#i swear to god its like being hit by a truck every single time i go on personality database to read what people fuckin say about den

[dennisboobs]

am periodically reminded of the fact that people see charden entirely different than me and i get scared, like who are these guys. that's not who lives in my head.

[firstkokon0is]

good 4 u chifuyu x f!reader

summary: you liked mikey since you saw him, and chifuyu your bestie knows about it but the thing is he also has feelings for you, what is he gnna do? keep on supporting you for mikey or tell his feelings

w: swearings, lil bit of angst but fluff in the end

“y/n, y/n!! oh man ur spacing out again” takemichi throws a little tantrum because you’re not being responsive

you cant focus well, mikey is just close by, with draken as usual.

god what should i do, i wouldn’t ran away again like the last time he approached me

you mentally panicked as mikey slowly approaching your way making every second slow for you

and its like…..

just like….

“yo! takemichy where ya going after school hmm??” with that your whole moment was destroyed, mikey just passed you by like you weren’t even there

im cursing you hanagaki takemichi who do you think you are!! what even are you and why you attach these people so muchh!!

those words of yours for takemichi never came out, he didn’t know that he’s being curse by now just because of mikey.

“oi y/n we need to go to chifuyu he’s taking us to baji-san’s place we’re gonna eat yakisoba” you didn’t even realize that mikey already left, you simply agree and followed him to chifuyu’s

you guys arrived on chifuyu and baji laughing at something, even tho they’re aware of you presences, you sat down beside chifuyu and takemichi sat down beside baji.

“woah you didn’t bring hina?” chifuyu started

“no she said she got a lot of assignments so…” takemichi replied

“whatta great boyfriend bruh, cant wait to be like this in the future” baji laughed

“yeah me too, well y/n why so quiet today huh” chifuyu turned his attention to you

“today sucks, fuck takemichi” you replied with a pout, then chifuyu looked at takemichi like he did something so bad

“tell me y/n did takemichi hit you?” chifuyu asked seriously while takemichi is quacking, scared as shit with a mix of confusion because, how did he made you feel bad

“nope, mikey ignored me for him, its my moment then he’s there im jealous why do you attach good looking boys so much takemichi, thats sus” you complained

“takeeemichiii sussyyy little bakaaa” said the very great troll baji, trying to make the situation more funnier, you laugh at his comment then imitates the among us theme as baji do the same

“nah seriously because takemichi attached me too” chifuyu suddenly commented, really making the situation into something funny

“ayo?” you and baji said in unison, looking at him while takemichi is just done, just fucking done

you guys walk and talk about some random shit, some teas about the famous people in your school until you guys arrived baji’s place, he’s home alone today so he invited you guys and eat yakisoba

chifuyu once again realized how quiet you are today, aside from earlier when you’re joking about among us with baji.

“you must be thinking alot about mikey-kun huh” chifuyu said, leaning his face on his palm and a small smile on his face

as much as he’s happy that you’re happy about mikey, the way when you see a glance of mikey you will smile, your smile is different with mikey, your smile reach heaven when its mikey.

but he also hates, when you’re realizing that mikey is not really interested, when you’re realizing you dont have a single chance, its just when you’re realizing, and someone like mikey wont give you the time and affection that you expected, while he, chifuyu himself can give you everything

but you wont even look at him

“yeah…” you responded thats it for both of you, you immediately changed the topic then baji and takemichi joined in the conversation, until you guys call it a day.

chifuyu offered to walk you home because its kinda dark now outside, plus some gangs might pull up randomly then beat you up for no reason

well that didn’t really happen, what im saying is when there’s chifuyu by your side that’s impossible.

“hey chifuyu…….lets say you like someone….even for you is it possible to like someone else? like you know they dont like you but are you gonna settle for that forever until they pick you because there’s no choice?”

that question hit him like a truck, he doesn’t know what to say, what to answer. especially you’re the one who asked him which made it so hard for him because its you, the one he likes but doesn’t like him back because there’s someone more better than him

“the fuck is that question” chifuyu said along with a chuckle trying to brush the question off, but he was responded with a silence, you were really serious about the question he thought.

“well uh….yes? but no too, because when u really like someone and you’re addicted to them, you tend to look fo them in a another person then lose feelings for them when you find something that isn’t similar to the person that you’re into”

he paused when you suddenly took his hand to go in the playground, both of you sat on a swing and you gave him a hum signaling that he can keep going

“so thats that, but being the second choice for the someone that i like is not bad…..yet heartbreaking because she cant get what she wanted, while i get what i wanted but not as i expected to be, y/n i dont wanna be a second choice my love is true its just i am not mike-” he was driven by his own words and emotions, didn’t even realize what he had said

he quickly turned his gaze to you with widen eyes, while you just look up the sky while smiling

“i see chifuyu……so you like me” you said

there are now tears building on chifuyu’s eyelids, until fat tears dropped down his cheeks, he doesn’t want you to know how he felt about you….because you will change

“okay, i’ve made my decision i am banned to say no to you chifuyu, but you need to prove me that you’re better than mikey, prove me that you can and will treat me right than mikey ”

you get off the swing and stand up, saying those words while looking at his teary yet shocked eyes

“good 4 you chifuyu, i am the one that you liked, i am not giving this opportunity just because i pity you, i am doing this because i know deep in my soul that you’re gonna treat me right, so prove it”

after those words a strong air blew that wiped chifuyu’s tears off his eyes, then he smirked also standing up and looked at you deep in the eyes

“y/n…..i just know you wont last long” he teased

“oh look who’s full of himself right now, just crying earlier because he accidentally confessed” you teased back earning a laugh from him

maybe he’s right, its the first time in a while that you didn’t think of mikey, just chifuyu

and maybe he’s right too, because by just the difference between him and mikey you know who to choose.

chifuyu.

[redrobin-detective]

Just one single glimpse of relief

TW: OC death, death themes

“Hey,” Sydnee looked up at the sound of the voice. It was familiar, safe, and it stopped her tears for a moment. She can’t remember where she was or what she’d been doing. All she knew was that she was scared and upset and didn’t know what to do. It felt like she’d been crying forever when the voice appeared. “Hey there, it’s Phantom. Can I come closer?”

Sydnee gasped as the town hero, Phantom, approached her slowly. Syd was a bit of a nerd and she couldn’t get enough of those superhero movies. She always tuned in to Phantom’s fights on TV; he was as close as she’d get to a real life Superman or Captain Marvel. She’d never seen him up close before though. He was younger than he appeared on TV, not more than his early teens. Sydnee, almost 24, was hit by a wave of mortification over how they’d described the hunky, we-thought-he-was-older kid on Margarita Night. This day just got better and better, not that she remembered it.

“How are you doing?” Phantom asked quietly, floating near her but not getting too close. He was watching her warily but not unkindly. She saw how some folks treated him, he was probably worried she’d throw a shoe at him. “What’s your name?”

“Sydnee, with an extra e not a y. Uh Tanner, Sydnee Tanner,” she mumbled. Ugh why were words so hard. Her head felt fuzzy and very far away, she thinks she was going to start panicking again. What was she even so upset about? “I don’t know what’s going on. Where are we and what happened. I don’t- I don’t remember anything.”

“It’s okay,” he said soothingly, floating a little closer. The soft glow he emitted brightened up the dark place they were in. Was she in a collapsed tunnel? What had she been doing here? She’d never been claustrophobic but the debris and rubble of the place seemed to close in on her. “Hey, hey, just look at me.” She turned and met his kind eyes, soft and easy. “We’ll walk through it together. What is the last thing you remember?”

“I was late to work,” Syd said, the memory popping up before her. “I um work at the Donut Delights bakery in that strip mall next to the middle school. My cats had knocked over some of my houseplants in the night so I had to clean them up and was running behind. I open the store on Wednesdays - oh it’s Wednesday! - so I knew I’d be in trouble. But I made it, just barely. I was starting up the ovens when.” Syd furrowed her brow and took in the hero before her. The one who was almost never seen outside a fight. “There was a ghost attack, wasn’t there?”

“Welcome to Amity Park,” Phantom said grimly. “I’ve been here a couple times; the jalapeno bacon topped donuts are my favorite. My mom and sister buy them sometimes if they want to bribe me into doing something.”

“You weirdo, only crazy people eat that weird flavor,” Sydnee chuckled. “You have a family?”

“Of course, we all have a family out there somewhere. What about you?” He asked gently. There was something about the soft way he was talking to her, the way his eyes flickered around the dark like he was looking for something. He had news he didn’t want to tell her and she wasn’t ready to hear it. Not yet. Just a few more minutes of denial before she faced the revelation she couldn’t bear to touch yet.

“Yeah, mom and dad and two younger sibs. Folks divorced forever ago, I barely remember them actually being together. Mom is is living it up in Dubai working as a pastry chef in one of their fancy hotels. Dad’s an auto-mechanic down on Maple street, Duke’s Car Services. Pretty sure you got tossed through the window a year ago.”

“I’ve been tossed through many windows but I know the place you’re talking about. So a big family, any friends? Boyfriends? Girlfriends?”

“I have a boyfriend,” she continued on hastily, taking the distraction for what it was. “I like him, a lot and we’ve been dating since high school. Everyone says I should marry him and we’ve talked about it, casually, but I’ve never dated anyone else and wonder if I should see other people first. You know, test the waters before I settle down with my high school sweetheart like my folks did and look how they turned out.”

“Mhmm,” Phantom hummed nodding, encouraging her to continue.

“DeShawn is great though, he’s very supportive and sweet in his own kind of absentminded way. He’s got epilepsy real bad though, I have to drive him everywhere since he’s always at risk of a seizure. Annoying sometimes but its nice, you can learn a lot about a person from a conversation while you’re alone together.”

“Very true, I’m learning a lot now,” Phantom smiled. “What about your siblings?”

“I have a brother and a sister, Kennedy is finishing his sophomore year of college and Janelle will be a senior in high school. She was a surprise baby, one last attempt of my parents to reconcile before the big D. It didn’t help but I got a great sister out of it, she’s a real firecracker.”

“Janelle,” Phantom’s eyes lit up. “She’s the one always dying her hair. I see her in the hallways of Casper, she’s hard to miss. I think she draws too, she won an art award I think.”

“Yeah!” Sydnee said enthusiastically, she reached out and grabbed ahold of Phantom’s arm. It was cold but solid. It reminded her that she really couldn’t feel anything, nothing but him. “Yeah, I swear her hair is a new color every time I see her. It’s a dark purple now, it looks pretty good on her. She was a peachy orange for picture day last year. Mom called her up screaming when she saw the photos.”

“I thought it looked cool,” Phantom grinned, “not that I was there for picture day. Ghost attack, you know. My mom was upset with me too.” They laughed lightly for a minute before it gently petered off leaving them alone in the dark. Sydnee didn’t have any feeling in her toes, in any part of her. She felt light and disconnected and all over out of sorts. She was pretty sure she knew what had happened but she couldn’t face it yet. But talking to Phantom, it seemed a little easier.

“I remember the attack now,” Sydnee stated quietly. “It was a big ghost bear only it was the size of a pickup truck. It rammed into the store there was chaos and screaming. It was so loud, the screaming of the customers, the bear, building coming down on top of us...” her lips wobbled. “We’re still in the store, aren’t we? I haven’t wanted to turn around because... because I know my body is buried underneath the concrete back there.”

“Yeah,” Phantom breathed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t get here in time. Most everyone in the area got out but you and a few others in the store got trapped under the rubble. Mrs. McDaniels who lived on Eustis street and was the first woman in her family to go to college plus Eddie Drake who came down from Chicago to check out the ghost stuff with their boyfriend and was a tattoo artist.”

“Did you talk to them too?” She questioned in surprise.

“Briefly, Mrs. McDaniels didn’t stay long, just long enough to tell me, and I quote, “stop wasting time on her dead ass and get to the others.” She already passed on. Eddie, they didn’t take it well. We talked for a while and I think they need a little more time to accept it, see their loved ones first. I warned them that the longer they delay death, the harder it is and the more you lose yourself. You’re the last, all the way in the back of the store. When you’re ready, I’m going to bring your body out.”

“Thank you,” she whispered before breaking out into hysterical laughter. “God I bet I’m a wreck, I think I put my shirt on inside out I was in such a rush this morning,” she sniffled. “What do I do now, as a ghost? I don’t have to, like, attack people, do I?”

“No,” Phantom sighed. “Most ghosts are just normal people, no one else but other ghosts will see you and you’re not going to be strong enough to interact with the real world for a long, long time. You can stick around a bit if you want, watch over your family but it’s like I told Eddie, you forget things pretty quick. Or you can move on, that part I can’t help you with but I’ve helped a lot of others go that route and I’m told it’s easy.”

“Easy, then why haven’t you?” She questioned angrily, the full weight of the situation crashing over her. She shoved him and he floated back passively. “I’m a freaking ghost and you’re here talking to me like you’re my therapist or something. Who’s gonna take DeShawn to his appointments? Or praise my sister’s creative messes? Or badger Ken into picking major? My life is over and you think you can float there and lecture me about it being easy to move on!”

“I didn’t mean it that way,” Phantom soothed, scratching at the back of his neck. “I’m so sorry Sydnee, I wish I could turn back the clock an hour, two hours, and prevent this from happening but I can’t. I’ve tried to mess with time and it doesn’t end well for anyone. I just want, I just want what’s best for you now. You can stay or you can go but I want you to make the decision that you feel most comfortable with. That’s all I can do for you.”

“I think I’d be sad,” she said, crying again, “being able to see everyone but not talk to them, to watch them cry over me. I don’t want to forget them either.” Phantom watched her, easily and earnestly. “What made you choose to stay? Why didn’t you go?”

“I’m a little complicated but I can tell you, when I’ve done all I need to here, I’m not hanging around a second longer than I have to. Being a ghost has it’s perks but it’s also, it’s being stuck in a place you longer fit, watching the world go on without you.”

“Okay,” Syd hiccupped. “Okay, yeah okay.”

“Okay,” Phantom nodded. “Do you want me to leave?”

“No, please don’t,” she grabbed his hands again. “Please I don’t, I know I died alone but I don’t want to do... this alone. Please stay, ugh, calling you Phantom is weird sorry.”

“I don’t know if it’s any less weird but you can call me Danny,” Phantom, Danny, laughed. It was an ordinary name for a superhero but it fit. There was a special thrill in knowing the ghost boy’s name but it’s not like she was going to be around to tell anyone. It was scary, to think of not existing but also sort of comforting, like a long nap with nothing pressing to get up for.

“Can you tell them that I love them, in my place? I know it’s a lot and I’m sure you’re super busy saving the town and everything-”

"It’s not a problem. I’m sure they know but I’ll be happy to pass on the message,” he smiled and it made him look so young. For a second she was struck by how sad it was that she was relying on a kid a decade younger than her for support. But he was here and he was kind and he was what she needed right now. Maybe one day, he’d have his own person talking him through this last step. 

“Okay, Danny, thanks really. For talking, for staying. I’m scared but I, I think I’m ready.” She closed her eyes and squeezed his hands tightly. “Do you, will it hurt?”

“No,” he said, his voice warm despite his inherent chill. “No, Sydnee. No, the hurting is all over now. All you have left ahead of you is peace. Thank you for all that did, you’ll be missed.”

“I’ll see you on the other side. Goodbye.” The world faded to a pinprick, consumed by light. The last thing she saw before she went into it was a stranger’s smile. 

XxX

“Here’s the last,” Phantom said solemnly, delicately setting a broken body he’d carried out of the dilapidated building and on the sidewalk next to the others. “This is Sydnee Tanner, she was the only employee in the store at the time. She has cats at home who will need taking care of. Her dad works at Duke’s Car Services along with siblings and a boyfriend.”

“Don’t know how you know all that but thanks for getting these folks out,” Sheriff Newton sighed. “Damn shame. Keep up the good work kid, we’ll save the next ones for sure. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some rather unhappy news to break to several people.”

“Do you mind if I tag along? I have a few messages I need to pass on.”

[ithebookhoarder]

Man’s Best Friend (Javier Peña x GN!Reader)

Description: Living in Colombia, you’d come to expect the unexpected. That didn't mean, however, that Javi wasn't able to still surprise you from time to time. And finding a dog on your couch, next to a bleeding Javi? Well, yeah, that was a pretty big surprise. 

Warnings: Swearing, reference to smoking, references to injuries, blood, references to violence, references to death. (Let me know if I missed anything)

Masterlist:

----------

“What is that?”

“A dog.”

“I can see it’s a dog, Javi!” you screeched, staring at the fluffy offender sat at your feet. “What’s it doing in our flat?” 

Javi was rarely speechless, yet the way he went silent was almost incredible. Even for him. It was like he was too scared to even try and explain what the adorable animal was doing in your home, wagging their tail and gazing up at you with their big brown eyes. 

Two brown eyed boys? Oh god. You were doomed. 

“We … we can’t keep it. We can’t have a dog.” 

“I know, I know,” Javi babbled, hands raised in defence. “But hear me out, ok? It was fate.”

“Fate?”

“Yes! I was chasing a suspect after a bust today, and as I was running down an alley, this dog came out of nowhere. Like, nowhere, hermosa, and it knocked me over-“

You tried not to laugh at the image that suddenly came to mind of your normally composed partner, legging it down the street in his aviators, only to face plant the floor after tripping over a dog. This dog too - an average sized furball of all things.

No wonder Steve had spent all afternoon laughing. It also explained the impressive gash on Javi’s forehead. 

“-wait, is that why you’re bleeding?”

“-yes, but that’s not important.” 

“Ooook.” You’d still be finding the first aid kit after this conversation, no matter what he said. “If you say so. Continue.”

Javi rolled his eyes, but did, reaching out to gently pat the top of the dog’s head. 

“As I was saying… this dog tripped me, and I was initially ready to shoot it, but as I looked up, I saw the guy I was chasing run into the road only to get hit by a truck. A fucking truck, carino. A truck that would have hit me too if I’d been following but this dog… it saved me.”

As if able to understand the praise being heaped upon it, the dog yipped, grinning ear to ear in agreement. The fact it wagged its tail so fast you thought it was ready to take off, made the whole thing even more adorable. 

“I mean, it saved my life, Y/N,” Javi explained, sounding more passionate than you’d ever heard him before. It was odd, considering this was the man who barely batted an eyelid at anything. Normally he would just sigh and smoke a cigarette, hiding his emotions behind his signature yellow aviators. “It was a divine miracle or some shit, but he saved me and I couldn’t just leave it on the street. Look at him. He’s all skin and bone. He saved one of America’s finest. Idiots have got medals for less, so a warm place to sleep is the least I can give him.” 

Right. 

Had Javi hit his head harder than he’d realised? 

You could barely take it all in, let alone believe it. The story was almost too fantastical to believe. However, whether or not the story was exaggerated, one thing was clear and that was that Javi had almost been hurt. Or even killed.  

You’d always known life down here working for the DEA was dangerous. Hell, you faced death every single day. But there was something harrowing about the idea that something as mundane as being hit by a truck had almost taken the life of the man in front of you… The man you loved. 

Maybe it had been divine intervention, or maybe it had just been the most freaky and well timed coincidence of your lives. Still, Javi was right that you owed his life to this dog.

But taking it in? Keeping it? 

It didn't help that the dog chose that moment to brush against your leg and glance up at you with shining brown eyes. He was all skin and bone, and it made your heart ache at the obvious neglect he’d suffered. Who knew how long he’d been out there on the streets, fending for himself. 

Fuck. You couldn’t be heartless enough to kick him back out. 

You groaned. 

“Ok. I… I’m gonna need a second to get this all straight, Javi. I mean, this is insane, you realise that?” you whined, dropping onto the couch and burying your head in your hands. 

Was he feeling that guilty about this? Was that why he wanted to keep it? A sense of obligation? 

“When is anything in our lives not insane?” 

“Oh, mi amor,” you began, sitting up a little straighter in your seat, almost the way a parent would when delivering bad news to their child. “We… we can’t have a dog, and trust me, I’d love one. I love dogs.”

You did and he knew it. As it was, you’d grown up with a large German Shepherd who’d been your best friend throughout your childhood. When he’d died a few years before, it had been like you’d lost a family member. 

“So why not keep it?”

“Because we’re never here, Javi,” you scoffed, as if it should have been obvious. “We work insane hours and… and you saw what happened to Steve and Connie’s cat. I don’t want this dog to be at risk because we chose him.” 

“After what happened with Steve’s cat there’s no way a Sicario would hurt our pet. They learned that a pet is still a DEA pet and we come through for our own,” Javi grinned, as if it was hilarious. Then again, that had been one of the most absurd moments of your careers down here. 

“That still doesn’t change the fact we might be working late and can’t be home to feed it or take it for a walk-”

“Well,” Javi grinned, looking way too excited about this, as if he’d figured out where Escobar himself was hiding. His hands reached for yours as turned you to look at him. “You see, hermosa, I already talked to Louisa downstairs - the one with the two kids we see all the time going to school and stuff.” 

“And?”

“And she saw me bringing this old boy here inside, and started telling me how her kids want a dog but it’s a big responsibility-“

You smirked. “It is.”

“-But one she would be happy to teach her kids about,” Javi grinned. “She said if we ever wanted it, they can feed him or watch him when we’re busy. She even said she’d walk it sometimes, when she gets back from work for lunch. That way they can practise without the responsibility of having him full time.”  

Seriously? It was almost too good to be true. You loved Louisa and her two young bundles of joy known as the twins. Ten years old, the boys were sweet and would more than likely love the opportunity to spoil a dog rotten and play with them after school. 

"I don't know," you sighed, lifting you eyes back to his. The fact the dog whined, pressing his head against your knee was almost as if he had rehearsed it. "Maybe?... Like you said... And maybe... I mean, if Louisa doesn’t mind helping out…”

A grin split across his face. "I love you. You won't have to do anything you don't want to."

 "Won't I?" you mused with a half smile, half frown. You’d almost agree to keep the dog just for the pleasure of watching Javier Peña actually pick up dog poop. You would be taking photos for Steve to enjoy, that was for sure. "Let's just see how it goes first. Give it a week or so, and then we discuss this some more.” 

“Thank you… you won’t regret it. I promise. Lucky and I already talked about behaving.”

“Lucky? You named it?”

Javi chuckled. “I thought it fit.” 

It did, to be honest and… Oh shit. You knew you’d be in love with this dog before the week was even out. 

“Welcome to the family, Lucky.”

[xiaoderys]

❝ Saturated Sunrise ❞ (l.dh, n.jm) I

DISCONTINUED

pairing: haechan x reader, jaemin x reader

genre: crack, fluff, angst, possible smut soulmate!au, college!au, social media!au mixed WITH narrative

warnings: swearing, slightly suggestive with possible smut in future chapters

word count: 2.5K

parts: prologue , character-profile, I

synopsis: you gradually lose your ability to see colors as you fall out of love with donghyuck

you were red and you liked me because I was blue. but you touched me and suddenly was a lilac sky. then you decided purple just wasn't for you.

You’ve always loved the rain, unlike your boyfriend who would squirm whenever a single drop touches his golden skin, but then again, who could blame him? he was like the sun; a ball of roaring fire that could never learn to love its polar opposite. But you on the other hand, could never hate it even if you tried, there was just something about it, maybe it’s the tranquility of it, the smell, the aesthetic or the fact that it brings you back to the very night you met Hyuck.

It’s quite funny really, you’d think these only happened in movies and tv shows yet there you were, soaking wet and walking side by side with a boy you barely knew under an umbrella that barely covered you both.

You sighed deeply while looking through the glass windows of the convenience store and up at the dark sky, the rain was pouring and you figured it won’t be stopping any time soon.

You didn’t have your umbrella with you but it was already past 10pm so after a few minutes of internally arguing with yourself, you got out of your seat, walked out and pulled your bag above your head to somehow shield yourself from the rain.

new instagram post from Donghyuck, 1 new text from mom, 6 new notifications from bible study

open? Yes / No

As you took your first few steps outside, you heard the bell ring from behind you, signaling that there was someone going in/out of the store.

You didn’t mind it at first but you heard someone yell “Hey, wait up!” no one else was around so you assumed the person was calling out for you and stopped in your tracks.

You turned around to look and just as you do, a car sped right in front of you which caused the rain water from the ground to be splashed all over you.

“Well, fuck” you exhale.

You lowered the bag covering your head as you were already soaking wet from head to toe and wiped your dripping face swearing to yourself that the universe hated you.

As soon as the car passed, the person on the other side of the road, jogged towards you and adjusted his umbrella over your head “What the hell were you thinking?”

You were quite confused as to why this person was suddenly scolding you so you just furrowed your brows at him.

“Walking home without an umbrella in this weather? Are you stupid?”

“Well what do you want me to do? spend the night at 7-eleven?” you didn’t mean to respond with sarcasm but you just got soaked with rain water and this guy who was nagging you while talking just called you stupid which did not help you and your anger issues.

“Better than ending up looking like a wet dog that just played in the mud but I think it’s a little too late for that” he said as he looked you up and down.

“Hey, it’s not my fault! that guy was driving like he’s in grand theft auto!”

“Well if you just stayed back in the store and waited for the storm to at least calm down a little bit then you wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place and I wouldn’t have had to leave my delicious cup of ramen in there all alone” he raised his brow acting as if he made a point.

“No one asked you to do that”

“No one asked me to be so unbelievably hot either but here I am”, you scoffed at his sudden cockiness but you’d rather eat your own arm than feed a man’s ego so you looked at him with a distasteful expression “Just go back to your ramen, I can handle myself”

“Lies. You’ll freeze to death before you could even get half-way home. Here, take this” he took off his jacket and handed it to you.

The cold wind mixed with rain and your wet clothes hit you like a truck bigger than your ego but your stubbornness still got the better of you “I-I don’t need it”

“you’re literally shivering like a little puppy”, he was right but are you going to admit to that? No.

“I bite into my ice cream without feeling a thing and sleep right in front of the air conditioner, I think I’ll be fine”

He poked his tongue in his cheek, showing his annoyance “Why do you have to be so difficult? you’d rather walk home freezing than put your pride aside for a second?” the angrier he got while scolding you, the more he talked in a pout so instead of scaring you into listening, you actually found it a little cute—

“Hey, are you listening?!” thunder struck all of a sudden which made you flinch and Donghyuck swore right then and there that you were the most adorable thing in existence.

After seeing you jump from the thunder, his expression softened and suddenly the rain was pouring heavier than before and you were shivering like crazy. He sighed, and put his jacket over your shoulders himself.

You were gonna take it off and give it back to him but he stopped you “if you take that off, I’ll kiss you” normally, you would love to challenge a bluff but you couldn’t take it anymore, it was so cold and you had no other choice, so you mumbled a quick “fine” and although it didn’t help much, you did feel a lot warmer.

He smiled at you, satisfied with your decision “Great, so where are we headed?”

“We?” you looked up at him confused

“mhmm, were you just expecting me to give you my umbrella and let you go home with my adidas track top?” he said with a ridiculing expression

“pretty much, yeah”

“This is my only umbrella and that jacket costs over a $60, I’m not letting you walk away with it just like that and besides, there are loads of creeps out here”

“$60 for a jacket this thin?” you held up the sides of the jacket wondering how a jacket so thin could cost more than your weeks worth of allowance.

“Yeah, it’s a bit off a rip-off, but that’s not the point, dummy. I’m your only option of getting home safe wether you like it or not”

“You don’t even know me, why do you care so much if something happens?“

“My gentleman nature is truly my biggest flaw-“ you rolled your eyes and turned around, ready to walk away but he held your shoulders back “ah ah, hold on! My mom would never forgive me if she found out I left a girl all alone to walk home in the rain”

You sighed “Fine but no talking, I’ve already used up all my social juice for the day” he nodded cutely and snuggled beside you.

You didn’t get the chance to think about it but he looked around your age and appeared to be a student as well, considering the fact that he wore a tracksuit and was carrying a backpack.

You tried to catch a glimpse of his face every now and then and you weren’t gonna lie, he definitely wasn’t bad looking.

Being a little shorter than him, it gave you the opportunity to study his side-profile; his jaw was quite defined and his features were really soft and he had these insanely fluffy cheeks oh- and you also noticed his plump lips that made it look like he was always pouting.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer” he said with a straight face, not even bothering to look in your direction.

“What?” you widened your eyes, blood rushing to your cheeks due to embarrassment.

“What? you think I haven’t noticed you staring at me for the past five minutes? you’re practically undressing me with your eyes” he playfully rolled his eyes.

You slapped his arm “No, I wasn’t! what’s wrong with you!”

He let out a chuckle, finding your annoyance and the way you turn red when embarrassed very amusing but you on the other hand just stayed with a pout and furrowed brows.

Donghyuck soon realized that you haven’t caught each other’s name yet “so what’s your name?”

“I thought I said no talking”

“Come on, small talk won’t hurt you”

I guess it’s better than walking in awkward silence “I’m y/n”

“Cute. I’m Donghyuck“ he smiled.

Since you were making small talk, you decided to ask about him more “if you don’t mind me asking, are you still a student?”

“A high school junior, yes, you?”

“Oh my god! same!” Donghyuck noticed how you got a little too excited over something so little but little did he know, that your childlike nature was just a sample of your many unforgettable qualities.

“Really? your height is making me think otherwise”

“Hey! My height is average!” you stopped and started to get defensive.

“And it’s not like you could talk, you’re not even that much taller!” that was a lie, he stood a good 7 inches taller than you making him the perfect height to give you forehead kisses.

“Okay mike wazowski, let’s keep it moving”

“Are you really trying to get me mad?!”

You looked so cute with your brows knit together and mouth forming a thin line that Donghyuck just couldn’t help but laugh “No offense but I literally feel like I’m being threatened by a cupcake”

“Do you want to fight?!” and just like that, Donghyuck found his new favorite hobby: annoying the living hell out of you.

“Pftt, what are you gonna do? eat my kneecaps?” he rolled his eyes.

“You know what, take your umbrella, I’m going home on my own!” You were ready to leave and he chuckled “Come onnnnn, I’m just kidding, it’s already-“ he checked his phone for the time “10:57 and I have to be home by midnight”

“Who are you? Cinderella?”

“Yeah but I’m much prettier and charming plus I have a mom who will eat me alive if I stay out too late so let’s get going”

“okay but you have to promise to stop teasing me”

“Alright. I’ll try” and with that you huffed continued with your walk home

You didn’t want to admit it but you really enjoyed Donghyuck’s company, there was just a natural sense of familiarity with him which made you feel at ease.

He would talk about the most random things but no matter what they were, he always found a way to put a smile on your face.

He even talked about his little puppy at home who probably misses him which made you feel bad because the puppy must be so sad right now and here you are, taking up too much of Donghyuck’s time.

You were both so into these conspiracy theories that you didn’t even notice that thirty minutes have passed and you were right in front of you house.

“Well, uhm, this is me” you smiled softly.

“Oh then I guess I’ll get going now” he responded, getting ready to go home.

“Wait uh- thanks for you know, walking me home and stuff.. I’m really sorry for being rude earlier” you looked at the ground, feeling ashamed of how you acted earlier when he was only trying to help.

He chuckled, ruffling your hair “It’s fine, I won’t exactly be very happy either if I got ground water splashed all over me while it’s 10 degrees outside, but you do owe me a cup of ramen”

“Oh come on, that probably only costed like a dollar or something” you whined

“3$ actually and it was a really delicious cup of ramen so I’m gonna have to get your number because I’m not letting this one slide” if Donghyuck was being honest, he couldn’t give two fucks about the ramen; normally, he’d be really mad about it but the fact that he can use it as an excuse to get your number, made up for it.

“fine” and that was how it all started.

Now, you could’ve called a cab that night or asked someone to come pick you up but you didn’t. Call it fate or your brain just wasn’t working at the time but you sure as hell know it happened for a reason because that’s what brought Hyuck to you.

There are forces in the universe that we don’t understand, measurable forces that can’t be explained but also can’t be denied and nobody gets it but maybe that’s what it was because right here, right now you’re with a distressed Donghyuck because you both forgot your umbrellas and have to take shade under an oak tree.

He hated the rain, he would squirm every time it hit his skin yet he still gave up his jacket to cover you. He continued to scold you because quite frankly, you stopping to pet every single stray animal you saw was the reason why you got caught in the middle of the rain anyway.

“You know, one of these days, one of those strays will bite or scratch you and you’re gonna get rabies” there he was again with his lips in a pout, annoyed by the continuous droplets of rain meeting his golden skin.

“Hmm maybe, but until then, I’m gonna stop to pet every single one I see because all of them deserve love and attention. You know, if it were up to me-“ he cut you off “You’re gonna adopt all the stray animals in the world and take care of them, I know. You literally never fail to mention that” you smiled at how he always seems to never listen to you yet he remembers the little things. But then you noticed that he was shivering “are you cold? do you want your jacket back?”

“no, I’m fine” he exhales.

You furrowed your brows and looked at him with worry and of course he noticed.

“Baby, I’m fine, I swear, all this sexual tension between us from being so close together is enough to keep me warm”

You playfully hit his arm and he chuckled “No, seriously, keep it, you need it more than me” oh, he hated it, he hated it so so much. He wanted to be anywhere with you but there but he wasn’t gonna admit to that and he didn’t want you to worry.

Youu started to talk in a pout, a habit you unconsciously picked up from your boyfriend whenever you were worried “but you’re shivering, can we at least share it?”

Donghyuck knows the jacket would never fit the both of you but he also knows that you’re not one to give up easily, it’s one of his most favorite things about you, except when you’re arguing or playing games because you’re both egotistical assholes yet you’re the only one who can put him in his place and the only one he sets his pride aside for.

You looked at him snuggled right beside you, trying his best to not let the rain touch you and despite the situation being unfavorable, right at this exact moment, everything just felt right and you know you were supposed to be here.

[mummybear]

Haunting His Dreams

Words: 2110

Warnings: Swearing (Of course), heavy drinking, mentions of major character death.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x OC (Izzy)

Characters: Dean Winchester, OC, Sam Winchester, Mentions Of Metatron, Mentions Of Demon Dean

Summery: After Dean is cured of being a demon he finds that the love of his life has moved on from him and the bunker, things had been to painful for her after he died and she wanted out. How will he handle it? Will he ever see her again?

A/N: Okay guys so this is for @impala-dreamer‘s Make me feel it challenge. So this will be a two parter, so for this first part I chose the song Happier by Ed Sheeran (Link to song here)

It had only been mere weeks since the black had faded from Dean’s eyes, even less time since he’d managed to rid himself of the mark. Yet all the drinking In the world couldn’t drown out the pain he had from losing her, the day that he’d died he’d lost so much more than his life and his soul. 

When he’d woken as a demon, he quickly found out she’d left, he had buried it immediately. Behind other people’s blood, other people's pain and all the damn violence that he could inflict. After all, he couldn’t feel anything, not for the love of his life, not for his little brother Sam nor anything else for that matter.

The marks rage burned through his entire body, everything that made him who he was, it was still there, somewhere deep down inside him, but he just didn’t care. Instead as a demon, every bad part of him, every part that he didn’t want to have to admit to himself existed, was just amplified beyond reason but he liked it. There was part of human Dean that liked being numb, the demon liked the power, having no feelings to hold him back from doing what he wanted and needed to do at that time.

Then Sam had brought him back to the bunker, and he’d cured him. Everything he’d been fighting against, every feeling of guilt, pain and anguish rushed right back to the surface and hit him like a speeding fucking truck.  When he’d asked where she was, it was almost like he knew what Sam was going to say to him, even before he’d said it. Yet hearing it out loud, it was so much worse than he could’ve ever imagined, she was gone but only from the hunting life. Although from what they knew she was happy, managing to stay hidden so far as Sam knew. But she was alive at least and that was how Dean wanted her to stay.

There was no way in hell that Dean was going to drag her back into this life, put her in danger again, not when she was finally safe. No matter just how much it ripped him apart inside. And it did, every single second of every damn day. Like there was a black hole in his fucking chest, like a new wound opened every time he opened his eyes.

Of course, that was the other part of the problem. Every time he closed his eyes he saw hers staring right back at him, the way her smile would light up the entire damn room. Like nothing else he’d ever seen before. Some nights the only way he could get to sleep was to curl up in a ball and cry. He’d throw and smash things, punch and kill things but nothing helped, not even a little bit, not even for a second. He’d tried to hide it from Sam, but if anyone knew Dean better than he knew himself it was his brother. 

So, every time he left the bunker, he’d made sure to at least have a flask with him, it didn’t even matter if it was the cheapest shit on earth anymore, literally anything to block out the pain. Pretty much any and all feelings really. He just couldn’t think about it anymore, his old life. But the main reason was that he couldn’t think about her anymore. Who she was with, what she was doing. If she was missing him as much as he was missing her, if she ever thought about him anymore.

Sam had told him to just go, go and find her. He had practically begged him. Told him to tell her that he was back, that he was okay, explain everything that had happened to him while she was away. 

But as Dean sat there in a small booth at some run down bar in town, he found himself looking out the slightly dirty window. The park across the street was full of laughing screaming kids. Not to mention all of the couples that were holding hands and laughing, that had never been them not that they didn’t want that, they just couldn’t have that life together. But they had been happy, happier than he had ever remembered feeling in his whole miserable life.

Which is why as he sits here looking out of this window, he tries not to but he thinks about her, everything they might’ve had but now they never can, never will. 

Then it happens. He sees her, she’s smiling and laughing with some guy, one of her arms is looped through one of his. That black hole in Dean’s chest is ripped open once more, it hurts more than he ever thought imaginable, so much more than when that angel blade was plunged in his chest. Then he realises that he can’t swallow, the massive lump that forms in his throat is back and it won't go away. A tear falls from his eye, quickly followed by another. Those green eyes that were once so bright, and yet now they’re so dull. Squeezing his eyes shut tight, he fights to blink them away. Roughly clearing his throat, he swallows that lump finally with a gulp of his liquor, which burns its way painfully down his throat.

Dean’s heart is thundering his chest as she walks closer to the door of the bar where he sits, in his corner booth hidden. The love of his life, just meters away and there’s not a thing that he can do about it. He can’t pull her into his arms like he used to kiss her, tell her everything is gonna be okay. He can only watch her from the sidelines and it’s so much worse than hell on earth. 

Standing from his chair when they walk inside, he manages to slip out the back unseen. Throwing his back against the wall, he takes a deep shaky breath once he feels he can breathe again. The cold air bites at the tear tracks on his cheeks and burns the back of his throat. Quickly he wipes the tear tracks away and he walks away from that bar. Vowing that he will never go there again. He can’t stand it, being so close yet not being able to have her.

A few days pass in a blur of hunting and drinking. They finally get back to the bunker and Dean can’t stop his mind from wandering. Under his eyes is still a mix of red and blue from lack of sleep, since he’d seen her everything had just gotten that much harder. But he wants this for her, he needs this for her. She’s happy and seeing her smile the other day was almost worth the pain he’s in right now.

Then he remembers her face, the day that he was stabbed with the angel blade by Metatron. Unfortunately, he remembers it like it was yesterday. 

The second that angel blade had been pushed through his chest, he remembers how it slid in his chest like butter, little to no resistance. She and Sam had ran in just in time to see it happen. He remembers the way that she’d screamed his name, running up to him and falling down on her knees beside him. As Sam forced a handkerchief to his chest, she had held his hand so tight as she sobbed, pressing those soft kisses to his cheek that he loves. Telling him that everything was going to be okay and god did he want to believe her. Both her and Sam were doing their best to convince him he was getting out of this. 

He remembers the next words he’d said, like they were said yesterday. The look on hers and his brothers face. “It’s better this way” He had ignored Sam and his girl as they’d tried to stop him talking. “The mark. It’s making me into something I don’t wanna be” 

Sam had refused to listen, of course he had, Dean expected nothing else. Sam had helped him to his feet and Dean could feel the blood filling his throat as he stood. Could even feel it beginning to leak from his lips. The look of fear in her eyes silently said that she’d seen it too. 

What he had said next were the last words he spoke and they were so true, “I’m proud of us” and he really was. He turned to her then the best he could, she tried to smile between the tears. “I love you Dean Winchester” she sobbed pressing a kiss to his bloodied lips. He didn’t have time to reply, he’d died in his brothers arms seconds later, her hands still cupping his cheeks.

He hoped she knew, just how much she meant to him. A few hours pass and he can’t sit there thinking anymore, he decides to head out. The bunker was slightly void of food. Even if he wasn’t really eating it right now, Sam would need to eat. So grocery shopping it was. 

Dean doesn’t tell Sam when he leaves, he knows that his little brother only worries, and will almost definitely try to go with him. So he heads out alone, he always felt alone these days anyway. The impala was one of the only places that he still finds comfort anymore, all the times they had spent in there together helped. 

He parks in the parking lot, heading inside the bright store, it feels like he’s in a trance. Tossing things in the cart, he sees the shampoo that she used to use, uncapping it he inhales the scent and clears his throat. Feeling the lump beginning to return and the tears pushing at the back of his eyes, he pushes it down where it belongs. 

Returning the bottle to the shelf he rounds the corner and he almost falls over, because he sees her again. Right in front of him, she has her back to him as she laughs with the same guy she’d been with before.

Abandoning his cart, he leaves the store as fast as he can. Hands stuffed in his pocket, keeping his head down low, he hopes it will be enough to keep him hidden. She was happy, as much as he wanted to, he wasn’t gonna turn around and fuck her life up. She deserved to be loved, to be worshipped. There was nobody who would love her like he did, but that she deserved all the love in the world. She would always have his heart no matter what. 

Swearing under his breath his shaking hands struggle to put the key in the ignition. Silently begging whoever, that he would get out of there unseen. He thanks his baby when she starts, he rips out of that parking lot like his life damn near depends on it, swigging from the flask as he drives. Even the back of her head was insanely fucking perfect, just like he’d remembered. He could still smell her perfume like it was torturing him even now.

Arriving back at the bunker he throws the door closed behind him, swearing as he pushes his hands in his hair as he sinks to the floor, his back slamming against the solid metal. Knees pulled to his chest as his ass hit the floor. He wanted to scream and he knows that he can’t take this much longer. His heart is almost literally being ripped out of his chest, is he supposed to put up with this forever. Every single fucking day for the rest his entire life. 

Dean stands from the floor, his flask is empty, he needs to pass out before he does something he really regrets. Before he goes to find her. 

Then his heart sinks in his chest, there’s a key turning in the bunkers main door lock. He turns just in time to miss the swing of the door hitting him in the face.

His green eyes meet her stunning blue ones, eyes he’s been dreaming about for as long as he can remember. He feels like his tongue is swollen in his mouth, like he can’t breathe as she steps inside. Her bag falling beside the closing door, she’s so damn close that he can’t be dreaming because there’s too much pain, too much relief and overwhelming guilt.

“Dean?” she practically sobs, taking another step closer.

He can’t move, it's like he’s stuck in concrete. His mouth drops open, a breathy whimper leaving his lips. “Izzy”

Tags: @chewie-redbird @julzdec @lettersofwrittencollective @stiles-o-dylan24 @mogaruke @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @dylanholyhellobrien @desiree---1986 @emichelle @lilulo-12 @22sarah08 @deanwanddamons @simsadventures  @charmed-asylum @holyhellpit @flamencodiva @hobby27 @akshi8278 @littlelonewolfgirl @ladywinchester1967 @screechingartisancashbailiff @maddiepants @becs-bunker​ @mrswhozeewhatsis​

[splendidshinobi]

FULLMETAL ALCHEMIST 2003 LIVE REACT: EPISODES 6-10

back at it again with the white vans

episode 6: the alchemy exam

alrighty then

um mustang calling edward “ed” is EXTREMELY offputting

ohhhhhhh noooooo not shou tucker

FUCK

im wholly unprepared

them all being in central instead of east is low key jarring like my brain isnt computing it

alexander’s intro is basically the same 

nina bbyyyyy girl u deserved so much better

ed is such a fucking nerd...chemistry club modern au confirmed

god the more tucker talks the more i wanna beat his face in

al pretending to eat by tossing a potato in his armor i-

aww theyre playing in the snow theyre so pure

wonder how long thatll last

“bigger brother” and “little big brother” and ed doesnt even get mad

ed’s birthday party????????

A MELON? ED YOURE SO RUDE

so 03 had ed’s bday instead of elicia’s...CAUSE THEY GOT ELICIA IN THE WOMB

“it’s here!” “the tea?” “the baby!” hughes is a fuck head

ok so now they’re having elicia replace rush valley baby arc

this was winry’s time to shine in fmab i miss her 

if winry isnt here who is gonna birth this baby

oh my god they just realized ed can use alchemy without a circle

no wonder he’s been using circles this whole time

SO ELICIA JUST POPPED OUT????? WHAT

STUFF ALEXANDER IN THE ARMOR AND PRETEND YOURE A TALKING DOG???

“i dont think thats very funny” NO ALPHONSE IT IS NOT

THEY KNEW EXACTLY WHAT THEY WERE DOING WITH THAT ONE I SWEAR TO GOD IN THIS ESSAY I WILL

damn bradley what up homie

im so thrown off by the way theyre doing the exam omg

seriously what the hell is fuhrer bradley’s purpose right now is he even the fuhrer in this i feel like they wouldve mentioned it

oh lord ed is about to impress everyone with his clappy hands

ok so next episode is nina FUCK

episode 7: night of the chimera’s cry

havoc babeeee

im gonna marry him my himbo king

also can RIZA DO SOMETHING PLZ

“huhhhhhhhh nina” ew tucker that was weirdly gross

wonder why

cant do it cant do it

do we think jean kirstein was modeled after jean havoc slightly looks wise

was that purposeful 

ill have to google 

serial killer who only targets women?  it cant be scar...scar drinks respect women juice

barry or slicer bros maybe? um ok

why did we start with liore if they were just gonna hop right back into the past for a huge chunk of episodes idk

assessment day??? oh noodles

AL WHY DID YOU TELL TUCKER TO MAKE ANOTHER TALKING CHIMERA ALPHONSE NO

THE NOISE I EMITTED IM GONNA TAKE A LAP

im gonna FUCKING SCREAM

ed r u writing to winry??? that’s a bit out of character for u good sir

no tucker put that baby down

im gonna fucking SCREAM

aww he burned nina’s picture thats not sus at all

SHESKA!!!!!

wait does the ironblood alchemist know what tucker did to his wife? thats kinda the vibe im getting

SCARRRRRRRR

looking like a pirate too damn

his voice sounds different is that j michael tatum 

apparently not it was dameon clarke in 03 ya learn something new everyday 

ew elicia has a lot of hair for a FUCKING NEWBORN

ed really is such a cynic very suspicious of everyone as he should be really

basque grand knowS SOMETHING

oh jesus oh fuck oh god please do not TOUCH THAT BABY

ed and al snuck back in to the house well u know what its for the best

OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

im gonna cry again please god no

FUCKING DIE SHIT HOLE

she’s hurting? oh my god

my sweet angel

ew his eyes!!!!!!! 

tucker is such a fucking failure...like look at the chimera squad and greed’s theatre troupe being the way they are. ugh it really hits how fucking unfair it is 

ed was really about to split them? boy you know better

where is nina going...im hurting

ed really tried to save her in this one

SCAR KILLS NINA IN THE STREETS???????? SIR

thats different

oh snap 

oh FUCK

SCAR WHY DID YOU LEAVE HER BODY LIKE THAT

THE WAY SHE WAS ARRANGED ON THE WALL THAT WAS FUCKED UP

AND THEY FOUND HER LIKE THAT???? AT LEAST IN BROTHERHOOD THEY DIDNT HVE TO SEE HER CORPSE ARE YOU SHITTING ME?

that was fucked.

episode 8: the philosopher’s stone

can yall get ed and al away from nina’s fucking MURAL 

get out of the car mustang

finally jesus christ

roy mustang talking about healthy coping mechanisms dont make me laugh but alright baby boy go off i guess?

im curious about who this goddamn serial killer is though lets turn to that plot thread

r u kidding me

mustang is making ed and al take over tucker’s research?? thats actually wildly messed up

oh tucker was straight executed that’s a choice i guess

tucker and the philosopher’s stone sounds inaccurate but ok

ed please stop being mean to your brother

03 mustang has got me reaching for a fucking baseball bat on GOD

scar and edward having this conversation right now i literally cannot

WINRY yes bitch

BRADLEY WHAT IN TARNATION

JESUS LORRRRRRDDDDDDDDDDDD

alphonse shut your mouthhhhhhhhhhh

im so confused what is bradley up to

“alchemists are not cold blooded murderers?”

i mean

kimblee would beg to differ for one

whos this creepy lady 

her voice sounds familiar

barry’s food shop?

the killer is barry ok got it

IS BARRY DISGUISED AS A WOMAN

I KNEW THAT WAS JERRY JEWELL’S VOICE

WELL I KNEW IT SOUNDED FAMILIAR AT LEAST

WINRY GET OUT OF THE FUCKING TRUCk

has PINAKO TAUGHT YOU NOTHING

ok so i VASTLY prefer suit of armor original manga canon barry

this is such an odd plot what in fuck

um OW the meat cleaver

im so confused this fucking plotline

oh hey alphonse nice of you to show up!

is barry still gonna become a suit of armor later on

it makes NO SENSE to introduce him otherwise 

everytime i see 03 mustang i wanna beat his ass HONESTLY

literally i will shove my foot up his ass

fullmetal here we go

ed thinks he’s so punk rock 

oh great scar’s seen the watch

episode 9: be thou for the people

ed you simp buying winry all this stuff my edwin heart is ascending

SIMP SIMP SIMP

“mr. elric”?? you mean MAJOR ELRIC

to be fair though fuck the military

YOUSWELL??? oh LORD

im gonna need to read a full chronology of this show

 alphonse continues to be a precious angel 

where’s my boy yoki!!!!!

edward you idiot don’t go flaunting your money

woof woof ed

al looks so offended by ed saying they just met

whereas in brotherhood didnt he totally throw ed under the bus??? 

a choice to be sure

ah there he is hello yoki

who’s the chick

shes a lesbian

yoki makes me miss my baby girl mei chang

mei where r u

WAS THIS MILITARY DUDE REALLY ABOUT TO CUT DOWN A CHILD??? oh my god

hawkeye getting a promotion yes bby girl

jesus theyre transferring them to east now OKKKKKAY thats not how it happened it the book but ill take it....just doing it the opposite way i guess

who is lyra who is she

cute some military bribery 

umm lyra what the fuck did you do

lyra is a homunculus im callin it now

they definitely invented/changed up some homunculi in fact im certain they did and shes one of em. gotta be

i feel like 03 wrote ed as much more insensitive towards others than he really is...just a vibe im getting

i know he was faking for the townspeople’s sake but i still get this vibe from other instances 

i mean i cant say its not “canon” because its 03 canon

anyways what a show off

i cant believe theyre going to east...fuery and breda better be there

ok finally some answers on their ages....ed got his license at 12 like normal and nina and youswell were when he was 12...liore was 15, 

if they didnt flash the ages on the screen id be lost honestly

at least we’re back up to “present day”

episode 10: the phantom thief

ed saying he doesnt wanna see mustang

same

03 mustang is activating my fight or flight and im choosing fight

ed cheating at cards totally checks out

um who the fuck is this woman

what is she wearing

SERIOUSLY WHAT IS THAT CUTOUT MAAM HOW DO YOUR C**CHY LIPS NOT POKE OUT

idk but this is fem!hisoka

“hey shouldnt we talk first” after getting handcuffed??? christ almighty these innuendos

siren??????? siren is probably also a “fake” homunculus

ugh

ok so the nurse is siren

ya aint slick girly

alphonse control your crush

I REFUSE!!!! ALMEI RIGHTS

why is al’s hair so brown in this flashback anywayssss

oh its spelled psiren ope

like she’s literally a batman villain...

oh my god...............the tiddy grab. my son would never

my son is respectful

is this her homunculus tat or just a random alchemy tat

the added plotlines and original content continue to confuse and astound me every single time....

ok but if psiren really was doing this for the hospital she wouldnt be so flashy about it. like thats how you get caught sweet cheeks

girly stop flirting with this child on god im gonna fucking kick you

now shes a nun????????????????

Shes a fucking troll i hate her

im going to kick alphonse into the sun 

oh great now shes a teacher

wow shes a savior. the savior of amestrian venice. greatttttt

ed looking exactly like this emoji on this gondola rn 🧍‍♀️

STOP FLIRTING WITH THE CHILD 

GOD THIS IS SO BATMAN VILLAIN ESQUE

alphonse plzzzzzzzzzz she aint your girl

ok so probably not the last we see of this ding dong con artist

ok so its starting to get muddy. im scared the 03 stans are gonna come after me like i do like it and im having fun watching it but some of the plot and characterization choices are just....odd??? idk i gotta keep going though!! im sorry i just stan arakawa and her work in all her glory!!!

[smolbeandrabbles]

Play It Again - Ned Kendall x Reader (Beautiful Kate)

@wltz-bby​ @happyskywhale​ #MendoTagSquad

It was always a Prequal/Sequal to “Somewhere on a Beach”. However it didn’t really turn out that way... You may however still read it as one.

Author’s Note: *ehem* So, Here’s another ‘Ned Kendall Has Been Stuck At The Bottom Of My Drafts For A Year’ fic. 😬

Also I started this one in December and it’s taken until now to finish it... 🙈

Asides from that, he did demand to be written in one sitting. So that’s how we are actually finished now! (Along with some persuasion from Amanda, of course!)

Disclaimer: Beautiful Kate Characters not mine / the titles of Ned’s novels are actually the titles of my mum’s novels 😁 / gif not mine / lyrics not mine

Premise: When you end up dating your favourite author you fear that telling him could lead to trouble. What you don’t know is Ned already knows, he’s just waiting for the right moment to tell you exactly how he feels...

Words: 7497

Warnings: Swearing / Sexual Connotations

________ She was sittin' all alone over on the tailgate Tan legs swingin' by her number plate I was lookin' for her boyfriend Thinkin', “No way! She ain't got one!?” Soon as I sat down I was fallin' in love Tryin' to pour a little sugar in her Dixie cup Talkin' over the speakers in the back of that truck She jumped up and cut me off She was like, oh my God, this is my song I've been listenin' to the radio all night long Sittin' 'round waitin' for it to come on and here it is She was like, come here boy, I wanna dance 'Fore I said a word, she was takin' my hand Spinnin' me around 'til it faded out And she gave me a kiss And she said, play it again, play it again, play it again And I said, play it again, play it again, play it again A little while later We were sittin' in the drive in my truck Before I walked her to the door I was scannin' like a fool AM, FM, XM too But I stopped real quick when I heard that groove Man, you should have seen her light up The next Friday night we were sittin' out under the stars You should have seen her smile when I brought out my guitar Yeah, play it again, play it again, play it again Somebody, play it again, play it again, play it again

---

Don't read the last page But I stay when you're lost and I'm scared and you're turning away Don't read the last page But I stay when it's hard or it's wrong or we're making mistakes I want your midnights But I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day Hold on to the memories, they will hold on to you And I will hold on to you

---

The party wasn’t as far out of the city as he was used to, but far enough for it to be quiet. She was sitting alone, eyes staring at a fixed point in front of her, legs swinging over her tailgate like she was waiting for something... or someone... There was an empty cup in her hand and she wasn’t in any way paying attention to the party. She caught his eye immediately – young, and pretty, and just his type. He grabbed the nearest bottle of god-knows-what alcohol and glanced around. There had to be a boyfriend, there simply had to be. No way she was out here tailgating alone-! He eyed every single man, even those clearly not single just to make sure; and yet no one was making a move towards her. No one but him. She turned his way as he approached, head tilted inquisitively and offered a friendly smile. Ned Kendall looked back to the party with a soft chuckle; “Some party, huh?” “You could say that – the music isn’t bad…” Her eyes flicked back to her cup, “Guess I could use a top up.” “Oh!” He smiled, perching on the edge of her tailgate; “Allow me.” He poured a sensible amount into her cup and placed the bottle between them; “You here alone?” “Mhm.” She simply nodded, taking a sip; it wasn’t bad by all accounts, “Why? You lookin’ to change that?” Her smile was amused however, rather than her looking at him accusingly. Ned laughed, looking away from her, “I guess I just wanted to keep you company over here alone.” “Oh. I see.” There was a pause before she was laughing too, and patted the spot next to her, “Well, if you’re gonna do that, you might as well sit up here properly, …?” “Ned.” “Ned.” She nodded, taking another sip as he hoisted himself up into her truck bed, legs swinging in time with hers, “I’m Y/N.” You knew you probably wouldn’t be able to drive your truck back home, you’d already had a few too many trying to enjoy yourself before he’d shown up. Parties like this weren’t really your thing, but you did like getting out in the middle of nowhere to drink and tailgate from time to time – the music would be loud, and usually it was to your taste, as it was tonight. You didn’t ever particularly look for company, or to be hit on – the only time you’d been to these accompanied was with boyfriends past, and a few friends. But most of the people here tonight were unknown to you – a friend of a friend of a friend on some social media group had mentioned it, and you’d had nothing better to do. Still, as you laughed and talked with Ned in the back of your truck, you couldn’t say you weren’t enjoying being here with someone. He was sweet, and his flirting was as smooth as his pouring, every so often he’d intersperse a dirty joke or two just to see how you’d react. And you knew what he was doing, but that didn’t stop you from laughing and covering your face. “Oh God, that was bad!” “But you laughed!” “It was funny, but it wasn’t good!” The more you looked at him, the more you knew you’d already met him, or seen him around somewhere. Ned’s face was so familiar, but also just out of reach. You couldn’t place exactly who he was; a guy I’ve loved on the dance floor? A friends ex? A friends fling? I know this face… you weren’t the one night stand type, so he wasn’t one of yours. You were preparing to ask him exactly where you knew him from, maybe he’d approached you because he also already knew you, but you were just as soon distracted by the song change. “OH!” You leapt up – cutting him off mid-sentence; “It’s my favourite song!” Ned was just a little startled by the movement, not having a lot of time to react to the information before you turned back to him; “Come here, come dance with me.” His hesitation was momentary, and even as he asked if you were sure, Ned was sliding out of the back of your truck, hand out to take yours. “YES! I’m sure! Come on! This track is the best!!!” And, as you pulled him closer to you and let him wrap you in his arms as he danced with you – maybe a little closer than appropriate, Ned wasn’t one for disagreeing with you. Especially as you were clearly having the time of your life, carefree little smile on your face, the way you danced and laughed even harder than you had been before – clinging to him as he held you. How could he not love this? Ned had only come out here to get away from it all, and certainly get away from his desk and his writing for a while; at least to get out of his head. Maybe get a little drunk – but then here you were, and he wasn’t sure he’d quite meant for his evening to end holding someone. Ned thought you might let him go as the song ended but you didn’t, instead you pulled him in and laced your hands with his for the next song, and the next, and the next until things seemed to be winding down. This wasn’t really your kind of thing either, but there was nothing wrong with letting a hot guy spin you around in the middle of nowhere every once in a while – sometimes you just needed to take one or two steps out of line. You let him go with a giggle, he kept your hand in his and, as you didn’t protest, he assumed you also weren’t ready for this night to end just yet; “Thank you, Ned, I hope I didn’t wear you out too bad!” His smile was gentle; “Nah, I should be thanking you, I don’t think I’ve done anything like that for a while…” He glanced around, “What you say we get out of here.” “Ah-!” You pointed back to your truck, “I don’t think I’m legally allowed to drive.” Ned shrugged; “Well, I’m not doing too bad.” You weren’t sure that was true, but he seemed to be holding up better than you were. You already knew you were at the point where you’d do something stupid, like try to walk through a barrier to the subway without remembering to put your ticket in; that’d happened a few times before now.  “I could… take you somewhere?” You giggled again; “Is this just a ploy to get my address?” He smirked; “Guess that depends, does it come with your number?” You bit your lip through your smile with a single nod, yeah that was pretty well played; “I mean, I guess it could…” By all accounts he drove pretty well; although that raised its own questions: high alcohol tolerance, didn’t actually drink too much, you’d drunk waaay too much and therefore comparably he drove well… or just too used to driving in the state he was in. Not that you really wanted to dwell on that thought when you’d had such a good night. Ned pulled into your drive way and shut the engine off; “Oh. Yeah, nice neighbourhood.” He nodded, “Little better than a high rise in the city!” You scoffed, “You say that, but that also means you make enough money to afford a high rise in the city.” “Eh. You have a good point.” He turned to you, “Can I walk you to your door?” You were a little wary of where that could lead, but said yes anyway – and found yourself holding hands with him as you ascended your front steps. You both stood in silence again, studying each other – and wondering who was going to make the first move. He cleared his throat; “So, uh…” Ned rummaged in his back pocket, taking out his mobile, “Do I get that number?” You couldn’t help smiling and pulled yours out of your bag, “Do I get yours in return?” “MHM!” He couldn’t have taken your phone from you more eagerly if he’d tried, returning it to you just as quick. “Maybe…” he paused for a moment “Hey, Y/N, maybe we could do something sometime soon? Not exactly like tonight but, you know, and if you’d need a place to crash-” He hesitated once more at the intrigued look on your face and then thought better of it, “Well, we’ll discuss.” “I’d like that, I’d like to do something with you, Ned I think it’d be fun!” He was clearly happy you’d said that, “Alright! Excellent! And now we have numbers so… don’t- don’t be a stranger… Uh, you gonna be already getting your truck tomorrow?” “Yeah, don’t worry I’ve done it before.” You waved away his concern with a smile of gratitude “Cool. Well, you know if you need any help, let me know, I’m around.” “Oh! Thank you, I will!” Although he still didn’t disappear off your porch, and you weren’t sure you wanted him to leave it just like that either. In the end you couldn’t be sure which one of you moved first, all you knew is his lips were on yours, and your hands were back in his. It was an appropriately short kiss, but still a good one. And as he stepped back towards his car, you knew that was exactly how he was going to leave it. “Goodnight, Y/N.” “Goodnight, Ned, thank you – I had a great evening!” “Me too.” He nodded, and left you with a smile.

 You shook your head gently, still smiling as you closed the door after watching him walk down your porch steps - hand up in farewell. That kiss decided it wanted to linger on your lips, and him on your mind. So you let them. Ned - a name you also recognised, but you weren't sure where from. You'd figure it out in the morning. His face was so familiar, but you couldn't quite put your finger on either right now. When things were a little less cloudy for you, you were certain you’d remember. You changed for bed and grabbed yourself a glass of water. Tapping a text out to the number he'd given you ’Thank you for the great evening! Goodnight x’ knowing he'd have to drive home, you didn't expect a message back - but that didn't mean you weren't hoping to hear your phone buzz before you drifted off. It did, and you smiled but were too tired to pick it up - that didn't matter, you'd get it in the morning and it'd give you something good to wake up to. ***

 When you awoke your head was aching as much as you expected and you reached for your clock with a groan; the day was already nicely into double figures. You picked up your phone, squinting at the screen as it lit to relay what you’d missed.

Not only had you received a goodnight, but also a good morning text. Which made you smirk. Clearly he was serious about this being more than just a one night out, kiss on the front porch thing.

 You sat up - taking a sip of water that you had to thank yourself for placing on your bedside table. Luckily, you had put the glass down before you had a mini heart attack and almost screamed. The phone was dropped, and fell with an equally dramatic clatter.

 When you weren’t out and about at parties, your usual evening was spent curled up with a book, and you were currently working your way back through your favourite authors entire back catalogue before the release of his latest novel. So, there was currently a half finished one sitting on your bedside table. Complete with a little authors biography on the back. Which was fine. If it wasn’t for the accompanying picture.

You picked the book up in disbelief. No wonder his name and face was so fucking familiar to you. Because he was staring back at you now. Whether greatest moment of aligned stars or sheer dumb luck - you’d just pulled Ned Kendall. He was Ned Fucking Kendal! Your favourite author. And he’d just text you ‘Good Morning Beautiful x’

***

 You’d gone from hanging out casually at weekends to dating pretty quickly – although you didn’t think it was ever going to be anything other than dating, because his flirting was furious. Any time or reason Ned could think to see you, he did. You worked at a publishing house, but not his, as an editor – mostly factual books and biographies. All very interesting, but you loved escaping to the world of fiction. When he eventually confessed he was a writer you played dumb, wanting to pretend you had no idea who he was, that you’d never read a single word of anything he’d ever published. Although you had, many times over. Ned immediately recommended some of his favourites of his own work, and you said you’d have to check them out sometime. The truth was you didn’t want to look like a raving fan who was dating him just because of who he was. You didn’t want him to think that was the kind of girl you were. Because that wasn’t true at all, his name and his money – although you couldn’t be sure exactly how much Ned made – didn’t really mean a thing to you, you’d fallen for his personality and the man he was now. He didn’t write like the man he was – unless something had happened to change that. The release of his newest novel was immanent and part of you was holding off until then, so you could read that ‘first’. You already had a feeling that it was going to be like nothing else he’d ever written, and therefore be reviewed as such. But as much as you loved all his work, you were excited to see where he would take things now.  

However, even you couldn’t contingency plan for the scenario that Ned would find out for himself. On a quieter day, when you were busy in the kitchen having invited him over for dinner, Ned became curious in your bookshelf. You’d left him in your living room with a good glass of wine whilst you just checked on a few things, and he had nothing better to do than a bit of discovery. He wondered what kind of books you liked reading, what was your genre of choice, who were your favourite authors, what could he use on your shelves to get you to springboard into reading one of his own works. Ned knew, of course, that you wanted to wait for the new one – but part of him wanted you to read the darker parts of him, because if you could do that maybe this relationship would last. He wasn’t sure he could guarantee he wouldn’t go back there; he was certainly capable. A simple scan of the spines had him smiling, remembering a dig from one of his exes, ‘Noone reads anymore, my ass...!’  He ran his fingertips over them, every author listed alphabetically, and he nodded along impressed by the scale of the collection. Your non-fiction occupied the top few rows, but everything else was fictional, your genre ranging from romance to thriller to horror and back again. Ned liked that; you had range. And taste, damn this girl’s got taste! His smile only getting broader as he passed several of his own favourite authors, especially if they were books he’d particularly enjoyed. Ned found himself thinking he was probably onto a winner here – you were incredibly well read. But suddenly he paused, and moved away from the shelf, frowning like he wasn’t sure he was reading this right. Dragging his eyes back to the beginning of the row, he realised he was; and Ned’s heart gave a sudden jolt that he couldn’t explain. Kendall, Kendall, Kendall, Kendall, Kendall... For the entire shelf. His eyes flicked to the kitchen, but you showed no signs of moving from there, he swallowed and looked to them once more. Ned realised very suddenly that you knew exactly who he was. EXACTLY who he was. But why hadn’t you told him that-!? Did you not want to tell him that for your own reasons? Should he therefore continue the game you were playing, as if he didn’t know you knew? This wasn’t just one or two he’d recommended you; this was everything he’d ever released, and judging by the fact most were also hardback, and the covers, a fair few were first editions. Better than that, nearly every single one of them was pristine; you also cared so much about your books. He understood that, though, he’d seen you read once or twice and you always made sure not to crease the spine. Except one. There was just one with his name on the spine where it was creased to the point where the title was barely readable. Your favourite...? He would think so. Read so often that it couldn’t be helped that it would at some point be ruined...

He smiled and slid it from the shelf; amazingly the cover was still pretty intact. Past Imperfect – he wondered what it was about this one that you loved so much? Maybe one day he’d get the opportunity to ask you about it. In fact, as he held it in his hands, nothing was stopping him from waltzing into your kitchen and leaning against the wall with a smirk; ‘Oh! So you knew I was a writer then!?’ But something about that seemed wrong. You wanted to come at this at your own pace, and it wasn’t fair for him to force that confession out of you. However, maybe Ned could help you out. He turned, and scanned the room again, taking the book with him, looking for a pen. He grabbed the first one he could – making sure it worked on the back of his hand before opening the front cover. Ned thought for a minute, tapping the pen against his lip, and then smirked as he leant on the table to write the perfect message, accompanied by his signature. With that, and with you still not here, he closed the book and slotted it back into its rightful place on the shelf. Because he knew if there was one book of his you were going to pick up and re-read, it’d be that one. Stepping away again he took a deep breath, and realised how good he felt. You were a fan of his. You knew his darker parts because it was all right here in front of him, and you’d come into his life now – at the beginning of a brand new chapter. That made him even more excited that you were about to accompany him on this journey; and with the biggest grin on his face he walked into the kitchen; “Hey, babe, do you need some help?” “Oh, no you don’t need to-” You turned from the counter and paused at the look on his face, how happy he was suddenly, “What?” Although you could hardly help but mirror his smile. He gave a shrug, “Nothing…” Although that couldn’t be further from the truth; “I guess I’m just so in love!” and then, Ned knew that he was. ***

In and around the release date of A Few Words Too Many Ned had a lot of press to do, and it wasn’t something he’d ever particularly enjoyed – yet, this time it was all very different. And most of all, he liked asking you to things. He’d known the truth for a good few months now, and he was trying to bring you into as much of his writing world as he possibly could. He’d already made you promise to read excerpts from his latest manuscript, and as you were an editor he wondered if he’d be able to persuade you to be his. Maybe. Ned thought you just as much might be dying to ask – under that façade. But he didn’t push or force any issue, or try to get you to trip up. He did, however, invite you to a book talk, you’d already been to the release party with him, and accompanied him to a couple of pre-release interviews. Even though you worked for a publishing house, seeing it from the point of the view of an author was fascinating. Tonight you wouldn’t be sitting with Ned, but in the audience listening to your boyfriend talk about both his latest release and his back catalogue. You had some burning questions of your own, but, also you’d not read a word of the new one yet – despite him offering to get you a copy of it. You were much happier to support him by buying one; which you would in your own time. Also, this was the first night it would be available to the public, so you wanted to read it at the same time everyone else got to. Ned couldn’t lie that he was a little disappointed in the evening as a whole. Because whilst he was up there answering everyone else’s desperate questions, the ones he really wanted to answer were yours, and there was no way you didn’t have any. You were content to sit in silence, taking it all in. He might have been your favourite author, but you had never been to a talk by him before. And you knew Ned was fascinating as it was, but hearing him talk about his books with as much passion as you had for reading them was truly another experience all together. And just the difference between this bad boy public image – the kind of man who would write and live something like ‘Half His Luck’ and the way he was with you (although if you were to confess, sometimes when it got hot and heavy between you he was a little like that) were very nearly worlds apart. But Ned was nice, he was still personable and his sense of humour was like a fire cracker. You liked hearing everyone else laugh at the cheeky way he answered certain questions, and how they all held on to every word as he got deep on occasion. You were proud of him, and at least you would be able to tell him that much without giving it all away.

At the end of the night, after you’d sat there beaming, watching him sign for everyone who’d purchased a copy of his book and how much of an sweetheart he was 1:1 with his fans - how he took time to talk to them, take photographs and answer any final questions they had – Ned checked his watch and took your hand, announcing he had reservations at one of his favourite places down town. That was good with you, you realised just how hungry you were. “Did you enjoy that?” “I had a lot of fun!” You nodded, “And you? It looked like you enjoyed the evening. You’re certainly good with your fans!” “…Yeah.” Ned looked bashful for a moment before his eyes locked on yours, wishing you’d understand quite the significance of what you were saying. “It was good, I mean… I just wish you’d ask questions.” For a moment you went red, but recovered well – “I suppose I better get reading if I want to ask you questions as good as they all did-!” “Yeah, a few spoilers that hopefully you’ll forget!” “Oh! Then I hope I do!” You laughed, holding his hand a little tighter and winding yourself around his arm, head on his shoulder, “I should read this one now it’s out, too…” it was a quiet muse. Ned took a deep breath; maybe then he’d finally get to press the issue of your bookcase with you. “Yeah, I suppose you should!” “I bet your writing is incredible. I bet all your work is amazing! The way you talk about it is…” You trailed for a moment, “I can tell how much you care – about how much of you is in your work. So, I… I guess I get to discover that.” He pulled you into a kiss, it was a sudden moment, and Ned couldn’t help himself. That was damn near as close to a confession as he was going to get and he knew that – still, it was the best thing you could have possibly said. And you got to revel in him once more. He let you go with an embarrassed chuckle; “I’m sorry I just- Thank you. I think… I think you’re gonna really love ‘em, Y/N.” And the sooner the better, because all you’d done was make Ned want to discuss every single little detail with you.

 Dinner was delicious – if there was something else Ned knew; it was exactly where to eat in this town – and as he drove you back to his place Ned kept his hand in yours. The radio was on quietly, and neither of you were really paying attention to it, until a familiar tune began playing. “Holy shit!” You sat up, overjoyed and turned the dial. Ned couldn’t help how hard he laughed; “Oh! Y/N! I think it’s your song!”

***

Ned had always been right, eventually you were going to go back to your favourite of his novels. You’d finally purchased your own copy of A Few Words Too Many – and he kept eagerly asking if you’d got very far. You continued teasing him that you’d only read a couple of pages, which for him was more than enough, and you were very reserved in the way you gushed over his writing style – yet were certainly gushing. And Ned was overjoyed at that; knowing this was just a taste of what he’d get out of you once you figured out he knew. In reality you were probably around half way through. It was getting raved about; this was the ‘one where he found himself’, the style was lighter, cleaner, Ned’s hope; rather than dark and murky despair that all his readers had grown accustomed to – where he questioned everything. They weren’t wrong, this was a different Ned Kendall; though his use of language was still gorgeous, it flowed with a different type of confidence and it was damn near unputdownable – and you were dating him! Every time you’d read another incredible line you’d have to mark it down, and sometimes it had you nearly screaming, or crying – on occasion they were very happy reactions. Somehow when you were absorbed in his world building, you could hardly believe that you were lucky enough to be with this man… And you knew that soon enough, you would have to confess to him, because you couldn’t keep this to yourself much longer.

 What you had never counted on was Ned being curious about your taste in authors for himself. It probably should have occurred to you, but never did. So you found out he knew in a completely different way than either of you expected. You had a friend of yours staying over for a girls night in, and you hadn’t seen her for a while – given that she lived on nearly the other side of the country  - she was one of your very best friends, and therefore knew nearly everything about you; including that Ned Kendall was ‘the greatest writer of all time’. To quote yourself. (When he wasn’t writing hilariously trashy erotic romance novels, although you had to be honest you enjoyed those too.) “Did you see your favourite author had a new book out-!?” “Hmm?” “That Ned Kendall bloke.” “Oh! Yeah-! I did...” It wasn’t common knowledge amongst your friends that Ned and yourself were dating, for obvious reasons. “Have you read it yet?” “No...” Well not all of it, you sighed and looked to your shelf; “Whenever I read his new stuff it always makes me go back to these. Don’t get me wrong his new books are good, but, there’s something incredibly haunting about the way he used to write.... a man... trying to tell you a secret... yet, never quite committing to it. A guy with a lot of complex issues. And I always felt that.” “So, would you recommend any-! I’ve never read them so, try me out!” You automatically went for Past Imperfect and held it out to her; “This is my favourite. And I go back to it time, and time, and time again...” “Why?” She gave a gentle smile of encouragement, genuinely curious as to your choice. “Just read the first page, you’ll know exactly why. It’s like suddenly an author was speaking to my soul. I can’t explain it...” You took a deep breath, feeling like you were spilling secrets you shouldn’t have been “I’ll, uh, get us some drinks!” Suddenly you were called back as she flipped through pages; “Have you met him-!?” “What?” You stepped through, eyebrow raised, what would cause her to ask that? That nearly panicked you – paparazzi shots? Was Ned even famous enough for that kind of thing-!?! “Met him-! You met him!? You never said-!?” You were about to deny it fervently, but were just as confused by her question when she turned the book around. You crossed to her, eyes wide, and grabbed it: “Y/N, all my love always, Ned x” You turned back to your book shelf suddenly horrified. Ned knew. He knew! He knew and he never said anything-?! Dammit-! Of course a writer would be interested in the kinds of books his significant other read! Maybe he was thinking about getting you to read that work for himself!! Is THAT why he’d been so disappointed at the book signing-!? When had he done this? More importantly, why had it taken you SO long to find it-!? “Y-Yeah.” You turned back to her, “I, uh, I went to a book signing when the latest one came out…” The temperature of your body was rising and you were already bright red, a dead give-away to mark you out as a liar – even though it wasn’t strictly untrue. She raised an eyebrow, and you knew nothing was about to get past her; “Y/N.” Or that tone of voice – now you were in trouble “And, uh… Uh…” You stammered, covering your flushed face with the book, “I’m… dating him!” “You’re WHAT-!?!” She yelled it, and dragged you down onto the sofa, “And you kept it from me-!? Bitch, hell no! Details NOW!!!”

***

Given the nature of your relationship and how much you liked being around each other, it wasn’t long until you found yourself on a lunch date with him. Ned was on a permanent high right now as it was; the novel was doing incredibly well, and that was spilling over into the way he talked to you, the way he texted you – even in the way you tangled together under his sheets. You wondered if you were about to add to that high. Well, you’d have to get through your own embarrassment first. Ned waved enthusiastically across the restaurant at you, sliding off his shades. Today he’d opted to sit outside, and it was a glorious day, warm with a good breeze, so he’d chosen the table well. “Hey gorgeous, how you doing?” He stood to kiss you in greeting, which meant you were blushing immediately. “I’m... I mean if I wasn’t such an idiot I’d be doing better, however, in context of the question I’m good!” You tucked your chair in as he sat down again, eyebrow raised; “Oh?” You immediately turned to your bag, and pulled the book out, dropping it on the table. You didn’t dare look at his face as you tapped your fingernails on the cover; “You- I- When did you do this!? H-How long have you known!?” He chuckled, leaning forward to trying to get you to look at him, taking your hands when you didn’t; “A good while, we hadn’t been together so long. But I knew it, I knew that’d be the novel you went back to.” Your head in fact dipped further, “Oh god, I feel so fucking stupid!!” “For not saying anything?” Ned titled his head, “Babe, you had your reasons I’m sure… now come on, look at me. You’re far too beautiful to show your face to just the table!” Although you were glowing, and all across your face read your embarrassment as you looked back to him slowly; “I-I guess I didn’t want you to think that I was with you… just because.” “Now where would you get that idea?!” He pulled your hand to his lips and kissed your knuckles, “Now I get to talk to you about my work, and you get to ask every question you’ve ever been dying to ask me ever! And thank god!” You shook your head, “You weren’t disappointed in the event, just in me for not asking anything…” You blinked a few times, “I should have realised that.” “Baby, it’s okay. Do it now. Do it now!” “You’re not mad!?” “God, no…” He shook his head, “Frustrated. Bursting to get you to confess – yes maybe – but not mad. I knew in good time we’d get there. And I will certainly be drinking to it!” Ned let your hands go and grabbed the wine menu. “…Will you be mad if I tell you how much of A Few Words Too Many I’ve read?” Ned glanced up slowly from the list; “You finished it yet?” “VERY nearly.” His eyes narrowed, but he smirked; “I knew a few pages was just a bluff. Real question is are you enjoying it as much as everyone else appears to be.” You leant on your hand and mused for a second, before smiling to answer him; “I am. It’s different for you… I guess I really fell for the darker spells in your past. But this… There’s so much hope in it. You learned a lot, I suppose, and this is the you now, that I get to be with. OH my god, though! Some of the lines and your humour?! It’s your best work for a while. Not… that I don’t enjoy everything you publish.” “I’ve come a little way since that one…” He nodded towards the book you’d placed on the table, but you noticed the faint blush now appearing on his cheeks; “Still, thank you. That’s very kind. I wondered what you’d think – you clearly reread everything.” You nodded, “Every time I find something else I never noticed before - your writing is quite honestly unique in that respect. At least from what I’ve read – you have anecdotes and maybe experience that allows you to write such a way but this-” You drew the novel to you; “The man in this, the man who wrote this, has affected me in a way no other work has. And now you’ve signed it!?” Your sigh was gentle, “I mean, I just want to sit here and thank you forever…”  You covered your mouth suddenly, as if you’d been missing the point; “But-! NED! I just…! Oh my god, I know I should have said something! And you COULD have said something! But this makes me so glad you didn’t.” “What I wrote was okay, then?” You tucked your hair back and blushed again at his sweet smile, looking away from his amused blue eyes once more; “All my love always?” Did he want that? From you-!? How could that not be okay? “I just hope that we get to feel that way about each other… for a very long time.”

 ***

And so months’ worth of dating became years – and eventually you moved into that very same high rise apartment; and for the record, you still didn’t see what he was complaining about. You’d gotten the opportunity now to first round edit some scenes that he liked showing you, and a couple of his manuscripts. Ned still hadn’t released anything new for a while – because he said nothing was striking him with real inspiration. A couple of the manuscripts were even already finished, but, he said they just didn’t feel right to him - they needed something a little more and he’d come back to them. Then inspiration struck him from the most obvious place. Because you were right in front of him – and your relationship was a story in itself, even if he put it in fiction and changed it around. You were the kind of woman who he could easily make into a romantic lead everyone would fall for – and he could do right by a character like you. Suddenly Ned went from writing just a little every day, or every so often, to writing nearly the whole day through, even late into the night; when night became day again. You let him get on with his process, and supported him through it as best you could – which he couldn’t have appreciated more. One evening though, you leant on the back of his chair as he read over his latest scene, and had to enquire; “Who is keeping you away from me? She better be nice – you’ve written some truly awful women.” Though by now you knew a lot more about his past; and exactly why he’d written such things, “Mind you, your men aren’t usually angels either…” You mused, resting your head on his. Ned chuckled gently, reaching behind him to pull you onto his lap, “You’ll have to read it and find out.” “Awww-!” You whined, winding your arms around him and kissing his temple as he flipped the page, “Will you at least tell me what it’s about?” “You.” And he sounded deadly serious, still looking at the page as he said it You scoffed for a moment, “Me?” “Uh huh.” “Oh no! Come on! What’s it really about!” You pouted as his tease. Ned only smiled; “I said what I said!” “Alright-!” You threw your hands up but kissed him again, “Keep your secrets!” You continued to sit with him as he read however, head in the crook of his neck, running your hands over his chest affectionately. But every so often you’d chuckle. Because as IF, right!? Why would Ned want to write about you? What was special enough to be his muse in a novel like the kind he wrote? You supposed he’d make you wait until the final manuscript to find out what it was really about – but that joke in itself made you desperate to find out more. It was a couple of days later, when you were heading off to work, that Ned presented you with a few pages tied together in red ribbon; “Oh?” You took them from him delicately, “What’s this?” “Just a scene – you wanted to know a little about it. Well, I think this could be the one, so,” He nodded to it, “I wanted you to have the first piece, see what you think!” “Aw.” You held it close to your heart for a moment, before pushing up on your toes to kiss him; “Thank you!” “You’re welcome-! It’ll give you a work break.” “Ohhh-!” You grinned, opening the door, “I don’t think it’ll last until my break!!” You blew him one last kiss, “See you later Ned! I love you!” He held his hand up to wave, “Goodbye, Y/N! Have a good day – I’ll still be here when you get back!” You very nearly cackled; “Aw, heck I know! Write well Ned Kendall!” “God, I hope so!” He laughed after you, only closing the front door when he heard the elevator ping to announce it was picking you up. Ned knew exactly what he’d given you, the scene was a lot more subtle than most of what he’d written – where it would be more obvious that his muse was indeed you. But you’d been so adamant that he was joking with you that he didn’t want you to get it right away, Ned wanted you to read the novel and suddenly realise and gasp, and snap the novel shut, and maybe even throw it at him – and then cry. Sometimes you cried when you read his work; and there wasn’t a time that Ned Kendall loved you more than the raw emotion you displayed when you were transported away by a book. This one was special though, this wasn’t like any other novel he’d written that you’d loved. This one was his gift to you. He sat back in his chair for a moment, and then turned towards his guitar; it was cheap and worn, but he’d got it for only one specific reason. That favourite song of yours seemed to follow the both of you everywhere, at every single moment of significance. With this particular book being written, and another significant anniversary of yours coming up, Ned had taken time out of writing to learn that song, so that he might one day (soon, he hoped) be able to play it to you. He reached out to pick it up and made himself comfortable, smiling at the thought of you – and what your reaction would be when all of this finally came together. This would be his gift to you, too.

***

When it was finally a few days before he distributed it – you realised that Ned had hardly let you read any more of it than that single ribbon tied scene. And you’d never seen someone so excited as he was when the box of first editions arrived at his front door. Until he made you sit down. And placed a copy in front of you. It wasn’t in stores yet – meaning that this one was the very first book handed out. And Ned wouldn’t take no for an answer this time, you knew you couldn’t refuse him the gift. Play It Again You pulled it towards you, thick paper, and significant in volume – possibly one of the longest he’d written – hardcover, new book smell with that beautiful glossy cover. Your hands shook in anticipation, and he looked so proud. But also like you might break his heart at any moment. You looked for his go ahead to open it, but Ned had suddenly lost the ability to speak; all he could do was nod. You took a deep breath, and opened to the dedications page. Immediately your heart jumped from your chest, and you thought all your emotions were about to come out at once; culminating in tears. You were about to cry all over a brand new book. The first few lines were lyrics you recognised well, to your favourite song. The lines you loved the most. And underneath, in printed ink: “For Y/N, For all your support. From the very first lines I wrote, until now, I don’t think I’ve ever loved, or been loved the way you love me. All my love, always Ned x” Beneath his heartfelt dedication, fresh ink from his flowing signature. Just his name this time around. You covered your mouth for a moment, because you couldn’t speak either. This one was dedicated to you, in printed ink. Permanently. That message was there for all the world to see – everyone’s copy was going to have this exact same text. And you were speechless. You hid your face for a moment as your tears began to flow, but you knew they were happy ones – and his were too. Because Ned couldn’t watch you read this without crying either. “I love you so much, Y/N. How could this have been for anyone but you!?” You nodded, and he understood that you couldn’t form words yet – taking your hands in his, he sat opposite you, it all suddenly a little too much to take. Eventually you shakily managed a sentence, looking back to his face; “W-What is it about!?” For one, you needed to know the significance of those lyrics. Just for you, or because they meant something to the story? Ned wiped his eyes, with a beaming smile; “... You already asked me that...” “I did?” “I said I was writing about you. You said you didn’t believe me; you really should have...” Your eyes widened and you immediately flipped the book over. “No! No! Don’t read the end-! That’s cheating!” He places his hands over yours and you bit your lips together; “Why, Ned, what happens at the end...?” “Well,” he smiled again, “that would be telling.” His face was thoughtful for a second, “Let’s just say... this writer hopes it doesn’t have an ending.” You pulled your hands from his to lean on them, gazing up at him with sudden adoration. And your sigh was equally dreamy, “Well, I guess this reader also hopes there’s no end...”

--- Thank you for reading my write-r! 🙏💜

[ancientwastedlores]

The Support System (Ch: 6)

SUMMARY: The Avengers have managed to collect all the infinity stones across the universe, and are currently keeping them in far corners of the world, only for research and to see if they can improve the planet and its people. Reader is a researcher with Tony Stark and Bruce Banner, as well as a field agent. Loki is currently serving time for his actions in New York City in 2012.

A/N: Find this chapter on AO3 here. This chapter is mostly soft Loki and some badass Y/N. 

AO3: The Support System Tumblr:  Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5 

Warnings: N/A Audience: general.

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CHAPTER 6:

It’s very obvious to the rest of the Avengers that Loki only started watching Doctor Who with you so he’d get to spend the night in your bed. You know it too, but understand that he would spend it in anybody else’s room but his, because being alone at night haunts him. If someone else wanted to something about it, they would, and if they don’t, they don’t get to give their opinion about it.

And they know you aren’t about to listen either, so they keep shut.

The rest of the week passes like usual, with Loki sleeping in your bed and Tony playing concerned father and quippy teen at the same time. Then arrives the morning when you have to leave.

You wake up and don’t find Loki next to you as usual. You take advantage of the space and stretch, moaning loudly. You feel like you’ve cracked every single joint in your body, and sit up. You keep sitting, making a mental list of the things you need to prepare before leaving.

The dealers were expected at the secret venue at 7 in the evening, but Tony, being Tony, insisted the team get there a full 12 hours earlier. Natasha rolled her eyes and tried to convince Tony that two hours would be enough, but he wouldn’t budge.

The cars would leave at 6 AM. You look at clock and see you have a full hour before leaving.

 The door opens, and Loki enters with a tray.

‘What! Aww, Loki’ you laugh. ‘I thought you could use a breakfast in bed before heading out’ he grins as he walks to your bed, ‘I made it myself’ he exclaims proudly, placing the tray on your lap.

Well, there was no doubt about that. It was a plate full of fruits, a bowl of cornflakes, and some toasted bread. You were looking forward to digging into some pancakes and bacon before heading out to a gruelling mission, but the excitement in his eyes makes you abandon the thought completely.

You smile and ask him to sit and share the food. He obliges.

‘So you’re coming round to the idea of me going’ you tease. ‘What’s the matter, find another Doctor Who fan?’

He looks severely offended and you immediately regret saying it. ‘I was only joking. Thank you for doing this, it’s lovely’.

His expression softens, and then he reaches into his pocket.

‘I know you’ll be fine, but I did take the liberty of an extra precaution’ he produces a small rectangular object, no larger than a fingernail. It’s silver, and has odd markings on it that glow green, and attached to a chain.

You start to protest because amulets are absolutely the kind of thing you’re against, when he clutches your arm. ‘Please’ he pleads. ‘It makes no difference to you, since you don’t believe in it, but for my peace of mind?’

‘Loki, if I wear that, and something does happen, you’ll blame yourself for the amulet not working properly’. ‘No, I promise, quite the opposite…’ he unclasps the chain, ‘I’ll know I did everything I could, and you died because you did something stupid’.

You laugh. ‘Fair enough. You promise you won’t start beating yourself up?’

‘I swear on my honour’ he says, putting the chain around your neck. You tuck the amulet under your shirt, knowing if Natasha and Clint ever saw it, they would never let you live it down. You talk for a while longer while finishing up your breakfast, and then Loki leaves so you can change.

xx 

‘Good luck, kiddo’ Tony slaps your arm. ‘Give ‘em hell’. ‘Thank you’ you give Tony a small salute before getting into the car with Maria Hill, Clint, Natasha, and Sam Wilson.

xx

T-3 hours to the expected time of arrival of the dealers. You’re leading a group of ten agents, and everyone is already in position. You’re sitting, leaning against the wall with your group, circling a finger over your bullet proof vest which hides the amulet Loki gave you.

Ridiculous, you think. But nice. You smile.

‘What is it?’ an agent asks, seeing your smile.  ‘What? Nothing. Shush’ you say.

Natasha’s voice comes on the earpiece: ‘If anyone tells Tony this, they’re fired, but the convoy is here’.

You smile, knowing Tony would gloat for ages if anyone told him the convoy reached earlier than expected.

‘Alright gang, up up’ you stand up, and help a few up since they’re carrying heavy guns. ‘Look sharp, and if you find something weird, for god’s sake, don’t touch it. We got Thor for that’.

You put your helmet on and take a deep breath, waiting for instructions.

 You hear the dealers come in, boxes being dragged across the floor, clicks of guns and clanging of metals.

‘Where’s the Vibranium?’ a voice comes. Someone mumbles something in another language.

‘He’s saying there’s another truck coming’ Natasha’s voice comes. ‘Nobody move until every single one of them is in the room and the door is shut’.

You nod at the rest of your team to ask if they understand. They nod back.

You return your eyes to the group that has just entered. You look up, just to scope the room, and spot a figure move.  

‘Yo’ you whisper as low as you can, ‘did anyone see that?’ ‘What the hell is that’ Clint’s voice comes over the ear piece. ‘Oh, if that is who I think it is…’ Sam’s voice comes. ‘Ssshh’ you hiss. ‘Wait’. ‘Did you just shush me, don’t ever…’ ‘Ssshhh!!' you, Clint, and Nat say in unison. 

It’s a grave situation, but you can’t stop yourself smiling before returning your attention to the back of the room. The tall figure is still moving, shooting something that makes no noise.

‘For god’s sake’ you hear Sam’s disgusted voice. ‘It’s the spider kid’.

You inwardly groan. You thought Tony would have told him to stay away.

‘Tell me he isn’t our responsibility, please’ Sam says. ‘If you want to die at Tony’s hands, sure’ you say. ‘Stark put a comms system in his suit, someone tell Stark to get him out’. ‘We aren’t carrying cell phones. And we don’t know how he got in in the first place’ Nat says. ‘Let it just play out’.

You sigh.

You wait a while longer, and the ‘other’ truck arrives. After all the contents are loaded in the room, there’s a spat about payment, and then the truck guys clear off. The one you assume is the leader shuts the doors and walks over to one of the crates with a crowbar.

‘Hold it…’ Nat says.

You stretch an arm out to inform your team to stay as well.

You quickly glance back up, the figure is no longer on the roof. You dread that he’ll announce his presence at the wrong time.

And he does.

‘Anything here for me?’ you hear Peter shout. The dealers all cock their guns and turn around to point it at him. ‘NOW’ Nat shouts over the comms.

You put your arm down and your team moves out, guns pointed at the dealers. From the right, Clint’s team enters. From the left, Natasha’s. Thor is on the balcony-like structure upstairs, looking over the whole congregation. Maria and Sam come from the North side. You have them surrounded.

‘Whoa, no way, you guys came!’ Peter exclaims. ‘Get outta here, kid’ you yell. ‘No way, let me help, I can help’.

You roll your eyes.

‘Ay, what the hell is going on’ one of the men say. ‘Put your weapons down’ Nat shouts. ‘Turn over everything you have’. ‘Yeah, that’s not happening’ the man laughs, removing a cylindrical object and throwing it on the ground, creating a force field around his own group, also trapping Peter.

You look up at Thor. He’s already swinging his hammer and aiming it at the force field; it hits its mark and the shield breaks so your team can move in.  

A fight ensues, with you managing to dodge most of the attacks, while also grabbing onto some of the new tech the dealers have left lying around to use it.

‘This is so cool!’ Peter yells, swinging from wall to wall, pinning dealers to the walls with his webs. Okay, maybe he is helping a little.

 You manage to get every single one of them, either knocked out or pinned to the wall. Sam celebrates by slyly putting some of the new guns in his holster. You laugh and yell that you can see him, and he yells back ‘You see NOTHING’.

Peter is just gushing over what just happened. ‘I didn’t know you guys were coming, this is so cool, I’ve always wanted to be part of a strike team!’ ‘Peter…’ you start. ‘And, and look at this gear, wow can I try that gun, I swear I’ll be careful…’

You take off your helmet. ‘PETER’.

‘Oh’

He sees your face. ‘Oh h-hey I didn’t know it was you, hi’.

You sigh, remembering his crush on you. ‘You’re in way over your head’. ‘Mr. Stark says the same thing, you know, I’m much more capable…’ ‘Thank you for your help’ you say sternly. ‘I’ll inform Mr. Stark you did a great job today. But you have to go now’.

His eyes twinkle. ‘You’ll tell him I did good? Will you tell me what he says? Do you have my number? You can just text me what he says…’

‘Peter, honey, Tony has your number’. ‘RIGHT. Yes, he does. Okay. Bye!’ he shoots a web to the ceiling and goes out of the broken skylight you hadn’t noticed before.

Everyone else is putting weapons back in crates, while the Avengers are talking at the middle of the room. You walk over to them. ‘Hey’.

‘How’d you get him to leave’ Sam asks. ‘I just said he did good’ you shrug. ‘We’re sure these guys haven’t made any calls?’

Clint holds up a little device. ‘Blocks out any outgoing and incoming calls within a 2km radius’ he grins.

xx

Stark’s trucks arrive and the men get out to help load the crates in. Natasha and Hill oversee the operation, while Sam and Thor are in some conversation, and Clint helps you aid the wounded S.H.I.E.L.D agents.

While you bandage a woman’s arm, Clint walks over to borrow a pair of scissors. You hand it to him, and kneels down next to you.

‘Blink twice if you need help’ he says. ‘Excuse me?’ ‘You and Loki’. You sigh, frustrated. ‘We’re friends’. ‘I’ve been under his control. It’s easy to not understand the difference’. ‘Clint, he doesn’t have any way of controlling me, okay?’ ‘You just look badly beat up’.

You finish bandaging the woman and she thanks you. You smile at her and stand up. ‘I appreciate your concern, I really do. And thank you for asking. But there really is nothing to worry about. I decided to give him a chance, and I think all of you should too’ you pat him on the back and walk towards where the trucks are.

‘Hey, the last of the crates are loaded, I’m just calling Stark’ Hill informs you. You nod and she leaves, her phone in hand. ‘Off to Dubai, then. It’s a long ass flight’ Nat says. ‘When are we leaving? I hope we land at night, it’s beautiful’ you say, remembering your time there ‘I think we can manage that’ she grins.

After the driver calls something out to her in Russian, she responds and hits the side of the truck next to her twice. The engines start and the line of trucks head out to the Avengers Tower.

‘We follow through; can you get the team into the cars?’

You nod and rush back in, ‘Ya’ll got five minutes, get your asses in those cars’ you call out. ‘Anyone who needs medical attention, yell’.

One person from the corner of the room yells.

You turn to Natasha. ‘I’ll take him to the Tower and drop him off, get a new guy, and meet you at the jet’. ‘You sure?’ ‘Yeah. Save me a good window seat’. ‘You got it’ she smiles and sits in the car.

The rest of the group files in, and you’re left with a large black BMW. You haven’t driven in a while, but the car has sirens, so you hope people will just get out of your way. ‘Okay mate, what’s your name’ you ask, as you pick him up. ‘Paul’ he chokes out. ‘Paul. Well, Paul, have you ever been inside the Avengers Tower?’

He shakes his head.

‘You’re in for the pampering of your life, if you manage to stay with me till the ride there, Paul’ you help him into the backseat of the car, and buckle him in. You run to the drivers’ side, get in, and flip the sirens on, driving at top speed to the Avengers Tower.

You make a call while rushing through the streets of New York. Over the bluetooth - ‘Hello?’ ‘Tony! Okay, I’m bringing over Paul, he was hurt badly in the fight…’ ‘Yup, Nat told me, med crew is already at reception’. ‘Excellent, I also need you to keep a S.H.I.E.L.D agent ready for me to take as a replacement’. ‘Also downstairs waiting, with full gear’. You just love this man. ‘You’re awesome, Stark’. ‘I know, kid. See you soon’ he hangs up.

You pull up to the entrance of the tower and the med crew rushes to help Paul out of your backseat, which is covered in blood.

Fortunately, Tony also has another car waiting for you.

This man is on another level, you think, chuckling.

‘Take care Paul!’ you yell. He gives you a thumbs up.

The new recruit comes up to you. ‘Hi, I’m Sean’ ‘Hello, Sean. Get in, we’ll talk’

He gets into the new car and you’re about to get in as well when you hear your name called out and turn around. It’s Loki.

‘Hi! I have to leave…’ He comes up to you and gives you a hug. ‘I forgot to give you a hug before you leave’ he holds you tight. ‘Oh’… you smile against his chest and hug him back. You’ve removed your bullet proof vest now, so it’s just a shirt. Loki can feel the amulet through it, that’s how tight he’s hugging you. ‘Take care’ he says, and lets go.

You grin and turn to get into the passenger side, then shut the door. Off to Dubai, then.

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Feedback and requests welcome :) <3 Thanks for reading! 

[kutemouse]

Hi! I just found your blog, and i'm in love with it. I would like to request from fluffy prompt 35+36 please with jin!

Well, what a coincidence, because I am in love with YOU kutie anon!! <3 Anyways, here is the imagine I dreamt up when hit with these prompts. Sorry it is so LONG (as usual) but in order to do these prompts justice, it is what it is. Hope you like <3

Fluff prompt #35: Can I keep this? It smells like you.

Fluff prompt #36: Please don’t cry. I can’t stand you crying.

Disclaimers: I found this gif on Pinterest, so it’s obviously not mine. Spiderman belongs to Sony, who has made a deal with Marvel/Disney to be used in their films, just in case y’all didn’t know.

Age Recommendation: 18+

Warnings: Swears, childhood romance, mentions of making love, Jin making me pop all the UwU’s and melting me into a puddle of fluffy goo.

Word Count: 2,968

Summary: You decided to spend your summer at your grandparents’ place where you used to spend summers during your childhood. The place is filled with so many memories, some good, some bad, but all containing him.

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

Always Loved You (Jin One-Shot, Fluff)

I couldn’t flip the pages fast enough. Currently, I was laying on a beach chair I’d dragged out to the edge of the lake, soaking up some sun while reading a trashy romance novel. The main character had finally confessed their love to the main love interest, and things were getting interesting.

“Y/n!” I ignored whoever was calling me.

“Y/N!”

“What?!” I hollered back, ripping off my sunglasses in annoyance.

“I need you to go to town! We need groceries for dinner tonight!”

I stood up, grumbling, pulling down my swimsuit that had started riding up my ass and gathering up my bag and towel. So much for a relaxing afternoon.

Still, I guess I was here for more than just a vacation. It was summer, and I’d just graduated from university. When everyone who attended my graduation party asked what I was going to do with my fancy new degree, I shrugged and gave some vague, non-committal answer. I had no job prospects lined up, not even an internship. I knew what I wanted to do with my degree, but no idea how to get there.

Sick of people asking me about it, I finally found something to do with my summer. I would go live with my grandparents and help them out. Truthfully, that was kind of a lie in itself. Sure, I’d help with whatever my grandpa and grandma needed, but mostly I was here to get some space and figure out what to do with the rest of my life. My impromptu trip got my parents off my back, at least.

I breathed in the warm, fresh air one last time before going inside to change. I loved it here. Back when I was in grade school, I used to come here for entire summers with my parents. Between the sun and the lake, I was constantly begging to come back here. I wondered when that changed… probably some time in high school, when I started getting busy with friends and parties. “I’m leaving now!” I called out to my grandma, scooping up the list she left for me on the coffee table.

“Thank you!”

I stepped outside and began the walk to the mini-mart down the road, relishing in the way my skin warmed in the sun once more. I hardly passed a single person, let alone a single car. That’s part of the charm here… no nosy neighbors or pesky so-called friends trying to get into your business and tell you what to do. Everything had a good distance between it, allowing for solitude and that small-town feel. I loved that it took a twenty minute walk to get to the busiest part of town, which was still nothing when compared to the crowded streets of the city.

A smile spread over my face as I passed a small park I remembered playing in as a kid.

“Tag, you’re it!” I shrieked before running away as fast as I could.

He growled and took off after me, causing me to squeal and run faster, giggling like mad. I ran up the steps of the jungle gym until I reached the very tippy, top. Oh no, he was coming! He grinned as he cornered me, but I had one escape left. I slid down the slide, still laughing as my bum hit the ground, got up, and started running. I didn’t make it far, though.

WAM! My feet tangled up and I ended up on the ground. “Ouch,” I gasped, looking at my hands. They had tiny cuts all over them, and my knee was scraped.

He reached me and pushed me hard in the shoulder. “TAG!” he screamed, but his smile faded when he saw me crying.

“Y/n, what happened?” he said, leaning down and examining my knee with large, brown eyes.

“I tripped,” I sniffled.

“Oh, don’t cry. I trip all the time. I even carry band-aides around just in case. See?”

I perked up a little when he pulled a bandage out of his pocket. He smiled at me as he peeled off the backing and stuck it on my knee. “It’s Spiderman,” I giggled.

He grinned at me. “He’s my favorite.”

The boy suddenly leaned down and placed a kiss on top of the bandage. “There. All better.”

He pulled me up and we continued our game of tag, shrieking and laughing even louder, if that was possible.

I blinked away the memory, realizing I’d stopped and was staring at the playground. God, I hadn’t thought about him in forever. How long’s it been? I wonder if he still lives around here… or even if he remembers me.

Our moms were best friends back in the day, and every time my family came here, we’d always spend the most time together. He was the only kid my age we knew around here, so he became my best friend. As we grew up, we went from sending each other hand-drawn pictures in the mail to full-on letters, then to emailing, then texting, then video calling.

One day, my laptop beeped, indicating I was getting a video chat, and I nearly declined it before seeing it was him. I quickly wiped my tears away with a tissue and blew my nose before answering the call. “Hey,” I said, giving the camera a watery smile.

“Hey! It’s been forever.”

“I know, I’m sorry, I keep meaning to call you but I’ve just been so busy.”

I sniffed, and he frowned, leaning closer to his screen. “Are you crying?”

“N-No,” I stuttered.

He gave me an amused smile. “Y/n, come on. You know you can’t lie to me.”

I choked out a laugh. “Alright, fine. Yes, I was crying, it’s stupid, just some guy being an ass as usual…”

I watched as he reached out a hand and leaned his camera even closer to his handsome face, concern etched all over his features, those brown eyes shining in what little light there was. “Please don’t cry, y/n. You know I can’t stand you crying.”

I nodded and laughed a bit more. “I know. I promise, it’s over with that guy. I won’t be wasting any more tears on him.”

He smiled at me. “Good.”

Lost in thought, I kept walking down the road, my tennis shoes scuffing along the pavement as I absentmindedly kicked stray rocks. I wonder if he ever thinks about me. Probably not. Last I heard, he too went to university somewhere in a far-off city. He was probably making a living for himself, his career prospects endless… probably dating someone too. Might even be married by now.

I huffed out a sigh as I reached the mini-mart. I stepped inside and grabbed a basket before pulling out my grandma’s list, muttering as I read it out loud to myself. “Y/n?”

That voice… it couldn’t be. No freaking way. I whirled around. “Jin?”

His face split into a wide grin. “It is you! What are you doing here?”

“J-Jin,” I stuttered, still not comprehending that the tall, handsome guy I was just reminiscing about was actually here.

He laughed. “Yeah, that’s me. It’s been what, six, seven years?”

“Something like that.” I could hardly breath. He looked only slightly older than what I remember. His hair was darker and pushed away from his face to reveal his forehead, but the rest of him was the same. The same easy smile. The same toned, wide shoulders. That melodic voice. Another memory suddenly forced its way into my mind, one that I’d been trying to push away since I got here.

The soft light of 6am caused my eyes to flutter open. A fresh, cool breeze danced across my bare skin, causing me to shiver and slide my arms back under the covers, cuddling close to the warm body next to me. I suddenly shot up. “Oh God, we’ve been out all night,” I groaned.

Jin sat up as well, chuckling. “It’s okay. Just tell your parents you were with me. They’ll understand.”

Oh hell. His voice was deep and husky from lack of use, and I felt myself melting into a puddle as he spoke.

Without warning, I leaned over and pressed my lips against his. He kissed me back eagerly for a few minutes before squeezing my waist, causing us to break apart as I gasped. “Listen,” he murmured, trailing his lips across my bare shoulder. “We should be getting back.”

“No, just a few more minutes,” I said, pulling him in again.

Jin indulged me for only a few seconds more, wrapping his soft lips around mine in a way that made my head spin. After an entire summer of flirting and driving each other crazy, we finally gave in and ended up kissing each other after Jin drove us out here to watch the stars. Before I knew it, we were in the back of his truck making love. He was my first. I always knew he would be. It was just a matter of getting us to cross the line between friends and lovers.

He pulled away from me. “Seriously, y/n, our parents are going to murder us as it is,” he laughed. “And… you’re leaving today. You’ve got to go pack.”

My heart dropped. I knew he was right. When would we see each other again? Jin began pulling his clothes back on, and I did the same. He grabbed his jacket and was just about to shrug it on when I tugged it away.

“Hey!” he protested, playfully grabbing for it back.

I buried my face in the jean fabric, inhaling deeply. It still smelled like him, musky with a hint of spicy cologne. “Can I keep this?” I asked suddenly. “It… It smells like you.”

Jin smiled. “Sure.”

“Y/n?”

I blinked, looked back up at Jin. “Yeah, sorry. I was just-”

“Lost down memory lane?” he said, the corners of his mouth turning upwards.

“Y-Yeah.”

I still had that jacket somewhere. I’d kept it wrapped in a plastic bag so, whenever I grew lonely or sad, I could pull it out and inhale his scent. I’d even fallen asleep a few times with my head buried in it, making myself feel better as memories of Jin wafted through my mind.

“I find myself doing that too,” Jin murmured, bringing me back to the present.

I never went back to my grandparents’ after that, finding myself too wrapped up in school, friends, and other boyfriends to bother. Or, at least, that’s what I told myself. Maybe the real reason I stayed away is because I didn’t want to find out Jin had been doing the same. Living his life… without me.

I tightened my grasp on my basket. “Um, I’ve got… I’ve got some shopping to do.”

“Oh, right. Well, I’ll leave you to it then.”

“Do you want to shop together?” I blurted out, noticing his mostly-empty basket.

Jin turned back around, his eyebrows raised in surprise. “Sure.”

We walked down the aisles in silence, picking out the groceries we needed as we went. “I can’t believe you’re here,” I finally said. “I thought you went to university.”

“I did,” he replied. “But I graduated recently, and I came back to see my family for a summer before heading back to Seoul.”

“Oh. Did you get a job?”

“Nope. I’m trying to become a doctor, so I need to go back to school for a few more years.”

“Nice,” I murmured.

“What about you? Why are you here?”

I sighed. “To visit my grandparents. Help them out.”

Jin stopped, grabbing something off a shelf, tossing me a knowing smile. “Come on, y/n, I know you. Why are you really here?”

I scoffed. “What do you mean? That is why I’m here.”

Jin stepped close, causing my breath to hitch in my throat. I caught a whiff of that oh-so-familiar scent and felt my legs turning to jelly as he leaned down so our eyes were level. “Are you sure?” he said, grinning.

I rolled my eyes. “I’m not here for you, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“That’s not what I was implying,” he said, chuckling. “But good to know.”

“Besides, you’ve probably got some girlfriend back in the city,” I muttered, turning away to grab something off a shelf.

“No, actually.”

“Really? The cocky, handsome Jin can’t sway them city girls?” I teased.

He shook his head. “Oh, that’s definitely not it. I could have any girl I wanted back there.”

Jin suddenly grabbed my basket away from me, causing me to whirl around. He stepped close, and I backed up until I could go no further, my shoulders pressed against the shelves. “The problem was me. I didn’t want any of them,” he murmured.

My lungs stopped working as his lips hovered dangerously close to mine, my eyes growing wide as our breaths intermingled. Jin drew back, laughing. “You should’ve seen your face,” he snorted.

“Fuck off,” I snapped, grabbing my basket back and striding down the aisle away from him.

He followed after me, his windshield-wiper laugh still echoing throughout the store. “Awww, come on, y/n. It was a joke.”

“Well it wasn’t funny.”

“Why not? What, you got a boyfriend that wouldn’t appreciate me flirting with his girl or something?”

His tone was nonchalant, but I sensed some tentativeness in the question. “No,” I replied firmly. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

Jin looked down at me, his brown eyes bright as he smiled. “Good.”

I scoffed once more and headed over to the cashier, placing my basket down on the checkout belt. Jin placed his behind mine, and when I got out my wallet to pay, he placed a large hand over mine. “I’ll pay for both,” he told the cashier.

I didn’t say anything until we got outside, both of us weighed down with shopping bags. “You didn’t have to do that, you know,” I scolded.

Jin chuckled. “A ‘thank you’ would suffice, you know.”

I marched up to him. “Just because you’re some big shot doctor now-”

“I’m not a doctor yet, y/n.”

“Whatever. Just because you think you can-”

He cut me off once more by grabbing my bags and loading them in the back of a truck. I stared at the gray vehicle, my mouth dropping open. It was the same truck. The place where I’d lost my virginity all those years ago.

I shook my head, bringing myself back down to reality. “What’re you doing?”

Jin shut the trunk door. “Giving you a ride. Now come on, stubborn, get in.”

I scoffed, but got in on the passenger side nonetheless. Everything looked the same, but different. Rather than a Spiderman lanyard hanging from the mirror, a few graduation tassels hung there instead. The truck was cleaner than I remember. No fast food cups littered the floor, but a couple half-empty water bottles were in the cup holders.

But it was the smell that got to me. That musk with a hint of spice… exactly like I remember. My body relaxed as Jin started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot, the same way I’d relax when holding onto his jacket back home.

It didn’t take too long to reach my grandparents’. Jini pulled in the driveway and shut the engine off, but neither of us moved. Jin stared at me, but I didn’t say anything, uncomfortably biting my lip and staring at the dashboard. “Y/n,” he murmured, causing me to look at him. I half-wished I hadn’t. His eyes were filled with that same look he gave me that night we kissed and made love, wide and perfectly brown.

“Why didn’t you come back after that summer?”

There it was. The question I’d been asking myself since I got here. I twisted my hands in my lap nervously. “Because… Because…”

“Tell me,” he said softly.

I pressed my lips together before releasing a loud sigh. “Because I was afraid.”

“Of what?”

“Of you moving on.”

Jin shook his head, chuckling. “Are you serious?”

I slowly nodded.

“Y/n, I couldn’t move on even if I wanted to. I loved you. I still… love you.”

My mouth parted open in surprise at his confession. “You do?”

Jin smiled and nodded. “Yeah. I tried to move on when I realized you weren’t coming back, I really did, but you were always in the back of my mind. Y/n, I’ve loved you since we were kids.”

I bit my lip, taking only a second to process before I unbuckled my seat belt and launched myself at him. Our lips pressed together, melding into the sweetest kiss I didn’t realize I missed with every fiber of my being. Jin wrapped a hand around the back of my neck, angling his jaw to deepen the kiss, and I threw my arms around his neck, trying in vain to draw him even closer.

We pulled apart, and I smiled as I took in Jin’s blown pupils, his lips reddening from being pressed to mine, his breath coming out in short gasps. “I love you, y/n,” he murmured. “I’ve always loved you.”

My smile grew. “I love you too, Jin.”

We continued kissing for what felt like forever before he pulled back, laughing and saying we needed to get the groceries inside. We unloaded the truck with the biggest grins, holding hands as we walked up to the house.

As I looked at Jin, the sun glinting off his dark locks, his smile lighting up my whole world, I found myself thinking that maybe there was a reason none of my relationships worked out. Maybe there was a reason I hadn’t found any opportunities coming my way after I graduated. And maybe, just maybe, I was exactly where I needed to be.

[red-pill-blue-pill]

Just to make you happy. Keanu Reeves.

A/N: This took me so long I’m so sorry. This is a request made by @i-ask-requests​ I really hope you enjoy it 💖. I hope it doesn’t feel rushed or anything cause I can feel it does. Also little sidenote: i’ve never been to New York i just researched a bit on google maps to get it as accurate as possible. 

Summary: She’s homeless and Keanu helps her out. 

Word count: 5341 (holy shit ??)

Warnings: swearing, violence.

She kicked an empty beer bottle as she exited the bar. The glass rattled on the cold concrete ground and the dainty sound echoed on the now empty street. She checked her watch as she walked away. 2:37 am. A sigh escaped her lips as she took a seat in a nearby bench. A few scraps and cuts decorated her face as a result of a small “disagreement” she just had back inside. She smiled satisfied as she reached into her pocket to pull out a leather wallet, opening it to count that night’s earnings. That asshole didn’t even notice. 

She put the wallet back in her pocket and blew her hot breath into the cold night air of New York as she sunk down on the bench. Her brain was going a hundred miles per hour trying to administer the one hundred dollars she had stolen. She had to spend the night somewhere, buy food and, since she didn't stay the night twice in the same place she needed to pay the small warehouse where she kept all her clothes. 

She had been wandering the streets for a couple of months now. Her job as a waitress didn’t provide an extraordinary income and the rent prices in New York had gone sky-high in the last few months, making it impossible for her to find a new appartment with an affordable rent price and a small deposit. She started renting rooms in hostels, the cheapest she could find and at the beginning it worked just fine. She managed to make ends meet at the end of the month and sometimes she even got some spare money to get herself a little treat. However the owner of her restaurant needed to reduce costs and that meant reducing staff. She was one of the first waitresses he fired. The compensation for loss of employment eventually faded away as she frantically looked for another job. Her lack of studies didn’t help and now she cursed her stupid young self for taking the decision of dropping out of high school. No one wanted to hire a former waitress apparently uneducated. 

When she had to leave the hostel she was completely desperate, she had to survive somehow and that was clear for her since day one. She was going to do anything she could to get enough money to survive. What was the easiest way? Stealing from men in bars. She was a beautiful woman and men bought her drinks willingly, all she had to do was some flirting and some touching here and there. Her skilled fingers slid on their pockets and fished their wallets without them noticing. It was risky and sometimes they got violent, resulting in fist fights and bottles flying. She was skilled in that too. Finally her teenage experiences came to some use; when she dropped out of school she worked as a waitress in her hometown. The bar was a dirty black hole filled with nasty men that always came in looking for trouble. She was the most vurnerable person and forcefully had to learn self defense to kick some ass a couple of times before clients finally realized she wasn’t the one to mess with.

And there she was, sitting on a dirty bench at almost 3 am under a night sky in which she couldn’t even make out a single star thanks to the streetlights that blinded her sight and made the black emptiness above her seem even darker. Her heels hurt her feet and she was certain she was going to catch a cold if she sat there any longer. She didn’t have a phone to look for hostels nearby, she didn’t need it, there wasn’t anyone she could call nor enough money to pay for ir. Luckily she knew the city by heart so she stood up and started walking through the streets like she had a small New York map loaded in her brain, not missing one turn, taking the fastest route.

When she got to the room she took her shoes off and threw herself on the bed, letting out a loud groan of relief. She grabbed paper and a pencil and counted the money once again. The numbers weren’t adding up, she was twenty dollars short if she counted on eating the next day. Her stomach rumbled, reminding her she completely forgot to eat something for dinner. Thanks pal, that’ll make it easier. She had to get more money, she had to go to Manhattan and find some fancy bar, one filled with those rich men that smoked cigars, that drank whiskey on the rocks, that had thousands of dollars on their wallet and a gram of coke up their nose. Those were easy targets, often being too high to notice what was going on.

She laid her head back on the pillow and drifted into a deep sleep. She dreamt. She dreamt of a house, of enough money to pay for a mechanography course, she dreamt of a good payed job and the possibility of having a family.

The next day she had woken up early in the morning, ready to follow the plan she had traced. She had skipped breakfast and taken a bus to the warehouse. She had chosen her fanciest dress, her highest heels and her make up bag and put it all in her duffel bag. She had gone to the best hairdressing salon in New York. If you’re going to pretend to mingle with rich people you better look like you are one of them.

She was now sitting in one of Central Station benches, waiting for the clock to hit eight o’clock. She looked at the people that came and went and tried to figure out their lives. Was that short haired woman married? Was that young man in a rush because he forgot to walk the dog? Did that child have a good day at school? Every life had its little nuances that made it unique and in her eyes it was beautiful, even though hers wasn’t as good as she wanted it to be. 

The four-faced clock marked the time and she stood up, almost robotically, heading towards the restrooms. She closed herself in one of the stalls and changed all her clothes. She bumped her knees and elbows against the walls and cursed everytime. This was supposed to be like some kind of movie where the hot spy changes clothes agilely and comes out like a diva turning heads as she walks away. Instead she found herself mistaking the sleeve for the actual head hole, loosing balance as she struggled to put on her shoes and messily putting away her previous clothes on her duffel bag. 

She walked out smoothing the soft fabric of her dress and pulling out her small make up bag, She leaned over the countertop and aplied a thin layer of mascara, a subtle blush and a stunning red lipstick that matched her dress and heels. She took a step back and admired her reflection. She looked ravishing. There was no way a man could resist her. 

She walked to one of the fanciest bars in Manhattan. Jazz music was playing softly in the background and the dim purple and yellow lights made the big place somewhat cozier. The counter was almost empty and she took a seat on one of the leather stools. The bartender came and went as well as the waitresses. The round tables were spread in front of the small stage and were filled with men and women that chattered and smoked incessantly. She made a signal to the bartender and ordered a gintonic. Shortly after, a well dressed man approached her. She played it cool, seeming uninterested.

“I’ve never seen you around.” he spoke as he ordered a whiskey on the rocks.

Bingo.

“I don’t come around often.” she spoke with a sensual tone of voice as she looked at him through her lashes. 

“I believe you. I’m pretty sure I would remember someone this stunning.” 

God, he was so bad at flirting she almost had to supress a laugh.

“I’m Michael.” he said offering his hand.

She took it and shook it lightly. “Nice to meet you. I’m Alice.” Obviously she wasn’t going to give her real name, duh.

They talked for a good half an hour. She was running short on things to tell him about her fake past and he just kept asking and asking. She still had her first Gintonic in her hand while he was on his fifth whiskey on the rocks. He was going to pass out soon if he kept this rythm. His once “great” flirting skills turned into even more awful ones and she knew this was her cue. 

She leaned into him and put her hands on his chest, pressing lightly against his body. His breath hitched and a smile spread across his face when one of her hands slid to his bulge squeezing it lightly. 

“Why don’t you wait for me while I go freshen up. Then you can take me to your place.” she whispered in his ear, licking his earlobe.

What he didn’t notice was the other hand skillfully sliding in this jacket’s inner pocket and pulling out his fat wallet with the subtlety of a professional pickpocketer. 

He smiled as he watched her walk away to the restroom and turned to the bartender to pay their beverages. When he reached out to take his wallet his blood ran cold and he frantically patted all the pockets of his outfit. The gears in his head started turning and his face went red with rage. His long lengs strided along the bar to the ladies restroom. He slammed the door open to find it completely empty. 

“That filthy bitch!” he screamed as he ran to the street, her red dress nowhere to be seen.

She walked through the street, duffel bag in hand and a proud smile plastered on her face. Her heels clicked fast on the concrete as she went back to Central Station to change her clothes again. She hadn’t opened the wallet yet but the weight of it told her she had enough money for at least a couple of weeks. 

She sat on the bathroom stall and went through every single bill she could find. Two thousand and thirty five dollars. That was a whole lot of money. At least it was for her. Her smile grew even bigger and she decided it was time to give her stomach a little treat.

Her favourite New York restaurant wasn’t a fancy one, hell, it didn’t even have an actual “inside.” It was a small street food truck that sold kebab and turkish food. It had a little counter with stools you could sit on if you were lucky enough. She ordered her usual kebab plate and her mouth watered as they prepared the meal. Her stomach groaned reminding her she hadn’t eaten anything for a whole ass day, making her feel bad for forgetting about her wellbeing. 

The stars were aligned and a free stool was waiting for her. She quickly occupied it before digging into her food. The man sitting next to her chuckled as he watched her from the corner of his eye. He had never seen someone devour food the way she was doing it. She stopped and turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow.

“What’s so funny?” she said with her mouth still full.

“Nothing. I’m sorry.” he answered feeling bad with his own rudeness. He lowered his head and kept eating his food while she stared at him. 

He didn’t look like the type to have a lot of money; his brown boots were a dirty mess and his jeans were torn at the bottom. His unkept beard gave him a wild yet sexy touch and his shoulder length dark hair seemed as soft as silk. She was convinced his wallet wasn’t worth the risk. Besides, it would be pure greed.

“Now you’re staring.” he said turning to her once again, catching her eyes inspecting him. A cheeky grin was plastered on his face, in the end he didn’t feel that bad for laughing at her. 

She was younger than him, twenty years more or less. Her eyes still had that curiosity and wonder that contrasted with her tired face. She was beautiful.

Her cheeks turned red but she kept her tough side on the surface. “Now we’re even.” 

He chucked and offered his hand to her “I’m Keanu.” 

She took it and shook it firmly. “I’m Y/n.”

Silence settled between them as they kept eating. There hardly is something as hard to endure as solitude. It creeps into your life and, before you can even notice, it roots under your skin, sinking into the deepest parts of your mind. It was in moments like this that it seemed to dissapear, a wave of relief washing over them and leaving them at peace for a couple of minutes.

“I laughed at the way you were engulfing the food. You looked so happy.” he broke the silence before putting a spoon full of rice into his mouth.

“It’s been a long time since I had a meal this good.” she said sincerely and he raised an eyebrow.

“How come?” 

“It’s been a rough couple of months.” 

He stared at her, inviting her to tell him more about her life. She hesitated. He was a complete stranger why would he care? She hadn’t had a real human conection since she was fired and she could use some venting so she went ahead.

She told him everything and, to her surprise, he seemed genuinely interested in her rant about New York rent prices and how her boss was an asshole. His eyes watched her every movement, nodding his head ocassionally to let her know he was still listening. 

When she finished silence filled the air between the two of them. Y/n was scared he would report the police about her illegal... procedures. She would understand though, at the end of the day she was living outside society norms and rules. She was an outcast.

She had never thought it that way and it hurt to think of herself as that. Everyone wanted to be part of something, even she wanted to be part of something. But not a part of that society that had condemned her to a life of poverty and misdemeanour. It made her so fucking mad to think about how everything had turned out in the end.

He put his hand on her shoulder. The warmth of his palm radiated through her clothes into her skin. “What can I do for you?” 

His question took her aback. What was he willing to do for her? They didn’t know eachother at all. Okay, maybe he also felt that weird connection but it wasn’t that strong.  

A loud laugh came out her mouth and she quickly put her hand over to muffle the sound. “I’m sorry, it’s just, we don’t know eachother.”

“I’ll pay for your course." he smiled sweetly leaving her with mouth agape.

“You’re crazy. No way you’re doing that.”

“Yes, I am. And I’m also paying for an apartment until you finish and get a job.”

She laughed again finding it hard to believe. “No you’re not.”

“For the second time: yes, I am. You need it.”

“I don’t need anything from anyone.” her pride kicked back before she could even process what she was saying.

“I’m pretty sure you do. Look, don’t think of it like charity or something like that because it’s not. I want to help you before you get involved with the police.” 

“Why do you care that much?”

He shrugged his shoulders and tilted his head to the side. “You told me your story and even though you try to laugh at yourself I can see you’re hurting. So I care. And I want to help you.” 

She didn’t know what to say so she just stared back at him. He completely got her all figured out and they had only been talking for an hour. What the actual fuck.

“So you’re going to take the money and shut up.” he spoke again smiling even bigger.

Her mind was racing. This was a huge opportunity to scape the hell hole she found herself in but she didn’t want to owe anything to no one. 

Finally her desperation won. “Okay, but you have to let me pay you back.”

-

She walked out of class. It had been a couple months since she started the mecanography course and she had never been happier. Sometimes Keanu would pick her up to grab a coffee and ask her how she was. Y/n would always insist in looking for a job and paying him back as soon as possible but it was like talking to a wall. He changed topic and pretended he didn’t hear a word she said. 

They became good friends, really good friends in fact. He was the only one she really had, the only one who worried about her, who knew her real story. Hell, he was supporting her financially. 

The age difference, big enough to notice it but small enough to confuse, made people turn their heads on the street trying to figure out whether he was her father or her boyfriend. At the beginning it made them both feel uncomfortable but now they laughed as they watched the faces laced with confusion. 

Sometimes she was confused herself. Her feelings were a complete mess. He would often come to her (his, really) place to have dinner, helping her cook and dancing around the kitchen to the bouncy music she usually listened to. In those moments she knew she couldn’t ask for anything else.

Then she felt stupid. He was a grown up man, with his life almost figured out and supporting her financially. She was still studying and was barely starting to live a normal life. He had much important things to do than to fall for a young needy girl with a dark past. 

He was also confused when he looked at her. She amazed him. How she always stayed positive, how confident of herself she was, how kind. One must think he liked her in spite of her past, but it was the other way around. He liked her because she had faced difficulties and she had been capable of overcoming them. Of course he helped her, he could see that potential from the moment he looked at her, but that didn’t diminish her endeavor. 

He loved spending time with her, it felt like they complimented eachother perfectly. They could be completely themselves around one another. There wasn’t secrets, lies or problems between them, they always talked everything through. Completely transparent.

He felt as if he had to protect her. Protect her from pain, from loneliness, from ending up living in the streets again. It was something he had never felt, an instictive response from his brain, and if he was being honest, he didn’t care where it came from, he was going to do it anyway. 

-

It was dark outside. Manhattan’s streets were eerily quiet that night. Noise and smoke came out the bars whose doors opened to let people take a breath of fresh air. She walked at a fast pace. Keanu had said to meet him two streets away and she was already late. Her heels clicked on the pavement and her hair swung from side to side in a steady rythm. She would lie if she said tonight’s look hadn’t been meticulously thought through. Her black jeans were combined with a silver sequin top that shimmered in the city night lights. A leather jacket was thrown over her shoulders and her silver heels added the final touch. Her make-up was natural, nothing he could notice even if he tried. She wanted to look as effortless as she could. 

A man walked past her, bumping her shoulder hard. He reeked of alcohol and she didn’t even bother saying something, it wasn’t the place or moment to get in trouble. She kept walking but the man stopped in his tracks, turning around to look at her back.

“Well look who’s back in the neighborhood!” he yelled at her and the blood ran cold in her veins. 

She stopped walking for a couple of seconds, resuming her fast pace trying to walk away as fast as possible. She knew who he was.

“Come back here, you bitch! I want my fucking wallet back!” he ran towards her, his long legs striding faster than hers, almost catching up with her a few seconds later.

Her heart was pounding in her head as she tried to run faster but her heels weren't make it easy. She was almost where Keanu told her to meet him but it seemed so far away. 

A big hand grabbed her shoulder, yanking her back harshly and making her loose her balance. In seconds she was laying on the floor while a huge body pinned her tiny one down with such force she though he was going to break her arms. A raging face looked down on her with a stare full of hatred and violence. She had never seen something like it.

“I thought I’d never see you again.” he snarled as his fist collided with her cheekbone. She screamed in pain and fear, knowing he was going to do whatever he wanted and no one would stop him. 

“You stole my fucking checkbook, my credit cards, my fucking money!” he hit her again and again, and her screams echoed in the street. 

“I’m going to fucking ruin you, you filthy whore!” he raised his hand again ready to punch her one more time and she closed her eyes, not wanting to see what was coming to her. But it never came. 

The weight over her body dissapeared and she opened her eyes.

The man was now with his back to the wall with a very angry Keanu keeping him pressed against it. His face was bloody as Keanu’s fist collided with it over and over again. 

She stood up and rushed to his side grabbing his shoulders. “Please, stop!” Y/n cried as his fist stopped beating the man’s face. 

She sighed in relief as Keanu towered over the beaten man, holding the neck of his shirt. “If you ever hit, touch or even look at her again I swear to god I’ll fucking kill you.” his tone was still laced with anger and she thought she was lucky to not be the one he was talking to. 

The man nodded and ran away as fast as he could. 

A cry erupted from her throat as she slowly realized what had just happened. She was almost killed, for god’s sake. It had been the scariest moment of her life. Not when she had to tell her mom she was dropping school, not when she got fired, not when she decided to trust Keanu. 

He wrapped his arms around her and pressed her against his chest. “It’s okay, honey. I promise.” he whispered soothingly. She was staining his tshirt and jacket, a mix of blood and salty tears but he didn’t care, he didn’t give a damn. 

He took her to the hospital to get her face checked out in case she needed stitches. They sent her home at 12 pm and they walked to her appartment since it was close to the ER.

Her face, now clean, looked so much better even though it was starting to swell and it hurt like a bitch. They walked in silence, their steps synchronized and slow, there was no rush. Neither of them really knew what to say.

“I’m sorry I ruined the night.” she said looking at her feet as she walked. “I guess past always comes to get you.” she laughed bitterly. She thought she had left everything behind but in the end you can’t erase a part of yourself. Her actions still had consequences and that night was the proof she needed.

“It wasn’t your fault. He was the one who beat your face up.” he mumbled still angry. 

“Yes it was. I stole his wallet the night we met, that’s why he-”

“I dont fucking care!” he suddenly screamed at her and she stopped in her tracks. “That fucking bastard had you pinned down on the street ready to beat you to death! Don’t you understand? If I hadn’t showed up he would’ve killed you!” he ran his hand through his hair as her eyes filled with tears at his sudden outburst.

She stared at her, anger now boiling inside of her. “Thank you for being my saviour once again, I’ll write it down in my ‘thing’s I owe Keanu’ notebook so you won’t need to remind me everything you do for me.” she spat, her words filled with hurt.

She started to walk away.

“You don’t understand shit.” he said and she turned around.

“What? What is it that I don’t understand?” Y/n yelled back at him. “That you’re always doing stuff for me? That you’re the only one I’ve got? That if you hadn’t been there tonight-” she choked on her tears at the single thought. “I already feel bad enough for not being able to return everything you do for me.” 

He looked at her. Her face was swollen and wet from the tears that fell uncontrollably. “I’d spend on you all the money I have if that meant you would be happy.” 

She stayed silent as more tears came down.

“When I saw him on top of you something in my mind clicked and I went into full ‘murder mode.’” he chuckled and she smiled slightly. “I felt pure fear when I saw you weren’t moving. The thought of losing you is terrifying.” he stated simply. So simply she actually needed a couple of seconds to register.

Keanu walked towards her and she hugged him tight, feeling his strong heartbeat pumping against her cheek. “I didn’t mean that notebook thing I said, I’m sorry.” she mumbled as she wiped her tear stained cheeks.

“I know, honey. I’m sorry I yelled at you.” he kissed and rested his chin on the top of her head. 

They stayed like that for a minute, just hearing their breathings and hugging eachother, trying to get as close to one another as they could. The cold wind blew past them making Y/n shiver and bury her face deeper into the embrace. 

“Let’s go, you’re getting cold.” he whispered and let go. 

They kept walking and she chuckled lightly.

“What?” he asked with an amused look on his face.

“I had carefully prepared this outfit and my make up to look amazingly casual so you would think I was effortlessly cute.” she gestured to her clothes. “And look how it turned out.” she let out a laugh, a sincere one. She didn’t know why but she just couldn’t stop it. Tears prickled in her eyes as she tried to stop her laughter.

Keanu had a confused look on his face but she was contagious and it didn’t take long for him to join her with his soft low laugh that made her crazy. 

By the time their fits of laughter had died down they had arrived to her building. She stopped with her keys dangling in her hand and turned to look at him. She wanted to invite him upstairs just as she had done for about a thousand times before, but this time it was different. All her courage was suddenly gone and she couldn’t get the words out of her mouth. 

“I always think you’re cute.” he blurted out, leaving her with a confused expression. “What you said about your efforts to make me think you looked cute. I already think you are, even when you come out of class with your tired stare and shitty face.” he said laughing, earning a slap on his arm while her face grew redder by the nanosecond. 

“Shut up!” she laughed brushing it off. “Would you like to come upstairs? I could use some company tonight.” she mumbled and squinted her eyes waiting for a negative answer to come.

“Of course. I’ll feel better too if I keep an eye on you.” he smiled warmly and she turned to open the door.

-

“I know I tell you all the time but you did a great work decorating your place. It’s very you.” he sat down on the couch as she went to get some clothes for him to sleep on.

“Very me?” she asked from her room while she opened the closet.

“Yeah, there’s no doubt this is your place. Like, not a single piece of furniture in here is actually yours but you add those little details that end up owning the whole place. Just like you do in people's lives."

"That's so sweet. Does that mean I own your life now?" Y/n said as she came back into the living room with a big tshirt and some sweats big enough to fit him. 

“Pretty much.” He smiled as he took the clothes. 

He went into the bathroom to change while she redied her bed. It was pretty clear that they were going to sleep in the same bed and she wanted him to take the hint. The bed clothing was smoothed out and the extra cushions were lying on the floor. 

She thought about what he had just said. It's always nice for someone to tell you that you are a big part of their life but she didn't know she was so important. Butterflies flew around in her stomach making her feel silly for being so childish.

“That’s a lot of cushions.” he chucked from the doorway as he watched her. 

“Well, I like being comfortable.” she said sticking out her tongue “I’ll be right back.”

She closed the bathroom door behind her and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her face was all swollen up and purple and black-ish bruises were slowly forming. It still hurt like hell but there was nothing she could do. 

When she came back into her room he was lying on the bed with his back turned to her. His body was rising up and down slowly with his relaxed breathing. She had never seen him so at peace.

She carefully got on the bed trying not to disturb his apparent sleep. The bed shuffled and he turned to look at her. His arms sneaked around her waist and pulled her closer to him, careful not to squish her face against his chest. Her hand reached around him to draw patterns on his back. She felt complete ecstasy. The way his body heat radiated onto hers made her feel at ease, it was everything she ever wanted. 

“Thank you for everything you do for me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Y/n mumbled against his chest, her cheeks burning at the oncoming confession. “I love you.” 

It didn’t hold any romantic meaning (okay, maybe a little bit), it was the truth, plain and simple. He was her best friend, her number one supporter. She couldn’t imagine her life without him and, of course, he couldn’t either. 

“Thank you for coming into my life. You make me so happy.” he kissed softly the top of her head and rested his chin on it. “I love you too, honey. So much.” he whispered.

Her whole body tingled at the sound of those words. She was happy. For the first time in months she was truly happy. 

Her mind travelled to the night she dreamt of living in a big house with her husband and her kids, having that normal life people had. It was only then when it hit her:

she didn’t want a “normal” life, she wanted hers. 

[jksangelic]

in the dark (m)

☾ Rating: M

☾ Genre: pwp, smut, slight crack, very minimal scary times.

☾ Pairing: jikook x female reader (kinda, read the warnings).

☾ Warnings: explicit sexual content, threesome, light male x male action (kissing, their peepees touch but only because of), double vaginal penetration,  oral (female receiving), casual sex, unprotected sex, they fuck in jungkook’s truck, maybe a slight noona kink? sorry.

☾ Summary: “I can’t get a signal on my phone, the car is dead, and I’m fairly certain we are out of matches.”

Jungkook and Jimin have a very short attention span, and when you three are lost in the middle of nowhere with a truck that won’t drive, they busy themselves with you.

☾ Word Count: 6.1k

☾ Note: Here’s another exciting project done for Halloween Smut Fest, hosted by the wonderful admins of @/btssmutclub! I hope you love this little Halloween treat as much as I loved writing it, and if you want more deliciously spooky smut, please check out the club and all it’s wonderful writers!

Another note: I was supposed to post this on Halloween but ya girl was shleep! Anyway, this story was really fun to write considering it’s my first attempt at writing threesome smut! I really hope you all enjoy, and feel free to send me an ask if you liked it personally! (wink)

Another ‘NOTHER note: the “Read More” function is in here so don’t flame me.

You really felt the part, itching yourself in this god-awful over-sized knit sweater that screamed “cactus that died twice over!”. The faux flora that was hot glued on one boob threatened to fall off and if you knew your costume would be this much of a mess, you would’ve just gone for your signature devil that reappeared in the corner of your closet every Halloween. Fuck originality.

“How the hell do you get lost in the same town you’ve lived in for years, Jungkook?” you simmer, itching your bare legs with vigor. For the love of all things pure, this sweater is shedding.

Jungkook grips his steering wheel hard enough that you see his veins threatening to burst, “Well, shit, man. I’m not the one who wanted to take a pit stop at a boba dive that I’ve never been to before. I live in the boonies; no one around here should even know what ‘boba’ is.”

“You didn’t even like it,” he continues, “I told you that we should’ve just head straight to the store and then to Jin-hyung’s house.” You pout, it wasn’t your fault the tapioca was soggy.

“My phone doesn’t have any service,” Jimin pitches in, leaning atop the center console from the backseat with a voice of annoyance. Groaning, you coax your phone to turn on once more. All you get is a tantalizing depleted battery.

“And you left your phone at home? What kind of millennial are you?” you bag on Jungkook, completely horrified by the fact that he nervously rakes his eyes on every passing sign, turning hesitantly only to pull a U-turn, biting his bottom lip and picking at the fuzz on his cheek with his free hand. There was no sugarcoating it. He was lost beyond all comprehension of the word.

“Y/N, literally shut up. If you weren’t stuck to your phone 24/7, you’d have enough battery right now to get us back into town.”

“You’re such an ass, Kook. You’re lucky we even went with you in the first place to get the snacks you vouched to buy and forgot until thirty minutes into the party.”

“Both of you! Stop eating each other’s asses and shut up! I can’t hear my own farts back here,” Jimin growls, turning to Jungkook, “just keep driving, we’re bound to get back on a main road at some point. If you keep turning randomly, we’ll just keep getting fucked.” He was right. The more Kook authorized a new direction, the more the landscape changed and morphed into nothing recognizable.

“Yeah, no shit,” Jungkook spits with an added eye roll, “but there aren’t even signs anymore. I haven’t seen a house in the last five minutes. This is so weird,” he trails off in thought. Fog eventually clouded around the truck, getting denser until you all eased into soft white. Jungkook drove cautiously slow in fear of hitting deer;  you were deep enough in the woods to do so.

It was beautiful in a creepy, Halloweenish way. It was the perfect night for the cold to bite and the moon to smile down menacingly, if only you were in the right place for it.

You sigh, “I wanna be at the party.”

Jimin scoffs, “Don’t we all. What are you even supposed to be?”

Pulling your itchy-ass sweater over your knees, you click your tongue, “I’m obviously a cactus. Can’t you see my thorns?” you pick at the random frayed knots woven into the cloth, pulling them to a point to exaggerate their spikes.

“Why couldn’t you do something sexy? No one wants to get laid with a cactus,” Jimin criticizes. You shrug. Not everyone understands the importance of ingenuity.

“No one wants to get laid by a mummy that only got their neck embalmed,” you retort, eyeing his all-white outfit with, not even joking, three rolls of toilet paper resting atop his shoulders. He didn’t even bother to get the good kind of teepee, 1-ply threatening to be blown away by Jungkook’s measly heater. “Even Kookie’s costume is better, and he painted the bones himself, for heaven’s sake.”

You both study said costume, a plain black long sleeve (way too small but damn it really hugged him in the right spots) messily painted with an anatomically incorrect skeleton on the front and alongside his sleeves. Jungkook snickers, “Look, I even drew a boner,” pointing to where the material is tucked into his skinny jeans and, yes, noticing a random bone sticking out of his pants.

“Penises don’t even—I don’t know. I can’t argue when its an eight out of ten Halloween pun,” you surrender.

The chatter dies down as Jungkook drives around aimlessly, your continuous glances at the clock failing to slow it down so you can get to the store and to Jin’s house before Hoseok drank everything out of the liquor cabinet. You didn’t know how to read a map, not that it mattered since Jungkook would never have one in his glovebox, but damn it all, you really were stuck and were potentially risking crossing the border to another country for all you knew. It would be a lovely, nostalgic feeling to be yelling at each other over a paper map instead, though, aesthetically pleasing and all that good stuff.

Jungkook’s face scrunches, leaning back to peer at his dashboard then leaning back in. He runs his hand through his hair and repeats the set of actions, looking at it closer like he was trying to read another language. It’s on his third round that you stare at him blankly, expecting him to explain why he’s fidgeting like a toddler on two packs of jolly ranchers and a monster.

“Fuck, oh my god. Ohmygodohmygodohmy—,” he panics, laughing as if he’s gone mad.

“Jungkook? What’s wrong with you?” Jimin asks.

The truck sputters and heaves on its wheels, easing itself off the side of the pavement and into the rocky soil. Nearly breaks the gearshift when he shoves it into park and shuts off the engine with an exasperated bleat.

“I—I didn’t think… My dashboard doesn’t calculate how many miles I have left like newer cars and I knew I needed to stop by the gas station but I was going to fill it up when we went to the store so I thought we’d be fine but I forgot when we got lost and—”

“Wait, shut up for a second. Just get to the point,” you rub at your temples, wanting him to strictly verbalize what you already know is happening.

“We’re out of gas. And I just used the rest of what’s in my extra gas can. We’re stuck.”

It takes a few empty stares between you and the boys for your denial to kick in, “That’s funny. You’re funny, Jungkook. It would be so completely idiotic of you to forget to get gas and just now remembering when we’re stuck on some empty country road with no working cellphones and nowhere for us to get help nearby. So tell me you’re joking.”

Jungkook stares straight through the windshield, simultaneously worrying his bottom lip with his teeth. You swear you can hear his heart beating in his ribcage. Turning on the ceiling light, you flash him a bright smile before lunging for his neck. Jimin catches you before you strangle the rest of his IQ out of him and coos you into sedation, “Hey, okay, bringing a dead body into the situation is not optimal!”

“Look, it’s not my fault! I thought we were going straight to the store but you had to change our course,” Jungkook defends.

“Any sane human would just say, ‘Oh, hey, I have to stop by the gas station first because we’re running on empty,’ but no,” you draw out the “o” with squinted eyes and venom in your voice, “you always have to challenge the odds, don’t you? Now we’re stuck out here in the middle of fucking whoknowswhere!”

“You’re being so dramatic, Y/N.”

Your pitch is way above normal, “You’re a dumbass!”

“You’re a bitch!”

“Chill out! The both of you!” Jimin yells, hands still securing your arms to their sides in case you were to claw out anyone’s eyes. “The sooner we find help, the sooner we can get out of this predicament. Let’s try to find a nearby house and see if we can use their phone. There’s bound to be a living soul somewhere around here. I already texted Tae our location, but my phone has yet to deliver it. Sitting here and doing nothing isn’t an option. Let’s go.”

You exhale harshly through your nostrils, nodding your head obediently and signing a truce through eye contact with Kook. “Should one of us stay here just in case a car passes?” you offer.

“I’ll stay here. Sorry, but a single female in an inoperable car is a little sketchy. Can you two function properly or do you need to stay here and think about your actions, Kookie?” Jimin drawls. Jungkook scoffs on cue and is already halfway out the door when the question is asked.

“Why can’t I stay here with you? Jungkook can look by himself,” you whine.

“Someone is more likely to help a couple than some random dude who’s roaming the street by himself. Please, Y/N.”

He was right. Hopping out of the truck, you pull your sweater as far down it can go and bounce on your toes. Damn, it was brisk outside. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” Kook says, dripping with sarcasm. The road ahead stretched so far that it disappeared over the horizon uninterrupted. A straight shot. The only source of light is barely graced by a last quarter moon and you decide in your own head that it’s time to forgive and forget, clinging to Jungkook’s arm for warmth and a sense of security.

“Scared?” he asks without a hint of mockery. You shrug. You weren’t sure yet.

Pacing yourselves between a jog and a walk, it seems like way too long of seeing absolutely nothing; the trees and the fog and the road blending together and becoming so unrecognizable that you worry your mind is playing tricks on you. Even worse, you shake vehemently from the cold, goosebumps eating you alive.

“F-F-Fuck, Jungkook. Should we try going the opposite w-way?” your teeth chatter, “We shouldn’t go too—” He covers your mouth with his palm, the rest of your words mumbled into his clammy hand and your body stopped in its tracks.

“What is it?” you try again, licking his skin in attempt to drive his grimy little paw off.

“Shut up!” he whisper-yells, eyes focused on something in the distance off the road. Following his line of sight, it takes a few seconds for your eyes to adjust to what he sees: two warmly glowing orbs far off in the distance. The pace of your heart quickens at the sight, ecstatic to finally see something.

“Lights! It might be the entry to someone’s driveway! Jungkook, c’mon.” He wraps his arms around your body once more to keep it from surging farther down the street, impossibly warm against your back and this time you can feel his heartbeat through the layer of clothes. It beat fast and hard, telltale for the occasional emotion Jungkook hardly ever felt in all his years of living: fear.

“Those aren’t lights,” he breathes into your ear, eyes filled to the brim with dread and voice wavering. “It’s getting closer, what the hell.” Jungkook is right. You stare at them as the mysteriously yellow orbs inch, no, run to the both of you and it’s only then that you realize that they’re eyes.

“Run, fuck, don’t scream, runrunrun,” Kook squeaks as he death-grips your hand and sprints in front of you, your own legs catching up to him before you can fully process what’s going on. Terror suddenly rips through your limbs, propelling you forward like it’s all you knew what to do but even then, Jungkook struggles to keep you alongside him, breathless encouragements like “it’s okay” or “keep running” or “a little faster” keeping you from even thinking of stopping. He could run ahead of you, but here he was, desperately pulling you behind his body that was obviously much more fit for running than yours. Tears prick at your eyes.

You must have walked for miles since it takes another ten-or-so minutes before you see the silhouette of his truck that was, at that moment, the most beautiful hunk of metal you ever laid your eyes on. Porsche’s had nothing on Jungkook’s dinky old pickup.

Opening a rear door, Jungkook all but shoves you atop Jimin before jumping in himself, not bearing the thought of having to sit in the front seat alone. Jimin watches with a bewildered look as you two struggle to catch your breaths, peeking out the front windshield to see if the eyes were anywhere in sight. Thank the heavens, they weren’t.

You curl into Jimin’s chest and bite back sobs of anxiety. “What the hell was that?”

“Was what?” Jimin finally inquires, clutching you close despite lack of an explanation.

“There was something, a bear or a wolf or something. It started chasing us,” Kook informs, a questioning lilt in his answer because he didn’t really know. “God, those eyes. It looked tall, I don’t even know if it was an animal.”

“I’m not going back outside. Neither are you,” you deadpan, “not when that thing is out there.” The boys nod in agreement.

“Hey, it’ll be okay. I’m sure Tae will get our message soon and he’ll come get us. We just need to stay here and be patient,” Jimin says comfortingly.

Jungkook tsks, “What if he doesn’t?” Jimin punches his arm and he yelps in pain.

“If worse comes to worse,” Jimin glares at the younger, “then we stay in the truck until it gets light enough to look for houses without worrying about being mauled by bears or wolves or deer or anything of the like. Each of us will take turns as lookout just in case anyone passes by. We’ll be fine, okay, Y/N?” He must notice your quaking so you shake your head in compliance.  After a few minutes of discussion, you properly seat yourself in the middle and bring your knees to your chin, foreboding residing and the bitter cold seeping back into your list of things that suck tonight.

The first thirty minutes pass as if it’s several hours, games of rock-paper-scissors and skeptical scopes out of the windows unbearably monotonous. Jimin’s sudden force of bladder earns a heated debate of whether or not you would allow him outside or not, eventually approving when Jungkook offers an empty beer can and you’d much rather not. At the time Jimin staggers out of the vehicle, you perceive that the temperature both within the truck and outside have reached equilibrium and try your best not to whimper at the fact.

“Why don’t you try to sleep, Y/N? We can stay up for now,” Jungkook offers after another twenty minutes of the knife game (but with a mechanical pencil), hands now shuffling over his biceps to stimulate heat.

“Can’t. Too cold,” your breath puffs between your lips.

“It’s because you’re not wearing pants, sweets,” Jimin starts, pulling his long sleeve by the collar and over his head before laying it over your thighs politely. When you open your mouth to claim that you don’t need it, you throw all of your manners away because damn his shirt is warm on your prickled legs. Besides, seeing Jimin’s protruding muscles from his immodest tank wasn’t the worst thing.

The younger scoffs, “God, hyung, you’re just trying to show off.” He tilts his head in a demeaning manner, an odd tension ricocheting between the men.

“What? No, you little shit. She said she was cold so I’m trying to keep her warm.” Jimin only receives a belittling tch.

Hubris truly was one of Jungkook’s worst faults, you and Jimin incredulous when his hands lift your waist so you plop down between his lap, one of his legs resorting where you sat before and holding you close to his chest. While you struggle to pry his arms off, he only looks towards his hyung and gives him an award-winning smirk, “I’ll keep her warmer.”

“J-Jungkook, what the fuck are you doing?” you ask, shuddering when he massages the meat of your thigh.

“I’m just trying to make you feel better,” he purrs, looming over your shoulder, “am I warm?” And even though every siren in your head blares, you melt into his heater-like body because, yes, he was warm. Who were you to deny such an offer? So you hum your answer.

Jungkook victoriously peeps at Jimin through his eyelashes, breath fanning against your shoulder, “See?”

Jimin raises an unimpressed brow, rolling his eyes before stretching out as far as he can with limited leg room and rests his arms behind his head with ease. You watch as every muscle beneath his tank moves and extends, pecs scandalously flexing in his newfound position.

You squint, “I don’t know what the hell you two are doing, but you better stop it.”

“What? You were so scared and cold, poor thing, I’m just trying to distract you,” his palms press against your hips, digging his crotch into your tailbone, “You shouldn’t be so irked, it’s not like we haven’t done this before.���

Images flash through your mind like kaleidoscope; a scorching hot kaleidoscope that left you writhing in his sheets in a wet, moaning mess. Suddenly appreciative of how dark it is as so the boys can’t see your flustered features, you sneer, “That was a long time ago, Kook.”

Jimin’s interest must be piqued, watching him slither over and pout in your face, “Ahh, you’ve fucked Jungkook too? You didn’t tell me.” He looks thoroughly disappointed. Jimin was one of your closest friends but it didn’t mean you were obligated to inform him of every sex endeavor you’ve ever experienced. Even more so when he was on that list, several times, it just made things awkward.

If the sirens were blaring earlier, your head was aflame by now, two horny men toying with you like predators to their prey. “What’s it to you mongrels? I can do what I want.”

“Who was better?” For some reason you can’t differentiate either of their voices when they’re both low, husky, full of hunger, but you just guess it’s Jungkook, the competitive bastard.

“I’m not fucking doing this with you two right now, do you know what situation we’re in? Please keep your dicks tucked.”

“I kinda see a great opportunity to rid our boredom and warm up the car a bit,” Jimin soothes, pressing cold, plump lips to your propped knee, fingers weaving in the hem of your sweater, “Don’t you agree, Kookie?”

He foregoes answering his counterpart, keen on squeezing the answer out of you (quite literally, as his hands grip the plush skin of your inner leg), “Answer me,” he growls into the crook of your neck.

“Fuck,” your breath hitches and fails to brave a front, “I don’t know. You were both good in different ways. Kn-knock it off, Jeon.”

“But it’s been so long, noona. Let us take care of you. C’mon, I need a yes.” By this time, Jimin starts suckling on the opposite collarbone, hands flat on your stomach but never daring to touch lower nor higher until you give them your unwavering permission. You purr like a kitten and do what he fails to do, gliding his hands until he reached soft, supple breast and kneading your fingers through his.

Startled by your ministrations, Jimin releases his wet lips from your neck and stares through your eyes with primal want; need, even. It made your bones melt.

“So, do you guys do this often? Share your meals?” you say into his lips, pulling on the bottom between your teeth and eliciting a grunt from the boy.

“We share a lot of things, doll,” he mumbles back, tongue sweet for a reason unknown, a sickeningly sweet poison enwrapping you in sheer desire. Jungkook grows impatient, hooking palms under your knees to spread them up and apart, no shame in getting to the point. Despite the lack of light, the new position steals Jimin’s attention as he stares at what you hide between your legs.

“Thought it’d make it easier for you to get to, hyung,” Kook offers wickedly.

“Are we really doing this right now? Just going to have a threesome in the back of your truck, Kookie?”

“Do you not want to?”

“No I do, it’s just fucking cramped back here.”

You’re not facing him but you practically feel the satirical eye roll, “Sorry, princess, should I lay out a blanket in the middle of the road? Would that accommodate more to your specifications?”

“Better watch your mouth, or you’ll be watching me and Jimin only.”

He humps into your back once, well near whining into your ear, “Okay, ‘m sorry.”

All the while, Jimin prodded at your clothed sex with a thumb, long strokes from above your clit to the edge of your perineum, drawing out patterns that made your stomach flex in anticipation. “Jimin, please.”

Jungkook pipes in, “Are you going to taste her? I can smell her from here. Smells good.” Jimin quite likes the idea, pushing your legs even higher to sniff you himself, nose buried deep in the fabric and breathing you in. Occasional nips send shivers in your loins, audible gasps urging him on for more, please, more. Rather, he takes to the moldable flesh of your inner thigh, mouthing at it so ferociously that the spots ache but it only sends you further. You did love foreplay, after all.

Jungkook’s rutting cock to your tailbone doesn’t go unnoticed, looking back at the devilishly angelic face, eyes sewn shut as his focus tapers in to the movements of his hips, looking for any sort of relief. Feeling a little victorious, your words drip with pride, “Rutting like some sort of dog, huh?” His eyes snap open at your exclamation, warning, but never opposing. At the same time Jungkook shuts you up with his tongue in your mouth, Jimin sticks his own in your eager pussy, both boys lapping into your heats with such vigor that you had no distinct feeling of either—it all blended into euphoric bliss.

Kook swallows your moans without a complaint, teeth and tongue colliding into something so completely unorganized that it was pornographic. The older moans while collecting every drop of arousal he can, pretty nose rubbing against your bud, thumbs spreading your lips beautifully and sinful tongue working wonders in and out of you.

“Feel good, babydoll?” Jungkook mutters in the midst of open-mouthed kisses, “Jimin’s real good with his mouth, ain’t he?” The opposite chuckles at the mention, watching you cry in joy as he sucks your clit between his teeth. “Hyung, what does she taste like? Prep her for me, will you?”

Jimin halts his attention to you, taking a moment to stretch his back in the confined space that seemed to sway with his movements, chin dribbling with so much you that for even the smallest of moments, even you were a little ashamed. He winks at you, “Why don’t you taste her yourself?”

The proposition makes your face scrunch; the thought of having to rearrange so Jungkook could eat you out seems excessive, denoting your trait of lazy loving above all. What you find instead, is Jimin’s handsome face nearing yours, only to avoid you completely and inch closer over the shoulder Jungkook relies on. Watching Jimin slide his overly-moist tongue into Jungkook’s willing lips leveled to living in a wet dream, you can’t help but moan as your two closest friends elicit lewd smacking sounds from one another, drool accumulating so incredibly that it leaks down onto your skin. Fuck.

Your obnoxious whining is what separates Jimin from his other half with a rather reluctant growl, calming your rowdy self with a kiss of your own, strings of their saliva still connected as he transitions from Kook to you.  His mouth sears, leaving you to believe that you’re quite literally melting into those god-gifting lips and you’ve never been more heated from a simple kiss in your entire being. Jungkook takes to his jeans, releasing his member from its restraints and giving himself a few sluggish tugs, knuckles scraping along your spine as he pumps.

“I don’t need to be prepped, just get on with it, Kookie.” Jimin quirks an impressed smirk.

“Oh? I appreciate the offer, but I don’t think that’s how you ask for me, Y/N, you know that.”

“Fuck, Jeon, please fuck me, I’m begging you. Jus’ need to be filled,” you admit, using wobbly arms to try to hoist yourself up. Jimin does the rest, lifting your hips to sit on Jungkook’s lap, and even more importantly, propping you onto his dick all at once, girth stretching you oh so wonderfully that you squirm in his hold. The latter groans at the slick intrusion, hips hastily rolling upwards without prompt, but you don’t complain.

“You really didn’t need to be prepped, huh? You fit so nicely around me. Why’s that, babydoll?” he snarls, hands upon hands gripping your ass and beneath your thighs, keeping you in a hovered position above Kook so he can ceaselessly pound into you from mid-shaft to hilt, over and over and over. You wail in their clutches, hysterical in the feeling and arching beyond your limits so he can hit that aching spot deep inside you.

“Answer him when he asks you a question,” Jimin cautions, leaning back down to suck purples into your hipbones with lazy eyes.

“I,” you heave at a particularly hard thrust but try again, “I just got fucked last night hah—Jungkook, upupup.” He abides with a coo, aiming for your bellybutton and incessantly jabbing the place where you craved him most, fire roaring inside your stomach. You’re so limp, deadweight in their grips that you wonder how they even keep you in place, all the more when Jimin resumes his attack on your clit with that skilled tongue, licking stripes from where Jungkook’s skin slid into yours all the way to where the material of your panties started. “Having so much fun without us, yeah? I’ll make you feel even better,” Jungkook says, snapping you back into the moment.

Your vision starts to blend, inexistent stars appearing into an otherwise blind view as your limbs warn to give out even more than they currently are. “Fuck, please! I’m going to—ugh!” Jimin spits on Jungkook’s dick before pressing the rough flat of his wet muscle to your throbbing bud once more, assisting the younger’s glide and simultaneously working to wring out your orgasm.

And does it come, bones solid and muscles taut as you constrict around Jungkook like a boa, crying out in pained ecstasy as your pussy squeezes to essentially push out its intruder. Kook himself hisses, unable to move in your vice-like grip until you eventually free yourself of your high, Jimin kindly cleaning you with utmost care from below. Wholesomely exhausted, you rest your tired head on Jungkook’s shoulder, kissing his jaw appreciatingly, “Did you cum, Kookie?” Obviously not, you think, his cock still hard as ever and still sheathed inside you.

“No, princess. It’s okay, I don’t need to if you’re too spent.” He gives you a reassuring smile, bunny teeth so endearing, so profound alongside his normally prick-ish personality. Of course, he wouldn’t be your friend if you really thought of him as a nuisance.

“Mm-mm, go ahead boys. I’ll be perfectly fine.”

They look at each other briefly, telepathically debating on their next move. “Can we try something?” Jimin inquires sweetly. You nod willingly, always a little bit of a sucker for Park Jimin. “Good girl, if it’s too much, your safe word’s ‘red’, ‘kay? Use it if you need to, I mean it.” Jimin (and his very un-vanilla like kinks) of all people never pushed your safe word so far, your curiosity really getting the best of you as he sits up with an already warmed-up dick. He must’ve took it out long before, the thought of him jacking off to you igniting what used to be a dull flame in your belly.

It’s when he drags his head at your clit that the puzzle pieces click, his own precum dripping down your abused lips and Kook’s shaft. The other nibbles on your ear, whispering calming affirmations as Jimin desperately looks for an opening.

“Fuck, it’s so dark in here,” he barks, jarring in contrast to the saccharine notes Jungkook practically sing-songs in your neck. “Do you think you can take it, Y/N?”

The question isn’t challenging whatsoever, but it makes you determined to please. Even without his confirmation, there’s nothing more you want at this moment, so you reach  out for him, pressing his soft, velvety head in the space right above Jungkook’s, inching ever so slowly closer and closer to his hilt. By the skin of your teeth is the pain almost unbearable, an embarrassing guttural cry wrenching out of your throat as Jimin’s hips kiss yours. “Fuck, ugh, hell, please just stay for a second,” you dig your canines into your lip, forehead resting on a worried Jimin’s.

“Should’ve let him prep you, princess,” Jungkook husks, not so skilled at hiding his own displeasure. If the discomfort didn’t freeze you in place, you would’ve dug an elbow into his ribs for revenge.

“Shut it,” your voice cracks, “No offense, Jimin, baby, but your fingers wouldn’t have done anything to help this situation.” Park scowls but takes it otherwise lightly. His fingers were, also, not a true indicator to his size; although smaller than Jungkook, Jimin sported a curve that resembled the best dildo money can buy. Even now as it settles into your most delicate nook, he essentially eases the pain, replacing the feeling with steady eagerness for someone to move.

“Please,” is all you muster, taking Jimin’s thick bottom lip between your teeth playfully and releasing it with a high-pitched moan as he tests a thrust, Jungkook biting into your shoulder with the increasing speed.

To describe it to the best of your ability, it was simply the pure definition of being full. It was the thought of two deliciously large cocks moving in tandem, scraping your insides as the boys chased their highs like wild dogs that got you off more than anything. It was the filthy squelches, the grunts and groans, the hands roaming over your body and the growing sways of Jungkook’s truck as Jimin rolls into you that makes you cry in unadulterated rapture.

“Ha-aah, hyung, my legs are falling asleep. Let me do it,” Jungkook pants, hand already reaching out to push Jimin’s abs, clearly not asking for permission.

Park carefully readjusts, his back laying on the seat, your head against his shoulder and Jungkook kneeling behind, cunt still stuffed with them both. “Please, please move, ugh—” you beg.

“Gonna finish this off, okay? Use the word if it gets to be too much,” he warns warmly, polar opposite of his future actions, but you nod in agreement.

He slides out almost all the way, wiggling his hips a bit before plunging back inside with all the force he can gather. You wail and subconsciously straighten your arms beside Jimin, unable to quietly lay down as Jungkook fucks you into oblivion. The position is worth it, seeing Jimin’s lidded eyes and mouth forming a pretty “o” and you can’t help but wonder what it feels for him, frenulum’s catching each other with each aching shove and shafts fighting for space within.

“D-Don’t look at me like that, Y/N,” he grumbles, rutting ever so slightly.

“Like what, baby?” you drawl, “Hey, how does it feel? Fucking one of your best friends with another one of your best friends? Don’t tell me you’re going to cum from something like that…”

He knew exactly what you were doing, taking no bullshit as he lifts a hand to your hair and yanks on it, “Watch it, babydoll. You’re not one to talk when you’ve already cum once. Not too long before you do again, right?” He laughs in your face, entirely dehumanizing.

You have no choice but to nod (a little stiffly, as his hand still tugs on your strands), “Y-Yes, Jimin.” He clicks his tongue.

“Won’t call me ‘daddy’ in front of Jungkook, huh? Shame.”

“I’d get confused of who she’s referring to,” Kook chimes in, revealing a shit-eating grin with a particularly hard thrust that makes you shed tears. You hang your head, unable to contain your moans as a familiar burn churns.

“Good girl, such a good girl,” Jungkook murmurs, palming the flesh of your ass and gaining even more momentum, “Noona takes our dicks so well, just made for us, aren’t you?” You sigh your validation.

Jimin picks up his own pace, out when Jungkook’s in, in when Jungkook’s out, pants turning into continuous groans, “Babe, I gotta cum. Where?” Your lips latch onto his in a crazed manner.

“Inside,” you speak in kisses, “inside, please, both of you.”

Jimin is the first to cum, seed only making Jungkook’s thrusts easier. Kook presses his chest to your back, unreservedly ramming into you with all he is that you collapse into Jimin’s shoulder once more. He follows shortly after, his own mix of white intermingling with his hyung’s, remaining there until he’s sure everyone’s breathing has calmed.

“Careful,” you wince, grabbing Jungkook’s arm warningly as he pulls himself out of your abused cunt. Jimin’s soft member remains with your request, already discontent with the emptiness after Kook’s depart.

“Ew, you’re drooling on me,” Jimin complains, and he’s right, your face sticky and wet when you lift your cheek.

“Shit, the cum’s leaking all over my seats, literally get up,” Jeon whines.

“Ugh I fucking hate you both.”

You’re the only one to get up, maneuvering around and arguing with the younger boy as he desperately tries to clean his seats, which were beyond repair in the first place. The windows are fogged up to the point of condensation, droplets threatening to grow too big and fall.

You brows cinch together in utter confusion, staring at the groups of water that start to tint an odd, orange hue. It disappears as quick as you realize it, though, and you figure the after-effects of the threesome was starting to make you hallucinate.

“Do you guys really think my fingers are that short? I think they’re fine,” Jimin pouts.

Jungkook snickers, “Yeah, those fingers don’t reach sh—"

BAM!

The three of you flinch and fly to Jimin’s side, watching with horror as, what looked like, a giant paw disappearing from the window’s view. Your mind sputters to the image of the thing in the woods and your sweat seems to freeze over, hair standing on end and fear coursing through your veins.

“Whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck,” the boys ramble over themselves, clutching you close to their bodies.

In the reflection of the fogged glass, you see the orange tint you saw seconds ago, hesitantly turning your head behind you and making eye contact with the glowing orbs mere inches away. You shriek at the top of your lungs, the other two yelling because you are, then full-fledge screech when they see them too.

“Oh my fucking god, shut up! You’re no fun to scare. Unlock the door,” a muffled voice growls from outside.

“Taehyung?” you all accuse.

Jungkook all but shoves the door open, revealing a Taehyung with werewolf mask now propped atop his skull, smiling from ear-to-ear that he got you three so good.

“Hey y’all, sorry it took me so long to get here. I got Jimin’s message and—what the hell, Jimin, put your dick away—oh sweet mother of pearl it smells fucking carnal in there. Please don’t tell me you had a threesome when you’re stranded in the middle of nowhere.”

You don’t even attempt to shuffle your clothes fully back on like the other two, who were, blushing like elementary schoolgirls. “We got bored, and it was cold,” is all you say.

“Well, don’t you move on fast, Y/N. Was I not enough to satisfy last night, pretty thing?” he juts out his bottom lip, feigning hurt. On the contrary, you think.

Park and Jeon stare at you in disbelief, piecing together what Taehyung is saying. “What?” you snarl, “I told you guys.”

Taehyung paces a bit, palming himself through his jeans before shoving Jimin’s shoulder and crowding himself into Jungkook’s already-cramped backseat, “Fuck, I got a hard-on now. Can you guys handle one more round?”

omg I hope you guys liked, my BUSSY hurt writing it (~:

[gotboredwrote]

Our Painted Grass Roots // GT!DC

Pairing: DS Gavin Troy x Fem!Reader Word Count: 5.6K Style: One-Shot Warnings: Swearing, wrist injury, serious injury later on (hospitalization required), fluff, angst if you blink and then stare reeeaaally hard Summary: In a classic meet-cute fashion, awkward-around-women and king-of-being-obvious Detective Sergeant Gavin Troy is working on a case when he injures himself, and a lovely lady comes to help him out. Permanent Author’s Note: To clarify, I write because I get bored. Nothing is meant to be professional in any way, nor is meant to offend, cause anxiety, cause anger, cause sadness, or promote disagreement among readers in any sort of (semi)permanent way. A/N: @bensrhapsody​ got me hooked on Midsomer Murders and I’ve basically fallen in love with everything about Troy, with the exception of his driving (yikes.). So, this is my little love letter to him because the boy deserves some attention, dammit. To be in my mindset, picture series/season 1 Troy with those curly “bangs.” Also, thanks Lena for deliberating the title with me yet again.

Masterlist

~

Routine murder case, this was. At least, that’s what Troy told himself. This was more tedious than others, though, because he was on the hunt for something really small and up very high on a ledge. It was going to take him ages to find it, and he had no help, considering Barnaby ran off to grab a bite from a food truck nearby.

Still searching and getting more frustrated by the minute, he started moving much less carefully than he had been originally up on the ledge, about half a story off the ground. He leaned down to rummage through a messy pile of random bits and bobs, and noticed something strange.

“Huh. Why can’t I feel the ledge underneath my feet anymore?”

It was the only sentence his head could string together before his body hit the pavement with a rather large thunk.

~

The abrupt falling motion across the easy-going street filled with people mulling about was pretty easy to spot. Everyone moving at a turtle’s pace and all of a sudden, a long and lanky body is moving through the sky. Not to mention the noise he made when he hit the ground made it obvious, as well. The thing was, not a single soul whose heads all turned around to see the object, or rather human being, that hit the ground went over to help, despite the painful whines and moans coming from the body. It hurt your heart knowing that no one felt an obligation to help him up, so you stepped up to the plate.

You had not seen the exact injury, but you would come to find out that the boy had lost his footing and missed the side of the ledge. Only God knows why there was not a railing for him to lean against, but there was no use questioning it now. He fell, and he needed to be attended to. He had fallen directly onto this left arm, and the pain he was in made Troy feel as though he had completely shattered the bones in his wrist. Later, he would come to find out that he almost shattered his wrist, but got away with a simple but intense sprain that only required a few pain pills, a brace, and some rest and relaxation. In that moment, though, he was sure his wrist was completely broken.

The minute you saw him fall you were by his side. You had never really been in this situation before – sure, you had a few family members who had taken some nasty spills. But those were instances of some water on the kitchen floor and it was a simple slip, no real injuries except maybe a bruise or two. This was a whole other situation, considering his wrist had clearly already started to balloon to twice its normal size. You could see that he was trying to find a position to make his wrist hurt less, but with every move was increasing the swelling, and, ergo, the pain. So, you did the only thing you could think to do.

You gently grabbed onto his wrist with both of your smaller hands, making the effort to encapsulate it completely so as to make him stop moving it. You could not bear to see him hurt himself more and hear his groans. It hurt your heart to see someone in this much pain. And it seems your efforts were not for nothing, in that as you continued to hold the boy’s wrists in place, you could see that his breathing was calming down. You had continued to stare at him, as well, so that when he finally looked up at you and met your eyes he could see how concerned you were for him.

After some amount of time, his eyes moved up simultaneously with his head and locked his eyes with yours. They went wide. Instantly Troy realized that someone was trying to help him, and he was getting embarrassed that he did not speak to the person or thank them, and once he got past that thought, he also realized that the someone who was trying to help him was also extremely breathtaking. He could feel his heart rate go from quick to erratic, signaling the transition from focusing on the pain to focusing on the work of art in front of him.

Either you did not notice like him, or you just did not mind, but Troy realized that he had practically been staring at you for a few solid seconds at this point, and he got even more embarrassed. Frantically, he tried to push himself away from you to stand up and walk away to find Barnaby, but stopped when he realized that he had no idea which direction Barnaby had originally run off to. After a moment of hesitation, Troy starts to walk away from you, still not having said a single thing to you, but you catch him by the crook of his arm, still with a look of concern plastered onto your face.

“Are you sure you don’t need me to take you to the hospital, sir?”

He looked at you, bewildered that you even spoke to him after how oddly he had treated you not moments before. But he did not think about that long, considering that he was looking at a work of art whose voice sounded like a symphony.

“No, I’m okay. Really.”

“I could walk you to a drug store to get some medicine and things—”

“Seriously, I’m okay. I have pain killers and a brace at home. Thanks for the offer, though, miss.”

After feeling as though the final word of the conversation had been spoken, Troy turned around and began to trudge away to find his partner. Except he realized that he basically made a complete ass of himself, so he abruptly stopped in his tracks and turned back around to face you.

“I’m… so sorry, madam. I’m just a bit out of sorts at the moment. I never caught your name, Miss…?”

“Y/N Y/L/N. Yourself?” She even said it with a smile, Troy noticed, despite how odd he was being.

“DS Gavin Troy, Causton police.”

And with that, he ran off as best he could to find Barnaby, thinking it would be the only time he saw the girl. Little did he know, though, you had a plan to see him again.

~

Troy never ended up finding Barnaby that day, so the look of shock and confusion adorning Barnaby’s features the next day when Troy walked in their shared office was pretty understandable.

“What happened to y—”

“It’s a long story, sir. Not worth bringing up.”

With that, Troy sat down at his desk, both thanking and cursing himself for spraining his non-dominant wrist. It was a good thing because he could still do everything that he needed to do from day to day, including his paperwork. It was a bad thing, though, because he could still do everything that he needed to do from day to day, including his paperwork.

Mindlessly chatting overtop of filling out and filing said paperwork, Troy somewhat accidentally brings you up in conversation and how you helped him out yesterday when he fell. It was in passing, and he did not plan on elaborating any further. Especially considering Barnaby asked no further questions regarding you. Except, saying your name opened the floodgates in Troy’s brain. Completely forgetting the next subject he was going to bring up, he began to talk about you – how ethereal you looked with the sun glowing down on you, coupled with the fact that he was pretty sure he hit his head pretty good in the fall, too, so things were a little swimmy. How you were by his side in an instant and did not care that he was a bumbling idiot and made himself look stupid.

He was going to continue babbling on when the office secretary quietly scuffled into the room and told Troy that he has a visitor. She walked out without another word, and Barnaby and Troy looked at each other oddly. Yes, they were investigating a murder at the moment and yes, people sometimes came down to the office to report something or give an interview when unrequested, but never did they exclaim that they were there for Troy. It was always Barnaby. Anxiously awaiting, they stared at the doorway to see what figure would walk in the door.

“Detective Troy?”

The voice – that symphonic voice. Instantly he knew exactly who was about to walk through the doorway – and his heart started beating a mile minute. Subconsciously something in his brain told his hand to tighten the brace so you knew he did what he needed to.

Like clockwork, you were standing in the doorway, with that same concerned look on your face from the day before, but this time laced with pure sweetness. The two of them also noticed that you were clutching a rather large brown paper bag that wafted a nice smell into the room.

“Oh, good, I found the right place. You had only said your name and Causton police, so I was not sure if this was right. I’m really sorry to interrupt, but I wanted to bring you lunch today. I figured you’d be really tired and probably really sore from yesterday’s events, and I brought enough for two. I could join you if you’d like, or I can leave it here for the two of you to enjoy.”

You are smiling at him, almost nervously, and Troy looks to Barnaby to see his reaction. He was simply smiling at you proudly, and then he feels Troy’s eyes on him so he turned to face him with a knowing look. One that says ‘if you decline this, I am never going to let you live down turning her away.’ Quickly, Troy’s head spins back to face you and he stutters out his response.

“Y-y-yes! I’d love to-to have lunch. With you. We can go sit somewhere nicer.”

“Lovely! Lead the way, detective, and I’ll carry the bag – I don’t need you spraining something else.”

“R-right.” He already knew this girl was going to be the death of him, he was just waiting for that fatal blow the seal the deal.

Troy walked you out to the back area of the police station where they had a nice courtyard with tables and benches. Even a fountain, which you thought was a nice touch. He chose a table for you two to sit at and pulled out your chair for you rather shakily. Clearly, he was caught off guard by your sudden appearance at the station, and suddenly you were worried that you might have overstepped a boundary. Though, Barnaby’s expression the entire time you were in the office suggested otherwise.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” You spoke as he sat down and before opening the brown paper bag, which contained a nice helping of fish and chips from a local shop for you two to share.

“Why would you be making me uncomfortable?”

“I showed up, out of the blue, no less, to your office when we had only met because I helped you get up after a fall. It’s very fast and I feel as though it’s almost creepy that I came and found you.”

“Well, I can see how you’d think that.” You gave Troy a concerned look, believing that he was about to agree with you. “But I promise you that is not the case. In fact, I forgot to pack a lunch today, so this works out twofold.”

“Alright, that makes me feel a little bit better about this.”

You pulled out the massive plate of fish and chips, and much to your joy, Troy had mentioned that you got the food from one of his favorite local shops. ‘A lucky guess,’ you thought to yourself. The two of you start to dig in, and at one point you even helped him cut up his fish because he had very limited use of his left hand. It was a little bit to his chagrin, but he clearly appreciated it through and through. At one point, you even tried to feed him a piece of his fish like an airplane, which made him laugh a little bit, and you beamed at him. Hearing his laugh warmed your body to the core – it was a beautiful sound. And much to your surprise, as he was laughing, he actually ate the piece of fish you tried to feed him. When you pulled the fork back from him, he looked at you while chewing and raised both of his eyebrows up and down quickly, as if to say ‘did you think I wouldn’t do it?’

The two of you finished your food after spending about half an hour with each other just talking and eating, and then you decided to walk him back to his office before leaving him to continue his work. You were almost visibly upset because in your heart, you fully believed this was the last time you were going to see Troy. You were not going to drop in uninvited again because it was not your place to, yet that was all your heart told you to do. You hardly knew the man and yet all you wanted to do was spend time with him.

Once back in front of the doors to the building, you start to say your goodbyes and walk away, but you feel a yank on your arm, followed by a hiss of pain. Troy had reached out with his bad hand to grab you to prevent you from walking away, instead of either his good hand or using his voice. You had come to realize the man was a tad goofy underneath the tough-guy detective persona. You lock eyes with him, and laugh at the face his making in reaction to his idiocy. He had been searching for the courage and motivation to ask what he wanted to ask the entire walk back to the door, but was unmotivated until he heard your laugh. Melodic.

“Can I take you out tomorrow night? Like, to a proper dinner, and maybe a walk…afterwards?”

Your mind felt like it had melted in that moment, because the exact thing you wanted to happen so you did not have to seem like a creep by showing up unannounced again, had happened. Clearly, you took longer than Troy would have liked for you to respond, because you could see the courage in his eyes fade to cowardliness for a moment.

“I’d actually love that, Gavin.”

Before you knew it, you were standing out front of your small cottage home waiting for Troy to pick you up. Little did you know that he made sure he drove as carefully as possible this time. Something way down the line, you would find out, he does not do for anyone. He is a horrible driver, Barnaby tells you, and it makes you laugh, because it helps you to realize why you do all the driving when you two go places together.

Troy had gotten the two of you last minute reservations at a small but posh restaurant that supposedly had delicious food for not that expensive, given the atmosphere of the place. Turns out, he was wrong, and you two ended up splitting the bill because it was so expensive. On the walk around a local lake, he tells you how horrible he felt about that, but you silenced him as best you could.

“We’re equals, Gavin. You have no reason to feel horrible.”

“But it was supposed to be my treat. The guy always pays on a first date, it’s just standard.”

“Well, maybe what you and I have is not standard, Gavin.”

You continue looking forward, not directly seeing that he was staring at you, dumbfounded and in awe. Something about you was magnetic to him, yet he could not really place what it was specifically. Maybe it was because it was all of you.

After that, the two of you walked in a comfortable silence, which remained except for the rapid beating of hearts when his hand accidentally swung against yours. In classic romantic movie fashion, slowly you could feel Troy start to turn your hand around so he could try to lace his fingers within your own. As soon as you could tell what he was doing, you met him halfway. You did say that the two of you were equals, after all.

Towards the end of the walk, as you were making it back to his car, your head was pushed gently sideways in a swift and chaste motion, and it was over before you comprehended what had happened. Troy had kissed the corner of your mouth, too confident to just kiss your forehead, but not confident enough to kiss your lips. Which now ached to feel him. The ride home was silent because of it. Not because you were angry with him or anything of the sort. It was that both of you were trying to rack up the courage to finish what had been started. Turns out, all Troy needed was some time to process, because as your body started to turn to get out of his car, you felt his hand on the side of your face and him slam his mouth down onto yours, but still with the same amount of chasteness as before. If your lips weren’t aching for him before, they were on fire now.

All that was exchanged after that was ‘goodbyes.’

No mention of a second date.

~

The next day, early in the morning you were at home working on some commission work that you had gotten a few weeks prior. Something you and Troy had briefly discussed at dinner was the fact that your jobs could not be more opposite. You painted with your head up in space, while he trudged on the ground looking for felons and murderers. Wildly different professions, but you both were happy with them, and happy that the other was happy where they were, too. Little did you know that some distance away from you, Troy was babbling on about you to Barnaby in their office. Eventually, he just stops, realizing that Barnaby has not said a word back, nor has he even really looked up from his desk. Troy figures he went too gossip queen on him, but after a few moments of silence, Tom speaks up.

“Troy?”

“Sir?”

“This girl you’ve been chattering about?”

“What about her, sir?”

“Keep her.”

When those last words stumbled from his mouth, Tom looked up to emphasize it and finally make eye contact with the lovestruck boy. Instantly, Troy goes red and looks down at his lap, smiling wider than he ever has, at least from what Barnaby could tell. Troy looked up to Barnaby like a second father, so the fact that he liked you made him so proud. It had only been two days, but both Barnaby and Troy himself knew how good you were for him.

Plus, Barnaby immensely liked the fact that he would not have to worry about calling Troy his son-in-law if him and Cully would have hit things off, instead.

~

A few hours after Tom and Troy’s conversation, they are called out to investigate a new lead in the murder case they had been working on. You would have had no idea his had happened if it were not for that phone call. The caller ID came up as Troy’s number, so needless to say, you were enthusiastic when you picked up the phone, practically singing ‘hi, Gavin!’ into the phone. Except, you were met with a deeper voice. Barnaby’s.

“I already phoned his parents, Y/N, but I felt like I needed to tell you as well that Troy is in the hospital.”

The wild beating of your heart from enthusiasm before had turned to panic and dread, and your heart dropped so quickly that you felt the pain in your chest and almost dropped the phone. Despite it all, pulling yourself together, you manage to tell Barnaby that you would be there as soon as you could.

Once there, you did not even realize that you might not have come dressed appropriately until the receptionist gave you a strange look. You looked back at her, not caring, until she continued to stare at you and not ask you the proper questions. You were getting angry, frankly, so you played her game to look down at your clothes. A paint covered tee shirt with some loose jeans that had paint on them as well. When you look back up to her, her eyes go wide because she sees that you are about to cry, from embarrassment, concern, and frustration. Not a good combination of emotions for anyone to feel at any time. Somehow, despite the seething rage and tears threatening to spill, you manage to tell her where you needed to go.

“Gavin Troy’s room, please.”

“Relation to the patient, ma’am?”

Then you realized something. Answering this question would be the first time you had ever said out loud what your connection to Troy was. And while it truly made you happy that you could say it, you were also frantic and worried that you would not get the chance to claim that title for long, considering you still had no idea what had happened to him. With the tears streaming down your face, you manage to say it for the very first time.

“I’m his girlfriend.”

It really only had been a few days and one official date, but both of you knew – you belonged to one another.

Once at the door, you honestly were not sure what to do. Should you just go in? Was in in surgery? Was he dead and you were about to be met with a corpse? It was all up in the air, so you decided to act as natural as possible. You knocked softly on the door four times, and quietly opened the door. The room, surprisingly, was a single hospital room – meaning, he would not have a roommate. Either this hospital has no patients, or he got extremely lucky. Your money was on the latter. Regardless, when you finally took in Troy’s figure on the bed, which was splayed out across it, it hits you that he did not acknowledge the fact you walked in. Immediately your brain was in panic mode. Yet, you retained your composure as you tiptoed over to the bed, crouching down beside it and placing your hand on his cheek. A way to see if he was awake or not.

Much to your relief, his eyes fluttered open and instantly found yours, looking completely and utterly exhausted. Yet, in that moment, seeing the dull orbs inside his head, contrary to their usual shine, triggered a sobbing fit.

“Oh God, I-I was worried we lost you, Gavin.”

“It’s gonna take a lot more than a knife wound to get me.”

“You were stabbed?”

“Twice.”

“Gavin!”

His forwardness, given his condition, confirmed in your core that he was going to be okay. He was his usual snarky and matter-of-fact self, after all. After the both of you had settled from the previous conversation, you settled into quiet chatter, like old pals who had been catching up after some time. He wanted to hear your voice talk about anything – you could have told him about how cardboard was produced and he would have soaked up every word just to hear the silky tone of your voice. You asked him questions about the case and if the stabbing had anything to do with it, and he asked you about the commission you were working on. He called it a drawing request, so you had a lot to teach him, but in that moment, nothing mattered. He was awake, breathing, and talking to you. All surefire signs that he was living and you were not dreaming this in a haze of emotions, namely grief.

Neither of you really had an explanation as to when it happened, but both of your hands were interlocked with his resting on his thighs, slowly and softly stroking each other’s fingers and backs of hands. Mindlessly, mind you, but it was calming nonetheless. You only noticed it because the door randomly and quite violently swung open with a thud against the wall, and when you jumped back, your arms were tugged forward because he would not let go of your hands. When the figures finally focused in your field of vision, you had absolutely no idea who they were. They were looking at Troy with intense concern and then to you with extreme confusion. As if to say ‘who is this girl and why is she fondling our son’s hands?’

Clearing the air, as he has proven to do well, Troy spoke up.

“Well, this uh, isn’t exactly how I hoped you all would meet, but Y/N, meet… my parents.”

At first, the air was thick. You were trying to present yourself well, except that it was hard, considering you were still reeling from the fact that your person was in the hospital suffering and that you looked, frankly, homeless. But, once they hear you speak about yourself, your career, and their son, they start to fall in love with the idea that their son chose you, and they start to love you, too. They are thrilled that Troy has someone like you to help him through the recovery process. They informed you that it would most likely have to be you, because they do not live all that close by, so finding a place to stay for that long would be challenging. They could not stay with Troy, considering he lived in a one-bedroom flat, and they would never impose that on you. You were happy to take on the challenge of helping him heal, though. It just meant more time with your new favorite human.

After about an hour of talking with his parents and the nurses, his parents decide to leave you with him for the rest of the night. As soon as they were out of side, your personal phone rang, and it came up as your own parents. Troy watched your face as they spoke to you, completely unaware what they were saying to you, and then when you hung up, you looked at him sheepishly.

“So, that was my, uh, parents. They’re in town. Want to see me. Told them to come here.” Troy looked back at you with the same sheepish look you had given him. Playfully, you responded to the look with “don’t look at me like that, Gavin, it’s only fair that you meet my own parents in unideal circumstances, too, after what you just put me through.”

~

Taking what his parents requested of you to heart, Troy never even went back to his apartment when he was discharged from the hospital. You drove him straight to your cottage where you got him comfortable in your living room watching television while you set up the guest room. After that was arranged, you stole his apartment key and went and packed a bag for him, telling him you would worry about his laundry and things like that, all he had to do was be a nice houseguest.

He was discharged early the next morning so he got to spend the day lounging around at your house. At one point, you informed him that you did have some work that needed to be done in your studio, and you wanted to keep an eye on him. You helped him over to the chaise you have laying in the studio and got him comfortable. Once he was situated, you went over to your supply bench, gathered the brushes, paints, and other tools you needed to continue where you left off. You plopped down onto the floor in front of the low-to-the-ground easel and canvas. Troy was to your back, but you could feel him behind you, staring at you. It made you slightly uneasy, but more so because of butterflies in your stomach. You could feel how intensely he was watching you and what you were doing. It was a good uneasy. Plus, you did not have to keep one eye on him, you could feel he was there.

If you had to guess, an hour had passed because your arm was feeling the slightest bit of ache from reaching upward to paint each small detail above you. Your hand was still raised when you felt a pair of strong arms reach around your waist, one’s attached to the body that was supposed to be recovering from two stab wounds.

“You’re supposed be resting, you muppet.”

“I’m more comfortable here.”

You do not even try to argue with him, because he was a little bit hopped up on pain medicine and you really did not mind the warmth radiating from him. It was nice to feel enveloped by someone who really likes you. Might even eventually come to love you. You could only hope.

When he first snaked his arms around you, he held his head above yours. Now, you could feel the weight of it on your shoulder and the soft air coming from his nose on your neck. It made you smile warmly, knowing that despite the small amount of time you had been together, he felt comfortable enough around you to take that step. He may be a bumbling, clumsy detective who barely made it out of school and police training despite his ambition, but he was yours.

“I don’t get it.”

Troy spoke out of nowhere, removing you from your thoughts and almost causing you to place a giant paint streak across the painting.

“What? This painting?”

“Art in general. Or anything like it. I’m a very grass roots kind of guy, Y/N.”

“That’s not a big deal, Gavin, it doesn’t—"

“I want you to explain it to me.”

“…only if you’ll explain detective work to me while I paint, too.”

It made you extremely happy that he took interest in what you did. Past partners always felt like your head was too in the clouds and that you would never be able to support yourself. Troy seemed to think differently, and even if he did not, he clearly did not seem to mind the idea of taking care of you if you ever needed the help. He took in every word of how art makes you feel fulfilled, and it seemed to make him really happy that you enjoyed what you did for a living. He briefly talks about how he has always been a goody-two-shoes so he wanted to make use of said trait. That was really all he had to say on that subject, and then he moved on to what exactly it was he did while on a case. He even told you about the one he is investigating – the whole reason you met.

Then you started to discuss the specifics of the art world, techniques and various tools and the like, and you started to feel a new sensation on your neck. No longer just small puffs of air, but a softness. One that was moving gently across the side and down to the crook of your neck. You had to hold back a small swoon, and your eyes fell shut.

“You haven’t even kissed me properly yet”

“May I?��

“Never thought you bloody would at this rate. You may be a detective with a very high rated station, but sometimes you need help reading—”

The kiss was aggressive, but you truly did not mind. It felt good to officially seal your relationship with a kiss that was not short. It was a lovely feeling.

When you first tried to pull away, he just kept leaning back to your face. His desperation was clear, and in any other circumstance he would have been embarrassed, but he had told you how long it had been since he had a serious girlfriend, and you thought it was cute, regardless. Eventually, you managed to pry yourself away from him, and he was looking at you wistfully, like you had just rocked his world with a kiss. You practically did. He was knocked out his trance when you streaked your brush across his nose for being so forward though. And you heard his laugh for the first time since being in the hospital, and that was enough to bring an enormous smile to your face.

Troy then got up to sit back down on the chaise, but you kept him close behind you, and not soon after his pain pills really kicked in and he started to dose off on you while you continued to paint. You made sure to maneuver him so he was laying in your lap while you painted. It was not until you looked down to wash out your brush that you noticed a small amount of blood through his tee shirt where his stitches were hidden.

“How in the world did you rip your stitches, detective?” You barely whispered to yourself, and earned no response from your boy, who was fast asleep. “What are Barnaby and I going to do with you, huh?”

Permanent Taglist: @bensrhapsody @chlobo6 @gardnerlangway @xtrashmammalstefx @bohemiandeakyy

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[itsallavengers]

stony, 5 please? :)

Wait a minute. Are you jealous?

There was someone hitting on Steve.

Which was woefully normal. Steve was... well, Steve. He drew every eye in the room as soon as he walked in. He was charming and kind and genuine. Literally anyone with eyes and a brain would want to take him home and keep him there. Luckily, Tony had (somehow, miraculously)  managed to get there first. 

Unluckily, however, that never seemed to stop people from trying their luck anyway. 

In all honesty, Tony couldn’t even blame them. Back in his youth, he probably would’ve tried to do the same sleazy thing. And this guy- the one brushing his shoulder against Steve’s and smiling up at him with the most obvious bedroom eyes in the entire fucking world- he seemed exactly like Tony when he’d been that age. Couldn’t have been over twenty-five, with tan skin and those stupid hipster glasses that no-one thought was cool anymore. Except Steve, who called them ‘neat’. 

Goddamn him and his adorable ass. 

They were having what appeared to be an avid conversation, Steve cradling his bottle of beer between two hands as he leaned against the bar and watched the other guy talk. Tony, to be quite honest, wasn’t even supposed to be at the gala at all. It was for a school-funding charity that Steve had fronted, and although Tony’d been invited as a guest, he’d been ridiculously busy and had had to send Steve out on his own. 

Of course, this was what happened as soon as everyone saw that Steve Rogers was missing a Tony Stark hanging off his arm. Obviously thought he was fair game. Fucking vultures.

Would Steve even want him to butt in at this point? Tony had come to drop off Steve’s speech which he’d somehow managed to leave in the workshop before heading out, and when he’d texted he’d implied that the event had been pretty boring- but that was twenty minutes ago, and he seemed to be having a good time now. With the younger, hotter version of Tony who had an ass that left practically nothing to the imagination in those jeans and who probably didn’t have nearly as much trauma and daddy issues-

Stop it, he warned himself with a huff. It had been three years, and Steve hadn’t left yet. He loved Tony. Tony was being ridiculous. Tony was-

...Watching as the man ‘spilled’ his drink all over Steve’s dress shirt and then used that as an excuse to put hands all over Tony’s fucking boyfriend, dammit, those were his pecs to touch, not that little overzealous highschooler who probably didn’t even have anything higher than a fucking bachelors in anything, the stupid little bastard.

Tony was walking over before his mind had even made the decision, body acting of its own accord. He pulled the notes out of his jacket, looking down at Steve’s familiar curly writing with a small smile before dropping his hand and hurrying down the stairs, moving through the crowds with practised ease. As he got closer, he heard what the kid was saying. He had a warm voice; smooth and low, and jheeze, Tony could just hear the suggestiveness in his tone, no one spoke like that normally and that was a fact.

“-I’m such a clutz, dammit, I remember this exact same thing happened when I was driving my new limited edition mustang, except with coffee. Ugh, I swear I’m good with my hands usually- in all senses of the word if you know what I mean,” the guy stopped and winked up at Steve, who, bless him, just smiled sort of awkwardly and then shook his head.

“It’s fine, honestly, I can- you don’t have to- I got this,” Steve raised his own hands in a signal for the guy to back up, which surprisingly, he did. He then began to scrub a few times at the stain on his chest, before sighing and just leaving it there, tossing the napkin onto the bar. “I don’t think there’s much else we can do about that for tonight.”

Tony could practically see that asshole gearing up to swoop in for the final move- some sort of ‘my place is five minutes away, wanna go clean up there?’ or some cheesy line like that- and so before he could, Tony’s mouth moved first.

“Hey babe- now I’m here, we can really get this party started.”

Steve and the kid both turned to him, opposing expressions falling over each of their faces at the same time- Steve with delight, and the little asshole with annoyance. 

“Tony,” Steve said warmly, opening up his arm on instinct and then letting Tony press himself up against Steve’s side. Usually, Tony probably would’ve just gone for a cheek kiss- but Tony was feeling petty, and sometimes, he just liked to let people know that he did not and would not ever share his toys, and so without hesitation he leaned up and curled his hand around Steve’s jaw, pulling him down for a scorching kiss. 

Of course, Steve went with it. Tony could feel his mild surprise, but that didn’t stop him from kissing back with vigor, his hands sliding down Tony’s body until landing on his ass and staying there for a few moments. It took at least three seconds for Steve to remember he was at a public function and hastily move them back up to more appropriate territories, and Tony felt himself grin. 

He eventually broke off, keeping his hands resting around Steve’s neck as he turned his head and looked at the other guy with a slick smile. “Hi,” he said, “I’m Tony. You might have heard of me before.”

The guy blinked, looking a little put-out for a moment before regaining his composure and then smiling back. “Lucas,” he responded, “it’s nice to meet you, Tony. Although I thought you weren’t attending tonight?”

“Well, life is full of surprises, isn’t it?” He said sweetly, before  turning back to the important person in the room and sliding Steve’s prompt cards into his breast pocket, shaking his head at the man fondly. “You’re a goddamn nightmare, you know that?” He said, leaning up to kiss him again. 

Steve smiled sheepishly. “I was distracted. I’m sorry for dragging you out here.”

Tony felt himself being glared at to his left, so he turned his head and then raised an eyebrow. “Hey, just out of interest- is your car the limited edition mustang that’s parked outside?”

A flash of surprise. “Uh, yeah. Why?”

Tony just shrugged, pointing a finger. “Oh, because it was getting toed when I came in. You might wanna go get it.”

It was a dick move, but then again, Tony was known for being a dick. Lucas’ face paled, and with a quick curse he scurried away, bumping Tony’s shoulder as he pushed through in order to stop his car from being toed by the invisible toe-truck that Tony had just made up.

Steve watched Tony as he pulled a face. “What a shame. He seemed like a nice guy.”

When Tony looked at Steve to see whether he agreed, Steve simply shrugged indifferently. “Yeah, he was cool. He’s one of the ambassadors for the charity- does a lot of good for the local kids apparently.”

Tony nodded. Yeah, Steve would’ve loved that. “Pretty, too,” he continued, unable to help himself, because he was a childish idiot who might as well have been writing ‘do you still like me best’ on a sticky note and sending it across the classroom.

Steve just looked at him funny. “Uh, if you say so,” he said, shrugging again.

Tony looked at him. “Just out of curiosity, how low did his wandering hands go when he was rubbing you down with that napkin? I’m thinking he was at least trying to make it to the abs, but your angle was better than mine-”

“Tony, what are you-” Steve paused, before his eyes widened a little and he looked down at him in what seemed to be amusement, “wait a minute. Are you jealous?”

Tony huffed, flapping out a hand and letting his peaceful facade fall. “Of course I’m jealous, that damn twink had his hands all over you, and he’s hot, and he’s not got any gray hairs and he wears those stupid hipster glasses that you like and you didn’t seem to mind too much that he was flirting the pants off you at some charity event on a Sunday evening!”

Steve looked at him in bewilderment, blinking a few times. “He wasn’t flirting with me,” he said dumbly, but when Tony just stared, unimpressed at him, Steve’s eyes widened. “He was flirting with me?” He asked incredulously.

If it had been anyone else in the world, Tony would have been absolutely certain they were just trying to cover their asses. Because surely no-one could be that oblivious, right?

Well. Steve could. Hopeless-at-flirting, dense-as-a-brick, romantically constipated Steve had managed to mix up Tony’s blatant propositioning for friendly banter for about two years straight. He couldn’t see a come-on if it painted itself neon orange and danced naked in front of him.

God, Tony loved him so much it hurt.

He smiled weakly, resting his head into Steve’s shoulder. “When people make sexual innuendos about how good their handjob skills are to strangers, that’s a big sign that there’s flirting going on, yeah,” he explained in amusement.

Steve’s hand tightened around Tony’s waist nervously. “Oh,” he said, and Tony wasn’t looking at his face, but he could just sense the blush of embarrassment crawling up there, “oh, I had no idea- oh God, sorry Tony, I promise I wasn’t trying to encourage that, I wouldn’t, you know I-”

“Oh God, of course I know that you big lug, be quiet,” Tony huffed and smacked him lightly on the chest, looking up at him, “sorry. It’s just...” he gestured to himself with a bashful shrug, “issues,” he finished weakly, “lots of them. Manifesting in various shitty ways.”

Steve looked at him, and then frowned a little as he took Tony’s face in his hands. “Hey,” he said quietly, “you know that I’m not planning on leaving you for anyone any time soon, right?” A smile curved across his face. “No matter how young they might be or how cool their glasses are, or even if they don’t have a single grey hair on their body. I don’t love any of them.”

Tony looked down with a sigh. “That’s stupid of you,” he muttered, “maybe when I was in my twenties, I would’ve been better for you, but Jheeze, Steve, I’m on the wrong side of forty now, and then there’s everyone else you could have and I know it’s stupid but sometimes I just see them and think-” he broke off, shaking his head as he finished, “I’m just... so far from what you deserve, that’s all.”

When Steve didn’t say anything, Tony just sighed in dismay. God, why did he have to go and run his mouth and make everything about him? This had started off light-hearted, but of course, he had to go and make everything sad. “Fuck, just ignore me,” he muttered, smiling tightly and stepping away, “I’m only kidding around. Knock ‘em dead with your speech, Steve, you always do- I’ll probably be asleep when you get back but-”

He stopped speaking as Steve grabbed his arm and pulled him back in, kissing him hard and fast. Steve’s grip on his bicep was firm, and he pushed Tony against the bar in order to go at his mouth like they were in the bedroom rather than a charity event. Tony just rolled with it, holding back the urge to make an inappropriate noise in front of all the guests. Fuck, Steve was good at kissing. 

Then Steve broke away, and Tony looked up at him with a blank face, stunned into temporary silence.

“You’re such a goddamn idiot sometimes,” Steve told him with a shake of his head, “I’m a 1940′s loud-mouthed runt from Brooklyn who grew up with nothing more than ten dollars in his bank at any given moment, who fights crime in tights and doesn’t even know when someone’s blatantly trying to come onto him- yet I’ve managed to bag the world’s cleverest, most beautiful, funny and kind superhero in the entire world, and you think that you don’t deserve me?” 

Tony frowned. “They’re not tights,” he said eventually, “they’re graphene-lined kevlar bodysuits.”

Steve just looked at him, and then he smiled so warmly that Tony felt as if he might melt from it. The man leaned down, pressing the softest kiss against his cheek. “Tony, you are ridiculous,” he declared, “and I love you more than anything else in the whole world, okay? Grey hairs and everything. In fact, the silver fox look is kinda hot. So.” Steve just shrugged, winking down at Tony when he blinked in surprise. 

There were some days when Tony wondered how in God’s name he’d ever managed to find someone as perfect as Steve Rogers. Today was one of them. And the strangest thing about it was that Tony knew Steve wasn’t lying. He did think that Tony’s grey hairs were hot- in the same way he found it cute when Tony fell asleep on Steve on the couch and ended up drooling on his shoulder, or loved the crows feet around his eyes because they showed he was happy. 

Steve was just... perfect. 

“I love you,” Tony said, kissing his shoulder apologetically, “sorry for freaking out.”

“I love you too,” Steve responded, “sorry for being so oblivious to other people’s come-on’s.”

Tony grinned wryly, looking up at Steve as an idea popped into his head. “I think I know a way to potentially deter people doing that in the immediate future,” he told Steve solemnly, nodding his head.

-Which was how they found themselves in some conveniently placed cloak-room, making out like teenagers as Tony sucked a variety of dark hickeys into Steve’s neck, just under the collar, but visible to anyone if they were looking hard enough. 

He heard as Steve breathed hard above him, Adam's apple bobbing up and down under Tony’s mouth. “Jesus Christ,” he breathed, “sometimes I forget how nice love-bites feel.”

Tony nipped the spot he was working on with his teeth and felt as Steve gasped. “Will try and regularly remind you then,” he muttered, pressing Steve against the door and splaying his fingers out across Steve’s chest, “God, I love you,” he said, peppering kisses across the sharp line of Steve’s jaw.

Steve whimpered. He adored it when Tony kissed him there. “Love you too,” he breathed harshly, eyes clenched shut as he let his head drop back against the door, much to Tony’s delight. God, how bad he wanted to suck a hickey right up onto Steve’s throat, where Goddamn everyone could see it, and know where it had come from. 

Alas. The Charity hosts probably wouldn’t approve of Steve Rogers walking up on stage looking like he’d just been fucked in a bathroom stall- no matter how much Tony might like that idea.

“Okay, we gotta- we gotta stop,” Steve said eventually, although it sounded thoroughly pained, “my speech is in five minutes and I cannot come in my pants before I walk up there. That’s just so many levels of bad.”

Tony pouted, but ultimately ceased his attack on Steve’s neck. “I’ve done it before,” he said moodily, “more than once.”

“Well, I’m not quite as shameless as you,” Steve told him, before rubbing at his neck and grinning, “how do I look?”

Tony stepped back, admiring his handiwork. Steve’s collar was unbuttoned, and from his sternum to the beginning of his neck were a litany of purpley-pink marks, slowly darkening against his pale and flushed skin. He looked beautiful He looked like Tony’s.

It was ridiculously childish. 

It was also ridiculously hot.

 “You look like you’re currently unavailable to any potential suitors,” Tony said eventually, kissing one of the marks gently and feeling the hot skin underneath his mouth.

Steve met his eyes and smoothed out Tony’s hair. “Good,” he said, before looking down at his watch and sighing. “I’m also about five minutes late. I should’ve been in the wings getting the run-down by now. I really have to go.”

Tony nodded, stepping forward and buttoning Steve’s shirt back up properly, re-tying his tie until he looked just about presentable. “Alright,” he said, “and I really have to get back to my work. Pepper is going to kill me if I don’t finish this paperwork.”

Steve nodded, hand going backward and curling around the doorknob. “Right,” he said, breathing in once more and trying to pull his eyes away from Tony’s mouth, “speech. Okay. This’ll be fun. I will... we will continue this when I get home, okay?”

Tony just nodded wryly at Steve’s slightly whiny voice, patting him on the shoulder fondly. Yeah- he really had no reason to doubt a thing. Steve was still just as in love with him as he had been a year ago, or two or three or four. Tony still had it. And apparently, the grey hair just made it better, which was certainly a fact that Tony would be taking into consideration from now on.

He leaned up and kissed Steve one more time, before backing away. “Go get ‘em, soldier.”

[gosecretscribbles]

Stanuary 2019 Week 1 Bonding

“GET BACK HERE!”

“AAAGH!”

Stan chased after the tourist, brandishing his cane in one hand and the crossbow in the other.  The guy had tried to pay for his tour with a baby goat!  What did he think this was, Medieval Europe?!  Goats were not currency!  Goats weren't even profitable!  They just ate, pooped, and stank!

Stan thought he was in decent shape for an old fat guy, but the skinny farmer sprinted to his truck like all the tax collectors in the state were on his heels.  Plus that stupid baby goat was prancing around Stan and tripping him up.  Even so, Stan nearly made it to the truck when the farmer hit the gas.  The engine roared to life and dirt sprayed in Stan's face.  He skidded to a stop, coughing and scraping at his eyes.  

There was a thunk and Stan looked down.  The kid had keeled right over, all four legs straight out.  

“Oh, great, now he's dead!  YOU PAID ME WITH A DEAD GOAT, YA MORON!”

He swung up the crossbow and fired, but the truck hit a bend in the road.  Instead of popping a tire the bolt just hit the license plate and jarred it loose.  It fell off with a noisy rattle as the truck swung around the curve and disappeared, the other goats' bleating quickly fading from earshot.  

Swearing a blue streak under his breath, Stan went to retrieve the license plate.  Never know when you'd need one to throw the cops off your trail.  

Now he had to decide what to do with a dead baby goat.  The next tourist bus wasn't coming until noon, so he had about an hour to figure it out.  He didn't really want to stuff it, but he couldn't think of anything else to do with it.  Hey, maybe he could make his new mechanic do it instead – what was his name, Zeus or something? Sure, that'd work.  He just had to get the goat out of the way until Soup came back from school.  

He reached the goat and bent down to grab its leg.

“Baa-aa-aah.”

“AAH!”

He jumped back.  The goat's ears and tail twitched, then it rolled over and looked up at him.  

“Baa-aa-aah,” it repeated insistently.

“Yeesh, give me a heart attack already,” Stan growled, one hand over his chest.  “If you're looking for food, you're lying in it.  Grass, meet goat.  Goat, meet lunch.  Now stay outta the way, I got a business to run.”

“Baa-aa-aah.”

He went inside to work on more pun-related exhibits for the museum. Those wax figures had brought in a ton of money when he'd first set them up, but business had gone dry a week ago, and he needed another money maker and fast.  Those portal parts didn't come cheap.

The goat bleated from the porch for a solid twenty minutes, then he heard it clopping away.  Stan snorted, then went back to gluing googly eyes on a plastic octopus.  Maybe eight eyes, so it was like a combo spider-octopus?  Yeah, that'd work.  Now he just had to think of a catchy name for it.  Or maybe Octo-spider?  Arachnipus?  Octo-Eyes? Hmm, maybe that'd work...

Stan came out of the Shack in time to greet the next tourist bus.  He didn't see the kid anywhere, so many the dumb thing had wandered into the woods.  Perfect, one less thing to worry about.  He put everyone in the carts and drove 'em out to see random stuff in the forest, like the Tree of the Screaming Tourist.  He told them the eerily twisted bark was an actual tourist whose spirit had been sucked into the tree when he refused to pay for the tour.  (Everyone was suddenly very eager to pay him for the tour.  And tip him.  Generously.)

He drove 'em back and waved them into the bus.  Then he headed back to the Gift Shop.  His pockets were practically bulging with cash.  He definitely had to use that Screaming Tree story more often!  Even if it kind of freaked him out.  Wait, hadn't Ford's journal's mentioned something about –

“Hi, Mr. Pines!”

“AAH!”

He jumped back for the second time that day, glaring down at Deuce, who was standing innocently in the doorway of the Gift Shop.

“Geez, kid, make some noise when you move!”

“Sure, Mr. Pines!  By the way, I didn't know you had a pet goat!”

Deuce moved aside.  That dumb stinky nuisance was sitting on the floor, legs sprawled everywhere, its floppy tail thumping like a puppy's.  

“Baa-aa-aah!”

He groaned.  “That's not a pet.  And get it out of here! Smells like a moldy haystack, and I got some new attractions I need to make for the museum.”  He stepped over the goat and strode to the craft counter in the corner.  “Octo-Eyes was a huge hit! Taxidermic monstrosities are gonna make me a fortune!”

“Couldn't we make this little guy an attraction too?” Moose asked behind him. “I bet you could even give him a punny name!  Like 'Cutebacabra'!”

Stan stopped and turned around.  The goat looked up at him with those weird sideways pupils.  

“Yeah,” Stan said slowly, holding up both hands to frame the little moneymaker.  “Yeah, the Cutebacabra!  Glue on some fake wings, coupla cow legs – maybe some red paint drooling from its mouth! Ha, I love it!”

Bruce beamed at him.  “Thanks, Mr. Pines!”

“Kid, gather every spare stuffed limb I've got and a ton of crazy glue. Then go set up a display for him in the museum.  This creepy cuteness is gonna be our next main attraction!”  

Exactly forty-three minutes later, Stan was showing a new set of tourists into the museum.  He'd already taken them to the Tree of the Screaming Tourist, and now he was gonna milk 'em dry.  Zeus had rigged up a little stage and a red velvet curtain for Chompers.  With a single grand gesture, Stan pulled it aside.  Instantly the crowd went 'AAAAH!' and 'AWWW!'

He grinned and gestured grandly.  Sluice had made it a little vest and glued on every spare animal limb they had.  “That's right, folks, the rare baby Cutebacabra!  The only one in the world!  Pictures are five – no, fifty dollars each!”

Immediately tourists stuffed good ol' Grants into his hands and snapped pictures, flashes going off in every direction.

The goat's eyes went wide and it keeled over, legs straight out.  

A kid in the crowd screamed.  “OH MY GOD IT'S DEAD!”

“WE'RE CURSED!”

“RUN FOR YOUR LIIIIFE!”

“Oh come on!” Stan shouted.  He didn't bother chasing the tourists – he'd pick-pocketed them while they had their eyes on the goat, and he knew they didn't have even two bucks left among the lot of them.  But why in the name of Paul Bunyan did the goat keep playing dead?!  If it had done that two seconds earlier it would've cost him all those picture fees!

“I'm back with the goat feed, Mr. Pines,” Puce said, poking his head into the Museum.  He was dragging a forty-pound bag of feed.  “You didn't give me any money, so I had to pay Mr. Sprotts with three hours of child labor.”  Then he caught sight of the goat, turned white, and dropped the bag.  “SWEET MOSES HE'S DEAD?!”

“No he's not,” Stan scowled.  He reached out and poked the goat with a foot.  The goat twitched, then flipped upright and started gnawing on one of the cow hoofs taped to its back.  “See?”

The goat bleated and head-butted him.

“Aw, he likes you!” Spruce said.

“Ugh, get it offa me.  The darn thing's defective!”  He paused.  “Then again, if I could get it to do it on command...”  Imagine the look on people's faces if he walked his goat into traffic, then made them think they'd hit his Prize German-Australian Longhair Goat!  They'd pay through the nose just to keep him from suing them!

“Eh, he probably just has that myotonic thing.  Or maybe it was myopia?  I always get those two mixed up.”

“Mia-what?”

The gumdrop shrugged.  “Myotonia.  Mr. Sprotts told me about it.  You know how people get startled, and then they freeze up?  It's like that, but for goats.  And it lasts for longer, like their muscles seize up or something.  It doesn't hurt them or anything,” he added, “but it is a genetic thing.  Mr. Sprotts said a lot of his goats got it from the toxic waste dump.”

“So he's being literally scared stiff?”

Moose laughed.  “Good one, Mr. Pines!”

The goat had finished chewing on the cow hoof and proceeded to gnaw on Stan's pantleg.

“Whoops!” Soup pulled the goat away, then set it down in front of the bag of feed and tore it open.  “There ya go, little Gompers!  This'll taste waaaay better.  Trust me, I tried it!”

“Baa-aa-aah!”

Stan watched the goat eating.  “Hey Swoose.”

“It's 'Soos', Mr. Pines!”

“Whatever. You're sayin' the goat just keeps getting scared?”

“Yep!”

“'Cuz it's genetic?”

“Uh, I guess so?”

“Well NOT ON MY WATCH!  After one day of Stan’s Scare-A-Thon Therapy Session, this goat’s gonna be so desensitized it’ll never faint again!”

First, Stan got Moose to wire his satellite to pirate-stream horror movies from Japan.  (Watching these also traumatized Puce, which Stan found hilarious.)  Next Stan hired a clown (who he did not pay) and then practice his jump scares (which made Soos scream so loud it scared off all the birds in a three-mile radius).  After that, Stan converted the Museum into a haunted house, complete with sheet-ghosts, cobwebs, and a looped sound track of death metal, complete with screaming.  He shoved Gompers in and locked it tight.  

He didn't realize until he went back three hours later that he'd also locked the child labor. Moose had collapsed on the floor in the middle of the room – but Gompers was stumbling around bleating to himself.  It didn't look like he'd played dead at all!

Stan grinned.  “Alright, now we're makin' progress!”

“That's great, Mr. Pines,” Bruce gasped.  “You should – oh sweet burrito angels – you should totally save this stuff for Summerween.”

“Summer-what?”

“Summerween!” Soup struggled to sit up and collapsed.  “It's – it's this holiday where – oh man I'm having a panic attack.”

Gompers clonked over, bleated, and started chewing on Soos' face.

Stan roared with laughter and slapped his knee.  “Ha!  This is goat's the best!  Alright, Floose –”

“Soos.”

“Get ready for the main event.  Something even scarier than Japanese horror movies or that weird mold growing in the corner.”

Sue sat up.  “Okay, but if I don't come back, tell my grandma I love her and give all my stuff to charity.”

“The Mystery Shack appreciates your donations!”

Night was falling and the full moon was out.  Luckily Soup had fixed the golf cart right down to the headlights, so they trundled along the beaten road in relative safety.  Gompers and Soos were in the backseat, the kid's arms wrapped around Gompers like it was a really smelly plushy.  He grinned.  When he was done that goat would be almost as hardcore as Stan himself!

When they got close enough, Stan stopped the truck, hustled around to the trunk and started handing a stuff to Soup.  

“Okay. Run ahead and put these all around the tree ahead.  The batteries are all dying so the light'll flicker all weird and creepy.  This one has a full battery.  Lie down at the bottom of the tree, and then when I give the signal, shine it right at the bark.”

“Sure, Mr. Pines!  Which tree is this again?”

“The one with a human soul was trapped in its bark writhing in agony!”

“Ok!”

Stan gave him a shove and then hustled back to the cart, where Gompers was currently chewing on the back seat.  He hopped back in the driver's seat, waited three seconds and then drove slowly up to the Tree of the Screaming Tourist.  It was hard to see the shape of the messed-up bark, which would make it even creepier when Zeus lit up the flashlights.  

He parked, took his portable radio out of the trunk, and then grabbed Gompers.  He set the goat down in front of the tree, backed up, and hovered his finger over the “play” button.

“Okay, Sluice...NOW!”

From the radio, a hollow scream filled the air and the whole tree lit up with a flickering yellow light.  

“Ha! That's perfect!”

“Baa-aa-aah,” said Gompers.

He grinned, but before he could tell Zoop to step it up, the lights suddenly flickered.  They turned orange, then red.  The radio suddenly crackled with static and he dropped it as electricity singed his hand.  The bark of the tree started moving and a huge ghost-y thing ballooned out of it, just a massive face made of fire and fury. Stan backed up with a shout.  Several tree branches snapped and started bending like spider arms.  One of them swung around from the back of the tree – and a certain pear-shaped mechanic was dangling from its twigs.  

He waved.  “Hi, Mr. Pines!  I'm a hostage!”

The spirit's yellow eyes turned on him.  Its pupils went red. “YOOUUUUU!”

“AAH!”

He sprinted for the golf cart, but the spirit lashed out and smashed it with a bark-covered arm.  He grabbed Gompers and held it up.  

“JUST TAKE THE GOAT, TAKE THE GOAT!”

“Do you know how long my spirit has been stuck in that tree, completely alone, just listening to those stupid squirrel-squids chatter about acorns and sushi?  And after years of waiting for you to come back, you finally bring people to visit me – and you tell every last one of them how terrifying I am, so they'll never!  Come!  BACK!”  The face swelled until it blotted out the sky.  Its heat seared his skin. “AM I SCARY ENOUGH FOR YOU NOW, STAN PINES?!”

He screamed and tried to run, dropping the kid, but she swooped down and grabbed him up.  She lifted him higher and higher, squeezing him so tightly he could feel his bones creak.  He could barely breathe!  He had a funny feeling he wasn't the Stan Pines she was talking about, but he couldn't get enough air to tell her that!

“Um, excuse me?  Ms. Tree Spirit?”

They both looked at Soos, who was wiggling one of his chubby little hands to get the spirit's attention.  

“Hrrrrr,” she growled.

He smiled.  “Oh, I'm a him, actually!  Although I do have a feminine softness.  It sounds like you're mad because you've been lonely for so long, right?  But Mr. Pines has been bringing people to see you all the time!”

“They are TERRIFIED of me!”

“Not everyone.”  He pointed.

Gompers was standing on the ground below, absently chewing on a fallen stick. The ghost growled and moved closer, her face distorting until her burning yellow eyes were the size of whole cars, and her face was a gaping maw dripping with reddish flame, mere inches from the goat's puny face.

“DO YOU FEAR ME, LITTLE GOAT?!” she boomed, and her voice was so loud and deep the trees nearby actually shivered and creaked on their roots.

Gompers blinked.  

“Baa-aa-aah,” he said, and resumed his chewing.  

“Hmm.”

“Good goat,” Stan managed.  The spirit scowled and squeezed a little harder.

“But this is not what we agreed to. I don't want people to be afraid of me!”

“But scariness is part of the fun!” Soos said earnestly.  “Plus it's a fun way to spend time together!  My dad never hangs out with me, but Mr. Pines and I watched a horror movie marathon.  And even though I wet myself a couple of times, I wouldn't trade that time for the world.  I'll bet the families who visited you remember how frightening and fun it was, and they'll probably come back to see you again next year!”

Stan could see the spirit thinking it over.  

“Baa-aa-aah,” added the goat.

The spirit snorted and gave Stan a hard look, those ruby peepers staring right into his soul.  “You will keep your promise, Stan Pines?  You will not leave me to suffer in isolation?”

“Guarantee it,” he wheezed.  “Main attraction.  Every tour.  Can't breathe.”

“Very well.  But if you break your promise one more time, the woods will never be safe for you again.”

She let go of Soos and Stan, who hit the forest floor with a dull thump. The spirit withdrew into the bark, lifting her arms to become branches again, while the bark of the trunk twisted and rippled back to its previous shape.  Stan waited for a second, but the tree didn't so much as twitch.  

He sprang to his feet and scooped up the goat.  “Ha!  You did it!  You beautiful monster, you really did it!  You looked that tree-thing straight in the big yellow eye and didn't even twitch!  I bet this goat could handle the frigging apocalypse without batting an eye!”

“Probably!” Soos agreed cheerfully.  

Stan smirked, then mashed Soos' head in a noogie.  “Ya didn't do too bad yourself, there, ya midget.”

“Really?!”

“Uh, are those actual stars in your eyes?”

“For you, Mr. Pines, I would go full-on anime.”

“Don't make this weird, kid.  Now let's see if the golf cart's drivable. I'm allergic to all this bonding and I left my old-man tonic in the Shack.”

“Soda isn't tonic, Mr. Pines.”

“Says you.”

“Baa-aa-aah.”

A/N

“A myotonic goat, otherwise known as the fainting goat, is a domestic goat whose muscles freeze for roughly 3 seconds when the goat feels panic. Though painless, this generally results in the animal collapsing on its side. The characteristic is caused by a hereditary genetic disorder called myotonia congenita. When startled, younger goats will stiffen and fall over. Older goats learn to spread their legs or lean against something when startled, and often they continue to run about in an awkward, stiff-legged shuffle.”

- from a-source-I-forgot-to-save-the-website-for

Also Nour386 came up with the idea about why the Tree was screaming!  I had a different idea but this one is so much better!!!

@nour386

[jincherie]

a day full of nothing but small tragedies... | yixing

⇒ a little piece i started last year for hybrid! yixing/lay and haven’t finished since. I don’t think I’ll be continuing it anytime soon so I may as well share!!! I think from memory it tied into the universe I made for chanyeol’s fic || 2.3k words

The day had been full of nothing but small tragedies thus far. First, you’d somehow managed to sleep through all seven of your alarms— all of which were in place in case you slept through the ones before them, of course. Second, your sibling had stayed over the night before and taken a shower before leaving in the morning— a long shower. When you’d leapt into the stream of water, rushing to make up for a solid hour of lost time, and not bothered to check the temperature you had been treated to the deluxe experience of icy cold water running straight down your back. Needless to say you had leapt back out with a scream faster than you’d managed to get in in the first place. And after that, you were out of milk, despite the fact you’d seen a whole half bottle in the fridge the night before (your sibling was getting a year-long ban from your house) which meant you could have neither your usual cereal nor coffee— and at this point you would have sold your sibling for a mocha.

Your boss hadn’t been too mad when you’d finally rocked up to work (in the end you’d decided to screw rushing and got ready in enough time that you felt better about yourself but still hurried a little). However, you had a feeling that was because a lot of the morning deliveries had been cancelled and you were only five minutes late for the first on of the morning.

Throughout most of your deliveries you managed to stay sane, despite the constant misfortune that seemed so keen to find you today. Finally a bit after midday you made it to your last delivery, smiling when you saw the address, then dropping the expression just as fast when you saw the box. What the hell did a hybrid shelter even need to order that took up a box that big? You tried lifting it a bit to gauge its weight and sputtered. What the fresh heck was in there?! You weren’t looking forward to carrying it into the store.

You arrived quickly at the Exotic Dusk Shelter and sighed before grabbing the necessities and attempting to lift the box. You managed to get it out of the truck, and decided to place it down while you locked it up. You’d thought it was a pretty wise decision, until you had to lift the box back up again. You groaned, people walking by giving you a variety of strange looks. You stared at them until they looked away, and then proceeded to shuffle carefully to the door of the shelter, grumbling the whole way.

You had never really understood struggle until you tried fitting that box through the shelter door. You would try to go to a backdoor but there weren’t any that led to the shop at the front. You pushed and pulled and cursed, wondering where that smug black cat Chen was. Usually he would be around to tease you by now and you kind of needed the interaction to vent you current frustration. You opened you mouth to call out to him, giving a strong pull at the box wedged in the doorway at the same time, when it gave way and finally popped through. You weren’t ready at all and it knocked you onto the floor, too heavy for you to shove off by yourself. What was in here?!

“CHEN!” you shrieked as you went down, groaning at the weight. You could still breathe but the positioning wasn’t exactly comfortable and you were struggling with movement. Why had the fates taken such a disliking to you on this day in particular?

You knew the cat had heard your distressed call and come to check it out when you heard loud, boisterous laughter from where you knew the door to the back rooms to be.

“Stop laughing and come help me you jerk! What is even in here?!” you cried, face flushing a little in embarrassment when he laughed harder. “Chen I swear to god I will pull—“

The hybrid with raven locks was still laughing as he scampered over and rolled the box off of you, giving you a hand up.

Glad that affair was over, you hit the smirking feline with your clipboard and cursed. “Chen you are so rude, I almost died!”

He snickered. “Yeah, but I saved you. You clutz.”

You looked at Chen, squinting as you observed the bubbly grin on his face, the bright eyes and joyful bounce in his usually sly step. “What’s got you so over the moon? Also I need you to sign here.”

Chen took the offered clipboard and pen and signed for the delivery before handing it back and bouncing happily. “That person I told you about came by today and Chanyeol got adopted! I have a really good feeling about this one, y/n!”

You squealed, letting Chen clutch your hands as you both bounced together excitedly. “Oh my god, really?! Oh I’m so glad, he deserves to have a home and someone to rely on permanently. When did this happen?!”

“They came by the other week, but finished paying and picked him up earlier this morning.” Chen purred, eyes forming crescents in his elation and sharper than human canines glinting with his wide grin.

You felt like you could float you were so happy Chanyeol had finally seemed to find a forever home. “This is great! I hope he’s happy.”

Chen nodded, seeming to calm a little but unable to rid his face of the grin. “He adores them.” He purred, nudging your ribs playfully. You grinned.

“Ah,” you started suddenly, remembering the other thing you needed to give the hybrid. “I almost forgot.”

Reaching into your satchel you pulled out three stapled booklets, holding them out to Chen whose eyes lit up in recognition. “I printed the latest Spliced updates for Sehun and Tao. I gave them a quick glance, I think things really start heating up in these ones. The next few updates are going to be hectic.”

Chen took them from your hand, gratitude shining in his eyes. “Thank you for printing them, Tao and Sehun have been bugging me nonstop about when the next updates will be out and they refuse to read anything else that doesn’t have hybrids as main characters. Believe me, I’ve tried. They’ll be over the moon to get these.” He smiled.

You returned the grin before starting as you checked your watch. A parcel was getting delivered soon and you had to be home to receive it. You explained this to Chen and he nodded, bidding you farewell and telling you to drop by again soon, a large smile still donning his face as he clutched the printed webcomic updates you’d given him. You left after waving back, affronted by a sudden downpour the second you left the shelter, getting soaked to the bone in mere moments.

Thunder cracked as you hopped into your van. Today just wasn’t your day.

 xxxxxx

By the time you got home it was late and the streets were dark, rain coming down just as heavily as it had been when you left the shelter. After being kept in traffic that was the worst possible combination of inner-city madness and wet weather traffic, you’d somehow managed to catch every single red light on the way. At this point you were above being bitter, you were simply amazed at how terrible your luck had been the whole day. It was truly incredible.

You’d even completely forgotten about your package, too focused on trying to preserve what little dryness you’d managed to create on your body during the drive home as you hurried into your home, until you got a good five steps into your kitchen. You cursed, looking balefully out the window at the unfortunate weather. The post office was where your package had most likely been sent, and that was just a little ways down the road. You didn’t want to bother driving, it was too close and honestly didn’t appeal to you at all, so with a sigh you slipped your shoes back on with a wet squelch and fumbled out the door and into the rain once more. You could console yourself with a hot chocolate from the café next to the post office.

You ordered your hot chocolate first, slipping into the warmth of the café and shivering in delight. You decided to treat yourself, purchasing two hot chocolates— you were cold and honestly you knew yourself well enough to know you would crave another afterwards anyways. Another day you might have gotten a coffee instead but you could get that at home— right now what your house lacked was hot chocolate. You even splurged a bit and got cream on top.

While your order was being made you ducked into the post office and picked up your package (it was a videogame— you had priorities) and purchased an umbrella while you were there. You didn’t actually have one and days like this reminded you of their necessity. You quickly dashed back to get your drinks with a smile to the barista before exiting just as swiftly and beginning the miserable trek up a hill to your apartment complex. There were a few buildings and shops along the way, and usually you would ignore the dark alleys in between structures in favour of rushing home and getting that hill over and done with, but this time something caught your attention. There was shuffling as you passed one of the larger alleys, the sound of scuffling and rustling behind one of the large dumpsters. Curious (it was a bad habit of yours), you leaned in and paused in your determined trek home.

You weren’t disappointed; the noise came again and this time it was followed by a small splash, and then a bang, and then a pained whimper.

You hurried closer quietly, peering around the edge of the dumpster, rain pattering heavily against your new umbrella and dripping in torrents off the side. You were startled, to say the least, at the sight of a male hybrid curled up against the wall and dumpster, shivering and soaked to the bone. His eyes were screwed shut and his ears were flattened against his head (probably to keep the water out, you reasoned), and he probably hadn’t heard you approach over the thunderous noise of the rain.

With instant sympathy for his soaked situation, you crouched, placing your drinks on the ground in favour of holding your umbrella up and gently placing a hand on the hybrid’s shoulder. He was startled, but you’d sort of expected it. He looked like a stray, but you couldn’t tell how long he had been that way. Beautiful feline eyes caught yours and if you’d had any question as to what kind of hybrid he was those golden orbs answered it. For a moment you were disarmed at the open way you could read his emotions just from his eyes. He was scared.

You smiled softly, trying to soothe him. A hand reached down and grabbed one of the warm drinks you’d intended on consuming. You held it out for him, trying to exude patience and convey how truly harmless you were. You held the umbrella over both of you.

“You don’t have to have it if you don’t want to, but the hot chocolates from that café are incredible and I bought two. You look like you could use something warm,” you grinned, eyes closing momentarily. “I even got cream.”

The hybrid seemed dubious but the more he searched your gaze for anything malicious, the more he seemed to come up empty. Finally he eased a little, reaching a trembling hand to take the drink from you. You beamed, shifting to adjust the package under your arm.

“I really like your eyes. Are you a cat hybrid? Do you have a name?” you asked, probably rushing into things too soon.

He sipped the hot chocolate, eyes fluttering closed for a moment before they opened again and he took a larger drink, nodding. “My name is Yixing, but my… they called me Lay.”

You tilted your head a little. “Which do you prefer?”

He seemed taken aback at your question, pausing mid-sip. “Yixing.” He mumbled.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Yixing. I’m y/n,” you smiled, finding it cute how he hid his face behind the papery cup containing his drink. “Do you… Do you have somewhere you can go? This weather isn’t very friendly.”

You caught the sadness the second it entered his eyes and knew even before he shook his head that the answer was no. Your smile was gentle as you shifted a little in your crouch to ease the pressure on your legs.

“Well, how about this then. I live a little further down the road, and I have a spare bedroom in my apartment and a ton of blankets and towels. You’re very welcome to stay the night and clean up, have a warm shower or a bath, and something to eat if you’d like. You won’t have an obligation to stay, or to leave. You can do as you wish.” You offered, a small smile on your lips. As an afterthought and in an effort to ease any worries he might have, you added, “You won’t owe me for this, nothing is expected of you if you decide to stay.”

Yixing bit his lip, hands wrapped around the hot chocolate you had given him. He looked uncertain, uneasy yet desperate to get out of the cold and wet. You kept a patient look, trying not to seem too overjoyed when he softly agreed. You couldn’t help but grin.

“Excellent!” you cheered, easing up and holding out a hand. “Come on, the sooner we get there and out of this rain the better.”

He took your offered help, standing on shaky legs and swaying. He ended up leaning against you as you walked. His tattered crimson turtleneck did nothing to protect him from the harmful weather and he shivered and quaked against your frame the whole way home.