#fucking JUBILANT being by myself. and i love being a living breathing 'fuck you' to the romantic system

[knifearo]

being aromantic is like. hey btw you're going to live a life that is the culmination of most of society's worst nightmares. sorry lol ✌️ but then you turn around and take a really good hard look at it and it turns out that living in that nightmare is fucking awesome and you get to wake up every day and take that fear that other people have and laugh and hold it close until it's a great joy for you instead. and being happy is a radical act that you define instead of someone else. and you're sexy as fuck that's just a fact of life i don't make the rules on that one

[thebadchoicemachine]

Petting Party (pt 1)

Rundown of dimensions AU: Quackity’s from 1920s dimension called Prowa, Schlatt and Charlie are his business partners *cough found family cough* and they run a casino/speakeasy. Sapnap is a knight from a fantasy dimension called Quarry. Karl is like Dr.Who. 

tw - Mentions of guns and alcohol (1920s mobster dimension)

 This is really just the fluffiest full I have ever written. 

•••

@thecatchat

•••

•••

Quackity walked through his rooms, digging around drawers for his keys. He squawked a little in frustration as he rummaged. He felt so paranoid, like he was already short on time even though he was about half an hour early and it’s not like Sapnap or Karl would mind waiting. He just wanted this to go perfectly. They’d had dates in his world before, they’d even had proper ones where they weren’t running from cops or mobsters or some other guns/knife/bat-wielding foes. Heh, foes. He was starting to think like Sapnap… and he was starting to feel like Karl— where was his damn key? Karl had literal worlds full of stuff to keep track of, it only made sense he got turned around and mixed up, what was Quackity’s excuse? 

Finally, a glint caught his eye and he snatched up the silver piece of metal, stuffing it into his sleeve and practically skipping to the front. Their home was really just the back half of the casino so he just walked through into the back room. Schlatt and Charlie were sitting at a table, various game pieces scattered across the top, counting cards, chips, and cash. Charlie seemed to be in the middle of a failed game of solitaire and was stacking up a house of cards while Schlatt was just old-fashioned sorting, looking rather bored. It was a quiet night for them. Probably a few drinks and catching up till bed after they double-check the games for cheating. Quackity would usually join them but it wasn’t strange for him not to show. He gave them a wave as he walked past, motion enough for them to look up and acknowledge him. 

Schlatt only glanced up before returning to his work. “What’s with the getup?” 

“I told youse, I’m going out tonight.” 

“Doesn’t answer my question.” 

“I’m going out to meet my partners.” Quackity struck a joking pose. “No harm in good impressions.” 

“Hey,” Charlie frowned childishly, “aren’t we your partners?” 

Quackity chuckled, rolling his eyes, “Of course. My new partners, then. Actually, lemme see a cut of that doe, I wanna butter ‘em up tonight.” He snatched a few bills from the table and turned to make his exit. 

“Wait,” Schlatt commanded, still barely looking up from his work. “Partners like you’re out for coffee to discuss getting new tables?” He took a sharp bite of his apple, eyes lazily growing dark. “Or do youse mean partners like I outta trail behind... y’know, keep you from gettin’ lead poisoning.” 

“Uh...” Quackity blinked. “Partners like I’m off to a petting party.”  

Schlatt choked. Charlie laughed while he coughed, moving to pat his back and smiled at Quackity. “Well, good luck.” 

Quackity narrowed his eyes as he was almost certain he caught a ‘all knows you need it’ under Charlie’s breath. He played it cool and simply snapped, “Hey, I don’t need no luck. Certainly not from you.” 

“Sorry, sorry, didn’t mean to offend.” Charlie held his hands up, grin still plastering his face. “Was just wishing you the best.” 

“Yeah... yeah,” Schlatt nodded, coming out of his state but still red-faced. Whether it was from embarrassment or lack of air Quackity couldn’t tell. He rolled his eyes again, smiling but waving goodbye without giving them a chance to drag him onto another conversation.

He stepped into the front, waiting patiently by the front of the door. Karl had said they’d meet him at the Vidrio, but should he wait inside or out? He paced, routinely adjusting his feathered headband and combing the actual feathers on his wings. He still worried he was overdressing a little but when he tried to lessen his look he panicked about underdressing. He wanted to look good for his boyfriends, a bit of makeup wouldn’t hurt that... would it? In the end, he’d settled on a simple pale blue dress, eyeliner, and a small headband. Nothing too gaudy but he still looked good. He looked good in everything, of course, he had absolutely nothing to worry about. So why was he all jittery? What, was he suddenly a dud? It didn’t matter. It was probably just because of the surprise factor. 

He’d assumed they would come and get outfits at his place (no offense to them, they just really couldn’t go the way they usually dressed) but Karl had insisted they pick him up like a “proper date.” He didn’t know what Karl knew about proper dates or when he’d started to care about them, most of their dates involved some form of running for their lives. Quackity wasn’t complaining but he’d be lying if he said the idea of just being a snuggle pup for a change wasn’t wildly appealing, especially if it meant getting to have Sapnap and Karl got to hang out in his world and not just flee and sneak. There were some nice things here he felt he never got to show them. 

He sunk into himself, suddenly feeling ashamed. It was bad manners, it was. Combining his work and love life to the point he may as well have made chumps out of his own boyfriends. He knew they didn’t mind, it was all new and fun for them and he was pretty sure Sapnap did the same thing. (He wasn’t entirely sure what his job was, like a knight sure but where was the line between work and just regular old Quarrian life?) Still. He should take them dancing more or something. Technically, that’s what he was doing here but he’d like to make a better habit of it, it really sounded like the bees- 

A bright, impossible, but familiar, swirl interrupted his thoughts. He straightened himself, quickly fixing his headband one last time. His heart was pounding out of his chest— but not because he was nervous, because he was excited. He couldn’t stop himself from smiling like a giddy sap as out from the portal stepped Karl and Sapnap. His breath was caught in his throat as he got a good look at them. He wasn’t sure what he expected, nothing bad, but he mentally made a note to give them an apology for being SO wrong. Whatever he’d imagined, they looked a million times better. 

Sapnap was in a white dress shirt. He had on a maroon vest and black tie he clearly didn’t know how to wear but wore well nonetheless. He had his hair slicked back, completely showing his pretty silvery, misty, eyes. Quackity noted the headband he usually wore in his hair was tied in a ribbon around his neck. Sapnap just couldn’t be without it, he warmly mused. 

Karl had on something with colors in patterns like Quackity had never seen before, not in his world at least, which— of course, it was Karl. Beautiful, strange, mysterious, adorable Karl. The top of the pantsuit was made of several pale shades of green. They washed over it like waves of seafoam, a strip of pale purple lace swirled around it, almost mimicking a deconstructed form of his usual crazy attire. A herringbone cap was pulled over his head, shaping brown curls. 

Quackity stared, absolutely gobsmacked, until his brain caught up to his eyes. Sapnap was saying something and waving his hand a little. Quackity blinked, shaking himself out of it. Egad, he was goofy for them. Luckily, Karl and Sapnap didn’t seem to mind his zoning out. In fact, Karl seemed to find it tickling, he clearly held in a giggle as Quackity snapped to. Quackity guessed this wasn’t the first time he’d found himself stunned. It certainly wouldn’t be the last either. 

“Hey, jackpot,” Sapnap gently flicked his forehead. “I asked how you think we look.”  

“You... good. You look good. Mmhmm,” he managed to squeak out, finally remembering to close his mouth. Slick. He was slick. 

“I’m glad you like it,” Karl chuckled. “I know you don’t really trust me to dress myself for nice places in Prowa.” 

“Hey, I never said I didn’t trust you!”

“You never said it, no.”

Quackity gave Karl a small punch in the shoulder. He flinched way more than was warranted, stumbling dramatically, but a broad smile settled on both their faces. 

“Aw, sugar! Did I hurt you?” 

“Yes!” 

“Hey, hey! Sir,” Sapnap stepped between them, also joking. “What is wrong with you, daring to assault my beloved in front of me?”  He threateningly toward over Quackity, grabbing his shoulders and backing him up against the wall. His eyes flickered with playful malice. He leaned in close, expression caught between a smirk and a snarl, completely aware of the growing blush on Quackity’s face. “I’ve half a mind to challenge you, and another half to crush you right here for your audacity.” 

“Aw, my knight in shining armor,” Karl sarcastically patted Sapnap’s shoulder, thoroughly less impressed by the display than Quackity. “Whatever would I do without you here to defend me from this sweet, cuddly, small, duckling?”

“Hey!” Quackity snapped defensively. “I could fuck you up if I-“ 

“Ey, Q! Have you seen-“ Schlatt stopped upon seeing the scene, turning on his heel and walking right back into the back. “Nevermind. Not my business. None of my business. Absolutely not my business…” 

“I-“ Sapnap dropped his boyfriend (who crumpled onto the floor in laughter), instantly turning a shade twelve times redder than Quackity had been. “I am so sorry.” 

“Ah- Schlatt?” Karl called over Quackity’s wheezing. “Schlatt, it’s fine-“

“NONE OF MY BUSINESS!” A shout came from the backroom. 

Quackity dropped his face into his hands, his chortling turned to full hysterics as he sat curled up against the wall. His dress, which he had been so unreasonable nervous about moments before, creased and probably picked up some grime from the floor. He didn’t care at all. Now that his boyfriends were actually beside him he could care less if he was painted green and orange. He had no one to impress, at least no one who would let anything bad happen over a stupid look. “Oh,” he snickered, the burst dying down. “Oh wow.” He wiped his eyes as jubilant tears stung, apathetic as he’d become he hoped his makeup didn’t run. It wasn’t necessary but he’d still like to look nice for the occasion. He pulled himself to his feet, brushing off his outfit and sighing. “Ah. He’s got a point though, really should be saving that for the party.”

“Speaking of which—“ Karl snapped his fingers in a jazzy rhythm. “Are we ready to go?” 

“Yes, let’s!” Sapnap turned with Karl as all three of them began to speed out the door.

Quackity made sure to bump in front of them before they made it out, he was not letting Karl anywhere near the wheel.  

The car ride was bright and lively although quiet. Quackity couldn’t help but grin just being next to these goons, one could practically feel Karl vibrating with excitement in the back, even Sapnap seemed to be enjoying the drive (he’d never quite gotten over the time Karl had offered to drive... Quackity could barely blame him for remaining he cautious and paranoid around automobiles). The blanched twilight hummed overhead as they made their way through the streets. It was relatively empty this time of night, too late for errands but just before everything started to swing. They pulled into the end of the road and all stepped out.

“It’s a bit of a walk the rest of the way,” Quackity explained. “Especially cause ‘s considered… ‘impolite’ to pull attention.” 

“Hmm…” Sapnap nodded, glancing behind them.

“What’s up?” Karl put a hand on his shoulder. 

“Nothing.” 

“You sure?” 

“It’s fine, I just-“ 

“Just what?” 

“Uh, maybewecouldgoseeSchlattandCharlie?”

“Huh?” Karl blinked. 

“Is… Schlatt and Charlie coming? Could we go get them?”

“N-no?” Quackity stammered, surprised to say the least. “This— uh- ain’t exactly the kind of party you bring your family to. Not ‘less they got dates of their own... and you know Charlie ain’t keen on that stuff.”

“Okay, well, maybe we could spend some time with them for a while at the casino? Before we commit here. The night is young!”

“I means, I’m pumped for your sudden urge to hang out with them and all, but I kind of wanted to spend time with the two of you.”

“Ah-“ Sapnap shrunk into himself. “Of course, I- me as well, I’m so sorry to imply otherwise. I was just thinking Charlie may like to hear about the slimes...” He trailed off, fiddling with the headband around his neck, just the slightest hint of panic on his face. He was very good at hiding it but Quackity and Karl knew him better than that. They shared a glance, this had nothing to do with Charlie. 

“Spice, are youse nervous?” 

“N-no!” 

“You sure? We don’t gots to do nothing you don’t wanna.” 

“Yeah, it’s just-“ 

“Chivalry and all that?” Karl chimed in, sympathetic. “I know our courting isn’t exactly conventional.” 

“No. Well, not exactly. Ah... think I’m merely... flustered?” 

“Flustered?” They spoke at once. 

He nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s just… romance in my world is so different. Much more complicated. It involves a lot of the other’s family and specific sets or roles for meetings, it changes depending on how long you’ve been together and what kingdoms you hail from, so such and so forth. I’ve never been a martinet for the rules but, the way you describe these kinds of parties, I- I- find myself… lost.” 

Karl blinked. “So, you’re used to having a bunch of guidelines and, while you don’t miss them, are floundering without the stencil?” Sapnap nodded at the ground. He took a breath and shook his head, clearing his mind before bowing slightly. He held his left arm over his chest, middle knuckle up with his pinky and thumb slightly out, keeping the rest of his hand balled in a fist. Quackity recognized the symbol by now as something like a salute of the Nether kingdom. It was used to show respect while speaking. He stopped himself from rolling his eyes, remembering the formality was only habit. 

“I apologize for my trepidation,” Sapnap held a bashful tone. “I am just not used to courti-“ he paused, searching for the word, “dates being so… open. I don’t mean that as an insult to your world! I only-.” 

“Okay, buddy,” Quackity pushed Sapnap upright by his shoulders. He seemed confused but obliged. “I get it’s polite and nice for you but, if you really love me, please never do this again.” 

“Do... what?” 

“You have a habit of getting all formal when you’re worried you’re messing up with us.” Karl shrugged. 

“I do?” 

“I don’t know.” Quackity tapped his chin. “Let’s see.” Without warning, he grabbed Sapnap by the shoulders and takes him downward, planting a firm kiss right on his lips. He tensed a little as he felt a sudden wave of hotness wash over him (that was to be expected from surprising a demon) but stayed in the moment. As he pulled away, Sapnap blinked a few times, stunned although the faintest hint of a smile shone through. His gelled hair fell just a little messy.

“What the fuck, Quackity?” 

“There we go! Back to normal! You see the difference?”

“I- I guess so!” He nodded, a look of mild surprise mixing his comprehension as if he’d just realized what color his own eyes were. 

“Now, did youse like that?”

“Yes?”

“You want more?” 

“Yes...”

“You wanna go inside?” 

“Yeah.” Sapnap energetically nodded, slamming the car door shut, slicking back his hair again, and holding out his arms. “Yes, I do.”

Karl jumped between them, linking arms on his side before Quackity had the chance, and holding out his own instead. Quackity shot him a look but took it, joined by Sapnap in confusion at the sudden demand to be in the middle. Karl only smiled as they made their way down the street, nearly skipping at the attention until he lowly murmured, “So… do I get a kiss?” Quackity opened his mouth, smiling, but was cut off by Sapnap swiftly swooping in and planting one on Karl’s cheek.

“Oh- you-!” Quackity squawked, envy and agitation peaking his tone. “I was gonna-!” 

“Well, I did.” 

“Boys, boys, I do have two hands… and two cheeks,” Karl half-sang, leaning over to Quackity awaiting his kiss. 

“Oh, no. Fuck you. You’re gonna have to wait for it now,” Quackity pouted. Sapnap let out a taunting laugh as Karl gasped in mock offense. Well, probably mock. Regardless, Quackity only smirked and turned to face a door in the wall next to them. “Besides, we’re here!” He unlinked his arm, rattling out a little pattern into the door. It opened slowly, revealing a dapperly dressed serpentine blocking the view inside. He smiled wildly as the warm smells and colors hit him regardless, it had been a while since he’d been to one of these, long before he ever met them and certainly not while they were dating, but he missed them. 

He couldn’t wait to share this.

[softlyjiminie]

oh kitten! | p.j.m

⇢ pairing(s): park jimin x cat hybrid!reader, mentions of panther hybrid!jeon jungkook x cat hybrid!reader.

⇢ word count: 2.4K

⇢ genre: smut, fluff, hybrid!au.

⇢ summary: no one expected park jimin to come home with a hybrid, let alone a female cat hybrid. innocent as can be, sweeter than sugar, she was the apple of jimin’s eye, but little did they know, how good she could be.

⇢ warning(s): please read! heavy smut, pwp, dom!jiimin, sub!reader, oral sex (female receiving.), fingering, male masturbation, light exhibitionism,  master kink, corruption kink, degredation kink, god kink if you squint,  mentions of pet play, light choking, spanking, cum play, breeding kink, unprotected sex - please wear protection!

⇢ author’s note(s): happy new year friends! it is i, your favourite jimin luvr back with a very special gift for miss @fantasybangtan​, gia hit me with this very wonderful and steamy gift, so in my new years haze I managed to throw this little steamy one-shot together! please enjoy this very smutty fic hehe.

no one expected park jimin to come home with a hybrid, let alone a female cat hybrid. jimin already had plenty of girls wrapped around his finger before her, so why did he need a hybrid? the short answer was that he was lonely, looking for someone to take care of and fill the empty space between work, college and parties. but jimin had seen the look of happiness on yoongi’s face that one time,upon seeing his girlfriend  bring in their excitable german shepard hybrid; taehyung  (of course with the permission of their boss seokjin, some establishments didn’t allow hybrids on the premises.)

namjoon, his old roommate had moved out after getting his own cat hybrid, jungkook. the panther hybrid had many lazy tendencies, sometimes aggressive and possessive which had ultimately led namjoon to leave. in other words, jungkook was lazy and mean as fuck. however, he did have his adorable moments. then there was, hoseok who frequently volunteered in a shelter for hybrids. it had been him, the jubilant man,  who helped jimin to find the right hybrid for his home, but the older male would have never suspected his blue haired ‘bad boy’ friend to go for the most innocent little short hair he’d ever seen. 

oh kitty, if hoseok knew how innocent and good she really was. 

YN’s back was arched, dark fluffy tail wrapped around her thigh as she held her ass up high for jimin to see. with dark eyes, jimin nudged her thighs apart with his own, just so he could get a view of her pretty, creamy little pussy. her ears were flat with submission too, making heat crawl down his spine. “look at you kitten,” jimin cooed lowly, crescent moon eyes heavy with seduction. “all spread out for me, like a good little girl.” 

he hummed in satisfaction, watching her tail twitch and ears flicker to place his movement. YN knew he was right behind her, her modified hybrid DNA meant her keen sense of smell could detect his growing arousal and the denim that prevented it from filling her up. she let out a quiet mix between a whimper and a purr, burying her face into the fresh cotton sheets as she wiggled her hips in an attempt to get jimin’s attention. 

hands on her waist stilled the motion, causing YN to glance back over her shoulder to gauge his reaction. jimin smirked, shuffling down the bed with her ass still firmly in grip. the tattooed man yanked at her hips with bruising force,  bringing her sopping heat closer to his face once his knees hit the floor. nose just inches away from her swollen nub, jimin’s  hot breath fanned over YN’s throbbing core and sent her senses into overdrive. “tell me kitten, what was it that you did so wrong? tell master so he can give you what you need baby.”

his voice dripped with mockery, testing all of her self control. jimin had her trained well, to be a good pet, not only when but if he desired it. he loved to see YN on her knees when he came home from a busy day, mouth open and ready to take his fingers spiralled with tattoos. he loved it. she adored it.

“i t-touched myself,” she mewled after jimin pressed his plush lips against her core in a sloppy kiss. he hummed, as if asking her to continue, causing her fingers to grip the sheets. “because the heat, m-my heat was too much!” 

the tattooed man licked a stripe along the length of her dripping cunt, the overflow of her arousal sweet on his tongue. jimin was addicted, senses overflowing with all of her. “what else sweetheart? elaborate for me.” 

“’called taehyungie ‘n hoseok t-to help with my heat-, oh my god!” she squealed when jimin’s skilled tongue slipped past her entrance, feasting on the heavenly nectar that gathered there. YN was sinful, without even trying, her innocence turning the man on beyond compare. corrupting her, tainting his little angel.  jimin moaned into her core, loving how she desperately cried out his name. letting a inked hand run through his teal tinted locks, jimin lifted himself off of his knees and begun to  sooth her whimpers, smoothing over the curve of her ass. “they said- oh my - they said no so i called kookoo to he-help! jimin!” 

the tattooed man growled into her cunt, possessively at the other hybrid’s name. memories only driving him to push his tongue into her pulsing hole, he smirked against her, drawing patterns on her desperate cunt as she cried out. before adopting YN, jimin knew next to nothing about owning and taking care of a hybrid, let alone about their reproductive cycles. so when his kitten fell into her first heat with him,  jimin panicked and immediately took to calling namjoon for advice. 

jimin remembered his face being bright with a red when his little, sweet, innocent kitty begged him to fill her up with his cum. because, sure, park jimin had been with girls before but this was YN and YN was his precious little baby. jimin had never seen her in such a state before, tears pooling in her beautiful, doe eyes like she was in pain. desperately needing something, someone to take the edge off.

namjoon offered up jungkook to help take care of jimin’s darling kitten and of course, he was sceptical. jungkook wasn’t gentle, he couldn’t take care of a little thing like YN. 

but oh how jimin was wrong. 

never in his life, in his time with YN had he heard her scream such filthy words, begging for jungkook to stuff her full of his load and breed her till his heart content. of course the panther obliged, groaning and barking orders into YN’s ear as their skin slapped against each other. 

and so it became a regular occurrence from then on, jimin making a home on the living room couch as jungkook took her round after round after round. YN’s moans  like a sweet melody filling the void of the apartment, causing jimin’s cock to harden in his sweatpants. he should have felt bad, bad for touching himself to orgasm whilst listening to YN being pounded away. it wasn’t until recently, when jimin had confessed his feelings (and jealousy), that he started helping her through the heats. making his name, jimin , the name that she chanted like a mantra.

“minnie, it hurts,” YN gasped, a slur in her words after he’d neglected her cunt for too long. with a teasing smile, jimin withdrew his face from her heat, replacing his tongue with a finger, slowly pumping it knuckle deep within her red hot walls. jimin grinned cockily in delight, feeling her walls take him in like a glove, pushing her (or rather his) sweater over her ass and up to her chest. 

kissing a trail up her back, jimin smiled against the expanse of her skin, reaching her neck and biting down just hard enough to form a love bite. he wanted YN’s skin to shine with his work, painting blue and purple hues across her skin like the night sky. “i know angel,” he murmured softly, millimetres away from her sensitive cat ears. “i’ll take care of you baby, i’ll fill you up so good, fuck you raw and then feed your tight little pussy my cum, would you like that kitten?” jimin’s voice was raspy in her ear, making YN’s chest heave at the thought of jimin inside her spasming walls. a fresh set of tears watered in the cat hybrid’s eyes as jimin’s finger curled, bringing her closer to the edge. stars formed behind cat-like irises as she teetered over the brink of orgasm, the knot in her stomach desperate to uncoil.

but just as quickly as it came, it stopped. “or would you rather kookoo?”

jimin’s whisper was hot against her kitty ears, causing them to twitch as she almost sobbed into the pillow with a shake of her head, moaning out for something, anything. “what about him, kitten? would you prefer if he fucked you like this? tossed you around and filled you up with his seed? hmm?“ jimin spoke harshly, landing a spank to YN’s ass. “i bet you would, all you can think about is being filled with cock and cum, bet you’d take anyone in that filthy cunt of yours.” 

“no, no, no!” YN cried, grinding her ass back into jimin’s jeans, leaving a wet patch at his crotch once she realised he had moved there. “i-i want you, i want you minnie please! don’t want him, don’t want koo, only you...”

the blue haired boy smirked lightly and sat back on his knees, slowly manoeuvring to unbuckle his belt. the clink of metal clanking on metal made the kitty moan in wonton as her ears swivelled at the sound. “say it again.” Jimin commanded, stripping off the rest of his clothes, the scent of his arousal filling his kitten’s nose. “beg for master, darling.”

“please, please i need you, m-master please- ” she didn’t need to say much before he was swiping the swollen, burning red head of his cock along her soaked slit. jimin shuddered above her, easing his thick cock between her folds as he encased the kitten between his arms. his bare chest moulded perfectly with the slope of her back, her ass resting comfortably at his hip. “hmmm minnie...”

in return, jimin gave an experimental thrust of his hips, whimpering into YN’s hair when she clenched around him. “fuck kitten, alway s’fuckin tight for me.” he moaned, thrusting in again, just to hear her little mewl’s of pleasure. the head of jimin’s cock caught on her wet walls, dragging against them as he repeatedly pushed in and out of her hole, abusing the sensitive area by rolling his hips into her constantly.

jimin lifted himself from her back, hands settling on her hips as he pulled her as back onto his cock, watching her cheeks jiggle with every movement. YN’s face was pressed deep into the pillows as she cried out his name, grinding back onto him like her life depended on it. “m-minnie please...” 

“please what kitten?” jimin panted, kissing up her spine again but never slowing the pace of his hips. “what is it that you want, hm? is my cock not enough for you?, greedy girl. want me to go faster? harder?” 

the blue haired male punctuated his words with swirls of his hips, his bright red tip prodding at her g-spot, eliciting a series of purrs from her kitten lips. he ravished the back of her neck once more, pausing his movements to let her roll back onto him feverishly, her cunt clenching right around him as her orgasm drew near. “h-h minnie, oh!” her purrs grew louder, moans reduced to mumbling his name and sighing once the weight of his body was on top of her again.

jimin’s thrusts became erratic, the force behind them more powerful. YN squeezed around his cock, purring for him and sending the vibrations going straight to his dick. “you gonna cum kitten?” he groaned into her hair, caging her in underneath him as he focused on thrusting deep. thick fingers fumbled to flick at her swollen clit with one hand, the other pressed lightly on her neck, forcing his thumb into her hot, wet mouth. “gonna make a mess of my cock?”

“yes! ’m so close,” she slurred, biting into the fabric of the pillow to control herself.

jimin nipped at her ear. “cum for me baby.” he growled, squeezing his eyes shut when she contracted around him one final time, arching her back to rut against him. jimin helped YN ride out her high as she milked his length for all he had, the tightness of her heat becoming too much for him. “where do you want me?”

“c-cum inside me, fill me with your kittens. breed me.” she purred, breathless as she swivelled her hips over his cock, the man above her practically sobbed as he gave a final two thrusts, filling his baby up with his thick hot seed.

jimin felt his arms give out as he collapsed to the side, not daring to crush his precious angel with his body wait. closing his whiskey eyes, jimin stilled to let his breathing calm, only cracking an eye open when YN moved over to give his inked arm appreciative kitten licks. “good? you’re okay, right princess?” he hummed in concern. 

“mhm! thank you jiminie, i think it’s settled for now. could i have some water please?” YN smiles shyly, the dimples in her cheeks returning. jimin chuckled, the switch of her personality reminding him of how innocent she could be and if he wasn’t so tired he knew his cock would have stirred again. with a shake of his blue hair out of his eyes, jimin nodded and sat up, leaning over to grab a bottle of water from the emergency supply under the bed. “thank you!” 

after the first few heats that he’d helped YN with, jimin quickly realised that both she and he would need replenishments if YN were to stay healthy and he were to keep up his stamina to satisfy her. it was a good thing that he could never get enough of her. the inked man watched with tired eyes as YN gulped down the water, trickles falling down the corner of her mouth and dripping onto her bare chest as she swallowed it down easily. 

wonder what else she could swallow like that, jimin thought. a small cough caused him to shift is gaze from his hybrid’s chest and up to her, innocent eyes. “you’re staring, minnie.” YN whined, with a pout on her lips. 

“you’re beautiful, is staring a crime?” he countered, moving to press a kiss where the water lay and followed to trail back up to the corner of her mouth. YN shifted on her knees, gasping quietly at the soft touch. jimin grinned widely against her supple cheek, biting it softly as he sensed another hot rush flooding through her. YN was so responsive to him, and only him. 

it was a privilege that he loved.

“no, but if i didn’t know any better, i would think you were the hybrid in heat...” she gasped, eyes rolling back as jimin moved his hands to cup her breasts. 

“whaddya say baby, another round?” 

“please, master.” she nodded, already moving to straddle jimin’s lap, ready for another round in the sheets. 

oh, what a good kitten she was. 

[taecalikook]

The Platinum Rules

summary : Being a true fuckboy he truly is, Taehyung only has three rules when dealing with his one night stands. One, never ever wine and dine someone before sleeping with them. Two, never ever stay the night after one night stands. Last one, is never, never ever meet a girl’s parents under any, any circumstance ever. These are his Platinum Rule, the one never break even once and it conveniently keeps him off the hook for anything. But what magic are you playing to have the fuckboy break all his rules for you in a span of only 24 hours?

{fake relationship! au, fuckboy! au, fratboy! au}

pairing : kim taehyung x reader 

word counter : 24.556

A.N = Read (Not) Just Friends here! Please be mindful this is in Lia’s perspective in (Not) Just Friends!

================================

“You did not just… You know what? Fuck you, Jeon Jungkook!”

Jungkook snickers, looking at the panicked face of his best friend, Taehyung when he sees he is not the only one in the table. Taehyung should have guessed, though. Since when did Jungkook ever ask for a dinner together other than McDonald and its peers? He thought Jungkook was being nice, wine and dining him for somehow ignoring their best friendship ever since getting himself a new girlfriend. Not that he is unhappy for Jungkook and he’d rather chop off his finger than to admit this, but he misses partying night in and out with him—he is just that whipped for his new girlfriend and decides to take himself off that routinity.

“I only say she is cute once. Once! And I don’t see any reason why you, your girlfriend and Y/N should be having dinner in this fancy ass place! This is a lowkey double date, do you know that?” Taehyung hisses in agitation.

“It doesn’t have to be! No one saying this is a double date beside you.” Jungkook amusedly chuckles, raising both his palm in defeat. “We are just going to have a nice dinner together, bro. As friends.”

Taehyung throws him an annoyed look. “You really going to fucking act like I don’t know you?! You are setting me up with this girl, I knew it! Jungkook, I told you, I am not interested in dating! I know it’s good for you, but I am not chaining myself to that time bomb, thanks.”

“Yeah, yeah whatever. But we are taking too much time in the toilet for two men and people there gonna think we are fucking. Let’s go.” Jungkook mindlessly put an arm on Taehyung’s shoulder, walking back to the desk in which his girlfriend and you are chatting lively. Taehyung takes a deep breath, then launches an elbow kick square to Jungkook’s rib that throws him to coughing fit to get his arms off him.

“I swear when we are done, I’ll punch you in your fucking annoying handsome face.”

Jungkook launches a flirty wink along with a chuckle. “I don’t mind you hitting on me, but my girlfriend is just right here.”

“Hey, you guys. What is taking so long in there?” Jungkook’s girlfriend cheerfully asks and both of the men shake their heads with an awkward smile. God, Taehyung really wants to snap to his own head right now, how he wishes to be anywhere but here. There is actually a party in the female frat he is greatly acquainted with. Should have just gone there to relieve some tense instead.

“They’re probably fucking.” You instinctively murmur, unknowingly too loud and audible to anywhere in the radius of a meter while calmly sipping on the glass of red wine. Your best friend slash roommate gasps, slapping your shoulder—somehow embarrassed.

“Y/N!”

Taehyung glances at the girl pouting in front of him, somehow finding her ironic jokes entertaining. Well, even though he is greatly opposed to the idea of a double date, but hanging out with this girl is probably not the worst idea. Probably beats hanging out alone with Jungkook while he is playing fucking Overwatch. 

Well, it goes back to a month ago when Jungkook finally got his shit together and confessed—ugh, the mutual pining seriously sickens him. Even if Taehyung is glad for Jungkook, he is uncertain how he can even settle down after living his greatest life. Man, Jungkook was on the top of the world—good athletic career, good body, beautiful girls—but now that he is settling down, and it kinda makes him uncool in a way. Probably because now he has a girlfriend, he is not really active in all the jock and frat activities like he used to. Girls are already done chasing him, not with that love-sick puppy eyes he has whenever his girlfriend is near—or even far and even with only a month, Taehyung quite had enough. In conclusion, relationships sucks and it changes people, and Taehyung doesn’t want to let go of the great life he is having right now just for settling for one girl. Why only one when he can have more, right?

Then when both Jungkook and Taehyung were hanging out, one night in their shared room, he mistakenly mentioned that you were cute. And he did not lie—he still doesn’t—but it didn’t mean anything! He mentioned dogs are cute probably even a thousand times, but he doesn’t see Jungkook getting him a dog. What’s the difference with saying you were cute? Jungkook is a literal dumbass for even thinking Taehyung can settle for a relationship.

The night goes on, and Taehyung finds himself counting the awkward jokes that have been thrown by Jungkook and his girlfriend about this being a double date and what a great match he is with you. He is literally keeping a tab of everything—waiting for all to be finished so he can finally get the long-awaited revenge he has been counting seconds for. But not that he will say it with his own tongue, he does think that you are cool—as a person. If these pair of idiot gooses are not here, he somehow thinks both of you might actually hit it off—as a good friend, of course.

“God, this is such a great dinner, right?” Your roommate yells, looking mildly buzzed with alcohol. You side-eye her and sigh, resting your glass of wine back. One thing about your best friend is she favors red wine a little too much, and sipping on the beverage like there is no tomorrow. Jungkook holds her hand across the table, eyes filled with adoration. 

“Are you okay, pumpkin? You look drunk.” Jungkook coos with a warm smile, and she smiles back, a wide smile painted on her lips. Taehyung literally feels the urge to puke just listening to the affection lacing in his tone. God, love really changes Jungkook.

“You know what? I love you, Jungkookie!” She suddenly stands up, crashes into Jungkook’s arm, gives him a haste kiss on the lips, right before walking drunkenly outside. Her surprised boyfriend swiftly chases her away, before signaling Taehyung to pay for their dinner. Taehyung is baffled on the side. Jungkook that bastard seriously invited him for this horrendous dinner, yet still asking him to pay? Fucker! But as he notices your eyes prodding his way, he quickly puts on a composed face, giving you a thin smile.

“I think that concludes this very, very confusing but yet pleasant dinner.” Taehyung smiles, while asking for the bill. “I am sorry if you are forced into this dinner. This new couple think they got the right to play immortal on us, right?” He cynically jokes and laughs at it, but your face is too straight to respond so his chuckle is slowing to a complete stop.

“I’m actually the one asking for this double date.” You whisper, an unexplainable emotion rushing on your tone. “I’m the one saying I want her to set us up so we can be together. I like you. I want to be with you, Taehyung. Forever. You—you want this too, right?”

The fear on Taehyung’s chest is instantly risen, seeing the crazy, psychopathic look in your eyes. Well he really thought you are not the type to stick up only after a dinner—but he cannot deny his instinct does disappoint him way too much than he could even be proud of. The instant urge to leave the spot and escape is too much with his feet are already out the table until you break it with a loud, hearty chuckle. “God! Messing with fuckboys is soooo fun! I can’t believe you fall for that!” 

Taehyung scrunch his eyebrow, detecting the unexpected jubilant look on your face. He is  bewildered.

Seeing that Taehyung still is not getting your very, very obvious joke, you sigh. Dumbass fuckboy. His cocky ass big head does not surprise you even a little. “God, I was kidding! Sorry to break it to you—it may be too hard to understand, but not every girl will be willing to take turns sucking your dick, dude. Sorry, life be like that.” You sarcastically note, setting your napkin on the table and Taehyung feels somehow relaxed and offended at the same time. Weird emotions, really. 

“I don’t even know why I am here.” You continue, displaying a friendly smile now, reaching out for your glass of wine. “Should have known. I fell for this fake dinner thing too many times now, gonna reject every dinner invitation from now on.”

Taehyung grins, finally able to breathe easily. Well, he deals with way too many obsessive and stuck up one night stands now that it even terrifies him to be around them, so that’s that. You are too cool to be like one of them, he just knew it.

“Gotta make an exception for me, though.” Taehyung cheekily musters, suddenly surging a confidence on his own skin. You are already dominating the conversation too long now, he just had to take over. “How else can I get to know you better, huh?”

Being a true fuckboy he really is, Taehyung only has three rules when dealing with one night stands. One, never ever wine and dine someone before sleeping with them, as dinner is a very, very intimate thing that involves a lot of real talks—instead of dirty talks in which he is way, way better on. Two, never ever stay the night after one night stands, as sunshine is just a sign that he has spent more than necessary time with her and can only result in any bothersome attachment after. Last one, and probably the rule that has no exception whatsoever, is never, never ever meet a girl’s relatives under any, any circumstance ever. The three rules are all based on his experience learning it the hard way, and ever since, he never broke even a rule and it greatly keeps him off the hook for anything. 

But albeit important, he will let himself break his first rule for you. Only because you are hot—and probably is included in the one percent population of girls who doesn’t need to be reminded that he is not looking for anything but a short fun. A lot of girls tend to forget that easily, getting to attached to what a gentleman he is before and during sex, and always become such a bother after. But he’ll trust this one that you’re not that kind of girl. Even with a bruise on his pride, since he is slightly doubtful if you’ll even agree to his proposal for hooking up tonight. At least, teasing you is already a great enough entertainment for him.

“Boy, I don’t want to know who that can actually work with, but I’m not that difficult to get to bed with.” You chuckle at his pathetic attempt to work his way inside your skirt. Taehyung raises his eyebrow, not believing his own hearing. You are glancing down now—probably to the phone on your lap and your face instantly contorts, and a sigh of tiredness escapes your lips. “I’m way too tired now anyway, better just go back home, fuck and get it over with.”

“W-what? You seriously want to fuck, willingly with me just like that?”

You give his shoulder a pity pat, a thin smirk on your lips. “God, Taehyung, do you actually need to work that hard to get laid all these time?”

“B-but, you just said every girl—”

“I changed my mind.” You sigh, getting tired of the constant queries, along with the message you just received. Jackasses, seriously. “Taehyung, I’m tired. Let's go pay and head back to my apartment. I think the cringy couple will not be there, but fuck them, let them hear us fucking so loud they need to follow as well.”

Taehyung cannot even believe the crude answer coming out from such beautiful, innocent lips, yet the intense anticipation of what’s about to come his way is too unbearable he could not wait even a second to get you under him and win his dominance back. At the cashier, Taehyung quickly slaps a card on the table with his foot swiftly tapping on the floor in impatience. You can’t help but to find that strangely adorable, yet disgusting at the same time. You are seriously hooking up with the worst fuckboy in your university. Never thought you'd stoop this low, but that’s life, right? Let’s see if he can put his money where his mouth is.

Seeing that Taehyung does not show any sign of asking your part of the bill, you are quick to remind him. “Taehyung, I will pay you back, okay? I’ll transfer it.”

“What? There’s no need for that, honey.” Taehyung whispers smoothly, putting in his pin with a wink. “It’s just a small thing I can do for a beautiful lady such as you.’

You snort at his cringy remark, greatly bothered by his every word. “Taehyung, seriously, stop. Any effort you have to do just to get laid will make everything worse.” Taehyung smiles to himself, somehow expecting the snarky remarks even before he threw the stupid comment. You are surely one of a kind. “And I’ll pay you back. This is not a date, and I’m not a prostitute, you don’t have to pay for me.”

The unexpected aggression and anger coming from you quite blow him off his edge, as you thomp furiously to exit the restaurant. Are you seriously saying that you are bothered by him willing to pay for dinner? Taehyung is all down for feminism, but he was literally just being nice—and beside, Jungkook is literally going to stab him with a fork if he ever lets you pay, so that’s that. 

But one realization comes to his mind—he is not going to deal with you long enough to think about your weird trait again. Tonight, all he needs to do is suck everything—and he means, everything. And when he leaves before midnight, then all will be just fine.

*

It’s weird.

Taehyung slowly flutters open his eyes, oddly feeling ten times better than he has been recently after waking up. He doesn’t even know why—probably the wonderful scent of vanilla and citrus that is vivid on his smell. But wait—what the fuck? That’s probably the one of the furthest things he will ever wake up to! He should be waking up annoyed by strong scent of sweat and cheap male perfume, not this.

Fuck, fuck! That ceiling—the light blue ceiling with countless translucent fake stars, that’s not his ceiling either. He was supposed to be looking at a cringy, old poster of Metallica on his dorm room ceiling. And this excessively comfortable, dark blue fur blanket hugging his waist, that’s most absolutely not his. And god, who the damn is he holding right now?!

“What the fuck! Why are you still here?!”

Well that is literally the words he had on his mind just a second ago, yet surprisingly it is not him who is yelling. It is a girl he had a nice dinner with yesterday—with red wine and everything. The girl who was too prideful to let him pay, and the girl who strangely manages to throw him off his game with their continuous three rounds of dirty, dirty sex and God, he swears he never cum harder before in his life—and it says a lot because he does lots of sex. Like a lot. Yup, it’s you.

God, he shouldn’t be here, he should just head home right after sex. He broke his second rule, right after breaking his first one last night, even worsewith the same girl—you. What the fuck is wrong with himself?!

“You said you would leave after a ten minutes nap!” You hiss, clearly disliking the fact that you have to wake up seeing his annoyingly handsome face—with bed hair mussed deliciously and all. Is it weird that you are feeling terribly ugly right now with him still looking like a handsome sex god on your bed? And still feeling his arm around your wait, you groan in disgust. “And why the fuck are you holding me?! Seriously, you are the worst one night stand ever.”

Taehyung quickly detaches himself off you like you are a disease, yet no offense taken since you are glad he is finally a distance away. “I was fucking tired after fucking three rounds yesterday, I think I fell asleep longer than I thought.” You roll your eyes since all you hear is bullshit. “And for your information, I always sleep hugging my bolster. And since you are fucking weird and do not have a bolster, I guess I just settle for less.” He reasons, but you respond with a snort.

“And the worst one night stand ever—are you kidding me? Funny I don’t recall you saying that last night when I generously let you cum in my tongue.” Taehyung continues with a smug, and you can’t help but to feel heated at the memory of last night, Taehyung finally used his mouth for a better cause for once—since you despise it when he is talking. Yet there is no use denying that Taehyung is indeed a master with his tongue, but of course you’d rather cut your arm rather than admitting it to his cocky ass face.

“Pssh—like you weren’t begging to have a taste.” You sinisterly defend yourself and Taehyung chuckles, vaguely shrugging as an answer. You involuntarily stare at his smiling face, and you have to admit he does look his best with it.  God, are you seriously thinking such domestic thoughts with this fuckboy right now? The alcohol must still have an effect on you.

“Why are you staring at me? Finally realize that you should have just jumped on my bone again instead of doing this strange, pillow talk?” Taehyung impishly grins so you land a strong punch on his bare chest with all your might. He lets out a definite cough, definitely not expecting the strength coming out from such a small frame like yours. “Damn woman, what exactly are you?!”

“A girl that can definitely kick your naked ass out of her apartment if you don’t leave in five.” You solemnly warn. Taehyung let out a light laugh, shuffling out of your blanket with no shame whatsoever with his straight out of womb nakedness to grab his clothes. And you cannot bear to notice how apparent his morning wood is—and it brings pleasant yet unnecessary memories of last night to your mind. You seriously need to get a hold of yourself cause if not, you might have to play with yourself after and you don’t really want to get off with the thought of him for the fourth time now. “For the love of God, Taehyung! Put some clothes on!”

Taehyung is unimpressed, pointing at his clothes like it’s the most obvious thing. “What are you—yes, I’m doing it right now, you idiot. And I’m using your bathroom first, I don’t want to look like a fucking idiot, walking around the campus with a morning hard on.” He pouts, but then a smirk formed on his lips. “Or you want to lend a hand with this?”

You shut him with a pillow thrown to his annoying, smug face. “The fuck no. And what, no you can’t!” You answer in panic, pointing to your door. “We only have a shared bathroom here. Let me check if my roommate is out.”

Taehyung sighs. “Y/N, you literally told me last night to fuck as loud as we can and let them hear so they can follow.” Listening to him quoting you from last night, you internally wince. You literally don’t have any trace of ever saying that in your vague memory. God, you must had been drunker than you thought.

“That’s just the drunk and horny talking.” You hiss, trying to steal a peek through the door. There is no sign of your roommate, so everything should be good to go. Or at least you think so. “The cocky ass new couple will be all over our asses, Tae. They will think something is up, try setting us up like yesterday. Ugh, no thanks. You have to leave without anyone knowing.”

“Hate to say you are kinda correct in that one, buddy.” Taehyung sighs. He literally said he was going to punch Jungkook for arranging the dinner, yet now he was the one taking advantage of it. He would not let Jungkook win on that one—he still desperately needs that one punch chance or that fuckers will never let it slip ever, even until the day he is well rested and buried. “Okay, is she out now? Jungkook is not there, right?”

Like a cue of bad luck, your roommate and Jungkook walk out of her room, hand in hand with each other right to sit on the sofa. Jungkook kisses the tip of her head, caressing the side of her face while scrolling through netflix on the tv. “I can’t believe we are watching Taken for the hundred times already just so you can fulfill your Liam Neeson odd kink.” Jungkook impassively huffs.

“God, Liam Neeson kink? Your roommate is fucking weird.” Taehyung lowly whispers, all of a sudden already squatting beside you. You jump a few steps back due to the shock of seeing his face up close, clutching your chest dramatically.

“Damn, can you stop shocking me?!”

Taehyung greasily winks. “Baby, I don’t think anything should shock you after seeing my dick in all its glory.”

You fold your chest, slightly amused but majorly annoyed by his unending arrogance. “Ugh, don’t baby me. And well, I am still shocked probably because I don’t think your dick is outstanding whatsoever.”

Taehyung ignores your stubborn, obviously a lie remark, and continues peeking from the door crack. “God, a film. Probably take them one or two hours. But I think Jungkook has practice in… one and a half hours, so maybe I can go by then.”

Your frown turns deeper, dreading the imagination of spending another hour with him, locked in your 3x5 meters room. Are you even capable of holding yourself from strangling off his cocky, annoying head? This could probably be the greatest challenge you will ever have to face. 

“What should we do for an hour and a half….” Taehyung whispers to himself, sends you a suggestive look while wiggling his eyebrows. You quickly send him your middle finger as an answer, already rejecting whatever idea he has since you are well aware there is no possibility you will like it.

“I am not suggesting to fuck, sorry if you were expecting that.” Taehyung lopsidedly smirks, and you fold your arm in agitation. God, you wish everything can be over so you can go to your parents home and call it a week. And it’s saying a lot since you never look forward to going back home every weekend. “I won’t refuse, but I just want to play now. Do you play animal crossing?”

“Seriously?! You play too?!” You are surprised to say the least, voice unforeseen raising in delight. You really do not expect a fuckboy like Taehyung would play a game like animal crossing—you thought he would hold on to that toxic masculinity and play whatever popular ‘boy’ games right now. It is strangely a nice surprise. “Can I visit your island? Let’s trade too! I have bamboo shoot lamp, log dining table—”

Taehyung chuckles, seeing how passionate you are, scrambling to get your nintendo from your night desk and turning it on while blabbering non stop about your items. He strangely finds it endearing, how drastic you can be when you are not trying to kick him out with a torch and pitchfork and it only takes a freaking animal crossing game. You are tremendously unpredictable, and he finds himself liking the refreshing change of pace. He walks back to your bed, sitting beside you while you animatedly chatter about your island.

Is it too wistful to wish that the current strange yet greatly amusing thing going for the both of you does not have to end now?

*

After being firsthand kicked out from your apartment when Jungkook went to his practice, Taehyung walks to the basement to get to his car in a strange mood. It’s Saturday, yet he doesn’t know what to do or where to go. There is another frat party that will be held tonight, yet he finds himself less than excited to go. He loves parties, but he is not delusional to think that he will love it forever—he is already in a phase of finding parties are monotonous and boring most times. Yet going home is not really a convenient option since there is no use—it’s empty anyway. Frankly, he doesn’t even know what home to him really is. Is it his dorm? Is it the party? Yet they probably give him a better definition of home rather than his own real house.

So Taehyung decides to drive his car back to his apartment on the other side of the town, far from his parents house. The upside of being a child of divorce is probably being shoved money to his mouth like it's the only thing that matters—yet he doesn’t mind. Or maybe he does, but there is no use in complaining, right? He is 21 now, he is over that complaining, depressed phase of his life. Maybe take a couple of depressants tonight, cry a little to sleep and he should be fine. Or maybe he’ll schedule a session with his psychiatrist—he has been missing lots of sessions and it may or may not has taken a toll on him already.

After arriving his car inside the apartment building, Taehyung sighes on his seat, a great exhaustion painted on his face—and he literally is. Just a few hours ago he was able to momentarily forget every issue in his life, but after he is alone, the anguish of loneliness hits him like a ton of brick. He is alone. He is nobody. Nobody likes him, even his own parents. He is just an emotionless shithead who is not right in the head. Who is he to think that he is worthy? Nothing in his life he achieves with his own hands, and life is just a constant train of problems and disappointment. It will never go the other way, since happiness is not for him.

Taehyung rests his head on the wheels, shutting his eyes tight to handle the tears coercing to rain out. No! He doesn’t want to cry now! Even then the ugly tears won’t stop coming out, and he tries to find purchase by hitting his head on the wheel. He enjoys the pain. The pain he is feeling right now—it never felt so right before.

Right until someone knocks on his window, simultaneously stopping his current emotional breakdown. He looks up—probably looking like an ugly, crying mess, expecting the security with an disapproving look on his face for the nth time. But instead he finds someone that instantly melts his whole being—somehow successfully distracting him from the intrusive thoughts he was having.

“Taehyung, are you okay? Hey come out, you have been there for awhile now.”

Taehyung quickly sweeps his tears with his sleeve, fixing the hairs on his forehead to conceal the bruise that might be formed from hitting it multiple times to the wheel and look down. God, this is embarrassing! He never thought he would meet her again in this situation—it seems like life is playing games on him and he despises it for her to always find him in such a ridiculous situation.

“Mina, hi.” Taehyung stutters nervously, somehow avoiding his neighbor prodding eyes that always sends him to nervous bundles. “I—I don’t know you’re home.”

“What are you saying, I’m always home.” Mina chuckles, pointing at the paper bag filled with groceries. “Just came back from grocery shopping. I am cooking pasta today. You wanna join?”

Taehyung looks at her sincere eyes, silently thankful that she is not going to mention his previous breakdown—not that she ever does. Whenever she witnesses his breakdown; crying in his car, hearing screams when he feels suffocated, things being thrown away, and even that one time he brought his one night stands back to his apartment and the girl runs out crying due to his unpleasant way of shooing her away; Mina never judges. She would come knocking at his door, asking him to join her watching the TV, or eating the less than edible food she cooks herself. It’s always a great time with her, and Taehyung could not lie that he feels greatly comfortable with her presence.

“I would love to. Kinda unsure if I won’t get a digestion issue after eating it, though—but i’ll take my chances.” Taehyung smirk cheekily. The girl scowls, shoves him away with her free hand, and strides inside the apartment lobby without waiting for him. Taehyung warmly smiles, quickly walks to her side to walk to their neighboring apartment. “Here, let me take that for you.” Taehyung instinctively grabs the load off her arm. Mina smiles, pressing the lift button to their apartment level.

“It’s been such a long time since your last visit, Tae.” She is staring intently on the man beside her. It was too much for Taehyung, causing his heart pounding faster than normal. He bit his lips, looking anywhere else but her.

“I missed you.” She whispers.

That is it. The word he longs and needed to hear the most—ironically not only from her, but from everyone. And now Mina is saying it to her, Taehyung feels like he is about to cry from the overwhelming emotion. Oh, how he wishes he could say the reason behind his absence. But no, he has to be strong, at least this once. So he forces a thin smile, and tries to change the topic to anything else.

After five minutes full of small talks and keeping up with each other’s lives, Taehyung and Mina finally arrive in front of her apartment door. She shuffles on her purse. “Wait, I’m grabbing my keys.”

“No shit sherlock.”

Right when she swings open the door, someone is already waiting inside, waiting on the couch while watching Pororo. “Mama!” She squeals in delight, running to Mina’s grasp with her two ponytails waving through the air, then clutching onto her for dear life. “And Taehyung oppa is here too!” She shouts in delight, changing her target now to Taehyung for a hug. Mina instinctively retrieves the paper bag from him so he scoops the little girl and holds her close. 

“Oppa, I miss you so much! I haven’t seen you since forever!” The five years old pouts, lightly hitting his chest with her cute, little fist. Taehyung quickly gives her a kiss on the cheek—oh, how he adores the little girl in his arms now. 

“Sorry, oppa is busy. But it’s okay since he is here now!” He smiles, trying to lighten up her mood. She is the whole reason that Taehyung is here in the first place—the little gremlin he loves so much, probably even more than himself. She is Yuna, Mina’s daughter.

Mina is two years older than Taehyung, and she was married three years ago to a man with a daughter. The man is away most of the time for his job offshore, and is back every three to six months. When Taehyung bought the apartment they were already living there—the first neighbor that welcomes him warmly regardless of how unwelcoming he was, as he hated socializing with new people. But they never exchange anything beside a short, civil smile until one day.

Everything changed on the day Taehyung was about to head for class, he found an unannounced guest standing by his door—a four-years-old Yuna, unknowingly went out while her stepmother was sleeping. Yuna was lost, crying out loud because she couldn't get back inside. Taehyung was well aware of the identity of the toddler, so he instantly knocked on his neighbor's door while holding Yuna’s petite hand on his side. 

After finding the fact that her daughter was put in danger by her own carelessness, Mina cried, feeling totally remorseful for forgetting to lock the door. She mentioned she was so exhausted, finishing all night for her upcoming book and having to clean Yuna and the house after. Later that night she invited Taehyung for a thank you dinner, which did not really go well since she couldn’t cook for shit—but still insisting to. Yet even with an upset stomach, Taehyung never felt as comfortable as when he was having dinner with her. At that time, he was severely lonely and needed a friend. That’s how it began—he would always knock on her door, and she always welcomed him with open arms. He got addicted to hanging around Mina and her beautiful daughter.

Yet it was a very foolish thing to even let himself believe hanging around nearly every single day around a married woman is harmless—because he was and still is an idiot and somehow, against all odds and his own cynical thoughts, he caught feelings. Bad. But how could he not? Mina was probably the kindest, the most beautiful soul he has ever met. She always knows the right thing to say at the right time, and being around her always makes him feel hundred times better. She sees the real him, instead of the dumb, rich and messed up fuckboy everyone sees him nearly everywhere. Like seeing her and talking to her—he could finally breathe after holding it for the longest time. 

But it was not long until every illusion Taehyung had fell through. Mina’s husband came back home from his three months offshore work and that's exactly when he faced a cold truth that nothing was ever going to work out anymore. Mina is married to a very kind man as well, and Taehyung would never go against his sanity and ruin it—especially when he knew who would be the most affected by it. It’s Yuna, the most wonderful child who has frankly gone through a lot after her birth mother passed away a few years back from cancer. Taehyung is a child of divorce for god sake, he knew how painful it was for the child like the back of his hand. He would rather die than to be the one doing it to her. That’s the sole reason he has been avoiding Mina and Yuna at all cost. All because he wants to protect the two girls he adores so much.

“Oppa, I am still waiting to play the toy with you! Come play with me!” Yuna cries, promptly running inside her room to grab a few of her new toys. Taehyung easily complies, walking to the living room and detecting a bunch of very Yuna-typical toys—zombies. She always loved playing plants vs zombies on her device, so he bought her zombie and plants toys on her birthday two months ago, but never got to play them before with her. Yet when the large toy on her little grasp is close, Taehyung detects that it is still securely sealed.

“Yuna, you never played this before? Don’t you like it?” Taehyung is saddened at the fact that the girl never played with the toy he gave. But Yuna fervently shakes her head, comfortably sits on Taehyung’s lap like old times and leans on his chest. 

“I like it! But I want to play it with oppa first!” Yuna smiles widely, showing her missing front teeth and Taehyung is unable to hold his smile. The girl is literally the cutest girl ever to exist and he is willingly smitten into her cute charms. Taehyung pecks her cheek in fondness before helping her in opening the box of toys.

After a great forty minutes passed, Yuna is already exhausted, sleeping on Taehyung’s chest since she spends too much of her energy screaming, laughing while playing with her plants vs zombie toys and figurines. He leans on the sofa, caressing the top of the five year old head sleeping on his arms, gazing at her serene sleeping face. She looked very content and happy, and seeing her like this is therapeutic for him. 

“Taehyung, let me get her to her room. Let’s eat, the pasta is ready.” Mina whispers, and he nods, letting the woman take her child to her bedroom. Taehyung coughs, a strange feeling suddenly runs through his mind at how domestic all of these feels. God, he told himself a million times that this should not happen—he was trying his best to evade getting too attached with them to the point that he next to never comes back to his own apartment anymore—yet one accidental visit and he is now back at one. This is ridiculous!

Finding no other solution than trying to survive another thirty minutes without making a fool, or even derangedly hurting himself in the process, Taehyung takes a seat on the dining table with a decent looking pasta served on it. The hurried steps of Mina are heard and Taehyung quickly clears his throat. This is it, Taehyung. Just one lunch, and that’s all. You can finally go back to your apartment. 

“Let’s eat! I actually tried cooking this exact recipe before, and I know it tastes good. I’ve been practicing, you know.” Mina grimaces, remembering the time Taehyung vomited when her so-called scallops were badly cooked and his stomach was greatly upset, causing Taehyung to skip his classes for a full week. Seeing how nervous she is unknowingly brings a smile on his lips. “At least you won’t throw up this time, trust me.”

“I kinda doubt it, but let’s go.” Taehyung teases, while Mina scoops a portion to his plate. He nods gratefully, with the nerves gradually increasing. This annoying voice on his head keeps repeating the thing he is most afraid of, but he pushes it away and musters a thin smile. No. He’ll finish the lunch, run back to his apartment, and never come back for another four months. That’s better.

One habit whenever Taehyung is nervous is he always runs a finger through his hair. The said habit being done is pushing away the strands of hair on his forehead, exposing a palpable bruise which faintly bleeds due to the great force of knocking his forehead on the wheel during his latest breakdown in the car. Seeing how concerning the injury has looked with a smear of blood is evident on his forehead, Mina jumps on her seat in worry. “God—Tae! Your forehead, it bleeds!”

Yup, it is. Taehyung coherently snorts when touching the forehead with his palm, seeing a hint of blood on it. He is instantly aware of the pain. What a fucking idiot he is—god, when will he stop making a fool of himself?

“Wait, I’ll grab some meds, okay?”

Mina walks to one of the cabins, then returns with a box of first-aid kits to his side. She takes a seat beside him, pointing it so she can comfortably access the bleeding bruise on Taehyung’s forehead. One thing that she might be clueless about is how nervous Taehyung is, heart rate abnormally fast just by seeing her face in such close proximity—so close he can even spot the little mole on the side of her nose bridge—while the familiar, refreshing scent of lilac is radiating off her. She is tending his bruise carefully, her left fingers secured on his left jaw to keep him in place, and Taehyung's head literally spins. How can someone be this beautiful?

At one point, everything is too much to handle for Taehyung. He likes Mina, this beautiful, married woman that somehow gets him better than everyone, but he can never be with her. He could not let himself fall even deeper and do something he will most absolutely regret after. “Mina, stop. It’s—it’s enough.” He breathes lowly, abruptly losing his ability to speak, especially when her lips are just a breath away for him to touch. But he knows they were overstepping the boundary and desperately needs to stop. It’s not right.

Then at once, the confusion on Mina’s face turns into remorse and the next thing both of them know that their lips are touching, both eyes closed with Mina’s hands secured on each side of his shoulders. He is now kissing Mina.

Taehyung cannot lie that he did imagine about kissing her before. Yet at that time, the only thing he feels is disgust, ten times worse than he already feels for himself. Not even a second felt right—a flash of his broken family went through his mind. He just stopped to another level of low; he is kissing a married woman.

“Mina, stop! We cannot do this.” Taehyung gruffly pushes her away, quickly standing up with a heavy urge to vomit coming out from his stomach. It’s disgusting, he is disgusting. Not that he is miserable with himself, he just became a cause of someone else’s misery. He is really the bad guy in every story.

“I-i’m sorry. I’m sorry, Taehyung. I-i know it was wrong, I don’t know what has gotten into me—”

Taehyung is irritated beyond words, his face reddening while he furiously scrubs the remnants of the kiss on his lips with no holding back whatsoever. He is disgusted with himself, and frankly he is disgusted with Mina. He never should have come here. There’s literally nothing good will ever come out on meeting the married woman he somehow liked—and a realization is dawned on him. He just sinned Yuna. The innocent, five-years-old girl that deserves happiness more than anyone else in this whole world. It feels like he already hit rock bottom, like he just wanted to throw himself off a cliff.

“It is wrong!” Taehyung aggressively hisses, quickly walking to the living room to grab his belongings, yet finding the toys he just played with Yuna results in him feeling uncomfortably nauseous. This is the worst thing that could ever happen to him.“This, this never happened. It’s better for us to not see each other again.” He runs to the door with great fury, before a whimper of his name is heard. Mina is calling him.

Yet he is unable to walk away without seeing her one last time. Hearing her voice calling his name. Listening to what she is about to say.

“Taehyung, I’m sorry.”

*

After running away from the encounter with Mina, he called his super that he is selling the apartment right away. He has to close everything—every little chance of seeing Mina, and sadly even Yuna. Taehyung desperately needs some space, and so does her. It’s better not to see each other again. 

Hence, now he has nowhere to go. Going back to his dorm is not an option—he is currently at the lowest point of his life and seeing anyone from college is never a convenient option. So that night, Taehyung decides to spend the night in his car, parked on the side of Han River. It’s a place for him whenever he is sad. A place that always reminds him that he is still too scared to die. A place to remind him that somehow, he still yearns his life to go the other way. A better one.

And at one point, after bawling his eyes out, he is desperate to feel the wind slapping his face and knock some sense into him. He exits the car, taking his time to walk to the side of the river, hands secured inside his pocket. He closes his eyes, taking in the cold wind and feels it rushing through his face. The cold was definitely a tid bit much—probably to the point he couldn’t feel his face, but he somehow prefers it. 

But he is most absolutely unable to stand another minute clenching at the rail of the river, so he walks to the nearest bench, placed under a tree. It is more convenient—the wind is hundred times kinder and he can finally feel his face. And all of a sudden, his phone rings. He half-heartedly steals a glance, finding an unknown number. He easily rejects the call, before it rings once again. And again, and again until he annoyedly picks up just to shout his agitation to whoever is on the other side of the call.

“Is this—is this Taehyung?”

The familiar yet so strange voice welcomes him, and the anger on the tip of his tongue dissolves. But he is still uncertain of his hypotheses on the identity of the caller on the other side. “Yes. Who is this?”

“Hi, sorry, this is Y/N. I know we just met and I am not even your acquaintance or anything, but can I ask for your help this time? I swear I owe you one after, but please just help me with this one.” 

It’s Y/N. It’s seriously you on the other side, yet Taehyung could not believe his ears. Is his hearing deceiving him right now? You made it clear that seeing him again could be the second worst thing to happen to her—after a meteor suddenly falls and crashes on your favorite Mexican restaurant—but now you are calling him, not even a day after your last meeting? There must be something serious, and a bizarre worry immediately fills his head. “Y/N, what is it? What happened? Tell me.”

“I-I’m afraid I can’t tell you. But this is urgent, can you help me with this one? I promise I’ll pay the favor back, I swear.” 

Taehyung discards the light insulted feeling on how you mention you’ll pay him back like your life depends on it, and instead focuses on the urgency in your tone. You seem greatly rushed, worried and almost scared, and never would he ever imagine of saying no to that. “Of course, Y/N. What is it, I’ll try helping the best I can.”

“Can I ask where are you right now? I need to go somewhere really urgent, can you take me there?”

Taehyung looks warily around him. There’s only an old lady with her dogs just walking past him. He is quite far from the crowd. “I am in Han River now. Where are you? I can pick you up from there.”

“No need, I’m actually quite near. Can you send me your location?”

And that’s how Taehyung spends another 10 minutes, trying to make out your face amongst the people walking around him. While focusing on the people passing around, suddenly a cold hand slaps his shoulder and sends Taehyung on his toes, startled beyond words. “Fuck, Y/N! You can’t startle me like that!”

“I’m sorry, Taehyung.” You apologetically wince, holding the black duffle bag close to your chest. “I won’t startle you again. That if we ever meet again, which I don’t really hope to. Can we go now?”

Taehyung rolls his eyes at your warm words. “Just a thing everyone expects from the person who is just asking for help, right?”

You smile widely until your eyes turn into mooncreases, and Taehyung feels his throat stricken dry. “Let’s go, Taehyung. I’ll tell you the direction.”

And that’s how you are for the second time seated in Taehyung’s black Audi, with him smoothly driving it in accordance to your directions. You bite your lips in nerve, occasionally stealing a glance at Taehyung who is busy driving, looking around the streets with hesitation. Of course he would be, the direction you are giving must be unfamiliar for nearly everyone sane. “Hey. Can I ask you something?”

You don’t want Taehyung to question where you are heading right now—as he will instantly dump your ass on the street with no second question asked. “Yes?” You whisper faintly, crossing your fingers that it would be anything but that question.

“Can I turn on the music? Are you okay with that?”

The tense on your body crashes down with an exhale. “Of course. It’s your car, Taehyung, you can do anything with it.”

Taehyung snorts. “I am just being nice. I seriously think you might be a grinch for any kind of fun, the type to love creepy, dead silence while driving.”

“You are seriously a child.” You shake your head in disbelief, and Taehyung's lean forefinger taps the music button, connecting to his phone. “And god, you seriously got no other car, Taehyung? A less flashy one, I guess?”

Taehyung smiles proudly, patting the wheel with affection evident in his eyes. “No. Cecil is my baby, and I would never trade her for anything else.”

You groan at the foreign name. “Who the fuck is Cecil? God, don’t tell me you’re that creep who names dead stuff.”

“Hey! You don’t know how long and what kind of things Cecil has gone through with me.” Taehyung literally yells. He is one peculiar pea, but you are in no place to judge anyway. You are literally a nobody. “And you can’t tell me that, Cecil is the one who is helping your ass to wherever we are going right now.”

You decide not to prolong the abnormal debate you had with Taehyung, so you turn silent and point to the direction of your destination. When the car is heading to dark, narrower streets, Taehyung realizes they are already too far outside downtown, in a place where he knows he would never visit in any possible scenarios in his life ever. 

“Y/N, I know I am not supposed to ask anything, but this is getting creepy and I just need to know why the fuck are we in this creepy, suspicious place?” Taehyung hisses, noticing that everything is too dreadful to be true. He doesn’t even know this place to ever exist in Seoul—that’s if they are still in town. “Where are you taking me?! God, don’t tell me you are going to murder me, take Cecil with you and sell her away?! Please don’t do it, especially the last one!”

You sigh at his nonsense, frankly tired and majorly nervous since your destination is already near. You glance at the message displayed on your phone. He is already waiting. “God, Taehyung. We are just five minutes away, just drop me off anywhere and you can run off after.”

“What? No! What about you? How are you going home this late, and from this creepy ass place?!” Taehyung stares at you, and you can find a genuine worry in his eyes for your well being. God, you are speaking nonsense, since there is no way Taehyung can even have feelings for you other than lust, and that’s just fact.

“It’s okay, someone will take me home.” You doubtfully answer, wanting Taehyung to swallow your lies even if you are not so sure yourself. Somehow you doubt the man you are meeting now will have the heart to take you home after this. You can just grab a taxi or bus—if they are still available—after anyway, it should not be an issue, right? But even self pep talk does not change a thing, you are still scared beyond words. This neighborhood indeed terrifies you, especially at night. 

The car is now settled in front of the dark building that you identify as your destination. “Are you sure, Y/N?” Taehyung mindfully asks one more time with hesitation fills his gaze. At the persistence, you are slightly touched. “I don’t know what you are doing or who you are meeting there, I won’t ask. But I swear, I don’t mind waiting for you.”

You have a hard time believing—when was the last time someone cares for your safety like this? Life has been just a constant repetition of pushing anyone away from nearly half of the things going on with you, and to have someone you clearly is just using and still greatly show his concern is so strange. Maybe it’s time to admit that Taehyung is not just the heartless fuckboy you expect him to be. He may be more than that.

But no, you don’t need to involve him further inside the mess you are in, and he won’t be near long enough to stay so no need to get in such depth with him. And only god knows what would happen to an elegant, once in a lifetime seen black expensive Audi parked in this neighborhood. “Taehyung, no. I’ll get home safe, I swear.”

Taehyung does not want to push his agenda, even if he is still unable to turn off the alarms at the back of his head. “Sure, if that’s what you want. At the very least please let me know when you arrive, or if anything happens, okay?”

You nod, not really sure what to reply to his untypical concern. But then the annoying Taehyung is back as he mutters the next reply. “Or don’t. I just realized I left my charge somewhere and my battery is dying, probably not gonna see them till the next two days.”

“You are fucking annoying.” You spit with a sarcastic smile and Taehyung chuckles lightly, lightening up the mood. “See you, Tae. And thank you for taking me, I owe you one.”

You walk inside, finding Taehyung’s Audi is still parked there. Seeing how he vaguely gets caught inside your mess, and you feel apologetic. You huff, braving youself to knock on the door, then find a man that has been blowing up your message for a while now. He holds you close, taking you inside the house with odd affection. “Baby, who is that with a black, expensive car? Is that your new boyfriend?” 

You look at him, trying to keep your composure straight. You really do not want this despicable man in front of you to get any strange idea whatsoever about Taehyung. “He is not.” You adamantly hiss, pretending nonchalance. “He is here because you, somehow cannot pick me the fuck up. There is no uber or taxi that wants to get me here at this time of the night, and I swear to god you better get me home.”

That man pulls you closer, his lips closing on your side jaw and his arms circling your waist. All of a sudden, your resolve crumbles at his familiar touches. “I miss you, baby. And don’t worry about going home, you can stay the night here.”

His lips are swiftly grazing your sweet spot, right at your collarbone and you instinctively let out a moan of pleasure when he sucks on it like there is no tomorrow—to the point it will surely leave evident hickeys. God, he really knows you like the back of his hand and you have no idea whatsoever to do about it. Three years together is very evident now—he can read you effortlessly. 

“Stop it.. You know I’m staying at my parent’s tonight, I have to go home.” You let out a hushed whisper, a moan escapes your lips when his hands slowly stray from your shoulder, down to your waist and to the area that leaves you breathless. God, you are out of your mind for him.

“Fuck them. You know I really miss you, baby… I seriously need to be inside you right now. Don’t you miss me? Stay tonight.”

At his discourteous words at the mention of your parents, any illusion and lust at wanting to have in any way he wants dissolve into thin air. He is still the same old, disrespectful man that will never give a shit about you, especially your parents. But what exactly was the expectation you have for him? You are foolish to even think he will magically has understanding and common sense, since he is a monster.

But you are the one responsible for creating this monster…

The familiar guilt instantly fills your chest all at once, and it vividly constricts in pain. You push the black bag to his chest in a rush. “Here’s what you asked. I just did the best I can—don’t call me again. I have to go home.”

As you run to exit the building, you half-expect him to hold you back, apologize, or do anything that somehow might stop you from leaving into the unwelcoming, shady neighborhood, at nearly midnight, but nothing. The frustration that suffocates your chest is too much, and it is extremely hard to breathe. Your head spins with countless voices running inside your head, screaming incoherent words that somehow sends you into a great panic.

And you take a deep breath. Then the second. Then the third, trying to empty your mind from any intrusive thoughts that are doing you no good whatsoever. Right until you can finally close everything off, trying to pick your phone and get an uber—if it’s even possible. The reason you needed to get Taehyung help in the first place is that no uber or taxi would like to even come close to this place, and there’s thin to none chance you’ll ever get one. 

And you are correct, since it’s already five minutes in and there is no sign of your request ever finding a ride home tonight. You are in deep frustration for there is no hope whatsoever in getting back home. Your parents are away, but your grandma is home—you left your responsibility of taking care of her to meet that man. Your parents are going to kill you if they ever find out you are escaping home, especially to meet the man they hate the most in this whole world—the man who is greatly a bad influence on you, the man who made you hospitalized for months, the man who they recognize as your ex. 

But even with how far he is from ideal, he is still the same man who fought for you. The man who taught you love and sacrificed himself for you in no way anyone would. You don’t want to let him go—you are aware that he has strayed far, but he’ll come back soon. You held onto that for a long time, even with the faith you have on him is slightly dwindling. It’s been nearly three years since that accident, and you found that he is still the same, obnoxious man he was and even worse, yet you cannot let him go. Your conscience would never let you.

Feeling the remorse that is starting to overwhelm your senses, you notice there is literally waste in vain to think about that. You have to think for the present, how the fuck can you do to get home? Your parents might be home any time now, and they will never let the matter go until you are forced to confess that you are indeed, meeting your ex—the one person they loathe the most.

So you decide to run for your life to the nearest stop to take a bus or any available transportation, away from the shady neighborhood. You start with a fast stride, but you hear a sound of an engine booming behind you, slowly creeping on your side of the street. The red alarm on your head is loudly screaming. Someone is following you, and at once the worst memories of your life hits you like a truck. 

You abruptly fasten your pace, keep on running. But due to the nerves, your leg is close to giving up. You are exhausted beyond words, and the intrusive breakdown inside your head is not helping either. Just in five minutes you have no strength left and fall down on the pavements, your body trembling, tears crashing loudly as you hide your body inside your arms.

You never should have come to this place. You never should have come back to him. That time he loved you and cared so much about you was years ago, and he changed. He will no longer be there to rescue you. He doesn’t even give any shit about your safety. When will you ever be strong and stop whatever nonsense you are having for him?

“Hey, hey what happened, Y/N? Why are you crying?!” 

You are still bawling your eyes out like there is no tomorrow, your whole body trembling hard with both your legs secured on your chest. Someone is touching your arms, but you are too frightened by the imagination inside your head so you can do anything but to hold your legs even closer. “Please.. Please don’t hurt me..”

“Y/N, what are you—This is Taehyung. I have been calling you since you walked out, but you are not responding. Y/N, you are shaking so hard.. God, you’re scaring me. Please say something.”

After listening to the words that send you to a haze for having a hard time believing whatever it is, that man holds you close, his strong arms around your shoulder, his wide palm caressing your upper back slowly. “Take a breath, Y/N. You are panicking, but it’s okay. Take a deep breath. Everything is okay. I am here.”

At the constant calming ministration from Taehyung, along with his warm hug around your trembling, drenched with cold sweat body, you find the tense on your body is progressively decreasing to the point you can finally think and speak clearly without any more tears falling on the side of your cheek. You look up, finding Taehyung’s worried gaze seeking into yours.

“Why are you here, Tae? I thought you went back.”

Noticing how much you already get better from the panic attack, Taehyung can finally let go the breath he has been holding for quite a long time now. “I was about to, but—hey, I’ll tell you everything in the car. For now let’s go, you have been sitting on a pavement, who knows what germs you can catch from there.” Taehyung whispers with a vivid disgust on his tone. At that, you can finally smile. Albeit thin, Taehyung feels like he has achieved something remarkable. He quickly holds you up, arms secured around your waist to help you walk inside his car.

Taehyung opens the door for you, yet you are still hesitating to enter. “Get in, Y/N. I’ll take you home.”

“But.. your seat. What if my germs polluted your seat?” You are innocently concerned, and Taehyung can’t help but to chuckle. He did not expect such polite questions coming from you who just had a literal breakdown, yet he finds it endearing.

“It’s okay, Y/N. I’ll be taking Cecil to car service tomorrow as well, so it’s no issue. Get in.” 

Dubiously you step your left foot inside, before you gasp in surprise that shocks Taehyung as well. “I have a scarf! Let me sit on that.”

Taehyung follows your vigor on going through the small bag hanging on your shoulder with his eyes. “Not really necessary, but whatever. I’d prefer your shirt though. Can you sit on it instead?”

You snort. “Pervert.” He responds with a smirk, skipping to the driver side.

After a good ten minute driving in silence, you open your voice, your fingers nervously fondling on the button of your purse. “Thank you for waiting. You are such a lifesaver, I-I seriously don’t know what I will do if you are not there.”

Taehyung nods, his right hand brushing through the expanse of his jaw and you intensely follow the swear-to-god attractive gesture. God, you cannot believe how someone can be that charming while driving, it’s seriously making no sense. You continue after clearing your throat. “What happened? Why didn’t you leave?”

He glances at you with tranquility, shrugging his shoulder. “I was about to leave, but I don’t know. The song I was listening to was good so I just decided to stay for a while, and then you walk out so I follow you. The end.”

Your eyes narrowed, staring at him intently. “That is a lie.”

“Maybe.”

“Then tell me what happened!”

He shrugs. “Nah.”

You look at him in obvious exasperation. “Taehyung, for god sake tell me what happened! What can possibly make you stay in this hellish neighborhood?”

Taehyung grins. “I don’t ask what happened with the hickey on your collarbone either, sweetheart. And It’s nothing, seriously. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

Your fingers instinctively land on your clavicle, feeling the strange pain emerging when so. Shamefully ducks your head in embarrassment, you throw your face to your side of the window. “You're annoying.”

“I’ve been called that a lot. By you, actually.”

“Then maybe you should stop being annoying.” You sarcastically grin.

He jokingly wriggles his sharp eyebrows. “That’s kind of my trademark, so I’m sorry I cannot fulfill the request, sweetheart.” You huff and decided not to continue the endless debate.

Another ten minutes filled with silence, until you break it with your still irritated tone. “Can we play my song now? The song you played before sucks.”

Taehyung murmurs an agreement, a thin smile finding his lips. You connect your phone, then finding the one song you always tune into. The song that reminds you of the good times when life is less than complicated.

“Is this Bee Gees?” Taehyung asks with an amused tone, nothing ever crosses his mind that you would be the type to tune to oldies songs for drive songs. 

“Yup. This is More Than a Woman.” You nod, then send a judgmental stare at him. “What? You think I am lame for listening to old songs? Yeah, no surprise there.”

He smiles heartily, finding this new side of you that is unforeseen yet very delightful. “No, I actually like this song too. My father used to sing this song when I was a kid. The whole album, actually. I even have the vinyl cd in my room.”

Seeing that Taehyung is indeed earnest, opening up a little about his life, you find yourself smiling at your own great memory as well. “Me too. My grandfather used to sing this song to my grandmother, uhm.. before he passed away.. a few years ago. I would always listen to this song and then I would always be reminded about how much love they have for me.” 

You don’t even know why you are explaining such an intimate story of your life to a fuckboy whom you barely know. But now, it’s hard to even think Taehyung is the jackass everyone and even himself proclaimed. He is just a man—a friend, who helps you when you need him the most, who doesn’t pry and understand the space you need better than anyone else. You are grateful he is there, and to say these personal things to him.

Taehyung smiles at you and you can’t help but to reciprocate. His fingers tapping rhythmically on the wheel along to the beat, humming along with you to the wonderful music inside his car.

Here in your arms I found my paradise

My only chance for happiness

And if I lose you now I think I would die

Oh say you'll always be my baby, we can make it shine

We can take forever, just a minute at a time

*

“I don’t know where my keys are!”

Yup, you are a certified, sloppy idiot. You have been standing on your house gate for exactly fifteen minutes, trying to find where the fuck did you place your keys. You are trying to search your short lived memory where you placed them, but the only thing you remember before going to Han River to meet Taehyung is how rushed and panicked you are, trying to find excuses for your grandmother.

And Taehyung stood besides you, helping you to hold the flashlight so you can make anything inside your ransacked purse. “I can’t find it!” You hiss worriedly, glancing at your watch. “I don’t think my parents are home yet, and my grandmother should be asleep by now. I will just sneak in.”

“This is dangerous! Someone might catch you and think we are thieves, Y/N, I don’t think it's a good idea, especially at this time.” Taehyung advises, his tone full of worry. You look to him scornfully, accepting that he is indeed right. There are cctvs being installed on every corner of the street, and you don’t think it would be pretty to be caught and perceived as a thief while climbing your own house. Your parents will figure out either way, and to be told by your neighborhood security that their daughter is climbing inside with a ‘help’ of a man would be the last thing you want to happen.

“I do not know what I have to do.” You mutter, hiding your face inside your palms, cursing your forgetful self internally. Now you have to wait for your parents, confessing that you indeed get out at nearly midnight. And they will chastise you to know where you have been, immediately accusing you for meeting your ex—which in fact is indeed the truth. You are screwed.

“Hey, we can wait for your parents then. We’ll think of a way, no worry, Y/N.” Taehyung said carefully, noticing your forlorn gesture with hands resting on your shoulder. You look at him with a frown and reddened face.

“It’s okay if you have to leave. You have been a great help, Taehyung. I seriously do not know what would happen if it weren’t for you.” You mutter in regret, then he answers by sternly shaking his head, clicking his tongue.

“Hey, I might be a dick but I am certainly not to that extent to leave a girl on the street nearing dawn.”

“I can protect myself, if that’s what you are worried about.”

Taehyung chuckles, keeping his hands inside his pocket. “I am well aware that you can kick my ass to ditch, Y/N. But my conscience just won’t let me.”

Before you can persuade him again to go back home, the familiar creaking sound of your front door is heard and you throw your head back inside, detecting your grandmother, peering outside to the sound of her granddaughter.

“Grandma! You are not asleep?!” You nearly yell, but then realize that it is already so late for any loud noises and manage to lower your volume. “It’s past midnight, you should be asleep! I told you to sleep first and not wait for me.”

“Huh, this girl! How can I sleep when I know you are still wandering out there, at this late of night.” Your grandma hisses, walking with her cane to the gate. “Why didn't you come in? Where are your keys?”

The frown on your lips deepen. “I lost them, grandma…”

Your grandma hiss in distaste, before realizing that his granddaughter is not alone. While opening the gate, her tone changes as she questions the man beside you “Who is this? Is this your friend?”

You just remembered that Taehyung is still present, now both his hands politely joined and a civil, yet timid smile on his lips. You look back at your grandma, strongly warning you with her intimidating gaze to introduce him right away. “Y-yes! Grandma, This is Taehyung. Tae, this is my grandma.”

“Good evening, grandma. I’m sorry we arrived so late tonight, I can assure you it will not happen again.” Taehyung apologizes with heavy sincerity and a bow. You are mildly confused by his never-seen-before politeness, especially to your family. Of course it will not happen again, Taehyung would easily walk out of your life after the constant problem you put him in. But still, it brings such a strange emotion to your heart on how good-mannered he is to your grandmother—and you kind of have a slight hint of why.

“Kids these days, seriously.” Your grandma shakes her head, but still motions both of you to enter the house. “Come in, then. You two.”

“Taehyung can’t stay, grandma! He has to go back, it’s been a long night.” You try to reason in panic, but your grandmother’s slap on your shoulder to enter the house quickly resonates that she is not open for negotiation. There is no other way than to follow her order, so you begrudgingly leave the scene, with an apologetic smile on your face to Taehyung’s way. You seriously owe him nearly everything—you swear you will do anything to repay him.

“You really have to go back, Taehyung? I want to talk to you, though. I promise it won’t take long.” Your grandmother intimidatingly offers, and Taehyung gulps in overwhelming nerves. It is probably the first time for a while since he met someone’s close relative—he even hardly met his own—and your grandma is too intimidating; he doesn’t even remember the word no. 

“Let’s talk, then.” Your grandma smiles, waving off the cold persona right after taking in his acceptance. She rests her hand on Taehyung's arm to lead him inside the house. “Have you eaten? We have some extra food. I also made Darjeeling tea, it’s good for you young people. I know you will like it.” Taehyung smiles with a nod, his head slightly spins and an aloof thought invades his head, all regarding his precious platinum rule. 

Never ever meet a girl’s relatives under any, any circumstance ever.

God, this is not good.

*

It’s already past 1am, and an hour after you safely arrived inside your house. Upstairs, you wanted to help Taehyung dealing with your pesky grandmother, but she refused you to come down and mentioned that she wanted to talk to him only. You know what that means—another drama coming your way. You seriously cannot stress how much you owe Taehyung, he has been nothing but kind and helpful today. You wanted to eavesdrop on their conversation, but your body is too tired to even deal with even more drama. You just need to set your grandmother straight that Taehyung is just a friend, right in the morning. Your parents don’t have to know as well, and everything can go as well as before.

But even with your nearly numb body, your consciousness is wide awake and you cannot sleep. So after a short while and hearing the soft engine of Taehyung’s car far in the distance, you dial his number. Hopefully it still has power—you remember Taehyung mentioned how near dead it was. 

Right after two beeps he thankfully picks up. “Hi, Taehyung. You went home already?”

“Yup.” He emphasizes on the p.

You wince at his distant answer. “Are you mad at me? I apologize, I am nothing but a hassle today, you must regret helping me.”

Then his lighthearted chuckle is heard, and the tense on your body instinctively loosen up. “It’s okay. Not gonna lie, today is quite overwhelming. But I think in a weird, twisted way I needed that. A distraction, I mean.”

“Well, at least you are entertained by my lackluster life.” You joke, and both of you cackle. You cannot fathom your feeling right now, hearing his breathy voice on the other side of the call. You know you have been through a lot today, but somehow finally closing it with Taehyung, you feel somewhat relieved. “Did grandma say anything weird?”

“No, we just drank her god-sent Darjeeling tea. I seriously think I need to order it myself. Gonna search for it online after this. Ah, she also said I am handsome.”

You smile heartily, flipping to the other side of your bed. What a lie. “I sure can vouch for that. You are indeed handsome.”

Taehyung loudly gasps, cheeks tingling upon your unpredictable sincere compliment. “What—did you injure your head or what? Are you finally admitting that, Y/N? Never thought I’d hear it from you.”

You catch yourself slipping, slapping your mouth. “Yup, I think I injured my head. But no worry, pretty boys like you are dime a dozen. I’ll find you anywhere.” You nervously snort, internally disagreeing to your own words. There is something about Taehyung’s charming ways that always keep you on the edge, and you have never found it in anyone else.

“That’s more like you.” He hums. “Go to sleep, Y/N. It’s been a long night, you deserve it.”

You hum lowly while closing your eyes, feeling the sudden sleepiness embraces you. “Okay. Thank you so much for today, Taehyung. I owe you one, okay? See you soon.”

Taehyung finally closes the call, a thin smile reaching his lips. Seriously, he doesn’t know how he can go through everything in the span of 24 hours, the thing with Mina, meeting you and breaking all his platinum rules for a girl he thought he wouldn’t see a second time. A statement from your grandmother suddenly passes through his head and Taehyung shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

She is a strong girl, but she is fragile right now, and in need for someone to believe in.

Someone to believe in? That's most absolutely not him. Frankly, he is the absolute far on the other side from someone to believe in. He doesn’t even believe in himself, how could your grandmother say that to him? Does he seriously look like someone to believe?

But when Taehyung rewinds what your grandmother explained, along with the panic attack you had just a few hours ago—he finds it peculiarly identical to himself. In a way, both of you are scarred. Life takes a huge toll on you, and he can understand what you were feeling. Living with a deep scar itself is scary, but now that he knows that he is not alone—there is someone, deeply affected about something alike, he doesn’t feel so alone anymore. All these times he always feels like he needs someone, that he is a burden to someone, but it feels reassuring to be the one lending a hand for someone else’s misery. 

Among the silence and his busy thoughts, the phone rings. Taehyung is quick to answer and the call resonates on his car. “Yes. I need car service. Some idiot bastards just scratched Cecil, it’s pretty bad. They scratched it with knives I think—i don’t really know. You can pick her up on my usual. Thanks.”

*

It has been a week since you last saw Taehyung that eventful night, and even with how desperate you are to text him again, you find yourself hesitating while typing the words. What if he thought you are looking deeper into everything? You are just a mere girl he fucked before, and it is as clear as a day that Taehyung dislikes and avoids any form of attachment—and even though you are not even offering anything other than trying to pay all his kindness back, you are still unsure.

Since that night, one thing that you know is your grandmother loves Taehyung—she can’t stop talking about him and asking where he is ever since that night. Both of your parents are aware as well, they are a bit hysterical at first at the unannounced appearance of a boy close to you—you know how wary they are ever since your last boyfriend, but after hearing how great he is from your grandmother slash the best personality judge to ever exist, your parents easily approve. Could also be to the fact that they are quite amazed by such a young man using a luxury Audi car—yes, your parents are primitives like that.

But another thing you notice is how over-jubilant they are at the sudden appearance of Taehyung, more than you expect. You know how much they have been stressing over the fact that you might still be in contact with your ex—which you still are, but they are better off not knowing—but you didn’t know it would go to that extent. They can finally joke about you finally being in ‘young’ love, which is also total nonsense. 

The worst thing is that your mother even called you and cried one night, telling that she is relieved that you finally can find someone else instead of coming back to your previous toxic relationship with your ex—oh, how can you let her know? At that time, you feel guilty beyond words. There is literally nothing going on between you and Taehyung—you even doubt if you can label whatever going on between you as friendship, it all could be just a charity work on his part, but you don’t have the heart to say so to her. Hence you just nod, promising that you would try asking him the dinner your mother asked for.

And now it’s all more confusing since you don’t know how to approach the matter. There is no way in hell Taehyung would ever agree meeting your parents—and the case itself is helpless. But your parents are very happy now, and to have it knocked away for a lie would greatly affect them in a bad way. Especially starting today, you moved out from your shared apartment back to your parents home. You love your independence, but you desperately need the money, especially since the extra side job of writing columns pays now needs to be shared with your parents as well due to your father's condition that enforces him to do his routine dialysis. The insurance helps, but it still costs massive on the pocket so you are more than willing to help them.

So you are seated now, waiting for your class to start. Your fingers tapping on the keyboard to draft a message that will be sent to Taehyung. It has been twenty agonizing minutes, and by every word typed and erased, you feel jittery. To the point you are finally too tired and give up, slamming your phone on the table and running your fingers through your hair in distress.

The sudden ring of your phone comes into your senses, and you are expecting nothing but then seeing the message, it effectively fastens the pound in your chest and you literally think you will cry. It's literally godsend, actually—how can he come through at the time you need him the most is beyond you.

From : Taehyung

Hi, just wanna ask if that ‘thank you so much for today, Taehyung. I owe you one, okay? See you soon’ thing is true or just bogus since i did not get any message since last week

You smile wholeheartedly, right from ear to ear at his witty message. So you swiftly type in another response, which may or may not contain a bit of a lie but Taehyung is better off not knowing how much you think of him in the past week.

To : Taehyung

Hi, sorry the bitch you are contacting is busy with packing her things to move back home. Can she meet you later this afternoon for lunch?

You don’t even have to wait for another long minute as his reply came almost immediately.

From : Taehyung 

Sure! But she better be paying cause Taehyung is sloppy and forgot to bring his wallet! 😉

You chuckle lightly, typing the cafe name located near college, following another message.

To : Taehyung

Such slop. But no worries, she would gladly pay! Since she should finish the class quite early, she's going to wait for you in the near park, so find her there, okay?

From : Taehyung

Don’t know until when we are going to address ourselves in third perspective but I am all for it. See you soon, beautiful! xx

You roll your eyes at his flirty text. Fuckboys and their annoying suave talks, yet inside, you are unable to hold your lips from smiling—to the point that your ex-roommate had to question how suspiciously vibrant you are today, especially during the worst class to date. You respond with a shake on your head, still with the same foolish smile plastered on your lips that is too eerie to be true for her.

Right after it’s finished, you run to exit the class—more because you need to avoid the question from your best friend on where you are heading, since you are meeting her boyfriend’s best friend you said you hated. It also seems like Taehyung is also inconvenient to let Jungkook know about your rendezvous, so you decide to keep this for yourselves first.

The weather on your way to the cafe is amazing, the afternoon breeze is lukewarm, the sun is adequately shining, conveniently settling on the skin. When you arrive, you take a seat on the nearest bench, heaving a deep breath and close your eyes. You clearly feel happy, contributed due to the weight from thinking about Taehyung and your parents slightly lifted off your shoulder. At least now you are on a talking basis with him. That’s a progress.

But as it always has been, something just had to ruin your temporary happiness. He is there, seated right beside you. Noticing the weight press on the other side of the bench, you look up, and finding your past lover, Jisung.

“Jisung!” You gasp in shock, your heart nearly falls out of your chest. He is here, in your college, right beside you. “What are you doing here?!”

He smiles, his fingers raised to your ear, settling a few stranded hairs behind your ears. The affectionate gesture suddenly throws you off your horse, as the sudden confusion does bring unwanted memories of your past with him. “I just wanted to see you baby. How you are doing, right now. I see you went home safely that midnight, quite shocking I would say.”

At his unpleasant words, you swat his hands away, facing him with a cold, hardened stare. “You are a jerk, you know that? You let me go home all by myself, in your own dangerous neighborhood when I went there to give you what you need. You are seriously the worst.” Muttering your sentence, you feel a tidal wave of anger and sadness crushes you in. 

“Hey, I don’t mean it like that, babe. You also get to go home with your hotshot fling as well, so you can thank me, right?” He sarcastically responds, and you feel repulsed at his words mentioning Taehyung—who in high chance must have brushed his annoying male ego. Jisung scoots to your side, his arms holding you close. But you felt nothing but disgust.

“Don’t be like that, baby. You know I miss you. No matter how far you are searching for someone better, or richer, I will be the only one who understands you and your body, babe.”

You are silent, neither accepting or rejecting his advances. You feel numb, you feel used, yet you don’t do anything to push him away. It’s like whenever he is near, you feel the urge to fix him. He was the victim—and so were you. Yet he was the one that was and still is greatly affected by the wrongdoings of other people. So you still believe that the good Jisung you love is there, somewhere inside this man you barely even know.

Jisung was your boyfriend, two years ago in high school. He was a humble, smart scholarship boy that loved to play soccer. You were just a simple girl who loved to write about everything on your blog, especially lenient towards politics and policy. One simple day after a busy semester—due to your social science project team that always sends you on heated debate with him, Jisung somehow confessed. He told you he always liked you, the way your eyes crinkle while writing, the way you scoff during debate, and especially the way you smile for everyone but him—it was a surprising yet sweet confession, but against all odds you accepted it since you did adore him, even with the debates and nonsensical statements coming out of his mouth. That’s how you started a blooming, new relationship with him.

Six month passed, and you could proudly say that you were indeed in love with him. He was sweet, albeit dumb sometimes, he is the kindest person to ever exist and you loved it for him. Everything was great, but as most things, it all finally went downhill—when a transfer student is registered at your class. His father was the right hand of the president at that time. Few weeks in, you realize that he put too much attention on you. You tried to ignore it, but the contact was getting intense so you set him straight that you did not like him and you had a boyfriend. But being a golden spoon kid since he was born, he never learned rejection. 

One Friday evening, when you had just finished your assignment in the library and were about to meet your boyfriend to head home together, that transfer kid pulled you away and kidnapped you to the back of the school. He was angry at your rejection, and forced you to do the things you never wanted to do with anyone, and you loudly screamed for help. The enormous school was nearing empty due to the weekend, and no one could hear you. You were nearly losing hope, too weak to do anything but cry, then your boyfriend found you. He was going to check up on you since you already took a long time, but seeing the unbelievable scene, he instantly sent a hard punch to the bastard, right on the face. But not even a punch or two suffice, Jisung punched him to pulp until he passed out, with you shivering and crying loudly on the side. 

Then a few days later, everyone finds out about the issue, and somehow the media caught it as well, the president’s right hand son is hospitalized due to a school fight. But one thing that did not sit right was that everything in the story is twisted to transfer kids' benefit. He was hospitalized, so the school and media immediately sided on him, telling that he was injured by a rebellious kid in school and disregarding the real cause of the matter. You tried hard to explain to your headmaster, everyone that might believe you, but there was no evidence and you were the girlfriend—you were trusted not to be objective. So Jisung was expelled from school, and his scholarship was taken away from him. His strict parents did not believe him even a bit and kicked him out of the house. Jisung’s life hit rock bottom. 

You were heartbroken and guilty beyond words. Jisung had his life crumbling down in a moment, all because of you, because he helped you and defended your honor. You owed him everything, and you knew how hard it was for him. Jisung refused to see you, and when you tried talking to him about it, he harshly broke up with you, crying and shouting while implicitly blaming you for how his life turned out. You also cried that evening, and you begged him not to and promised you would do everything in your power to help him.

But no matter how hard you begged him to stay, he still went missing for a few months and you cried nearly everyday. It was killing you, to the point you didn’t even want to go to school anymore. You hated everyone—you hated how unfair life was for him, someone you loved so much. And frankly, you missed Jisung, you miss your ex-boyfriend and would do anything to have him back. There’s never a day you forget sending him a message, apologizing and begging him to come back. 

And he did come back to see you, exactly four months after. But at that time, he already changed. He was no longer the sweet, affectionate Jisung you loved and remembered—he was someone else. He joined and lived with a rebellious gang downtown. As predicted, he did not continue his studies, and god knows what conniving things he was doing to get money on a daily basis. When he came back and professed his love for you, you were hesitant. He was no longer your Jisung, but the complete opposite. But the next day he called you, crying about how life was becoming too hard and wanted to take his own life. That was also the time you’d do anything for him to stop, and agreed to get back with him. And thus began the most horrifying part of your life, one you never even want to remember.

“Baby, don’t you miss me?” He whispers to your ear, noticing your distant stare and silence. But you pushed him away, realizing how improper that you are still in the university area. “I missed you so much. No one can ever suffice your beautiful body against mine, babe.”

“Stop it, Jisung. I am not your sex slave, the one you can do anything against my will.” You hiss, pushing him away with a hardened stare filled with hatred and disgust. “I gave you the money you want. What do you want more from me?”

“I need more, of course.” He grinned, running his fingers on your lips. “Money is hard nowadays, babe. I notice that you got yourself a new, rich fling now. Get some of that hard cash and give it to me, will you?”

You stand up, peering against  in disgust, but you were saddened beyond words—tears pooling on the side of your eyes. “You are the worst human being. I am not giving you anything more, especially when you are going to spend it on gambling and sluts.” 

He pulled you back down, nails stabbing your skin until you are sure it will bleed. Your heart pounds too loud until it echoes in your ear. “Listen here, you bitch. Do you know who caused me like this? It’s you. You ruined my life, and you have to take responsibility for it.”

He lets go of your hand and leaves you trembling and your breath irregular. Dizziness suddenly enters your head, and you never feel alone to that extent you want to puke to the exhausting feeling. You hold your legs closer to your chest, hiding your face inside to shout all the frustration bubbling up in your chest, as loud as you can.

“Y/N, why are you— What did he do?!”

It’s Taehyung, you are well aware it is him. A sudden recognition of the promised lunch you have with him passed through your head and you take a few deep breaths and try to shove the matter far away from your mind. You look up to him with a forced smile, wiping away your tears with the back of your sleeve. “Taehyung, how long have you been here? Sorry, I didn’t—”

“I was here before you even came. I was on the other side of the park, and noticed you were talking to some guy. I did not want to interrupt and left for a while, and I came and you are already crying. What the fuck happened, Y/N?” Taehyung asks in deep frustration on his eyes, his palm cupping your face to look up to him. “Who was he? Was he—the one you were meeting a week ago?”

You are not answering, still looking faraway to nothingness and Taehyung hiss in agitation. “Y/N, I am no longer taking this lightly. This—this is bad. Please, tell me about this.” When you are still silent, Taehyung looks at you somberly, pleading for you to look back at him. “Y/N. I am your friend. Please, please let me help you.”

And then you break down into loud sobs, finding purchase in his arms around you. You never felt so sad before—all the bad memories from your past coming back to you, throwing you back into a state of panic. But as Taehyung soothes your back in a calming manner, listening to your incoherent words, you can gradually breathe. “I am sorry. I am such a mess.” You whisper to him, and let go of the hug. “I don’t think I can tell you without you being disgusted at who I really am. I am not the girl you thought I was, Tae. I am way worse.”

Taehyung looks up at you with a serene smile, wiping the tears away from your cheek. “Y/N, I am telling this because I know you will not prematurely judge, but I kissed a married woman last week. There’s no way you can top that.”

Your eyes are wide in shock at that, and Taehyung smiles at your reaction. Regardless of being scared that you will assume anything without him getting to explain, he is just glad he can be truthful to someone, especially when it is you. “I don’t know if you would really listen to my boring story. But it has been bothering my mind for quite sometimes now. Can I drop that on you?”

You nod and smile at his effort trying to take your minds off things and feel better. Not that you dislike it—it does succeed. “Of course. But not if we have to sit here, starving. Do you want to get in?”

He smiles, squeezing your shoulder and lead you inside the cafe. “If you are paying, then yes. If not, let’s go back to my frat and ask that shithead Jungkook to pay instead.”

*

After approximately four hours talking about each other and dirty looks thrown by the waitress at your prolonged stay inside, you moved places from the cafe to Han River, the exact spot you met him before—Taehyung said this was a place for him whenever he is sad and needs some time to think. Did you understand him better. He was a child of divorce, he is living with his father in Seoul and his mother is remarried and staying in London. The last time he met his father was six months ago.  At that time he said that he missed his grandmother a lot, he lived with her all through childhood but after she passed away, he was mostly taken care of by nannies. That’s why meeting your grandmother was a remedy or it’s kind—he was reminded of the fond memories with his own grandmother.

Taehyung also told you about the married woman he mentioned previously, and you felt sad for him. It must not have been easy, someone who does not really believe in love to have feelings for someone he can never have. But in a way, he believe there is a silver lining to meeting her—and in a way, you are amazed by how mature he was throughout everything. Yes, Taehyung may have scarred himself and the people around him, and done many things wrong as well, but to be able to live and act the way he did really brings him to a whole new light.

So when you told him with bright, tearful eyes about how much you are proud of what he did, it could be one of the moments Taehyung never thought he would cry in front of someone else but did. It was hard, like always feeling like he did everything wrong—but you are here, right in front of him, giving him the word he needed the most. He is glad that he was able to talk it out to someone, and that someone being you.

And when you are seated inside his car, looking out to the beautiful light posts alongside the Han River, you know it was your turn to open up and you did. You told him about everything, leaving no details about your past with Jisung. Even when you are just two sentences in, you are already crying, but it was inevitable. Taehyung holds your hands, his eyes filled with understanding. “Hey, hey. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

But you shake your head, smiling up to him and squeezing his hand back. “No-I need to tell you this. I want to tell you this. I think one of the main problems is that I always keep this from everyone—especially my friends. I would love it for you to know.”

Then you continue about your past experience. About how Jisung helped you against a bastard who was able to turn everyone to his side in the end. How Jisung left and put the blame on you. And in the end, you find yourself not being able to continue, but Taehyung kept you close, hugging you as he pecked the top of your head. “I loved him—I really did. I thought I did. It was all my fault—”

“Y/N, It’s not your fault. At the beginning, you both are just victims but after that, he was nothing but a manipulative asshole who used you for his own benefits.” Taehyung feels his heart clenched at the thoughts of your past with him—how you were held captive and forced to keep up to whatever vile activities he was doing with his gang. “Y/N, you got to stop going out with this guy. He did not even love you anymore—he is just using you…”

You know it, your sanity always told you that, but the moment Taehyung said it, it’s just.. disheartening. “I know, Tae. But—what if? What if the accident did not happen? What if we were not together? He could be living the best life right now, attending the best university in the country, meeting someone else better, helping his family's economy…”

Taehyung caresses your head, his low whispers awakening your senses. “Y/N, we cannot include what if scenario in this, you know it. Yes, there is a possibility that it should have gone better, but there is also a worse scenario too, right? And to be frank, all of the choices were on him. He could have done something better with his life, yet he was the one who chose hanging out with those bad guys, not you. So please stop hurting and blaming yourself now.”

You nod, resting your head inside his chest, crying every suffocating tears to your limit. “I wanted to. I wanted to stop, Tae. But I can’t, he will always come back.”

“Y/N, it might hurt but I think you should go to the police.” He advises, and you let go, looking up to him in shock. “It is just a suggestion, don’t hate me. I do think it is for the better. Your parents even forbid you to do so, and you were even hospitalized and depressed because of him. Now he always wants something from you, blackmailing you.. He does nothing but damage to you.”

Inside, this delusional part of you wanted to defend Jisung and all your own past doings, but you know you are not making any sense and Taehyung is right. But throwing Jisung inside jail? The thought even scares you. “I don’t know. I’ll think about it.”

Taehyung scoff in disbelief at your clear disdain of his suggestion. “Wait.. Do you—do you possibly still have feelings for this bastard?”

At that statement, you look away from his proding eyes. Do you? You are not even sure about that. Yes, Jisung could be the worst, most toxic people that caused nothing good to you, but you cannot lie that you always find yourself finding the goodness inside him, always reacting to his touches and sweet talks—it’s involuntary. You are an idiot that somehow still likes him… “I.. I don't know.”

“This is crazy.” Taehyung whispers, more to himself. He doesn’t even know how you haven’t thrown this bastard inside jail—and it is somehow because you still have feelings for him. “This is overly altruistic and borderline masochist, Y/N.”

“I… I know. Can we please drop it? I-I don’t want to talk about it for now.”

Taehyung realizes that he has been insensitively judgmental of you, and he winces and reaches out for your hand. “I am sorry. You are one of the strongest, greatest women I have ever known, and...  And I guess it’s sad to know that you have been through this and.. It’s nothing. I apologize.”

You look up to him and nod, looking up to him with a warm smile. “That’s okay, I can see where you are coming from. It’s a surprise as well, as I never thought you would be the great  listener type and give kickass advice too, Tae. You are a very great friend, do you know it?”

He cheekily smiles, shooting you a wink. “I’ve been told so. By myself, I mean.”

“I think we should drop the depressing, real talk.” You chuckle, and so does he. “I am glad we did it, but let's refrain from it for the time being. I am fucking drained now, and hungry.”

“Me too! I am starving. Do you want to grab something on the way home?” Taehyung looks around in vision, trying to move his car. You did not even realize the disappointment in the pit of your stomach at the mention of going home—your parents and grandma are the reason, but majorly due to the thought of the day is about to come to an end. It’s just ten pm, and you really, really had a pleasant time with Taehyung. “We can grab takeouts too, if you have to go home now. Or even we can go directly home and—”

He was nervous, and you cannot help but to smile of reassurance. “It’s okay. I’m thinking of McDonald’s. You in?”

He coos loudly with fake tears. “You know what, Y/N? You just get me.”

The way to McDonald’s, your mind is suddenly caught on the fact that your family is assuming Taehyung as your boyfriend. “Hi, Tae. Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, sweetheart.” He responds lightly, without noticing what the nickname does to you, focusing on the street in front of him, and you cannot hold the blush blooming on your cheek. You were thankful that it was already dark, or you would have let him catch you slipping for the nth time today. “Anything you want to know?”

“Yes. So…. get this.” You start with vivid nerves, looking down to your lap timidly. “My grandma really, really likes you. I don’t know what happened, or how can you hypnotist her since all she can talk about now is you. I think she even forgot I am the granddaughter sometimes.” Taehyung chuckles widely, showing the creases on the corner of his eyes and it is so infectious you can’t hold a smile either, the tense on your shoulder slightly loosening. “And since she could not shut up about you, my parents are aware too. About you, I mean.”

Taehyung looks at you, a hint of surprise on his face. “Uhm, really? Wow, never thought it would be that big of a deal.”

“It is. I didn’t tell you this, but I have never introduced any friends, especially male ones to family ever since Jisung happened…” You mutter, volume getting smaller by each word. “So, it was a big deal for them. And my family can be presumptuous sometimes.. And…” You hold your breath, your mind conflicted whether you should tell him or not because you are sure Taehyung would reject you straight away and harshly. You know it well, but your heart is pained at the imagination of Taehyung telling you to fuck off with your silly proposition. So you take a drastic turn and hold back your request. “I...No. It’s nothing.”

Taehyung looks at you in worry. “Hey, you can tell me anything. It’s okay.”

You look up to him with a pout. “Can you promise me you won’t be mean?”

“What are you—of course I won’t, Y/N.” He giggles, giving your hand a light squeeze that nearly takes your breath away. “You can tell me everything.”

“Okay, here goes.” You whisper, trying to muster the leftover courage. “So, my parents and grandma kinda can’t stop talking about you... thinking you are my boyfriend. I never brought anyone after Jisung and… they just thought it was a big deal.”  You look straight ahead, still afraid to find whether there is disgust on Taehyung’s face.

“So?” Taehyung asks neutrally. “It’s fine. You can just tell them the truth.. that we’re not dating?” There was an edge on his response, and you are certain he is not getting anything out of your desperate sentence.

“But I don't think I want to drop that on them.” You continue breathily, biting your lower lips in hesitation. “They are going through some tough times right now, with my father's sickness and all—the news about me dating an averagely decent man with no crime history list could probably be the only good thing going for them. They’d be disappointed to learn that we are just friends.”

“Well, they don’t know who I am yet—what if I am a mafia man with a kick ass car that I bought with money from bank robbery?”

You look up to him, rolling your eyes but trying to display your best puppy face to date. “You left a great impression on them… Can we at least pretend we are dating? For just a few weeks, and it’s nothing big, I swear. You still can do your hookups, whatever okay to you. I could just tell we broke up in the next month or whenever convenient.”

Taehyung looks at you in hesitation, a little bit unsure. “I know—but are you sure? All rom-coms never ended well for that fake relationship bullshit.”

“Surprise on you watching lots of rom coms aside, I know we’ll be fine. All those cliche bullshit always ends in anyone falling in love, but that’s not us, right…?” The second you say those things, a literal large, blazing red exclamation point on the side of the street. You are hoping it is not a bad omen. “Please say yes. I know this is a big thing and I owe you a lot already, Taehyung. But I swear this is the last time. I would do anything for you to say yes.”

Fake dating you? He did not know how to do that, especially since he has to talk to your parents whatsoever—even the thought scares him as he never got along with his own either. What if he messes up and everything goes down in ashes? Taehyung literally was about to reject, when your last sentence caught his attention, shown by his raised left eyebrows. “Anything?”

You scorn, sending a look at him in disgust. “Are you seriously asking sex out of the deal right now, Taehyung?”

“No! Of course not. That is unnecessary. You know I can have sex with you with your greatest consent and you’d be begging for it.” The cocky jackass dares to wink, and you hate how partly right he is with that. Well, maybe not just partly. “So, not that. Okay, I will agree to your proposition. I have something in mind.”

You nod, rubbing your palms together. “Okay. Lay it on me.”

“I want you to stop seeing that guy—Jisung, I mean..” You were expecting a lot of things, but not that. Especially not that. Hence the look of disbelief displayed in your face, eyes open like saucers. “ It’s for your own good, Y/N. There is no good coming out of hanging out with that guy. I know it’s not easy—I won’t force you all at once. So by the end of our fake relationship, I want you to completely stop everything. If he still insists on seeing you, or anything harmful to you, you put a 50 meters restriction on him, throw him into a jail or anything. You have to stop seeing this guy.”

You look at his challenging gaze, and seeing his expression you know his mind is already made. There are no other options besides take it or leave it. “But you are doing it for me. Don’t you want to ask anything? Other than that?”

He firmly shakes his head. “Nope. That alone would be a very great satisfaction on my part.”

“Serious? You don’t want anything else?” You ask one more time. “Just making sure you are getting the best out of this deal, since it won’t happen ever again.”

“Yup. And maybe if you insist, you can bring me breakfast or lunch too. That would be convenient since I tend to forget them.” He is joking, but you nod in all sincerity. You know how much you really need to do this, your parents have been struggling a lot—more or less you take a huge role in that, so at least you want to repay them even with a smooth, hopefully foolproof lie. “Your grandma must be a good cook; I tasted it a bit before and it’s heavenly. Maybe you can pack some of her dishes for me too.”

You nod. “She is. So… This means you in?”

Taehyung nods, with evident doubt still painted across his face. “Maybe. What does this exactly entail?”

“The regular, 1980 primitive relationships? No ass grabbing, no any mention of sexual things, no funny business. This needs to be very, very likable to my parents. You need to show you are the committed type that can only love one person and one person only, fall in love hard or that type of romcom bullshit.”

“Wow, so you are asking me to be the exact opposite of me, then. Did you just roast me, Y/N?” You giggle and nod—Taehyung might be a jerk but he is not a fool. Seeing your mischievous expression, he pinches your cheek with a scrunched lips. “I see. So no ass grabbing, no mention of sexual things and funny business—it’s only when your parents are around, right?”

It’s now your turn to glare. “I’m kidding. I’ll wait until you ask it yourself.” He winks, and you roll your eyes. Same old, fuckboy Taehyung. Will he be able to pull the act off is beyond you. “Anything else? Should I take you from home everyday, or domestic bullshit like that too?”

“Not really, but maybe once or twice per week? We can grab food on the way home if you want to. And Friday or Saturday nights too—but only if you don’t have any party to attend. If you have no worries, i’ll just make up some lies.”

“It’s okay. I’ll take you out on those days.” He nonchalantly nods, like he just did not imply about giving up his parties and fuckboy activities for you. It is quite a surprise—you expect him to immediately refuse everything involving those holy days, and it sends an anonymous feeling right through your heart. 

“Beside, it will be just a month right? I’ll be okay missing a party or two.”

You clear your throat, looking down in faint disappointment. What were you thinking, seriously? Did you somehow expect him to sacrifice that much to mere, old you? He is a saint to even want to spend his friday night eating junk food with you rather than partying with those porcelain pretty girls on his side. “Sure.”

Another ten minutes spent just enjoying the silence with other Bee Gees songs playing in the background, and Taehyung breaks the silence. “So, if in case I refuse this. What would you do then?”

You purse your lips in contemplation since you haven’t even thought that far. What if Taehyung refuses? “I don’t know, haven’t thought that far. Ask Hoseok, maybe? He is polite, nice, cute too. My parents would be impressed.”

Taehyung snorts, a hint of dislike palpable across his beautiful features at your mention of his frat buddy, the one you acquainted to. “Wow. Just a few minutes into this fake relationship and you are already comparing your fake boyfriend to someone else. What a nice fake girlfriend you are.”

You fold your arms in front of your chest in irritation. “Hey, I just say what I think is right! You cannot lie that Hoseok indeed looks fine and cute, he is well-mannered too. And the fuck, why are you so self-centered? I am not saying it to make you jealous, you—” 

At your last sentence words, Taehyung suddenly hits break, abruptly stopping his Cecil from moving; your head almost strikes the dashboard if it weren’t for his arms holding you still. You are about to curse him, right before you can see the dangerous, cocky smirk formed on his lips, then the alarm inside your head goes off, all words are dead on your tongue. 

“A little bit you should know about your fake boyfriend, Y/N. I am very, very territorial. A word of advice? Never test it for yourself.”

*

So come the first day your plan of faking your relationship in front of your family. It is Monday morning, both you and Taehyung have an 8am class. Regardless of the inconvenient of waking up, it is simultaneously the perfect time to fake those lovey dovey teeth-rotting routines in front of your parents and quickly excuse yourself with attending an early class as a reason. So that’s how you force yourself up a half an hour earlier than usual—since you always woke up at 7.30 for an 8 am class—put an effort to present yourself better. You know your mother wakes up early every morning, so you purposefully blow your hair with your loud ass hair dryer to invite her in and ask why the hell are slobs like you doing up so loud at 6am in the morning.

“Nothing, Taehyung is actually picking me up this morning, so I just.. I just want to prepare early.” You fake a shy smile, and that’s how your irritated mother goes 180 degree changes and help you decide on what you should wear—a blue sundress that sits on your knees, along with a matching navy dress shoes, which is kinda unlike you—who the fuck masochist enough to wear makeup and dress for an 8am Monday class?

And you are fidgeting on your dining room seat now, counting the seconds for Taehyung to appear and finally take you out from this hell hole called your house—your mother can’t stop gushing about you being picked up by your handsome new boyfriend. He should be here anytime now, is it possible that he bails on you the second he really needs to execute the plan?

Few minutes go by and you are this close to leaving by yourself, and the familiar car engine sound is heard and you instinctively look out the window. It’s Cecil—god, you are even addressing Taehyung’s dead stuff with names too now—parked in front of your lawn, you can hardly believe it really is him. You swiftly stand up, hearts pounding a bit with your mind turning hazy. You are seriously going to do this—you are faking a relationship with Taehyung. The Kim Taehyung. You are seriously fucked.

“It’s your boyfriend! Invite him in for breakfast, Y/N!” Your mother giggles, and you answer with a wholehearted shake of head, internally cringing of the image. You are a genius for thinking every possible risk beforehand.

“No, mom. We have an 8am. I packed lunch too, we are going to eat it later, it’s okay.” You answer her hastily, securing your bag on your shoulder before walking out to open the gate for him. You can feel the cold sweat perspiring—there is no doubt your relatives are now scrutinizing every movement of your being. At the thought of being caught, you can’t even breathe normally, too wasteful of the air around you.

Yet when you open the gate and see Taehyung on the other side, smiling warmly at you, your heart literally skips a beat. You cannot believe it is really him, wearing a flannel shirt and black jeans, a bucket of purple rose on his hand. His black gleaming hair is neatly styled sideways, displaying a hint of his forehead. He simply looks… breathtaking. Is it really him, standing in front of you right now? Are you hallucinating?

“Good morning. You look beautiful today.” He greets with a compliment you never thought you will ever hear coming from him—or anyone the first thing in the morning, along with a charming smile that somehow brighten your vision.

“Thank.. you? And good morning to you too..” You whisper breathlessly, still in haze of the fact that he is here, standing in front of you.

“I brought you flowers.” He says, handing over the flowers to you. You receive it with vivid hesitation, looking down in shock while he continues, still with the same smile. “Should I hug you now?”

“W-what?”

But before you can even respond, Taehyung quickly holds you by the waist, pulling you close inside his arm, resting his chin on your shoulder. Your head is literally spinning—the warmth radiating from his body resulting in a strange emotion, but it was gone before you can even realize. “Let’s greet your parents, and then we can go? Are you okay with that?”

Still in a daze, you are only able to muster a nod as an answer. Taehyung just now, this is not the Taehyung you remember—the despicable fuckboy that doesn’t give a shit about anything and anyone, and is always looking only for short fun and severely allergic to any sort of attachment. And those eyes looking out for you and those acts he put up, you don’t know it’s just you or there is literally something so deep about it. Like he is not doing this just for charity and help you—but because somehow he really wants to. Are you that delusional?

So after saying goodbye to your parents still with not much words coming out from you—Taehyung mostly does the small talks and excuses for the both of you, you are now seated inside his car. “Hey. Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?” He suddenly asks, gazing intently at you with mild concern on his face. “I mean.. you are kinda silent. Is there—“

You are quick to rebut. “Nothing! Nothing’s wrong, I am just.. shocked. That’s all.”

He raised his left eyebrow. “Why?”

“I mean—I mostly did not expect you’d be this dedicated. You wear flannels, jeans, style your hair nicely when I know the most decent thing you wore could be your celine overpriced shirt and loose trousers. You even bought flowers! How can I not be shocked?” You nearly yell in defense, and Taehyung smiles at your amusing reaction.

“What can I say? I am a very, very dedicated person in whatever I do.” He cockily responds, and you scoff. 

“Pssh—Tell that to your studies.” 

He gasps in shock at your insult. “I get results! And I don’t wanna brag, but I literally watched three rom coms yesterday just to get into character. You have to applaud me for my effort.”

You peer at him—like all the changes he did isn’t weird enough. “Why?”

“Just because. This is the stepping stone of my acting gigs, I might offer fake boyfriend service after this. I really need to buy those McDonalds nuggets again.” You sigh, remembering a few days ago when Taehyung tasted your nuggets—not an euphemism—for the first time and literally ordered another five portions just for himself. Well, not like he can’t easily buy shares of McDonalds if he wants to.

Five minutes in silence, before Taehyung carefully brushes your arm with his own, somehow affectionately. “Regardless of this being faked whatsoever, I really do think you look beautiful today. You always look beautiful—but that dress outstandingly looks good on you.” He breathily compliments with a shy smile. You literally were expecting that flirty, mischievous eyes glint your way, so you can disregard it easily with Taehyung being a horny dog, but all you can detect from him is sincerity and you are silenced. It was like he wasn’t complimenting you just because of anything, other than his own will. And you do not know how to reply—you are not mentally prepared for that kind of sincere reaction coming from that renowned fuckboy.

“All jokes aside—I really think we pulled it off.” He giggles in delight. “You got nothing to worry about, sweetheart. I positively think they are charmed.”

A little voice inside you tells you that your parents are not the only one charmed, but you forcefully bury the thoughts away, throwing your gaze outside the window.

*

Few days passed without a hitch, and you can proudly proclaim everything went smoothly. Taehyung did offer to pick you up every morning, but it did not even make sense with your different schedules and the fact that he literally lives inside the university area with his frat. During those five days, you could easily reason with your parents about Taehyung’s whereabouts, saying he is busy but you explain that you meet him everyday for lunch. You are not fully lying though—you always deliver the food you promised, but whenever you do, you give it in a secluded area, and quickly leave as not to be catched by anyone. 

It’s not that Taehyung really asks to keep it under the table—but you just assume that it would be really awkward for the both of you if you were to be caught by someone. You know how fast the news would travel, saying that your college resident's most favorite fuckboy—especially after Jeon Jungkook's retirement—has a complicated relationship with a very plain girl such as you. It would be a shame for him, and you don’t really need another reminder about how undeserving you are to par with him.

Friday night it is, and you have been held hostage since afternoon until now, exactly 11pm by the team task paper you will be submitting Monday, along with Jinyoung who is your teammate and shares the class with you. Library closes at 6pm, so both of you continue on it, working alongside on the desk outside the library. Regardless of the short time knowing each other, you are glad to be partnered up with him—he is very thoughtful, smart, kind and easy to talk to. You are most definitely not complaining.

“We did it. I can’t believe we did it.” You whispers, faking sobs about how glad you are while typing soundly the last paragraph on your paper. Jinyoung chuckles, having a deep breath of gladness that everything has finally come to an end. It was clear that he has something on his mind—could probably due to the fact that his phone has been blowing up for the hundredth time already just in a span of an hour. You are surprised he even stayed this long—his part is already completed two hours ago yet he still insists that the call is nothing important, and he’d be okay helping you with the part you completely need help on, no matter how many times you ask him you’d be doing fine on your own.

Your phone suddenly rings, signaling an incoming message, so you check it with a quick glance. It was from Taehyung—but then you roll your eyes and continue whatever you were doing with no further thoughts whatsoever.

From : Taehyung

Hey, where are you? Come to the frat house, we are having a party babe xx

“So, where are you heading to? It’s Friday night, are you going out? Or to a party?” You nonchalantly ask, closing your laptop while gathering your things. He nods, typing something on his phone and gives you a short smile.

“Yup. My girlfriend has been asking for awhile.” He says like it’s nothing, and your jaw nearly drops. It’s his girlfriend, calling him like there’s no tomorrow? And he just ignored her for the sake of doing a task with you? Talk about dedication to education—but you suddenly feel the overwhelming guilt.  It’s not like you can’t do it tomorrow, but you are a perfectionist and just prefer anything to be completed asap before your over-glorified weekend. 

“You should’ve told me! I would be totally okay if you left first, there is no biggie. Besides, there is still time tomorrow to do it.” You desperately explain where you are coming. Jinyoung is kind, but it was unnecessary. “Now I feel guilty.”

“It’s no biggies! I do agree with you, I don’t want to hold it until yesterday. I also have something important I have to do.” Jinyoung assures, but you still feel not good about taking his Friday night out with the girlfriend for your silly ambition. “I.. I kinda have something in my mind. I know we just met—but do you wanna hear me out?”

You easily agree, and Jinyoung vigorously reaches out for something inside his pocket, and shows a red velveteen, small rectangular box. The gasp was inevitable—never in a million years would you ever guess it would be that. “Is.. is this an engagement ring?”

“Yes! Yes. I am going to propose to my girlfriend tomorrow.” He says, eyes sparkling with excitement and nerves. Seeing how sincere he is brought a lump in your throat. “I know it is early—everyone tells me I’m too young and whatever. But I’ve been with her since we were in middle school, and I just don’t think I want to be with anyone else. I am not usually that naive, courageous person to begin with, but I have never been more sure about anything like this.” He whispers, an evident edge is heard on his last word. “I.. I just want you to give me another perspective. Or not—if you are uncomfortable, but I just.. I am just curious. What do you think?”

“Wow. That’s a lot to process.” You whisper with a nervous chuckle. You don’t even know what you are thinking—too much is happening inside your mind and you have a hard time to process and make out something of it. “I think it’s amazing. And you know this girl for a longtime now, it’s a very beautiful thing and… I think you should go for it.” 

“Really? You think so?” Jinyoung asks, kind of not believing his own hearing. “You are actually the first one to support me. Not even my parents do.”

“I think the world has been too skeptical of love.” You whisper, the lump is getting evident and it is hard to even speak. “I know that there may be a hundred case of failed relationships out there—and people tend to assume everything will follow those majority cases. Even those pessimistic minds could even lead to more failure, you know? There’s nothing good that comes out with anyone tends to overthink so many things.” 

“But anyone still cannot deny the fact that there are two happy relationships that go against those hundreds. The chance might be small, but there still is. And if those years together makes you willing to put everything on the line and take the chance, I think you should propose..” One thing that you are sure of is that each word said you are no longer talking to Jinyoung, but yourself. It is to address your recent trait, about how sceptical you have been about having a real, sincere relationship with someone and always settle for less or good enough.

Well it's true. You heard and experienced these people around you, all the struggles, ruined relationships, especially the obnoxious men you had relationships with, have made you greatly cryptic of ever finding a love that lasts. You never thought it would be that hard to face one cold truth—maybe it’s you that really needs to start finding it with the ones that have the chance to have that with you. Instead of spending it for someone that only is looking for short fun, using you only for your body and leaving the moment he’s had enough.

“Thank you for that.” He mutters, the eyes filled with emotions yet his face lightens after hearing your encouraging words. “Exactly what I need to hear.”

Both of you are now standing on the busy street. “You wanna go home? Let me take you back.” Jinyoung kindly offers, and you couldn’t even hold back the snicker.

“It’s okay. Your soon-to-be wife is waiting.” You mum with a wide smile, even with a hint of sadness that you cannot suppress. You reach out to squeeze him in a short hug. “Good luck, Jinyoung. Wishing the best for you and her.”

After saying goodbye, you walk in the opposite directions of him, wandering with no exact destination. You don’t know what exactly happened to your lively mood, now completely blue and somber. What is it that makes you feel like you are now at the lowest point of your life? Is it possible that you just realized how far you have strayed from the person you wish to be, and now you are desperate to do something and rearrange your life back to the way it should be?

It’s quite depressing to know that there is the ideal life you have been planning and craving for a long time now, but one day you wake up and find you are heading the complete opposite direction and already strayed too far.

Your phone is ringing again, and you can just know it is Taehyung on the other side. He could be the last person you want to see now, but you are desperate to just answer and make him stop. You are most definitely not in the mood to talk with his annoying, pesky ass.

“Taehyung—”

“Y/N, where are you?! I asked your mother since you are not replying and she told me you haven’t come back home.” He shouts in discernible concern and worry with a faint music beat heard in the background—he must be still at the party, since 12am is still too early for these people to head back home, on the way of bad drunken state to the point of throwing up on the streets. If that so, why would he still be contacting you now ever since hours ago? If you are an idiot, you would let yourself believe he really is worried about you. And since when is he on talking basis with your mother? “Why are you not answering, Y/N?! Are you—”

“No, I am not.” You answer tiredly, knowing precisely that he is referring to Jisung’s place. You don’t want to debate him, all you want at the moment to be is alone and cry to your heart content. “I am just.. here. I am going home now, no worries.”

A good minute of silence. “Ah, you’re going home. Okay, good.” He still hesitates. “Text me when you are home.”

“I will. Bye, Taehyung.” 

You are about to press the red button on your phone when the booming voice of him is heard. “No! Wait. This party is boring, I wanna leave. Let me take you home.”

“Taehyung, I am in no way in the mood of dealing with your shit right now.” You curtly sigh, massaging your temple in distress. This persistent boy is surely a pain in the ass. “Talk to me tomorrow.”

Taehyung suddenly lowers his voice to the point of whispering, could probably detect how out of the character you are right now. “Hey, are you okay, sweetheart? You sound sad.”

You are about to say you’re okay, but your head is too heavy with emotions and even lying about being okay stress you out. “I am not. I am not fucking okay. I could arguably be at the worst point of my life. So can you leave me alone?”

“I know where you are. Stay there, I am coming.”

You don’t even know why, or how, or when Taehyung is coming, yet you obliged to his request. Because you don’t know what else to do, or where to go, and even believing in his almost unbelievable request seems appealing to you right now. All because you want to know if he’ll come through or not. That’s how you settle on sitting in front of a closed ice cream shop, holding your legs closer to your chest, your mind wandering to the things you can’t even point out.

Yet against all odds, in just ten minutes of waiting you can detect the black Audi stopping on the side of the street, with Taehyung walking out of it and on your way. You quickly stand up, erasing the remnants of tears on both your sticky cheeks before Taehyung crushes to you, engulfing you inside his arms. His palms caressing the top of your hair, nose buried in your hair, all for you can somehow feel better.

“Why are you sad, Y/N? Something bad happened?” He questions slowly and carefully.

“Yup. Life happened.” You nod, your finger hesitantly intending to reciprocate his hug but you refrain to doing so. There is no good in doing that anymore, especially now. “Everything just.. sucks.”

Taehyung giggles breathily at your sentence, ironically finding mirth in your words. His two thumbs at the either side of your eyes, wiping the leftover tears. “Isn’t that my daily thoughts. Let me take you home, and we can talk on the way?”

On the way to his car, Taehyung securely places his arm around you, squeezing you close to his side before opening the door for you. And before the car is about to move, he ensures your seat belt is strapped and secured well, while all you can do is to stare at him, wondering what the hell is he thinking for doing all these way-over-affectionate acts to you with no surveillance of your parents. 

The words that are directed to ask about the fuck did he mean with all these things are already in the tip of your tongue, but you decide against it. It would be very awkward and presumptuous for you to assume that someone who is literally allergic to relationships is doing that because he has certain feelings for you. Or maybe because you are too scared to find out and get hurt in the end.

“How did you know I’m here?” You question aloofly and he smile.

“Besides being a genius with such great sense? Yup, I heard the ice cream shop advertisement songs when I called you.” He proudly sing-songs like it’s his proudest achievement. You snort, realizing that you indeed a dumb.

“So, what did you do before? I thought you had something to work on.” He casually asks while stealing glances at you, noting your deep silence. “Did you finish your paper?”

“Yeah.” You simply nod, trying to focus on anything else other than looking sideways, to him. “You? Got bored at the party? No girls interesting enough to fuck tonight?”

Taehyung hums in grief, and the coldness washing over your heart is greatly detectable. “Yup. The drink is so-so, the music is boring, the people are boring. You’d start thinking that this party is just too repetitive, you know?” You think you sincerely wished the bitterness on your tone were undetectable, but the fact that Taehyung is utterly insensitive by your sarcastic question bothers you a lot. God, you are such a mess. “So, now that your paper is done, are you busy? We can talk. Or go somewhere else you’d like?”

You look at him, finding the flirty, mischievous smile plastered on his face, but it only adds the feeling of nausea inside your chest. “Do you know Jinyoung? I think he is from engineering too.”

Taehyung nods, a tad bit surprised at your sudden change of topic, yet you continue. “He is my task mate for this paper. And wow… I am really amazed at him.”

“Amazed? Why?”

“So he told me he will propose to his girlfriend tomorrow.” You explain, trying to sound nonchalant. “It’s just amazing, I think. How can someone be sure to marry someone else at such an early age, that he will stay true to just one person and one person only for the rest of his life?”

“What—Seriously? There is still people as naive as that?” Taehyung snickers, and you could feel your heart drop at his vivid disdain at the mention of serious relationship. “Come on, it's the 21st century. People really think anyone can be chained into a monogamous relationship for the rest of their lives? Grow up.”

“He has been in a relationship with her since middle school.”

Taehyung’s eyes are wide as saucers. “And still wanna go through with that? I can see why you said it’s amazing, Y/N.”

“I think alike too.” You curtly sneer, folding your arm on your chest. “He asked me what I thought about it and I encouraged him to go ahead and propose. And do you wanna know why I am sad? Because I’m jealous, Taehyung. Along the way, I have turned too skeptical of love and started losing faith that I’ll have someone like that too. Too tired of actually thinking about who I should date and instead settle for undeserving men. I hate it.”

“Y/N, trust me. I know how men think, especially all these boys. It’s easy to think you can tie them up into a relationship, but it’s like.. a timer, waiting to blow off.” Taehyung stubbornly explains like love is a disease—just the way you expect him to. “It’s like you are waiting for the heartbreak. Please don’t be naive like that.”

“So what if I try and I fail?” The frustration is clear in your tone, irritated that Taehyung exactly sounds like a parent telling their kid Santa doesn’t exist. “That doesn’t mean I’m naive. At least I’m a step closer to finding sincere love, not like you fuckboys that are allergic to have a mutual love and respectful relationship.”

“Y/N, when you are a child of divorce, it is hard to believe that love does exist.” Taehyung intently stares at you, before letting go the breath he has been holding. “It’s not entirely impossible, I know there are some happy marriages too. But how can you guarantee you’re that lucky 1% with the compassionate, dreamy, lovey dovey monogamous relationship you have been worshipping about? It’s unrealistic—and doesn’t make sense.”

“But how can I know if I don’t try?!” You ruffle your hair in frustration, face reddening in anger. “I’d rather try and fail rather than not do anything at all. But you know what? I have no one to blame but myself. I am the one thinking that I might find love in college, filled with pubescent fuckboys. You are right, Taehyung. I should have known in the first place. I have to avoid you—exactly boys like you.”

Taehyung reaches out to you with his right hand, sadness and panic coloring his face. “Hey—hey. I am sorry, Y/N. Please, please don’t be like this. I overstepped it, I know. I—you’ll find it. You’ll love someone that truly loves you too. Don’t be like this, okay? I am sorry.”

Realizing that you have not replied since the fight occurred few minutes ago, Taehyung stops his car on the side of the street, just a few metres from your house. He is now facing you, holding your hand while brushing it against his thumb in regret.

“I am sorry. I was wrong, it... it wasn’t my place to be judgmental about your life choices.” Taehyung is quick to apologize, his large eyes showing nothing but genuineness. “I am just.. Sad. I am sad. You know why Y/N?”

You still are not looking at him, but he continues, even with constricted throat. He is too desperate. “Because I care about you. Seeing you cry, it’s like seeing myself too. I feel awful whenever I see you cry, I think even worse than my own. And the thought of someone breaking your heart? I don’t want to imagine that.” Taehyung whispers, shifting you to face him, eyes locking with a splash of anguish while your heart pounds fast until you can hear it echoes in your ear. 

“I have opened myself to you more than anyone else, and I’d like to think you do likewise. I am comfortable talking to you, and for you to talk to me as well. And to imagine that you have someone else that you will go to whenever you are happy, or sad, or in need of a mere hug—it’s just… it’s making me feel lonely and sad.” The smile on his lips is now painted with a hint of sadness, eyes looking down to his lap. 

“These few weeks with you.. I feel good. I finally, finally feel good about myself, like I’m not alone again. You make me kind of want to protect myself instead of hurting it. That’s a first.” Taehyung shyly chuckles, scratching his nape. Your eyebrows crinkled. What does he mean by that? He likes you, but only as a friend? Do you even want to find out and voluntarily get hurt?

“I just… Can I be selfish, Y/N? At least until you find someone deserving of all your love and attention?”

Instead of answering, you shut him with softly embracing his lips with your own. It doesn’t even need a mere second for Taehyung to respond, his arms are swift in supporting you by the waist, both your arms are secured around his neck. His lips are warm, fluff, and taste just the way you remember—like honey or great whiskey. The kiss is slow paced, nothing like your previous sexual encounters when both of you are just desperate to reach the ultimate peak, but now? You feel how much he savors every second, trying to make you as comfortable as ever with his gesture. As few seconds go by, his tongue has softly embraces yours, until you are left breathless. You softly tug his hair as he moans to the kiss, drunk with the taste of you.

At that time, you despise thinking. You despise the fact that you feel likewise. Too desperate to have him against you, to hold him close, to feel his lips, and you despise hearing the alarm screaming at the back of your head at how dangerous it is—you simply don’t want to stop. Yes, it is as easy as flipping over a hand to know that against every odd, you like him. You like Taehyung, the renowned fuckboy. And you don’t know when, or why. Maybe that one time he waited for you with no certainty and hugged you when you were having a breakdown. Or that time he listened to your story attentively and gave you an encouraging pat on the back. Or that time he picked you up, held you close, gave you flowers and kindly interacted with your parents. Or maybe all of it. You don’t know.

But then a scary realization enters you. You are just about to do it again—the thing you swear you will avoid with all you might. You settle for less. You are about to settle for Taehyung, this amazing, wonderful man who cares about you more deeply than anyone else, but will never go down that road with you. He doesn’t believe in relationships, he will never settle down and label himself for anyone. And this kiss you are sharing with him? Or the hook-ups you might just be this close of doing? That is literally driving you further inside this anonymous yet strong feeling you have for him. It’s doing you harm, and you desperately need to stop

That’s how you forcefully detach yourself for him, giving a thin, forced smile and mutter your goodbye whilst exiting his car. You quickly run to your house without even once looking back, closing the gate behind you while desperately looking up to avoid the tears from raining down on your cheek.

Yes, at least you tried, and now you know. It’s not Taehyung—it will never be him.

===================

You are correct, there is a second part to this that i’ll hopefully post soon! I really hope you like it, and please leave a message in comment and ask box, it would help a lot! thank you for reading, lovelies~

UPDATED : The Platinum Rules (Finale) : Click Here!

[futurewriter2000]

Unfulfilled Wishes

A/N: This one is personal- I cried writing the first part. It sucks.

XX

Have you ever been so confused of where you stand with someone? 

On one side of the Hall you had your once best friend, Remus Lupin and on the other side of the table you had a one year younger Regulus Black, your latest crush. 

That was once upon a time.

And you know what was worse. You haven’t talked to Remus in two months. Two crucioting months and with Regulus it’s so hard to read where you are. Where do you stand with him? Is he still with Maggie? 

And what was even worse than that- the worst. You aren’t seeing neither of them. You are in this limbo of not knowing how either of them feels. 

And then there is James Potter, the crush you had for three long years before you could move on. He was Remus’ best friend and Remus lived a street away from you.

He lived so close and Regulus lived so far. 

And the sad truth is, you never thought of Remus in a romantic way until you had a dream of you and him, holding hands and feeling so incredibly safe it almost melted you away. 

‘ You walked alongside your best friend and there was another friend you haven’t spoken in so long. You were happy with your best friend but then came a figure with his usual bright smile and quirk of an eyebrow that was cut at the wing. They were almpst blonde even though his hair was brown, light shade of brown and his eyes were usually emerald but when up close they weren’t emerald. They were bluish green. And he was tall and lanky and he was smiling at you- suddenly you weren’t happy anymore. You were so overjoyed, ecstatic and jubilant. When he was with you all past hurt was gone and he was there. He was finally there after you waited for so long. He was smiling and you felt free and at peace. His hand brushed yours and with that brush it sent such warmt down your body, causing your hand to take a hold of his. He moved it away but then you looked up and he looked down, gave you a comforting simper before grabbing your hand firmly and holding it all the way. You felt yourself lean to him as you always did- you leaned on him when life was tough. You hugged him- so that when your amrs wrapped themselves around his neck, your toes lifted your whole body weight up and his long arms wrapped themselves around your torso. You squeezed him and he squeezed you and it felt so safe, you wouldn’t want to let go. ‘

But then you woke up. You woke up to reality of him never coming back. He lives a street down and he left. He left you. He left you because he has pride. 

He left you because he didn’t want to tell you how he feels and a caring dumbass you are, you pressured him. You pressured him into opening up and when you do try to open a clam up, it has tendency to shut itself close and bite you in the process. 

You were part of this connection breaking down. You did have 50% of fault but when you ghosted him- he didn’t even bother to ask. He snapped at you like that and then he pretended that everything was fine but it wasn’t .It wasn’t for you because words fucking hurt and he hurt you so much. And he continued to hurt you by not caring enough to come back to you, which you desperately want but he won’t do. And what’s worse is that you torture yourself for it. You still think it’s your fault. All of it. You do think that. You feel like you made this connection break and now you’re torturing yourself because of it.

You know he was there for you and you did promise him to be his true friend. But sometimes his problems weren’t the only problems in the world. It sounds so selfish but it felt like you were putting more effort in this than he did. You asked and he only replied. You cared and he only replied. He never asked for you, did he? - And the dumb caring person you are, you got attached and you thought you could handle it. You thought that the two of you were just friends but two months of this just proved that you loved him so much and now you’re crying on this sucky day because you know he doesn’t love you as close as you love him. You care so much. You care 3x- 10x times more and he doesn’t care enough to ask if you’re okay. 

And all you wanna do is shout: ‘ NO REMUS! I AM NOT OKAY! YOU LEFT AS IF THREE YEARS OF CLOSE FRIENDSHIP WAS NOTHING TO YOU! YOU LEFT BECAUSE YOU “HAVE PROBLEMS”! WELL, GUESS WHAT! EVERYBODY DOES!- And I cannot carry both yours and mine. I tried and it got us here.’ 

But he never asked and you got the chance to asnwer it. 

What’s even more sad is that if he did reach out, you would grab it. You’d take it so fast- you’d just take him in as if nothing ever happened between the two of you. Because that lanky,workoholic, stressed man was still someone you care for so much. You miss him like hell. You don’t even care about James Potter the three year crush- but someone who you teased with, laughed with, had deep talks with,... you care about him and it got you dreams to figure it out. 

But it takes you reality to realize that you should move on, no matter how much it hurts you.

So you turn away, when you pass his hause and you look forward to seeing Regulus, who is one year younger than you but both have gotten close to each other. The point with Regulus is that just like Remus, he is a workoholic. He burries himself under a load of school work and you wait. You wait for him to be over. You stare at the ceiling and you wonder what he’s doing.

You smile because you remember the two of you teasing each other and him bein and smart-mouth, know it all but also being this voulnarble, stressed, lonely man that just wants it easy for once. 

‘ “I can be serious, Black. I can be dead-” you said, narrowing your eyes at him as you felt smile trying to surface. 

His face was poker face. This boy hid his emotions so well that at this point you didn’t know if he was annoyed, challanged or intimidated. 

“Well, then. Lets go.” he said, sitting beside you and staring at you with his blazing green eyes

 You observed them, of course you did. You liked the boy for months now and he was definetly interesting- You were challanged to make him your friend but little did you know that you fell for him instead. 

You lost the staring competition at least five times. You always lost with him and that drove you insane because those loses weren’t always games, they were also losing him...’

Here was the thing between you and Regulus. He was private and reseved. He didn’t show anything but when you told him that he was being mysterious he answered you this: “I’m really not. Just ask me anything and you’ll get an answer.” 

Which you did. You always asked him questions and you always made sure that the two of you were talking and sending each other letters. He was relaxed when he was with you. It felt like he might like you back but then he got a girlfriend. It was so sudden. 

Like a bolt of lightning, you felt your heart get struck when your eyes landed on him hugging his girlfriend. 

You were happy for him but you admit it hurt. You admit you were jealous because you didn’t see them together. They were both stuck up and stressed and all about school. You relaxed him. You told him to go for a run, listen to music- you always complimented him. You always, ALWAYS, made the first step towards. 

And it felt time that he met you half-way if he ever liked you.

“Your mind is bothered, sweetie.” your head shot to the woman’s voice. You looked at her steadily but she gave you such a nice, kind smile that your guard immediately fell down. 

You looked down on her post and smiled at the tarot deck. 

“A reader?” you made your way closer, observing the cards. “Definetly feeling like three of swords, if you ask me.” you pointed at the heartbreak card and she gave you a comforting smile. 

“I don’t need cards to read you, deary.” she stretched her hands to you and with the leap of faith, you took them. She took a deep breath in a few times, muttering something under her breath and speaking. “Handsome- the second one I mean. Dark features but gorgeous eyes- quite opposite than the other, who has quite a smile.” she opened her eyes and took a firmer hold of your hands. You could feel the energy being pulled away from you but you didn’t let go. “No communication. One stronger than the other. Both love you equally but one more than the other. One is better than the other, one wants more good for you than the other but both have dark secrets they’re afraid to overcome.”

“I don’t care.” you said and the woman looked directly at your eyes. 

“You-”

“I know. I should be this patient woman, who should wait for them to reach out when they are over their problems but I’m tired of being patient. I’m tired of waiting for a man to come to me. I just want them to come.”

“He’s not ready.”

“I don’t care. I won’t adapt myself to a men’s needs. I don’t need a man. I just want to not be confused!” you tore your arms away and started storming away from the woman, not knowing that one particular man is waiting in the shadows, watching as you walk down the alley...

[nightsonights]

ruined- z.k

masterlist

summary: an intimate moment is ruined after someone walks in on y’all

warnings: mentions of drugs, light smut

•••

i watched the clear alcoholic spirt slightly dripping onto the platforms of my knuckles as i diligently held it up towards the ceiling of the tour bus.

the loud bass emulated the enthusiastic chatter of the old friends and new followers that crowded the tour bus as nick yelled incoherent words of encouragement to the small people huddled around me.

“and cheers to y/n.”

the recognition to my name made my head snap down in his direction, looking confusingly at the number of eyes attentively observing ms and my leaking shot glass.

“for being a lit tour buddy and not beating the crap out of zion when he’s in his bag” nick slurred, his large grin complimenting the temporary loss of influence over his broca area.

i tittered as i glanced over at my dread headed lover; catching a glimpse of him rolling his eyes sheepishly.

“to the pretty way!” i spoke up, lifting my small glass further towards the ceiling.

“to the pretty way!” everyone chanted before downing their respective alcoholic beverages in unison.

i tossed my head back and felt the acidity of the vodka dissent with a burning sensation down my trachea; burying its vicious tendencies into my hippocampus. i set the clear shot glass on the marble tour bus kitchenette.

the dark limestone of the countertop was unrecognizable as a series of alcohol, RAW rolling paper and crumbs of dried cannabis found refuge on it’s solid surface.

i retrieved my phone from the loose confinement of my sweatpants; lifting the device to my face. i was taken aback at the increased time that illuminated before me; acknowledging the few hours left in the day.

i slipped my phone back in my pocket and mindlessly glanced around the confined space of the tour bus living room.

i am so proud of them. this tour was very monumental. it wouldn’t break records or rocket them up the charts. but this was the beginning.

this moment; this inebriated mess, would be the first of many celebrations to come.

i will miss the flashing lights and the overwhelming energy.

watching in awe at backflips and new choreo.

the late night cuddles with zion in the dark of his bunk bed; feeling the mugginess radiant off our entangled limbs.

as i reminisced the defining moments of the tour, i thought back to my fits... and how they lay carelessly suspended over the spare bunk bed.

i turned my back on the pungent earth suspension of carbon and moved pass the curtain separation to the bunks.

the loud bass grew quieter as i found myself alone with my open suitcase sitting on the darkened hardwood floor.

i bent down and pulled the rectangular luggage into my arms, sluggishly dropping it onto the nearest bunk. i fumbled with the contents overstuffed into the hinged lids, making mental note of all my belongings. toothbrush, lashes, shea butter, chapstick-

my breath hitched in my throat as large hands gripped the exposed skin of my waist.

“watchu doing back here?” zion breathed between open mouthed kisses on the soft of my neck.

the smell of his cologne intoxicated with the pungent earthy musk of weed grew stronger as he leaned into me, his staggering exhales rousing the hairs on curve of my neck.

zion nibbled on the soft cartilage of my ear, his hard pressing against the plums of my behind. i whipped around to face him; grinning at the features of his enlightened state.

“z, everyone’s outside” i giggled as his fingers diligently traced the curves of my hips.

“give me a few minutes, that’s all i need” he insisted between quick peaks.

his lips curled upwards into a cheeky grin, showing off his protruding dimples. i blushed aggressively. “you’re such a lightskin.”

we both giggled before i cupped the soft skin reflecting the outer sides of his face and pulled him into a lingering kiss.

i basked in the matching acidic taste of the shots we downed dancing between our lips; zion’s fingers unhooking the drawstrings of my sweatpants.

the cotton blend material slipped down my glabrous legs and pooled at my ankles.

my fingers urgently fumbled with the brass button of zion’s jeans as jubilation of encouragement echoed around us.

zion preceded to pamper the tissues of my dark pigments, letting his tongue swirl quickly over the blue and purples of his love signatures.

his dreads tickled my clavicle as i aided in the looseness around his waist; tugging down the zipper of his pants.

he quickly let the sturdy cotton twill fall down the length of his lower limbs; revealing the brand name of his boxers.

“OH- shit. cmon guys”

nick’s sudden groan of protest quickly took zion and i out of our world of ardency.

i let out a yelp of surprise as we both scrambled to cover our bottom halves.

“nick really?” zion groaned, trying to conceal as much of my body as he could.

“sorry, came for my charger” nick reasoned, quickly ducking his hand into his bunk. i buried my face in zion’s chest sheepishly, wanting nothing more than to forget this moment of vulnerability.

“those shots really hittin huh?” nick winked at us before retrieving his power cord.

“get out bro” zion growled, looking up in annoyance.

“enjoy” nick smirked before disappearing behind the curtain once again.

zion looked back down at me; lips pursed as he tried to conceal the grin that painted the corners of his mouth.

“this is how you have me out here in these streets? nick’s finna have wet dreams about me now” i cringed.

“ew, cmon. don’t say that” zion chuckled, nose scrunched up in disgust.

i pulled zion in for a quick peak before sliding my trailing sweatpants back up my legs.

“moments ruined. now help me pack” i instructed.

zion hesitated before he hiked up his jeans.

“fucking nick man.”

[livingmybestfictionallife]

Live Wire --The Dirt--(4)

Summary: Wren Ledden, Tommy’s best friend from high school has had a rough life and she intends to keep the nitty gritty details of her suffrage to herself until the day she dies. Only Tommy has gotten her to open up about a small portion of her troubles, and it’s only Tommy who she trusts with her life. That is until her life gets turned around sneaking into a concert one night...the same night Motley Crue is born.

Previous Chapters:

Live Wire --The Dirt--

Live Wire --The Dirt-- (2)

Live Wire --The Dirt (3)

From the second Mick strummed the song’s first note, Nikki’s face was flushed with awe. This is what he’d been waiting for; this is who he’d been waiting for. The song was almost too easy for Mick and Wren noticed the older man’s eyes flicker toward poor Rick who struggled to keep up with the ever-rushing tempo that was an excited Tommy Lee hammering away at the snare and cymbals. Her eyebrows furrowed in anticipation of what would happen next, and she took in Mick’s bitter eye roll, stomped on his pedal, and jumped into his own, improvised solo. Upon hearing what Mick was truly capable, Nikki’s eyes widened to reveal the full beauty of his hazel orbs, Tommy’s jaw dropped as he became entranced in the scene unfolding before him, and Wren bit down on her lower lip while her eyes narrowed over the man standing in the center of the living room. She didn’t notice Nikki or Tommy’s faces flash her way, not so secretly seeking her judgement, she didn’t even notice Rick was still in the room, all she could focus on was the ease with which Mick Mars played and the fact that, with him, the band would be a perfect balance of sound inside the confines of organized chaos Nikki was seeking to create.

“Hey, whoa, whoa, whoa! Hold up!” Suddenly Wren’s eyes were open again, her body no longer moving along to the rhythm produced by the drums and bass, but tense and evaluating the need of fight or flight. “D’you mind turning it down a bit, old timer?” Rick sneered toward the newest face in the room. “I can’t hear myself.”

“Would that really be the worst thing?” Wren snorted as she smugly peeled herself from the wall and made her way to stand beside Tommy.

“Nobody asked for your opinion, Wren,” Rick snapped before he turned back to his guitar to practice the same series of notes Mick perfected with one glance at the sheet.

“Hey, man,” Tommy interjected, distracted enough by Rick’s comment to stop twirling his drumstick for a split second.

“Everybody asks for her opinion her every damn day,” Nikki spat as he pointed a stiff finger in Rick’s direction while his other fingers still clenched his pick.

In an acrimonious whisper, Mick turned to Nikki and said, “The fucking hippie ain’t gonna make it.” Wren’s lips curled into an obvious sneer and she raised her eyebrows sardonically. Catching a glance at the look that crossed Wren’s face when listening to Mick as well as the expression she currently wore, Nikki turned back to Mick and whispered something just out of earshot from both Tommy and Wren. Before either of the younger two knew it, Mick turned briskly on his heel and spoke in what seemed to be his signature short, dry tone. “Listen to me, there’s only room for one guitar player in this band and it’s me, so why don’t you go pack up your toys and go home.” The room froze as the words leaving Mick’s mouth hovered in the air around them. If Mick was successful in getting Rick to leave, Wren was certain they’d have their band exactly as they wanted it; Rick being gone was simply an added bonus.

“I was here first,” Rick stated, clearly aghast as to whether or not the others would allow some random man from a newspaper ad to come in off the street and start changing the band’s lineup. “Tommy, tell him.” As his name left Rick’s lips, Tommy dropped his sticks to the floor in a desperate attempt to avoid eye contact and an impending confrontation with the man he felt they had misled.

“Smooth,” Wren said so low under her breath that only Tommy had caught on.

“Nikki?” Clearly, Rick was desperate if he was about to plead to Nikki to keep him in the band. He didn’t have to look at Wren to know it was right to let Rick go, but damn he wanted to if only to see how her strong jaw was firm, her lips either pursed together or pulled into a right smirk, her eyes fiercely staring down whatever obstacle that stood in her way. “Come on.” His vice had lost the faux confidence he was trying to pass off and he quickly grew aggravated at everyone in the room. “Really? You’re going to believe this old dude over me?”

“Look, Rick,” Wren sighed as she shifted her weight from one foot to another, her hands resting gingerly on her hips. “Don’t take it personally. Mick’s got the sound we’re looking for and you—well, you’re struggling.”

“Fuck you, Wren,” Rick huffed before turning his eyes to the others, “and fuck you guys too! You’d rather have some old dude in the band to pass her around to fu—”

“Wait, what?” Wren snapped as her arms fell to her sides and her eyes narrowed in a fierce anger.

“Get the fuck out,” Nikki and Tommy snapped at the same time, each of them pointing toward the door with their eyes fixated on their now ex-guitarist. Wren’s eyes danced between the two before she shook her head and decided to pester Tommy about it whenever she wasn’t outnumbered.

“Dude’s a piece of work,” Mick murmured to himself as he turned his attention to his instrument and studied his fret as if it was the first time, he’d seen a guitar. There wasn’t a doubt in Wren’s mind he was doing this to avoid meeting the awkward gaze of the obviously temperamental eyes of any of his new band mates.

“You can say that again,” Wren muttered as she gently placed a hand on Tommy’s shoulder to give him a thumbs up as she jutted her head in Mick’s direction.

“Hey, how old are you anyway, Mick?” Tommy then asked as genuine curiosity piqued his interest. His eyes had fallen over the man and lingered, allowing him to get a better look at Mick than he had before.

“Shut the fuck up, you fucking teenager,” Mick grunted without even looking Tommy in the eye, which earned a smug laugh from Nikki and Wren Out of instinct, she rested a reassuring hand on her friend’s back and pulled him into a light hug upon seeing the look of confused shock cross over his usually jubilant face “If you really need to know though,” Mick continued as he turned to face the rest of the band, “I’m old enough to know better than to waste my time fucking around with a bunch of rug monkeys. I’m paying child support and sleeping on park benches, so I need to know that you’re not pulling dick here, because I’m looking to go the distance.” Nikki and Tommy internalized the words Mick had spoken, their eyes taking in the man’s blasé and upfront disclosure, and perhaps, for the first time they came to the realization that they could be as good as they dreamed they’d be. “If that’s not you guys, don’t waste my fucking time.” Mick’s small, icy eyes locked onto Nikki’s before turning toward Tommy.

In usual Nikki fashion, completely unintimidated by anything or anyone, his momentarily somber face flicked up into a chuckle as he sighed, “I fucking love this weird little guy.” His comment earned an agreeing laugh from Tommy, but Wren remained still and silent. She stood between Tommy and Nikki, the full weight of Mick’s words stretching over her chest as she let her own cold eyes linger over Mick’s posture. At first the older of the group had rolled his eyes, most likely coming to the conclusion that the men before him were a bunch of naïve shits when it came to the difficulty of the industry, but upon seeing the determined and focused young woman hidden behind the two terrors, his gut wretched in realization that this—whatever this group would become—would only make it if they had her.

“What is it that you do here, sweetheart?” Mick asked as his eyes continued to look past the two boys before him.

“Keep these two in check, make adjustments to their sound, odds and ends shit, you know?” Wren tried to keep her voice flat and uninterested in the conversation, because it was a question that made her uncomfortable. She wanted to be more important than she made herself out to be, and whenever Tommy spoke about her, she seemed to be important to the forming band, but she had her doubts. After all, what would happen to her when they made it big and had a real manager?

“So no instrument skills, vocals, nothing?” Mick asked, his voice still straightforward and curt, but Wren didn’t take it to be as harsh as Tommy seemed to.

“She sings,” Tommy quickly spoke in an attempt to defend Wrens worth. “She also plays saxophone, and has the most finely tuned ear for music and the scene.” To Wren’s eyes, Mick seemed convinced, but the boys were still hesitant to believe he thought of her as anything other than an early groupie.

“She recruited your ass,” Nikki’s voice sputtered as he took a swig of his freshly opened second bottle of beer.

“You sing for us?” Mick questioned, completely ignoring the remainder of Tommy’s comment as well as Nikki completely. “Rock? Metal?” Wren re-positioned her jaw by dropping it slightly and poking her chin forward all while keeping her lips sealed.

“These two fuckheads haven’t heard me sing, and you probably won’t either,” Wren stated sharply and Mick figured he’d struck a chord. With an unspoken prompting that Wren respected on Mick’s part, she continued. “I was trained in classical from the second I could talk, I taught Tommy how to play piano when we were fourteen, I’ve been playing sax for as long as I can remember, and the odds of anyone hearing anything from me musically are slim to fucking none.”

“May I ask why?” Mick questioned boldly, something Tommy had never tried to do—he figured Wren would come around one day—and something Nikki had never thought of doing—to him, if someone has baggage they don’t want to unpack, they should keep that shit zipped up.

“Because no one gives a fuck about what I do anyway; good or bad, no one fucking cares,” Wren huffed as she slipped her fingers around the neck of Nikki’s beer and twisted up her insides with the amber liquid. Tommy’s face fell at his friend’s words and he gnawed at the inside of his lips anxiously and filled with shame. Nikki could feel his heart sinking into the despair he knew as a child as he came to the same realization Wren had spoken, only he would never be bold enough to voice his fears. “But you guys have a shot,” Wren added sternly through the solemn atmosphere she’d created.

“Well then, if you refuse to do it, does someone mind telling me who does the singing in this band?” Mick asked as Nikki and Tommy made their way to the tattered old couch Wren always assumed Nikki had taken from the side of some road. Mick leaned against his amplifier, his eyes looking from the boys to Wren and back, and Wren lowered herself into the seat behind Tommy’s trap set.

“We need someone who looks like David Lee Roth with the vibe of fucking Bowie,” Nikki commented as he popped the top off another beer since Wren had finished off the one he’d opened for himself moments earlier. “And I’m not about to settle for some regular looking, random fucking asshole.” She thought on his comment for a long moment and realized that Nikki had a pretty good idea of what he wanted this band to be. She figured, on his own judgement, they could survive without her and that sinking feeling of never being good enough settled in the pit of her stomach. Wren swallowed hard and then jumped to grab herself another beer, holding high hopes it would help wash away her feelings of inadequacy.

“So,” Mick sighed as he took a sip from his beer, “we’re looking for a skinny blonde fucker with moves.” Wren already had a few potential candidates in mind and had been weighing their Roth, Bowie factor when Mick so eloquently narrowed down the search for her.

“Tommy,” she called out upon reentering the living room, her voice full of an excitement she didn’t expect to revisit today. There was a danger in how involved she had become with this band. It gave her joy and a sense of accomplishment to help form this crew of misfits, and she loved every moment spent with them with her whole being. It killed her to think that one day, she would be obsolete to them, that no one she’d helped bring together would feel they had any use for her anymore and drop her after using her to get a head in the game…as if she were just some early groupie.

“Wren,” he mimicked in the same tone she’d used.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Am I?” he questioned as Wren’s long strides finally made it to the couch and she wedged herself beside Tommy with almost no regards to Nikki’s presence other than the fact that she was practically sitting on his lap until he moved over.

“They’re talking about drawing a crowd—appealing to every demographic. Anyone with half a sense of rhythm will come for the music, you’ve got dark brooding talent over there to appeal to a slightly older age group,” Wren specified as she jutted a finger toward Mick, “angst, aggression, and anger over here for the anarchist,” she again said then pointed over her shoulder at Nikki, “and a kid drummer to pull in the younger crowd. Now think about it, what demographic is missing?”

“Fuck, chicks!” Tommy huffed.

“And as good looking of a bunch as you are, Nikki and Mick aren’t ones for friendly faces and you’re hiding in the back; so, what blonde fucker do we both know who pulls chicks like no one we’ve ever met?” Not even a second ticked past before Tommy’s face lit up in realization.

“Do you think he’ll do it?” Tommy questioned as both he and Wren zoned out and focused solely on their conversation, subsequently forgetting everyone else in the room.

“Who?” Nikki’s question was a muffled puff of air over Wren’s shoulder as her attention remained fixated on her best friend.

“He’s got big dreams and I’m pretty sure Rock Candy isn’t going anywhere; per Mick’s astute observation, shitty name, shitty band.” Wren continued.

“Are you okay with it?” Tommy’s next question confused Wren and he immediately recognized her muddled expression. “I mean, there’s always been competition between you two.”

“Even if I sang publicly, do you really think I’d bring in as huge of a female following as him?”

“I can think of a couple ways you might be able to,” Nikki said under his breath as he assumed they would continue to tune him out.

“Kinky, Sixx, but I’ll stick with my current type,” Wren said as she turned her face to where only Nikki would see the short wink she flashed him. Suddenly she was all too aware of their proximity to one another on the couch. She had her body positioned so that her shoulders were squared with Tommy’s, her hips were resting sideways on the couch with her legs stretched out across the floor. She tried not to think about the fact that her ass was pressed up against Nikki’s leg, but upon this realization, she couldn’t ignore even the slightest movement of his legs against her rear. “Well, if we’re thinking about the same person and you’re cool with it,” Tommy clarifies once again with Wren, “then I think I know our guy, dudes.”

Continue Reading: Next Chapter

[lord-explosion-baku]

Bakugou x reader

Warnings: ANGST, suicidal thought mention, lots of that kinda talk, more angst, kinda fluff

A/N: I wasn’t sure how to go about this. I wasn’t particularly sure what you wanted from this request but I hope it helped? I changed it up a bit for like... context reasons. Note that at first Bakugou doesn’t react the way that people should react when hearing this kind of news but it is how a lot of people act regardless. National Suicide Hotline: 1-800-273-8255. No matter what the reason if you are having suicidal thoughts, you should tell a trusted adult. Don’t keep something like that a secret.

Bakugou’s eyes finally snapped open after fifteen seconds of hearing that infernal morning ringtone you had. He reached over your sleeping body and snatched your hellphone off the side table and read the label, ‘pick up Kiyomi,’ before silencing the alarm.

Odd. Bakugou didn’t know a Kiyomi. Why would you be picking her up? You hadn’t mentioned having to get anyone at all…

Bakugou hovered over your warm body for a moment longer. Your lids fell heavy over your eyes, blanketing your dreams by being interrupted from the outside worlds, and your mouth was curled into a small smile. You looked so peaceful… so cute. Bakugou was incredibly grateful for any night you were able to stay in his bed but he loved the mornings even more. He liked waking up before you so he could see you like this; and that blasted alarm clock almost ruined that for him.

A small squeak escaped your throat and your sleepy eyes fluttered open to meet Bakugou’s. Bakugou felt his chest tighten and his face heat up when your lips curled into a grin and you whispered, “g’morning Katsuki…”

So. fucking. cute.

“That damn alarm of yours woke me up,” his low croaky morning voice probably sounded more hostile than he wanted but it didn’t matter. You had accepted that part of him and he loved you even more for it.

“Mmmm,” your light fingers tiptoed up his arm before reaching around his back to pull you closer. Bakugou rested his head on your chest and relaxed his body against the warmth of yours. You were his paradise.

“‘m sorry baby,” you said, “that’s my alarm for work. I forgot to turn it off before bed. I had been a bit… preoccupied.”

That might’ve been an understatement. Bakugou made it a goal to make sure that when he had you to himself, you could only think about him. He couldn’t blame you for forgetting something as mundane as an alarm clock, even if it went off an hour before he usually got out of bed.

“Who’s Kiyomi?”

“Kiyomi??” You looked at him as if he was a mad man spouting nonsense.

Bakugou rolled his eyes. “The alarm said you have to pick Kiyomi up. I didn’t think you had any plans today.”

You let out a yawn and rub your eyes, squirming farther down the bed so your feet could get warmer and Bakugou could get closer. “Right,” you finally realized what he was talking about. “Kiyomi is a friend who lives overseas. I set that alarm months ago for when she needed me to pick her up from the airport. I guess I started using that alarm to get up in the morning.”

“Shouldn’t you change it to something different now?”

You laughed, “to what? ‘Get your lazy ass out of bed’?”

“Tss!” He grabbed you and rolled over onto his back, pulling you on top of him. “You don’t have a lazy ass,” he said while his hands slid down your backside. “You have a fine ass.” To prove his point, he gave your bottom a smack.

“Katsuki!” You buried your red face deep into the crook of his neck, your breathy laughter sending a jubilant wave of prickles down his body. “Sometimes I have a lazy ass. I feel like I could spend entire days in bed; nothing to worry about, just warmth and dreams.”

“If you’re dreaming all damn day then you won’t be able to spend any time with me.”

“That’s not true,” your cheek brushed up against his ear while you turned your face towards him. “Don’t you know that you’re in all of my good dreams?”

Bakugou felt another pang in his chest. He loved you so goddamn much. “Liar.”

“S’not a lie. Dream Bakugou makes it harder to wake up.”

“Yeah well I’m the real deal so hopefully I can make it easier to live in reality. C’mon,” he sat up, “let’s get breakfast.”

“Nooo,” You whined, falling back into the bed. “It’s so early! Can’t we lay here a bit longer?”

“I don’t think so, princess. I’m wide awake because of you and I don’t think I can trust you with that dream Bakugou guy.”

“Just five more minutes, Katsuki, pleeease?”

Bakugou scowled at your pouting lips before bowing his head down and planting a sweet peck on them. “If you’re not up in ten, I’m carrying you out of this bed.”

You grinned back at him. “Promise?”

He kissed you again. “Don’t be cute.”

Bakugou had actually let you sleep in for thirty more minutes before carrying you out and into his kitchen. He had already prepared you some tea and fruit for you to eat and was about to put a quiche pie into the oven. You had told him about the french dish awhile ago and he’s been wanting to make it for you ever since, making sure to add in some cayenne pepper to make it his. He asked you to set and alarm for forty minutes and you absentmindedly scrolled through your set of alarms and chose one that was already set for forty minutes in the future.

The time spent waiting for the quiche was time spent, laughing and throwing grapes at one another which eventually lead to a battle that Bakugou had to win, showing his victorious authority but pushing you up on top the kitchen counter and wedging between you, holding you close, kissing your neck and shoulders, showing you that he could make you feel all kinds of things that bastard Dream Bakugou couldn’t. When his daring fingers met the hem of your pajama pants, the terrible song you had for your alarm finally went off.

You smirked down at him. “Wouldn’t want to burn our meal, would we?”

He glared back at you, grabbing your chin, he playfully bit down on your bottom lip. “This isn’t over.”

You slipped down from the counter and fetched the quiche out of the oven, leaving your alarm to play in a continuous loop. Bakugou grabbed your vibrating phone and switched the alarm off but not before he read what it said.

“Y/N…” he whispered.

“This smells delicious Katsuki!” You chirped back, placing the dish on the the stove to cool off. “It looks so fluffy.”

“What the hell does this mean?”

“I don’t know… isn’t it supposed to be fluffy when it comes right out of the oven? It’s still hot so I’m sure it’ll go down when it’s cooled off?”

“Y/N!” He barked and you jumped. He didn’t mean to frighten you but Bakugou a tension grow in his back. The alarm… your alarm didn’t make sense to him.

“‘Maybe don’t kill yourself today’?” He read aloud. He thrust your phone in your face and you gingerly took it back. Slowly your brows knitted together in understanding.

“Oh.”

“What does that mean, Y/N?!”

“It’s… well it’s nothing now. Another old alarm. I don’t even know when I made it.” Bakugou said nothing back. He couldn’t. He needed a better explanation. You took in a long breath before setting your phone down. “I just… used to feel… sad, I guess. And maybe sad isn’t the best word. I don’t know, babe. It was just like a special message for me to keep going. I made it a long time ago and haven’t changed it, like the ‘Kiyomi’ thing. Ha… I’ve had this phone for a long time, huh?”

“Don’t change the subject,” Bakugou murmured, letting his voice crack only slightly.

“Baby,” You cooed, reaching out to him. He took your hand and pulled it against his bare chest. You were so warm. He couldn’t imagine your touch… your hands… not being warm anymore. “Listen, I’m here. I’m fine.”

“You’re just fine?”

“Well yeah but I don’t mean-,”

“When did you make it?” He cut you off, his mind whirling, trying to find memories or any signs or tells that you were depressed. It was aggravating. He couldn’t see it. He didn’t know.

“I told you, I don’t remember.”

“Was I in your life when you made it,” Bakugou’s adam’s apple bobbed while he grit his teeth, “did you know me?”

“Katsuki…”

“Because what kind of boyfriend would I be if I just let you feel this way. I thought… I thought that we were good together.”

“Bakugou! It has nothing to do with you! I’m happy when I’m with you and I’m fine most of the time but sometimes I just let these weird feelings creep in on me, okay? I don’t think I’m ever going to act on them but sometimes I just… ! I just don’t want to exist!”

“What?” Bakugou couldn’t help it. He was shaking. “So you still feel this way?”

“I’m sorry but why do I feel like I’m in trouble here? Katsuki, things like this don’t just disappear. It’s an ugly black goo monster that latches on to people and they have to live with it and there’s nothing that I or anyone else can do about it!”

“Nothing you can do? You can start with telling me about how you feel! I feel like a goddamn idiot not knowing that the person I love more than anything in this world wants to kill themselves!”

“Well, I don’t want to kill myself! That’s why I made that alarm in the first place! And sorry but it’s not always such an easy thing to talk about! You’d get annoyed with me if I told you all about how sad I am a lot of the time!”

“Annoyed with you? Y/N-,” he seethed, “I get annoyed when you steal the good blankets and when that damn song plays whenever your alarms go off but I still love you regardless. Talking about shit like this what you’re supposed to do in loving, trusting relationships!” He brushed a hand through his hair. “Maybe… you don’t trust me. Or maybe I don’t say all the nice things I think to say to you but-! Fuck, Y/N, I don’t want you to be scared of talking to me. If I can’t… make sure that everything in your life is okay all the time, I’d at least want to help you with that…”

“Again, Katsuki. It’s not about you. And I have talked about it with other people before… and they all say the same things; I should just cheer up or stop thinking about it. After awhile I kinda realized I was being a burden. And I don’t want to be a burden to you.”

“Fuck everyone else, you are not a burden to me! Not ever! And I’d rather have you talk to me a hundred thousand times before you feel alone in this. I’d rather have you scream at the top of your lungs at me then… not have you at all. Y/N, I can’t… imagine my life without you. If you were to disappear… like that… my entire world would be shattered. F-fuck!”

“Kat-!” Before you could finish saying his name he wrapped his arms around you. Tears that burned his eyes fell from his cheek and into your hair. He could feel his own chest getting wet from your eyes. They were hot, like you. Warm.

“Please talk to me,” his voice was muffled by your hair. “I want to hear it. Whenever. Whenever you get these feelings I want you to call me and I’ll ask if you want to talk about them and if you don’t, I’ll find a way to distract you. I know I’m a fucking asshole sometimes but I want to be there for you, do you understand? Just please don’t think that you’re alone in this.”

“Okay, Katsuki. I will.”

“Promise me.”

“... I promise.”

He held you for a long time. The quiche cooled down but neither of you cared. All that mattered was that you were in Bakugou’s arms. You were safe. He’d always keep you safe.

Finally you pulled away and wiped your cheeks. You cupped Bakugou’s face wipes away his own tears with your thumb. “I’m sorry I upset you, Katsuki.”

“Don’t apologize. Just know that if anything ever happened to you I’d have to kill the grim reaper to bring you back… Have you thought about… going to therapy? Or maybe going on antidepressants?”

“I have… but I don’t know if I want to do that yet. I really am okay most of the time. But if things get serious, you’ll be the first to know.”

“Good,” he sniffed and cleared his throat. “Can I have your phone?”

“Why?”

“I gotta change some of your alarm messages.”

The rest of the day went well. You smiled a lot and enjoyed the quiche though you challenged Bakugou, saying that you could probably make a better one. The two of you went on a short hike and enjoyed the refreshing air. He watched you climb up on rocks and laugh and sing, granted terribly, but he loved it and he loved you. He had to keep his eyes on you. He loved keeping his eyes on you. After that day, something changed for Bakugou. While he watched you, he couldn’t help but worry that he might not ever see you again. So he watched. And he savored. And he loved.

The next morning you woke up to Bakugou’s second favorite song. The message for your alarm said, ‘wake up, gorgeous.’ It was simple but it made you smile. By the time you got to your fridge and closed it, thinking that nothing really appealed to you, you got another alarm. ‘If you don’t eat your breakfast, you’ll never be able to beat king Bakugou in a sparring match.’ That was oddly inspiring. Bakugou always knew how to channel your competitive side. Throughout the day other alarms went off with silly messages like ‘daydreaming about your boyfriend again?’ And ‘he’s thinking about you.’ But the ones that really struck you were the ones that said ‘you’re so strong. you’re doing great.’ Bakugou had never been great with words but it really meant a lot to you that he had set those messages up just for you. You were incredibly thankful for him.

You couldn’t see Bakugou that night but you made sure to call him before going to bed. He was soft on the phone. You made a point to point out to him that you weren’t fragile and he made a point to point out to you that he already knew. He’d seen you in bed. After you ended the call with your face a blushing mess you got another alarm.

‘Sleep is the best medicine. Lay that pretty head to rest.’ And only one minute later, ‘if Dream Bakugou lays a finger on you, I’ll kick his ass <3’

Tags for EVERYTHING (closed): @yandere-inamorata @miitaart @dessiedawnwritesfanfiction @wickedlewicked @chickennuggetsarequestionable @nevermorelanore @kpanime @ayeputita @captain-sin-allmight-queen @diisasterbii @iceformer @meganofmars @colagirl5 @colorbookshd @grimmjadeskye @sm0kingcrack @sarcastictextstuck @zellllyyyy @psionicsnow @mynahx3 @andie-in-tumblland @iamthe-leaf @midnightfeline666 @bungou-stray-alies-tales-of-aly -of-aly @rubyred-imagines 28 @kattariapenn @heypartypeps @quirktaker @thecryingsombra @smbody-stole-mycar-radio @ghost-of-todoroki @geektastic84 @davalia @glixeo @rubycubix @mekakushi-dan-01-kido

[le-petitmort]

Part III – She, with the smartass sorcery

With great uncertainty must come greater courage. I think that might be a famous quote or maybe not. Either way I am dealing with a bit of uncertainty as it applies to the comely Miss Tuesday. Case in point, in my jubilation over the mutual agreement on being incommunicado during working hours I never asked the important question…what fucking hours do you work?

I mean, I know she goes to her job doing whatever she does, promptly at eight in the morning. Does she then work a traditional eight hour day…a ten hour day…is there mandatory overtime involved…business dinners?  There is only one question looming in my mind. When do I get back in touch with this dazzling beauty? Because I’m not putting it off any longer than absolutely necessary.

Then again, I have shit to do myself. Really important shit like watch a Chicago Cubs day game, two NBA playoff games, and a full slate of evening baseball. Very important things. My things. So, I analyzed the situation and made a calculated decision. I rang her promptly at six in the evening. Immediately I knew I had made the correct decision.

“Hello, Stephen, with a P.” Tuesday’s voice dripped through the phone, sugary like maple syrup.

Quickly, I fired back. “Hello Tuesday…with a T and A.” Whoops. Did I take that a little far? Maybe not, she gave a girlish giggle. Which was alright, but I was, for some inexplicable reason, a bit perturbed and wanted to be forthcoming with one simple request. “Can we stop with the Stephen with P please? It’s rather…I don’t know…condescending.”

Tuesday blurted a laugh. “No Sir! We shall not stop with the Stephen with a P. I particularly like Stephen with a P.” She kept rolling with it. “Stephen with a P is cute. The way you clarified your name for me Stephen with a P. Making sure I never confused you with a Steven with a V or a plain old Steve or a Stevie or Steph…Stephon.”

“Are you drinking?”

“Maybe.”

“That would be a yes.”

“I’m at a business mixer Stevie. What else would I be doing?”

“So, you’re still on the clock?”

“In a manner of speaking. Yes, I am.” Tuesday paused. “But, I’d rather be talking to you. Since this is really boring and I’m basically being ignored.”

“Baby’s been put in the corner, huh?”

“Steve-O, are you a Dirty Dancing fan? I might need to reassess you.”

“No, I’m a pop culture fan. It helps with not needing to be inventive with what I say. People get that shit.”

“Not inventive? That’s not a checkmark Stephen.”

Wow, you got my name right.”

Tuesday chortled. “There’s a first time for everything.”

“Let’s keep it that way.”

“Maybe…maybe not.”

“How many drinks have you had? You’re a little saucy with the repartee. I’d call it witty repartee…but, nah, it’s more like smartassery.”

“Smartassery?” She mocked. “Is that like smartass sorcery? Because that would be awesomesauce.”

“I’ll bet that mouth gets you in a lot of trouble. How much have you had to drink?”

“I may or may not be on my fourth Cabernet?”

“At a work function?”

“I told you I was bored and it’s not like I’m not doing exactly what everyone else is doing here. With the exception being, I’m not parading around like a pompous ass. That’s my boss’s job.”

“You sound a little bitter. Exactly what do you do for a living Tuesday?”

“I’m the assistant for an art dealer.”

“Oh. You’re one of those girls that walks two steps behind keeping track of his schedule.”

“Who said he’s a he. Maybe she’s a she…” Tuesday seemed a little riled. “…and I take offense to that description of my job. I basically run the business.”

“You clearly stated…pompous ass. Everyone knows that’s a man. If you worked for a woman, she would have been a raving bitch…or something to that effect.”

“Point taken Sir…and you are correct. He is a he.”

“You certainly like saying Sir. Almost as much as Stephen with a P.”

“Well…blame that on my good southern upbringing.”

“I do have an appreciation for manners. At least you have some…when not engaged in smartassery.”

“There you go with that word again, Stephen.”

“There you go with the manners. You abided with the request to drop the Stephen with a P.”

“The dude abides.”

“Nice pop culture reference.”

“Huge fan of The Big Lebowski. I always dreamed of being Maude Lebowski.” Tuesday’s voice turned posh, quoting straight from the movie. “It's a male myth about feminists that we hate sex. It can be a natural, zesty enterprise. But unfortunately there are some people - it is called satyriasis in men, nymphomania in women - who engage in it compulsively and without joy. Yes, Mr. Lebowski, these unfortunate souls cannot love in the true sense of the word.”

“Oh sweet Jesus.” I streamed a long breath. “You’re like a dream come true.”

“Or maybe I’m just weird.”

“Weird can be good in appropriate doses.”

Tuesday changed the subject. “So what are you doing later Stephen?”

Interesting. Was she angling for a hookup? “Working.”

“What in the world do you do? Are you a bartender? A waiter? Please don’t be a waiter. A male escort?”

“None of the above.” How exactly do I explain my choice in careers, which was more of an avocation in the eyes of most? “I’m an analyst.”

“What do you analyze day and night.”

“Numbers. Trends.”

“Please say you’re not a Wall Street guy, Stephen with a P. I can’t deal with that.”

“Um…I was. Once. For like six months. Couldn’t stand a minute of it. So now I do my own thing.”

“Enough already. Explain. What’s…” I could almost envision her dainty figures lifting to make air quote, “…your own thing.”

“You want the short answer or the long answer?”

“Just an answer, Mister mysterious. Gawd, are you CIA or something?”

“Oh, hell no. I’m not into overthrowing banana republics in the name of freedom.”

“That’s not an answer. Answer the question. What. Do. You. Do?”

“Can I give the long answer?”

“Just give me an answer before I hang up and never speak to you again.”

“Ok…”

“Waiting. Stephen, with a P.” I could imagine Tuesday tapping her toe impatiently for effect.

“Fine, I have a masters degree in applied analytics. But, I couldn’t stand working in an office. All the mundane day in, day out bullshit. So, I went out on my own. Doing something I like.”

“That doesn’t really give me an answer. Sounds like you’re a day trader who dabbles in foreign markets. That’s literally worse than being a Wall Street guy.”

“I dabble in sports.”

“What does that even mean?”

“Essentially…I’m a gambler.”

“That’s not a real job Stephen.” Tuesday chided.

“I live more than comfortably.”

“May I ask what more than comfortably means? A girl needs to know these things. I don’t want to deal with a guy who is going to be asking for money down the road because he lost a hundred bucks on the Jets game.”

“I don’t wager on pro football. Strictly basketball and baseball.”

“Semantics Stephen. Do you make a living? Or are you living day to day so you don’t have to have a real job?”

That pissed me right off. “It’s a very real job…Miss….what’s your last name?”

“It’s Mahan. Now answer the question and quit dodging.”

“I think you’re drunk.”

“I think…no I know…you’re dodging. What kind of living does Stephen….what’s your last name..make?

“It’s Jones.”

“What kind of living does Stephen Jones make?”

“Comfortable.”

Tuesday gave an exasperated laugh. “What does comfortable mean?”

“Ok, I own my loft.”

“Go on…”

“Where would you want to go this weekend. If you could go anywhere?”

“A beach.” She blurted out an addendum. “…and not the Jersey shore.”

“Ok, name a place with a beach you would want to go to this weekend. I’ll let you know if I can afford it.”

“Bali. I want Bali.”

“Fine.”

“Fine what?”

“I could fly you to Bali this weekend. I can afford that.”

“Excuse me?”

“This is all hypothetical. Yes, I could take you on an island vacation this weekend. Tell you to pack your bags, we’re going.”

“I call bullshit.”

“Do I need to show you my bank account. You asked for the truth of what I do and if it earned a living. I’m giving you truth.”

“So…we’re going to Bali?”

“Not after all your smartassery. We are, however, going to dinner.”

“I don’t get a choice in this?”

“Baby steps.”

“I like the sound of Bali better.”

“I like the sound of a quiet, late dinner on Friday night better.”

“Where?” She questioned.

“Not McDonalds, that’s for sure.”

“Better not be a sports bar so you can watch stupid ballgames out of the corner of your eye.”

“We’re going to go elegant.”

“Ohhh, I like elegant. Are we talking Cheesecake Factory?”

“You’re the only cheesecake involved. I’ll text you the details.”

Click.

[astharoshebarvon]

Winteriron AU

Pirates of the Caribbean  AU

Bucky/Tony

Part I : Here

“We are devils, we are black sheep, we are really bad...”

“I love this song,” Steve said with jubilation. He was in heaven. He had rum and a beauty by his side. Now, if he could only convince Bucky to do more with him. He pulled Bucky to him and they both fell on the sand in a tangle of limbs.

He was surprised when Bucky suggested they drink to their hearts content and start a bonfire.

“It must’ve been lonely for you Steve.”

Steve put a hand around Bucky’s shoulders, “Yes. But the company has definitely improved.”

Bucky saw where Steve’s hand was trying to go and raised an eyebrow.

“Mr Rogers, I don’t think I am drunk enough to allow that kind of talk.”

Steve smirked at Bucky. “I  know exactly what you mean love.”

 “What the black pearl really is Bucky ...”

Bucky gave Steve a disgusted look but let the man’s hand remain where it was. On his hip.

Steve woke to the sound of something burning. Smoke.

Steve was horrified by what he saw.

“No- no- no. Stop. You’ve burned all the food, the shade, the rum.”

Bucky threw another bottle in the fire.

“Yes, the rum is gone.”

Steve was feeling murderous. He wanted to strangle Barnes.

“Why is rum gone?”

Bucky turned to Steve. “First, it’s a vile drink which turns even the most respectable men into complete scoundrels. Two, that signal is over thousand feet high. The entire royal navy is looking for me...”

Steve really didn’t give a shit about what Bucky was saying.

“But, why is the rum gone?”

Bucky sat down on the sand and didn’t answer Steve.

“Give it an hour or two, Mr Rogers and you’ll see white sails on the horizon.”

Steve wanted to hit him. But he didn’t, instead he restrained himself and went on his way to the next island.

He did see white sails. He looked back to where Bucky was.

“There will be no living with him after this.”

 Bucky tried to fight off the officers but his efforts were in vain.

“We have to rescue Tony.”

Clint and Fury looked uncomfortable as Bucky didn’t stop shouting.

Fury sighed. “The boy’s fate is regrettable. But, so is his decision to engage in piracy.”

Bucky could not believe his dad. He kicked one of the men holding him and went straight to his father.

“To rescue me father. To prevent anything from happening to me.”

Clint was looking at Bucky solemnly. Steve was looking at everyone with amusement. Damn, Barnes really was in love with the brat. He looked at Clint and felt sympathy for him. The guy looked like he was minutes away from crying. Well, he could understand Barnes appeal.

Fury shook his head. “You are safe, that’s what matters to me son.”

Bucky steeled his heart and went to Clint.

“Clint, do this for me. As a wedding gift.”

Clint’s eyes widened as he heard Bucky. Fury looked as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard.

“You are accepting Clint’s proposal?”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, I am.”

Steve looked elated. “I love weddings, drinks all around.”

This should be good, Steve thought. Barnes was a bastard. He would play with this man’s feelings just so he could save his beloved. But he would have done the same if he was in Bucky’s position.

Too bad, he didn’t love anyone like that.

Clint came out of his reverie and looked at Steve. He had forgotten the infamous pirate was also with them. He directed his not so amused look at Steve.

Steve shrunk in on himself. “Yeah, I know, clap him in irons. Right?”

Clint sighed internally. He will agree. He knew it.

“Mr Rogers, you will accompany these fine gentlemen to the island of Isla du muerta. You will then spend the rest of the journey contemplating all possible meanings of the phrase, Silent as the grave.”

Clint gave Steve one of his looks. “Do I make myself clear Mr Rogers?”

Steve nodded eagerly. “Inescapably clear.”

Bucky kept on shouting at the men holding him.

“No-No, Rogers is lying. The pirates, they are cursed.”

Coulson smiled smugly at Bucky.

“Don’t worry Mr Barnes. A little mermaid came on the deck and told the crew the whole story.”

He locked Bucky in his room.

Bucky stamped his foot in frustration.

Bucky’s makeshift rope made up of curtains was almost done. Fury was outside his son’s room

“Bucky. I- I am happy you accepted Clint’s proposal. But a right decision made for the wrong reasons can become a wrong decision.”

Bucky tightened the knot. He wanted to shout at his father.

“You gave me no choice father. I will save Tony. No matter what.”

He climbed out.

When Bucky didn’t answer, Fury unlocked the door and closed his eyes when he saw no one but a rope made up of curtains hanging from the window.

“Son, what have you done?”

He looked at the sea with worry.

 Tony was sitting in the cell when he heard voices. He opened his eyes and saw the giant blonde and the short man from before.

The crew of the black pearl were in front of him in their cell. Most of them looked up as he called the two men.

“You knew my father?” Tony asked the blonde.

Thor who was doing rounds with Bruce looked at Tony and sighed a little.

“Yeah, we knew him. He was one of us. But he didn’t agree to betray Steve Rogers. Loki got angry because of that. After we marooned Steve on the island, we threw your father from the ship. He drowned and died. He became one of the many people who will never be able to move on. It was only later we learned he had sent a piece of the treasure with you.”

Tony felt like crying but he didn’t.

“What do you mean he can’t move on?”

It was Sam who answered him.

“You know a little about, Davy Jones? Don’t you?”

Tony nodded. Thor and Bruce did not interrupt Sam.

Sam looked at his wife who simply nodded. Natasha spoke then.

“People who are murdered at sea cannot move on. They are stuck in Davy Jones locker. You must know a little about it since you made that threat.”

Tony nodded slowly.

Another crew member came down and asked Thor and Bruce to bring Tony up.

The black pearl’s crew flinched when Thor and Bruce grabbed Tony roughly and dragged him to the deck.

Clint, Steve, Coulson and Clint’s men were waiting outside the cave for Loki when Steve again gave in his two cents.

He looked at Clint and smirked.

“Why don’t you let me go? You blast them with your cannons as they come out unawares.”

Clint shook his head. The man was so tiresome.

“No, we’ll go according to my plan.”

Steve shrugged but continued nonetheless. “Well, there is still a certain danger to those aboard the Dauntless.”

Clint removed Steve’s hand from his shoulder. “Nothing, I’d lament being rid of.”

Steve smirked. “Well, the future Mr Barton might be in danger.”

Clint’s eyes widened in horror as he remembered that Bucky was on the ship too.

Steve smirked as he paddled to the cave. Clint was so easy to manipulate.

Thor and Bruce tried to placate Tony as they lead him in the cave.

“Just a few drops of blood, lad. Nothing to be scared of.”

Rumlow pushed Bruce as he went on his way muttering darkly.

“He is only half Stark. We drain him dry.”

Tony closed his eyes but did not say anything. Thor and Bruce shrugged as they dragged Tony.

“Well, that is something to be scared of,” Thor said nonchalantly.

 Loki was again shouting about the blood to be repaid. Thor and Bruce were holding Tony above the chest by the neck.

Loki drew the knife again but before he could do anything his crew quietened. He looked to the place where they were staring and his eyes widened in horror. Captain Steve fucking Rogers was alive. Again.

“This is not possible.” Loki was equal parts horrified and amazed.

Steve pushed one of the crew member’s who was trying to stop him from going to Loki.

Thor and Bruce had released Tony and Tony was shocked to see Steve there.

“Where is Bucky?”

Steve really wanted to bang his head. Bucky and Tony were tiresome. Whenever they opened their mouth, it was to talk about the other. Maybe, that was true love.

“He is safe, just like I promised he would be. He is all set to marry Barton just like he promised. And, you get to die for him just like you promised. So, we are all men of our words Tony.” Steve smiled smugly at Tony.

Tony knew Steve was rubbish. This just proved it.

Loki was getting really irritated now.

“Shut up. You are next.”

One of the crew men grabbed Steve again but Steve simply kicked him.

He sauntered over to Loki and smirked at his ex-first mate.

“You really don’t want to be doing that.”

Loki was about to slice off Tony’s neck.

“No, I really think I do.”

Steve shrugged. “Your funeral.”

Loki took a deep breath. Yes, their mother always reminded them to take deep breaths when dealing with assholes.

He turned to Steve and pocketed the knife.

“Why don’t I want to be doing that?”

“Because the HMS dauntless, pride of the royal navy is just outside.”

The crew started shouting. Thor and Bruce looked ready to murder their own crew. Bruce had had enough with the loud noises.

Loki gave Steve a once over and then slowly walked towards him.

“I suppose you have a plan. And, you don’t want me to kill the whelp in exchange.”

Steve snorted. “Nah. Kill the whelp. Just not yet.”

Tony closed his eyes. He really was dispensable.

Loki and Steve came to a truce of sorts. Loki shook Steve’s hands as if Steve was beneath him. As if he didn’t want to touch him. Steve really wasn’t bothered by the look. Tony did notice Steve touching the treasure and he was sure Steve pocketed a piece of the treasure.

“You’ve been planning this. Ever since you learned my name.”

Steve waved his hand as if Tony was stupid. “Yeah, pretty much.”

The crew went to fight the navy.

Loki was eating another apple while looking at Steve who was going through the treasure.

“Well, I must say Steve, you are a hard man to predict.”

“Me? I am dishonest. And you can always count on a dishonest man to remain dishonest Loki. Honestly, it’s the honest ones you have to watch out for. Because you never know when they are going to do something incredibly stupid.”

With that Steve threw one of the swords at Tony. Tony kicked his captors and started fighting them.

Loki threw the fruit away and took his sword out. He knew the man was garbage.

Bucky reached the Black Pearl and freed the crew. He thought they would help him. Alas, he was wrong.

“Tony needs my help. We have to save him.”

The parrot of the crew, Vision, said some nonsense and Sam just shrugged.

“Vision is right. We have the pearl, Mr. Barnes. We don’t have to do anything.”

“You are pirates. Since when do you keep to the code? And, they are more like guidelines anyway.”

He could see Rocket, Virginia, Rhodey, Happy, Quill, Gamora wavering. But in the end not one of them stepped forward.

Bucky glared at the whole lot of them and went to save Tony by himself.

“Bloody pirates.” He kept on rowing with a single goal in mind. Save Tony.

 Steve was dodging Loki’s attacks. It was a good thing Thor and Bruce had decided to go see the Dauntless get dragged to the depths. That would’ve been tough. He knew what Thor was like. And when it came to his brother... Yeah no.

Steve tried to dodge the attack but Loki drove his sword through his stomach. He staggered but didn’t fall. Loki looked afraid for the first time.

“What have you done?”

Steve looked at his bony hand under the moonlight and sighed. Ah, geez. He really hated being a zombie.

“Couldn’t resist mate,” Steve said while showing the medallion to Loki.

That was the breaking point. Loki lunged after him. Steve pulled out Loki’s sword from his stomach...Eww and again started fighting him.

Tony was bewildered. Steve was….a zombie now. But he didn’t have time to think about Steve. His weird captors were back. One of them tried to hurt him and was babbling about some pain and shit.

Before he realised what had happened the man went flying in a heap of bones.

“I’ll show you pain, you asshole. Get away from Tony.”

Tony couldn’t believe his love was here.

“Bucky!!!”

Bucky came to Tony and smiled radiantly at him. He’d missed him. God, Tony was okay. But then he saw two zombies fighting each other and he really had to close and open his eyes twice to believe that, yes, it was Steve. Fighting Loki.

“Whose side Steve is on?”

Tony sighed. “At the moment?”

But they couldn’t talk. Stupid zombies came back.

Loki fell on the treasure and smirked at Steve.

“How long are we going to fight Rogers? We are immortals. Are we to fight until judgement day?”

“Or you could just surrender,” Steve suggested smugly.

Loki got up with even more ferocity. Steve knew it was time to stop.

Bruce and Thor were eating on their boat, watching the fight on dauntless. But Thor had a bad feeling. He wanted to get back to Loki. Something was wrong.

“We need to go back Bruce. I think Loki is not …we need to go.”

Bruce nodded. He knew it was useless to argue with Thor where Loki was concerned.

Bucky finished off the zombies.

Steve threw the medallion at Tony and Loki pointed his gun at Bucky. Bucky stopped dead in his tracks. Then he flinched as he heard the gunshot. He was sure it was Loki who had fired it... but it wasn’t.

Loki looked at Steve with disbelief. “Ten years you carried that pistol and now you waste your shot?”

“He didn’t waste it.”

Loki looked at Tony and saw the blood on the medallion. Then he looked at the cursed chest of Aztec gold.

He was about to fall when strong arms enveloped him. He thought he’d heard his brother’s voice a second before. Thor had been screaming.

Thor glared at Steve as he hugged his now dead brother.

“You’ll die for that Rogers. Mark my words.”

Steve looked back at Thor with equal venom.

Bruce sighed. Loki was dead. And if he and Thor didn’t move, they would be dead too. At least, they weren’t cursed anymore.

He placed a gentle hand on Thor’s shoulder. “We need to go Thor. We need to leave.”

Thor got up cradling his brother’s dead body. He glared at all of them before storming away from the cave.

 For a minute the three men didn’t speak. What Thor had said…had scared all of them.

 Then, Steve started gathering treasure. Thor and Loki…were complicated. He knew Thor would not do anything. He might curse Steve to hell and back but he wouldn’t try to kill him. It won’t bring Loki back.

Now, that was the real question.

If it were possible, Steve had no qualms in admitting Thor would have happily killed all of them. Loki might have been the captain but it was Thor who was the strongest among the crew. Hell, Steve was sure he could take on anyone without his sword too. He would be the winner.

He went to Tony and Bucky who were now avoiding looking at each other. Bucky noticed Steve and glanced at the cave opening.

“We should return to the… Dauntless.”

Tony wanted to smack himself. Of course, Bucky had a fiancé now.

“Right. Right. Mr Barton must be worried.”

Tony knew he was minutes away from crying.

Bucky hesitantly looked at Tony and what he saw on his love’s face made him feel like dirt. He’d hurt Tony.

He stormed out of the cave.

Steve who was standing with a gold crown on his head ruffled Tony’s hair.

“If you were looking for an opportune moment lad, that was it.”

Tony just sighed and walked with Steve to the entrance.

“And, I’ll be grateful, if you could drop me off my ship.”

The three did go where the Black pearl was supposed to be. Only, it wasn’t there.

“I am sorry Steve,” Bucky said genuinely. He really did feel bad for the man.

Steve looked…resigned and disgusted.

“They’ve done what’s right by them. Can’t expect anything more.”

 “This is wrong father,” Bucky said with anger. He could not believe they were about to execute Steve.

Fury shook his head. “My hands are tied son. So are Clint’s.”

Clint resolutely did not look in his fiancé’s direction.

Before they could say anything else on the topic, Tony came in front of them. He bowed to all three of them then he looked at Bucky.

“I should have told you from the moment I met you Bucky. I love you.”

Clint closed his eyes while Fury just sighed. Next thing they knew, Tony had caused an uproar. He was trying to free Steve.

Bucky kept on looking at Tony. He knew what he had to do. He was sorry for hurting Clint. But he knew he and Clint would be miserable together. He only loved Tony. And he would love Tony until he turned to dust. He knew Tony felt the same. His love was a brave man.

The guards captured Tony and Steve.

Fury came in front of them and shouted at Tony.

“When we came back, I forgave you for everything. And, this is how you thank me? By throwing in your lot with him? He’s a pirate.”

“And a good man, Mr Fury,” Tony said with his head held high.

“I’ve done what I felt was the right thing to do, if I die today too… So be it. At least my conscience will be clear.”

Clint came to stand beside Fury then.

“You forget your place Stark.”

Tony did not back down. “It’s right here, between you and Steve.”

Bucky knew it was enough. He slowly walked to Tony and gently took his hand in his. In front of everyone, he kissed his callused hand. It was so soft.

“As is mine, my love.”

He looked at his father and Clint and felt immense guilty as he registered the look of utter heartbreak on Clint’s face.

“Lower your weapons. Goddammit, put them down.” Fury shouted at the guards.

Clint didn’t know what to say. He knew this was the case. He always knew. He smiled sadly as he looked at Tony and Bucky.

“So, this is where your heart truly lies?”

“Yes, it is,” Bucky said without any hesitation.

Steve was shocked. Bucky had completely broken the commodore. The father was a different case altogether.

But he had to commend Bucky too. He really was loyal to Tony. Well, he was saved. That’s what mattered. Before Steve could say anything he heard it. The voice of Vision. His crew’s parrot. And, there he was. So, Sam, Natasha, Gamora and Quill did come for him. Damn.

“Well, we have arrived at a very special place. Don’t you think?”

Fury looked disgusted with him. Steve went to Clint and whispered in the blonde’s ears.

“I was rooting for you mate. Know that.”

Clint looked creeped out as he heard Steve.

Steve looked at Bucky and sighed “Bucky, it would have never worked between us darling. I am sorry.”

Bucky was speechless. He had no idea what Steve was talking about. There was nothing between him and Steve.

Steve looked at Tony and smirked. “Tony, nice hat.”

Tony just smiled good naturedly at him.

“You’ll always remember this day as the day, you almost caught Captain Steve...”

And Steve fell into the ocean.

“Idiot, he has nowhere to go but back to the noose, “Gillet said while grinning. But then they all saw a ship with black sails and Steve swimming towards it.

Coulson and Gillet looked at Clint for orders.

“Sir? What should we do?”

Fury sighed. “Sometimes, piracy itself can be a right course.”

Coulson smiled a little while Gillet looked confused.

Clint smiled to himself and stepped down.

“Mr Stark.”

Bucky tightened his grip on Tony’s hand in his.

“No, I won’t let you go. I’ll die with you.”

Tony shook his head. “I’ll take the consequences of my actions Bucky.”

Bucky shook his head. “No. No...”

Clint came in front of Tony and pulled out his sword. The sword Tony had made. Clint knew when to give up.

“This is a beautiful sword Mr Stark. I would expect the man who made it to show same care and devotion in every aspect of his life.”

Tony couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Clint looked….defeated. Not angry.

“Yes, I will.”

Clint nodded at Tony and Bucky and turned to go. Coulson and Gillet stopped him again.

“What about Rogers?” Gillet asked while looking at the ocean.

Clint smirked, “well, I suppose we can give him one day’s head start.”

Clint and his entourage left then.

Fury looked at his son and Tony and sighed. He knew they liked each other. But he didn’t know to this degree. Well, Bucky was happy with Tony. In the end, wasn’t that the most important thing.

“So, this is the path you’ve chosen?”

Both Bucky and Tony turned to Fury.

“After all, he is a blacksmith.”

Bucky smiled at his father.

“No, he is a pirate.”

With that Bucky pulled Tony in for a kiss. Fury looked at them for a minute then sighed. They were happy. That’s all he had  ever wanted for Bucky.

Bucky continued to kiss Tony with everything he had. He’d always wanted Tony. Now he had him.

Tony couldn’t believe he was kissing his love. When they stopped Bucky gently pressed their foreheads together.

“We’ll always be together sweetheart. Always. You have no idea how much I love you Tony.”

Tony nodded with tears in his eyes. Bucky wiped them gently and hugged Tony. He didn’t let go. He will never let go.

Sam and Natasha threw a rope for Steve and Steve landed with a thud and looked at his crew.

“Thought you were supposed to keep to the code?

Sam smirked at his friend. “We figured they were more like guidelines.”

Natasha and Virginia helped Steve up. Guardians came and clapped him on the back.

He touched his ship reverently and noticed everyone was looking fondly at him. He shook his head.

“Alright, back to work, you fools.”

He pulled out his compass and smirked.

“Now, bring me that horizon.”

“Drink up me hearties yo-ho…”

 Bonus

Bruce didn’t know how to help Thor. Thor kept on crying for his brother but Loki wouldn’t open his eyes.

“Thor, you need to stop.”

Thor shook his head. “NO. NO. He can’t be dead. I need him back. We were wrong. We’ve done terrible things but I –I need him back. He has to come back…”

As soon as the words left Thor’s mouth, he stiffened.

Yes, Loki could come back. He has to. He was one of the nine pirate lords. Calypso could bring him back. She had to. If she wanted to be free.

“We are going Bruce.”

Bruce looked confused. “Going where?”

Thor smirked as he got up and gently laid Loki down, “to Tia Dalma’s place.”

Bruce scrunched his face in confusion. “The witch.”

Thor shook his head. “She is not a witch Bruce. She is the goddess, Calypso. Bound in human form. She is the only one who can revive Loki. And she will. If she ever wants to return to her original self.”

Thor got up and started preparing for their journey upriver. They didn’t have time to lose. They had to be fast.

Bruce was looking at Thor with dread now. There was a manic glint in Thor’s eye now. He’d lost his right eye to his elder sister, Hela, long time back. Bruce knew Thor will bring Loki back. No matter what the price.

Tia Dalma was not amused with Thor’s tone.

“Lower your voice Thor Odinson. You are in no position to bargain.”

Thor smirked and caressed his sword lovingly.

“Oh? But I am. Without my brother, you will never be free, goddess.”

Tia Dalma flinched but didn’t say anything. She looked at Loki’s pale form and sighed. She has to preserve his body first with her spells.

She sighed again.

“You win Thor, but it will not be easy,” she said. She went further inside her hut to take out her book of spells.

“I’ll preserve his body. Then, I will revive him.”

Thor lost his balance and fell down as he heard that. He covered his face with his hands as tears overflowed from his left eye. His brother will come back.

Bruce smiled tiredly at his friend and even Tia Dalma cracked a smile. He was Thor’s little brother after all. For all their misdeeds, they truly cared for each other.

“Let’s begin, shall we?”

She started chanting and a blue light engulfed Loki’s body.

Okay, if I had waited a little longer it would have been a year since I updated. But, it’s done now. I was smiling the whole time while writing this.

Now, let’s move on to dead man’s chest and at the world’s end.

[asktemmie-frisk]

An Acceptable Redemption (ゴッドモードアーク (Goddomodoaku)) (God-mode Arc)

They all sat around Frisk mourning him for about 10 minutes. Then, they heard a voice from the shadows. "Well, well, well." It said. Everyone looked in fear and curiousity. "Who said that?" Chara demanded. "I said that." Rhonda answered, stepping out of the shadows. "You bitch. Frisk is dead. You took him away from us! We loved him, and now he's gone." Chara showed her creepy face with every last negative emotion there was to have. "Talrok and I never killed him. All we did was simply show his true potential to the world. And besides, you all...wait. Are you actually telling me you all miss him?" Everyone looked down in shame. "Interesting. You all want to bring him back. You want bring him back to the life you destroyed. It was you guys who pushed him to his edge. It was you who led to his self-destruction. Ah, now I understand. You all can't accept it. All of you think you're above consequences." They all made a slight nod in confirmation. "All right, I'll admit it. I did think I was above consequences." Asriel confessed. "Yeah. So did I." Chara admitted. "Exactly. But perhaps, we can reach...a compromise of sorts. For you see, Chara, you still have something Talrok and I want. Give it to us, and we will bring Frisk back from the abyss." Everyone stood up and backed away from Rhonda in fear, leaving Frisk's body. "What do you want that I have?" Chara asked, fearful for her life. Rhonda simply made a gesture towards her heart. "Oh. That's what you want." "That's correct. If you want Frisk back from the dead, you will give me your soul." Chara clasped her chest in fear. "No. I don't wanna give it up. I'll die again." "Oh? I thouhht you wanted Frisk back." "I do. All of us do, but it'll kill me if we do that." "Oh, I see. You want your friend back, but you're not willing to do what it takes to get him. Fine. I suppose I'll just take my leave." Rhonda turned her back away from them and Frisk, and no one saw that his hand twitched for a split second. He started breathing again calmly and silently. "It's quite a shame, really." Frisk stood up as Rhonda continued her monologue. Everyone was surprised. "Frisk had a lot of potential, but it seems like it was all wasted o-" "You." Frisk said in a low voice. For the first time, Rhonda got spooked. She turned around to face the source of the voice. By the time her gaze could meet Frisk, it was too late. A drill went through her chest and catapulted her towards the wall at high speed. She screamed in pain. "AHHHH! THAT HURT! Wait. That hurt. But that could only mean...oh no." Frisk stood up with determination flooding his body. He was alive and well once more. "I can't believe you snuck your way into the afterlife, you snake!" Rhonda got scared and threw an amalgamate onto him. The creature quickly invaded him, but this time, Frisk tore the amalgamate out of his soul and his body. The pain felt horrible, but he ignored it and went for Rhonda. "I can't believe you were even allowed to live in the first place, you green bitch! Death is too nice of a punishment for you. If you ask me, you've got some burning to do in hell, so I suggest you get to it!" Frisk kicked Rhonda so hard, she flew into 5 buildings before she crashed. She got knocked out by Frisk. He turned himself away from her direction and walked away. "I can't believe she would actually...try..." Frisk looked up and saw his friends and family. "Frisk..." Chara was surprised to see he was alive. "Chara? Wait. What's going on? Am I even dead?" Everyone cheered. Frisk was back to life. "Chara? Is that really you?" "It's really me, Frisk." Chara said, letting her jubilance show. They ran toward each other. Chara picked him up, kissed his cheek, and set him back down as she embraced him. He returned her affections as she cried tears of joy. "Frisk! Frisk, I'm so happy you came back!" "Chara, am I dead?" "Of course not, you idiot!" Asriel said, joining in on the moment. "You're alive! We got you back alive!" Asriel ran towards Frisk, and everyone joined in on the group hug. Even Asriel showed his affection for Frisk. Frisk started crying again. "I'm sorry, guys! I tried so hard! I'm so sorry, everybody!" "What are you sorry for, Frisk?" Asked Chara. "Just...everything. I'm sorry I hurt you all so much. I'm sorry I killed all those monsters from the ruins and Snowdin. I'm sorry tried to kill you all. But most of all, I'm sorry I was even allowed to exist in the first place." "What the-Frisk, why would you say that?" Asriel asked, worried about him. "I always thought my existence was of no consequence. I thought it was because I was alive that the world is in the state it is now. So I figured if I killed myself, then everything would be okay. The sun would still set, the wind would still blow, the days would still pass, the seasons would still change, everything would get along fine without me because I thought I was why everything sucks now. So I wanted to make the world a better place by taking myself out of it." Chara and Asriel both smacked him in the face. "Frisk! Don't say that!" They begged. "Wha-guys, you know I'm right about that. It's the truth." Sans grabbed him and brought his face to Frisk's with the most genuine expression he could muster up. "You listen to me, Frisk. Don't you dare say that again!" "Sans, come on. I really am-" "STOP! JUST STOP! Don't you DARE be sorry for being alive! That's not something you should EVER be sorry for! And don't you fucking forget it!" "Papyrus-" "No. Sans is right." Papyrus said, sharing his thoughts. "Being alive is a good thing. You think it's a curse because of what you did and what happened to you. But you listen to us. Being alive is a blessing, and we're sorry everything made it look like the exact opposite. Don't ever speak like that again." Frisk just cried and buried himself in Chara's chest. "I'm sorry. It's just...a lot has happened. Rhonda, she tried...I'm sorry. I shouldn't say." "Frisk, it's okay. You can tell us. We're here for you, sweetie." Chara said with a warm smile. Frisk looked Chara in the eyes. "Okay. Guys. Rhonda. She tried to rape me." Everyone was shocked. "What? She...forced herself onto you?" "She tried to rape me, Chara. She took off my pants, and tried to take off her clothes. I told her I didn't want it, but she didn't stop. But I fought back. She didn't get my underwear off, and I fought back. I threw her off of me. I didn't know she was a pedophile. She tried to rape me." Chara's fear turned to anger as she made her creepy face. Everyone else joined in on the same emotion: rage. "She. Is going. To PAY!" They all said. Chara reiterated. "SHE! IS GOING! TO PAY!" Chara was so mad, she was ready to go after Rhonda, and massacre her. "Chara, no! Please don't go! I just want to be with you right now. I love you." Chara's rage subsided and held Frisk tightly. Asgore and Toriel chimed in. "Frisk, listen to us." Asgore humbly requested. Frisk lifted an ear. "Frisk, we are sorry Rhonda tried to molest you." Said Toriel. "What she did was wrong. You are not at fault for defending yourself. It was not your fault she tried to rape you. You did nothing wrong. You actually did exactly what you should have done. You know why? Because no one has the right to touch you like that without your consent. If you did not want her to do that to you, she should have stopped right then and there. What you did was a good thing. We understand if you are still hurting from it, so we are sorry for even making you say it." "No. You don't have to be sorry." Frisk said, lifting his head up. "You just care. That's why you wanted to know. You knew I was hurting, and you wanted to help. And I faulted you guys for that because I didn't want you to worry. And I'm sorry for that. You were just trying to stop me from hurting myself and anyone else." "We didn't stop you, Frisk. If anything, all Asriel and I did was make things worse." Chara confessed. "We acted like you were just a stupid kid, while in truth, you just weren't as experienced as us. Asriel killed you so many times. I acted like you were a horrible person after you killed my mom, and I felt that hatred for you until you and I saw something in one another. And the worst part is, I probably COULD have at least tried to protect mom from you. Try to protect everyone from you." "Chara, we're talking about all the bad things I did to you guys!" "So what if you are?! We're sorry, too! All of us are! We made you suffer for nothing! Almost all of us killed you, Frisk. Asriel especially did. We didn't even treat you like one of our own when we could have, and I'M sorry for that, Frisk." "Shut up! There's nothing for any of you to be sorry about! Because...I get it now." "Get what?" "I get it now! You guys never laughed at what I became. You were just trying to help me get used to it. It was all just a misunderstanding! A mistake! Sure we all made it, but I'm the one who's especially guilty of that! And...now I see why Sans told me never to say that stuff again. Sure, everything will be fine without me, but...you guys don't want that without me. Because you love me. I just...I mean, seriously, guys. I'm not even mad at any of you anymore. I was never even mad in the first place. I guess I was just scared and confused at what I became. I just...yeah. I can't...stay mad at any of you. Not even Asriel. I have every right to, but what would be the point? Yes, it happened, but...I think...wow. I wanna live again. I wanna live again! I feel...better. I guess all I needed was to talk it out or something. Thank you, guys." "Frisk...are you saying...you forgive us all?" What the-yes! Yes, I forgive you all! I forgave you the second it happened! It was just too scary for me to fathom!" "Frisk. I forgive you, too. When it comes to mom, apology accepted. I love you." "I love you, too." Chara and Frisk kissed again as they shared a loving embace. Then they both opened their eyes in surprise as they found out they frenched with each other. They both slowly closed their eyes, and let everything wash over them. The past felt so far away, they forgot everyone else. "Frisk...I'm so happy to have you back." "Chara...I'm in love with you." "So am I. But with you." They surrendered themselves to each other. Their embrace turned into burning passion. They took their lips apart from each other as they caught their breath. "Frisk. You smell like...butterscotch." Chara said, noticing his scent. "Chara, your skin. It's turning purple." Frisk replied, noticing her appearance. "Are you okay, Chara?" "Yeah. I feel great. I'm back with the man I'm in love with, and I wanna show him something." Chara changed into what she really looked like. "Wow. You're a hybrid, too? You look like an astigmatism." "Yeah." "Wow. You look...amazing." "Oh, you're just saying that." "No, I'm not. I don't care what you look like. You're you. And that's enough for me." Chara formed a mouth, and she stuck her long tongue out. Frisk stuck his long tongue out as well. They both touched them together, and locked lips again. As they became even more enamored, Frisk started pushing on Chara. She steadily breathed in and out in ecstacy, wanting to be intimate with Frisk. The smell of butterscotch became intense enough to make her feel pleasured. "Frisk. I want you." "Chara. Anything." They both got ready to take off their clothes, but Sans lifted Frisk off of her before he could do anything else. "Huh? What? Frisk, what are you doing? I thought...oh." Chara noticed Sans levitating Frisk. "I forgot. Neither of us are old enough for that yet." "Sorry, Sans." "Yeah. It's cool." Sans said while he sat Frisk down gently. "You guys really seem to like each other. In a special type of way." Frisk and Chara smiled at each other. "Yeah. I guess we do, comedian." Chara confirmed. Asriel pouted. "Aw, come on, Rei. You're not still upset, are you?" "Frisk, I'll put up with it because you make her happy, and that's all I want for her." He said. "Aw. I love you too, Rei." "Stop with the 'Rei', Chara. You know I don't like it." She just laughed. "Chara, seriously. Enough with calling me Rei. It's Asriel." "By the way, where does 'Rei' come from anyway? Like why does she call you that?" Asked Frisk. "Oh, that." Replied Chara. "I just took the 'r-i-e' part of his name, and rearranged it. Then one day, I called him that, and I guess he didn't like it. Got real annoyed when I called him 'Rei'. After that, I decided to call him that personally every now and then. I don't say it all the time, though. Pisses him off. Sometimes I say it when I'm angry at him." "So you gave him a nickname?" "She did, and I hate it!" Asriel said, pouting again. "Well, would you have preferred I call you 'crybaby' again?" Asriel's scleras started turning black. "That's what I thought." "All right. I think we've had enough of being in this old, crumbling building." Sans said, changing the subject. "Let's get back to the school." They moved as fast as they could back to their fortress. They brought the monster and human Frisk absorbed as an amalgamate back with them to feed them and give them shelter. They had Frisk back, but it wasn't going to stay this optimistic.

[miobambiino]

‘Pass Me By’

A bit like a 'five time plus one time' fic, wherein Tony surprises Steve unintentionally, except its four times, and there isn't a 'plus one time he didn't' bit, so, not really.

Tony was kind of an unpredictable guy.

Well, ‘kind of’ was an understatement. He was also, as Rhodey put it, really fucking weird.

When Steve first met the man, he was fooled by the charismatic demeanour he threw over all of their eyes; but after living with the guy for a few months and seeing his guard slowly lower down, he let his quirks show.

So as unpredictable as the guy was, they had come to be able to predict that he would do unexpected things.

The Captain didn’t expect, however, for Tony to march past a swarm of SHIELD agents, shoulder between Sam and Clint, and punch him square in the face.

“What the fuck, Cap?!”

Steve stood stock still, blinking a few times and noting that his upper lip was now wet. Bringing his hand up he dabbed away the blood trickling from his nose.

“Mister Stark,” came Fury’s steady voice as he parted between the agents, making a quick gesture with his hand to dismiss them from the room.

“You!” Tony accused, jabbing a finger towards Fury, who remained patient, “You said he was killed-!”

“It was necessary, only myself, agent Romanoff and Barnes could know Captain Rogers’ status. We were tracing a serial killer,” he addressed the whole team now, who – Nat and Bucky – who were in various stages of shock, relief, and anger.

“The only way Cap could get close enough is if the guy thought he was dead,” Bucky tried to explain.

“That makes no sense,” Bruce cut in, clearly frustrated but keeping a lid on it – unlike Tony, who was wide-eyed and practically seething, “why did he need to think Steve was dead, why not tell us?”

Fury exchanged a look between Barnes, when Natasha piped up.

“Because the killer was focused on us,” she explained, “A super-enhanced being, and a psychopath… he wanted us to suffer. Remember the first real lead we got, it was right after he made Bruce hulk out,”

“He gets off on causing us emotional distress basically,” Bucky supplied, shrugging at the exasperated look from Steve. The soldier cast a look at Tony, who was breathing heavily through his nose.

“Essentially, yes,” Nat agreed, “so naturally, when he shot Steve-”

“Wait, that wasn’t part of this…this bullshit-lie, you were shot-?!”

Steve held out his palm towards Tony, as if trying to soothe a wild animal, “Hey, it barely clipped me, but-”

“The psycho assumed he got him, so we rolled with it, staged the fake private-funeral, and the guy came out of hiding – he gets cocky when he gets the outcome he wants from us,”

“Ah,” Wanda said, much calmer than the others – she never read any of their thought without asking, she had enough control, but that didn’t stop her getting a feel for their emotions. Bucky hadn’t even been upset when he broke the news to them. She must have sensed it wasn’t quite the case, but she never mentioned it. “So that’s why you were ‘holding off’ telling the media, because you didn’t want to have to go through the press,”

“Exactly,” Bucky huffed, “didn’t wanna deal with that shit,”

“Did you not trust us to know?” Thor asked, his normal jubilant tone subdued. Steve deflated, and looked at the faces of his team.

Wanda was the least shaken by the ordeal, but the tight purse of her lips indicated her displeasure at putting her friends, her family, through such pain. Sam had accepted Steve back with open arms, forgiving him instantly. Clint understood the need to do what they did, but the tension in his shoulders read that he wasn’t happy about it. Thor had gripped him in a bear-hug, but seemed put-out by the fact they were left in the dark about Steve’s ‘murder’. Bruce was mad, felt hurt, but was focusing most of his efforts on calming Tony down, as was Rhodey.

Tony, aside from decking the guy, was shaking with anger; eyes glossed over and knuckles white.

“The guy needed to see us – the team – genuinely hurt, to believe it,” Nat said gently, “otherwise he’d never of bought it, never would have poked his head up from the sand and gave us the chance we needed – a killer would still be on the streets if we didn’t… another body could have been on our hands,”

That seemed to ease the stiffness from the others, and they came forward to check their leader over, Thor pulling him into a much warmer embrace, followed by Sam, Clint, and Bruce.

Wanda hung back with Tony, casting a concerned look at the dishevelled brunette, who didn’t look too comforted.

Later, Tony sat cross-legged on the conference table, staring out at the sky-line from the Helicarrier. The room was empty save the genius, who decided to skip out on the debriefings. No one had tried to stop him. He stayed in the room, sat in the dark, not bothering to turn on the lights. He wanted to look out at the stars.

“Thought I’d find you here,”

Tony bristled at the new voice, shifting in his spot.

Steve sighed, stepping further into the room until he was leant against the table, Tony pointedly not looking at him.

“Everyone else seems to have forgiven me now,” Steve sighed, twiddling his fingers together, casting a cautious look at the other man.

Tony wet his lips, and cleared the lump in his throat with a small cough before speaking.

“You… you let me think you were dead, Steve, I…”

“I know, Tony, and I’m sorry, but-”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Tony spoke barely above a whisper, and Steve’s heart clenched painfully.

“I wanted to, Tony, God… I wanted you to know so badly but…”

“But what?” Tony snapped, causing Steve to flinch inwardly.

“They, they said it needed to be genuine-”

“But why not tell me, Steve, just… God, I sound so fucking selfish but, why, why couldn’t you tell me-?”

“Because! Because… they,” he rubbed a hand over his face, flustered, before sighing in defeat. “Because they said you’d give the most genuine and… and satisfying reaction… for the killer. That way, he was more likely to come out to gloat… and then we’d have a shot at getting the guy, which we did-!”

Tony had gone stock still, eyes wide and sad.

“You, uh… you know?” he asked incredulously, though his voice was quiet.

Steve knew the way Tony felt about him. Hell, Natasha and Fury knew too; Steve had only found that out when the director himself insisted Tony not know the truth, since they were bound to get a reaction from him Nabokov – the killer – wanted.

Nabokov had been an agent inside of SHIELD, had access to security footage from every facility, including any places the team chose to grieve. SHIELD had let him watch, lured him out of the shadows just to gloat.

It was because they knew how Tony felt that it was such a shock when he ploughed a fist into the Captain’s nose.

It tore Steve apart to do this to his friend, his best friend. But it was necessary.

Steve wasn’t quite ready to admit to himself that Tony’s laugh sent butterflies fluttering through his stomach, blossoming warmth into his bones. God, he was such a coward. Letting Tony think that… that he didn’t feel the same damn way. But he just wasn’t ready.

“Yeah,” Steve said, voice raw and painful, “I know, Tony,”

With that, Tony nodded curtly, slid off the table, and left.

Steve let him, self-loathing oozing into his gut as he let the man he loved cared for walk away.

A month later, and Tony and Steve were back to talking as usual. Sometimes Tony joked about his feelings for Steve, brushed them off as nothing more than physical attraction. Really, its an appreciation for the science behind the serum, not the meat-head piloting it, he’d said, cackling like a madman at Steve’s mock-offended expression.

They both knew it wasn’t true, and they both decidedly didn’t mention it.

“What the hell does agitare mean?” Clint asked, squinting at the cook-book lead out in front of him. It was written in Italian, which Clint claimed was the only way to cook authentic Italian food.

Problem was he didn’t know any Italian that wasn’t written on the menu of an Italian restaurant, limiting his knowledge to types of pasta, cheese, and tomatoes.

“It means stir, dumbass,”

“Hey! I’m trying to learn, don’t be so fuckin’ condescending,” Clint chastised, pointing a wooden spoon in Tony’s direction accusingly, flicking the engineer with tomato juice.

“I mean,” the brunette replied, locking his tablet and directing his attention to the archer, who was clad in a children’s chef hat and apron, making him look twice as ridiculous as usual. “Why don’t you just get me to read it for you, instead of asking me every other second what words mean?”

Clint considered him for a moment, before nodding.

“Okay, you’re up.”

He tossed the book over to Tony, ignoring the frustrated grunt from Bruce as the book landed in the middle of his notes, scattering them across the island in the middle of the kitchen where most of the team currently sat.

Steve walked in, towel slung over his shoulders from the quick shower he took after his session in the gym with Nat and Sam, rubbing it absently against the back of his head where his wet hair dripped onto the back of his white t-shirt.

“What’s the second row say?” Clint asked, stirring the pot in front of him.

“Schiacciare l’aglio e il basilico in una pasta e aggiungere alle cipolle,”

“In English, asshole,”

Tony grinned devilishly, before reading out the instructions to Clint.

Steve watched Tony carefully, trying not to seem too awed by the other man speaking beautifully in flawless Italian. Steve had known Maria was Italian, but he hadn’t been aware that much had passed on to Tony. He supposed he should have seen it; his dark, full hair, his tanned complexion, the way spoke with his hands so passionately, the way his body moved so fluidly, seductively, making Steve’s mouth dry and his palms sweaty…

Okay, so maybe not all of that was down to Tony being half Italian, and more to do with the restless thumping Steve’s heart did when he locked eyed with the brunette.

Still not ready to confront that.

“How long you been able to speak Italian anyway, man?” Clint ventured, peeling cloves of garlic and crushing them under the blade of a knife.

“Real question is how long have I been able to speak English, birdbrain,”

That earned a few raised eyebrows, and Nat’s attention from where she sat between Bruce and now Steve.

“Italian is your mother-tongue?” She asked curiously, setting her mug of green tea down on the surface.

“Yeah – well, I was speaking English pretty soon after I begun to speak Italian, but when I was born my Mom, she wanted privacy, so we stayed with her family in Italy most of the year,” he shrugged, reading off the next line of the book to Clint, who threw a thumbs-up back at him. “They all spoke it, so guess I just picked it up first,”

Steve had been living under the same roof as the other man for some time now, and in all of his unpredictable quirks and mannerisms, he still found himself being surprised by the genius in ways he had not before even considered.

“What’s Italian for ‘I need to go get some garlic bread’?” Clint asked plainly.

“Devo andare a prendere un po 'di pane di aglio,” Tony said automatically, not looking up from the page of scribbles Bruce had slid over to him. Not to check for any mistakes, no, just to admire it, as Bruce said.

“Excellent,” Nat said without missing a beat, “Get a few, and some cheesy garlic bread while you’re at it,”

Tony huffed irritably, though it lacked any real heat, as Clint chucked to himself.

Tony got up, making sure to push his stool under the table with as much huffing as possible. He stopped in the doorway, and Steve looked up from his sketchbook, noting the expectant look from the brunette.

“You’re coming with me,”

“I am?”

Tony scoffed, rolling his eyes and beckoning Steve over again. “Obviously,”

“It’s really not that obvious,” The blonde sighed, though he was already following Tony out of the kitchen.

They got to the store nearly twenty minutes after they’d originally set off, which didn’t seem that odd, unless you considered the fact the store they most frequently used was a five-minute walk away from the tower.

They’d taken a complete detour, instead of going the most direct way, Tony had lead them down a bunch of side streets, just to end up at the end of the road the store sat on, rather than just walk down said road to get there.

Steve didn’t really mention it – drawing up the conclusion that Tony had thought better they keep to side streets to avoid too much attention. Yet, when they were in the store, Tony made to move to pull up the hood of his jacket or keep his head down; in fact, he even knelt down and spoke to a few kids shopping with their parents, discretely paying for their groceries just to ease some of the tension the parents seemed to carry in their shoulders.

Money wasn’t a problem for Tony, but that didn’t mean he didn’t understand the problems it made for other people, so, he did things like that fairly often, though always under the radar.

When they left the store, Steve started to turn right, to head down the main street this time round rather than waste a quarter of an hour trailing through dingy alleyways. Steve stopped, however, when he didn’t see Tony walking beside him.

Turning around, Tony was stood awkwardly, body tilted to the left, as if willing Steve to choose the long way round again.

“Tony, what are you doing?” Steve asked slowly, eyes flicking around the street for any signs of danger.

Tony tried to feign nonchalance, rubbing his hand through his messy hair – it was starting to curl at the nape of his neck, Steve noted absently.

“Just, I don’t know… side streets are more…” Tony waved a hand round, as if trying to will an excuse to himself, “…picturesque?”

Steve snorted, before walking up the mainstreet, despite Tony’s unusual behaviour.

Like Steve had said and thought many times before, Tony was weird guy, so it really didn’t send any red lights flashing off in his mind.

Begrudgingly, Tony followed after him.

A way down the street Steve noted Tony almost cringe – almost flinch – by his side.

“What the-”

Before he could even finish his sentence, Steve had turned to look at whatever Tony was staring at, and he felt realisation wash over him.

Tony eyed him, a stern expression over his face, willing Steve to keep his mouth shut.

Steve’s eyes glistened, and his lip wavered, trying to push down a smile.

“Don’t,”

“Oh, my God,”

“I said don’t, asshole-!”

“You’re scared of them, aren’t you?”

“No!”

Steve was doubling over now, full belly-laughs rippling through him, as he wheezed around laughter. He swore he even felt tears prick the corners of his eyes, and was earning a fair share of bemused looks from onlookers making their way down the street.

“Shut up, Steve-!” Tony grit out, though he had an air of nervousness around him, smothering most of his frustration.

“Clowns? Really,” Steve threw his head back laughing, clapping Tony on the shoulder, sending a jolt through the other man.

Tony couldn’t help but crack a smile, but the unease from the performers outside a large toy-store remained settled.

A group of performers – of perhaps six or so clowns – were taking pictures with families, promoting some new product Steve guessed. There wasn’t even anything particularly creepy about any of them, all jolly smiles and silly tricks.

Yet the invincible Iron Man had gone wildly out of his way just so he didn’t have to walk past them.

Oh God, Steve didn’t think he’d ever laughed this hard.

“You’re such a dick, Rogers!”

“Clowns, Tony, Clowns – look! That kid just pushed one over-!”

As proof to his claim, a little girl had nudged one of the clowns, who fell backwards dramatically, knocking into another clown, who knocked into another and so on.

And here was Tony, practically petrified by them.

“What sane person likes clowns, Steve? Clowns – imagine waking up in the middle of the night and seeing that-!”

“You’re ridiculous,” Steve wheezed, trying to pull himself together, but he couldn’t wipe off the amused smile from his face if he tried. “Look, just, wander over there – I’ll be there, don’t worry – and just, try not to freak out, its just people in costumes, I mean, c’mon, shellhead-”

“Fine, fine!” the brunette grumbled, begrudgingly following Steve over the edge of a small crowd watching the antics of the group.

Steve wished he could say he was a good friend to Tony when they wandered over. Though he didn’t think any force on Earth would have stopped him practically collapsing in fits of laughter when a clown came up from beside them, honking a horn playfully, and the prompt shriek Tony let out from the top of his lungs, clawing at Steve’s arm.

Laughing so hard it hurt, Steve tried to keep up with Tony, who was walking as fast as possible without it being called running away back towards the safety of their tower.

It had been a rough couple of days.

Infiltrating a Hyrda research base never was a picnic, especially since unlike some of their other foes – namely AIM, Hydra seemed to actually learn from their mistakes.

They took a hit, got shaken up, and were currently tucked into a tiny outpost waiting for the rescue crew. Rain drummed against the old window frames of the building which poke out between a few trees in the middle of nowhere, branches swaying and tapping against the flat rooftop, sheets of water cascading down the walls outside.

Steve had lit a fire, knowing they’d be there for a good while longer because of the storm messing up tracking technology, even my SHIELD’s standard. It was a pretty nasty storm after all. The team crowded round the small furnace, faces illuminated in the warm glow, despite feeling cold and bitter on the inside.

They’d barely scraped out of this one. Tensions were high, and the fight had left most of them feeling haunted by their own memories; none of them mentioned how similar it was to when Wanda put them under her spell. Besides, judging by the way she tucked herself into the corner, she was being eaten up by enough guilt already.

Natasha hadn’t made one comment since the battle finished, absorbed completely in her own thoughts.

Clint tried to approach her, but sighed and slumped back when he was clearly getting nowhere with her here. She didn’t feel safe; she wanted – she needed – to go home.

“She normally likes to listen to songs n’stuff,” Bucky had told Steve, Sam, and Rhodey, who were all rubbing their hands in front of the fire.

“She not responding at all?” Sam asked warily, eyeing his friend from where he sat next to Tony.

“Give her time,” was all Clint said, before going back to idly fiddling with his arrow-heads.

Bruce, Vision and Thor hadn’t come with them this time – it hadn’t seemed necessary at the time. They were almost relieved, though, that the Hulk hadn’t come into contact with the empath like they all had.

Steve watched over Nat with concern written all over his face, before noting a silent exchange between Rhodey and Tony at the corner of his eye.

Rhodey seemed to be urging Tony, who was violently shaking his head in a negative motion. Between his hands, Steve noted Rhodes had picked up the guitar that had been mounted on the wall of the bunker above the stove, tightening the strings.

“C’mon, man,” he heard the Colonel murmur, “for her, yeah?”

Tony seemed to consider this, before his shoulders sagged in defeat.

After a few moments, the pair had shuffled closer to Nat, who made no indication she even knew they were there.

And that’s when Rhodey began to play.

It was a familiar tune, Steve noted, simple and repetitive, yet all the while timeless. Though the guitar wasn’t exactly in the best of shapes, Rhodes played beautifully, his worn fingertips strumming softly against the strings, evoking a tender rendition of the song.

Nat’s body seemed to have gone slightly looser, the vice-like grip she had round her own knees reducing by the slightest amount.

Tony breathed, shifted in his spot next to Natasha, and began to sing. The other’s around them perked up, surprised smiles playing on their faces as the brunette sung, accompanied by the gentle strums of the guitar.

“She's got a smile it seems to me Reminds me of childhood memories Where everything Was as fresh as the bright blue sky,”

Tony’s voice was faintly feminine, yet rather striking. Without even needed to belt it out, the sound of his voice sent a wave of impact through the room. Steve stared, awed, completely unaware that Nat was starting to come out of her shell, eyes trained on Rhodey’s fingers running down the strings.

“Now and then when I see her face She takes me away to that special place And if I'd stare too long I'd probably break down and cry,”

Clint started to hum along – not being the greatest of singers, but good enough to hold a steady tune. Sam started to bob his head, murmuring the words softly.

“Oh, oh, oh Sweet child o' mine Oh, oh, oh, oh Sweet love of mine,”

Steve vaguely picked up on Wanda and Bucky chiming in for the chorus, but Tony… God, he could barely breathe at the sound of the man’s voice; a soothing blanket that fell over the room, sending warmth bubbling up his insides and prickles of cold along his spine.

“She's got eyes of the bluest skies As if they thought of rain I hate to look into those eyes And see an ounce of pain Her hair reminds me of a warm safe place Where as a child I'd hide And pray for the thunder And the rain To quietly pass me by”

Natasha was looking up now, smiling. Then, gingerly, she sang along with Tony, who held her hand as she looked gratefully on at Rhodey. The man didn’t look up from his playing, but his lips quirked upwards; he knew. They sung together:

“Oh, oh, oh Sweet child o' mine Oh, oh, oh, oh Sweet love of mine,”

“You know,” Steve said, arms folded across his broad chest currently stretching out a grey workout shirt, chin tipped downwards, “for a guy who’s been in the war and fights aliens and…” he sighed, cautioning a look at Tony, who was sat on the kitchen worktop.

The brunette was picking slices of pizza from the discarded takeout box from their meal since getting back home in one piece; the others were in various states of passed-out in the living room, save for himself and Steve.

“For a guy like me, who’s done the things I’ve done, I can be such a damn coward.”

Tony blinked, started by the sudden turn in conversation.

Moments ago, it had been just playful banter – nothing too complex or witty, they were all too tired for that.

“Wha-? Cap… you feeling alright? Helmet not squeezing your brain too much?”

“No, Tony,” Steve huffed around a smile, “I mean, I haven’t been totally honest with you,”

Tony’s expression went blank, an air of hurt flashing over his features, before Steve backtracked.

“Not – uh, not like that, God… I just mean, I’ve been too afraid to admit to you that I…” he trailed off, suddenly finding his mouth going dry and hands becoming clammy. “So, uh, you like me, right–? Wait, shit, that makes me sound like such a jerk, shit, sorry-”

Steve fumbled for the right words, already seemingly offending Tony twice already. Fuck, he was so shit at this.

“What I mean, is that, when I…when I knew how you felt – about me – I was scared because-”

“Me liking you scared you-?” Tony asked, eyebrows raised and playful attitude completely lost.

“No! Well, in a way – but not bad!” Steve tried, running a hand through his hair in frustration, looking helplessly at Tony who seemed to only be getting more offended by this rather patchwork ‘confession’.

“So, what? You knew I liked you and, and pretended not to know because it freaked you out – but then you were okay using it as some kind of bait-?!” Tony was growing hostile now, walls coming up to mask any hurt he was feeling.

“You know, Rogers, if this is some backward-ass way of apologising, just drop it, okay? We were fine! Why did you have to bring it up, like I’m not fucking embarrassed about it? Get over yourself, Jesus, I’m over you-!”

“Wait – you’re over me?”

Steve was quiet now, the previous bubbling excitement and nerves tangled together dissipating, replaced with a cold wash of dread.

That seemed to give Tony some pause. The genius’ eyes were glassed over, wide and vulnerable. And Steve knew Tony was trying to pull the wool over his eyes.

“Yes,” Tony said after a while, voice shaken and nit sounding too convinced.

“You really mean that?” Steve tried again, edging closer to Tony, cornering him on the kitchen surface.

Tony’s eyes darted to the door, but then Steve was right there, face inches away from his own, and staring him down, looking for any trace of a lie. Steve was stood between Tony’s legs now, which hung motionless over the edge of the counter. His neck was tilted back slightly, looking up to meet the Captain’s startlingly blue eyes, which flicked over the genius’ face, taking it all in.

Tony felt a huff of air from Steve brush over him, disturbing a lock of dark hair which fell over his eyes. Steve’s hand came up to the side of his face, brushing the hair away, but stayed hovering over his cheek.

Tony swallowed hard, before replying hoarsely.

“No,”

Steve pulled Tony’s face towards his own, pressing their lips together harshly. The Captain ran his hands down Tony’s body, trailing from his cheeks to his hips, using them to pull the other man flush up against him; Tony moaned, running his hands over the expanse of Steve’s shoulders, letting the larger man push him back against the surface, climbing over him and deepening the kiss.

Tony wrapped his legs around Steve’s waist, flicking his tongue over the man’s bottom lip, feeling heat pool in his belly and his insides go gooey.

After a few moments, Steve wound his arms under Tony, hauling them both up and marching out of the kitchen.

“The elevator is that way-” Tony breathed around kisses, pointing to the opposite direction in which they were headed.

“Too far,” Steve practically growled, hoisting Tony up with one arm under his ass and the other opening the door to a small study space they rarely used.

Inside it was dark, filled with a few bookshelves, but namely a large sofa some of them occasionally used to read on.

Steve pulled the door almost shut, pushing Tony back against it closing it all the way, hands roaming over the smaller man’s body.

“FRIDAY, do – fuck, Steve – do your thing,”

Wordlessly, FRIDAY ensured the door was locked and turned the lights up a fraction, just enough to see – which Tony was hugely thankful for, since after Steve set him down on the sofa, he pulled his shift off to reveal his naked torso.

The super-soldier crawled up Tony’s body, gripping him by the hips and rolling down, enticing a moan from the smaller man. Steve’s face was flushed red, his brow furrowed as Tony mouthed at his neck.

Steve suddenly stopped, pupil’s blown wide with lust, yet unease settled behind them.

“Wait, Tony,”

“What, no, no, no… why are you stopping?”

“Tony,” Steve urged, smiling despite himself, before sighing. “I like you, I have feelings for-”

“Steve – I know,” the other man smiled, “I mean, knowing you, I’d be a little concerned if you didn’t,”

Steve suddenly became acutely aware that they were both extremely naked, wrapped up in each other’s bodies – and at some point had asked FRIDAY to turn on the fireplace (looking back, it may have been a bit over-kill on the romance).

“Right, uh, I wasn’t quite sure if you caught the memo,” Steve said, awkwardly scratching at the back of his neck.

Tony looked up at him through his lashes, half of his face illuminated by the low ebb of the fireplace opposite them. He was beautiful – this close Steve noted the freckles dotted over the bridge of his nose, the strands of grey hairs growing from his temples, each individual lash that framed his dark eyes.

“I got it, Steve,” he smiled, before pulling Steve back down to meet his lips.

Hope you enjoy! Prompts for avengers fics are still open ~

[briennejamie]

I’ve decided to drown myself in Evak and the boy squad writing to make myself feel better and since SKAM is on hiatus so here’s a little plot that has been floating around in my head for the past couple of days :)... (also on AO3)

Title: Welcome Home

Summary:  After living in London for almost a decade, Even and Isak decide to move back to Norway together. While grocery shopping, Isak bumps into the boy squad for the first time in years, and little do they know that Even even exists let alone that he is just around the corner. One-shot.

“I used to know where everything was in this goddamn store…” Isak Valtersen’s frustrated mumbling rung in his own ears as he stood looking from shelf to shelf of the grocery store he was currently scouring. He used to know where everything in this store was so well, but having not been in Norway for so long he’s not that surprised. Places that used to be his, felt new and unfamiliar.

Isak backed up in the aisle, searching for the exact brand he needed, his eyes traveling quickly across each row before landing on the ever so clandestine item.

“Thank god,” he sighed in relief. He was pretty sure Even would laugh at him if he had to call him to come help. ‘It’s your town, baby’ he’d say he was sure. It was a good thing Isak loved him so much.

Isak placed the item into his cart and was about to continue on his shopping expedition when he heard his name being called from the other end of the aisle.

“Isak?” the voice sounded to be in disbelief, tone eager and mixed with excitement.

Isak turned his head to see Jonas. Jonas Noah Vasquez just standing there, a grin pulling at his face and eyes. That same hair, face, eyebrows, everything just the same, spare a few more mature features and light crows feet that were just beginning to form around his smiling eyes.

“Jonas!” The two practically ran into each other, embracing vigorously, patting each other on the back, their voices bubbling with laughter.

“I can’t believe it! You’re back?” Jonas still sounded like he couldn’t believe his eyes, but there was the underlying jubilance at the prospect of his best friend coming back to Norway.

Isak sighed out a laugh. “I’m back.”

They hugged again, and over Jonas’s shoulder Isak could see Magnus and Mahdi approaching their grins the same as Jonas’s.

“Isak, holy shit!”

“Bro, what the fuck!”

Their yells made Jonas and Isak pull apart again, allowing Isak to go and hug his other two friends.

“He’s back,” Jonas told them. Isak nodded, his heart beating, his breath heavier, adrenaline flooding his system from the happiness of seeing his friends again.

“I can’t fucking believe this you guys, I was going to call you tomorrow to tell you I was in Norway. What are the fucking odds,” Isak laughed.

“Fucking hell, bro. This is fucking awesome! The gang’s back together!” Magnus exclaimed.

"We were just shopping for this party that's going on at Jonas's soon, holy shit bro," Mahdi laughed before asking,  “How long has it been?”

Isak blinked rapidly, drawing the numbers in his head. “Seven years.” There was a pause.

“Shit,” Jonas breathed out. The boys hummed, nodding their heads.

Isak suddenly felt a wave of guilt rush over him. “Fuck, guys, I’m sorry.”

Jonas furrowed his eyebrows. “For what?”

“For not calling, for just fucking dropping off the face of the planet like that,” Isak confessed. It was something that he would think about often, if he should visit, call, text, anything. Life just got in the way every time, and sometimes he just didn’t call because it was easier. It was easier to not call then try and make plans with the friends he knew he would probably never actually see again, spare the visit to Norway once every year or two.

“Fuck that,” Jonas responded. “We know how hard it was. You moving to London for school was shitty enough, and when it came down to it everything that was happening just got in the way. We know you tried, fuck, we all tried.”

Isak had missed his best friend.

“Preach,” Mahdi commented, raising an invisible glass.

“Yeah…” Isak pieced the words together in his mind. “Once school started my life was so busy I barely had time to breath let alone try and keep up with everyone, I didn’t even call my parents most of the time. After meeting up the first few summers, once I was done with school and I got that job in London there was just no way I could keep living two lives like that, you know?"

The boys nodded, little “yeah”s floating in the air.

“Bro, we get it. We were all building our lives, and besides it wasn’t like you never called or texted. It was just a bunch of shit,” Magnus reasoned.

“Exactly.”

Isak grinned again, now that all the tension was gone. “So, what’s been going on? I need to know everything,” he exclaimed.

Jonas laughed. “Well, you know I got married.”

Isak smiled even brighter at hearing that, but then he remembered: Even was in the vegetable area of the store, and Isak was going to have to unload this great secret onto all of their heads.

“Yeah, man, I’m still pissed I missed the ceremony because of my job. How’s Mia?”

“She’s great, like really great. We bought a house a few months ago.”

“That’s awesome.”

“They’re so fucking in love dude, you should see it,” Magnus joked. Mahdi nodded in agreement and Isak was again reminded how much he missed all of them.

“Yeah well, even Magnus and Mahdi here have long term girlfriends so they can fuck off.” Magnus and Mahdi both shrugged, giving their “guilty as charged” looks.

“That’s great,” Isak said, his mind drifting to Even again.

“You dating anyone?” Magnus asked.

Isak had to take a breath in, and let it quickly and shakily vacate his lungs. “I’m married.”

Looks of shock and incredulity coated the faces of each one of his friends.

Jonas was able to collect himself first. “Are you serious?” He almost looked hurt that his friend hadn’t told him, but then again Jonas knew him too well for that.

“Yeah.” Isak held up his hand to show them the silver band that clung to his ring finger.

“Holy fuck,” Magnus exclaimed, hugging Isak again.

Once Magnus let go Mahdi and Jonas both gave their little looks of approval.

“It’s actually part of why I’m moving back here,” Isak began. “I’ve wanted to leave my job for a while now, and I got some job offers from different labs all over the place. One of them was here in Norway, and my…” he stuttered for the best word, “spouse is also from Norway so it just seemed perfect.”

“When are we gonna meet her?” Magnus questioned, his tone filled with excitement.

“Well…” Of course it was then Even decided to come find Isak, he always did have perfect timing.

“Hey, babe did you find the-” Even paused, raising his eyebrows at the scene in front of him. “Hi.”

“I did find it, thank you for all the help,” Isak joked, hoping to show Even that everything was okay. He seemed to understand the message because his face broke into his usual grin.

“Of course,” he responded.

Isak took a deep preparatory breath in. “Even, these are my friends from Nissen. Jonas, Magnus, and Mahdi. Guys, this is Even, my husband.” While ever since meeting Even in London, falling in love with him, marrying him, Isak had been comfortable with these ideas of “boyfriend” and “husband” and “gay” it felt like a grand moment to finally say those words to all the people who he was too afraid to tell before when he was still young and naive.

After a period of silence brought on by pure shock, Jonas, once again, broke the ice. “It’s great to meet you.” He leaned forward to shake Even’s hand, as did Mahdi. Magnus however was not nearly so graceful.

“Holy shit, your husband ? Your tall, fucking hot husband? Bro, you’re gay and you have a husband ? What the fuck,” Magnus’s word vomit never ceased to impress. Even laughed out of the sheer ridiculousness of it.

Isak rolled his eyes. “Yes, Magnus. I’m gay and this is my husband.”

Magnus nodded his head slowly, processing. “That’s fucking awesome dude. The diversity of our little group is getting better by the second.” Mahdi just had to smack him upside the head for that one, Magnus blurting a little “hva faen?”

Even laughed once more, pulling Isak to his side and pressing a kiss to his cheek. Isak rolled his eyes again, this time in the fond way that was reserved for Even.

“That’s right, we’re married,” Even gloated. “I managed to catch Isak Valtersen, I’m a legend for that, don't forget it.”

Isak couldn't help his smile. “Oh, my God Even. I can’t believe you.”

Even scoffed. “Yes, you can.”

Isak grumbled in the fondest way possible, looking at his husband, Even looking back at him, his mouth forming that little smile that he could never stop whenever he saw Even.

“I think we’ve found a couple worse that Jonas and Mia,” Mahdi joked with a touch of seriousness.

Jonas and Magnus laughed, before Jonas smiled brightly at his best friend, his hand clasping his shoulder and suddenly it was like he'd never left.

“Welcome home.”

[elizaslegacy]

Prince of Crimson Tides (Chapter 3)

Summary: You’re a Spanish princess whose ship was raided by pirates. You come to find that the Captain of the pirate ship is none other than Captain Miranda - otherwise known as the Prince of Crimson Tides.

Pairing(s): Lin x reader (give me suggestions for other pairings!!)

Warnings: cursing, mentions of sex, 

Tags: @lookaroundlookaroundhowlucky @haletotheking24

5 days.

120 hours.

7,200 minutes.

432,000 seconds.

That’s how long you had been on this damned ship. 

You grew more and more hopeless with every moment you spent there. Everything that happened made you want to dive headfirst off of the ship. You probably would have, if Lin let you out of his sight for more than a few seconds. 

After that first dinner, you had started to befriend some of the crew members. Lin had noticed, and in his never-ending quest to make you miserable, had begun to take you wherever he went. 

You were faced with constant taunts; a rumor that you and Lin were fucking had spread like wildfire. Everywhere you went, pirates jested and hollered at you. You wanted to gag at the thought of sharing such an intimate moment with the arrogant, insufferable Miranda. 

Despite the gossip, Lin hadn’t once slept in his own bed since your arrival. You went to bed alone; you woke up in the middle of the night alone. You rose from your slumber, that’s right, alone. 

Sometimes you briefly wondered if the man ever slept, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care enough to ask. All you knew was that you were grateful to be spared from sharing a bed with him.

However, Lin wanted to spend every waking minute of daylight with you. Your neck was heavily bruised from the constant yanking on your collar, beckoning you this way or that. You escorted him through his daily chores, but the worst part was when you had to simply sit and watch him as he wrote in his study. And this guy could write. You had no idea what the Captain was scribbling into his countless journals; he sat hunched over his desk, flyaways straying from his tight ponytail, for hours on end. You could only sit there and look at his back, occasionally making conversation.

You were now sat on the floor of Lin’s study; he was perched at his desk, scrawling line after line with furious speed. You let your head fall back against the wooden wall with a gentle sigh. “Will you ever let me be somewhat free?” you inquired in a low tone. “I mean, we’re in the middle of the ocean. Seeing as I’m unable to go anywhere, I’d like to actually do something.”

Lin hummed in acknowledgement, his rapid scribbling not pausing. His eyes didn’t move at all from his work. One would think that the Captain wasn’t paying attention, but you knew he was vigilant. If your five days spent involuntarily glued to Lin’s side had taught you anything, it was that the man was always, always listening.

Knowing this, you let out another sigh - this one louder and more dramatic. “I feel as thought my soul is wasting away with every moment I spend here. What’s the use in me just sitting here, doing nothing?” you inquired honestly.

Lin finally spoke up, his gaze trained downwards on his papers at all times. “What would you rather be doing, then?” You searched the man’s tone for his usual teasing, but you came up empty. He sounded genuinely interested in what you had to say.

“Well, if I was home, I’d be studying or learning to be a good wife,” you voiced. Lin’s eyebrow arched curiously at the latter of the two. “Y’know, cooking, cleaning, sewing - all that stuff.”

“That sounds fucking horrible.”

You jumped a bit at how flat and candid the Captain’s tone was. “Uh...yeah, it was,” you confessed. “I mean, I love to learn about mathematics and science and history, but the motherly stuff was...” Your voice trailed off as you figured Lin got the point.

“I do suppose there are some things you could be doing instead of just sitting there,” Lin mused, his writing pausing as he turned to face you.

An incredulous snort escaped you. “You suppose?” you repeated in a sarcastic tone. “Wow, how did you ever figure that one out? You truly are a genius.” Your voice was flat as you raised an eyebrow.

Miranda cleared his throat before responding. “Unfortunately for you, princesa, I am the captor and you are the captured. So I get to do what I want with you. I’m sorry to say, but you’re at my disposal.”

“You’re not sorry.”

“You’re right, I’m not.”

A disgusting smirk spread over the Captain’s lips as he glanced down at where you were situated on the floor. “I was just being socially gracious. You know? Polite? Lie to your face with a smile on my lips?” He chuckled darkly. “You should know all about that, princesa. Tell me, how many people have you lied to just to save your own ass? Even better, how many people has your father lied to? I’d bet you’re one of them.”

You felt anger bubble up in your chest. How dare this scoundrel bring up the King of Spain’s name in such a casual and disrespectful manner? “My father has nothing to do with this,” you hissed out through gritted teeth. “Leave him out of it. We’re talking about my freedom here, not my father or the monarchy!”

A bitter laugh erupted from Lin’s mouth; the man narrowed his eyes at you. “I want you to think long and hard about what you just said,” he growled. “Repeat that in your pretty little head until you realize how fucking stupid that just sounded. You have no concept of the real world.”

With that, Lin spun around and began to write again. Your mouth hung open in surprise at his outburst, but you remained silent. There was no use in bothering him, not again. You elected to close your mouth and simply lean against the wall quietly. Your fingers fumbled with your thin cotton tunic; the sound of a quill scrawling against rough paper bounced off of the walls.

What the hell was Lin talking about?

What had the monarchy, much less your father, done to him?

You shook the questions out of your head and returned to watching the man write. Now that you got the chance to look over him a little closer without getting caught or ridiculed, you realized that he was actually pretty attractive. His smooth black hair was like silk, shining in its tight ponytail. His eyebrows furrowed in his focused state; his tongue poked out ever so slightly in thought. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he looked...cute. You did know better, though. You knew this man was a deadly predator who took lives in the hundreds. He was not cute. He was a ruthless savage.

There was a sudden shout from the hall. “Captain, rogue ship approaching!”

Lin’s head snapped up, his senses even more heightened than normal when he heard the news. “Another ship?” he called out in response. His voice sounded strained. 

“Yes. We should be passing in about five minutes or less, sir!”

A string of curses erupted from the man’s mouth. “We’re that fucking close and they don’t tell me until now?” he spat angrily. “Fucking imbeciles.”

You flinched slightly at Lin’s cold string of insults. The Captain stood up and began to fasten his overcoat; he shot a glance back at you. “Stay here. I’ll send someone to watch you.”

You scowled. “I don’t need someone to watch me! I’m not a child, you-”

Slam.

You sighed, standing up and strolling around the study. You briefly peeked on Lin’s desk, sifting through his notes, but finding nothing of significance. It was all just wind directions, wave patterns, food rations, inventory, and storm logs. Bored, you set down the piles of papers. 

The door swung open, and in strode a bubbly Anthony. He had a goofy smile on. You paused for a minute, your eyes narrowing slightly. Hold on, you thought. I’ve seen him before. I know that face. You carefully studied the man’s jubilant features, but came up empty. Huh. Maybe he just looked similar to someone you knew. Anthony did, after all, look very Spanish with his thick, curly hair and olive skin.

“Hey, (Y/N)!” he greeted loudly. “What’s up? Lin sent me in here to watch you. He probably sent me in here because I’m pretty incapable of defending myself, too. I don’t even carry a weapon because Lin says I’ll kill myself by accident. Speaking of Lin, you know I’ve never seen his study or room? He’s never allowed me in! How wild is that? I-”

“Oh my god, please shut up,” you groaned, cutting Anthony off mid sentence. “I’m sorry, but you just said so many things in, like, 5 seconds.” 

Despite your rude comment, he continued smiling at you. “Oh, I’m sorry! I have a bad habit of rambling. At least that’s what everyone tells me. ‘Ever since you learned English you haven’t been able to shut up!’ is what Pippa says. Hah. Pippa is so funny.”

You stared at Anthony with wide eyes as you attempted to process everything he said. He continued to talk wildly for a good ten minutes, gesticulating dramatically with every word.

Eventually, when you got bored with the incessant and one-sided talking, you stood up and began to walk towards the door. God, that kid can talk, you thought. You reached for the doorknob -  the prospect of fresh air, a trip to the restroom, and a minute of silence on your mind - when Anthony slid in between you and the exit.

“Woah, woah, woah,” the man cautioned. “Where do you think you’re going?” He raised an eyebrow at you; you tried to push past him, but he didn’t budge.

You took a step back. “Getting some air and using the bathroom. Do you have a problem?” you inquired in a harsh tone. 

Anthony shook his head and laughed nervously. “Um, I don’t think so,” he informed you. “I was sent here to watch you, remember? Part of Lin’s specific orders was to make sure you did NOT leave.”

You cursed under your breath. “I have to use the bathroom!” you whined, stamping your foot for effect. 

He shrugged, not about to let you go.

That was, until he saw the slightly ajar door to Lin’s room. 

You saw Anthony’s eyes wander behind you; they fixated on that open door. “Hold on...” you interjected, an idea forming in your mind. “Didn’t you say you had never been in Lin’s quarters before?” You picked up on the obvious curiosity in his bright hazel eyes and decided to take advantage of it.

“Yeah,” he shrugged, trying to pretend like he wasn’t interested. 

You raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Let’s go check it out. Don’t worry, I’ll come with you.”

Anthony’s childlike nature got the best of him and he barreled ahead into the bedroom. You took the opportunity to exit the study hastily and run onto the deck.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” a strained voice hissed at you. You turned and were faced with a very angry Jasmine and a slightly uneasy Leslie. The poor man. You didn’t think he had enough rage in his heart to ever get outwardly mad at anyone.

You shrugged indifferently. “Going to the restroom, if you must know.”

Jasmine grabbed you and attempted to hide you. “Are you crazy?” she spat. “We told you that we’re passing a rogue ship, if they see-”

“It’s the princess! Princess (Y/N) of Catalonia! They have her!”

Jasmine winced as she finished her sentence. “-you...”

[rydenismyreligion]

The Cherry FIc

Warnings: Idk any more

I awake groggily, I can’t remember anything. Yesterday was all a blur. I know Phil and I had been dating for a year now, it was our anniversary so we decided to have a party. I remember lots of alcohol, weird indie movies and boiled eggs. But now, where am I? I adjust my eyes and look around. It’s bright, blindingly blight but I can make some obscure shadowy figures.I recognize chairs, what looks like an assortment of clothes and various objects on the floor and a TV. It’s my room, well, mine and Phil’s room. I wipe my eyes and get up, I’m in bed. Shirtless, and wearing boxers. I take off the bed clothes and stand up. My body feels tense so I bend down and over to stretch. “You’re up, finally.” I recognize the voice. How could I not? It’s Phil’s voice. Vibrant and jubilant, lights my heart just hearing a vowel emitted from his mouth. I turn around, Phil is standing there wearing a plain white tee and some gray sweat pants. His hair’s a little messy but It’s early in the morning. He’s smiling, such a bright smile. “Phil,” I reply. I run up to him and embrace his nice slender body. I look him in the eyes, instantaneously we kiss. Our breath might smell like alcohol and eggs but it’s still one of the most empowering kisses I’ve ever had. One year, to think I’ve been with Phil for one year. “You’re in a good mood,” Phil points out. I let go and tears of joy flow from eyes, “How could I not be? I love you phil.” I go back for another embrace followed by a sweet kiss. I get lost in him, in his everything. In his supple yet fortified body, in his sweet soft lips, in his gentle embrace, in the light of his own existence. He’s my one my all, my alpha my omega, I can’t describe how I feel. Call me a sexually misunderstood dramaqueen teen but goddammit I love phil. I’d love him as a girl, but I’m glad he’s a guy. So much time passes, it’s a tongueless kiss. We don’t need our tongues to dance to show our feelings, just the embrace is enough for us. I think to myself, “How long has it been? Minutes? Hours? Days? Years? Eons? This kiss seems laconic yet eternal. Perhaps my homo-erotic fantasies are taking over and this is the greatest feeling in the world, or perhaps I’m being admonished of what to come. But why do I know something bad will happen? What is this apprehensive feeling I have? It festers in my heart, diabolically ripping my feelings apart and smiting my love. No, go away! GO AWAY! Why am I screaming on the inside? Why are all these questions forming? I love Phil so what could be wrong? How long has this kiss been? What’s going on?” My thoughts are cut off immediately. The kiss fades away and I fall on my back. Blood is on my lips and down my chin but I didn’t feel anything. I look up as my paralyzed body lies in a contorted position. In what looks look like a scene from a horror movie there stands Phil, his piercingly cold eyes, his menacing grin, and blood on his teeth. In his right hand is a syringe– an empty one at that. I feel dizzy. “Phil,” I struggle to call out to him, but no success. My mind drifts, my body fades. Like the pouring rain I feel gone. I drift off to…to where exactly?… …. “WAKE UP BITCH!” A sudden jolt of electricity shoots through my spine as a stinging sensation emits from my chest. I cough up air that I choke on and crane my head forward giving me whiplash. “AHH!” I scream in pain only for my mouth to be cupped. Phil’s demonic eyes stare me into my soul. He has a vicious smile on his face. “Scream and I kill you. Nod if you understand?” I don’t know what’s going on, or why but I instinctively nod. He pushes me back and whips me again across my neck. I bite my lip and curl my toes and fingers as the searing burns fester. I’m chained, my arms and legs are restricted and I’m somewhere in a dark room. Before I can recover from the previous mark of searing pain the whip cracks again against my right shoulder. My eyes widen and I suppress a scream but in a chained order the whip fluidly cracks itself against my stomach, back, and various appendages. “OH GOD STOP!” I scream inside but it’s no use. I cry, I cry heavily. I don’t make any noises except for faint grunts of horror but my eyes won’t stop leaking. The tears trickle down my face and tickle me. Not the fun friendly tickle, the irksome tickling that feels uncomfortable. Everything hurts, everything is black and gray as the whip snakes itself painfully upon my body. Phil’s snapped, that’s all I can say, but why? I try to think to last night but abruptly it’s over. “How does it feel, bitch?” Phil snaps. He accentuates the last word as if to let me know that I’m now his bitch. I grit my teeth and lie, “It feels good babe,” tears stream down my face faster. Phil’s lips curl again. He doesn’t smile anymore, instead he horrifically curls his lips as if he’s in a movie made by Tim Burton. He licks the tears off my face slurping them with the utmost obnoxious moans. It’s not kinky licking, either, it’s almost like Phil is slowly eating me like an ice cream. He’s gonna thaw me by licking me all around until I’m nice and moist where then he’ll take a bite and It’ll be over- or at least that’s the feeling. “Your tears,” Phil grunts between licks, “they’re so delicious.” He moans in pleasure. I hold my tongue and try to suppress my every urge to scream but it’s futile. Phil suddenly stops licking me. He unchains me systematically, almost like he’s a robot. I fall to the ground and hit my back. This pain is nowhere near as bad as what I just went through. I get up and am greeted by a fist across my cheek. It’s blindingly fast and unexpected. I slam back into a wall coughing up blood on the way. Before I can collect my bearings Phil charges toward me, swinging his whip passionately against my withered body. The whip travels its way painfully across myself each strike so much more deadly than the last. “WHY WON’T YOU TALK TO ME!!!???” Phil demands in between whippings. I reply in between the whippings, “I.. didn’t… know… you… wanted.. me… to Phil!” Phil stops. He rests his whip and sighs. I fall down on my knees covered in bruises and blood. I cough up thick red phlegm and hope it’s over. But of course, it isn’t. Phil roughly grabs my hair and drags me against he cold concrete floor. He takes me to a sink and bends my head back in the bowl. I stare up at the faucet knowing what comes next. Burning hot water pours down like a waterfall smothering my face. It seeps into my mouth, down my nostrils, clogging my ears, and sliding underneath my eyeballs. The pain is never ending, never ceasing, it goes on and on burning worse and worse. I try spitting out the water but more comes in. I’m choking, burning and drowning at the same time. I feel my consciousness fade but then it stops.. Abruptly Phil pulls out my head. I take a deep breath that is short lived. Swiftly he dunks my head in a bucket filled with freezing water. At first it feels pleasant the cold water, but then it burns. It freezes over on my face and burns me worse than the hot water. I yell my heart out in the water bubbles quickly travel up to the surface repeatedly popping. Phil pulls me out again and leans in near my wet and burnt face. “So?” He asks, “Anything to say?” I spit water in his face. “WHY?” I yell at myself. “WHY DID YOU DO THAT DAN YOU FUCKING IDIOT! OH GOD PHIL’S GOING TO KILL ME!’ Phil wipes the water off his face and curls his lips again. He throws me against a wall and I slink down. He looms over me and unzips his pants. “You might like to spit but I’ll make you swallow.” His pants and boxers fall in sync with each other. Before I can take a good look, he forces my head towards his crotch. I feel it, his penis rests inside my mouth. It’s flaccid, but it won’t be for long. “Bite it Dan!” I yell at myself, but no. I know the consequences. I’m in a much weaker state than Phil so even if I did bite it, he’d catch me after recovering from the pain and then I’m screwed even worse. I decide to go with the flow, It’s not like I’ve never given Phil oral before. I wrap my tongue around his flaccid penis and snake it down all the way to the base. It’s shaved just like mine allowing this to be a more pleasant experience. I allow my saliva to lubricate it and tickle the base and shaft with the tip of my tongue. I can feel it slowly getting bigger. I retract my tongue and push it up against the tip, allowing the saliva to seep inside his meat. Then I rest my tongue inside the meat of his penis sucking him from the inside out. I slowly and faintly swivel from side to side, in a way jacking him off from the inside of his penis. By now it’s at full length. I go in deeper allowing the penis to tickle the roof of my mouth and press on towards the back. I have no gag reflex so I’m perfectly okay with this. The soft underside of my lips nuzzle against the lower part of his shaft as my tongue curls around it, taking a brief respite only to continue on to snaking it’s way through the meat. I can feel Phil’s penis slowly rustle. He’s starting to cum so I switch gears. I take my right hand and grip his base rubbing it up and down in my mouth while my tongue viciously slithers all over. It leaves its wet marks all over the shaft and tip while my hands roughly rub against the base. His penis lurches, it pumps itself once, then twice, and then on the third time I feel the ejaculation slowly seep down my throat. I swallow, I allow the liquid to travel it’s way down my neck and into my stomach while my tongue cups the residue and lithers its way all over Phil’s dick. It finally stops and pull out slowly allowing a strand of saliva to rest on the tip of Phil’s penis. I lay back and smile at a job well done. Then look up hoping for a smile on Phil’s face. His hand quickly covers my face and squeezes against my head. He throws me onto the floor where my chains were and quickly dresses himself. I struggle to my feet allowing myself to regain my conscience but Phil is already there. He grabs my right arm and chains it. I decide not to fight back, what would it accomplish anyway? Phil would just overpower and torture me more. Soon, my entire body is chained, I’ve never felt so scared before but I swallow my fear. “So Phil,” I swallow, “what’s going on now?” Fear picks apart my insides and spoils my stomach. I feel like throwing up. He remains silent and grabs his whip. “NO…” I think. I know what he’s planning but how? I push thought of my mind but it gnaws itself at the back of my head. He unzips my pants, and rips off my underwear revealing my flaccid penis. It occurs in slow motion. The uncurling of the whip as it slices through the air. My visage of shock as I quickly shut my eyes hoping this is all a dream and the snap. The crack as the whip unleashes its wrath. It slaps me straight on against the base of my penis and manages to slap itself against my testicles. This is beyond pain. This is nothing I’ve ever experienced or imagined could happen to me. My penis burns and my testicles seem to go inside my body and shoot themselves throughout my insides. Metaphors can’t describe the sheer suffering I’m going through. The concentration of 1000 thousand suns all imploding into a black whole that sucks every joyous feeling I’ve ever had only to regurgitate themselves in a supernova of pain course throughout myself. I scream at the top of my lungs trying to express this sheer pain. I grate my vocal chords and end up choking on my own air causing me to cry out. The tears burn themselves on my cheeks as my anaerobic body is dealt with another smash against my genitalia. It tugs on every nerve in my body and explodes every synapse. My arms curl themselves in pain as the veins twist and convult to express my suffering. I hit the wall. It’s done now, I can’t go on. I pass out from the sheer shock of the pain. ….

I wake up laying on a cold white bed. I look up , there’s phil in a doctor’s uniform. A white light utterly blinds me causing my eyes to burn and express the pain with tears. I’m chained down. “Phil,” I ask, “Why….” Phil has a solemn expression in his eyes. He seems to mourn what he’s done. It’s so cute and pathetic I almost forgive him. Almost. “Dan… I love you. I love everything about you. Your smile, your personality, how you taste, how you feel, how you sound.” Tears stream down his cheeks and onto my body. “Dan, I can’t live without you.” At this point he’s heavily sobbing while he expresses his feelings. “It’s been a year and I can’t imagine life without you so… so I can’t let that happen. I’ll never let you go Dan.” His voice becomes grave and he starts to chuckle maniacally. “I’ll keep you here forever hahaha! We’ll be together and nothing you can do can stop me haha! I.. I hahaha… I AHAHAHA I LOVE YOU DAN! I’LL MAKE SURE YOU NEVER LEAVE ME DANIEL!” His eyes widen and his pupils dilate, he grins as his body cranes over mine. It’s not Phil anymore, it’s a monster. A demon. The living spawn of Satan ready to torture my soul for all eternity. He continues to laugh uncontrollably but I decide to break the madness. “But Phil… You can’t do this…” My breath is labored and I struggle to utter these words. “Why Dan? Explain it to me.” Phil says, chuckling. “Because Phil.. because…” “Because why?” He grows more insane by the minute. “Because…” I know what I’m going to say. It’s not a wise idea. The moment I utter these words the end of my life is nigh. I know I’m going to be a dead man, and I accept that. Despite this insanity I still love Phil. So I must say this no matter the consequence., “because…” “BECAUSE WHY DAN!” “BECAUSE GUYS CAN’T BE YANDERE PHIL!!!” (A.N: A yandere describes an anime character who is either psychotic or violent or both, and shows affection to the main character.) Silence. Complete and utter silence. I feel it, I feel Phil’s anger. His vehement wrath, his pure unmitigated hatred for what I just said. I don’t say anything next. I can’t. I can’t bring the courage. Instead I close my eyes and allow death to pass on. I feel Phil walk away. Why? Where’s he going? The apprehension in my stomach has never been this bad. This feeling is by far the worst thing I’ve ever felt. It burns from the inside out and freezes over only to burn me again. I sweat acid, I’m choking on nails, and my skin feels like it’s being violated by a cactus. Phil surely has the worst torture in mind for me. I’m on an operating table, he’s dressed as a doctor. I know what’s going to happen. Phil returns. He pulls my eyelids open to force me to witness what will happen to me. He keeps my eyes pried open with a special clip so I have a perfect view of my body. He takes a small stainless steel scalpel and makes a small incision on my neck. I feel the blood trickle and I feel something getting pulled. It feels like my brain is being ripped apart and then it snaps. My throat feels like it’s filled with liquid cement. I can breathe but I realized what he did. He ripped out my vocal chords so I can’t scream. Next I watch as he opens up my stomach and pulls out every organ in my body besides the vitals one I need to be kept alive. Slowly and painfully he rips them out and crushes them in his hands allowing the blood to fall back in my stomach. This goes on for thirty mintues, I don’t even need to put in detail the pain I feel. It’s unimaginable, undescribable, undeserving. Then is my face. With a small curled knife he pills off my lips slowly allowing the blood to seep its way in between my teeth. Then he opens my mouth up and pulls out each one of my teeth with what seems to be a mini crowbar. He snaps them in my mouth and then pulls them off. After my mouth he decides take the mini crowbar and pull off my nails slowly from my fingers. This isn’t hell. Hell isn’t as torturous as this. This incessant brutality, Phil isn’t Satan. He’s the sadistic king. He’s the utter epitome of pain and suffering. Once my nails are ripped off of my hands and feet he takes what seems to be a hefty rock hedge clipper. He places it around my arms and squeezes, breaking my bones by imploding them. It doesn’t cut my arms off but instead mangles and crushes them. After my arms he goes to my legs until nothing but mangled skin is left. He’s still not done yet, no he never is. He pulls out a rusty corkscrew and I know what he’s going to do with it. He jams it down my urethra and twists it inside my penis causing the inside of my meat to become shredded and minced. Bloodsquirts out from my dick and plasters itself on Phil but he’s not done there. Then he brutally pulls the corkscrew to the right ripping open that side of my penis just to run across my left testicle. It rips off the skin and causes my testicles to sag even more. Then he takes his clipper thing and crushes each testicle while its still attached only to use it to rip them off from my body. As I’ve said, this is purely undescribable pain. I show my mercy by allowing you to imagine this feeling. For two reasons. The first, I can’t put this torturous anguish into words. It’s literally impossible to describe every nuance of this brutality. And secondly, If I could truly describe to you this pain you, the sheer vehemence of this suffering would be enough to torture your body with mere words. So I’ll allow you to be able to give yourself the benefit of the doubt of this pure and unmitigated torture. Finally it’s almost over. But it only gets worse. Dan pulls out a box of mini spiders. My arachnaphobia kicks into hyperdrive. I want to scream and shout and writhe around and fear but I’m torturously disabled to. Dan signals to me almost telling me that he’s going to place the spiders down my throat but there’s one more thing he must do. He takes his clipper and places it on my eyeballs. He starts with the right, slowly squeezing it allowing the blood on it to seep into my retinas and burn me before he pops my eyeball. After the first one is popped he moves on to the second. The only soothing part about this is the blood that flows down my face. It feels serene compared to this hell. Finally he pops the second one. I’m almost done, death is almost here. I hear the box empty, the spdiers clog my throat and crawl inside my body. They scurry, scamper, and hustle throughout my insides sojourning in my throat while they bite at the insides, resting in my lungs, clawing at my heart, and festering in every nook and cranny. The ultimate pain, the uttermost infinite amount of torture that could ever be reached. This seems to be a physically impossible amount of pain but that’s it, Phil did it. He reached the level of a God, smiting me with the impossible apex of torture and suffering. How fuckin kinky. The spiders bite and bite allowing the blood to run black inside me. It’s strange, seconds before I die all of a sudden this is turned into a great joy. It’s like the pain dial was reversed and the uttermost indescribable joy filled my body. I feel happy, I don’t hate Phil. I love him, I truly do. Do I still seem like a sexually misunderstood teen to you? I don’t think I do. I think I won. I won love,. Pure unmitigated, vehement, unwavering love. And it tastes like joy. A palatable victory. Funny, this victory, this palatable euphoria tastes like cherries. Like sweet liquid cherries…

[vagabondreverie-blog]

Me, again. Week 1 of the rest of my life.

So, it's been a while guys. I think, ironically, and not with much coincidence, the last time I was active was around the start of my previous relationship. Well, that came and went, rather tumultuously and to provide me with new found anxieties. I am now in another relationship. Just a month old. Life is crazy...anyways, I came here to begin documenting this transition of my life. I am now 25 years old. I was going to say "of age" but I decided to not be an asshole. The week before my birthday I totaled my car while intoxicated. I was alone and hit a parked car head on while I was texting some douchebag that destroyed me for a bit. The wounds are still a bit fresh from that one... Anywho, I wrecked THE FUCK out of my car. The airbag deployed. The car did a 180. It wouldn't start and I didn't know why. The emergency lights wouldn't stop flickering. The horn wouldn't shut off. All I remember was trying to catch my breath and then being in an ambulance. I broke my hand and busted my knee up pretty well. I am entirely lucky that was all I received. No one else was involved or hurt, I did not receive a DUI, and I survived with little injury considering how my car faired. I didn't handle it well. The next few days I drank on what I later believe was a concussion. (If you are unaware, this is not a good thing) The accident occurred early Wednesday morning before the Saturday of my birthday. That Saturday I drank the entire day, had a ball, until I didn't. At a certain point of intoxication I have just begun becoming emotional, and hurt more than I should. Since my accident I feel as if my brain's molecular or chemical, I don't really know, structure has been altered. Whenever I go out drinking now I feel like someone being introduced to society for the first time. I'm terrified. Paranoid. I don't trust anyone and am also entirely petrified which then turns into anger. The closest thing I can equate it to is an animal that has been abandoned and became feral, and reacts to fear by lashing out. I am more acutely aware of how humans are and it makes me filled with rage. It sucks. I have been bartending for a few years now. I had made a little headway and a name for myself in the town where I live in the past year or so. It was pretty neat. Getting invited to make cocktails at different events and just making my own cocktails and serving them to people, it was rewarding. I know I sound like a rube right now, but, it was just a fast and exciting progression. I found myself rubbing shoulders with prominent restauranteurs who I in turn befriended. I somehow stumbled into becoming a networking queen. I would periodically laugh out loud at myself at events asking "what the fuck am I doing here?". The crafting and the reactions were what I loved...the...everything else...not so much. Whenever I went back to work bartending after my accident, there had been a month gap since I had been behind a bar. Keep in mind the way I have reacted while being out. So, I was absolutely enthralled to be a part of opening a restaurant, something I had never experienced, nonetheless at a place that is set up for complete success. But, whenever I stepped behind the bar, I felt nothing. I felt no excitement towards making cocktails, no pitter patter of my heart racing thinking of the possibilities and the chaos that comes with working busy nights; I felt empty. Although I would say "I'm so excited" because that's what I wanted to feel...I wasn't. I figured the more I said it, the more it would somehow do something psychologically to where my mind will think I actually am excited and adjust accordingly. The numbness quickly birthed a disgusting offspring of anxiety. A new anxiety I hadn't felt before. A crippling one. I quit bartending 3 weeks into soft openings. It was in a shitty way. And that's the only thing I am remorseful for. However, hear me out... I started working there because I believed the manager that hired me actually was serious and honest whenever he was speaking to me about his vision for the bar. I quickly realized after opening that his vision was to harass me constantly, either by being unnecessarily snarky or making sexual comments/touching me incessantly, and then to ask for my opinion on cocktails/for me to make after dinner drinks for prominent folk that came in, only to take the credit. During Christmas break, one night I took each knife out of my kitchen drawer one by one, testing their sharpness on the top of my forearm. I wanted to kill myself more than ever. And it was spurned from alcohol and guilt. That accident fucked me up. I told this manager about this. Told him that I should only work part time because I can't be around alcohol five nights a week right now, I just can't. I will die. I will kill myself one way or another. Either intentionally or unintentionally via binge drinking. I was crying out for help. But all I got back was "you're too talented, suck it up". I got this from several people. I do not say this as a brag, I say this in an absolutely appalled way. That people will put your "talent" or "potential" above your actual health and life. The next week I was scheduled 5 nights. It was as if everything I said was supposedly erased after the weekend. I just needed a breather? Tuesday I went in. I. Fucking. Hated. It. I was having rolling anxiety attacks. All I wanted to do was start drinking to quell it. I ended up drinking a couple of shots, having one beer after work and going to my significant other. The next day I dreaded going in. I miraculously was relieved to not have to go in because it was going to be a light night reservation wise. I was jubilant. My mood shifted completely whenever I received the message that I didn't have to come in. The following day I began to get ready for work. My hands began trembling so badly I sat down on the toilet looking at them and then looked over at my partner, with my face drained, and said "I can't do this. I can't go in. I can't do this anymore. I'm going to die". I was hurting. I texted my manager an hour before my shift saying a similar thing. Pride is weird. It convinces you that it's better to continue on a path of destruction rather than helping yourself and/or allowing others to help. Yes, I could try to continue on bartending while refraining from drinking, but that is easier said than done. And that isn't just the issue. Being behind a bar creates so much discomfort for me now, serving people alcohol eats away at my insides, for all I can think of is any negativity I am causing to them. They could drive home and hurt themselves/others, they could be abusive whenever they drink, they could be suicidal...any number of things that really are out of my control completely and I should not bother myself with the burden that is not mine. But I couldn't. I couldn't block it out. And that paired with my fragile sense of being being pummeled by unjustified and unwarranted harassment was too much. It wasn't an easy decision. And it will continue to be difficult. Just as self care is for me. This is the first weekend I have gone without drinking in...I can't even remember whenever the last full weekend was. This all being said...I am definitely not saying I am through with drinking or bartending forever, but I am monitoring myself. I even downloaded an app to track my drinking and urges. But, I am going to look forward. This is a good discomfort. And a great challenge I want to succeed at. Living. That's all I want to do. And by that, I mean, being present. I want to discover how to be present. Here we go.