#just gonna stare at this while my other sketches sit in a pile next to me

[6lostgirl6]

Hello again! I’m the anon from yesterday. May I request another Bill (totally good with Bill from any of the films. Alex Winter is just a cutie honestly) or Marko fic with an arty partner please? Just the thought of either of them casually posing like a catalogue model in the hopes their partner will draw them is endlessly amusing to me.

Also, I don’t feel like I’ve thanked you properly for the fic you wrote me so would you like a picture in return? Bill and Ted and The Lost Boys are usually my thing but if there’s anyone else you’d like me to draw, let me know.

Omg! I enjoyed writing this for you! You don't have to draw me anything!If you're sure, I would like the lost boys if that's okay? (●u●)

Muse

Marko x Artistic!Reader

TW: None

You were leaning against your large pile of pillows, the slightly worn blankets surrounding you like a protective cocoon. Whenever you felt artistic, you would always retreat to your nest and sketch whatever it was that your mind conjured. Sometimes you needed some alone time whenever you felt like drawing, being able to concentrate in your own private space helped you with your creativity. Your nest was practically your own art studio.

Often times, Marko would join you when he was also in a mood for sketching. Unlike Paul, who needed music to help him concentrate, Marko enjoyed the silence. Therefore, the both of you decided that you would draw together weekly as a little stay at home date. Just being in each other's presence was enough to put you both in a creative mindset, shoulders touching and lingering gazes and draw whatever came to your minds.

Unfortunately, Marko and the boys were due for a feeding tonight. Therefore, Marko wouldn't be able to join you this week for your little date night filled with flirtation and art projects.

_________

It has been a few hours and while Marko was full from feeding earlier, he was hungry for something else. He craved the presence of his precious mate. Earlier, he was a little upset that he had to cancel his date with you. However, him and the boys haven't fed in a while and they knew they couldn't postpone any longer lest they wanted to feel weak.

However, he was going to make it up to you. Rather than staying out all night like usual, he got on his bike and arrived earlier than expected. He just missed you so much.

He walked into the cave and headed towards your slightly concealed nest that was surrounded by shimmery-curtains. Sometimes, whenever Marko would visit your nest, he felt like he was walking upon royalty. That's what you were to him. His mate. Someone priceless.

Uncharacteristically quiet, Marko pulled back the curtain and stared as he watched you continue with your sketch. You were humming to yourself, not noticing the new presence that has joined you. He continued to watch you, smirking to himself while the leather of his fingerless gloves.

God, you were so perfect and completely his.

Depite Marko being quiet, he will always find ways to create a little mischief. He devised a plan and quickly put it into action.

Silent as a mouse, he rushed towards the bed, swan diving and belly-flopping onto the bed. "Hey, baby!" He greeted loudly, wrapping his arms around your waist and giving you a squeeze.

You gasped in freight from the scare and turned towards him with a playful glare. "Don't do that!" You scolded, lightly bonking his head with the end of your pencil.

He laughed, rubbing your sides as he nuzzled into your lower back. "Sorry baby, you're just so easy to scare." He placed a kiss into your back before continuing his nuzzling.

You felt your face grow a little warm. "Shush. What are you doing back so early?" You asked, curiously.

Marko sighed before pushing himself up, moving to where he was sitting next to you and leaned against your shoulder. "Mmm, missed you is all." He said, looking up at you with a smirk.

You smiled and turned, giving him a small kiss which he quickly reciprocated. "I missed you too. Are you gonna draw with me?" You asked.

Marko chuckled mischievously. "I was thinking," he turned around, propping himself on his elbows and bending one of his legs, leaning his head back so his long curls caressed your sheets, "I could be your muse tonight."

You watched him in amusement as he continued to hold his pose. However, seeing him like that was very attractive. His jacket was starting to slip down his shoulders and his white crop top was pulled up slightly, exposing his tummy. He reminded you of those ancient Greek statues.

"How could I not draw such a handsome man?" You flirted, flicking through your journal to start a fresh page.

He smiled, lifting his head to look at you better. "After this, it'll be my turn to draw such a gorgeous being."

"Am I your muse or something?" You chuckled, leaning forward to fix his curl that hanged in the middle of his forehead.

His smile turned devious, "You've always been." He gripped your hand before you could pull away. "And I am yours." He gave it a squeeze.

You giggled, returning the squeeze. "Being each other's muses, how romantic."

"Course it is." He roughly pulled you close, gripping the back of your head and giving you a deep kiss, which you happily returned.

Pulling away slightly, he liked his lips before randomly flopping onto his back. "Now Hurry up, babe! I'm not getting any younger here!"

You laughed before shaking your head at him. "Yeah, yeah, whatever."

[elisela]

above the ground (ao3) buck x eddie, 1.3k, domestic fluff, trees of vermont for the second day of @eddiediaz‘s birthday week celebration!

--

The first time Eddie catches Buck staring up at the trees in the backyard he’s just finished pulling all the yellow tile out of their bathroom, plaster dust still coating his arms. Buck had heaved a box full of the cracked clay into the outdoor garbage can, turned to walk back to the house, and just—stopped. “You good?” he asks, and Buck visibility shakes himself out of his reverie.

“Yep,” he says, glancing down at Eddie’s empty hands. “Was that the last of it?”

“Still another pile,” Eddie says, and follows behind him when Buck claps him on the shoulder and pushes past him on the way back into the house.

--

The second—and third—time they’re barbecuing. Or, well, they aren’t, but Bobby is, taking over their backyard because theirs is being reseeded. Eddie’s not doing much of anything; the kids are running around the yard, Buck and Chim are in the middle of dragging Bobby’s patio table over so they all have places to sit, Karen is swatting at Athena’s hand when she reaches into the salad bowl to pinch an olive between her fingers.

Buck drops into the chair next to him after the table placement is approved by Hen, threading their fingers together with an easy sigh and accepting the cold bottle Eddie hands him gratefully. His head is tipped back, eyes trained on the far corner of the yard, one of the corners of his mouth pinched thoughtfully.

“Planning something?” Eddie says, because he knows that look. That’s the look that caused them to strip and restain all the hardwood floors downstairs the weekend before, the look that preceded Buck’s proposal that they rip out the out-of-place island in the kitchen, take out the crappy wire shelving in the pantry and replace it with wood, and while they’re at it, Buck’s never liked the placement of the refrigerator anyway.

“Maybe,” Buck says. He sounds far away, and Eddie wonders what havoc he’ll bring to the house now.

“Cool,” is all he says. There hasn’t been anything Buck’s done that he hasn’t liked—fish scale tile in Christopher’s bathroom aside, because that was one hundred percent his son’s choice. “You know where the credit card is.”

--

In retrospect, he shouldn’t have been surprised when he comes home a week later and there’s a pile of lumber sitting in the corner of the backyard.

--

The plans for the treehouse are stretched across Buck’s desk, and Eddie runs his fingers over the detailed sketch, the trunk of the tree it’s all built around. If he’s reading it right, it’s meant to be just fifteen feet off the ground, an octagonal structure with a deck that faces the backyard, an enclosed room at the back, a staircase that spirals up to it.

“I would have put it up higher, but I had to work around city ordinances,” Buck says from behind him. He’s leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed loosely over his chest. “That’s as tall—and as big—as I could make it without applying for waivers.”

“This is amazing,” Eddie says, glancing back at the plans. “I didn’t even know Chris wanted a treehouse.”

Buck huffs out a laugh. “Well,” he says, “he hasn’t said anything to me, either. But one of his classmates was talking about backyard camping and how cool it would be to have a treehouse to live in during the summer, and the look on Chris’ face—I just thought it would be pretty easy to give him.”

Eddie’s going to marry this man. “You need help with it?”

“Yeah, but I’m not sure when we’ll get started. I called an arborist—don’t look impressed, it was Bobby’s idea, he said we should get the whole yard checked before any more trees decide to crash through the roof—and I’m waiting to schedule with them. Don’t wanna start building before I know if the tree can hold it.”

“Chris is gonna be thrilled,” Eddie says. “But I hope you know that you’re the one sleeping out there with him. I’ve done my time sleeping outdoors.”

Buck laughs and pulls him close. “He’s almost eight, Eds. Let him and Denny go out on their own, and we can have some fun in here.”

Eddie pauses, hands on Buck’s warm, solid side. “You know he’s gone for the next few hours, right?”

Buck still closes the door behind them.

--

Maybe Eddie should be over a shirtless and sweaty Buck, but it’s a sight he never wants to drag his eyes away from. The last weeks of summer have been blisteringly hot, so naturally Buck decided that it would be the best time to build.

Eddie has no complaints—except when Chim starts calling him over to help.

They’d started early, driving a rented lift into the backyard just after sunrise so they could get the frame built out around the tree. Eddie had done his part by staying out of the way and making sure there were enough bagels to satisfy even Buck’s insatiable hunger, picking up lunch from Bobby’s when they took a mid-day break, and was about to disappear again when Chim called his name.

“Eddie,” he says, hands on his hips fifteen feet up, straddling two of the cross-sections that radiate from around the tree, “getting the base down would go a lot faster if you could hoist the planks up to us.”

In the end, Eddie is almost as sweaty as they are, arms pleasantly sore in a way they haven’t been in a very long time.

The build takes three days; they finish the round base and railing on the first day, the staircase takes them all of Sunday, and Buck is antsy all week, never getting home early enough to get started on the enclosed section without losing the light. Christopher walks up the stairs daily, spreading himself out on the base and laughing when Eddie aims the hose up at him.

Buck’s up at daybreak the next weekend, the sound of hammering waking Eddie from what had been a good dream. He’d made Eddie promise not to let Chris watch the progress, so as soon as Chim knocks on the door, Eddie takes Chris and leaves, spends the day running errands and waiting for Buck to give them the all clear, a text that doesn’t arrive until it’s nearly dinner time.

He picks up pizza on his way home, tries not to laugh at the way Chris bypasses the front door and goes immediately around the side of the house, yelling for Buck as he does. Eddie slows his steps—he knows Buck and Chris are already bonded, that they love being around each other, but he wants to give them a moment that’s just for them after Buck has done something so incredibly huge for his son.

Chris is already in the enclosed section when he makes his way up the staircase, and it’s nothing like he had imagined. This isn’t the cheap, hastily built treehouses he’d seen while looking for houses—it’s like a log cabin up in a tree, and although he can see the exhaustion in Buck’s body as he walks around with Chris, the only expression on his face is the excitement that’s mirrored on Christopher’s.

“Buck says we can sleep up here tonight!” Chris says excitedly, tugging on his hand. “I’m gonna go pack my stuff!”

--

“Air mattresses are less comfortable than I remembered,” Buck says much later that night, after Chris had already dropped off to sleep. “Maybe we should get real beds in here.”

“Maybe you were right about letting him be on his own,” Eddie says, linking their fingers together. It’s far from the worst place he’s slept, but Eddie’s a creature of comfort now. “We can give them walkies to check in. I’m calling Hen first thing tomorrow.”

[letswritebangtan]

Let’s Get Tattoos Together

pairing: tattooartist!Jungkook x female!reader

prompt: Jungkook dreamed of opening his own tattoo parlour with his hyung, Yoongi, and when he finally did, you show up on his doorstep asking for a job and he’s not happy to give it to you. Lord knows how you two end up having sex in his studio. :)

warnings: mature content! 18+ read at your own risk. 

ask box: open

masterlist

_________________________________________________________

You know those moments where you expect too much and then feel more pissed than let down because damn they fucked up bad? That moment was now. Jungkook and Yoongi stared up at the neon signboard in utter disgust and shame just thinking about how someone could screw up this bad. 

“It’s not even black.” Jungkook muttered in disbelief. 

“It’s neon.” Yoongi confirmed. 

“They didn’t even get the spelling right.” Jungkook continued. 

Yoongi huffed “. . . What’s ‘BONKED’ supposed to read as?”

“Sounds like a strip club.”

“Yup.” Yoongi said popping the ‘p’.

“We can’t afford a new one, hyung.” Jungkook whined. 

“You don’t think I know that?” Yoongi said gruffly. 

He was beyond irritated at this moment. Both him and Jungkook had poured their entire life savings into opening this tattoo parlor and he was one hundred percent sure that absolutely no one was ever going to walk into a painful neon green store called BONKED to get a tattoo or to get anything for that matter. 

“We’ll just have to make do.” 

“I feel like I’m gonna barf.” Jungkook mumbled.

“Well your barf on this building won’t make it look any worse.”

The weeks went by and the boys worked hard to start up this little business of theirs. Jungkook spent hours walking around handing out flyers to people to let them know that what they were standing in front of was indeed a tattoo parlor and not some front for a shady business. Meanwhile, Yoongi sat indoors and worked on how he could at least make the inside of the store look decent. It was a tough few months for them but they kept going. A few customers popped in once in a while and it was mostly Yoongi who worked on them because between him and Jungkook, he was more experienced and they wanted to leave a good first impression on their customers. 

Jungkook spent his after-hours in the store working on sketches and practicing on himself. He was running out of space on his right arm so it was time for him to start thinking of where to go next. Even though Yoongi was more experienced, Jungkook was incredibly talented in his field. His attention to detail and the focus he had when working on a piece was flawless. Jungkook didn’t tattoo often, but when he did, his work always turned out to be perfect.

A few months into the business was when things started to get a lot more rocky. 

“Did you clear out the register yesterday?” Yoongi asked. 

“Yeah, they’re in the safe.”

“We need to start doing our accounts, Jungkook-ah. Let’s see if we have anything we can use to change this place up a little.”

Hours and hours into doing their accounts the two fell face-flat onto their desks.

“We have nothing. Zero.” Jungkook mumbled. 

“Actually, it’s negative. We’re in a deficit.” 

The two of them groaned and flipped through more receipts and bills in hopes of some good news but they couldn’t do it. 

“I guess I’ll grab some dinner.” Jungkook said as he stood up and cleared the table. 

“Make it quick, I’m starving.”

“Okay, grandpa.” Jungkook mocked and Yoongi sent him a glare, making the youngest snicker. 

The bell chimed and their attention moved immediately to the door. They watched you in surprise as you entered the store around 5 minutes before closing time. Looking around, you got slightly startled when you saw two guys gawking at you, but you cleared your throat and stepped forward slightly. 

“Uh hi, you guys aren’t closed yet are you?” 

There was a small silence for a while. Jungkook couldn’t find it in himself to speak so Yoongi took over. 

“We aren’t, but if you’re looking to get a job done you’ll have to come back tomorrow.” 

“Oh,” you smiled nervously, “Actually I’m not here for any of that. I noticed that you guys are relatively new in the area and I was wondering if you needed any help around here?” 

Yoongi looked confused, “As in, you’re looking for a job?”

You nodded. 

Jungkook spoke up, “As a tattoo artist?” he said skeptically. His tone sounded offended and it struck you as quite rude. 

You frowned at him, “No actually, not as a tattoo artist but as anything else.”

“Sorry, we don’t need anybody.” Jungkook dismissed you gruffly. 

God, why was he being so rude? 

“Really? I couldn’t help but notice that you guys aren’t doing too well here.” you spoke back.

Jungkook eyed you up and down. “Excuse me? What makes you say that? We’re doing great and business is booming. Isn’t that right, hyung?” he looked at the older man. 

“Um, well it hasn’t-”

“See? Just fine.” Jungkook retorted. 

“That’s a lie. I can tell if businesses are doing well or if they aren’t.” you crossed your arms smirking. 

“Can you now? What makes you think ours isn’t?” Jungkook scoffed. 

“Well for starters, I don’t see anybody in here-”

“We’re about to close.” Jungkook defended. 

“I didn’t finish.” you said raising your eyebrows. “I don’t see anybody in here ever.”

Jungkook scowled, he was annoyed at the audacity of this random stranger to be entering his store and criticising his business. 

“Secondly, no one around here knows what this store does. I spoke with the lady from the bakery across the street and she claimed that this was some kind of gay bar?”

Yoongi and Jungkook looked perplexed and their expressions had you holding in your laughter. 

“It wasn’t until my friend came in the other day for a tat, that he told me this place was actually just another tattoo parlor.”

“Jesus Christ.” Yoongi huffed. 

“Oh and also, the sign-”

“Don’t even.” Jungkook huffed and looked away. 

You felt proud of yourself, but at the same time looking at these young, passionate boys’ faces you knew they must have put in a shit ton of effort to get this place up and running, and you had no right to just come in here and point out their flaws like that. What they needed was a solution. 

“With all that being said,” you paused momentarily. “I can help you guys fix it.”

“I told you that we don’t need-”

“Jungkook, shut up for a moment will you? Go on.” Yoongi urged you. 

“I majored in Accounts and Finance, I also have knowledge and experience on marketing, plus I’ve got a decent eye for things and that being said, that signboard has got to go.” 

“Accounts? Wait, take a look at these.” Yoongi called you over to the table and Jungkook just watched in disbelief. The betrayal he felt from his hyung was unbelievable. 

You stood over the table which looked like a mess, by the way. Papers strewn everywhere, random documents, some cash pile in the corner and a half-full mug of coffee. 

“Sorry, it’s a little gross.” Yoongi apologised. 

You chuckled, “It’s no big deal. Could I have a look at those receipts?” 

The two guys watched you as you silently picked up different sheets of paper and scanned it thoroughly, mumbling numbers to yourself in the process. Well, these guys weren’t doing too bad but you knew they could do better. You glanced at the pile of cash at the corner of the desk and looked over to Yoongi.

“What’s that?”

“Hyung, she’s after our money.” Jungkook said quickly.

You glared at him and he shot you one back. Why was he out to get you? Despite his annoying traits, you couldn’t deny the fact that he was extremely good-looking. Well, the both of them were. But there was something about Jungkook that had you drooling in that small secret compartment of your head. He was well-built, his pecs pushing out through his t-shirt, his sleeves clinging to his biceps and his defined collarbones on full view. His hair was like a black mop, it looked soft and silky and it framed his face nicely. He had a really cute nose and the softest looking eyes but his expression was harsh towards you and you had no idea why. 

“It’s what we owe. We’re running in a bit of a loss right now.” Yoongi said ignoring Jungkook. 

“A loss?” you asked confused. “That shouldn’t be right, look.” you moved to sit next to Yoongi and showed him the contents on the paper. After explaining to him in detail you moved the pile of cash from the end of the table towards them. 

“This is all yours, you guys. You’ve been looking at it wrong. This shop isn’t doing too bad, but it isn’t great either. If this keeps up, you’ll probably start making losses in the next 3 months or so. But you might not, if you’ll let me help.” you persuaded.  

“And I’m not here to steal your money.” you said pointedly to Jungkook. “In fact, I won’t ask for anything for the first few months. When I’ve proven that I’ve improved this store and when you can afford it, you can pay me then. What do you guys say?”

Yoongi looked convinced, and he turned to the youngest to ask for his approval. 

“Looks like we need her after all, Jungkook.” 

Jungkook squinted his eyes at you and took a deep breath, letting out a loud huff. “Fine, so be it.” he said grumpily. 

You beamed and thanked them, Yoongi even shook hands with you. 

“Hold on, you didn’t even tell us your name.” Yoongi asked. 

“Oh shit, right. I’m sorry that was rude of me, I’m y/n.” you apologised. 

“I’m Min Yoongi, and this is Jeon Jungkook. We’ve been friends since kindergarten, so we’re pretty close. It’s been a dream of ours to open this place.” Yoongi said smiling softly. 

“That’s amazing, you guys should be proud that you’ve gotten here.” you said genuinely. 

Jungkook glanced at you then and you made eye contact with him. He awkwardly picked up his car keys and phone whilst looking away from you. 

“I’ll go grab dinner before they close.” he spoke to Yoongi. 

“Oh no, did I hold you guys back? I’m sorry, you should really have your dinner. I’ll leave now.” you stood up. 

“That’s alright, oh and Jungkook will walk you to your car, won’t you Jungkook?” Yoongi asked smirking. 

Jungkook looked startled and had that same look of betrayal on his face, this time there was a shade of pink. 

“What? But she can- ugh fine.” Jungkook grumbled. “Hurry up.” he snapped at you and you rolled your eyes at him. 

“You’ll have to excuse him, don’t take it personally.” Yoongi said to you once Jungkook was outside. 

“Well that’s gonna be tough.” you replied playfully. “See you tomorrow! Good night.” you said cheerily and followed Jungkook outside. 

____________________________________________________

Your first week at the job went by pretty quickly. Yoongi showed you around so you’d get used to the place. He showed you to your working space which wasn’t the best but it was the best that he could afford. There was that desk you used when you first entered, and there were some cute little plants on the table. They even gave you new pens, pencils and a calculator. There was a desk fan attached to your table and its wires were heavily tangled everywhere but it was all they had. It was obvious that they did their best to welcome you, and you felt touched about it. 

Most of your time was spent doing the accounts of course, and you were really efficient with them. It was a really relaxed work environment, sometimes Yoongi showed up with coffee or some snacks which you appreciated. Jungkook would ask to borrow a pencil from time to time, and as much as you were mad at him you couldn’t say no because they probably gave you everything they had to make a good first impression and the thought that they couldn’t afford to buy more pencils saddened you. During your breaks you’d lounge around and maybe check up on Jungkook to see what he was drawing. Whenever you’d ask him he’d always reply with an annoyed grunt or he’ll shoo you away. 

One day, you really tried to find that goodness in your heart to do something nice for Jungkook so that maybe he wouldn’t be so pissy towards you, so you bought him a carton of banana milk and a pack of oreos. When you handed it to him, he looked at you so weirdly and you became so uncomfortable that you never wanted to be in situations with him like that ever again. So the acts of kindness stopped. There was also another thing you made yourself be in charge of: weekly meetings. Yoongi always told you that you didn’t have to make it so official since it was just the three of you working just like how three friends worked on a group project but you insisted. 

“Do I really have to write all this down?” Jungkook complained. 

“Aren’t you secretary?” you scolded. 

“Well yeah, but I didn’t have a choice.”

“So you better do your job before I fire you.”

Jungkook gaped at you and turned to Yoongi. “Hyung are you hearing this?!”

“Don’t make her fire you, Jungkook.”  

It was about 10 weeks later and you were close to hitting the target set for the store. It was important that you proved to them that you were good at your job and that you deserved a place here. You didn’t want to leave, because it was really nice working with them. You felt secure and they were like your friends, or at least Yoongi was. That night, you stayed after closing time to continue working on statements. Something just wasn’t working, and you had to figure out what. After hours of staring at the same numbers over and over again you felt like you needed a break. Just then, Jungkook entered the corner of your workspace. 

“You’re still here?” he asked surprised. 

You nodded, “Well I’m not finished so yes. I don’t think I’m leaving anytime soon.”

“Well don’t stay up too late.” 

Surprised, you looked up at him so fast that you startled him slightly. 

“That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” you laughed softly as you stretched your body in your chair. 

He scoffed, “I only said that because I’m the one who has to close up after you so if you don’t leave neither can I.”

“Thanks for ruining the moment.”

“My pleasure.” he replied with a smug smile. 

Rolling your eyes, you stood up from your chair and grabbed your phone and purse. “I’m going to get some coffee, want anything?” you asked. 

“Coffee at 10 p.m.?” he asked while judging you. 

“Well, I guess that’s a no.” you mumbled and headed to the door. 

“Wait.” he called out. Turning around abruptly you didn’t expect him to be that close behind you that you ended up crashing into his chest. You stumbled but he caught you by your shoulders to steady you. He was looking right at you and this was physically the closest the two of you had ever been. 

“Easy there, if you’re hurt Yoongi will literally rip me apart.” he mumbled. 

Trying to ignore the redness in your cheeks you smiled awkwardly and stood upright as Jungkook let go of you. “I don’t blame him.” you shrugged and laughed when you saw Jungkook’s annoyed expression. 

“Wait, I forgot why we ended up here. What was it you asked me?” you said.

“Right, I was uh- just you know thinking of maybe asking if you’d like me to drive you...to the coffee shop...” he said nervously. 

“Wow.” was all that you replied, and Jungkook looked even more embarrassed. 

“Forget it.” he said moving away. 

“No! Sorry, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-just, yeah. Drive me, I’d like you to drive me there, please?” you asked quickly.

Surprised by your sudden reaction he felt his heart relax a little when you didn’t reject his offer. 

“Okay cool.” he said clearing his throat awkwardly. 

It was really quiet in the car, and also really awkward. There was so much tension with that embarrassing encounter the two of you had just five minutes ago. You tried to take your mind off it, and your thoughts aimlessly wandered to how handsome Jungkook looked while he was driving. His hair covered his eyes a little, and you could see all the piercings on his left ear. That’s hot, you thought to yourself. His tattoos on his right arm were visible as he gripped the wheel with that hand and at this point you were shamelessly staring at him. 

“Enjoying the view?”

You hummed, and then snapped out of your daydreaming only to see Jungkook chuckling at you. 

“I mean, no! I was just- I was looking out the window and I wasn’t really looking anyway I was thinking and your biceps were distracting so I-wait! No no no, shit what’s wrong with me?” you freaked. 

Jungkook only laughed even more at this and then turned to look at you. 

“Does y/n have a crush?” he teased.

You looked at him with a deadpanned expression, “Are you seriously teasing me about a guy when that guy is you?”

“So you are crushing on me. Interesting...”

“Oh my god, shut up! I am absolutely not, in no way attracted to you.”

“Ouch.” he winced playfully. 

“You heard me.” you grumbled as you turned to look the other way so he couldn’t see the blush on your cheeks. You thanked god that it was dark and he couldn’t see you red all over. 

He snickered and pulled up in front of the coffee shop. 

“I’ll wait here, could you grab something for me too? Surely you’d do anything for me since you know, you like me and all...” he continued to tease. 

You grabbed your phone and purse and stormed out of the car. “I ain’t getting shit for you, asshole!” you yelled as you walked away which had Jungkook dying of laughter since literally everyone around was staring at you. 

Back at the store, you sipped on your coffee as you worked out more numbers. Jungkook sat on the beanbag across from you sketching by himself. Yoongi had already left a while ago so it was just the two of you. 

As you were writing something down Jungkook spoke up. 

“How’d you know that this was my usual?” he asked holding up the coffee cup. 

You looked up from the paper and looked back down, pushing your work glasses up your nose. “One time, Yoongi accidentally handed me your drink instead of mine and when I took a sip it tasted like garbage so followed my intuition and I ordered the worst thing in there.” you said plainly. 

“My drink is not garbage.” Jungkook retorted. 

“Yes it is, it’s not even coffee. It’s all milk and sugar.”

“Well I’m a milk and sugar person, what’s wrong with that?”

“What’s wrong is your offending the real coffee-drinkers out there.”

“There’s nothing wrong with adding milk and sugar to your drinks.” Jungkook whined and you couldn’t help but to smile at him being effortlessly cute. 

“Okay, whatever you say.” 

But Jungkook wasn’t too happy with that response. “Say it like you mean it.” he ordered. 

“Excuse me what?” you looked at him confused. 

“Say that there’s nothing wrong with my drink.” he demanded.

You scoffed, “What are you, eight?”

“Well if you’re not gonna say it...” he shrugged. 

You ignored him and went back to work. A few seconds later you nearly had a heart attack because Jungkook was pouring some of his coffee into yours. 

“What the hell!” you yelled and tried to grab the cup from him and both your coffee’s ended up spilling all over the accounts sheets. 

You just stood there in shock and disappointment as you stared at the soaking wet paper that could not be saved. You pinched the bridge of your nose and took in a sharp breath. “Jungkook.” you muttered lowly.

The poor boy was also in shock, knowing he fucked up badly and now he was going to have to pay for it. 

“I- it was an accident I didn’t intend to-”

“Why are you such a brat?! You couldn’t just leave it could you?! I spend day after day rotting my ass off here trying to crunch these numbers and when I’m so close to finding something you had to shove your annoying ass into my work-do you know how much time has been wasted now that all these are gone and Yoongi is going to kill me if I don’t get this done in time even though it was your fault! And no, I will never admit that there’s anything fine with your drink, you or your stupid!-mmpfh”

It came to you as a shock when you realised you had a pair of lips pressed against yours. They were soft and they molded against yours perfectly making you weak in the knees. A hand cupped your face and brought you closer, your waist pressing against the table in front of you. Your hands rested below you on the desk as Jungkook kissed you, capturing your lips with his over and over again until you pulled away breathless. You couldn’t think with your mind in a haze. Jungkook looked at you in silence, waiting for you to say something, but all you could do was fall back to the chair behind you. 

“y/n?” Jungkook said concernedly. 

You cleared your throat and stood up quickly again. “I-I’ll get the mop and bucket.” you said softly before running out of there into the storage closet and shutting the door behind you. 

You cursed yourself for reacting so stupidly. Jungkook must think that you hate him, but obviously you don’t. You really, really, like him, especially after having the feeling of his lips on yours - oh god, you fucked up. You remembered his scared and hurt expression when you scurried away like that. The worst part was that you had to go back out there. When you returned with the mop and bucket, Jungkook was gone, but so was the mess. He had cleaned up all by himself, wait, how long were you in there? You sighed and saw that he had left the store key for you to lock up, which means he had probably gone home. You had no idea how it had escalated to arguing about coffee, to this. But you knew that you’d rather be buried alive than to ever have to face Jungkook again. 

_____________________________________________________

Yoongi had asked if you could pick up breakfast that morning since both him and Jungkook had an appointment and of course, you agreed. Business was picking up recently because let’s face it, you’re great at this job. Even though you lost those numbers since they got soaked in coffee, you managed to work your way around it and pulled up some income statements and cash book entries which clearly showed how well the store was profiting. You and Jungkook have not spoken since the incident and that was more than a week ago, and it was killing you. You wanted to talk to him and explain yourself but you were too scared. Plus he has been extra mean to you ever since, which made you not want to apologise even more. The only time he ever said something to you was when you were in the way and he practically snapped at you to move. That’s gotta hurt. 

Most of the time you’ve been coming up with ways to avoid him, but today was not that day since you had to hand him his breakfast. You entered the main room where Yoongi was working and dropped his off. He thanked you and immediately went back to work. You were kinda disappointed, you had hoped Yoongi would give Jungkook’s breakfast to him but that was unrealistic so you guessed that now you would have to face a painful and awkward situation. After taking a deep breath you knocked on the door. You heard a muffled ‘come in’ and you stepped into the room. To say you felt awkward was an understatement. You wanted nothing more to crawl into a hole and die. 

There was a female customer on the tattoo chair with the top half of her body completely bare and sitting in only her panties. Jungkook was leaned over her tattooing her breast and stopped to look at you. There was a warmth rising to your face as you just stood there and stared at them for a moment. 

“What do you want?” Jungkook asked annoyed. 

That snapped you out of your thoughts as you held up the bag shakily. “U-uh breakfast!” you might have said a little to loudly and then cursed yourself for it. 

“I-I’ll just leave it here.” you mumbled quickly and put the bag of food down on the desk. 

“Would you like anything?” you heard Jungkook ask the lady. 

She giggled, “If you don’t mind sharing.”

Your face twinged in disgust, luckily you had your back facing them. 

“Sure.” Jungkook replied shortly. 

“Could you go a little higher, like over here?” you heard the lady ask and when you turned around to leave you saw her guiding Jungkook’s hand across her bare body and something inside you just made you feel so hurt and so shitty. 

Jungkook’s eyes locked with yours. You immediately looked away and left the room. You couldn’t describe how you felt. This was Jungkook’s job, it was what he was passionate about, but you couldn’t stand to see people take advantage of that. He had just kissed you so passionately a week ago and of all days it was today that you had to bring him breakfast, and it was today that he had to have an appointment for a fucking breast tattoo. You groaned and muttered a string of curses as you walked back to your desk to eat your own breakfast. You chomped down on your egg McMuffin and got to work, hoping it would distract you from what you just saw. 

An hour later Jungkook emerged from his room with the lady and readied her bill. The cash register was just opposite from where you sat so you watched them closely. Jungkook smiled and thanked the lady and obviously she enjoyed that attention but you were relieved when she finally  left. Jungkook turned around to walk back into the room when he saw you watching him and his demeanor somersaulted upon looking at you. 

“What?” he snapped coldly and you jumped in your seat a little. 

You shook your head and looked back to the papers would were scribbling on, “N-Nothing.” you whispered. 

He went back to his studio as Yoongi came out of his to get more plastic wrap. 

“What’s up with you two?” he asked concerned. 

“It’s complicated.” you huffed. 

“I’ve never seen him that mad before.” 

Hearing that was like having an arrow shot into your heart. You were right, he really did hate you. 

“I-I..” you said with your voice breaking. 

Yoongi looked alarmed, shit, what should someone do if a girl cries?

“It’s all my fault.” you sniffled as tiny droplets fell across your cheeks. 

“Okay, no, nope. None of that. You are not crying, missy, you hear me? You are strong, and bold, and confident, and you aren’t crying over some stupid guy. Got that?”

You sniffled and wiped your tears away quickly and straightened up. 

“That’s it. y/n you walked into this store on your first day like a boss and you criticised us left and right and you put this place into shape. You’re freaking superwoman, okay? You shouldn’t be crying.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s unprofessional.” you mumbled.

Yoongi sighed and sat down next to you. “Don’t be sorry. And we’re friends, there’s no need to be professional around me.”

“We are?” you asked smiling slightly through your watery eyes and puffy cheeks.

“Of course we are. And as your friend, I really suggest you talk to Jungkook.”

You shook your head, “But he’s scary.”

“Jungkook puts on a tough demeanor but he’s a kid at heart. He’d never do anything to harm you, you can count on that.” 

You nodded and smiled softly at him, “Thanks, Yoongi.”

“What are friends for, hm?”

________________________________________________________

Now you had a task at hand. Talk to Jungkook. You just had to talk to him. No big deal, it’s just talking. To Jungkook. Fuck, you had to talk to Jungkook. Slamming your pen down you ran your fingers through your hair and whined. It was about time you grew a pair but it wasn’t that easy. Time flew as you sat at your desk and pondered about what to say and when to say it. It drove you crazy. Until one fine moment, all your courage rose from the pit of your stomach and you stood up determined to talk to the guy. Just as you maneuvered around your table to go to him the bell chimed. Hot damn, who was that? 

This guy had a face sculpted by god himself. He was tall with brown hair, his wrists adorned with multiple strings and bracelets. His silver piercings shining under the store lights. The way he dressed really stood out to you, a beret on his head, sunglasses and patterned clothes, he really reminded you of a gucci model. He smiled at you as you walked over to him and you smiled back waving at him. 

“Hi, do you have an appointment?” you asked. 

He removed his sunglasses and wow he looked even better. 

“Oh no, I don’t. I’m actually here for the job? My name’s Kim Taehyung, I saw the sign outside.”

You had convinced Yoongi and Jungkook to finally place a “We are hiring” sign on the window because they could now afford it, plus, it would attract more attention. 

“Oh I see! So you’re a tattoo artist?” you asked interested. 

“Well, I’m hoping to be.” he said making the two of you giggle. 

“Well are you good?” you inquired. 

“Hmm, I would say I have a few things up my sleeve.”

You raised your eyebrows, “Really? Well let’s hope you impress us.”

“I hope that I shall.”

The two of you laughed together again, man you really liked this guy.

“What’s going on here?” you heard a deep voice. Jungkook appeared from his room and scowled at the two of you laughing together. 

“Oh, t-this is is Kim Taehyung, he’s here for the job.”

Taehyung reached out to shake Jungkook’s hand but he left him hanging. 

“Another case of y/n, hm? That’s not too good.”

You gaped at him and you were about to retort when Yoongi joined in. 

“Ah, you must be Taehyung.” Yoongi said smiling. 

Taehyung finally felt comfortable seeing a familiar face. “Yes, and you must be Yoongi hyung. Nice to finally meet you.”

“Pleasure’s mine. A friend of mine knew Taehyung in art school and he recommended him to me. Let’s see if you’re as good as Seokjin claims you are.” Yoongi said. 

Taehyung laughed, “I promise to do my best.”

So that led to the current situation. The three of you huddled around Taehyung watching him work on a piece. He had gotten one of his friends to demonstrate the piece for him who’s name you learned was Jung Hoseok who was also pretty cute. You were questioning the odds of you being surrounded by attractive men all at one time wondering if the universe had something planned for you. But you ignored it to watch Taehyung working. One thing you’ve noticed since working here is that every tattoo artist has their own unique style. They were all different, yet all so incredible. Taehyung had the same amount of focus and concentration Jungkook always had when he was working. Yoongi was always more relaxed, his talent flowing from him naturally. However, Taehyung could perfect designs neither Yoongi or Jungkook had ever done before. 

The buzzing stopped and Taehyung stepped back to review his work. Everyone was in awe, he did a really great job and Yoongi loved it so much that he asked Taehyung if he could post it on their shop’s Instagram. 

“That depends,” Taehyung said, “Are you going to hire me?”

Yoongi chuckled, “Need I say any more? y/n, what do you think?”

You smiled, “I think he’s great.”

“What do you know about tattoos?” Jungkook snapped. 

You looked at him angrily and he ignored your stare. 

“For a tattoo artist it’s surprising you don’t have any tattoos.” Jungkook questioned. 

Taehyung frowned, “Do I need to have them?”

Jungkook looked slightly dumbfounded with everyone staring at him. “No-I mean, it’s just surprising-”

“Yeah it is.” Taehyung ended the conversation abruptly. 

Jungkook rolled his eyes and looked away. 

“It’ll be great if you could start today. We have a customer coming in anytime now.” Yoongi said. 

“But he’s scheduled for me.” Jungkook spoke up unhappy.

“You can take the 3 o’ clock, Jungkook.” Yoongi dismissed. 

Jungkook licked his lips, obviously irritated by Yoongi’s decision. 

“I never got your name?” Taehyung turned to ask you. 

“Oh, it’s y/n!” you smiled. 

“It’s great to meet you. I have a feeling we’ll be getting along pretty well.” Taehyung grinned. 

You blushed slightly because how could you not when this insanely attractive man was outright flirting with you. 

“Your 3 o’ clock is here, get to work.” Jungkook snapped at him. 

“Right, I’m on it.” Taehyung cleared his throat. 

_____________________________________________________

Taehyung blended in pretty well. He was no doubt good at his job, a lot of customers end up super happy with what they get and so Taehyung was really good for the store. The two of you also got along great, he was like your new best friend. He would come over and talk to you between breaks and he’d send you a lot of memes which kept you happy and entertained throughout the day. One time he brought a pack of cards to work and once you guys were done for the day you played Snap while eating dinner, which was a terrible idea because Taehyung kept hitting your hand real hard and one time he spilled his entire bowl of soup and himself and started to yell because it was hot and man did you laugh until you couldn’t breathe. Obviously, Yoongi and Jungkook were there to witness all this because you guys always spent meal times together. Yoongi would usually ignore the two of you and go on his phone, and you’d call him a grandpa for not wanting to play card games. Jungkook was reserved, also on his phone but he would glance over to the two of you from time to time. 

It was another night at the shop and it was nearly opening time so you were at your desk drafting statements and also counting the money from yesterday’s earnings. Jungkook was on his beanbag sipping some banana milk and sketching on his notepad as usual and Taehyung was next to you helping you separate the bills. 

“I’m really curious as to how you got a job here.” he asked you. 

You scoffed, “Why, can’t a woman get a job in a tattoo parlor? Just because it’s a sausage fest in here, I can’t be a part of it because I don’t have my own sausage?”

Taehyung laughed heartily and you smiled, giggling to yourself. 

“You know what I mean.” he urged. 

“I just came in one day and asked. At first they said no, and then I made them a deal they couldn’t refuse.”

“Why would they say no? You’re great at what you do.”

You smiled, “Thanks, Tae. But the shop wasn’t like this back then, they couldn’t afford me.”

“Hmm, but you did so well at university. You could have had many other options, why here?”

“Well, I saw two guys desperately trying to make their dreams come true and you know, I just wanted to help them.” you said smiling softly. You remembered all the fond memories you hard building up this place with them. They were priceless. 

Jungkook could hear everything the two of you were saying, he felt a pang in his heart when he heard how all you wanted to do was help them, and he had been nothing but mean and rude to you from the very beginning. 

“That and, well, I needed to start earning something. My parents have gotten pretty old. Mum is really sick and dad spends all his time taking care of her. Before that, they used to own that bakery across the street.”

“Wait, you mean Rosie’s bakery? Like...the pretty fucking amazing one?”

You laughed, “I guess you can say that.”

“I used to go there when I was a kid, it’s been around for so long. It’s such a shame it got closed down. I’m really sorry about your mother too, by the way,” he said sympathetically. 

“No that’s okay. She’s still around, I thank the heavens that I get to see her for just one more day. They wanted me to take over, but I could never do all that by myself.”

“Why not? I’m sure you could.”

You shook your head, “I never want to let them down, you know? That bakery was like their baby, I didn’t want to step in and ruin it. Some things just eventually come to an end.”

“I understand.” he nodded, “But you’re here now though, things worked out, right? Look at how lucky you got, you now have a Taehyung in your life!” 

You grabbed a book and smacked him across the shoulder with it and he yelped, but laughed along with you after. The bells chimed and the first customer came in, Taehyung left to work on them so it was just you and Jungkook in the room. As you picked up your pen to work again a voice made you halt.

“I’m sorry.”

You looked up at him in shock and confusion. Why was he talking to you all of a sudden?

“What?” you asked confused. 

He sighed and put his sketchbook down and walked over to you. He sat on the chair next to you and all you could do was watch him.

“I’m sorry I’ve been such a dick to you since day one. There’s really no excuse for that, I’m really sorry.” he said looking at you. 

“Jungkook...” you trailed off.

“Yoongi and I worked really hard to get here, like really, really hard. There were days we never got to eat, nor did we have a roof over our heads. Despite all that we always had each other, and we had each other’s backs. When we finally opened our shop, I was beyond excited. Even with that shitty sign outside that we got rid of, this shop was still a great achievement. When you showed up, I just...felt threatened? It was stupid, I don’t know what I was thinking. I just felt like someone might screw this up for us or that all of this might go away and that was so terrifying for me. I realise now that you genuinely wanted to help us even though I was an asshole, and I just owe you the biggest thanks ever y/n because you played a huge part in making my dream come true. Instead of thanking you and showing you my appreciation all I did was yell at you and piss you off and I just, god, I hate myself for it. I’m really sorry. I just want you to know that I appreciate you, and so does Yoongi. We owe it all to you.”

For the past month Jungkook never said more than two words to you, but now he was giving you a whole ass speech? Man, here comes the waterworks. 

“Shit, y/n, are you-oh god please don’t cry.”

“I’m sorry,” you cried out. “I’m sorry, I’ll stop, I’ll stop I just,” you inhaled, “I can’t stop.” you sobbed. 

Jungkook pulled you to his chest and you immediately wrapped your arms around him. He murmured reassuring words, telling you that it was okay while he rubbed your back softly. You pulled away embarrassed and tried to hide your face as you wiped off tears messily and sniffled. God, you must look so horrible right now.

“Sorry I-” you sniffled, “I’m fine now. I’m fine.” you heaved. 

“You sure?” he asked. 

You nodded and smiled at him, making him smile back. 

“I uh-” you started, “I’m sorry too. I’m sorry for making you feel insecure, and no it’s not stupid, your feelings are absolutely valid, Jungkook. I just had no idea I made you feel that way, it must have been bad for you, I’m so sorry. And I forgive you, thank you for saying all that but, it’s not me who made all this happen. It’s you, and Yoongi. The both of you are so talented, I’ve seen how you work too. Jungkook you’re incredible, okay? Like, yeah I don’t know anything about tattoos but I know a pretty thing when I see it and your work just blows me away and you should be so proud of that. That’s what brought you here, not me.” you said.

Jungkook nodded and looked at you fondly, “Thank you for saying that.”

“And uh...when you walked in that day-”

“It’s fine.” you cut him off feeling embarrassed and not wanting to talk about it. 

“No y/n, it didn’t mean anything, okay? I saw how hurt you looked and I felt really bad.”

You shook your head, “Jungkook you have nothing to feel bad about. It’s your job, I was wrong to be upset anyway.”

“You don’t have to be jealous.” he chuckled. 

You groaned, “She was blatantly flirting with you!”

“And I ignored her. Plus, I didn’t share my food with her.”

“You didn’t?” you asked hopefully.

“No, I didn’t.” he chuckled, making you grin. 

You bit your lip and nodded back at him. “And, you know, what happened that day...”

His eyes widened and he took your hands in his, “I’m really sorry. I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have done that, I made you feel uncomfortable and I still hate myself for doing that to you until this day...” he said apologetically. 

“No it’s fine, I shouldn’t have ran off like that, it was so stupid of me.” you shook your head. 

“I thought I scared you.” he said with so much guilt in his tone. 

“Jungkook,” you whispered. You laced your hands with his firmly, “You didn’t. Not at all, I was just surprised and I didn’t know how to react. I must have hurt you, I’m sorry. I just want you to know that I really like you and...yeah.” you said shyly. 

Jungkook had a small smile on his lips, “You do?”

“Mhm.” you said looking away. 

That smile turned into a smirk, “So I was right, y/n did have a crush.”

You rolled your eyes at him, “It’s gonna fade if you keep at it.”

“Alright alright, I’ll stop teasing. I like you a lot too, y/n.” he said looking right into your eyes. His confidence was admirable. 

“You could have been nicer you know? You wouldn’t stop sending me daggers through your stares and I even got you banana milk so you’d warm up to me but that was just weird, so then I didn’t know what to-mmpmh.” 

And there it was again. Those soft lips against yours, his hands cupping your cheeks. Your hands moved to his hair to bring him closer as he pressed his lips against yours, occasionally pulling away only to dive back in again. His hands moved to your waist and pulled you on top of him. You finally felt all that muscle on him through his shirt, he really was as ripped as you imagined him to be. He poked his tongue softly past your lips and you let him in. 

“Always...wanna...kiss you.” he said in between kisses.

You sighed and let out small noises of pleasure, grasping on his locks. 

“So pretty.” he mumbled as he pulled away and moved to your neck, planting wet kisses there. 

You moaned when he bit down on the flesh of your neck, which made him sigh heavily. 

“You sound exactly like I pictured you would. So needy.” he growled. 

“Jungkook.” you said breathlessly.

“Hmm?” he hummed as he continued to mark you. 

“W-we really shouldn’t-ah-be doing this here.” you squeaked. 

Just then his lips met your sweet spot and you could help but let that loud moan ripple through you, catching Jungkook by surprise. 

“Fuck, you even sound pretty.” He continued to abuse the skin of your neck with his teeth and tongue until he finally pulled away to look at you. 

Your face was flushed, eyes hazy and lips swollen. Jungkook tucked your hair behind your ears and rested his forehead on yours. He placed another soft kiss on your lips, making you smile. Your hands remained around his neck and you fidgeted for a bit before asking him. 

“Jungkook?”

“Yes, princess?”

“I said that we shouldn’t be doing this here.” you said biting your lip. 

He looked taken back at your sudden boldness and smirked at you. 

“Are you saying you want me to have you over my chair in my studio?”

“Yes that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

_______________________________________________________

“Yoongi hyung?” Taehyung asked with his lips pressed together.

“Yeah?”

“Are they-”

“Yeah.”

_______________________________________________________

Business was picking up yet again, and to celebrate the anniversary of the shop’s opening, Yoongi decided to throw a small party at his and Jungkook’s shared apartment. Taehyung promised to get the alcohol and dragged Jungkook with him. Yoongi was spending the day cleaning the apartment and grumbling about how Jungkook is gross and never keeps the place clean. Yoongi was also inviting his other friends Seokjin, Namjoon, Jimin and Hoseok. They apparently graduated art school together and were some of his best buds. Jungkook knew them too, and he had introduced you to all of them. You were pretty close to Seokjin since he just has an incredibly friendly nature and he’s always cracking lame jokes which you can’t help but find funny. So it was your job to get the food for the party and Seokjin was told to go with you. 

“y/n there’s soju!” he called loudly in the supermarket where literally everyone can hear him. 

“I told you, Taehyung’s in charge of the booze, he probably already got some!”

“But he doesn’t know the good kind, like I do! Pleaseee, look there’s like 8 different flavours.”

“Seokjin.” you huffed. 

“Okay fine, but if this party’s lame I blame you.”

“Why am I even friends with you, dork.” you grumbled.

Seokjin helped you reach the foods on the higher shelves and you were grateful for that. He also paid, another reason you became extra nice to him. It was already late in the evening and you guys had to get back and get ready for the party. You lugged the huge bags of snacks through the corridors, these guys really did eat a lot. Seokjin rang the bell and after a while Jungkook answered the door. 

“You guys eat like pigs.” Seokjin huffed as he carried the huge bags of food. 

“Hyung’s the one who goes through all the chips!” Jungkook retorted. 

“Do you hear how he speaks to me?” Seokjin complained to Namjoon. 

You giggled at them and moved to enter when Jungkook blocked your way. 

“Nu-uh.” he said smirking.

“Move your fat ass out of the way, these are heavy.” you huffed. 

“Okay, first of all, rude. Second of all, kiss first.” he demanded puckering his lips. 

“Gross, who would wanna kiss you?” you said fake disgusted. 

“y/n!” he cried like a child. 

You laughed and dropped the bags on the floor and stood on your tippy-toes to kiss him. He smiled into the kiss and wrapped an arm around your torso keeping you pressed against him. You pulled away and nuzzled your nose against his. 

“Can I come in now?”

He caught your lips with his again and bit on your bottom lip. You moaned softly making him inhale sharply. 

“Guys, can you not do it at the damn doorstep?!” you heard Seokjin yell.

Jungkook and you laughed and he moved to carry the bags in being the strong man that he is. Later that night all of you huddled in front of the TV with blankets and more snacks. Most of them were passed out due to the high consumption of alcohol. You and Jungkook were still awake, and he was playing with the hem of your shirt while placing soft kisses on your collarbone. You ran your fingers through his hair and sighed at the feeling of his lips on your skin. 

“You smell good.” he mumbled, pressing more kisses on your neck. 

You only smiled and let him continue. 

“Wonder if you taste good too.” he said casually.

Heat rushed to your cheeks and you smacked his arm softly. 

“You would already know that.” you played along. 

“Hm, yeah I do.” he smirked making you look away embarrassed.

He turned your head to face him by cupping your cheek. 

“y/n” he murmured against your lips. 

“Yeah?” you whispered.

“Wanna taste you.” was all he said before his lips touched yours again and your mind went into a frenzy. 

I’m just gonna say that the guys were lucky to have been knocked out that night. There were some pretty scandalous things happening in Jungkook’s bedroom. 

_______________________________________________________

the end! wow this took me the entire day to write but it was totally worth it. who else is whipped for kook? :”)

also stream dynamite! love u guys <3

[pterodactylterrace]

Title: Guys Like You

Chapter: 3

Chapter Summary: You’re late for tea

Rating: 18+ for later chapters

Warning: Possible swear words, dirty thoughts, nudity

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Friday had been a strange day for Faye.  First, Henry wasn't on set. It took an embarrassingly long time for her to remember being told he had a few days off of filming.

Then, Mrs. Anderson sent her a strange series of texts asking about him. Sure, Faye had mentioned him a few times. Also, Briar was constantly going on about the man with the fluffy dog, so it made some sort of sense that she would ask about him. Not to mention Mrs. Anderson was always trying to find her a 'nice young man' to settle down with, so fixating on the one man she had mentioned wasn't that odd in retrospect.

Then, as she was pulling her beat up car into her driveway, she noticed an unfamiliar, shiny vehicle already parked outside. Maybe that was the new car Mr. Anderson had been dying for? Why would he park at her house instead of in his own drive a few doors down, though? Was it a surprise for Mrs. Anderson?

Now, she was walking into her house only to be greeted by a very excited, very large fluffball at the door.

"Kal?" That was definitely Kal. He was the only black and white Akita she knew with the habit of knocking his rear into her leg for attention, although his getup was rather strange. Why was Henry's dog in her house, and why was he wearing fairy wings, her daughter's dress up fairy tutu and at least a dozen mardi gras necklaces? Also, the floppy sun hat on his head was a nice touch. He seemed to enjoy having it on as well. That, or it was tied on too well for him to get off.

The dog's attire should have prepared her for when she looked into the living room. There sat Mrs. Anderson, her sun hat on along with one of Briar's scarfs and glow in the dark glasses perched above her regular seeing glasses. Next to her was Briar, her full fairy princess costume on, complete with wings, crown and a scepter, pouring pretend tea into the strangest guest's cup.

There sat Henry Cavill, cross legged on her living room floor, tiny plastic tea cup in his massive hand. On his head was perched a plastic crown, a feather boa wrapped around his thick neck, and if the sparkles were anything to go by, Briar had attacked him with her glitter body spray.

"Mommy!" Briar gasped, dropping her plastic tea pot and racing over to her mother, wrapping her arms around her legs.

"Hi, sweetie. What's going on?" Faye asked cautiously.

"You're late for tea." Henry replied, taking a pretend sip from his cup.

"I hope it's alright, dear. You did say he was a friend, and Briar seemed so fond of his dog, I didn't have the heart to turn him away." Mrs. Anderson explained.

"Uhh... yeah, it's fine." Faye mumbled, still taking in the sight before her, Kal and Briar rejoining the tea party as though nothing was out of the ordinary.

"My mistake. I thought we agreed on Friday." Henry apologized, pushing himself up. "We've only been here a little while. We can leave if you'd like."

"Oh, no. That's ok." Faye assured, finally setting her bag down, hastily turning over her sketch pad on the entrance table. Some things weren't meant for anyone other herself to see.

"I'll just be heading off then, Miss Warren." Mrs. Anderson excused herself, taking off her borrowed accessories and gathering her things. "You all have fun."

"So, uhh... how... how long have you been here?" Faye asked once she closed the door behind the older woman, quickly scanning the room to make sure nothing difficult to explain was in plain sight.

"Not long." Henry assured, sitting back down at Briar's insistent tugging, folding his long muscular legs back up as he settled on the floor in front of the coffee table.

"More tea!" Briar demanded, holding the cup up to his mouth, prompting him to take another pretend sip.

"You make wonderful tea, miss." Henry complimented, Briar preening in response.

"Mommy, you want tea?" Briar asked, a wide yawn cracking her little face.

"I would love some, sweetheart, but it's time for your nap." Faye pointed out.

"No! I wanna play tea!" Briar whined, plopping back on her backside in a pout.

"Briar." Faye warned, raising a brow at her.

"But... but... tea party!" Briar insisted.

"We can play more tea party after your nap. You're getting grumpy."

"No I'm not!" Briar insisted, her chubby face drawn into a scowl.

"That was grump right there." Faye pointed out, gently scooping up her cranky daughter. "Now let's go lay you down for a nap, and then we can play more tea party when you wake up."

"I don't wanna nap!" Briar yawned, rubbing her hazel eyes in an attempt to stay awake.

"You need one."

"I don't wanna nap, I'm tired!"

"Sound logic, my love." Faye sighed, settling her daughter into her bed, tucking her in with her favorite stuffed unicorn. The little girl was asleep before Faye even reached the door, curled up around her stuffie with her little tush up in the air.

"Sorry you had to see that. She really hates going down for a nap when she's having fun."

"Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to get her wound up." Henry apologized, removing the plastic crown from his head.

"Don't worry about it, she's just happy to have more guests at her tea party." Faye assured, picking up the plastic dishes and putting them back in the toy box.

"She was quite insistent we join, though I do think Kal enjoyed getting dressed up." Henry chuckled, beginning to remove the dog's costume.

"Good thing you agreed, otherwise you would have faced the wrath of Briar." Faye giggled, noticing the unicorn and rainbow stickers all over Henry's back.

"It was a pleasure attending her party. She is quite a wonderful host." Henry laughed, stowing the costumes back in the toy box. "Now, I do believe you requested help with a cake for our little party host."

"Yes, right this way." Faye waved, heading off to her tiny eat in kitchen. "What do we need?"

"Well... you have an oven, so that's a start. I brought the ingredients with me. Do you happen to have a cake pan?" Henry listed, opening the fridge and removing the bag he'd brought along.

"I have a glass baking pan." Faye offered.

"We will work with that." Henry agreed. "Now, measuring cups?"

"They are around here somewhere."

"Do you know how to use them?" Henry teased, setting the ingredients from the bag onto the counter.

"Vaguely. I just usually eyeball everything when I cook." Faye admitted.

"That won't work with baking. It's a science and the measurements have to be exact." Henry explained. "So, we'll start with the dry ingredients. Can you measure out two cups of flour?"

"I have no idea where the cup is. I have half a cup."

"Four of those, then." Henry absently mumbled, scanning over his mother's recipe card again. He glanced over to see her attacking the bag of flour with the measuring cup, wincing to himself as he watched. "Faye?"

"Mmhmm?"

"Forgive me for asking, but do you know how to measure flour?" Henry asked, cringing when she tried to smooth the top down with her hand, causing a flour explosion in her face.

"I'm guessing what I just did wasn't right."

"Not quite." Henry chuckled, stepping behind her, taking her hand in his and dumping the flour back into the bag. "You can use a spoon to sift it. Packed flour and unpacked flour are two totally different measurements." He explained, handing her a spoon and taking her other hand in his, showing her how to sift the flour into the measuring cup.

Faye tried to keep her cool and ignore the fact that Henry Cavill was pressed up behind her, holding her hands and showing her how to measure flour like it was the most natural thing in the world. Surely this was just some dream and if it was, no one had better wake her up.

"Got it?" Henry asked, turning his head to look at her, snapping her from her thoughts. Faye did her best not to stare at his lips, so close and yet so far away. She could just lean in...

"Yeah, got it." She quickly confirmed, forcing her attention back to the task at hand.

And so it went, Henry leading the way through the mysterious land of baking, Faye following blindly behind. He even let her lick the spoon when he was done with it, and he in no way stared in awe at the way her tongue moved around it. He was a gentleman, after all, and imagining what else that tongue could do would be highly inappropriate.

It wasn't until after the cake had been pulled from the oven to cool that Briar woke up, wandering into the kitchen with her now disheveled princess costume still on, her hair sticking out in strange angles as she rubbed her eyes.

"You're here!" Briar gasped, taking notice of the giant in the room and scurrying over to him, throwing her arms around his legs.

"Nice to know where I stand." Faye pouted as Henry scooped the girl up, her daughter not even glancing her way in favor of talking to Henry.

"Can we play dollies?" Briar asked, batting her thick dark lashes at him, her chubby lip sticking out in a pout.

"I've never played before, you'll have to show me how." Henry agreed, smiling down at the little girl held securely in his arm.

"Mommy, you look silly!" Briar giggled, finally looking over at her mother.

"That's not nice." Faye gently scolded.

"What on your face?" Briar asked.

"Mommy had an incident with the flour." Henry explained. Shit. Had she really spent the last hour, practically drooling over her guest with flour all over her face? She really should write a book on how to flirt. No doubt, it would be a best seller.

"I'm gonna go get cleaned up." Faye mumbled, her face heating up beneath the flour coating as she ducked her head and beelined down the hall.

"I'll be learning how to play dolls." Henry chuckled after her, carrying the toddler back to the living room so her mother could shower in peace.

Fifteen minutes later, Briar was still explaining the different names of her dolls and stuffed animals, piling each on top of Henry and resorting to stuffing them under Kal's paws when she ran out of room on her semi-willing captive. Faye cracked the bathroom door open and glanced to the living room to make sure her guest was thoroughly distracted before she slipped out of the bathroom, towel wrapped tightly around herself as she snuck down the hall to her bedroom, breathing a sigh of relief when she closed the door behind herself. She could almost convince herself he was interested in her with the couple times she'd caught him looking her way when he thought she wouldn't notice. No need to scare him off with her mom-bod now.

Sure, it hadn't been that hard on her figure. She wasn't left with the same saggy stomach her mother had after her pregnancies, but then again, her mother had carried two sets of twins almost to term. Talk about a superwoman. Though she did decide no more children after her younger brother and sister had been born.

"You keep giving me a two for one deal, I'm not doing this again!"

Good times. Good times. The wonders of having twins running strongly in your family. Faye had only given birth to one, but she still bore the stretch marks on her stomach and breasts, and the loose skin on her stomach had never really gone back to the way it was before.

Faye was shaken from her thoughts by her daughter's all too familiar exclamation coming from behind her. "Mommy, you're nakie!" She would never understand her daughter's near obsession with pointing out the fact that she was in fact, naked during and directly after showers, but it was without a doubt one of her favorite hobbies. Right behind tea parties if she had to guess.

"Wait, what? Oh!" That was not her daughter's voice. Faye's head snapped up to find Briar's chubby hand wrapped tightly around Henry's little finger, his other hand clapped firmly over his eyes. "I am so sorry! She wanted to get her stuffed dragon, I did not know this was your room!"

Faye snatched her towel off the bed and wrapped it around herself again, grabbing the dragon from the pillow and handing it off to Briar. The little girl happily took her dragon and led Henry back down the hall, not bothering with the door. The wonders of being young and innocent. She had no clue what she had just done.

Faye quickly shut the door herself, remembering to turn the lock this time, though it was a moot point by then. She threw on a tank top, leggings and her fluffy socks before forcing herself to venture back out. Henry was actually sitting on the couch this time, doing his best to focus on what the little girl was saying, though truth be told, his mind kept wandering back to the quick glimpse he had gotten of Faye's backside before he registered what was going on. It was even better than the glances he had gotten when she bent over in front of him to rummage through her make up bag. Nice and round, plump yet firm. The kind of ass you just want to squeeze as you're-

"So... " Faye started awkwardly, quickly breaking Henry out of his own head. "Lunch sound good?"

"Chocolate sandwiches!" Briar quickly suggested, hugging her stuffed bunny to her chest as she bounced around.

"It looks like I'm making chocolate sandwiches, though I could probably also manage a peanut butter and jelly."

"I wouldn't want to impose, though I did want to apologize again-"

"Accident's happen, but we are going to pretend that one didn't, ok?" Faye interjected. "So nutella or peanut butter and jelly?"

"Umm... either is fine."

"Briar, keep them company while mommy makes lunch, ok?" Faye suggested, going back to the kitchen before her false confidence faded. If he was on board with repressing and denying, so was she.

Now, only one questioned remained: Would Henry prefer his sandwiches cut into dinosaurs or puzzle pieces?

[yeochikin]

sick days. | j. yunho

a/n: phew i finally did it! this is a sequel to this fic but this can also be read as its own too! i won’t lie, i had so much trouble writing this. the amount of times i typed then erased then typed over and over again was a huge struggle for me in the past week, so i understand if this fic seemed a little... blegh ;;;; writer’s block sucks but it’s alright, i enjoyed writing it anyway hehe hope you enjoyed this. do excuse any mistakes as this has not been proofread ✨💖

word count: 3k+

main focus: yunho x fem. reader

warning(s): none, i think!

“tell me i'm hot.” 

“yeah, you're hot, yunho.”

“aye.”

“you have a fever.”

“aye?”

“say ‘aye’ one more time, and i’m gonna stab you with my paintbrush.”

“aye!”

your eye twitched at his answer, showing him the temperature you had taken for him. the boy in question, who was currently laid all tucked in bed with a wet cloth on his forehead, merely gave you a bright smile despite his face looking all flushed. sometimes, you wondered whether your roommate was literally a golden retriever in his past life who got reincarnated into a human, but still somehow having the energetic personality following his next life.

“little rose, you're gonna catch my fever too. i can take care of myself.” he protested, watching as you gathered the empty ceramic bowl that was previously filled with yunho's favourite soup, mentally thanking seonghwa in your head for the recipe he gave earlier, promptly placing it onto the wooden tray you left on his bedside drawer.

“pup, you know i have a stronger immune system between the two of us. i'll be fine.” you retorted, causing the sick boy to jut his lower lip out into a little sulky pout.

“you're lucky you're cute, pup.” you grumbled, moving the cloth away to feel at his forehead, the playful glare in your eyes melting into a soft gaze. you couldn’t stay mad at him, even if you tried. luckily, his skin wasn't burning as much as before, though the pinkness in his cheeks were still present.

everything seemed like a blur today. all he remembered was trying to get up from the bed but for some reason, yunho felt as if someone had dumped a huge pile of bricks on top of his body while someone kept hitting his head with a hammer. he was lucky that you came into his room to wake him up as soon as his best friend, mingi, called you up to ask where the peachy haired boy was since he couldn't reach him for some reason. that's when you know something was up.

of course, panic started to fill your entire being as soon as you saw how flushed his cheeks looked upon entering the room, along with him shivering underneath his blanket. you immediately went to his side as you phoned your other friends to tell them what was happening. it didn't take long for yunho to be dragged away from the bed by mingi, and jongho (mainly jongho) just so seonghwa could drive them to the doctor's, despite yunho mumbling that he's fine to which he was absolutely not fine at all.

you were thankful that it wasn't that serious, but nevertheless, yunho still received an earful of scolding from you for not taking care of himself more, as if seonghwa’s nagging wasn't enough. 

so now here he is, laying still on the bed as his eyes blinked slowly before his lips lazily curled up into a grin towards you once he felt your palm resting against his forehead. the dazed look in his eyes was already a sign of the medicine he took earlier slowly kicking in. noticing how droopy his eyes were, you made sure the blankets were properly tucked on him. 

“rest, pup. by the time you wake up, it will be when i wake you up for dinner so you can take your meds.” you hushed him, sitting down on the edge of his bed.

poor boy only grunted in response, finally giving up to force his eyes open, letting sleep take over him. you had decided to linger a little longer in the room, just until you were completely sure that the taller male was finally getting that much needed rest. sighing to yourself, your lithe fingers gingerly moved away some of the stray strands that managed to cover most of his eyes. your expression softens at the way his lips parted ever so slightly, chest heaving up and down in an even pace, adoring the way he looked so serene. with quick yet quiet movements so as to not wake the male up, you picked up the wooden tray, and crept up on your tiptoes towards the door. 

you let your body drop onto the couch in your small living room, an arm over your forehead as your eyes stared up at the ceiling. the room was filled with silence that if someone were to drop a pin, it would have created a loud noise. the silence… it was almost a little too eerie for you. normally, it would have been filled with the sounds of you and yunho discussing your assignments as if one could give the other an inspiration to do so. it was when you turned your head to the coffee table that you saw something on the coffee table. 

it was your sketchbook. 

the object sitting idly on the table made you recall a particular conversation you had with yunho a couple of night’s ago.

“what are you up to, little rose?”

yunho’s voice effectively made you look up from your sketchbook, the page though seemingly empty, it was a tad crumpled from your many attempts of sketching, doodling, and the many amounts of erasing. the peachy haired boy made his way from the kitchen overlooking the living room to sit down right next to you with two mugs of what seems to be coffee in both hands, handing one of them to you.

sending him a defeated smile along with a low mumble of appreciation, carefully lifting the mug up to your lips to take a small sip of the drink. as if almost immediately, the bittersweet taste of the drink washed over your tastebuds, warmth being sent throughout your entire being. clearly, nothing can really beat coffee whenever you were in a stumped position. 

“professor kim wanted us to draw something yesterday.” you finally answered, momentarily pausing to take another sip of the coffee, the boy next to you putting an arm on the couch behind your head while his other hand held onto his mug, listening to you intently.

“he mentioned that he wanted something that.. makes our chests swell with a warm feeling that you feel in your chest whenever you look at your own drawing?” you mumbled, furrowing your eyebrows as you set your gaze onto the blank sketchpad that was laid idly on your lap, lips pursing in deep thought.

“well, surely you must have felt the feeling before, don’t you?” yunho asked, reaching out to place his mug on top of the coffee table in front of where the two of you were seated at.

“i..” you started but somehow, the words died off in your throat. 

you wanted to answer ‘yes, of course i have!’.

you wanted to say, ‘everything makes me feel that way too!’

but..

..you had come to the realisation that you had never felt such a feeling in your life before. but, wasn’t that the same thing as happiness? if that was the case, then everything would’ve been ‘a warm feeling’ to you.  

yunho, who seemed to notice you being in your usual thinking bubble again, merely smiled to himself. from the couple of years being your roommate, and dare he say, your best friend, he had picked up all of your habits, and actions. from the way you would rub your nose due to being flustered, or how you would pick at your lips whenever you felt nervous - to which, he tried to make you stop by giving you a small keychain with a stress ball attached to it, fortunately making you squeeze it instead of picking your lips again - yunho could read you like an open book most of the time. 

though of course, he would have to admit, it is when you seem predictable would be the time where you would be sprouting up something so.. unpredictable. the memory of you pulling a sudden all nighter because of a sudden inspiration from watching a movie would always make you look so endearing in the male’s eyes. it was when your eyes meeting his own was what made yunho flinch ever so slightly in his seat out of surprise. 

“tell me, pup. have you ever felt such a feeling before?” you asked, curiosity evident in your bright eyes. 

your question was to be expected, making yunho’s features soften at you. folding his arms in front of his chest, his back leaned further into the couch as he hummed underneath his breath in thought. the happiness that managed to make him freeze in place, huh? it took him a moment, but eventually, he nodded his head. 

“i have, little rose.” he responded.

“and what was it, if you don’t mind sharing.” you inquired, shifting in your place to sit criss-cross as you turned to face the male next to you.

yunho could only stare at your face, slightly caught off guard upon hearing your sudden interest. he couldn’t help but to release an amused laugh at the way you leaned in ever so slightly, reaching a hand out to playfully ruffle your hair.

“it may sound a little ridiculous. but it was when you threw that birthday party for me last year.” he mentioned, only to feel an amused chortle threatening to leave his lips upon seeing the confused look painted over your face, as if waiting for the peachy haired boy to explain what he meant. 

“you baked a cake for me, no?” the corners of his lips quirked up as soon as realisation seemed to hit you. you did bake a cake for him. but really, it wasn’t that special so made him pick that certain day of all days? before you could even ask, however, yunho already beat you to it by giving out his own answer.

“no one has ever baked a cake for me before, it was either bought from our local bakery in town or none at all. but something about a homemade one.. you can feel the effort and so much love from someone who had taken their time in doing so.” yunho trailed off, eyes somehow shining with an unknown sparkle in them as soon as they landed on your own. 

“and i have you to thank for, little rose.” he continued, fingers gingerly curling the stray strand of hair behind your ear.

you swear you could feel your heart increase its pace, feeling as if it was about to burst out of your chest. your cheeks felt warm due to the feeling of your blood rushing up to them, a hand quickly reaching up to rub your nose before tearing your gaze away from yunho’s warm one. 

you didn’t need any more explanation. you had found your inspiration.

a fond smile curled itself over your tiers at the memory before deciding to stand up as you made your way to your room, grabbing the sketchbook with you along the way. you have a drawing to finish.

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

a small creak from a door being opened resonated throughout the small hallway of the house, along with heavy footsteps, and the sound of a deep yawn mingled in the air. yunho rubbed his eyes as he made his way into the living room. his eyes were still heavy with traces of sleep lingered in them before looking over to the wall clock idly hanging on the wall, wanting to know how many hours had passed after he fell asleep earlier. judging by how dark it was outside, it was already night time, or maybe even midnight. with how long he slept, it was possible he slept the whole day away.

although slowly, yunho was thankful that the medicine seemed to make him recover considering how his head wasn’t throbbing painfully like before, though he still felt a little heavy but it wasn’t as bad as earlier. he could get up on his own, and that’s already enough for the tall male. 

“y/n?” the peachy haired boy called out, wandering around the house in search for you. 

it was when he reached the door to your room that he noticed the door was slightly ajar, along with a faint sound of what seemed like a song playing coming from the inside as well. his knuckles, gently knocked against the wooden surface before gently pushing the door a tad wider, just enough for yunho to peek in. 

and there you were. all hunched over your desk with your head on top of your folded arms, seeming to have fallen asleep with whatever you were doing earlier. as much as yunho wanted you to let you have you rest after busying yourself by helping him earlier during the day, he didn’t want you to have a sore neck and back due to the position you were in. he knew how much you would complain about the pain in the two regions afterwards but then doing it again, it was a never ending cycle that yunho was amused to see from the years of living with you. 

walking over to the desk with an intention of wanting to wake you up so you could properly lie down, the male noticed something right next to your head. it was your sketchbook. he walked up behind you, looking down at your sleeping figure. with how your pencil was loosely being held in between your dainty fingers along with a couple of crumpled up papers, mixed in with the other pencils in a variety of colours you had strewn all over the surface of your desk, yunho had made the conclusion that you were working on the assignment you had told him a couple of days ago. 

he was glad to know that you were finally getting started on it, knowing how much you would procrastinate until things were a little too late for you to do. but with how you managed to finish everything right on time despite having such little time left, would never cease to amaze him every time. 

with slow movements (clearly not wanting you to wake up all surprised and accidentally smack him in the face), yunho leaned over you to clear up your desk from all the clutter and coloured pencils around you, only then having a clear view of what you had drawn onto the sketchbook which caused his eyes to widen ever so slightly at the sight, pausing in his ministrations. 

his gaze was set on two drawn figures in what seems to be a bedroom, standing side by side with their faces facing each other, joyful smiles painted over their features, each having a paintbrush in hand. it looked like the two of them were enjoying their time together. but what had caught yunho’s eyes was one of the figures having the similar shade of peach as his hair colour, mirroring yunho’s own hair colour. it was when he saw the familiar details on the walls of the drawing that the peachy haired male noticed what, or rather, who the two figures were in the sketchbook.

“yunho?” a soft voice called out, grogginess laced in their tone as they spoke up which made the tall male flinch ever so slightly in place as he tore his gaze away from the drawing down to you. 

from his mind, he had already answered you calling out his name but in reality, he was staring down at your face. tilting your head up, eyes half-lidded from the sleepiness still apparent in your irises. it was when you looked down that you might have caught the gist of whatever has made him speechless. emitting a gasp out of realisation, your hands quickly covered the drawing, whining at him.

“y-you weren’t supposed to see that. i wasn’t d-”

“tell me, little rose. what do you see in me?” was his sudden question, effectively making your words die down in your throat. gulping thickly, your heartbeat was suddenly too loud in your ears. finally having the courage, your lips parted to answer the male’s question.

“i have found comfort in you.” you whispered, yunho’s eyes staring into your own nervous ones.

“i have found happiness whenever we spend time together.” you noted the way your faces were mere centimetres apart from each other.

“i have found the.. the warmth that made me feel at home.” his hands reached out for your hands, holding them in his much larger ones, feeling the pad of his thumbs caressing your knuckles.

“i have.. found myself falling for..” you murmured, yunho resting his forehead on top of your own, both of your eyes fluttering shut, and your noses touching against each other.

“i have found myself falling for you.” 

you were scared to open your eyes. you were scared that if you did, everything would have taken a completely different turn. you were scared that you would ruin the friendship the both of you have built together. you were scared to see the disgusted look on yunho’s face after the little confession. 

you were scared to lose yunho. 

however, those thoughts were completely thrown out of the window upon hearing the words being uttered by the male looming above you. 

“little rose, can i kiss you?” 

the question kept repeating itself in your mind. you wanted to say yes, you wanted to throw your arms around his neck, you wanted to scream out in relief. yet, not even a whisper came out. not trusting your voice, and the choice of words, you merely gave him a nod. to yunho, that was already enough for him. without wasting any more time, the taller male leaned in to press his lips against your own. yunho wasn’t sure if his fever was coming back or it was due to his heart pumping so fast that blood rushed to both of his cheeks. he wasn’t sure, but his face was undeniably warm. 

your smaller hand released one of the male’s bigger ones, reaching up to rest itself against his cheek while your lips moved against his own in sync. everything around you felt muted, the only thing you could hear was the beating of your heart like some type of drum. you never knew that a simple action could make you crave for more, but of course, the need for air was already screaming in the both of your minds that made you pull away from each other, albeit reluctantly.

yunho could faintly taste the sweetness that lingered over his lips as his eyes stared into yours in silence, his hand squeezing yours, before a gentle smile spread itself over his brims, you finding it contagious as you can’t help but to show him your own smile in return. deep down, he wanted to kiss you again, seemingly longing to feel them on his lips once again. so, he did just that. much to your surprise, of course you weren’t complaining.

you would be lying if you denied any more of his kisses. 

once the both of you pulled away for the second time, one specific thing popped into your mind, eyes widening in realisation which caused yunho to tilt his head ever so slightly to the side in question.

“if you get me sick, i swear.”

“hey, you said you have a strong immune system!”

“jeong yunho!” 

[bakulova]

Best-friend Or More?

Young!Carol Denning X Reader

This is Part One of 2 

Hope You Enjoy!

Sometimes you bring your sister to her little gymnastics things. Every time you do you always bring something to entertain yourself with. This time you were simply drawing and listening to music occasionally looking up seeing who was up only stopping when it was your sister, Charlie. After all the girls were done performing Charlie came up to you with a girl. “Y/n this is my friend Debbie.” Debbie looks at you shyly and gives you a small wave, you give a comforting smile “Hello” “ANYWAYS can she come over?” You shrug “ I don’t know. Did you ask her parents if she could?” Charlie shakes her head “Then that’s your answer” Charlie shrugs and Debbie laughs “Hold on my parents are here let me go ask!” Charlie nods quickly “hurry hurry!” they both giggle and Debbie runs away to her parents. When getting ready to leave you feel someone tap your shoulder and see Debbie and her family. “Oh Hi” the lady smiles “Hello I’m Alice and this is Ronnie” she gestures towards the man standing next to her, he smiles and you smile back not wanting to be rude. There are two other girls standing behind them both looking annoyed and bored. 

Alice introduces them “This is Barbara and this is Carol” Barb gives you a forced smile and while Carol just stares at you. You nod “Hello I’m Charlies sister, Y/n” “Oh my I thought you were her mom” said Ronnie. You force out a chuckle “Yeah I get that sometimes” “Where are your parents” You look at Charlie “They got caught up in work so I had to take charlie today” They nod “Sorry to do this but  we were wondering if these three could go with you? We kinda got to go see about Debbie’s transfer” You gulp and look at Charlie again and she’s grinning at you “Uh yeah sure” “Oh thank you a lot” Alice looks at Barb “We’ll be done at around 10 so just ask to get a drive home alright” Carol just rolls her eyes while Barb nods.  The two leave in a hurry leaving you to grab your backpack while giving Charlie a hoodie “Put this on so you don’t freeze” Charlie quickly pulls the hoodie on and starts talking with Debbie. Barb walks beside you “Hey can you drop me off at my boyfriends house?” You nod ‘anything to get rid of extra weight’.

 Carol has yet to request anything from you. Once getting to the car, you get in the drivers while Barb gets in the passenger, Carol sitting behind you and you sister sitting next to her and Debbie behind Barb. You start up the car and start asking Barb for directions. After dropping Barb off you quickly get home and tell the girls to go do whatever. Carol kinda just lurks around after you not knowing what to do. “Hey um... Carol do you have any homework to do?” She shakes her head. You nod “If you want you can grab a drink. I’m gonna call my parents” she nods and goes to the fridge. After calling your parents to make sure that this is ok you go to check up on Carol seeing her in your room looking through your sketch books. “Do you like drawing?” She stops sipping her drink “Oh yeah” You look around your room to find something else to talk about. Then you notice your pile of magazines.

 “Hey! Do you like looking through these for the hot guys...and women?” You wiggle you eyebrows at her and she starts laughing “women? really” You shrug “Some women are really hot can’t help it. You’re just boring” She pouts and comes closer to you and grabs a magazine from your pile. “Oh look at this man” she shows you a hairy man “ugh no too hairy” she gives you an offended look “Hairy men are amazing” you snort “Not when you laying on their chest and of a sudden your choking on their chest hair” You raise your eyebrows and show her another man “Now this is it” she nods and looks back down looking through the magazine “He’s alright but too girly” You give her an offended face. “To girly ma’am he has a full beard and is muscular” she laughs “OK” After looking through magazines and making fun of each others preferences you realize that you still have homework.

 You look up and realize that you forgot it in the car. But thinking your parents will probably be late for dinner so you ask Carol “Do you wanna get food with me?” “Hell Yeah!” you laugh and go to Charlies Room “Charlie me and Carol are going to get food we’ll be back” You both kinda just sit in the car for a second warming up “Jesus I’m freezing my tits off” Carol looks down and nods “yep you are” You smack your teeth and playfully smack her arm. You finally get going. after getting food she helps you bring it in and you call for the girls while pulling out the food and Carol already chowin down. Done eating you and Carol go back to your room and just chill feeling that food coma. You look at your clock and notice that its almost 10. “Should I bring you guys home now?” Carol looks at your clock then back at you “Ugh I don’t wanna leave” You smile “to bad” You get up and grab you jacket “Come on Care Care” she glares at you “Ew don’t call me that ever” she gets up quickly, moving behind you brushing onto you while grabbing her jacket. You eyes widen ‘oh shit’ but before anything else could happen she pulls away. You  ignore it and call out for your sister and Debbie, Carol stands behind you quietly staring at you. You don’t notice but she smirks and looks you up and down. 

[thewildsophia]

.Art Project. Clone High//Van Gogh x Reader

Van Gogh x Reader

Word Count: 2564

~~~~~~~~~~

No matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t get the thought of the tiny Dutch artist out of your head. You weren’t even sure what about him it was that caught your attention. Perhaps it was his orange hair that almost looks red in the right lighting, or maybe his pale skin that mirrored the white bandages that you know he changes everyday (you also loved how his face would blossom with this gorgeous shade of orange-pink when he was complimented), or maybe it was just his hands. Yeah that was it. His hands, petite and delicate, that could paint such beautiful, exquisite paintings that told of many different things.

God you felt like such a creep. 

But you couldn’t help it. You were absolutely infatuated, -- no, that’s not quite right -- obsessed with him. 

And the worst part about it all was that the two of you have barely had any real interactions with each other. The last time the two of you had really talked was when you were assigned an art project with him. It was a collaborative project where you two were given a piece of art and two canvases and you would paint half the artwork on each canvas using styles and colors that were different, but still complimented the other half. 

You two had received the artwork The Kiss by Gustav Klimt, with you painting the man and Van Gogh painting the woman. You had used cooler colors -- blues, greens, grays and purples -- while Van Gogh used warmer ones -- reds, yellows, oranges and whites. You had focused most of the detail on the man, leaving the background somewhat barren with Van Gogh doing the opposite, focusing on the background and less on the woman.

It had actually turned out really well and the two of you had received a perfect grade, but what you liked the most about the whole thing was how much time you got to spend with him. 

You worked with him for a whole week and when the deadline was coming up he invited you to his dorm to finish it. You actually found it quite funny how much his room looked like The Bedroom, but you weren’t surprised. 

If you really thought about it, it was probably the second day when you started to become fascinated by him. The sketches had been completed and you two had just started painting. No matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t focus on your piece, intrigued by his painting. His strokes were quick, decisive, like he knew exactly what he wanted. It was difficult not to stare as he painted and you had barely gotten any work done that day. And he quickly picked up on your distracted state. 

“Is something the matter?” God that voice sounded just perfect to you. It was deep, but not too deep, and somewhat raspy, like he had a slight cold. You could listen to that voice for hours. 

“Y/N? Are you alright?” You remember him asking. 

“Yeah.” You had answered, “I’ve just never seen you paint before. It’s beautiful.” After those words had left your mouth, that beautiful peach color blessed his pale skin and he looked away with a bashful smile. 

“I-Thank you.” He had stuttered and it was probably the cutest thing you had ever heard. You wanted to get him to do that more often. After that the two of you continued to work on your project with the occasional chatter between you. 

When the two of you had finished, you didn’t really talk to the other. You’d wave to each other in the hallways while transitioning classes or offer a quiet “Hey” when entering Painting II. What you did find a bit strange is that if you show up first, he’ll sit at the same table as you and vice-versa, and neither of you seemed to mind it. 

Actually, it kind of worked to your advantage. 

You really couldn’t help yourself and often found yourself drawing Van Gogh in your sketchbook, ranging from basic sketches to full on ink pieces (of course you’d ink them when you got back to your dorm). It’s actually gotten so bad lately that you now have completed paintings of him, whether it be acrylic, watercolor, oil, gouache, you name it and you probably have it. 

You were actually about half way through painting another piece of him, although you didn’t like this one as much as some of the others since he looked a bit too feminine. While painting, you heard a knock at your dorm’s door. You quickly looked at the clock hanging on the wall opposite of a window. 

“It’s almost 10pm, why the hell is someone coming up here?” You thought before getting up and looking out the peephole in your door only to be greeted with nothing. You grumbled to yourself while opening the door just to make sure no one left something for you. 

Upon opening the door, you’re greeted with none other than the clone of Vincent Van Gogh himself, canvas and set of acrylics pinned at his side. You felt yourself straighten as you greeted him.

“Oh-Hey. It’s almost 10, are you alright? You need something?” You asked watching him shift his stance before answering, 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry for coming by so late, I just needed a bit of help with the portrait project and you’re the only person I really felt comfortable coming to.” He admitted, rubbing the back of his. You felt your heart stutter at hearing that.

“It’s alright, what did you need help with specifically?” You asked leaning onto the door frame. 

“I’m having trouble with making a background that works with the subject.” He said. Weird. Backgrounds are usually his speciality. “Um, may I come in?” He asked. Your eyes widen slightly with realization of you forgetting to let him hit you.

“Of course! Sorry.” You apologized sheepishly, moving out of the way to let him in. 

“It’s fine.” He said. You closed the door before quickly jogging over to your desk, grabbing the still wet painting and placing it against the wall opposite the door, facing towards said wall. You cleared a spot on your desk for him to place his things. 

“Alright, let’s see what you got so far.” You said looking over his painting. 

You talked to him for about 15 minutes about how he could improve what he currently had before you got up to grab you painting to show him what you had done.

“That’s Frida Kahlo, right? If I remember correctly she’s from Mexican descent, so I would use brighter colors like greens, pinks and yellows.” You said while rustling with the huge stack of paintings you had looking for it. “I had gotten Aaron Douglas, so I stuck with more desaturated colors and focused less on details and more on the silhouettes of the subjects.” Once grabbing the painting you returned to Van Gogh, placing the painting onto the desk next to his.

Only…That wasn’t the right painting.

Nope, instead it was one of Van Gogh, specifically the one of him you had finished a few weeks ago of him looking at himself in a full-body mirror while painting a self portrait. You grabbed the painting, pressing it against your chest the moment you realized it was the wrong one. You stared at him a moment before turning around and scrounging around in the pile again for the right painting. 

“Y/N-” Van Gogh started, but you weren’t gonna let him finish. 

“Just! Give me a second.” You said, searching a bit faster. God seemed to be against you that night because when you started to look for it faster the whole stack fell and, of course, with it came the majority of paintings you had made of him. And…the painting of Douglas. 

You stood there a moment, feeling the sweat gather at your forehead and back of your neck. You grabbed the painting of Douglas before stacking all the other ones up. You turned back around, slowly walking back over to the desk and putting the right painting next to his. 

“So, um, like I was saying earlier…” But your voice died in your throat when you heard him speak.

“Y/N.” He said firmly. You felt yourself swallow thickly before looking over at him. “Come with me.” 

And you did. You really didn’t feel like arguing with him after what had just happened. He led you to his dorm room on the 3rd floor, unlocking it and gesturing for you to step in. You did before he closed the door and walked over to the corner of his room. He pulled out a bundle of canvas, separating them from each other. 

“You know, for the longest time I felt like such a creep doing this so often, but after seeing what you’ve been doing, I feel a lot less like one.” He said while revealing the paintings to you.

They were of you. They were all of you.

You felt your heart leap out of your chest as your eyes laid on the paintings. They were all different from the last, varying in size, color, style, much like your own. 

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you ever since we were assigned that project together, ever since…you said that about my painting.” He started, “At first you were just a passing thought, but as time went on, you started to plague my mind more and more often to the point where I couldn’t get you off my mind.” He finished, that stunning peach color returning to his cheeks. 

You walked over to where he had the paintings spread out over his bed, running your fingers over the texture in the dried paint.

“Oh, Van Gogh, these are…” You started, still stunned about everything. 

“Not my best work, I know.” He said scratching the back of his neck, “It was a bit difficult painting you without having you here to reference.” He admitted. 

“No, Van Gogh, these are beautiful.” You said stroking your cheek, “And not just because they’re of me.” You added with a laugh, to which Van Gogh also let out a chuckle. 

The room then when quiet, neither of you having the courage to speak up until you decided the silence had lasted enough. 

“I don’t know what it is about you,” You started, “But you’ve captured my interest, and ever since I got to watch you paint that day I also haven’t been able to get you out of my head.” You paused, breathing in deeply. Well, it’s now or never you suppose. 

“Everytime I think of you, I can physically feel my chest tighten and I feel almost like I’m going to be sick, but in a good way.” You tried to explain, not meeting his light blue eyes once. “I’m not sure if this is what love is supposed to feel like, since I’ve never really been in love before, but…I know that I do like you. Like…really like you and…God, I don’t know what I’m saying; I’ve probably said too much.” You finish with a nervous chuckle. 

“No,” You heard him say, “You said just enough.” He grabbed your hand, making you look down at him.

“I’ve…I’ve never really been in love before either, but…I do know that I really enjoy being with you, even if we’re not talking to each other. Just being around you makes me happy. Hell, the whole point of me seeing you this late was just to see you.” Van Gogh looked up at you briefly before looking down at the ground. “Ah, I’m rambling. Look, my point is that I don’t know what it’s like to love someone, but I do know what it’s like to really like someone, and…I really like you.” He finishes, looking back up at you only to notice the glassiness of tears that clouded you e/c eyes.

“Oh, no, wait don’t start crying.” You heard him say, but you couldn’t stop the flow of tears that warmed your cheeks every so slightly. You collapsed onto your knees, embracing Van Gogh, soon feeling his arms wrap around you and the wetness of tears on the back of your shirt. You hugged him harder when you heard a sob rip from his chest, trying your best not to start sobbing yourself. After all, you didn’t look the most elegant when you cried. 

The two of you stayed like that for what felt like hours before finally pulling away from the other. You looked him in the eyes, rubbing away some of the stray tears that still remained on his cheeks. He returned the favor. 

“All this time,” he started, “I was so scared to tell you how I felt about you. Hell, I was scared to talk to you at all. I was so worried that I would mess things up between us that I decided to just stay silent.” He paused, sighing. “It’s…difficult for me to connect with people so…I don’t have many good friends. I didn’t want to ruin what we had.” 

“I was scared too,” You admitted, “In all honesty, I wasn’t sure if you even wanted to talk to me after we finished the project. I like being around you, so I was okay with just sitting near you in art.” You ran your hand through his orange hair, being mindful of his bandages. 

“I guess we're both kinda creeps.” You say after a minute. He smiles with a chuckle. 

“Yeah.” He whispers, “I guess we are.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Extended Ending: 

You let go of Van Gogh, allowing him to clear his bed and put the paintings away. He straightened his bed out, looking over at his own clock that read quarter til midnight. He turned to you, peach dusting his pale cheeks.

“Would you, um…” He stuttered, “Would you like to spend the night? I don’t mean like, you know, but just…sleep. It’s late, we have class in the morning and it’s a bit of a walk to your dorm.” He finished, gesturing to his bed. You blushed before smiling.

“I’d love to.” You answered. He smiled before opening the covers, patting the open space.

“Great! I-Um, I’ll get the lights.” He said, walking past you. You took your shoes off before climbing into his bed, moving all the way over to one side. He turned the light off, the room only being visible because of the moonlight coming through the curtains. You felt the bed shift, assuming Van Gogh had gotten in the bed with you. 

For a while, you both laid there stiffly, painfully aware of the other’s presence. You felt his eyes on you for a while before he spoke.

“Um…would it be alright if I…” He said, scooting closer to you. You did the same, until the two of you met in the center. You turned your body towards his and he did the same. The two of you simply stared at the other for a moment before he wrapped his arms around your neck. You, in turn, wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your chin upon his head. He pressed his face into your collar and you shuttered as you felt his breath on your neck. 

“This,” he started, “This is…” Leaving you to finish his sentence. 

“Nice.” 

[peach-the-owl]

Maybe one with Kima and Allura? The reader is an artist and one day they start to leave little notes with sketches for them in random places where they can find them and it's just them being a good friend trying to make them smile during the day.

Aww, I love Kima and Allura so much, their relationship is just so precious 🥰 I hope this turned out well

Also might’ve let myself get carried away with the idea, it’s a bit long 😅

Little Notes

Allura & Kima & Artist!Reader (Platonic)

You were making your way over to Allura's for a visit knowing she had been stressing out over Kima being missing from her mission in Kraghammer and hoping to calm some of those nerves. You walk up to the doors of her tower and give a knock, after a small wait the door opens to reveal the arcanist herself.

"(Y/n)! It’s been awhile, how are you?" She asks slightly surprised by your sudden appearance.

"Hello Allura, sorry about not informing you of my arrival." You sheepishly scratch at the back of your head in apology. "Do you mind if I come in? If not I can just-"

"No no, it’s alright." She stops you and steps out of the way for you to enter the tower. You welcome yourself in and go to sit in your usual spot whenever you’d visit. "I’m actually glad you decided to pop in, I’ve needed a distraction what with everything going on." Allura admits. At this point you pull out your sketchbook and pencil you always carry with you and start to add some fine line work to a piece you’d been working on for weeks now, never seeming to get it quite right.

"I know you’ve been stressing over this, which is exactly why I wanted to come over. So why don’t you tell me about what you’ve been up to recently." You suggest, not looking away from your drawing. You knew this wouldn’t bother Allura because for the years you've known each other, while it looked like you weren’t paying attention to the conversation you actually were, listening very carefully to every word being spoken to you. Allura went on to tell you about her work with the council and some of the worries she has for Kima, you adding in your own thoughts to the conversation every now and again. She then told you about her allies, the adventuring group known as Vox Machina that she asked to help find Kima, you knew about this group and what they did for the royal family but didn’t know them as personally as Allura did.

"I just hope nothing terrible has happened." Allura finally concludes after her long rant. You give an amused hum and sigh, taking proper notice that you’d wandered away from your project and had several random doodles covering the page. However instead of hindering you this placed a wonderful idea into your head.

"Relax Ally, if these people are as capable as you say then they’ll find Kima in no time. Just relax and breath, alright." You look up at her this time seeing her nod and take a few deep breaths. While she was distracted with that you carefully tear out some of the doodles, writing little messages of encouragement on the back of them and stand up. You sneakily slipping one of the notes between the cushion of the chair having it stick out just enough to be noticeable but not too obvious. "It’s been lovely, thank you for having me over but it’s getting late. I should really be making my way home."

"Allow me to walk you out." Allura offers which you happily accept, sneakily hiding the little drawings along the way in various places for Allura to hopefully find later. "I really appreciated the visit, helps to confide in a friend. You’re welcome back anytime." Allura gives you a quick hug that you return before the two of you part ways until next time.

It had been a while since your little visit and felt it only fair to check in and see how everything was going. When you arrive you’re relieved to see that Kima had returned in one piece, while Allura was occupied with thanking Vox Machina for their efforts you quietly shuffle over. You then watch as Kima and Allura share a small moment by staring at each other before they run into each other’s arms, you smile a little at this before deciding to quickly jump in.

"No it’s fine, just pretend I’m not here." You joke gaining everyone’s attention, you walk over to the two and without missing a beat Kima gives you a playful punch in the arm. "I swear to Bahamut Kima, you’re gonna break my arm one of these days." You slightly hiss from the pain.

"Nah if I meant to do that, it'd already be broken." Kima says slyly, you roll your eyes before properly hugging your friend, slipping a little note you’d made into her armour.

"Well now who’s this one?" The red Dragonborn asks. After some proper introductions with the group Allura invites everyone into her tower for tea, you hang back a second unsure if you should join them or just head home early.

"Don’t just stand there, the offer stands for you too." Allura gives a warm smile and ushers you inside.

"I know I just didn’t want to feel like I was overcrowding the place, plus I’m sure you’d like to catch up with Kima." You say meekly. You make your way up and automatically go to sit in your usual spot, pulling out your sketchbook as both a distraction and to continue on a commission for a client you’d received. Enjoying some tea and listening to the conversation between everyone else, Kima leans over your shoulder to look at your work.

"The hell is that supposed to be?" She asks quietly, staring at your drawing.

"Art." You reply cheekily. You catch her rolling her eyes at the corner of yours.

"I know what it is, but what is it?"

"The client asked for something abstract, so this is the result so far." You precede to erase and redraw a few of the lines you’d made until you felt satisfied.

"I don’t get it." You stifle a laugh, Kima didn’t really have an artistic eye but you appreciated that she at least tried to understand your craft whenever the two of you got to interact with each other.

"Shouldn’t you be involved in this conversation? Not to be rude or anything but it sounds important." You look up at Kima now to which she scratches at the back of her head, you can now see the blush on her cheeks.

"His questions were making me a little uncomfortable." She gestures over to the goliath, Grog. You give a reassuring pat her on the shoulder, sneaking another note into her armour before you realize something.

"Sorry to interrupt but what time is it?" After some fumbled reply’s Allura gives you her best estimation. "I have to go, I’ve got client to meet today and sooo much work to do. Thank you for the tea Allura, it was lovely to meet you all and thank you for safely bringing Kima back." You give a bit of a rushed goodbye as you gather up your things and hurry out of the tower, pausing briefly at the door to hide one more note for Allura to find later.

Time came and went, work piled up leaving you busy to no end, the only contact you had with your friends being the letters you’d write each other telling of what you’d been up to. However once the dragons came your world went crashing down, you had longed for a break away from all the work on your shoulders but not like this. Your home was in shambles, your hard work that took you months to complete destroyed in seconds, you considered yourself lucky to have made it out alive. Now you were but another refugee in Whitestone praying for a miracle while doodling in your sketchbook, the only thing that survived with you albeit slightly charred at the corners.

"Oh my gosh! You’re alive!" You hear a familiar voice call, looking over to see Kima run up to you. You give each other hug and once you let go Kima punches your arm.

"Every time I swear." You sigh with a small laugh, rubbing your arm.

"Gotta keep that arm strength up for your art stuff." Kima jokes, trying to lighten the mood a bit. "Anyways, do you know where Ally is?" You shake your head.

"I don’t, but I assume she’s alive, that woman’s a tough cookie." Kima nods in agreement.

"Would you like to help us?" Keyleth asks.

"Me? No I couldn’t, I’ve never really been the adventuring type, I much prefer swinging around a paintbrush over a sword." You politely decline the offer. "But I would like to advise one thing," you pat Kima's shoulder, once again slipping in a note you’d made into her armour in hopes of bringing encouragement. "Don’t do anything rash that could get you killed." Kima gives a quiet "yeah I know" and with that you watch the party continue on their way.

You did what you could with what little resources you had to build up and regain some normality to your life, starting a little side business of making motivational cards for anyone needing an extra pick me up. Folks seemed to really like it, each card having a personalized picture and message written on it, doing what you could to help keep hope alive in these trying times. When you met up with Kima and Allura again Allura was relived to see you were still alive and standing strong. They invited you over to the abode they were staying at together, which put a new idea into your head. Before you arrived for your visit with them you had made more of your little notes for them, this time making a few that you hoped would help spark the romance between the two you’ve seen since day one (secret wingman). When you arrived they gave you a quick tour of the place, leaving opportunities for you to slip the notes into various places around the house, making you wonder if this time they were doing it on purpose having finally caught on to your little gimmick. You all sat down and sipped away at some tea or coffee while talking about the actions going forward, as the evening came you bid your friends a goodnight and made your way back to your temporary living quarters…

More time flew by, the Chroma Conclave was since defeated and Emon was slowly rebuilding itself, a time of peace finally setting in and you had a lot of work ahead of you if you were ever going to be able to buildup your home from scratch. The only downside was you didn’t have the gold to pay for everything, your work as an artist didn’t always pay a lot but it was enough to keep you stable but having to pay to acquire materials for the house and art studio was another story entirely. Your then approached by two very familiar people.

"Allura! Kima! So good to see you both again. I’m sorry I haven’t been able to write or visit often lately, been quite busy trying to re-establish myself." You greet your friends and notice the large bag Kima's carrying.

"It’s alright we’ve been rather busy ourselves with everything going on. We actually wished to talk with you." Allura gives you a gentle smile.

"Well I’d normally like to welcome you into my home, but as you can see it’s… not much of a home yet." You half-joke gesturing to the still ruined state of your house, the broken paintings you once had all having been stripped away when the Cinder King still ruled.

"That was actually one of the things we wished to speak with you about, Kima if you would." She turns to Kima who in turn hulls the bag over her shoulder letting it clatter to the ground, and you can hear the jangling of coin inside. "I believe this should help accommodate everything you need for your home and work." You stare jaw dropped at the bag filled to the brim with gold.

"I-This is very generous of you. I simply can’t just take your money." You say out of shock at the large gold pile in front of you.

"Think of it as payment for all you’ve done for us." Allura smiles and gives you an expectant look.

"All I’ve done? I haven’t really done anything to help."

"Sure you have, back when Kima was missing finding those papers with the little drawings and messages really helped keep me calm and cheer me up through all the stress." Allura explains.

"Yeah, or the ones you managed to slip into my armour. Little distracting at first but invigorating when I was in a tough spot in battle." Kima jumps in. You just smile, all you were doing was trying to be nice and encouraging to your friends unknowing of the effects it apparently lead to.

"Still, not all is from us." Allura suddenly cuts into your thoughts, you look at her confused. "That was the second thing we wanted to talk with you about. Some of this is a sort of upfront payment for a few commissions from our friends, half now to help you and half later once you've completed their requests."

"There’s more!?" You were almost lightheaded from the information, but shake it off and refocus yourself. "I’d love to, please fill me in on all the details."

"First off Keyleth asked for a landscape piece of her home in Zephrah, Keyleth will easily help bring you to and from her home whenever you’re ready. Next Percy wanted a portrait made for castle Whitestone, he said he’d fill in the rest of the details upon your arrival. Finally," Allura gives a bit of a sigh, "there’s Taryon… he wants a, and I quote, 'self portrait made with nothing but the finest oil paints you can get your hands on for the Slayer's Cake.'"

"So basically the plan is to visit Whitestone once my home's rebuilt. That should be fine, one question though, who’s Taryon?"

"Trust me, you’ll know who he is when you meet him."

"Sounds like quite the character." You say with a hint of nervousness. "Well if that’s everything, I should get to work. Thank you again for everything." You go to collect the heavy bag of gold only to pause when you hear Kima speak up.

"Ally did you still wanna… you know ask about the thing?" She had leaned closer to Allura to ask but you still heard her.

"What thing?" You question to which Allura perks up a bit in realization.

"I almost completely forgotten. Right, there was one more, very special request." You look at the two in silence, Allura walks up to you and takes one of your hands in hers. "(Y/n), Kima and I have a very important and special request of you." You just nod and wait for her to continue. "We were wondering if you could make us something special for… for our wedding." You stare wide eyed in awe.

"You two are getting married? That’s amazing! About time too." You cheer.

"Not so loud please, we just want a simple and private wedding you know, a few eye witnesses for the event. You don’t have to make anything grand, if anything we’d like what you make to be similar to the notes you’ve always left us." You press your hands together and hold back the urge to just scream to the heavens in happiness for them. When you manage to calm yourself enough you look back that the couple and give them a large smile.

"I’d be honoured to make something for your wedding." You give them both a hug and reset your sights on your shambled home. "Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a house to get built."

"Hold on, I still have one more thing for you." Kima interrupts this time. Before you can ask you feel a punch impact your arm, you suck back the pain as you rub the spot she hit. "Alright now your free to start." She gives you a smug look.

"Every. Single. Time." You playfully glare back. You had a long road ahead of you and you were certain it’d only be a matter of time before the peace is disturbed again but for now you wanted to focus on the present. Like you said, you had a lot of work to do.

[sams-sass]

Secrets Seen

GIF not mine

Hi! I got another idea :) I hadn't written a Dean fic in a while and I didn’t want to leave my Dean girls hanging. Hope you enjoy. Thanks for all the love! 

Summary: Dean finds something of yours and secrets are revealed. This takes place in early seasons, like one or two. 

Warnings: Language, fluff, slight angst, discussion of injuries. 

Characters: You, Dean, Sam 

Pairings: Dean x reader

--------------------------------------

You were curled against the back door of the impala. Your hair was blowing slightly from Sam’s cracked window as you drew in your sketchbook. Dean was humming softly to Metallica that was playing in the otherwise quiet car. The trees were flying by the window against the warm blue sky. You felt at peace with these two men. You had always loved both of them, but lately something was changing between you and Dean and it was scaring you. You found yourself day dreaming about him, whispering his name against the stillness of night. You didn’t know what to do, you didn’t want to ruin what you had now but it was becoming harder to ignore.

“Anyone hungry?” Dean spoke over the music.

“Me!” You shot up causing Dean to laugh and Sam to turn in his seat and send a smirk your way.

“In the mood for anything in particular?” Dean asked, looking at you in the rearview mirror. You placed your pencil against your lips and looked up in thought.

“Pancakes.” You said, with a smile.

“Looks like its breakfast for dinner then.” Dean licked his lips and took one last look at you in the mirror. You went back to drawing, biting your lip in concentration. Dean almost lost himself in staring at you, your hair blowing slightly, your lip stuck between your teeth. He cleared his throat and tried to shake the thoughts from his head, focusing on the road once again.

Dean pulled the impala into a diner parking lot in about an hour. You got out of the car and stretched, taking a large gulp of fresh air into your lungs. Dean had to stop and breathe as he looked at you. You raised your arms above your head causing your shirt to ride up slightly. Dean caught himself staring at the scar that ran across your hip, he was the one who had stitched you up. He will never forget running his hands across your smooth skin, watching the pain flash in your eyes hurt him more than you. Dean was so upset to leave a scar across your perfect skin. You assured him that it made you look like a hunter and that you didn’t mind any of his scars. If only you knew how much that one sentence had meant to him. Your eyes were closed as you pulled in a large breath through your nose, a look of peace crossing your beautiful face. You licked your lips and let your arms fall back down by your sides.

“Hey, you guys go get a table, I’m gonna fill up baby.” Dean called to you and Sam. You and Sam nodded and made your way into the diner. Dean crossed over to the gas station, filling up the impala before you set out on the road again. When he was putting the gas nozzle back he saw your sketch book in the backseat. He knew he shouldn’t, but the temptation won. He opened the door and grabbed it into his hands. It was a leather bound journal that he had gotten you for Christmas. Every hunter needed a journal, the smile you had given him was all he needed that day. You were his saving grace. His partner. He opened the journal and immediately took a sharp breath through his teeth. You were incredibly talented, you captured such small details that it made the picture look almost like a photograph. A snap of time captured by your hands. The first drawing was of a lake that Dean didn’t recognize. There was snow and evergreens surrounding the large body of water. Dean wondered if this was from your life before being a hunter, before you knew them and left everything behind. He turned the page and saw a drawing of your perspective from the backseat of the impala. He saw himself in front, one hand on the wheel as the other put a cassette tape into the radio. Sam beside him, his face was turned slightly and a small smile sat on his face, his eyes light and happy. Dean saw that he also had a small smile on his face, you captured everything. The way his jacket moved with him, the freckles on his face, his ring. Everything was there, he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and turned the page. This one was of Sam sitting at a table. His hands resting on a book, a look of concentration on his face that you had shown perfectly again. His shaggy hair hung across his furrowed brow, his eyes narrowed slightly in thought. When Dean turned the page again he had to sit down. The picture was of him. He was leaning against a chair, beer in hand. He had a smile on his face and one hand in his pocket. He remembered this night immediately. The three of you solved a case and took a much needed day off. You ordered pizza, watched westerns, and drank until you all passed out. What really shocked Dean though, was how you had made him looking right at you. In the drawing he was staring directly at you, smiling at you. Dean saw happiness in his eyes for the first time in a long time. He saw what he wanted, he saw how he looked at you. How could you not know how he felt about you? Dean continued to turn the pages. There were some drawings of different scenes from all your cases. There was another one of Sam, but the rest were of Dean. He was sitting on a motel bed, his elbow resting on his leg as he took a drink from a whiskey bottle. Another, he was looking in the trunk for a weapon. More and more of him. The last one was of just his eyes looking through the rearview mirror. He knew he was looking directly at you because he did it all the time. He found himself taking glances at you more and more. It was becoming hard for him to ever take his eyes off you. He closed the journal and went back to the diner. He walked in and sat down with you and Sam.

“Everything ok?” Sam asked, his brow furrowed.

“Yeah, why?” Dean asked, trying to sound as normal as possible.

“You were gone for a while.” Sam said, titling his head slightly. Dean looked over at you, you were looking right at him, waiting for an answer.

“Right, slow gas pump. Did you guys order?” Dean took a sip from his soda, hoping it would stop them from pressing further.

“Yeah, I got you a cheeseburger.” You said, smiling at him. He stiffened under his jacket and smiled back at you.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” He said to you. You blinked a few times before you collected yourself.

“Yeah, of course.” Your voice was slightly higher than usual, nervous you took a big gulp of water. Thankfully your food came, giving you a break. You scarfed down your chocolate chip pancakes and made your way back to the impala to continue driving. You climbed in the backseat and immediately picked up your sketchbook again, starting where you left off. Sam’s phone rang about a half hour later.

“Yeah. Ok, were like three hours from there, we can take it.” He said into the phone, giving Dean a sideways glance. There was a defeated tone to his voice and the whole mood of the car changed from happy and carefree to serious in a matter of seconds.

“That was Bobby. Werewolves about three hours from here.” He turned to Dean again. Dean looked over at his brother and nodded before turning the music up, drowning everything else out. Dean couldn’t stop staring at you. He found himself gazing longingly at you once every ten minuets it felt like. The way you touched the pencil to your lips. How you tucked your hair behind your ear when pieces fell around your face, how you squinted at the page like you wanted it to talk. He couldn’t help but wonder if you were still drawing him or if you had moved on. He hoped it was still him. He loved that you took time to perfectly replicate his face into your journal. Something he gave you that you obsessively took everywhere. He loved the fact that he was always with you. You kept him close throughout the day and all through the night.

The drive was becoming daunting as you got closer. You all had just wanted a day off. To relax and maybe get more than three hours of sleep. The sun was setting around you, painting the sky in purples, pinks, and oranges. You were hanging in between the boys, looking out the window at the sunset when you caught a glimpse of Dean’s eyes in the light. The jade in them bounced against the darkening blue of the sky. The pink swirls dancing among the clouds brought out the orange specks jumping with his black pupils. You smiled to yourself.

“What?” He asked you, moving his eyes to look at you. He wasn’t annoyed, seemed more entertained if anything. You shook your head in embarrassment and cleared your throat.

“Sorry! The sky is just really pretty.” You said, biting your lip. He tried to contain his smile, you let out a breath and sunk into the backseat again. Shit.

The heavy clouds blended with the colors as the sun took its resting place for the night. As the cloak of night drew nearer it made it impossible for you to keep drawing so you placed your journal on the seat and once again lost yourself in looking out the window. Dean pulled into a motel and the three of you piled out. Dean went to go get a room leaving you and Sam with the bags. You walked into the room and all did an assessment. Definitely had worse places. You took the top sheet off one of the beds and laid it over the couch. You usually slept on the couch much to the boys protest, but you were smaller and didn’t move much in your sleep so you didn’t mind. You were tucking the sheet into the couch when Dean spoke behind you.

“You know, I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to share a bed.” Your stomach flipped and you tried to keep your face composed as you walked over and sat down on the bed next to him.

“Dean shameless flirting Winchester.” You tilted your head to look him in the eyes.

“It’s not shameless if I mean it.” He looked back at you. There was something in his eyes that took you by surprise. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but something told you this was just more than playful banter.

“I-“ You were cut off by the bathroom door opening and Sam walking in front of you two.

“You guys ready to go?” He asked, slipping a jacket over his flannel.

“Yeah.” You and Dean both said at the same time, leaping off the bed. Sam looked between the two of you, his eyebrows came together.

“Cool.” He said, clearly still confused. The three of you went back to the impala and once again climbed in.

 ----------------------------------------

The werewolf howled as you charged at it with you gun. You could hear your blood pumping in your ears, frantically moving around. The wolf grabbed Sam by the shirt and tossed him aside, he hit the wall creating a loud bang. Dean’s gun went off next to you, but it was too late. The wolf’s claw came down on Dean, tearing his skin open. You shot at the wolf until it went down in front of you. Panting you ran to Dean’s side while screaming Sam’s name. Sam groaned against the floor and made his way to a sitting position. You looked at Dean’s wound and shuttered. Blood. There was so much fucking blood. The claw marks ran across his bicep, not fatal but bleeding out was a real possibility. You quickly ripped your shirt off and tied it tight around Dean’s arm. Sam limped his way over to you and helped you lift Dean, making your way to the impala. You were laid across the back, holding Dean against you. Sam drove like a mad man back to the motel. You and Sam carried Dean into the motel room and laid him down on the couch.

“You got it?” Sam asked, holding the back of his head.

“Yeah, Sam you go take care of yourself. I got Dean.”

“Thanks, Y/N.” Sam closed the bathroom door and turned to shower on. You grabbed the kit and threaded the floss into the needle before getting to work on Dean, pouring whiskey over the wound. He shot up and tried to grab his arm, seeing you in just a bra and jeans covered in blood. You sat up and gently laid him back down again, you looked into his eyes and smiled. He looked at the claw marks and let out a shaky breath.

“I’m going to take care of you, Dean.” You said as you threaded the needle and floss through his skin. He hissed but tried his best to stay still.

“Ya know, this isn’t how I pictured getting you topless.” He joked, his face contorting against the pulling of his skin. You laughed, looking at him for a second.

“Really? What did you think, just some wild drunken night?” You asked, ignoring the buzzing starting to grow across your skin from his eyes on you.

“Of course not. I would romance you first.” He was being weird. He had been weird since the diner. You didn’t really know how to respond, but you were highly curious.

“How would you romance me?” You asked, hoping you weren’t pushing too far, but he seemed like he wanted you to ask.

“I would make you breakfast for dinner, I would watch Y/F/M with you and let you eat all the popcorn. I would tell you how I think about you all the time. That you’re my favorite person in the whole world and that every time I’m near you I feel a sense of peace I was never given. I would tell you that…that I saw your journal and the fact that you carry me around with you all the time brings me so much joy.” He was looking right at you now. His eyes were searching yours for any kind of answer, yes, no, shut up. Anything. You licked your lips and blinked trying to concentrate on what he just said. He had just said that, right? Maybe the werewolf took a swing at you too and this was all a coma dream. You were surprised about how you weren’t mad he looked at your journal. Embarrassed sure, but not mad.

“I…I’m so embarrassed you saw my journal. Its just like 50 drawings of you.” You were trying desperately to distract yourself with wrapping his arm in gauze.

“I’m not embarrassed. God, Y/N I have been crazy about you for so long now.” Um…WHAT? You were absolutely taken aback. You looked directly into his eyes and saw nothing but adoration for you. Your lips parted and you felt your heart rate spike.

“I’m crazy about you too, Dean. I mean obviously, I draw you all the time.” You smiled at him and nervously tucked your hair behind your ear. His hand came over your face, his fingertips lightly touching your cheek before twisting into your hair. He pulled you to him, your hands laying across his chest. Your lips touched and heat immediately flowed throughout your body. Like someone poured warm honey all over you, the fire spread. You broke apart and stared into each other’s eyes for a moment, Dean smiled at you.

“So, this is why you guys have been so weird? Whatever, I just want to go to sleep. I’ll get my own room.” Sam’s voice came from behind you. You turned to face him, shooting him an apologetic look. His face softened and he walked over to you, placing a hand on your shoulder. “I’m happy for you guys.” He said, looking at you. He grabbed his duffel and walked towards the door. You smiled after him and turned back around to Dean.

“As much as I want to keep kissing you, I am still covered in your blood.” You said, gesturing to yourself.

“Right, yeah! You shower, I’ll get myself changed out here.” He said. You nodded and walked into the bathroom. You closed the door and touched your lips, still tasting Dean on them. You took off your blood stained clothes and stepped under the warm water. You felt the warm water wash away all the pain from this hunt and replace it with happiness, until only Dean was left. You grabbed the towel and made your way back into the room.

“Looks like I got you in my bed after all.” Dean said with a sideways grin. You laughed and ran your fingers through your wet hair. You slipped on your pajamas and crawled under the covers with Dean, he was so warm. His skin was smooth against yours as you curled into him. He laid his injured arm out and wrapped his other arm around you. He kissed your hairline and made small patterns on your shoulder. His finger tips lightly trailed up your neck and back down again, relaxing you completely.

“I’m so happy to be here with you. Is all that stuff you said earlier true? Do you really think about me all the time?” You said against his chest.

“Me too. Of course its all true! How could I think about anything but you. You are gorgeous, sexy, brilliant, and one of the best hunters I have ever seen.” You smiled shyly, turning your head into his chest. “Are you mad I looked at your journal?” He asked you.

“I thought I would be, but I was just embarrassed. I just kept drawing you and soon I realized I had this creepy little book of just you.” You giggled, rubbing your cheek against him.

“Like I said, I love that you carried me with you through everything. I love that I’m the one you chose to draw.” He looked down at you, raising his eyebrows.

“Thanks, Dean, for not being weird about it.” You began to trace patterns over his skin too. He hummed in response, exhaustion taking him. The two of you fell into a restful sleep, entwined in each other.

You woke to the sunlight streaming through the window. You groaned and tried to roll over, but felt Dean’s body pressed against yours, effectively caging you to him. You smiled and burrowed down further into his hot skin. You felt his lips on your back, his nose trailing behind them leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“Good morning.” You whispered into the quiet room.

“Hey baby.” He mumbled back, his voice deep and rough.

“Baby?” You said back, turning to face him.

“You’re mine now.” He said, leaving kisses all over your shoulder and back. You smiled, you were his.

“Does that mean you’re going to romance me?” You asked, biting your lip.

“Hell yes. I’m going to spoil you rotten.” He laughed wrapping his arm around you and squeezing you tight, and he did. Dean was the most giving man to you. He told you everyday how much you meant to him. He kissed you to sleep every night, his breath fanning over your skin in the morning. He was always there for you, he was everything. Everything you ever wanted and more.

[piperjistic]

"Hey Bulb, whatcha doin?" He waves, glowing slightly brighter and turns back to the space abyss.

"Looking back at space, huh?" She strides over and sits down next to him, watching the gaseous sky twinkle rivers of colors and stars.

"Well, do you plans on doing anything else?" He looks over, emblem facing her. His fingers sign out: eye, touch, animal.

"Of course you would want to that. Last time we did that, we almost got trampled to death." Quickly, he waved his hands and signed out sorry. She sighs and grabs his hands with one of hers to silence him. "I know you're sorry, I know. It's alright, I enjoyed it, I'm not gonna lie."

Bulb symbolically sighs in relief with a forward head jolt. She cracks a grin, letting go of his metal fingers. "Do you have your journal ready?" He nods his head immediately, his bulb glowing brighter.

"Hmmm I don't know man, you don't seem to making any sound," She nudges at him playfully and smirks. "Maybe you should of had a bell installed so I can tell if you're actually excited or lying." His grew bright as he folded his arms and looked away from her, his imaginary chin & nose up and their bulb head tightly between his shoulders. "Awww you're trying to pouttttt~ So cuteeee~"

He shakes his head rapidly, light brightly flashing and messily signing out an angry message. Quickly, Fae shields her eyes & leans away before raising a open hand as a symbol of her surrender.

"Easy now- easy! Easy Bulb! You know I can't understand you like that- also you're blinding me!" He curtly nods, knowing very well of his effect and goes back to pouting, "looking" away from Fae.

"Alright, alright, I'm sorry. Now where did you want to go today?"

His light dampens to normal, allowing Fae to see again and let down her guard. When she does, he lifts his pointer finger up as he has an idea.

- _ - _ -

Quietly as possible, they crouch low to the ground as they duck walk pass the trunks & shrubbery. Fae frowning as she remarks to her lightheaded friend. "This is stupid idea Bulb, and the most painful."

His metallic finger is pressed against her mouth, Bulb's glow dampens. She, of course, removes them and blows hair strains out of her face. "You're hands are cold Bulb, and what's-"

He shoves a hand to her mouth and uses the other to drag her up to the view. She gasps and slowly pulls down his hand, taking in the view. She glances over to Bulb, seeing his imaginary wide eyes and smiles.

"Luffians, this world's most magical creatures... Heh... They glow just like you Bulb." He nods rapidly, before turning his sights back on the prancing creatures. He leans forward on the bush, taking in their anatomy and playful nature. Bushes of soft illuminating fur coated their heads and bodies & ankles, large joyful eyes of purity stared around with their light coral skin.

In his mind, he smiled. He reaches out subconsciously, -could their coats be as soft yet weightless as described in the books- and falls flat on his lightbulb; alerting the alluring creatures of them. Fae quickly grabs Bulb's arm and pivots to the opposite direction. "Oh shit-welp lets get going Bulb-!"

Bulb pulls away from her harshly, forcing them both to fall flat on the ground. Above them now stood a few luffians whom cocked their heads to the side and sniffed them. One sniffed the lightbulb and sneezed, flying back a few meters and giving Bulb a small shock. He touches where he was shocked and rubs it, his light flashing in amusement. Their nose buzzes as they rose up unbalanced and sneezed again, sending a bolt of electricity to the ground.

"Holy shit..." The luffians crowding the duo shift their focus to them.

"Uh-Uh we mean no harm..!" Bulb stands up, revealing his stature. The creatures stare at them, and some walk a few steps closer. "Bulb..! You don't know if they're deadly! Well to you anyways- but still!"

Nonsense, Bulb signs as he waves her off and walks in the middle of the luffian batch. They surround him as he sits down, crisscross applesauce. The initial luffian bounces over and snuggles into his side, rubbing itself all over his dress. Slowly, another approaches and sniffs his fingers. Bulb reaches above its head & lightly scratches it.

He beamed brighter than he had before (well with one exception), blinding Fae; who yelped as she fell back into the bush. He didn't notice as he was in bliss- it was truly true about the luffians coats. The luffian purred loudly, leaning into his hand completely.

Alluring, more came closer to him, some laid down to soak in the light, others continued to feed on the weeds & weed-fruits. His light flickered and piped down, however it didn't make much of a difference. A few piled on to him, snuggling him endearingly like he belonged. His robotic heart swelled; he hugged all that were in his lap. One stood up and rubbed its coat against Bulb's head, creating static electricity that shoot off into the sky when the creature sneezed. He pats them back down and scratches their neck & back, loud purring followed. Now that he got a better look at it, the hairs of the coat shimmered with a small barely visible electric-like current traveling through them. Hmmmm there was a study on them sometime ago about a theory- Hey!

He ripped his journal out of the glittering creature's mouth next to him. They baa at him and lays back down. Bulb shakes his head, opening it up to a new page, and takes out a pen from his sleeve.

-_-_-

Fae opens her eyes, massaging her temple. She mummurs as she sits up. "Thank Qwaud that headache passed..... Wait where's Bulb???"

Jumping on her feet, she looks in all directions ready to sprint, until seeing her friend have puffy creatures lay all over him; claiming him as theirs. She raises a brow, strolling over one foot at a time.

"I guess you're a king now Bulb, how do ya feel?" He simply shrugs, lightly scratching a snuggling luffian's coat while sketching the creatures in his journal. She takes a seat beside him, a luffian sits in her lap while another lays next to her. Unconsciously Fae scratches the creatures side, her eyes focused on Bulb.

"This really is your purpose... Creature hugger and nomad." Bulb nods, scribbling notes quicks before dragging his fingers down the page then shutting the book. Etched into the cover was a cross with a circle sitting near the end for each line that held another small circle; a symbol standing for 53 in hieroglyphs.

"I like the idea. One day, you'll take over the city and be it's king...! Hopefully I'll be your royal adviser right, hah!" He only nods, lying back into a luffian resting behind him. If he could smile, he would as his bulb shined brighter. The luffians near him shined brighter as well.

Fae sighs and lays back next to him. "Hmph, he's practically at home....." She grins, staring up at the stars. "Finally adjusted and all, I'm proud.”

She laughs to herself, Bulb glances over curiously. "I practically raised you like a child... Yet here you are as my best friend," She glances over. "Fun how that works?"

This time he didn't nod, he slowly reached over with his hand and booped her nose then retracts his hands behind his head; she snorts and chuckles. "You are so strange Bulb. A strange little tin man you are; I wouldn't have it any other way."

[beautifultypewriter]

Fooled Around and Fell in Love ~ Sir Gwaine

Requested: Yes / by Anonymous

Warnings: Needles (Reader is a tattoo artist) and mentions of blood

Word Count: 1,938 (I am so so sorry. This got so out of hand)

Pairing: Sir Gwaine x reader

Summary: It’s a modern AU! Percival takes Gwaine to his favorite tattoo artist so the man can get his first tattoo. Gwaine definitely did not count on the artist being this cute and he definitely did not count on catching real feelings.

A/N: This is a little bit inspired by Miranda Lambert’s cover of Fooled Around and Fell in Love (Originally by Elvin Bishop). I didn’t describe Gwaine’s tattoo because I really don’t know what he would get. Like I thought about it, but I couldn’t come up with anything.

You were at the front counter, working on a design for one of your clients while you waited for your next appointment. A regular of yours, Percival, was bringing in one of his buddies for his first tattoo. You always loved doing first tattoos because more often than not, you saw that person again and again. It was like once you got one, you caught some kind of tattoo fever. That’s how Percival became one of your regulars. He had come in for his first tattoo and you warned him about the fever, but he had only laughed and dismissed your claim. Then he was back at the shop a week later with an idea for his second tattoo and you were laughing out your ‘I told you so.’

 The bell above the door rang and you stopped what you were doing to look up at the two men who entered. The first you recognized as Percival, the same big smile on his face that he always had. The man behind him must have been his friend. This man was a bit shorter than Percival with long, dark hair and though he tried to hide it behind his smile, you could tell that he was a little bit nervous. Percival strolled over to the counter, leaned across it and kissed your cheek quickly.

 You smiled at him, “Hey, Perce.” He nodded to you and you looked behind him, holding your hand out to the other man, “Hi, I’m Y/N.”

 He stepped forward, taking your hand in his, “Gwaine.”

 You nodded, “Percival tells me that this is your first tattoo?”

 Gwaine nodded as he looked around the shop, “Yep.” He looked back at you, his eyes trailing down your body and back up again.

 He grinned at you as you nodded to the couches across the room, “Shall we?” Percival leaned against the counter as he pushed Gwaine towards the couch. You gave him a look, but he only smiled back. Grabbing your sketchbook and pencil, you made your way over to the couch, turning to a clean page and sitting beside Gwaine. You looked at him, “So what were you thinking?” Gwaine launched into all the details he wanted to put into his tattoo and where he wanted it. You nodded along as you made notes in your book and started some first sketches.

 When Gwaine was done speaking, he contented himself to just watch you as you worked. Your pencil scratched against the paper as you started a new design before quickly scratching it out and moving to an open space to start a third design. Gwaine watched you shake your head and start a new design, smiling when he noticed your tongue poke out slightly, your eyes squinted in concentration. Soon you had an entire page filled with various designs that all incorporated what Gwaine was looking for. You handed him the sketchbook, “What do you think? Anything jumping out at you?” He took the book from you, his eyes scanning every one of your designs, nodding at some and moving quickly over others.

 He pointed to one of the designs in the middle of the page, “Oh that’s it right there.”

 You looked over at the one he had chosen, “Yeah? Did you want to make any changes?”

 Gwaine shook his head as he handed you the book, “Nope, it’s perfect.” He grinned at you, leaning slightly closer to you. You leaned into him before quickly standing from the couch.

 “Great. I’ll get the stencil ready.” You heard Percival snort as you turned and headed back to the counter to gather your necessary supplies. The couch creaked as Gwaine stood to follow you. Smiling to yourself, you got started on the stencil. When you had finished, you looked up at the clock on the wall before turning to the two men, “Alright, so did you want to schedule an appointment to get this done or did you wanna do it right now?” You raised an eyebrow at Gwaine.

 He stared back, his own eyebrow quirking up, “I’ve got the time now.”

 You smiled as you grabbed the stencil and moved from behind the counter, “Perfect.” You motioned for Gwaine to follow you and led him to the back where several chairs were set up. You motioned to your chair and Gwaine sat down. Percival sat in a nearby chair and the two whispered quietly among themselves as you gathered everything you were going to need. Walking back to the pair, you nodded at Gwaine, “Alright, shirt off.”

 The man smirked at you, “In a rush to get my clothes off?”

 You smirked back, “Only so I can get you done and out of my shop.” Percival laughed and you winked at Gwaine. He only shook his head as he peeled his shirt off and folded it in his lap. You sat on your stool and wheeled yourself as close to Gwaine as you could get. You set the stencil on his chest and after a few adjustments, you were ready. Gwaine looked down at you as you fired up the tattoo gun and dipped it in the ink. Turning back, you looked up at him, “Ready, pretty boy?”

 He smirked at you, “Oh, so you think I’m pretty?”

 You placed your free hand on his chest as you leaned close to his body, “For now.” You glanced up at him, “You won’t be in a minute though.”

 He chuckled, “Why do you say that?”

 You smirked as you turned back to the task at hand, “No one ever is.” Then you pressed the needle to his skin, seeing him grimace out of the corner of your eye. Percival laughed loudly as you chuckled quietly to yourself. You followed every line with precision, occasionally getting more ink or stopping to wipe the excess and the blood off.

 Gwaine had insisted that it didn’t hurt, but you could see him wince every now and again and he looked more than relieved when you pulled back and announced that he was done. You bandaged him up and went through the care instructions with him, giving him the same package you gave to all your clients with written instructions, extra bandages, a bottle of antimicrobial soap, and a tube of anitbacterial ointment. You had even warned him about the tattoo fever, joking that you would see him again soon. After you settled up and made sure he had no other questions, you sent him on his way, sure he would be calling for another appointment soon.

 Sure enough, Gwaine had returned to the shop shortly after his first tattoo, but it was not for more ink. It was to flirt with you and to ask you on a date. You had been a bit hesitant about getting involved with him, but you figured one date wouldn’t hurt, so you agreed.

 You were wrong though. One date could hurt a lot and it currently did. You had thought that things had gone well, but it had been five days since what you thought was a wonderful night and you still hadn’t heard anything from Gwaine. Not even a single text. It seemed Gwaine had not shared in your feelings and that was hurting you more than you thought it would.

 The bell above the door rang and you looked up to see Percival walking up to the counter. You smiled at him, “Hey. Ready to finish that up?” You gestured to his arm and he nodded, following you into the back. He sat in the chair as you got everything ready. You worked in silence, concentrating on filling in the last of his large bicep tattoo.

 When you finished, Percival looked over your work, “Thanks, Y/N, this is really amazing.”

 You looked away from your tools, “Yeah, it came out really nice.” You smiled at him, “I’ll see you later?” He nodded and stood up, walking towards the front of the shop.

 Then he stopped and walked back over to you, “Actually, Y/N, can you do me a favor?”

 You looked up at him, “Sure, what do you need?”

 Percival sighed, “Don’t write Gwaine off yet.” Shaking your head, you scoffed. Percival held his hand out, “Please, just listen to me-”

 You turned away from him, “I don’t want to talk about Gwaine, Perce.” You finished cleaning your station and then just sat with your hands in your lap. You really didn’t want to talk about Gwaine and especially not with his best friend.

 Percival sighed, “Please, Y/N. He’s an idiot, but… just please.”

 You spun around to look at him, “My mind is open.” You held your arms out to the side as you sighed.

 Percival smiled, “Thank you.” He leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek before waving and leaving the shop. You went back to cleaning everything up, making sure all of the equipment was properly sanitized and everything was back in its place. At some point during your sweep of the shop, your coworkers called out their goodbyes and left.

 You were alone at the counter, working on a few sketches when you had some peace and quiet. Then the bell above the door rang. Strange, you thought you had locked it. Shaking your head, you looked up, “I’m sorry, but we’re closed for the day.” Your eyes met Gwaine’s and you frowned. He moved further into the shop, letting the door fall shut behind him.

 He smiled at you, “You have a minute to talk?” You grabbed all of your papers, pushing them into a messy pile and picking them up.

 You moved around the counter, heading for your bag, “Go on, I guess.” You refused to look at him as you packed up your stuff and slung your jacket over your shoulders.

 Gwaine sighed, “I’m sorry that I didn’t call you when I said I was going to.”

 You turned sharply, “Oh, you’re sorry?” You let out one humorless laugh, “Well that changes everything.”

 Gwaine looked down to his boots, “I know you’re upset, and I deserve all of what you want to dish out,” you nodded and he moved closer, “but I really am sorry and I’m not gonna stand here and give you excuses because there are no excuses for what I did. I’m just gonna say that I felt something real for you and I wasn’t prepared for it.” He looked up at you, “I handled it all wrong and I’m hoping against all hope that you’d be willing to give me a second chance even though I don’t deserve it.”

 You crossed your arms over your chest, staring at the nervous man in front of you, “No, you don’t.” He winced as he looked past you at the shop’s wall. You sighed, “I felt something real for you too, Gwaine.” His eyes snapped back to you, hope building in them. You sighed again, dropping your hands to your sides, “And it hurt when you blew me off.” His eyes turned sad again and he frowned. It was quiet for a few minutes as neither of you could look at the other. Finally, you stepped over to him and placed your hand on his arm, “I appreciate your apology and you’re forgiven.” Gwaine stared at your hand as a small smile broke out on his face. Your hand slid down to grip his and he looked at you. You smiled, “Do you want to go for a coffee?”

 He nodded, “Yes.” Your smile widened as you nodded to the door and the two of you left the shop.

[softbiker]

Steve Rogers Oneshot

Warnings: some strong language, mention of super soldier butts

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: Steve Rogers takes a coffee break. It’s good to try new things.

A/N: This is a continuation of Extra Whip - so I recommend reading that first in order to be familiar with who the reader is! It takes place in the same universe as @kentuckybarnes​ Agent 28 and @nacho-bucky​ Agent 41, with permission from both :) At the moment, my plan for these two is a series of one shots; connected by characters and certain events, but not a strong overarching plot. Let’s keep it fun okay? (Can’t believe I’m posting this before I’ve had my coffee but hey, I’m excited). Enjoy! 

A month goes by.

In missions, gunpowder grit beneath his fingernails; in Stark Foundation fundraisers, his bowtie digging too tight at his neck; in karaoke nights - and avoiding karaoke nights, sneaking up to the roof with Bucky for a smoke. Somehow the habit crept back in, between the two of them.  Deeper than muscle, it’s a bone memory - shoulders pressed together on a fire escape, nostalgic for nicotine and other things that won’t roll into cigarette papers. No one knows about their little habit, except for maybe Nat - who cares less about their upstanding reputations than everyone else, and she’ll even share a pack every once in a while. Steve marvels at cigarettes now, the way he marvels at everything that should’ve killed him before he became a miracle. 

So February passes. He eases up on Health Food Reform, satisfied that the good habits seem to mostly stick. 41 continues to slurp on her spinach milkshakes during briefings, and it brings out his big brother smile every time. Every time he wonders who might have made it for her. 

March blusters in with excessive force, with the wind whipping storms on every front and a crisis on every continent. For the first two weeks of the month, Steve doesn’t set foot at the compound, shuffling between safe houses and sleeping on the quinjet, his neck aching in complaint. The team forgoes their long-anticipated weekend retreat to Tony’s cabin in Aspen in favor of a terror attack in Johannesburg. 

“Man, I was not made for this kind of heat,” Sam mutters, tugging at the harnesses of his uniform as sweat streams down his neck and into his shirt. 

“You would’ve been in the hot tub in Aspen, anyway,” Clint teases, taking stock of his quiver, his words slurred by the bubblegum in his mouth.

“Yeah, with a couple of snow bunnies, that’s for damn sure,” Sam bites back, shoving his goggles into a side pocket on his tac pants. 

“Focus, Sam,” Steve sighs over the comm. He’s got eyes on them - opposite rooftop, approximately 100 feet above the epicenter of the chaos. “The sooner we wrap this up, the sooner you can sit in a jacuzzi with your rabbits.” 

Tony’s laughter over the comm line is so loud, Nat has to remove her earpiece for a full minute. 

“What?” Steve turns to Nat, bewildered. She’s got a white streak of dust in her hair. “What? What did I say?” 

She just shakes her head, taming the curl of her lips with a click of her tongue.

“Nobody tell him,” Tony insists, his voice still a wheeze. “Jesus, I am gonna hold onto that for weeks. That’s going in the digital scrapbook - F.R.I.D.A.Y.?”

“Already saved the audio file, boss.”

Steve just hangs his head, resigned. No chance of living that one down. 

Hours later, they pile into the quinjet in beleaguered pairs, Clint propped on Sam’s arm, 28 with Natasha - both dusty and bruised but no major injuries, followed by Wanda and 41, with Tony bringing up the rear. Steve takes stock with a keen gaze as they trudge up the ramp into the jet, Buck slouched in the seat beside him, his flesh fingers blackened with gunpowder. More than 10 hours on the ground, with thousands of safe civilian lives to show for it - but no arrests had been made, no suspects found, no bad guys to put away. Not today. A stalemate, which Steve hates. He loathes the ambiguity, the loose ends of this job, the way the world can just never stay safe. 

A knee jostles against his own, and he looks over at Bucky; he’s got one eye cracked open, narrow window on a sky blue gaze peering back at Steve. 

“You good, Rogers?” he mutters, lazily rolling his jaw. 

“Me? Yeah, Buck, I’m fine.”

“Uh huh. Well quit grindin’ your teeth like that.” Bucky sighs and lets his eyes slip closed again. “The one thing your ma never had to fix, those damn perfect teeth.”

It draws a dull, tired smile, just like he intended, and Steve elbows Bucky in the ribs - the two of them exchanging a couple of tired blows, before settling into their seats, pressed against each other shoulder to knee, like they’re still trying to fit in a foxhole. Steve takes a little of Bucky’s weight as he leans over to let 28 pass them and settle into a seat across the aisle, buckling herself in and sending a tired smile their way. 

He accepts a Starkpad from Tony as he passes by on his way to the cockpit. A swipe of the screen reveals a face - a white man, late 40’s, dark hair with white streaks at the front. Nothing noticeable about him otherwise. Beneath the face is a name: Israel Hayes. He stands and stalks his way up the aisle of the jet, careful not to disturb any of his sleeping teammates as he follows Tony. The Iron Man suit dissolving back into the nanite housing unit on his chest, Tony is left only in a soft black shirt and pants - he looks vulnerable, small, when Steve leans into the cockpit, his shoulders crowding the space. 

“This our guy?”

“Seems like it. F.R.I.D.A.Y. cross-referenced his known aliases with similar activities in Europe and Asia - but he’s good. Never shown his face good.”

“Not even on CCTV?” Steve quirks a brow.

Tony shakes his head, lips pursed. “Nope. My guess? He’s got some kind of algorithm like the one SHIELD instituted for our agents in the backseat. You know how we never know what a SHIELD agent looks like?” He gestures towards the passengers with his thumb and Steve nods. “Same thing. As soon as his face is captured on a camera, his server finds it and scrubs it clean.”

“That possible? For someone who’s not SHIELD?”

“If he’s got the connections it seems like he has? Then yeah.” Tony huffs out a breath. “Not that I’m worried - F.R.I.D.A.Y. has found smaller needles in bigger haystacks.” 

Steve just nods, staring at the man’s picture on the tablet in his hands. 

He stares at that tablet for days - at briefings, at the picture, at news headlines, at the picture, at a Buzzfeed article comparing his butt with Sam’s and Bucky’s (sent in a text attachment by Sam, accompanied only by the peach emoji), and once more at the picture. 

He stares at it till he sees the man’s face behind his eyelids, till he could sketch it on a napkin without looking. And he does, actually, by accident - in the margins of his notes during a security briefing with Fury, he glances down to find his fingers tracing the deep set of the man’s eyes, the dark shadow of his brows. Algorithm or no, he won’t be able to hide forever. 

It’s the algorithm he’s thinking of as he continues to take his notes in the meeting, the sketch staring up at him in stark blue pen; there’s another face he wanted to look for, more than once he’d decide to search the SHIELD records, before changing his mind - just opening his browser and poising his fingers to start the search has him feeling like a damn creep. Like the internet stalker in that show Wanda was obsessed with. His ma raised a gentleman - there’s no way he was gonna be that guy.

The next morning, Sam begs off on their run, and Bucky is mysteriously absent from his room when Steve knocks, so he goes for his run alone. It’s not so bad - he’s got a fancy pair of headphones that Tony made last Christmas, and he loves watching the sunrise over the city. He even turns and crosses the bridge into Brooklyn, making a lap through Prospect Park before looping back towards Manhattan. Not so bad. Good, even. Really, really good. 

He slows down and stretches in front of the tower, propping his legs up on the bench out front and massaging his calves. There’s a little bit of a burn, but it melts at the pressure of his fingers, and the pleasant kind of soreness settles in. The kind he’s enjoyed and lived in since his body became sturdy and strong and decidedly anti-fragile - he’ll never say it out loud, but he still gets a little thrill when he manages to break a bone or dislocate a shoulder, goosebumps of pain shooting down his spine as he pops them back into place with a grunt of satisfaction. 

Hand hovering over the biometric scanner, he’s about to go back inside, take the elevator up to his room and hit the showers, when he sees someone at the crosswalk just a block down. 

Pink hoodie - huge, practically a dress - with a denim jacket tugged over it, bare legs trailing down into white combat boots, a backpack slung over one shoulder. She spares little more than a glance at the cars along the street before striding forward, nose turned up and arms crossed in a way that’s so New York it makes him do a double take. That early morning pout, tired eyes, like she’s not totally awake yet. Her steps firm and determined in those heavy boots, she makes a beeline for the green siren across the street, never once glancing his direction. 

It’s the first glimpse he’s had of her in a month. 

Not for lack of trying, but have you seen his schedule? He’s barely been stateside at all for nearly 3 weeks. Not to mention that one of Tony’s interns is always eager to volunteer for a coffee run, and he’s not sure what he would say, a good reason for him to insist to go by himself. 

With a glance at his phone - not due for a meeting for 3 more hours - he takes a deep breath and marches down the street, hands in his pockets, shoulders tucked. Less threatening to the passersby, who notice him, but say nothing. They’re in his neighborhood after all. 

A bell chimes above the door when he walks in, and the same “Welcome to Starbucks!” greets him, but he’s only half-listening as he scans the cafe. She’s at the register, chatting with the barista there who hands her a steaming white mug. 

“Ugh, thanks Chase, you’re a lifesaver,” she sighs, taking a sip. 

“Hey, it’s all part of the job,” the barista jokes back, adjusting the cap on his head. He’s noticed Steve hovering 3 feet back, waiting his turn, and his eyes switch between Steve and the girl in front of him rapidly. 

Their conversation ends, and the girl - the agent - takes her coffee to sit at a small table by herself, close to the windows, far enough back in a corner that she has a view of the whole cafe. Which she scans now as she sits, noting the two regulars in the opposite corner enjoying their customary flat whites, and…Captain America.

Interesting. 

She waits - he knows she’s waiting when he approaches the table, and she pretends not to know that he’s walking directly towards her, nose still tucked down towards her book, one hand poised at the handle of her coffee mug. 

He clears his throat. 

“Good morning,” she smiles when she looks up, the light from the window back-lighting her eyes, and the glow stuns him. “Haven’t seen you around for a while.”

“Haven’t been around,” he shrugs. Are his cheeks hot? He gestures towards the chair across from her. “You mind if I sit?”

“Not at all,” she shakes her head. He slides into the seat and she replaces her bookmark, setting the book aside. Valley of the Dolls. He’s not familiar. 

“Here for your morning Cappuccino?” She quirks her eyebrows as her smile stretches, just shy of goofy. Quite proud of herself. 

“Ha ha. Never been a big fan.”

“No?”

He shakes his head. “First thing in the morning? I like a dark roast. Something to really wake you up, you know?”

“Hm,” she muses. “Sure, I understand.” 

“What about you?” 

“Me?” 

“Your coffee, I mean. You, uh…like coffee?” Smooth, Rogers.

“Oh, yeah. Love coffee.” There’s a laugh behind her smile, and he wishes she wouldn’t hold it back. “Here lately, I’ve had a thing for tall blondes.”

The flush on his cheeks inches down his neck.

“Huh?”

“Tall blonde Americano to be specific - you should try the blonde espresso, it’s really good.” She takes a sip of hers, hiding her dimple behind the mug. “And I always add an extra shot. I like ‘em strong.” 

God, even his ears are red, he knows it. The hell did he think he was gonna do when he came in here anyway, sweep her off her feet? He’s never been that good with dames, not even-

“I’m only joking-” she cracks up a little, giggling. “Sorry, the opportunity was too good, I just couldn’t resist.”

He sighs in relief, offers an embarrassed smile, and manages to relax a little in his chair. 

“So…why are you here? Really?” she lifts an eyebrow, leaning one elbow on the table. 

“Well…” and here it is, here goes nothing. “I thought - that is, I wondered, um, if you…might want to…get to know each other a little better.” Ouch. Thank God Bucky is nowhere near here. 

“Get to know each other?” 

“Yeah. Just, I mean, as friends.” 

“Huh.” 

Steve’s smile is sheepish, but it’s the one that always worked on his mother, and it seems to work on her. He can see the suspicion melt from her eyes, the interested quirk of her mouth as her fingers tap against the table. 

“I’m flattered and all, really, but you should know that virtually everything you could want to ask me about…my past, my qualifications, my education, my current assignment-” she lifts her hands in a helpless gesture. “It’s all classified. Probably above even your clearance.” 

“Classified?”

“There’s a reason why we never met, Captain.” He takes comfort in the fact that her smile is a little rueful. 

“Oh.” He sits back in his chair, a thoughtful frown on his lips. Looks out the window at passing traffic as he thinks. 

“Alright, then - how about a recommendation?” he turns back to her, eyes lit with curious confidence that catches her off guard. 

“A recommendation?” she repeats, bemused. 

“Coffee,” he grins, like it’s obvious, a wry quirk to his brows. 

“Coffee,” she echoes again, chewing her lip as she returns his smile. 

“Yeah - I always get the same thing,” he shrugs, eyes dancing. “Figured maybe I should branch out.”

Something she can tell him. Something they can share. 

A quick glance at her watch - 20 minutes before she has to clock in. 

“Alright then.” She stands from her seat, cracking her knuckles. “You wait here - I’m gonna pop behind the bar and make you something.”

He watches as she crosses the cafe, rounds the bar and gets to work whipping up…something. The steamer hisses as the milk is foamed, espresso grinding, and he can see her reach for some kind of syrup to pump into the cup. It only takes a minute or so before she’s done, returning with the cup presented triumphantly to him. The name “Cap” is scrawled on the front of the cup. 

“What is it?” 

“Just taste it first.”

The burst of caramel sweetness on his tongue nearly makes him gag - it’s a lot, whatever this drink is. It’s practically a dessert. Not bad, but he’s not sure how anyone could drink this in the morning. When he says so, she laughs out loud, head tipping back and mouth wide open. 

“I make those for 41 all the time,” she grins. “It’s not an official menu drink - I invented it for her.”

“Yeah I can see this being her drink.” 

“Oh, and when you go back to the tower, will you take her these?” She hands him a pastry bag. “I know they’re her favorite, and we had some that were about to expire.

He glances in the bag - two cookie dough cake pops and one birthday cake.

“I guess it’s not just Clint that spoils her, huh?” 

Across the table, she just smiles and shrugs. 

“I’m just here to make coffee.”

He takes another sip of the sugary concoction. 

“Sure.” 

[yukiobeyme]

Hi! I saw your hc of the brothers reacting to a mc playing the harp. Do you think you could do hc with an skilled painter mc too? I study art, but due to a depressive episode i stoped painting, i started painting again a few days ago and remembered how much i enjoy it. Maybe due to the studys of the devildom she didnt have time for a while? Its ok if you dont want to or feel uncomfortable:)

Sorry, it took forever but hopefully, this suffices. It’s the longest thing I have ever written for Obey Me (5.6k words) The picture that is included is drawn by me, which is a painting that is featured in Detroit Become Human. It was in chapter 6 for Marcus, and the painting is human- hope. So, yea I hope you all enjoy and it’s just as good as the harp fic I did.

This is also like how the brothers try to help you with depression too because I need it lol. The first half is them noticing that you aren’t doing art anymore then you randomly paint then its the brother’s reaction though I don’t know if their reaction is long enough.

I am behind on requests but feel free to send stuff, I’m doing online classes so I have more free time and on my computer constantly. I think I’m finally gonna catch up on everything.

Trigger Warning for Depression and not necessarily Eating Disorder Otherwise Nonspecific but MC struggles to eat while depressed. 

 Art was something you always did. It was started as an innocent hobby, then you started to doodle on your assignments and notes. If there were paper and pencil around, there was bound to be one of your drawings on it eventually. In high school, you decided to take Art as your elective of choice, and during that time you learn what your favorite medium was and what your art style is. You found out you like paints the most; acrylics were the easiest for you, it was the most forgiving of the paints, watercolor you loved but it took work and concentration to do, and oil paint you practiced loved to hate. Oil was always so hard to work with, at first you always overworked the paint and left it looking dull and sad looking, but you were determined to get it right. Your final project was a huge oil painting, you took your time to plan and layout that painting. The topic you chose was the fall of angels, which you didn’t know much about. You knew about the Celestial Realm and Devildom, everyone does but it’s not like humans can walk freely in either of the realms. You debated back and forth if you should do a generic angel or if you should have more fun with it and recapture the fall of a true angel. Your research led you to learn about six brothers that fell around the same time. You recognized the first name easily, Lucifer; he was prideful and what everyone refers to the most powerful demon. He fell from Heaven after he became so impressed with his own beauty, intelligence, power, and position that he began to desire for himself the honor and glory that belonged to God alone. This pride represents the actual beginning of sin in the universe—preceding the fall of the human Adam by an indeterminate time. The other names, Mammon, Leviathan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, and Belphegor didn’t seem to ring any bells, but you took the time to try and research each on. You decided to capture all their falls in one painting, they fell in the order of power. Lucifer would be the furthest one down the canvas and that’s why Belphegor would be at the top still within the clouds. The painting ended up looking amazing and still hangs on the wall in your living room, it was the first decoration piece you ever put up.

Fast forward to when you were whisked away to Devildom to be an exchange student. They were nice enough to give you time to pack things, only 15 minutes to pack a year's worth of things. You grabbed random clothes and stuffed them in a bag, you grabbed your favorite stuff animal and went immediately went to your desk where you kept all your painting supplies. You made sure to grab as many different colors as possible, all different brush sizes and your two sketches that could handle the paint medium. You decided to grab your phone and its charger though you knew it probably wouldn’t work in Devildom. With one last glance around your house, you paused and looked at the oil painting before telling the demon that you were ready to start this adventure.

Much to your surprise, you were met with faces that were familiar. Though it wasn’t because you had met them before rather it was because you studied their faces and bodies to paint them. You were flushed the whole time they introduced themselves and was even more flustered when you realized you would be living with them for the next year. If they noticed, they didn’t say much about it. You knew they noticed your stares though. You were studying their faces, trying to recall if you captured them right, if your references were accurate or not.

You tried to do some form of art every day, from doodles or painting. Usually, you would sketch something during your breaks and paint them once you were back at the House of Lamentation. The brothers knew you painted but you always requested to be left alone. This was the time you played the music you wanted and get lost in the brush strokes. It was your stress release, something you found joy in, the way you reconnected with your body.

But within a month of being an exchange student, your RAD work piled up and instead of sketching during breaks you had to start studying and doing work to ensure you stayed on top of everything. The mix of stress and not taking care of yourself led you down a spiraling depression. You gave up painting and daily self-care was sparse and very little. You stayed up late and woke up early to get as much work done as possible, food was on the small side and on the go food.

You had gone shopping with Asmodeus and grabbed canvases, the now gathered dust in the corner of your room. Somewhere still blank and others left unfinished, but you could never push yourself to pick up your paintbrushes. Sometimes you would pull out all your material and just sit and stare at the canvas until you gave up and left it alone. Soon the brothers decided to make a schedule so that you never alone and offer you different types of support that were unique to them. They never pushed you to pick up painting again, though they tried to encourage it and encourage you to take care of yourself.

Lucifer:

Lucifer noticed how your habits changed, while he never saw your finished art pieces, he saw bits and pieces. He noticed that you like to draw what was around you, he had seen you draw the RAD, the House of Lamentation, and even sketches of his brothers and himself. When you stopped drawing in the morning, he just figured you weren’t as inspired, but then the dark circles under your eyes formed, skipping meals or eating too little, and how you sometimes drifted in class.

He thought it should be his job to help you, but he didn’t know how. For the first time in centuries, he felt powerless. He decided whenever you skipped meals, he would find ways to get you to eat. In the morning if you skipped breakfast, he grabbed a fruit and a granola bar to hand to you. Or when you skipped dinner, he brought the food to wherever you were studying. He made the time to sit with you, while you ate, bringing work of his own to do. He would try to brush off as he simply wanted to work in a different area when in reality, he wanted to make sure you ate.

Finally, Lucifer would ask if you had drawn or painted recently. Your grimace told him everything, “No, I haven’t been inspired recently,” you shrugged it off hoping he would drop it. But instead, he poked and tried to get more information from you. You broke after a while spilling all the struggles you have been facing and how the stress-induced depression, you assured him you been through it before and you would be fine but right now it just felt like loneliness and darkness.

While Lucifer didn’t show it, it broke his heart to hear you say that. He figured you were stressed, and you seemed down, but he didn’t know it was too this magnitude. He did his best to support and encourage you in any way he could, hoping that it would help somehow. He offered to tutor you and help you with homework in hopes to lighten your load. He knew he should tell Diavolo, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. This felt too intimate to disclose to him, he felt happy and privileged that you shared it with him, and he didn’t want to break that. At least you were talking to someone.

Mammon:

Mammon was oblivious to how your schedule and habits changed. It wasn’t until Beelz mentioned that he hadn’t seen you eat yet today during lunch. Then it clicked how he hadn’t seen you as much or rather how he had to seek you out constantly to get the attention he deserved from you.

He started to pay more attention to you and something seemed missing from your stack of books but could never place it until he came to your room and say your sketchbook on the floor under all your books. It clicks he doesn’t remember the last time he saw you drawing or doodling.

He then noticed your tired eyes, your slow-moving, and you did skip a lot of meals or at very little. He totally increased how much he spent with you, even when you claimed to have too much work to do. He would simply sit at your feet and lean against you. You would occasionally drop your hand down and play with his hair. You noticed the increase of affection and time he spent with you and at first, you were annoyed with it but soon you enjoyed the quiet company. Once Mammon saw you were happy to have him around, he started talking to you about his random schemes; which never failed to make you smile and laugh. He soon made it his goal to make sure you were always laughing and smiling, he never wanted it to stop.

You didn’t disclose everything to Mammon, but you talked about your feelings to him. In some ways it was hard not too, having him so close but you couldn’t help but feel vulnerable. He comforted you to the best of his ability, sometimes he said the wrong things, but he tried and attempted to fix it.

He would surprise you with small gifts, one day at lunch he managed to get a yakisoba bread and you were surprised when he offered you the whole thing instead of just wanting to split it. You offered to split it with him and you wouldn’t take no for an answer. You both ate you halves outside, and you couldn’t help but cuddle up against him. When you finished your food, you gave Mammon a peak of the cheek. He flushed immediately and you hooked your arms together and walked to class with him. Needless to say, he bragged about it to the brother’s group chat and he was made fun of because of how he blushed for the rest of the day.

Leviathan:

Noticed the symptoms immediately, he had been through similar things. That there were times he stopped video games and anime or stopped finding the enjoyment from it. Though because he was constantly in his room, no one would notice.

He simply offered you silent support, making sure you were never alone or in one place for too long. He would try to drag you away for a quick game or anime or watch him play a game. You finally asked why he was spending more time with you and he would bashfully say while he didn’t know how you felt, he felt like he had been through similar things. It broke your heart to hear that and you pulled him into a tight hug. Later that night, you went to his room bringing tea for both of you and you both stayed up way too late talking to each other. It seemed like talking about it help life some of the pressure off you.

He said his door was always open to you, and while you didn’t always take him up on it, you occasionally when to study and watch him play whatever game he was currently playing. It was nice to have his company, even if you didn’t talk, it was comforting to be in the company that understood your feelings.

During class, he sat to your left while Beelz sat to your right. Levi made sure to nudge you if your attention seemed to diverge from the lecture and always offer you his notes if you missed anything. He also showed you places to hide in RAD, if you wanted to hide during lunch but his only request was you took food and ate it. He said he would prefer to hang out as well but respected your privacy if you truly wanted to be alone.

Would try and encourage you to paint or draw again. Asking you to draw him some character from his games or anime. You occasionally you would indulge in drawing whatever he wanted. Overall, Levi was your quiet support and you were grateful for it, to be able to sit in quiet and not to be asked what is wrong or must talk was a perfect escape sometimes.

 Satan:

He was worried about you, he offered to take you to the library for a new place to study. He would read your textbooks to you. He would read it whether you were in his room, the library, or curled up on his bed. Though most times if he read to you on his bed, you would drift off to sleep listening to his voice. He would always smile whenever you managed to fall asleep, it comforted him that he was able to help you fall asleep.

Satan would find books about depression, but he was uncertain because it sounded to clinically and he doubted that it was really like how the book described. Though he continued to research, trying to find out ways to support you. Online forums and talking to the brothers about the things they were doing and what seemed to help you.

He would stumble sometimes but you couldn’t help but feel touched he tried so hard. When you say the help guide and books he had, you cried. You couldn’t believe someone would care this much about you and want to help you. He was there to comfort you and once you calmed down you thanked him and laugh, “I was wondering why your actions seemed straight from a self-help book, Thank you,” you kissed him on the cheek and gave up studying for the day to hang out and cuddle with him. He would ask what he could do to help, what things he did that helped or hurt you. You would drift off to sleep with a smile on your face.

When you weren’t reading together and Satan would play drama, especially Korean Dramas, something you introduced to him. He would play your favorite one, the one you have already watched together and that you have seen a million times, but still loved it and reacted to the story every time. Sometimes Satan would quote the show and act dramatically to make you smile and laugh.

But there were hard times with Satan, he was the Avatar of Wrath, after all, he would get annoyed at the situation, but never at you. He always made sure that you knew that, though occasionally he would say something that he would immediately apologize for it. He tells you; he feels worthless and helpless. He wanted to help you and make it all better, but he knew that isn’t how it works.

Asmodeus:

Much like Mammon, offered you comfort and affection. Whisking you away to get the newest coffee or tea at the café, shopping, bubble baths, and doing skincare with him. While you tried to protest, he was consistent, and most times was a success. He starts to offer to go the café to study for a change of scenery, offering to quiz you while you took the bubble bath, or doing face masks that you could put on and study for a bit while it dried.

“Stress isn’t good for your skin. Neither is not sleeping,” Asmodeus would tell you pointedly.

Never directly asked what was wrong, but constantly reminded you he was there for you if you ever needed him or wanted to talk. While you didn’t to it often, instead of talking to him you would seek him out to cuddle and of course, he never denied it. It was a guaranteed break for you and most times you fell asleep.

Whenever he took you shopping, he would drag you to the art store encouraging to buy art supplies, he ended up buying you new paintbrushes, paint, and canvas. Telling you there wasn’t any rush to paint anything, but it would just be there in case you hit inspiration. He would always joke that you could paint him or “paint him like a French girl,” and would flash you a cheeky grin. You would laugh and shove his shoulder.

Sat behind you in most of your class and whenever he had the change, he would give you affection. He would pass you notes constantly, sometimes it was drawings of his own. Sometimes they were beautiful and amazing other times he drew funny sketches. You quickly found out who drew Lucifer riding the unicorn and Diavolo in the dress. The funny sketches also included exaggerated drawings of the teachers or his brothers, which was so hard not to laugh in class so you could only turn around and glare at him, that didn’t last long before you broke out into a smile and shook your head at him.

Beelzebub:

Noticed you lack interest of food and lack of eating immediately. Was constantly bring you snacks and sharing them with you. He sometimes was sneaky with it, dropping it off fruit slices and sitting it beside you and leaving. Then coming back later to see the empty plate and he was beaming. Would study with you and sat near you in class, whenever he pulled out a snack, he would set it in between you, in hopes you would snack on his food.

Whenever it was his turn to cook, he would find out your favorite comfort food; whether it was something from Devildom or Human food. Trying to make sure the food was as appetizing as possible and mouth-watering in hopes to entice you.

Would always be proud whenever you ate and encouraged yourself to be a glutton sometimes. Beelzebub was also your teddy bear, always down to engulf you in a hug and study with you occasionally. He would also tell you stories and memories about Lilith, times in the Celestial Realm, or random memories that were simply used as a distraction or calm you down when you got too tense about your schoolwork.

Beelzebub would also be the one that read you bedtime stories when you couldn’t sleep, it always made you laugh. He would do the voices and everything, as you cuddle against him. It became a normal thing to wake up to see Beelzebub leaning against you bed, he would admit he was checking on you during the middle of the night and decided to stay just in case you needed him.

He always checked up on you and while he was the Avatar of Gluttony, he indulged you in other things than food. He gave you a lot of praise and even small trinkets he found while he was out shopping.

He was just always there for you and he had his alerts on specifically for you. He would always reply with lightning speed. He was also the one that came up with the idea to not let you be alone too long and create the shifts between the brothers. While it was annoying in some ways you couldn’t help but feel touched by their efforts

Belphegor:

Consistently offered and told you take a break and naps. He would drag you to the planetarium to study and while he offered to study with you, he would end up dozing off at some point. It always made you smile. You would go snag his blanket and tuck him in.

He would constantly wrap you up in blankets and cling to you like a koala, trying to make sure you were as comfortable as possible as you study. He even would offer you to use his pillow that he carried around. While you were hesitant, but you adored how Belphegor smelled and often found comfort in that. He would be able to help you learn about the stars and constellations. He could talk forever about it and often did. He knew all the stories behind them, what they looked like and could point them out.

Sometimes you would count the stars with him to fall asleep. Belphegor was known to tuck you in, he would kiss you on your forehead and whenever he found you asleep, he would join you. It was the simple things that made you feel a little better and loved. Never forced you to talk about anything, but whenever he noticed you were staring off into space, he would begin to ramble about everything and anything. Trying to ground you and bring you back to the present.

He knew where to find you whenever you couldn’t sleep, and you weren’t in your room and he told the other brothers but always told them he would go and comfort and hang out with you. You were in the planetarium, it where he went when he couldn’t sleep or felt restless. He would sit beside you and sit in silence, he usually had a blanket to drape over the both of you. You would lean again him and rest his head on your shoulder, bringing in his smell and feel some of your tensions melt away.

Finally, one random day, you had inspiration hit you. Asmodeus had bought you a canvas and it was huge, and you knew the painting had to be just right. You decided to paint it outside, thinking maybe getting some vitamin D would help as well. You gathered your art stuff before you headed out. You ran into Satan as you made your way outside, you flashed him a shy smile and he offered to help you carry out your things. You were in the garden and you slowly set up; Satan helped you set up before disappearing. You grabbed your pencil and started to sketch out your painting. You heard someone approaching you and it was Satan though he was carrying a book before finding a place to sit near you in the shade. You gave him a soft smile before you went back to work. Before you knew it, you were loaded up your pallet with all different colors and started to paint. You allowed yourself to get lost in the painting. Letting your mind go blank and allowing your hand to take over the paint strokes. You didn’t notice the crowd that gathered behind you, you were completely lost in the joy of the painting. Your smile only continued to go the more and more you painted, you remembered how much you loved painting; the tension in your shoulders started to release and you felt renewed. Once you were finished you stepped back to see the painting in the full picture. You looked behind you to see all the brothers behind you, looking at your painting.

“It’s beautiful,” Satan said setting his book down and the other brothers nodded in agreement.

“Thank you… for everything,” you started and continued when you saw the brothers confused looks, “For supporting me and reminding me to take care of myself,” you flashed all of them a small smile.

“It’s inspired by all of you. That you reached out to me and reminded me of the hope that it gets better, even if it takes a while or doesn’t feel like it ever would.” All the brothers looked touched, but your words and it was Beelz that pulled you into a hug first. Soon you were getting hugs from all the brothers except Lucifer who gave a nod, you knew that later in private you would get a quick hug from him later.

Lucifer:

Lucifer had a sense of pride in seeing you paint again. Seeing you so engrossed in your work and how confidently your paint strokes were. He loved watching how the colors swirled together and how the painting slowly came to life. He realized he could watch you paint all day; he would later ask if you were willing to paint him something for his office. He would let you in his office and look around to get an idea of the mood of the room and how much space you had to work with. When you finished the painting, Lucifer hung it up almost immediately. He whenever he was stressed and tense, he would find himself looking at it, following the swirls of the colors to calm himself.

He also adored to indulge you in more expensive paints, which always took your breath away. He would allow you in his office to paint if you wanted. Most times Lucifer was working on papers, but occasionally he would play the piano, soft melodies that were soothing. It became a tradition that once a week, you would go to his office to paint or draw. Asking his opinions on sketches and if you should follow through with them or change it up.

Mammon:

He was taken back by how beautiful you looked as you painted. You were so carefree and happy; it took his breath away. He watched how your body moved as you painted, how smooth and elegant it looked. It was angelic, he was the only brother that dared to approach you; he would sit down on the grass and watch you.

He never formally requested any paintings from you, but you ended up painting him something anyway. You bought a copy of the magazine he was on the cover of and recreated it for him to hang up in his room. He was speechless when you gave it to him, you decided to do it more of an abstract with lots of colors. He hung it up on his wall and whenever he looked at it, he would smile and blush, it seemed so intimate that you painted him. That you probably spend a lot of time looking at his face to recreate it. He was greedy and craved watching you paint; for some reason, it was soothing for him and it made you happy so in turn, it made him happy.

Leviathan:

He watched in amazement, seeing you so shy and in a shy to being confident and standing tall. HE was in awe; his mouth fell open at some point. He felt like a child again, recalling how he has memories of having similar reactions when Lucifer did things. He followed you paint strokes, watching the painting come to life. When you turned around, he gave you the biggest smile, he was so happy to see you so passionate and happy with your work.

Even though the memory of being chased by Henry 1.0 was fresh in your mind, you decided to recapture him for Levi. So he could always have him hanging in his room. Levi was speechless when he saw it, he would whisper thank you to you. His smile made it so worth it.

Satan:

He found it super important to text his brothers that you were painting in the garden or about to start. The chat blew up with excitement. He grabbed a random book; he had no intention to read the book, but he didn’t want you to think he was staring at you. He sat underneath the trees near you and opened the book and started to pretend to read. He was amazing and honored that he could watch the full process of watching your painting coming to life. From the rough sketch, then the base paint, and then watching you add more and more color. When he saw his brothers come out, he raised one finger to his lips, to ensure they stayed quiet.

He didn’t ask you to paint him anything but asked if he could watch you occasionally. Which you mostly agreed to, though with more intimate projects you would tell him next time. You ended up painting himself something anyways. It was an old-world map, Fra Mauro map. It was made in Italy and even included the Garden of Eden. When he first saw it, he was speechless, he was excited though. This painting would go so well in his room, it matches the old-world library setting he had in his room. He was even more excited because he has a book about old-world maps that Fra Mauro is featured in it. The hug he pulled you into took your breath away, but you felt so happy because of his reaction.

Asmodeus:

Asmodeus was excited to see you painting again. He would be lying if he said it wasn’t attractive to watch you get lost in your art. While he was watching you paint, he couldn’t stop thinking about what other things you could paint and wondered if you would be okay with painting him like a French girl. Soon he disregarded the thoughts and simply appreciate the art in front of him, though he decided that you were really the masterpiece here.

Instead of painting Asmodeus a picture on canvas, you asked him to take off his shirt and lay down on his bed. You had brought your paints and paint brushed, while he was confused, he complied.

“This is going to be cold, sorry,” you gave him a heads up before you painted the stroke on his back. Asmodeus love it, you were turning him into a piece of your art. It felt intimate and precious. Though it was cold, and he complained and shivered, he was excited to see the final product.

Once you were done, you took a picture of your painting on his and yours D.D.D. You told him you combined two of your favorite paintings by Vincent Van Gogh, Starry Night but instead of the yellow stars, it was Van Gogh’s sunflowers.

 Beelzebub:

He was the most excited out of the brothers, he was so happy to see you painting again. Seeing it come to life right in front of him, gave him a new appreciation for art. He could have watched you paint forever, you looked so carefree and relaxed. He didn’t know how much he missed your smile. After you were done and the painting was dried, he would ask if he could trace the colors. He would pull you into a huge hug and spin you around, making you cling onto him and laughing.

Beelz would ask instead of painting him something if you could have a paint night with him. You decided to pull up a Bob Ross video and follow it together. The results were dramatic, yours look close to Ross’ but had your unique style, while Beelz tried his hardest and it did resemble the reference paint. You started to giggle at his painting and before you knew it, Beelz took his extra paint and flung it at you. You let out a shriek before joining in, in the end, you both ended up covered in paint and laughing at each other.

 Belphegor:

Belphegor was napping when his D.D.D started going off like crazy, he was annoyed until he saw that it was about you were about to paint. It gave him a jolt of energy to rush out to the garden. He was the last brother to get there. Standing behind you, he watched how your brush danced across the page and how your body swayed. You seem in your element and lost in your work. It was so relaxing to watch you paint, how the colors swirled together and just seeing how relaxed and happy you were seemed to rub off on him.

You knew you didn’t have to paint Belphie anything, but you couldn’t help yourself. You knew exactly what you wanted to draw anyways. You set up in the Planetarium and went to work to capture the sky above you. Belphie ended up joining you, he grabbed his blanket and sat behind you before curling up and watching you paint. It wasn’t long before you heard his soft snores behind him. You chuckled at him before going back to work. When you were finished you saw he was still asleep, you couldn’t help yourself. You crept near him with a paintbrush in hand and touched his cheek with it. He woke up immediately due to the cold paint, you soon were fighting over the paintbrush. You didn’t stand a chance against him, once he had the paintbrush in hand, he gave your cheek the same treatment. You both began to laugh and once you had calmed down, you showed him the painting you did for him. He pulled you into a hug, rubbing his painted cheek against yours to smear the paint even more.

When it was time for you to leave Devildom, you gave the brothers the painting. They tried to refuse but you wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“Please, it’s a way for you to remember me. You inspired me to do and it’s a reminder to have hope that I’ll be back soon,” you told them a little teary-eyed. You knew you were going to miss all of them so much, but you had a renew sense and passion for painting and the brothers and Devildom has inspired a lot more pieces as soon as you got back to Earth.

[dragonsaphirareads]

Passing Notes

Day 13 of @tsshipmonth2020 Fluffuary

Ship: Intrulogical

AU: High School

Word Count: 3312

Summary: Logan takes an elective science course his senior year, and ends up sitting next to his friend’s crude, immature brother who insists on passing him notes every class period. Eventually, Logan realizes the hidden message he’d been missing.

(Like listening to podfics? You can listen to this oneshot on my YT channel here!)

“I still can’t believe you took a science class instead of a free period! You’re such an overachieving nerd!” Roman exclaimed as they stood around Logan’s locker. Patton elbowed him in the side as Logan rolled his eyes.

“He’s allowed to do whatever he wants with his schedule!” Patton defended.

“I know, but we could have all had free time together! And now we’re split!” Roman whined. Logan wasn’t fazed, all too used to his dramatics at this point.

“We already spend hours together after school for drama, I think you’ll survive an hour and a half free period without me.” Logan said, checking his written schedule once more for the room number before slamming his locker shut. “But if you truly want to see me more, I’m sure you could go get your schedule changed.”

Roman shook his head a little too quickly while making a face, and the other two snickered at him. Patton glanced at the clock hanging in the hall and frowned. “You’d better get going Lo, you’re gonna be late!”

Logan checked and nodded. “You’re right. I’ll see you two after school.” They waved as he headed off towards the science hallway, thankfully arriving with a few minutes to spare.

Every spot at the lab tables had a small slip of paper folded into a tent on it, and looking closer he saw they were name tags. Right, he’d heard that this teacher was a fan of arranged seating charts, especially at the beginning of a new semester. He found his name and was thankful that it was at the front of the room. Sitting in the back made it harder to focus, mostly because the students sitting back there didn’t usually care to be in class.

He took his seat and set down his notebook and pencil case, as well as the script for the spring musical that he still needed to read through. As other students came into the room, he flipped it open and skimmed the first few pages.

A minute later, the bell rang and the teacher walked into the room, welcoming them and introducing himself. Then, as he was passing out copies of the syllabus, the door opened and a disheveled, very familiar face waltzed in.

“Sorry I’m late!” He announced, and the teacher just sighed, shaking his head.

“Just... take your seat, please.” He told him, pointing at the only open seat... right next to Logan. The young man grinned, happily bouncing over to him and slamming his stuff down on the table. “Quietly, Remus.”

“My bad!” Remus sung, not at all apologetic. He then turned to Logan, still with that wide, slightly unhinged grin. “Hi Logan! Didn’t know you were taking this class!”

“Hello, Remus.” Logan greeted neutrally, suddenly feeling a small pang of regret at not taking that free period after all.

He wasn’t exactly strangers with Remus, but he wasn’t close to him either. Their interactions boiled down to the few times he and Patton hung out at Roman’s house and Remus was there. Roman didn’t exactly get along well with his twin, so he tended to spend time with his friends elsewhere.

As such, Logan didn’t know much about Remus. He knew he was loud and crude, disruptive in class, extremely creative with his language, and he was friends with Virgil and Ernest, two other seniors who were part of the drama department.

Logan wondered if the teacher had possibly placed them at the same table for a reason, since Logan was an “overachieving teacher’s pet”, according to Roman. Perhaps he thought he might be able to encourage Remus to focus.

Unlikely, considering the other kid had already pulled out his notebook and started doodling. Logan shrugged. If he was drawing, he would at least be quiet. He opened his own notebook, making notes of anything important the teacher said about assignment deadlines or test dates, ignoring the loud scratching of Remus’s pencil beside him.

That is, until there was a loud rip of paper and a moment later, something hit Logan’s elbow. He stared at it curiously, then up at Remus who had gone back to his doodling, a corner of his notebook paper conspicuously missing.

Logan grabbed it and put it in front of him, debating whether or not to open it or just throw it away. Either way, he would save it for the end of class. He wouldn’t let Remus distract him.

Two more folded paper pieces hit him over the course of the class period, and each time Logan took it and placed it carefully in the pile in front of him. He could feel Remus getting frustrated at him, but he didn’t let that bother him.

Once the bell finally rang and class was over, Logan stuffed the notes in his pocket to deal with at a later time. He grabbed his things and left the classroom while Remus was called aside by the teacher, heading to his locker.

Roman and Patton met him there, having already gotten their stuff from their own lockers.

“So!” Roman said, leaning against the neighboring locker smugly. “How was your class?”

“...Interesting. Were you aware that Remus was taking the same class?” Logan asked, and Roman blinked.

“Huh? No? Wait, he is? Are you sure it wasn’t someone who just looked like him?”

Logan rolled his eyes. “You two are identical twins, Roman. I’m very familiar with what you look like, and I had a very close view because the teacher put him next to me.”

“Aww shit, that sucks! I’m so sorry Lo, was he annoying?”

“Well, he was quiet, for the most part. He did keep passing me these notes, though.”

Patton tilted his head, curious. “Notes? What do they say?”

“Probably something gross.” Roman grumbled.

Logan pulled the ripped pieces out of his pocket, holding them in his palm. “I didn’t read them during class, so I’m not sure what they say.”

His friends each grabbed one, unfolding them as Logan finished packing his backpack. When he pulled it out of his locker and turned back, they both had odd looks on their faces. “What’s wrong?”

“Um, well... there’s nothing written on them!” Patton said, trying to be chipper. Roman rolled his eyes, showing Logan the paper.

On it was a pencil sketch of... something. Logan couldn’t actually tell what it was supposed to be - some kind of catlike creature, maybe? But it also had fins like a fish, and horns...

“Hmm.” Logan hummed, and Roman crumpled the piece in his hand, huffing.

“What the hell?! He’s so weird, you should just toss ‘em Lo, don’t encourage him by taking them.”

“Maybe you could just tell him to keep them? They are well drawn, he should draw them in a sketchbook so he can look back at them!” Patton suggested.

Logan shrugged, shoving his own shred of paper back into his pocket while Roman wasn’t looking. Sure, the drawings were strange, and they didn’t seem to be based in any kind of reality, but they were fascinating all the same. It was clear Remus had a talent for drawing - the shading on the horned cat/fish creature made it look almost real.

“We should be going - Mr. Sanders wanted us to be there early today.” Logan changed the topic, and thankfully his friends allowed it. The three of them walked down to the auditorium together, quickly forgetting about Remus and his strange behavior.

All of them except for Logan, who couldn’t quite push from his mind the excited, child-like glee in Remus’s eyes when he had passed that first note across the table.

~

It became a routine after a while. Logan would go to his fourth hour class, Remus would come in late and immediately start drawing in his notebook, occasionally passing the notes to Logan, who would stash them in his pocket. He didn’t throw them away - as disturbing as some of the sketches could be, Logan could tell that Remus wasn’t trying to gross him out. What he did want though, he wasn’t entirely sure.

He wasn’t sure, that is, until Logan was sitting backstage one day watching the actors run through the show and he pulled out one of the notes to examine it. It was some kind of tentacled monster, most likely inspired by their recent lectures about deep sea life. Again, Logan had to marvel at the technical skill behind it. Both of the Prince twins were incredibly talented, apparently, because Roman had his art hanging up all over his room and had been displayed in the school several times as well.

Something shifted behind him, and a voice spoke beside his head. “Is that Remus’s?”

Logan jumped, folding the note quickly and turning to look at who had snuck up on him. Ernest, the head of costume design, who had a knowing smile on his face.

“What did you say?” Logan asked, playing dumb. He was a little embarrassed to be caught staring at the note, even though logically he knew he had no reason to be. Ernest rolled his eyes, pointing at the crumpled piece of paper in his hand.

“That note. It’s from Remus, right?”

The stage manager quickly glanced out on stage, gauging where his friends were. He really didn’t want either of them to walk in on this conversation, especially since they had advised him to simply get rid of the sketches. Thankfully, neither of them would be on his side of the stage for a while. Logan sighed.

“Yes, it is. He’s been giving them to me during class. I’m not certain why, though.”

The costume designer snickered. “Maybe he wants to impress you with his incredible drawing skills.” He said sarcastically.

Logan slipped the note back into his pocket. “Well, they are incredible, in a technical sense. He has a very impressive grasp of anatomy and shading.” He tried to speak neutral about it, lest Ernest get the wrong idea.

The other hummed. “I wouldn’t know. He doesn’t show his drawings to anyone.”

At that, Logan furrowed his eyebrows. “What? But he’s been doing this for nearly a month now... and I never asked for him to show me his drawings.”

Ernest pressed his lips together tightly, but it wasn’t out of anger. There was something else behind it... “I dunno, Logan... you’re smart, I’m sure you can figure out what’s going on in his weird little head.”

“But you’re his friend, aren’t you?”

He laughed, walking away. “You think he tells me anything?”

Logan huffed, turning back to what was happening on stage. He did know - he had to know. Ernest was acting too suspicious to not know what was going on in his friend’s head. But clearly, he wasn’t going to tell him.

He tried to put it out of his head, but something was bothering him. Ernest had known the sketch was Remus’s, which told him that he must have seen Remus’s drawings at least a few times in order to recognize it. But if Remus was as secretive as he sounded with his sketches, then that would be difficult.

So maybe he wasn’t that secretive. Even so, there was something weird about what had been happening every time they were in class. He wasn’t an artist, but he knew Roman, and he knew that Roman was protective of his sketchbook, and almost never ripped anything out of it. If he did draw something for someone else, it was on a dedicated page that he tore out.

He threaded his fingers through his hair, frustrated. It didn’t make any sense, but then again, Remus had never made much sense to him.

Tomorrow he had science. He vowed that he would watch Remus a little closer, to try and figure out why he was exhibiting this extremely odd behavior.

~

Logan got to class early, pulling out a book and skimming it as he watched other students filter into the classroom. Then, for the first time since the beginning of the semester, Remus actually arrived three minutes before the bell rang.

As always, the other student shot a wide, toothy smile his way before cracking open his notebook, noticeably thinner than it had been a month ago, and sketching immediately.

Logan watched him out of the corner of his eye, just in case Remus noticed what he was doing, and what he was seeing didn’t make any sense.

For his sketch, Remus didn’t start with any kind of skeleton or outline, which Logan would have expected. Instead, he drew a distinct shape, and was working out from there. But it wasn’t a circle or square, like he would have thought..

It was a heart?

Logan eventually abandoned his facade of reading as he watched Remus draw, expanding the heart into a head shape, adding too many eyes and a wild mane that masked the starting shape.

By the time he was done and tearing out the drawing, it was fifteen minutes into class and Logan had done nothing but stare at Remus’s hand as he drew. He had to force himself to look forward as Remus folded it and tossed it his way, immediately starting another. Once again, he began with a heart, but this time it was much smaller and ended up turning into a nose.

Why was he drawing hearts? Was that just a part of his drawing process, or was there something more to it? Did it have to do with how he would tear out every drawing and give it to him?

Should Logan respond, now that he knew this? Remus had been giving him these notes for over a month now, and he’d never said a word. Would it be rude to mention it now, especially since he’d only noticed it because he was watching over his shoulder?

He couldn’t tell his friends. Roman didn’t like his brother and Patton was wary of him as well. And he didn’t know Virgil or Ernest well enough to approach them with something as big as this, although he had a feeling they were both in on whatever game Remus was playing.

While he was pondering, the bell rang and he broke out of his trance to see Remus bouncing out of the classroom, with three more folded notes sitting in front of him. Logan shook his head, blinking rapidly to wake himself up. As he was gathering his things, he heard the teacher call his name. “Hm? Y-Yes?”

The teacher’s eyes were concerned. “I noticed you didn’t open your notebook today. Do you need me to move you to a different spot?”

“Huh? No, why would you?”

“I saw you watching Remus this class. You’re a very bright student and I want to make sure you’re not being distracted.”

Logan shook his head quickly. “No, no, I’m not. I’m just not feeling very well today, I’ll be better next week, I promise.” He couldn’t get moved now - not when he was so close to figuring out this puzzle!

The teacher hummed, accepting his answer. “Alright then. Don’t hesitate to tell me if you think you’d benefit from a seat change.”

“I won’t, thank you.” Logan agreed, rushing out of the classroom and towards his locker where Roman and Patton were waiting. He made up an excuse of needing to ask a question about an assignment, shoving the notes deeper into his pockets. They didn’t question him, letting him know that Mr. Sanders had gotten sick and that rehearsal was canceled.

Never had he been so thankful that their director had a penchant for getting sick often. Logan ran up to his room as soon as he got home and pulled the notes from his pocket, throwing them onto his desk onto the sizable pile already sitting there. He took a seat and grabbed a permanent marker, then began opening them up one by one. In each one, he looked for any heart shapes. And as he went through, he found at least one in every single drawing he had been given by Remus. In one, a drawing of a two headed dragon, the creature had heart shapes spines trailing down its back.

A heart on every single one. No two drawings were the same besides that simple fact. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed it before - with them traced in marker, they looked so obvious.

He wanted to ask what it meant, but he knew the answer was obvious. Now the only question was what he should do now.

Logan pushed the handdrawn notes away, reaching for his own notebook and cracking it open. It was time to plan, something he did best.

~

Tuesday, he was ready. His heart was racing the entire day, he was both excited and nervous for what he was going to do. Once he did it, he knew things would change. But after hours of planning over the weekend, he was certain it would be for the best.

Finally, it was fourth hour. Again, Remus came to class on time, and again, he started drawing for Logan. It was difficult for Logan to pay attention, but he managed to take decent notes and avoid looking over at Remus. Instead, he kept his eyes on the clock in the corner.

A minute before the bell would ring, he put his plan into action. Logan turned to a fresh page at the back of his notebook and he did his best to tear out a piece discreetly so Remus wouldn’t notice. He jotted something down quickly, and just before the bell rang he nudged it over to Remus, making sure he saw it.

The other student blinked, grabbing it slowly as if it was some kind of illusion, and unfolded it carefully. Then he got an odd look on his face, and he glanced up to see Logan smiling at him as the bell rang.

“Logan?” Remus spoke, the first thing he’d actually said to him all semester since that first day.

“Meet me outside?” Logan asked, holding his things with one arm. Remus nodded vigorously, slamming his notebook closed and swiping all of his pencils into his bag in one swoop.

“Do you mean it?” Remus exclaimed as they stepped outside and stood to the side.

“I want to understand you, Remus.” Logan clarified, looking quickly at the crumpled note in the other’s hand. “You’ve been giving me these notes all semester, and it took until last Friday to understand why.”

“You took forever!” Remus complained playfully. Logan pursed his lips.

“Why didn’t you simply tell me, if you were so impatient? That would have been much faster, and you’ve never struck me as shy.” Remus huffed at the suggestion, crossing his arms.

“Roman told me he didn’t want me ‘messing with’ his friends, so I decided that as long as you talked to me first, he can’t get mad at me!”

Logan opened his mouth to argue that flawed logic, then decided against it. “I see.”

“So, do you mean it?”

“Do I mean what?”

“Don’t mess with me! You gave me a note with a heart drawn on it Logan, I obviously mean do you like me?! Do you have a crush on me like I’ve had one on you for literally years?!”

That took Logan aback for a moment. Years? Really? “I’m afraid I don’t know you well enough to say I do, Remus.”

Remus’s face fell, but Logan wasn’t done. “I believe now is the time you offer to spend some time with me so I can learn more about you.”

“Are you... asking me to ask you on a date?”

Logan raised an eyebrow, and Remus laughed.

“I knew there was a reason I liked you! Ok, well then, will you go out on a date with me Logan?”

“Why, of course. It’s about time!”

[athingthatwantsvirginia]

Holden Caulfield or Nancy Drew

PART THIRTY-ONE OF THE DO YOU SEE HER FACE? SERIES

Pairing: Jess Mariano x Original Character (Ella Stevens)

Warnings: nightmares, anxiety/panic attacks, mentions of domestic abuse/violence, plentiful pop culture references

Word Count: 7.5K (this is long for some reason idk lads)

Summary: Jess and Ella return to Stars Hollow for Liz’s baby shower.

“So, how do you feel about artificial intelligence?” Ella asked, unprompted, finishing a drawing of some ducklings feasting on a vulture. Her sketchpad sat to her right on the arm of the couch. She was working with the new theme of opposition.

Jess looked up from his book, his head lying on her lap, and furrowed his brows. “What?”

She shrugged. “I read about some guy in the woods of Montana creating an AI all on his own. I think it’s a recipe for disaster.”

“How so?” Setting the book on his chest upside-down, Jess glanced at her inquisitively.

Her eyes were still trained on the drawing she was completing with only one hand. “Well, once they gain a more humanoid form, will they assimilate completely into the human race or will they be distinct from us? I mean, will they enact some revenge plot on us or will we coexist peacefully? We’re not the first humans who’ve had to think about this, but it’s the new millennium. Seems like that kinda stuff is closer than ever.”

Breathing a long sigh, Jess let a smirk cross his face. He peeked at his watch, and found it was only half past five. Chris was due home soon, having gone to do some PR business. Matthew was staying at Mabel’s place for the weekend. The apartment, silent save for their voices, was bathed in evening light. It had been warm for a February day, but a cold front was set to arrive very soon.

“It’s not even six yet. And already we’ve arrived at Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?” he asked with a doubtful chuckle.

Finally, she did the last bit of shading on her sketch and shut her book, her pencil saving her place. Her smile was small and sardonic. “You mean Blade Runner? Or are you actually insinuating that the book was better than the movie?”

“I’m not insinuating, Stevens. I’m stating a known fact,” he argued flatly.

She rolled her eyes. “Are you ever gonna get some taste?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he shot back.

Ella scoffed. “Says the man who honestly believes Coldplay could be described as an alternative band?”

“I’m not having this conversation again,” Jess deadpanned playfully, picking his book back up.

“Because you know I’m right.”

“Because you’re relentlessly stubborn.”

“On this particular topic?” Ella said, eyebrows raised. “Any sane person would be.”

“‘Sane’ isn’t quite the right word,” Jess muttered, pretending to ignore her.

She narrowed her eyes at him for a moment, then gave a curt nod and snatched the Kesey book from his hands before he could even react. Sitting up instantly, Jess eyed the book where she held it over the arm of the couch. Certainly, it was in his reach, but that wasn’t the point.

“You know this means war, right?” he asked.

“I’m aware,” she replied coolly, mocking. “But you’ll just have to try to come over here and get this back.”

“If you insist,” he shrugged, sighing slightly.

He launched forwards and began tickling her sides. Eyes widening, Ella dropped the book. The paperback fell with a small thud on the cracked hardwood on the other side of the couch, forgotten. Her sketchbook also slipped off the arm of the couch, the pencil falling out and rolling underneath the chair nearby. Jess had gone straight for the jugular. It had only taken sleeping in the same bed with her a few times for him to realize Ella was one of the most ticklish people he had ever encountered. She laughed loudly, openly, throwing her head back. Her hair splayed behind her as she laid her head against one of the throw pillows and Jess ended up on top, straddling her.

“This is what you get for being a book tease, Daria,” he said.

Her smile was wide, hurting her cheeks, as she pleaded through breathless giggles. “Fuck you! Stop!”

After a few more seconds, he obliged, his hands going slack and gripping her sides gently instead. The grin remained on her lips, her cheeks a lively pink. She caught her breath, dreamy eyes softening as her gaze lingered on his face. “I hate you, Mariano.”

He chuckled in disbelief. “You love me.”

Ella shrugged as Jess leaned in closer to her, breath hot on her face. “Close enough.”

As he went to kiss her, she placed a hand on the back of his neck, cool against his flushed skin. Her lips were soft but firm, needy. She was just wrapping her legs around his waist as he sat up, preparing to lift her up and take her to their bedroom, when Chris walked in. Immediately after tossing his keys on the kitchen counter, he staggered back and clamped his free hand over his eyes.

“Ugh, c’mon guys!” he whined.

Ella gasped and pulled away, hiding her face behind Jess, who turned to his friend with an annoyed stare. About a minute more and they would’ve been in the clear.

“How many times?” Chris continued, glancing through his splayed fingers to ensure it was safe before removing his hand again. “This is a communal living room! Communal!”

“Sorry,” Jess said lightly. “Next time, we’ll hang a sock on the door.”

Ella shoved his shoulder playfully, embarrassed. “Shut up!”

Chris grimaced in distaste but let it slide. He cast a stack of envelopes on the coffee table in front of them before going to hang up his things. “Some mail came.”

Swallowing thickly, Ella climbed off of Jess and began sifting through the mail. Jess watched her go through the envelopes, his chin resting on her shoulder. She tossed a few his way, some bills and some author inquiries.

Only two of them were for her, one being a check for her teacher’s assistant services. The spring semester was going considerably better than the fall, as Ella got the hang of the program. She smiled down at it and picked up her sketchbook again, tucking the check inside and making a mental note to cash it on Monday. Underneath it was a larger envelope, addressed in delicate, handwritten cursive. The return address was for a woman named Carrie from Stars Hollow. For the life of her, she couldn’t produce a face to match the name. Furrowing her brows, she ripped it open and read the stiff card which fell out.

“Hm,” she hummed, beginning to chew at her thumbnail as she looked it over.

“What’s up?” Jess asked absently, flipping through his own pile.

Biting the inside of her cheek, Ella took a hesitant pause before she spoke. The door shut behind Chris as he disappeared into his own room, and Ella was glad the inquiring ears were gone. “I got invited to Liz’s baby shower.”

“Huh,” Jess chirped, indifferent. “When?”

Her eyes landed on the date and she smirked bitterly. “Tomorrow. What a master at planning, your mother.”

“It’s what she’s famous for,” Jess quipped, finally setting his mail back on the coffee table and meeting her eyes again. “You wanna go? There’s no other plans this weekend, right?”

“I don’t know,” Ella shrugged. “Obviously, you could come with. Maybe catch up with Luke or something. He’s probably not doing so hot since everything with Lorelai. I mean...do you want me to go?”

“Not my decision to make,” he said in a clipped tone. He ran a hand over his mouth and peeked down at the invitation. It was pink and glittery. He snorted a bitter laugh. “If you wanna go, I’ll come with.”

“You have no opinion on this?” she asked. “None at all?”

“Nope,” he answered, shaking his head. “No opinion at all.”

She blew a breath out her nose, eyes calculating, as she read the invitation over again and considered the options. Jess didn’t seem thrilled about it, but didn’t seem enraged either. It was nice they had thought of her at all. And Ella had been worrying about Luke in the back of her mind quite a bit as of late. She’d heard through Lane that Lorelai had somehow ended up marrying Rory’s dad, Christopher, in Paris. Besides, Jess spoke with Liz on the phone at least once a month. They weren’t estranged. It would be good, she told herself. Mature.

“Might as well,” she said with finality, adding her own envelopes to the madness on the coffee table. She would have to grab her lone, neat stack later. “Since they remembered to invite me. Feels like I should go.”

Jess nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay,” she echoed, tugging on her earring. “We can take my car. And we’ll have to stop and get a gift on the way, I guess. But the party’s not until four, so we can definitely swing it. I guess you’ll have to hang out at Luke’s or something while I go?”

“Sure,” Jess said, aloof. “I’ll call him later and let him know we’re coming. We should probably stay with him. There’s no telling what kind of state Liz and TJ’s house is in.”

“Yeah, I think that’s a wise choice.”

“Agreed.” He ran an anxious hand through his hair and straightened up slightly, then seemed to lose some of the tension in his shoulders. The small smirk reappeared on his lips. “But, in the meantime, you wanna finish what we started?”

Ella grinned wickedly and grabbed his hand, leading him towards the bedroom door. “No time like the present.”

.   .   .

Usually, when Jess emerged from a nightmare, a big gasp brought him immediately back to reality. He would jolt physically as soon as his eyes flew open. But, this time, he found he couldn’t get quite as much of the dry central heating air as he needed when he reentered the waking world. His chest felt tight, as it often did in a bad dream’s aftermath, but his throat also felt impossibly small. His breathing came in short gasps. His heart beat hard against his ribs, making him feel almost nauseous. Though he was sticky with sweat, shivers rolled through his body, making his hands tremble. And for just one moment, he feared he was so lightheaded he would pass out.

Ella didn’t feel his movements so much as hear his shuffling around. When she cracked her eyes open, and blinked away the first few seconds of blurriness, she found him leaning up against the wall behind the bed. His eyes were wide and terrified, and he couldn’t control his breathing despite the hand he held desperately to his chest.

“Whoa, hey, Jess,” she murmured softly.

Sitting up, she immediately went to bring a hand to his shoulder, but he flinched away from her.

“I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to, okay?” she told him.

He nodded weakly.

Worry crept up her throat, but she did her best to keep her voice calm. She had seen shades of the same reaction each time he had a nightmare, but it had never been quite so extreme. His pupils had never been blown-out, as she could see in the grayish light of the early morning, and he had never had trouble breathing before.

“What do you need?” she asked, trying to get him to meet her gaze. When he finally did, she could see tears just about to spill over.

“Elle, I...I don’t…” He struggled for words, panting.

“Alright, that’s fine,” she whispered. “It’s fine if you don’t know. Everything is fine, Jess. But let’s just breathe, alright? Breathe with me.”

She took a long, loud breath in through her nose, then let it out through her mouth.

“Do it with me, James Dean. In and out, huh?” she said.

Though he raised a doubtful eyebrow, eventually, he did as she instructed. His hands almost felt numb, pins and needles, but they stopped shaking after a few minutes of slow breaths. He grabbed her hand in his own, squeezing tightly. He wondered instantly why he had withdrawn from her before. The feeling of her skin against his did perhaps more to soothe him than the breathing did.

She offered a tiny smile as he interlaced their fingers, and squeezed back. “Good job, Jess. Everything’s fine. I’m right here.”

Again, he nodded, more emphatically. There were glistening tear tracks running down his cheeks. He sniffled as his breathing became regular again, and he bit down hard on his bottom lip to maintain whatever semblance of control he could.

“You okay?” she asked, watching his muscles begin to ease up.

Releasing her hand, Jess averted his gaze and felt a blush heat his skin. “Yeah. Yeah. Fine.”

Ella said nothing more, instead gently laying him back down. She tugged the covers over them again, though she knew the alarm would probably go off in less than an hour or two. She brought his head to her chest, running her fingers through his hair and pressing a kiss to the top of his head. Wiping some of the dampness from his face with her thumb, she rubbed her free hand up and down over his back.

“One of those dreams, cutie?” she asked quietly.

He hummed in confirmation.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“No,” he said, and she thought she heard his voice becoming watery again.

“Okay,” she replied, soft but resolute. It was the response she had expected, but it seemed worth asking for such an acute reaction.

A calm, comfortable silence passed between them. Outside, the birds were chirping, and the traffic noise had already started. Slats of light snuck through the closed blinds and cast white strips over the gray comforter. Reaching over, Jess began to trace a fingertip over the tattoo on the inside of her left forearm. He did it often with her body art, after having watched her run her hands over her sketches so many times.

“Remind me about this one,” he said softly.

She smiled. He’d asked her more than once after a nightmare. She only had two tattoos so far, though she had plans for a third. Quality meant money, and she was still saving up. Sometimes he asked about the one on her leg, an antique bird cage with an open door. Neither of her tattoos had any color, drawn in a delicate, shaded style by an artist in New Haven. She was talented, and Gil knew her through his sandwich shop connections. She was still apprenticing, making sandwiches to get by before she could open her own shop or get permanently hired at one.

The birdcage had actually been Lane’s idea, after Ella moved in with her. Partially inspired by Keats’s odes, Ella had thought of getting a simple bird tattoo. She’d mentioned it to Lane, who lit up immediately at the mention of a rebellious act, and suggested something a bit different. The metaphor was clear, the tattoo was beautiful. The experience was better than she thought it would be, and she’d gone back for her second only a few months later, on Mother’s Day.

As much as Ella loved the birdcage, the tulip on her arm was her favorite. By the same artist, it had the same style. It was delicate, the bloom near the crook of her elbow and the stem tapering off and disappearing gracefully a little above her wrist.

“When I was a kid,” she began, “my mother had a kickass garden. I always wanted to help her, planting and watering and everything. But, as we all know, I kill everything except cactuses. She gave me a bunch of tulip seeds for my birthday once, and I made them my project. Got some books about flowers from the library, and everything. Only one ended up growing, anyway. But I was proud of it. And my mom was proud of me. And now I remember every time I look at my arm.”

Jess could feel the vibrations of Ella’s raspy voice in her chest, his ear pressed against her t-shirt as he listened. His eyes were getting heavy again, his body stressed from the rude awakening. It made him feel silly, but it had always so easily put him back to sleep. Not having to talk. Just listening to her.

“Pretty sentimental of you, Stevens,” he joked.

She chuckled. “Hypocrite. Love at first sight much?”

“Who am I to deny a law of the universe? Not like I could help it. I saw you and it was done,” he argued impassively.

“Guess I’m just irresistible,” she teased.

“Seems that way.”

Her own eyes fluttered shut. She was warm but not uncomfortable. Cozy, she supposed, was the word for it. Jess on her right side, with his head on her chest, seconds away from snoring.

“Hey, I do love you, Mariano.”

One corner of Jess’s mouth quirked up in a lazy smile, as he dozed despite the uneasiness and embarrassment still sitting in his stomach. “I know, Stevens. Love you back.”

.   .   .

Humming along with the CD, Ella cast nervous glances Jess’s way. His scowl was near permanent as he stared out the window at the passing scenery. The breeze was frigid as the sun beat down on the Connecticut streets. They were only five minutes away from Liz and TJ’s house, and Ella felt far less nostalgia than she was expecting. Fiona and Adam both had plans for the day, and said they simply couldn’t carve out the time to see her. Not one minute. Adam had some project he was spending the weekend at a friend’s house to finish. And Fiona had hair appointments booked solid. Ella knew it was naive to think they would fit in time for her on such a spur of the moment visit, but the disappointment remained. Stars Hollow didn’t look the same to her, feel the same to her, no matter how identical it seemed. Colorful decorations popped up on the sidewalks and there was a banner for some random town holiday above Taylor’s store. She didn’t bother to read it; next weekend was Valentine’s Day and she knew whatever the town was currently celebrating would just be an excuse to drum up business for the actual calendar event. As soon as “Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters” ended, she pulled her station wagon over to the side, outside Liz and TJ’s modest ranch-style, adorned with lawn ornaments and wind chimes and other kitschy decorations. A bunch of pink balloons streamed from where they were tied to the mailbox, which was shaped like a fish.

“Okay. Out with it,” she said, turning to him just as she pulled the parking brake.

Jess faced her, furrowing his brows. “What?”

“What’s with you?” Ella asked. “You always sing along to Elton John. At least, when it’s just the two of us you do. ‘Mona Lisa and Mad Hatters’ is your favorite. You’re not singing so...what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Jess said shortly, arms crossed over his flannel.

Ella blew her curtain bangs from her eyes in frustration, the rest of her locks pulled back in a low bun. She pulled the keys from the ignition. “Can we just skip this whole denial part and get to the part where you tell me what’s going on with you?”

“This isn’t the denial part,” Jess said, rolling his eyes. “This is the part where I tell you nothing is wrong because nothing is wrong. Two different parts entirely.”

“I asked you if you still wanted to come after everything that happened last night. And you said, and I quote: ‘Yes.’ And you didn’t want to talk about it, which is totally fine. But you seemed so out of it this morning, and-”

“This isn’t about last night,” he interrupted, a defensive bite in his voice. His muscles were tense.

“Alright,” she nodded, eyebrows raised. “Then what the hell is it about?”

“Nothing. I’m fine.”

“I think you might be a worse liar than me,” she mused peevishly. “Just give it up, Mariano. What is wrong?”

“The third degree is getting a little old, Nancy Drew,” he shot back, raising his voice slightly.

She spoke with her hands, a small, bitter, sarcastic smirk on her face. “You know what I think is getting old? The Holden fucking Caulfield act, which I haven’t seen in, like, three years. Now, you obviously don’t wanna be here, jackass. You obviously didn’t want me to go to this thing. Which you could’ve mentioned about two hundred miles ago. But I guess I wasn’t worthy of that courtesy. I’m only your girlfriend and your best friend, but who am I kidding? There’s no one on the planet who could possibly be privy to the thoughts of tortured genius, Jess Mariano! Excuse me!”

Grabbing the present and her purse from the backseat and shutting the driver’s side door behind her harshly, she began trudging up the cobblestone path to the house.

Jess sighed heavily as he got out of the car and leaned against the passenger side. He watched as Ella stopped abruptly and turned on her heel, fire in her hazel eyes as she doubled back and held the keys out to him.

“For you, Caulfield. Avoid the phonies on your way. I hear they tend to jaywalk,” she snapped as he took the keys.

“You’re so fucking hilarious,” he retorted, eyes narrowed.

“And you are so fucking annoying,” she shouted over her shoulder as she neared the front door.

“Right back at ya, Stevens!”

Jess ran a hand over his mouth as he saw Liz come out to meet Ella, enveloping her in a warm, cheerful hug. Her baby bump was round and visible from the street, and she offered her son a wave from the distance. He returned it begrudgingly. Feeling his stomach do a flip, his eyes followed Ella as she vanished into the house and didn’t turn back for a final look at him.

.   .   .

Evening had darkened to a deep, silky blue outside. The air was icy and thick with the promise of forthcoming snow. Ella sat on the porch with Miss Patty as she smoked from her long cigarette holder. The day hadn’t been her happiest, but Ella was glad to have a chance to reunite with the best dance teacher on the East Coast. Babette had left earlier, something about a gig for Maury’s jazz group. Carrie, who Ella had recognized as one of the crazy guests from Liz’s bachelorette party upon seeing her face again, was inside with Liz and TJ. And, Ella couldn’t think of anything she wanted to hear less than the story TJ was currently telling of the fight he and Jess had gotten into at a strip club. The father-to-be had shown up halfway through the party to be present when the gifts were opened, wearing an ostentatious Hawaiian shirt, inexplicably.

Ella’s glass was filled with watery orange juice, the ice cubes long since having melted. The drink was tangy, sour, and she had downed at least four of them over the course of the past three hours.

“And I told Marlene I simply couldn’t take her place,” Patty said, words snaking out of her mouth in white clouds. She was draped in velvet shawls and several long necklaces. “But she insisted!”

“I never knew you were a Dietrich stand-in,” Ella said, head buzzing and airy.

Patty nodded, an eyebrow raised suggestively. “I was her stand-in in more ways than one. Rudolf Sieber was a hell of a man.”

Snorting a laugh, Ella half-listened as she leaned over to get a better view of the full moon and the bright stars. She slid right off the porch swing and landed directly on her ass. Bursting out in drunken cackles, she somehow managed to keep the drink gripped in her hand. She gulped up the rest of it, then placed it down on the painted wood floor next to her. Patty laughed along suspiciously.

“Darling, are you alright?”

Ella nodded through her sloppy giggles, licking her lips. “I’m great, Miss Patty. Y’know, I don’t usually like orange juice too much, but I love it tonight. And Liz loved the pajamas we got. I thought the piglets would be better, but Jess insisted we get the sheep. He was right, I guess. It’d be nice if he was so open about more than just his onesie opinions.”

“My dear,” Patty began, stubbing out her cigarette, “that’s not orange juice. That’s a screwdriver.”

“Hm?” Ella asked, looking up at her from her place on the floor with large, glassy eyes.

“A screwdriver. It’s orange juice and vodka,” Patty explained, half-amused and half-concerned. She went and shouted something through the front door to Liz, TJ, Carrie, and the rest of the crowd. Ella said nothing, only looking down in confusion at her empty cup.

Liz appeared next to Patty in a second, both of them coming over and lifting Ella by the upper arms. Smiling widely, Liz gave Ella a hug goodbye. Ella laughed in her grasp, more receptive to the contact than she was when she first got to the shower.

“I had so much fun! Thank you for inviting me!” Ella exclaimed, her voice high and intoxicated.

Grin ever-present, Liz pulled away from Ella and held her by the shoulders. “Aw, thank you for coming. I love the onesie! Patty’s gonna walk you back to my bro’s diner, alright?”

Ella paused for a long, apprehensive moment, then nodded happily. “Okay, sure. Hey, did Carrie give me vodka? Patty said something about vodka. But Carrie said it was orange juice and I couldn’t taste anything else!”

“You’ll be fine, sweetie,” Liz said calmly, then turned Ella back to Patty.

Ella was about to question her further, but she was already being whisked away.

“C’mon, let’s get you back to the diner,” Patty said, pushing Ella forwards by the shoulderblades.

Babbling on about whatever passed through her brain, Ella appreciated the cold air on her flushed skin as they strolled through town on the five-minute walk back to Luke's. At some point, she shed her black peacoat and slung it over her shoulder. There were rosy patches blooming on her chest, exposed in her floral black dress. Her tights had somehow sustained more than one rip and her Doc Martens felt leaden on her feet. The lights of the diner were a beacon against the dark backdrop of town at night. She saw Jess, all broody on a stool at the end of the counter, through the front window.

“Ugh, Jess is such an asshole sometimes,” she muttered, her words thick like molasses.

Patty chuckled, walking her up the concrete steps. “He’s a man, honey. What did you expect?”

The bell over the door jingled jovially. Luke was cleaning up the counter as the Saturday dinner rush died down. The aroma of salt and grease was potent. Finally, the wave of nostalgia hit Ella as she hung her coat and bag by the door. She almost knocked the rack down as Patty’s hands hovered over her form cautiously.

“Yes, everyone, your eyes do not deceive you,” Ella announced. “Luke’s best waitress has returned to her humble beginnings in Stars Hollow.”

At the sound of her voice, Jess turned and his eyes widened. He abandoned his book on the counter and hopped up from the stool. Luke, equally startled, could only stand there with his mouth agape.

“What happened?” Jess asked, rushing over to Ella. His hands went to her waist to guide her, but she swatted him away with a heavy sigh of frustration.

“Get off me, Holden Caulfield,” she mumbled, wobbly on her feet.

“Carrie gave her five screwdrivers. She thought it was orange juice,” Patty said shortly, offering some greetings to the stray customers sitting around and looking on in curiosity. “You got her, Jess? I have a midnight sauna salsa class to set up for.”

“Yeah. Thanks, Patty,” Jess said, taking over for her.

Ella ran right into one of the tables. It screeched across the tile floor, leaving a dark mark. But Jess caught her before she fell on her face. Patty offered Ella a final kiss on the cheek before making her exit.

“Dammit, Crazy Carrie strikes again!” Luke exclaimed. Jess sensed a rant coming. “I never would’ve let her go if I knew that’s who was throwing it!”

“You think you could stop Eleanor Stevens from going anywhere?” Jess asked doubtfully, continuing his failed attempts to direct her.

“Luke, your nephew is a jackass, did you know that? And such a dork,” Ella said, coming behind the counter and learning her elbows on it tiredly. Luke could smell the vodka, strong on her breath. “I mean, he loves broadway. I’m serious. And Elton John. And Nora Ephron. And remember when we were in high school when he got that black eye from-”

Jess finally managed to clamp his hand over Ella’s mouth, as she had been shoving his hands away during the entire diatribe. She was surprisingly strong while drunk, even though she was such a lightweight. Licking his hand, Ella managed to get her mouth free again. She laughed at Jess’s grimace as he wiped his palm on her sleeve, but pressed her back against him nonetheless. She felt some stability returning as he began to support her weight.

“Okay, I think it’s time we get you to bed,” Jess said. His cheeks were flushed and there was crease of concern on his forehead. “Don’t you think so, Luke?”

“Yeah, Ella, the sheets are clean. You guys can take my bed tonight,” Luke said, nodding along as he went over to the cash register.

“But I don’t wanna take your bed. Who are we to take your bed?” Ella argued, as Jess led her back towards the stairs. She stumbled over her words, and swayed as she tried to walk.

“It’s fine, Ella,” Luke insisted warily. “You’ll take the bed.”

“But-”

Jess uttered a long sigh, then hoisted her up bridal-style, fed up with struggling. Groaning dramatically, Ella stiffened for only a moment, then relaxed in his arms. Her head lolled drunkenly against his shoulder.

“Oh, look, my jackass in shining armor,” she spat out, eyes closed.

“Yeah, I’m the fourth horseman of the apocalypse, I know,” he replied, finishing his climb up the stairs and managing to open the door to the apartment with only one hand.

“At least you’re self-aware.”

She was already drifting off, and he set her down atop the soft orange cover on Luke’s double bed. She rolled over onto her side and grabbed a fistful of the sheets sleepily. By the time Jess returned to her with a glass of water and some aspirin, she was beginning to snore. He set the glass and pills on the bedside table.

“Elle? Wake up for just a sec,” he whispered, shaking her shoulder gently.

She gave another petulant moan, but opened her bleary eyes and sat up against the headboard.

“Take these,” he said shortly, giving her the glass and the aspirin.

Shooting him a scornful glare, she knocked them back without a word.

“You want the Led Zeppelin t-shirt or the blue flannel?” he asked, going over to the duffel he’d brought up to the apartment earlier.

She pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling the headache already. “Fuck, I wish I brought the KISS t-shirt. But if I brought it, I would definitely forget it. I can see it already. Led Zeppelin, please.”

He nodded, then came back to the end of the bed and began untying her shoes for her. Her eyes fluttered shut again. The smell of pine in the apartment was old and comforting. The covers were soft against her skin as Jess tugged off her stockings, leaving her legs bare. He swapped them for a pair of plaid pajama shorts, which she actually tried (unsuccessfully) to help him put on.

Suddenly, she began to clutch at the leather cord around her neck. On it, there hung a heavy, blue geode, flat against the exposed skin of her chest. She tried twice to get it off herself, before Jess finished with her shorts and pushed her hands aside. He raised it up and off of her carefully.

“Your mom put that on me. I might’ve given her twenty bucks for it? I don’t remember,” she told him, surly.

Jess cracked a joyless smirk. “How mercenary of her.”

“I wish I wasn’t drunk,” she murmured as he instructed her to raise her arms so he could get her dress and bra off.

“I know,” he replied.

“Being drunk fucking sucks,” she continued as he slipped the worn cotton t-shirt over her head.

“I know,” he repeated. Jess scooted up closer to the head of the bed. “Turn around.”

She did as he said, though not without sulky huff. In measured, delicate movements, he undid her hairdo, taking out the bobby pins and the elastic. He ran his fingers gently through her hair, untangling it.

“Okay. Do you wanna brush your teeth first?” he asked quietly.

She shook her head, burrowing beneath the covers and turning away from him. Swallowing dryly, Jess gave a curt nod and was about to turn and leave when Ella flipped suddenly onto her back.

“Hey, you have to stay on your side in case-”

“I just want you to talk to me,” she interjected, reaching up to stroke his stubbly cheek with her thumb. For a moment, as she continued, he thought he saw the shine of tears in her eyes. “We need to tell each other everything. I’m really fucking worried about you. And I just...I love you and...maybe I was being too aggressive. I don’t know. But I really, really wish I wasn’t drunk and my head hurts and I wish we could go home and-”

“Hey, Eleanor, just go to sleep,” he said softly, taking her hand from his face and running his thumb over the back. She was rambling, eyes red-rimmed, beyond exhausted. Tucking her in tightly, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “We can talk about this tomorrow.”

Irrational hurt passed over Ella’s face and she scoffed angrily. She faced away from him again, the cold shoulder. “Whatever. Holden fucking Caulfield.”

.   .   .

It was past eleven when Luke finally closed up for the night. He had no place to be, and let Caesar go early. The diner was completely silent as he scrubbed away at smudged surfaces and swept up crumbs. He wished for Lorelai, could picture her at home with Christopher. Around the kitchen table where he used to sit, with Rory and Christopher’s own daughter, Gigi. Luke wondered at it in the back of his mind. Christopher had a daughter, just like him. But he’d made it work. He’d figured it out, and gotten Lorelai in the end. Why hadn’t he been able to? What was wrong with him?

He pushed the thoughts away again, shaking his head. They did no good. What’s done is done, he told himself. Maybe one day he would find someone again. But he had never met anyone who made him feel the way Lorelai did. No one else in the world. He wasn’t optimistic he’d honestly be able to come across true love again. He trudged up the creaky back stairs, his brow heavy with anguish, after shutting off the downstairs lights. Opening the door to the apartment, which still read ‘Williams Hardware’ all these years after his father had died, he was surprised to see Jess at the kitchen table, book in hand. The light over the sink was the only one left on, creating a dim glow.

“Hey,” he said quietly, locking the door behind him, even though the front door of the diner was locked as well.

Jess’s eyes lingered on the page for a moment as he finished a sentence, before he saved his place and looked up. “Hey. You finish closing?”

“Yep,” Luke said, placing his keys down near the door and immediately going to grab a beer from the fridge. He held one out to his nephew. “You want one?”

Not even considering it, Jess shook his head. He tossed a nervous look at Ella, who lay snoring and tangled up in the orange sheets. She was talking nonsense in her sleep, had been for the past two or three hours as Jess attempted to finish his Kesey novel. He was having trouble concentrating.

“No, thanks,” he said. “I think at least one of us should be sober tonight.”

“Suit yourself.”

Luke came to sit beside Jess silently, sipping his Heineken and waiting for whatever story was to come. It was only the second time in his life he had seen Ella drunk, and it was making him feel an odd sense of deja-vu.

“I wanted to help clean up downstairs, but I was worried she would flip over onto her back. I figured I should stay here and...make sure she was okay,” Jess explained, apologetic.

“Don’t worry about it.” Luke shrugged it off dismissively.

“She hates being drunk,” Jess said, eyes still on Ella. “I mean, on her twenty-first birthday, we didn’t even go out. We just watched Goodfellas.”

“Why?” Luke asked, tilting his head in confusion.

Jess smirked. “She said it was a makeshift rite of passage, since she didn’t want to drink. Because they say ‘fuck’ exactly three hundred times.”

“Sounds like her,” Luke said fondly.

“Yeah,” Jess replied, looking down at his lap and breathing a sigh.

“She didn’t seem too happy with you earlier,” Luke said pointedly, eyebrows raised. “Or was that just the booze talking?”

Jess uttered a bitter chuckle. “I’d say a sober woman’s thoughts are a drunk woman’s words, but she sounded pretty much the same level of pissed in the car on the way up here as she did after five screwdrivers.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Jess said, his words a sigh. “I thought I’d be okay with all this. The baby shower and everything. But I got to thinking about it more and more and...I just don’t know. Do you think Liz is ready for another kid?”

Luke paused a moment, appraising Jess’s face. He saw sincere fear in his nephew’s features, taking him slightly aback. “I think so. And TJ’s not the sharpest tool in the shed by any means, but I think he’s even less of a flight risk than your mom. And they live right down the road from me, Jess.”

Jess hummed. “I guess that’s true. I just got to remembering some things about Liz and...Ella could tell something was up. She can always tell. But I guess I didn’t feel like talking.”

Blowing a long breath out through his nose, Luke nodded. “Well, you don’t have to worry about this kid. I promise. I won’t let anything happen.”

“Thanks.”

“And Jess?” Luke began, meeting his nephew’s eyes. “Talk to her. Tell her everything that’s on her mind. There’s no point in hiding things. It’ll drive her crazy, and it’ll drive her away. We’ve had this conversation before. Open two-way communication is-”

“The foundation of love, I know, Dr. Phil,” Jess grumbled, rolling his eyes at the self-help jargon. But, inside, he stored the sentiment away for later. “Old habits, I guess. I’m working on it.”

“Good. That’s all that matters,” Luke said, offering Jess a hopeful smile and finishing off the last of his beer. He tossed it in the recycling and retreated to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

Jess ran a hand over his mouth and then rubbed at his tired eyes with the heels of his hands. His dream from the night before flashed across his mind quickly, and he tried to lock the images away. The thought of curling up on the old leather couch made him grimace. He wasn’t eager for a repeat. One more chapter, he told himself. Then he would be ready to try and rest.

.   .   .

Whatever possessed her to wake up at five in the morning on a Sunday, she wasn’t entirely sure. But the pounding headache in her temples probably had something to do with it. Luke was already gone, the twin bed on which Jess had once slept made neatly and left empty. Early morning deliveries perhaps. Or maybe he was getting ready for the brunch crowd. It was his least favorite group of customers, Ella remembered. As she awoke and saw Jess was asleep beneath a throw blanket on the couch, book on the floor next to him, she hopped up from the bed. The weathered hardwood was cold beneath her bare feet, and she wished the room wasn’t quite as awash in morning light. She had to squint against it as she padded over, sitting on the edge of one couch cushion.

“Jess?” she whispered, groggy. She raked her hands through her messy hair and tucked it behind her ears. Goosebumps rose on her arms after having left the warmth of the bed. “Jess?”

He stirred on only the second try, scrunching up his face. He was still dressed in his clothes from the day before. Eventually, his brown eyes were open, and surprised to see her up before him. “Hey, Elle. You okay?”

“Yeah. Why are you on the couch?”

“Oh,” he said, throwing an arm across his eyes and yawning. “You were pretty mad last night. I didn’t know if you’d want me to get in with you.”

She shook her head, a small smile ghosting over her lips. “I always want you sleeping next to me, cutie. Even when I’m mad. I mean, we’ve got sides of the bed now. There’s tradition to maintain.”

“Like you’ve ever cared about tradition,” he chuckled, blinking away the sleep in his field of vision. She looked pale, almost a sickly green, but her eyes were clear once again. And her speech was no longer drunkenly strung together.

“Fair enough,” she replied. “But I wasn’t sleep-in-separate-beds mad. I was just I’m-wasted-and-annoyed mad.”

“How the hell did you not know you were drinking screwdrivers?” he asked, a teasing smirk appearing on his face.

She rolled her eyes, mostly at herself. “I don’t know, Mariano. I don’t ever drink. How am I supposed to know what alcohol tastes like? And I don’t know what the fuck Carrie did to those, but I swear they were a dead ringer for straight orange juice.”

“Whatever you say, Stevens.”

“Shut up,” she quipped with good nature. “Did I try to sing Rumors or anything? I don’t really remember.”

“Mercifully, no,” he said, sitting up against the arm of the couch. “Nothing crazy. You are a bit of a weepy drunk, but who isn’t?”

“Jesus,” she murmured, blushing slightly.

He chuckled half-heartedly, then his face grew more earnest. “Hey, Elle?”

“Hm?”

Pausing to heave a heavy sigh, he raked a hand through his bedhead.

“I didn’t want to come here because of the dream I had,” Jess spit out, before he could lose his nerve. “Nothing specific...just a bunch of stuff from when I was growing up. It just...Liz wasn’t the best mom and I was remembering...a lot. And I was nervous about her…”

“Screwing up that kid’s life?” she asked.

He nodded shyly.

“Okay. I get why you’d be nervous. But she’s with TJ now, and she’s older. And, plus, the day Luke lets anything happen to that baby is the day Coldplay is classified is an alternative band,” Ella said. At some point, she began running her fingers through his hair in reassurance. “I really, really think it’ll be fine.”

“I know. I talked to Luke last night.”

“And you’re feeling better about it?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, feeling a small weight lift from somewhere inside him. “But I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I just...I don’t know. I was...scared. It was stupid.”

“It’s not stupid, Jess,” she shook her head, gaze softening. “It makes sense. I’m sorry if I pushed you too hard. I didn’t mean to. You just...you scared me. And I was going insane because I knew something was wrong and...I was just worried about you.”

“I know, Daria,” he said fondly.

“I mean, you had a panic attack, Jess.” Her voice was deep with fatigue, and had pleading quality which struck Jess’s heart. “You couldn’t breathe. I didn’t know if I was gonna be able to help and...maybe you should see someone? My brother’s therapist helped him a lot after my mom.”

“I’ll think about it,” Jess replied, shockingly genuine. Ella didn’t think he would be entertaining the thought of getting help so easily.

“Good.”

“Not like I’ve got the best insurance though.”

Ella sighed. “Yeah. Fucking capitalism.”

“It’s a little early to be going Marxist, I think,” he said, laughing breathily.

“Oh, it’s never too early,” she shot back.

“Duly noted,” Jess replied. Then, after a hesitant pause: “So, we’re fine?”

“Everything’s fine, James Dean,” she said, nodding. “Thanks for telling me.”

“Don’t thank me,” he said with a bashful laugh, bowing his head.

Ella’s smile grew at his shyness, and she pressed a brief kiss to his forehead before he lifted his head back up and their lips met. As they pulled away from each other, he placed an affectionate hand on her cheek.

“How’s your head?”

“I’ll survive.”

“I’m glad,” he quipped. “You think you can handle some breakfast?”

“Worth a try.”

“Okay, once Luke opens up, we can head downstairs. Then let’s go home?” he proposed.

“Yeah. Sounds like a plan,” she said, almost wistful. “Let’s go home.”

[unfolded73]

Profane Art (1/1) - schitt’s creek ff

Jake, Patrick, and David have a threesome, and David gets introspective about the symbolism of jewelry. (That’s right. I said what I said.) 

Rated Explicit, 1667 words. (ao3)

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

Jewelry had always served as powerful symbols in David’s life. Not all jewelry, of course. Not most of the vast collection of jewels in his mother’s dressing room as he grew up. Not the pacifier necklaces of his teens, or the ring with the black stone that he wore on his pinky when he was twenty until he lost it down a New York sewer grate. But the sight of that golden sideways A, nestled between his sister’s collarbones, would always trigger just a tiny bit of relief that Alexis was safe and sound. His parents’ wedding rings that by now had worn permanent grooves into their skin, maybe into the bones underneath, giving him one tiny reason to continue to believe in life-long love when everything else in his life told him it was a fantasy. The four silver rings that he’d been wearing on the day that his life imploded, when he boarded the bus that took him into exile in the town he apparently owned. Those were a symbol of his downfall, of his unwillingness to give up his fashion sense in a world of cat sweatshirts, of who he was and who he would be again.

Now those rings sat carefully nestled in a ring box in his underwear drawer, replaced by their golden counterparts. The gold rings were a message that he could have all of it — he could be himself, but he could also have this: a life in this town and with this man who made him happy. This man who made him feel safe.

And of course, there was his own wedding ring, the partner to the one on Patrick’s finger. David preferred to take his off when he showered and before he went to bed, a habit he’d developed long ago with the other rings he wore. Patrick almost never took his wedding ring off, though. He slept in it and showered in it and did yard work in it, and David should have been annoyed at the way it had gotten scratched up by years of baseball bat handles and hedge clippers, but he wasn’t. He liked it. The scratches were symbols of their time together. They were badges of the success of their marriage.

He also really liked the sight of Patrick’s ringed hand against his skin. He liked it when Patrick grabbed his hand and laced their fingers together as they walked from the store to the café. He liked it when they sat on the porch in the evenings, watching the sun set, and Patrick put his hand on David’s bare knee. He loved it when Patrick’s hand trailed down his chest, the gold ring against the dark of his hair. Secretly, he wished he could install a discrete photographer in their bedroom so that he could see it in other ways. He wanted to see Patrick gripping his ass with that hand, or see Patrick’s ringed finger on his shoulder while he fucked David hard from behind. He wanted to see the gold buried in the black of the hair on his head while Patrick buried himself in David’s mouth. It would be a gorgeous and profane art exhibit only for them. (It’s possible he’d spent a significant amount of time thinking about how he’d arrange the photos. It’s possible he’d sketched it in a journal, just for fun.)

So given all of that, perhaps it was surprising or perhaps it wasn’t surprising at all to realize how hot it was to see his husband’s hand on the body of another man.

This wasn’t the first time they’d fooled around with Jake together since they’d been married. But it was the first time David had been so transfixed by the vision of Patrick’s wedding ring in this context. Maybe it was the edible David had ingested an hour ago. Right now, for instance, he was staring at Patrick’s left hand gripping into the skin of Jake’s ass while Jake filled Patrick’s mouth with his cock. Jake stood at the foot of the bed, Patrick on his knees, and David lay back on the pillows and watched. He touched himself slowly, without any urgency, and waited his turn. The sight before his eyes was an art exhibit all on its own.

Jake pulled out, a trail of Patrick’s saliva like a single spider web catching the light for a second and then disappearing.

“You’re very good at that,” Jake said to Patrick, his voice a pleasant rumble. “Gotta stop if I’m gonna be able to fuck your husband, though.”

David squirmed, his hand drifting down to feel the plug in his ass. Oh right, he remembered. That’s what they’d discussed before they came over. That’s what he’d prepared for.

Jake was following the script, already rolling a condom on as Patrick collapsed next to David on the bed. They kissed lazily, Patrick’s mouth wet and lips swollen, tasting of another man’s cock. David bit his lip almost hard enough to break the skin and groaned. Fuck, he was so turned on.

Patrick pulled away, his gaze heavy-lidded with arousal, and put a pillow under David’s hips. He eased the plug out and David whined at the loss. But then Jake was there and he didn’t waste any time filling David back up again with his gorgeous cock. David let his head fall back, a moan ripped from his throat as sparks raced up his spine.

“Good, baby?” Patrick asked, leaning over to nip at David’s throat.

“So good.” Jake was fucking him now, short and powerful thrusts that lit him up from the inside.

Patrick kissed him and then shifted back on the bed, sitting on his heels and just watching for several seconds like he was looking at porn, transfixed by the sight of Jake’s cock moving in and out of David. Perhaps David wasn’t the only one who wished he could see them from angles he usually didn’t get to see.

Then Patrick shook himself and picked up the lube that Jake had dropped on the bed, squeezing some out on his fingers. “You still want this?” he asked Jake.

“Fuck, yeah,” Jake grunted, his hands gripping tight to David’s thighs.

This part David couldn’t see, sadly, but he could tell the minute Patrick brushed Jake’s prostate with his fingers. Jake made a noise like he’d been punched in the gut and thrust even harder. David felt the top of his head touch the headboard, and he reached back and braced his hand against it. With his other hand he jacked himself, trying to time it right — he didn’t want to come too soon but he didn’t want to lose his momentum. He wanted to come while Jake was fucking him. Wanted that desperate, out-of-control orgasm that was like falling down a mountain.

His eyes had slipped closed, and David forced them open just in time to see Patrick slip a hand around Jake’s torso to brace himself as he continued fingering him with the other. David’s eyes honed in on that wedding ring again as Patrick’s blunt fingers spread across Jake’s chest.

“Come on, David,” Jake panted. “I’m almost there. Come on.”

David moved his hand on his own cock faster, his eyes on the gold of that ring. His husband, the man he’d loved for almost a decade now. Trusting and confident and open for adventure.

He was close now, god he was close, and he met every thrust of Jake’s with his own, fucking himself on that cock, feeling bare and spread open, exposed, observed, sliding down a hill too steep to get any purchase. Faster and faster and hotter and…

The pulsing of David’s muscles around Jake’s cock matched the pulse of his cock in his hand, the wet streaks painting his belly and chest. Jake grunted and then stilled, attractive while coming like he was attractive doing anything, the bastard.

“Come here,” David said to Patrick, “let me suck you off.” Jake faded into the background and then it was just the two of them. Patrick straddled him on the bed and sighed in relief as David enveloped his cock with his mouth. It didn’t take long. Patrick was close, and it couldn’t have been more than a minute of shallow thrusts before he was coming down David’s throat.

The three of them piled together in the bed after, but David was already feeling antsy and ready to go home to his own bed, with the sheets and pillows and mattress firmness just exactly the way he liked them.

“Do you want to stick around and watch a movie?” Jake asked.

“Nah, I think we’ll head home,” Patrick answered. “We’ve gotta get an early start tomorrow.”

“Suit yourself,” Jake said. “My door’s always open for you guys.”

Patrick laughed. “Yeah.” Open invitation aside, it wasn’t ever going to be something they made a habit of. Jake was a drug best taken in small doses and rarely.

David felt Patrick poking him in the arm. “Come on, hon. Don’t fall asleep.”

“I’m not asleep,” David said, levering himself up, collecting his clothes, and heading to the bathroom to do an abbreviated cleanup before he could get home to his own shower, which was also exactly the way he liked it. When he emerged, Patrick was dressed, standing there and talking to Jake about a table he’d crafted. He needed to get his husband out of here fast before Jake turned him into a woodworker. Patrick had way too many hobbies as it was.

Patrick was running his hand admiringly over the smooth cherry wood as he talked, his wedding ring glinting in the low light.

“Ready to go?” Patrick asked David as he approached. He reached out with that same hand and cupped it around David’s neck, pulling him close for a kiss.

“What’s that smirk for, David?” Jake asked after they pulled apart.

David chuckled. “I was just wondering… Are you any good with a camera, Jake?”