arms still crossed, and shoulders tense near his ears. It was obvious he didn’t seem to like the idea either, and that only made her feel worse. Guilty, and uncomfortable.

She shook her head, “No, I can get a cab. They drive in all kinds of weather.” The weather app had said to stay off the roads and inside if at all possible. It was getting dark. Earlier than normal due to the heavy clouds blotting out the sun. But Y/N couldn’t imagine staying the night after this week.

Maybe last week it would have been a fantasy come true. Like in some stupid romcom, but now? After Sunday? It was a fully-grown monster of an awkward, awful idea. Complete with horns and a snake tongue.

At the door, she slipped on her shoes and zipped up her coat. Bucky grabbed her arm just as she was reaching for the doorknob, “Stay.” He stated, quietly, but seriously.

She glanced up at him, swallowing the lump in her throat the formed from being able to smell his cologne, “I can’t.” Y/N was surprised at how vulnerable her voice was. She hadn’t meant to sound like that. It was supposed to be stronger than that. More resolute. Jerking, she pulled her arm from his grip and shook her head again when he opened his mouth to argue. Hand on the doorknob, she opened the door and stepped into the hall. It was even colder now, and the dim lights overhead flickered, buzzing. Even colder without Bucky’s hand on her arm.

Only just making it to the stairs, Bucky caught the strap of her backpack. Y/N whirled around on him, “I can’t stay here.” She repeated, managing to be just a bit firmer this time. Not even flinching, he took another step closer to her. Her hands trembled slightly as anxiety started to pour into her veins, clawing at her head.

Cautiously, Bucky guided her heavy bag down. Taking it off her, and she found herself letting him. The way he stared unwaveringly at her, as if seeing the dark tidepool of emotions behind her eyes, made her face grow hot with bit back tears. He shouldered it, and placed a hand on her arm, “You can.” He took a breath, closing his eyes as if to gather his thoughts then continued, “I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you out there.” Bucky squeezed her arm and then stepped away, giving her space back.

“But it’s,” Y/N’s breath hitched, panic making her stomach feel sick. The cold bit at her fingertips and her hands balled into fists. Nervously shaking her head, she tried to swallow all the wrong words and find the right ones to explain herself, “It’ll be so awkward after—”

“It’ll be ok.” Bucky assured, giving a light smile. It reached his eyes, making them shine with tender light, “We’ll just watch movies and have fun. I’ll even make you dinner.” Slowly, he took another step back, edging closer to his apartment door. A hopeful expression making his handsome face soft, and sweet.

It didn’t take much for her resolve to crack. Too exhausted and strung out to even put up a real fight. She let out a shuddering breath that she hadn’t realized she was holding in, “I can take the couch then.” With that, Y/N stepped past him and retreated into his apartment. Taking off her boots again, she cursed the weather. Cursed winter. Cursed her landlord. Cursed everything that led her into this position.

Bucky shook his head, going back into the kitchen. Her bag made a solid thunk against the countertop when he plopped it down, “No way, you can take my bed. It’s fine.” She wanted to argue some more but then he was opening the fridge, changing the subject, “I was thinking tacos?” Bucky offered, and she unzipped her coat, throwing it over the back of the couch.

Leaning against the counter, she watched him pull out a thawed pound of hamburger. Then shrugged, “Works for me. Guess this means you’re finally going to cook for me.” She couldn’t help the small upturn of her lips. Every time they were at her house, they usually ordered takeout. There were a few rare times where she made easy stuff. Like hamburgers, mac-n-cheese, or stir-fry. But not all that often. Whenever they first started working together, Bucky never stayed long enough to need food. Once they did start eating together, Y/N didn’t feel like she had enough skill to even try and fix anything for him. It was only recently that she got comfortable enough to try.

“You are a guest, and it is dinner time.” Bucky waved a spatula at her, flicking on his stove. A light blue flame burst to life under the burner. Once the hamburger was in the pan, he used his spatula to divide it into chunks, starting to cook it.

“Anything you want me to do?” She asked, and Bucky shook his head.

“Nah, why don’t you go finish the movie? I’ve got it.” He waved his free hand towards the living room. Then he rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, rummaging through some of his cupboards near the stove.

Nodding, Y/N left him in peace. Somewhat relieved that she didn’t have to try and carry conversation. It was getting easier to ignore. The awkwardness fading back just a bit, but it still couldn’t be considered comfortable.

After dinner, which was delicious, Bucky disappeared with their plates. Y/N relaxed down into the couch, pleasantly full, and continued watching the Incredible Hulk. Since she was staying the night, they might actually make a dent in the Marvel franchise.

Bucky returned with a bottle of scotch and two glasses with ice. He set them down on the table in front of her and she eyed him, eyebrows raised in a silent question. He snorted, lifting the amber and black bottle closer for her to see, “Just thought you might want a drink.”

“Are you trying to get me drunk?” She asked skeptically but didn’t deny it. She wasn’t much of an alcohol person, even less of a scotch person, but a buzz did sound tempting. Y/N was a happy drunk. The giggly kind, and she liked how it made her feel. As long as she didn’t get too sad. If she got too emotional, then it didn’t go well.

Bucky poured himself a glass, and tipped the bottle towards her own, waiting for the go ahead. Huffing a sigh, she waved her hand towards him. He smirked and filled up her glass, “I don’t want you to get drunk. We’ve just never drank together. Thought it might be fun. A buzz and Marvel movies could be a good mix.” Then he screwed the lid shut and sat the bottle on the table, taking up his drink. Fluidly, Bucky moved back over to his seat on the beanbag, dropping down heavily. Not spilling a single drop.

She picked up her glass, stirring the ice with her finger to try and thin out some of the scotch, “Never been to your apartment either.” She quietly mused, crossing her legs up under her thighs. His apartment ran warmer than her own, but her feet were chilly even in her socks.

“Guess tonight’s just full of firsts.” Bucky agreed, sipping on his drink. They were sitting further apart tonight. Further apart than they had in a while. It made her heart heavy, so she took a drink as well. Bucky didn’t even flinch, and she full on grimaced.

“God it’s awful.” She laughed, shaking her head, lips smacking to chase the flavor away. It made her tongue feel dry and bitter.

Chuckling he took another drink and hummed, “It’s an acquired taste.” His eyes danced with mirth in the dim lighting of the living room, a smirk made his mouth tilt in a sinfully charming sort of way. She had to look away, back down to the melting ice in her glass.

“I think you mean that you drink enough until your tongue goes numb and then it’s not so bad.” Y/N translated, taking another mouthful, and flinching again. It burned all the way down to her stomach. Nose wrinkled, she blinked as her eyes began to water, but she tried to school her expression. Not liking that she could hear Bucky trying to stifle his laughter.

“Try not to let it hit your tongue so much. Come on, haven’t you taken shots before?” Bucky teased, eyes flickering from the TV back over to her. The light made his jaw sharper and caught streaks of his hair, making them almost blue. From her position on the couch, she could still see snow coming down through the window across the room. It glowed like fluttering glitter past the streetlamps. Not slowing at all.

She nodded, focusing back on Bucky, “Ya, some but I always had a chaser.” Her skin was already feeling honey glow warm. A little tingly. It was good scotch. Bucky hummed, the sound of the movie filled up the empty space between them. At least, it was empty if you ignored all the things left unsaid.

Over the next hour, Y/N finished her first glass, and poured herself another. Right alongside Bucky, who refilled his glass a few minutes before her. By then, she could tell she was tipsy. Giggling at some of the terrible humor in the movie, and really at anything at all. Until she found herself watching Bucky more than the movie. If he noticed, he didn’t say so.

By the time her body started to feel flickering warm all over, Y/N didn’t have a clue what was happening in the movie anymore. It was nearing the end, and the apartment was faintly lit from the kitchen. Mostly flooded with the light from the TV. It reminded her of their situation a week before, but she didn’t want to think about that. In fact, she wanted to focus on another problem at hand.

Standing up, Y/N felt her head swim just a bit, but she managed to walk perfectly fine. She wasn’t that far gone. Just the kind of buzz that gave a false sense of bravery, and horrible impulse control. Right then, she couldn’t understand why they were sitting so far apart. So, she closed the few short steps between them and plunked herself down on the second beanbag chair next to Bucky’s. His eyes widened, and he stared at her, snorting a laugh when she grinned cheekily at him. Then she wiggled in the seat until she was comfortable and leaned over to let her head rest on his right shoulder. All without saying a single word and took another sip of her half full drink. It didn’t taste bad anymore.

A few beats of silence passed, and she tried to focus back in on the movie, rather than the obvious fluttering of her heart. From her position, she could feel the strong muscle resting just under the sweater. Bucky finally shook his head in disbelief, the beads rustled as he relaxed back into his own chair, and asked, “Comfy?”

Y/N hummed and nodded, nuzzling against his arm because god he smelt good. And damn if he wasn’t cozy and perfect. Her hand curled loosely against his sweater, thumb rubbing the soft material. Knees up on the beanbag, and her body contorted into a small ball.

When she didn’t offer a verbal reply, Bucky didn’t push. Instead, he shifted his arm until it was wrapped around her shoulders, forcing her closer. Head on his chest, Y/N laughed again at the awkward adjusting she had to do to get comfortable again. Shift till she was halfway on his beanbag and hers. Legs stretched out further to balance, and her hand holding her glass rested up on his waist, other tucked underneath her to stay propped up. His arm around her shoulders, and other hand still holding his own scotch on his thigh. But then everything was flawless. And she didn’t want to ever have to move again.

“Why don’t we do this all the time?” Y/N asked playfully, fingers rubbing nonsensical circles against her glass. She could feel every breath he took, and faintly hear the beat of his heart under her ear. He was so warm and strong underneath her. It was comforting. The credits of the movie were starting to play, and she loathed the thought of one of them getting up to put in another.

Bucky tensed, but didn’t move. He rubbed his thumb against her bare arm. Sometimes it felt like everything he did was the most natural thing in the world to do. Like their relationship had reached a point where it should have been as easy as breathing. If he would just let it. Then he shrugged, the motion jostled her just a little, “I guess cause it’s not really what friends are supposed to do.” Words mumbled and stilted. Awkward. He wouldn’t look at her when he said that, just stared down at the cup in his hand. Metal contrasting against fragile glass. Both glinting in the harsh light from the TV.

Before he could pull back, she caught his wrist and sat up to meet his eyes. Her hand kept his arm around her shoulders, and she only adjusted herself just enough to look at him properly. Their faces were dangerously close, but she barely noticed, “But we do it, and we’re friends, so it can’t be too bad.” Her voice was soft, insistent. Eyes betraying the sadness welling up deep inside of her. It felt like the burning in her stomach was heading up into her throat. His skin was smooth against her fingers, and his arm was a reassuring weight over her shoulders. Bucky made her feel safe. Even when he was breaking her heart.

Bucky whispered her name like she was squeezing the life from his chest and sighed harshly. His eyes darted away from her own, lips pressed into a fine line, “Ya but it’s wrong, and makes things complicated.” He closed his eyes and tapped his finger against his glass, the sound sharp over the TV. She could already see his walls closing, shutting her out again.

“It doesn’t have to.” Y/N shook her head, clasping his hand tighter to try and keep his attention. His callused fingers were rough against her own, and she could see his chest rising and falling faster. Like he was trying to keep himself calm. Still, she pushed, “If it makes you happy, and me happy, and doesn’t hurt anyone, then why is it so wrong?” She spoke quickly, and her voice was starting to slur just a tad. Like her mouth was running faster than her head. The hand holding her drink gripped it tighter. Condensation making her fingers slick. Head tilted, she tried to make him look at her. Suddenly desperate to make him understand.

At that, Bucky did tug away. Stood up and moved a few steps over to the other side of the coffee table. He picked up the bottle of scotch and refilled his drink. Again. His hands were shaking just a tad, and he slowly put the lid back on and sat the bottle down. Then he waved his glass in the air as he tried to explain, nearly sloshing it over the edge, “Because it can’t happen. And that—” He jabbed a finger at the beanbag chair he just vacated, like it was an example, “Will lead to things happening, and nothing can happen between us.” He pointed between the two of them, face flushed, and took another drink. Eyes sharp and glistening, his hair fell across his forehead as he swallowed. Then he carded his fingers roughly through his hair, pushing it out of his eyes. He sounded so sure. So stubborn and it just pissed her off.

“Does this make you happy?” Y/N stressed, gesturing between them. She stood up too, stumbling a little when her feet caught on air. Still, she steadied herself, head high, and finished her drink. When he didn’t respond, she sat her empty glass down on the coffee table a bit harder than necessary. It echoed over the music filling up the room with background noise. When had they started arguing?

Frustrated, Bucky groaned and turned so he wasn’t facing her. He shifted his glass to his right hand, knuckles white. Delaying time, he swallowed another mouthful, quiet. His shoulders were tight, the muscles rolling as he clenched his fist. When he glanced back at her, his face was blank again.

Seeing his emotional barricades up again made irritation burn the back of her throat like hot coals.

A whine caught in her chest, and she shut her eyes tight. The anger melted into something darker. Something harder to swallow that had her arms wrapping around herself, and made her shift awkwardly from foot to foot, “Don’t I?” Her tone dropped at his silence, vulnerable and nearly drowned out by the end credits music. Hurt at him shutting down again. Shutting her out again, “Make you happy?” Y/N clarified. Emotions switching on a dime as she stared at his broad back.

The TV cut out to the title page, and he turned, snatching the remote off the table and flicked it off. Then tossed it back onto the table, only for it to clash and skitter off the edge onto the floor. Shadows clung to the room, only pushed back by the small light from the kitchen and window behind her. Then silence pressed in on the room and highlighted all the words not being spoken. Ears ringing in the sudden quiet, Y/N tried to keep her breathing even and to stay quiet. Let him boil in whatever emotions were making him pace between the couch and wall.

In the cluttered space of his apartment, she felt small because he took up so much of it. When he got like this, she could see the soldier. Could see everything he tried to keep in control burning just beneath the surface. All the things he tried to never say. The panels of his left hand hummed and shifted, flexing into a fist and relaxing again when he finally stood still.

Bucky’s jaw clenched, and he brought up his hand to rub at his face, messing up his hair. When he glanced back at her, he grimaced, and exclaimed, “Of course you do!” His eyes were shining bright in the dark, glimmering with bit back pain. Eyebrows pinched and jaw tight, like he was fighting to keep everything in check. Even every perfectly measured breath he took.

“Just not enough?” Y/N asked, still soft and stepped closer. She reached down for the bottle, eyes never falling from his cooled expression, body swaying in a fluid motion as she stood back up. Bucky silently watched her as she unscrewed the top and watched him. Forgoing a glass, she took a drink from it. The edges of the cap bit at her fingers. Desperate to feel anything but what she was feeling right then. Maybe it’d numb her the rest of the way out. Make her pass out, or black out to a point where things just didn’t hurt anymore. With the way things were going it might be nice.

It’d be a blessing. Even for a minute.

“It’s not like that.” Bucky denied, words cracking in his throat at the end. Y/N edged just a bit closer, until they were chest to chest. The bottle brushed against his thigh where she let it swing at her side. She had to stare up to meet his eyes. He finished the last drink from his glass, then stooped to sit his down too. Every movement tickled the air around him and made her skin tingle from how close they were. His shoulder brushed her hip when he straightened back up. Then his hand cupped over her own and he took the bottle from her loose fingers. Forging his glass as well. His touch still burned. He didn’t offer to clarify what he meant. That it ‘wasn’t like that’ didn’t explain much of anything.

Instead of rounding another pointless circle with him, Y/N asked, “Why do you want my painting?” She crossed her empty arms, rocking back on her heels, but not moving from her stubborn position in front of him. Not yielding again. The scotch made her stupid brave, and she was cracking up. The façade she tried to keep up falling apart piece by piece. Part of her understood that this conversation would lead to nowhere good.

That she was tearing everything apart. Messing everything up. Spilling all their rotting issues out between them. Ripping up her heart for him to see as she desperately tried to understand his. But she couldn’t bring herself to shut up again. Too angry and hurt and frustrated and tired.

This had been a bad idea from the start. She should have just stayed in bed this morning.

That jarred him a bit. Bucky snorted incredulously, “Because it’s beautiful, and I love your work.” His full lips wrapped around the bottle and he took a swig. Rubbing at his mouth with the back of his hand, he let out a slow breath. Disheveled, he dropped the bottle back on the table, almost spilling it. The cap still bit at her thumb where she pressed at it. Flipped it around between her fingers. Something to fidget with.

“Do you know why I painted it?” Y/N continued, licking her lips, mouth full of cotton. She rocked back forward, nearly toppling into him, but he caught her shoulders. Steadying her and almost smiling, but it died before it could reach his eyes. Her hands came up to balance herself and she dropped the cap to the floor. It clattered, but neither of them bothered to try and pick it up, “Why I picked the subject?” Her fingers curled against his chest, enjoying the touch and slow to pull back.

Bucky shrugged, shaking his head, hands running down her arms to her elbows before he released her, “You were pretty cryptic about it in class.” He took a half step back, but she caught the hem of his shirt, and stubbornly held onto it. Stopping, he glanced down at her hand, but didn’t force her to let go.

Willing her fuzzy mind to focus, she explained, “It’s about love.” She pressed a free hand to her chest, hysterical laughter bubbling from her as she continued, “It’s basically my heart poured on a canvas.” Y/N tugged at his sweater, voice cracking at the end. Jaw clenched like she could keep her words from shaking, she stepped forward challengingly, “Still want it?” Her bottom lip trembled, but she kept her head high and proud.

Bucky’s voice dropped and sounded rough like gravel when he replied, “Of course.” His eyes held her own, and she ground her teeth, exasperated. Nearly stepped on his toes when she let go of his shirt and threw up her hands, catching her fingers in her hair, yanking roughly.

“I was thinking about you.” Y/N whispered, flinging her hand in his direction, nearly hitting him, “Not just you, but enough. Doesn’t that bother you?” Bucky was quiet, so she continued, shaking her head as the words tumbled out, “It’s about how scared I am. To care about you this much. About how messed up these feelings are, and how happy I was.” The tears were coming now. All the ones she never wanted him to see. They caught in a knot in her throat, making her words thick. Her cheeks were wet, and she didn’t know when she started crying, “And I couldn’t explain it in class because I don’t feel that way anymore. It just hurts.” Her hand curled in the front of her shirt and she clawed at it, like maybe she could just dig out her beating heart and give that to him too, “I’m sorry. It’s not your fault, but I don’t know what to—”

The words were stolen from her lips. Immediately forgotten. Taken the moment she felt his breath against her mouth, and then nothing but soft warmth. His hands caught her wrists from where she’d been wildly gesturing, and he stilled her. Cold metal and warmth contrasting against her skin. He tugged her forward, arms caught between their chests, and his hair tickled her cheek when he stooped down. So much taller than her that he had to duck his head.

Bucky was kissing her.

Y/N’s eyes fell closed, and her lips parted against his. Everything floated still around her. His hand released her wrist, and cold metal cupped her cheek. Confused, she pushed her hands against his chest, pulling back just an inch, “Why? What—” Then he tilted his head and kissed her again. His teeth nipped her bottom lip and he crowded against her. A soft groan caught in her throat, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, stretching up on her tiptoes to be closer. Questions buzzed through her head, but her world was spinning too fast. Everything suddenly felt warm and happy with him anchoring her to the apartment floor. In that moment, she couldn’t imagine to trying to ask him again. Not while he was finally kissing her.

Bucky shuddered when her tongue brushed his top lip, and his fingers curled gently in her hair. Leaving her no room to move away again. For just a second, he broke the kiss, and let his hands rest against her shoulders, thumbs brushing across her neck. He kissed her forehead, and then her cheek, tongue lightly brushing against the tears still damp on her skin. A soft bubbling giggle left her. Relief mixed with euphoria and disbelief left her insides sparkling like liquid gold.

Nearly floating, Y/N fisted her hands in the back of his shirt against his shoulders. Then took a step back, making him follow her. Still bent over but his hands came to rest against her hips. A tender smile spread across Bucky’s lips while a grin made her beam back at him. Every step she took he matched. Never more than an inch apart. A breath of laughter escaped him when she stumbled, nearly taking him down with her.

When she sat on the couch, he pressed her back until he was hovering over her and kissed her again. It’d been a long while since she had a make-out session like a desperate teenager, but everything fell into place with him. It wasn’t hard to remember why she loved kissing.

Not when she was kissing Bucky.

Next Chapter

Tags: @boy-leave @wtfholland

#Bucky Barnes #james bucky barnes #marvel #Marvel AU #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #reader insert #artist au #slow burn #Fluff and angst #fluff and feels #tashariiwriting

41 notes · View notes

atrabiliousse · 6 years

Note

ooh may i request onyx and dino? thank you!

my angel, it only took me a whole new year to do this and i am so so so incredibly sorry!! but i really hope it was at least worth the wait! 💘

Onyx with Dino

Your fine line between your emotions had always been somewhat of an illusion. You were a fierce magician in that you made the solid yet fiber thin line disappear more often than not, but it was never anything to be proud of.

In retrospect, you blamed it on your undeveloped knowledge on emotions and their delivery. Even as a child, you struggled to convey what you felt, your parents always retelling stories of memories in which you should’ve cried, moments of sadness or hurt in which you displayed no feeling. It had worried them for a while, but it had come to be revealed that there wasn’t anything wrong with you, you were just rather…delayed.

Almost as if a chronic case of post-traumatic stress reoccurred in you with every shocking event to appear in your life, it took you maybe days or weeks to process the stirring of unknown discomfort in your chest, when finally your breakdown would come with the simplest prick of every day’s needles.

So it came as no surprise that you processed all of your feelings towards a certain Lee Chan in the exact opposition to your thumping heartbeat and bright red cheeks.

Bright red cheeks he always took as a sign of your frustration and anger, much to his liking.

Chan took special pleasure in teasing you, if only to see your eyes narrow behind your hair and the puffed out reddened cheeks as you told him off. He never took it too far, always just a small comment and an accompanying cheeky smile until you either turned away from him or walked off, not sparing him any more of your time.

His harmless fun served as a great mask of camouflage for the light in his eyes when he saw you laughing with your friends or fumbling with your things as you rushed into the lecture hall late, tired eyes unfocused and frustrated.

You were disarrayed, brash and much too complicated but every time the boy tried to use these points as reason not to, they served as magnets. Certainly a peculiar ideal type, but his every growing interest had proved to Chan that types were merely little white lies people told themselves to try to contain their hearts to their eye’s liking.

It certainly didn’t take long for him to realize that he much enjoyed seeing through his heart than his eyes.

You however, had a much more debatable time with your encounters. Every time Chan opened his mouth to say something to you, you’d already be on defense, ready to bite his head off no matter what came out, and even on the day he only but complimented your jacket, you couldn’t think of any other way but to respond but in your previous habits of snapping.

“You’re worse than a preschool boy pulling the pigtails of the little girl he likes. Just maybe have a decent conversation with him.” Your friend rolled her eyes, fork digging in viciously into her salad, eyes lazy as they watched you.

“Shut up, it’s not my fault that’s he’s an asshole.”

She let out an obnoxious laugh, her mirth filled eyes telling you that she wasn’t having any of your crap, “He’s the asshole? Sweetie, he told you that your bag was unzipped and you told him that you hope his dick gets caught in his zipper.”

Rolling your eyes, you unscrewed the cap on your water bottle, eyes sweeping over the grassy area, three to four picnic tables scattered for sunny days such as the one you found yourself breathing in. He usually sat outside with his large group of friends, but instead he’d be sat against the old Magnolia tree. He’d have his bright eyes drinking in the antics of the group around him, lips pulled constantly to a smile and then excited babble falling from his lips as he’d push his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

Glasses he wore very seldom, but glasses that you thought made him look all the more cuter.

“Stop staring and actually go talk to the boy.”

Turning back to glare at your friend, you put your water bottle down after a long sip, “I wasn’t staring.”

“And I’m a rocket scientist.”

Being fed up with your friend’s antics, you gathered your things. You’d be ten minutes early but it would be okay if it meant not having to be taunted when you were already struggling to understand yourself.

“I’ll see you later.” You mumbled, throwing your bag across your back before you walked down the pathway back into the looming building, head spinning with thoughts.

You became curious as to when Chan’s smile became your favorite art piece and why his laugh sounded like the best alarm and why whenever his eyes looked at you, every molecule within you shook with such an expansive amount of energy that you were almost sure you would burst.

It frustrated you, confused you and most importantly, angered you. You didn’t enjoy feeling so vulnerable around him, because of him. Chan has made a frenemy in you since your second lecture together, but it was recently that your strong emotions made him an enemy.

“If you glare any longer at the desk, it might catch fire.”

You looked up into his smiling face, amusement and joy clear in his expression. He looked so much younger when he smiled like that, glasses and hoodie and the books under his arm.

“Then I’d have something to throw you into.”

He pouted playfully, sliding into the desk in front of you, “Oh come on cupcake, you wouldn’t actually want to see me burn to pieces, would you?”

Tilting your head and narrowing eyes, you paused for dramatic effect, “I quite enjoy the image of you screaming and crying in a pit of flames.”

Leaning forward, very close to your face, the boy’s voice lowered in volume, “Maybe it’s just the sadist in you hiding your overflowing passion for me.”

With a scowl, you shoved his laughing face away, hating how his laugh simmered to a smile the minute your hand made contact with his forehead, his eyes soft and inviting.

“Focus on the goddamn lecture, you bastard.”

“Yes ma’am.”

But you could barely take your own advice, your mind drifting back to the sound of his voice in that lowered octave, the feel of his warm skin beneath your fingertips and his pretty smile as if your touch brought him bliss. Even the back of his head distracted you, soft light brown locks shining under the beams of sunlight that filtered through the large overhead windows.

It became clear that Lee Chan was everything wrong with you and your heart.

So by the time class had drawn to an end, you stormed out as quickly as possible, aware that usually the boy would strike conversation and walk you out. You grabbed your things hastily and all but ran for the door, hearing him call out behind you.

Your attempt was but in vain as he caught up with you, jogging as he clasped the crook of your arm to stop you, “Where are you racing to?”

Shaking off his grip as subtlety as you could, you sighed, “Just needed fresh air.”

The boy, however was not convinced, that much was clear in his facial expression and the smallest of tilts to his head.

“Is something wrong?”

Concern, undoubtable concern and sympathy painted the shadows of his face and the depths of his irises and it hurt, hurt to see him so close but still so far from where your heart pictured him.

“No.” Your voice was cold, hoping it would put him off and make him leave, but if anything all the emotions displayed on his face intensified.

“That’s really not convincing me.” Chan stepped forward, hand still hovering over your arm, but it wasn’t a grip now, just a gentle reminder of his presence.

Your heartbeat was becoming too much for you and your equally as loud thoughts, everything feeling like it was bubbling to a sealed surface, threatening to cause damage, “Just leave, Chan. It doesn’t concern you and it shouldn’t.”

The boy looked taken back and hurt, but you couldn’t falter.

“I just care because I’ve never seen you like this before.”

“That’s probably because you don’t really know me, Chan, all you know is the girl you love to bother in your psychology lecture. I don’t mean that much to you, and you to me.”

The words felt wrong, even far before they left your mouth. Like an acid bubbling in your mouth, it stung to say but it was impulse and the destructive intent in you that let the words ring in your ears and his.

Chan was starting to get angry now, but still he remained calm, even if the hurt and anger swam in the deep browns of his eyes and steaming reds of the tips of his ears. “That’s pretty shitty to say, don’t you think, considering I’m always making an effort to get to know you? And you’re wrong to just simply assume you mean nothing to me, if that was the case, I wouldn’t be standing here right now.”

“Then leave, Chan, I’m not keeping you here and I don’t want you here.”

Something in his demeanor changed, there wasn’t a bright fire anymore, it simmered so quickly after your words, his shoulders slumped and face slack as if your words had been thieves stealing away his happiness.

He remained quiet for a while but then he opened his mouth again after some thought, “Fine but do me one last favor.”

You waited, a clear signal for him to continue.

Chan’s eyes seemed more aggressive and closed off, they weren’t the childlike playgrounds you had grown to long for on your off days, there was something bright about them now, as they rooted you down to the ground,

“Tell me you hate me so I can leave in one piece.”

Your heart cried, it begged and pleaded as it doubled in weight in your chest, almost as if to pull you to your knees in front of the boy you were deliberately hurting for your own selfish and ridiculous reasons.

Something in you broke in a way you hadn’t felt before and it left you staring at the boy wordless, eyes moving over every detail of his face, the stance he took as if to fight anything you had to say, but there was defeat in him too, something you wish you could take back.

But you knew you owed him a clean end, a solid closure so that he wasn’t left with endless bleeding and in giving him that, you were giving yourself the same thing.

If you told him you hated him, you’d stand no chance of going back and possibly hurting him further, there would be no lingering between the two of you and Chan could move on and so could you.

It felt more and more like a breakup as you choked back the tears, realizing that you had never gotten that far enough and you were ruining any chances of ever doing so.

“I hate you.”

The words were shaky, so small and weak but Chan still closed his eyes and turned away from you, walking down the hallway and away from you.

The boy’s back disappeared among other students and you were left clutching your books tightly to your chest in attempt to stop yourself from crying and falling to pieces from the self inflicted heartbreak as the first boy you had ever felt any feelings for left with his own wounds to nurse.

#prompt list #requested #thank you bby!#lee chan #seventeen dino #seventeen scenarios

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murkrees · 7 years

Text

art style; huang renjun ft. dream

summary: “i’m not stalking you, exactly, it’s just that you accidentally put my sketchbook in your bag and i’m waiting for a good moment to steal it back before you see the drawings of you i did in it.” based on this post.

pairing: renjun x reader

genre: high school! au

Renjun thumbed through the pages of his sketchbook, flipping through various sketches of you until he arrived at a blank page. Glancing at you from the corner of his eye, he gnawed at his lip in concentration as dark streaks started to appear on the pages. His hand flowed across the page, the rough outline of you starting to take shape. He continued on, looking up from his hunched position once in a while for reference even though he had drew you so many times by this point. The morning light streaming through the classroom window was hitting you perfectly, your hair framing your face in a way that made Renjun’s heart beat just a little bit faster. His cheeks pinked slightly, wondering what it would be like to run his hands through them -

“Renjun!” He startled, breaking out of his thoughts. Renjun’s wide eyes met his teacher’s by the board, raising an eyebrow at him in a questioning manner, “Would you bother explaining the differences between an oligotrophic, mesotrophic and eutrophic lake, please?”

“U-Uh…” he straightened in his chair, shifting the notebook closer to his body as he squinted at the whiteboard, “An oligotrophic lake has low nutrient concentration and organism growth, a eutrophic lake has high nutrient concentration and organism growth while mesotrophic lakes fall in the middle?”

“Correct,” his teacher narrowed her eyes, “Even though you may understand the material, Renjun, it would be beneficial if you kept your focus during classtime. Now sit with your partners, everyone – we’ll spend the rest of the time discussing our project.”

Renjun sighed in relief. His back slumped once more before he locked eyes with you from the other side of the classroom. You had stood up, grabbing your books and bags before making your way to him. He blushed in embarrassment, remembering that he had just zoned out in front of you, his partner and longtime crush.

“Morning!” You slid into the seat next to him, a bright smile on your face despite the early hours of the day. He slammed his sketchbook shut, hiding it behind the messy pile of papers and books strewn about on his desk before giving you a shy smile back.

“You’re cheery today,” he commented, toying with the corners of his biology notebook. You shrugged.

“Woke up on the right side of bed, I guess. I have a feeling something good’s going to happen today,” you turned to face him, “So, how are we going to make this self-sustaining terrarium?”

The class whizzed by, the both of you caught up in talking about the project. Papers were scribbled on and discarded, ideas crossed out and jotted down. The supposedly boring class of biology became more exciting as the both of you joked around and debated, planning on times to work on the project and who was going to keep and look after it. He couldn’t stop staring at you at times, a faint pink blush on his cheeks and a stupid smile on his face. Sure, he had drawn you a few times and more than his fair share of decent conversations, but the thought of being this close with you for the rest of the semester sent his heart fluttering a tad bit faster.

Before you knew it, the bell rung. Students were already packing their bags, ignoring the teacher up front reminding them of the project’s due date. Renjun himself was in no rush to stand up, wrapping up the conversation he had with you.

“What class do you have next, (Y/N)?” He asked.

“Oh, algebra,” you shrugged, before freezing, eyes wide in shock, “Oh, algebra! The test!”

You sprang out of your seat, hurriedly shoving all your papers inside and grabbing all your books. Renjun watched with an amused eye as you waved goodbye at him, rushing out of class in order to spare a few minutes of studying. He looked down to his lap, biting his lip as he remembered the easy flow of conversation you two shared and how there were going to be more to come. One thing was for sure – biology was quickly turning to be his favorite subject.

Renjun sighed, head resting against his propped elbow. His hand cupped his cheek, right hand absentmindedly doodling a sleeping moomin on the pages of his book. His chemistry teacher ranted on about acids and bases, but it seemed like his brain had just upped and left, taking his interest in the subject with it. Jaemin sat next to him, looking at the teacher simply because he didn’t have anything else to stare at while twirling his pen absentmindedly in his hand. Struck with a sudden urge to draw you, he reached down to his bag and rifled around for the familiar leather cover of his sketchbook, failing to find it for the first time.

He straightened in his seat. Leaning fully to the side, he started searching for it with both hands. He took out all of his notebooks and large objects, staring at the now empty bag with shocked eyes and a panic-frenzied heart. No, no – this sort of thing only happens in movies, right? He groaned out loud (earning a few startled looks from his classmates) and let his body flop, banging his head against the table as he buried in in his arms. The one thing you weren’t supposed to see (ever) was now in your possession, tucked snugly in your backpack.

Something poked his arm. Renjun let out another small moan, wordlessly letting his arms drop uselessly to his sides as he turned his head to face a worried-looking Jaemin. He stopped poking the older with his pen, pulling it away from his arm and tapping it against the table unconsciously.

“You okay, bro?” Renjun closed his eyes and whined, burying his face in his arms once more before abruptly straightening and throwing his head back. He mussed his hair up in frustration.

“She has my sketchbook,” Jaemin’s brows only furrowed deeper, “The black one. She has it.”

“And?”

“You don’t understand, Jaemin,” he put both hands on the boy’s shoulders, shaking him, “She has my sketchbook. I’m going to die.”

Jaemin’s lip formed an ‘o’ of understanding. Renjun bemoaned his fate, glancing at the wall clock. Seven more minutes until class ends – it was too late to ask for a bathroom slip now. He would just have to wait until the bell rung before he had any chances of getting his precious sketchbook back. That was all Renjun had to do; wait.

Renjun couldn’t wait. He had zero patience at all, if any, which explained why it was his third time in the hallway right now when they were barely half an hour into class. His bathroom pass was slung over his neck like the picture of a model student, and he walked extremely slowly to the bathroom on the other side of the building, making sure to slow down even more when he passed by the physics classroom.

He spotted your figure, heart feeling a little lighter when he saw you diligent in your own work instead of rifling through his sketchbook. Of course, that was what you had been doing this whole time. His eyes zeroed in on your backpack, unzipped and filled to the brim with books and papers. He sighed in relief. At least with the amount of stuff piled in there, the chances of you actually noticing his sketchbook were slimmer than ever.

Instead, he focused on the way you looked up and down from the board to your work, biting your lip in concentration as you pondered over calculations. He was entranced with the way your hand scribbled across the page, listening to the teacher explain the workings of a rollercoaster intently. He was confused over how you sent his heart skipping a beat over doing normal, mundane things; tasks you probably didn’t even think twice about doing. He stopped questioning it a long time ago, instead letting his feelings flow through lead to paper.

You looked up from your book, eyes catching his in a heartbeat. You lit up, sending him a small, discreet wave. He stiffened, cheeks flushing like a deer caught in headlights. Shyly, he brought his own hand up in greeting, his awkwardness earning him a small laugh from you.

He saw you stop abruptly, looking up before bowing your head in shame and readjusting yourself in your seat. Confused, he looked up himself to see the angry face of the physics teacher, glaring daggers at him through the glass window of the door. Renjun gulped, taking a step back before spinning on his heel and turning tail out of there before the teacher could storm out and give him the scolding of his life.

His cheeks were still tinted a deep red by the time he reached his language arts class, both from the embarrassment of being caught by the teacher and the giddiness of being noticed by you. He bowed to the teacher mindlessly as he entered, putting his bathroom pass on the door handle. She eyed him with a concerned look on her face.

“You took long, Renjun – If you have diarrhea, don’t hesitate to go to the nurse’s office, okay?”

From the back of the class, he swore he heard Donghyuck cackle.

“Woah! You have a Snorlax!” Jisung snatched Chenle’s 3DS from his hands, the older whining in protest. The maknae tinkered around with it, hunching to the side and ignoring the arms of the 2001 liner around his body in an attempt to grab it back, “That’s so cool!”

“Yah, Jisung Park, give that back,” Chenle complained. Jisung ignored him, far too invested in the pokemon.

Renjun ignored their antics, pushing his food around with his fork. His knee hopped up and down restlessly, appetite gone as he pictured you flipping through the pages of his sketchbook and the drawings of you that decorated them. The rest of the Dreamies were fooling around; Mark was ignoring the small pellets of food Donghyuck sent flying from his tray, Jeno and Jaemin were conversing about their biology project while Chenle and Jisung were shoving each other playfully in their fight to obtain the 3DS. He craned his neck slightly and looked around the cafeteria, hoping to spot you eating or in line for food instead of looking through his precious sketchbook. You were nowhere to be found, though. He huffed out an irritated sigh.

“You okay, Renjun?” Mark glanced at him, brows furrowing with worry, “You’ve been acting kind of… weird. Jittery. Nervous. You get my point.”

Donghyuck snorted, “He has diarrhea.”

“Is that true?” The eldest’s eyes widened, “You should head back to the dorms, dude. Taeyong hyung just stocked up on our medicine-“

“I don’t have diarrhea,” Renjun cut in, sending a dirty glance at the troublemaker, “And I’m not heading back. I have some important stuff to do.”

“Like stalking (Y/N)?”

Mark’s head whipped around to face the younger, bewildered, “You’ve been stalking (Y/N)? Renjun-”

“I haven’t been stalking anybody! Mark, why are you believing everything Donghyuck says?” He let his body flop onto Jeno’s side, “She took my sketchbook and I need to get it back! This is a tragedy - I’m never going to live this down.”

“The one with all your drawings of her in it?” Chenle questioned, managing to wrangle his 3DS from the bluenette’s hands. Renjun rubbed a hand over his face, wanting nothing more than to melt into a puddle.

“That one.”

The eldest winced, “That’s harsh, dude. What are you going to do about it?”

“Just ask for it back, Junnie,” Jaemin commented, swiping a french fry from Jeno’s tray and popping it in his mouth, “Easy peasy.”

“Because everyone’s good at confrontation like you, Jaemin,” he stated, “I can barely hold a decent conversation without wanting the earth to swallow me up whole.”

“The solution’s pretty simple, then,” Jisung cut in, “Snag it the moment she leaves her bag alone.”

“That could work,” Jeno supplied, frowning all the while, “But I’m not sure-“

“That could work! Jisung, you’re an angel!” With that, Renjun stood up and grabbed his tray, “I’m going to be home late. Go back to the dorms first without me.”

He was about to turn around and leave, but the sound of Mark calling out his name stopped him.

“Yes?”

“You don’t really have diarrhea, right?”

Donghyuck let out another loud cackle.

Renjun hid in the staircase beside the art room, waiting until the moment you would pass by. He knew you spent your time after school in that room, so he specifically chose to camp outside it and wait until you would go outside before taking his sketchbook. He’d been tailing you the entire day, walking behind you in the small, five-minute margins between classes to make sure you didn’t see any of his drawings. He also made sure to pass by your classes, only to see you diligent in your work most of the time.

Granted, there were a couple of close calls, but he made sure to hide between lockers or behind some pillars. It was a miracle you hadn’t even caught on yet – and he thought he was slow. Nervously, he pressed his phone’s home button, the digital analog showing the numbers 16:21. You would be here soon, probably. Unseemly thoughts swirled in his head; what if you needed to go home early? What if you didn’t go to the bathroom at all today? What if you had already rifled through his sketchbook and decided to head home to ponder how to reject him as harshly as possible or wonder about how much of a creep he was?

All of the thoughts in his head dispersed once he spotted you walking down the stairs, talking animatedly to one of your friends. He ducked down to avoid being seen by you, but kept it raised just enough to watch your moves. You waved goodbye to your friend, parting ways with a cheery goodbye. Renjun ducked his head down further. You were in high spirits; mouth upturned in a pleasant smile, steps light as you entered the art room. Carefully, Renjun made his way down the staircase and situated himself beside the lockers. His fingers gripped the small ledge of the wall, pulling himself up to peer through the windows.

You had put your backpack down on the table, stretching with your arms high above your head. You pulled your phone out of your pocket, spending a good minute standing beside the table staring at your screen. Just as he felt like you weren’t going to leave the room at all, you turned around and made your way to the door, all the while typing something.

Renjun turned around and pressed his body flat against the wall, trying to stay hidden. You passed by him without a cinch. He waited until you turned the hallway and an extra 5 seconds after that before slipping inside the art room, shutting the door behind him as quietly as possible. After another check out of the window to make sure you weren’t returning soon, he made his way to the table you set your backpack atop of.

With a quick glance left and right, Renjun gingerly opened your bag and snuck his hand in. His hand bumped around your papers and books, wincing every time he heard the crinkling of your papers. He tried to feel the leather cover of his sketchbook, growing more frustrated with each passing second. After a few heartbeats, he pulled the flap up and peered inside. His hand grazed over a familiar texture, and with an internal leap of joy, he grasped the top of his sketchbook.

“Renjun? What are you doing?”

He froze. He dreaded turning around; you had caught him red-handed, hand still in your bag. You didn’t sound accusatory or hurt, though. Instead, your voice was laced with confusion. Face turned up in a wince, he imagined your expression right now.

“(Y/N)! F-Fancy seeing you here, haha,” he whirled around, laughing awkwardly as he pulled his sketchbook out of your bag and held it up beside his head, “I was – I was just, uh, this?”

You nodded slowly by the doorway, eyes locked on the sketchbook, “Will that also explain why you’ve been stalking me for the whole day?”

His cheeks flushed red in embarrassment, “I-I wasn’t stalking you, exactly, it’s just that you accidentally put my sketchbook in your bag and I was waiting for a good moment to steal it back?”

“O-Oh,” you cleared your throat, blushing, “Sorry about that. Just tell me about it next time, okay?”

“Noted,” he looked down before looking back up at you, “Now that I’ve got this, I’ll just, um, go now?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” you stepped to your side as he exited, watching as he turned around and waved at you.

“Thanks for this,” he gestured to his sketchbook, smiling bashfully at you, “See you tomorrow, (Y/N).”

“Get home safely,” you added. He nodded, whirling on his heel to walk down the hallway. Before he could get too far, however, you called out his name once more, “Renjun!”

He looked back at you. You smiled at him, eyes glinting with mirth, “I love your art style, by the way!”

Renjun really wanted the Earth to swallow him up whole now.

cr. gif not mine unless stated!

136 notes · View notes

brokeandjetlagged · 7 years

Text

Take a Chance on Me (Wonwoo/Reader)

Wonu sat there, blinking, with some unmeasurable weight in his chest that prevented him from speaking, from breathing properly.

an awkward bookworm Wonwoo for all of you~

a/n Wonwoo is romanized as “Wonu” throughout the fic b/c honestly, it just sounds more right. Also, this a companion piece to “So What Can’t I Do?” but can totally be read separately

There are many things that could be said about people who believe so wholeheartedly in fate. Most of what Wonu would say about such people would probably be very unflattering, so it was a good thing that he had the sense to keep such opinions to himself. Well, mostly. Almost half of the time, at least.

“How was the wedding?”

“I give it a year,” Wonu said dryly, pulling at his tie and kicking off his shoes at the door. His roommate, Junhui, was only momentarily distracted from some Chinese drama he was (illegally) streaming on the TV. His eyes were already pulling back to the screen, his hand reaching to rest in its comfy home inside his sweatpants. If Junhui were half as charming as he was handsome, no person in Seoul would be safe.

“That’s harsh,” Junhui chided. “Haven’t they been dating for like, ever?”

“Three years,” Wonu amended, flopping onto the ratty couch next to Junhui. Maybe by his next paycheck he could afford to replace it with something better. He was exhausted, although this wedding was about as short as any other. From the time Wonu had entered the wedding hall, witnessed the ceremony, and offered his congratulations to the new couple, not two hours had passed. Something about seeing Minki, just a few years older than Wonu himself, stand and confidently pledge the rest of his life to someone drained all of Wonu’s energy. His brain processed the entire thing slowly, his thoughts moving like molasses through the vows, the readings, the prayers. How, was one of the only thoughts that had enough momentum to circle back to him more than once. How is he so sure?

“Give Minki some credit, then.” Junhui spoke importantly, but a lilt to his words betrayed how little he actually cared about one of Wonu’s college buddies and his happy marriage. “Once you get to be our age,” he paused here, to pick his nose, and then resumed, “stuff like this will make sense.”

“I’m the same age as you,” Wonu said, fighting to keep an eyelid from twitching.

“Not mentally.”

Wonu would like to convey that he knows that attempted murder is never the answer for shutting up an annoying Chinese man. But if Junhui had continued to speak, there would have been a greater danger of Wonu having to jump off the balcony, and he was not above acknowledging that he probably had more to offer in his life than Junhui—who rarely did much other than model, eat, and annoy him.

(Wonu would also like to convey to you, dear reader, that, while it stings his pride, he has never been attributed to being very well-muscled. Or coordinated. He risked spraining a wrist if he turned a page in a book too quickly. So any murder attempt was never long-lived.)

“You’re awful,” Junhui coughed dramatically, rubbing his throat long after Wonu had recovered from his bloodlust. “You’ll never find love with this kind of behavior.”

Wonu hid his sneer by picking up a book from the coffee table, and spent the rest of the night annoying Junhui by loudly (and with terrific mispronunciation) repeating every other line of dialogue from My I.

Within the next few weeks, spring had come, and Wonu had mostly forgotten Minki’s wedding except for the new photos on Instagram from their (Wonu repressed a shudder at even the thought) married-life Instagram that Seungcheol had guilted him into following.

But yes, anyway: his last bout of midterms as a college student had ended, and spring—as mentioned before—made the air warm and the cherry blossoms close to falling, and it prompted Wonu want to get off a few stops early and walk the rest of the way home.

The fact that there was a Kyobo bookstore a few hundred meters away from this station wasn’t a factor.

The fact that Wonu found himself there only five minutes later was purely coincidence.

There were a lot of pushes recently among Wonu’s family (mostly by aunts that spent too much time on facebook) to abandon chains like this and favor more local, Korean-owned book stands. But Wonu was pretty proud of how much his English reading had improved since high school, and not many Dongdaemun book stalls had much to offer beyond a few battered copies of Harry Potter.

Junhui had come with him into bookstores a few times after he had first moved in. The man had been eager to explore some of the neighborhood and pick up Korean textbooks (this was when Junhui looked at Wonu with awe and didn’t know much Korean. A much happier time in Wonu’s life), but Junhui soon found that the internet and his drinking buddies were much better tutors, and Wonu made his trips alone again.

The classics were always the first that Wonu checked in the Foreign Books section. Nothing ever really changed there, but there was some sort of comfort in knowing that whatever he bought had been acclaimed and loved for ages. No one ever occupied this section either, besides college students like him, or middle-aged, professor-looking types that looked like they could go on for hours about which color pantaloons the early English nobility wore. But it was deserted today, and Wonu didn’t suppress his smile as his shoulders relaxed, and he let his fingers brush the spines of a whole shelf of Pride and Prejudice as he walked down the aisle.

After about thirty minutes of double checking a Naver blog post about the great classics, Wonu was debating between Jane Eyre and Lolita when someone cleared their throat. Wonu jumped, startled, and clutched his books to his chest like an embarrassed teenager when he saw the woman trying to get by him.

She pressed her lips together in an embarrassed smile at his reaction, and bowed her head slightly, moving to get by him before she stopped, seeing the books he had been trying to decide between. Wonu wasn’t exactly opposed to her lingering gaze.

“You like your books scandalous?” She asked, and Wonu blinked dumbly at her for a moment before stuttering back to life.

“Um, yes.” He fought off the urge to smack himself. “I mean, yeah, I like it. Have you read them before?”

“Only this one,” she admitted, pointing to Lolita’s cover. “I have a friend with the same name. She hates it, so I have to quote it whenever possible. Obviously.”

Wonu was too startled to hold back his laughter. And he was glad he hadn’t kept it to himself when her face broke into an expression of a relieved sense of accomplishment. She was foreign, and although confident, was probably met with varying reactions when she interacted with anyone in Korean. A twinge of understanding resonated through his chest; she kind of reminded him of Junhui. Although much, much prettier.

“Sorry for interrupting you,” she said after a pause, heat staining her cheeks. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

Wonu sat there, blinking, with some unmeasurable weight in his chest that prevented him from speaking, from breathing properly. She didn’t wait for him to speak--which was a good call, he probably looked like a gaping lunatic--and was lost into the crowd of shoppers almost immediately. Wonu shook his head, as if that could throw off the lingering embarrassment and heat he felt in his face, and put one of the books back without checking. He’d been having a nice day up until five minutes ago. Well. It was still nice, but he felt like his insides were spaghetti and someone and just stuck a fork in them and given it a good twirl.

“What’s wrong with you?” Junhui said loudly as Wonu walked into the living room. He flung his bag down and threw himself over the couch.

“Um. I bought a book?” Wonu looked at the brown paper bag that had landed next to his book bag. He didn’t really remember buying it.

“You bookworms are gross,” Junhui said bluntly, heading to his room. “Buy one book and you come home looking like you just got your first blowjob.” He paused before shutting his door, and poked his head out to the living area again. “Oh, you see, a blowjob is what happens when someone actually wants to put their--” He slammed the door shut suddenly, and a thick magazine thudded off the wood half a second later.

“Asshole,” Wonu muttered under his breath, slumping back down into the cushions.

While Junhui was possibly a demon from hell, Wonu did have him to thank for introducing him to a lot of cool people that he wouldn’t have met otherwise. The friends that he had made in the last two years he’d roomed with Junhui were so much better than the pricks that were in Wonu’s school’s journalism department.

The best of these new friends was a senior at Jihoon’s performing arts school, Soonyoung, who had also just finished his midterms and was itching to celebrate. And this is how Wonu found himself out on this particular Saturday night in the busier section of his neighborhood.

Wonu, contrary to every malicious rumor Junhui had tried to spread, did not only like to jerk it to old books that smell like death. He had many hobbies. Including drinking. Including this specific place’s honey makkoli that made his head swim but his lips taste sweet when he ran his tongue over them. A waitress came by with another bottle of liquor and a pot of honey and Wonu’s other hobby could be taking her as his wife because yes.

“You’re funny when you drink,” Soonyoung sniggered as he mixed another--their fourth? Fifth?--round of drinks.

“I’m funny all of the time,” Wonu said immediately. He stretched his hand out in front of him, flexing his fingers.

Soonyoung just laughed, which Wonu thought proved his point (it doesn’t, poor boy), and Wonu moved on to trying to think back on the specific train of conversation they were having before Soonyoung felt it necessary to point out how hilarious Wonu was. “What were we talking about?”

“Well,” Soonyoung shrugged, ladling out another cup for Wonu. “Nothing really. You just asked that poor girl to marry you though.”

“Oh.” Wonu winced, feeling a little of his happy, swimmy vibe dribble out of his ears.

“Aw, I’m sure she would’ve said no,” Soonyoung chided, grinning at Wonu’s red face. “And then you’d still have a perfectly clean no-commitment record.”

“You make me sound like such a douchebag,” Wonu complained. He thought of the girl from earlier that week, just a few days ago, really. His tongue felt heavy just thinking of her, though. And he shook the thought away. “Just because I’m not--I’ve never…” Wonu trailed off, blinking as his words stopped trotting around in his head long enough for him to realize what kind of tangent he was going on. “Wow, I’m drunk.” He dug the heels of his palms into his eye sockets.

“It’s okay,” Soonyoung laughed good naturedly, slapping a hand on Wonu’s scrawny shoulder and giving it a good shake. “So you’re not ready. Big deal. Maybe you will be and maybe you won’t.”

One of the greatest things about Soonyoung was that he sometimes spouted stuff like that, like he’d been some sort of living vessel for ancient Buddhist texts that knew exactly what Wonu needed to hear in order to not feel like his life was just one shitty decision after another. Wonu rewarded him by paying the bill, and letting Soonyoung crash on his couch instead of forcing him to find a taxi all the way back to his one-room on the other side of the river.

“Nunu,” Soonyoung groaned as Wonu gave up on wrestling him out of his coat. “You’ll find someone who’ll make you crazy.”

“What makes you say that?” Drunk asshole almost rolled off his tongue, but Soonyoung had been very nice that night and he was, Wonu reminded himself, his favorite.

“You drive a lot of people crazy.” Soonyoung giggled. His curse was that the alcohol hit him doubly hard once he was horizontal. Wonu brought a little wastebasket over, just in case, in the time Soonyoung had untied his tongue enough to continue. “Junhui and Jihoon would love it to see you all heart-eyed over someone, after all the shit you put them through.”

“They deserved it.” Jihoon had serenaded that one girl from the rooftop of one of his university buildings. Like a love-sick male lead in a cliche drama. There was a video of it on Youtube. What did he expect? For Wonu to not hum that song whenever Jihoon mentioned any new girl?

“It’s okay,” Soonyoung said, and his hand came up to clumsily pat Wonu on the cheek. More of a dull slap, really. “I’ll be rooting for you.”

Wonu blushed and slurred out a thank you before heading to his own bed.

Wonu almost wished he took another seminar class for his last semester rather than leaving a block of time for an internship. Working was hard. He could barely cope with trudging his way to work at the crack of dawn on top of his other classes and homework. How was he going to cope with a full time journalism job: forty hours a week, including research, editing, arranging interviews and scheduling shoots? He wanted to take a nap.

He couldn’t nap though. Or well. A nap wouldn’t be very proper in line at a Starbucks. The soulless drones that wandered Seoul would just step over him like he was garbage that hadn’t been collected from the night before, and he would get fired for being late.

Someone from behind jostled him, and Wonu huffed a little and scooted forward the two inches that he could. Seriously: Soulless. Drones. And when he got another tap on the shoulder, he had to fight from snapping when he turned around angrily to--

A pair of eyes blinked at him and then crinkled into a smile of recognition, and Wonu couldn’t stop the puzzled way his eyebrows drew together. It was the girl from the bookstore. The funny, pretty one. Her hair was pulled back from her face, and she was dressed like she was headed to work like him, like everyone else in line. It was weird. He had just assumed she was a tourist, or maybe an exchange student. Seeing her against the backdrop of a Monday morning in a random Starbucks felt out of place, like she didn’t belong in boring planes of reality like this.

“Hello,” she said. Not over friendly, but polite. Sort of like how he would greet his co-workers when he finally made it in this morning. Not like he was some stranger she had exchanged a handful of words with a few weeks ago.

“Hello,” he nodded to her, and the absurdity of exchanging greetings with a complete stranger made him choke on a laugh. He held a hand over his mouth, but couldn’t stop the effects of his smile changing the shape of his cheeks, his eyes. “Have you been well?”

“Yes,” she said, and the way she had to bite the inside of her cheek let Wonu know that she had enough sense to know how out of place this was. “Which book did you choose?”

“You remember?” Wonu said, but he wasn’t very surprised. “Um. Jane Eyre.”

“That’s a good one,” she nodded, and moved her chin so that Wonu knew to take a step towards the counter. “I thought you were a student.”

“I were. I am.” Wonu started fishing his wallet from the depths of his pockets. His hands got nervous. “I have an internship in the mornings though.”

“Oh. I intern too.” The way she said it made it seem special, like she and Wonu were the only two interns in all of Seongdong.“I’m an editor at one of those startup volunteer organizations. Refugees and that sort of stuff.”

Wonu ducked his head down a little. That sounded a lot better than the morning of errands that he was about to run for a hoard of Dispatch wannabees. “That’s sounds interesting.”

“Yeah. It’s your turn.”

“It’s just this gossip newsletter. I just tweak the site and--”

“No, uh. It’s your turn.” Wonu followed her gaze to the empty register, where an employee was clearly hiding her irritation behind a smile. He gathered his strength and managed to walk forward and place his order without his face melting off from his blush; he gave himself a small pat on the back while he went to join the bundle of commuters waiting for their order to be called.

“You’re funny,” she said when she came over to wait as well. She said it lowly, in English, not rude or conversational, but an observation.

“No, I’m Wonu,” he said back, switching over to her language. He knew his accent was awful--his parents couldn’t afford to send him abroad like his cousins. But it made her smile. He liked the way her eyes shined; even though the sound didn’t escape, the light of laughter was trapped in her, and it refused to be quiet completely.

She told him her name, and Wonu butchered it, but promised to try harder, or come up with a nickname for her if he got really lazy.

“Meeting twice is kind of testing fate in a city like Seoul,” she said after her order was called. She looked at him levelly over the plastic top of her coffee as she took her first sip. “You seem nice.”

Nice. She thought he was nice. Wonu kind of floated on that for the rest of the morning. Minhyun yelled at him for accidentally deleting some D-list idol’s interview edits, but Wonu couldn’t find it in him to care. She also thought he was funny, said some part of his brain that did not want him to focus on any task he was given. She laughed at him a lot, anyway. And now he had her kkt ID stored in his phone.

“You’re acting weirder than usual,” Minhyun said loudly as he passed Wonu’s desk. He tossed a thumb-drive over to Jonghyun. “What is it?”

“He’s smiling too much,” Jonghyun said, his voice distorted around his fourth mug of coffee. Jonghyun was a perpetually tired grad student who also moonlighted as a dance crew leader in Hongdae. Wonu wasn’t actually one-hundred percent sure that Jonghyun could exist, as a person, without being hooked up to a caffeine IV.

“So I’m not allowed to smile?” Wonu deadpanned, the edges of his mouth smoothing down. Minhyun just shrugged.

“Classes going well?” Jonghyun guessed.

“They’re okay.”

“It’s a girl,” Minhyun said, leaning against Jonghyun’s chair in order to get a look at his computer screen.

“Are you into girls?” Jonghyun asked. He seemed unbiasedly curious, but he didn’t look up from his assignment.

“Sometimes,” Wonu said bitterly. That floaty feeling was getting dampened by this conversation, which is why Wonu genuinely did not like people in his business. Having another set--or sets--of eyes on him made everything seem tiny, examined piece by piece under a microscope. If you look at something closely enough, the importance seems to drain out of it. Or worse, you realize it wasn’t even important to begin with.

She texted him at 8:59pm on Saturday. Wonu only knows this because it was the exact time that they were announcing the guests for the next week of Knowing Bros. It was SHINee, and Wonu was already being bombarded by messages. He was trying to figure out how to mute Soonyoung’s alert tone (because there are only so many times he could be disturbed by a keyboard smash without wanting to smash Soonyoung’s head against a keyboard) when her icon popped up in a banner.

Free sometime tomorrow or Monday?

Wonwho: tomorrow? 4? There’s a good cafe near exit 8

Junhui called it a date. Wonu was not that optimistic--he was realistic.

“That’s not realistic, that’s just being sad,” Junhui said, rubbing an eye and smearing some of the liner a stylist had forgotten to wipe off. “You’re not a sad person. Go sow your wild oats.”

Wonu raised an eyebrow at him. “Where did you even learn that expression?”

“I’m telling you: I was a scholar in my previous life, and Buddha decided to reward me with good looks in this one. Maybe he’ll do the same for you.”

“That’s not how Buddhism works,” Wonu said boredly through a mouthful of ramen.

“I’ll start my own sect then. Wanna be my first disciple?”

Maybe in a different universe, they did start their own religion, right there in the living room. Converted millions and changed lives and went down in history as modern re-evangelists. Wrote essays and papers and revamped prayers to account for vanity and the need for more instagram followers.

In this universe though, Junhui’s joke (like many, many others, Wonu feels the need to add) fell flat, and the drone of shit variety television did little to distract that he (Jeon Wonu) indeed, perhaps, maybe had a date the following day.

End (?)

I’m gonna start doing things where I just post something after I feel “done” with it, and maybe post updates/chapters once I get the juice back, or people really like a certain thing and want to see more of it. I have a little more in store for this little arc, but if I don’t get to it, i’m okay with this short little piece.

thanks everyone for continuing to read and support my stuff. i check my notifs daily

#seventeen fanfic #wonwoo fanfic #wonwoo fluff #kpop fanfiction #wonwoo scenario #seventeen scenario

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