#anyways heres a nice brief moment between them before i figure out how to mess w the family in my hcs lolll

[aces-and-angels]

nangan kan? // กินข้าวหรือยัง // have you eaten yet?

"food is the asian love language. it’s the cut fruit, sharing dishes, and sending you off with containers of leftovers. it’s making you your favorite dish, stuffing you and offering you seconds and thirds and fourths, and asking whether you've eaten yet or worrying if you’re not eating well." -ivy kwong, lmft

texts from enid's parents for aapi heritage month- prompt "food" @choicescommunityevents

i imagine enid being someone who didn't call home often while attending college- esp. after she made the decision to switch over to law. but once in a while, her parents would check in like this.

[sweetangelgirl7]

𝐰𝐞𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝜗𝜚 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨

𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 you and your friends decide to road trip up to the cabin in the midst of the wet, hot, american summer. however, you and chris haven’t been able to keep your hands to yourselves for weeks. just how hot will it get?

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, praise kink, oral, unprotected, creampie, substance use, language, descriptive, recording!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.6k

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: hi, my first fic & smut story! this is highly inspired by t.i. west’s “x” (without the gore, of course). i tend to be descriptive with scenery and details so if you’re not a fan of that, my writing may not be for you. anyways, i hope it’s not bad, enjoy!

the texas summer heat filled the rickety old van as the five of you drove the open road, the dry warmth wrapping around your bodies like a blanket. the air conditioner was working overtime on full blast as you had your feet up on the dashboard, your manicured toes wriggling in the air hitting them through the open window.

your eyes trailed over the words of the book lying in your lap, trying to read through the slight feeling of motion sickness coming on. you sat in the passenger seat as matt drove, while nick, chris, and nate sat in the back of the van discussing useless topics to pass the time for the last hour or so. you all had been on the road since the break of day and it was already half past twelve as you were nearing the cabin.

the five of you took the weekend to road trip up to the country to relax and film content, when given the chance.

taking a brief moment away from your book, you looked out at the rolling yellow grass of the texas plains. as you all had been driving for hours straight, matt pulled off the dusty road up to a run down, road side gas station and drove the van up to the lone gas pump over the gravel. you let a sigh of relief out to finally stretch your legs and get a snack from inside.

“alright everyone out” matt shouted as the van door slid open, followed by the three boys in the back piling out into the warm air. you slipped your platform sandals on and stepped out of the vehicle, slamming the door shut behind you. it felt nice to stand up and walk around but more importantly, to finally tug at the tiny shorts that had been uncomfortably riding up your ass almost the entire ride. you adjusted your tube top and held your hair up in one hand, letting the breeze hit your neck clung with sweat and baby hairs.

matt was busy filling up the van while nick and nate had already made their way inside of the rural gas station. you began to walk up the gravel as you felt a hand smack your ass, flinching at the touch. “ouch” you hissed, turning to see chris walking past you.

“those little fucking shorts have been driving me crazy” he chuckled as a grin pulled at the corner of his lips, walking backwards to face you before he could turn around to head in through the door.

you and chris had been messing around for awhile now but the balls on the kid never ceased to amaze you, literally and figuratively. sneaking around here and there when the boys weren’t looking, hell, even when they were, touching in passing and under the table to drive one another crazy. it started as a bored summer night fling until you both realized that you couldn’t keep your hands to yourselves soon after the fact.

shaking your head with a sly grin, you joined the boys in the store as they grabbed snacks off the shelves to keep themselves sane for the rest of the trip. sliding the ice cream freezer open, you leaned over the cold air for a moment of relief, the chill instantly littering your skin with goosebumps. funnily enough, your felt your nipples perk up beneath the fabric of your top in response to the immediate crisp sensation. a natural reaction, in comparison to the sweltering heat for the past five hours.

reaching down to grab a bomb pop, the cold wrapper felt nice between your hand. placing their items on the counter, chris offered to pay for everyone’s snacks as the cashier scanned each item. the hum of the old radio filling the silence while they waited to tear into the food. standing next to chris, he glanced down at you as his attention slowly trailed down to your nipples on display through your tube top, in which he couldn’t wait to tear into you. a smile crept on his face before finally looking up at you, your eyes already locked on him. “up here, perv” you mouthed quietly, motioning to your eyes.

piling out of the gas station, you tore at the wrapper of the bomb pop before taking the frozen popsicle between your lips. closing your eyes for a moment, the cherry flavor turned them an artificial shade of red. chris tucked his wallet into his back pocket, walking near you as he watched your lips cling onto the popsicle, imagining them plump and red around his dick in it’s place.

“damn relax” he groaned in your ear, adjusting himself in his shorts as he walked behind you “save all that for me later, yeah?” he teased, planting a warm kiss on your exposed shoulder before you could push him away, not wanting the rest of the group to catch wind of his very blatant behavior. you looked him in the eye before licking up the side of the red, white, and blue popsicle, sucking on the tip while letting a small laugh escape as it lingered on your lips. “well unless you’re cherry, lime, and raspberry flavored, i don’t think so.” you teased, taking a small bite.

“i can be whatever flavor you want” he chuckled, smacking your ass once again, sending your body forward as he caught up with the boys to load up in the back of the van. you rolled your eyes, pulling your shorts down once more before finding your seat in the front for the remainder of the trip.

⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

as matt finally pulled up on the long winding road to the cabin you all unloaded your bags from the van, chris insisting on carrying your things. walking up the steps of the wood home nestled amongst the towering trees, you all couldn’t help but explore the grounds as you’d rented this place on a whim. the cabin was alone between hundreds of wooded acres, accompanied by a swimming hole and a rope swing that you already knew the guys would abuse throughout the weekend.

“alright, i’m fucking beat so i’m gonna wash off and lay down for a little. we can just meet up later and decide what we’re gonna do.” matt explained to the group, before the rest of them nodded in agreement. nick and nate were already out the door and into the woods, walking the lake trail to map out the site as there was essentially no service. matt headed towards his chosen room to put his things down and grab a quick shower.

leaving you and chris in the cozy open living room area, he looked over your half exposed body before nodding in the direction up the stairs to your room. you laughed, walking past him, purposely wanting to take the stairs in front of him knowing the fabric of your bottoms would cover little to nothing on the way up. taking a step up the creaking stairs, you turned back to him standing in the same spot. “well let’s go then, tiger” you teased, hooking your finger to gesture him in your direction. he grinned and began to follow behind, instinctively looking up your shorts to take a peak of the folds where your ass met your thighs as you walked in front of him.

“those goddamn shorts kid” he continued before you could shake your head as a giggle rolled off your lips “oh will you shut up about the shorts already” you joked as you made your way down the hallway and into the single bedroom upstairs.

chris put your bags down on the rug, before shutting the door behind him. he had one bag around his shoulder still that carried their equipment, placing it on the quilted bed before sitting on the edge.

he reached inside of the bag, taking out an old digital camcorder they recently purchased. usually nick and matt dealt with the technical equipment but chris had managed to get his hands on it for ideas of his own that he had been sitting on since the car ride. tossing it aside with a grin, he decided to come back to it later.

meanwhile, you walked around the room, dusting your finger across the shelves of knick knacks and picture frames that adorned the walls. you had a window with a view of the never ending forest, which you knew would give you problems later on when it got dark. leaning forward to slide the window open, you placed your hands on the window sill and peeked out to take a breath of the pine filled air. slightly jutting your hips sporting ‘those little shorts’ back to taunt chris as he watched you from behind.

“what are you doing with all that ass” he laughed as you turned to face him with a look of surprise. “who, me?” you feigned innocence, wearing a smug smirk of satisfaction.

“yeah, you. come ‘ere” chris spoke with a low tone of command. walking in his direction, the wood floors creaked beneath your sandals. your eyes flickered down to chris’ shorts, as you realized that wasn’t the only wood in the cabin.

“these old things really seem to work you up, huh?” you teased and tugged at the waistband of your shorts, standing between his spread legs as his eyes made their way up to yours. although nothing seemed funny anymore as his blue hues darkened over, trailing his hands up the back your thighs and over your ass. chris slowly worked on unbuttoning your bottoms as your hand reached out to rest on his shoulder in approval. he tugged your shorts and panties down past your thighs in one go, the sound of your clothes hitting the floor filled the room as you stood in front of him. he leaned forward to place a kiss against your pelvis as his hands gripped the supple skin of your ass.

looking up at you, he planted another kiss against your body before slipping his hand beneath the hem of your top, one hand locked in his brown wavy hair, pulling at the strands between your fingers.

he pulled you closer to him as you instinctively straddled his lap before you could pull at the fabric of his shirt between your fist. getting the hint without uttering a word, he pulled it over his head and tossed it to the side, letting the silver chain around his neck hit his skin.

you traced your finger over his bare chest, fiddling with the chain between your digits as he silently scanned over your face. the intensity behind his eyes grew by the second as he watched you graze his skin.

you felt his dick pulse beneath your exposed core as you mildly grinded your hips over his clothed hard on. the folds of your pussy teasingly rubbed against the thin fabric of his shorts every now and then.

“you wanna be a good girl and show me how you wrapped your lips around that popsicle?” chris asked with his head slightly tilted back, his voice low and raspy as he took your chin in his hand to look him in the eye. you nodded in his hold while he glided the pad of his thumb against your bottom lip, pushing your lips open for you to wrap around his thumb.

“aht aht” he smugly shook his head as you looked up at him before he gently lowered you from his lap to your knees. resting your hands over your already bruised knees, patched with shades of purple and blue, you sat up straight and looked at chris seated before you on the edge of the bed. looking down at you, he palmed the boner growing beneath his shorts.

standing to his feet, chris tugged off his shorts and boxers at the same time. his fully erect dick slapping his lower stomach as he pulled the waistband of his boxers down.

now standing in front of you, he took the base of his cock in one hand and pumped at it a few times before you could take him in between your fingertips. adjusting yourself, you leaned back on the balls of your heels and sat up straight to reach his length, letting a trail of saliva coat his throbbing cock.

“fuck” he muttered under his breath at the wet feeling, watching you take him in both hands as he caressed your cheek in his palm with the pad of his thumb.

“hold up” he broke out, turning back to reach for the digital camera on the bed that he set aside earlier. opening the viewfinder, he slipped the camera strap over his four fingers before pointing the blinking camcorder down at you, looking sheepishly up at him.

“chris!” you shouted, immediately hiding your blushed face behind your hand.

“c’mon show me your face, baby” he groaned, as the mere tone of his voice didn’t take much convincing for you to oblige. you slowly showed your face, looking up at the camera through your lashes out of embarrassment. “there’s my pretty girl” he cooed with a grin at the site of your face on the viewfinder. swollen lips and all, against the tip of his cock.

“go ahead” he mumbled, continuing to look at you through the camera.

you nodded your head before bashfully licking his angry red tip, flattening your tongue against his sensitive slit. chris hissed between his teeth at the touch, looking up at him past the camera you slowly wrapped your lips around his cock, just like the bomb pop. you moved your head forward, your hand still at the base of his dick as you slowly began to bob your head back and forth up his length. chris groaned at the sight, his hand now holding the back of your head. despite the pressure, you pulled back to spit on his dick again, letting it trail down your lips

“fuck…just like that” he let a drawn out moan behind the camera.

“you look so hot” he praised as you continued to move up and down his veiny cock, your hand twisting at the base as the other rested against his thigh. “you’re a fuckin’ star” he moaned lowly, zooming in on your rosy features. your cheeks began to hollow out as you sucked harder, the warmth of your mouth wrapping around him with every stroke.

as you continued, he felt his stomach clench as he was inching closer to his climax before a voice abruptly pulled you both out of your home video.

“we’re gonna go swimming, let’s go!” nick shouted to anyone that was listening in the house, as chris rolled his eyes followed by a defeated groan.

you giggled at his expressions, letting a slight popping sound escape as his hard on slipped out of your mouth and slapped against his stomach.

“no baby keep going, really quick for me, please.” he whined, tilting his head back as he didn’t want to be left with the pain of blue balls.

“aw, we can finish this later” you teased, wiping the corner of your mouth before standing to your feet as you turned to grab a bikini out of your bag.

leaning over, your ass was still on full display as your pink folds peaked out between your ass cheeks. chris grumbled behind you, slapping your ass as he rubbed the red hand print on your skin out beneath his fingers.

“later you can show me how those lips wrap around my popsicle” he mumbled quietly to the camera, slowly zooming in on your picture perfect core.

“christopher!” you shouted, covering the lens with your hand as he chuckled behind you.

⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

after hours of swimming in the lake, you all had decided to finally get out and dry off by sunset.

matt and nate had already started a fire in the pit just off of the cabin porch as the rest of you grabbed snacks and drinks out of the cooler, attempting to dry up in the process.

sitting around the fire, you were cuddled next to nick on the benches surrounding the pit with a throw blanket wrapped around the both of your shoulders. chris sat on opposite side of you, wishing it was him instead of nick. the ember and haze of the fire rising between your eye levels as you two continued to steal glances throughout the evening.

for the rest of the night you all partook in traditional campfire activities. stargazing, s’mores, sharing passed down scary stories, and occasionally flinching at the sound of a twig snapping in the distance.

after a couple of hours, you decided to tug your boots on and call it a night. the boys stayed outside and passed a joint around, making them equally giggly as their laughter echoed through the still woods.

making it up to your room, you tugged the damp bikini off of your body and let the somehow still sopping wet material hit the floor. hanging the two piece over the headboard to dry, you wanted to wash off the smoky scent that lingered on your body. luckily, you called dibs on the master bedroom with a bathroom attached so you didn’t have to go too far.

after a much needed warm shower, you wrapped the white bath towel tightly around your body and wiped the condensation off the mirror to brush your hair out.

your attention on the brush in your hand was pulled away at the sound of a thump against your bedroom window. jesus, just what you needed after all those dumb scary stories. slowly peaking out of the bathroom, the noise had stopped altogether. you shook your head and brushed the sound off, continuing to comb through your soaking wet hair.

moments later it began again, tap…tap…tap against the window.

“what the fuck” you muttered to yourself as your heart began to beat faster in your chest. you tried to calm yourself down by the fact that you were on the second floor and there was no way someone could get up there without you hearing, no way.

tensely creeping towards the window, a small rock hit the glass causing you to flinch as your heart sank to your stomach. leaning your palms forward on the window sill, you saw chris looking up at you from the ground outside.

you rolled your eyes and let a sigh out, pulling up the window “you could just come inside, you know, instead of giving me a fucking heart attack.” you teased, sitting on the frame beneath the lace curtains blowing in the breeze as your pulse slowed to a normal pace.

“well, where’s the fun in that?” he whispered loudly so you could hear, a grin tugging at his lips.

“what do you want?” you asked, tossing your wet hair to one side.

“i’ll be up in a little, leave your door unlocked.” he cupped his hands around his mouth so you could hear him from the second floor.

⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

in the mean time you had slipped into your pajamas, a tiny white tank top and little red dolphin style shorts with white lining.

your hair still wet from the shower, you sat in front of the rustic vanity to begin braiding it before a quiet knock on the door pulled you away from the mirror.

chris slipped in through the door before shutting it quietly and locking it behind his back. he flipped the overhead light off, leaving you two in the shadows of the warm table lamp and the soft glow of the moonlight filtering in through the curtains.

“hey” he whispered, walking up behind you to press a kiss against your neck as you tilted your head to the side, looking at him through the mirror. his skin smelt of campfire smoke and weed.

“where’ve you been, playboy?” you laughed and reached a hand up into his messy hair, combing through his brown locks.

“i had to finish the j and find an excuse to come up here, i told them i’d be back in a little.” he muttered against your cool skin, his kisses making their way down the crook of your neck onto your exposed shoulders.

“speaking of playboys” he whispered, hooking his fingers around the straps of your tank top as you felt goosebumps at the touch. “lets film the happy ending, yeah?”

you let a quiet giggle out, as he tugged at the straps letting them roll of your shoulders. he left you with a kiss before walking back to the bed, sitting on the edge where he was earlier. you pushed your hair behind you and stood up, walking in his direction.

standing between his spread legs once again, he repeated his motions from the afternoon and slipped the pajamas you had off and onto the wood floor.

“naughty boy, been thinking about this all day?” you laughed while pressing a hand against his chest, gently pushing him back on the creaky bed. he pulled himself back up against the metal headboard as you crawled onto his lap, straddling his thighs between yours.

placing his hands on either sides of your thighs, he trailed a hand up your abdomen, taking your sensitive nipple between his thumb and index finger. you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand at his touch “you’re always so pretty, y’know that?” he whispered, ignoring your question, looking up at you while his fingers lingered over your body.

you nodded at his statement, pushing your hair forward over your perky tits as your nipples poked out through the wet hair that clung to your skin.

you leaned into his chest, pressing your lips against his, as his hands trailed up over your ass, squeezing at your skin between his fingers. the kiss was heated and slow before gradually turning hungry, as your tongues began to fight against each other.

you tugged his shirt up beneath you before he could pull it off over his head, tossing it on the floor as your hand palmed over his cock straining beneath the swim trunks.

you continued to lock lips as your hand teased him over his clothes. grabbing your hips between his hands, he turned you over and pressed your back against the bed in one swift motion.

standing up on his knees between your spread legs, he looked down at you and your pink bundle of nerves, aching for his touch. twiddling with the gold necklace lying against your chest, you tugged your bottom lip between your teeth as he leaned forward to push out saliva building in his mouth, trailing down your already wet folds. you winced at the feeling, slightly letting a quiet groan out as your head rolled back on the pillows.

he reached his hand forward to place on your pubic bone, as he rubbed his thumb out in circles over your sore clit.

your muscles twitched at the feeling, squeezing your eyes shut as you grabbed a handful of the sheets beneath you. chris looked up at you, your clit still under his thumb as a grin pulled at his lips “hm you like that, huh?” he groaned, palming his own pulsating dick while he watched you squirm beneath his touch.

chris quickly leaned over the side of the bed to grab the camcorder from the bag on the floor, opening the viewfinder once again. holding the camera in his hand, he pointed it up at your face currently flustered from the heat.

“time for your close up, movie star” he teased, leaning forward to gently slip two fingers into you as he pumped in and out slowly. curling his fingers upward, he watched as your back arched off the bed and zoomed out to get your whole body in the frame.

moving the camera down, he zoomed in on your pussy, letting a trail of saliva coat it again before rubbing his fingertips against you.

“tell me what you want” he groaned, looking up at you as you could barely speak from the anticipation building in your core.

“y-you, i want you chris” you groaned, now sitting up on your elbows to look up at him behind the camera.

“good girl” he cooed, the curve of his grin twisting father up his face. he shifted behind the camera, pulling his trunks down to reveal his throbbing dick, now the same veiny cherry red shade of the bomb pop.

taking it between his hand, he shifted the camera down to get his cock in the frame as he teasingly rubbed the tip against your soaking folds, both of your groans filling the silence. he continued for a moment, coating himself in your juices before lining himself up with your entrance. slowly pushing himself in, he watched his cock slide inside of you through the viewfinder, bottoming out as your walls wrapped perfectly around him.

“fuuuck” he groaned out, his eyes still on the camera as he used his free hand to push your thigh down farther on the bed. you quietly whimpered at the feeling as you adjusted to his size. the sound of your low moans, cicada hums, and ironically, the echoes of the train horn miles away breezing in through the window permeated the bedroom.

he looked down at you, while thrusting his hips slowly in rhythm. your skin sticking to eachother from the sweat as he zoomed out to get your entire body and his lower half in view.

“fuck, look at you.” he moaned, still pumping as you squeezed around his cock with every stroke. picking up his speed, he pressed his free hand between your lower hips over the slight bulge peeking through as he was in and out of your stomach, now drilling into you.

“you look so fucking perfect, taking my dick like that” chris moaned nearly out of breath, narrating your film with his low husky tone.

you reached above your head to wrap your fingers tightly around the metal headboard, squeezing until your knuckles nearly turned white. the mix of sweat and water had your baby hairs sticking to your skin as you took him. your face scrunching up, eyes closed, in euphoria at the feeling of him hammering into your cervix.

“look at me baby” chris growled as your eyes nearly rolled back in your head, the tightness in your stomach continued to build as he fucked you.

“fuck- chris, keep going” you whined, eyes welling up with tears as you looked at the camera through damp eyelashes.

“just like that pretty girl. i want to see your face when you cum all over me” he thrusted into you harder and faster, as your jaw fell open at the feeling, pornographic moans escaping as he slammed the back of your head into the headboard.

“harder baby” you whined, although you didn’t know how much harder than this it could get. you watched chris’ expression of concentration twist into a smirk “what do you say?” he groaned as the brown curls saturated in sweat began to stick to his forehead. “plea-” you gasped as he fucked the words out of your mouth before you could even finish, not needing to say much more as he evidently proved you wrong.

the tightened feeling in your stomach continued to build as he screwed you before you felt a long final strain rise in your abdomen. “oh my fucking god” you screamed out, your back now arched up off the quilt beneath you with a handful of sheets between your fingers. coating his cock in your white milky cum, you let out a whine as he pulled an orgasm from deep in your stomach, feeling your muscles flutter at the release.

although you had reached your climax, chris continued to thrust in and out, your arousal now lubricating his dick even more. his eyebrows furrowed with concentration, wrapping his hand tightly around your thigh to use as leverage.

“c-chris i can’t” you whined, gathering the strength to sit up on your elbows as you watched him pound in and out between your folds. your face scrunched up and lips parted, letting moans escape through your swollen lips. your stomach tensed at the feeling as your abs clenched, the position you were laying in causing him to hit the deepest part of you cervix, over and over.

“i’m almost there baby, c’mere” he moaned out, reaching up to grab your chin with his hand. he pulled your face towards his, smashing his hot lips against yours for a moment. “ where do you want me?” he groaned against your lips, leaning forward as he pressed his hand into the bed next to you to hold his weight “inside me, playboy” you moaned out, grabbing his face between your hands before reaching your fingers up to his hair to push the wet brown curls brushing over his eyes, out of the way.

he nodded his head, as he continued to thrust inside of you a few more times before his lips parted open against yours. “oh fuck” chris let out a low moan, his stomach and chest twitching as he released before he could stand to his knees once again. his thick, white, cum warming you inside as he filled you up.

he flowed through the motions a couple of more times before finally pulling out, sore at the sensation. he panted out of exhaustion, adjusting the camera between his hands as he shifted the focus down to your pink folds now leaking with his white seed. “jesus” he groaned low, zooming in on your pussy. “look at that” he admired the sight as you let a quiet giggle escape beneath heavy breaths.

he smiled, both of you equally out of breath as he shifted the camera up to your face now flushed a deep pink “there’s my girl” he whispered as you brushed the sweat and flyaways at the crown of your hair.

“come here” you murmured, sitting up to gently pull his chain towards your body. closing the viewfinder, he dropped the camera on the bed side table before falling on top of you. holding himself up with his hands on either sides of your body.

“you’re gonna delete that, right?” you giggled, looking up at him as a smirk played at his lips, shaking his head.

“oh absolutely not, i’d be fucking stupid to ever get rid of that.” he chuckled, leaning forward to press a warm kiss against your lips. “your name’s gonna be in lights after that performance.”

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: okay so this is my first story lmao, please let me know what you think! 🫣 my inbox is open & all interactions are so greatly appreciated. thank you! ⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

[indecentpause]

Find the Word

tagged by @winterandwords to find eat, drink, breathe and sleep! thank!

cw: homophobia/homophobic slurs, brief mentions of child abuse, suggestive

from The Black & Blues:

eat:

“So, hey, I can’t stay for too long because I’ve got to run to the store because I haven’t eaten a green thing in like. A week. But I’ll get in touch with you once I talk to Austin and you talk to Danny and we can figure out what works best for everyone.”

“You can invite Sara, too,” you offer. “If you three don’t mind cramming onto one of the beds. Danny and I can sit on the other.”

Kris grins. After a moment, it softens to a curious smile, and he asks, “What’s going on with you two, anyway?”

You freeze. Heat starts to crawl up your neck and you beg it to stop before it gets high enough for Kris to see.

“He’s my best friend,” you say.

Kris hikes an eyebrow and purses his lips. “Anything else?”

Your smile must turn a little sad when you say, “No,” because Kris makes a sympathetic humming sound.

“But you want him to be.”

drink:

By the time you take a shower and change into some real clothes–what should you wear? you think, and you decide on a shirt and jeans without any rips because you don’t own anything nice nice–it’s 11:00 AM. You have two hours. You’re going to leave at noon just to be sure, and because you’re going to have to walk about a half mile, so you want to have time to catch your breath and make yourself look acceptable before Josselin gets there.

So for the hour in between, you pace, and vibrate, and shake, and try to breathe. Danny stays with you to try to offer you encouragement. He tries to distract you with music and movies and weird Japanese 7-11 and coffee drink commercials he downloaded, but you can’t focus on anything. But finally, finally, the clock hits noon.

You wipe your palms on your jeans, trying not to hyperventilate. How on earth could Josselin think you of all people are cool? You’re a nervous, traumatized, mostly in the closet mess.

breathe:

Josselin swings his hand out toward yours, but doesn’t touch it. It swings back and yours follows, weaving your fingers together. The show and its audience tonight are a lot smaller than yours was, and the restaurants are at their peak, so everyone’s inside eating. Maybe someone will come out back for a smoke break or take out some trash, but if they’re on the clock, hopefully they won’t be stupid enough to try anything.

“I know a guy who does mixing and mastering,” Josselin says. “If you don’t have someone in mind.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, right now we’re gonna ask Jaisyn, but if he can’t do it, I’ll definitely hit you up for his number.”

Josselin slides his hands under your arms and around your back, palms on your shoulder blades. “Just for that?” he teases.

You chuckle, and even though it’s hard, and even though it’s scary, and even though your heart is beating a hundred miles a minute, you want it more than anything, so you push him up against the wall and kiss him like it’s the only thing keeping you breathing.

sleep:

The studio is beautiful. The mics are gorgeous. You just want to touch and sing solo into one of them forever, but you don’t have time for that.

You get off to a rough start and have to restart the first song a couple of times, but once you get into it, it gets easier. After you get the first three songs down, you start to realize what Jaisyn meant by tired ears. It’s different in-studio, where you re-record bits and pieces so you can get the best sound in your final mix. Once you hit your fifth song, you get into the flow of things, but every time you have to restart, you can’t help but think it’s because your over-exhaustion must be making you let everyone down.

You can do this. You have to do this. You’ve worked so hard to get here.

So you muster up every drop of fury and energy and sound that’s been buried deep in your chest from the moment you heard that first Green Day album when you were eleven, every lonely day at school and every night you cried yourself to sleep and every time your mother hit you and your father called you a faggot, and you force it out, and fuck, you do it. And it sounds awesome, even if two of your fingers are bleeding and you feel like you’re going to collapse by the end.

tagging @kaiusvnoir @oh-no-another-idea @magic-is-something-we-create and @riftversus to find sing, yell, cry, and morning.

[esamastation]

Roy doesn't know exactly when the new alchemist joins them on the field.

It's a bad time - they're establishing a new camp in the town and the area is under constant assault, it seems. Small strikes on all sides, seemingly from nowhere, taking out a man there, another there, crippling a truck, taking out a road… The Ishvalans are using some sort of network of tunnels, the brass thinks, and it's Roy's job to smoke them out. So that's what he's been doing, seemingly all week… smoking out the supposed tunnels.

There are no tunnels, though. The Ishvalans are just getting desperate and in their desperation they're figuring out new methods. They have home field advantage and new tricks of camouflaging themselves in the rubble that used to be their home. Ruins of a people, blending in the ruins the Amestrians had made of their houses. They're learning to live with it, to work with it, because it's all they have - and they're getting good because they have little choice in the matter.

No one is listening to Roy when he points it out, though. There's a dismissiveness to the higher ups, when it comes to the evolution of Ishvalan tactics. "What are they doing now, praying for better guns?" As though this war, hasn't already gone on three times as long as originally projected.

Roy is thinking about it, staring at a crooked, unlit cigarette someone had put into his shaking hands, when he's introduced to the new alchemist.

"Good news, Mustang," Hughes says, with absolutely no joy in his cheerful smile, and less so in his cheerful voice. It sounds like he's chewing charcoal. "You're getting partner."

Roy looks up, his mind still in the meeting room, thinking about numbers on a map, how they didn't quite capture the reality of charred skeletons. It takes a moment for what he sees in front of him to sink in.

Another blue uniform, still pressed sharp and bright new under the beige overcoat that's supposed to protect it and it's wearer from the dust and heat of Ishval. What stands before him isn't a soldier though - it's barely a man. It's a short blond boy, no older than sixteen at most, with heavy non-regulation boots and silver watch chain at his hip.

The horror and disgust that wells up it's barely a blip before it's smothered under, oh, of course, and shit, are we here already? Then Roy stands up, puts the unlit cigarette away and holds out his right hand.

"Major Roy Mustang - the Flame Alchemist."

The blond boy smiles, crooked and sharp and just as mirthless as Hughes beside him. "Nick Flamel - the Fullmetal Alchemist." His grip is tight and brief, his hand gloved.

He'd be the newest youngest State Alchemist then. Roy had heard his record had been beaten, though he hadn't really paid attention to who or how.

Hughes looks between them and for a moment his eyes show a certain desperation. Then he covers it up and pats Flamel's shoulder. "Fullmetal here is stationed under you until he gets a hang of things - you'll show him the ropes, teach him what's what."

Keep him alive, is what Hughes' eyes say, and no wonder. Being as young as he is, the kid can't have much in the way of training. Alchemists don't need to go through basic, after all - they're not there to march or shoot guns or stand in lines. Flamel had probably just gotten his watch, his uniform, and a one way ticket to Ishval. To one of the worst, most contested zones at that. Shit.

Did the brass send the kid here to die?

"What's your specialty - metallurgical transmutation?" Roy asks.

"I don't have a speciality, really," Flamel says and pushes his hands into the pockets of his overcoat. It doesn't quite fit him right - too wide across shoulders, a bit too long. They'd either left some growing room, or they just didn't have a uniform small enough. "But I'm damn good at environmental alchemy, which I figure is what I'll be doing the most around here."

Roy blinks. "Environmental alchemy," he repeats.

"I can make the battleground my bitch," Flamel says, his crooked smile sharpening.

And abruptly Roy is already exhausted with the kid. He's one of those, then, a cocky little sumbitch, top of his class and talk of the town, so used to being the top dog of his little bubble that he has no concept of what the real world is like outside that little bubble. Guys like him come swaggering in all the time, all big talk and smug grins, so sure they're going to be carrying their little superiority complexes spotlessly over the finish line that they walk into the first fucking landmine that comes across.

Roy sees himself holding the kid's hand after he gets gunned down, still thinking himself invulnerable, and it's exhausting.

"What?" Flamel asks, suspicious at his silence.

Hughes, giving the kid the exact same look Roy must be, clears his throat. "How about you show us?" he suggests. "So we'll have an idea what we're working with here."

Flamel arches a brow at that and then looks around, light brown - or are they burnished gold? - eyes narrowing in thought.

Their camp is still a mess from the last attack - they're fixing the fences and filling the holes in the road that got busted in the smattering of mortar fire from two days ago. The perimeter is more secure now, for a given value of secure. They'd chosen the highest spot in the town, the temple mount, to give them a high vantage point - better than being penned into a valley. It leaves them pretty damn open though.

Flamel looks over the houses they'd taken over, the tents pitched in the streets and the flag of Amestris hung over the prayer hall, and clicks his tongue. Then he claps his hands together, and crouches down.

For a split of a second, barely a blink, it looks like he's praying.

Then he slaps his hands on the street beneath their feet - and in a crackle of alchemical energy and rumble of displaced earth, the street reforms. The dirt flattens, grows perfect paving stones, shifts to form neat walkways on the sides, even forming gutters. Between one breath and the next, they have a perfect Amestrian city street, formed from the dust of Ishval, surrounded by Ishvalan buildings.

While the soldiers on the newly reformed street let out shouts of shock, Roy just stares, his mind trying to jump hoops figuring out how the kid just did that. Circles in his skin, under his sleeves, inside his gloves…?

Hughes whistles, hiding his wild eyes in a squint. "Nice. You know, it doesn't rain much around here," he comments.

"So?" Flamel asks.

"The gutters aren't really necessary."

Flamel looks at the street he'd made, hands resting on his hips, and shrugs. "Eh, can't hurt," he says and motions at the street. "Anyway, imagine that, but spikes instead of paving stones."

Roy swallows and looks at the kid, who's just standing there, seemingly in no way bothered. Fullmetal doesn't look smug or proud of what he'd done, only grinning a little bit at the way the soldiers throw away their shovels, no longer needed. If this isn't something for the him to even brag about, then…

Roy has in his head an image of the kid doing a field of spikes under a charging assault force, eviscerating people by the dozens, and it's clearly not Flamel's only trick. It's probably not even in his top five.

Fuck, the kid would end up with a three digit death toll by his first engagement.

"Right," Roy says. He isn't sure what his face is doing but going Hughes' expression, it's probably not good. "You can make gutters. How about trenches?"

Flamel grins, his eyes like molten metal. "Try me."

-

By the end of the week - no, by the end of the day their camp is hugely improved by Flamel. The fence is turned into a solid stone wall, constructed within minutes from the remains of bombed out houses. Another pile of rubble is turned into a watch tower. They have trenches, they have pits, Flamel even adds a moat and spikes around the camp, like they're in an ancient fortress or something. Hell, there's even gargoyles in the corners of the wall.

They go from one of the least secure camps to one of the most heavily fortified seemingly overnight. It's a huge boost to troop morale - not so for Roy's sanity. Flamel doesn't even look winded by the end of his improvements.

"How are you doing the circles?" Roy asks finally - bit of a social Faux Pas among alchemists, especially military alchemists, but he has to ask. Flamel made entire buildings, and he hadn't stopped to draw a single sigil.

"In my head," Flamel says, shrugging. Like that makes any sense.

Roy looks at him and then at the changes he's made, and can't say it's impossible - he can see the results with his own eyes. And they're more than impressive, they're…

Flamel isn't going to be here long, he realises. Whether the brass send the kid here to get rid of him or not, the moment word about Flamel's real abilities spread, he'd be snagged by the first general with any fucking sense. The kid's a powerhouse. Roy is too, of course, that's why he's here - but Fullmetal is a different kind of powerhouse. Just by himself, he would be able to establish a secure foothold in the middle of enemy territory and that's not someone you just let sit idle.

Roy looks at the kid and feels torn between feeling sorry, jealous and a little bit bitter. If only he was a bit higher in rank, he could keep Flamel and make a full use his abilities - and maybe keep him from becoming a mass murderer in the process.

"What was your exam like?" Roy asks. There's no way the kid showed even a fraction of these abilities, he wouldn't be here at all if he had. "How'd you end up with a name like Fullmetal?" From what he'd seen something like Earth Moving or Groundbreaking would've been more apt.

"I made a spear in my exam," Flamel says, not looking at him. "And pointed it at Bradley."

"... And they didn't arrest you?"

Flamel smirks a little and looks at him. "What did you do?" he asks. "I bet you scorched something."

Roy had. He'd been welcomed in on the spot. "Training dummies," he agrees, giving him a pointed look. "Because I don't have a death wish."

Flamel shrugs. "It got me what I wanted," he says and stretches his arms. "So, what comes next?"

Roy looks at their newly secure camp. "Depends on the Colonel, but I bet you'll be doing more road work. We need a clear path in and out of the town."

Even though the town is officially theirs, that doesn't stop the guerilla attacks - but now, with a secure camp, all they needed was a clear path for troops to move in and then it'd be only a matter of time. If the two of them weren't already reassigned by then, they'd be after the supply line was secure. Alchemists weren't wasted in safe stations.

"But that's tomorrow's problem," Roy decides. "Come in, kid - let's get something to eat."

- - -

Nostalgia is doing rounds in my brain.

[arrowflier]

I'd like to see Ian and Mickey celebrating their 20th anniversary? Being all mature and grown up and realising how lucky they are they're still in love after all those years x

Mickey woke up to a weight over his back, pushing him down into the soft pillow-top mattress. Lips touched the back of his neck, warm and dry, Ian’s breath raising goosebumps on his skin.

“Mmm,” Mickey hummed, rubbing his smile into the pillow. “Good morning, Mr. Milkovich.”

Ian chuckled, a gentle huff of air that moved the hairs on the back of Mickey’s head.

“Good morning to you, Mr. Gallagher,” he murmured back, voice husky from sleep, lips brushing down to Mickey’s shoulder. He pulled the strap of Mickey’s tank top to the side, pressed a kiss to the pale skin it revealed.

“Happy Anniversary, Mick,” he said, kissing it into Mickey’s body. Mickey arched back against him, getting a hand up to hold Ian’s where it still rested on his shoulder.

“Twenty fucking years,” Mickey said proudly, and pushed back until Ian rolled over, letting Mickey do the same.

He moved from stomach to side to back, letting Ian settle back in on top of him once they were face to face. Ian’s bare chest was warm through Mickey’s own shirt.

“Long time, man,” Mickey said softly, reaching up to card gentle fingers through Ian’s hair. It glimmered red in the faint sunlight coming through the curtains, shot through with a few paler streaks that Ian swore were blond, not grey.

“And longer to come,” Ian promised, his smile bright and sleepily content.

They lay there for a moment, watching each other blink, watching each other breathe. Then Ian sighed, and lowered his head, capturing Mickey’s lips in their first real kiss of the morning.

It tasted terrible, but they were long past the days of caring about stale morning breath. The innocent slide of mouths gave way to sucking kisses, chapped lips pulled gently between teeth, soothed with tongues. Ian pulled back with a wet sound, moved his mouth up Mickey’s jaw, and pressed searching lips to the space just under his ear.

Mickey hummed, eyes slipping closed at the warmth of the sensation. The bed was soft under him, Ian comfortable over him, and he wanted nothing more than to live in that moment forever.

Or at least for a little while longer.

Ian had other plans.

“Ready for your present?” he breathed into Mickey’s ear, biting the lobe as Mickey shivered.

“Never thought I’d say this,” Mickey muttered as Ian traced his tongue down the side of his neck, “but I think I’d rather go back to sleep for a bit.”

Ian laughed, burying his face in Mickey’s shoulder, breath cooling the trail his mouth had left.

“I don’t blame you,” he admitted easily, rolling off of Mickey again to lay at his side instead. His arm crossed Mickey’s chest, hand secure around his bicep. “Last night was a mess; I’m ready to sleep for a week.”

“Remind me never to let your daughter go to a concert again,” Mickey said plaintively, turning his head to face Ian’s on the pillow. “I don’t care if we’re supposed to be her safe space or what-the-fuck-ever, picking up a bunch of drink teenagers in the middle of the night is not my idea of a good time.”

“Please,” Ian said, “Like you’d ever tell your daughter no.”

Fair enough.

“But regardless,” Ian continued, “we don’t have too long before the girls are up, and I wanted to give you your present in peace.”

“Fine,” Mickey grumbled, putting on a show of being disappointed. He rolled onto his side, reaching for the drawer of the bedside table, but Ian whacked his hand before he could open it.

“Thought you wanted to give me my present?” Mickey asked, eyebrows raised, but Ian shook his head.

“Not that kind of present, you dolt,” he laughed. “We can do that later, once we have the house to ourselves.”

Ian’s face softened as he bit his lip, eyes darting away from Mickey’s for a brief moment before coming back.

“I, uh,” he said, scratching his chin. “I kinda got you something else.”

“We said we weren’t buying shit, Ian,” Mickey pointed out. “Between tuition and fuckin’ club dues, we ain’t got a lot to spare right now.”

“I know, but…” Ian shrugged. “We had enough for this.”

He leaned over, reaching long arms under the bed, squirming until he found what he was feeling for. With a twist of his shoulders, he was back up on the bed and tossing a small box at Mickey without aiming.

Mickey fumbled it, then snatched it back off the sheets before Ian could see. He turned it in his hands, suspicious, but the twitch of his lips gave him away.

“Go on, open it,” Ian encouraged, scooting closer. “I think you’ll like it.”

Mickey did, untying the tiny bow and lifting the lid off the box with no fuss.

“I went with the modern theme,” Ian told him as he looked inside. “Platinum. Thought that fit us a little better than fine china.”

Mickey didn’t answer, eyes caught on the glint of metal peeking out from under a scrap of cheap tissue paper.

“It’s supposed to represent how strong we are, together,” Ian said as Mickey lifted his gift out of the box, turning it over in his hands. “That we’ve made it this far, overcome shit.” His eyes were on Mickey’s hands. “That we’re still here to stay.”

Mickey held his gift up toward the window, letting the light reflect off the silver surface. Just a keychain, a little metal charm in the shape of a record dangling from a short chain. The word “Always” was engraved along the top curve, and at the bottom, the date of their wedding.

“It’s not really platinum, obviously,” Ian said, twisting the sheet between his fingers. “I couldn’t afford that even if I—”

“Ian,” Mickey cut him off. “Shut up. I love it.”

When their eyes met, Ian was beaming.

“C’mere, you sappy idiot,” Mickey ordered with his own broad grin, and Ian met him with a single, lingering kiss.

Mickey pulled away before it could become anything more.

“Got you somethin’ to,” he said, watching Ian’s eyes from inches away. “’Cept I figured you were the traditional sort, so…” He shrugged. “Guess what you get?”

“Sex?” Ian joked, and Mickey rolled his eyes, standing up and swinging his legs out of bed.

“Not quite,” he answered dryly, opening their closet door and fishing through the dirty clothes on the floor inside. He lifted a much larger box with a muffled oomph, and carried it over to the bed, where he let it fall a bit on heavily onto the mattress in front of Ian.

“Go on,” he started, but Ian hadn’t waited anyway, already tearing off the paper with eager fingers.

“Jeez, you’re like a fuckin’ kid on Christmas,” Mickey laughed, and Ian stuck out his tongue as he pried the cardboard box open.

Ian paused as the contents were revealed, the pushed aside bubble wrap and packing paper to lift out a single, dessert-sized plate.

It was fragile and white, plain in the center, with bursts of blue and pink along the outer, silver-plated edge. The colors swirled together into petals, shaped like—

“Stargazer lilies,” Ian breathed, and his eyes were wet when he lifted them. “Mickey, they’re beautiful.”

“Yeah, well,” Mickey hedged, sitting on the edge of the bed. “So are you, you soft fucker.”

Ian’s breath caught.

“Not the same theme as yours,” Mickey said, gesturing to the plate with a hand that still held his own gift. “But the ideas kind of the same, you know?”

He reached out, took the plate from Ian’s hands.

“You said the platinum was for strength; well this shit’s pretty fragile,” he continued. “But it stays good if you take care of it.” He looked up at Ian. “And we take pretty damn good care of each other.”

“You know that stuff’s not gonna last in this house,” Ian pointed out, voice choked. “We might take care of each other, but we take terrible care of our stuff.”

“Might not even make it through tonight,” Mickey agreed. He traced a finger around the rim of the plate, the flowers there. “But we’re gonna use it anyway.”

He turned, set the plate down on the bedside table, along with his keychain. Hoisted the rest of the box down onto the floor. “We can have nice stuff,” he said as he did, “but I ain’t gonna be one of those people that leaves shit in a cabinet gettin’ all dusty.”

“Nah,” Ian agreed, wiping his leaking eyes. “That really wouldn’t be us.”

Mickey smiled, and leaned in, kissing the corner of Ian’s eye and the happy tears lingering there.

“No it wouldn’t,” he said softly, and then his grin turned wicked.

“And speaking of using things,” he said, flopping down onto his back, arms spread wide. “We should use the rest of the morning to our advantage ‘til the girls get up.” He waggled his eyebrows, glorying in Ian’s wet laugh.

“Come show me what the next twenty years will be like, lover boy,” Mickey challenged.

And climbing over him with a toothy grin, all else forgotten in favor of getting hands on skin, Ian did just that.

[mypoisonedvine]

Side Effects | Bruce Banner x reader

summary: you never know what might be in the beakers at another chemist's station. you never know which of your colleagues might come along just in the knick of time to become the only antidote to your affliction.

word count: 3.6k

warnings: smut! (dub con due to sex pollen), semi-public sex (because technically someone could have walked by but unlikely), guilt/hesitance, kinda pining??, fingering, creampie,

a/n: yes, this is an accurate depiction of emergency shower protocol in a chemical lab and yes it is every lab technician's worst nightmare. thankfully the other stuff is not an accurate depiction of any known chemical, lol.

You wiped your forehead with a tired sigh, staring down at the calculations in front of you before using your pen to scribble over them before tearing out the page and throwing it away.

“You still do that by hand?” Bruce interjected, making you look up at where he was leaning in the doorway to the lab, watching you work.

“Oh, Dr. Banner!” you greeted with a smile, wondering if it was too ecstatic. You weren’t so good at the ‘playing it cool’ thing like he seemed to be.

“We have all those fancy screens and digital whiteboards, you know,” he explained as he stepped in and looked around at your work. “Not to mention the computer can do that stuff for you.”

“I know,” you scoffed, “but I always feel better doing it myself, on real paper. Not that I’m having any luck at the moment…”

"Here, I'll give them a quick look while you take a break," he offered, glancing at the numbers from over your shoulder. "You just get up and stretch your legs for a minute, doc."

You always thought it was sort of silly for him to call you that when he was a doctor as well, but you didn't complain.

Regardless, you were about to tell him that it was fine and you didn't need a break, but he was leaning in closer to take your seat and the proximity was so intimidating that you hopped up and went along with it anyways. He sat down and pondered your calculations while you circled the lab, taking a moment to appreciate how nice it felt to stand up and move around after sitting for so long.

"Your handwriting is…" Bruce trailed off, adjusting his glasses.

"Feminine and graceful?" you finished sarcastically.

"Sure," he chuckled.

"Yeah, just like me—" you started to quip, but mid-sentence you (ironically) stumbled and tripped, using a nearby table to catch yourself— but you accidentally grabbed onto a beaker, which tipped over and smashed onto the ground. The liquid inside spilled onto the floor just before you did, and you winced as you fell into the puddle of the unknown substance.

“Shit!” you hissed as you scrambled to get up, looking down at your clothes and seeing they were covered in the fluid, which was beginning to evaporate, or steam, or something. Remembering lab safety protocols, you instantly began to strip, closing your eyes and wishing Bruce hadn’t come in just before this. As you shirked your lab coat, shirt, and skirt, you walked to the emergency shower, pulling the lever and gasping when the chilly stream of water poured down on you. Bruce looked at you with wide eyes before being kind enough to turn around as you shivered and removed your bra and underwear, now completely naked and weakly scrubbing yourself with your hands in hopes that none of the chemical had gotten onto your skin.

“What is it?” he asked nervously, turning his head back enough that you could hear him over the flow of water, but hopefully not so much that he could see anything important.

“I don’t know,” you answered, “it’s not mine. It’s something Dr. Sutherland was working on…”

“Is it… are you in pain at all?” he asked, even more concerned, and you tried to decide if you could feel any effects.

“N-no…” you answered hesitantly. You felt hot, and strange, and you were covered in rolling chills, but you figured that was just the situation you were in— naked in a tepid shower in front of your coworker who just so happened to be incredibly sexy.

“I should call poison control,” Bruce offered as he reached for his cell phone.

“No, I’m fine,” you denied as the water flow slowed down and you wiped your face, confident that you looked like a complete mess— but at least you saved yourself from whatever was in that beaker, right?

“Here,” Bruce offered an emergency blanket to you after pulling it off a nearby shelf, and it was not at all absorbent but it helped with the draft as you stepped away from the shower which was still leaking the last few drops of water onto the drain on the floor.

“Thank you,” you nodded nervously, shivering and dripping and looking back at him with no idea what to say at all.

“Do you feel alright? I should check you for burns,” he suggested. “I— I won’t look…”

“Please,” you sighed, pulling the blanket a bit to expose your chest and stomach. He brushed his hand over the skin there, making you instantly whine as heat burned just under your skin, clouding your mind and making you crave even more.

"Did that hurt?" he asked anxiously, pulling away, but you stepped closer.

"No it's… it's good, it's so good."

He furrowed his brow as he looked down at you, putting the back of his hand to your forehead. "You're burning up, doc, you must be running a fever of 105."

"Touch me more, please," you whimpered. It was like you were in a dream, everything foggy and distant, and the only time that anything made sense was when he touched you. Or maybe it was that his touch sent you further into delirium; you couldn't be sure.

He gasped when he looked at your quivering legs only to find slick arousal running down the inside of them, threatening to drip onto the floor.

"Oh," he sighed.

"Please," you begged mindlessly, "Dr. Banner, I n-need you…"

"No, you need medical attention."

You whined and grabbed as his shirt, humming at the feeling of his warm skin just beneath. If the forearms that he often left exposed in rolled-up sleeves were anything to go buy, his chest was probably toned and tanned, lightly dusted with dark hair… you were all but drooling at the thought. "Please, Bruce… just help me," you pleaded, looking up into his eyes which were swirling with conflict.

"I can't," he shook his head. "I'd be taking advantage."

He must have seen the heartbreak of rejection make you wince, because he tried to soothe you with his hands resting on your arms— even just that contact making you suppress a moan.

"I've wanted this for so long," he explained, "and you— you haven't. You're unwell, you need to go to a hospital."

You sobbed a little at the idea of being taken away from him and examined by strangers, when you knew the solution was right in front of you. "No, no Bruce they'll touch me! Nobody can touch me but you, I only want you."

He scoffed, but you heard the weakness in it and you needed him to give in soon before you melted from your own hear. "You're deranged— delirious," he reiterated.

"It'll feel so good, please Bruce, I'll be so good for you— anything you want, I'll do it, I'm yours."

"Stop talking like that," he winced. "I can't… I can't."

"I need to feel you inside me, Dr. Banner, I need it more than anything. It's just gonna get worse… please, help me. I want you. I trust you."

"You'll hate me in the morning," he asserted. "God, this is so wrong…"

But much to your relief, he reached down and hesitantly slid his thick middle finger through your folds, gasping gently as he felt how wet you were. "I should t-take you somewhere private."

"No, need you now— right here," you pleaded, trying to chase his touch with your hips.

"But if someone came by—" he began to fret, glancing at the door; but his attention was turned back to you by your hands weaving into his hair.

"Nobody else stays this late, god, Bruce please I just need you so bad—"

He cut you off with a sudden kiss, which was enough on its own to make warmth bloom in your gut, but then he started to move his finger again and you shuddered with a moan that was muffled by his lips.

"Maybe I can make you come like this," he offered as he pulled back just enough to whisper to you, "would that help you? It'll take the edge off."

You bucked and moaned against his fingers, just those subtle touches driving you wild. "N-no, it has to be inside! You have to fuck me, I need your cock."

He breathed through his teeth, like he was almost considering it, but then looked away. "I can't," he shook his head.

"Can't or won't?"

He frowned. "Won't. I'll get you off with my fingers, otherwise it would be… too selfish."

"Bruce, I'm literally begging you for it," you sighed, the irritated tone that you'd intended lost in the moans he elicited by rubbing your swollen clit.

"I know," he winced, "I know and it's killing me that I can't give you what you're asking for… I swear if it wasn't like this…" he trailed off as you looked up at him with your bottom lip between your teeth.

"What would it be like?" you asked lowly. "Tell me how you would fuck me."

For all his shyness before, there was a brief switch in his demeanor as he leaned in, breath hot against your neck as he whispered, two fingers sliding into your channel at the exact moment that he spoke.

"So fucking hard."

You whimpered, knees wobbling a bit as you tried to ride his fingers— but he wasn't pushing back, wasn't giving you enough force to balance against when you sought more friction. "P-please, Bruce— I know you want to, please, please baby I need it so bad…"

"I know," he breathed, free hand cradling your face as his thumb stroked your cheek, and it was so needlessly compassionate, so effortlessly soothing that your heart had no choice but to clench at his tenderness. Other parts of you clenched as well, in much more literal ways, but the heart thing was more important.

You gingerly reached forward and palmed his cock through his pants, moaning when you felt how hard it was. "You're desperate, too," you informed him with a little smile. "It hurts, doesn't it? It aches."

"Yes," he answered tensely.

"I'm hurting too. I'm aching, for you. Please, Bruce, help me."

As he pulled back and examined your face, he chewed his lip and contemplated. He couldn't stand to see you in pain, but he couldn't comprehend what he had to do to help you. Well, okay, that's not totally accurate because he had actually "comprehended" the idea of making love to you plenty of times. But that was just a fantasy, a very misguided one that he only indulged in in his weakest moments. And in those fantasies, shockingly enough, you were always completed lucid and of sound mind and body. He sadly could not say that for you at the moment, and of course he couldn't because of course when you were sober and healthy, you didn't see him that way.

Bruce prided himself on his logic, his integrity, his patience. Suddenly, those qualities were falling prey to a much deeper, carnal instinct that saw this not as a predicament but as an opportunity. Logic states, after all, that it would be wasteful to have everything he wanted thrown into his lap and to let it go to waste.

"Fuck," he groaned as he kissed you again, fucking you faster with his fingers. You moaned and went for his belt, barely managing to open it with your hands shaking so much; part of you had considered just trying to rip the leather off of him, and with the force of your need it seemed almost plausible.

Finally getting his trousers opened just enough to reach inside, you purred as you reached in and navigated past his boxers to wrap your fingers around his hard cock. It was so thick and smooth and hot and you almost wanted to drop to your knees and take it in your throat right then, but you had better plans.

He pulled his fingers out of you slowly, grinning against you at the way you whined, before wrapping his arms around you and quickly instructing you to jump.

It was infuriating, how easily he caught you when you wrapped your body around him. Infuriating and so painfully sexy.

He never broke the kiss as he walked the two of you to your lab table, sliding the papers aside and onto the floor to set you on it. You started on his aggravatingly-small shirt buttons while he pushed his trousers and boxers down the rest of the way, and god his cock was right there between your legs, so close but very much too far away for your liking.

You didn't have the time or energy to get his shirt off, settling for just running your hands over the exposed skin instead. He grinned and watched the path your hands made, hissing slightly when they wrapped around his shaft— for a second you swore you could feel it throb.

"Don't make me wait anymore," you whispered your plea, sighing a little when he nodded.

"Okay baby," he agreed.

"Been waiting so long," you whined.

"Me too," he nodded, and with a little push, his cock slid all the way into you and filles you to the brim. Even when you were completely drenched, the girth of him was so wide that it stung, that it tore you open, but you loved it. Your head fell back and just from him being inside you, you came. The substance had you so needy and sensitive that that was all it took. It wasn't enough yet, of course. You knew you needed more. But God, he felt so good you could hardly breathe.

"Baby," you heard Bruce gasp, his fingers digging into your hips. Your chest twisted when he laughed a little, breathless and just teetering on the line between complimentary and mocking. "Did you just come?"

You considered playing dumb, but nodded instead.

His smile was apparent when he pressed his lips just below your ear to suck on the delicate skin there, his teeth trailing up to nibble your earlobe lightly. You hoped he would leave a mark, you hoped he would leave lots of marks that you could remember this by for weeks to come.

"Couldn't help yourself, huh?" he asked breathlessly, whispering so quietly you could barely hear it over the beating of your own pulse which echoed in your ears.

"You feel so good," you justified, "so fucking good, Bruce."

"You too," he sighed as he finally pulled back and slid into you again, the friction making your back arch instantly. "Even better than I imagined."

You smiled and wrapped your legs around his hips, forcing him to push deeper with each thrust. When he pushed you to your limits it felt like you might just fall apart right there, but it was so worth it.

As if that wasn't enough, he reached down and circled a thumb over your overstimulated clit, grinning down at you at the sight of you writhing and bucking wildly in his arms.

"Fuck!" you cried as you tightened your hands on his shoulders into fists hard enough to risk tearing through his shirt.

"Too much?"

"More," you pleaded instead, crying out when he gave you exactly what you wanted with fast, rough thrusts into your drenched walls. "Yes," you sobbed, "yes, fuck— m'gonna come, Bruce, gonna come again."

"Go ahead," he encouraged, voice so much rougher than normal, "show me how good it feels, baby."

It felt like his words were the thin that pushed you over the edge, as if your body somehow both understood and obeyed his command. You could feel a renewed wave of slick leak out from you, enough that you could hear the wetness in each slap of his hips against yours. His name was somewhere in the litany of curses and praises that spilled from your lips, your mind too clouded with hazy pleasure to keep track of what you were actually saying.

"Just like that," he groaned, "doing so good, fuck, say my name just like that every time I make you come."

An easy enough stricture to follow, especially when it seemed like he was all you could think about. He looked so different with his clothes half-shorn and his eyes dark with lust. He hadn't taken his glasses or labcoat off and you weren't sure which of those you were happier about.

His lips and hands were all over you; you couldn't even keep track of everywhere he was touching you, that's how overwhelming it was. "God, you're so fucking perfect," he groaned against your skin, finding a hardened nipple as his tongue explored you and wrapping his lips around it. "You are so goddamn sexy, you know that? I love seeing you with your legs spread for me like a needy little whore. I love hearing you moan and knowing I'm the one making you feel this good."

He took a moment to look at you and soak in your shocked reaction to his words before leaning in to continue.

"I love feeling you come for me," he purred in your ear.

"Then you're gonna really like what I'm about to do," you shivered.

"Yeah? You can gimme another one already?" he smiled. "Such a good girl…"

You really couldn't help it, it felt like everything he did only enhanced your pleasure— his words, his hands all over you, not to even mention his cock inside you. As much as the hedonistic corner of your brain was happy to let this go on forever, the ramifications of constant orgasms were finally catching up with you as you wondered how much more of this you could take.

"F-fuck, are you close?" you asked weakly. "Want you to come for me, Bruce, please."

"I-I'll pull out," he suggested, although the way he looked down at his length sinking into you and pulling back out, covered in your abundant arousal, didn't exactly indicate that he was willing and able to actually make good on his offer.

"No!" you yelped, pulling him closer by his unbuttoned shirt. "It needs to be inside, Bruce, please come inside me."

"Fuck," he hissed through his teeth.

"Please, Bruce, please, promise you'll come inside."

"I will," he sighed, "fuck, I will baby, I promise I'm gonna fill you up so good, you're gonna have my come so fucking deep inside you…"

"Yes!" you moaned, completely unabashed as the unknown substance had apparently absolved you of any shame whatsoever. "Yes, I want it, Bruce, I want your come."

The moment you felt his seed start to paint your walls, you felt relief begin to wash over you. Your mind and body relaxed, the overwhelming heat under your skin subsiding into a comforting warmth, the desperation that had burned in your gut satiated at last.

And that left you staring up at him in realization of what you had done, just as he looked back at you with the same.

"God, I'm so sorry—" he shuddered, moving to pull away. Instinctively your legs wrapped around his hips again, holding him close.

"N-no, wait," you groaned, "it's okay. Don't go."

"You don't hate me," he said, the exhaustion in his tone making it hard to tell if it was a question or a statement.

"Never," you sighed with a weak smile, sitting up to clutch his face and kiss him again. "God, Bruce, now I'm just wondering what took us so long."

"Our lab safety is just too good, clearly," he smiled as he kissed you again, pulling back a little too soon to examine your face where he held it in his hands. "Are you okay? You should still probably go to a doctor…"

"I'm already with a doctor," you smirked, "and his treatment was very effective."

"Yeah, that was…" he trailed off, wide eyes as if he were reminiscing about what had only just transpired.

"Sorry for being so… desperate," you cringed. "I didn't mean to… um… impose…"

He just laughed and kissed your forehead, making you feel your cheeks warm a bit; ironic that with everything that had just happened, this was what made you blush. "A beautiful, amazing woman that I've been dreaming about for months begs me to take her in the laboratory… really inconvenient."

"I mean, cleaning up these papers and the broken glass is gonna be pretty tedious, along with the incident report," you frowned.

"I'll help you with it," he offered.

"Tomorrow," you decided. "Right now, I'm taking you to my place."

"Is that so?" he asked with a bemused smirk.

"Yep. We both are in serious need of a shower, and then I wanna go again," you grinned wickedly.

"I thought you said you weren't feeling the effects of the chemical anymore," he recalled, voice tinted with concern.

"I'm not," you reassured, "I'm just feeling the effects of you."

[taestefully-in-luv]

The Island | KTH (Fourteen)

Summary: You’re just two strangers waking up in a room on a lonely island where a company in the business of love has placed you. They believe that thanks to their in depth research you two are destined soulmates. What happens when your ‘soulmate’ and you want nothing to do with each other but falling in love is the only way to leave?

Pairing: Taehyung x Female reader

Genre: strangers to lovers, very slight enemies to lovers, soulmates au, roommate au, slow burn, fluff, smut, angst, slight crack, and drama.

Word Count: 11.2k

Warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption.

Notes: This chapter took forever for me to write but then suddenly I wrote it very quickly hahaha. Please look forward to the last arc of the story. Enjoy the chapter:) Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist, or send an ask if just want to chat about the stories!:)

Taglist: @ggukkieland @707sblog @peacedreamer14 @dopedreamfireparty @taebae19 @typicalgenzworld @mooniyooni @helenazbmrskai @justinetingball @jpeachytaev @marplest @calling-dips-on-j-hope @lecavivien @fancycollectormoon @mawwnsterr @siredsong @happyhrsme @storms-and-stars-blog @mingi-banana @soeur-de-ame

© taestefully-in-luv

Previous---Next

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

“A long, sweet night.”

“A long, sweet night.”

“A long, sweet night.” You decide to repeat out loud. “What the fuck does that mean?”

Well, you know what it could mean. But there’s no way, right? You hold your phone close to your face, your features lit up with the dim blue light. Your eyes squint as you read over his text again and again.

You start to feel the crushing weight of his text, his words causing an undeniable pain in your chest. Your heart beginning to become chipped away piece by piece, each letter of his words cutting at it.

“Now you fight.”

Your mother’s words echo in your mind, her words making you grip your phone tightly in your hand. She’s right. If you don’t fight then you’re running away aren’t you? This is the point. This is the point she is talking about, this is the point where if you do nothing you are now a coward.

“You did the work honey.”

Yes, you did. Growth is forever but you’ve come a long way. You think you have done enough. You are enough. You have done so much and you deserve this, you deserve a happy ending. An ending you have worked for.

You sit at your dining room table, your phone in hand still. You finally click it off and set it down onto the wooden table, it lands with a thump but you don’t even flinch. There isn’t currently anything you can say to him. You have no response. You know that was the end of the conversation. But you know this isn’t the end. It can’t be. It won’t be.

You stand from the table and drag your feet towards the living room and head towards the couch. It’s cold when you plop down onto it, the cushion doing nothing to make you feel comforted. A long, sweet night, huh? Well, you don’t want this sweet night to end.

~~~~~~

“y/n you’ve apologized like 8 times already,” Marcus chuckles, “You don’t have to say sorry anymore.”

“I know, I know.” You bring the croissant to your mouth and take a generous bite. “I really didn’t mean to run out on you though.”

It’s early the next morning, you are treating Marcus to breakfast as a way to apologize for running out on him the night before. He’s kind and understanding as usual.

“So you ever really going to explain?” Marcus murmurs as he takes a sip of his coffee.

“Explain?” You peak over the croissant, your eyes finding his. “Explain what?”

“Come on.” He sets the coffee mug down, “Him. Tell me about the guy who…you know, has your heart or whatever.” Marcus looks down at his hands that are firmly gripping the mug, his cheeks turning a nice, soft pink.

“Oh.” You say, “That.”

Your eyes lower until they are set on the floor, you notice little things like the cracks in the tile. You finally bring the croissant back to the plate on the table, it’s half eaten state taunting you.

“Well,” your eyes find Marcus, “That’s a long story.” You admit softly.

“You gave me a very brief explanation the night I asked you out,” Marcus blinks at you, “But I don’t really understand the…depth…I guess you could say.”

“I kind of told you about the island…” That’s where you decide to start, “But I barely got into my trip to Korea.”

“Right.”

“Well, things didn’t go as smoothly as I had wanted.”

“Are you in love y/n?” Marcus turns redder than a ripe tomato. “You don’t have to an—”

“Yes.” You tell him bluntly. “I am.”

Marcus looks taken aback for a moment, his expression slightly surprised until it’s softening.

“I see. Well, it’s not like I didn’t know. But you two aren’t even talking right?”

“Right.” You admit, your breathing picking up just the slightest. “Barely, anyway.”

“He’s an idiot.” Marcus lets the words spill out between his lips.

“Why is that?”

“I just…I wouldn’t ever let…I would never let you go.” Marcus’s blush deepens as he avoids your eyes now. You can’t help but let a small somewhat pitiful smile paint itself on your lips.

“Well…” you bite down on your bottom lip, “It isn’t that easy.”

“Why not?” Marcus shakes his head. “If he really loved you—”

“Sorry Marcus.” You cut in. “But I think you are overstepping a little bit…”

Marcus scrunches his brows together.

“How so?”

“You don’t know the full story or his perspective.” You tell him, your eyes going back to the floor. “I’m not perfect in this.”

“You are perf—”

“No.” you say sternly, your hard eyes going back to his. “I’m not.”

You push the plate forward on the table, the sound of it gliding against the wood making you shiver.

“You just don’t…you don’t know what I put him through…” you say bitterly, “It wasn’t kind of me, I wasn’t perfect, I wasn’t the best, I wasn’t a lot of things. But I have accepted that and moved forward with that.” You tell him honestly.

“Shouldn’t he try harder…if he loves you?” Marcus raises his voice just the slightest, “If.”

“I don’t know how he feels anymore.” You feel yourself grow tired from this conversation, “But it doesn’t change things.”

“Sorry y/n.” Marcus looks down at his hands again. “I shouldn’t…I shouldn’t have brought this up—”

“I talked to him last night.” You blurt out. “I want to see him. I want to try.”

“But why?” Marcus is growing tired as well. It’s clear he isn’t seeing things the way you do.

“Because he’s my soulmate.”

~~~~~~~

You lay on your stomach, the soft feeling of your bed making you feel so warm. Your phone is in your hands as you struggle to press the ‘call’ button. It shouldn’t be such a big deal, it’s just Yuna yet you are having a hard time.

“Come on y/n.” you whisper to yourself. “Come on.”

You nibble on your lips, waiting for your fingers to find the courage to press the god damn button. It shouldn’t be this hard, no. If it’s meant to be it should be easy.

You press the ‘call’ button and wait not so patiently as it rings and rings on speaker. She’s taking too long, you think. Then finally—

“y/n!!!” Yuna exclaims loudly, her voice booming throughout your small room. “What’s up girl!”

“Yuna…” you hesitate to say her name, “Your birthday…two weeks…”

“Yes?” She tilts her head to the side through the camera. “It is?”

“Is that offer still on the table?” you gulp. “For my flight.”

“Huh? You mean to fly you out here for my b-day?”

“Yeah…” You gulp again, “If it’s okay—”

“Wait!” Yuna yells out with an excited smile, “Jiwoo, get over here!!!!”

“Jiwoo is with you too?” You can’t help the small smile. “You should have said something.”

“Jiwoo! y/n wants to come for my birthday!”

“What???” Jiwoo’s voice is heard, “Eh?”

“y/n..” Yuna points the camera at her mouth, her lips curving into a wide smile. “You really want to come here?”

You nod your head eagerly, a timid expression on your face.

“I do. I want to see you and celebrate you, of course…but I also…” your words get quieter and quieter as you speak.

“You want to see him, don’t you?” Yuna asks softly, “I’m rooting for you.”

“Me too!” Jiwoo says with her fist in the air, “You got this!”

“Guys.” You whine cutely, “Thanks.”

You chat with your friends for a little while longer, you tell them all about Taehyung’s song and his words to you through text.

“It’s definitely not the end girl.” Yuna pouts, “You guys still have so much more to give…”

“It sounds like your mom really came through too…” Jiwoo points out, “She makes a good point.”

“Yeah,” you agree easily, “I just have to figure out where Taehyung stands in all of this.” You look down at the duvet that covers your bed. “I’m going to really put myself out there but there is a chance I will be rejected.” You tell them with a softness in your voice. “He is moving forward and that could really mean without me.”

“I hate to admit it but I think you are right.” Jiwoo murmurs, “He’s really put a lot of effort to move past everything.”

“I know.” You bite down on your lip, just hard enough that you feel something. “I know.”

“But don’t lose you momentum girl!” Yuna cheers you on, “He’s going to lose his mind when he sees you.”

“You think so?” You laugh lightly. “I think I might be the one who loses my mind.”

You swing your legs in the air back and forth until you lay them down on your bed. You nibble on your lips again as you think about it, seeing him. “Yeah. I’m going to lose it.” You laugh again.

“He hasn’t RSVP’d to my party yet…I’ll ask him about it this week when we all go out.” Yuna tells you with a tiny smile on her lips. “I won’t say anything about you coming.”

“Thanks…I’ll tell him myself.”

You finally bid farewell to your friends, clicking the end button on your screen and setting your phone down on your cozy bed. You’re really doing this. This is really happening. Does he really believe you two were just ships in the night? Was your time together really just the equivalent of a long, sweet night?

You roll off your bed and head towards your desk, you pull out your rolling chair and take a seat. Your desk is covered in papers from work, your journal, small decorations, a pile of glittery gel pens and a half drank Starbucks drink. It’s kind of a mess. You decide to clean up a bit and then take your journal and a purple glitter pen and start writing.

“Time and timing is everything in this universe. Everything pans out the way it’s meant to…I do believe that. I have to believe that. I have to have that kind of faith. But I can’t just stand by and let the universe do all the work, can I? I should put some level of effort too…right? Is time in my hands?”

You stop writing, the pen staying still, bleeding its purple ink into your paper. Is time in your hands? You bring the pen to your lips and chew on the end, your teeth digging into the plastic.

“Is it?” you repeat out loud.

~~~~~

Wow, you haven’t felt this nervous in a while. Your nerves are absolute killers right now. They are shaking you to your death and throwing you over a cliff, they are slapping you in the face repeatedly, they are making you feel so completely helpless.

Your hand trembles furiously as you hold your stupid phone, your whole body is vibrating in terror. You fly out in the morning and you haven’t told Taehyung that you are going to Korea yet. He has no idea that you two will be breathing the same air soon. You try your hardest to take a few deep breaths but you fall short, your breathing quick and sharp instead.

The boys promised not to say anything and you’re counting on it. Jimin is on the verge of tears from his excitement, he’s been waiting for you to visit for the past year. Jungkook is anticipating your arrival as well, his bunny grin imprinted in your mind when you told them you for sure were going. The rest of the guys cheered and sent you a million texts about how happy they are. Everyone knows about your upcoming arrival…everyone but him.

After staring at his message thread for what seems like an eternity you finally decide to chicken out. You click your phone off and throw it on your sofa, it slides against the cushions and somehow falls between the cracks. But you don’t care. You’re happy your phone is out of sight.

You decide to take a walk in the city, the evening air is brisk and the sky is glowing in pinks and purples. You tug your jean jacket closer together as you walk through a cool breeze, it feels nice actually. Like you can breathe again. Your phone is still lost between your couch cushions and you couldn’t feel happier about it.

You decide to stroll around until you find yourself at Cozy Coffee, the shop making you feel welcomed and at home. You head to the counter and order a latte, the warm drink making you melt into some slightly pathetic puddle. Only pathetic because at the end of the day you know you are just avoiding what you must do. But somehow you approve. You just want to enjoy this evening before your trip to Korea. You have no idea what this trip might hold. You have no idea of the experiences you will encounter. You just really have no idea.

You sip on your latte in the corner of the shop, your mind starting to ease as you down your drink. Are you really prepared for this? Are you ready to face him? To be honest, you haven’t even thought about what you might say…you just know the first step is seeing him. Face to face.

You finally head back to your apartment, the sky now lit up by the illuminating moon, guiding you on your path. You feel relaxed again, the moon giving you peaceful energy. You know this feeling is only temporary so you try to embrace it.

Your apartment is chilly inside, the air matching the air from outside. You head towards the thermostat and turn it up a few degrees. You rub your arms in attempt to warm yourself as you head towards you sofa, you look at it with disdain as you remember your phone hiding in its cushions.

You take a deep breath and lift one of the cushions up and search for the damned thing. Your hand finds it and you throw it on the other side of the sofa as you place the cushion back in its place. You finally take a seat and reach for your phone, you take another deep breath as you click it on, seeing you have a missed called from Jimin and also your mother.

You decide to call your mom first, you video chat her right away, waiting for her to answer.

“Hi sweetie.” Your moms voice comes through your phones speaker. “I tried calling a little while ago.”

“Sorry…” you mumble lamely. “What’s up?”

“I know you leave for your trip tomorrow and just wanted to see how you were doing.”

Your mouth opens a little…like you are going to speak but really it’s just from the pleasant surprise you are feeling from your mothers words. The past couple of weeks you two have been chatting more and more.

“I feel…” you feel your body tense, you try to take a deep breath but it feels mostly impossible. “Mom.” Your bottom lip begins to tremble, “I’m scared.”

“Things like this are scary honey.” She breathes out, her eyes soft and on you. “But you aren’t living life unless you are taking leaps of faith.”

“There is a strong chance he won’t want me.” You tell her, your breaths shaky. “Can I handle that?”

“Honey…” Your mom closes her eyes for a second before they’re back on you. “You can handle anything. I believe that. I know in the past…it might not have seemed that way but you’ve grown so much. You are so strong y/n. And I know you want to make things work…” she pauses as you try to calm your breathing, you are trying not to cry. “But…” your mother continues, “But you are complete on your own too. And you will find some epic love or whatever no matter with who. You deserve it so therefore you will have it.”

“He’s my love, mom.” You finally feel your eyes wet with tears. “He’s been my biggest supporter this whole journey and he doesn’t even know it.”

“Well y/n.” your mom exhales through her nose as she smiles for you, “It sounds like you have an important mission for this trip. I hope you really convey your feelings and most importantly…I hope you listen as well. Really listen. Listen to his thoughts and feelings too and be considerate.” She softly advises you. “Communication really is key.”

“I know…” you sniffle.

“Did you know…” your mother hesitates to continue, she exhales a long breath before setting her lips in a firm line. “Your father and I were close to divorcing around the time you were born.”

“Wait what?” you blink at the screen, feeling caught off guard.

Your mother slowly nods her head and closes her eyes.

“We just…didn’t feel like we were on the same page anymore. I didn’t know what he was thinking anymore and he had no idea what was going on in my mind either.”

You pull your brows together as you listen intently, your mom’s words making you feel a little anxious.

“We just didn’t click anymore, it felt like. We were struggling financially at the time and you were…an unexpected surprise. It truthfully further strained our marriage…” she tells you honestly. “But we loved you so much. It was the only thing holding us together.”

“How did you work things out?” you ask quietly.

“We talked. Really talked. I remember we went out on the patio after we put you girls to sleep and we just finally looked at one another and knew we had to have…you know, an important discussion.” She takes a moment to breathe evenly. “I finally let it all out…I told him about how lonely I had been feeling, I told him how I missed him…he was working a lot you know…I told him I just wasn’t happy anymore.”

You feel your heart ache a bit at her words, you never knew this about your parents.

“He ended up crying…nodding his head over and over and telling me he knows how I feel. Because he was feeling it too. The disconnect was hurting the both of us.”

“I had no idea…” you admit, still sniffling. “You and dad always seemed so…okay, all the time.”

“We didn’t want you girls to ever worry. Your father and I have shared bumps in the road but we found a way to cope. We expressed ourselves honestly, the vulnerability creating a closeness I cannot even begin to describe.”

“So you are saying…me and Taehyung—”

“You need to share everything…really everything. This is how you truly move forward.”

“Thanks for sharing that stuff about you and dad…”

“I want to help any way I can honey.” She smiles a smile you rarely see on her, it brings you automatic comfort. “Get some rest and let me know when you land. Goodnight.”

You agree and say your goodbyes to your mom as you both hang up. You sit on your couch still sniffling as you think deeply about what your mother shared with you.

After a few minutes you decide to clean your face with your sleeve and call Jimin back. The ringing only goes on for a second or two before he’s picking up.

“He isn’t going.” Jimin huffs on the video chat. “Said he isn’t in the mood to party.”

“Huh?” you blink at Jimin a few times before you’re realizing. “Oh.”

“You need to tell him you’re coming then maybe he will change his mind…”

“Yeah y/n!” You hear Jungkook yell over the phone, “tell him already! It’s killing me keeping this from him.”

“Well, first of all, hi guys.” You wave at the camera. “Second…” you chew on your lips. A horrible habit of yours, you know. “I will tell him when I get there.” You mumble.

“Oh my god, are you fucking kidding?” You hear Jungkook groan. “Just do it now.”

“Chill!” Jimin scolds Jungkook, “But he’s kind of got a point y/n…”

“Trust me…just let me tell him when I get there. Also, Jimin.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re sure it’s fine that I stay with you?” you look into his eyes through the camera and you see his thick lips curve into a wonderful grin.

“Of course my bff.”

“I want to stay over here too…” Jungkook grumbles, he finally shows himself on screen. “We can all have like a …slumber party or whatever.” His eyes slide to the side as he grows red with embarrassment.

“A slumber party?” Jimin begins to tease, “What are you, a 12 year old girl?”

“I happen to like the slumber party idea.” You nod your head approvingly.

“Seriously though y/n.” Jungkook’s eyes find yours. “Tell him you’re coming.”

“I will, I will.” You wave him off, “I’ll send a text before I fall asleep or something. Happy?”

“Yeah, a bit.” He smirks at you. “Right, Jimin?”

“Yeah.” Jimin grins again, “I’m really hoping for the best, girl.”

“Me too guys…me too.”

~

You double check to make sure you’ve packed everything for your week long trip, you then triple check just to be sure. You feel anxious again but somehow you feel okay at the same time. You think the talk you had with your mom kind of helped you.

You had no idea she and your father shared such “bumps in the road” as she had mentioned. Is talking it out really such a magical solution? Will you and Taehyung really be able to share everything…like everything, everything?

You take one huge deep breath as you pull your phone out…you find Taehyung’s name and begin writing your text.

y/n 9:04pm

I’ll be in korea for Yuna’s birthday. Will I see you there?

You quickly click your phone off and toss it to your bed and squeal. Yes, squeal. You finally did it. Now you wait for a response.

~

It’s 6 am and you are sitting on your flight waiting for takeoff, you stare at your screen as you see the fact that Taehyung read your message several hours ago. He left you on read. You could honestly throw up. You’re anxious all over again.

~~~~~~~

“You belong here!” Jimin is squeezing you so hard it’s almost crushing your very bones. “Just move here already.” He whines into your neck as he continues to embrace you. “Please.”

“My turn…” Jungkook huffs, “I said my turn!”

“Patience, brat.” Jimin teases as he leans away from you, his hands still on your arms. “So how was your flight?”

“You’re really going to try to have a whole conversation with her before I get to hug her? Really dude?” Jungkook shoves Jimin to the side before his arms wrap around you. You return his hug with your own arms circling his tiny waist.

“You missed me, Jungkook?” you inhale his scent, he smells of fresh laundry.

“Whatever.” He grumbles with a toothy grin. “So,” he pulls away from you and gestures you to come inside Jimin’s place. “How was the flight?”

“Long as hell. I’m glad to finally be here.” You walk through, setting your luggage in his walkway. “And I am so damn hungry.”

“Well, we can definitely order some food.” Jimin cheeses, “How does that sound?”

“Sounds perfect.” You take your shoes off and walk further into Jimin’s home. “Smells good in here.” You comment nonchalantly.

“I lit some candles before you got here.” Jimin scratches the back of his neck, “Wasn’t sure if you would like the scent so I blew them out.”

“No, no. I like it.” You find your way into his living room, his black leather sofas taking up much of the space. You find a spot near the window and take a seat.

“So, did you even tell Taehyung? We saw him earlier today and he didn’t say anything so I am assuming you didn’t tell him.” Jungkook says with a serious tone.

“Actually I did.” You pick at your nails, but raise your head as to not look bothered.

“Wait…really? He didn’t say anything?” Jimin questions with the tilt of his head.

“He left me on read.” You say as plainly as possible. “Guess he doesn’t want to see me.”

“He…he left you on…” Jungkook looks over at Jimin, their eyes meeting with curiosity. “But he….?”

“Yup.” You go back to picking at your nails, trying your best once again to look unbothered.

“Well!” Jimin claps his hands together, “What should we eat?”

A few hours pass, night time quickly approaching. You, Jimin and Jungkook wait for Yuna and Jiwoo to arrive at Jimin’s place. You three drinking soju, giggling while resting on the sofas when you hear knocking on Jimin’s front door.

Jimin hurries to answer when you hear the voices of your two friends echoing lightly throughout the place. Yuna appears first, she rushes to your spot on the couch, jumping on you and quickly embracing you. You can’t help but laugh out loud, inhaling her sweet, sweet scent as you two hug one another. Jiwoo joins you both by sitting next to you and wrapping her arms around you.

“H-Hi Jiwoo.” Jungkook quickly stands up when Jimin is coming to his side and nudging his shoulder.

“And Yuna.” He reminds him with his teasing voice.

“Right.” Jungkook clears his throat. “And Yuna. Hi.”

“Hey.” Jiwoo replies cooly, “You guys started drinking without us?”

“You guys took too long!” You slur happily. “We only have had a little, little.” You show her how little with your pointer finger and thumb.

“Sure Miss Drunkie.” Jiwoo laughs, “Yuna I think you can let her breathe now.”

“One more minute!” Yuna rubs her face on your shoulder as she continues to hug you. “Missed my y/n!”

“Yuna!” you giggle. “You have 5 more seconds!”

“Fine.” Yuna pouts dramatically, pulling off you. She sits on your other side and smiles up at you. Her hair is still a pale pink and her eyeshadow is a glittery art work. You look over at Jiwoo with her jet black hair, it’s gotten even longer.

“It’s good to see you guys.” You chirp, “And oh my god, two more days until your birthday!” you point at Yuna excitedly.

“I can’t believe your dad is letting you have your birthday party at the Mondrian.” Jimin takes a seat on the other sofa with Jungkook. “That place is so nice.”

“I’m spoiled.” Yuna sings, “So spoiled!”

“At least she admits it.” Jiwoo deadpans.

You start giggling some more, reaching for another shot of soju. You down it back and smack your lips in satisfaction.

“Yummy!” you sway into Yuna and Jiwoo. “You guys want to play a game?”

“Like what?” Jungkook asks. “I think Hobi said he wants to swing by.”

“Oh! Yay.” You chirp happily, “Can the rest of the guys not make it?”

“We’re meeting with everyone tomorrow Miss impatient.” Jimin takes his own shot of soju.

“But I want to see everyone now.” You jut your lip out. “Jungkook!” you stand up and stumble to where he’s seated. “Call em and tell em to come here. Now.” You plop down next to him. “Pretty please.” You lean into his shoulder and smile for him. Jungkook turns nice and rosy before he’s lightly pushing you away.

“You have to wait y/n.” he reminds you, avoiding your intense gaze.

“Jungkookie.” You whine, “I said pretty please.”

“Wow, she is drunk.” Jiwoo chuckles, “I love it.”

“Same.” Jimin’s eyes turn to crescents as he grins. “She is so…free.” He says quieter, “She’s changed so much.”

“Jungkookie!” You lean into his space again, your big eyes blinking up at him over and over until he’s groaning.

“Fine!” he throws his hands up, “Who should we call first?”

You end up calling the rest of the guys and chatting for a while, your drunken state only worsening. But it’s nothing but a good time. Jimin ends up tucking you in his kind size bed, he brushes the hair out of your face and watches you fondly as you snore in your sleep. He’s so proud of you. Jungkook walks into the bedroom as well and he shares a knowing look with Jimin and Jimin’s smile fades into a frown.

“Want to have a beer on the patio?” Jungkook nods towards outside the room.

“Sure.” Jimin takes one last look at you before he’s leaving you to sleep. Jimin and Jungkook walk past the sofa where Yuna and Jiwoo are knocked out, cuddling each other for warmth. They make their way outside and take their seats on the patios chairs.

“So.” Jungkook pinches his brows together, “He didn’t say anything to us.”

“I know.” Jimin’s frown only deepens. “He’s probably taking his time to process her arrival, you know?”

“Is it that simple?” Jungkook brows pull together even further. “He’s doing so well and maybe he…”

“He just needs time Jungkook. I know him.”

“I know him too Jimin and he acted like she didn’t reach out to him? That’s not…I don’t know, concerning to you?”

Jimin stares straight ahead, bringing his beer to his lips. He takes a few gulps before facing Jungkook.

“Yeah.” He admits. “It is.”

~

The next morning is horrific, the hangover you have is probably literally killing you. Your head is absolutely pounding and your body feels weak. But you have to admit the sheets in this bed feel amazing so you are tempted to stay here forever—or at least until this killer hangover disappears.

“y/n. It’s like 2pm.” You hear Jungkook’s voice hammer in your ears. “Get up!”

“Nooooooo.” You groggily whine, pulling the sheets up over your head. “Want to stay here forever.”

“Brought you some water girl.” Jimin’s angelic voice is heard, he’s gently pulling the sheets down and exposing your tired as hell face.

“Drink it slowly.” He sweetly advises, “And here’s some pain killers.” He hands you two pills and you eye him up before taking them gratefully.

“Thanks…” you murmur. “Holy hell, soju is no joke.”

“Yeah.” Jungkook laughs. “But you hung in there!”

“Where are Yuna and Jiwoo?” you pop the pills in your mouth and drink back some water. The refreshing beverage already making you feel a little more alive.

“They left hours ago!” Jungkook continues to laugh, “You slept through it.”

“Damn.” You grumble, “Wait!” you suddenly raise your head up. “Aren’t the guys getting here at 3 today?”

“Yes.” Jimin smiles, “So maybe you want to shower….and get ready.”

“O-Okay.” You agree, you pull the sheets back off your body and rise from the bed, the room starts to slightly spin and you whine. “I am not drinking this much ever again!”

“You say that now. But Yuna’s party is open bar so.” Jungkook winks.

You gag just at the thought of drinking more alcohol. You drag your feet towards Jimin’s bathroom and your hand reaches for the shower knob and you turn it on, letting the water warm up.

“Okay, I’ll get ready! You two shoo.”

The shower is exactly what you needed, the warm water making you feel relaxed and comfortable. You’re grateful that Jimin is letting you stay at his place for a whole week…you really wish you saw them more often. You really wish you lived here sometimes.

You admittedly love it here…you enjoy your life back home too, don’t get it wrong but something about this place that feels so fitting.

“Almost done in there?” You hear Jimin softly knock on the bathroom door. “Jin says they’re on the way.”

“Be right out!” you call back out. “Almost done.”

You take a look in the mirror and you think to yourself about how nicely you clean up. You got some ripped jeans and a black long sleeve shirt, some light make up and two clips in your hair. You look cute as hell actually.

“Okay. Time to see my friends.” You give yourself an awkward thumbs up in the mirror before you’re chuckling. “Should I practice my Korean on them?” you ask out loud. Then you nod your head and give yourself another thumbs up before you step out of the bathroom, walk through Jimin’s room and enter the living room.

“About time lady!” Jungkook snickers, “What the hell were you doing in there?”

“You shouldn’t ask a girl that!” Jimin swats Jungkook’s arm. “Feeling better y/n?”

“Loads!” you walk towards them and find a place on the couch. “Are they almost here?”

Suddenly, there’s excessive knocking on the front door. You three whip your heads in the direction and you jump up in delight. You race Jungkook to the door and swing it open and as soon as you do so many arms are reaching out to hold you.

“y/n!!!!” Hobi is the first to wrap his arms around you so tightly, he sways your bodies back and forth. “I missed you so much.” He finally lets go when Jin is automatically pulling you into his chest.

“Your favorite one is here now.” He jokes as he squeezes your smaller body.

“Uh have you guys ever stayed up all night on the phone sharing writing tips for hours? I don’t think so.” You hear Namjoon say teasingly. “Come here you.” He’s dragging your arm until your body is being engulfed by his. “About time you visited.”

“Hey, we don’t have any say on y/n’s timing to come here. What matters is that she is here now.” Yoongi stands to the side, waiting for his turn. “But I would like a hug too.” He smiles that gummy smile and you giggle. You leave Namjoon to give Yoongi a tight embrace, he rocks your bodies back and forth before he’s letting go altogether.

“Good to see you y/n.” he says.

“You too. All of you.” You look at the boys, “You have no idea how much I missed you guys. Talking through the phone just isn’t enough, is it?”

“You could always move here.” Hobi offers with a teasing smile. “But you know that already.”

“She does know that!” Jungkook yells over the chatter. “But she’s a scaredy cat.”

“Hey.” You pout towards Jungkook. “Am not.”

“Then move here.” Jimin gives you his best sly smile, “You can live with me.”

“As tempting as that sounds,” you giggle, walking into the kitchen with the guys following behind you.

“Ah y/n, I think your phone is ringing.” Jin points towards the device on the counter. “Should I answer it?”

You raise your brows and head to the counter to see who is calling. Marcus.

“Oh hold on, let me take this.” You announce to everyone before answering your phone,

“Hello?”

“Hey. Just wanted to check in on you.” You hear Marcus’s raspy voice on the other end. “How is it?”

“Good, good. The flight was good. I’ve just been hanging with everyone. Actually I’m with everyone now…can we talk later?” you mumble into the phone.

“Oh.” Marcus chuckles, “Sure. Call me later?”

“Yeah.” He hears the smile in your voice. “I’ll call you later.” And then you’re quickly hanging up, bringing the phone back to the counter. It’s oddly quiet in the house.

“What?” You ask with big eyes, blinking at everyone. They all give you a curious look before you scoff.

“He’s just a friend.” You say sternly. “So stop whatever ideas your guys are all getting in your silly little heads.”

“Just friends….” Namjoon nods his head slowly. “Right.”

“I’m serious.”

“She’s ‘serious’ mhm.” Jungkook nods his head mockingly. “Right.”

“I am!” you groan, “Seriously.”

“She said they’re just friends, guys.” Yoongi puts a hand on your shoulder, “Right?”

“Right.”

“Right.” Jin nods his head quickly.

“Right.” Hobi gives you a thumbs up before he’s giving you one of his signature grins.

“Well,” Jimin comes up to you and reaches for your hand and squeezing it, “y/n is here guys. Let’s make the most of this week. Tomorrow is Friday, aka Yuna’s extravagant birthday ball and we have a lot of catching up to do.”

~~~~~~~

You lay in bed after a long day of hanging with your friends, your phone up to your face as you stare at the screen that mocks you. He read your message and just…never replied. You are trying your best to feel okay but now that you lay alone you start to feel the loneliness creep up. Does he not want to see you? Is he afraid to see you?

You exit your message threads and go to your photos…you find the selfies from your date and you stare and stare at the screen. He’s so strikingly handsome. You feel your chest tighten as you continue to gaze at the photos, you feel your heart squeeze in your chest. Suddenly there is knocking on the bedroom door and Jimin is walking in…you’re quick to click your phone off and pretend you just weren’t staring at the man you love.

“Hey.” Jimin greets you softly. “You still awake?”

“Yeah…” you turn over to face him, you scoot over and pat the spot next to you and he takes the invitation to slide in the sheets.

“How are you doing?” Jimin asks suddenly, his tone is warm and comforting and you almost burst into tears at his question but instead you clear your throat and nod your head a few times.

“Good.” you lie.

“y/n…” Jimin breathes out slowly, “Really. How are you?” his eyes are full of fucking pity and it’s driving you to feel like a god damn burden.

“I said I’m good.” But your voice cracks, and he’s already pulling you into his chest.

“y/n…” he holds you tight as you try to even out your breathing. “I talked to him today.”

“He’s…” you hiccup, “He’s going to come. I know it.” You say into Jimin’s chest. “I know it. Even if he doesn’t reply to me, he’s going to go to the party.”

“…He…said he isn’t going.” Jimin tells you regretfully. “He seemed pretty serious.”

“No.” you sniffle now, “He’s going.” You feel your eyes sting as you try to blink back growing tears. “He’s going.” You repeat pathetically.

“Okay, okay.” Jimin begins rubbing your back. “Okay.”

“I just need a chance Jimin.” You hiccup again, “A chance to show him that I…” your breathing picks up even more, your sharp breaths concerning Jimin.

“Just relax…” He continues to rub your back, “I’m here.”

“Jimin…” your voice cracks again but this time because of a quiet sob that finally breaks through. “I miss him so much.” You cry.

“I know girl.” His soft voice making you feel comforted. “I’m holding onto hope too.” He tells you, his tender tone only making you cry harder.

“Fuck…” you sob into his chest. “I miss him so fucking much.”

You eventually fall asleep in Jimin’s arms after you spent some time crying it out. Jimin has a hard time knocking out, his mind too busy with thoughts of you and Taehyung.

~

“You look absolutely gorgeous.” Jimin has stars in his eyes as he looks at you, “Right, Jungkook?” he hits Jungkook’s arm and Jungkook awkwardly clears his throat.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Thanks guys.” You tug on the material over your stomach and frown. “Are you sure though? This dress looks fine on me?”

“Absolutely. Gorgeous.” Jimin repeats. “Stunning.”

“He’s right.” Jungkook shrugs. “You do look nice. Or whatever.”

“Fine, I guess I will have to believe you two. You also look nice.” You gesture towards the two men in suits. “This is about to be super fancy isn’t it?” you pinch your brows together as you chuckle. “Yuna really went all out.” You look up at the building. The Mondrian is a beautiful hotel, very luxurious. You three step through the rotating doors and enter the main building.

“She can go all out when she’s got daddy’s money.” Jungkook big doe eyes look around him, he’s in awe of the hotel, that much is clear.

“Should we find the conference room and find the bar and you know, start drinking?” your eyes scan around, noticing all the people dressed up walking to the elevators. “She said it’s on the 3rd floor right?”

“What happened to no more drinking?” Jungkook nudges your shoulder. “But hell yeah, let’s go.”

“I second that.” Jimin links arms with you and Jungkook, leading the way towards the elevators.

You three find the conference room and your eyes grow twice their size. This room is huge, many tables set up, people dancing to loud music, the bar is poppin with lines of people waiting for a free drink, it’s beyond what you imagined.

“y/n!!!” You hear the high pitched voice of no other than Yuna. She looks so beautiful it actually feels blinding. Her deep green gown, her pale pink hair, her subtle yet gorgeous make up. She looks like a fairy princess. Jiwoo follows closely behind, a bold, blue dress with her hair pinned up. She looks like a model out of a magazine.

“You look amazing.” Yuna points at you, her eyes full of genuine surprise. “Like, what the heck?” she looks you up and down, her hands motioning towards your body.

“This dress is so…” She blinks at you repeatedly, “Do a turn for me!”

You giggle, feeling a bit shy but you do a little twirl. Yuna pretends to faint.

“AND IT’S BACKLESS?! You’re killing me!” she yells out dramatically. “Jiwoo are you seeing this?!” “You do look so pretty.” Jiwoo chuckles. “Yuna, can you ever compliment someone more normally?”

“You like the way I compliment.” Yuna raises her head up. “You know it’s true.”

“You literally pretended to have a heart attack when you saw me tonight.” Jiwoo deadpans, “who does that?”

“Girls who recognize real beauty.” Yuna states matter of fact. “And girl, you are beautiful.”

“Shush.” Jiwoo’s cheeks begin to heat up, you can’t help but giggle at the interaction.

“You both look lovely.” You tell them sincerely. “And happy birthday Yuna.” You lean in for a hug, its tight and quick and you’re pulling away much faster than Yuna’s liking,

“Thanks girl.” She smiles for you. “You really do look so nice y/n…are you hoping to see T—”

“Yuna.” Jiwoo warns, “Let’s get a drink?”

“Yeah, let’s do that.” You say, “Where did Jimin and Jungkook go?” you finally notice they’re absence.

“Probably to their table. With the rest of the guys.” Yuna tells you while she starts leading you girls towards the open bar. “Shots?” She smirks towards you two. “It’s my birthday so you can’t say no.”

“Fine. But you’re trying to kill me.” You laugh, “I’m going easy tonight.”

“One shot.” Yuna pouts cutely, “But you!” She points at Jiwoo. “You have to take two with me.”

“Fine by me.” Jiwoo shrugs. We both know between the two of us, it’s me who’s taking care of you and your drunk ass tonight.”

“Counting on it.” Yuna blows Jiwoo a kiss.

“Ugh, let’s do this.”

You girls wait for the shots, taking them quickly once they’re in your hands. The burn is exactly what you needed to loosen up. You’re nervous tonight. You’re anticipating Taehyung’s arrival. Yes, he never replied to you. Yes, he told Jimin he wasn’t coming. But you feel it in your bones…he’s coming tonight. He wants to see you as bad as you want to see him. At least that’s what you are hoping for.

“You’re too good of a dancer Hobi, I can’t keep up with you!” you whine loud enough for him to hear you over the music.

“You’re doing great!” he tells you, his hands on your waist. “Just move to the music girl!”

“Easier said than done.” You laugh loudly, “Hey, what time is it?”

“Hm..” Hobi lifts his left wrist to look at his watch. “Almost 12.” He tells you.

It’s almost 12? And he’s still not here? No, you know he’s coming. He has to. He will. You feel your chest close in on you, and your heart thumping wildly. You know you’re going to see him tonight. You know it. You excuse yourself and head towards the doors of the conference room. You walk past Jimin who suddenly frowns as he realizes you’re heading out the doors, he tries calling out for you but you ignore him. He doesn’t think Taehyung is going to show up.

But you know.

You stand in the hallway in front of the elevators for who knows how long, you shift from one foot to the other as you wait anxiously. The party is still going hard, but you’ve tuned it all out. The only thing you hear is Taehyung’s deep voice. It plays in your mind, him saying something as simple as your name. You wish you were hearing it for real. You hear the ding of the arriving elevator and go rigid.

The sharp intake of breath your weak body just sucked in has you feeling tense. You knew you were going to see him…you knew this was going to happen but here you are, trying so hard to even out your breathing as you await his arrival. No amount of journaling could calm you, relax you, give you a sense of peace. No amount of alcohol could make you feel looser.

“Jimin just told me…” Yuna catches up to you, out of breath. “y/n…” your name leaves her mouth with pity, “I don’t think he’s going to come.”

“He will.” You say, standing your ground outside the elevator. “He will.”

“At least wait inside…” She gestures towards the conference room, where the party is. “It looks lonely waiting out here.”

Your eyes fall to the tiled floor, the shiny cream colored squares showing a vague reflection of yourself. Maybe it is lonely.

“Okay…” You turn around to face Yuna, a tired smile working itself on your lips. “Let’s dance?”

“Yeah.” She offers a drunk smile.

Then you hear the elevator doors opening, you whip your head in the direction of the doors but inside is only unrecognizable faces.

“Let’s go.” You tell her, trying your best not to feel so disappointed.

You both walk into the room again, the music blaring and the sight of sweaty bodies grinding against one another.

“I need a drink.” You take a deep breath before heading towards the bar. You find yourself downing shot after shot.

“Hey, slow down.” Jungkook’s voice cuts in through the booming music. “Don’t want you to like, throw up.”

“Hey Jungkook…?” You hand him your drink, getting it away from you. “You’re always straight up…”

“Don’t do this.” Jungkook warns you softly, “Not now.”

“Is Taehyung—”

“Is Taehyung…what?” A new voice cuts in, a voice you know all too well. It’s deep, deeper than the fucking ocean. It’s smooth, its charming, You feel your breath get caught in your throat as your ears process the voice they heard. You struggle for a moment, but you finally tilt your head to the side and your eyes narrow at the tall figure.

“Am I what?” he repeats.

Finally, a small gasp leaves your lips as your eyes widen in genuine shock. You knew he would come tonight yet somehow you are as surprised as Jungkook next to you. You don’t notice but Jungkook nods his head towards Taehyung and walks away, leaving you two.

“T-Taehyung…?” you blink over and over, not believing your eyes. “What are you—”

“I’m here to see you.” He tells you bluntly. “And my god woman, you are a sight for sore eyes.” He all but whispers, his expression stiff as he eyes you.

“Taehyung.” You release the shakiest breath as you repeat his name.

“Hi y/n.”

You straighten yourself, trying to show off the fact that you aren’t totally drunk. You look all around the slightly spinning room and search for faces you know. Finally, your eyes lock with Jimin’s. He looks worried but he quickly tries to smile for you. You look panicked to say the least. The room is crowded, loud, hot and sweaty. But all of that fades away when the scent of Taehyung fills your nostrils. You take a second to notice he has stepped forward until he is right in front of you.

“y/n.” he says your name as a command. Your frantic eyes find his and you feel the whole room freeze.

Taehyung studies you, his focused eyes scanning every inch of your body. You watch as he lifts a hand and reaches behind you. Then suddenly you are feeling light fingertips tracing your down your spine. His fingers barely skid across your exposed skin and you slowly close your eyes at the contact. Your breathing slowing as well.

Taehyung’s fingers glide back up your back, his touch so light like he almost wasn’t even touching you. His serious expression beginning to soften as he brings his hand back to his own body.

“This dress is like the one you wore on the island.”

“You like it.” You whisper.

“Yes.” He admits, you two gaze into one another’s eyes until he finally looks off to the side.

“Should we talk?” he asks you, “Or are you too drunk?”

“No, no.” you shake your head, “Let’s talk.”

Taehyung looks you over one last time before nodding his head and turning around to head towards the exit. You gulp as you watch his broad back…you hurry to follow him.

Taehyung glances behind him and he exhales a long breath when he sees you rushing after him, he looks forward again until he’s reaching the elevators.

“Come on.” He gestures towards the open elevators.

You walk quickly, reaching him and the elevator before you’re going inside. He follows you in.

“Taehyung—”

“Wait until we are downstairs.” He cuts you off softly.

“Okay…”

The ride is silent. But your mind is as loud as shrieking ghosts, ghosts that want to haunt and traumatize you. You finally hear the ding, signaling your arrival to the first floor.

“Come on.” He tells you, his voice booming throughout the small space. “Follow me.”

You do as he says, you follow him. Truthfully, you would follow him anywhere. Even to the ends of the Earth.

“Yes, hi.” Taehyung begins speaking to the front desk lady. “I want a room, please.”

Wait, a room? You’d follow him anywhere but a room?

“Taehyung—”

“It’s just so we have privacy.” He assures you, not even looking in your direction.

“It’s expensive…” you slur. “We can just talk outside.”

“It’s fine.” He hands the lady his card, “Which floor?”

“6th floor.” She informs him with a bright smile.

Your eyes find your shoes, somehow they’re more fascinating than anything else suddenly. Then you feel the warmth of Taehyung’s hand wrapping itself around yours, his fingers struggling to intertwine with your own. But then you finally receive the hint and allow him to hold your hand.

“You’re drunk, y/n.” he says, voice laced in disappointment, “I’m sorry for making you wait.” He leads you back to the elevators. You two walk inside and he let’s go of your hand, he runs his fingers through his smooth hair and sighs out in defeat.

“You should just get some sleep.”

“I want to talk.” You slur again, “I have…I have so much to say.”

“We’ll see.” His low voice rumbles. “We’ll see.”

The ride up to the 6th floor is long, but you finally make it out of that small space and stumble towards your room.

Taehyung unlocks the door and you make your way inside…the view is amazing. The city is quite the sight.

“Take your shoes off, I’m sure your feet hurt.” Taehyung loosens up his tie.

“They do.” You admit in a whine.

Taehyung takes a seat on the edge of the made bed and watches you with intense eyes as you get comfortable.

“C’mere.” He pats the spot next to him.

Suddenly you become very shy. You haven’t felt this kind of tension in so long. His eyes boring into every inch of your skin, his eyes trailing along your body and making you feel exposed. Making you feel naked.

“Okay.” You nod your head slowly, “I can do that.” You take your time walking to him, sitting next to him on the bed.

“What is it you want to tell me?” Taehyung gets straight to the point.

“Uh….umm…”

“Words y/n.” he closes his eyes for a brief second, then his sight is back on you. “Why did you want to see me?”

“Taehyung.” Saying his name feels so…exhilarating. You’ve avoided it for so long but now you can say it and it feels like freedom and it tastes so, so sweet on your tongue.

“I don’t know where to start.” You admit. “I didn’t rehearse…”

For the first time tonight Taehyung’s face splits into a small smile as he quietly chuckles.

“Rehearse?”

“Yeah…I didn’t practice what to say.” You slur cutely.

“Just let the words flow naturally.” His eyes light up in slight amusement. “What is it you want to tell me?”

“I miss you.” You blurt out, your hand immediately going to cover your mouth as if you said curse words.

“You miss me?” he repeats your words, “Is that so?”

You slowly lower your hand that covers your mouth and nod your head.

“Yes.” You close your eyes and tilt your head back. “This past year…”

“What about it?”

“This past year I…”

“You?” Taehyung raises a curious brow, “You what?”

“I think I’ve become better.” You slur out your words, “I’m better now.”

“Yeah?” Taehyung asks, his voice low. “I’m happy for you.”

“Taehyung.” You lower your head and open your eyes. They stare straight ahead. “Can we make this work?” your words jumble together as you try to speak. Those last shots sneaking up on you.

“I’ve decided that this conversation is going to have to wait.” Taehyung stands from the bed, “I’m going to get you some water.”

You watch as he walks towards a counter and pours you a glass of water, he comes back and places the cup in your hands. “Drink.” He says softly. “Please.”

“O-Okay.” You bring the cup to your lips, your eyes never leaving his as you gulp back some of the liquid.

“Good girl.” He whispers. “Now, I want you to get some sleep.”

“Are you sleeping with me?” you hiccup.

“No.” he tells you with a tender voice, “But I will stay here until you fall asleep, how about that?”

“Okay….”

Taehyung watches you carefully as you lay down on the bed, your head falling onto the fluffy pillow and your eyes closing almost immediately. He softly groans when you begin snoring only minutes later…his eyes never leaving you.

You’re going to be in Korea? For Yuna’s birthday? Taehyung reads your text like he’s on repeat. He is feeling an array of emotions, he feels good things, bad things, things in the middle. But the bad things…aren’t even very bad. It’s just anxiety…and doubt. Maybe it is that bad.

Taehyung decides not to reply not until he’s talked to his therapist, he wants to thoroughly discuss this over and come to a smart decision. But his heart is fucking fluttering at the thought of seeing you. He really misses you. But are either of you ready to face the other?

The next day Taehyung gets to the old man’s office, waiting patiently outside the door until he gets the signal he can go in. Where does he start? Does he just show the text to his therapist? Does he talk about something else first before nonchalantly bringing you up and this text that is haunting him?

“y/n texted me.” He decides to be straight forward, as usual.

“Ah, really?” the old man peeks at Taehyung through his glasses that rest lowly on his nose. “What did she say?”

“She’s coming here. She asked if she will see me.”

“And will you see her?”

“I…I don’t know.” Taehyung admits between a long breath, “I really don’t know.”

The old man nods his head in quiet understanding, he jots down some notes on his notebook with his pen.

“Taehyung.” The man stops writing his notes to get a look at Taehyung, “What do you want from her? If anything at all.”

“I just want her to live a good life.”

“That’s not what I asked. I asked what you want from her?”

“I don’t know anymore.” He tells the old man, his voice low.

“It’s okay not to know. You don’t have to see her if you aren’t ready, you know?”

“I don’t?” Taehyung asks, but then his lips curve upward like he realizes how silly his question is. “I know.” He nods his head, “But it’s not like I don’t want to see her. I do.”

“Then—”

“But I don’t know how to prepare for that. I don’t know how to face her. What will we even talk about? Why does she want to see me? Is she just being polite because we share the same friends? That she knows she’s bound to run into me? Or is it because she does want to see me? But why? Why?” Taehyung begins to ramble. “Can we coexist? Is this just about coexisting? Is that about us? Her and I? Is this about what we can maybe be? But how do either of us know we are ready for that?”

“Ah, that.” The old man sighs out, taking his glasses off. “I know it may seem like cliché words…but you will just know.”

“You’re right. Those are cliché words.” Taehyung says with a straight face.

“But they are a classic for a reason, you know?” The old man points out with a chuckle. “You will feel it. You will feel it in every fiber of your being of what the right thing to do is. You will feel it. Your bones will tell you. Your heart will tell you. You will realize how simple and easy it is to just know.”

“But I don’t know?”

“Because maybe it isn’t time for you yet to be aware. But the time will come.”

“I think for now…I need time to think. I didn’t have enough time to prepare for this.” Taehyung says honestly. “This is too sudden.”

“You have every right to feel that way.”

“But how does she feel?” Taehyung becomes worried, his soft expression becoming more and more serious.

“We’re here to focus on you.” The old man reminds him gently. “In the end, I believe you will do what you think is best. You will do what you think is right. And coming to those type of conclusions takes time.”

Taehyung sits down in a chair across from the bed, gazing at you as you sleep. He thought seeing you would give him the answers he needs but he’s still lost. It took a lot for him to show up here…it took a lot for him to gather the courage to face you. He thought for sure once he saw you he would know everything. He would feel what to do. But seeing you here only confuses him further. What does he want? What is he ready for? Does he even know you anymore?

Finally, Taehyung stands up from the chair and walks to your side of the bed. He reaches his hand to gently stroke your cheek before he’s leaving the room. Leaving you. He sends a text to Jimin letting him know your room number and that you’re fast asleep. Then he is heading back home.

~~~~

“A movie night?” you tilt your head to the side, “I don’t know…can we just—”

“It’ll be a good way for everyone to unwind from last night’s partying!” Jimin whines, “Please! I promise you can choose the first movie.” He offers with a sweet smile.

“Jimin I don’t know…if I’m up for this after last night…”

“Oh? Didn’t I tell you?” the corner of Jimin’s mouth curves upwards. “He said he was going to come tonight.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah, said he wanted to hang with everyone. Guess that includes you.” Jimin points out knowingly. “You said you guys didn’t really get to talk so maybe…”

“I don’t want to get my hopes up.”

“But you said you were going to give it your all right? This is an opportunity.”

“Oh…” you start pulling at the ends of your hair, “That’s true.”

“So movie night?”

“Movie night.”

You and Jimin clean up his place as you wait for everyone’s arrival. Hobi and Yoongi show up first, then Namjoon and finally Jungkook and Jin. Taehyung still hasn’t shown up and you guys are about to play your first movie. You wonder if he is really coming.

“He’s coming, I just talked to him on the way here.” Jungkook assures you. “Relax.”

“I am relaxed.” You lie, “You relax.”

“He went last night…that’s a good sign, right?”

“I don’t know.” You admit honestly. “We didn’t get to talk.”

Suddenly, you hear the front door unlocking and opening up. You guess he has a key. You freeze on the sofa, you can hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears. He’s here.

“Hey guys.” You hear his deep voice rumble. “I’m here.” He announces but you keep your eyes on the TV. You feel his footsteps get closer and closer, the pitter patter against the wooden floors making you so anxious.

Then you see his figure in your peripherals, he’s standing on the side of the couch, facing you.

“Hi y/n.”

You gulp, your eyes still on the TV when you remind yourself you’re a brave girl. You slowly turn your head to face him, your wide eyes finding his face. His hair is shorter than you remember, still a bit wavy and still dark. He looks so handsome, so mature. He’s got on some comfortable looking pants and a printed button up, his hands in his pockets as he looks down at you.

“Hi.” You squeak.

“Can I sit next to you?” he asks, his low voice barely heard by the others. “If it’s okay…”

“Yeah!” you rush to scoot over, making room for him. “Sit, sit.”

Taehyung gives you a wide boxy grin and nods his head quickly, he takes a seat next to you, his shoulder bumping yours. Fuck, you feel like you’re in middle school. His shoulder is like, fucking heaven or some shit.

“What movie did you guys decide on?”

“I don’t know, something random.” You tell him nervously. “It just started. You haven’t missed much.”

“I don’t think I’ll be paying much attention to the movie anyway.” Taehyung whispers, his warm breath fanning your cheek from how close he is.

“Oh?” you gulp. “Jimin says it’s good though.”

“I’m not really here for the movies, you know?” He leans into you a little bit and you feel a harsh, harsh blush creep up on your heated cheeks. His fingers find your knee and he taps against your jeans. “Can we talk outside?”

“The—The movie….” You whisper, pointing at the screen. “Let’s just watch the movie for now.”

Shit, you haven’t felt this nervous under his gaze in his long. His eyes study you as you watch the film. You can feel his intense gaze. You can feel how he just stares at you from time to time.

You aren’t sure why you are chickening out…maybe because you’re embarrassed about being drunk last night. How you asked if you guys could work on it, but he said he wanted to save this talk for later. It’s just making you more and more nervous.

“This movie is boring.” Jin yawns. “Let’s pause and order some food? Also let’s go to the store and get some beer?”

“Dude yes!” Hobi agrees, “I’ll go. Who wants to come with me?”

“I’ll go with you.” Namjoon raises his hand.

“You’re right I need your muscles to help me.”

“I’ll order the food!” Jimin offers but Jungkook is quick to volunteer as well, something about not trusting Jimin to get all the good meats.

“Sounds good.” Yoongi brings out his phone and starts playing on it.

Taehyung glances over at you and nods towards the patio.

“Shall we?” he begins standing up, he faces you and extends his hand out for you to take. You hesitate but you take it. The warmth of his hand sending tingles all throughout your body, you wonder if he feels it too.

He leads you out to the patio and you both take a seat across from one another. You nervously shake your knee up and down and Taehyung can’t help but chuckle.

“Will you calm down?” He insists, “You’re the one who wanted to talk, remember?”

“I know.” You find his beautiful, brown eyes. “I do.”

“Then talk.” He gestures for you to go on.

“Taehyung.”

“Yes?”

“How has your year been?” this is where you decide to start.

“Hard. Good. Worth it.” He leans back in the chair, “I struggled some days more than others but mostly…really good.”

“Do you think you could…be honest with me? Be open with me?” you nibble on your lips, your knee continues to shake.

“How so?”

“Can you tell me all about your year, what you went through, how you felt. Your feelings in general. Could you do that? With me?”

Taehyung blinks at you in surprise for a few seconds before he is closing his eyes altogether. He leans even further back in his chair and takes a deep breath.

“You want to know me again?” he whispers out. “You want to know me?”

“Yes. And I want you to know me in return.” Your shaking knee finally comes to a stop as you drag your chair closer to his. “I want to…really talk. About everything. I want to understand you. I want…”

“I understand.” Taehyung nods his head before opening his eyes again, they find yours and you’re intimated by his gaze. He observes you for a while, his serious expression making you nervous again.

“What do you want from me?” He asks bluntly. “What is your ultimate goal here?”

“You.” You reply just as straight forward. “I want you.”

“I don’t know.” He says quickly, you feel your heart squeeze in your chest. He doesn’t know?

“I think…” he sighs out, “I don’t think it’s that simple.” And what the old man said is starting to make sense. This is a moment where Taehyung feels it. He feels what the right thing to do is.

“I don’t think we can jump into something like romance, y/n.”

You brows pinch together as you listen to him speak, but you relax your features and nod in understanding,

“Do you want to be friends with me, Taehyung?”

“I think that’s a place we can start.”

[darling-i-read-it]

The Raven

Takeshi Kovacs x fem!reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: murder, insinutations to smut, injuries, drinking

Author’s Note: he !!!!!!!! HE !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! anyway enjoy

I was gonna wait to post this but I feel like you guys deserve it so here you go lmao

Summary: You and Takeshi both stay at the Raven and get to know each other.

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

You ran your hand through your hair as you stepped into the Raven. You held your side, feeling the blood seep through your fingers. Poe materialized behind the counter, his eyebrow raised.

“What happened to you?” he asked curiously. You shrugged, a weak smile on your face.

“Nothing that won’t be fixed with a hot shower and a glass of bourbon,” you said through gritted teeth. Poe nodded and walked around the desk and over to the bar. You leaned against the counter, trying not to bleed all over it as you waited.

“Should I provide medical assistance?” he asked. You shook your head.

“I can handle myself.” Poe walked back over to you and handed you the glass. You took it and downed it in one drink. The liquid stung your throat as it always did but it was a welcome feeling after everything you had been through. “I’ll be taking that shower now,” you said as you put the glass down. You were about to turn when you noticed Poe’s face. He looked like he was trying to muster the courage to tell you something. “Are you kicking me out?”

“No!” he said much too quickly. That meant one thing. There was something that might make you want to leave. You raised an eyebrow.

“Spit it out Poe.” He let out a sigh.

“I have another guest.” You scoffed.

“Are you serious?”

“Don’t be so surprised. I run a very nice establishment.” You nodded. You had been the only customer at the Raven for months. It started as just wanting to go under the radar then you ended up liking it there. No one ever came. Poe was good company. You paid a monthly fee instead of a nightly one, he liked you so much.

“Anyone I should know?” you asked, wondering if it was one of your old enemies out to get you here. You hoped it wasn’t. You had no desire to leave. You would have to find a whole new space and you had grown comfortable here.

“No unless you keep friends with Envoys.” Your eyes opened wide and you forgot about the pain in your abdomen.

“An Envoy here? Well Poe, I can’t say you’re boring,” you said and then the pain was back. “As much as I would love to learn more, I really have to stitch this. What room are they in?”

“I can’t disclose that information,” he said. You scoffed, pushing yourself off the desk you were leaning on.

“Come on Poe.”

“I can’t. It’s in my mainframe.” You rolled your eyes.

“Are they on my floor?” He thought about it for a moment and then nodded gently, giving in.

“He is.” You smiled to yourself.

“He. Good to know.” You started to walk toward the elevator. “See you tomorrow Poe!” He waved to you, a fond smile on his face. He wondered if you would like Takeshi. He laughed quietly in the empty room. Takeshi would like you. He didn’t like many people but he imagined Takeshi would quite like you.

====

You brushed through your wet hair gingerly, still in pain from the stitches you had given yourself. Thankfully it wasn’t anything bad. You imagined it wouldn’t bother you at all in a couple months. You looked out the large window in your room and put your hair brush down. You deserved a few hours of shut eye. Maybe you could even sleep in tomorrow if no one came in to try and kill you.

Your mind lingered on the Envoy you were sharing a building with. You didn’t think any existed anymore.

You were about to shut the blinds down so the night sky couldn’t be seen anymore when you noticed something. Smoke. You took your hand off the blinds button and walked to the far side of the window, squinting.

Cigarette smoke coming from the building. So close it probably came from the room next to you. You scoffed. Poe put the Envoy in the room next to you. You imagined him, trying to picture what he may look like. A deadly killer.

You smiled gently to yourself and closed the blinds.

=====

Takeshi shrugged on his pants. The girl Poe had sent up had left ages ago but he had just now gotten around to putting his clothes back on. Tak ran his hand through his hair, taking a cigarette out of the pack and lighting it. He stared out into the city around him, watching the lights turn on in the buildings. The sun had just risen.

The room was so silent he heard the door open next door and shut closed. He perked up. He figured he was the only person staying in the Raven. What kind of person would stay here? Other than him.

He blew out some smoke and walked to the door, opening it without a second thought. You were walking down the hall away from him. He caught only the back of you as you turned the corner.

“Yeah, yeah I’m on my way. Let me at least eat breakfast,” you said into the phone you were holding up. Breakfast. That sounded good. He was pretty sure Poe would make him a complimentary breakfast if he asked.

He tossed on a shirt and jacket as he put out his cigarette before going to the elevator. He found you were still waiting, the door opening only as he approached. He had figured he would get a better look at you downstairs but in the elevator was fine too. You hung up the phone and stepped in. He soon followed, making you jump.

You looked over at him, meeting his eyes. The Envoy. He looked uninterested. But handsome. You had to imagine that wasn’t actually his actual sleeve but the one picked out for him had been a good one.

You hit the button for the first level. The doors closed.

“I didn’t think anyone else was staying here,” he said. Even his voice was enticing. You shrugged.

“I was here first.” He smiled a bit.

“Why are you staying at an AI-run hotel?”

“Why are you?” He nodded. He wasn’t getting an answer. That was fine. “Y/N,” you said, not offering a last name. You had to force yourself not to look at him. He thought about giving you only his last name, as he tended to do with people he didn’t trust.

“Takeshi.”

The elevator doors opened, revealing Poe on the other side waiting for you both. His eyes went wide.

“Friends already?” he asked. You scoffed.

“How many rooms does this place have Poe? You could have put us on separate floors at least,” you said, walking forward. Takeshi stepped out as well.

“I like to keep you close in case help is needed.”

“Why would help be needed?” Takeshi asked. Poe eyed him. You eyed both of them. Whatever Takeshi was here for, you imagined it was dangerous.

“Well you’re both high class people. I’m being precautious,” Poe said.

“Breakfast?” you asked Takeshi. He had things to do. He had things to do. He had to leave this place and go find answers, manipulate people, understand the world around him. He didn’t need breakfast.

“I like my eggs over easy.” Poe nodded, smiling.

He knew Takeshi would like you.

====

You had been trying to just go about your day of crime, not think about some man. That wasn’t your style. You didn’t dwell on anything. You couldn’t afford to. You had jobs to do, people to get rid of.

But Takeshi and you had a nice breakfast. Neither of you gave much up about yourselves but it was nice. Talks of the weather, joking about Poe. Simple things.

You walked back into the Raven that night late, like you usually did. You didn’t have any injuries this time around, thankfully. You holstered your gun when you walked in and smiled at Poe.

“You look much better today,” he commented.

“I am. No need for stitches.”

“Your companion doesn’t look as good,” Poe commented offhandedly. You squinted.

“My com-” You scoffed. “Takeshi is not my companion. We just stay at the same hotel,” you explained.

“And share eggs.”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“Came back today looking awful. Though I’m not allowed to let anyone up in his room myself.”

“I never asked you to let me into his room.” You met Poe’s eyes. “I’ll be in my room if you need me.”

You rode the elevator up to your floor. You walked down the hallway and paused at your door. You put your hand on the handle and kept it there for a moment. Takeshi didn’t need you to help clean up his messes. Breakfast had been fine but it had been brief.

You looked over at his door.

“Damn Poe,” you whispered to yourself, sure he could hear you somehow. You walked to Takeshi's door and knocked. There was some light shuffling and then the door opened. He was standing shirtless before you, a stitching needle in his arm as it bled.

“Can I help you?” he asked.

“According to Poe, it’s you I can help,” you said. You gestured to the half stitched injury. “I’m pretty good at that if you want company that isn’t an AI desperate to tear your pants off.” He thought about it for a second. You figured he would turn you down. He didn’t need your help, you knew that. He was perfectly capable. But you had to ask.

He opened the door further and you nodded once, stepping inside. You hadn’t seen any other rooms but yours. It looked like the exact same, minus some touches. He had out bandages and things on the table. He sat down at the chair and you sat down in the one beside him.

“I’ve never been good at stitching,” he admitted.

“We all have our faults,” you said quietly. You scooted the chair closer to him so you could get a better look. Your knee was between his leg and his knee was between yours. You tried not to focus on it. You ran your finger over his bicep and took the needle from him. “What happened?” He gave you a look. “Alright. I understand.” You started to work and remained silent.

Takeshi watched your focused gaze.

“You are good at that,” he said after a couple quiet minutes. You smiled, not looking at him because you were too tuned in.

“I’ve had to learn.” You finished up and leaned back, lifting your shirt enough to show him your stitched abdomen. He leaned back and nodded.

“You’re better company than the AI’s.”

“Don’t say that too loud. Poe has ears everywhere,” you whispered, laughing a bit.

“I don’t think I can hurt his feelings. He’s an AI.” You rolled your eyes.

“They have feelings,” you argued. You stood up. “I hope that heals nicely,” you said gently.

“It will,” he said.

“Goodnight Takeshi.” You started towards the door.

“Breakfast tomorrow?” You turned back to him and nodded.

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

====

You didn’t know much about Takeshi but he did open up over the next couple days. You had spent mornings and nights together but you always retreated to your separate rooms before sleeping. You had told him a little about yourself and he shared more about himself.

You liked him.

He liked you.

You sat on his bed, looking out the window.

“I think that building is a sleeve manufacturer,” you said, pointing to one of the tall buildings. He raised an eyebrow.

“I thought that was a cosmetics place.” “Same thing Tak.” He laughed, rolling his eyes. He was laying on the bed, his hands behind his head.

“The one next to it is run by an asshole.” He poured himself a drink off the bottle on his bedside table. You took it from him before he could get a sip, taking a swig and then handing it back to him.

“They’re all run by assholes,” you muttered.

“Is that why you run around killing them?”

“Hey, I wasn’t able to fight in a war against them. It’s the best I can do,” you said honestly. He pursed his lips and shrugged.

“I’d say you’re doing a halfway decent job,” he admitted.

“I try.”

You looked over at him, meeting his eyes.

“I wasn’t going to mention the new cut over your eye but it’s bleeding and now I feel I have to mention it.” He brought a finger up to his eyebrow, looking at the blood. “This sleeve,” he muttered.

“At least it’s pretty,” you said as you got up, grabbing a bandage and coming back to him. You sat down beside him and leaned forward, wiping the blood away and put the bandage on him.

“I can do that,” he said.

“You say that every time I do something and yet you let me keep going,” you muttered. You made sure it was alright and looked him in the eye. You quickly looked away, not letting yourself linger in his eyes. He was too dangerous and he slept with the AI in the building and he killed-

He kissed you before you could finish the thought and it all went out the window because he was a really good kisser. He cupped your cheek, grabbing you around the waist. He moved you closer to him so you were practically in his lap. He sat up and his hands moved down your back.

You pulled away but he kept kissing down your neck as you leaned over the bedside table, hitting the button and closing the blinds.

====

Poe had made the eggs at the same time he did every day. He had always made them for you and just decided to add Takeshi’s when he made yours. It was simple and you were always punctual.

Except today.

He waited patiently and twenty minutes after you usually came down, you and Takeshi entered the ground floor. You yawned, rubbing your neck.

“I didn’t mean to-”

“I’m not complaining Kovacs,” you said. Poe smiled.

“How was your night? The eggs are cold, you’re both late.” Takeshi sat down, taking a drink of the cup Poe left out.

“It was a good night,” he said.

“A decent night,” you teased.

“You sleep well?” Poe asked politely. You nodded stiffly, hiding a smile.

“Very well.”

“You both know I know everything that happens in my hotel right?” Poe asked. Takeshi shrugged.

“Then you should have known when we would come down,” Takeshi said.

“And you should have known it was Takeshi’s fault,” you said.

“I didn’t hear you complaining,” he muttered. Poe smiled.

“I know you two would like each other.”

[thefallenbibliophilequote]

You Tried To Change The Ending

Bucky x reader

"I knew you, stepping on the last train, marked me like a bloodstain;

I knew you, tried to change the ending, Peter losing Wendy"

Summary: You love him, but he made it clear he didn't want anything to do with you. Can a trip to the future give him a new perspective about the present?

Word count: 3,834

Warnings: a hint of fluff, angst, just angst with a happy ending

A/N: this is for the Time Travel Fic challenge by @justagirlinafandomworld I chose the prompt "they are future you. And they are looking at me the way I have wished you would look at me." With Bucky Barnes. I don't know what has gotten into me lately but I have been writing so much angst like what the fuck? I am a fluff kinda gal! but I hope you enjoy this!

A/N 2: thank you for @lehuka123 and @ayybtch for beta reading this mess!

PS. This has an alternate ending

 --

You stood there in the middle of his room, he looked at you expectantly. There you showed up at his door, in the middle of the night, and here he was, waiting for you to talk about what you wanted to. You wouldn't have woken him up from a peaceful sleep for nothing- that much he knew, he wasn't getting those most nights and you were always so understanding, so now he was waiting for you to explain, looking at you and trying to figure out if you're hurt somehow.

You knew he wouldn't hurt you, you were friends and he was Bucky who is so warm and nice- but still, the room felt cold and you were too afraid to say it when he was looking at you like that. His ice cold eyes reading into your soul. So you closed your own eyes.

"I love you" Silence overtook the room, engulfing you completely in dread.

You opened your eyes to see him staring at you, eyes wide but in a blink of an eye- they changed. The cold ice now cut you, it burned you.

"I don't feel the same way Y/N, I think it would be best if you leave." He stood tall now, intimidating you.

You lowered your eyes, you didn't expect him to say anything back but- you weren't ready for this. It broke you, but you tried to appear strong.

"Can we still be friends?" you glanced at him again. You spent some nights here with him in this room, just talking and watching movies, you loved being here but now all you wanted to do was get out. What you saw in his eyes scared you.

"We are teammates Y/N, nothing more" his tone was mocking now. "Did you really think I would love you back?" his voice was sharp now.

"No, I didn't. I just thought maybe we could-" but then you stopped yourself when you finally recognized the look in his eyes. You lowered your gaze and you all but ran out of his room "Forget it. I'm sorry I bothered you."

He didn't look like your Bucky, he looked like the soldier.

It was clear he didn't want anything to do with you, so you stayed away. You didn't acknowledge him when you saw him in the kitchen, or when you were just sitting and talking with Natasha. She noticed the change in dynamics but it wasn't her place to speak up. In the gym you were too afraid to be there when he was, when cap asked the two of you to spar. It was awkward enough for you when Bucky voiced out his distaste, you didn't want to be humiliated like that again. You shook the thoughts from your head.

 The sad thing is that when you love someone, even if they don't love you back, your love for them doesn't just cease. You still loved Bucky even after that night when you cried yourself to sleep.

"Sir?" you knocked on the door of director Fury's office.

"Agent Y/L/N yes, what is this about?" the man motioned for you to take a sit at one of the chairs in front of him.

"Sir, I wanted to talk to you about the future missions that I'm on," you kept a steady voice and blank eyes, after all you are a trained spy and so you sucked it up and didn't let it get to you. You learned to just forget what happened, you didn't need to feel it. "I saw that on some of them I will be going with Sergeant Barnes, I wanted to request if I could be reassigned with someone else for these missions?"

Fury eyed you then, studying you. You could only imagine how that sounds yet you refused to lower your eyes.

"Is there some problem with pairing you with Barnes? You are a damn good team in the field." He stated.

"We are not on good terms and he wouldn't want to be assigned with me, so as to not compromise the missions I would like to be reassigned please."

Fury didn't take all the bullshit that was coming out of your mouth just now, so he mulled it over.

"Y/N you should not let personal issues get in the way of missions, you are one of my finest agents, you should know better!" You slightly winced at the scolding with your first name "The next mission is extremely delicate, I trust the two of you to complete it. However, there are some small missions that we can rearrange, those missions are harmless. So let's start with talking about the missions scheduled for the next week."

You smiled at Fury shortly, and the two of you talked about future missions. All you had to do was get through this one mission. From what you read, it is an important one, but you knew you could be professional- it was a big one and you wouldn't let yourself fail.

 "I don't want any changes done. Go there, don't interact, get what we need, and then get out. Is that clear?" Steve told both you and Bucky as you stood on the small platform, your suits ready to go.

"Crystal clear, Cap" you told the blond who just looked at you, not amused as you smirked.

Bucky nodded to his friend and before you knew it, the two of you were sent forward in time- just a few years away, to your parallel timeline.

In the blink of an eye, and a slight headache, you found yourself at the tower. You recognized the alley just outside of it.

"Great, we are not too far. Now we need to get disguises there and get the files that we need." Bucky said to you. You only nodded.

You were definitely going to tease Stark about how easily the two of you were able to get a hold of security guards outfits, just in case someone will recognize the two of you. You made your way through the tower when you stopped in front of a briefing room.

"Y/N what are you doing?" Bucky called you as you went inside the empty room and grabbed a tablet.

"I'm just checking to see something." You told him and he sighed, standing at the door with the black suit and armor.

"Well, can you do it faster? We have a job to do!" he whisper yelled at you and you spared him a glance, his eyes were still cold ever since that day.

"I found it. Okay, I'm just looking at the mission schedule to see if our other selves are out on a mission." He stayed quiet and let you continue. "Okay, I am not on any missions but I am not in the building either, but it seems like you are- or you might be. It states that it's not known if you returned or not yet."

"Okay so I will keep this helmet on, in case we run into him" you nodded and exited the room with him.

The two of you went to the file room where the files you were looking for were stored. Well, where they should be stored.

"I can't find them anywhere!" you said to a silent Bucky. He was stern and distanced with you through the mission, and you were frustrated that it got complicated. "Stark must have read it wrong, maybe it is in his private lab, that's just a floor up"

You didn't wait for a response and went out with Bucky and headed for the lab.

"It will be quicker through here." Bucky said, voice a little muffled from the mask, he pointed to the way of the common room. You knew it went straight to the avenger's private elevator, but it was risky, in case anyone was there.

Your wish to get this over with fast took over your better judgment.

"Hey, Jarvis? Is there anyone in the common room right now?" you asked the AI, you figured he would tell you, he knows you are here anyways.

A few moments of silence passed and you waited and bit your lip. He used to be quicker.

"No."

"Thank you Jarvis!" you said to the lovely AI.

You opened the door and went inside, Bucky followed behind you, taking off his mask.

The room was empty, it had only a couple of changes but it was still familiar

You walked cautiously through the large space when footsteps neared and there stood in front of you James Buchanan Barnes. His hair was cut shorter now, a bit spikier but it most certainly was a look for him. You stared at him with wide eyes as he looked between you and Bucky.

You lowered your gaze, letting your Bucky handle it since you knew either of them won't be glad to see you.

"Y/N?" came his soft voice, you slowly raised your eyes up to meet his as he stared at you.

But when he looked at you, you saw something different about him.

His look was soft, scared. His eyes were glossy right in front of you. That's when you realized what you saw beyond his eyes- love.

You kept your stare at him when your Bucky leaned in to whisper to you.

"Is that me?" he saw the different haircut and arm.

"He is future you. And he is looking at me the way I have wished you would look at me." You whispered and took a shuddering breath before stepping forward a bit.

"Hi, Bucky, I realize that you may be confused right now, but we are not enemies. I'm Y/N from a different timeline, and so is he." You tried to explain, you probably looked different now too, just like he is different from your Bucky. "We came from the past, all we need are just a couple of files, you are two years ahead of us. We will take them and leave."

You tried your best to explain, but he still looked at you, clueless. You looked over at your Bucky for some help but his posture remained steady, eyes still focused on the strange man in front of him. He was different from Bucky in everything but one thing. He recognized the look in his eyes.

Before he could say anything, the man lunged forward, but instead of attacking, you felt his arms surrounding you.

Maybe in this universe things were different, you mused as he engulfed you in a tight hug. This brought an onslaught of emotions that you weren't sure you were ready to deal with, so slowly you pulled him away from you within arm's reach.

The look of confusion in your eyes and the nervous smile you shot him seemed to have taken him aback.

His eyes travelled behind you to the long haired man in front of him. He took a step back.

"So, you are here from the past?" he asked you. You were still confused by him but nodded and went to add but Bucky cut you.

"Yes. We need some files that we don't have. We will be on our way once this is over." You looked down, yet another reminder of him.

"Tell me about it" he said and put his hand on your shoulder, startling you. You wished you could evade those intense eyes that seemed to follow you.

 James was walking the two of you to Tony's private lab. You couldn't say you were surprised when it was messy as ever. At least one thing is a constant in every universe.

"Okay"

But it wasn't enough for this Bucky.

He went towards you, and you could feel his hand caressing your arm, trailing his fingers up and down it. He could barely breathe.

"Okay, Barnes I take the right side, you take the left." You barely waited for your Bucky to answer before you went and started to sort through the different files on the desks and in the drawers. You could feel his gaze on you, unwavering. It felt odd. You couldn't understand it. You looked up at him and met his gaze. His eyes were still intense and glazed. Why you couldn't figure out. You settled for a small shy smile before you went back to your files.

"Can I help you," he asked you, and you could see his eyes lingering on you, on every part of you. "Y/N?"

"No, no I am fine. Thank you though." You looked at his hand on yours, and took a step back and turned around to look through the other drawers. His jaw clenched. You could still feel his eyes on you, finally exhaling a sigh of relaxation when you heard his footsteps back away.

He moved through to the other side of the room, grabbed Bucky and turned him around, keeping you in his line of sight from across the room, unaware of the two men as you searched for the files.

"She told you, didn't she?" James went straight to the point, looking at his past self with clear distaste. He will never forgive him.

"What?" Bucky looked at him, he could barely recognize himself.

"She told you she loves you, right? And you pushed her away like a damn coward. I know you're scared, but please don't shut her out and lose her because you will regret it for the rest of your life." Bucky looked up and stood defensively in front of his future self. But this was a different universe.

"You don't know what you're talking about." Bucky quickly shut him up, going to move behind him but James stopped him and Bucky looked up to see his glazed eyes.

"We both know you love her. You are going to lose her, don't take your time with her for granted, and tell her how you feel!"

"We are from different timelines, you should know this. How would you know if I have feelings for her?" James laughed lowly at that, he lowered his head and spoke bitterly.

"Because I know that there is no timeline, not even one, where we don't love her. I lost her, but you- you can still fix it." Bucky saw the desperation in his eyes.

Bucky clenched his jaw, he did not need a lecture about you. He got plenty of that from Steve already. But even his future self is wrong. He can't let himself love you, he won't. It will cost too much, not only for him, but for you. He looked back up to see James looking at you as you moved and searched- unaware of their conversation. Bucky saw it all, and it scared him. He saw the love in James' eyes, he saw disbelief and overall- sadness. Then those cold eyes landed on him.

"Well I'm sure she will be happy with whoever he is."

"No, you're going to lose her if you keep pushing her away. She's going to go on a mission alone without you and then you- I lost her" James' voice wavered and broke, Bucky was taken aback by the raw emotion his own self was showing now out in the open. "I lost her, we found her dead in the ruins, she went alone because she thought I wouldn't want to go with her on a mission that's supposed to be safe and easy. Don't let it happen to you."

"Found it!" your voice chimed as you rose up. "Let's go Barnes."

The two supersoldiers turned to look at you, two separate stares that were so different. You just couldn't quite place it.

"Please." James begged Bucky and it was only then that Bucky found himself in the stranger. He could see the broken man in the broken stare. He was broken for a different reason now.

Bucky gulped and followed along James who followed more closely to you, guiding you along to where you wanted to go. It took Bucky a moment to catch up with you.

It's a different timeline and universe.

He went with you and James until you were back where you came from. Just about to leave when James goes ahead and hugs you.

You are surprised by his tight hug, but you decided to hug him back. As you stepped back you saw the emotions in his eyes, you didn't understand so a short smile would do, before the two of you came back to the present.

It's a different timeline with a different ending.

James wept the minute you disappeared in front of him, he decided to pick up flowers before going to visit you. It was almost the two year mark anyway.

 You didn't say anything when you walked to the elevators with Bucky. He cleared his throat when the door closed behind you.

"So," he started a conversation with you to your surprise. "What are you doing this weekend?"

His face turned pale when he looked at you- head forward as you tightened your ponytail before exiting the elevator to your floor.

"Oh, I'll be out on a solo mission, so nothing much"

Without a goodbye.

It was a different timeline, right?

He went back to his room, sitting down on the bed, forgoing showering he took off his armor and laid his arms on his thighs, head falling down.

He knew what was going to happen before he even felt the sting behind his eyes, he knew his look would match the look of his future self.

 Bucky decided to go up to your floor. You yelped when he barged into your room, closing the door shut behind him.

He was scared as hell, more scared than he'd been his entire life. He couldn't help the frustrated breakdown, torn by the knowledge.

"What the-" you turned around to the intruder, surprised to see Bucky standing there; you really thought this was done with. After that mission you wouldn't have to deal with this mess anymore.

"Don't go." Was all he said.

"Don't go on that mission."

"What? You're not making any sense, what are you doing here? Get out, we're not friends you made that very clear" He didn't budge.

"Why won't I go on that mission?" you were more confused than angry right now. "It's not a decision"

"Don't go alone, please" the desperation in his voice only annoyed you more. Scratch that, you were angrier now.

"Look, we are not friends, you said that. I have no idea what you're talking about but it's an easy mission, I know you wouldn't want to go on a stupid mission with me for nothing so I'm going alone, it's not a problem!"

"You are not going alone." He took a step towards you and you swallowed, you've worked so hard to not be near him and then he decides to make it harder for you. From all the anger, you missed his glassy eyes.

"And why the hell not?" you asked and he then snapped at you.

"Because I can't lose you, I can't I can't." he dropped to his knees in front of you and held onto your thighs, his face buried in your stomach but through the muffled sounds you heard his sobs. You stood there frozen in place.

"Don't go, please don't go. Don't leave me, stay with me. Please, please Y/N"

You were both confused and worried at the same time, the anger dispersed into nothing. You couldn't make sense of his words. Him asking you to stay with him? Saying he can't lose you? Not knowing what to do you carded your fingers through his hair, raking your fingernails on his scalp, and trying to calm him down.

"Hey, Bucky it's okay I'm here. Please can you explain to me what's wrong?" his sobs calmed down just by a bit. He wasn't loud now but you could still feel the tears staining your shirt, the grip on your thighs tight.

"Just don't go, okay? Please Y/N I love you, I love you I can't lose you." That made you falter, your thoughts cut out to silence. You heard his sobs and your own racing heartbeat.

"What?" you stared at his head, his face still hidden. Bucky's breaths were heavy and still unsteady, he stopped crying. "You don't need to make stuff up Bucky, I won't go, you don't need to lie okay? I won't go."

He shook his head against you. His hands now travelled to your hips, still holding you, he leaned back a bit to look at you. Your heart broke at the sight.

"I'm not lying, I do love you, I love you so much Y/N it scares me; please believe me and don't go on that mission. Please. Even if you hate me after everything I said- it's okay, but just don't go. I lied, I did, I said I didn't love you but that's not true, I love you so much and I-" He bit his lip as more tears came out and another heartbreaking sob pierced through, your own eyes getting teary just from seeing him in this state, you put your hands on his shoulders to stabilize yourself. "I can't stand you getting hurt. I don't deserve you, I'll hurt you and you'll get hurt because of me and I can't watch that because I love you. But please don't go on that mission."

"Bucky-" your own voice was faltering a bit, shocked at his words. He put his head on your stomach again.

"I know you probably hate me, and you have every reason to, but I need you to know that I do, I do feel that way which is why I can't- I won't let you go on that mission. Please just stay here doll, please."

You were quiet for a bit. You took his hands off of you and bent down on your knees to face him. Your hands moved up to his cheeks, lifting his face.

"Then why, why did you say that we couldn't be friends?" you saw the vulnerability in his eyes, it matched the hurt one in yours.

"It would've hurt you"

"This hurt me more" You explained to him.

"I'm sorry" you wiped his tears away.

"It's okay I forgive you," you took a breath, still scared to say it after what happened the first time. "I still love you, that didn't change."

He looked at you steadily, and gently leaned in to kiss you. Just barely. It wasn't rough or full of passion, but it was what you two needed. It was the comfort, the relief, the 'it's going to get better', the 'I promise', the 'stay'.

It was a gentle kiss of a new hopeful beginning.

You parted after a few moments, both of you calmed down now. He let out a content steady breath, a hint of a smile was on his face.

"Please stay with me"

"I will."

 Tags: @callmeluna  @sstanbarnes @buckys-other-punk @drabblewithfrannybarnes @easygoingtheatre @that-one-person  @justab-eautifulmess   @wipplogg  @supraveng  @bucky-the-thigh-slayer  @ayybtch  

[fandomvariousness]

you wouldn't want me to pt. 2

pt. 1 -> x

pairing: eren jaeger x reader

warnings: blood, mentions of death, cheating, smut: dub-con, mild masochism, dacryphilia, choking, creampie, size kink, overstimulation

request: "pleaseee a part two to "you wouldn't want me to" with the smut"

word count: 2.9k

a/n: ayo i'm team armin but boyeee sometimes it feels nice to digress ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

“We’ll stop here for the night.” you heard Eren command someone, and the carriage stopped.

They covered your eyes and tied your hands behind your backs, so even while you sat huddled next to Armin you couldn’t wrap your hands around him, and neither could he.

You heard steps come into the carriage, followed by a set of rough hands that led you off. Judging by the grass under your feet, you figured the whole caravan stopped at one of the cottages for the night. Once the grass turned into the parquet of the cottage, an alarm rang in your head, realizing that whoever’s leading you isn’t stopping.

“Wait,” you breathed out quietly, all your anger being replaced by panic. “Armin?”

“Y/N!” you heard his voice somewhere behind you.

Judging by the commotion and the wave of swears and slurs, everyone was being stuffed into solitary rooms.

“Stop, stop!” you yelled, your anger coming back, feet stubbornly pushing against the ground. “Armin!” you yelled again, roughly jerking your frame in hopes of getting away.

“No Armin,” your captor whispered in your ear. “just me.”

Your face sank at the realization that it’s him. Even though your heart fluttered, just for a second, making you hate yourself for it, the odium seeped into your blood the very instant you heard his voice.

"You, little –" you didn't get to finish your slur as he pushed you into the room, shutting the door locked behind him.

You stumbled on your feet, the moment of misbalance bringing you down to the hard ground with a dull thud.

You were so angry that you still tried to squirm out of your bindings, just so that you could have a chance to strangle him with your own hands. You felt him approaching as you huffed and panted angrily in your efforts, feeling the eye band and rope binding your wrists come off.

You squinted from the sudden painful contact with the lamplight, rubbing your sore wrists.

“I could really kill you right now,” you spoke with a trembling voice. “I fucking hate you, Eren.”

The anger was manifesting in a form of hot tears that threatened to spill down your cheeks any moment; you hated the way you’d cry once infuriated.

You hated it, but Eren fucking loved it. He took a discreet deep breath to quench the feeling that arose upon seeing your glassy eyes, the sight going straight to his dick. He loved seeing you so conflicted with your feelings, especially when he's the culprit.

"Always wanted to hear you say that," he said with a smug smile that you wanted to wipe off with a slap so bad.

And so that’s what you did. You huffed in anger and closing the space between the two of you with a couple of steps, sent a dry slap across his cheek.

His eyes shut closed as his head turned to the side, a shiver running through his body, orange pre-shifting sparks flying around his head like a halo.

“Do that again and see what happens.” Eren liked what you did to him, but he wanted to frighten you into thinking he would shift.

You gulped, trying to hide your rising panic, as you let your burning palm hang limply beside you.

“What,” you breathed out, carefully calculating your next words. “you’re going to shift and kill everyone inside, even your beloved minions?”

He barely reacted, except for his eyes running over your body, making you realize just how close you two are standing to each other.

“Not before I have something I want.”

You exhaled curtly as you looked down, trying to escape the hazy feeling that was gradually clouding over your mind.

“Eren, unlock the –” he interrupted you by gripping your chin between his thumb and index finger, forcing you to look into his bottle-green eyes.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never wondered what it would feel like.”

You felt your face heating as you failed to control your emotions. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He smiled smugly again just before he claimed your lips with his, sucking your soul out. His hand rested dangerously low on your hip, teasing you with the possibility of gripping it tighter at any moment.

“Stop,” you muttered in between the kisses. “Eren, stop!” you shoved him away, all flustered, turning around and steeping towards the window to gaze at the night sky that was just starting to appear.

You panted heavily as the realization of what just happened was sinking into you.

“How can you do this to Armin?” you asked, trying to refrain your trembling voice from breaking completely. “To me?”

He chuckled quietly, revealing his stance just behind you. “I’m going to die soon anyway.”

You hated when they did that. You hated when either Eren or Armin spoke about the fact that they only have a few years left to live. In fact, you hated it so much you forbade them to even speak about it. Even if Eren is not exactly in your good graces right now, you still hated it.

You unclenched your burning fists in an attempt to compose yourself.

“You may disappear, but your actions won't," you said as you turned around to face him.

"I don't care about that," he said nonchalantly. "Hell, Armin's going to go shortly after I do, so you shouldn't even think about the consequences – we will both be dead."

You bit your lip so hard upon hearing the mention of Armin’s impending death you may have drawn blood. You snapped again as you sent your palm flying across his face, but this time he immediately turned his face back and crushed his lips on your bloody ones.

You whined at the tingling of the tiny wound where you bit your lip, droplets of blood staining Eren’s own lips. His palms squeezed your buttocks, bringing your centers together; you gasped as you felt his semi-hard tent against you.

You withdrew from him like a whimpering mess, pushing your dainty palms at his chest to refrain him from connecting your lips again. You turned around in panic and saw your blurry reflection in the window, both of your lips stained with the crimson of your blood.

You yelped briefly as you felt his hands on your hips again, his heavy breathing tickling your skin when he leaned his face towards the crook of your swan-like neck.

“Just this once,” he breathed out, giving a brief slip to his own desperation. “and then I’ll go. I’ll leave you all alone.”

You trembled as you struggled to make a decision: your body already made one, relishing at the feeling of his front against your back, of his stealthy, barely traceable grinding against your frame, but your mind tried so hard to resist.

His hands were roaming all over your body, quite literally driving you insane: the way his palm ran up and down your thigh, the other appreciating the curve of your waist before sneaking its way under your white uniform shirt – it made you moan quietly, realizing that your mind had already lost.

“Did you really never wonder how it would feel like with me?” he whispered smokily.

Of course, you did. You never missed the way his thumb would stroke over your skin whenever he would get the chance to place his hand on your shoulder, you never missed the feeling you got when his eyes would linger on you for a bit too long – all of it burned into your mind.

You were somewhere else entirely as your eyes fluttered closed, head leaning back against his frame; his hand came to cup your breast, gently massaging it, melting your whole stance into a puddle.

As you failed to answer, having lost yourself in a sensual mass of his touches, you felt his hand grip the base of your neck. “Did you?”

Your eyes shot open as the force of his grip grew stronger, making you grasp his hand for some sort of leverage.

“Huh?” he repeated.

"I did." You confessed.

You didn’t see it, but you knew Eren grinned widely against your neck just before he pecked it. “Of course you did.”

His hand retreated from your neck as he gripped your hips, pressing you against the window-sill. “Did you sometimes think about me when you were doing it with Armin?”

You felt tears prickle at the corners of your eyes as you realized this was too much to admit.

“Eren,” you shook your head in protest.

Eren loved seeing you squirm, he loved torturing you like that, and he wasn’t going to stop. He snuck his hand to cup your burning center, making you cry out and shiver at the needed contact.

“I bet you almost cried out my name accidentally a couple of times, didn’t you? Just like you did now?”

You sobbed quietly, but Eren brushed his tongue against your ear, turning it into a broken moan mid-way. “Say it again, say my name.”

You didn’t realize how your hips rolled against Eren’s hand massaging your warm, slick center; he controlled you as a puppeteer controls his puppet, and you knew it all too well.

“Eren,” you moaned genuinely.

“Shit,” Eren spat out as your mewling went directly to his painfully hard dick.

You choked at the sensation of his fingers sneaking under your panties, coming through your slick folds and finding the little pearlet of pleasure.

“Yes, yes,” you whimpered as he returned the other hand to your breast.

Eren was losing control rapidly, but he wanted to toy with you just a bit more – he probably wouldn’t get another chance.

“Want me to fill you up?” he knew that it was immensely hard for you to admit that you actually want him, and so he purposely pushed you down this guilt trip.

Your eyebrows knitted together out of inner turmoil, but you nodded. “Yes, I do, Eren, please –”

You were an absolute whimpering mess, struggling to weave a proper sentence together, voice broken and trembling – you just wanted him to fill you and ease the sexual tension that would always follow you two.

He chuckled against your cheek as he worked his way with your pants, pushing them down below your ass, cool air hitting your skin and sending a wave of shivers. “To think you were so reluctant before.”

Oh, you still were, in a sense. You knew guilt is going to consume you after, but you cannot control yourself anymore. It’s just the effect that Eren has on people, on you.

You leaned your palms against the edge of the window-sill, anticipating the breach, shallow breaths leaving patches of mist on the glass that would disappear in a moment.

“Ah,” you yelped cutely and rested your heated forehead against the cool glass as you felt Eren’s tip against your slick entrance.

His hand weaved itself around your neck in protest and leaned you back closer to him, bending your spine into a beautiful arch. He ran his other hand up and down your stretched stomach as he eased himself into you, coaxing out a series of broken moans from your mouth.

“Fuck,” you yelped in a high-pitched voice, holding on to that window-sill for dear life.

“So tight, so tight,” Eren whispered to himself, lost in his own bliss as his head hung low on your shoulder.

You yelped in pain as he was approaching your cervix. “W-Wait, ah, it’s too—too—”

“It’s what, baby?” his fingers dug into your hips, bringing you down on his dick a bit further. “What?”

"Too—ah, fuck—too big!" you cried.

You were ashamed of yourself that you enjoyed his dick tearing you apart that much, but you couldn't lie to yourself in this state, not anymore; it's like you're a whole other person.

Eren’s dick twitched inside you at your word. “Bigger than Armin’s, yeah?”

You nodded curtly, doing anything to ease away the dull ache and the guilt that was tickling somewhere at the back of your head. “Yeah,”

He ran his tongue along the vertical curve of your neck, starting to move steadily.

You kept your mouth open as you were even struggling to breathe, Eren's presence consuming the whole of you. You bent your hand backward and ran your fingers through the back of his head, loosening the bun he’s weaved his hair into.

“Faster,” you commanded, catching Eren by surprise. “Please, Eren,”

The sound of you begging for him drove him feral. He wanted to fuck your brains out, but he knew he won’t have another chance to relish in you like that – slowly, sensually, lovingly.

“Patience, baby,” he said to you and to himself at the same time. “Mm, you feel so good.”

The room was rapidly filled with both of your moans as Eren pounded into you rhythmically. His hand snuck to rest on your lower stomach, feeling his own tip stretching your insides.

“Wanted to have you for so long," Eren let his thoughts slip up; he enjoyed destroying you like this, but he failed to consider his own weaknesses coming to the surface. "Could never get you out of my head."

His own confessions were like a catalyst to your approaching release, which was threateningly close now.

“Ah, Eren, I’m gonna cum, I’m cumming,”

You screamed so loud he had to cover your mouth with his palm – he wouldn’t want others to condemn you for doing this for the reasons they don’t even understand. Eren himself was close, so close – but there was one more thing he wanted to do.

“Feel good? Yeah?” Eren questioned, containing his own release with all his will, still pounding into you. “Give me another, baby.” His hand reached down to your oversensitive clit.

“Wait, Eren, I just came, I—” you choked, tears welling up in your eyes from overstimulation; yet it felt so good.

“Shh, you can take it,” he cajoled.

It didn’t take long for him to give you another orgasm, not at all – all it took was a few circular strokes with the right amount of pressure, and you came clenching around his dick again, this time covering your mouth with your own palms. Eren buried his head in your disheveled hair as he groaned out in pleasure, bursting deep inside you.

“Fuck,” he blabbered, eyes closed, feeling your shivering, fragile frame falling apart in front of him. He tried not to think too much about the fact that he came inside you, the act contradicting his beliefs and plans.

His hands came snaking around your waist, pulling you closer gently, planting a few kisses on the top of your head. "You did so well."

You couldn’t say a word as you pulled your pants up before you turned around to face him, seeing him buttoning his own.

Something came onto you as you cupped his face and kissed him gently. Now that really did take Eren by surprise.

“What was that for?” he asked quietly after a moment of silence.

You shrugged. “Just felt like kissing you.”

He suppressed a smile as he leaned his palms against the window-sill, trapping you in between his hands, your noses almost brushing. “You won’t be too pissed with me now, will you?”

You raised an eyebrow. “You said it yourself, you’ll die soon, so why do you care?”

"Clever", thought Eren as he continued exploring the pools of your glistening eyes. He withdrew slowly, towering over you as he took your chin between his thumb and index finger, just like he did before. He ran his thumb over a little patch of dried blood from when you bit your lip.

You almost gasped at the absence of his touch when he released you altogether, making his way to the door, unlocking it; you remained in your place, watching him closely, trying to stop him with nothing but your gaze.

He did stop, even though only momentarily. He had already opened the door as he turned his head back to take you in – face still heated, chest rising up and down, hair tousled, gaze… longing?

Something tingled deep inside his chest at the thought that he could’ve had you as his own if the circumstances were different, much different. If only he wasn’t so heavily burdened and consumed by eternal hatred.

He snapped out of his momentary ominous trance.

“Sleep well, Y/N.” he closed the door without another word, locking you from the outside.

Once he was gone, you allowed yourself to exhale properly. You gulped, making your way to the bathroom. You turned on the tap and plugged the bath, letting yourself sob loudly as you remove your clothes.

You didn't want to wash his touches from your skin, but at the same time, you had to – how are you going to face Armin afterward?

Yet the guilt mainly came from the absence of it – no matter how sure and scared you were that it's going to consume you afterward, it didn't.

You don’t want to lose neither Armin nor Eren, and you’re going to do everything in your power to hold on to them both for as long as you can, for as long as they walk the same soil as you.

[fantasia-monogram]

Happy birthday (the cupcakes are ruined)

♥️ Jaeyoon x gender neutral reader.

♥️ Smut; just 2k words (!) of what I'd call comfort porn, lol. It's Jaeyoon's birthday. An awkward first time handjob with a little sprinkle of oral happens. Jaeyoon is a total sweetheart and the reader tries their best! You could almost take it as a crack fic, I guess I can't take anything seriously (and I imagine sexy time with Jaeyoon must be fun anyway).

♥️ Disclaimer: this is just for fun! I’m not claiming that’s how he is in real life, it’s just my imagination doing whatever it wants. Read at your own discretion.

Baking cupcakes, decorating them, waiting for Jaeyoon to come back from work, then cuddling together and, if it escalated, an extra surprise the mere thought of made your heart beat faster... Through the three months of your relationship, you’ve already figured your boyfriend wasn’t big on celebrations, and his busy work schedule didn’t leave much time to elaborate plans anyway. That’s why your idea for the night was fairly simple.

Except, here you were, staring in disbelief at the burnt cupcakes. You could swear you only left the kitchen for two minutes, long before the set baking time. You carefully peeled each cupcake one from the silicone mold in hopes they could, somehow, still be salvageable. Well, you were in for a disappointment, as the burn had already reached way below the crust the moment you turned off the oven.

The sound of the front door opening caused you to hold your breath in horror.

“Baby, I’m home,” you heard Jaeyoon announcing. His voice was noticeably tired.

You froze, still holding one of the silicon molds, unsure of what to do.

“I’m gonna shower first, okay?”

He didn’t wait for your answer, instead going straight to the bathroom.

Two rooms away, you were trying to think of something. You must have lost track of time again, because it felt as if your boyfriend finished showering in seconds.

The moment you caught him standing in the doorway, you threw a kitchen towel over the tray and, for safety measures, moved to the side in a way that made you cover any proof of your failure.

“Happy birthday!” you exclaimed cheerfully. “By the way, the cupcakes are ruined.”

Jaeyoon blinked a couple times, then snorted, visibly amused.

“It’s fine, baby. Thank you anyway,” he said with a smile, approaching. He sneaked his arms around your waist, glancing over your outfit, which was a very bold word, considering it consisted of baby pink briefs and an oversized white T-shirt.

Another thing he wasn’t big on was wearing clothes at home. You were still warming up to the idea, so you always had to throw something on top (comfy sweats or T-shirts were acceptable, and he wasn’t really a fan of fancy underwear either - you appreciated that greatly). Jaeyoon, however, unashamedly walked around in briefs only. God, it wasn’t easy for you. You couldn’t say you didn’t like what you saw, but it was so distracting it almost forced you to keep eye contact with him.

Looking anywhere else would make you blush profusely.

You snatched his attention away by placing a kiss on the tip of his nose.

“There is still one more present I have for you…” you started, looking up at him.

“What is it?” he asked, smiling. Damn, those cute dimples…

As an answer, you glided your hand from between his exposed pecs, down his abs and happy trail, stopping at the edge of his underwear, cautiously hooking a finger under it.

“Hey, we don’t have to.” Jaeyoon kissed your forehead, lightly grabbing your wrist. “Haven’t you told me you don’t feel ready yet?”

“I’m not ready to go all the way,” you explained, looking to the side, “But I wanna take a little step forward tonight.”

You pulled out of his grip and, biting your lip, placed your hand on his already impressive bulge. You didn’t expect it to be so warm to the touch.

“Okay, maybe not so little”, you snorted.

“Are you sure?” Jaeyoon uttered, sounding a bit out of breath.

You nodded with a smile on your lips.

Your boyfriend, despite very obvious physical attraction to you, has always been a total sweetheart when it came to reaching next levels of intimacy. He knew you had no real experience and never pushed you into anything. It took you over a month to get from shy smooches on the cheek to actual making out, and even then, whenever he’d get too aroused, he’d stop in his tracks and ask you to let him cool down a bit. You almost couldn’t believe his patience, even though he’d insist he was just being a decent human being everytime - that wasn’t the experience you had with your exes, though.

This time, you had no intention to leave him with nothing.

“Do we go to the bedroom, or…” you stopped mid sentence, courage leaving you all of sudden.

“I don’t mind just staying in the kitchen,” he replied, planting another kiss, this time on the side of your neck. “It’s so nice and toasty in here after all that baking.” Another one. “Or maybe it’s just because I’m excited for your present.”

You felt a warm shiver spreading through your body. You motioned Jaeyoon towards the counter before the arousal could haze your mind completely.

A makeout session with a lot of tongue followed, with him leaning against the edge of the counter while you trapped him in place with your arms. You really felt in control despite the height difference, plus, it gave you a nice opportunity to squeeze his glorious butt from time to time - he seemed to like it a lot, moaning into your mouth each time you did that.

One particularly low moan encouraged you to slide your hands to his front. He kept you so occupied with his kisses that you pushed his briefs down almost absentmindedly, while you two stayed pressed tightly against each other.

The weight and warmth of Jaeyoon’s hard cock, that you could feel against your stomach even through the fabric of your shirt, made you break the kiss with a surprised gasp.

Jaeyoon giggled sweetly.

“I guess I did get a bit too excited, after all.”

He pulled back (not without pecking your cheek for a good measure) and carefully sat on the floor. After a short hiss because of the direct contact with the cool tiles, he leaned against the cabinet door below the counter.

Not breaking eye contact, he shamelessly spread his legs.

“So, what are we doing?” he asked with a wink.

Doing your best to hold back a nervous laugh, you sat in front of him, the lewd sight of your boyfriend sprawled for you like that making your head spin with desire. You never felt like this for any of your previous partners, but Jaeyoon absolutely deserved to take all of your firsts.

“I was… thinking…” you mumbled, finding it hard to not glance at his dick every now and then, “I just wanted to focus on you tonight… Maybe I could use my hands?”

You hesitantly looked into Jaeyoon’s eyes. The tender gaze he gave you caused your heart to swell with love.

He reached for your hands and held them delicately.

“Can’t wait, baby,” he whispered, “I’m going to guide you, okay?”

A chuckle escaped your mouth. He really couldn’t give up on any chance to hold your hands.

Not wasting any more time, you looked up at the counter. Conveniently, a jar of organic coconut oil was within your reach, so you grabbed it together with a spoon placed nearby.

“It’s fine to use this as lube, right?” you made sure, uncapping the jar. “I’ve read it somewhere over the Internet.”

“It’s more than fine,” Jaeyoon reassured you, tactfully omitting his amusement over your possible research.

Well, your search history was already messed up. It better be worth it.

Jaeyoon’s face was getting flushed; you’d find it cute if not for the situation you found yourself in.

You spooned a hefty amount of oil. After moving the jar out of the picture, you slathered the makeshift lube all over your palms.

“Where do we begin?”

In a matter of seconds, your hands were in Jaeyoon’s again. He guided your left hand to hold his cock at the base. The sight was mouth watering --- your palm looked so small against the thickness of his shaft, but you did your best, holding it firmly with the pressure suggested by Jaeyoon himself.

He made you circle your right hand around him, with your thumb resting against the underside. Here, the pressure applied wasn’t as hard, so your boyfriend started guiding you through the entire length with slow, careful strokes. The whole experience was so intense for you, even though you were the one pleasuring your boyfriend; his cock was so hard and hot, you could feel all the veins under your fingers, and the gentle guidance only made it feel even more intimate.

The strokes became faster and more desperate. Jaeyoon would let out a breathless moan every time you squeezed his cock near the top. Soon enough, when you brushed your thumb over the head, you noticed pearly droplets of precum smearing along with it.

You didn’t even realize how fast your breathing has become. You caught yourself letting out a quiet, breathy moan from time to time, now unable to look away from the filthy sight in front of you.

The best thing about it? Jaeyoon’s whines were becoming louder and more prolonged with each jerking move now. You could see his arms and thighs shaking.

“Let me…” you whispered, your voice hushed by the weight of your desire.

Jaeyoon let you take control, his hands now squeezed into fists, resting on his thighs. Since you got the gist of the stroking already, you dared to glance at your boyfriend’s face.

He looked divine and so vulnerable at the same time: his head thrown back, image of pure bliss on his face. His sculpted chest heaving for air. His abs quivering.

You couldn’t believe it was you who turned him into this gorgeous mess.

“Oh God…”, he moaned, eyelashes fluttering, heart-shaped lips just slightly open. “You’re doing amazing… Baby…”

You couldn’t hold back a giddy smile that beamed across your lips. Turning your gaze back at his cock, you saw - and felt, oh, you felt it so well - it twitch.

As another motion reached just under the crown, Jaeyoon’s hands were back on yours, this time stopping you from any movement.

“Stop... Wait...” he pleaded, breathing heavily, sweat rolling down his chest. “Gonna cum…”

“Isn’t that like… the whole point?” you asked innocently. Jaeyoon looked back at you, wide-eyed.

He didn’t want you to move your hands anymore? Fine.

You licked your lips and leaned towards his shaft. Mustering up your courage, you kissed the tip tenderly, making a soft, wet sound.

Things happened quickly. You didn’t even get a chance to fully lean back to your previous position when you heard Jaeyoon whine loudly. You felt him tighten the grip on your wrists. Next thing you knew, he came in thick spurts on your chest and neck, some of it even hitting the lower side of your cheek.

You froze for a moment. Did you just really… bring him over the edge? With so little touching?

Jaeyoon’s long sigh snapped you out of your musings. He finally let his hands slide off yours. You let go of his spent cock, putting it down as gently as you could.

Your boyfriend tucked his fingers under your chin. He raised it so you could face him.

His relaxed smile was a tell-tale sign you did an amazing job.

“There is my birthday cupcake,” Jaeyoon murmured, smearing his cum on your face with his thumb, squishing your cheek a bit too much in the process. “With icing and stuff.”

You tried to playfully squirm away, but he firmly held your chin in place and leaned down to give you a deep, messy kiss.

Jaeyoon backed off a little to look into your eyes again. His gaze dropped down theatrically. You followed it, only to discover there was a wet spot on the light pink fabric of your briefs.

“It’s a moist one, too.”

Before you even thought of getting embarrassed, he hooked his arm tightly around your waist. He easily lifted you off the floor, only to seat you on the kitchen counter.

He situated himself between your spread legs.

“I better eat it before it gets all soggy.”

[spasmsofthought]

flashes. (dick grayson x reader)

I’m not really well-versed in DC, at all, but I wanted to give this a shot. let me know what you think! It’s a bit of a mess, so please take this with a grain of salt and some grace. sorry if he feels ooc; I tried my best but I am by no means an expert or even an amateur. please be kind. idk if i’ll write anymore for him, but i wanted to try. it might be trash but it’s out there now xo

-- 

It’s not like Gotham is known for being a walk in the park. The city is all alleys in the middle of the night, dark vapors rising from sewers, and secrets in the shadows. At least, in your experience. 

There were no gated communities or fences to keep the darkness out in the apartment complex you lived in with your family. Only survival and common sense keeps you returning to your bed and food on the table.

So, when your younger (genius) brother is offered a scholarship to Gotham Academy on what feels like a whim, the world shifts. 

When your mother still works, though, it means you are the de-facto adult during the day. Your job keeps your busy in the mornings, hers during the afternoon and night. You’re just getting into learning what it’s like to handle a job and bills of your own, even though you’re still living with your family (part of it is to save money, part of it is because you just don’t want to leave). Your family is the only real home you have ever known. Why leave to only find inadequate housing where you have to worry about your safety and theirs separately?

So, like every month, you swap out of your work clothes, put on your newest (at least 2 years old) pair of jeans on, the only blouse you own that hasn’t faded or stretched or shrunk from countless wash cycles, and grab the bag you’ve stored in its own special place in the cabinet by your family’s loud, old, run-down fridge. 

You chance a ride on the bus, hopeful for no public catastrophes today. You listen to your small, but loved, playlist through the one earbud that works during the ride and you almost want to leap with joy when you step back down on concrete like this is what it is like everyday.

The architecture is a thing to behold. There is no wonder why this is acclaimed as the most prestigious private school in Gotham. Light is everywhere, and it’s like the outside world doesn’t exist. Every month you step on this campus it’s like you’ve never seen it before.

The grounds are meticulously groomed, everything in lines and straight edges. Concrete and nineteenth century buildings both cast heavy, sharp shadows in the late afternoon sun. There are some students lingering about, all grouped up and chattering in their similar uniforms. Compared to public art, haphazard graffiti, and buildings of all shapes and sizes, this place feels foreign. Different. It makes you feel strange and unwelcome; like entering a different world altogether. 

When you enter the pristine, elegant office, the entrance door propped open, there’s two figures you immediately spot: the secretary and the man standing in front of her. Your brother is yet to be found. He’s running late again. 

“Hi, hun, take a seat,” Grace’s sweet voice soothes from her position behind the desk. “He should be here any minute.” The man standing in front and a little to the right of her glances behind for second, casually swiping a look at you, before he turns forward again. 

“Thanks, Grace,” You exhale as you sit down. 

The chairs are nice, soft fabric and cushioned, but small. You so desire to bring up a leg to draw close to you, but it’s impossible without making yourself a human pretzel. And you don’t want to dirty it with your less than perfect shoes so, instead, you chose to bring the bag onto your lap and you pick at your cuticles, resisting to bring your nail to your mouth and chew on it anxiously. 

There’s never been anyone else in here when you’ve come before. Grace can make polite chatter, but then she leaves you in relative silence. It makes you feel anonymous. The man uttering sweet words to the secretary and then glancing at you again before sitting down next to you does not. You stop fidgeting with your hands and intertwine them together instead. 

A flash of the ceiling’s fluorescent lighting on glass against your eyes is what you first get a taste of, then all polish and silver, or something like it, cradling a wrist. The watch looks heavy, expensive. It looks like it could buy your family a newer, safer, apartment in a suburbia far away from here. 

“Hey,” Smooth as honey it drips out, and you are drawn to blue eyes and ebony hair. There’s a softness to his face and his eyes are warm. It would only take an hour, you think before you stop the thought from going any further. An hour to do what? You’re not sure, but the list expands the longer you take him in.

The first thing you ever learned on the streets when you walked by yourself to work was how to be aware, vigilant; on guard. Men were unpredictable creatures who were driven by greed or lust or power, and any of the good ones were swooped up and carried away to better things or dead before any second glances could take place. Or carrying on just fine behind their high fences and impenetrable walls. Just because this one introduces himself first does not mean he has proven otherwise. 

“Hi,” is all you can offer, a quirk of lips to his gesture of kindness.

You glance towards to door before your eyes make their way back to him. The gesture doesn’t offend him. There’s a familiarity to his face, but you decide to not spend time right now trying to figure it out. It already only tells you one thing: this guy is way out of your league. 

Grace gets up from her seat, rounds her desk, and makes her way out of the office, leaving you two alone. You watch her the entire time. 

“You waiting for someone?” 

“Yeah,” You nod even as the word comes out, “My brother.” 

He leans back like he’s got all the time in the world, and there’s a perusal that makes you taste butterflies and gulp down caution at the same time. You wonder if he saw the scuff marks and stains on your worn-out sneakers, or if he notices that you still haven’t had the chance to wash your three-day old hair and that’s why it’s up and back, and that your blouse is definitely from the clearance rack at Goodwill.

“Your favorite one?” 

Out of self-preservation, you try to hide the reaction to the humor you feel, “My only one.”

“I think that’s the same thing.” You almost want to roll your eyes. But there’s a genuineness in his conversation, like he means the words he’s saying to you. Like this isn’t a game. 

“Sure,” You shrug, “You’re allowed to be wrong.” 

“My name’s Richard.” It’s old-fashioned. It’s something you don’t really hear rolled off of tongues in your neck of the woods, that’s for sure. A hand comes out and rests halfway between you and him, and it’s one of the most graceful things you’ve ever witnessed in your entire life. 

“It’s nice to meet you.” You smile. Your hands stay clasped in your lap. 

“You gotta earn a handshake from my sister,” A voice pops up from the open door way. You swing your head around and watch for a moment as your brother makes his way towards you.

“Hi, J,” Your stand, open your arms wide, bag moved from your lap into one of your hands. His solid presence allows a brief hug before he steps back again. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude--” 

The man sitting next to you has chosen to rise as well and you’re closer than you thought you would be when you turn back to him. You notice now that your height means your eyes literally meet his lips straight on. There’s a curve of a smirk there for a flash of a second before it straightens back out into the smile you saw at first. The rest of your sentence is forgotten. He takes one, two, three steps back.

“You got them all?” The question saves you. Your brother pulls you back to him as you hand him the brown plastic bag. In it? His favorite snacks from the liquor store on the corner (the nearly sold-out, hard-to-come-by ones). 

“Every last one,” Your hands come to his cheeks, turning his face to each side.

You have to reach up now and it strikes you just how much he’s grown even in the past month. You both spend much of your time on the phone with one another. These monthly meetings set-up frequently enough for deliveries and some quick face-to-face time and seldom enough to avoid embarrassment (that’s what he says anyway). 

He brings the chip bag out and holds it up, “You even got these.” 

“Geraldo got them special order just for you.” 

“Tell the old man I said thanks,” He smiles like he’s seven again, spoiled and self-indulgent. “Richard” is still standing behind you and to the side, silent. You can feel his eyes flipping back and forth between the two of you. 

“Of course,” Your hands smooth over his shoulders and brush away imaginary dust. “Mom sends her love and says she’ll try and call you on her lunch in a few hours.” 

“Yeah, I know. I’ll make sure I answer.” 

“Thank you.” You exhale an affectionate sigh. 

Avoidant loner that your brother can be, there’s a reason you both want him here. He’ll be able to do the things you only dreamed of when you were his age. And one day, hopefully, you’ll all be out of this hellhole, onto better things. 

“I gotta go, but thanks for these. Even though you should be saving every penny,” He chides, holding up a finger like his words are somehow a threat. 

“Okay,” You chortle like you wouldn’t give everything up for your brother in a heartbeat. There’s another quick hug before he’s looking back at the man behind you, who is still standing there like some sort of stealth ninja. 

“Like I said man,” He nods and there’s something in his face that changes as he looks at “Richard”, “You gotta earn it.” 

It’s with those parting words that he begins to walk out. You stay stock still for a second before you leap after him, “I wanna hear all about what happened last week with Cara tomorrow on the phone!” 

Your brother, a mile away already on longs legs, shouts something indistinguishable back at you from down the hallway, his figure turning a corner.  

“Who’s Cara?” The voice brings your back to reality. 

You sweep your palms against your jeans and turn back to face the man with a three-piece suit and a watch that probably costs more than 20 years of your salary. Oh God. 

“This girl my brother asked out the other week. I bribed him with some of his favorites so he would tell me what went down.” You shrug your shoulders, not worried about spilling the tea about your brother’s romantic life. 

“Does he know that?” His arms seem to relax a little more and you think you could stare at him all day. 

“Eh,” You say, creeping back towards the open door. Your small crossbody bag is already on you and there’s no reason to sit back down. Richard follows you as you, apparently, both start to make your exit from the office. Nothing about it feels unnatural. “Sometimes you got to persuade instead of demand.” 

“Ha,” There seems to be something you are missing based on the way his mouth curves and his eyes spark, “That’s the truest thing I’ve heard in a long time.” 

“You’re welcome. That’s the only one that comes for free!” Your arms swing back and forth. “Anything else is gonna cost you.” 

The hallways usually feel like a labyrinth here, but you don’t feel lost this time. 

“What forms of payment do you accept?” You pretend to be thinking, but really you’re just glancing between the different features of his face. You’re not sure you’ve ever met someone like him. You’re not sure you ever will again.  

“The bank’s closed right now, actually,” The wariness is back. This guy walks like he’s used to treading on perfectly paved gold streets in his shoes. All you’ve ever known is cracked cement and rusted pipes that burst underground. “But I think it’ll be back up and running soon.” 

He doesn’t falter and there’s no anger or hurt in his expression at the metaphorical rejection. Instead, it looks something like silent patience. Maybe even acceptance. This guy could totally not be interested and you could just be being (too) ambitious. The door to the open courtyard, and your way home, is already before you both. 

“It was nice meeting you Richard,” You say as you begin to take steps forward. Your hands nervously hold the strap across your torso. You take a few more steps before his words turn your head back to him. 

“You can call me Dick,” He says with ease. The tone makes you feel like he’s speaking a language you don’t really understand. His blue eyes seem like they’re on fire; a contradiction, you know. There’s something about him that almost makes you catch your breath. You’ve never been been winded by just looking before. 

“Maybe I’ll see you around.” You offer, hands squeezing your bag strap. 

“I look forward to earning that handshake next time!” He calls out when you’re several feet away. 

I think you’ll earn a lot more than that, you almost say, but refrain. 

Instead, you wave back to him once before making your way out of the courtyard, caught between staring at your shoes and looking ahead to make sure you’re going to right way. You smile and daydream the entire bus ride home. Blue becomes your favorite color. 

[matthewbeilschmidts]

It’s been a long while since I’ve posted but I’m so glad that I am :’)

This is for Day 1: of @prucanweek - Ordinary

Apologies for spelling errors, it’s a little short but I hope you enjoy 😭💞

-

Matthew doesn’t mind that he’s living an ordinary life. Really.

He grows up near the coast, two parents, a fraternal twin brother, and their gangly hairless cat, Tony (picked curtesy of Alfred). Their parents take them everywhere they can during their childhood, the beach, museums, sports game. They focus on their interests, figuring out what the two like and dislike, as they encourage them both to be themselves and do what they love no matter what. Alfred debates between whether he likes wrestling or football more, while Matthew settles into hockey. In between family get togethers, community festivals, and endless sports training, they somehow have time for homework. (The two share answers a lot.)

He and Alfred each have their own rooms when they enter their teen years, a space to decorate and fill with their own mementos and awards. The sports continue, but later their parents find themselves a little bit busier than before. They do though, give them as much time as they can during the school year, never wanting them to go without someone by their side.

Matthew fades into the background a little bit as they get older, while Alfred puts himself front and center. Matthew watches once with a hand over his eyes as Alfred auditions for the school musical, and surprisingly he read and sings the lines well. “It’s always the rowdy ones!” their theater teachers says after he’s finished performing, a mix of anticipation from planning on putting Alfred on stage and dread at the thought of having to manage him.

Matthew silently supports him, after all he has his own things to do.

He’s the co-caption of the hockey team, the coach giving him the position to give him a little more of a voice, and his teammates verbally agree, considering on the ice Matthew has a lot more to show than he does in person. He accepts, albeit hesitantly.

By the time graduation comes by, Matthew can barely believe how the time has passed. His team even wins a championship under his watch. Some of his fellow classmates look so ready to go out and experience the world, and it’s scary to him because weren’t they all going at the same pace?

His parents talk him through picking his college of choice, and he decides to go. He needs to do what everyone does and experience the world.

And if he decides he wants to come home, that’s okay because at least he tries.

-

He’s in his first art class during his third year at university. The time has been going well, he’s got pretty decent grades and has managed to join a few clubs. But he’s not done yet. Extra curriculars, can’t finish without them. He prioritizes his general education first, and even slips himself into a few major classes early on, but humanities is on record now and has to be completed no matter what one’s studying.

He can get through one semester, he hopes.

Next to him, a student is snickering and the professor doesn’t look amused.

“Gilbert.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“If you’re done, I can introduce myself now.”

The professor goes in with complete, in-depth introductory slides with her name and credentials, and a briefing of all they will overcome this semester.

He’s never been an artist, at least not one that picks up a pencil and creates a realistic masterpiece with nothing but that and a pad of paper. Maybe some poetry contests in high school, if that counts. The written word has its own impact, its own set of colors to breathe out for the world to see.

There’s another snicker, interrupting his internal monologue.

He doesn’t say anything, because he doesn’t know the student, and it’s not his place to control others. But, if it starts to hinder the class, maybe he’ll tell him something. He’s paying to be there, too.

The man catches him staring.

“Yes?” he asks Matthew without being spoken to in the first place.

“Oh,” Matthew flushes at being caught, not that he was trying to hide it anyway. “Well, she didn’t say anything funny?”

The guys waves a hand, making a “psssh” noise as he does.

“I’m just laughing because of how formal this all is. She won’t be this dignified later in the semester that’s for sure. She’ll be ripping her hair out.”

Matthew glances back, he doesn’t want to say anyone looks mean but, he would believe it if she was.

“You look scared,” the guy laughs, which is rude because isn’t he the one that just put the thought in Matthew’s mind? “She’s not too mean just a sticker to the rules. Will get real pissy if something doesn’t go right.”

“And you still set her off knowing that?”

The man laughs again, but this time around he’s actually trying to contain it behind the thin art easel. He’s not very hidden.

“She’s my cousin’s wife.”

Ah, that makes sense then? Messing with family is normal, but also he shouldn’t be bothering her at work.

“It’s no wonder you seemed casual.”

“She taught both of the lower division figure drawing classes, too. This is my third semester in her class. She’s the only one teaching this specific class I didn’t have too much of a choice.”

“Art major?”

“Yep! And you?”

“Psychology major. I have to get in some cultural classes.”

“Ever taken art?”

“Actually no, not even in high school. I got through that stuff by working backstage in the theater department.”

“Well not to worry my friend, because you picked the best one.”

“Is it easy to pass?”

“Nope. Well, maybe if she likes your work,” Matthew deflates at the blunt response, “but don’t worry because I’m here to be your guide.”

Matthew perks up, but it takes him a moment. This guy’s gonna help him?

“Are you any good?”

“Am I good?” He looks perplexed Matthew would even ask. Matthew has to cover his own amusement. “I may not look it but charcoal and I go way back. I’ll show you my work later as proof.”

“Deal.”

“Gilbert, since you’re adamant on talking, you can be the first to introduce yourself.”

Even if his name wasn’t said, Matthew feels just as guilty. Caught, for talking on the first day of all things.

“Gilbert Beilshcmidt. Fourth year. I’m an art major and my favorite breakfast food is pancakes.”

Matthew looks surprised that he was paying attention, even to the last addition of their introduction. Matthew’s not sure he would have known considering he was distracted.

-

And so their friendship starts.

-

Gilbert sits next to him again. And again.

Where ever Matthew sits in the art room, Gilbert follows not too long after.

Some days they take the sitting desks, some they stand and lean against the stools.

And despite not even talking much, Gilbert treats him like a friend.

-

“Do you have any plans this afternoon?”

“Nope, this was my last class.”

“Do you want to get some coffee and work on our sketch books.”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

-

Matthew finds himself meeting Gilbert in his downtime. Every Thursday after drawing for three hours becomes the day they meet. At first, all they do is draw, little more.

Gilbert is animated in all moments, but he has short spurts where he focuses exceptionally on his work. Matthew is no art critic, but he thinks Gilbert expresses himself quite well on paper. Graphite, charcoal, and pastels, all the utensils glide easily without a single stroke missing its mark.

Watercolor though, could use some work, which actually happens to be Matthew’s favorite. Even if the intention is to guide the colors with a brush, it’s okay for them to take a life of their own spreading across the thick paper.

They share snacks, art supplies, and their time.

Gilbert proves himself very useful as he promised. Matthew though never planning to be the next Van Gogh, has to pass this class. And it would be nice to pass it with flying colors, but some concepts are harder to grasp than others.

It’s obvious to tell he’s a beginner, while Gilbert excels. Matthew finds out he only now needs the intro class since it’s the first semester it became a requirement.

Gilbert helps him find the shapes he’s comfortable with, explains the processing for hatching and how it relates to shading. And while he’s no expert, he sees a subtle improvement over the next few weeks that makes some pride swell within himself.

-

“Do you want to come with me and my friends to this cool bar for dinner on Friday?” Gilbert asks about a month into the semester.

It’s the first time Gilbert and him will have spent time off campus.

“Yeah, I’d love to.”

-

Gilbert’s friends are just as animated as he, it’s almost hard to keep up. Overwhelming as they are, they’re extremely welcoming. Matthew eases into the atmosphere, joining in when he can but mostly pleased to be out and doing something different.

He’s made friends during his time, but like him they’re a little more reserved and pick quieter places on the town.

It’s fun. And he wants to go out again.

Matthew invites Gilbert and his friends to watch his next hockey game.

After their shock in finding out he plays such a violent sport, they’re all agreeing and planning to find the best seats in the arena.

-

“Are you serious. Are you hiding muscles under that red sweater?”

Gilbert pokes at him, it tickles when he gets closer to his biceps, but he knows he’s only teasing.

“You think I’m playing but I’m serious! You should have been there, well you were there. On the stands, I mean. We all screamed after you sent that player flying against the wall.”

Gilbert recreates the motions, but only slams himself into the wall and whines after he bounces back. He then plays it off like it doesn’t hurt. Gilbert’s not a very good actor.

People tell him it’s so much different watching him on the ice, but it’s still him. He’s always wondered how much different, he feels like himself. He just knows he goes into the zone when he’s in his gear. He just wants to win. And he will.

“It’s like night day,” Gilbert continues. “You were ready to kill a man down there.”

“You’re not the first to say that. I guess maybe, I could be a little more out there in real life, huh?”

Gilbert stops walking.

“Nope.”

“Nope?”

“You’re perfectly fine the way you are. I like the way you are, so don’t go change. I don’t want to be at risk of dying during art class.”

And as silly as it sounds, he’s pleased. He likes Gilbert a whole lot, too. Just the way he is.

-

“Do you want to have dinner with me?” Matthew takes the initiative.

“Dinner?”

“Yeah, just you and me. I want to take you out.”

“Like you did to that guy on the court,” Gilbert laughs nervously.

“On a date. Gilbert, would you like go out with me?”

He says yes.

Later that evening when he’s heading home, Gilbert starts running through the courtyard cheering that “I have a date with the cutest guy I’ve ever met!”

Matthew’s window is open, he’s face is bright red and he slams head first into his pillow. He needs to plan the best first date ever.

-

Three months into dating, he’s finally heading home again for a school break. He wants to take Gilbert with him, who is waiting for the next major holiday to go back home. But isn’t it too soon? They haven’t been dating that long, after all.

But Gilbert surprises him, and jokingly says he wants to go with him because he’ll miss him too much while he’s gone. And then, Matthew asks if he seriously wants to go.

“I do.”

So they ride the 3 hours train down to Matthew’s childhood home. He’s a little bit nervous, because he’s had dates to school dances, and brought friends over, but this is entirely different. This is someone he wants to take a serious step with, even if the time hasn’t been that long. They’ll never get anywhere if they don’t, so they’ll both take the leap and pray it works out.

“Mom, dad, Alfred, this is Gilbert.”

It’s the most timid Matthew’s ever seen him.

“Nice to meet ya, I’m Matthew’s boyfriend.”

After he shakes all their hands, he takes his hand back to link pinkies with Matthew.

There’s not an once of regret in his mind as the long weekend passes.

-

Gilbert graduates the next year, and the year after it’s his turn. They’re going to move in with each other. Gilbert really has no irresistible urge to go back to his home town, satisfied with just visiting a few times a year. And Matthew thinks he would like to go back closer, just to figure out his next move. So, they go together.

It’s only a one bedroom, but is more than enough space for them both. Gilbert finds work as a docent while Matthew works for a second degree in education.

He still plays hockey for a local league, Gilbert becoming their number one fan. They find their own rhythm, a pace that works for them both, where they can settle down or speed up when they agree with each other. Dewey mornings, warm summers, chilly evenings they spend them altogether.

They decide move up North closer to Gilbert’s hometown. Matthew’s more nervous meeting his grandparents than he was introducing Gilbert to his own family, but Gilbert assures him again and again they’re just a stuffy old family who actually really care about each other a lot more than they let off.

Gilbert’s grandfather towers over him, despite being a hair above 6 feet. He’s silent, eyes boring into Matthew as he introduces himself. And to end all of Matthew’s worries, the elder man pulls Matthew into a hug and tells him he’s glad him and Gilbert are home. Gilbert, just as perplexed as he, stares, but he melts into a pleased laugh.

Yeah, this is his and Gilbert’s home now.

-

They stay, for a long while, contemplate moving a few times, but they’re satisfied for now.

Gilbert and him always make time for each other, continue their own respective interests with complete support of the other. They’re never afraid to complain, because they always work through it rather then let it simmer.

Gilbert’s vivacious spirit keep them going, and Matthew’s heart keeps them grounded.

His life at first seem a little bit ordinary, but how can he complain when the pieces of the puzzle fit themselves in and stayed locked in tight.

[stevenbasic]

<buzz buzz buzz>

shhhh.

<buzz buzz buzz>

ugh.

<buzz buzz buzz>

That’s...that’s someone texting me.

I was woken by the sound of my phone, the first beams of sun sneaking in through the cheap plastic blinds of my apartment’s small, single window. I was disoriented - what time was it? How long had I been sleeping? I thought I was in my office, on that cot? Anyway, someone was texting me, and…

<buzz buzz buzz>

There it was again, a fourth alert, from a number I didn’t recognize. And it was morning, not quite quarter-to-seven. Swiping into my texts, I immediately saw the photo…

Two of my receptionists, Brittni and Bobbi, Young girls, friends, inseparable. They were here for, uh, jesus-

"were here to pick u up n get u to the hospitall for your rounds"

Oh shit. It's Thursday morning.

Was it Thursday already?!? I was due into the hospital in - oh christ - twenty minutes!

And my - ugh ugh ugh - my car was gone! The facts, the events of the past two days began to settle back into me. It had been taken away by Sheryl, my wife. My wife had taken away my car. In my distress I had torn through the office yesterday morning more or less naked, lap-swaddled by Melissa, lifted, carried and then holy shit basically hand-raped and boob-smothered by the new Eastern European APRN, Morgan. This was all on Wednesday morning. And it was somehow Thursday already?!? How had I slept so long?!? And - who moved me from the cot in my office to here???

Anyway - I didn’t have time to think. I sprang out of bed. I needed to get ready, fast! The ignominy of needing a ride to the hospital this early AM from two of my youngest employees - something arranged, no doubt, by Melissa - was a fact I was going to have to ignore. Shirt, pants - too big. Belt - yikes. Shoes - I’m swimming in them. Was I actually 5’3”?!? Like Morgan measured yesterday? How could this be happening??? No time to be anxious, I’ll figure this out later, I decided, slamming the door to my apartment behind m-

What the hell?

The hallway was sealed off, plywood blocking the way that would have led to the stairs down to the atrium. The construction! Yes! Melissa had said they were working to tear down most of the second floor and - jesus - there were the new, small stairs, spiral, that would lead me down…

In the near-dark of the early morning I made it down, through Melissa’s silent office, and - the front entrance, also sealed - out through a side door. I was confused, disoriented. Holy shit what was happening to this place?! My practice?!

Hurriedly making my way out, finally, to the front parking lot, I found the two girls in Brittni’s white minivan, pulled up to the curb.

“hiiiiiiii….!” they sang in unison, turned from their front seats to watch me enter as I slid open the passenger’s side back door and hopped in. Their smiles were huge, delighted, and it smelled nice in the car.

“Good morning,” I answered, struggling to slam shut the door behind me, “thanks for doing this…”

“Seat belt…?” Bobbi suggested, brows raised expectantly.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” I agreed, clicking myself in, looking around the cabin a bit as we began to pull away  “Nice…van.”

“It’s my family’s?” Brittni answered, turning out of the lot onto the main drag. I felt a quick, small pang of nausea hit me, like car sickness.

I shook it off.

Excited, the girls talked non-stop as we drove, Brittni with her eyes on the road or watching me in the rearview, Bobbi turned in her seat the whole time to face me. Both girls were dressed in jeans and black tops, showing - yikes - more cleavage than I’d seen in either one of them before. I did my best not to look down at Bobbi’s inviting chest, or steal glances at Brittni’s curvy profile. They were young - what? Nineteen, twenty, twenty-one? - but double yikes. Had they always been built like this??

It was thankfully a short drive to the small community hospital where I saw my patients, maybe about ten minutes. But throughout the whole thing they were giddy, giggly, obviously tickled pink by their assignment of chauffeuring me to work and amused that it was just after sunrise and they were driving their boss around since his wife had taken away his car. Their eyes glittered merrily, their smiles wide and white.

For myself I did my best to sit straight, look confident, speak clearly. My rumpled, oversized clothes and messy hair might not have helped matters; I’d gotten myself dressed and ready in all of three minutes and it showed. But, I hoped I could keep up at least some airs of professionalism in this otherwise totally demeaning situation. I needed to remain an authority figure, as best I could, to my young employees. I’d thought I was doing okay, keeping up with the light conversation which was - at the very least - thankfully distracting me from thoughts of yesterday, or how I was going to return to work at the office without melting from the humiliation. Two of my new employees - Shanette and then Morgan - had had their ways with me in less than the span of twenty-four hours. And that was notwithstanding the fact that I’d spent time cradled in my office manager’s lap. Oh my god what was happening??

In a brief moment of quiet, as Bobbi and Brittni tittered between themselves over something, I took the chance to gaze out the window. I thought about the office, remembering the hallways, the breakroom, Melissa’s couch. Aside from the humiliation I was beginning, for some reason, to feel a little...homesick? Thinking I shouldn’t be leaving, driving further away. It made me feel funny, like I was doing something wrong. Another brief wave of nausea hit me; I took a deep breath and stopped looking out the window. Settle down, I told myself, but couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. A deep breath - smelling of the girls, that new perfume - helped.

Before I knew it, though, we were pulled up to the front entrance of the hospital and Bobbi and Brittni were waving me goodbye, each smiling out the passenger’s side window as I gathered myself and stepped onto the sidewalk.

“Byeeeeee…!” they both sang, giggling as I hurried away. Thankfully I’d remembered my briefcase. “We’ll pick you up here at eleven..!” I heard Bobbi call after me.

Inside the front entrance, I stopped. I heard the sliding doors close off behind me, and I took another deep breath. There was that nausea again. Get it together, J.

Rounds. My Thursday mornings had, for years, consisted of me visiting my patients in their rooms: the diabetics, the stroke victims, the heart failures. Those that had been brought in as emergencies or ones that I’d admitted myself over the past weeks. Part of me always enjoyed rounds, seeing my patients in a different environment than the office, helping coordinate their care. I also liked the staff at the hospital, and had grown friendly with many of the nurses, receptionists and other physicians.

But, right off the bat, my visit this week went weirdly. Aside from the now-frequent waves of nausea, I was acutely aware of the stares. If I’d had hopes that no one would notice that I looked small, pale and weak, that my clothes didn't fit, that I was basically a shrunken mess - well, I was sadly mistaken. Not that much was mentioned, at first, but I’m sure they all saw how I was making mistakes, unable to concentrate, dropping things and stumbling over my words. It took one of my patients, though, about halfway through the morning as I visited him in his hospital bed, to speak the unspoken; “Where’s my real doctor?!” the old man croaked out, “This guy’s just a kid!!”

The two nurses in the room - each taller than me but somehow holding their tongues - turned to me. I began to stammer something, began to try to explain, but was immediately clenched with another grip of nausea, the worst yet. “Excuse me…” I asked, and rushed from the room.

I made it as far as the floor’s breakroom before I had to vomit in a sink.

===========================

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[felidaefighter]

Our Metaphorical Get-Along Sweater

In which Wilbur thinks of Ranboo as an arch-nemesis while Ranboo is just There Vibing and also, Phil has adopted Ranboo, making for two very different siblings and a very interesting relationship

[Fluff, comedy, work in progress; every chapter will swap POV]

Chapter One: Brother To A Stranger

     Phil is usually a fairly reclusive person, and yet Wilbur finds himself parting from the fifth hug just this morning. “I’m just… so happy you’re home,” Phil says with a warm and loving smile, and Wilbur knows it to mean I’m so happy you’re alive again. “I’m glad to be home,” Wilbur affirms, and then adds, softly, “I missed you.” Phil immediately responds in kind. Wilbur may be an adult, but after thirteen years in hell and darkness, he thinks he’s earned a little bit of that “living at home with your dad” sort of life. He had showered the night before, for a very very long time, enjoying the feeling of rain that didn’t burn-- as much as that memory was more of Ghostbur’s than his. Phil hadn’t minded, though, so it was fine. He had changed his bandage and washed his clothes, and woke up just a little before the sunrise, sitting on the balcony to watch it. He and Phil had then shared a quiet morning. It was nice. Peaceful.

     “Ah, here comes Ranboo!” Phil said, as a passing glance out the window alerted him to the hybrid’s presence, and Wilbur groaned internally and really hoped he didn’t make a face. Ranboo was okay, Wilbur supposed. He was fine. He just also happened to oppose everything Wilbur stood for and everything Wilbur believed, and his adopted little brother and said brother’s best friend seemed to think he hung the stars in the sky, for some reason, and liked him better than they liked Wilbur. Which, fair. Wilbur hadn’t exactly made himself the nicest person before his death-- and he supposed during, for a time. So that at least was understandable. Ranboo was fine as a person, really. Wilbur just didn’t like him all that much.

     Ranboo knocked on the door and, of course, just like that Phil let him in. “Oh, hey Wilbur.” Ranboo said, apparently a little surprised. Again. Understandable. He’d only been there a day. “Hello, Ranboo,” Wilbur replied, voice even because he was being polite, he really was trying he swore, he wouldn’t let Phil be disappointed and he wanted to give Ranboo a chance-- or at least try to. “It’s good you’re both here, actually,” Phil said, with a look of sudden remembrance, “I wanted to introduce you.” Wilbur shot Phil a very confused look. Wasn’t it clear that they’d already met based on the way they greeted one another? “We’ve met,” Wilbur told Phil, and thankfully for now confusion overrode every other feeling he might have.

     Phil sighed and Wilbur’s confusion grew even more as Ranboo, apparently, knew more of what was going on than Wilbur did as the hybrid’s eyes revealed a look of sudden understanding. “Yes, but you’ve not been introduced properly.” Phil actually walked over to Ranboo’s side. Phil put a hand on Ranboo’s shoulder and Ranboo stared nervously at the floor. “Ahh how do I say this, how do I say this,” Phil muttered under his breath, and Wilbur was too incredulous to be impatient. “Right. Wil, a lot has happened since you were away and, well. This is Ranboo, my adopted son. That makes him your younger brother. Ranboo, this is Wilbur, your older brother. I really really hope you two are gonna get along,” Phil said, blunt-forcing the news with a nervous little cackle at the end. Wait. What.

     “What?” Wilbur asked aloud, bewildered, because there was no way he had heard that right. There was no way that even Phil had fallen for whatever sort of bewitchment Ranboo seemed to be capable of. But Phil was making that awkward grinning face that Wilbur knew meant he was being presented with the harsh truth, and Ranboo coughed awkwardly. “Yeah uh. Phil… adopted me a little after I moved in here. Don’t worry, it-- it doesn’t really change the living situation or anything, I still have my own house--” he gestured, the house very much inside the fence border of Phil and Technoblade-- “So I think it’ll be fine. Right, Phil?” He finished, glancing at Phil, who had started sorting his chests.

     Phil sighed again, settling himself. “Yes,” he agreed, “It’ll be fiiine. Ranboo’s hardly ever here anyway, usually out with Tubbo or gone mining,” Phil said, attempting reassurance. Wilbur took a moment to compose himself, shoving all of his current feelings into an overstuffed closet like a kid trying to hide a mess from their parent. Which worked well as a metaphor, considering the situation at hand. “Yeah,” Wilbur said carefully, “It should be just fine. I suppose you’re both right, between having a different house--” that was literally right next to theirs-- “And being gone a fair amount of time, I don’t think that’ll change anything up too much.” It absolutely, completely would. “Thank you for letting me know, Phil. Honestly I can think of at least ten different ways I could’ve found out and all of them are worse, so.” That part was true at least. All things considered, this was the best way to find out. But why did it have to have happened in the first place?!?

     “Mhm. Exactly, exactly,” Ranboo agreed, and at least Wilbur could take solace in the fact that he felt just as awkward about this whole situation as Wilbur and apparently Phil too did. Wilbur was always grateful for his father, but never-- and he did think he meant never-- had he been as grateful as he was now, as Phil broke the silence. “So, Ranboo, was there a reason you stopped by?” Ranboo lit up. “Oh right! Yeah, I was wondering if you had any golden carrots I could borrow? The farmers give you and Techno better deals-- I can repay you the emeralds as soon as I get back, too, since I have plenty.” Phil chuckled fondly as he opened a cabinet and handed some of the golden carrots to Ranboo. “Nah mate, there’s no need to do that. It’s fine, we have plenty.” Ranboo took the carrots with a soft thank you.

     Wilbur leaned back against the wall, content to listen and not participate for the moment, eyes narrowed and trying to gauge the situation and their interactions. Ranboo was nothing like him-- the polar opposite of him-- and yet, it was undeniable that these were the interactions of a father and son. “Sooo, adventuring or mining this time? I doubt you’re low on anything.” Ranboo perked up, clearly excited about whatever upcoming deeds he had planned. “Adventuring! I’ll probably be away for about a week, actually. I really really want to find an enchanted golden apple. I know I teeeechnically already have one, but it’s good to be prepared-- besides, I don’t think Tubbo has one, and he probably needs it more than I do.” Ranboo grimaced. “He’s a lot more accident-prone than I am.” Phil cackled. “That’s so true. Alright. Well, be safe, give the crows a holler if you need anything, good luck!”

     Phil patted Ranboo twice on the shoulder, and Ranboo headed out the door, calling “Bye Phil! Bye Wilbur!” as he left, Wilbur giving a short wave in return. The door closed. Theoretically, the morning could go back to being peaceful and nice. Only theoretically. Wilbur turned to Phil, baffled and, quite frankly, feeling like a whiny child. “You what?” He repeated, satisfied that Ranboo was out of earshot and maybe now he and Phil could properly talk about it. Phil just waved his hand dismissively. “Aghk, it’s fine. He was in a bad place, Wil, I took him in ‘cuz he had nowhere to go.” Phil smirked, allowing himself a brief cackle. “And not just because we blew the place where his old house was up. Anyway! I started looking after him a bit, we had a chat, and I officially adopted him. It’s fine, Wil, he’s way younger than you and I doubt you two are even gonna wind up interacting that much. Your first day here and he’s already gone for a week! You’ll be fine.” Wilbur wanted to huff and grumble and pout, but Phil, as always, was right.

     “But--” Wilbur started anyways, and was met with “No buts!” and a shoosh from Phil. Phil sighed, and came up to Wilbur, gently squeezing his shoulder. He spoke more softly this time. “It’ll be okay, Wil. I love you, nothing changes that. No matter what, you’re always my son. I’ve told you that.” Wilbur hated to admit it, but this soothed him deeply, and he relaxed into his father’s care. “Alright, Phil. I trust you. If you really think this… this Ranboo guy is alright, I’ll give him a chance. I mean, I promised Tommy I’d give him a chance, ‘cuz apparently he and Tubbo think he hung the stars in the sky or something--” Wilbur caught himself starting at bitterness, corrected his tone-- “But I meant it then and I mean it now. For you, Phil.” And how could he be upset with Phil, when that promise brought a warm smile to his face? “Thank you, Wilbur. That’s all I can ask.” Wilbur sighed, world-weary. It was going to be a long rest of forever.

-----

     Phil had gone downstairs to fix up the massive arena that he and Technoblade used for sparring. Wilbur would likely go help him later, if Phil wanted help, but for now he was glad for the solitude; something he was almost certain that he and his father had in common. Solitude wasn’t great, after far too many years sat in it, but because of that it was what he was used to-- anything more would likely be too overwhelming. Just the knowledge that he had a choice, though, and could wander or feel different temperatures or go to Phil, who would always always be there, was enough to ease his mind. And he needed both-- the solitude and peace of mind-- to try and figure out what in the world just happened.

     Wilbur supposed it made sense, in a way. He had been gone a very long time, after all, and Phil always had a bit of a soft spot that he had to find some outlet for, much in the same way that most normal people had to find an outlet for all their violent spots. What he couldn’t wrap his head around, was why Ranboo? Wilbur toyed with a yo-yo he had snagged from Phil (more accurately, that Phil just had lying around), grateful for the endless stimuli this wonderful world had to offer. There was clearly more to the story than what was immediately available, and it irritated Wilbur that he didn’t know. God knows he’d never be able to get a straight answer out of Tommy. Phil’s explanation would be brutally short and lacking any sort of detail-- Wilbur had always been the better storyteller of the family. His best bet was probably Ranboo himself, and that guy had memory problems! Wilbur figured he’d wind up needing to piece most of the story together himself, but that was fine. He wouldn’t mind a puzzle.

     Still, thinking it over with the few details he had been given, about Ranboo himself at least, Wilbur couldn’t really conceptualize it. And he definitely wasn’t any sort of jealous. Phil had never exactly been the mercy type, so he definitely wouldn’t have taken Ranboo in out of pity or guilt. The more he thought about it, the more baffled he was, and the more he concluded that maybe Ranboo did have some sort of supernatural bewitching powers. If his hybrid nature let him do enderman things, there had to be a possibility that his other half let him do bewitching things, right? Wilbur found himself tangled in his thoughts and, somehow, his yo-yo. With pleading, befuddled eyes, Wilbur looked directly at a crow on the windowsill, holding back soft, confused laughter. “Phil, I appear to have gotten myself tangled in a yo-yo. ...Help.” The crow, very helpfully, swooped down into the basement to inform Phil.

     Upon entering, Phil burst into laughter immediately, a sound that Wilbur had dearly missed but oh my god now was not the time. “Aw, mate, how did you even manage this?” Phil said, attempting to untangle Wilbur but having to pull away every few seconds for another bout of full-body laughter. “I Don’t Know,” Wilbur admitted, as Phil continued losing it, “I guess it’s just been a really long time since I played with a yo-yo, Phil.” Phil turned Wilbur this way and that, trying to figure out how it all looped together, muttering to himself breathlessly between laughs as he did so. “Oh you got the-- how did you manage to-- under your--?” A hoard of raucous crows joined them in the chaos. “--Ahhh, Wil!” Phil exclaimed, throwing his hands up in defeat and stepping back, letting out one big cackle; Wilbur chuckled a little too.

     Phil gave up and helped Wilbur shimmy out of his predicament instead, handing him the very sad, very knotted yo-yo for Wilbur to untangle on his own. “Try that first next time, but I’ll be up to help if you somehow manage even worse next time,” Phil said with a melodious, contented sigh, heading back down to the basement. “I will, I promise,” Wilbur said, soft smile on his face. Well, that was unintentional. But it had been nice, actually. More than anything, Phil deserved to be happy. Even if that meant having two sons, one of whom was the biggest, wimpiest pushover and yes-man Wilbur had ever seen. Wilbur groaned out loud. Seriously, Ranboo? Maybe age had finally made Phil senile. Wilbur and Ranboo couldn’t be more different-- how had they managed to both get the same dad? So maybe he was a little jealous. Whatever. Well, Wilbur thought with a decisive sniff, he’d still been there first, and he was older. He was definitely going to use that at every opportunity.

     Even knowing he had a few days to think about it, Wilbur realized pretty quickly that as far as a final conclusion went, that was about as far as he was going to get on any given day . No sense mulling it over until his head looked like the yo-yo string; he’d be fine, and it wouldn’t change things too much between him and Phil-- that at least had always been a given. He and Ranboo, though? Wilbur hadn’t thought his feelings on the hybrid could be any more conflicted than they already were, but apparently he now had a second sibling to deal with, and he hadn’t even chosen this one. It was going to be… strange. Very, very strange. But hey! Such is life! Full of surprises! Wilbur sat on the porch rail, watching all the uniquely patterned snowflakes, and slowly untangled his yo-yo string.

[pascalpanic]

Blood, Sweat, and Tears (Javier Peña x f!Reader)- Chapter Five

Summary: It’s girls night at the Murphys’, Connie declares, since you, Lorena, and Connie all have this Friday night off. After meeting Steve, reader also discovers that she’s standing right above Javier’s apartment. 

W/C: 2.8k

Warnings: language and innuendo, brief mentions of sexual stuff but like, it’s brief

A/N: Well, this chapter is super cute and I really love it! Hope you guys like it like I do! Thanks to @remmysbounty​ for being my proofreader and giving me ideas, specifically for this night! This chapter is so cute you guys I love it! (this is the last fluff you’re going to get in this series for a while so... enjoy it now) this fic also really encouraged to me with my anxiety over wearing a scrunchie in public (I know I’m super lame), so thanks to @remmysbounty, @lunasblipsandblurbs and @mandoalorian for being my encouraging team and telling me that scrunchies are definitely still cool!!

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The bottle of wine on your counter looks more and more enticing as it grows closer to 6:30. You, Connie, and Lorena all had the luck of having this Friday off, and Connie had decided that a celebration was in order, inviting the two of you to her apartment. You’re excited: it’s a night with two of your favorite people in all of Colombia, and you finally get to meet Steve, who you’ve heard plenty about from both Javier and Connie.

As the hour draws closer, you decide to head over a little early. You and Connie had compared addresses and found that the two of you lived fairly close to each other, and you set out on your walk. 

When you reach the building, you walk inside and knock on the door with the number Connie told you. The door opens and reveals a tall man with blonde hair and blue eyes- you think he could be Connie’s brother, you almost chuckle to yourself. “Hey,” the man says, a light southern drawl evident in his tone. “Connie, one of ‘em’s here,” he calls out into the apartment before letting you come in. “I’m Steve, nice to meet ya,” he says with a smile.

You introduce yourself and he nods, noting that the name is familiar. Connie rushes out, excitedly smiling as she sees you. “Hey!” she practically squeals, rushing to hug you before taking the bottle of wine you hold and setting it on the counter. “Well, you’ve met Steve now,” she chuckles, nodding at him, and he nods back. “He’s just going to be hanging around tonight.”

“Might get a beer with Javier,” he tells her, and she shrugs.

“Might as well. Just stay out of our way,” she threatens, a sweet smile on her face opposing her tone, but she laughs quickly. It’s simply the way the two of them interact, you can tell, and it’s kind of cute. 

“Do you mind if I use your bathroom quick?” You ask, and Connie nods.

“Oh, of course. It’s just down there and to the left,” she tells you, and you follow her directions.

As you sit on the toilet, you can hear them talking. You ignore it until you hear Javier’s name mentioned again, catching your attention.

Connie’s voice is muffled but clearly giddy. “That’s the one, Javier’s girl,” she tells him, and you can hear Steve give a little chuckle.

“She’s cute.” “She’s not just cute, she’s gorgeous,” Connie laments. “Has Javi talked about her?” “Nope.”

“You’re probably just too thick to even notice if he did anyway.” “Hey! And no, he hasn’t mentioned anything about her. I already mock him enough for his tastes. He likes her though, that much is clear. And he hasn’t even slept with her yet- impressive for him. That must take some self control for Jav.”

That makes you warm a little on the inside. He’s into you. You feel like a teenager, and you cover your mouth with your hand as you give out a little giggle. 

There’s a knock at the door moments later, and you can hear Lorena’s voice ringing through the apartment. You finish up in the bathroom and grin at the sight you return to: Connie and Lorena, in casual clothing, holding glasses of wine with a third one at the counter for you. The three of you chatter for a little, slowing it down for Lorena. She’s not a fantastic English speaker, but she’s fluent enough, and Connie isn’t great at Spanish.

A few minutes later, Steve grabs a six-pack of beers from the fridge and heads towards the door. “Heading to Javi’s,” he tells Connie, kissing her head as he passes your little group.

He opens the door, and you find it strange that the beer is all that he’s carrying. “No coat?” You ask, tilting your head a little.

“We should get you in the DEA. We need observant people. Everyone around there walks with their heads up their asses,” he chuckles and opens the door. “No,” he says and looks at Connie, as if asking why you don’t know. She shrugs and he shrugs back. “Javi lives just downstairs, apartment beneath us. Holler if you need anything,” he tells Connie and closes the door behind him. 

“Javier lives downstairs?” you ask, eyes widening and heart fluttering at the idea that you’re in such close proximity to him. “Steve is DEA?” Lorena asks, big eyes widening like yours did. 

Connie is suddenly feeling bombarded, her pale face flushing with a little red. “Uh, yeah. To both. You really didn’t know that, Lori?”

“You said he was a janitor!”

“Lori, they don’t send people from the U.S. down to Colombia just to be a janitor,” you tell her with a gentle chuckle. Lorena is innocent and naive, you and Connie both know that, but you’d figured growing up in Colombia during Escobar’s reign of terror would’ve made her at least somewhat more knowledgeable. “I just believed what you told me,” she murmurs and sips her glass of wine.

-

Javier cracks a beer open and immediately takes a swig. “Connie’s never been one for girls nights, has she?” he asks Steve. He usually comes down here if there’s a fight between the two of them, or if Connie’s working the graveyard shift and he needs a drinking partner, but a girls night hasn’t been a reason yet.

Steve shakes his head and opens his beer too. “Nope, not really. She’s got two new best friends now, looks like. One of them is that American girl she works with,” he says and raises an eyebrow, raising his bottle to his lips to take a drink. He says your name, drawing it out and watching Javier’s expression.

Javi sighs, though the thought of you being in the room above him is exciting. “We’ve been over this, Stephen. You can’t mess with me the way you think you can.”

“Yes I can, Jav,” he chuckles and kicks back on Javier’s couch, turning on the television. Javier sits down next to him with a bowl of popcorn, sighing and shaking his head. As the football match plays out in front of them, Javier’s mind keeps drifting to the apartment above him. He wonders what you’re wearing: he’s only ever seen you, but he’s thought about how you’d look in a nice dress, in jeans, in nothing at all and splayed out in his bed- stop, Javier, he has to remind himself. Focus on the football game, and pray that Steve needs something from upstairs.

-

As Connie gets up to get another bottle of wine, she picks up a bottle of whiskey sitting on the counter. “Damn. Steve was gonna give this to Javier tonight,” she says with a frown. It immediately forms a smile as she turns to you. “Why don’t you bring it down there for them?” She asks you, grinning ear to ear.

“Yes, I think they need it,” Lorena chimes in, nudging your shoulder with hers. 

You shake your head at her proposition, laughing. “Why don’t you bring it down there yourself?” you ask her as you finish your glass of wine, setting it down on the counter and giving her a pointed look.

Connie holds the whiskey out in front of you with a pout, blue eyes wide. “Come on! Don’t you want to see him?” She asks with a giggle, grinning ear to ear. “It’s easy. Tell them I’m making them- ooh, should I make cookies? Then we can get Javier to come up here and get them once they’re done and you can see him, Lori, he’s really cute.”

“I want in on the cookies!” You exclaim, mockingly offended.

“No cookies if you don’t go bring this to Javi,” Connie practically sings and wiggles the bottle in front of your face. “Come on. Just tell him I’ll call down there when they’re ready and he can come get him,” she asks.

You sigh and take the bottle from her. “What, are we 13? Do you want him to admit he has a crush on me?” You ask dryly, standing. “Maybe we can hold hands in the stairwell between classes,” you roll your eyes, though you’re smiling.

The two girls cheer after you as you walk out of the apartment, closing the door behind you and hearing Connie and Lorena giggling, even from the hallway. You walk down to the apartment directly below Steve and Connie’s, taking a deep breath before knocking twice.

The door opens to reveal Javier, wearing a casual button-up shirt and jeans. He looks a bit surprised to see you, but he smiles as he recognizes that it’s you. “Hey,” he chuckles, a hand on his belt loop, the other leaning in the doorway.

“Hi,” you says with a growing smile that matches his. 

“I, uh. I like the scrunchie,” he says, gesturing to the cloth that’s holding part of your hair out of your face.

“Thanks,” you say, laughing a little at his compliment. “I like the apartment,” you say, gesturing behind him.

“Thanks,” he says too, looking down at the whiskey in your hands. “Do you want to come in?” He offers, moving in the doorway so that it’s accessible to you.

“Oh, no,” you shake your head and hold out the bottle. “Connie said Steve forgot this, so she sent me down to give it to you. Oh, and she’s making cookies. She said you’ll have to come up and get them when they’re done.”

Steve gets up from the couch, noticing that you’re there. “Damn, that’s right,” he chuckles and takes the bottle from you. “Forgot about that. Thanks for bringing that down. Connie’s a great baker, and I guess she knows about Javier’s sweet tooth,” he says.

You raise an eyebrow at Javier, asking if it’s true. He makes a little dismissive face and shakes his head softly, making you giggle. “Well, I’m gonna head back up. Connie said she’ll call down here when the cookies are ready.” “Thanks for bringing that down,” Steve tells you with a nod, heading into Javier’s kitchen to grab glasses for the liquor.

“Of course. I’ll see you later,” you tell Javier with a smile, and he smiles back and gives you a nod. 

You turn away and walk back down the hallway. You don’t turn, but if you did, you’d catch Javier watching you with a dopey smile on his face. His eyes are trained on your ass, how good it looks in those tight jeans you’re wearing.

-

About an hour later, after munching on the leftover cookie dough and about two bottles of wine in, the timer dings on Connie’s oven. She hops up from her spot and heads to the oven, grabbing the treats. You and Lorena both sigh at how good the smell of the freshly-baked dessert is, and Connie comes back with wine bottle number three. “You two open that. I’m going to call down to Javi’s,” she tells you and wiggles her eyebrows, making you roll your eyes at her as you uncork the bottle and pour more for all three of you.

Lorena immediately takes a swig from her newly filled glass, getting up from her spot and stealing a cookie from the tray on the oven. She hums happily as she eats it, walking back to her spot. 

Connie chatters on the phone, her tone indicating that she’s clearly talking to Steve. “No, send Javi up,” she whispers, thinking you can’t hear it. You can.

Once she hangs up, she scoops some cookies onto the plates and you and Lorena chat mindlessly, both sipping at your wine glasses. Connie unlocks the front door before returning to the counter and sitting down with the two of you. You continue your conversation from before, taking a bite of a cookie and immediately feeling transported home. Your eyes close as you savor the taste, but they open a moment later as there’s a knock at the door. “It’s open,” Connie calls out, and Javier walks in.

You notice that his jeans are tight, very tight, and bite down on your lip at the image your mind conjures. You give a little wave and he chuckles. “So this is Lorena,” he says as he gestures to the girl sitting between the two of you. She nods, grinning at him, and he walks closer, offering her a hand to shake. “Wonderful to meet you. I’ve heard nothing but wonderful things about you,” he tells her with a charming smile.

Lorena giggles a little at that, sipping her wine. “Likewise,” she tells him and gestures to you with her head. “Mainly from her.” You roll your eyes but smile as you see the pleased expression on Javier’s face. “Oh, Javi,” Connie says, popping up quick. “I wanted Steve to take pictures for us earlier but I forgot. Will you take them for us?” She asks hopefully, a hand on his arm. He nods and she grins. “Great! I’ll be right back.” She rushes out of the room to grab the camera.

“So how’s it going down there?” You ask him and sip your wine. 

“Typical. Steve and I are drinking in silence and watching soccer,” he chuckles, taking a cookie from the plate and biting into it. “Damn, she really is a good baker,” he sighs as he eats the rest of it.

Connie returns a few moments later with her Polaroid. “Okay, get up ladies,” she chuckles and hands Javier the camera. “Take three, so we can each have one.”

“Yes ma’am,” Javier chuckles as the three of you get arranged, tiny, 4’11” Lorena in the middle, you and Connie on either side. You all grin at the camera and Javier takes three successive pictures, with breaks in between for the photos to pop out of the bottom. 

As they develop, Connie coos over the pictures even though just your silhouettes are visible at this point. “Oh, you two should get a picture together!” She exclaims with wide eyes as she looks up at you and Javier. Once again, a silent question and answer passes between you: you ask him with a lifted eyebrow, Javier shrugs as if to say ‘why not’ and gives you a smile. 

“Sure,” you nod, and Javier hands Connie the camera. 

“Okay, I’ll take one for each of you. The first one will be yours, Javi,” she tells him as she positions the two of you then backs up to a distance to take the picture.

You and Javier each have an arm around the other’s waist, and Connie positioned your hand on his chest. As she brings the camera to her eye, you get an idea and grin. Javier’s already smiling for the picture, and you bring your lips to his cheek, pressing a kiss there for the picture. He gives a little chuckle, and you can feel the way it vibrates in his chest with the palm pressed to his heart. “Aw,” Connie laughs as she takes the picture from the slot, and Javier presses a kiss to your head while neither of the women are looking, making your heart melt.

“My turn,” he murmurs to you, and while Connie prepares the camera, he kisses your cheek, wrinkled from the wide smile on your face. Both of the girls coo as Connie takes the picture, and you laugh a little at the way they react. 

When both pictures are done, you lightly pat Javier’s chest and break from his arms. You grab the plate of cookies and his Polaroid picture from the table, handing them both to him. “Why thank you,” he chuckles and pulls you into a side hug.

“Are you just being nice to me because the girls are watching?” You ask him teasingly, your arm going around him as well.

“Tonight you’ve given me whiskey and cookies. Of course I’ll be nice to you when you do that,” he teases right back, and you laugh, your head falling into his shoulder.

“Don’t eat them all on the way down,” Connie threatens him. “I do like you more than Steve sometimes, but he’d put me on the first flight back to Miami if he didn’t get any of those cookies,” she says and nods to the plate.

“I’ll try not to,” he says, nodding obediently. Javier squeezes your side gently before breaking away from her. “Nice to meet you, Lorena,” he says again and gives a little wave before heading out of the apartment. 

You smile to yourself as you pick up your two photos: one with you and your best friends, one with you and Javier. It really has been a perfect night, you think with a sigh, and munch on another cookie. Little do any of you know how wrong things are about to go.

-

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