#⊹ · ( crack! ) * . the fade says “ peek—a—boo.”

[altusmage]

this is what happens on discord calls with @templarcommanderofhonnleath​. context? what context? there is none. 

but don’t do drugs red lyrium, kids

#⊹ · ( ooc ) * . behold; the dumb gay bitch. #mun art #⊹ · ( crack! ) * . the fade says “ peek—a—boo.” #this is a serious rp blog

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being Tony Stark’s Daughter (The Aftermath)

Tony Stark x daughter!reader

warnings:

a/n: y/n is about 17 or 18; i cried while writing this. sorry this is really long!!! pls forgive me 🥺

prompt: takes place from a3 to smffh

The Early Years (1) The Teenage Years (2) The Intense Years (3) Continued (5)

let’s start on a happy note! ahahah

so for a while, earth was calm

you, pepper, and tony got to be a family for a while

wedding planning!

of course you got to try the ben&jerry’s ice cream named after your dad: Stark Raving Hazelnuts

“it’s not fair that you got ice cream named after you and i didn’t”

“well, when you grow up to be as awesome as me, maybe you’ll get your own ice cream flavor”

developing nanotech suits together for a Bonding Experience(tm)

speechless after the first test

“dad, this is...”

“the coolest thing to ever exist?”

“yes!!”

yall ready for some shit?

the day that ebony maw invaded was pretty—what’s the word? interesting? no. well, yes, but...HORRIBLE.

it all started when you got the call from your dad

“y/n, incoming call from ‘big fat meanie’”

“god, i really have to change that. okay, JOSHIE, answer it. hey, dad? what’s up?”

“hey, kid! you know that weird ass building on bleecker street? how fast can you get here?”

“JOSH can you track FRIDAY really quick? lets see how far dad is...uh, okay, be there in five, see ya”

taking your suit for a spin and realizing how GREAT it was to be able to basically fold up your suit and put it in your back pocket

knocking on the door and it opened on its own, it was kinda cool

“is this a museum? cool.”

bruce turning around to see you after about three years and giving you an awkward smile and a wave while you stood frozen around the wizard-guys

“y/n, god, you’ve grown up!”

charging into him for a long overdue hug

“you don’t know how much i missed you. it’s been chaotic without you”

“i can...i can only imagine”

a debriefing on the situation you were about to face, and bonus! having to play the catch-up game with bruce

“just call him, dad. we need as much help as we can. steve will understand”

rushing outside to face off with some ugly-ass aliens

“oh nooo, it’s roger smith from american dad”

bruce: 👀, stephen: 👀, wong: 👀, tony: 👏👏🥰 that’s my girl

simultaneous nanosuit unveiling

“you ready for this one, pops?”

“of course! ive waited years to kick some more alien ass”

montage of you and tony getting your asses beat together (as a family <3)

peter showing up

“give me one good reason why i shouldn’t send you back to that school bus”

“because i’m good company?”

“whatever, just listen to whatever dad has to say, i forfeit my responsibilities over you”

pew pew, repulsors, pew, tiny rockets! fun! action! destroying new york again and again. good times...

until JOSHUA gave you notice that your dad was flying high

“call him. now.”

“hey! how’s it going down there?”

“dad, you know how i feel about you and space”

“i know, i know. i just...i gotta take care of this. keep pepper safe for your old man, okay?”

“i lo—l—ve y—”

“y/n? y/n?! i love you! shit!”

“we lost connection with her, sir”

trying to call peter

“call failed, y/n. should i try again?”

“i’m gonna kill them...”

walking through the rubble to find bruce, the only sensible man you know

taking him to the avengers compound asap to get to rhodey and figure out what comes next

meanwhile, tony was dealing with space and another teenager

and worrying a lot about leaving you on earth

“i mean, mr. stark, y/n’s one of the most capable people i know. she’s probably trying to fix this whole mess as we speak”

“i didn’t get to tell her i love her”

“oh...”

having a lovely meeting with thaddeus ross with rhodey, having a lovely time watching them passive-aggresively argue until your former teammates arrived

having to patiently (and professionally) wait for ross to hang up before running into them for a hug

“holy shit, you guys have no idea how bad i’ve wanted to see you. it sucks not being all together anymore”

“i know, y/n. we’ve all missed you.” -cap

“a lot” -nat added

bruce’s little entrance that was sure to bring some awkwardness

you, secretly freaking out about your dad

sam was the one that found you crying after you “stepped out” for a few minutes too long

“oh, y/n,” he was contemplating grabbing someone else to step in, but decided to sit next to you in the hallway, “i’m sorry, kiddo. i can’t promise you anything, but your dad is a fighter. a big pain in the ass. i think your odds are good”

laughing through your tears

“yeah, you’re right. thanks, sammy”

he gave you a little hug while you calmed down

getting to business, the ass-kicking kind

as the wise natasha romanoff once said to your father, you were being “uncharacteristically non-hyper verbal”

your mind did this funny thing...wandered into places it really should not go

the talk about sacrificing vision led to wakanda, where you had a swell time patrolling

“guys! we’ve got incoming. a lot of incoming”

well-deserved uncle/niece team up. who wouldve thought?

you would have nightmares about these aliens for years to come

“you get to die, and you get to die! everybody gets to die!”

“y/n, what did we talk about?” -rhodey

“using humor as a defense mechanism makes the team uncomfortable...”

covering the girls 😌 because we gotta have those all-girl teamups, uh-huh?

some more blasting

thor made his comeback and you just could not miss it

“hi, thor!”

you landed next to him and your helmet receded

“well, hello, miss y/n! good to see you again! my, you got taller...oh! meet my friends: rabbit and tree”

having a “what the actual fuck” moment upon seeing thanos for the first time

and flying at him from behind with a massive nanotech blade ready to kill this purple bastard

but he grabbed your arm and flung you into the dirt, that was gonna leave a mark

“i just had to make a suit when i was ten...no one stopped me, huh? i couldn’t be elon’s kid, he was a nice guy”

watching thanos snap his fingers and looking around to see dust floating through the air and thanos retreat

“rhodey? uncle rhodey?!”

“i’m right here, kid, don’t worry”

he grabbed your hand while you were dusting

“tell my dad i love him, promise?”

fading away and leaving rhodey with your last words

he was mad before anything else

all he could think about was a promise your dad made him take years back

“rhodey, you keep my daughter safe no matter what, promise?”

the avengers recooperating at the compound, waiting to figure out whether any of the space-crew survived

they had to let pepper know that you didn’t make it, she was a mess upon hearing that news

tony finally making his way back to earth

and stumbling out of that ship

“where’s y/n? where is she?!”

“tony, tony, calm down”

“dont tell me to calm down! where is my daughter?!”

“she made me promise to tell you thay she loves you”

tony knew the answer by now, he lost his mind over your death

it didn’t feel right not having you by his side, for the past 18 years you’ve been with him

after a long period of recovery, tony and pepper moved on, got married, built a home, had a new daughter...

tony made sure there was a spare room for you

he put all the things you left behind in it

there were so many photos of you in the house

and he’d show your sister, morgan, all of them. he wanted morgan to know her sister

“that’s y/n when she built her first robot. it snuck up on me a few times. it went ‘boo!’”

morgan loved the stories about you, but she didn’t understand why she couldn’t see you

“when do i get to meet her?”

“uh...maybe someday, sweetie”

after being unbothered for almost 5 years, the remaining avengers came back with a plan that was so tempting, he just wanted his little girl back

cracking under pressure and telling pepper that he couldn’t ignore this mission because it was his chance to get you back

“get her back, tony”

“you think so?”

“i miss her, too.”

and so it began, he made it his mission to get you back

peeking at the wallet picture of you on his shoulders when you were so little

tony travelling to 2012; loki’s invasion

and there you were, the sassy genius 12 year old that he missed so much

“we’ve got this, tony, we’ll bring her home” -scott

and then things went badly and also 2012 tony went into cardiac arrest and 2012 y/n dove onto the floor to tend to him

“dad? give us some room, would you?!”

2023 tony smiling at how much he missed you worrying about him and how reckless he was

but also...the mission kinda went bad so that sucked

push it a bit farther back and now tony was with grandpa stark! asking how to be a dad and all that!

he could barely stand still waiting for you to come back to him, god he missed you more than he thought

and after a bit of hard work, it was time to snap

just like that, you were back in wakanda, puzzled by the gap in time before one of dr. strange’s portals opened in front of you

and then you were in the ruins of the avengers compound

“JOSHUA, can you locate my dad?”

“i think you’ll be able to see him”

“wow, i cant believe i programmed your cocky artificial ass”

“i think you can”

seeing your dad flying high and patching into the comms

“miss me, old man?”

and then he hit the gas to get to you and when this man hugged you, you almost couldn’t let go

“i’m so sorry, y/n. god, i’m sorry. these last five years...i was so lost without you”

“it’s okay, dad, i’m here now”

getting shot at during your reunion

“son of a bitch...we’re having a family moment here, asshole!”

yes, im gonna say it again. of course i am! and.........father/daugher team-up

the last one

“peter, is that you? you asshole! i cant believe you went to space without me!”

“missed you too!”

rhodey!! cant forget about uncle rhodey!!

“you gave my dad the message, right?”

“it was your dying wish, of course i did!”

“great. don’t forget i love you, too, rhodey!”

“couldn’t let me forget it”

lest we forget that pepper joined the fight?

plot twist: (step)mother/daughter team-up

mother/father/daugher team up!!!! ultimate stark machine!!!!!!!

and then you left him alone for 5 minutes and he’s got the infinity stones and you know it’s the last time you’re going to see him and you cant decide what your next move is and you’re just frozen and you cant catch your breath and he snaps and your heart plummets

you have to rush to his side, the last time you can sit beside his tired body and let him know that its going to be okay

“hey dad, it’s okay, we’re gonna be fine. thank you for everything”

peter grabbing your hand as you both sobbed next to your dad, feeling robbed of your time with him

pepper brought you home where she told you all about the five years you missed

both of you just cried harder than you’ve ever cried before

“so i have a sister?”

morgan was so happy to meet you, she couldn’t contain herself, practically latched onto you

and she didn’t fully understand what happened to tony

you saw your new room for the first time and didn’t leave it for a while, occasionally pepper or morgan would pop in

morgan actually crawled into bed with you a few times

the funeral was one of the worst days of your life

the remnants of your young life pulled back together for one day

then you hid back in your room before you heard a knock

“who is it?”

“it’s happy”

“come in”

“hey, kiddo. me and morgan are gonna get some cheeseburgers, you wanna come?”

she really was a stark

after a long hibernation, you started to get back into the groove of your old life

but the press was brutal and harsh, you were bombarded with questions regarding your dad

it took everything not to explode on camera

you stayed in contact with the rest of the avengers, mourning your dead, keeping the support system, staying a family

it was all you could get...for now

#tony stark x daughter!reader #tony stark imagine #tony stark x reader #tony stark #iron man x daughter!reader #iron man imagine #iron man x reader #iron man #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel #avengers x reader #avengers imagine #avengers

[starlitwhispers]

saccharine. soulsilvershipping - 2400 words A flavorless au by yours truly. happy quarter century birthday to my boo @silverbuttercups

Heat. Pounding heat. Warmth beating into his cheeks like the summer sun, except it was her instead. He can’t get it to work, he just can’t. The paints keep meshing and clumping; it’s like his sweat is mixing with the acrylics. And it’s all her fault, because she won’t get off his mind. The idea of her sits atop his head, weighing him down — it’s like he can’t breathe. The air, it’s thinning, he’s panting, the taste of her skin is flashing back into his mind — he’s panting, remembering the feeling of her panting back onto him. His mind races, his heart races, time seems like it’s elapsing faster than the speed of light —

He breaks out of his trance. The drops of sweat trickle down his scrawny biceps and a wet stain darkens the front of his dirty, yellow and faded wife-beater. He’s alone. It’s just him as he glances around his disgusting, cluttered studio. Musty, dusty, he peers at the ivory, canvas curtains by the window, and watches the specks of dirt and grime waft through the air in the beams of light peeking through the cracks. He sits in silence, redirecting his eyes to his easel once more. Trash, he thinks at first, looking at the mess of paints and lines, how there’s no depth and no character. The brown he chose doesn’t match… it’s not the right shade. Absolute trash.

Blinking, he thinks again. He does not know what day it is, or month even. Now that he no longer works in that dingy office, contact with the rest of the world has vanished. He makes his way out of the studio, trudges down the hallway and walks right past the master bedroom. The master bedroom that has been tightly shut for more than a year. All the blinds, everywhere, in every window, they are closed. Ready to-microwave meal boxes pile in the trash bin and even fleck across his kitchen floor and countertops. Not a dish in sight, except for used scotch glasses with empty bottles not too far behind. His bed, the couch, has multiple blankets sprawled across it and a coffee table in front full of trash. His eyes focus on the trash, or more specifically, the crumpled up balls of his sketch pad paper. The balls of paper could be found as far as the corners of the kitchen floor, behind the counter and by the fridge.

He has quite the arm, although he appears thin. His strength multiplies with his frustration and anger. He sits himself in a rather indented spot on the couch, less cushioned than the rest of the sofa from months of his weight pressed in this one area. His hand reaches for the remote and turns on the television, afterwards he fixes himself a glass of scotch in a used glass nearby and his fingers shimmy their way into his back pocket. From within, his index and middle fingers pull out a cigarette box. He shoves a smoke between his dry lips and lights it. Between the alcohol and the nicotine, it’s just enough.

Just enough to get the taste of her out of his mouth. For now.

He sits back as he watches the afternoon news. He stares at the journalist���s lips, sees how they curve into coy smiles as she laughs at the corny jokes the daily anchorman voices over into her ear. Just another normal girl, reporting normal things, in her normal life, he observes. Disgusting, he reflects, a normal life is disgusting.

He huffs the cigarette smoke towards the living room ceiling, shutting his eyes. Reminiscing the day he first moved into the home, how bright, clean, and airy it felt then. It’s almost as if everything else in the house is a shell of its former self… including him. A couple envelopes shoot through the golden lips of his front door — today’s mail has arrived — he thinks about the stacks of mail piling by his front door. He makes a faint guess she has not changed her mailing address on some things yet, which gives him false hope on good days or this burning misery that perhaps she has moved on in more ways than one. Changed her name? Married? Then again, she never came back for any of her other belongings. Maybe she already had a back up plan set in motion.

But the truth is, he never saw it coming. Perhaps that is what makes the stinging pain after all this time feel so fresh. What was that, she said a long time ago? That she loved him? He sniggers at himself, at his stupidity, at his unfulfilling life that he tirelessly plays out everyday. At the end of his frumpy sofa, his cellphone rings. Or, at least, he feels the vibrations.

In foolish—hopeless—optimism, he shoves his fist into the edge of the couch digging around for the device. Frantically, he drudges it up from the crevice, along with stray hairs and crumbs, and his eyes yearningly glance over the caller ID. His heart falls beneath the pits of his stomach. It’s just his PR agent. Disappointed, he declines the call and tosses his phone onto the coffee table. He stares at it, somewhat in disbelief and somewhat dismayed with himself for even hoping for it. For her.

By the moment the sun sets, he fiddles with his phone, his finger hovering over the dial button on her number… Of course, he does not call her. He shoves the device into his back pocket. Of course, by the moment the sun sets, he has finished another bottle and another pack. And he has passed out on the living room sofa, again. In a drunken stupor, he awakens, angry, and storms the hallway to his studio. Throwing a blank canvas to the easel, he begins his work once again until dawn. And in this instance, he allows the idea of her to drown him, flood his lungs like the oils and acrylics starting to spatter his body, until all he breathes is the image of her. An exposé of his love, his hatred, his loneliness. They have banned nudity everywhere except the museums.

Wasn’t that their first date? A museum? He stops mid-stroke and clutches his brush a little tighter. He tries to remember, when was the last time he was in a museum?

…Just like the day before, the sun begins to peak through his blinds, but this time, the work before him satisfies. His paint covered fingers nestle their way into his pocket, he presses the dial key and lifts the phone to his ear. The recipient of his call picks up.

The voice on the other end starts, “Hey, dude, I’ve been trying to reach you—”

“I’ve got something good,” the artists interrupts.

“Well, why didn’t you say so earlier?! I’ll be over later to check it out.”

----

“And, that’s all the time we have for today, love,” her producer tells her from the side as the cameraman lowers the device from his shoulder.

She sighs, scratches the back of her ear, and smiles in unison with a nod. A small drop of sweat trickles from her temple, why does she have to be the on-scene reporter today? She saunters to the news channel’s van and with its open side door, she scoops a cold water bottle from the mini cooler. The sun continues to beat down on her rose-tinted cheeks. The buzzing of cicadas whiz through her ears and into her thoughts… some guy from work had asked her out for drinks later tonight, but suddenly she’s feeling a raincheck about to be typed on her phone.

She’s not ready yet. How can she be? Her right hand absentmindedly finds its way to her other hand, brushing over her now naked ring finger. A shame, really, that it didn’t work out. She really wishes it would have.

“You can head home now, of course,” her producer begins. “Do you need a ride home?”

“No, thank you,” she respectfully declines. “I think I’ll walk home.”

The staff executive eyes her in confusion, as she clearly does not enjoy the summer heat. He shrugs his shoulders in defeat, “Whatever floats your boat, honey.”

The young brunette collects her bag from the van and stuffs her hand into it, rummaging for make-up remover wipes. She takes out her compact and begins cleansing her face. If she plans to walk home, she would rather not be recognized. However unfortunate people may see it, her occupation does come with some less than desired fans. To top off her “disguise,” she removes the hair clip, lets her hair down and places a pair of sunglasses over her eyes.

On her way home, she stops by a local café for refreshment and a boost of energy. Sitting for a moment in the air conditioned shop, she takes frequent sips of her hazelnut iced coffee.

“Have you seen the new exhibition at the museum yet?” She overhears two young students chat with each other. “It’s honestly incredible.”

“Really? I guess I’ll have to check it out later today. Who’s it by?” The other voice asks.

She finally takes the last sip through the straw, and the liquid slurps from the leftover ice.

“Oh, uh… I forget his name… He was really popular a few years ago, though,” the first voice falters.

The young reporter stands up, slugs her bag strap over her shoulder, and heads for the door.

“Uh, Silver, something?” The first voice remembers. “He’s actually supposed to be at the exhibition today, doing an expository with some press over his inspiration and meaning.”

As the bell rings with her opening the door, she throws her empty cup into the trash followed by an exuberant “thank you for coming!” from the barista behind the counter.

She did not hear the last part from the student in the café.

In her trek home, she stops in front of the museum. In the pit of her stomach, she feels bubbling. Her intestines become upset from anxiety and emotions she wished to never feel again flash back into her senses. That feeling, of dread somehow turned into addictive ecstasy, floods into her veins, and her feet compel her to enter against her better judgment.

As she passes through all the marble walls, the scent of the canvases and oil paintings make her heart race and palms sweat. She anticipates something bad will happen, as something bad always happened when they were together.

All his rough yelling, all their petty disagreements over the things she wanted and the things he did not want, all the noise of hatred bred from what she promised to be forever with him. Stopping to admire a piece, she realizes that has become far from reality. Forever with him… part of her wishes she could go back and part of her desires ever so strongly to never see him again.

In the depth of these paint strokes, she observes and ruminates. What if she were to return and to feel his cracked, warm lips against hers? The sweat of his red hairs behind his neck as they pressed their bodies together, hearing his grunts.

She swallows. She’s warm at the thought of someone she hasn’t touched in almost three years. Being his wife isn’t the worst thing she has done when she thinks about the things they have done together in bed… Her tongue wets the bottom lip and she bites down. This is wrong, she thinks to herself, she left him for a reason. A good reason.

All the miserable nights, the crying, the loneliness. She cannot see him again. If she sees him again, it might sway her. She may want him back. She cannot see him again.

She wants him back.

—--

Here he stands, a month after the original piece he produced in a drunk, inspired stupor, with a brand new exhibition. His agent clinks a glass of champagne to the drink in his own hand, a smile plastered all over his consultant’s face. Of course there is a smile all over his face, the work he has promoted to the city has doubled the money in his pockets. Although the actual artist himself could care less for the revenue. He glances around the section of the gallery that has been sectioned off for exclusively his exhibition and the expository conference.

In his mind, the worst part of this event has ended. The few cameras and interviewers have left and now only art dealers, consultants, and critics remain. The moment he realizes he can slip away to breathe on his own, without being bombarded by awful, intrusive questions he can’t be bothered to answer, he does so. The other areas of the museum are far quieter and the company of the crowd makes his scotch taste bad. As he takes small, frequent sips with each step, he would much rather be drunk at home away from all these people.

He has finally done something he promised himself he wouldn’t ever do again: create art inspired by her. That alone makes him want to become blackout wasted. Or so he thought. He stops in his tracks as he downs the last drop of his drink. I should have just grabbed the damn bottle.

Standing a couple feet from him, peering into a painting, the nightmare from hell that dragged him down under and left him there. Dropping the glass in his hand, he doesn’t think much before his body moves towards her—all the anger manifested inside of him—she quickly becomes aware of his on-coming presence, surprised by the sound of broken glass and his person, and he grabs her by the shoulders.

Forcing her against the wall, she still stares wide-eyed in shock and he does not to hesitate to press his mouth against hers with ferocity. Her eyes still agape, he slips his tongue in quickly and gruffly releases her from his grip. He stares down into her eyes with disdain and she stares back with confusion.

“Silver, I—“ she begins, her voice somewhat hoarse from surprise.

But his expression silences her. He brutishly wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and turns away from her. He starts walking away.

In that swift instance, he realizes.

He does not want her back.

#soulsilvershipping #soulsilver #hgss #rival silver #Trainer Kotone #trainer lyra #pokemon

[mikwrites-archive]

order up!

❧ pairing: boo seungkwan x reader        ❧ warnings: none! ❧ genre: 24 hour diner worker seungkwan and jihoon, fluff, slight crack, reader is implied to be a student        ❧ wc: 1.8k

❧ a/n: my first ever svt collab and fic for seungkwan !! i’m so honoured and happy to be a part of this, so thank you for putting this together and including me @merakiiverse​ and @woozisnoots​ !! 

❧ masterlist: here (check out all the amazing writers!)

Seungkwan always hated the bell.

It was piercingly loud whenever it rang, often abused by young children, looked like hundreds of diseases rested upon the metal, and reminded Seungkwan of the horrid ordeal of being at the service of absolute strangers.

He supposes it’s one of the sole good things that come with the late shifts, not having to hear the sound of the customer bell. 

Until one night it rings, and although he doesn’t know it yet, he ends up being glad it did, and that he was there to hear it.

Though it was really Jihoon who did.

“We’ve got a customer.” Jihoon blinks, sitting up suddenly at the second trill, and Seungkwan’s eyebrows crease, lips parting in disbelief and disgust as he looks up from his screen disorientedly.

“At this time?”

Jihoon nods grimly, and for a tense moment, both of them stare at each other before their hands flash out, one in a rock firm fist, and the other in scissors.

“It’s always me.” Seungkwan grumbles, clambering up off the rickety stool, pushing his phone away facedown on the table, while Jihoon giggles.

Seungkwan adjusts his uniform briefly while the bell chirps once more, the paperlike boat hat, the red candy cane striped apron, and yelps when he gets struck in the arm with a crumpled piece of paper.

“Hey!”

“Stop stalling.” Jihoon orders, pressing another piece of paper between his hands threateningly, and Seungkwan glares at him but obliges all the same.

He’s not sure what he expected when he walked out to the front of the diner, but he still finds himself surprised when he’s faced with you, fingers hovering over the steel bell, about to ring it again.

“Sorry.” You both blurt simultaneously, as you draw your hand away from the bell, and Seungkwan takes his place at the till hurriedly. You’re not sure how long you stand there for, but Seungkwan keeps track almost obsessively, in the awkward atmosphere, breaking it to ask a question.

“Do you, uh, know what you want to order?”

“Not really.” You admit sheepishly. 

Seungkwan bites his tongue to hold back a scream. You’d been standing there for the past ten minutes, staring up at the retro-neon lit menu above his head, gnawing at your fingernail, and he’s relieved when you realize your habit, lowering your hand guiltily. Yet nothing can assuage his annoyance at the fact that he’s so close to finally beating this level on Candy Crush, but is stuck in what seems like an endless loop of time with you.

It was often like that in the diner at the late hours, the retro atmosphere of checkered details, fluorescent lights, and faded photographs made it seem like the small restaurant was separated from linear space and time. It also called for the most interesting customers, rare in appearance but true, ranging from heartbroken halves of couples, dazed stoners, and graveyard shift workers; time travellers, if Seungkwan was to continue by the same comparison to the location, and he almost smiled at the silly thought. 

“Do you recommend anything?” 

“Uh…” Seungkwan purses his lips. “The milkshakes are pretty good.”

You tuck one of your legs behind the other, surveying the menu once more, and choosing a milkshake seemingly randomly.

Order up! Seungkwan thinks when he slides the frosted glass over to you, yet has no need to say it as the restaurant is fairly empty. 

He feels it’s wrong to leave you alone once he sets it in front of you, but doesn’t know what to say as you sit on the leather stool and sip at your drink.

“Is it good?”

“Mhm.” You nod, swallowing. “Thanks Seungkwan.”

“How did you…”

You tap your chest amusingly, and Seungkwan flushes, fumbling with his name tag.

“Right.” He pauses. “Y’know I always thought it was unfair that random people get to know our names on display, but don’t have to do the same.”

“Well, I’ll tell you my name if it makes you feel better.”

He waits expectantly, and you give it to him with a grin that he returns with a warm flutter in his chest. He blames it on his exhausted state.

Seungkwan wasn’t not one to linger over customers, but he can’t help but wonder if you’ll ever come back, and maybe he wouldn’t mind if you rang the bell. Just maybe.

Seungkwan comes to regret his words at your fourth visit.

He’s come to expect the sound of the bell at night, so as he trudges out, expecting you to be standing there with a cheeky smile (knowing fully his distaste for the instrument), and finds nothing and no one, a prickle of fear sends goosebumps washing over him, with good reason.

“Boo!”

“Oh my god!” Seungkwan screams, stumbling backwards, clutching his chest frantically. “Don’t- don’t do that!”

Jihoon comes out brandishing a baseball bat, yelling, only to freeze when he sees you, bent over laughing, and Seungkwan, on the verge of murder or tears, he’s not entirely sure.

“Hey, Jihoon.” You wave, wiping at your eyes, and the boy lowers the bat, waving back.

“I almost died and all you have to say is ‘hey, Jihoon’?” 

“I’ll buy you a milkshake, you big baby.” You promise placatingly, and Seungkwan huffs.

“Fries too.” 

“Of course.” 

Jihoon smiles at the interaction, and Seungkwan makes a note to question him about his expression later.

They both sit with you, one on each side, passing the fries along with minimal scuffles, a milkshake each sitting in front of you as you chat. 

“Most interesting customer you served today, go.” You pinch your plastic straw, swirling it around slowly as you flick your gaze between the two. Jihoon sneaks his hand towards the basket of fries in front of you, and Seungkwan sends him a dirty look, but it doesn’t deter the boy.

“Probably those Disneyland cast members. Dressed up in their costumes and everything. It was pretty cool.” Jihoon speaks through a mouthful of fried potato. 

You both turn your heads towards Seungkwan who blinks at the sudden attention, flustered.

“I dunno. We serve a lot of people.” 

“Just say it’s me.” You croon, and Jihoon laughs, as Seungkwan rolls his eyes.

He didn’t want to admit just how right you were.

“What’s that look for?” 

Seungkwan blinks at Jihoon suspiciously as they unpack their belongings for that night’s shift. “You’ve been giving me weird looks lately.”

“You like them, don’t you?” It’s asked plainly, and Seungkwan fumbles with his nametag, sending it clattering to the floor. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you staring at them all the time and bolting up at every little sound as if it were the bell ringing. And not to mention whatever that is.” He gestures to the bag in Seungkwan’s locker. 

Denial is at the tip of Seungkwan’s tongue but he swallows it bitterly for the truth. 

“Maybe. But it’s not like-”

“I think you’d be surprised.” Jihoon cuts him off with a glare, already knowing what he was trying to utter deprecatingly. 

Seungkwan doesn’t get to respond, the bell ringing out, and Jihoon smirks at the way his friend immediately perks up at the sound. Seungkwan ignores the expression, grabbing the bag and walking briskly out.

“Here.”

You look at the plastic bag he slides over the counter questioningly, pinching the crinkling material aside as you peek at the contents within.

“What…” You trail off, glancing up at Seungkwan who coughs, looking down at his feet, suddenly awkward.

“You said you’ve been really stressed lately, and I figured you wouldn’t be taking care of yourself so I thought I’d get you a few things.”

“You didn’t-”

“I wanted to.” Seungkwan glances up hesitantly. “Also, you’re always here so late. You should sleep more.”

“Yeah.” You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose before grinning tiredly at him. “I probably look like hell right now.”

“Just a little.” 

You smack him on the arm, laughing, and he joins you.

“I’m kidding.” He clarifies after the laughs dispelled, shifting to a serious, almost bashful tone. “You always look really nice.”

Jihoon would call it true love, the way Seungkwan switches from complimenting and being annoyed by you, and the way you seem to easily flow with the changes. 

“Why are you always here?” Seungkwan groans as your structure constructed of straws, utensils, and napkins collapses, sending them flying across the counter and onto the floor. “Why do I always lose rock paper scissors?”

“Why are you always here?” You know his exasperated complaints aren’t truly meant, smiling. “Did you lose rock paper scissors to get these shifts too?”

Seungkwan is quiet, and you blink, sputtering a laugh as you lean forwards, propping your elbow on the counter, incredulous. 

“Wait, no way.”

“It’s not always rock paper scissors.” Seungkwan mutters, bottom lip jutting out slightly. “Sometimes we draw straws or play another game.”

“Jihoon lost with you too?” You cock your head with a grin towards the boy hunched over his laptop in one of the booths, headphones slipped over his head, having stated matter of factly (and completely out of his ass) that no one else was going to enter for the rest of the night after you. The hat that was a part of their uniform was still on his head, paired with his focused expression, it was a comically adorable sight; an observation you shared with Seungkwan later who advised you to keep it to yourself. 

“Nah. Jihoon has always been a night owl. He works hard. I have to remind him to take vitamins and stuff so he doesn’t just faint or something.”

Seungkwan catches your small smile, and feels a stab of envy, words falling past his lips before he can stop them.

“What, do you like Jihoon or something?”

“No. Well, not in the way you’re implying.” You lean forwards on the counter curiously. “Do you like Jihoon?”

“What?” Seungkwan sputters. “No. Not in the way you’re implying at least.”

“I think there’s an echo in here.” You muse with a smile. “Maybe I like you, ever thought of that?”

“Oh, be quiet.” Seungkwan huffs, busying himself with picking up whatever materials dropped on his side of the counter from your construction to hide his flush. 

“I just told you I liked you, and you told me to be quiet?” 

“You didn’t tell me you liked me, you were just teasing.” He stands, crossing his arms adamantly, hiding his racing heart and shaking hands, and you laugh. “Don’t play with my heart like that.”

“Well, I’m not. I like you. I like you Boo Seungkwan, just in case you thought I was talking to the wall or something.” 

“Oh, shut up.” The tip of his ears burn, but he can’t help the giddy smile on his face, and you match it.

“Do you want to go out sometime? Maybe in the day, and y’know, not here.” You giggle, and Seungkwan grins.

“Name the time, and we can go anywhere.”

❧ taglist: @seijoh​ @soranihimawari​ @peachy-yabbay​

#caratwritersclub #seungkwan x reader #seungkwan imagines #boo seungkwan x reader #boo seungkwan imagines #svt imagines #svt x you #svt x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #posting early bc i have too much work to do later so hopefully people see this HWJBSDFJHS

[exoticarmy127]

🎧 Track 10: Unsaid Emily by Charlie Gillespie

🎵  “If I could take us back, if I could just do that And write in every empty space, the words "I love you" in replace Then maybe time would not erase me.

Featuring: BTS - Jungkook

OC - Emily Mei

Some time before.

They say words are like bullets. Easy to pull the trigger without thinking... easier said that once done, it’s impossible for the damage to be undone.

“So what, you’re sick of it? Is that what you’re saying?” Jungkook shouted as he shoved his song book into his backpack. The night had been going well and for once, he thought they could have one night—one night where he didn’t feel like pulling his hair out for once.  

“Stop putting words in my mouth, Jungkook! That’s not what I’m saying at all!” Emily shouted back as the fight escalated into a crescendo of screams and shouts. It was always about the same thing: Jungkook being too busy with his music; Emily being too busy with her studies to make time for him when he’s off practice; not having enough time for each other; not wanting to communicate; blah, blah, blah...

Jungkook was sick of it. Things were finally looking up for his band and he had poured his entire heart and soul into it. His passion. He thought Emily understood that. He thought she understood him. But to his confusion, Emily didn’t seem too happy about it.

“Really? Because it sure as hell sounds like you’re done.” He seethed. “Hell—I’m done with this sh*t!”

Silence enveloped the room and for a moment the world stopped. The fight had reached its final curtain call and Jungkook hoped there wouldn’t be an encore.

Emily looked at him, bewildered. “Jungkook...”

“Save it. I have rehearsals in fifteen. I’m already late and the guys are already at the studio. I don’t need a distraction.”

“Distraction?” She echoed as she watched him pick up his things and head for the door. Her expression contorts into something in between anger and confusion. “So what? You’re just going to leave it like that? Don’t you even care about this? About us?

“What about it?” He muttered flatly, but Emily looked like she had just been slapped.

“What about it? What exactly are you saying, Guk?” Her voice was a low whisper, like a dormant volcano just waiting to erupt. Jungkook sighed and it sounded exhausted, irritated, even; like he had already erupted and this was just the messy aftermath.

“I’m saying I’m done.” He whirled at her, his eyes empty of their usual love and affection, replaced by fierce anger and deadly sincerity. “I’m done, all right? I don’t wanna do this any more than you do.”

“Y-you don't mean that. Hell, you’re thinking I’m the villain here but all I’m saying is that if you don’t give time to what’s important to you, you’re gonna end up losing them.”

Her words hit him square in the chest and when it should have made him sad, it only angered him more.

So she’s giving up on me. She’s letting go. She doesn’t want this—doesn’t want me—anymore.

“I should get to practice already before I lose it, then.”

Jungkook knew it was the wrong answer but he couldn’t give in now. The tension was palpable in the room and he held his breath for another round of sharp words and accusations. But it never came. Emily stood there, stunned, while Jungkook continued to pack his belongings, purposely avoiding her gaze. He knew that if he looked at her now, he'd break, and they’d be back to square one. They’d make up only to fight again by the end of the week.

He could hear her sniffing and he bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from looking up at her. If there was one thing he hated more than fighting, it was seeing her cry.

“Look,” Emily started, her voice hoarse. “You’re just angry. We can talk after—“

“Well, I’ve been angry for a long time.” Jungkook grumbled as he made his way to the door, hastily.

“Guk, please...”

He paused by the threshold when he heard the crack in her voice and he hated how easy it could beckon him. He closed his hand into fists and pressed his lips into a thin line. He looked down at the floors of her apartment, one he had considered home more than his own for as long as he could remember.

“Let’s face it, Em. We obviously want different things now.”

“Do you really believe that?” She asked but he didn’t answer. She took a step closer, their forms lit by the single light bulb in the narrow hallway. “If you really do, then I won’t stop you.”

Jungkook lifted his gaze to the ceiling, closed his eyes and sighed. “Look, I’m tired of fighting.” He looked at her over his shoulder, his eyes cold and unyielding. “Aren’t you?”

Without another word, he slipped out the door, shutting it behind him. The click of the lock sounded much like an end... A period... A goodbye.

Jungkook left that night not knowing he’d carry the weight of his words for a very long time.

~~~

Some time after.

Jungkook gripped the guitar strap on his shoulder as he walked the empty halls of his old high school. The late afternoon sun casted orange hues across the tiled halls and over the metal lockers lining the wall. A couple of students emerged from a door to his right, but they paid him no mind and walked past him, busily talking to each other. Jungkook paused and looked over his shoulder, watching them hold hands before completely disappearing from his view as they rounded a corner. He looked down at his own hand and sighed.

He remembered it like it was yesterday: the very first time he held her hand...or rather, the first time he felt something when he did.

Flashback

Jungkook leaned against Emily’s locker, giving her one of his famed puppy eyes he knew she couldn’t resist. “Em, come on… Let’s just ditch school today and go rehearse.”

“At this rate, you’ll have to make me a member of your band.”

“You are a member. An honorary one, at least.” Jungkook grinned and batted his pretty eyes. Emily rolled her eyes but he caught the small smile tugging on the corner of her mouth.

Her very pretty mouth...

Wait, what? Jungkook blinked at the thought and cleared his throat when he felt the heat creeping to his cheeks.

“You okay?” Emily cocked an eyebrow at him and he straightened and crossed his arms, defensively.

“Fine. Now come on! Say yes.”

“No.”

“Boo.”

Emily chuckled and patted his shoulder. The action was meant to be friendly but Jungkook felt like he had been shot by lightning, his eyes in a daze as he stared at her playful smile.

“You’ll thank me later for dragging your ass back to class. Trust me.”

The hall bell rang and both their heads darted up to the ceiling.

“Sh*t! We’re gonna be late.” Emily panicked but Jungkook only leaned against the lockers again, lips curling into a smirk.

“Well, you know what they say, it’s better never than late.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, while Emily scoffed and rolled her eyes.

“That’s not how the saying goes!”

“Not in my book. Come on, let’s just skip it and—whoa!” Emily grabbed his hand and before Jungkook could process the warmth on his skin, she was dragging him through the hallway so fast; the two of them running to class hand in hand.

Jungkook was winded by the time they reached the classroom, but it wasn’t because they just rushed to the other side of the building in record time...

But because the whole time they did, not once did she let go, and it was electrifying.

End of flashback

The memory faded like a song on the radio and Jungkook’s grip on his guitar tightened. He didn’t have much time. He had to do this before...

Before it’s too late again.  

The sun was setting soon and Jungkook walked faster as he made his way to the room he was looking for. It was weird walking through these hallways. He knew where everything was. It was familiar and yet also strange, like he no longer belonged.  

That’s because I probably don’t. Not anymore... he thought bitterly.

He reached the second floor and walked to the end of the left corridor where the music room was located.

He opened the door and sighed in relief when he found it empty. He let himself in and wandered, seeing all the instruments and music sheets scattered around the room. There’s a platform at the very front, a low stage with a white screen covering it, which he supposed was either meant to be a curtain of sorts for performances or for video presentations. To its right was an open window with a sheen curtain, overlooking the quadrangle.

Jungkook found the teacher’s table to his right and ambled towards it. He reached for his song book inside his jacket and flipped through the wrinkled pages until it was on the most important page before putting it down on the desk. Next, he reached into his back pocket and retrieved a small tape recorder. He placed the device beside the song book and pressed play.

Footsteps sounded from outside and Jungkook looked back in panic before rushing to the stage and hiding behind the screen.

The door opened to voices of girls and boys but one in particular rose among them; familiar and so very...her.

“Alright guys, I’ll see what I can do, okay? And don’t be late for practice! The competition is in two weeks. And what did I always say?”

“Practice doesn’t make us perfect but it makes us better.” The students all said in unison and Jungkook smiled. He used to tell her that whenever she caught him practicing too late (which was 99% of the time).

“Okay. See you tomorrow, guys.”

“Bye, Ms. Mei!”

Jungkook swallowed as he tried to sneak a peek from behind the screen. He held his breath as he watched a woman close the door, and then turned towards the room. Emily stood there in jeans and a button-down blouse with her hair tied up in a ponytail. She was radiant as ever and looked something out of a movie scene. Jungkook smiled sadly as he gazed at her from behind the screen. She looked the same but also different, which he supposed was how time passed for people you loved...

Love.

She suddenly looked to the other side of the room, and from where Jungkook stood, it felt like she was looking right at him. Even though he knew it was impossible, his heart skipped a beat.

He held his breath as she made her way to her desk, not yet noticing the change in it. He chewed on his lip, a habit of his when he was nervous, and watched as she picked up instruments and placed them into their proper cases before finally reaching the table to organize a bunch of papers and sheet music lying around.

She lifted one of the sheets and paused, and Jungkook knew she saw it.

He stared as her face morphed from confusion, to curiosity, then to shock. She looked up, eyes looking wildly around her as if she’d find the person who left the notebook there.

She never would.

Jungkook looked down at his watch then at the open window, seeing the sun slowly sinking into the horizon, turning the skies pink and purple.

It’s time.

The sun’s rays casted a golden glow against his face and shadows crawled against the wooden floors of the music room.

Jungkook took a deep breath and watched her through the screen. He waited for a few breaths for the light to cast over the screen just right... just until he knew his shadow could be seen on the other side. When it finally did, he felt the magic spark against his skin and found his voice at last.

“Emily.”

Emily looked up at the voice, her expression somewhere in the middle of shock and fear and...sorrow.

“Who’s there…?” Her voice cracked and it sounded less of a question as her face showed recognition. Jungkook supposed he should be happy she could still remember his voice. All those nights he sang to her came rushing back and the pain in his chest grew... One he knew he could never quell.

“Don’t be afraid. It’s just me.”

Emily lets out a gasp and drops the papers she was holding. The sheets flew in all directions but she couldn’t seem to care. She turned around in a circle, looking for the impossible. But she couldn’t see anything. It was then that she laid eyes on the recorder playing on the table.

“Jungkook?” She whispered in disbelief.

“I-I know it’s sudden. But there are some things I didn’t get to say to you... that night.”

Jungkook brought his guitar to his front, letting the instrument fit against his body like second skin. Emily always told him that he carried and played it like it was a part of him. When she said that, he’d hold her hand and tell her that if there was one thing he considered a part of him, it would be her.

Back then, he meant it to be a cheesy, adoring boyfriend. Now, it was the hard truth that slapped him across the face.

“H-how is this...” Emily’s voice shook, her head turning and eyes brimming with tears as she stared wide-eyed at the tape recorder on the table.

Jungkook inhaled deeply and as he breathed out, the first few notes sounded from his guitar, his fingers moving deftly against the frets and strings like he had never stopped playing in the first place. Music was always a part of his DNA, an extension of his soul. When he played, he played with his whole heart and right now as she stared at Emily reading the page on his song book, he sang with his everything.

First things first

We start the scene in reverse

All of the lines rehearsed

Disappeared from my mind

Jungkook closed his eyes and let the music take over. People said actions spoke louder than words, but for Jungkook, his music had always been his way of showing how he truly felt. The loudest way he could express what he felt. Wearing his heart on his sleeve, he told her all the things he should’ve done...

When things got loud

One of us running out

I should've turned around

But I had too much pride

Emily covered her lips with a shaking hand and Jungkook knew she was thinking about the last time they had seen each other. How they both said some horrible things, words thrown at each recklessly without thought. Jungkook treated it like a sport. Who could say the worst things? Who would break first and give in? Even when he knew there was no chance of either of them winning.

He wasn’t even sure why he fought when he knew she was just trying to save the one thing he knew he would regret most. More than his music, Emily meant everything to him.

No time for goodbyes

Didn't get to apologize

Pieces of a clock that lies broken

Regrets were often made from the things you thought were right at the moment. Jungkook had known he made the wrong one the moment he stepped out of that door. But he just couldn’t swallow his pride and walked away. And now, he’s stuck in that moment, thinking of what could’ve been if he just turned around...

If I could take us back, if I could just do that

And write in every empty space the words "I love you" in replace

Then maybe time would not erase me

~~~

Emily trembled as she read the words, her hand splayed on the page, her fingertips tracing Jungkook’s familiar messy scrawls. The words were written in haste, which in Jungkook’s music vocabulary meant they were written with the most emotion. She could see it in the curve of his letters, in the way the ink bled through the page, showing that he was gripping the pen too tightly in either excitement or frustration. He saw it in the scrawls, the words scratched over as he struggled to find the right words—the right lyrics that will reflect his feelings. A tear fell from her eye.

The one thing Emily learned about Jungkook in the years that they were together was that he wasn’t the most expressive of people. He was quiet, always in his own world, in his own music headspace. But Emily knew him like the back of her hand. So well that she could easily tell what he was feeling through his eyes.

She couldn’t forget the night he left and how he gazed at her...like he was done, like he didn’t love her anymore.

If you could only know I'd never let you go

And the words I most regret are the ones I never meant to leave...

Unsaid Emily.

Emily loved Jungkook’s music. It was one of the things he loved about him. So when his career started to take off, she did nothing but support him. It was given blindly out of love and belief that he could make it big. That his talent was big enough for the world.

But she never thought of the consequences. Never thought his dreams would be the reason he would drift father away from her each day, until they were no more than just strangers.

But Jungkook would never be a stranger, she thought sadly. A heartbreaking memory, perhaps. But never a stranger.

~~~

Silent days, mysteries and mistakes

Who'd be the first to break?

Guess we're alike that way

The problem with two people who were both passionate and strong-willed was that they were both willing to prove they’re right. Near the end of their relationship, they barely even talked. The silence deafening and stretching for days on end...

Jungkook wished he broke the silent spell then and shouted out from the rooftops how much he loved her.

He said, she said

Conversations in my head

And that's just where they're gonna stay forever

Emily’s tears began to fall, the tears staining the paper in front of her as she read the lyrics. Her hands shook, her heart ached in her chest, and it felt like with every note and every line, her heart cracked just a little bit… her once broken heart, breaking once again.

When he walked out that night, she forgot to say should’ve asked him...

Stay.

If I could take us back, if I could just do that

And write in every empty space the words "I love you" in replace

Then maybe time would not erase me

If you could only know I'd never let you go

And the words I most regret are the ones I never meant to leave

Unsaid Emily

Emily sank to her knees, shaking and crying as she held the song book to her chest. The echoes of the song still ringing in her ears. Jungkook watched with tears in his eyes. If there was one thing he hated more than anything, it was seeing the love of his life crying and being the reason for it.

She cried for the time they wasted fighting. He cried for the time stolen from him and could never get back. But most of all, they cried for the time—and love they lost.

“I’m sorry.” He croaked as the tears continued to fall. “I never meant it. I was never tired.”

Emily looked up at his words, her eyes zeroing in on the screen. Jungkook gasped as it felt like she was looking right at him.

The sun was so low that he could catch the blue hour slipping through that small window of time from the way the shadows began to disappear. He held his breath as she walked towards the platform, the song book clutched to her chest. With the remaining light, he hoped she could see him.

“Guk?”

Jungkook choked out a sob as he reached out to the screen and spread his palm over it. Emily’s breath hitched as she lifted her right hand over it, until they were hand to hand.

Jungkook let out a shaky breath when he saw the shadow of her hand against his through the screen. She’s so close...

And yet lifetimes apart.

“I-I don’t know what’s happening but you have to know…” Emily whispered to the wind but Jungkook heard her loud and clear. “I forgive you. And I’m sorry, too.”

Jungkook shook his head. He should’ve been relieved but he wasn’t. He wasn’t because one stupid decision costed him so much. Costed him a life with the person he loved the most.

It’s almost time...

A voice reverberated in his head, making his heart quicken in panic. I don’t have much time, he wanted to say. But he knew there was only ever one thing left to say…

“Emily, I lo—”

The sun dipped and the shadow disappeared from the screen, leaving the room dark and blue with the beginnings of silver moonlight shining from the window. And then there was an eerie silence.

Emily gasped when a gust of wind blew through the open window, turning the page of the song book to the next...

She cried even more when she read the three words written in his handwriting.

~~~

Some time in between.

Jungkook finished the song at midnight, his fingertips scarred from playing his guitar for hours, his hand dotted with ink stains, and his chest heaving from satisfaction and excitement as he stared at the open page in front of him.

It’s done.

“Now I just have to sing it to her.” Jungkook licked his lips as he turned to the next page and wrote the words: I love you. 

He looked up at the clock and saw the time but he didn’t care. He'd break in through her window if he had to.

Emily had to know how he felt. It had been two days since the big fight and Jungkook couldn’t eat or sleep. He knew he should’ve returned to her immediately, but he had to wait. He had to show her he was sorry. And he had to do it in the most sincere way possible… through song.

With his guitar on his back, he took his bike and kicked his foot against the asphalt with his song book rolled and tucked in his back pocket.

He raced through the streets, ready to tell her the words... “I’m sorry”... “I’m not tired”... “I don’t hate you...”

I love you.

With thoughts of Emily and her bright, kind eyes, Jungkook sped across an intersection. There was a sudden searing light, a ringing in his ears, and...

Then nothing.

The last thing Jungkook remembered was the sight of broken wood pieces and strings... and the lyrics to a song unsung with words unsaid.

End 

Hello, my dears! Did you miss me? I loved this song so much and it inspired me so thought I’d express it through fanfic. haha!

I hope everyone is staying safe and well. It’s been a weird past few months (or year really) but we’re pushing through and I hope you are too! I hope you guys enjoyed this scenario. Even though it made you cry (hell it made me cry!) Btw, this song is from the sound track of the Netflix series, Julie and the Phantoms. Go watch it if you haven’t! It’s good! I am hoping for a season 2~

Do let me know what you think of this and let me know if you guys have some song recs for this series. ;)

- Kaye Allen

LSS PLAYLIST ; mobile 

#LSS #love song series #Jungkook scenarios #Jeon Jungkook #networkbangtan #bts scenarios #bangtan scenarios #Jungkook #BTS Jungkook #BTS #Bangtan #songs #Julie and the Phantoms #Luke Patterson #Charlie Gillepsie #Netflix serie #Netflix series #BTS JK #Bangtan Boys #bts fanfic #bangtan fanfiction #fanfiction #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #Kpop fic

[nev3rfound]

night time wanderer : b.b

brief summary: for months you’ve had struggled sleeping, and one night bucky can’t help but intervene

word count: 1.6k requested: nope, something i felt like writing for some good ol’ fluff warnings: none that i’m aware of

(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website know it isn’t me. all rights reserved. - thank you to everyone who helped regarding the wattpad situation, you’re all amazing)

masterlistin’

permanent taglist

You’d always wait at least an hour before creeping out of your bed, carefully pulling the sheets back and fluffing up the pillows before wandering toward the door. Since you started this, you’ve learnt which floorboards to avoid that creak loudly, and which remain silent.

It was a full mission simply to reach your door unnoticed, but somehow you’ve been pulling it off for months now, undetected.

At least, that’s what you thought.

You weren’t sure how long it had been happening, it could’ve been a few months or maybe closer to a year? Whenever it started, it made a point to stick around.

The correct terminology would labelling yourself an insomniac, the inability to sleep. And to be perfectly honest, it was lousy and you hated the fact you were unable to close your eyes and drift off. Instead, you would stare at your ceiling, counting sheep or listening to relaxing piano. You tried it all, until you simply gave up.

By the time you gave up, you began to wander around the compound at night. You aimlessly wandered the halls or settled in the communal lounge with a book until dawn. When everyone else slowly filed into the kitchen, you could simply play it off as being the first up. No one questioned it, because no one took the time to notice the bags under your eyes.

All except for Bucky.

Tonight was no different, you were all sitting together in the lounge, laughing about memories from previous missions when time got away from you all.

One by one, the Avengers disappeared around the compound, making their way back to their beds. You left in between Thor and Sam, a lot later than the likes of Steve and Tony.

Once the doors were all closed, and the lights in the compound softened you were out. You wrap a dressing gown around your frame and grab those fluffy socks that keep your feet warm against the cool tiles and follow wherever your feet take you.

But this time, you weren’t alone.

His blue eyes followed you as he peeked through his doorframe, watching you dragging yourself off through the compound, humming a tune he heard before. “Where you going, Y/n?” He mutters to himself, watching as you wait for the lift and walk in with a yawn before disappearing from his view.

A soft sigh left your lips as you found yourself up on the roof, burying your hands into the fluffy dressing gown as you curl up, looking out at the city.

Closing your eyes, you wish you could simply fall asleep right here, at this very moment. “Five minutes, please.” You mutter to yourself, wondering if you could possibly trick yourself into the matter.

Five minutes pass by, then ten and soon you glance at your phone to see it’s nearly 4 in the morning.

“Worth a try.” You rise to your feet with a heavy heart and eyes before turning around and jumping. “What the fuck, Bucky!” You blurt out, resting your hand over your heart as it beats sporadically.

Bucky remains still, a smile ghosting his lips as he focuses on you. “Sorry if I scared you, doll.” He comments, humour lacing his tone as you give him that deadly stare you’re known for.

“What’re you doing up, Bucky?” You question, lowering your hand as your heartbeat returns to a steadier speed. “It’s nearly dawn.” You state, glancing over your shoulder as the darkness of the night is beginning to fade away.

“Could ask you the same.” He raises an eyebrow, watching as you shift your focus to the floor, suddenly feeling the cool breeze across your legs.

“Just felt like some air, couldn’t sleep.” You tell him, focusing on how his gaze hardens onto you as he takes a step forward, watching as you step backwards.

Bucky raises his hands up, “It’s okay.” He comments, seeing you bury your hands into your pockets. “I know you don’t sleep, doll.” He speaks up, and as you go to argue, he stops you before you have the chance. “We’re on the same floor, Y/n. You’re stealthy, but not that good.” A chuckle escapes his lips, catching you off guard.

“So you’ve known about this, and not told anyone?” The question leaves your lips as you remain confused. “Why wouldn’t you tell them?”

In response, Bucky shrugs his shoulders. “For the same reason, you don’t want to tell them.” He admits. “You don’t want them to treat you differently, be fragile.”

“If they knew, they’d be worried about me on missions.” You sigh, turning away and focusing on the soft glow of the morning beginning over the trees, hearing birds whistling to one another in preparation for a new day.

“But you’ve been fine on them, hell, Steve’s been slacking out of anyone.” Bucky tells you, smiling to himself as he moves closer toward you, following your line of focus. “You shouldn’t be worried about those things, what if you just crash out at some point?”

Looking up at him, you can see he’s genuinely concerned about you, something you never anticipated. Sure, Bucky has been warm to you which was unexpected considering his cold demeanour, but you weren’t the sharing type.

“Why’re you up here, Bucky?” You turn to face him, catching him off guard as his lips part, but words refuse to follow.

“You look like you needed a friend.” He eventually answers. “If I’m wrong, I’ll be on my way doll.” He holds his hands up as he turns on his heels, heading toward the door. “But if I’m right, all you gotta do is say so.” He sings, knowing you’d roll your eyes as he waits to hear your answer.

Yet, as Bucky reaches the door and opens it, you haven’t responded.

“Y/n?” Turning back around, Bucky’s eyes widen as you stand on the edge of the building, your arms out wide. “Y/n, please, step off the ledge, just take a step back alright.” His voice remains calm despite the rising fear inside of his mind.

“I’m not going to jump, you dummy.” You laugh lightly, lowering your arms to your sides, stepping back onto the roof. Behind you, there’s a long sigh of relief. “I just forget what it feels like sometimes, to be on the edge.”

Stepping forward, Bucky looks over the edge of the building and at the sheer drop. “I think I prefer it away from the ledge.” He counters, seeing you smile up at him playfully causing his heart to flutter ever so slightly.

“You know what I mean, metaphorically speaking.” You state. “Everything feels dull, I’m just going through each day, waiting to enjoy a rest but it doesn’t happen. I can’t shut myself down, no matter how hard I try.” Your voice softens, and Bucky swears there’s an audible crack in your tone. “I just want to sleep, so badly.”

Everything in you breaks down as a few tears spill from your eyes and you naturally move away from Bucky. “Hey, doll,” Bucky coos, following after you. “It’s okay. It’s only me.” He tries to comfort you as he wraps his arms around you, holding you close as you cry into his chest.

It felt oddly familiar, being in his arms and not wanting to let go. It reminded you of Christmas Eve, sitting by the warm fire with a blanket around you. He was comforting, he felt safe.

“I just wanna shut down for a while.” You manage to admit as Bucky shushes you, running his fingers through your hair as you smile sleepily, melting into his embrace.

“Just close your eyes, Y/n.” Bucky whispers as he helps you sit down with him, you resting in his lap as the warmth of the sun rising hits your back.

If you had to describe it, you could say it felt like an old friend coming home. You missed it, you waited for it to come back and at last, it is.

“Thank you, Bucky.” You whisper as your body begins to feel heavy in his arms, your hands sliding down as gentle snores leave your lips until you’re out.

Bucky smiles at you, helping you lie down on him as he continues to brush through your hair, making sure it remains out of your face. “Anytime, doll.” He mumbles, leaning down gently and kisses your forehead. As he looks down, he swears he can see a smile crossing your lips as the sun casts over your face, illuminating the beauty Bucky loved.

*

Walking through the compound, Steve huffed. “Anyone seen Buck?” He asks around, only to receive a series of shrugs or no’s in response.

“You tried the roof?” Sam speaks up from the kitchen and listens to the sound of Steve’s footsteps nearing the stairs. “Man can’t ever take the damn elevator.” He mutters to himself, shaking his head before returning his attention back to breakfast.

As Steve reaches the door toward the roof, he quietly opens it and swallows the pant in his throat. “Buck?” Steve calls out, stepping away from the door to look around.

Yet, when Steve finds his best friend he can’t help but be intrigued. There you are, fast asleep in Bucky’s arms as Bucky watches the morning play out in the wilderness, seeing the birds in the trees peacefully.

Bucky turns his head, gently lifting one arm up and presses a finger against his lips. “I’ll explain later.” He mouths to Steve, looking back down at you as you shuffle in his arms, hiding your face in his chest once more.

Shocked, Steve simply nods before retreating to the stairs, unable to wipe the smile from his lips at his best friend making a move on the girl he can’t stop smiling about.

t a g l i s t (thank you for the support!) link in my bio and at the top of this piece to add yourself☺️

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[chittsu]

haechan as your wedding date

because of my personal struggles with finding a boy naive enough to go to my sister's wedding with me, I came to the conclusion that Hyuck would be an amazing partner for that (not that he's naive) and I'm gonna prove my point below while adding a cute plot to it because I can

haechan x reader; fluff? FLUFF; comedy?? top-level trust me; CHEESY; 4.2 k??????? I don’t know how it happened

enjoy! :)

he's been your friend for years now, even though both of you are pretty sassy and can't go an hour without fighting at least once

but that's also what makes you two such a good duo - your friendship is based on jokes, pranks and overall positive and fun vibes and it's entertaining for everyone around

when you find yourself in a position of not having anyone to go with you to a wedding (and your family basically begs you to finally show aunt Matilda that you are dateable), you offer him this amazing position of your date

he accepts, of course, by saying that it's because of free food but in reality, he just likes spending time with you in any way

so the day comes and SURPRISE you're late with everything

you have makeup to finish and your bag to pack when you hear someone knocking on the door, followed by mocking 'your date arrived!!!'

you yell at him to come in because when you're in a hurry -you're not happy and it shows

you hear him saying something about how you should be nicer to a guy who saves you from disappointing your whole family and if you weren't applying your lipstick, you would probably attack him by now

haechan feels at home in your apartment so he's casually rummaging through your stuff in the bedroom while you're finishing your look

you get to see his silhouette through the crack in your door

he's showing his side profile to you while one of his knees is resting on your bed and he's holding the family photo you keep on your nightstand, probably studying faces of the people he's about to meet

and let me tell you, he looks GOOD

it wasn't surprising or new that you found Hyuck attractive because even you can't lie to yourself that much

but in this grey checked suit paired with a white shirt (he even unbuttoned a few buttons at the top) complimented by his tanned skin and his light hair parted in the middle..................

you were thankful you peeked through that crack so you had some more time to prepare yourself to look him in the face

and you were just so proud of your decision to ask him out because aunt Matilda is going to take back everything she said and BEG for forgiveness as soon as she sees him

ANYWAYS

you finally leave the bathroom while Hyuck is commenting on the photo chuckling 'I don't know who this man is but you definitely got your calves from him'

'that's our neighbour and now I'm concerned'

he looks at you, finally noticing you're out of the bathroom and he stops functioning for a moment

or two moments, while he scans the way you look

you kinda expect him to compliment you because that pink gown was expensive so it would be nice to hear something good from him

but it's haechan so what he says is

'luckily no one can see your calves in this dress'

:)

'that's exactly why I bought it' you say through gritted teeth

but when you look at him again, he has this grin on his face that he's trying to fight back and suddenly he looks at the ground and turns around to put the photo back while clearing his throat a little too loudly

FINALLY you decided to get going because - reminder - you're very late and your mom won't be content about this

driving was full of you telling embarrassing stories about your family members so that Hyuck feels more relaxed and to provide him with some tea

so fast forward to the wedding

you two managed to get to the church, find a place to sit in the back and laugh at the bride who started crying while saying the vows

after the ceremony, everyone started gathering in front of the church and that was the most stressful moment - your parents approaching

but after a few seconds you laugh at your own self for being stressed about Hyuck meeting your parents - he's such a charming person that knows exactly what to say to win hearts of others and it never fails - even with your parents

you're pretty sure your mom fell in love with him as soon as he smiled at her

so after a short conversation and a few jokes here and there, your parents leave the two of you with your dad patting Hyuck's arm and your mom looking absolutely delighted

'now it's time for you to praise my wooing skills' he says confidently with his eyebrow raised

'they would love anyone naive enough to come here with me but yeah good work'

Hyuck doesn't find it as funny as you think; every joke you make about being unloveable just stirs something inside of him

but before he has the time to react, you know who shows up

you know it

say it with me

AUNT MATILDA :))))))))

you don't have the time to warn Hyuck so you just grab his hand instinctively and give it a squeeze

you don't know that you just made his brain malfunction for the second time today

then..... aunt Matilda activates

'oh sweetie, after so many years i finally see a boy next to you, such a strange view, you always said you didn't need anyone and now??? aren't you working all the time? i thought you never leave the house....'''

you told Hyuck not to talk to her too much, that it's enough if he just shows up but how could he stand still in this situation

so he brings your hand to his lips and kisses it softly which surprisingly makes your aunt shut up and your heart speed up

'miss, thanks for your concern. y/n is doing great at her job and university, she works very hard, is beautiful and independent WHILE still managing to have lots of friends and a boyfriend, right cupcake?' and he looks at you sweetly

and you're already smiling at him because it's just so entertaining

'couldn't agree more baby boo'

so aunt Matilda is taken aback but she manages to force a smile before running away like the coward she is

and as you watch her leave, you say to Hyuck whose hand is still intertwined with yours 'I guess your job is done here'

and he says 'great because there's this comedy on TV i really wanted to watch today'

'but you wouldn't leave your cupcake alone, right?'

you smirk at him while taking your hand away from him and he can only cringe at those words

PARTY TIME

first of all, you both had to eat a lot so for the first hour you just kept on eating and the only conversation you have is 'have you tried this?' or 'you have to taste it' (in Ten's voice)

you introduced Hyuck to all of the cooler cousins you had

not like you really wanted to - they shouldn't get too used to him after all - but Matilda spread her word and now people just wanted to meet your boyfriend

thankfully, everyone hated Matilda so you could tell them you're not really together without being afraid of getting caught

every time someone asks if you're together you tell them 'um I don't need that kind of stress in my life'

they still don’t believe you OR they tell you that you may not be a couple yet but you definitely will

and then a bunch of your family members basically drags you two to dance with them in a circle

and the alcohol you drank makes you more adventurous than usually + the fact that all of your childhood friends are here with you has you dancing your heart out

and Hyuck is hyping you up on the side and he's watching you and laughing at you

but his laugh fades when a random guy asks you to dance with him

so he gives him like 10 solid seconds of holding you in his arms before he snatches you away

Haechan is a great dancer

he's so light with his moves and he can control every move perfectly, as well as yours

so even if you can't dance, with him dancing is fun and it works and it looks like you took dancing classes for the past 2 years

he would definitely be the type to sing along while dancing so just imagine his singing voice right next to your ear while you're dancing to a slower song

and then with more upbeat songs you two would have some kind of a lipsyncing battle and would just go crazy with facial expressions and air guitars

he would try new moves all the time and most of them would fail terribly at first but as long as you don't break your arms and you laugh it's completely fine

he would soon be stolen from you by every confident female guest who spent their time watching you two with envy

and you wait for him at your table, smiling like an idiot while watching him dance or in the arms of one of your cousins on the dance floor

and he looks at you every 5 seconds and smiles or sings or shouts something like he can't go on a moment without you

and your dancing partners are just like 'alright alright, go to him/her if you want to so much'

and you're like 'what we're just friends'

and they laugh in your faces

understandable because the chemistry you have?? when the two of you talk together, it's like nothing else matters

whenever Hyuck says something to you he has this grin on his face that he can't wipe off and he's embarrassed by it but he accepts it because he knows you have to try hard not to smile as well

he's either hyping up everything you say or make fun of you, there's no in-between

and every guest that met him says that they can instantly see why you chose him because you're just so perfect together

and they remember your past partners and everyone says that with Hyuck you can finally be truly yourself

everyone loves his jokes and remarks and he became so popular among your family members that you're starting to get scared about all this

they just love him

you joke you're almost jealous of all the attention but you're not surprised at all

like, he's the type to ask your mom to dance with him and he immediately became friends with your dad while talking about your embarrassing childhood stories and talk with your cousin about martial arts in the next second and he suddenly has nicknames for your siblings and they all call him Donghyuckie??

it's all a little crazy and as much as you love it, you start getting a little uncomfortable because - he's not your boyfriend and everyone's getting so used to him that it will be hard to explain to them why you're not together

hell, just imagine all those questions at every family meeting

and you can't really think right now with all that music and multiple conversations happening around you

so you decide to take advantage of Hyuck currently talking with your uncle and you go outside to get some fresh air

you find a perfect spot that surprisingly is empty, so you sit on a bench and enjoy the chilly breeze

you look up to the moon and wonder what's Taeil doing

and you look down on your hand that still remembers the touch of Hyuck's lips

you frown a little, knowing that it's too dangerous to think about this day as if something has changed between the both of you; he is just helping you today as a friend

but part of you knows that when you asked him to come here with you, you were hoping for something to change

you were single for a long time and you claimed that it made you happy

but it was bearable only because of Hyuck and the fact that he was always beside you

and when Taeyong once asked you who is your ideal type, you had to think hard about it because you didn't like the first answer that came to your mind

Donghyuck

you didn't want it to seem like your friendship isn't genuine just because you're developing feelings and you're hoping for something to happen between the both of you so you never said anything to anyone

you laughed suddenly

this alcohol you drank really messed you up just now wow

you were just thinking about what Taeil is doing, how did you end up here

you felt something on your shoulders and you recognized it was Hyuck's blazer

'how could you leave me in the same room as aunt Matilda ALONE'

you turn around to see Hyuck looking down at you with his arms crossed

'she's already scared of you so don't worry, you're safe'

'she sure wasn't scared when she asked me to dance with her 4 minutes ago'

that made you burst out laughing and you regretted not seeing that so so so much

Hyuck sat down next to you and tried to be serious to convince you that it wasn't funny at all but he had to laugh when you laughed

he stopped laughing a second before you so when you finally opened your eyes, you were taken aback seeing how serious he was suddenly

'what'

'I just feel sorry for you. every guy you bring home from now on will be compared to me and, spoiler alert, none of them will win that battle'

'johnny'

'good point but still you shouldn't hurt my feelings like that, I'm a sensitive guy underneath that very cool and attractive attitude'

'I love you and all but Johnny's tall and handsome, and well mannered and his smile is just..'

'OKAY OKAY Johnny is a God but I'm the one here with you right now, not him and that proves something so stop talking now'

'make me'

and you regret saying that immediately because it sounded way too flirty and provocative

and Hyuck just looks at you and you want him to laugh it off but his face is getting closer to yours suddenly

'as you wish'

and you can't believe that he is even more beautiful up close

you take a quick look at his slightly parted lips before gaining composure again

but nothing happens, he stops and smirks proudly

'my beauty makes you speechless and you want to convince me you would rather be here with Johnny?'

you can't find a good response to that so you just let your lips form a smile of acknowledgement

'also you were totally waiting for me to kiss you just now'

that catches you off the guard and when you see how proud he is with himself, you just can't let him triumph

'you know what, actually every boy will win with you in comparison as long as he's my real boyfriend'

'that's a weak argument, I could easily be your boyfriend if I haven't failed to ask you out so many times'

.........

you just look at each other with serious, almost shocked expressions

he's panicking inside because that was not meant to be said oh no

the awkwardness is real

and he's the one to speak before you can ask any questions

'okaaaaaaaaay actually I came here to tell you that the cake is going to be served so let's get going'

and he basically runs away

and you go after him, even though you're very confused right now

but the cake is tasty

the problem is, suddenly Hyuck is very awkward around you and when you look at him, he turns his head the other way or starts talking to someone else

and your mom immediately asks you 'what have you done'

and you even lose him for like, 30 minutes

but eventually, he finds you next to the bar because where else would you be

he puts his hand on your waist

he probably doesn't notice that but you sure do

'I thought you left with that dancing king from before'

and you turn to look at him and your faces are really close right now, your noses could brush against each other any second now

and his mind malfunctions for the 753rd time today

and you smirk

'oh, did my beauty just make you speechless?'

and he turns away from you, hiding his smile with his fist acknowledging this joke

but again, he can't let you have it

so he looks at you, his eyes squinting

'do you know why I haven't been drinking today? because I'm already drunk on the way you look tonight WOOOO'

'wow is there a paper bag somewhere near here?' you say pretending to be strongly disgusted as Renjun taught you

and you just roll your eyes while he's so proud with himself that he puts his hands on his hips and starts pacing to get over that line with this STUPID smile on his face

and you feel like you're both 8 years old

and you're glad that he's back to his usual self even though there's this slight disappointment? jokes like that are completely normal between you two but what he said in the garden seemed too genuine to just dismiss like that

'want a drink? I'll pay'

'everything's free here Hyuck'

'EXACTLY'

'you're way too nice to me today, I'm gonna be so disappointed when it all ends tomorrow'

'what do you mean, I'm ALWAYS nice to you'

'especially when you laugh at my calves when there's nothing even wrong with them, have you seen Doyoung's???'

and with that everything is how it used to be and you spend the rest of the night dancing, eating and laughing

but when you both realize you're extremely tired, it's time to say your last goodbyes to everyone and yes, it's awkward as hell because suddenly every member of your family is inviting Hyuck for dinner

and the worst thing is that they don't even care if you come with him??

so when you're finally next to his car you have to complain

'you stole my family, this friendship is cancelled'

'finally!!!!'

you gasp dramatically and you're expecting him to laugh at you or play along but hmmmmmm

he's kinda serious, there's just this little smile playing on his lips and he takes a step forward

and he reaches out for your hand

and just stares at your hands intertwined together as if they were made for each other

you stop breathing for a moment and your heart wants to jump out of your chest; this situation confuses you but you're trying to stay calm

and then he says

'since I already kinda exposed myself earlier... and you're a little drunk... this seems like the perfect occasion to tell you the truth'

'first of all I'm not drunk but even if I was, are you hoping that I forget about it tomorrow because-"

he looks straight into your eyes with an annoyed expression before pressing his lips on yours

have you ever seen fireworks? because they exploded everywhere at that moment

and your chest feels so heavy with this new feeling you can’t explain but you let your body relax and get used to it

Hyuck's hand finds its way to your neck and he takes a step forward to be closer before pulling away from you a few moments later

and for a second no one says anything

he rests his forehead on yours, his hand is still on your neck

this moment feels so good that none of you wants to ruin it by saying anything or moving

but eventually, it has to end

Hyuck looks at you and you can't even imagine everything that's going through his mind right now; he's scared that he made the biggest mistake of his life right now but why does it feel like it was also his best decision?

he's so unsure of what to say or do now, his spontaneity suddenly left him

'you could have just told me to shut up' you say with a smile playing on your lips

he just lets out a laugh and all of his worries disappear; his smiling from ear to ear and for a moment, he's looking everywhere but on you while shaking his head

'hey, focus, you were supposed to tell me the truth, i have no idea what that could be about' you continue teasing him but you have the same stupid smile as him on your face

he lets out a heavy sigh and finally looks at you while cupping your face in his hands

'the truth is I know that you're totally whipped for me so I just made your confession easier for you, you can start now'

'wow that took an unexpected turn'

'you didn't expect me to say a monologue about how wonderful you are, right?'

'I know I won't hear it from you unless aunt Matilda stands in front of us but a girl can dream, right?'

'I thought that the way I look at you would be enough for you to know how I feel'

'it wasn't so explain now'

'you just love making me suffer huh'

so yeah, if you expected a proper confession from Haechan then I'm really sorry but it's not happening

speaking about his feelings isn't easy for him unless he turns it into jokes

but it's not disappointing, it just so 'you'

'wait but does it all mean that if I annoyed you yesterday and you kissed me to shut me up... i wouldn't have to lie to aunt Matilda today?'

'see? it's all your fault, you turned yourself into a liar just because you were a coward before'

'me??? a coward?? I think I heard you saying you failed to ask me out many times before'

'it's the 21st century, you can't wait for men to do everything for you, you could have asked first'

'OKAY okay I'll be your girlfriend if you're insisting so much'

he bursts out laughing and you do too and then he pretends to call his mom to brag that he FINALLY got himself a girlfriend

and you kiss him again and again and again and he smiles in between kisses and then you both start giggling and it's all just so amazing and fresh

then he hugs you tight and he rests his chin on the top of your head and it's just a truly happy moment for you two

and when you finally drive back to your apartment, Hyuck takes you hand in his and is basically a giggly mess the whole time

he occasionally kisses your hand just as he did before and you can already tell that will be the death of you but that's your favourite thing now

and you start asking each other embarrassing questions like what did you like about each other first or when did you start having a crush on me but you quickly stop because you realize how stupid you were all this time

and just like that, aunt Matilda created this power couple

and your friends aren't even surprised

only Ten doesn't like that idea because, let me quote: 'oh no I lost a bet, I said that you wouldn't get together till you're both thirty'

and you say 'by thirty we will already be divorced'

and Hyuck gets so offended by this, he goes to Taeil and lets out those fake sobs saying that he should have just stayed single forever like his big hyung

and Taeil doesn't find it funny

but basically, nothing changes between you two and you love it; well, nothing except now you kiss and hug and hold hands 

and you still look at each other with the same spark in your eyes and you still have the same stupid grins on your faces when you're talking together

and you still fight a lot but that's a tradition okay, that’s what makes you you

so yeah, Haechan is the perfect wedding date, I think that proved my point

just a disclaimer: I'm sorry to all Matildas :< disclaimer 2: if you liked it and you want more, you can read this tinder au with Doyoung or Lucas or this college!au with Taeil :) disclaimer 3: pls leave a like or reblog if you managed to read this whole thing to make me smile 

#nct #nct 127 #nct dream #donghyuck #haechan #lee haechan #lee donghyuck #fanfic #nct au #nct fanfic #nct fanfiction #nct scenarios #nct fluff #nct imagines #nct hyuck #nct haechan #nct soft scenarios #fanfiction #nct writings #haechan fanfic #haechan au #haechan fluff #haechan imagines #haechan scenarios #nct 127 fic #nct dream fic #nct 127 scenarios #nct dream scenarios #nct 127 imagines

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Not What It’s Cracked Up To Be ch.2 (baon)

Summary: Edge and Stretch are finally getting back on an even keel. Edge’s broken leg is healing well, Spring is finally here and the flowers are close to blooming.

Be a shame if anything disturbed their domestic bliss.

Tags:  Spicyhoney, Kustard, Established Relationships, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Fluff, Chickens

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

Chapter 1  

~~*~~

Read it on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

If Stretch had to make a top ten list of people that he expected to find at his front door on any given day, Papyrus would be on it, but Stretch had to guiltily admit, he would have been close to the bottom of the list, just below the mailperson.

It wasn't that Stretch didn't like Papyrus, he really did, but somehow, their paths didn't cross that often. Papyrus did a lot of work up at the Embassy and spent time training with Undyne and the rest of the security team. He had his own group down at the Y like Edge did of younger kids and every year they did a nature hike out in the wilds of Ebott, down the walking path that ran behind the shopping center.

Papyrus had his own gig going on and that was fine, but it did mean they mostly saw each other on movie nights and holidays. Kinda like cousins, maybe, not that Stretch ever had any. Not exactly close family, but family, nonetheless.

Now, finding Papyrus AND Jeff on his porch? Both of them with their arms loaded with plastic food containers and cups from the Beanery that looked to be filled with gloriously caffeinated concoctions? That wasn’t anywhere on Stretch’s top ten list or even in the top fifty. That was one that might’ve wandered onto an alternate list in the AM hours when Stretch couldn’t sleep, but even then, the odds weren’t good.

Papyrus’s grin of maniacal cheer, though, that was to be expected. It was the same one Blue got going when he had a scheme up his pant leg and that made warnings prickles stand up and do the cha-cha-cha on Stretch’s spine.

“hey, guys,” Stretch said slowly, “what’s going on?”

“What is going on is we are here to see you!” Papyrus said cheerily. He shifted the boxes in his arms. “We can continue going by you letting us inside!”

“I mean, you can leave us on the porch if you want,” Jeff’s grin was less maniacal, at least. Honestly, he looked tired and also like he wasn’t about to let that slow him down. “We’ll just stand here, alone, sad and pining for the fjords, wasting away—”

“yeah, yeah, i get it,” Stretch grinned and held open the door. “come in before the neighbors get interested. they already think we’re better than netflix.”

Papyrus and Jeff trooped inside, and Stretch took a second to peek out the front door. Edge was still working diligently on his flowerbeds, so that was fine. He saw Stretch looking and blew him a kiss and maybe catching it was pretend, but the warmth in his soul from it was plenty real.

Didn’t mean Stretch missed that his loving traitor didn’t come inside, though.

By the time he closed the front door, Jeff and Papyrus had taken over the coffee table. There were several plastic containers alongside the drink cups and okay, yeah, Stretch was curious to see what largess had been brought to them. Hopefully not too much, with his cast off and permission to stand, Edge was probably itching to get back into the kitchen. He’d graciously accept anything the guys brought over, probably, and then he’d be stuck between his urgent need to make food for everyone in sight and his need not to waste any morsel that came into the house. It was a bit of a balancing act and Edge was already wobbly on his feet.

Stretch wandered over to give one of the containers a poke. “i hadn't heard the hospital cut you loose yet, Paps.

“Just yesterday!” Papyrus beamed and now Stretch could see he had a cane of his own, exactly the same as Edge’s but he was currently using it more as punctuation than for support.

Released yesterday and Stretch hadn’t even known. He could have, should have. He’d just seen Sans a couple days go and he’d asked about Red, but not his brother who was still in the fucking hospital. And what, he could send tweets out to his fans but not a text to Papyrus to see how he was feeling? Stretch swallowed hard against the rising thickness in the back of his throat. “listen, i'm sorry i didn't get up to see you at the hospital much.”

Papyrus being Papyrus, only waved that off. “Not at all! Everyone is very busy right now.”

“Yeah,” Jeff put in and there was a wealth of meaning in that single word that probably synced up to the shadows under his eyes. “I barely got up there to see you and Edge, too.”

“Besides,” Papyrus went on, “You had your own patient to handle in what I am sure was an experience that left you stronger!”

“heh, that’s one way of putting it. how’s the noggin?” The bandages that were wrapped around Papyrus’s head in the hospital were gone and all the bruising faded. The dark line of a hairline crack was still running along his parietal bone. At this point it was probably here to stay, healing magic wasn’t much good on scars, otherwise Stretch would have gotten to work on Edge’s a long time ago.

Papyrus mimed rapping on his skull with his knuckles. “Better. I am still on sick leave even though I am injured, not sick. But I am not falling down as much now so they let me go home!”

The phrase falling down had implications that made Stretch shudder, even though he knew that wasn’t what Papyrus meant. Especially after today, seeing Edge’s healing leg, all his new scars, hairline fractures, all of them, but they were still there.

Okay, yeah, a subject change seemed to be a good idea.

Stretch picked up one of the containers and gave it a little shake. “so what brings you over to see me. not that i don’t want to see you guys, but…” He gestured at the rest of the containers. “i’m seeing a plan here.”

“Yes!” Papyrus said happily. “I brought something for your chickens!"

Huh. Today was definitely going off the charts, because that option wasn’t on any of Stretch’s top ten lists. “seriously?"

Papyrus obviously had his own standards when it came to lists, because he nodded as if it were obvious. “Yes! You see, usually when you are sick or injured in the hospital because of germs or stupidity—"

“hey!”

“--i have cared for your chickens for you! this time i was in the hospital and so i brought them spaghetti!”

Impeccable logic, really. Except for one small detail.

Paps was a much better cook these days but pasta still tended to elude him. Even the mention of spaghetti still gave Stretch shuddering flashbacks of those first few weeks when they came to this universe. It’d almost been enough for him to wish they were back in Underswap.

Almost.

All the other dishes Papyrus made were more than palatable, even delicious, except for when he dug out the noodles. Much as he didn’t want to hurt any feelings, neither did Stretch want to murder his chickens by poison pasta. “um that's really nice, but, uh.”

Whatever Papyrus thought he was going to say, if there were any hurt feelings about it, he shed it like water off a duck’s back, “Have no fear! It is vegetable spaghetti!"

“Spiral cut veggies, “Jeff put in. He pried off one of the lids and held it out, revealing bright orange and purple strands. His grin was a little wry; Jeff was another victim of Papyrus’s attempts at carbonara. “We made it fresh this morning.”

Oh. They’d made it, together. For the teeniest, tiniest moment there was a twinge of stupid jealousy, bitter sharp in his soul, because Jeff was supposed to be his best friend and here was Papyrus poaching on his territory when he already had lots of friends, in a couple different countries even, pen pals and people at the Embassy, why did he need one of Stretch’s?

Then he squashed that thought like the stink bug it was; there was plenty of Andy to go around and he wasn’t about to end his week by being a dick to his best friends over veggie noodles.

So hey, time to unwrap the enthusiasm and get this chicken party started. Stretch pasted his smile back on and said, “well hey, let’s go out back! i bet they’ll be scrambling for it.”

Papyrus didn’t even groan at the pun, though Jeff booed under his breath. His smile brought new meaning to the word beaming, it really did, bright as the sun. “Let me get some plates!”

He caned his way into the kitchen before Stretch could even offer to do it for him and yeah, there was one of the ways he and Edge were alike, stubborn little shits that they were.

Stretch shook his head and turned back to Jeff to ask, softly, “how is he doing, really?”

“He’s been fine today, but he should probably sit down for a while,” Jeff said in the same quiet tone. “I had him sitting at home when we were using the spiral slicer and he was pretty good about it. Don’t let him fool you, though, the doctors told him to take it easy—”

“—and he’s not really good at following their instructions,” Stretch finished with a sigh. “yeah, i’ve had some practice with that.”

“I’ll bet,” Jeff laughed just as Papyrus returned, plates in hand. Stretch kept back any comments about what Edge might have to say about them using his plates to feed chickens. Hey, they were family, they could use the good tableware.

“I’ll bet, too,” Papyrus said, “if you two are finished talking about me behind my back! Unless you want to do it in front of my face as well.”

Yeah, there were definitely times Stretch could tell Papyrus and Edge were cut from the same cloth. Although if he ever saw Edge smiling like Papyrus did, Stretch would be checking for any other signs of the apocalypse. “nah, i think we’re good. let’s head out.”

“Oh, and we brought you—” Jeff plucked one of the plastic cups from the table and held it out with a flourish. “triple venti, iced caramel macchiato with whip and an extra shot.”

Now that was a drink and Stretch took the cup, clutching it to his chest without even caring for the condensation dampening the front of his sweatshirt.

“you are the second-best person in the world,” Stretch told him sincerely, “if i wasn’t already married to the first best, i’d be polishing up my flirting skills for you.”

Jeff only rolled his eyes, “Yeah, okay, I’ll add you to my dance card, Mr. Darcy.”

“The dating manual has a chapter on polygamous relationships if you’d like to borrow it!” Papyrus said brightly.

Immediately, Jeff’s pale cheeks flamed a bright red and Stretch felt a blush of his own warm his face. Uh, yeah, no, his love for Andy stayed above the waist, thanks. Now he was glad Edge hadn’t come inside, he’d either be annoyed or silently laughing his ass off. Either way, Stretch could live without it.

He clapped a hand on Papyrus’s shoulder, “you know what, paps, i think we’re good, but i’ll keep it in mind. c’mon, it’s a nice day and the ladies await!”

“Of course!” Papyrus followed Stretch to the back door while Jeff gathered up the containers. “Did Edge redecorate the kitchen? I seem to recall a lot less red paint splattered on the walls and also a table the last time I was here…”

~~*~~

A few days ago, Stretch spent a couple hours cleaning off all the chairs on the patio from any winter gunk left on them. He’d done it for Edge so he could come outside while he was still off limits on any marathons, just a quick scrub down and some sunshine and they were good.

Now he wondered why he bothered because so far, every time anyone came out to the backyard, they ended up sitting on the damned ground. At least they grabbed the cushions off the chairs to keep the damp away. The chickens were gabbling eagerly from the moment the sliding glass door opened and the volume doubled when they realized it was more than the usual amount of suckers to demand scritches from.

Stretch let loose the chicks and Papyrus laid down the plates, already scolding, “Now hold on a moment, there’s more than one flavor! You’ll need a serving of each for the full decadent experience!”

Soon enough the grub was out and they were all sitting on their cushions, watching the chickens feast.

“gotta say, this was a pretty good idea,” Stretch admitted. Pretty good was understating it, the chickens loved the veggie spaghetti and they were gobbling it down, switching plates at will as they scarfed it as fast as they could. Noodle let out an indignant squawk when Nugget stole a tasty looking tidbit from under her beak and ended up on the other end of a strand with Dumpling in an impromptu Lady and the Tramp recreation that ended a lot less romantically when Nugget stole a bite right through the center.

“Of course it was!” Papyrus said loftily. Then he surprised Stretch by adding, “JeffAndy suggested it.”

Stretch raised a brow bone and Jeff shrugged, awkwardly, “Julia used to make veggie spaghetti all the time and Blue had a spiral cutter, so.”

“i haven’t seen blue for a few days.” Stretch fumbled into his hoodie pocket for his lighter, the metal smooth and cool under his fingertips. “how’s he doing?”

“Good. Busy, like all of us,” Jeff said. He took a drink from his cup and it left a slight whipped cream mustache on his upper lip that he licked away. “Think everyone will be glad when Edge is back full time.”

“yeah.” The lighter flicking through his fingers wasn’t enough suddenly and Stretch pulled out a pack of cigarettes to go with it at the same time he nudged Papyrus with an elbow. “and how’s your bro doing?”

“Very well!” Papyrus plucked up a far-flung piece of spaghetti and tossed it back towards the chickens. Dumpling all but snapped it out of the air. “He’s packing as we speak!”

“packing?” That was about the last thing Stretch expected to ever hear about Sans. He and Papyrus were the only brother pair still living together and Stretch would have put good odds on the that only changing if Papyrus moved out, and even then, Sans might try to crawl into one of the suitcases. Sans packing up was serious levels of gossip that he was missing out on.

Papyrus nodded. “Yes! Now that he and Red are betrothed, he is moving in! He didn’t want to leave at first, but I told him I would have someone stay with me until I am fully recovered!”

Betrothed was a weird way to describe that relationship and Sans actually moving in? Made Stretch wonder what’d happened that day when Sans carried Red out of the kitchen, not that he’d wanted to be a fly on the wall or anything. Maybe Red liked to play the spy guy, but Stretch had enough nightmares as it was. If he ever had to hear Red in throes of orgasm, he’d scrub the inside of his skull with a toilet brush.

“not undyne.” He couldn’t imagine her staying away from Alphys, especially not while she had a bun cooking in the oven.

“No, no, your brother!”

Stretch was in the middle of lighting his cigarette and sucked in too hard, coughing the smoke back out. His brother was staying with Papyrus? When did that happen? He was starting to feel more and more like Dorothy when she first stepped off the tornado.

“okay, hang on,” Stretch rubbed a knuckle between his sockets where an ache was starting to form. “can i get a timeline on this?”

“Of course!” Papyrus ticked off on his fingers. “First, Red gave Sans a betrothal collar.”

That choker he’d been wearing, with the heart-shaped buckle. Not at all the sort of thing he’d expected to be Sans’s taste, it’d been cute when Sans was more, ‘wear whatever fell on me today’. “is that what that was?”

“Oh, yes, Red told me that collars hold great significance in Underfell!”

“did he now?” Stretch said softly. Nope, that didn’t sting, not one little bit. His soul wasn’t at all lurching in his chest, rising up to settle painfully under his clavicles.

“Very much so! A betrothal collar is a promise and a warning.” Papyrus leaned in, his voice lowered conspiratorially to a level just below a shout. “More people probably need warnings about Sans.”

“you’re probably right.” Honestly, he should probably be wearing a sign.

“So he got his collar and told me. Then I told him he needed to move in with his fiancée and he said, ‘whoa, bro, don’t know about that you’re still pretty banged up and all.’”

Stretch couldn’t help grinning. He had to admit, that impression of Sans was pretty bang on.

“and I told him I would find someone else to stay with me and I asked your brother and he agreed!” Papyrus finished triumphantly.

He glanced at Jeff, who’d moved his cushion to be downwind of the cigarette smoke. “what about andy, thought you and blue were playing roommates.”

“I’m moving in with Antwan,” Jeff admitted shyly. He toyed with the laces on his shoes. “I mean, for now anyway.”

Normally, Stretch would have been squealing to hear that because hello, about fucking time. But from the sounds of it, if he wasn’t the last to know about all this, he was pretty damn close. “this all happened in the past couple days?”

Papyrus glanced at him. “If we are measuring by linear time, then yes.”

“always did prefer linear. helps to keep things straight. hey, congrats, andy,” Stretch said belatedly. Really belated, seemed like if this news was days old.

“Don’t congratulate me yet, Antwan hasn’t had to move my comic book collection,” Jeff laughed. But from his pink, pleased face he was pretty excited and why shouldn’t he be, he was moving in with his guy, Blue was moving in with Papyrus, Sans moving in with Red. All kinds of stuff going on that no one gave Stretch a call or text about it. Not that he blamed them, not really. He wasn’t being much of a good big brother lately or cousin or friend or whatever else the fuck he pretended he could do. Made him wonder how he was doing as a husband, since he was so shit at everything else.

The chickens were done mangling every speck of the spaghetti and Nugget wandered over to peck at the string on Stretch’s hoodie hopefully. It hadn’t turned into food for her the other hundred times she’d tried it, but that never stopped her before, especially since now it looked like her last treat. Stretch crushed out his cigarette and gave her a hopeful nudge, and she settled into his lap amicably, clucking happily as he smoothed a hand down her feathers.

Noodle was taking refuge in Papyrus’s lap, crooning for her own pets that Papyrus obediently provided. “Your chickens are very nice.”

“We’re lucky Edge isn’t here,” Jeff chuckled even as he coaxed Dumpling over for scritches of her own. “They think he’s the next coming of Chicken Jesus.”

Papyrus frowned. “I wouldn’t think that chickens followed Christian theology.”

It was always hard to tell when Papyrus was sincere or when he was fucking with you, and Stretch had a feeling he was being bent over today. “nah, these ladies are nondenominational.”

“If one must have a harem, one of chickens seems a good choice!” Papyrus said thoughtfully. “There are the eggs to consider.”

“a harem, why would---never mind.” Stretch decided he really didn’t want to know which way Papyrus’s brain was twisting today, he had enough of that with his own.

“By the way,” Jeff said as he struggled to keep Dumpling from attacking his shoelaces, “now that Edge is feeling better, I should probably tell you that your brother’s freezer is filled with bags of grapes.”

“grap..oh.” The grapes from Edge’s garden that he’d been picking when…well. When everything. He’d honestly forgotten all about them, that whole day was pretty much a suckhole of shit that he didn’t care to ever repeat. Even thinking that made Stretch feel a little queasy, knocking him even more off balance while he was trying to catch his equilibrium. Stretch let out a little laugh and if it sounded a little shrill, neither Jeff nor Papyrus noticed. “you froze them, really? when did you even have the time?”

Jeff shrugged, which meant it was probably after work, maybe even at the end of that long, horrible day, and he’d been exhausted and done it anyway. He really was a good friend, better than Stretch deserved.

“i’ll let him know.” Stretch rubbed Nugget gently under the chin and she cooed happily. “and hey, thanks for stopping by with the spaghetti for my girls and letting me knows what’s up with the nearby world.”

“Wish I could say it was my idea,” Jeff said. His smile was a little lopsided. “I’ve missed hanging out. With everything that’s going on, Papyrus thought maybe you were feeling a little out of the loop. He said not being at work makes him think it’s Sunday when it’s Wednesday.”

“yeah, he’s got a good point.”

“I usually do,” Papyrus said modestly.

The sliding glass door opened then, and Edge stepped out. Immediately the chickens abandoned all laps and ran to him, and usually Stretch thought that was cute as fuck, but today, it was an extra scoop of abandonment on top of his cone of salty guilt.

Edge crouched and gave each of them a quick pat, “Hello, everyone. I only wanted to check if you two are staying for dinner.”

“No,” Papyrus said, somehow managing to look sad and elated at the same time. “Blue is planning a welcome to my home dinner for me tonight!”

“I can’t either, Antwan and I haven’t done anything but sleep in the same bed for the past week. We’re planning take out and time together.” Jeff scrambled to his feet with a groan, stretching, “We need to get going, anyway.”

Edge nodded, like none of this was news to him. Maybe it wasn’t, Stretch really was the last to know everything. Even about betrothal collars and Stretch twisted the ring on his finger, feeling the delicate swirls etched into it with the tips of his fingers. The metal wasn’t cool like his lighter, warmed by his own bones.

It only took a couple of minutes for Jeff and Papyrus to gather up the empty containers, and Stretch got the plates, setting them next to him on the ground.

“see you guys later!” Stretch called as they went through the gate. He got waves in return and then they were gone.

Edge sat down on the cushion next to him, stretching out his leg brace in front of him as he nudged it closer than Papyrus had. Close enough for him to settle his own hand over Stretch’s and he couldn’t help wondering if that was to keep him from reaching for his cigarettes again. He was supposed to be quitting and that’d fallen to the wayside at some point, supposed to be seeing Alphys about his HP, when was the last time he’d done that? So many fucking questions today and Stretch wasn’t sure about some of the answers.

“Just you and me tonight then, love,” Edge said. His thumb grazed lightly across Stretch’s knuckles and he noted absently that he’d changed his gloves. These ones were worn soft, comfort gloves, like some of Stretch’s sweatshirts, and he didn’t know why Edge needed comforting.

“yeah, just you and me,” Stretch agreed softly, and when had that become less of a delight.

He really was losing his touch because Edge gave him a narrow look almost immediately. “What’s wrong?”

“nothing,” Stretch said, and he forced lightness into the word, “think i’m just a little tired, we had a lot going on today.”

Edge hummed softly in agreement, “Why don’t you take a nap?”

“take one with me?” Stretch offered and he knew from the split-second of hesitation on Edge’s face that he wanted to say no. Which, of course he fucking did, he just got his cast off, he was probably wanting a shower or maybe even a bath, give those newly scarred bones a good scrub before he went to do all the other shit he couldn’t do last week. “you know what, never mind.”

“Are you sure?” Edge asked, because of course he did. He always put Stretch’s happiness first. Like it was something Stretch actually deserved and that was a shitty thing to think and Stretch knew it, so he was stopping that right now.

“yep,” Stretch forced a yawn. “if it’s just me i can sprawl out.”

“Me being in the bed has never stopped you before,” Edge said dryly. But he lifted Stretch’s hand and kissed his knuckles, right over his wedding ring, the one Edge gave him when he promised to love and cherish him, and Stretch was gonna knock it the fuck off thinking about anything with collars or Underfell. Edge loved him and he knew it, he didn’t need anything else.

Not a damn thing.

~~*~~

Read Chapter Three

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #by any other name

[incorrectdeceptionquotes]

A Bundle of Secrets (Rewritten)

Chapter 1

The sound of feet against pavement echoed through the dark as a young woman rushed into an abandoned building, carrying a bundle of blankets in her arms.  

She forced open a secret panel in one of the walls, carefully tucking the bundle inside with a teary smile and a kiss before closing the wall back up, leaving the slightest crack open. She hurried back to the entrance, looking frantically at her surroundings as she unlocked her phone. 

“Hello, 911, what’s your emergency?”

“Please, you have to send help!”         

“Ma’am, what’s wrong, is everything okay?”

She could barely breathe as she heard the faint click of polished shoes getting closer and closer.

“I can't, just--when you get here, make sure you search this place top to bottom.” 

The operator grew concerned at this. “Where are you right now?” 

“It’s not safe here, get her somewhere safe!" There wasn't any time to explain, they would find her any second now. "Please. It’s too late for me.”

“What’s too late? Ma’am?”

A shot rang out and all that was heard was a choked whisper. “Please take care of her...”

“Take care of whom? Who’s there? Ma’am, I need you to tell me--” 

There was another sudden shot, but this time the bullet went through the young woman’s forehead. She crumpled onto the floor, dark curly hair feathering out around her. 

“Ma’am, are you still there? Ma’am-”

An expensive-looking shoe kicked the phone out of the dead woman’s hands, cutting off the call for good and then nothing. Only a shadow hovering over the body and a blank stare in the woman's lifeless blue eyes.

(~**~)              (~**~)              (~**~)              (~**~)

“And that is how you pull it off.” Cameron waved his hands with a flourish as he and Kay pulled up to the crime scene. “Honestly, it’s a piece of cake once you get over a fear of fire.”

Kay stifled a smile as she rolled his eyes at his childishness. “You know Cam, sometimes I think you value pulling off a stunt more than you do about your own safety.” 

It wasn't bad though. He wasn't quite back to his usual carefree self, but he looked lighter, his smiles quick to come and more genuine than before.

“Well, it’s worth it if it works, right? Though Johnny always thought that one was stupid.” 

Kay was quick to notice how his eyes clouded over, his smile slowly fading as he mentioned his brother. 

“How’s he doing?" She was hesitant to broach the topic. "I mean have you… have you heard from him at all?”

“No,” Cameron sighed heavily, “And quite frankly, I don’t want to even wanna think about him right now. He’s clearly not.”

Kay put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I get that you’re upset with him and you have every right to be. But he’s still your brother.”

His hand covered hers as he gave a weary smile. “I know, I know, it's just--I’m just not ready to see him and... I’m tired of looking for him. Thankfully he doesn’t need something from me. Not yet, at least.”

“Well, whatever you might need, I’m here for you.”

“Thanks Kay.” 

The abandoned warehouse was already filled with police officers when they entered. 

“So this is where the 911 call came from huh?” Cameron only saw bleak stone and crumbling concrete no matter where he looked. “There’s probably all sorts of hidden secrets about this place. Being an abandoned building and all.”

“It actually used to be an old group home for foster kids, but it closed down a few years ago for safety issues and the group was relocated elsewhere," Kay elaborated as they headed towards Mike, who was standing over the victim. "The operator said she has no idea who our victim is; all she could tell us was that she sounded like a young woman who was desperate for help.” 

“Hey Mike, so who’s our victim?”

“Unfortunately, we don’t have an ID yet and it seems she came running here with not much on her,” Mike replied. “But she was clearly running from something.”

“Whatever she was trying to escape from obviously found her,” Kay added as she looked at the woman’s wide unblinking eyes. Poor girl, she thought, feeling that something seemed oddly familiar about those eyes. 

“Judging from her clothes, it doesn’t seem like she was planning on running,” Cameron observed, noting the cool autumn breeze and the fact that the victim was wearing a thin sweater with a light summery skirt, “Maybe she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time? Got mistaken for someone else...” 

Cameron trailed off. It was faint, but he thought he heard something. Something a little farther into the building. He couldn't tell what it was just yet… 

“Maybe. Mike, was there any other information that the operator gave about our victim?” Kay asked as Cameron wandered off.

“Oh yeah. They mentioned how our vic went on about making sure that whoever was chasing her did not get to her.” Mike explained.

“Who's her?” Kay frowned in confusion. “If we can figure that out, maybe we can find out who our victim is.”

Meanwhile, Cameron was searching the building, he was sure the sound was coming from this direction. He happened upon the wall and noticed a tiny crack where it should be. What he saw when he pushed it open shocked him. 

“Uh, guys?” Cameron yelled from where he was.

“What is it, Cam?” Kay called back.

“Look, I know I’m not supposed to touch anything before you guys have finished a complete search of the premises...” He said in a rush as he hurried back to them, carrying that same bundle of blankets that the woman had held just a few short hours ago. “But I don’t think this can wait.”

“Cam, what on earth could you have possibly--” 

Kay met him halfway, wondering what was going on when she went speechless at the sight. Peeking out from the bundle in Cameron’s arms, wide awake was a bright eyed, curious baby. The little girl was probably only a year old at most with very pale skin, big brown eyes that seemed to smile at everyone, and the same dark curls as their victim. 

Cameron grinned, oddly cheeky and sheepish at the same time. “I think you can understand why I thought it couldn’t wait.”

(~**~)              (~**~)              (~**~)              (~**~)

“So you found the baby in the same building as our victim?” Deakins was as stern and sharp as ever as Kay and Mike watched Cameron entertain the little girl, making silly faces as he bounced her on his knees.

“Yes, due to the timing and that she bears some resemblance to our victim, we think it’s reasonable to believe that she might be related to our Jane Doe,” Kay explained.

“Any idea on who our Jane Doe is?”

“We’re still working on it," Mike replied, "We should be finding out soon.”

“Alright, keep me posted.” Deakins walked away, her face softening with a quick flick of a smile as she took one last look at Cameron and the baby.

“I’ll go see if we have an ID yet,” Mike said to Kay as he motioned his head towards Cameron, amused at the sight.

Kay rolled her eyes before sitting next to Cameron and the baby. “You two seem to be getting along.”

“Babies are so fun to entertain, everything you do is like a magic trick to them, watch this!” 

Cameron covered his face before then quickly pulling his hand down and went, “Peek-a-boo!” 

The little girl burst out laughing. It was so infectious that Kay and Cameron couldn't help but join her. 

Kay's smile only grew. “I see what you mean.”

All of a sudden, the baby pointed at Kay, gurgling and smiling as she reached out her arms to the agent. 

“I think the little lady wants you to hold her, Kay.”

“Oh…" An unsure expression spread over her face, "I don’t know, I’m not really--”

Cameron held up the baby in front of his face and spoke in a high-pitched voice, “Please Kay, I want a hug and Mr Cameron is starting to run out of ideas to entertain me!” 

Kay snorted, rolling her eyes for what seemed like the umpteenth time that day and gently took the little girl from Cameron. The baby just cooed and stared up at her with bright, innocent eyes. There was something about her that just seemed so familiar, yet she couldn’t put her finger on it. 

“She likes you.” Cameron's voice broke through Kay’s thoughts.

“What?”

“I tried giving her to Mike earlier and she almost burst into tears,” he chuckled.

“Really?” 

Kay laughed as she settled the baby in her lap, a hand supporting the little girl’s back. That had to have been a blow to Mike's ego, seeing how he often bragged about how good he was with children. She looked up just in time to see Cameron smiling at her. 

He was always smiling, but this one was slow and subtle, harder for her to read.

“What?”

“Nothing, just never really pictured you with a baby.” 

Kay raised an eyebrow at that. 

“N-not that I picture you in any way, shape, or form," He backtracked with a flustered look on his face, "Not that I mean anything by that, what I meant was--” 

He abruptly leaned down to face the baby. “Can you help me out here, kid?” The baby just grabbed his nose and laughed. “Yeah, real helpful.”

“Hey guys," Mike walked in at that moment, "we finally found--why is the baby holding Cam’s nose?”

“He tried to ask her for advice,” Kay grinned before she turned back to Mike, “So any news?”

“We found an ID and…" Mike shook his head briefly, "Let's just say I’m glad you guys are sitting down.”

Kay frowned, “Why? What is it?”

“Well, our victim’s name is Fiona Jonbroni, twenty-six years old, was placed in the foster care system when she was four after her mother died in a car accident.”

Cameron grimaced, “Poor girl, I’ve heard the system’s rough.”  

“It can be.” Mike sighed, “She bounced around foster homes until she was eighteen, found a job where she met a Shawn Blanc and they were married three years ago.”

“What happened to him?” Kay grew concerned, instinctively holding the child closer without realizing it.

“I just sent a team to their apartment to see if he’s there.”

Cameron looked at the innocent little girl. “So there’s a chance that she’s still got a parent out there?”

“That’s what we’re hoping for.”

“Do we have the kid’s name? I mean, we can’t keep calling her Little Lady or Kid.”

“It says here that her name is Farrah Blanc, with two Rs.”

Cameron smiled at the little girl before taking her back from Kay. 

“So, your name is Farrah, huh? Well, it makes sense. You’re like the fairest of them all.” He joked, noting that the girl’s pale skin and apple red cheeks could give Snow White a run for her money.

Kay shot Cameron an unamused look. “Cam, come on, you know how I feel about puns.”

Cameron simply grinned. “It’s after nine, Kay, I think I'm safe.”

“Wait,” Suddenly Kay was confused, "You said you were glad we were sitting. What's going on, Mike?”

“Well, Fiona’s birth certificate listed her mother as Violet Jonbroni and...” He hesitated, clearly reluctant to keep going. 

“And her father?” Cameron prodded.

“And... the father listed here is someone you might recognize." Mike's face grew grim. "Sebastian Black.”

Cameron’s eyes suddenly went wide with shock. “W-wait,” He let out a nervous chuckle. “A-are you saying that our victim was my father’s daughter? But that’s imposs--that would mean...”

“Cameron…" Mike's throat went dry; he could barely say the rest. 

"I think our victim was your sister."

No, you are not experiencing déjà vu, this is the same ‘A Bundle of Secrets’ I wrote over a year ago... however as I have been writing the sequel and rereading it... ‘A Bundle of Secrets’ was my first real fanfic I took seriously and it sorely needed improving.

I hope that you had enjoyed the original version but with the help of my good friend @s4karuna, we have revamped ‘A Bundle of Secrets’ into a smoother and more enjoyable read.

I want this story to be the best it can be and I am grateful to my friend for helping me rewrite it... this is gonna be fun, you guys are gonna see a lot of additional/deleted scenes!

#deception #cameron black #kay daniels #mike alvarez #deakins #a bundle of secrets #rewrite #deception fanfiction #renewdeception #savedeception #deception abc

[altusmage]

          ❝ good day, my name is dorian the necromancer and welcome to my unboxing video! ❞

#its 2am and i was just reminded that this tiktok exists #idk what the purpose of this post is but im caCKLING #⊹ · ( crack! ) * . the fade says “ peek—a—boo.”

[lavenderthebook-blog]

Chapter 1: Just me and old ghosts.

On the 3rd on June, my feet landed in the wilds of Ireland. 

I shall not share with you exactly where, because I don’t wish for people to go there seeking what I found. Just know that, on that day, the clouds gave way to light, and it was bright. I looked about at where I’d come to summer this year. The old, worn cobbled courtyard paved the way between 3 structures. First was the small 20-meter-long cottage that I’d been told to not enter. It’s door crumbled to the whims of the wind, and as I tried to gaze in through the window, which was held in place by cobwebs, I only saw old furniture, baskets of nick knacks, and the occasional thing that glimmered in the light, but which I could not make out from outside. My hand touched the wall of the cottage as I attempted to perch myself upward for a better look, the warmth of the day was sucked away from me, and I was left cold. And that was the end of that. I did not fancy being murdered in a haunted cottage. Whilst that would make a great little book, be thankful it’s not this one. I certainly am. Second, the garage. One quick peek around the corner showed me that it was not simply used as a resting place for unfinished projects and lost things. It was full of every conceivable item a farmer might use, from any conceivable time. I will defend to my deathbed that I saw the world very first scythe mounted on a mantle in the back. No lights existed in this place bar that which crept in through cracks and nooks from outside. Not haunted, so, comparatively, better than the cottage. Thirdly, lastly, and grandest, was the main house. It was as beautiful brute, with no finesse or grace to it. It had been built to weather the coldest of winters, and it did so proudly. It’s hanging baskets of flowers, small rusted windows, mouldy dark guttering, and faded cream paint was nothing special, but a welcome dose of rural life. No thatched roof. A shame, as I always wanted to see what they were like. Instead, just plain black tiles. I reached under the mat and found the key, unlocked the lock, and stepped in.

 Who doesn’t like seeing an agga when they walk into a home? It’s the heart of a house, and whilst time may have forgotten them, my heart never will. Fond memories of my youth came back to me. Flipping the toast whist it was in its weird rigid net. The shovelling of sausages into one of its many doors only to then shovel them into myself. The time-honoured tradition of resting sock covered feet on it when winter came to try fend off frostbite. It made me think of my Mum and my Dad. They won’t be mentioned again in this book, but if they read this, know that whenever I see an agga, I think of you both. The agga, acting as a sort of all-in-one cooking device dubbed this room the kitchen. The plain wooden cupboards adorning the bare brick walls, large steel sink, and varnished wooden island that doubled as both food prepping area and food consumption area confirmed this further. I dropped my bags on the wooden floor and headed further into the heart of the beast.

The only way onwards from the kitchen was the deep darkness of the hallway. With only one painted glass window as a light source, as well as any that happened to spill out of the kitchen, the hallway was likely as bright at midday as it was at midnight. Luckily, the small radiator, white stairs, and the cheerful nature of the painted glass did give it a more friendly feel rather than fiendish. The white stairs lay to my left, whilst further on to my right was a closed door.

The door led to a small, but cosy room, painted a now faded zinc, hosted a tv wearing its AV cable input as if a row of medals in the far-right corner, and a surprisingly new and likely Swedish bookshelf on the left, which was newer than any of the books and things that lay on its shelves. Betwixt them lay the large, ornate fireplace, its steel cold to the touch, but clearly having been used a lot as it had been blackened by soot. I’d imagine it grew a shade darker each year, as it would be necessary come winter. The sofa across from all of these was comfy. It filled the room with dust when I let myself fall into it, but its faded emerald colour and the sheer depth it let me fall into told me I’d be spending many a morning sat in it, happily munching at toast whilst guessing at the tv’s static charades in an effort to watch something.

Now up the stairs, which creaked a bit, but who doesn’t like a minorly creaky step? It gives such boring a thing some character. Upstairs were 4 rooms. Two were almost identical bedrooms, with only a small table, a single bed on a steel bedframe, and a chair in them. The only difference was that one was painted periwinkle blue and faced north, the other fuschia and south.

The next room was a grand bathroom and was above the kitchen, and was painted almost completely clinical, pure white. An old standalone bath, held upright by four feet moulded into the shape of lion paws, stood proudly cantered on the left wall, with the largest windows yet just next to it, ensuring that an unfortunate passing robin would be sure to catch a fright. The (thankfully) modern toilet was built into the far wall, and was next to the sink, which was a big clunky thing, and reminded me of why the saying used to be actually somewhat funny. On the right was a small dressing room, filled with now empty shelves, and a smell of very slight mildew and fabric softener. Hidden behind the bathroom’s door was a rather clinical 5 by 5 by 8 upright cut into the wall that had an almost watering can like nozzle fixed at the top, and a garden hose like tap on one of the ‘’walls’’. This was the ‘’’’shower’’’’. I saw no temperature nozzle, and realised there was no choice here, only pain. All of a sudden, I began to miss the city a little more.

I finally came to what I was to be my bedroom, which was decorated in a delicious shade of blonde (though, it may have been so appealing due to my own like for women who wore it). It was a large room, with a fittingly large queen sized bed centred along the wall, bedside tables on either side, with a large old hickory leather travel trunk at the foot of the bed.  3 differently styled wardrobes were dotted around the rooms walls. One was Japanese in appearance, with a beautiful mural painted across the two doors, and then otherwise raven. One a simple, but large oak thing, which seemed to lean slightly to the left. The last had once clearly been its twin, but was now covered in glitter, little drawings in crayon, and was marked on its side with 2 of the same names repeated upward as the age next to them grew too. It was a wardrobe that had been loved, and so I was pleased to have it here with me. ‘‘But the back blurb of the book promised me a romance story. What does a soggy description of a house have to do with that?’’ I hear you moan.

Not much really, if I’m honest. Though You’re quite the impatient bitch aren’t you? But if this book is to mean anything to you, as it does me, you have to come with me on this journey. You see, Ireland has a magic too it. Its raw and old. It lets life creep into every little thing that will hold it, and so all these pieces of furniture and appliances are just that, furniture and appliances. But for my three months there, they each took on a little life of their own and became dear friends to me. This is how you must see when reading this book. The best way to understand it is to go and hold something of yours that you’ve had for an age and feel yourself give it life. Ireland is a place where even a fence can take on such a life. And does so rather well. So yes, at times this will be a little pretentious, a little overly dramatic and poetic, and a little strange, but I will try my best to put not only my thoughts, but what I was feeling into words for you, dear reader. All I ask is that you try your hand at reading them as if you were there with me, and not simply an observer. Don’t read the moment, live it like you live the memory of your first kiss: with vivacity and a passion that you can’t escape.

 But you were promised ghosts in the chapter title, and you shall have them. Unfortunately, no white sheets came to life and booed at me that night. But as I sat falling into the sofa, the fading light of day painting the bookshelf, tv, and fireplace in fantastic hues of blush and tangerine, I thought on why I’d come here. I’d come with more than just physical baggage. You thought a person ventures out into the Irish wilderness to live in a farm for 3 months on a whim? I’d like to hope my whims would land me in some place sunnier, and with more obvious ways to escape or drown my sorrows like Ibiza, or New York. Unfortunately, I came here for a reason. I am Irish, but I’d never lived there. I’d not grown up there. I’d missed out on the unique zest for life that Ireland gifted its people, and I was in dire need for it now. Why? Because I was broken hearted, broke, and hopeless. My heart had been broken, as it often is, but a love turned sour. We’d been together for one amazing year, three good months, one odd month, then one great month, and then three months where I’d watched them fall in love with someone else. Now it had been one year without them, and without hope in the idea of love. It was not a pleasant feeling. I wanted them, but at the same time knew it would be like drinking poison. Even as I write this, my hand squeezes the pen as I’m forced to remembered fond memories that I wish forgotten.   I was broke because, for the last few months, I’d not written anything. Well, I’d written things. Small articles for a paper. A short story that lost an armature writing competition to a tale called ‘’Me and Rum: Fun Fun Fun’’. A children’s book that only proved to me that it was harder to write a children’s book than I’d previously thought. Turns out not every animal is cute when it can talk. Because of this, I’d lost all hope in myself as a writer, and the roaring blazes that had once fuelled me as I wrote now grew dimmer by the day.

And so, I’d returned to where my ancestors had been born, and grown, and bled, and cried, and loved, and fought,  and danced, and lost, and died in the hope that they might lend me their strength, or that the zest I’d missed out on would be paid to me with a bundle of interests attached. This, oddly, would turn out to be true.

But for now, simply imagine eyes closing as a laptop slowly slides off the side of a lap and into the sofa. A head falling into a chest. And the sound of snoring filling the house. I’d fallen asleep not knowing that beyond these walls she lay in wait for me, as much as I had, in a way, been waiting for her. I wonder if she’d spotted me as I’d come into the house, and watched through those rusty windows as I met each room, cooked with the agga, and mastered a duet with the tv where I held its antenna out the window and it, in turn, played the news. I hope she’d not seen me dance around under the showers cold water though. If she did, I hope it at least made her laugh.

#Lavender Chapter1 Justmeandoldghosts

[thefandomlesbian]

Satin Navy Comfort

For a prompt from @rabexxpaulson. Thank you! 

As usual, read on AO3 for the best experience! 

Sprawled out on the queen-sized bed on top of the luxurious satin comforter Billie Dean had purchased, Nora stared wantonly up at the plaster ceiling with its deep cracks running down it. The navy blue comforter--It reminds me of your eyes, Billie Dean had said, so I bought it for us--warmed quickly beneath her nude body. She hadn’t bothered to lock the door; she couldn’t prevent the other ghosts from disturbing her. Lately, though, they seemed to have decided to stay in the basement.

According to Hayden, she was even more insufferable now that Billie Dean was helping her piece together one hundred years of memories and interrupting her amnesia for spells of clarity. She didn’t mind. She preferred the solitude and the privacy she was granted when Billie Dean came to visit her. She liked having some company to herself. No one had ever visited just for her before. In fact, no one had paid any attention to her at all since Tate was a child. She enjoyed having the focus of Billie Dean’s attention.

But right now, Nora was in quite a predicament. A heady aroma rose from between her legs. One absent finger traced up and down the fuzz-coated lips, plucking them apart by tugging on the wiry hair and then allowing them to settle back together. I should wait. Licking her lips, she gulped. She didn’t want to wait. She had no way of knowing when Billie Dean would come back for her. Why waste the moment? She couldn’t get her mind off of Billie Dean’s perfect, lean body.

In her mind, she remembered the last time they had made love. Billie Dean unbuttoned her blouse. The top button broke free. Her freckled chest peeked out from behind a white lace bra, disguised by the red fabric. The psychic smirked at her. Her short, pale pink fingernails trailed over her own chest, unbuttoning the second clasp and revealing more of her bra. The third revealed all of it. The fourth, the top pudge of her abdomen. The fifth hovered above her navel. The sixth separated and allowed her to shrug free from the garment. Her exposed body set fire between Nora’s legs.

She could never get enough of Billie Dean. Her hand spread her labia again, the outer lips, and then she delicately brushed her fingers up and down the meaty, protruding interior. It had ashamed her when she was younger, before she died, but Billie Dean told her it was pretty like a flower, and she was inclined to believe whatever Billie Dean had to say about her. Following one fleshy lip to the crus of her clitoris, she found the nub under its hood. She bit back a gasp at the sensation of her finger on her most intimate bit. I love the way she touches me. Eyes fluttering closed, she pictured Billie Dean at the front of her mind, the way the psychic climbed on top of her. She’s so sexy… The inside of her mouth dried up as she recalled Billie Dean straddling her thigh, grinding against the soft musculature of her leg.

Her memory would never splinter for a moment like that. Billie Dean’s exposed breasts jiggled in the fading evening light; they never lit a lamp during these excursions, but rather struck a candle on the occasion that one of them wanted something more than the provisions by the windows. Nora never did. Nora loved seeing the universe in whatever way she could, now that Billie Dean had reminded her that there was a universe to be witnessed, even if only through the window of the murder house. But Billie Dean was a sap for candlelight, and Nora couldn’t bring herself to deny her anything. It was unusual, that Nora wanted to give to her partner instead of taking and taking and taking like a greedy leach.

Hiking her legs up, Nora fondled her clitoris between her forefinger and middle finger, dragging them around it, pinching them together. She arched her back and dug her head into the pillows, trying to get a better grip. I miss her. Plucking her lower lip between her teeth, she took the pad of her longest finger and touched it to the hood of her clitoris. It twitched under her slight touch. Billie Dean sucked on her breasts--at first, she had thought it strange and inappropriate, but it had grown on her after she first experienced it--and kissed her tummy. Billie Dean never complained that she was cold to the touch. Billie Dean made her feel warm again.

Trailing her finger up form the vestibule of her vagina to her clitoris, Nora scooped all of her lubricant from inside herself and rubbed it over her twitching muscle, which craved more stimulus. She rubbed her finger faster. Her hips lifted up into the stimulus, gyrating into the air. “Mm…” She didn’t make a lot of noise. She didn’t want to clue the other ghosts in to her activity.

Her breath fanned in and out of her open mouth with quiet gasps. She didn’t want to release anything else, but those couldn’t be stifled. The whistles of her vocal cords attached to every breath were the closest she got to a verbal moan. Billie Dean never had so many reservations. She would mount Nora and grind her hips against her thigh and ride her hard. Being ridden, watching Billie Dean pleasure herself on top of her… It sent spikes of pleasure through Nora’s whole body. Her nipples hardened and pebbled at the thought.

Nora was so preoccupied with herself, she didn’t hear footsteps climbing the stairs. The door creaked as Billie Dean bumped it open. “Nora?”

Brown eyes as wide as saucers drank in the sight of Nora on the bed. Nora’s eyes widened at the sound of Billie Dean’s voice. Oh, fuck. Shame coursed through Nora’s body. She took her hand away from her lower body and covered her face with both of them. The lubricant on her middle finger smudged on her forehead. “Oh, god, I wish I were dead.” Billie Dean didn’t answer her. Nora amended, “I wish I were nonexistent in death!”

The second sentence drew a weak chuckle from Billie Dean. She slipped off her high heels and took off her coat. “I didn’t ask you to stop, boo bear.” She crawled onto the bed beside Nora, unbuttoning her blouse. Nora peeked at her from between her fingers. “Do you want some help, darling?”

One hand trailed from Nora’s sternum down between her breasts. She trembled with the sheer heat Billie Dean brought to her. Mute with shame, Nora nodded. “I… I am not opposed to the idea of some aid.”

With a dark chuckle, Billie Dean kissed the underside of her jaw and peppered kisses down her. “I spent all day thinking about you,” she whispered to the husk of Nora’s ear. Nora shivered. Billie Dean closed her mouth around one of Nora’s breasts. The tingling between her legs flushed into a licentious heat. The urge to touch herself grew into an ache; her body had experienced her hand on her clitoris, and it wanted something to return to relieve the pressure growing inside of her. A soft whine keened from Nora’s throat. “Poor dear,” Billie Dean breathed into her breast. She nursed tenderly from Nora’s cold chest, the tip of her tongue flicking across her nipple. A choked sound emerged from Nora. “Somebody is randy…”

“I don’t know what that means!” Nora gasped. She tossed her head back. “Billie Dean, please, touch me--I’m tortured.”

Billie Dean smirked. “As you wish, pillow princess.” Nora didn’t know why Billie Dean called her that, but she didn’t care, either. She spread out her legs as wide as she could manage. Billie Dean buried her face between her thighs and licked up her vulva. A shudder passed through  Nora’s body. “Mm…” Billie Dean moaned the long sound into her fleshy lips, spreading her inner labia apart to taste all of the goodness trickling from inside her body.

Nora closed her mouth to keep from crying out. She clenched her jaw tightly. “Ngh!” The sounds in the back of her throat could not be stifled. I’m craving her. Billie Dean hadn’t undressed. She wore her filming clothes, the ones designed to bring out her figure and make her more attractive. Nora wriggled as Billie Dean pried her legs apart and wrapped her mouth around her clitoris. The sucking sensation ripped through her. Billie Dean slurped at her vulva until she tossed her head back and cried out.  

When she made the loud sound, Billie Dean released her clitoris from her mouth and dipped her tongue into Nora’s vagina. Nora wiggled, unable to hold still. The sensation was unfamiliar, like an eel crawling up into her vagina, but it was pleasant, too--or perhaps the knowledge that Billie Dean was doing it made it pleasurable. Her tongue loosened. “Billie Dean! I feel so--” She didn’t know the word for what she felt. “Ugh!” Her clitoris twitched with need. Her hand flew between her legs, but Billie Dean grabbed it and pinned it to the mattress. “I can’t! I need you!” Waiting for Billie Dean to bring her release was torturous. Hadn’t she waited long enough for Billie Dean?

The tip of Billie Dean’s nose brushed the bulb her clitoris. “You’re so pretty, all stretched out for me…” Nora squirmed. “Oh, darling, I’ll give you what you want… I can’t stand to watch you be so needy.” Darling. Nora usually did not appreciate Billie Dean’s propensity for sweet names, but she couldn’t bring herself to complain.

The hot mouth wrapped around her clitoris again, the tip of her tongue working against the sensitive, twitching nub. She sucked hard. Nora lifted her hips off of the bed. Oh, goodness! The sensations rolling through her carted her off to another dimension. Billie Dean’s hands, her beautiful body grinding against the mattress, roamed Nora’s lower body, caressing her fuzzy, cold thighs. “I’m so--” She couldn’t remember many words. “I feel so--” Billie Dean ground her lower jaw against Nora’s clitoris.

Explosions erupted through her vision, starstruck with fireworks splitting the night sky. “Ah!” Her hands tangled into Billie Dean’s caramel colored hair. The orgasm flushed through her with pangs of pleasure coursing through her. “I can’t--Oh, lord.”

The cataclysmic seismic waves faded into aftershock. Billie Dean licked all over her vulva until Nora reached for her, and she crawled up beside her again, relaxing on top of the satin cover. “This was a very nice surprise, dear, I hope you know.” Nora smiled at her, still ashamed of herself. “So, I take it you had a pretty good day…”

“It just got better.”

Billie Dean laughed. Reaching for Nora, she wrapped her in her arms. “I’m glad.” She pressed a kiss to Nora’s forehead. “Would you like to go again?”

“Always.”

#sarah paulson #lily rabe #nora montgomery #billie dean howard #hotgomery #writing

[themonkeycabal]

Okay, so a million years ago I posted a snippet of a fic about the Garage, and how Darcy found that Howard stored some of Bucky’s things there. 

And so here’s what was in Bucky’s trunk:

"Yay! Pin-up girls! I had my fingers crossed. Not disappointed." Darcy pushed the corner back of the poster on the inside lid, the tape giving way after 70 years. A blonde woman in short shorts and a red, faux military jacket, saluting the viewer and sitting seductively, yet demurely, on the wing of an airplane. "She looks patriotic."

"Doesn't she just." Bucky laughed and pulled out a bundle of cloth, wrapped in brown paper, a laundry stamp on the top. "Why the hell did Howard keep my laundry for 70 years?"

"I doubt he paid attention," Darcy said, lifting another little folded poster. "He just grabbed it all, shoved it into storage." This pin-up had her long and shapely legs kicked high, laying back on a beach in a very short sailor's uniform, looking over her shoulder. Darcy wolf-whistled and set it aside. "I say we frame these and put 'em on the walls here."

Bucky gave her a skeptical look and pulled out his old army cap, tossing it aside. Darcy grabbed it and put it on. It was big on her, but that just meant she could have it fashionably and rakishly cocked on her head. She was not above a little pin-up modeling. And Bucky definitely looked, his cheeks even went a little pink. Most adorable brainwashed assassin ever.

He pulled a green, battered notebook out of the trunk.

"What's that?"

"Sniper log."

"Cool." She snatched it out of his hand and flipped through the ballistics charts and messy scrawl of targeting calculations, while he shook his head. "What? I've got binders with my artillery worksheets."

"I used to think you were just yanking my chain about that."

"We've got computers for targeting, but dad made me learn how to do it by hand. Slide-rules, plotting wheels, and graph paper." She lowered her voice to mimic her father's, “'Because, Darcy, if we don't understand what the computer's doing, how can we make it better?' I might not be a sniper and a crack shot with a rifle, but I can hit a teacup from twenty miles away. So there."

"Sure, you'll take out the teacup, the building the teacup's in, and the building next to that. What did the teacup ever do to you?"

"I'm sure it had it coming."

She set aside his notebook and leaned over to dig out a Stars & Stripes paper, and something called Yank; which turned out to be another Army paper and not something more amusing. Boo.

"Why were you hoarding papers?"

"Two isn't a hoard. Somebody probably just shoved 'em in the locker when … you know, when they packed up. Like the laundry." He shrugged and pulled out a cylindrical, olive green can. "Your granddad, the idiot. Most of this is junk. Who wants an old scope case?"

"Rifle scope? Oh, me." She caught it when he tossed it her way. "Vintage military stuff."

"It's a beat up old case." He shook his head and pulled out another pack of laundry. "For cryin' out loud." Muttering to himself, he tossed that pack aside, too.

"Hey, clean clothes. Come on."

"They've been in a box for seventy years; there's nothing clean about them. It's just undershirts and socks or whatever." He shook his head and pulled out a long, flat, black box. "I can't believe he kept this stuff."

"What's that?"

"Think it had a bayonet. Empty. More junk for you to collect."

"Yay!" She cheered and caught the case when he threw that her way, too. "Honestly, whatever you don't want or need, we'll toss. I mean, I feel pretty sure I can find twenty other scope cans in storage somewhere."

"Yeah, and those will probably have their scopes in them."

"True. But none of them will be yours."

"So what?"

"Oh, Bucky." With an amused smile she patted his shoulder. "So old, so innocent. Wait until you read your own biography."

"My … what?"

"It's decent." As a history, the biography wasn't great, it really wasn't, but it wasn't horrible either. Pretty light, but at least not full of speculation or bullshit — there was one crap book about the Commandos published during the 80s that claimed he was a Nazi agent all along. She didn't remember the details, she'd only heard about it third hand, but his grandnephew sued with Howard's backing — maybe Peggy's, too.

Bucky Barnes was Captain America's best friend, but he wasn't Captain America, and he didn't garner the same attention or detailed study. However, there was a period, during the Vietnam-era, when Captain America wasn't so popular, and Bucky Barnes somehow became a weird counter-culture figure; a symbol of both friendship and youth sacrificed on the alter of state ambition. Boomers raged against their Greatest Generation parents by co-opting one of their heroes. She honestly had no clue how he'd feel about that.

Not great judging by the horrified look on his face.

"I don't want to ever see that," he said in a tone that was both serious and panicky.

"I swear I will never make you look at it." And she wouldn't. "Though," she continued thoughtfully, "Colonel Phillips wrote the definitive book on the Howling Commandos during the war. It's really good. Steve liked it. They made a movie based off it a dozen years ago or something like that. Not bad. The book's better, of course."

"You meet Phillips in '46?"

"No, sadly. He was in D.C. doing whatever retired Colonels do when they're still scowling and supervising spy organizations."

"Magazine pouch." He handed her the faded khaki holder. It clanked when she took it and she opened it to check the clips still inside. Empty, thankfully. She didn't want to deal with 70-year old munitions. "Canteen cover. Gun belt. I ditched this stuff when we got folded into the SSR."

"I've always noticed your uniform wasn't exactly uniform."

He considered that for a moment, then shrugged. "Maybe not, but since we weren't all even US Army, and then they stuck us in the SSR, what did it matter? Geez, we were going into battle with a guy dressed like the flag. Nobody had any room to complain."

"So touchy. It was a good look on you. Again with the stupid gratuitous buttons, but still. I think you should adopt the leather gaiters again." She leaned forward and peered in the trunk again. "Do you have any in here?"

"Probably not." He pulled out a thick book. "My bible."

That felt like a weighty subject she wasn't sure how to comment on, but she spotted an out and gratefully fell into the tendencies born of her DNA and cracked a joke.

"Is that your bible, or is this your bible?" Darcy reached past him and lifted out the booklet titled How To Get Along With Girls. That was so good, she almost couldn't talk past her amusement. "Oh honey. Did you need the help?"

Bucky sighed the sigh of a man who knew he was about to get shit and there was no way out. "One of the guys was a joker. I don't remember which one it was."

"I feel like this was a Morita gift."

Bucky smiled appreciatively, like he was relieved that she could know that, and nodded. "Probably. Should've given it to Steve."

"I think he could still use it," she laughed, and flipped through the book. "Oh, a quiz. Sort of. How to pick your right girl. 'Do you have similar tastes in most things?'"

"Yeah."

"Explosives, weapons, bar-keeping. Check, check, check. Next: Is she a good sport? Well, duh, yes."

Bucky snorted and pulled a card out of his actual bible. Darcy was trying not to snoop, and a bible seemed extra personal, but she peeked — a prayer card for a soldier. Oh, Bucky.

"'Is she a flirt? Does she make you jealous?" Darcy made a face at the book then made one at him. "I don't play that game. Besides, you do that all on your own."

"Mostly I'm teasing you."

"Only mostly. You've gotta get over the Steve thing."

He grumbled and pawed through a handful of loose odds and ends at the bottom of the trunk — buttons and boot laces and candy wrappers. "Next."

"'Does she tell lies? Do you mind?' Oh, that's a minefield. Spy! I'm a spy! Of course I lie! And I'm awesome at it. So, as a skill—"

"I appreciate it. And I don't think you've ever lied to me."

"No, I don't think so, either. Because that's not a great foundation for a friendship or partnership or whatever-this-is-ship. And, that's bitten me in the ass hard, in a not fun way. Oh, wait, when we met, I said my name was Stark."

"Not really a lie."

"I didn't feel like it was, but in the interests of being honest about lying." The next question sent her eyes rolling. "'Is she a nag?' Do I nag? Sometimes? I don't mean to nag. I think it's a boundaries thing. I blame my father. I'm working on that."

"You do it lightly, I guess. You push, and then you back off. So, that's not really nagging."

"You nag, too."

"Yeah. More stuff in common, huh?"

"'Is she quarrelsome?' You love it."

"You're not that kind of quarrelsome. One of our neighbors, Mrs … damn. I don't remember, she lived right next door. Steve might know. Anyway, boy, you could hear her laying into her husband a block away, about every damned thing under the sun. Then he'd bellow back and my ma'd pound on the wall for them to shut up."

"Fun."

"Yeah. So, you're not that sort."

"Glad to hear it. 'Has she tried to boss you?'"

Bucky laughed and shoved away from the trunk. And then he kept laughing. She scowled. "There's a little bit in parenthesis after that question — it says 'maybe you need a boss'. So there."

Bucky grabbed the book out of her hand and scanned down the list of questions a fellow ought to ask himself before giving in to that irrational monster called love.

"'Does she expect you to support her in a definite style?'"

"You'd better believe it, buddy."

"'Would she go to work if necessary?' Christ, could I stop her?"

"No, you couldn't." She sniffed at him and pulled another book out of his trunk. "My grandpa says idle hands are the devil's workshop."

"Your hands, definitely." He tossed the booklet into the trash box and she squawked in protest and scrambled to dig it out. "Gotta meet your other gramps. Sounds like a good guy."

Darcy took the booklet and put it into the save pile for Steve. "You'd like him, for sure. Steve says I talked him into going home with me for Thanksgiving that one time, but it was actually grandpa Jim. I wasn't getting anywhere, because he thought he was imposing for some reason. So I called grandpa and handed the phone to Steve. He was all 'Steve, son, I've got an extra fourteen pound turkey I won at a raffle. You don't want that to go to waste, do you?'"

"That would've done it," Bucky agreed.

"What's this?" She pulled out a leather case with a zipper across the top.

"Shaving kit."

Shaving razors and foam weren't the only thing in the kit, and she snickered as she pulled out a small cardboard box. "Condoms, Sgt. Barnes? Pharaoh brand. Oh la la."

He tried to snatch the box out of her hand but she moved quicker. Which would have impressed them both if she hadn't been laughing so hard at his mock pout, she really just tripped backwards out of his reach.

He rolled his eyes and threw the kit into the trash pile. "Hey, do you know how many damned health films we had to watch?"

"So many?"

"By the time we got to Europe, I was ready for the Nazis to shoot me."

Darcy kept laughing and tossed the box into the 'keep' pile.

"It's junk," he protested.

"It's vintage design. Somebody put a whole lot of effort into the illustrations on that box." A fellow in a pith helmet in front of the Pyramids with palm trees and a belly dancer. "That is a work of art. Like, you know exactly what's in it, but it's all classy and exotic, too." She patted his hand. "Way to be health conscious, soldier."

"You're a weird broad."

"That's true," she agreed. "So … French girls or English?"

"None of your damned business," he said, but he was chuckling with her, shaking his head and pulling a couple more books out of the locker.

He handed her one, and she thumbed through it, her skin rasping against the strange, pulpy paper. Just like every other industry, wartime rationing hit the publishers, too, lowering the quality of bindings and the paper itself. The spine cracked like a dry twig when she opened it, and the pages were decidedly yellow, but they weren't yet brittle, and the book was still legible.

"Raymond Chandler. Good choice."

Bucky's eyes lit up and he leaned towards her. "You like Chandler?"

"I love me some hard boiled fiction, Sergeant."

"Well, what do you know," he murmured, looking a little adoring.

She felt a touch breathless herself. "I bet you never saw 'The Big Sleep'. Classic. Humphrey Bogart, Lauren Bacall. We'll have to watch it."

"Sounds like a date."

"Sounds like it might be."

#my fic #run 'verse #darcy lewis #bucky barnes #fic snippet #btw that booklet is a real thing #fic bit

[what-even-is-thiss]

My Sanders Sides Fanfic Master List

If you like my fanfics please consider buying me a coffee.

I’ll try my best to remember to update this list. If you’re looking for a more recent thing and it’s not on here you can find it under the tag #roman wrote a thing or #fanfiction and maybe remind me to add it if it’s been a day or two since I posted it. Oldest things near the bottom, newer things near the top, groups of small stuff at the tippy top grouped together because they’re tiny. Stuff I added to reblogs or asks don’t usually have titles so I just put a small description instead. The very oldest stuff started in April 2017.

EDIT August 2019: If a post has an audio reading to go with it I will add a link to it with the length of said audio post next to the link

Number/really short ask fics (all platonic I don’t do romo): Tiny Moxiety  outta my face  naked logicality  Sleepy Logince  Baby Bump  Biting that lip  Angsty moxiety lap sitting  Did you flick me  Shut up and kiss me  Prinxiety hot when you’re mad  Pregnant dream  Should marry me  Just saved your life  Analogical prank  Bite me  Royality, please don’t leave me  You’re hot shame about the personality  Help me hide  Kiss as bad as I do  cat in a bag  Frozen in Fear  Emotional intelligence  Wasn’t my choice  Angsty sonnet  Analogical Stargazing  onesies  Prinxiety fluff/wings au  The sides speaking to Thomas  

Mud Fics (muddled/out of context flash fiction): Killed him  Have u seen Roman  Collab with Vivi  Who am I  Not really anything  the phone  Opposite day? Fusion confusion   Princely heels  VirgilxReader  Moxiety Dancing  

Regular Fics and Reblog Add-Ons:

Off of Land, Out Of Water (Mer au, Multi-chaptered fic)

Thinking

Dancing

It’s gatorade

Another illogical nightmare

Shapeshifter au

Kids say the Darndest Things

Lose All Control

Fusion (analogical)

Steam Punk au Short

I see people (ghost au)  (ghost au worldbuilding)

Scenarios (fictional Thomas daydream)

The ways you’re scared

Vampire Au (Roman as a vampire, Logan and Virgil as humans

Found Evidence (Patton as a psychopath)

Faulty Logic

We’re friends, right? (deceit)

Avatar AU (multi chapter fic)

I Need a Hug (touch starvation)

Bonding Time

Sides as gods

I’m not much of a singer

Movement on Paper (dyslexic Logic)

this makes no sense

Sick Day

Word Vomit Sick Fic

Logan and Patton android AU

Virgil taught Roman how to fight

Sun Boy (Solar nymph thingy)

Logan’s angsty anger issues

Monster

Feeling in One and Zero (android Patton)

Repressed Anger

Prinxiety Coffeeshop AU

All that’s Left (demon AU)

Hogwarts AU, 4 Patton in Slytherin

Ancient civilizations crack fic

What I Don’t Want To See

The Little Side (toddler Logic)

Anxiety hurting morality

No Sense

Hogwarts AU Squib Virgil

Heightened (Winged Anxiety)

In His Mind

The Dragon Witch

Blind With Rage, Alternate Version

Lights Out

Multiple dads crack fic

Yogurting

The One With the Stolen Hoodie

Sleepwalking Prince

The Public Humiliation Foundation

Shattered Dreams

Watch What You Do

Nature spirit AU

Dragon AU Dragons and mistakes  Dragons and friendship

Can’t Reach

Vampire Verge, Hunter Roman

The Fade Out

Virgil

The alphabet

Dark Spells

Glowing

Near the Beginning

Santa

Blind With Rage

Suddenly alert and off the couch

*confused yelling noises*

Mute

So apparently creativity diminishes when you don’t sleep

I remember

Roman’s the villain in his own story

Fake Smiles Part 1 Part 2

Father’s Day

Tired

First You Take Them By The Hand

Blurry

Anime Villain

Reckless Prince

Royally Alone

Good Night

Secret Hobby

Devil’s hour cookie incident

Home is Where the Heart is

Blocked

Rather be numb

Just Slow Down

Norse Mythology/4 Seasons AU The Four Seasons Origins Missing

Not Here. Not Now.

I Need To Chill

Missing

An Anxious Touch Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Pathos/Patriarch

Forced Insomnia

Emotions or Thoughts

Always the Truth

It’s Obvious You Like Him

Bruised Ego

Broken Heart

Short Stories of Nightmares

You Don’t Know Everything

Anxiety hates peek-a-boo

Illogical nightmare

Platonic Prinxiety true love’s kiss

When Logic Grew Up

Descriptive Sayings

Anxiety Thinks princey’s gonna kill him

Sanders Switch Meets Sanders Sides

#sanders sides #roman wrote a thing #master post #fic master post #roman said a thing

[solastia]

Don’t Talk Back To Me

ONE SHOT

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x Reader

Word Count: 2,002

Summary: The pet bird that you have overlooking your balcony shit talks me whenever I go out on my own balcony AU

Genre & Warnings: I don’t even know y’all. It’s Jin having yelling matches with a damn parrot. Fluff I guess. Occasional cursing because I have a potty mouth.

Notes: This idea has been floating around in my head since Bon Voyage. Enjoy. Someday I’ll get around to actually making something for Jin that isn’t crack lol. 

Getting his own place was quite possibly the smartest thing Kim Seokjin had ever done. 

His small one bedroom apartment was free of six other grown ass men bothering him for attention and treating him like he was their mother, and he couldn’t be happier. He finally had a place where he could cook what he wanted, decorate how he wanted, watch whatever he wanted. Hell, he could walk around naked and no one could stop him. 

He still had to stay in the dorms when they were really busy, but for now, he was allowed his little sanctuary. He settled into his brand new comfy couch that he didn’t have to kick off anyone to use. He turned on his television and watched some cheesy medical drama without a peep of complaints from anyone. Then he decided to really live it up and discard the use of pants. No pants in his bachelor pad. He really settled in and decided to not do a damn thing for hours.

Until he got the call to go into work. 

He sighed and looked at his discarded pants in disgust. The sooner he finished, the sooner he could come back and enjoy his alone time. 

Jin was furious. He’d bottled it all up at work since he couldn’t really scream at his boss. The company had once again screwed him over. Apparently, he’d received an offer to star in a promising drama, but the company had declined it without even asking him for his opinion. Sure, they were going to be busy during the filming, but other idols took the time to act; why couldn’t he? That’s what he wanted to do in the first place. But no, they’d rather keep him in the back of the BTS line. 

He got home to his new apartment and slammed the door, feeling a tad bit better as it closed with a nice bang. He then kicked off his shoes, smiling to himself as they sailed across the room. Next were the offensive pants being kicked into a corner. Jin stood in all his pantless glory as he surveyed his bachelor kingdom and debated what he needed next. 

A DRINK! 

He stomped to his fridge and pulled out the two bottles of Raspberry Soju that one of the boys had given him as a housewarming present. It was time to drink his troubles away. 

One and a half bottles of Soju later, Jin was feeling horribly hot. He was still angry, but he was fairly certain that heating up when you’re mad was just something that happened in cartoons. Or he would be fairly certain if he wasn’t so wasted. 

He needed to cool off, but he’d hadn’t gotten around to buying a fan yet. The outside air would have to do. Thankfully, it was one in the morning so there wouldn't be anyone around and he wouldn’t have to try to put his damn pants back on. 

He walked to the sliding glass door and opened it, the fresh night air feeling good already. He took a deep breath and exhaled loudly as he looked around from his balcony. Luckily the balcony was solid, so even if someone was walking around this time of night, they would simply see his top half and not get freaked out by the drunk, pantsless man. 

He was starting to feel his anger twindle into the more manageable emotion of resignation. He was still upset, but it seemed pointless to be. They’d never let him have his chance. 

He was just getting ready to head back inside and go to bed when he heard a...whistle? 

“Hello? Is someone there?” Jin asked softly, praying that no one would answer. 

“Peek-a-boo,” an eerie voice called out.   

“What the hell?!” Jin shouted, backing closer to his door in fright. 

“Peek-a-boo.” The voice said again. 

“Damn, that’s creepy as hell. Stop that!” Jin yelled, trying to find the person the voice was coming from. It sounded like it was on the balcony next to him, but he didn’t see anything but a blanket covered lump on a table. 

Jin peered at the lump closely. It could be coming from nothing else. Sure enough, the lump started to shake and the blanket slid off. 

It was a damn parrot. 

Jin breathed a sigh of relief. The last thing he needed was his new neighbor meeting him drunk and without pants. 

“YAH! I don’t care who you are. You don’t go around scaring people like that. Go to sleep, bird!” Jin yelled at the parrot as it flapped it’s grey wings as if to show off.

“Nighty Night birb!” It squawked.

“That’s what I said. Go to sleep and leave me alone.” Jin growled, wondering if he was going to have to listen to a parrot freaking out every day now. 

“Don’t do that! Don’t do that!” The parrot was screaming. 

“Don’t do what? I’ll do whatever I damn well please. I’m a man. A human. An incredibly good looking and famous one at that. So YOU don’t do that.” Jin grumbled at the bird who was dancing around looking very unimpressed with him.

“Gimme a kiss.” The parrot shouted. 

“Ah, even the animal kingdom can’t resist a kiss from Kim Seokjin. Here you go.” Jin sent the parrot one of his famous flying kisses with a smirk, laughing at himself and the ludicrous situation. 

“YUCK!” The bird squawked.

“EXCUSE YOU! I’ll have you know that many people beg for those kisses. Yuck, your face! Who asks for kisses from you, beak face?!” Jin began to lean over the right side of his balcony to get a better look at the parrot. Whoever trained this thing forgot to teach it manners. 

Jin gazed at the loud bird as he downed the last half of his bottle of Soju. He took enough shit from the humans around him, he didn’t need to take it from a bird too. 

“Listen, bird, you’re going to have to shut up. I’m going to go to bed now and I don’t want to hear you all night. I’ll file a complaint against your owner if you do.” He mumbled, leaning against the balcony for support as he felt the alcohol start to take over. 

“QUIET YOU CREEP!” The parrot screamed and Jin stared at it in disbelief. 

How dare a bird disrespect him! 

“Shut up!” Jin screeched.

“Fuck you bird!” it yells back.Obviously, it’s used to being yelled at.

“YAH, you damn bird. Don’t talk back to me! How dare you insult me in my own kingdom of no pants! I take too much shit at work to have to deal with you at home too. I want to act, but will they let me? NOOO. Will they let me sing? Here, we’ll give you one song and a couple of lines. I feel like they’re holding me back and it feels horrible. So you! You will not anger me in my own house. I will not take disrespect from something that probably tastes delicious roasted and covered in gravy. You hear me?” Jin yelled at the bird, it’s squawking fading as he blacked out. 

The first thing that Jin felt as he woke up was the pain. His head was pounding and his mouth was dry as the Sahara. All of his bones were cracking as he pushed himself upright. He ran a hand down his face and scraped at his eyes. He opened them gradually and looked around as they adjusted to the light. 

This was not his apartment. 

He took in the various knick-knacks and decor, everything pointing to this being a place where a woman lived. There were high heels at the door, a lovely flower display on the coffee table, even the blanket covering him was pink. Jin lifted it up and groaned in embarrassment when he saw his pantsless self. He was somehow in an apartment that wasn’t his, hungover and pantsless. 

“Hey there, you’re finally awake. Are you feeling OK?” asked a melodious female voice. 

Jin followed the sound to the kitchen, where an incredibly pretty woman was stirring something on the stove. He stared, trying to get his mind working to patch all the clues together. 

“I’m...OK, I guess. Uh, could you tell me where I am?” He asked tentatively, cringing at the thought that he actually got so drunk he’d have to ask that. 

“My place. I’m guessing you’re the one that moved in next door. You...ummm...were banging on my door, and then you couldn’t remember how to get into your apartment so I let you come in. You passed out almost immediately. You’re lucky I was able to drag you onto the couch. You are damn heavy.” She giggled, putting whatever she was making into bowls, and grabbing some water and aspirin. She placed everything in front of him with a sweet smile.

“I was not that drunk,” Jin mumbled, red-faced.

“Sweetie, you introduced yourself as Mario and asked to fight Birdo. I’d say you were pretty drunk.”

"He started it!”

She laughed and handed him a spoon. She’d made him some hangover soup, and it actually smelled amazing. He felt bad making this gorgeous stranger cook and care for him, but it tasted as good as it smelled. He moaned loudly at the taste, blushing when she smiled at him with a pleased expression. 

“I’m...sorry you had to deal with this. I don’t usually drink like that, I promise.” He muttered in between bites. 

“It’s OK. We all have our off days. You can finish your breakfast and borrow that blanket to get home with when you’re ready. I’m Y/N, by the way.” 

“Nice to meet you. Umm, I can’t think of any way not to make this sound rude, but please don’t tell anyone I was here. You didn’t take any pictures or anything right? I’m...fairly well known.” Jin asked softly, trying not to offend her.

“I think I’m gonna have a heart attack and die from not surprise!” She chuckled.

“Leave it to the parrot owner to quote Iago from Aladdin.” Jin laughed, smiling over at the woman as she giggled. 

“I just mean the entire country knows who you are. You think I’d let just any pantsless man into my home? I’m a fan of yours, Mr. Kim Seokjin. Not a crazy one, don’t worry. There have been no pictures or social media updates. Although Mario of Kingdom No Pants would be a great meme.”

Jin groaned and hid his face behind his hands as she laughed. 

“Sorry. I just...I was venting on your bird when I was upset last night. And I guess I drank too much. On the plus side, the venting made me feel better.” 

“Well, I’m glad Ricky made you feel better. I wish I could say he’d be there for all of your venting needs, but I’m just watching him for my Mom. He goes home tomorrow.”She told him regretfully, biting her lip. 

“That’s too bad. It was nice having something to argue with. I don’t know who I’m going to talk to now.” Jin sighs, catching the flap of wings out of the corner of his eye. 

“You can talk to me. I mean, if you wanted to. I’m a good listener, and I know more words than Ricky.” She grins. 

Jin clears his throat and rubs the back of his neck nervously. 

“Well, I do owe you something for taking care of me so well and even cooking me breakfast. How does dinner tonight sound? I’ll even wear pants.” Jin smirked as a deep blush graced her cheeks. 

“I’d like that.” She whispered, and Jin knew he was grinning like a fool.

He got up and headed towards the front door, careful to keep her pink blanket wrapped around him. He turned around when he reached the door and kissed her on the cheek. She slapped a hand over it in surprise as he smiled at her. 

“See you tonight. BYE RICKY!” Jin yelled at he opened the door. 

“GO AWAY! GO AWAY!” 

He might actually miss the squawking jerk.

#kkreationsnet #KWritersKollection #kpopwritingnet #btswriters #bts #bts fanfiction #bts oneshot #Kim Seokjin #Jin fic #Jin Fluff #Jin Oneshot #kpop #kpop fanfiction #bts scenario #fluff #seokjin fluff #seokjin fic #Seokjin #Jin #jin x reader #bts crack

[arctiwolf369]

Night 5

A whimper was let out as the child stirred in his bed, nightmares haunted the young one in his dreams. Days have gone by, these constant night time horrors have been assaulting his mind. His frail sanity clawing at the beasts that threaten to take it away. It all originated from that restaurant. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The boy began his final nightmare by jumping off the bed he slept in. His fear of these monsters had not lessened, he only had learned how to deal with them. He grabbed the flashlight that resided on the bedside table and quickly ran to his left door. He cracked the door slightly open and closely listened for heavy breathing, if he heard the breathing that meant they were right outside. He heard none. The boy shined his flashlight down the hallway and did not spot any monster animatronics. With the left door secured he ran to the right door at the sound of a deep laugh from the right hallway. He shined his flashlight immediately at the strange laugh. This had been a new noise, the hall was illuminated by the flashlight. The child let out a whispered scream as he recognized the monster, this wasn’t Chica or Foxy. It was…. Fredbear! He was just like the others now, no…. not him. He was the child's only friend, the boy thought that Fredbear would always be there when he needed, but now he was like the others. The boy frantically shut the door and let out a low whimper. “Please, go away Fredbear.” The boy jumped at the banging. “Aw, what's the matter Chris? Let ol’ Fredbar in. Don’t you want a hug? Or are you going to cry like the baby you are!” A small tear rolled down the boy’s cheek, how could he say that? Fredbear was his bestest friend and now he was trying to hurt him. Why wouldn’t this nightmare just end? The banging on the door ceased, the boy was met with silence as he listened for the banging of the others. There was none. It’s like they all disappeared, and Fredbear had replaced them. Chris left the right door and sprinted to the left door incase the monstrous Fredbear had circled around. He held his ear to the door and heard no breathing as he listened closely. Where could he be? The boy looked back to his bed and spotted Fredbears severed head lying on top. “I wouldn’t let the creepy bear in if I were you.” The monster let out a husky laugh. Fredbear’s body began to to form from underneath his head. The child quickly shined his flashlight into Fredbears eyes. Fredbear let out a deep shriek as his eyes changed to a deep blood red. The child closed his eyes for a split second and Fredbear was now gone. “You don’t belong here.” Fredbear said from wherever he was. It was like the bear was all around him, but he wasn’t there. “Oh how I long to take you out of this world.” “Please, just leave me alone.” A rustling came from the closet, Chris whimpered at the noise, he reluctantly shined his flashlight inside the dark space and let out a scream. Fredbear’s heading was peeking out from the door and flashed his light. “Peek-a-boo!” Fredbear said cruelly as his hand suddenly went for the boy’s head. Chris quickly jumped backwards from the clawed hand and shined his light into the monster's blood-like eyes. Another painful scream erupted from the yellow bear and suddenly he had vanished from sight. Laughter caught the scared child off guard. “Go away!” Chris shrieked. “The game is only beginning.” Chris heard Fredbear say as he sprinted to the left door. Chris quickly flashed his torch down the hallway and spotted Fredbear mere inches from the door. Adrenaline quickly spasmed through his body causing his limbs to slam the door shut on instinct. Fredbear was getting closer to Chris, and that frightened him. To think that the bear that had been comforting him these past four nights was now his greatest fear. It filled Chris to the brim with despair. Tears began to roll down the boy’s cheeks and burn his eyes. The boy dropped his flashlight onto the carpet floor below him and collapsed. This wasn’t fair, how could it have come to this? First Freddy, Bonnie, Chica, and Foxy, now Fredbear was also trying to hurt him. His companions now wanted to hurt him both physically and mentally, the worst part of it was…. he still thought of them as friends. The bond he had developed was strong, but the strings that held their bond together was slowly being severed by his very friends. They wanted a corpse, Chris wanted to live but not with his older brother that constantly bullied him. He wanted his dad, but he was always working at Fredbear’s Family Diner, Chris usually found him making phone calls to employees. Chris remembered that his father once told him that he was the boss. Despite loving the characters and his dad he still hated going to the diner. After seeing that purple guy shove another person inside the suit he just couldn't do it anymore. He had seen this one day when his father had taken him to work. He had seen the purple man put another man inside a suit and finish it off with the mask. It horrified Chris to the core. He had seen the man once again committing the dirty deed two days prior when he was trying to escape the man stuffed into the Fredbear suit. At least his plush was there to guide him away. But his courage quickly faded and the boy had collapsed to the ground in fear. The boy trembled at the mere thought of those people and that resturaunt. The boy snapped his attention back to his predicament. The metal monstrosity let out a dark laugh from the hallways that surrounded the room. Chris’s eyes locked onto the alarm clock on the bedside table. “5:20 am” the clock read. Chris took a deep breath and ran to the right door. His breath quickened as his heart rate increased dramatically. His hand shook violently as the doorknob rattled from his grip. He quickly pushed open the door and flipped the switch on his torch, the light shined down the hallway. Chris let out a sigh of relief when he saw nothing down the hallway. His heart dropped when he could hear a soft creaking from the other side of the room. Chris let out a cry of fear as he furiously sprinted across his room to slam the door shut. With the monster kept at bay for another minute Chris let down his guard to take in a breath. He closed his eyes and shut off his torch as he let himself cry. “Don’t worry. I’m here with you.” Fredbear said as he firmly laid his large hands onto the child's shoulders. Fredbear let out a menacing laugh “Good reflexes, but bad observation.” He said mockingly. Chris let a sob escape his quivering lips. Tears rolled down his cheek and stung his eyes from the copious amount he was shedding. Fredbear snuck a hand off his shoulder and wiped away a tear with a claw. Chris stayed perfectly still as the monstrosity caressed his cheek. “So pathetic, do you ever stop whining? You’ve already won, just look.” Chris looked to his alarm clock as soon as Fredbear motioned towards it. It read “6:00” but he was still in this nightmare. Chris felt fear leave his body, he was triumphant. And yet, he was still here, why? “How come I’m not awake?” The boy asked, genuinely confused. “Because I’m holding you here.” Fredbear let out a low grumble as he cupped the boy’s face in his large paw. “I could keep you here forever, but I’ve already lost this game. It wouldn’t benefit me to keep hold of you. Just remember, we’re still your friends.” Were his parting words before he let go of the child. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chris’s eyes snapped open as he felt the sun shine through his window and onto his pale flesh. Today was his birthday, and yet…. Chris only felt dread.

#fnaf #fnaf 4 #nightmare fredbear #fnaf 4 crying child #fanfic #writing